Family Magic (16 page)

“Syd,” Mom said. “We were trying to support
you. I thought you said you were a good player. I didn’t mean to
embarrass you in front of the family.”

My control vanished in a blaze of demon rage
I barely contained within me, a thin veneer my final barrier. The
only thing between her and my magic was my absolute refusal to be
her.

“I hate the coven,” I snarled at her. “I hate
the family,” I leaned it to her so she would see and hear the
truth, “and I hate you. I can’t stand you, you have no idea. You
ruined everything and I hate you for it.”

It took Mom a moment to pull herself to her
feet. She shook, just under control herself. I knew she held her
own power back, could feel it firmly pressing against mine, raised
in answer to the threat my demon presented.

“You will never speak to me that way again,”
her voice was low, almost a whisper. “And you will get yourself
under control right now. Right NOW.”

Her eyes flashed. I felt the demon retreat
from her but fought against Mom and her desire to control me, her
will, her very spirit. It surprised me how easy it was to get to a
stalemate where I held her, my demon spitting and snarling, at a
standstill. Was my mother holding back? I didn’t think so.

The very thought that I, untrained and
unwilling, was already able to block out my powerful mother, shut
me down instantly, like water running from a broken glass. My demon
hissed spitefully as I stood in front of Mom, shaking with the
release, free of both the pressure of my power and the smothering
anger I used as a weapon.

“You need to go home,” she said, voice steady
but low. “We’ll talk when I get there.”

“We have nothing more to talk about,” I said,
but this time I felt empty, used up, my stomach ready to empty
itself without my consent. The anger vanished, leaving only a
little regret.

She looked up, knowing more than my voice
changed. We faced off in that park, neither of us making a move,
letting the certainty of what we did to each other there settle
between us like a curtain.

Neither of us spoke as I retrieved my kit bag
and walked away.

***

It was almost dark by the time I arrived
home. I trudged into the back yard, dragging my bag along behind
me. It wasn’t until I reached the ward surrounding the house,
though, that I felt the presence of my father.

Just lovely. She had
to drag my dad into this.

I went immediately to the basement, do not
pass go, do not collect a butt whoopin’. I made it down the stairs
with my shoulders back, unwilling to let her see me as weak, not
caring what either of them thought right then. My mind was already
made up. As soon as Uncle Frank and Sunny rose for the night, I was
going to ask them to help me get away from the family once and for
all.

I walked across the basement into the center
of the pentagram as my parents watched. I took my place in the
middle of the ancient symbol and stopped there, crossing my arms
over my chest, feeling very calm, calmer in fact than I expected to
be under the circumstances.

Of course, it helped Dad radiated sympathy
and love.

Cheater.

“Hi, Syd,” he said.

“Hi, Dad,” I said back.

“I think we need to talk.” Dad extended one
hand to me but I ignored it, considering his other hand held
Mom’s.

“
We
do.” I refused to look at
her.

They exchanged a glance. Mom kissed Dad on
the cheek before letting go of him and walking away. She paused
next to me.

“No matter what happens,” she whispered, “no
matter what either of us does or says, Syd, I will always love
you.”

With that, she left.

I would not cry. The new tough Syd who knew
what she was doing and where life was about to take her, sort of,
did not cry because her Mommy told her she loved her despite all
the horrible things that were said.

No way.

Dad stepped forward, joining me in the
pentagram. His power blazed to life along the lines of the symbol.
A soft red curtain rose slowly from the floor and over us to form a
shimmering, semi-opaque dome. I’d been inside this field before.
Surprise, surprise.

“Now we can talk,” he said, hands reaching
for me. Which really meant, now I could go nuclear and let my Daddy
hold me and make everything better.

As much as I resisted, as much as my newfound
resolve was now a part of me and I would not give in to my father’s
usual tactics, I totally caved.

Dad pulled me against his chest and let me
sob my eyes out. Which I proceeded to do for quite some time. Long
enough, in fact, I felt Uncle Frank and Sunny rise. I ignored them
as they quietly left the basement.

Finally, Dad pushed me, easing me away from
him. It wasn’t until he did so that I felt the hardness of him, the
structure of stone that lay under the warmth of him. As much as he
looked real, it reminded me he wasn’t really here. Sure, his mind
was, his power. But his body was a whole plane away while all I had
of him stood in front of me, a granite statue just a parody of
life.

It was a sobering thought and snapped me out
of my need for his comfort.

I’m sure he felt the shift.

His usually glowing red eyes shone blue like
mine, like hers, and his skin had faded from red to soft tan. The
longer he stayed on our plane, the more human he appeared,
something he hadn’t passed to Meira, unfortunately. It was pretty
obvious from his coloring he crossed the divide well before I
reached home. Which meant Mom had tons of time to tell him what
happened and encourage him to influence my choices, just like
always.

While that would have worked even a few short
weeks ago, I hardened my heart against him and my demon snarled in
agreement.

“Syd,” Dad kissed my forehead before leaning
back again. “Honey, what happened?”

“I’m sure she’s filled you in,” I snapped,
wiping at my face with the back of my sleeve. The anger came back
and for the first time I didn’t care if Dad saw it. I usually hid
it from him if I could. But not this time. Maybe not ever
again.

“Tell me,” he said. “Syd, you’re a great
soccer player, I know that, I saw the videos you made. What
happened?”

I told him everything, not just about the
soccer game, but about school and Quaid and Gram, the stuff that
fell on me in the last few days. As I told it I became more and
more overwhelmed with the weight of all of it, of how miserable I
felt. My shoulders slumped from the pressure but I refused to
accept his comfort. Still, Dad kept a firm hold on me and never let
go, using his presence alone to hold me together, giving me the
impression through the flow of his loving magic that he knew and
understood exactly what I told him.

Any show of unnatural influence from him,
even as a means of helping, would have been completely rejected. At
least he really understood something.

I ground to a halt in my story, knowing I was
all over the place when I told it, it sounded pathetic and small. I
meant to be stronger than that, to prove to him I was fine and more
than capable of handling things, that Mom was the real problem. Too
bad I wasn’t so good at lying.

“Syd,” Dad stroked my hair, “you need to talk
to your mother.”

“Forget it,” I snapped. “We’re done. I’m
done. Don’t you get it, Dad? I want out now. Not in two years. Now.
Take the power back and let me go.”

Dad released me physically but I could tell
by his expression I wasn’t about to be released magically. He
seemed regretful when he caught my eyes, an unspoken apology in his
own

“There is something you need to know,” he
said, his deep voice trying to wrap me in the same old loving
warmth he always used on me. To control me, I now felt clearly.
Wow. I thought Mom was bad.

“Stop it, Dad.” I shook his power free. “I’m
done being manipulated.”

His shock was clear on his face as his power
retreated. “You’re right.” He looked down, took a step back. When
he looked up at me again, his face was grim. “It’s time your mother
and I started treating you like an adult. Even when you aren’t
acting like one.”

That hurt. And felt a whole lot like a guilt
trip. “Really, Dad?”

He flinched from my words and sighed. “I’m
finally seeing it.” He actually smiled at me.

“Seeing what?” At least he was smiling. Maybe
he’d finally really talk to me now.

“What you’re mother has been saying your
whole life. Stubborn doesn’t begin to describe you, cupcake.”

That nickname. He was deflecting again. And
that meant he didn’t want to tell me what he seemed to think I
needed to know.

Dad was way more complicated than I ever gave
him credit for.

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” A fear
grew inside me, shoving my anger and frustration out of the way.
There was only one thing he could tell me that would make me
unhappy. They were never going to let me go. I knew it. I was
trapped forever. I fought the panic as he spoke.

“No, cupcake. You’re not going to like
it.”

I tried to hold back the feelings of betrayal
until he betrayed me.

I didn’t have long to wait.

“Syd,” Dad said. “I don’t know how to tell
you this.”

I didn’t know Uncle Frank was there until he
walked through the dome. Vampires aren’t affected by human magic.
Or demon for that matter. Go figure.

“Tell her, Harry.” Uncle Frank, angry? His
pale face pinched tight with it. Since when and why?

Dad and Frank faced each other over me. Their
expressions made me afraid. I’d never seen my father angry before.
Even in mostly human effigy form, it wasn’t pretty. It summoned up
images of him in full demon incarnation, something I couldn’t bear
to think about.

“This has nothing to do with you,” Dad said,
words clipped short with emotion. “Syd is our daughter, Frank. You
need to stay out of it and let us handle it.”

Uncle Frank laughed, bitter. “Like you’ve
been handling it, Harry? Like Mir has? I’m surprised things aren’t
all peachy keen by now the way you handle things.”

I stared at Uncle Frank with my mouth open. I
never heard him speak to my dad that way before. Or anyone for that
matter.

It was pretty obvious from Dad’s expression,
he had.

“I asked you to go.” It wasn’t a request.
Dad’s power swelled, slid around Uncle Frank. I saw it melt away
from the vampire magic and dissipate into the walls of the shield
around us.

“Are you going to tell her?” Uncle Frank
asked without even acknowledging Dad had tried anything. “Because
if you aren’t, I will.”

This time, Dad backed off. His fingers traced
my cheek while his power ached with regret.

“I never meant for this to happen,” he
whispered to me, cupping my face in his hands, blue eyes full of
love I hated to doubt but now wondered about. I’d been played far
too often. “We didn’t know. Please believe me, Syd, we really
didn’t. And we had no idea you wouldn’t want to be like us.”

“I want to know, Dad,” I said.

“Syd, your power is permanent.”

Okay, I hadn’t been expecting that.

“What?”

I looked at Dad and back at Uncle Frank.

“It’s true, Syd,” Frank said. “They didn’t
want you to know.”

“Frank,” Dad said his name like a warning.
This time his power swelled but instead of reaching for Uncle Frank
it tried to wrap around me like a blanket. My demon shoved it free,
driving me back a step and out of his influence. Dad looked
stricken while Frank shook his head.

“She needs to know everything now,” he said
before turning back to me. “The power, your power in particular, it
won’t just go away, Syd, as much as you want it to.”

“But,” I sputtered, brain not registering
what he said, “Mom said... Dad, you said... when I turn
eighteen...”

Dad scowled at Uncle Frank, a growl much like
the one my demon used escaping him. But when he spoke to me, his
voice was gentle. “I’m sorry, Syd. It should be possible. It’s been
done before. But there is something about you, about your
connection to your demon, to our demon, that makes separation
impossible.”

“How do you know?” My growing panic slammed
into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Dad said nothing.

“You’ve tried already, haven’t you?” I gasped
for air to speak.

“Yes,” Uncle Frank said. “They have. They can
push it down, disguise it, put it to sleep, but it’ll hide for a
while. When it wakes, and it will, you won’t be able to control it.
Isn’t that right, Harry?”

I felt very weak, betrayed by my own body, my
own mind. All the while, my demon grumbled and growled inside
me.

“Damn you, Frank,” Dad said with only sadness
behind his words.

“Too late,” my uncle said.

“What am I going to do?” I started to shiver
and couldn’t seem to stop. Uncle Frank reached for me but I avoided
his hug as much as I backed away from my father’s.

Dad answered me.

“You have to learn to control it, Syd,” he
said, “if what happened today is any proof. Your mother... Miriam
said you almost lost control.”

“Because of her.” Damn, there was the defense
again.

“Maybe this time,” he said, keeping his voice
soft, reasonable. This time I was paying attention and realized he
wasn’t using power anymore to influence me. “But what about next
time? And the next? What happens if you lose control in a fight
with a normal? Someone who can’t help you hold the demon back?”

“It won’t happen,” I shook my head. “It just
won’t.”

Even Uncle Frank was on Dad’s side on this
one.

“Syd,” he said, “as much as I hate they lied
to you about this, your dad isn’t lying now. You need to figure out
a way to control this before it takes you over. I’m amazed they
have let you get away with it for as long as you have.”