The Trouble With Spells (22 page)

“You’re amazing,”
Vance’s voice whispered.

“What’re you talking
about?”

“That conversation
with your mom. I was eavesdropping.”

“Were you now?” I
smiled to myself.

“Yes. And I think
you’re even more wonderful now than I did before, though I don’t know why I’m
surprised.”

I laughed out
loud, and a passing jogger gave me a funny look.

“I really don’t
know what you’re going on about,” I said back to him.

“You were so
honest with her. I can’t think of many girls who would tell their mom point
blank how much they want to sleep with their boyfriend.” He chuckled. “Unless
of course you were trying to kill her with a heart attack.”

“No! Of course
not!” I said, rolling my eyes. “My parents have trusted us. It’s got to be hard
for them. I promise you if magic weren’t involved, or this binding spell, I’m
sure my dad would be chasing you off with a shotgun, or whatever else warlocks
run would-be suitors off with.”

“I’m positive
you’re correct on that matter,” Vance replied wryly. “So why tell her you want
to have sex with me? Doesn’t that stir the pot?”

“No. It tells her
I’m responsible enough to talk to her frankly about this kind of stuff. And
it’ll reassure her that their trust in you hasn’t been misplaced.”

“Don’t count your
chickens before they’re hatched,” I heard him mumble.

“What?”

“I’m saying you
put too much faith in me. These are walls that could easily crumble. Trust me,
the temptation is excruciating.”

“And that’s why I
believe in you,” I replied. “Because you’re trying to stay away from
temptation.”

“And that’s what
I’m trying to tell you. I’m failing miserably. She’s right, you know. If you
were older, I’d be asking you to move on to a different stage in your life.”

“But I’m not
older, so I guess we’re stuck making the best of our current situation. If we
struggle to do things right for just ourselves, then let’s try to do it for
them as repayment for their faith in us.”

“Like I said
before, you’re amazing.”

Chapter 16

I was standing at
the corner waiting to cross the highway. I noticed a woman driving a station
wagon in the lane closest to me. Suddenly a dark clad figure on a motorcycle
whipped around from behind and cut sharply in front of it.

The woman in the
car jerked the wheel hard to the right to avoid a collision, and the vehicle
popped up onto the sidewalk, coming straight for me.

I was paralyzed
with a moment of fear.

“Run, Portia!”
Vance’s voice screamed into my head, and an image of us levitating together on
the football field filled my mind.

I ran toward the
vehicle, my left foot levitating on air, the right one actually touching the
hood. I pushed off hard, sending my body into a roll as I coasted over the roof
of the vehicle, only clearing it by inches. I landed in a crouch behind it and
sank to sit on the ground. The station wagon hit a streetlight and came to a
stop while the motorcycle sped off down the street.

I shook violently
for several moments before the car door opened.

“Are you all
right?” A shrill panicked voice filled the air, and a woman slowly exited her
vehicle. She appeared to be several months pregnant.

“I’m fine.” I
hurried to reassure her, hoping she was okay too.

“I’m so sorry!”
She rushed to my side.

“It wasn’t your
fault. It was the motorcycle.” I noticed her trembling figure. “You should go
back and sit in your car. I’ll be okay.”

By this time
people were pulling over and running to help. I saw Grandma exit her store and
run to cross the street.

“Somebody call
911,” a man yelled out to the group of bystanders.

“Ouch!” The
pregnant woman groaned, suddenly hunching over, grabbing her stomach.

“I’m fine! Help
her!” I called to my grandma as she approached.

Grandma nodded and
ran to the woman’s side. I started to stand up to go help her, but the man who
stood next to me told me to stay put.

“You could have
injuries we can’t see. Wait for the paramedics to check you out.”

I felt stupid just
sitting here, but it would be a lot easier to do that than to explain to him I
was uninjured because I was a witch. I folded my arms around my knees and
waited.

It shouldn’t have
surprised me that Vance made it to the scene before the police or ambulance,
but it did. He was suddenly there next to me
,
running his hands all over
my body, checking me out.

“I’m fine!” I said
again, slightly exasperated. “Go check the other lady! I think she’s in labor.”
I pushed his hands away.

He locked eyes
with me for a moment, the fear in them apparent, before he nodded and went to
help Grandma.

I could hear the
wailing of sirens coming down the street. Soon a couple of police cars and an
ambulance pulled up. One of the paramedics grabbed a trauma bag out of the back
and ran toward the station wagon. The other came over toward me.

“I’m all right.” I
sighed. “The car didn’t hit me. I just fell,” I lied.

“Let me check you
out real quick then,” the young man said.

After taking my
blood pressure, feeling my pulse, listening to my lungs, and giving me a
general once over, he finally allowed me to refuse treatment. Grandma signed
the release for me since I was underage.

I stood and
watched as they strapped the pregnant woman to a backboard before wheeling her
on a gurney to the back of the ambulance. Apparently, she was in full labor now.
She kept apologizing to me as they loaded her. I reassured her I was fine and
to concentrate on taking care of herself and her baby.

After the
ambulance left, a police officer came over to question me about the accident. I
told him about the motorcycle that fled the scene, and I hoped I made up a
convincing enough scenario to fool anyone who had actually seen the accident. I
said I jumped up onto the concrete base of the light pole, before jumping out
of the way of the car. No one questioned me about it, and it was obvious to
everyone I was okay, so I guessed it would stick.

The officer
released me into the care of my grandma, and we walked across the street
together while Vance got his bike, drove it over and parked it in front of her
store.

“How’d you get out
of school so fast?” I laughed as we approached him when he got off the
motorcycle.

He didn’t answer
me. Instead he grabbed me in a crushing bear hug and then kissed me hard.

“I was so worried.”
He ran his hands down my arms and over my stomach, then placing them on my
head.

I knew he was
checking me over again. I grabbed both of his hands in mine and pulled them
away.

“I’m fine, Vance. Really,”
I stared into his concerned eyes. “The car barely touched me. Technically, I
touched it. I’m okay.”

“Let’s go inside,”
Grandma said, and we followed her into the store, hand in hand.

“You didn’t answer
my question,” I said to him.

“Hmm? What
question?” Vance replied with a raised eyebrow.

“How’d you get here
so fast?”

“I just ran out of
the school, hopped on my motorcycle and came straight here. I’m sure my teacher
will be calling Marsha to give her an earful about it. I’ll probably be getting
a detention too, I imagine.” He grinned.

“You had to have
known I was okay,” I said with a slight shake of my head.

He turned me to
face him. “When it comes to you, Portia, I don’t take any chances.” His eyes
bore into mine seriously, before he glanced over to Grandma. “And I don’t think
this was an accident.”

“What do you
mean?” Grandma asked, as a concerned look crossed her face.

“The
motorcyclist—when he passed by Portia, I sensed something. He was gunning for
her. He was trying to orchestrate an accident, and she was the target. It’s why
he fled the scene.”

I felt numb. “Why
would anyone want to hurt me?”

“I don’t know. But
I intend to find out,” he said forcefully, and I could feel the anger beginning
to brew inside him.

“We need to call
the coven together this evening,” Grandma said, heading toward the telephone.

“I think that
would be wise,” Vance agreed. “Something strange is going on.”

“Well, there goes
our dinner and movie plans for tonight,” I said with a little laugh.

“Portia, we’ve got
to figure out what’s going on. Someone tried to kill you today, or at the very
least, hurt you significantly. We need to know why.”

“I know. I’m just
trying to lighten the mood. Self-preservation I guess.” I suddenly felt like
throwing up.

Vance wrapped his
arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head. “Yeah, and I have to
figure out how to live the rest of my life without ever letting you out of my
sight.”

All the members of
our coven came to the meeting that night. Everyone was very concerned, and
things were discussed at length. No one could come up with any plausible reason
why an attack would’ve been orchestrated against me. In the end, Vance insisted
on having a powerful protection spell done. When the ritual was complete and
the circle released, the meeting was adjourned and we all headed our separate
ways.

Vance came home
with me. It had been decided he would stay at our house, indefinitely, to help
provide any extra protection needed. Mom made up the guest room next to mine
for him, which I thought was funny since I knew she was aware he spent every
night in my room. I guessed this was her way of keeping up appearances, or
sending a not-so-subtle message to Vance, he now could be near me without being
with me every night.

Marsha brought
some of his things by a little while later. She said there was an angry message
on the answering machine, complaining about Vance running out of class without
permission. She told us she would call them in the morning to tell them a
family member had been in an accident and she’d sent him a text to let him
know, causing Vance undue panic.

I felt bad about
her having to tell a lie for my sake, but once again I figured there must be
some leeway for being completely truthful when it came to magic. Even if she
told the truth, she’d more than likely end up in a loony bin somewhere instead
of helping things to get better.

After Marsha left,
we went downstairs and ate dinner on the couch with Mom. She’d made chicken
fettuccini alfredo while we’d been at our meeting, and it was delicious!  We
watched a little television while we ate, afterward helping Mom to clean up the
kitchen before we headed off to bed.

Vance went into
his room to change into a t-shirt and sweats, before he joined me.

“It’s been a crazy
day,” he said, lying down next to me on top of the quilt as usual.

“Yes. I’m exhausted,”
I replied, not even trying to stifle a yawn.

“Well, get some
sleep.”

“I don’t want to. I
want to visit with you since I won’t see you for most of the day tomorrow.”

“You need your
rest, baby.” He stroked my hair. “I’ll be here in the morning, then for lunch,
and a couple hours after that I’ll be home.”

“I know. It’s just
that it’s still hard for me when you’re away. It still hurts.”

“It’s hard for me
too,” he said, continuing his stroking, trying to soothe me. “But we’ll make it
through this. I promise.”

He reached over to
place his hand on my forehead and began muttering soft words in my ear. Instantly
my mind began to calm, and I was soon fast asleep.

When I woke up in
the morning, I stretched out lazily and headed out of my room in search of Vance.
I quickly paused by “his” bedroom and could hear he was in the shower, so I
went downstairs to help my mom with breakfast.

“Morning,
sweetie!” she said, flipping the French toast cooking in the pan.

“Morning, Mom.” I
gave her a kiss on the cheek. “What can I do to help?”

“There’s some
frozen orange juice in the freezer. You can mix it up if you want.”

 “Okay.”

“I have to go into
work early, so I won‘t be here all day,” Mom said. “They’re swapping my
shifts.”

“Is dad here?”

“No, he’s out
checking on some of his contacts this morning. He should be back sometime this
afternoon.”

“Great,” I said
glumly. “A whole boring day to myself. I guess I could go to the shop with
Grandma.”

“I don’t want you
to leave the house, Portia,” Vance said, entering the room and making my mouth
water with the scent of his aftershave. “You’ll be safer here.”

“I agree,” my mom
said, further condemning me to my new prison by siding with him. “This house
has protection charms all over it.”

“That never kept
Vance from getting in,” I reminded her.

“True. But he’s
part of the coven. They were never meant to keep him out.”

I was defeated, I
could tell, so I let the subject drop.

Mom placed a
steaming plate piled high with French toast in the middle of the table, while I
finished stirring the juice. I carried the pitcher over and sat down just as
she returned with a pot holder, placing a hot pan of freshly made maple syrup
in front of us. We paused for a moment to bless the food, then dished things
up.

“Wow! This smells
great!” Vance said, looking over everything appreciatively. “Thanks, Mrs.
Mullins.”

“Please, call me
Stacey—or even Mom,” she replied. “Mrs. Mullins makes me feel so old. Besides,
you’re basically living here, and you’re dating my daughter.”

“My mom has to be
one of the greatest cook on the planet,” I said proudly to Vance, changing the
subject. “I don’t think there’s a dish she can make that I wouldn’t absolutely
love.”

“Well, maybe
eggplant casserole,” Mom said, correcting me with a laugh.