Sorcery and the Single Girl (27 page)

I took advantage of the hubbub to pull David over to the corner. “Thanks,” I said, setting my tea mug on a table.

“All in a warder’s job description.”

“No,” I said. “It isn’t.” I reached inside my sweater and pulled out the silver chain that still bore his Hecate’s Torch. “I guess you’ll be wanting this back.”

“No,” he said. “Not really.” I looked at him quizzically, and he shrugged. “It’s a symbol of the Coven. It was given to me when I was selected to serve my first witch. Haylee.”

I wove the silver chain between my fingers. “You could have told me, you know.”

“No, I couldn’t. Or at least there was no point in doing so.” He shook his head. “Within the rules of the Coven, Haylee was absolutely within her rights, with regard to me. I disapproved of the way she used her powers. I thought that she was irresponsible, that she overstepped her bounds. But she was my
witch.
I was sworn to her. I didn’t have the right to question her. There’s no halfway point between a warder and a witch.”

“That’s idiotic.”

“That’s the Coven.”

I longed to ask another question, but I wasn’t sure how he would take it. Oh, hell. He’d stood by me through everything else. “And Graeme? Did he have a choice?”

David met my eyes, calmly. Dispassionately. “The same one I did. He had a choice, and he made it.”

Absurdly, tears started to clog my throat. “I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just that I thought…when I was with Graeme, I let myself believe…I didn’t realize…”

“They were cruel,” David said. “Haylee felt threatened by you, so they were very, very cruel.”

“But what about me is so threatening?”

He smiled and shook his head. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“Your powers. The breadth of them. The depth. Most witches are attuned to a single type of magic.” He nodded toward Gran. “Crystals.” And toward Clara. “Or runes. But you? You combine it all. You weave together crystals and runes and you bind them with spells. You toss in herb-lore like it’s nothing. You call upon elemental magic as easily as you recite lines from Shakespeare. Jane, you heard Teresa Alison Sidney last night. The strongest witch beneath the Coven Mother sets the centerstone. And you’re the strongest witch. By far.”

I stared at him, not willing to accept his evaluation.

“Why didn’t you say anything to me before? Tell me about my supposedly amazing powers?”

“What? And let you get lazy?”

I made a face. “Come on. I mean it. You should have let me know.”

“My job is to protect you. But I also want you to be the best witch you can be. The strongest. The work you put in these past couple of months honed your powers. It let you see magical connections, links that you never imagined existed.”

He was right, of course. Two months before, I would not have been able to summon the magic that set the centerstone, much less channel it in a specific direction, harness it to a particular purpose. David’s plan had worked.

Still…“If I’m so strong, how did Graeme and Haylee work spells on me?”

“You had no idea they were allied against you. You never suspected that they’d try to snare you in magic. With your defenses down—absent—you didn’t stand a chance. Any witch can be caught by surprise.”

“Even Teresa?”

“Yes. Even Teresa.” He started to say the rest of her name, but he caught himself. Old habits were hard to break.

“Am I stronger than she is?” I asked.

He made me meet his eyes after I asked the question. Made me admit, even silently, that I was comparing myself to the Coven Mother, measuring myself against her. I saw him consider lying, consider telling me something good, then something bad. In the end, though, he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

It was hard to admit ignorance. I had certainly learned
that
lesson in the past two months. I could only begin to tally up how much my ignorance had cost. If I had known my own strength, I would have had more confidence. I wouldn’t have been so desperate for Teresa’s approval. For Haylee’s friendship. For Graeme’s…for whatever I’d wanted from Graeme. (Sex? No, it had been more than that. Acceptance. Approval. Love.)

I shrugged. “You know I didn’t mean to start all this.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to come between Teresa and Haylee.”

“Things might have been different if Teresa ran a different sort of Coven. If you had had a different warder.” He stared at the silver chain that was twined between my fingers, at the Torch that rested against my knuckles. “When Haylee dismissed me, I was persona non grata in the Coven. It’s a hard life, Jane. It made me a hard person. It’s not easy being out there on your own.”

“But it’s not impossible,” I prompted.

“No. It’s not impossible.”

I squared my shoulders. “And this time, we’ll be out there together.”

“Together,” he agreed.

I settled the silver chain around my neck, tucked the Torch inside my sweater. I might have walked away from the Coven, but I wasn’t ready to give up the symbol. Yet.

“Jane!” Melissa called, and I turned to face the chattering group at the counter. “Everything’s ready to go!”

I scrambled for my purse, fishing out my wallet. “How much?”

Melissa waved me off. “We might as well start an account, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be best, for a long-term venture?”

“That would be perfect,” I said. “Absolutely perfect.”

I made my farewells quickly—I didn’t want to ruin my new Peabridge initiative by arriving late, and I still needed to change into my colonial costume. As the bakery door closed behind me, Melissa was freshening cups all the way around. Neko was insisting that he needed more milk, but he could likely get by with the filling from a cream puff or two. Jacques was agreeing, with Gallic enthusiasm and slavish devotion. Gran was telling Melissa about the recipe for Homemade Turkish Baklava with Rose Water and Pistachio Cream, and Clara was reminding everyone that some of the world’s greatest mystics came from Turkey.

But David walked beside me, carrying my pasteboard boxes in easy, companionable silence.

SORCERY AND THE SINGLE GIRL

A Red Dress Ink novel

ISBN: 978-1-4268-0655-1

© 2007 by Mindy L. Klasky

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