Witches (Runes series Book 6) (8 page)

I headed downstairs, deliberately walking instead of creating a portal. I liked the exercise. Dad and I used to jog together before he became ill. I would swim with the swim team during regular season and with a local club in the off-season, but since I got immersed in the supernatural world, I’d dropped everything. I needed other forms of exercise to stay in shape. Moving at hyper-speed burned calories like crazy and my appetite had shot up exponentially to match it, but it wasn’t something I did regularly.
 
Maybe I should.

Mom was in the kitchen finishing her breakfast when I got downstairs. Someone had cooked eggs. Probably Femi. Mom’s cooking sucked. Dad had done most of our cooking when I was growing up.

“Is Dad up?” I asked.

“No, honey. Do you want breakfast?” Mom asked.

“No. I already ate at Torin’s.” I placed my backpack on the counter and took a stool. “I guess I’m not exactly sure what to do about the cat now. Should I put newspaper down for her to use and a bowl of water? I’m not even sure what food she eats. I was thinking of shopping for her after school.”

“Sounds like a good idea. Don’t worry about her now,” Mom reassured me. She got up to put her plate away and pressed a kiss on my forehead. “Femi will take care of her.” She grabbed her bag. “Wish me luck. I don’t want to be late for my first day at work.”

“Work?” She was dressed in her Boho skirt and top, jewelry around her neck and wrists, and a Gypsy-inspired hairpiece holding her pitch-black, straight hair down. As usual, she looked like a hippie. A drop-dead gorgeous hippie. “Aren’t you reaping today?”

“Yes, in the Seattle area. My partner got me a job at a jewelry shop, so we don’t have to hang around doing nothing.”

I frowned. “What partner?”

“Some young man. Just like Torin and Andris are paired, I’m paired with a Valhalla Valkyrie.” She glanced at her watch, blew me a kiss, and added, “Love you, hun. Be careful. If you need me, portal to me.”

I watched her hurry towards the den and scowled. Young man, huh? Of course young man meant he was a few centuries younger or he’d become Immortal at a much younger age. Mom might be over a millennium old, but she looked like someone in their late twenties or early thirties. Men were going to hit on her out there. Somehow I couldn’t imagine her with anyone but Dad. In fact, I didn’t know how I’d feel if she dated anyone after Dad died. My throat closed. I’d accepted that my father was dying. It was only a matter of when. Still, it wasn’t easy.

Femi was checking Dad’s vitals when I entered the room. For a moment, I studied him. His color had improved since Mom came back. It had taken months for the Valkyrie Council to reinstate her status as an active reaper, but it was worth it. She would reap Dad and find him a place in Goddess Freya’s Hall. I hope. She wouldn’t have to date some faceless man while Dad was in Freya’s Hall because she’d see him whenever she escorted souls there.

I dropped a kiss on Dad’s forehead and followed Femi out of the room. “How is he doing?”

“Better now that Svana is home.” She glanced up the stairs, and I followed her gaze. The cat stood at the top of the steps watching us. “I’ll take care of your cat while you’re gone.”

I nodded. “Thanks. I think she’s hungry.”

She extended a hand toward the cat. “Come here, princess.”

The cat gave her a disdainful look, turned, and walked back toward my room.

“You need to give her a name, doll,” Femi said. “Start bonding with her.”

“We’ve already bonded. Hey, Fur-ball, there’s bacon down here,” I called out.

Beiskaldi.

That must be her favorite insult.

Femi laughed. “Fur-ball? That’s a terrible name. Try Bastet or Isis.”

The cat reappeared at the top of the stairs and sat, looking regal.
Ugly names,
she said.

“Isis sounds good,” I said and got a mean glare from the cat.

Femi chuckled. “You might be right about bonding with her. Cats are ornery, but familiars tend to bond fast with their owners.”

“This one bonds with whoever gives her bacon,” I said.

“Is that so? Then she and I are going to be best buddies. I love bacon. Come on, pretty lady.”

Femi knew a lot about magic. Without her help, I would not have sharpened my visions or discovered Torin’s father’s evil plot.

“How do you know if you’ve bonded with your familiar?” I asked.

Femi glanced at me and chuckled. “You’ll be in sync. She’ll know when you need her, know what you’re thinking before you speak. If you’re really lucky, she will communicate with you telepathically.”

Yeah, lucky me. “Ok. Later, Femi. Bye, Isis.” She ignored me.

Torin was already waiting in his garage. He watched me, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. I was wearing the leather jacket he’d bought for me in Florida and jeans. Nothing to go ga-ga over, but he had a way of telling me he liked what I was wearing without saying a word. I wanted him to look at me like that forever.

He snapped my helmet on and swept my hair away from my nape. My breath caught, reminding me of the first time he ever did that. The effect on me was the same, which might explain why he loved doing it.

“You look beautiful,” he added, pressing a kiss on my lips. They tingled. “That’s new. Tastes good.”

“It’s flavorless,” I said.

He tilted his head sideways. “Did you do magic this morning?”

I’d practiced connecting with the source of my magic. “A little. Why?”

“Nothing. What’s that?” He jerked his head to indicate the sweatshirt in my hand.

“Beau Hardshaw’s sweatshirt.” I dropped it in one of the bike’s saddlebags while Torin stashed my backpack in the other.

“Are you getting anymore visions from it?”

“Nope. It’s all good. He has a bright future now.” I didn’t bring up his ‘nothing’ response to my question about magic until he was parking his bike at school. “Nothing? Really? You never say anything unless you mean it.”

“You feel and taste different after you do magic,” he said.

I frowned. “Different good or different bad?” He waved to two of his jock friends, then lifted my backpack and gripped my hand. I dug my feet in. “I’m not moving until you tell me.”

“Does it matter?”

He was procrastinating. Not a good thing. “Am I repulsive? Taste disgusting?”

“Freckles, you could never— Ouch!”

I’d elbowed him. It hadn’t hurt, the faker. “This is important and you’re screwing with me. Is it good or bad?”

“It’s hard to explain.” He ran a finger down my nose and frowned. “After you perform magic, it’s like the energy inside you calls to me. You become my oxygen, something I must have. And when we touch, it only gets more intense. It’s very unsettling and…”

I laughed and hugged him.

“Quit that. It’s not funny. I hate being out of control.”

That explained his weird intensity last night. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”

“No, you won’t.” He put his arm around my shoulders and pressed a kiss on my temple. “I could hurt you.”

No, he couldn’t. But a Torin I could control opened new doors. I was still grinning when we entered the main hall.

Students were everywhere. Prom courts seemed to be the topic. The junior prom was next week on Friday and the teachers would post the nominees the day before. The bigger event would be the senior prom several weeks away. I planned to attend both with Torin.

After yesterday, I tried not to brush against people as we made our way across the main hall. Torin bumped fists with his friends and a few slapped his back. They tended to treat me like one of them, which was totally cool with me most of the time. But since the visions started, I didn’t want to be touched. And the way I clung to Torin’s arm, like some insecure girlfriend, left little room for me to high-five anyone or do fist bumps.

My focus stayed on the people hurrying past us, hoping no one brushed against me. My premonitions were sporadic. I didn’t know how to open or close my mind to them yet. Maybe tapping into the source when I needed it and pushing it back might do the trick. Lavania hadn’t taught me that yet. She preferred to take things slow.

We turned the corner and almost bumped into Justin Sinclair and Darren Rassman leaning against the wall chatting. Both were seniors and had played football with Torin. Last night flashed in my head. Ellie, Justin’s girlfriend, and Beau Hardshaw. Who would have thought?

“Seen Hardshaw this morning?” Torin asked them.

“Nah, but his fucked-up ride is outside,” Justin said and leered at me before focusing on a group of girls walking by.

I never liked Justin. He was preppy, rich and entitled, and I found it repulsive the way his pale eyes ran over every girl that walked past, as though he was mentally undressing them. Ellie was better off with Beau, but loaded girls like her only dated loaded jerks like Justin.

Ellie and Amber Griffin left the restroom across the hallway and paused to giggle. I hated girls who giggled. Justin and Darren must have been waiting for them.

“Her hair looks hideous,” Ellie said, glancing over her shoulder at the restroom door.

“Thank you. The bitch got what she deserved,” Amber said. Then she saw us and flashed a smile. “Hey, Raine, Torin.”

I gave them a stiff smile, remembering Ellie’s camera make-out session with Beau. She walked into her boyfriend’s arms and continued to kiss him. What did she see in him?

Amber took Darren’s arm and pulled it over her shoulder. She and Ellie might consider me one of them now because we dated jocks, but six months ago, they’d made fun of me when I’d been labeled a witch. Who were they tormenting in the restroom this time?

“If you see Hardshaw, tell him to find me ASAP,” Torin said and bumped fists with Justin.

As we walked away, a girl burst out of the restroom and brushed past us at a run. The vision that flashed in my head was brief, but it was enough to know the person behind her new hairstyle. Her hair was an ugly shade of pink.

Ellie and Amber giggled.

“She tries too hard,” Amber said.

I frowned. “I thought McKenzie was your friend.”

“Oh please,” Ellie said and rolled her eyes.

“We tolerate her because her brother’s hot,” Amber said. McKenzie’s brother, Luke, was the captain of the baseball team. “But not as hot as you, hun,” she added, smiling at Darren. He lapped it up. Moron.

I waited until we were a fair distance from the group before saying, “I can’t stand them.”

Torin squeezed my shoulder. “I noticed.”

“She did that to McKenzie.”

Torin shot me a bewildered glance. “Who did what?”

“Cheer-bitch Amber colored McKenzie’s hair. You should do something.”

Torin’s eyebrows shot up. “Why me? I don’t even know who this McKenzie is or how her hair color is my problem.”

I sighed. “Just find a girl with bright pink hair and say something nice to her.”

He stopped. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. You are the charming one. Make up something. Compliment her hair. Tell her she looks pretty this morning.”

Torin laughed. “You’re kidding.”

I shook my head. “This incident will lead to another, then another, and finally she’ll slit her wrists.”

“Because a bunch of girls mocked her hair? Is she pretty?”

I punched his arm. “Does it matter? She’s sweet and nice, but her hair is an ugly shade of pink.” I grimaced. “But that’s beside the point. She’s been trying to fit in all her life and she thought Ellie and Amber were her friends. Now they did this. Please.”

Torin groaned, but his expression said he’d do as I asked. He glanced at his watch. “If I used hyper-speed…”

I kissed his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“The things I do for you, Freckles,” he murmured. “
You
can return Beau’s stinky sweatshirt.”

“Aw, come on.”

He tossed it and it landed on some poor guy’s face. At least the guy was graceful enough not to take offense and gave it to me. Torin, on the other hand, was aggravating. He laughed when I glared at him.

“I’ll take it to lost and found.” Just in case the guy he’d hit thought the smelly sweatshirt was mine.

I felt a little bad about using Torin, but I knew how it felt to be in McKenzie’s shoes. To have your so-called ‘friends’ desert you while others looked at you like you were a freak was demoralizing. At least I’d had Eirik and Cora when the entire swim team had deserted me. McKenzie needed a confidence boost, and no one could deliver it like Torin.

I was running to catch up with Cora during lunch when I almost bumped into Beau and his entourage—Seth Renwick and Ryder Copeland. Seth was built like a viking: red hair, freckles everywhere, arms and legs like a tree. He was the serious one of the trio. Ryder was the opposite—skinny with curly dark hair, and a mouth that didn’t stop yapping. Both played varsity baseball with Beau.

Beau didn’t act like he’d seen me in my pajamas. He flashed the lopsided grin that had lured many naïve girls to his rundown truck.

“St. James said you found my shirt,” he said.

“Yeah, but it’s in my locker.”

“Damn.” He looked at his friends.

“We gotta go, dude,” Ryder said and walked backwards. “They won’t wait forever.”

Beau looked undecided for a second, and then said, “I’ll get it after school. Your last class is band, right?” He winked. “I’ve watched you walk past my class. I’ll find you.” He took off after his friends.

By the time I entered the bathroom, Cora had already used the portal and disappeared. She was probably meeting Echo for lunch.

Torin was waiting for me at his place with lunch by the time I got there. He only had five minutes because he was meeting a student. Once he left, I carried my food to our house and sat with Dad while I ate. I didn’t see Fur-ball.

I headed back to school after lunch feeling a bit meh. I couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was sitting with Dad or only seeing Torin briefly. I was used to spending most of my free time with him.

Hours later, I was on my way from the orchestra room when I heard, “You know the drill, Hardshaw. You don’t improve your grade, you get benched.”

I stopped by the door and shamelessly eavesdropped.

“Just one last chance, Mr. Gentry,” Beau said. “I have a big game in two weeks and there’ll be scouts from several colleges.”

“This is the school policy, Hardshaw. If you’re failing a class, you can’t play sports. I’m sorry, but you should have enrolled in peer tutoring weeks ago.”

No. I didn’t sneak into the boy’s locker room and kill my brain cells with the stench from Hardshaw senior’s tighty-whities only to have some teacher mess with my case. I peered into the room. Beau was picking up his things while Mr. Gentry scribbled on a piece of paper.

I looked up and down the hallway. Students were hurrying home and half the hallway was already empty. I could disappear without anyone noticing. I lifted my oboe, waited until a group of girls walked past me and then engaged my invisibility and speed runes.

I entered the classroom just as Beau started for the door and went to where the teacher sat.
You will give him one more chance. Call him back and give him one more chance. Do it now.

Mr. Gentry looked up just as Beau reached the door. “Hardshaw! Wait.” He pulled out a packet and slid it across his desk. “Turn this in by next Friday or no more baseball. We’ll have a test on Friday too. If you work through this packet, you should be able to pass. Otherwise I will have to contact your coach.”

Yes! I took a peek at the packet. They were reading
The Scarlet Letter
by Nathaniel Hawthorne. Sweet. I’d read the book last year and could help him.

“Find someone to help you with it or enroll in the peer tutoring program. There’s no shame in asking for help.” While Mr. Gentry expanded on the value in seeking help, I left the room.

The hallway was almost empty. I got rid of the runes and pulled out my cell phone. Timing was crucial. I listened to Beau’s footsteps and when he was closer to the door, I put my cell phone to my ear.

“That’s okay, Mom,” I said into the phone. “I know. I’ll find a student to tutor for the rest of the semester. I don’t know, Mom. Math or English lit.” Beau entered the hallway, but instead of walking past me, he stopped. I gave him a brief smile. “Fine, Mom. I’ll stop by Mr. Kent’s office and sign up for peer tutoring.” I closed my phone and smiled at Beau. “Mothers. They can be so pushy.” I made a face. “I’m heading to my locker if you want to get your sweatshirt.”

Beau nodded and for a few minutes, we walked without talking. Students heading to after-school programs turned and stared at us. I wondered what they were thinking. Kayville High bad boy and the QB’s girlfriend together? Hmm, too cliché.

“So where did you find my sweatshirt?” Beau asked.

“I went to the boy’s locker room and grabbed it, just so I can give it back to you.” I gave him a toothy smile. “That’s probably what everyone’s thinking.”

He smirked. “You can read minds?”

“Yep, and faces. You were thinking it too.”

“Nah,” he protested, but he couldn’t look me in the eye, confirming my theory.

“Right. You think I haven’t noticed how girls find a reason to have you, the great Beau Hardshaw, notice them? It’s quite interesting to watch. It’s like a special mating ritual.”

He chuckled. “Okay, now you’re shitting with me. They do that for your boyfriend.”

“Only an idiot would think Torin could possibly be interested in them,” I said.

This time he laughed. Several students looked at us before disappearing into a room.

“So you’re saying you and Torin are tight?” Beau asked.

I crossed my forefinger and the middle one. “Like that.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d take that as a challenge.”

“And you’d lose. Besides, you have enough girls panting after you.” We reached the lockers and I stopped in front of mine. “One more and your head would explode.”

“You held my hand yesterday outside the cafeteria after deliberately bumping into me,” he shot back.

My face warmed a bit at that. I’d done both and he was full of himself enough to have reached his own conclusion. “It wasn’t deliberate. As for holding your hand, I saw bruises on your arm and knuckles. They looked painful.”

He frowned and I wished I hadn’t brought those up. The whole point was to make him feel at ease so he could ask me to tutor him. Sure I’d blown my chances, I unlocked my locker, retrieved his sweatshirt, and handed it to him. “I found it outside the boys’ locker room and it happens to have your name. Ok bye, unless you want Torin to think you’re hitting on me.” I wiggled my fingers.

“Thanks.” He turned to leave and my heart dropped. Maybe he had someone in mind. Ellie was smart and a senior. McKenzie and I just happened to be one of the few juniors in the AP class.

Beau stopped, pivoted on his heels, and faced me, a sheepish expression on his face. He shoved his hands in his jeans’ front pockets and glanced around as though making sure we were alone. “So, you want to do peer tutoring?”

“Yeah. It will look good on my college application, but the few times I went to the resource room, they had more tutors than students.” I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and started toward the school entrance. He followed. “I didn’t want to hang around, so…”

“Do you
have
to
do it here at the school?”

So that was why he hadn’t attended peer tutoring. Embarrassment. No, an image or reputation thing. Guys like Beau liked to pretend that grades didn’t matter. “When I did it last year, we worked anywhere. My place. Her place. The Hub.”

He was quiet. The front hall was empty and so was the schoolyard. We crossed the road running in front of the school and reached my car first. The parking lot was nearly empty, but his battered Chevrolet truck stood out. It was old and rusty, but I could tell he was trying to take good care of it. Part of it was freshly painted.

“See you around, Beau,” I called out.

He seemed undecided, and then he closed the space between us. “Would you consider tutoring me?”

“You?” I faked surprise. “In what?”

“English lit. Have you read
The Scarlet Letter
?”

I nodded. “First semester. It was a tough one, but I enjoyed it.”

“You’re kidding, right? I hate his style of writing. Anyway, if you can, cool. If you can’t…” he shrugged, but his expression was hopeful.

I pretended to think about it then nodded. “Sure. When do you want to start?”

After we set a time and place, I headed straight to the nearest Petsmart and splurged on everything cat—self-cleaning litter box, odor-control litter, and some of the best food a cat could possibly have. I was tempted to get her a tag since they had a machine for making them right there in the store, but I needed a name first. Fur-ball might get my eyes gouged out.

As though she knew I came bearing her things, she stood at the top of the stairs when I opened the door. “Missed me?” I asked her.

You wish.

“She did,” Femi called from the kitchen. “We watched a little TV but she got bored and went to the window to look outside. Did you get her a flea collar? She could go outside to explore when she has one.”

I placed my purchases at the foot of the stairs. “Yes, but I need a name before I can get her a personalized tag. Where do I put her food and water?”

“The laundry room is large enough. I moved the hampers and created room for her litter box.”

“Good. I don’t want my bedroom smelling like fish.” I went back to the car to get the litter. Mrs. Rutledge pulled up into her driveway and nodded without smiling. I bet she didn’t miss a thing.

No one in our cul-de-sac owned a pet. A few neighbors had dogs when I was young, but I couldn’t remember what had happened to them. Then there was the Labrador on the other side of our backyard fence. The dog ran away so often Eirik and I were convinced dog snatchers, or dognappers as we had called them, got it. I didn’t think my cat was in any danger of being snatched. I was more likely to be scared for anyone crazy enough to kidnap Fur-ball than for the cat herself.

I set up the litter box while she watched. Femi shook her head when she walked by and heard me explain how the box worked. I stashed the rest of the cat food in one of the cabinets, and headed upstairs.

I had an hour of homework, then studies with Lavania.

~*~

I peered into the mansion and listened for the housekeeper. All was quiet. It seemed like she’d already left for the day. I stepped into the room and the mirror portal from my bedroom started to change. My cat left her lofty place by the window and peered at me curiously before the portal disintegrated.

The silence was almost spooky, reminding me of the days when Eirik and his parents had lived here. The Sevilles had tried to act like Mortals, surrounding themselves with expensive paintings and knick-knacks. I’d always known there was something off about them. They’d been cold and standoffish towards everyone, including Eirik, their supposedly adopted child. Turned out I was right. Not only were the Sevilles Immortals from Asgard, they were bound to serve the gods. And their adopted child, my best friend since I was little, had turned out to be the grandson of Odin. How I missed Eirik. I didn’t care that he was a god in his own right. We were raised together, like brother and sister.

I headed for the stairs, hurrying past the living room. The room was more inviting than when Eirik had lived here. The chairs were comfortable and the expensive paintings and works of art had been replaced by more cheerful contemporary pieces, thanks to Lavania. The two story foyer with its winding staircase was still imposing, but I was no longer scared of knocking down a vase or some museum worthy décor.

I headed upstairs and turned left past Andris’ bedroom and into the library. Of course, Andris had chosen a room close to books. The guy was a closet nerd. I’d even spied a pair of glasses by his bedside. Not that he would ever admit to owning a pair or loving books. Ingrid and Lavania’s bedrooms were on the other side of the second floor. Blaine’s and Eirik’s old bedrooms were downstairs by the pool. Torin could have taken Eirik’s room but he chose to stay closer to me.

“I met your cat earlier when I stopped by your place,” Lavania said as soon as I entered the library. The entire wall of the room overlooked the pool below, which wasn’t being used today. The gang wasn’t around. Blaine, being an Immortal, was probably out on an assignment. Ingrid was probably at cheer practice or out with friends.
 
She’d gotten an intern position in New York with some editor, but I didn’t know whether she still planned to take it. She was taking runic lessons from Lavania first.

Andris had turned Ingrid into an Immortal using his personal runic artavo, instead of ones specifically chosen for her. Runes were weird like that. Each person had to use his or her own artavo. If you use someone else’s the effect only lasts a few centuries no matter how often you add runes. Ingrid was only a couple of centuries old, yet a few weeks ago, she’d found out that she was starting to age. Lavania was nice enough to get some artavo for her from Asgard. Lavania was also the one who’d given me my set, which covered artavo for body runes and special ones for surface runes that are used for creating portals or fixing things.

Lavania was what you called an Immortal Maker. She had the authority to rune people, or Mortals as they called them, and turn them into Immortals. It was a long process that took months and lots of runes. I was still etching runes on my skin though not as often as I did seven months ago when she started training me. She’d been doing this a long time. She was the one who’d turned Torin and Andris centuries ago.