The Witches Of Denmark (24 page)

“How lovely… but what do you think of us, Julien?”

Manuel delivered his query with an uncomfortable dose of solemnity to make it difficult to dance around. I doubt any of us were disappointed by it—surprised, perhaps, but not unhappy to move things along.

“Well, I like you an awful lot, and I’m not like most of the good townsfolk of Denmark who might frown on certain ‘practices’, as you know,” he said, after taking a moment to survey the stoic expressions surrounding him. “I told Sebastian about a month ago that I knew y’all were different than any family I’ve ever known, and not just because of your affinity for the Beauregard’s roof, Georghe.” Julien’s eyes twinkled with loving mirth, and I was delighted that he exhibited no fear… just curiosity and the warmth of friendship and respect that he had always shown to all of us.

“So you know what we are?” asked Adrian, regarding him predatorily.

“Yes,” Julien replied, unfazed.

“And, that is…?” Grandpa sought to confirm, when he wouldn’t continue.

“Well... it appears that y’all have abilities unheard of in recent times—like being able to levitate at will,” he said, straightening in his seat. “Meredith tells me that her guides tell her this is just the tip of the iceberg, and that you have ‘power over the elements of creation’.”

“Julien, I really like you,” said Adrian, wearing a smirk as he studied him thoughtfully. “But, let’s cut the shit on the quantifying terms, shall we? Are you surrounded by warlocks at the moment or not?”

He didn’t answer right away, and I suddenly worried that maybe I had misread Julien.

“Yes, I suppose that fits better than to call you wizards and sorcerers,” he said. “I guess it means the ladies residing in this house are witches.”

My uncles and grandfather nodded nearly in unison, followed by my father and me.

“I don’t suppose I could get a demonstration, to set my mind at ease?” he said.

“Sure, why not?” said Grandpa, rising into the air.

His head bobbed like a balloon just below the ceiling and he brushed away a cobweb attached to the plaster medallion above the chandelier. He motioned for the rest of us warlocks to join him in the air, and we did, leaving Julien to gaze up at us in stupefied wonder. No matter what someone states they believe, or can handle, the facial expression always reflects surprise, disbelief, or both. In this instance, it was mostly surprise, thankfully.

“Ahhh, honey?” called Julien, sounding amused. At least he hadn’t freaked out on us yet.

“Yes, babe,” Meredith replied from the dining room, where she was wiping off the long dinette table. “What is it?”

“Can you come in here please?”

“Sure… we’ll be there in a moment.”

“Great.”

Julien stood and smiled, winking at Dad and me. “She’s gonna love this,” he whispered, wearing a playful grin.

“Wha—
Oh my God!”
Meredith cried out, once she stepped into the living room.

Mom and Grandma flanked her and Alisia stood behind them all, with an expression that damned near matched Julien’s upon her face. Meredith covered her mouth with her hands as she studied all of us while wearing a shocked expression. She might be psychic and all, but I could tell from her reaction that she either disbelieved what her instincts told her, disbelieved what Julien might’ve told her, or had no frigging clue the Radu family she had been hanging out with for much of the past two months were more than a wee bit strange.

“Isn’t this
awesome?”
Julien enthused.

Meredith said nothing, shaking her head in wide-eyed wonder as Mom guided her over to where Julien stood, next to the sofa. Meredith slid down onto the cushions.

“I’m sorry that we’ve frightened you,” said Grandpa. “But, you are the people we trust most, and hope you realize we would never do anything to harm either of you. Truly, we would never harm any of the residents of this wonderful town—not even the shitty handyman living across the way.” He pointed in the direction of Harry Turner’s residence.

“I warned you about hiring his sorry ass,” teased Julien. He sat down next to his wife, pulling her close and kissing her on the cheek. “Sweetheart, you knew they were like this… you told me yourself.”

“I know,” she whispered to Julien while looking anxiously at Mom before glancing warily at us again. Grandpa motioned to us guys to descend to the floor. “It’s just….”

“It’s just you never really expected it to be true,” said Grandma, who had come up behind her and laid a loving hand on Meredith’s shoulder. “If it means anything, you are the first normal people that we have revealed ourselves to in a very, very long time.”

The last time my family had done this was before my birth. I silently prayed Julien or Meredith didn’t ask for specifics on that extra fun fact.

Though it took a moment to acclimate herself to the reality that a coven of witches and warlocks resided directly across the street, by the end of the evening she was smiling, conversing with us as before, and seemed at peace with the revelation. Grandma and Mom even talked her into doing a Tarot card reading—Meredith’s first in several years, according to Julien. I think Mom was hoping for an extra edge against the Mateis, but Meredith only confirmed what we already knew: Our enemies wouldn’t be going away anytime soon, and would most definitely pursue us to the ends of the earth if necessary. Fleeing to anywhere else would only exacerbate an already volatile situation.

Alisia and Mom were especially pleased by Meredith’s confirmation that staying put was the best option for our family, while everyone else in our family seemed neutrally affected. Everyone but Manuel, who restated his intent to return to Europe soon, regardless of how things turned out in Tennessee. Adrian playfully chided his youngest brother for reverting to the attitude of an obstinate child… but Manuel brooded just the same.

Despite my uncle’s sourpuss response, I felt optimistic about our family’s future. For the first time in my lifetime, normal human beings had been allowed into our private circle. And, rather than detracting from that circle’s sacred energy, Julien and Meredith seemed to add something. Maybe not extra power… but an extra perspective fed by two extra pairs of eyes from these highly intelligent people who accepted what and
who
we were. We now had a potential advantage, and although it had just started, perhaps it would deliver the upper hand we had long sought against the Mateis… unless they someday did the same thing.

But at least for that night I felt things had changed for the better. Things might work out for us after all. It was the second to last thing I considered that night in bed. The last thing, of course, was Daciana. If we could work out a way to remain in Denmark, then it stood to reason that maybe we could eventually forge a lasting peace with her family. And, if that happened….

Hope springs eternal, they say, and is carried forth on the wings of love. It was my final thought before surrendering my spirit to the realm of dreams.
 

Chapter Twenty

July 13
th
, Day 55.

Things started out heavenly that Monday. After enjoying the most restful night I could recall since my family’s move to Denmark, I surprised my sister and grandparents when I joined them downstairs for breakfast shortly after eight o’clock. The morning’s warm sunshine brought brightness to the main floor that I rarely witnessed. Grandpa commented on my unusually serene demeanor, while Alisia and Grandma eyed me curiously. Grandpa returned to his previous task of scanning the Denmark Gazette’s meager news offerings, as if looking for some hidden message, while my sister and grandmother continued to study me in silence.

“Just thought I’d get an earlier start on the day,” I said, while pouring myself a glass of orange juice. “Maybe I can help Harris work on the barn.”

“That would be great, Sebastian… except you wouldn’t have a clue how to use the power saws and other electric tools Harris is using,” Grandpa advised while Grandma brought over the first batch of pancakes. “You can’t use magic to bail you out of trouble. Harris is a smart kid and he’d likely detect anything odd you would do. I can’t afford for you to scare away the only local handyman I trust.” He laughed, but his eyes confirmed his seriousness.

“Maybe I can help him strip the paint off of the clapboards he hasn’t reached yet,” I said, after accepting Grandma’s offer of additional pancakes, since the first delivery was intended for Grandpa and Alisia. “I’m familiar with using a heat gun, and I promise not to do anything ‘wand’ or ‘naked spell’ related.”

“So, what am I supposed to do today, if you won’t be around to pester?” Alisia asked, wearing a fake pout.

“Well, you can’t be around Harris when he’s supposed to be working, since you’d be a bigger distraction than I could ever be,” I replied. A rare moment for me to smile like a canary-eating feline.

“Meaning what?” She crossed her arms over her chest guardedly.

“Meaning you make him nervous,” I said, to which Grandpa raised his eyes above his reading glasses and Grandma regarded me over her shoulder. I guess I was the only one to notice Harris’ crush on my sister. “I think he likes you.”

“I barely know him,” she mumbled, when my grandparents’ gaze turned to her instead.

“Like that even matters,” I said. “He’s a good guy, and you could do worse—especially in this town—”

“Or, I could be like you!” she blurted out.

Uh-oh….

“True.” My smile vanished and I glared at her while imploring her silently to shut the hell up before she dashed all of my fantasies of a Radu/Matei exception to pieces. “You could be a lonely mess like me, sentenced to months—even years—of waiting anxiously for the next cool video game, since you wouldn’t have much else to look forward to…. If you
were
me, of course.”

“What about visiting cool places like the winery as a lonely boy?” she said.

“Is there a reason why you’ve become a Negative Nellie this morning?” I replied, trying to sound compassionate while Grandpa and Grandma watched our volley. “You and I doing things together is what makes places like the Winery cool. You know that….”

“Sorry,” she said, smiling insolently. Meanwhile, Grandma and Grandpa studied us both with keen interest. “I’m not ready for anything with anyone, so don’t worry about me hooking up with someone in the neighborhood.”

“We trust your judgment,” said Grandpa, who paused to get a silent affirmation from Grandma before continuing. “As Sebastian stated, you can do a lot worse than Harris Martin.”

“Well… for your information, it’s not a dating versus single thing,” she said, as she stood to carry her dishes and silverware to the sink. “It’s not even a black guy dating a white girl thing, either. It’s more about the question of permanence, as in, there isn’t any for us right now. It would be foolish to get involved with
anyone
until there is.”

Yes, those choice words were intended entirely for me, as she gave me a hardened stare that was much cooler than the one I delivered to her a moment earlier. Needless to say, finishing breakfast and getting the hell away from my sister’s ire became a top priority. I figured she would calm down by lunchtime, and maybe she and I could come up with something fun to occupy ourselves with that afternoon.

In the meantime, I asked Grandpa once more if I could assist Harris.

“As long as that nice kid is still happy to work for us when you’re done, that will be fine,” he said. “Otherwise, you’ll get to help me recruit the next handyman. Does that sound like fun?”

“No.”

“Good… make sure Harris is still our guy, then.”

I was beginning to think I should’ve slept in to around ten, like I normally did. But, before I managed to irritate anyone else that morning, I retrieved one of the heat guns left behind in the laundry room by Mr. Clarke, from when they moved, and headed for the barn. Walking along the gravel driveway’s course, and beneath majestic walnuts and butternut trees that apparently had survived longer than their normal life expectancies, is a remarkable experience. The tranquility and the noticeable pull upon my spirit whenever a breeze rustles the upper branches always draws my gaze skyward and lifts my mood. Grandpa told me a few weeks earlier that traversing the expanse of our backyard reminded him of some of the wooded areas near the outskirts of Bucharest several centuries ago. Areas that now contain crumbling tenement buildings, and that have long lost their connection to the spiritual essence that was once strong in his homeland.

Harris was working on the outside of the barn that day, repairing loose planks from beneath the eaves on the westernmost edge of the building. Hardly anyone would notice this flaw, since a large pecan tree hid the affected area from view, unless someone stood directly below the spot… like me right then.

“Can you use some help?”

“Well, hey, Bas… what’s up, man?” Harris paused to look down at me, leaning over the side of the scaffold he had set up on that side of the barn. His smooth ebony skin glistened from sweat. “You comin’ by here to help out, or are you on the way to someplace else?”