The Witchfinder Wars (13 page)

Nothing concrete, of course, not really.
More like the silk screen magic offered for those who engaged
it.

I saw a slight movement through his hair and
grinned when I realized what it was.

"Hold still." I didn't give him the chance
to protest. My fingers ran through his thick hair to snag the tiny
spider. My lessons in witchcraft were strong enough for me to thank
the creature for the wisdom it represented before releasing it into
the grass.

Tommy sighed at the touch of my hand and his
eyes closed.

I reached back out of curiosity, careful to
watch for any notion he was pulling away as my hand ran through his
hair again. He continued to relax. His energies had changed, ebbing
into almost nothingness. It wasn't long until a slow but steady
breathing broke the quiet calm around the pond.

Tommy was asleep.

I sat in silence, surprised at how
comfortable it was, just lying next to him in the sun by the
water.

He needs this, Annie. This rest, free from
the dreams of the dead. Of the dying.

The voice that had announced his arrival now
whispered as if afraid he would hear it. It broke the quiet, the
tranquility. I pulled my hand back after it spoke, stood up to walk
over to the water's edge.

I refused to let the guilt set in; not yet.
It felt as if this day shouldn't have happened. Too easy.

And all because of the spell.

Would he be here if it had never been
cast?

I sighed as I bent down and picked up a
rock. A flick of my wrist sent it across the water.

Yes. Eventually, he would have. Your paths
were meant to cross, child.

I don't deserve this day
.
This...peace. He is here because I'm selfish. Nothing more,
nothing less.

Each pebble left tiny ripples across the
pond. I focused on the thin lines I created, one upon the other,
until my thoughts were lost within them.

The sun had slipped farther beneath the tree
line than I realized when I came back to my surroundings. Tommy was
right where I left him, his arms folded behind his head and his
eyes closed to the late afternoon sun.

Magic or no, I felt lucky to have had this
time with him.

Almost normal.

I sank onto the ground next to him; I
reached out to brush at a piece of grass stuck against his cheek.
His face turned into my hand as I did something I never do.

Ever.

I giggled.

The sound must have awakened him; his eyes
opened.

"Welcome back." My voice was soft as looked
up at me. The gamut of emotions that crossed his face was too hard
for me to read, so I gave up trying. Instead, I gestured toward the
sun dipping low on the horizon, leaving the sky a paled version of
the dawn.

"It's getting late."

He leaned up on a single elbow, those blue
eyes darker than I'd ever seen them. Tommy's free hand reached out
to grasp the side of my face and my breath caught in the back of my
throat as I felt his thumb brush against the skin beneath it. He
leaned up, slow and careful, to press his lips to mine. I had to
admit, I was startled. But what surprised me the most was I
responded. It wasn't until we parted that he threw a crooked grin
in my direction.

"Sorry. I don't know what just came over
me."

"Don't...don't apologize." I smiled despite
myself. "Never for a kiss, at least."

The grin grew wider as he sat up, faltering
only when he began to notice the darkening skies over the
water.

"Geez. How long was I out?"

I chuckled as I stood and reached down to
take his hand.

"Long enough. You looked like you needed it
though."

As his palm touched mine, what felt like an
electric hum vibrated through my system and I stifled a gasp. The
beating of my heart increased against it, and once he was on his
feet, I released him. I made sure my back was to him so the
expression of shock wouldn't give me away.

What was that?
I hissed to the voice
as the sound of his steps followed mine before I turned to face
him. Tommy looked as surprised as I had a moment ago. At this
point, I didn't know what to say.

Or what to do.

The voice laughed inside my head. I knew I'd
gone crazy the other day. It was again confirmed.

Voices, ghost images of Tommy. Impulsive
kisses and now, electrical touches.

Yeah. I'm too far gone for help now.

I waited for him. It didn't take him long to
reach my side.

"It'll be dark soon. I don't want them
sending a search party out for us if I don't get you back in
time."

He laughed as we began to walk up the path.
"Yeah, Grand can be pretty brutal when she wants to be. She really
knows how to snap you back in line if you get out of it."

The fading light showed how right the voice
had been about Tommy needing sleep. The pallor in his face had all
but disappeared, the darkness under his eyes dissipated. He looked
better than he had since he got here, and I secretly thanked this
sacred place for helping him.

We chatted on the way back. As we approached
the house, a groan escaped as I recognized the car in the drive
next to Tommy's.

Ivy was home.

I could almost hear the questions sure to
hit me the minute I got inside.

We said our goodbyes quickly. But just
before he reached the car, I remembered something he had told
me.

"Tommy...wait."

He turned with the small smile back on his
face. I hated to see him leave, but I knew his visit would have to
come to a close before the night came. The bouquet of lavender was
still lying where I had dropped it earlier, and I grabbed it and
slipped the green ribbon out of my hair. My hair fell down my back
and around my face, but I shook it out of the way as I tied the
ribbon into a bow.

I was back to him in less than two
seconds.

"Here. Take these to your Grand. From you.
She seems like she's been through a lot. It'll make her smile."

I saw no reason to tell him lavender was
also for a blessing. Great to chase away negativity.

Tommy took it and tilted his head as he
turned it in his hands. "But...I mean, thanks and all that, but
honestly we've got so many flowers in the house, the smells would
just choke you."

"Trust me, Tommy. These aren't the hothouse
ones everybody on the face of the planet has been sending you guys.
Besides, tell her they are
just
for her. It'll make her feel
better. It's lavender...an herb for calming."

We smiled at each other and he turned to go,
waving the bouquet at me before he climbed back into the car; the
brilliant color of it seemed to have dulled in the fading
afternoon.

When he was with me, the happiness I felt
had multiplied. Yet the guilt that had threatened by the pond began
to set in as he pulled out of the drive. The light afternoon we had
shared didn't belong to me, and I knew it. With his kiss still on
my lips, I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me.

It
was
because of the spell. All of
it. I had done magic. A working. And now I was going to have to
make a choice and suffer the consequences.

The sudden sadness was overpowering as I
gathered up the remaining flowers and threw them aside for later.
The pinks and pale yellows of the sky had turned to a rich purple
as I moved inside; I ignored as best I could the curiosity in the
expressions of Evie and Ivy. Their questions about Tommy would have
to wait.

I walked with the heavy steps of a dead man
up to my room before shutting the door to close off me from the
world.

A love not freely chosen is not really a
love at all
.

I sank across the bed and buried my head in
the crook of my arm.

It's enslavement
.

I knew what I had to do. Yet I loathed the
very thought of it. I fought with the defiance of a stubborn child,
but I was better than that. When I sat up, I had made my
decision.

I have to let him go.

Chapter Eight

Tommy

I liked the smell of the little grey-green
bunch of lavender tied with the ribbon from Anya's hair, the one
that matched her eyes. The smell wasn't sweet and overpowering like
all the flowers sent for the funeral and filling every space in our
house; a smell I just wanted to escape from. The lavender smell
filled up the car, sure, but it was earthier and, at the same time,
rich and soothing.

Of course, maybe I just like it because Anya
gave it to me.

Maybe I did. In fact, that little bunch made
me feel a lot like she made me feel: warm and happy and with a
future to look forward to instead of one filled with dread. I
grinned at myself in the rearview mirror as I drove toward
home.

Anya's house was out in the country, past
the edge of town, and I enjoyed the drive back. I cut off the air,
rolled the window down and sang, at the top of my voice, a song I'd
heard in Italy. I didn't know all the words, but it was something
about a pretty girl and a boy. As far as I could tell, all Italian
songs were about a pretty girl and a boy. I hummed the words I
couldn't remember.

I got home too soon to suit me.

And Clay's big black Hummer, which had
showed up the day before from somewhere, was in the drive.

My good mood plummeted from sky high to
below ground level and I went from singing to groaning within the
space of ten yards.

We'd missed our 'little chat' on Monday at
supper. Clay had received an emergency call after lunch, something
to do with WFG he just had to take care of, he said. He and Kinsey
had disappeared, though Clay had promised they'd be back soon.

They were gone for over two days, just
making it back on Thursday morning for Dad's funeral—closed casket,
of course, then cremation. None of us wanted to see what was left
of our father once the rescue squad dug his Ferrari from under the
rock fall; just seeing the car was enough.

Right after the service, Clay and Kin had
disappeared again without a word of explanation. I pretty much
hoped we'd seen the last of them. They were one reason why I went
to school on Friday, aside from hoping to see Anya to thank her for
the letter. I was glad she'd played hooky. I had really enjoyed the
visit to her house.

But now it was back to trouble.

Well, at least I'd gotten a nap. I felt
better able to face things since I'd had some rest.

I drove around to the back of the house to
the long garage that had once been stables. I parked the little
green sports car Dad had given me for my seventeenth birthday
beside another pair of Hummers I didn't remember seeing before. Ray
was cleaning the windshield on one of them, and a couple of guys
stood talking to him.

"Hey, Ray," I called as I got out of my
car.

Ray turned to look at me. "Afternoon, uh,
Mr. Hopkins," he said, cutting a sidelong glance at the other two.
"Your uncle is looking for you."

There was a funny look on his face, kind of
embarrassed or nervous or something. But I didn't have time to
investigate.

"I'm busy right now. I'll talk to him
later."

After all, I had flowers to deliver to
Grand. I held the little bunch up to my nose as I walked toward the
house. Just outside the back door was a long screened porch with
shelves and cabinets and stuff; Brent had been moving a lot of the
flowers out there. I pulled the green ribbon off and stuck it in my
pocket, then looked around for something to put the lavender in. I
saw the perfect thing high up on a narrow shelf near the ceiling,
half hidden behind a blue jug: a pint-sized glass jar with 'Mason'
in big raised letters on the side. I grabbed it and went into the
kitchen.

"Hi, Brent," I said to our chef's back.

He was a tubby man who obviously enjoyed his
own cooking. He dressed in white so often I'd almost not recognized
him at Dad's funeral, in a navy suit with a yellow shirt. He
ignored me with his usual intensity as he chopped mushrooms on a
big butcher block in that speed-of-light way he has.

I went over to the long divided sink under
the window and rinsed out the jar, then filled it half full and
stuck the lavender in it.

Brent turned to me. He pointed one finger in
an accusing kind of way. "That's French lavender," he said. "Where
did you find French lavender?"

"Uh, a friend gave it to me; it's for
Grand."

"I can find a vase for it. The good Lord
knows, we have plenty of vases in this house."

Brent waved his hands in the air and, since
one held a foot-long cleaver, he looked pretty dangerous.

"No, this jar is fine. It'll be a nice
change for Grand. See ya."

I headed out the door before he could say
anything else.

The kitchen was in a long one-story addition
on the back of the big Victorian, so I passed through several rooms
before I got to the actual house. I was heading for the main stairs
but, halfway there, I decided to take the back ones instead.

Not just because it was quicker, but so I
wouldn't have to chance running into Clay.

I went up to the second floor and headed for
Grand's room. I knew she'd be there; she was always there between
the time we all got home from school and the evening meal. Her door
was open and I could hear Jos and Jax arguing. I was glad things
were getting back to normal.

I went in, and the girls turned to face me.
Jos had been crying, but Jax was a funny dark red color that meant
she was seriously pissed.

"Tommy, it's about time," she said, and she
had her hands on her hips, which was another danger signal. "Do you
know what that creep Clay says?" Without even waiting for me to
shake my head, she continued. "He says Jos and I have to go to a
stinky old boarding school instead of staying here with you and
Grand."