 
### Family Magic

### Book One of the Hayle Coven Novels

### Patti Larsen

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 by Patti Larsen

Find out more at www.pattilarsen.com

Purely Paranormal Press

***

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover art (copyright) by Valerie Bellamy. All rights reserved.

http://www.dog-earbookdesign.com

Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at <http://www.wordwebbing.com/>

***

Dedication

It might be odd to dedicate a book to the main character, but so be it.

Syd, sweetie, thank you. I'm doing what I love because you told me it was okay.

***

# Chapter One

I batted at the curl of smoke drifting off the tip of my candle and tried not to sneeze. My heavy velvet cloak fell in oppressive, suffocating folds in the closed space of the ceremony chamber, the cowl trapping the annoying bits of puff I missed. I hated the way my eyes burned and teared, an almost constant distraction. Not that I didn't welcome the distraction, to be honest. Anything to take my mind from what went on around me.

Being part of a demon raising is way less exciting than it sounds.

The bodies of the gathered coven pressed close, shrouded in the same black velvet, the physical weight of their presence making it hard to breathe. I struggled to censor my clichéd thoughts and focus on the task at hand. The glow of other candle flames floated around me, barely lighting faces, enough for a serious case of the creepies. A low hum sounded from every throat, filling the room with an almost physical presence. I participated half-heartedly, wishing I was anywhere but here, knowing despite my personal preferences I had no choice whatsoever.

The group swayed as one as the hum grew in volume. The first hint of power made its way around the half-circle. I felt my own power being drawn away, connected and shared despite my reflexive attempt to pull free. As much as I suppressed my magic from day to day and refused to use it at all, the draw of the coven and my attachment to it made it impossible to deny.

Totally crappy. Especially since anything to do with magic always made me feel slightly nauseated and off balance.

I wiped a smoke-laced tear from the corner of my eye and blinked at the pentagram etched in the stone at my feet. The lines of the star began to glow faintly blue, the candles at each point flaring as though with the heartbeat of the whole, the breath and life of each and every soul in the room. I wondered if anyone ever checked to see if our hearts really did beat in sync. Wouldn't that be special?

I stifled a sigh as a tall, elegant form flowed forward from the circle to the center of the pentagram. She swept back the hood of her cloak, her long, thick and perfect black hair a flawless halo around her gorgeous face. Her eyes glowed with joy, cheeks flushed from the rush of energy coming from the coven, her coven. Miriam Hayle was everything every woman wanted to be. Beautiful, graceful, commanding, the perfect witch, the perfect leader, the perfect everything.

My luck? She was my mother.

I blew on the smoke from my candle as subtly as possible while barely managing to still the jiggle starting in my left knee. Somehow I always ended up in exactly the spot where a tiny little breeze pushed the white vapor the wrong way. A part of me was sure it was somehow contrived that way as an extra level of punishment piled on to my particular little corner of hell. And forget the sacrilege of blowing the candle out. It's not a whole lot of fun being the center of the displeasure of fifty-odd witches of varying power, so I suffered.

Oh believe me, I suffered. Every day, every moment, every breath. I, Sydlynn Hayle, sixteen-year-old All-American girl, was a witch. My mom was a witch. My grandmother was a witch, if a crazy one. My sister, my mom's best friend and every single other person in my life, much to my disappointment, fell in that category, with a couple of exceptions. Lucky me. Except I spent my entire life wanting nothing more than to be normal, average, ordinary and just like everyone else.

Hard to do in a family like mine.

So there I was, another Saturday night, no friends, no social life, just the stupid coven and another stupid coven ritual. Could one girl's life really suck that much?

I glanced down at my little sister as she stared at our Mom, in rapt attention, beaming a smile. Meira glanced up at me, red-tinted skin and amber gaze aglow as the power in the room built, triggering her demon blood. In the 'real world,' Meira had to disguise her unusual coloring, her overlarge eyes and cute little horns peeking out of her silky black curls. Within the safety of the family she was free to be herself and I know she loved it.

I always envied my eight-year-old sister her eagerness to embrace her birthright while I simply did everything I could to ignore it. Easier for me, I suppose, with my plain, dark brown hair and ordinary blue eyes, my white skin and handful of freckles. I did what I could not to look the part, to forget our dad was a demon.

Meira grinned at me, her candle's trail curling perfectly upward toward the ceiling in an endless swirl. I waved at my smoke again, the tickle in the back of my throat and nose getting worse. Meira watched me struggle like she always did. With laughter wrinkling her upturned nose, she waggled her fingers at my candle. I felt her power reach out, the thin film of it forming a delicate tube around the wick. My smoke immediately behaved. She winked before turning back to Mom.

I felt stupid. So that's how they did it...! Sixteen years of this crap, and it took my little sister taking pity on me to finally get the joke. Of course, if I ever paid attention or agreed to do magic, maybe I'd have known about it a long time ago. But the fact my suspicions were so dead on, that Mom obviously instructed the others to let me figure it out on my own or continue to suffer, made me grind my teeth in frustration. She would do anything to get me to use my talent, short of putting me in danger, and I even wondered about that.

I tried to focus on the stupid ceremony and not my urge to throw the dumb candle in her flawless face.

Yeah, that would go over well.

Mom, either unaware or not caring about my present state of mind, raised her arms, robe falling into a perfect puddle at her feet, revealing her model's figure in a black satin gown, polished silver jewelry at wrists and throat. She positively glowed with power, vivid blue eyes in rapture. How pathetically stereotypical. I wanted to throw up.

I felt the strength flow out of me in a rush and struggled as I always did to control the weakness in my knees and the slow roll in my stomach. I tried to catch my breath as secretly as possible, furious this always left me on the verge of passing out. Of course, no one else showed any discomfort, just little old me. I guess knowing how to use your magic and being willing to share made the whole transfer easier. That's me, fight tooth and nail, even to the point of pain.

Sometimes I wondered why I was even invited.

At least I had the diversion of being responsible for my grandmother. She stood next to me, as usual, about as into the whole thing as me, but for different reasons. She hummed softly under her breath, her watery blue eyes crossing and recrossing as she studied the tip of her protruding tongue. She turned to me, wisps of white hair escaping from the edges of her black cloak, fanning back and forth with a life of their own. Her powder white skin fell in crumpled folds, but her expression was pure childishness. She cackled, winning me a silent warning from my mother. I rolled my eyes at Mom before sneaking a caramel out of my pocket and slipping it to Gram. She made a face. Chocolate was her favorite, but I hadn't time to track some down. Okay, honestly, I forgot and raided the candy dish on the way. I prayed the offering would be sufficient.

Ethpeal Hayle had once been an influential witch. When I was just a baby, an evil coven challenged our family. She stood against them alone, cutting herself off to protect the rest of us. The Purity coven fell thanks to her, but the fight scrambled her sanity. So, I waited for the old woman to make up her mind about the candy and tried to be patient. It wasn't her fault she was nuts.

I saw the flicker of rejection as her wrinkled old mouth puckered and knew if I didn't act right then the scene she could create would probably level the house. The fight with the Purities may have left her one fortune cookie short of a combo plate but it did nothing to reduce her power. Knowing I only had one chance, I curled my fingers and started to pull away.

Her hand shot out, dagger-like nails brushing my palm as she snatched the sweet and stuffed it into her face. She grinned at me, nose wrinkling, eyes full of mischief. I tried not to react, knowing yet again we were saved by careful manipulation of my crazy grandmother.

I returned my attention to Mom with some relief as, oblivious to the disaster I averted, she turned slowly, pivoting on manicured toes. I made a face at her fuchsia piggies, just in time to catch her disapproving frown. I could practically hear her whole body screaming at me to pay attention, the little hairs on my arms vibrating from it. I flashed her a half-grimace, half-smile so she would stop. Her expression softened. She turned away. Thankfully. I wasn't sure how long I could keep up the whole fake happy thing without bursting into flames.

She faced the altar at the back of the room and the life-sized stone effigy of an impossibly perfect and handsome man with large muscles and tiny horns on his smooth forehead. She pushed magical force toward it.

"Haralthazar," she glided closer to the statue, "we summon you this third night of Power, nine days and nine nights from Samhain Eve, to tighten our bond with you and your realm." She knelt at the foot of the altar, the picture of the submissive handmaiden. Could she be any more ridiculous? Seriously. "My love, come and be welcome."

The blinding flash leaping from her to the statue continued to pour out of her in a deep blue rush of light. I turned my head slightly to the side, squinting against the glare, grateful for the edge of the cowl and the shadow it made. The whole room started to thrum, the floor vibrating with condensed magic as Mom used the energy we gave her to make the doorway permitting my father through to this plane.

When it happened we all felt it rather than seeing it. The power swirled around us, drawing us all closer, forming us into one entity, one spirit, a seamless conduit to the other dimension. I always hated this part, the total and utter lack of self that came with the opening of the door. Every time I went through it I tried to pull back, but my own demon blood wouldn't allow it. Even more so than the other witches in the room, my being was tied completely and without choice to what was happening at the altar. I was always helpless, tapped into, taken, and ended up on my knees behind my mother, Meira at my side, as the effigy of my father came to life.

The blue flared to gold and Haralthazar, Demon Lord of the Seventh Plane of Demonicon, flushed and filled out. Still with the properties of stone but the appearance of flesh, he materialized from a burst of light as the gateway to his plane slammed open. For a heartbeat he stood there, haloed in the back glow of his dimension before the power propelled him the rest of the way forward and he stepped through and into his statue.

***

# Chapter Two

There was a certain presence to my father, a weight, a physical feeling to being around him that always made me uncomfortable, especially when the door first opened. I hated to admit it, but I think it made me feel that way because I was afraid it could be me someday traveling between worlds.

Haralthazar took the time to look over us. His chiseled face creased in a soft smile, gentle even, welcoming. Hard to believe, but true. My dad was a nice demon. Forget the whole pit of burning despair thing. Demons simply come from another plane, a different realm of existence. There are good guys and bad guys like here on Earth. Lucky for us, when my Mom decided to go unconventional even before the attack left her own mother crippled, she fell in love with Dad.

He raised one arm over Mom. She stiffened as the energy rippled out of her in visible strings of light, flowing over the pentagram and back into each of us. I flinched as the thread hit me, out of breath and more than a little dizzy. Dad always gave back more than he took, at least to me.

"My love, well met." He bent and took my mother's hand, helping her to her feet. "Miriam, rise and stand with me."

She took her place beside him. Emotion swirled between them. Dad beamed at us.

"I am well pleased, my friends," he said. "Our coven grows and is strong. I offer power to the bond and love and protection to you all."

"Our thanks to you," the crowd murmured, my voice joining slightly late.

He turned to me.

"Sydlynn Hayle," he held out one hand, "come to your father."

This part always made me feel like I was being dissected by all the eyes staring into my back. I despised being the center of attention. There was a definite slouch in my stance as I climbed to my feet and dragged myself unhappily to my parents.

"The first gift of our joining, welcome and my thanks for the sharing of power. With you, our light grows."

"You bet." My father frowned for an instant, enough to make me feel like a spoiled rotten little kid. How did he do that? I was happily cynical with my mother but Dad could reduce me to a child with one raised eyebrow. I guess he was mostly a great father and a really good guy and I hated disappointing him.

I drew a breath and tried harder.

"My light to you," I said, louder.

He smiled secretly. I smiled back as he bent over me and touched his lips to my forehead.

"Hi, cupcake," he whispered through the official kiss. "How's soccer going?"

Seriously. Cupcake. "Fine, thanks," I whispered back. "And you can stop calling me that."

He grinned pure evil.

"Whatever you say. Cupcake."

Ooh. Dads.

"Don't piss off your mother," he said.

"Doing my best." I rolled my eyes.

Dad straightened up and addressed the group.

"This is my child, truly born, a member of this coven. Who speaks against her?"

In the silence that followed, I half-heartedly hoped someone would kick me out.

"All is well," he said. "Our love to you, Sydlynn Hayle."

I made a face at him for the whole stupid thing.

"Thanks," I said. Dad dropped a small wink as I stepped back.

"Meira Hayle, come forward."

My sister stepped up eagerly. I heard her soft giggle as our father repeated the kiss he gave me. I'd ask her later what he said to make her laugh. Not that I'd ever admit it, but we didn't get to see our father all that often and I was a bit jealous of her time spent with him.

Dad straightened over her.

"This is my child, truly born, and a member of this coven. Who speaks against her?"

Meira must have said something cute because our dad struggled not to laugh in the silence.

"All is well," he repeated. "Our love to you, Meira Hayle."

Meira stepped back, her little hand slipping into mine. She grinned up at me as the ceremony continued.

I tried not to laugh when Gram, up next, planted a wet, sticky one on him. He had the good nature to hug her back and smile at her with real warmth and love. She tottered back to us, so pleased with herself she wriggled like a little girl.

I struggled with a case of the fidgets as the validation process continued but couldn't help the impatient shift from sneaker to sneaker making its way through my defenses. Witch after witch, male and female alike, professed their undying love and loyalty to our family, etcetera, and so on, ad nausem. It took forever. And to think we had to go through this twice a year. According to Mom, with the dying of the summer at Samhain and its rebirth at Beltane, the connection between our plane and Dad's was closest. It made the bonding easier and more powerful.

Blah, blah, blah.

The only problem? It was the epitome of boring. Besides, I had homework to do. I could hardly explain to my science teacher I didn't get my chemistry done because I was helping my coven renew its bond with my demon father. Who knew? Maybe Mr. Sinclair would give me a better mark if he thought I packed that kind of firepower.

Finally, and I do mean finally, the ceremony ended with the last of them stepping back from Haralthazar. He turned to my mother. The love in their eyes as they gazed at each other was, if I have to be totally honest, sickening and way over the top.

"My love." He held her hands to his chest, the top of her head reaching his chin, the flawless, perfect lovers, channeling a bad romance novel.

Meira poked me. I knew I was making faces in disgust. It was just so embarrassing. Normal people didn't do that kind of thing in public. Meira and I exchanged a knowing smirk and I pretended to gag.

"My life," Mom said with bated breath.

Another grimace. Meira giggled.

"Our circle is whole. Our power is renewed, and our love." Even Dad was in on the nonsense.

"Yours always, my love." Mom stretched up on her tiptoes.

I quickly found something else to look at, horrified by the open attraction my parents had no problem sharing with the rest of us. Didn't they get public displays of affection were the height of icky? I'm sure if it were me, I'd be grounded.

Meira sniggered and made a little kissing noise. I choked on a laugh and had to struggle not to cough.

Dad winked at us.

"My people, my family, I embrace you with my love." I felt the warmth flow through me as his presence wrapped around us all. It made me want to fidget again but this time I won.

"Love to you," we all said at once. I hated this part, too, and did my best not to battle against the power flowing in a great circle from one witch to the next, passing between us like a hug, connecting us in ways too personal for my liking. I shuddered when it was done, skin crawling. Personal space meant nothing to them.

"Joy and peace to you all."

"And to you," I murmured along with the others. I glared at my candle and fought the urge to run away.

"We are one," he said.

"And the same," the coven answered.

"Power to blood." Dad raised his arms.

"Blood to power." The coven swayed.

"Family for eternity." I scowled at him.

"Family forever," I stared him down, but this time he wasn't smiling. I didn't like the serious expression on his face but shrugged at him. He finally looked away.

"Joined together, my soul to your soul, my heart to your heart, past, present and future, one and the same."

The coven sighed as a whole as the warmth slowly left. Dad lowered his arms and embraced Mom. She turned, a light sheen of sweat on her cheeks and a huge smile on her face.

"Thank you all."

The crowd murmured and started blowing out candles. My stomach slowly unclenched as I extinguished mine with relief and tossed it at Meira.

"Thanks, Meems."

She blew delicately at her own, leaving behind a heart in her smoke. I poked it with my finger, but couldn't break it. We looked up together at our parents and for a heartbeat the four of us connected, just us, in the remains of the power in the room.

I actually felt like I belonged.

***

# Chapter Three

Someone had to switch on the light. I found the sudden brightness oddly offensive. And, what's worse, the slender thread holding us snapped and I shivered in my robe, empty and cold. It bothered me I could get so wrapped up in the illusion of candlelight. When it broke and reality came back it was always disappointing to find myself in an ordinary basement.

Not that the magic was a sham, quite the opposite. In fact, it was way too real for me, always had been. Ever since I could remember I resisted who and what I was. Moments like the one I just shared gave me the creeps, even if they felt good at the time. What was I thinking? Normal. The ultimate goal was to be normal. My parents might be able to force me to do this song and dance for a couple more years, but eighteen here I come.

I winced as one of the men stumbled against a cardboard box marked "China." A soft tinkle whispered of something delicate shattering. I guess it was fitting.

The crowd dissolved into a group of 'just folks', shedding their robes, revealing jeans and business suits underneath, as conversation started.

"...had a chance to try out the new babysitter? She's a pet..."

"...was sure the boys would pull their socks up this year, but so far they're still at the bottom of the league..."

"...love your new shoes! What's the name of the store..."

It amazed me they could simply shrug off the residue of power, the huge and scary stuff we did, and go back to an 'ordinary' life without even a hint of the truth showing through.

I, on the other hand, was terrible at it, like most everything else in my screwed up life. It seemed like after every ceremony I attended it took me a couple of days to stop dropping bits of magic here and there. Nothing major or the coven would take steps, but enough to reinforce my absolute resolve to get out of this crazy life forever.

I shucked out of my robe with relief. The only things keeping me from leaving it in an unruly puddle on the floor were my mother's eagle eyes and her crooked finger summoning me closer. I was so tempted to do it, to see what would happen, what she would do, say, to piss her off. I was in that kind of headspace, a mother-baiting mood usually starting so innocently and ending in punishment and tears. But, instead, to keep my father happy, I slouched toward them as Mom addressed the crowd.

"Snacks in the kitchen. Erica, will you open the wine, please?"

Erica Plower, my mom's best friend and second, waved as she left, shiny blonde bob swinging. I ignored the pointed glare she shot at me before leaving, knowing I would have her smart comments to deal with later. At least Mom had a good friend, but because Erica knew us all so well sometimes it felt like I had two mothers.

Personally, I figured the one I had was more than enough.

The crowd followed Erica, moving to the stairs, talk getting louder as the real world finally took over and the hungry horde made its way out of the basement. Gram, her ears perked by the mention of food, dashed from my side before I could stop her and pushed her way through the rest of the crowd. She disappeared through the door and I heard her badgering Erica for chocolate. Meanwhile, Mom slipped her arm around my shoulders and hugged me a little harder than necessary as she smiled at the exiting group. No escape for me. Meira hovered near Dad, as if she knew something was coming but was too young to realize it would probably dissolve into a mess she shouldn't witness.

In fact, from the expression on Mom's face I was sure Meira should leave before we tore into it. But as I drew a breath to make that very suggestion, the last of the coven vanished up the stairs and Mom turned me bodily toward her, a frown creasing her perfect face.

"Thank you for your enthusiastic participation, young lady." She tried very hard to be stern, but my mom didn't do stern very well. It came across as huffy.

"You're welcome."

Her eyes flashed fire, normal Mom fire, not the magic stuff. Dad chuckled. She spun on him. He held up his hands for protection.

"Miriam," he started.

"Harry!" She finished.

It dissolved into them sweetly gazing at each other. Would my time in family hell never end?

"Can I go?" I glared back and forth between them. "I have homework."

Mom crossed her arms over her chest.

"You would think you didn't want to see your father, Sydlynn."

"Mom... "

"Of course she does," Dad said, "don't you, Syd?"

"I love seeing you, Dad." I really meant it.

Mom softened a little, but I knew the dangerous stuff was still to come. The crying and yelling stuff. To be honest, it was getting to the point where I hardly listened anymore. The same old, same old. And yet, there was obviously more ammunition on the way. I braced myself for the guilt trip and held on.

"This ceremony is very important to the family. You know that."

"Yes, Mother." She hated it when I called her Mother. What was wrong with me? I was only making things worse for myself, prolonging my grief. I zipped up and hoped she'd give me a pass.

She glared as I shifted from one foot to the other, the cloak getting heavier and hotter in my arms, hoping the expression on my face radiated innocence.

No such luck.

"And yet again, you have this... attitude."

I gritted my teeth and tried to keep a calm expression. More attitude would make her crazy and I'd end up grounded or a frog or something.

Unfortunately, my brain and my mouth had a miscommunication.

"Yeah, Mom," I said. "It's called 'I don't give a crap.'"

Mom's face crumpled. Oh damn, the waterworks. My mother was a freaking supernatural faucet.

She reached out and brushed her fingertips over my cheek. "You have been fighting your power your whole life. Would it hurt you to participate just once? We're your family, honey."

"We've had this conversation." I tried to keep my voice low and rational and succeeded not badly. "You know I don't want to be a witch. If you would let me give up my powers now instead of making me wait until I'm eighteen, you wouldn't have to worry about it anymore."

Mom's eyes brimmed. "So this is my fault? I'm a terrible mother for bringing you into the world, for cursing you to be a witch and not letting you go?"

"Oh, for... seriously, Mom, this is getting so old." The drama was far too familiar and wore me thin. I tried to take a step back, but her power caught and held me. No way! I struggled against her, furious.

"Let go!"

"How can I let you go?" She cried, tears coursing in elegant lines down her face. How could she be so perfect in everything, even crying? My anger cranked up a notch.

"If you really loved me, you would."

Mom looked like I slapped her. I'd never used that line before and wished I could take it back, especially since Dad's expression matched my mom's. As a matter of fact, so did Meira's.

"Miriam, Syd, I think that's enough." Dad slid an arm around Mom while my sister leaned into his free side. Talk about a united front. I felt like a huge wall stood between them and me and knew I was as responsible for its construction as they were.

Mom cried openly. For the first time she was a real person in real pain. I felt like crap, but I was determined to keep the ground I gained. This was my chance to cut myself free.

"Is it really that horrible?" Mom's eyes were red rimmed. I'd pay for that. "Being what we are?"

"I don't want to be what you are," I said, voice barely registering calm. Barely.

"Why not?" Mom's confusion was genuine. I knew that.

I had two choices. I could go easy on her and lie about how I really felt like I always did. Or, I could open my big mouth and say the exactly the wrong thing, purposely breaking her heart.

Guess which one I picked.

"I don't want to be a monster!"

I thought Mom was stunned before. Dad reached for me, but dropped his hand. Meira started to cry.

"Syd," Dad whispered, "whatever gave you the impression you were a monster?"

Was he serious? Had he looked in the mirror lately?

"Dad," I stretched out the word, trying to add weight to it, to make him understand. "You are a demon. Exactly where is the descriptive confusion here?"

Dad didn't answer. He didn't have to. I was on a bridge-burning roll, uh-huh. Might as well finish the demolition and ride the flames like a cleansing pyre.

"I hate what we can do. I hate the way it feels and I want out! Why can't you understand that?"

I totally lost my temper. Bad to worse in a mere instant. Why did Mom have to pick right then to challenge me? Why couldn't she let it go like she always did? I wasn't prepared for this conversation, especially not with her. It would have been easier with just my dad and me. I could have made him understand. But my mom and I knew each other's buttons and which ones were atomic.

Case in point.

Dad gave me the Father face, the angry Father face. I knew I finally found his button, too.

"I want you to apologize to your mother, young lady. This is hard enough on her as it is."

Hard on my mother? Hard on my mother?! I am embarrassed to admit I suddenly and completely lost it. I dropped my robe on the floor in front of them with deliberate determination and crossed my arms over my chest.

"You have me until I'm eighteen. You know what happens then. You've always known. When the choice is mine, I'm done with magic, once and for all. If that means I'm done with you too, I guess that's the way it has to be. End of story."

I turned and walked away. I actually walked away. When I hit the bottom step, my heart felt like it was breaking, but I would not give in. Would not. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, breathing a little heavy, not wanting to look back, knowing this conversation always ended with my mom crying and my dad upset. And worse, this time, because I finally told the truth. But I did turn back, if only for one reason. Dad, his power to remain with us almost used up, would be leaving soon, and I wanted to at least let him know I wasn't angry with him.

"Nice to see you, Dad," I said and left.

***

# Chapter Four

I spent the whole of the rest of my evening fuming and avoiding my mother, in that order. I think she must have been feeling the same way because we only bumped into each other once in the kitchen. I did ten minutes of my covenly duty at the party before heading for my room. I tried not to feel sorry for myself when I felt the rush of departing magic when Dad went home to Demonicon. It totally sucked. We didn't get a whole lot of time with him anyway. It took so much energy to bring him across that his visits were short and usually scheduled. And I'd missed most of it.

Mom came up from the basement while I headed for the stairs. Neither of us said a word. I have no idea if she tried to make eye contact because I absolutely refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing I cared if she looked or not. Yes, I know, childish. If that was what it took.

I didn't even have the distraction of soccer. My team wasn't playing which meant I was stuck for an excuse to get out of the house.

There's only one problem with moping in your room for a whole day with no one to talk to. You have no one to talk to. Seeing as Meira was also avoiding me and I didn't have any friends to speak of in our new town, it left me, myself, and I with no other company than my rapidly deteriorating thoughts.

I was never so happy to pull the covers over my head and call it a day. I felt way sorrier for myself than I ever had before. Not to say I cried myself to sleep, but there were definitely tears involved in the whole pathetic process.

My life was so unfair it made me want to break something.

I was startled out of my mourning by a weight landing on the bed, followed by a loud hiss barely preceding something sharp catching the sleeve of my pajamas. A heavy, fluffy tail whacked me full in the face as the claws retracted and let me go. I spit out fur and hit the light by my bed, relieved to have something to finally laugh about as the offended party huffed and snarled next to me.

The lamp flared to life. I stifled a giggle behind my hands. My silver Persian, Sassafras, hunched in an undignified heap next to me. His plush, silky fur stood on end, pushed-in nose glistened between eyes snapping anger, plume of a tail thrashing against the patchwork quilt as he growled at me.

"I go away for one day and you lose it!" Sassafras swiped at me with one paw.

I rolled over onto my side and tried to pet him. "Maybe if you were here, Sassy, none of this would have happened."

I pulled back and sucked on the finger he scratched.

"Don't you even suggest this is my fault!"

"Can we please let it go? I'm tired of the whole conversation." I wasn't in the mood to argue with my cat.

"I happen to be trapped in this stupid cat body, in case you've forgotten," he said, gaze flashing red fire as the spirit within him kindled. "Stuck in this house with you. And you're making me look bad. How am I supposed to convince them to let me go back if you won't smarten up?"

Sassafras was, in reality, a demon teenager, a boy so horrible the demon elders punished him by placing him in the body of an ordinary house cat. Okay, maybe not ordinary. He was a Persian, after all. As much as I wanted to know why and how he was forced into it, he never said. Not to me and not to the generations of Hayle witches who had the pleasure of Sassafras for company over the decades.

"So after what, 150 years or so, they were finally going to let you out, but because I had a fight with my parents it's a no-go? Sass, I'm hurt you didn't tell me."

I probably shouldn't have been teasing him, but it was way too easy. Sass's ears flattened to his skull. "Oh, shut up."

Truth was, I don't think they ever planned to let him out. Which made me feel guilty for being mean to him.

"I'm sorry, Sassy."

He hissed at me, fat cat body relaxing somewhat as the initial reaction wore off. The tail continued its thrashing against the covers.

"Don't call me Sassy."

I grabbed him and hugged him to me, burying my face in his soft, thick fur, trapping him in my arms. I grinned as he struggled, snuggling him closer.

"Oh Sassy," I said in my cutest little girl voice, "you're my bestest friend ever!"

When I released him, he spun around, shaking with anger. I tried really hard not to laugh, but it was next to impossible with him staring me down, pushed-in face a study in crankiness, fluffy fur quivering. I simply couldn't take Sass seriously.

The worst part? Sassafras knew it and despised it. Was being punished with it. I certainly wasn't helping matters any.

I pulled myself under control and tried to make amends.

"Seriously, Sass, I'm sorry. But I didn't have a choice. They backed me into a corner."

He huffed a breath and wrapped his tail around his paws, deep in his haughty cat manner. The tip of his tail continued to twitch, but the rest of him appeared under control.

"You always have a choice," he said. "And now I'm suffering the consequences."

"Like what?" I felt less than sympathetic.

"Like spending the last two hours comforting your traumatized sister."

Oops.

"She won't talk to me." I wasn't proud of it, but there it was.

"Can you blame her?"

"No," I said, falling back into miserable. "I didn't want to have that talk in front of her, but... they wouldn't let me go. I didn't think it would hurt her that much."

"Now, that's hardly surprising," he said. "Thinking isn't exactly your strong suit, is it, Sydlynn?"

Sass lifted one forepaw and began to lick it with delicate strokes of his very pink tongue. I think his show of superiority calmed his nerves. I wrinkled my nose at him and rested my head on my arm. There was something about the act of watching him I found soothing.

"Not last night, at least." I reached out one hand and touched his tail. He batted at me out of principle and started washing his other paw.

"Both feet in your mouth this time?"

Sometimes his arrogance pissed me off. Not tonight. He was right and we both knew it. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of a reply, I kept watching him. "You are so cute when you do that."

Sass froze and glared, dropping his paw with a flicker of guilt in the twitch of his whiskers.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He stalked down the bed, back to me. "There's nothing cute about me."

I stifled a giggle as the offending paw came up again. He compulsively licked away at the imaginary dirt.

"Oh Sass, I needed this. Thanks."

Sassafras turned back to me, curious.

"Tell me you didn't make your mother cry?"

I buried my face in the quilt. Sass groaned, large ears twitching as he made his way back up the bed to me.

"I didn't mean to," I said, muffled by the heavy blanket. "She's just... so... ah!"

"You never mean to, Syd." His voice was soft by my ear.

I turned my head and we were eye to eye. "Yeah. I know. Maybe if she'd drop the company line we'd stop using each other for target practice."

Sassafras curled up next to me, tail swept tightly to his round cat body, eyes careful.

"You know you can't keep doing this. You need to accept who you are and take responsibility for your actions. You're almost a grown woman. No one is feeling sorry for you anymore."

"You're awfully opinionated for a fur ball, Sass."

"I have been guiding Hayle witches for generations," he reminded me at his most haughty. "You are the only one who refuses to pay attention and take her rightful place."

"With all the joy that implies," I said.

"It's your birthright," he said. "There is no one else, Syd."

"Meira is more than strong enough. And she's willing. So there, cat."

Sass growled low in his throat, glaring at me, tail twitching again. "Do you really think they will allow a witch with a physical manifestation to take over the coven?"

"Sorry?" I felt goose bumps rise on my arms as his power snapped in anger.

"Honestly, Sydlynn," he said, "you are so out of touch with the network."

"Duh. My point exactly."

His amber eyes fixed on me unblinking in his cat way that made me squirm in discomfort.

"Your sister will never lead this family," Sass told me, so matter-of-fact I was forced to listen. "If you choose to step aside, the coven will leave Hayle control forever."

"As if. Sass, you are so paranoid."

"I know them far better than you do," he said with some bitterness. "Witches do not accept outsiders easily and resist any change to their natural order."

"So? I don't care, remember? I want out."

"Then you are effectively handing over the strength of the most powerful coven in the West to whoever is deemed worthy at the time," he said. "Do you understand what that means?"

"You're obviously going to fill me in."

"You'll be cutting your mother's throat," he said. "And any other Hayle witch remaining alive."

I made a face at him. "They would never hurt her. You're so full of crap."

I started to get up, but his paw hooked my sleeve and pulled me back down.

"Have you ever seen a witch stripped?" His face turned intense, even for a Persian, eyes glowing. "Cleaned out, reduced to nothing?"

"No."

"I have," he said, "the last time the magic changed hands. To your family."

I settled back on the bed, curious. "You were here with the Tremere's?" Even I knew basic history. But, I always thought Sass was a Hayle addition.

He snorted. "You have no idea." He pulled his paw back. "None. Of what they can do, what they are capable of. Of the interference a change in power can attract from the High Council. Of the disruption it can cause in our world and to the normals. It's not a small thing, Syd. Not a trifle, not something to be tossed away simply because you don't want it. There are far more serious repercussions in this than your parents have been willing to tell you."

Okay. He had me curious, I was willing to admit it. And a little afraid, to be honest. "Then fill me in."

He glared at me again, silent. Sassafras stood and turned away, curling up with his back to me.

"I thought you weren't interested."

I groaned. Stupid cat.

"Sass..."

"Forget it," he said. "Go on your merry way and forget we all exist. Let your coven fall to ruin, your family be stripped bare and left to pick the bones of its own carcass. You've always been selfish, Sydlynn. Why change now?"

"Selfish!" I gave his tail a firm tug, so hard he leapt up and spun on me. "You rotten little fuzz ball!"

"Selfish! Petulant, childish, ignorant, arrogant—"

"Oh, I'm arrogant!" How dare he, the puffed up, self-important snot? "I just want to be normal. Unlike you, mister nose-in-the-air, better than anyone else!"

Sass sat and wrapped his thick tail around himself, pulling his best perfect Persian.

"It's in the breeding," he said. "Obviously, you were a throw-back. Pity, really."

"Like you even give a crap," I said. "You know how using my magic makes me feel." My hand went instinctively to my stomach as memory flashed and my stomach tightened in answer.

"Ah, yes." He flicked his ears at me. "Poor Sydlynn's dear tummy troubles. Tell me, little girl, do you need your mommy?"

If I could have, if I thought I would get away with it, I would have dunked his fluffy butt in a full tub of water just to see that smug smirk wiped from his face. But, he would use magic on me and we'd end up attracting unwanted attention over a stupid fight I knew I couldn't win.

Instead, I chose a subtler means of attack. I reached out and gently stroked his fur from head to tail.

His gaze widened a little, narrowed, lids drooping as I found a sensitive place to scratch. A soft purr escaped him. His eyes half closed. They snapped open a moment later and the purr stopped.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Would I do that?" I continued to stroke him, my fingers finding the itchy place behind his left ear. The purr started up again, rumbling louder. His lids closed all the way. I smiled as he leaned into my fingers while trying to continue the conversation.

"Your mother... knows what's best for... little to the right, please, yes perfect... for the family... for you... the chin is really bothersome tonight, could you...?"

I grinned and followed his instructions. His body relaxed completely. He half rolled onto his back so I could rub his furry tummy. His whole posture was a study in pure contentment. His eyes drifted open and closed, clouded by pleasure.

I couldn't help it. I giggled. Sass snapped back to himself and twisted free, pinning me with his hot demon glare.

"Damned cat body."

It really was impossible to resist. I giggled some more.

Sassafras leapt to his feet and sniffed at me, at his most pompous.

"Fine," he said, "be a child. Betray your family, your history, but don't come crying to us when you change your mind and nothing can be done."

Sassafras gathered himself up and jumped from the end of the bed. I watched him sashay across the carpet to the closed door. He paused, staring at it. I stifled a huge grin. He sighed with great regret, not looking at me.

"If you don't mind," he said. "It's very hard to make an exit when I can't reach the door knob."

"How'd you get in?" I knew the answer. His glare turned flat and chilly. "Use your magic," I said at my most innocent.

He growled softly under his breath. "You know it's against the rules," he said very slowly, very carefully.

He was so transparent. Heaven forbid I ever see him do magic. He used the excuse he wasn't allowed, which was kind of true seeing as pure demon magic interfered with ours, but I knew the truth. From what I had been able to get out of my mother, the act of using his power put him in an embarrassing physical position. He was, after all, a cat, not a demon anymore. The idea of it often kept me up nights, devoured by curiosity, but I had never been able to catch him at it.

I went to the door and opened it for him, still trying not to laugh.

"Thank you," he said at his most aloof.

Head high, tail at full mast, and with as much dignity as he could gather around him, Sassafras waddled his fat cat body out of my room.

I barely had time to close the door and fling myself onto my bed, before breaking into laughter, smothering most of it in my pillow.

I laughed for a good minute, tears soaking into the cotton case as I let the last of the tension leave me completely. I rolled over onto my back when I regained control and let go of a cleansing breath, staring at the hideous light fixture my mother hung for me despite my protests. Stupid pink chandelier with its stupid pink crystals and sparkly stars. Who did she think I was? I really hated it, I think more so because Mom insisted. The story of my life with the Hayle coven. Do what's good for you because we said so. The more I turned it over in my mind the more I totally understood it wasn't so much my ability but the absolute weight of expectation, a literal force of gravity on my shoulders, pushing me down into a mold of their making.

I had a chill at the thought of my family reduced to nothing because of my decisions. I finally shook it off. Sass just exaggerated to try to make me feel bad.

At least, that was what I told myself.

***

# Chapter Five

When I woke up in the morning, two things hit me. One, I wasted my sunny Sunday on being stupid and two, now it was Monday and I had to go to school. I groaned and covered my eyes with my arm to block out the cheerful sun. Surely there was a way to rewind the last day and do it over again?

Somehow, I didn't think Mom would get the concept.

I pulled myself out of bed. One great thing about our new house, I shared a bathroom with Meira and she was too young to appreciate it.

I tried to avoid looking at myself in the mirror, knowing I wouldn't like what I saw staring back at me. Despite the fact I was still a little peeved at my mom, I knew I overreacted. I just didn't know what to do to fix it. If I tried to apologize, she'd get all squishy and cry and want to hug me and tell me she loved me. Whatever. But if I let it go on too long... oh, the guilt would be legendary.

I decided to bite the bullet as I attacked my teeth with my toothbrush, managing to finally look myself in the eye. I wanted to get it over with so at least one dreadful part of the day could be done before the true horror started.

I dressed carefully, neatly even, not my typical weekend fare of 'who cares if it matches'. I wasn't dressing for Mom's benefit or even my own. I selected only those items I hoped would help me pass as normal. Designer jeans just the right rise, a logo t-shirt that fit a little too tight, trendy belt I wouldn't normally be caught dead in and high-heeled sandals—see belt. I checked my makeup and hair in my mirror and added a touch of pale pink lip-gloss before tossing the tube in my up-to-date book bag. I'll say one thing for Mom, she would buy me anything I asked for. Thank goodness she stopped insisting on helping me pick out clothes. If she had her way, I'd stand out even more than I did. Might as well have tattooed 'freak' across my forehead. Bad enough most normals can 'feel' a witch's aura even if they don't know what we are. Most normals feel uncomfortable around us and don't know why. Everything I did screamed average, ordinary, All-American girl and I was still labeled as an outcast at school. If I pushed down my power any further, I'd fall asleep.

I inspected the final ensemble and shrugged. Best I could do.

I made it to the kitchen before Meira went to the bus. I forced her to at least hug and kiss me before leaving, though she squirmed and made faces the whole time. She wouldn't meet my gaze and I could tell she already spent some time that morning in tears.

Meira donned her human appearance and ran to catch her ride to school. She made normal seem so easy. She could cast the illusion of pale white skin and dark blue eyes, smudging out her cute little horns in the process so the other girls in her grade didn't run screaming. Her real appearance would have sent the whole school screaming, for that matter. I watched out the window as she waved at a pair of other little coven girls and took a seat next to them, talking rapidly and laughing as the bus pulled away.

"No fair," I whispered. Meira was better at all of it than me. Not to mention the fact most of the other kids in the group were either way younger or way older than I was. So, no instant friends for me, but at least she was able to feel like she fit in somewhere.

By the time I turned around to talk to Mom and get it over with, she had already left. I stood there in the streaming sunlight. I tried to find balance between the normalness of the modern kitchen and the secret of our real lives. How to compare gleaming stainless steel appliances covered in Meira's drawings, bright, cheery cupboards and whimsical mugs painted with daisies against the reality of magic? What did lace curtains have to do with who we were? China and place settings? Why was there such a divide for me between who I wanted to be and who I was forced to pretend to be? I had never been able to find a balance, to accept the melding of the two and knew it was part of the reason I struggled so much with being a witch.

That train of thought took me nowhere. I shook it off and briefly considered tracking my mother down. I decided to leave it until after school. As it was, I barely had time after my excessive primping routine to grab a granola bar and my lunch bag and hit the pavement to make it the six blocks to school before the first bell.

October was already almost over. The quiet town of Wilding Springs, Pennsylvania, displayed cute ghosts, witches and carved pumpkins on every doorstep. The weather was still perfect, warm during the day, cooler at night, but I saw the trees turning colors on my walk to school and regretted the coming of winter, mostly because it meant the end of the outdoor soccer season.

Wilding Springs seemed like a typical small town, with one exception. The place was so clean it sparkled. Old brick buildings filled the historic center, all trimmed in pristine white. Cobbled stones polished with age made up the main street, perfectly maintained despite having been there for well over a century. Cute shops stuffed with offerings from local artists, homemade baked goods and touristy trinkets lined the picture quality little town square. There wasn't a mall to be seen, the closest one a twenty-minute ride on the interstate. Any outward appearance of modern life hid gently behind history and tasteful cheer. It reminded me so much of a movie set I kept looking around for the camera crew.

This was also the first town we lived in I felt had an air of the supernatural all its own. I knew my mom checked it before our last move, but I couldn't help but get the feeling we now lived in the land of make-believe. The residents were too much, their lives too charming. Everyone had a home that looked like gingerbread cutouts of cuteness, scrolling detail at eave and doorway. Each neat, tidy lawn freshly mowed, the people friendly to a fault.

Everyone else assimilated nicely, even commenting on how sweet and lovely Wilding Springs could be. Everyone except... okay. Never mind. We had only been living there for a month, but I already established myself as the weird Junior who tried too hard. At least, that was my impression. I stopped smiling at people on my walk to school and adopted the blank expression I saw on the faces of the other students. Problem with moving to a small town, everyone knows everyone and no one wants to hang out with the weird new girl who didn't fit in anywhere, least of all her own coven. Sadly enough, I didn't want to hang out with me, either, so I could hardly blame them.

I was way past tired of moving from town to town and being forced to start over. Just another of the things I swore to myself I would put an end to when I turned eighteen and was on my official 'list of things Syd will never do to her own kids ever.' But when you live in a family of witches, weird stuff happens, stuff which might accidentally involve the neighbors, which means a quick move in the middle of the night to a whole new state so no one gets arrested.

Normals usually don't want to know magic is happening across the street, but if you shove their noses in it, things can get ugly. Last time was Gram's fault. A little mid-day spell at the local hairdresser. I'm sure the blue eventually washed out of that lady's hair. Served her right, though, for being nasty.

The time before that had been my mom's doing, but she was defending Meira so I totally got it.

Needless to say, due to one mistake or another, I was forced countless times to start at a new school, suss out the cool kids, try to make new friends and just generally fit in.

I'm not very good at it. And high school is a singular kind of hell. Don't get me wrong. I used to try really hard, seeing each move as an opportunity, a chance to finally belong. But trying too hard can come across as pathetic and desperate, which I am good at. Being pegged as the new freak over and over can take a toll on a girl. I finally reached the point where if I couldn't join them, I could at least blend in with the scenery.

And part of me now worried about fitting in. What if I found the perfect town, the perfect friends and suddenly—gasp!— had some level of popularity, then someone in the coven screwed up and we had to move away from my dream life?

Not to say I'm suicidal, but I'd have to slit my wrists.

I made it to the school steps without incident and considered it a victory. I kept my head down as I moved past the cool girls who waited for the football team to grace them with their presence. It was only because I had my eyes suitably glued to the concrete that I managed to catch myself from tripping over the foot 'accidentally' in my path.

"Oops," Alison Morgan, a perfect blonde, blue-eyed cheerleader in designer everything, smirked at her friends when I made the mistake of eye contact. "Sorry."

I ducked my head again to hide the flush of embarrassment, rushing inside to avoid any further humiliation. Alison was notorious for starting mild and ending up with her target of choice in helpless tears, so I didn't want to give her the chance to work her own particular brand of magic.

I was in such a hurry to escape I ended up plowing full-tilt into a dark blue football jacket. The victim turned and I found myself staring in horror at Brad Peters, Senior, football hero and all around perfect yummy chunk of teenage girl's dream.

I tried to apologize but Brad, dreamy Brad, smiled at me like he really meant it. I knew what it felt like to melt. He had the most amazing green eyes, clear and light, almost transparent. The skin around them crinkled a little. His wavy blonde hair perfectly framed his tanned, square-jawed face. I tried not to stare at the adorable cleft in his chin for too long, right at my eye level, but gazing into his eyes was much too dangerous and I had to choose my battles.

Speaking of which, while I stammered and stuttered and tried not to totally fall to pieces, Alison and her cronies appeared around us. I mentally screamed at myself for being such a stupid idiot while Alison put a possessive hand on Brad's arm and gave me her sweetest smile, a sure sign she decided to attack with all barrels blazing. Why did she have to be dating him? Why?

I braced myself for the onslaught.

"You need to be more careful, Syd," Alison said, voice absolutely dripping sugar. "We're starting to worry about you."

The other cheerleaders laughed. The temperature in the hall rose rapidly.

No wait, that was just me.

"Sorry," I said, making an attempt to escape. Alison's friends blocked my exit route.

"Are you okay, Brad?" Alison stroked his white leather sleeve, pouting so hard her lip-gloss buckled.

"I'm fine, really. Are you okay, Syd?" Brad seemed seriously concerned.

At any other moment I would have given an arm and most of both legs to have Brad Peters care one iota about me, but his timing was terrible.

I prayed for a pit to open up and swallow me.

"I'm fine," I said. "Sorry again."

"Don't worry about it," Brad said. "I was in your way."

I stared at him.

"A bunch of us are getting together after school," he went on. "At the diner. Want to come?"

Was my hearing defective? Was I delusional? Dreaming? Head injury from the impact? Surely, he hadn't meant to invite me to hang out with him and the pops.

I think Alison was more shocked than me. She recovered quicker, though.

"Yes, Syd," she said, anger flashing in her eyes. "Why don't you join us?"

Um, let's see. Complete and utter social suicide or loneliness? I totally took the hint.

"Thanks," I said. "But I can't."

"Mommy won't let you?" Alison asked in a baby voice. Her friends giggled. Brad frowned at her.

"Maybe next time," he said to me. "We go pretty much every day."

I sought out an escape route that failed to appear. Why did he have to do this to me there, then? My face burned.

"Yeah," I stammered and stuttered over my words, "s-s-ure. Maybe."

"Aw, too bad," Alison offered me a tight grin. "Next time, then."

"I guess," I whispered, staring at the floor so hard I was sure a pit would open any second.

"Leave it, Alison," Brad said. I almost dropped from the shock. The girls gasped.

Alison stared at him in utter disbelief before barely composing herself. She turned her attention back to me and gave me a smile that didn't reach anywhere above her lips.

"Whatever you want, Brad." She turned to her girls and started to walk away. I felt the tension drain from my shoulders. Alison paused, turned back and shot me a glare that would have melted glass. "I'll see you later, Syd."

She and her cronies flounced off. I watched the cheerleaders leave, their faces clearly showing their disappointment, knowing they hoped to see a show. I clenched my teeth and for the first time didn't care about being popular or fitting in. The demon in me would have happily given them the show they looked for, but not to their benefit, oh no.

I shook my head, realizing how little I cared anymore. This wasn't working, so time for a new game plan. To my disbelief, Brad Peters still stood there watching me.

"Show's over," I snapped. "Or hadn't you noticed?"

Brad's eyes widened. He looked genuinely hurt. "Syd, I'm sorry, I—"

The expression on my face shut him up.

"Your girlfriend is waiting," I snapped.

I stomped off, leaving him gaping after me. I felt like I was in control at last. I was done being a target, for my mother, for the Alison Morgan's of the world. They wanted a battle? They'd get one, Sydlynn Hayle style.

Damn. I was late for class.

***

# Chapter Six

I guess I must have made it obvious I wasn't in the mood for bullying. Despite Alison's parting remark, a typical fair warning of nastiness to come, I made it through the day in peace and quiet. In fact, unlike most days when I normally had to force my way through the crowd in the cafeteria to get a milk or the push of kids to reach my locker, the way seemed to part before me in a rippling wave of retreating humanity. I'm not sure if they didn't want to have any contact with me in case I turned contagious and would bring Alison's wrath down on them too, or if I radiated 'don't mess with me.'

Probably a little bit of both.

I finally toned back my new badass aura when two freshmen ran away from me with tears in their eyes. Talk about going from one extreme to another. I had to be oozing magic to raise a response like that. Time to pull the reins back and get myself under control. But if the past couple of days taught me anything, I knew I wasn't getting anywhere doing the same thing over and over again. Time for a new plan, even if it meant flushing any chance I ever had to belong.

I headed home that afternoon feeling better about myself than I had in a long time, even looking kind of forward to talking to Mom, much to my own amazement. I couldn't believe I was even considering having a frank discussion with my mother. She wasn't going to get it anyway. We would devolve into another huge fight where she would cry and I would end up disappearing behind my slamming bedroom door.

Still, with new optimism blooming and hoping to survive the next ten minutes, I walked into the kitchen to the smell of homemade chocolate chip cookies.

Allow me to explain. My mother, Miriam Hayle, powerful witch and coven leader, could not bake. In fact, as a rule and a whole, we tried to stop her at the first sign of blossoming domesticity. Her brief and often disastrous forays into all things homey were notorious for ending in tragedy, shed blood and a bucket of tears.

Not always hers.

So these perfect lumps of divine smelling sugary sweetness could not possibly have come from the hands of my mother.

I checked around for a telltale paper bag or plastic container explaining the appearance of fresh baked anything in my house. I stood over the cooling rack when Mom came in the kitchen and caught me drooling. She looked adorable in her clean, crisp black apron with 'Witch in the Kitch' written across it in florescent green.

We watched each other, silent, uncomfortable. It was pretty clear she was hiding something from me and didn't know how to share. Decision made, she smiled.

"Sydlynn, honey, I'm glad you're home." Mom took a step forward into the kitchen, still smiling.

I smiled tentatively back. Maybe this would be easier than I thought.

"Hi, Mom," I said.

Mom glanced down at the tray of cooling cookies and laughed.

"Surprised?" She said.

I nodded.

She went to the cupboard and took out a plate. A spatula emerged from the drawer below it. She started serving cookies onto the waiting dish.

"I wasn't sure at first," she said, "but they seemed to turn out okay in the end." She held up the plate to me, a hopeful, wistful expression on her face. "Cookie?"

That cookie could have tasted like crap and it wouldn't have mattered. I loved my mother so much right then I would have eaten it wriggling or still on fire if I had to. She tried for me. I took a cookie and sniffed in its warm goodness before taking a bite. I almost dropped it, eyes going wide.

Mom looked distressed. "Tell me I didn't just poison you!" She reached for the cookie.

I held it away and laughed, amazed. "Mom!" I said. "It's delicious!"

She laughed herself, a little shaky, and tried one too. "So it is," she said. "Well what do you know?"

We happily munched our cookies, smiling at each other, as if the sugar we shared melted the rift between us.

"Thanks, Mom," I said, swallowing the last bite. "That was awesome."

"You're welcome," she blushed and I knew how hard she was trying. It made me want to try harder too. Maybe there was hope for us after all.

"Another?" She offered the plate. I couldn't say no.

"Seriously, Mom, I'm proud of you," I said as I studied the cookie for the best place to take the first bite.

"Finally," she said.

"Yeah, well, practice makes perfect, right?" I filled my mouth and grinned at her.

"You have no idea," she giggled. I don't think I ever heard my mother giggle.

"What do you mean?" I went for a glass and to the fridge for milk as she helped herself to another.

"These cookies came with a pretty big price tag," she said.

I set the milk on the counter beside her to share.

"Don't tell me you bought them," I crossed my arms over my chest, still grinning.

"No, Syd, I made these cookies with my own two hands," she assured me.

"No magic?" I asked.

"No magic," she said.

"So where's the price tag?" I took a long drink and handed her the glass. She polished off her cookie and the rest of the milk, eyes twinkling over the rim as she finished it in a couple of gulps. She licked off her mustache and winked at me.

"The sweat of my brow," she said.

I went to the closet where we kept the trash with the empty milk carton. "Uh-huh. Erica helped this time?"

Her eyes widened as I opened the door. She half reached for me before the sparkle returned.

"What?" I asked, turning to dump the carton.

As soon as I did, I started to laugh.

The large silver can overflowed with horribly disfigured and charred cookies, empty bags of sugar, flour and cartons of eggs and milk. From the appearance of the trash, she made cookies all day and went through hell and back to get it right.

Now I really loved my mother. I turned back to her and grabbed her in the biggest hug, wondering why I had ever been mad at her. My mom, my amazing mom, tortured herself in the kitchen for me so I could feel like a normal kid.

"Thanks, Mom," I whispered into her hair.

I felt her tense before she hugged me back, whole body softening, her power wrapping around me like a warm blanket. "It was worth it for this," she said.

For the first time since I could remember, I felt a complete connection to my mother, her unconditional love and acceptance without judgment or expectation.

It was amazing, but wasn't meant to last. In fact, it ended shortly after the doorbell rang.

Mom's face fell. That was when I knew without a doubt, despite the fact she tried, my mother couldn't do anything without an ulterior motive. I closed off and from the guarded look in her eyes, she knew it.

"Can you get the door, please, dear?" She tried to keep the cheer in her voice. "I'll get a plate of cookies for our guests."

I was wrong. The cookies, the effort she made, none of it was really for me at all. She kicked her own butt in the kitchen to impress whoever stood behind door number one. That warm and fuzzy feeling went the way of her discarded attempts, along with my happiness.

I didn't bother asking any questions. Whoever waited at the door was going to make me unhappy one way or another or she wouldn't have been trying so hard.

I left the kitchen with my distrust rising past my fury even though I had no idea what was going on. Which meant when I answered the door I was already antagonistic and definitely not in the mood for anything to do with Mom's betrayal or her grand plans for me and my future.

I pulled the door open a little harder than necessary and scowled at the three people standing on the front step. An immediate wave of unease hit me, scrubbing away my anger and leaving me cold. What appeared to be middle-aged mother, father and teenaged son screamed magic at me. For a moment, I flinched from the usual flood of nausea. The power came and went so fast I wondered if maybe I imagined it.

I must have been silent, staring for an unusual amount of time, because the woman's smile began to fade as she held out her hand to me.

"You must be Sydlynn." She forced her smile back to its original width, stretching her tacky lipstick so much it showed where it bled into the lines around her mouth.

"So I've been told," I muttered.

The woman glanced at the older man beside her and tittered a laugh so fake it made my cheeks ache. She was short, shorter than me, with badly dyed brownish- blonde hair and faded blue eyes made up with too much eyeliner. Her dress tightly hugged her plump figure, excess flesh bunching over her bra. The man beside her stood only slightly taller, dressed in a tweed suit complete with leather arm patches. He even had a pipe in his breast pocket. Imagine.

"Clever," he said to the woman beside him. "I like that." He beamed at me in a male chauvinist kind of way that made me want to slam the door in their faces and tell Mom it had simply been a mysterious walk-by ringing.

"Thanks," I said instead. "Can I help you with something?"

The woman's expression tightened enough a teenager would notice but a grownup would miss. She did not like me. I can say the feeling was instantaneously mutual.

"We're the Moromonds, dear," she said, as if that explained everything.

"And?" I prompted.

Mom's firm grip on the door saved me from the woman's curt reply. She pulled it from my hand and stepped up beside me in the now fully opened entry.

"Batsheva! Dominic! So lovely you came," Mom reached out for the woman and grasped her hand. Batsheva Moromond plastered her fake smile back on and air kissed my mother on both cheeks.

"Miriam, dear, it's been too long," she said.

Dominic took Mom's hand and kissed it, lingering just a little too long, his eyes never leaving hers. Mom actually blushed.

"Yes, Miriam," Dominic said. "Beautiful as ever."

Mom pulled her hand free and I could tell she struggled for a way to change the subject. It was so weird to see my all-powerful mother floored by a man hitting on her in front of his wife. Go figure.

She finally settled on the teenager standing in their shadow.

"This can't be Quaid," she said to Batsheva, holding out a hand to him. As he stepped forward to greet her, I took my first good look.

Wow. His parents may have been creepy, but he was hot. In fact, Quaid was everything they weren't. Tall, lean in his punk band t-shirt, black hair shaggy with curls. He offered my mother his large, slim hand, the other shoved in the back pocket of his black jeans. I was never into bad boys. Whether I chose to finally stop hiding who I really was or because he was just that attractive, I found myself wondering, 'Brad who?'

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hayle," Quaid offered in his deep, smooth voice. I imagined he was a singer with pipes like that. His eyes flickered to me, deep brown to almost black with a little curiosity behind them. I tried to play cool but think I came off as weird and goofy. So what else is new?

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he answered.

"Splendid!" Dominic interrupted. Heat flushed my cheeks. Crap.

I quickly glanced away and caught Mom watching me out of the corner of my eye. I ignored her and backed out of the way as she welcomed them inside.

"Syd, why don't you join us?" My mom motioned me toward the living room we never used. From the pleading in her eyes, she expected a fight. No way, not this time. If these people were important enough to warrant Mom's descent into domestic humiliation, I needed to know why. Of course, it didn't hurt I would also have the chance to spend a little more time imprinting Quaid Moromond into my memory for later.

I was the last to leave the entry. For some reason, I felt compelled to look back outside as I pushed the door closed. A huge black dog sat at the end of the driveway, watching me. I caught the door and watched right back. We faced off, stare to stare. It felt like the showdown went on forever. Mom's voice calling me from inside the house finally broke my eye contact. I turned to answer her, looked back.

The dog was gone. Stupid mutt.

I shook myself a little and closed the door.

They had already taken a civilized seat around the coffee table. I joined my mother on the sofa as Mom proudly handed out cookies. Quaid passed and sat back. He watched me the entire time, my plan all along, although I never intended to be so open about it. I refused to back down. He gave me a tight, sideways grin and glanced away.

It took me a breathless moment to accept I won the battle. I never won. Wicked. I grinned on the inside while I finally decided to pay attention to the conversation. "It's the sweetest little high school," Batsheva was saying. "We just know our Quaidy will love it there, won't you, honey."

I highly doubted 'Quaidy' would do anything of the sort.

"Of course, Mother," he said. Either he was whipped or knew how to pick his battles.

"Thank you so much for the invitation," Batsheva went on. "Since our coven disbanded, we've been hoping to have a chance to come back to the family."

"I'm happy you chose to come home," Mom sounded genuine, like she really cared. "I've missed you all these years." Surprising how she was being so nice. It seemed like they had a history. Interesting. And what was this home business?

"Such a wonderful family," Dominic answered. "When Batsheva told me you wanted her to return to the fold, I couldn't wait to see if we would fit in here."

It started to sound like a done deal. What did Mom need me for? Maybe to run interference? The thought of Mr. Slimy looking at my mom that way in front of my father made my skin crawl. On the other hand, it would be interesting to see if Dad thought as little of it as I did. I doubted old Dominic was strong enough to face off with a demon.

"Of course I immediately remembered your offer to bind our families together," Batsheva went on. "We're thrilled, positively thrilled, at the prospect. Aren't we?" She looked back and forth between the two males, getting a nod and a wink from Dominic. Quaid's eyes flickered to mine and his sideways grin came back. I was beginning get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Mom did not to look at me. Why did she seem so nervous? I've never seen my mother's hands shake.

"Of course," she said. "But we'll discuss that at another time."

"I don't see why we should put it off," Batsheva said. "Especially since the kids are both here." She smiled her oily smile at me. "Such a lovely little thing. Don't you think so, Quaid?"

I frowned as Quaid's grin widened but came nowhere near his eyes. In fact, if I had to guess, he was as pissed as I was confused. My walls slammed up so fast it left me breathless. I turned to my mother who bit her bottom lip.

"Mom?" I said softly, slowly. "What's going on?"

Batsheva and Dominic exchanged a glance before turning to the very uncomfortable Mom.

Instead of talking to me she addressed their unspoken question.

"I hadn't said anything to Sydlynn, yet." Mom said. "Your arrival was so sudden... I take it you talked to Quaid?"

His eyes hadn't left mine, although they softened a little.

That feeling in my stomach solidified into a hard ball of something I couldn't yet identify. My shoulders tightened.

"Mom?"

She finally looked at me.

"It was something your father and I thought might help all of us, dear." Wary but resigned. Not a good sign. I could feel her deep in the regret of being unable to turn away from a massive disaster she knew was of her own making. "We were waiting for the right time to tell you."

"Tell me what?" I kept my voice as flat as possible, not wanting to hate her again but feeling it rising within me, an unstoppable tide. I knew, knew, she did something she was afraid I would never forgive her for. And I was pretty sure she was right.

Quaid broke the news.

"You and me, Syd," he said. "For the good of the coven. We'll make really powerful babies, don't you think?"

I had absolutely nothing to say.

***

# Chapter Seven

"Syd. Open the door."

Mom's voice sounded tired, so tired, but I didn't care.

I remained where I was, buried under the covers, door firmly locked.

"Go away!" I yelled at her.

"Syd, honey, please," she begged. "Let me explain..."

I sat up and threw the hideous pink silk pillow she forced into my life at the door as hard as I could. It made a less than satisfying thunk.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I searched around for bigger and more breakable stuff to throw.

"Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle, you open this door at once!" Mom's voice went up an octave and about a decibel in volume.

"NO!" I scrambled from the bed and stood right in front of the door, so close I could see the veins in the wood and screamed at her as loud as I could. "NEVER! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WEREN'T MY MOTHER!"

The tears started, mine and probably hers, but I sobbed too hard to care about her at all. I threw myself back onto the bed and poured my heart out onto my pillow. How could she? How could Dad? Wasn't it bad enough they made me this way? Did they have to try to sell my body and soul too? I sobbed harder, heart absolutely broken. My mother, my own mother tried to further her own power by making me marry for magic. I was sixteen for crying out loud. What were they thinking?

I was so out of there, she had no idea.

I lurched to my feet and started cramming clothes into two backpacks before I even knew I decided to leave. It floored me, took me totally by surprise, so much so I collapsed on the carpet, tears forgotten. Was I really willing to go to that extreme? To run away from my family and never come back? To be honest, until now the thought never really crossed my mind. Where would I go? I had nowhere to go. No money, no means of making any, at least that I even considered engaging in. What was I thinking?

I kicked the closest bag hard and climbed back onto my bed, miserable and unable to hold the tears back any longer. These were silent ones, though, in some ways better than the sobbing and in some ways worse.

I felt the soft touch of Sassy's particular brand of magic and, despite the rules of its use, the lock on my door eased open. I heard the subtle creak of the old hinges and the pad of little cat feet. Sass jumped up beside me rubbing his soft body against my face, rough tongue licking at the tears that simply would not stop. I took him in my arms and hugged him and for once he didn't fight me. He lay there, purring, surrounding me with his touch.

"Oh Sass," I cried, "how could she?"

"I honestly have no idea," he answered, voice very quiet. "In all my years, I've never... I'm with you on this one, Syd. All the way. It was inexcusable. You are a Hayle witch, not some common magicker to be bought and sold for power."

I snuffled. The tip of his tail started to twitch. I knew he wasn't mad at me.

"What am I going to do?" I whispered.

"I don't suggest your first course of action," he said, eyes drifting to the two messy backpacks before flickering back to me. I shook my head.

"Already gave up on that one, Sass. Stupid idea."

"We agree again, it's a miracle." He winked his slow cat wink at me. I smiled through my easing tears. Nice to have an ally, even if he was a twenty-pound fur ball.

"I can't stand it," I said. "How can I possibly face the family? And don't try to tell me they don't know. They must by now."

Sass licked my cheek. "As much as I disagree with her methods, Miriam was only trying to find a way to link you to the rest of us. There are things happening outside your knowledge. Your mother is doing her best to protect the coven."

I hated Sass when he was cryptic. "From what?"

He shifted his sleek cat shoulders, thick fur rippling. "Perhaps you should ask your mother."

Not very damned likely.

Sassafras fixed his golden eyes on me, pupils narrowing. "She's right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"Quaid Moromond is a very powerful witch from a long line of powerful witches. He will make a good addition."

"Sass!" I protested.

"As a member," he reassured me. "A duly tested and accepted member."

"I want them to go away," I whispered, feeling very small and very young.

"I wish I could tell you that's going to happen," Sass answered. "But I think you're out of luck there, Syd."

"Why?" I challenged him. "There are more than enough covens out there for them to hitch themselves to."

"Batsheva was a member once," he told me. "She and your mother were best friends. Miriam was devastated when Batsheva married outside the family. So when their coven recently broke up, leaving them free to apply to other groups, Miriam wanted her back in the fold." Clearly he disagreed with my mother's decision.

"Do you think she really meant it?" I wanted some glimmer, some hope my mother had my best interest at heart. Sass could only shrug.

"Regardless, she's regretting bringing it up, now."

"She is?" I wiped at some tears with the corner of my quilt. "Are you sure?"

Sass rested his chin on his paws.

"Definitely. You didn't see the look on her face, Syd. She's feeling terrible. To be honest, I think maybe this was an old agreement that came back to bite her in the ass."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I felt a little better, tears drying up. At least she suffered too.

"Batsheva left when your mother took over as leader," he said. "I always thought Miriam tried too hard with that woman," Sassy was never one to hide his opinions. "But it was never enough. So, Batsheva joined Dominic's coven in the Midwest. We haven't seen her since." Obviously he thought the Moromonds should go back to where they came from.

"So what's all this stuff about me marrying their son?" I would not say his name.

Sass sniffed. "I know your mother has tried out of the goodness of her heart to stay in contact. I think Batsheva must have decided when you and Quaid were babies that you would be a perfect match for each other someday. Your mother must have agreed to mend fences. I'm not even sure Miriam remembered it until Batsheva brought it up."

I had a suspicion Sass was totally making this up just so I'd feel better. I knew it but kept quiet. Who knew for sure? Maybe Mom didn't remember before today, but the ringing of the doorbell definitely brought it all back. I rolled over and closed my eyes, taking in some deep breaths to calm myself. Sass climbed onto my chest and curled up. I started petting him as his rumbling purr echoed through my body.

A soft little hand slipped into mine. Before I even knew she was there, Meira climbed up to lie beside me, her head on my shoulder. I could tell she had been crying, her sweet face scrunched up with anger.

"I hate her," she hissed.

I slipped my free arm under her shoulders and hugged her. Weird how it took my impending marriage for Meira to forget she was mad at me.

"No, Meira," I said. "It's okay. No matter what, I'm doing what I want to do."

She sobbed once into my shirt. "I don't want you to go away!" She wailed.

"Me either," I said. "And I don't think it's going to come to that."

She sat up and pointed accusingly at the backpacks. I was really going to have to do something about those before anyone else saw them.

"I'm not leaving, I promise," I told her.

"Ever?" She snuffled.

"Meems," I did my best big sister.

She played with my belt.

"If you go," she whispered, "take me with you."

"You love the coven," I said.

"I love you more," she blinked her huge demon eyes at me. "Don't leave me here alone, Syd."

I pulled her down beside me and hugged her again. I happened to glance over at Sass who studied me with his lidded cat eyes. I glared back as I spoke to Meira.

"No one is going anywhere, except, hopefully the Moromonds."

No luck there.

A knock on the door and Erica stepped into my room. She tried a smile but there was too much sympathy in her face. Less smile, more crooked grimace.

"Meeting," she said. "Can you join us downstairs, please?"

I sat up. Sass hopped off as Meira and I stood. Erica opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something. Her eyes fell on the stuffed bags and she faltered.

"It's not what you think." I was getting tired of saying that. And of the hurt looks from the people I cared about when they assumed the worst.

"I'm sure it's not." Erica stepped inside and closed the door. "Syd, you know your mother loves you and would never do anything to hurt you."

Why did I grow up in a family where it was impossible to insist anyone mind their own business? "Yes, Erica," I said.

She kissed me softly on the cheek, running her thumb over where her lips touched. Great. Lipstick. "We all love you." She glanced at the bags again. "And would miss you if you left us."

That was Erica, the queen of subtle. Her eyes shone with sincerity though and I knew she meant it. As much as she liked to mother me, I guess I'd miss it if she decided to stop.

I hugged her on impulse. "Thanks," I said. "Mom Two."

She giggled and pulled away. "Brat. Downstairs. And please don't let your mother see those."

She left without another word.

I squared my shoulders. I refused to let this rule me. No one could force me to do anything. If it came down to it, I knew some people in a few other covens, so I had alternatives. The tears dried up. The embarrassment lingered, but I'd get over it. Who cared what they thought, anyway? Two more years. Two more. I could do it.

I dodged into the bathroom for a second to check my face. Just as I thought, disaster. The red blotchiness I lived with after every bout of crying rose to the occasion. In fact, joy of joys, it spread to my neck and upper chest as well.

I dabbed at some mascara stains and tried to forget about it.

Meira still waited for me. It surprised me Sass did too. When he followed us to the top of the stairs, I had to ask.

"Joining us?" My witchy senses vibrated. Sass never intruded on meetings.

"Curious," he answered cryptically. He swayed his way down the stairs ahead of us and whisked around the corner, tail twitching. Meira's hand found mine. We went together.

I tried to avoid the others making their way from the kitchen to the basement. My face felt flushed. I knew they could see the humiliation rising from me in waves. It took all the courage I had to go down the stairs. The weight of their judgments pushed against me. I was in no mood to talk to anyone. I simply took my place in the circle and waited.

Mom stood silently as I slipped in beside her. Her fingers reached out and slid over the back of my hand. I turned my head a little, catching her gaze. The naked grief there erased the last of my anger. Of course my mother hadn't tried to sell me off. What the hell was wrong with me? I was overreacting to everything lately. Geez, Syd, get a grip.

I held her fingers in mine, and some of the pain eased. I squeezed her fingers.

"You owe me a batch of cookies," I whispered.

Her eyes widened before she leaned and kissed my cheek.

"I owe you a lot more than that," she said.

Everyone gathered around, waiting on us. I shrugged in answer and smiled at her. I spotted the Moromonds on the other side of the altar. My stomach flipped over. I knew without a doubt what that meant.

Mom stepped forward to confirm it.

"My friends," she said, "my family, I am thrilled to reunite us with Batsheva Andreas, now Moromond, who has at last come home to the coven. We have reviewed the submission of Dominic Moromond and, by her honor, their son, Quaid."

The three stepped forward. I tried not to watch, doing everything I could to avoid the smirk I knew was plastered on Quaid's face. Maybe he wasn't really so hot after all.

"It is with the greatest pleasure I offer Batsheva her rightful place. I am also happy to grant her husband and son entry," Mom continued, "with my sponsorship and that of the Hayle family."

Minus one. I thought it but wanted to say it. A fluffy tail slapped my leg. Sass glared at the newcomers, tail thrashing. His eyes met mine, glowing with demon fire. I glanced over at them before turning back to him but he already saw enough, I guess. I barely caught the final flick of his tail as he disappeared up the basement stairs.

Make that minus two.

Batsheva beamed at the crowd, meanwhile, stepping forward. Guess who wore the pants? Nice to figure that out early.

"We are so happy to be here," she gushed. "The Hayles are family and old friends. I have known many of you since I was a child. We feel like we are being welcomed home."

If she poured it on any thicker, no one would be able to keep dinner down.

Guess that was just me. There were murmurs of welcome.

Several people stepped forward to speak to the Moromonds. Mom took her place beside me again and fixed a smile on her face as the coven greeted their newest members.

"I don't really have to marry him, do I?" I whispered to her.

Mom's lips twitched. She shook her head ever so slightly. "Honey, can you ever forgive me? Honestly, it was so long ago... I wasn't even sure Batsheva remembered, and you were a baby then."

"Yeah, I got that from Sassy," I told her, keeping a smile on like her. "Do they really have to join?"

"Yes, Syd, they do."

"Just as long as lover boy knows to keep his hands to himself," I told her.

She choked on a laugh. "I don't think you have to worry about that," she answered. "Somehow I think he was less enthusiastic about the whole thing than you were."

"Like that's possible," I answered. A frown followed. Hey, wait a second. He didn't want to marry me? Jerk. "Thanks a lot. Not good enough for him or something?"

Mom shot me a look of humored exasperation.

"Well aren't you the end all," she said, eyes sparkling.

"What?" I answered, trying not to be offended.

"Never mind," she said. "I love you, Syd."

I turned back to the action and caught Quaid watching me again. This time, I smirked at him.

Funny, he wasn't smiling anymore.

***

# Chapter Eight

I waited until everyone left to retreat back to my room. It was almost dark by then. I undressed, digging out my favorite grubby pajamas, dropping my clothes on the floor out of the habit of pissing off my mom. I knew she would glance in on me. I heard the long sigh of suffering she would heave at the unruly pile of clothes. I flipped open a textbook, trying to study and sighed myself. Damn, she was good. Even in my imagination, she could make me restless with guilt. I threw aside the book and glared at the pink chandelier. I slouched out of bed, put the clothes away, and went back to studying, feeling decidedly huffy.

It didn't take me long to concede defeat. I sucked at chemistry. I was about to toss the book across the room when I felt a surge of power so strong it shook the house to the foundation.

I leapt to my feet, out my door before I knew I moved. I took the stairs three at a time, practically flying. I made it to the basement doorway ahead of the typically timely Sassafras. He ran at my heels as I pounded down the steps and hit the floor, freezing at the bottom.

My mom sat on her backside on the edge of the pentagram, the remains of her casting strewn about her. Her clothes smoked from the dispersed magic. The shocked look on her face would have been funny under different circumstances.

Sprawled across from her, equally as startled, lay two vampires. Which would have been an event in itself if these particular vampires didn't live in our basement.

My Uncle Frank, forever preserved at boyishly handsome, with his sense of humor intact, flashed my mother a grin, showing fang.

"Morning, Miriam," he said.

Mom shook her head as if to clear it, the last of the smoke dissipating.

"Frank!" She said. "Are you all right?"

Uncle Frank patted his hands over his blond hair, plain white t-shirt and torn, faded jeans.

"Looks that way," he said. "Sunny?"

Uncle Frank turned to the beautiful blonde vampire beside him. She smiled at Mom and me, her own delicate canines carefully hidden behind plump lips. Sunny always tried to pass for living and breathing.

"Wonderful," she said in her vibrant voice. I didn't have the heart to tell her no matter how hard she tried her voice would peg her as undead every time. Nobody sounded that good unless they had help.

And, yes, Sunny was her real name. Most unfortunate for a vampire, but she thought it was funny.

I crossed the pentagram, feeling a thrill of residual power as I did. Mom was doing magic this close to sundown? I offered her my hand, which she took with a look of gratitude.

"What happened?" I asked. I couldn't help but notice the doors of Frank and Sunny's elaborate cupboards gaped wide open. They must have woken up, their auras colliding with Mom's, causing the explosion.

Uncle Frank and Sunny stood without appearing to move. It always freaked me out, no matter how many times I saw it.

"Miriam lost track of the time, I guess," Frank winked at his sister. He appeared to be about twenty-one, his light blue eyes dancing with mischief, despite being closer to forty.

"I'm so sorry," Mom said. "I... I thought I had time..." She looked at Sass who rubbed against her legs, his big head butting her knees in sympathy.

"It's autumn," Sunny dismissed it. "Sunset comes earlier now."

"It was an accident, Miriam," Frank said. "No worries."

My mother shook her head.

"Inexcusable," she muttered. "I don't know where my head was. We could all have been badly hurt."

She wasn't kidding. Different magic sources did not mix. The vampires didn't necessarily do magic, they were magic, animated by it. The reaction was strongest when they woke. Human power butting against the newly risen undead turned into an explosive combination, which was why Mom had to be so careful and made sure we were, too. Had things been a little further along with her spell, all that would be left of our house, and us for that matter, would be nothing more than a gaping hole.

Totally not like my mother.

"We weren't," Frank rolled his eyes. "I know you're careful. Now get over here so I can suck your blood."

He was kidding, of course. Neither of them drank human blood from the source. Still, the thought always made me queasy.

Mom crossed out of the pentagram to hug her brother.

"Are you all right?" He asked her almost too quietly for me to hear.

"I'm feeling a little weak," she admitted, pressing one trembling hand to her forehead. "I think I'll go upstairs and lie down."

"Feel free to use my cupboard," Frank winked at her.

My mother laughed. "You will never get me in that thing, Jonathan Francis Hayle."

I snickered at his full name. He made a face at me.

"Go rest," he shooed her off.

"Sydlynn," Mom turned to me, "thank you for being here."

"You almost blew up the house," I said, wincing inside. "I'm glad you're okay," I added.

She smiled a little before leaving us.

Sassafras stalked to my side and smacked my leg with one heavy paw.

"That was productive," he snarled. "Honestly, Frank, the girl is a walking disaster. Deal with it."

With a flick of his tail, the fat silver Persian ran after my mother.

I turned to Uncle Frank, expecting some kind of sarcastic comment, only to be met by a worried expression.

"Did something happen?" Uncle Frank asked.

"Like Mom trying to marry me off to some witch without telling me then inviting them to join the coven?" I told him. "You could say something happened."

Frank exchanged a glance with Sunny.

"Tell me everything," he said.

I went to them on their side of the basement and filled them in. Despite Uncle Frank's usual flair for amusing comments, he was silent, which made me nervous.

"I don't like it," Frank told me. "I wish Batsheva hadn't been invited to rejoin. Miriam always thought they were so close, best friends. But we could all see she was only using your mom for her position and influence."

"You wouldn't know it by the way Batsheva tells it," I said. "Chum city."

"You know your mother would never make you marry this boy," Sunny said, her flawless face concerned, clear blue eyes earnest. I loved Sunny. She was the nicest dead person I knew, aside from Uncle Frank.

"I know," I told her. "Anyway, you guys missed the fireworks, lucky you."

"Not exactly," Frank said, brushing at some imaginary dirt on his shirt. "After all, your mother almost blew up the house, remember?"

I made a face and laughed.

"Honestly, Syd," Frank said. "Your Mom told me about the other night."

"Naturally." I didn't feel like having that particular conversation, not even with my understanding uncle.

"I can see you don't want to talk about it," he said. "But you need to get your stuff figured out, kiddo."

"And why is that?" I challenged him.

"Because," he said, "if you really intend to leave this life forever, it's probably a good idea to figure out why you want to leave in the first place so you have a good argument for them."

"I just do!" I cried. "Isn't that enough?"

Uncle Frank laughed and hugged me. He smelled of wood polish and fabric softener. I felt Sunny's arms slip around me from behind, adding her comfort and the scent of roses. As much as I loved them both, I was eager to let go. The silk of Sunny's blouse did nothing to shield me from her and Uncle Frank's t-shirt wasn't much better. Trouble was, neither of them had eaten anything. Their cold bodies made me shiver.

"Just because isn't good enough," Uncle Frank said. "Trust me. From one rebel to another."

I knew he attracted a lot of trouble with the family when he came home a vampire with an undead girlfriend in tow. And I knew he was right.

"I don't know why," I admitted in a whisper to his white t-shirt.

"Then figure it out," he answered, "or make something up. Because otherwise, they'll never let you go."

Uncle Frank and his brutal honesty. I couldn't be mad at him for it.

"I'll see what I can do," I said. "Now if you two don't mind, it's a little chilly being the center of a vampire sandwich."

Sunny laughed in my ear and let me go. Uncle Frank took a little longer.

"I'm here for you, anytime," he whispered.

"I know," I whispered back. "Thanks."

Uncle Frank stretched. "I love a happy ending," he winked at me. He looked over at Sunny and grinned. "Hungry?"

"Starving," she said back.

Totally creepy.

Sunny kissed my cheek in passing as they spun into mist and disappeared.

I was wrong. That was totally creepy.

***

# Chapter Nine

I lay in bed for a long time, struggling with my thoughts, shying away from taking the real steps I needed to figure out what my problem was. For some reason I probably should have been aware of, I didn't want to know. I wanted out! Why couldn't that be enough?

As I sprawled there torturing myself, I heard my door creak and the soft pad of little feet. I watched Meira as she picked her way on tiptoe across my floor and to the end of my bed. She twisted a handful of quilt in her tiny fingers and peered up at me through her silky black bangs, eyes wide and almost completely black in the darkness.

"Are you awake?" She whispered.

"Nope," I answered. "Come back later."

Meira giggled. She had the cutest giggle, clean and fresh and genuine. She always made me feel way younger than I was.

I giggled back.

Meira made her way further up the bed, twirling her slender body, her pure white nightgown flaring out at her ankles as she half-danced, half-tiptoed to me. She leaned over the bed and touched my forehead with one little finger, face solemn, eyes glowing in the light from the street outside.

"You are blessed," she whispered.

I choked on a snort and started writhing on the bed in mock agony.

"No, I can't take it! Please, don't make me be like you!"

She crossed her little arms over her chest and smirked at me.

"I'm not that good," she said.

I grabbed her and dragged her onto the bed. She squealed, covering her mouth with both hands, tears brimming with mirth. I tickled her. She shook her head, lips clenched together, snorting laughter escaping.

"Nasty little ruggers," I continued the torture, "say it!"

"No!" She tried to whisper. It came out a little louder than she intended. We both laughed, glancing at the partially open door.

"Say it!" I demanded in a whisper when no one came to shush us. "Say uncle!"

Meira giggled silently, her red-tinted face even more crimson from the effort of holding it in. She squiggled and squirmed underneath me, trying to catch her breath.

"Never," she hissed.

I sat up and whacked her with my pillow. She squealed for real this time. She grabbed one of the decorative throw pillows Mom insisted accompany the stupid chandelier.

"Cheater!" She shrieked, smacking me with the satin monstrosity.

I popped her a good one, sending her tumbling across the bed.

"Brat!" I retorted.

Meira lunged with her pillow, but missed and ended up on the floor. We both froze at the heavy thump. I heard quick steps come to the bottom of the stairs.

"You girls better be in bed," Mom called up to us.

We giggled.

"If I have to come up there..." The threat was an empty one. She hadn't come up to stop us in years.

Still, we held silent, as much a part of the game as the rest of it. Finally, Mom's footsteps retreated back to the kitchen. Meira gazed up at me from the floor and laughed.

I scooped her up and planted her on the bed beside me. She stretched out facing me. I flipped the covers over us. She snuggled into my neck.

"That was fun," she said.

"So I can blame you if Mom decides to come check on us?"

Meira batted her lashes, Miss Innocence. "She'd never believe it was my fault."

I didn't mean to but with everything that happened in the last few hours, I took her words personally.

"Right. Of course. It's always me screwing up. I forgot."

I rolled over onto my back, focused fury settling on the stupid pink chandelier. I jumped up, stood on the bed and grabbed onto it. I pulled, but nothing happened. Meira made a noise, something sad and afraid, but I ignored her completely. Mad, beyond frustrated, I gave it a good yank. The whole thing let go. I hunched on the bed covered in pink crystals, stars, wires and a large chunk of ceiling. I'm surprised my mom didn't come running, but I guess it wasn't as noisy as it looked. Dust hovered everywhere. Meira stared at me, tears pouring over her cheeks.

"Syd," she cried. "I'm sorry! Don't be mad anymore."

She covered her little face in her hands and sobbed. The giant heel I turned into reached out and grabbed her. I pulled her into my lap amid the mess I made and hugged her hard.

"It's okay, Meems, it's okay," I rocked her and stroked her hair until she fell quiet. She pushed tears from her cheeks. The fear I saw in her face made me cringe, even though I knew she was less afraid of me and more afraid for me.

"Why don't you love us anymore, Syd?" Meira went limp against me, her hurt a physical thing that made me want to take everything back.

"It's not that," I told her, stroking her hair back from her cute little horns. "Of course I still love you. What's not to love, huh?"

She slid her hair over her horns to hide them. "That's not what you said before," she whispered.

I ran back over the conversation in the basement and winced. Oops.

"Meems..."

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. "You hate us."

"No I don't."

"You think we're monsters."

Oh crap. "Meira, look at me." I forced her face up and stared her in those huge, demon eyes. "I don't hate you, okay? Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. And I don't think you're a monster."

"I have horns," she whispered. I flinched. How much damage had I done to my little sister? How had she gotten into the middle of my battles with our mother? For the first time I was painfully aware Meira probably suffered way more than Mom and I. She was going to carry our garbage with her for the rest of her life if I didn't do something about it right then and there.

I scooted her further into my lap, pushing the remains of the ruined pink horror away. I held her tight and opened up my power to her, only a bit, as I spoke, happy and surprised when my stomach stayed quiet.

"You are the most wonderful, sweet and perfect kid ever," I said. "I'm sorry you had to hear me lose my temper with Mom and Dad. Sometimes when I get mad I say stuff that isn't quite the way I mean it."

"You didn't mean it?" She snuffled.

"Not that way," I said. "I didn't mean monster as in demon. I meant monster as in me turning into a bad person because I'm being forced into something I don't want, that I never wanted." Part of me whispered a denial but I shoved it aside to deal with later. "It has nothing to do with you or Mom or Dad. Just me. Okay?"

"How come, Syd?" Meira asked.

"I wish I knew," I said. "I don't want to be a witch. Is that really a bad thing?"

She thought about it for a second. "I guess not."

"But?" I poked her. She managed a little giggle before getting serious again.

"Well, it's just... you are a witch, Syd. How can you not want to be what you are? And how can you stop being it, either?"

Meira's sharp perception scared me sometimes. I let her go and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, closing off with some relief.

"That's my problem to figure out, Meems, not yours. But," I stroked her hair back from her horns, "I want you to remember no matter what happens, no matter where I go or what I'm doing or who I become, I love you and I always will. Okay?"

Meira threw her arms around my neck, kissing me on the cheek.

"I love you too, Syd," she said.

She sat back and made a face. She fished around under her and pulled out a pink crystal. We both laughed.

"Guess I have some explaining to do in the morning," I squinted up at the ceiling. "I could always blame it on Sass."

Meira winked and waggled her fingers. I tried not to squirm as I felt her power gather like a web around her, tickling me. She was very careful, most of the magic shielded, as she sent out the force in delicate fingers, reassembled the chandelier before our very eyes. I watched as sparkling shards and glittering stars repaired themselves, wires twisting back into shape. The whole thing, now reattached to the chunk of plaster, rose toward the ceiling, settling into place. The seam faded and finally disappeared altogether. I knew if I turned on the light, it would be as though the whole thing never happened, right down to the last speck of dust.

Better her do it than me. My luck I'd slip or screw up and the whole ceiling would come down and the roof with it.

"Thanks, Meira," I said.

"Anytime," she grinned. She settled on my pillow and yawned. I lay down beside her, poking her to bring out a giggle.

"Don't you have a bed?" I said.

"I like this one," her eyes drifted closed.

"Meira..."

A silent plea lived in her gaze. I relented.

"'Night, Meems."

She yawned again. "'Night, Syd. Love you."

I stroked her cheek and watched her breathing settle. In a short time, she was fast asleep. If only I could be so lucky.

I closed my eyes and willed the most eventful day of my life to finally end. I heard a soft step at the door and felt my mother's presence. I faked sleep, not wanting to get into anything with her in the state I was in. She hesitated at the door before entering. I felt her come to the side of the bed, smelled her perfume as her power settled like a warm blanket around us. She softly kissed first Meira and, after a moment's pause, me. Her lips were soft and warm and her breath sweet with wine.

"I love you," she whispered. And then, she was gone.

I almost sat up but I didn't want to wake Meira. I bit back a wave of sadness and squeezed my eyes shut against threatening tears. The little girl Meira had awakened in me wanted to run after my Mommy and have her hold me forever. I struggled, knowing those days were gone and I ended them, not Mom. If she had her choice, I know we would still be very close. The fact I chose to cut myself off from her was something I either had to live with or do something about. I knew my mother would welcome me back into the fold with open arms, no questions asked. Exactly how much was I willing to give up, to compromise? Could I really find a way we could both be happy with the consequences?

I felt a heavy weight land on the end of the bed and a fat, warm cat body made its way up between my sister and I to settle in the small valley between us. I opened my eyes and looked into Sass's golden ones. He curled up, face next to mine, tail brushing my chin.

"Don't get any ideas," he said. "I was cold."

I laughed and kissed him on the head.

"Thanks, Sassafras," I whispered.

"Anytime," he winked one amber eye in his cat way. He settled, chin on his paws.

I'm not sure if it was the comfort of two extra bodies or total emotional exhaustion but I had no trouble falling asleep.

***

# Chapter Ten

Despite the endless promises I made, the next day while prepping for school I found myself yet again a slave to trend setting and lip-gloss. So much for the new and improved Syd who didn't take crap from anyone. In fact, by the time I hit the front steps, I was a nervous wreck. How much damage had I done? If they thought I was a freak before, what was I classified as a target now?

Unfortunately, yes. Might as well have had a bull's-eye painted on my chest. From the moment I set foot in the front lobby of Wilding Springs High, I opened myself to the bombardment of Alison's revenge. Not just Alison, either, from the looks I took from the general population. I was in it deep and even those who might have felt some sympathy gave me a wide berth. They knew a sinking ship when they saw one. Nobody wanted to get sucked in when the vortex of Alison decided my doom was at hand.

Still, they started small, bless them, softened me up a bit, eased me into it. Nothing overt, at least not at first. If I was doing the bullying the whole dissection of self-esteem would have been way more messy. I would never give the sucker a chance to see what was coming. Hit them with both barrels right away. But then again, I wasn't an expert in emotional and psychological torture like Alison and the 'Fem Bots'. They were far more subtle, insidious, breaking down the spirit and will of their chosen prey, chipping away at all self-esteem with their French manicures and evil hearts.

The people who think witches are dangerous were never bullied in high school.

So, like clockwork, the subtle, nasty stuff started it off. At least I was expecting it. Not wanting it, hoping I could avoid it, but otherwise knowing in my soul it was inevitable.

It began with the 'innocent' bump knocking my trendy bag into a puddle of spilled chocolate milk that just happened to be there. I managed to get to a bathroom and get most of it out before it stained. Of course, the milk already had time to turn rancid, naturally. Fresh stuff wouldn't do. So, stinky purse it was, then.

I was vaguely surprised to make it to my locker with only minor tripping and secretive name-calling incidents. Surely they would attempt something else in the three minutes it took me to get to homeroom? I needn't have worried. They thought of everything.

Someone scrawled 'bitch' across my locker door with black marker. I suffered glares from the people with lockers around me. Goody, Syd's making more friends.

I took a deep breath and chose to ignore it. I think it's probably one of the bravest things I have ever done.

I tried to put it in perspective. After all, someone went to all the time and trouble to decorate my locker door. Wow, that took talent. And, hey, I was part of something normal, wasn't I? Amazing I could cheer myself up at a time like this.

But more was to come, oh yes.

My homeroom teacher, Ms. Fiat, was not amused by the use of vocabulary displayed on my locker door, and made me go to the office to tell the vice-principal what happened. Which meant I ended up cleaning the door of my locker myself because the janitor refused to do it. Even better, I missed a test in English I had to make up on my own time.

This was getting old fast.

Imagine my absolute misery when I returned to class in time to find out Quaid Moromond was in my homeroom.

Oh, the day just went better and better. I struggled to ignore the burning sensation on the back of my head as his smirk wore a hole through me. When I stood up at the end of period bell, I caught his eye. He smiled at me in a dark and nasty way.

"Syd." It wasn't fair his voice made me shiver with the richness of it now that I'd decided he wasn't getting anywhere near me.

"Quaid." I think I managed the right tone. That's it. Keep it impersonal.

His grin widened while the dark of his eyes stayed flat and cool. "Nice school you have here." Those words felt like a weapon. Did he know already what an outcast I was? How could he? Panic overtook me even as my demon inhaled his scent and decided she liked what she smelled.

Traitor.

"You can have it." My voice wavered a bit as I struggled to control her and my concern about how much he knew. I'm not sure why it bothered me since I figured if he didn't know he'd be finding out soon enough. Still.

Quaid rolled his shoulders in a shrug, the leather of his black jacket creaking. "We'll see," he said, sounding bored as he looked around. "Nothing's caught my attention so far."

He was a total and complete ass. My body vibrated with the need to slap him while my demon hummed and purred, reaching tendrils of herself around my trembling shields. I stepped back quickly, out of physical reach, hating that she had so much control over me.

"Maybe you'll be moving on soon, then." I made it pretty clear my opinion on the matter just from the glare I gave him.

"Maybe. I'll see you, Syd." He had the nerve to offer a little wave and a wink as he brushed past me out the door.

I snarled at my demon to shut up and stop whining when he disappeared into the crowd. Like I wanted anything to do with the arrogant creep. I had no idea what the demon side of me saw in him and had no desire to find out.

I slumped through second period in misery, simply ignoring the hail of spit balls from the back of the room, knowing they were added fun, not on Alison's sophisticated lineup of plans for my personal embarrassment. No, this was simply the football team adding their own particular brand of Neanderthal entertainment.

A quick trip to the bathroom after class for some rapid brushing eliminated the offending projectiles. I tried to ignore the stares and unfriendly giggles from the other girls in the room and bent to replace my brush in my bag, only to discover it missing. I checked around, feeling a little desperate when I found it gone. The bathroom emptied, innocent kids running for cover as they sensed the horror to come. I turned in time to see one of Alison's cronies smiling at me. Her eyes flickered to a stall as she left me all alone in the bathroom. I went to the doorway and cringed before looking inside.

I wished I hadn't. The entire contents of my bag were in the toilet. My lip-gloss tube floated gallantly to the surface while most of the rest of my belongings soaked up water and sank like rocks to the bottom of the bowl.

Oh, well. At least no one used it first. Anything to give this a silver lining.

I was running out of pep talks, though.

It took me the better part of lunch to retrieve and dry my stuff, at least the stuff I wanted to salvage. Most of it ended up in the trash with the added moisture of my silent tears for good measure. I was glad I was alone in the bathroom. I would have hated it if it got back to Alison she managed to make me cry so early in the game.

The last thing I fished out was a picture of Meira, one of my favorites. That pissed me off. The anger from the day before started to emerge again. I shoved it away immediately. I was already in enough trouble. There was no way I'd willingly bring down any more crap on myself by being stupid enough to think I could stand against Alison when she really wanted me to suffer.

I retrieved my lunch from my locker and retreated to a quiet corner to eat it with the five minutes I had left. I curled up on a wide windowsill in a quiet part of the school and tried not to cry some more. I started to nibble at my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, feeling the most alone I ever had, finally tossing the majority of it in the trash. No use eating something that tasted like defeat.

When the bell rang, I squared my shoulders and went to class. I would take my punishment and get my life back to normal.

But what if this is just the beginning? I froze in mid-step, forcing a couple of people walking behind me to go around and give me odd glances. I gulped, averting my eyes, panic gripping me. I hated when that little voice reared its ugly head. This was not going to continue. This was Alison Morgan wanting her pound of flesh, nothing more. As long as I behaved and took my knocks, it would dry up and go away.

Only I had a sinking feeling the little voice was right.

Chemistry was a nightmare. I stuttered through a presentation as Alison watched me. Worst of all, Quaid did too. I had it hard enough dealing with the real world. Why did my other life have to get involved all of a sudden? I managed to glare back at him before taking my seat. I saw Alison notice. She had a look of interest on her face that made me nervous and after class I saw why. She chatted up Quaid. The two seemed to be hitting it off quite nicely.

Probably plotting against me, I thought. When they laughed and glanced my way, I knew my paranoia was justified.

By the end of the day I was a quivering wreck. The small insults kept coming, from a trip here sending me sprawling and tearing my new jeans, to a horrid little note being passed to me from an anonymous author telling me what everyone thought of me, to getting sent to the principal's office again for passing notes. Not to mention the gagging noises and hocking of lugies following me everywhere. I couldn't win and knew without a doubt if it kept up much longer I would personally do something coven-related to make us move.

Finally the endless day ended. I grabbed my remaining belongings from my locker, not willing to leave anything behind. I turned into the crowd to run home and hide under my comforter. Tomorrow was going to be a sick day if I had to make myself ill.

Didn't I do it again? Ran right smack into Brad. I almost had a heart attack. Set up! My little voice screamed as I scanned the crowd for Alison. What diabolical scheme was this? I backed away from him, feeling like I'd just dropped out of the fire into the burning pit of hell. Brad stepped forward, concern on his face, the half-smile in greeting fading fast.

"Syd?" He reached out one hand. "Are you okay?"

I risked another glance around the crowd for the bitch queen. Still no Alison. Despite her absence, I knew the kids in the hallway watched and listened with every fiber in their being.

"Yeah, thanks," I ducked my head and tried to dodge him. He wasn't having any. Brad stopped me by grabbing my arm, not hard. The touch alone was enough to make me halt and look up.

"I seem to keep running into you," he said, trying to make a joke of it. "I'm really sorry."

I blinked, feeling like someone hit me hard. He was sorry? Brad Peters was blaming himself for my inexcusable clumsiness? Seriously? I allowed myself to soften and believe it. After a heartbeat, I toughened up.

Definitely a trap.

"Stop being nice," I snapped, tired and upset and frustrated after my long day in a very long week, and it was only Tuesday. "I know Alison put you up to this, so you can stop. I get it, consider me punished."

Brad shook his head, confused. Could it be true he had no idea? No one could be that out of touch. The hallway itself vibrated with tension from me and the other kids in the know.

But nope. He really was clueless. Imagine that.

"I don't know what Alison told you, Syd," Brad said, "but she didn't put me up to anything. I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"You shouldn't be talking to me," I told him, despite wanting more than anything for him to keep talking to me. Brad Peters was - talking - to - me.

"Why not?" His beautiful eyes crinkled at the corners as he frowned.

"Alison won't like it," I said as softly as I could, worried like in magic, names had power. But nope, no wicked witch appeared. Amazing.

"Alison doesn't tell me who to talk to," Brad replied. "I've actually been wanting to say 'hi' for a while."

I stared at him in open shock, not even aware of the world around me. In that glorious moment, it was just me and him. Any fantasy I imagined on my own couldn't compare to this.

"Really?" I hated how my voice squeaked a little. "How come?"

Brad laughed. The whole world shone like heaven when Brad laughed.

"No reason. Is that okay?" His green eyes gave me the most delicious shivers. It was almost too much for me to comprehend.

"I guess," I said. "I just find it a little strange."

"Why?" His turn to be confused.

"No one else seems to want to get to know me." As soon as I spoke, I worried I sounded like a whiner. "Small town, hard to meet people, you know?"

He ran one hand through his glossy blonde hair. My insides trembled as my knees went soft.

"Yeah, I get it," he said. "It must be tough. I grew up here, guess it's way easier for me."

"I guess," I breathed, clinging to the brief instant in time that I, Syd Hayle, was talking to the most popular boy in school because he wanted to say hello. I knew I'd be replaying it over and over when I made it home.

"So maybe we can go get a pizza or something sometime," Brad said.

And the blessed angels sang Hallelujah. If it kept up much longer, I would need him to hold me up. Which meant he would have to—sigh—touch me and I didn't know if I would survive it.

In the heartbeat I thought the idea could even possibly come true, reality struck.

Alison finally arrived. I thought I was toast before. The expression on her face could have killed a bird in flight. I spotted her over Brad's shoulder. I guess my flinching at the thought of what she had planned next must have alerted him something was wrong. By the time he turned around, Alison morphed herself from a she-bitch from hell to perky cheerleader.

"Brad," Alison slipped one possessive hand through his arm, linking the other over it, a clear and powerful sign of ownership from one girl to another. "I was waiting for you at my locker but you didn't come." She formed her perfect bow mouth into an expert pout and gazed up at him through her fluttering eyelashes. I knew she'd been practicing that one in front of the mirror since birth.

"Alison," Brad looked away from her, actually looked away, and back to me. "I'm talking to Syd."

Part of me wanted to die because Brad cemented my fate. The other part wanted to die because Brad wanted to have pizza with me. I couldn't tell which was worse.

Alison seemed to think she knew. Her eyes cut through me like I wasn't even there.

"Well, we have to go. Everyone's crashing at Johnny's for burgers and you promised you'd take me, remember?"

I noticed we were alone. The local kids knew an impending explosion when they saw one. No one wanted to be called as witnesses against Alison Morgan.

Brad reached out and removed Alison's hands from his arm. He took one step away from her.

"I can't today," he said. "I promised Syd I'd walk her home."

My heart leapt from my chest and to his feet. Okay, not really, but it felt like it. On the edge of hyperventilating, reality crashed down around me, only to be temporarily lifted when Brad turned his attention to me. Reality hit again and so on until I was sure I was going to pass out from the rush.

Alison's face showed her rage for only a heartbeat, but I know Brad saw it. I saw it too. Heck, the entire world saw it. I breathed in and held it.

"Since when do you walk losers home after school?" She demanded. "Our friends are waiting for us."

"Syd's not a loser," Brad was actually becoming angry. He was so cute when he was angry. Hang on, was he honestly defending me?

"Really," Alison said, giving me the dirty eyeball. "Well I say she is."

"Get over yourself, Alison," he said. "No one likes a bitch."

I had a flash of worry for him. Was he really that naive?

Obviously, yes. Alison laughed.

"Says who?" She said, arrogant smile condescending.

"Guess I'm a loser too, then," Brad said, "because I don't." He turned away from her. "Ready to go, Syd?"

I couldn't believe he just did that.

Neither could Alison.

"Brad!" She pulled at his arm. "You are not! No boyfriend of mine will ever be a loser. Ever!"

"Consider this a breakup," he answered. Brad reached out to me and in my total shock, I went with him. He guided me into the echoingly empty hall beyond.

What had I gotten myself into? I glanced over at him and saw he still looked mad. In fact, he ignored the few kids he did know on the way out. Even the calls of his football buddies from across the parking lot went unanswered as we hit the sidewalk headed for my house.

Brad flashed me a boyish grin.

"Sorry you had to see that, Syd," he said.

"Did you really break up with Alison?" I asked, clutching the remains of my belongings to me like a lifeline.

"Yeah," he said. "I guess I did."

"Wow," I said.

"I didn't mean to drag you into it," he kicked at a piece of loose pavement as we walked. "I guess you being there... I used you, I'm sorry."

"No worries," I said.

"Seriously," he turned to me, concern on his earnest face, "it wasn't fair of me. It's just... I've been looking for a reason to dump her for a while."

"Really?" I gasped. "How come?"

He shrugged, hands deep in his pockets. "She's just, I don't know, not nice sometimes. Mean. Like to you. And other people. And she treats me like she owns me. I hate that." He stared off, not with me at all and yet, I was happy to be there as his sounding board.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked. "You have all the same friends."

"Big deal," he said. "They won't care."

"You believe that?" I made a face, certain now he was clueless.

"Don't you?" He asked.

"No. Are you telling me you don't know what she will do to you after this? Never mind what she's going to do to me." I shuddered and tried not to think about it.

"I don't know what you mean," Brad answered.

"Brad," I tried to get through to him. "Alison is the queen of retaliation. She will torture you, turn your friends against you. Probably make my life a living misery day after day if this one is any indication."

"You had a bad day?" I briefly considered asking him if his mom dropped him a lot as a baby.

"I had the day from hell, thanks to your ex-girlfriend. She was pissed at me for yesterday. You really didn't know?"

Brad shook his head. "I'll talk to her, Syd. Get her to leave you alone."

I didn't even try to hide the bitterness in the bark I called a laugh.

"Do me a favor and don't, okay? No offense, but you'll make things worse. If it's even possible at this point."

Brad stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Crap, Syd," he said. "I can't seem to get anything right. I'm sorry about Alison. And if us being friends is going to make things worse, I'll leave you alone."

It took a second for that to register. Damn! Talk about backfire!

Before I had a chance to tell him different, a black SUV pulled up next to us, the tinted windows rolling down. I could hear giggling from inside the truck. A couple of football boys leaned out.

"Hey, man, get in! Johnny's flipping burgers as we speak!"

Brad turned to me.

"See you around, Syd," he said. I wanted so much to stop him but knew I lost the battle. I turned and started walking, refusing to watch him leave, kicking myself over and over for being so stupid as to turn away not only the first person who tried to be my friend but the very person I fantasized about having as a friend in the first place.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by the derogatory remarks flying from the SUV as it sped by. Listening to the fading laughter, I felt really hurt Brad didn't put a stop to it.

***

# Chapter Eleven

I didn't even bother trying to hide my dejection when I walked through the door at home. By that point, I didn't care one way or the other who saw me or knew. Whatever. I told myself it didn't matter, they couldn't really hurt me. They were only words and stupid rotten idiots and we'd be moving soon anyway. I'd be able to start fresh with a new batch of horrible people to try to avoid at all costs.

I walked into the kitchen to my mother's smiling face and a fresh batch of cookies.

Funny what can make you break down and sob your heart out.

As I fell totally and utterly apart, I felt Mom's arms go around me. I clung to her like she was my only anchor to the real world. As I wept into her, pouring out my frustration and grief in huge heaves of choking tears, she held on to me and stroked my hair.

How come we couldn't keep that connection?

I finally collapsed, finding one of the kitchen chairs in time to catch myself from slipping to the floor. Mom grabbed one of her own and pulled it up in front of me, our knees interlocking so she could still hug me if I needed it. She pushed my hair back from my face, fingers stroking the tears from my cheeks while her power embraced me. I felt so safe at that moment, so open to her I released the hold on my own power and let her support me completely.

If she was startled by it, she didn't show it. In fact, if she was at all confused her daughter turned into a wretched mess coming home from school, she was an expert at hiding it. I snuffled and wiped at my nose with the back of my sleeve. Her fingers twitched. A tissue manifested in her hand. I took it and blew my nose hard, a little dizzy from the heavy crying. When I lowered it, she disposed of it with another twitch of her fingers. I managed a little humor through my misery.

"You could make a fortune in the sanitation business, Mom," I said. "No more landfills."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head, but not in denial. In amazement. "Would you mind telling me who you are and what you did with Miriam Hayle?"

She smiled. So not like her. Where were the grilling questions, the third degree? Was she going to respect my privacy and let me go to my room without unearthing why I was such a pile of quivering goo?

Unless she already knew. But how?

"Who have you been talking to?" I asked, suspicious. Old habits and all that.

Mom looked hurt. I regretted doubting this new Mom, clearly trying her hardest even if I refused to meet her half way.

"No one, honey. I just... you can tell me when you're ready." She started to stand, but I grabbed her arm. She held my hands and waited, open. I could feel it in her power, in the way she looked at me.

Anything else and I would have run. But if she was willing to change, so was I. Besides, who else was I going to confide in?

I told her everything, not just about that day but about every new school I went to, how it always started out the same and ended in disaster. I poured out all of my hurt and fear and pain and she listened to it without a word or complaint, her strength never wavering, never judging me as I always feared to be judged, because I constantly judged myself. By the time I explained what happened with Alison and Brad, I felt a lot better. I'm not sure if it was the fact she simply sat and listened or if the telling helped me heal. Maybe a bit of both.

She stayed silent for a few minutes after I finished. Finally, she went for the tray of cookies, bringing them back to the table and setting them in front of me. I helped myself to one, watching as she struggled over what to say.

"Syd, honey, I know how hard this is for you and Meira," she said. "Your sister may appear to have it easier, but the strain of maintaining her illusion all day gets to her after a while, not to mention the damage being done to her self-esteem knowing she can't be who she is and has to hide it all the time."

I knew I was being selfish. She didn't need to point it out. Still, I also knew she understood I was screwed up over this whole thing, so I stayed quiet.

"I'm sorry this isn't the life you would have chosen for yourself. Believe me, Syd, if being a normal was what you really wanted, I would move the Earth to give it to you. But honey, I don't think it is."

Great. The lecture. And to think I started to trust her.

The lecture never came. Surprise, surprise.

"I don't think you realize we've all gone through it to one degree or another. I'm not making what you've experienced any less," she assured me, "but it seems to me you've been trying so hard to belong you're making it impossible for yourself to fit in. Syd," she took my hands in hers, "I know you don't think you want to be like us, but you do belong. And maybe if you stopped wanting to be someone you aren't, things would change. If you accepted Syd for Syd, you wouldn't spend so much time making yourself in their image. In fact, I'm pretty sure the real Syd wouldn't put up with their crap for even an instant."

The words coming out of her mouth were so close to the thoughts I'd been thinking I wondered if she tried to influence me or poke around in my mind. But as I stared into her eyes, I saw she actually gave a voice to what I already knew was true. The question remained, was I willing to do anything about it?

The first thing I did was hug my mother. Despite my instinct to storm from the room and act like I usually did, rail against her, tell her she would never understand, I embraced her and used my power to squeeze her too.

"I love you, Mom," I said.

"I love you too," she whispered, voice thick. When I leaned back, she wiped at one cheek. I knew I finally made Mom cry for a good reason.

"I need a shower," I said, picking up the remains of my purse. I wanted to scrape the rest of that hideous day from me as completely as possible.

"I guess so," she said. "And Syd," she wrinkled her nose as I left the kitchen, "you can throw out that bag, okay?"

I scrubbed so hard in the shower my whole body turned red and my hair squeaked, but when I toweled off and dressed, I felt a hundred times better. I looked in the foggy mirror at myself. My reflection stared back, as determined as I was.

That was it. Mom was right. I was done being the new kid, the torture victim. If Alison thought she could use her little tactics against me, she had another thing coming.

I was so wrapped up in what was going on, I almost forgot about soccer practice.

I loved the outdoors, way more than a normal kid, I guess because witches were so attached to the earth. It was one of the only things about being a witch I didn't mind. Given the choice between watching movies in my room and messing around in the back yard, I'd choose outside, hands down. One of the reasons I loved soccer so much.

By the time I changed into my jersey and made it back downstairs, Mom wasn't there. A quick glance at the driveway told me she was gone. Her pristine blue and white '66 Mustang coupe was missing from the front of the house. She probably had it at the car wash. Mom wasn't what you'd call a materialistic person by any means, but she loved that car more than she loved us.

I almost made it out the door when it swung open. Erica and Jared let themselves in. Yet another thing that bugged me about the coven. No one knocked. They waltzed into each other's houses like it was home and put their feet up. One more thing for the list. I vowed to keep my door locked when I was older and on my own.

Erica tried a smile, but it was weak and I knew she was still mad at me for Mom's sake. Being my mom's best friend meant she heard all the gory details about us, including, I'm sure, stuff I don't want to know about Dad. I shuddered thinking about it. But, it also meant she would take Mom's side as usual and give me a hard time.

Her boyfriend Jared, on the other hand, would play good cop and try to be the diplomat. I hated being tag teamed and wondered if it was a setup.

Erica tossed back her blonde bob, her soft blue eyes pinning me so I couldn't escape. She always dressed neat and tidy, makeup flawless, matching outfit adorable on her slim figure. She tried another smile and this one stuck.

"Syd, I'm glad I ran into you."

Now I knew it was a setup. "You're in my house."

She frowned, the line between her brows deeper than I remembered the last time we had 'the talk.'

"Syd, seriously, we need to discuss this thing about your mom."

I rolled my eyes.

"I don't suppose it would help to tell you to mind your own business, would it?"

I've never seen Erica turn that particular shade before. I clamped my lips together, knowing laughing in her face would make it worse.

Jared coughed, near laughter himself. He winked at me from behind her, sharing the joke. I tried not to grin back, but lost. There was something about the tall, dark and handsome Jared Runnel that made you want to trust him with your deepest, darkest secrets, the kind of person who would be great to share a practical joke with. Didn't hurt he was yummy, either. Strong jaw, warm brown eyes, great muscles. Still there was a secret behind those eyes, as if he privately laughed at all of us. I wondered sometimes if I was in on the joke or part of it.

"Erica," Jared said, "I think Syd is right."

Erica turned on him, fists on hips, doing her best angry society girl. Pathetic.

And they said I was a normal conformist.

"Jared." She gave him the dirty eyeball. "Stay out of this." She turned back to me, all business down to her fake French manicure.

I pulled myself up on the kitchen counter. "Fine. Go ahead. But I already know everything you're going to say."

"Then why do I have to keep saying it?" Erica's stern expression softened. She leaned on the counter, dropping the act. I liked Erica much better this way. "Syd, why do you have to be so hard on your mother?"

"I'm working on it," I said.

She looked startled. "Sorry?"

"I know this isn't doing it for either of us, okay? I need everyone to back off and let me handle it for once. Can you do that?"

She couldn't speak for several seconds.

Jared's whole being shone with laughter. "Wow. Erica speechless."

I shot him a don't-mess-this-up glare, biting my lip to keep from smiling.

He winked back.

"Okay." She looked at me like I sprouted something unusual and she wasn't sure if it suited me or not. I hopped off of the counter, keeping my eyes firmly away from Jared's teasing.

"Thanks for the concern. I have to go to soccer."

I left the kitchen and a silent Erica, leveling a mock punch at Jared's shoulder on my way out. I almost missed the speculation in his eyes behind his dazzling white flash of teeth, and wondered what it meant.

I glanced at my oversized sport watch as I let the door slam shut behind me. I had about a half an hour to cover the five minutes it took to get to the field before practice. I was always early and I didn't want to break my perfect record as the first one there.

I was lacing up my cleats when the first of my teammates started to arrive.

I didn't really have any friends on the team, not because I wasn't nice to the girls, but because I 'felt' different. To normals, the witch in me came across as some sort of weird aura marking me from ordinary as much as a banner across my forehead. So as much as I was a great soccer player and an asset to the team, it meant even though I was welcome on the field, I wasn't invited into their lives outside of the game.

Story of my life.

Coach Matters pulled up in his beat-up truck, followed closely by the rest of the team. No more feeling sorry for myself. At least, not about my lack of friends. I had tougher things to worry about. Like handling the ball, running until I couldn't feel my legs and loving every second of it so much I never wanted it to end.

I adored my coach, as much as I could adore a man who worked us so hard I wanted to throw up on a regular basis. Andrew Matters was the perfect trainer, compact himself with a bit of a limp from years and years playing the game he now taught. I loved how tough he could be on us and ignored the complaints of the other players. The harder I worked my body, the more normal I felt. Somehow, soccer shut down my worries about magic and set me free.

Plus, I was addicted to the rush, the smell of fresh cut grass, the impact of hurtling bodies that only turned to pain hours later. I lived so much in the moment on the field. I'm not sure what it was about soccer in particular, especially considering I sucked at all other sports I tried. Maybe it was just the one normal thing I was good at. And I was _really_ good at it. So much so the coach pushed me way harder than the rest of the girls and they knew it. No wonder I wasn't popular.

But, on the field, I didn't care about popular, probably the only place I didn't. On the field all that mattered was the ball, the grass and getting it in the net.

I packed up reluctantly at the end of practice, dragging my butt, wishing I had anywhere to go but home. I longed for friends to hang out with, to be normal and not the girl who lived the life of a cloistered nun. None of the other girls offered, as usual, going their own ways in their little packs of twos and threes. I tried to insert myself when I first arrived but took the hint pretty quickly. Their clubhouse was closed to new members. So, I made the return trip a lot slower going than coming.

I was almost home when I noticed with horror the hunched, skinny old woman across the street. My stomach clenched into immediate anxiety. I almost dropped my backpack in my haste to get to her before something awful happened. Even from thirty feet away, I recognized her hair, white and wild. In daylight, Gram's paper-thin skin almost glowed with the veins underneath. She stumbled to a halt in front of a mailbox, dressed only in a thin, flowered nightgown brushing her bare toes. She proceeded to have a heated conversation with it, gesturing wildly. I rolled my eyes as I reached her, waving at a passing car whose driver watched with concern.

I gently touched her arm. She glanced up, pale blue eyes almost white they were so washed of color. Her lips pulled back into a grimace. She clutched at me, thin hands surprisingly strong.

"He won't apologize," Gram gestured at the innocent mailbox.

"I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, Gram," I said softly to her, wishing I at least had a normal grandmother, not the disabled witch clinging to me, offended by a box on a stick.

"He said some horrible things, Miriam," she whispered. "Horrible."

"It's Syd, Gram," I sighed and tried to pull her away. "Let's go home, okay? Mom will be worried about you."

"Lewd things," she hissed, eyes flashing, "vulgar and suggestive."

"Really?" I tried to distract her. "Maybe Mom will want to hear it."

"Maybe I do, too!" She cackled, hopping up and down on one foot to the other, face splitting into a huge grin. "Say it again, sweetheart!"

Gram reached out to grab the mailbox as I spotted the twitch of the living room curtain across the lawn. I waved, trying to appear harmless, tugging in earnest. I yanked at her even harder when I spotted a huge black dog. Yikes. This family had obvious protection issues to need a monster like that in the family. I felt a sudden shock of recognition. It was the same dog I saw the day before outside my house. Only this time, I paid attention to what he looked like.

Shaggy, thick and massive, more pony than canine, he stood by the corner of the house, staring. The way he watched me made me shiver. I wasn't sure if Gram's antics would trigger an attack or not but I wasn't about to hang around and find out. Man, that dog was huge.

"Let's go, Gram, the mailbox doesn't want to play today."

She pulled free of me, shrieking. "Let me go! Leave me alone!"

I pulled a little harder, not wanting to give her the chance to take off on her own. Who knew what the dog would do if he saw her run away?

A wicked gleam appeared in my grandmother's eyes.

"Witch!" She cackled happily. "She's a witch! Help, she's evil, evil!"

"That's it," I grated through clenched teeth, keeping one eye on the dog and the other on her, "no more nice Syd. Here, Gram," I fished out a large milk chocolate bar from the front of my backpack. I had been saving it for a rainy day of pajamas and bad TV, but this was way more important. Thank goodness I had it with me in the first place. Besides chocolate, the only other distraction that worked was tequila and I was too young to carry it around. Guess the Boy Scouts have the 'be prepared' thing all figured out after all.

Her gaze lit up like a child as she tore into the wrapper. I managed to turn her around and start her walking the block back to our house. I glanced over at the dog, but he was gone. Dodged that bullet. We slowly made our way without much incident while Gram sucked and smacked at the melting chocolate. One glance at her and I knew it would take a whole lot of scrubbing to get her clean. But, at least she was quiet.

She stopped at the end of our driveway and I flinched. I took her by the arm again, hoping to head off another outburst, wondering why the chocolate hadn't done the trick when she turned to me, face blank and serious.

"Darkness comes," she said softly, wetly around the chocolate in her mouth.

"Yeah, Gram, sometime today."

She turned to me and pressed her index finger into my chest. I looked at the smear of chocolate. There was no way I was getting the stain out of my pale blue jersey.

"Nice, Gram," I said.

"No light has it seen," she continued as if I hadn't spoken, "none will it see, for it chooses the dark."

I stopped tugging.

"Gram? What are you talking about?"

"From within, but without," she whispered to me. "Its goal is power, its joy, pain. Darkness comes, Sydlynn, and you must stop it."

I shook my head, not sure what to say. This was the most lucid I ever saw my grandmother, if you could call it lucid. She even managed to get my name right for the first time ever. Here she was after decades of living in her own little existence, attempting to communicate, and I had no idea what she was trying to say.

"Gram," I said. "Who is it, can you tell me?"

"Beware," she said.

Our conversation ended with the banging of the kitchen door. Mom ran out into the yard toward us, her face a combination of anger and fear.

"Mother!" She reached for Gram, spotting the chocolate. "Syd!"

"Mom!" I fired back.

"Did you have to give her that?" Mom tried to take the last of the bar from Gram but the old lady was quick. She managed to stuff it into her mouth with a squeal of joy. I half reached toward her but the woman I just spoke to had gone, leaving the damaged mind in control. Part of me wondered if it was the ravings of a crazy woman after all, but I needed to be sure.

"Mom," I started, "Gram—"

"Is a mess and who knows what she's been up to," Mom snapped at me. "Really, Syd, is it too much to ask for you to watch out for your grandmother? I was gone an hour and this happens!"

I froze, letting the familiar anger wash over me. I was used to being blamed by now, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"Not sure how I'm supposed to do that from soccer practice," I snapped back.

"Your family is far more important than some game, Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle," Mom used my full name to push my buttons. "She could have been hurt. Or worse, she could have hurt someone."

"I'm not her babysitter," I said. "I have a life. Be grateful I found her and brought her back." My anger had the better of my mouth.

Mom's face turned a shade of purple.

"Get in the house, young lady, right now!"

"Fine, I was headed there anyway!" I snapped back. I stomped past her, and shoved the kitchen door, making it squeal on its hinges.

"Get back here and help me clean up this mess!" Mom yelled after me.

"Only when you get around to making up your mind!" I kicked the door shut and ran up to my room before I completely lost it.

I slammed my bedroom door without gaining any satisfaction. I leaned against it, shaking with anger. This would never work. What was I thinking? She was impossible and I was sick of trying. I was done reaching out to her, before I even had the chance.

Magic or no magic, I couldn't wait to cut myself loose from my crazy family.

***

# Chapter Twelve

In bed, I poured over the day, finding it hard to shut down my mind. Now that I made my decision about school, I couldn't wait. I was looking forward to talking to Brad, to making friends, to stop volunteering as a punching bag and just be myself. And if they didn't like me? No big change there. I was mad at myself for letting the years of bullying get to me. When had I gotten so weak, so unwilling to stand up for myself? When did being like them become more important than being me?

My mind shied away from the answer. I think I knew wherever it came from was at the core of my distaste for magic. Ever since I could remember, I felt an aversion to using my power, like something inside me screamed "No!" every time I tried to tap in. It didn't hurt or anything, aside from making my stomach queasy and giving me a brief case of the dizzies. It almost felt like my conscience trying to stop me. Over the years I'd grown to listen to it. Maybe it meant I wasn't supposed to be a witch after all. Whatever the reason, even though I'd told Mom about it years ago, neither of us had ever found a malignant influence, so I learned to live with it. But not my power.

Mom. Yeah. I also had no desire to ponder my relationship with her either. How was it I could love her so much one minute and hate her guts the next?

Instead of digging deeper, telling myself I did enough personal exploration for the day, thank you very much, I drifted to the memory of talking to Brad Peters, of walking with him, of the way his soft hair moved in the breeze, how his eyes shone open and honest, his smile, his voice...

I was so lost in the fantasy, it took me a few minutes to see my bedroom wasn't as dark as it had been. Light from the back yard poured through, sparkling from the crystals of my chandelier.

I rolled over and to my knees, leaning over the windowsill and peering out. It only took a heartbeat to register what was about to happen. I leapt from bed and hit the floor running, praying I would not be too late.

I flew down the stairs, heart pounding, feet barely touching the floor and made the kitchen, sliding on sock feet, barely catching myself from skidding the rest of the way across the floor by grabbing the edge of the kitchen table. I made it to the closest cupboard, breathless, scrambling for the half empty bottle stuffed in the back behind the cans of soup and beans. I heard and felt the build-up of power from the back yard and the soft drone of a voice. I spun and dove for the back door, cursing softly under my breath as I raced across the dew-wet grass to where Gram stood, casting a very large and very noisy spell.

I wasn't sure which was worse–the fact my grandmother was totally naked or the glowing ball of light she conjured. I'm not sure what the neighbors did to offend her, but whatever she was bringing to life, it would flatten their elegant two-story, no questions asked.

I spun the top from the bottle of tequila as I slid to a halt beside her and shoved the smooth glass into her right hand, bringing it up forcefully to her mouth. Her incantation halted abruptly. She grasped the bottle with both hands, guzzling from it like a baby with milk. The glowing ball dissipated as her attention switched to the tequila.

I snatched her gown from the ground and threw it around her shoulders, taking her by the elbow, leading her back to the house. I risked a glance around at the surrounding homes.

That stupid dog was in my yard, staring again.

I was so mad, I reacted differently than I normally would have. In a fit of anger, I bent and picked up one of Meira's discarded toys.

"Beat it!" I yelled, throwing the plastic doll directly at him.

He ignored the attack as it missed him by a long shot and continued to stare.

Worried now my outburst would awaken the neighbors, I scowled at the huge monster of a dog while pushing Gram toward the door. By the time I maneuvered her into the house, the dog had left. All was dark and quiet. I was relieved to get her safely inside. I turned off the outside light. By then the bottle was empty. She glared at me over the remains of the tequila and shook it.

"More!" She demanded. I glared right back, angry now the adrenaline wore off.

"Gram!" I snapped. "What were you thinking? Oh, never mind," I took the bottle from her. "You weren't."

I could tell from the silence in the house all the adults were out. Mom or Uncle Frank would have sensed the power before I did and come running if they were home.

I managed to get Gram back to her room, dressed and into bed. It took some time to right her sheets and quilt. Gram was an expert at making a mess. I ignored the scorch marks on the bright yellow walls, leftovers from earlier tantrums. Good thing the room was so heavily warded. Gram could do her worst and the room would just take it. It was a testament to her strength she was able to mark up the pretty paint my mom picked for her.

By the time I had her settled the tequila kicked in. She was nice and pliable. She giggled at me, wispy white hair everywhere. I smoothed it out as best I could. Twice in one day, had to be some kind of record. Mom must have really been slipping.

"How did you get out?" I asked her, a rhetorical question considering she watched me with the intelligence of a four year old.

That's why I was so surprised when she answered.

"He was really nice," she whispered.

"Who was nice, Gram?" I asked.

"The man," she said. She broke into laughter, kicking her feet, rolling her head back and forth on the pillow. She obviously thought it was funny.

I wasn't laughing.

"Right, Gram," I said.

Her gaze shifted in a blink. If I didn't know better, I'd say there was fear in her eyes.

"He opened the door," she said, shrinking down under the blankets. "He said it was all right, I could go out. Was it all right, Mother?" She sat up and grabbed my arm so hard I knew I'd be bruised the next day. "Was I bad?" She started to cry, wail really, clutching at me as tears streaked her cheeks and mucus ran from her nose.

Well. That was a first. I tried not to show my revulsion as I grabbed a handful of tissues and cleaned her up.

"It's okay, it's okay," I used my best soothing voice. "You didn't do anything bad."

She lay back and snuffled. "He was scary," she whispered. "I couldn't feel him right."

I tucked her in, not wanting to abandon her to her fantasy but unwilling to spend the time it would take to really comfort her.

"It's okay, Gram," I said as I stood up. "He won't come back."

"Promise?" She said.

I pulled her door almost closed and turned off the light. "Promise."

"Do you..." her voice was soft, mournful, almost.

I rolled my eyes and tried to be patient.

"Do I what, Gram?"

Her sheets were drawn up under her chin, wispy hair falling over her washed-out blue eyes.

"Do you have something for me?" She asked.

For some reason, I heard that question from her my entire life. Years ago, I tried to find out what I was supposed to give her. These days, I didn't bother trying anymore. Nothing I gave her ever seemed to satisfy.

"Sorry, Gram," I said. "Get some sleep, okay?"

I closed the door behind me. Sad but true, Mom was forced to keep Gram in most of the time so she wouldn't be able to do exactly what she attempted to do. But it was way more for my grandmother's protection than the neighbors.

I tapped in. For someone who didn't want to be a witch and refused to have anything to do with magic, I seemed to be doing the opposite lately.

I shoved aside the squeamish feeling rising and the feeling of wrongness that always came from using my magic, focusing instead on the physical lock for the triple wards Mom set on the door every night. I swallowed back the rush of hot tang the use of my talent left in the back of my throat. But despite my attempts, there were no telltale ward lines, no residue of power, just an ordinary door.

I stepped back and thought about it. Could my mother have forgotten? On her way somewhere important, in a rush? I shook my head to myself. No way, that wasn't in Mom's makeup. Besides, she tucked Gram in personally every night so she knew without a doubt her mother was safe. So where were the wards?

I was at a total loss. I did next to no study in magic, and didn't even know where to start to rebuild the ones Mom used. I hunted around as best I could with my limited training. I almost gave up when I brushed something I didn't recognize. My demon blood roared to life so suddenly I would have fallen if I hadn't sat.

A faint residue of something triggered the other half of me, something my demon did not like one bit, something she recognized, but I had no idea what. There was a rush of sudden heat, the power dipping inside me, sending first a thrill down my spine at the total rightness of it then a surge of nausea so violent, I had to pull back for a moment. This was important, had to be. My whole body went to war over the connection. How could I crave that feeling and be so sick from it at the same time?

There was no way I was letting it push me around. I drew a breath and probed harder. But when I struggled to examine it more closely, it dissipated, as if me poking around made it go away.

I dragged myself to my feet when my demon just as quickly relaxed, leaving me drained but back in control. Whatever it was, it was gone, and so was the part of me reacting instinctively to it.

Okay, I admit it. I was scared. And excited all at the same time. The magic I felt hung in my mind like residue of something I missed. But every time I focused on it, the part of me that hated magic slammed down over my senses and drove me out.

It was the most frustrating ten minutes of my life.

I finally gave in, making a mental note to talk to Mom. Whatever this was, I knew I had to be on to something.

After a quick debate with myself, I went upstairs and retrieved my quilt and pillows, trudging back downstairs to my grandmother's door. I piled up my stuff on the floor and made as comfortable a nest as I could, deciding my best bet was to play sentry with my body if I couldn't with my power.

***

# Chapter Thirteen

I must have been way more tired than I thought because the next thing I remembered was my mom leaning over me, worry plain.

She was about to be very unhappy.

"Syd," she helped me sit up, my comforter collapsing around me as I rubbed the blur from my eyes. "What happened?"

I could tell from her stricken look she already knew her wards were gone.

"Not sure," I answered, getting up from the floor and gathering up my pillow and quilt. "But Gram's safe and sound, so no worries." I yawned, almost missing the fear on her face.

"Did she get out?" Mom stared at the door, arms hugging herself.

"Yeah," I said, "but she made the mistake of turning the outside light on. I spotted her and reached her in time. Man, I don't know what the Griesans did to her but she was stirring up one whopper of a spell." I grinned.

Mom spun on me. "This isn't funny, Sydlynn," she snapped. "Not even a little bit."

My defenses slammed up so hard I barely had time to brace myself. "She's safe, isn't she? So are the neighbors."

"This time," she said. "What happened to the wards?"

"I have no idea," I answered. "They were gone when I got here."

"She couldn't have," Mom talked more to herself than me, shaking her head. She stared at the door again, "not from the inside. You're sure you didn't let her out?"

I scowled at her. No way was she pinning this on me. I saved Gram's butt twice in twenty-four hours and this was the thanks I got?

"I think I'd remember cutting through your wards and letting the crazy lady out, Mom," I said in my most biting tone.

Wow. I'd never seen that particular expression on her face before. Was she mad.

"You will have more respect for your grandmother in my presence," she was really angry, the most angry I'd ever seen her. Didn't do much to disarm me either, because part of me knew she was right. Still, I wasn't in the mood to be called on it.

"I will when you admit you screwed up and stop trying to blame me all the time," I shot back.

"I've had about enough of you, young lady," she snapped at me, eyes flashing, power building. So weird she lost control of her magic like that. I had a flash of real concern. Something about my mom felt foreign, like I was looking at someone wearing her body. The instant passed and good old Mom came back full force, so much so I doubted what I saw.

"Don't blame me your wards fell apart," I said. "I was the one who stopped her from annihilating our block, remember? Geez, you'd think you'd be grateful or something."

"My wards did not just fall apart, thank you very much," she flared back. "You've been dropping power all over the place lately and with your untrained abilities..."

"I didn't let her out!" I was shouting now. "I don't know who did. But it wasn't me."

"Fine," Mom waved her hand at me, going back to study the door. "Enough, I don't want to have this conversation tonight. Go to bed."

She dismissed me. Not just me physically, though. She dismissed my honesty, as though she didn't believe me but didn't have the time to tell me so. She didn't trust me. Worse, she thought me capable of hurting my grandmother. It tore a huge hole inside I felt like a blow.

All the frustration, all the anger and pent up emotion welled up in one huge ball of fury, filling in the gash like a flood of fire. I gathered my stuff to me and clenched my teeth against the desire to call my power and smash her with it. Even I had more control than that, although it would have served her right. She expected me to be a failure, didn't she?

I can only imagine the energy I emanated that turned her toward me.

"Never again," I snarled. "You can take care of it yourself the next time Gram escapes and decides to nuke the neighbors."

Her face hardened. "Go to bed. Right. Now."

I glared at her, anger changing to something cold and hard. The wall that crumbled between us the last few days repaired itself, growing taller and thicker with each passing second.

I drew myself up and clutched my stuff with both hands, putting every ounce of my bitterness and contempt into my face.

"Goodnight, Mother." I said and walked away from her.

Safe in the confines of my room, I threw a few choice pillows around to satisfy the burning rage I clutched to me like a blanket. Part of me worried she was right, maybe it was me that released Gram. But I knew in my heart I was innocent, despite the guilty verdict she already passed. Needless to say I had very little sleep and what I did get wasn't restful.

When I woke up the next morning for school, I was in very foul humor, so much so, in fact, I literally threw on the first pair of jeans and hoody I could find, threw my messy hair back into a pony tail and said good enough. The beauty brigade could kiss my ass.

Whispers in the kitchen halted abruptly when I walked in. I felt the rolling fury start up at the sight of Erica hovering over my mom.

Why couldn't she mind her own damned business?

I ignored both of them, rigid with control, back stiff as I pulled open the fridge door and grabbed my lunch. The contents rattled with the force of the motion.

"Syd," Erica started. "Can we–"

I spun on her so fast I almost dropped the paper bag, boiling over.

"How can you possibly imagine anything you can say to me will change what happened?"

Erica stepped back, as if I was someone she didn't recognize.

"I wanted to talk to you about last night."

"Maybe if you were there," I tried not to snarl at her, "which you weren't, I'd like to hear your opinion. But since you weren't," I stressed it for the second time, just in case she decided to push it, "I couldn't care less what you think."

"Syd!" Mom said, playing the outrage card. "Don't speak to Erica like that. I asked her to talk to both of us. To mediate, since we seem to need help communicating these days." She shot a grateful look at Erica who smiled back. "She's trying to help."

I was so not in the mood for tag-team coven. This was classic in my family. Everything was dealt with in witch fashion, mediated, talked to death. I was sick of it and sick of them.

"This is so typical of you," I said to Mom, the boiling getting to a level that scared me. "Big bad witch, stronger than God, and you don't have the courage to admit you were wrong. Mediate, sure, convince me it was my fault and clear your conscience, you mean."

Mom stepped forward, angry again. Erica took her arm, concerned, but my mom shook her off.

"I was worried about Mother last night," she said. "No matter what happened, I know if you were involved you would never have let her out on purpose."

Still in blame mode. Naturally. I wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. "Really? Wow, you don't know me at all!" The sarcasm hurt my own ears. "Didn't you know? I let her out all the time, hoping she'll do something horrible so we can move yet again and I can be the new girl one more time before I hit my senior year." The kitchen vibrated with my contempt.

"I think that's about enough of that attitude, young lady," Mom snapped back.

This was not cooling our tempers, and Erica knew it.

"Please, Syd," she said. "This animosity is hurting both of you. You two need to work things out. Now. Before it gets blown even further out of proportion than it already has."

"Too late," I muttered.

Mom regained control of her temper and squared her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But I was upset, worried about your grandmother. It doesn't excuse me losing my temper," she glanced at Erica and back to me, "and I am very sorry."

How nice.

"For what," I asked.

"What?" She seemed genuinely confused.

"What are you sorry for?" I was pushing her. I wanted her to say it for some reason, wanted her to put it into words, out in the world where we could both see it, examine it, feel it. I dug away at the open wound between us, making it bleed all over again.

"For losing my temper," she said. "I've apologized, Syd. I was wrong."

"You can't even say it, can you?" I wanted to throw something at her but wasn't willing to loosen my grip on the lunch bag. It felt like the ordinary weight and texture of it was the only thing holding me back. "Did you even tell Erica what you did?"

Mom's face stiffened, regret in her eyes. "Syd, honey, I never meant... I never meant to blame you and I should never have... have..."

"Accused me?" I shouted at her. "You practically called me a liar! To my face!"

"Syd," she said. "I did no such thing."

"You didn't believe me," I snapped back. "You never believe me. I'm always guilty, even when I can prove I'm innocent."

"Maybe if you took a little responsibility now and then..." Mom faced me, anger rising once more.

"I am so sick of that word," I shook my head, choking out a bitter laugh. "You have no idea."

"Get used to it," she answered. "It's a grown up thing, and you're almost there."

My rage cooled to a simmer. "This is going nowhere. I have to get to school."

I stormed for the door. Erica made a grab for me but I pushed her off and escaped the kitchen.

Great start to a Wednesday.

***

# Chapter Fourteen

The walk to school went a lot faster than normal, probably because I was so pumped up from the fight with Mom and Erica. I was still a raging bundle by the time I hit the steps. I didn't even for a second think about what might be awaiting me care of Alison and company. In fact, I already decided to stop waiting for them to do to me, but to seek them out instead and get whatever was coming face to face. Much preferable to being stabbed in the back over and over again.

I'm pretty sure my new aggressive nature scared the crap out of the entire school, not just the mean girls. I thought the other students scattered like frightened birds on Monday. Today was a whole new ball game and I was calling the plays.

Each time I encountered one of Alison's girls, instead of the punishment they planned, I had the satisfaction of seeing their sick little plot sputter and fail in their hands, unused, forgotten. I learned one thing very quickly–-these bullies only picked on those who were scared of them. Once the fear was reversed, they ran like rabbits.

Points for me. And the aura driving in front of me like a battering ram. But I think it was more my attitude that did it. I didn't hurt anyone or use my magic to cause havoc. Not only did it go against coven rules, but it went against my own feelings. No, I simply decided enough was enough. On that day, I didn't care if they liked me or not but there was no way I was taking this crap lying down ever again.

Talk about empowering.

By the time I came across Alison in her office, the first floor bathroom, I had on a full head of steam. I pushed through the small crowd hanging around the door, knowing they waited there because of me. And I was right. When I entered the gloomy interior, Alison huddled deep in annoyed conversation with one of her cronies. The others around her seemed nervous. Alison glanced up from her hissing whispers. She didn't even try to be civil.

Not that I cared. Not hardly. Civil was totally out the window.

I stopped in front of her, close enough to see it register in her colored-contact tinted blue eyes I had the nerve to not only confront her on her turf, but face her, fearless.

"I've had enough," I said, not trying to keep my voice down. "Your sick little games end here and now. Leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone."

Her face hardened.

"Says who, Syd? You?" She forced a laugh and cast a look around her for support. I couldn't care less if she had any but I think it really surprised her she was alone. The girls knew a losing battle when they saw one.

"Yeah," I answered. "Me. I'm done putting up with your crap."

"What do you plan to do about it? Cry to the principal?" She desperately tried to reel in some support. I felt some of her weaker followers sway.

"No," I answered very quietly. "But trust me, Alison. You do not ever want to piss me off. Ever."

"Don't threaten me," she snarled. "I own this school and I'll do whatever I want to whoever I want. You won't survive here if I say you won't."

"Try me," I said.

"You don't get it, do you, new girl?" She shook her head, fake concern on her face. "No one likes you. No one wants you here. Until you run home with your tail between your legs, I'm going to make your life at this school a living hell."

There. She actually said it. My whole body sighed, tension released. The stakes were on the table, finally.

I decided to play my trump card. "Brad does."

It kind of bothered me to use him as a weapon but at that point I was willing to access all the advantages I had. I was new to this standing up for myself thing, after all. I figured I'd get better at it eventually.

Besides, it might turn around and blow up in my face.

It didn't.

"Brad is mine!" She shrieked, reaching out with French manicured claws like she wanted to tear my eyes out. "Stay away from him!"

How pathetic. I saw it so clearly in that moment, the desperate need for attention, the total and utter fear she had of being ignored, of not being noticed, not being the center of everything. The terror of loss of control, of being seen as weak or unworthy, of not being liked and accepted sat at the core of what Alison was.

How very sad.

The hard, heavy part of me that hated her and every bully like her softened.

"Wow," I whispered. "I'm really sorry." I meant it.

She froze, floored. "For what?" She snapped.

"For whatever it is that happened to you that made you this way," I answered.

Alison hissed an intake of breath. Her face turned sheet white. I saw the rage rise within her.

"I am lead cheerleader," she snarled at me, "and my boyfriend is the captain of the football team. My parents are so rich they could buy you ten times over. I have everything. I am everything. You feel sorry for me? You are the loser."

My anger drained away. The last of the hate let go in a rush leaving me empty except for pity. I know she saw it in my face. I think that made her madder than anything.

"You have a lot of issues. You should try talking to someone about them before they eat you up, Alison."

I heard laughter from those gathered behind me, but I didn't feel good about it. I knew I was right. She was hurt, hurting so much she needed to lash out at people to make herself feel strong.

And I thought I had problems.

This time, I saw the leeching aura as she tried to draw power from those around her. Not magic, not exactly. Just the normal dominance grab of leader to followers.

Nothing happened and she felt it.

"Get out!" She tried for bitch but barely made it to annoying. "Leave me alone!"

She lost and she knew it. I know everyone else in the room knew it, smelled the blood in the water. For the first time for as long as I could remember, the blood wasn't mine.

I ignored her order and stood there, putting all my sympathy in my face, my eyes, my stance. I even reached out toward her.

"Did you want to talk about it?" I asked her.

I thought her head would explode. I've never seen anyone turn that red and white so quickly. It didn't help most of the room now laughed at her. Her face collapsed in on itself and, before she fled, I saw the tears start to spill over her cheeks.

It took me a minute to register the applause. I ignored it and left the bathroom.

As I took my seat in first period I tried to understand what I was feeling. I was supposed to be the winner, here. At least that was the impression I had from the cheers and air fives I accepted in a daze from my fellow classmates. I was supposed to be happy, proud of my victory, right?

So how come I felt like I was the bully now?

I avoided the attempts of my fellow students to congratulate me and practically ran to my next class so I didn't have to talk to anyone. I hoped word hadn't spread yet, but the same friendly stares, the same thumbs up kept coming from everyone I met.

Why had everything changed? Why did everyone in the school now want to be my friend? Was I really the first person to stand up to Alison Morgan and get away with it?

Wow, these kids needed to get a life.

I avoided or rebuffed every friendly advance that came my way all morning, getting madder and madder about the whole thing. How dare they think they could be my friends? Where were they when I needed support? Forget them and the horse they rode in on. The whole lone ranger Syd thing started to be pretty appealing.

The worst was the speculative look from Quaid. I stopped in the hall, facing him square on, the top of my head barely reaching his chin. He stared back at me, flat and unimpressed, but there was a softening in his face I hadn't seen there before. My demon purred her happiness and reached for him while my anger slapped her back, refusing to give in so easily.

"Well?" I snapped at him.

"Impressive," he said with a healthy dose of sarcasm.

If the bell hadn't rung, I would have hit him.

Lunch was fun. Not. No, I did not want to sit at the popular table. No, I wasn't interested in talking about what happened. No, you cannot buy me lunch. Thanks but no thanks!

I didn't see Alison anywhere, and yes, I looked. Not to be vindictive, seriously. I felt awful about tearing her down in public like that. The bad guys acted that way, not the good guys. I caught Brad's eyes and wished I hadn't. He seemed pretty mad. But was he mad at me? I didn't want to find out.

I sat in the corner of the cafeteria at a busted table no one used because it was so wobbly. It took a bit of balance to use it but I ate at it a few times before and had the hang of it.

I toyed with my sandwich, trying to decide if I could tolerate anything in my stomach right then when a pair of beat-up sneakers came to a halt inside my peripheral vision. I looked up at the smallest high school student I had ever seen.

And yes, as luck would have it, he was a guy.

He held his industrial orange tray in his slightly shaking hands. I noticed each and every fingernail was bitten so close they all bled at one time or another. I watched with appalled fascination as the top of his green Jell-O wobbled with his trembling. His backpack, fully loaded, slipped slowly down his shoulder, pulling his sci-fi T-shirt crooked. He blinked at me through thick glasses, little feet shuffling in those scuffed sneakers.

"Hi," he said, snuffling a little, struggling to keep his tray upright while the backpack that weighed more than he did bent him to the right.

I reached out, not thinking, and took the pack from him before he dropped his tray. I guess he took it as an invitation.

He slipped onto the bench across from me, making the table wobble dangerously. He flashed me a nervous smile as everything settled again.

"Sorry," he said. "Clumsy."

"Syd, nice to meet you," I answered. I don't know if I was really trying to be funny but he thought I was.

His laugh was way too high-pitched for comfort as he wiggled his nose to adjust his glasses, rabbit like.

"Sorry, not what I meant," he offered me his hand. Who did that? "I'm Simon. Nice to meet you too, Syd."

Not that I had anything against Simon, but this had gone far enough. I was the lone wolf, now, no friends, no interest. Goodbye was on my lips when I was surrounded and my table filled up.

I sat there as the veritable crowd of strangers took a seat and made themselves at home.

"Syd," Simon pointed at the girl who sat beside me, "this is Pain. That's her boyfriend, Blood."

Can you say Goth? Black hair, black nail polish, black eyeliner and eye shadow so thick it touched the cheekbones, black lipstick, black clothes, black, black and more black. Yes, on both of them.

I couldn't tell what either of them looked like under all the gloom. For all I knew, they could have been related.

Ick.

Pain bobbed her head slowly, once. Blood dug into his food like it wasn't dead yet.

Nice.

"This is Beth," Simon went on, pointing at the normal-appearing girl next to Pain.

"Hi," Beth said, offering her hand. In a daze, I shook it. "I like your hair."

"Thanks," I breathed. "I like yours too."

She smoothed her fingers over her short brown bob and dimpled. Her smile reached her green eyes. If I could describe her in one word it would be neat. And tidy. Okay, that's two words.

"Thanks."

"And this is Page," Simon said, gesturing with his little white plastic spoon, bits of unchewed Jell-O still clinging to it. I glanced at the beautiful blonde, perfectly dressed and made up, who kept her eyes down.

Why wasn't she with the popular kids? She looked like one of them.

The question must have been all over my face. Simon leaned in and whispered, "Fallen Angel."

Fallen Angel. Popular crowd discard. Wonder what she did to piss Alison off?

Better question was, who were these people and what did they want?

"We heard about what happened," Simon said, pushing his glasses back more firmly on his face. "Heard you ousted Alison in a fair fight."

"Did you mark her?" Pain peered up from under her dyed black hair, chocolate brown eyes almost black too.

"No," I said.

"How come? I would have marked her," Pain turned away, dreamy. She and Blood double fisted across the table.

Weird.

"No offense," I said to Simon who appeared to be the impromptu leader of this little group, "but what exactly is it you want?"

Simon set down his chocolate milk and backhanded away the mustache.

"You beat Alison," he said as if it explained everything.

"So?" My annoyance grew. This day wasn't turning out the way I expected. I was suddenly very tired.

"You then proceeded to reject all of the popular kids." He shrugged.

They all stilled, even Page.

"Again," I said, "so?"

"You don't want to be one of them," Simon said. "That's not why you did it."

"Very good. So what does that have to do with all of you?"

Beth spoke up.

"We thought..."

I looked at her and back to Simon when she faltered.

"You're not like them," Pain said.

"I'll definitely take that as a compliment," I rolled my eyes. "Still doesn't answer my question."

Simon glanced around at the little group before looking back at me.

"We thought... if you didn't want to be like them..."

"Yes?" I wanted him to spit it out already. Man, where was my patience?

"That maybe you wanted to be, you know, like us."

Page's laughter drew all eyes to her. It was subtle, painful laughter, heavy and wrenching, soft even, but from the deepest part of her. She shook with it, clinging to the edge of the table, one arm around her ribs as she laughed so hard she cried. She lifted her head, her mascara running over her perfectly made up face, the bitterness and cynicism clearly stamped on her, the kind of emotion that would age her beyond her years if she let it eat away at her much longer.

"No one wants to be like us," she choked out, still laughing.

I stood up abruptly, pushing away from the table, trying not to get mad but wanting to make an impression.

"Listen," I said to them, "I didn't do what I did for you," I pointed directly at Simon, "or for them," I gestured into the rest of the cafeteria, "or for anyone. I did it because I just wanted to be left alone. Do you get it?" I asked him. "Do you?"

"You don't want to make friends?"

He was so fragile, they all were. The outcasts of a society that wouldn't accept them. They only had each other. And I wondered about that much. Page, I'm sure, would turn on them like a rabid animal at the first chance to be welcomed back into Alison's good graces. And the Goth twins would likely self-destruct on very little notice. I shook my head. The last thing I needed at this point was a pack of misfits hanging off of me, seeking protection I could barely offer myself.

"No, Simon, I'm sorry. I don't. Okay?"

I knew it took a lot for him to approach me, to step up. He took the risk for his little posse, opened the door. I felt bad I slammed it shut on him, on them. But I was tired of people all together.

They were better off without me.

That was when I noticed everyone had fallen deathly silent, not only our table. Everyone.

Everyone that is, except Page. She continued to laugh as I gathered up my things. I fled the stares and judgments poisoning the air of the cafeteria.

***

# Chapter Fifteen

I made it through the rest of the day without having to turn down any more offers of best friendship, so I felt a little more emotionally stable by the time the last bell rang. I was free to escape. I could only guess Alison went home for the rest of the day because she wasn't in any of my usual classes nor at any of her typical haunts during breaks.

Guess she was sick or something.

I knew how she felt.

I tried to talk to Brad after school but missed him. I know he saw me, but he drove off with his buddies before I had a chance to say anything to him. It felt important I know one way or another if he was angry with me.

Part of me was mad at him anyway. He brought this on, after all. And how dare he be angry with me for standing up for myself? Brad could go piss off, if that was the case.

The other part of me, the part that wished things could be different, wanted to know Brad did everything he could to help but his friends wouldn't let him.

Yeah, right. Even I wasn't that clueless.

I dragged my gaze from the retreating SUV and turned to leave, catching Quaid staring at me. That was about to stop and never happen again. I squared my newfound aggressive tendencies and marched up to him.

He smiled at me, really smiled. His chocolate brown eyes smiled too.

It took me by surprise. And knocked the anger out of me.

Still, I had to try.

"Something funny?" I demanded.

Quaid grinned, showing perfect white teeth. His black hair glowed in the sunlight, tall, lean body totally at ease. Wow, he was hot.

"Not sure what you were going for," he said in that velvety deep voice of his, "but at least they're all afraid of you now."

"I wasn't going for that," I said.

"Really?" His lips twisted to the side, eyes still sparkling. I was having trouble concentrating for some reason. Oh right. My stupid demon side was panting over him. That made it very hard to concentrate on despising him. And if I found out he was using magic on me, I had plans to kill him.

No such luck. Just hormones and a randy demon, damn it.

"Really," I said. "In case you hadn't noticed in your little friendship with Alison, I'm not exactly the most popular person around here."

"Yeah," he said. "I got that. And she's not my friend."

"You seemed pretty chummy yesterday," I tried to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He laughed, a deep, warm sound wrapping me in something that had nothing to do with magic.

"We're different that way, Syd," he said. "You try to fit in. I don't."

"Then why the whole Alison thing?"

"I wondered what she had to offer," he said. "Not much."

Wow. That was cold. Still, I agreed with him, sadly enough.

"Least you could have done was stay out of the way," I complained. "You didn't have to help her along."

"Sorry if I gave you that impression," he said.

"So you were using her, is that it?" I'm not normally so skeptical, but the last few days taught me some things.

"You could say that."

"Yeah, right," I challenged him.

"Really." He let the full weight of the truth hang between us. I had to admit he at least believed what he said, even if he was deluding himself.

"At least I'm honest about my motives," he added. "Unlike some."

I didn't take long for me to look away.

"I don't have motives, except being left alone."

"Hm-hm. No revenge, no desire to have them run from you?"

There was the rabbit image. But this whole day was so much easier than any other day I ever experienced since I started high school. Part of me knew he was right. Their fear was my freedom, whether I liked it or not.

"Fine," I said, "if they're scared of me, better than being pushed around." I meant it.

"Don't you sometimes wish we could..." he drifted off, mischief on his face, still smiling. But there was a darkness to him that worried me.

"What?" I said back. "Let loose?"

He laughed, cynical and jaded well beyond anything I had experience with. But with parents like his, I hardly wondered where that attitude came from. I'd be pretty dark too if I had Batsheva Moromond for a mother.

I had to plant that image in my head, didn't I?

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," I admitted. "But I'd never do it."

"Never?" His dark eyes challenged me, still smiling while my demon half pushed me to agree with him.

"Never," I made it a firm no in spite of her. He laughed again.

"Yeah," he almost whispered. "Me neither."

We exchanged a moment that made me uncomfortable, all the more so because he felt so open and raw to me. I didn't want that glimpse inside him or his life. I didn't want to know how troubled he was or that his life sucked more than mine. I almost had the impression he was asking for more than just a conversation. Was he really reaching out?

Damn it. I had my own problems. But my demon wouldn't let me walk away.

"You're doing a good job for someone who says he doesn't want to fit in." Was that resentment showing its filthy head? Probably.

That made him laugh again, as harshly as before. "You could say that, I guess." His dark eyes drifted away from me, expression bored. "I could if I wanted to. And I don't. I'm not sure why it's so important to you." His gaze snapped back to me. "Why take crap they hand you when you're so much better than that?"

It couldn't have been a compliment. "In case you hadn't noticed, that's exactly what I did." It was like he purposely tried to goad me. But my anger had faded, replaced by curiosity of my own tied to wondering about how his attitude could affect the family. I wondered if I should bring it to Mom's attention.

He shrugged, the smirk coming back. "The thing about old habits is they tend to come back." Like he expected me to revert? Never. Or was he talking to me at all?

Quaid didn't look dangerous or like a loose cannon. Mind you, I didn't think I did, either. My demon really liked him but I wasn't trusting her as a good judge of character. Still, maybe it was normal high school angst? If anyone could understand that, surely it was me. Still, I decided to keep a closer eye on Quaid Moromond, just in case.

That made my demon incredibly happy.

Since when did I care? Guess even the suggestion of a threat to the coven brought out protective feelings in me and made me wonder if I really wanted to be cut loose after all. Or did I want my cake and eat it too?

I hated it when I doubted myself. And this was a big one.

I walked away from Quaid and headed home on my own, leaving him to grin after me like he knew something I didn't. I had a feeling regardless of whether he was a danger to the family or not, Quaid was a threat to me and the way I thought about the world. I was starting to understand his presence was going to be more of a challenge to my choices than I first thought, not to mention the sulking my demon did every time I made her leave him behind. Why I would let some strange boy affect my way of thinking, I had no idea, but the way he pushed me to admit the truth to myself pissed me off more and more the further I was from him.

My mental conversation turned so heated I stopped halfway home and turned around to confront him. I pulled myself back to reality almost immediately. Kind of a stupid thing to go charging after him when I had absolutely no idea where he lived.

When I let it drop, reality rushed in. It was Wednesday, and that meant because of my little chat with Quaid I was about to be late for soccer for the very first time ever.

I ran the last block.

I tore through the kitchen and up to my room, dumping everything to change into my uniform. Somehow Mom managed to get the chocolate out of my jersey. Probably magic, but at the time she could have chanted it out with a smoking stick of incense in her underwear and I wouldn't have cared less.

Well, maybe not in her underwear.

I hit the kitchen at a full run and ran into my mom. Before I had a chance to dodge her she stopped me with a hand on my arm. For the first time, I noticed the way she was dressed.

Fear punched me in the stomach so hard I had nothing to say.

Normally, Mom dressed in flowing skirts, blouses, large silver jewelry. She didn't get she looked like the stereotypical witch right down to the delicate pentagram she wore around her neck. I'd tried, Erica tried, I think the whole coven mentioned to her gently at one time or another she could do with a wardrobe change. But nothing influenced Miriam Hayle and her sense of style.

Until now. I groaned at her ensemble of cute blue yoga pants and matching cropped jacket, her white tank top peeking out from behind the shiny sparkle zipper. A ponytail held back her long, wavy black hair. Trendy little sneakers graced her feet. My mother was in sneakers. She couldn't possibly be thinking what I thought she was thinking.

Oh, the horror of it all. My mother was trying to be cool.

"Meira said today is one of your last soccer games," Mom said.

No, please, no. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

"I'd like to come watch you play."

She said it. She said the words that sealed my doom and meant the end of the only thing in my life I had for me and me alone with no interference. How did I tell her I didn't want her there? I knew this was painful for her, too, this effort she made to be someone she wasn't, to be the mom I wished I had instead of the one I got.

Oh, crap.

"Okay," I whispered.

The tension in her eased. "Wonderful," she said. "Let's go."

I followed her out the door, dragging my feet, terrified at the implications of what was about to happen. I shook myself. What was I expecting? It wasn't like she would break out into magic or anything. Looking at her, she screamed normal Mom. What was I so worried about?

She opened the door of her beautiful convertible and climbed in. I hesitated by the door.

"Coming?" She asked. I never got to ride in the Mustang, usually relegated to one of the back seats of our minivan. I climbed in beside her, careful to hold my kit bag carefully in my lap.

"It's only a couple of blocks," I told her.

"Rather arrive in style," she winked at me before putting on a pair of huge shades I had never seen before. I was sure they had a price tag on them only a little while ago.

She spun the car out onto the street and drove very fast to the soccer field. She pulled into an empty spot, one of the only ones left, and climbed out, removing the sunglasses, as if she wasn't sure what to do with them. I understood then how little my mother knew about the outside world. How had she survived for so long? She was a grown woman for goodness sakes. But she was a grown woman destined from birth to lead a powerful coven, schooled privately, unlike me, by other witches, groomed as witches were groomed in her generation, protected by not only the magic but by the large mass of old wealth the Hayle family managed and expanding for centuries.

I knew then what a leap it was for Mom to let me be raised like a normal child, unsheltered from the outside world, exposed to everything she'd been protected from. I instantly gained respect for her. I walked around the car to her to offer what little help I could.

I took the sunglasses from her and slid them on top of her head, into her hair.

"Am I okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, Mom," I answered. "You are."

Together, we walked across the parking lot to the soccer field. I left her by the fence to change into my cleats. Maybe I really believed it. Maybe not. I was about to find out.

Mom clutched the fence with both hands, smiling at me. She waved a little.

I started to relax and get into game mode, fear easing. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

It wasn't until I reached the field and glanced around that I noticed how many faces I recognized in the crowd.

My mom brought the family to watch me play soccer. I didn't know whether to scream and run away or hug her.

I watched as the coven gathered around Mom, chatting and laughing, their combined power leaking out around them like a cloud. Erica and Jared both waved, Jared shooting me a wink and a huge 'go get 'em' smile. The more of them that joined the group, the louder they were. My heart pounded as I watched the normal parents, compelled by instinct, move away until the circle of witches stood isolated.

A sharp word from my coach snapped my attention back to the field.

"Hayle!" Coach Matters growled. "Get in the game!"

I trotted to him and tried to ignore the weight of the family on the other side of the fence.

"Sorry, coach," I said.

His whole talk on game strategy went out the window as my energy sucked away in waves of nausea and dizziness. I felt it happen and couldn't do a thing about it. But why? The coach had to snap at me a couple of times to get me to focus, but no matter what he did, I was lost a few minutes later. It was as if my proximity to the group drew me into their circle and triggered everything bad about my connection to magic. Even my demon seemed disoriented and only then did I understand how much she supported me when I played. Not having her strength to push me on had a huge impact on my game. I couldn't break free of the heavy family influence no matter how hard I tried.

My heart pounded not from the cardio but from pure fear. I couldn't play! How could I with them watching, leeching, leaking power and shoving me over my comfort edge? I gritted my teeth and struggled to get some control back.

I loved soccer. They would not take it away from me.

The worst part was, they didn't even know what they were doing.

Right from the first kick, I was a total mess. I battled desperately to take focus, to block them out. But the moment I thought I was in the game, I lost my concentration again. I don't know how many times Coach Matters yelled at me in that first forty-five minutes, but I think it was the most times my name was spoken cumulatively since I was born.

My skills went out the window with my concentration. I couldn't kick without ending up on my butt in the grass. I couldn't pass without getting it to the opposing team. I was clumsy, distracted and very, very angry by the time the referee blew the whistle for the end of the first half.

I collapsed on the bench, realizing as I did I was alone on my end. The rest of my team huddled as far from me as possible, shooting me dirty looks.

Coach Matters approached and crouched in front of me. His face shone with fury.

"Tell me you're purposely throwing this game," his voice was a low snarl. "Because if you are, at least that would explain what the hell is happening out there."

I trembled, hurting and wanting to die.

"I'm sorry, coach," I whispered. "I can't seem to get it together."

"Then stay on the bench," he snapped. "And stay out of the way."

He stalked off in a huff to have a huddle with the girls. I sat there for a minute, heart pounding, battling tears and the sharp jab of loss. The family watched me with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. Jared, obviously confused about the rules of the game and the fact you need to win to celebrate, gave me a double thumbs up and a grin. Mom tried to support me, but she it was pretty obvious from the pained smile on her face and the murmurs she exchanged with the others that she felt far more worried about what they thought of my crippled abilities.

It affected me more than I expected. I kicked off my cleats, bagged them and fled.

I could hear my mother calling after me, but I didn't care. I ran across the street toward the park, refusing to even consider going home. I ended up in the empty play area. I threw my bag as far away from me as I could and slumped into one of the swings, unable to believe I lost the last thing that made me happy because of the stupid coven.

I hated them so much in that instant I would have gladly turned them in to whatever authorities I could except of course no one believed in witches and would think I was nuts if I told them. I wanted to scream, to throw things, to hurt whoever I could reach as much as I possibly could so that they would realize what they took from me.

My mom picked right then to turn up. Naturally. She took a seat next to me on another swing.

"Honey," she said, concern in her voice, hand reaching out to touch me, "what happened?"

I spun on her so quickly she pulled back with actual fear in her eyes. Good. I wanted her to be afraid.

"You people happened," I hissed at her, all my rage, all my pain in my face, in my power as I released it and pushed it at her so hard she paled. I ignored the battle between disorientation and my demon to fling my fury at her with words. "You and your stupid ideas, your meddling, your need to keep me prisoner in your horrible family." My voice climbed in volume as I rose from the swing and started yelling at her, hands clenching into fists as I spit my fury without reservation. "How dare you ruin my life! How dare you take away the one thing I love because you think you deserve to be a part of it? You never wanted to be a part of it before! Why did you have to now? Why!"

I struggled to pull myself under control, fought to keep from doing something I would always regret, but it was hard, so hard. My demon writhed with anger of her own, shoving aside my natural aversion to her and the magic inside me. Mom may have seen it in me but she wasn't about to make it easy for me, either.

"Syd," Mom said. "We were trying to support you. I thought you said you were a good player. I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of the family."

My control vanished in a blaze of demon rage I barely contained within me, a thin veneer my final barrier. The only thing between her and my magic was my absolute refusal to be her.

"I hate the coven," I snarled at her. "I hate the family," I leaned it to her so she would see and hear the truth, "and I hate you. I can't stand you, you have no idea. You ruined everything and I hate you for it."

It took Mom a moment to pull herself to her feet. She shook, just under control herself. I knew she held her own power back, could feel it firmly pressing against mine, raised in answer to the threat my demon presented.

"You will never speak to me that way again," her voice was low, almost a whisper. "And you will get yourself under control right now. Right NOW."

Her eyes flashed. I felt the demon retreat from her but fought against Mom and her desire to control me, her will, her very spirit. It surprised me how easy it was to get to a stalemate where I held her, my demon spitting and snarling, at a standstill. Was my mother holding back? I didn't think so.

The very thought that I, untrained and unwilling, was already able to block out my powerful mother, shut me down instantly, like water running from a broken glass. My demon hissed spitefully as I stood in front of Mom, shaking with the release, free of both the pressure of my power and the smothering anger I used as a weapon.

"You need to go home," she said, voice steady but low. "We'll talk when I get there."

"We have nothing more to talk about," I said, but this time I felt empty, used up, my stomach ready to empty itself without my consent. The anger vanished, leaving only a little regret.

She looked up, knowing more than my voice changed. We faced off in that park, neither of us making a move, letting the certainty of what we did to each other there settle between us like a curtain.

Neither of us spoke as I retrieved my kit bag and walked away.

***

# Chapter Sixteen

It was almost dark by the time I arrived home. I trudged into the back yard, dragging my bag along behind me. It wasn't until I reached the ward surrounding the house, though, that I felt the presence of my father.

Just lovely. She had to drag my dad into this.

I went immediately to the basement, do not pass go, do not collect a butt whoopin'. I made it down the stairs with my shoulders back, unwilling to let her see me as weak, not caring what either of them thought right then. My mind was already made up. As soon as Uncle Frank and Sunny rose for the night, I was going to ask them to help me get away from the family once and for all.

I walked across the basement into the center of the pentagram as my parents watched. I took my place in the middle of the ancient symbol and stopped there, crossing my arms over my chest, feeling very calm, calmer in fact than I expected to be under the circumstances.

Of course, it helped Dad radiated sympathy and love.

Cheater.

"Hi, Syd," he said.

"Hi, Dad," I said back.

"I think we need to talk." Dad extended one hand to me but I ignored it, considering his other hand held Mom's.

"We do." I refused to look at her.

They exchanged a glance. Mom kissed Dad on the cheek before letting go of him and walking away. She paused next to me.

"No matter what happens," she whispered, "no matter what either of us does or says, Syd, I will always love you."

With that, she left.

I would not cry. The new tough Syd who knew what she was doing and where life was about to take her, sort of, did not cry because her Mommy told her she loved her despite all the horrible things that were said.

No way.

Dad stepped forward, joining me in the pentagram. His power blazed to life along the lines of the symbol. A soft red curtain rose slowly from the floor and over us to form a shimmering, semi-opaque dome. I'd been inside this field before. Surprise, surprise.

"Now we can talk," he said, hands reaching for me. Which really meant, now I could go nuclear and let my Daddy hold me and make everything better.

As much as I resisted, as much as my newfound resolve was now a part of me and I would not give in to my father's usual tactics, I totally caved.

Dad pulled me against his chest and let me sob my eyes out. Which I proceeded to do for quite some time. Long enough, in fact, I felt Uncle Frank and Sunny rise. I ignored them as they quietly left the basement.

Finally, Dad pushed me, easing me away from him. It wasn't until he did so that I felt the hardness of him, the structure of stone that lay under the warmth of him. As much as he looked real, it reminded me he wasn't really here. Sure, his mind was, his power. But his body was a whole plane away while all I had of him stood in front of me, a granite statue just a parody of life.

It was a sobering thought and snapped me out of my need for his comfort.

I'm sure he felt the shift.

His usually glowing red eyes shone blue like mine, like hers, and his skin had faded from red to soft tan. The longer he stayed on our plane, the more human he appeared, something he hadn't passed to Meira, unfortunately. It was pretty obvious from his coloring he crossed the divide well before I reached home. Which meant Mom had tons of time to tell him what happened and encourage him to influence my choices, just like always.

While that would have worked even a few short weeks ago, I hardened my heart against him and my demon snarled in agreement.

"Syd," Dad kissed my forehead before leaning back again. "Honey, what happened?"

"I'm sure she's filled you in," I snapped, wiping at my face with the back of my sleeve. The anger came back and for the first time I didn't care if Dad saw it. I usually hid it from him if I could. But not this time. Maybe not ever again.

"Tell me," he said. "Syd, you're a great soccer player, I know that, I saw the videos you made. What happened?"

I told him everything, not just about the soccer game, but about school and Quaid and Gram, the stuff that fell on me in the last few days. As I told it I became more and more overwhelmed with the weight of all of it, of how miserable I felt. My shoulders slumped from the pressure but I refused to accept his comfort. Still, Dad kept a firm hold on me and never let go, using his presence alone to hold me together, giving me the impression through the flow of his loving magic that he knew and understood exactly what I told him.

Any show of unnatural influence from him, even as a means of helping, would have been completely rejected. At least he really understood something.

I ground to a halt in my story, knowing I was all over the place when I told it, it sounded pathetic and small. I meant to be stronger than that, to prove to him I was fine and more than capable of handling things, that Mom was the real problem. Too bad I wasn't so good at lying.

"Syd," Dad stroked my hair, "you need to talk to your mother."

"Forget it," I snapped. "We're done. I'm done. Don't you get it, Dad? I want out now. Not in two years. Now. Take the power back and let me go."

Dad released me physically but I could tell by his expression I wasn't about to be released magically. He seemed regretful when he caught my eyes, an unspoken apology in his own

"There is something you need to know," he said, his deep voice trying to wrap me in the same old loving warmth he always used on me. To control me, I now felt clearly. Wow. I thought Mom was bad.

"Stop it, Dad." I shook his power free. "I'm done being manipulated."

His shock was clear on his face as his power retreated. "You're right." He looked down, took a step back. When he looked up at me again, his face was grim. "It's time your mother and I started treating you like an adult. Even when you aren't acting like one."

That hurt. And felt a whole lot like a guilt trip. "Really, Dad?"

He flinched from my words and sighed. "I'm finally seeing it." He actually smiled at me.

"Seeing what?" At least he was smiling. Maybe he'd finally really talk to me now.

"What you're mother has been saying your whole life. Stubborn doesn't begin to describe you, cupcake."

That nickname. He was deflecting again. And that meant he didn't want to tell me what he seemed to think I needed to know.

Dad was way more complicated than I ever gave him credit for.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" A fear grew inside me, shoving my anger and frustration out of the way. There was only one thing he could tell me that would make me unhappy. They were never going to let me go. I knew it. I was trapped forever. I fought the panic as he spoke.

"No, cupcake. You're not going to like it."

I tried to hold back the feelings of betrayal until he betrayed me.

I didn't have long to wait.

"Syd," Dad said. "I don't know how to tell you this."

I didn't know Uncle Frank was there until he walked through the dome. Vampires aren't affected by human magic. Or demon for that matter. Go figure.

"Tell her, Harry." Uncle Frank, angry? His pale face pinched tight with it. Since when and why?

Dad and Frank faced each other over me. Their expressions made me afraid. I'd never seen my father angry before. Even in mostly human effigy form, it wasn't pretty. It summoned up images of him in full demon incarnation, something I couldn't bear to think about.

"This has nothing to do with you," Dad said, words clipped short with emotion. "Syd is our daughter, Frank. You need to stay out of it and let us handle it."

Uncle Frank laughed, bitter. "Like you've been handling it, Harry? Like Mir has? I'm surprised things aren't all peachy keen by now the way you handle things."

I stared at Uncle Frank with my mouth open. I never heard him speak to my dad that way before. Or anyone for that matter.

It was pretty obvious from Dad's expression, he had.

"I asked you to go." It wasn't a request. Dad's power swelled, slid around Uncle Frank. I saw it melt away from the vampire magic and dissipate into the walls of the shield around us.

"Are you going to tell her?" Uncle Frank asked without even acknowledging Dad had tried anything. "Because if you aren't, I will."

This time, Dad backed off. His fingers traced my cheek while his power ached with regret.

"I never meant for this to happen," he whispered to me, cupping my face in his hands, blue eyes full of love I hated to doubt but now wondered about. I'd been played far too often. "We didn't know. Please believe me, Syd, we really didn't. And we had no idea you wouldn't want to be like us."

"I want to know, Dad," I said.

"Syd, your power is permanent."

Okay, I hadn't been expecting that.

"What?"

I looked at Dad and back at Uncle Frank.

"It's true, Syd," Frank said. "They didn't want you to know."

"Frank," Dad said his name like a warning. This time his power swelled but instead of reaching for Uncle Frank it tried to wrap around me like a blanket. My demon shoved it free, driving me back a step and out of his influence. Dad looked stricken while Frank shook his head.

"She needs to know everything now," he said before turning back to me. "The power, your power in particular, it won't just go away, Syd, as much as you want it to."

"But," I sputtered, brain not registering what he said, "Mom said... Dad, you said... when I turn eighteen..."

Dad scowled at Uncle Frank, a growl much like the one my demon used escaping him. But when he spoke to me, his voice was gentle. "I'm sorry, Syd. It should be possible. It's been done before. But there is something about you, about your connection to your demon, to our demon, that makes separation impossible."

"How do you know?" My growing panic slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs.

Dad said nothing.

"You've tried already, haven't you?" I gasped for air to speak.

"Yes," Uncle Frank said. "They have. They can push it down, disguise it, put it to sleep, but it'll hide for a while. When it wakes, and it will, you won't be able to control it. Isn't that right, Harry?"

I felt very weak, betrayed by my own body, my own mind. All the while, my demon grumbled and growled inside me.

"Damn you, Frank," Dad said with only sadness behind his words.

"Too late," my uncle said.

"What am I going to do?" I started to shiver and couldn't seem to stop. Uncle Frank reached for me but I avoided his hug as much as I backed away from my father's.

Dad answered me.

"You have to learn to control it, Syd," he said, "if what happened today is any proof. Your mother... Miriam said you almost lost control."

"Because of her." Damn, there was the defense again.

"Maybe this time," he said, keeping his voice soft, reasonable. This time I was paying attention and realized he wasn't using power anymore to influence me. "But what about next time? And the next? What happens if you lose control in a fight with a normal? Someone who can't help you hold the demon back?"

"It won't happen," I shook my head. "It just won't."

Even Uncle Frank was on Dad's side on this one.

"Syd," he said, "as much as I hate they lied to you about this, your dad isn't lying now. You need to figure out a way to control this before it takes you over. I'm amazed they have let you get away with it for as long as you have."

"We didn't know how powerful she was," Dad told him over me. "It was the first time any of us felt the edges of it, she's suppressed it for so long."

"And?" Uncle Frank said.

"She scared her mother," Dad whispered.

Frank stared.

"She has no edges," my father said.

Frank went a little paler, hard for a vampire who hasn't eaten all day.

As for me, I just held myself and shook.

***

# Chapter Seventeen

My stomach growled as I waited for the volleyball to come my way, a slight distraction but not enough to take the edge off of my newfound aggression.

My Thursday was half over and gym class was near the end, too. Volleyball wasn't normally my favorite sport. Except for soccer, I wasn't all that athletic. I also hated the school's excuse for a gym. The big room huddled around us, dank and windowless, lit by buzzing fluorescents that gave me a light headache every time I walked in. It reeked of old sweat, floor polish and a history of nerds being thrashed by bulky jocks with nothing better to do.

I discovered whacking at something repeatedly despite the surroundings appeared to be good for the soul.

At least the state my soul was in.

I tried not to think about the day before and willed it from my memory as I dove for the ball, contacting not only with it but with Suzanne Parker, one of Alison's cronies.

She glared at me like I killed her puppy.

Suck it up, I thought, giving her the blank face back.

"You're dead," she whispered before going back to her place.

Like I was worried. In fact, Team Alison was the very least of my concerns. Hadn't I just found out I was trapped forever with no escape possible?

Suzanne's little threat seemed pathetic compared to that.

I went to bed the night before with my head spinning, refusing to talk to anyone, including Uncle Frank. Might have had something to do with the fact I now knew the coven would never let me go. Worse, if I refused to do anything about my power for much longer they would force me to deal with it. I don't know if I was mad at my uncle for not telling me sooner or angry at him for making Dad tell me the truth, as odd as that sounds. As for Mom... well, I had no intention of sharing anything of importance with her any time soon.

I fled the house that morning with no breakfast, no lunch bag and couldn't care less. Of course, my stomach had other ideas, but it was pretty easy to ignore. All I had to do was start thinking about the mess that was my life and everything else went away.

The hard part was not thinking about it. A little stomach growling and empty threats from a silly girl were welcome right about then.

As I moved positions, I took a hard hit from behind. I ended up on my knees on the floor. I rolled off of them, examining both even though I knew they were roughed up pretty good. I glared up at Suzanne's grinning face and let the anger out into my eyes.

She would have screamed if she could have caught her breath.

I quickly suppressed the power, cursing at myself as the unpleasant coppery taste of the demon faded from my mouth now flooded with saliva from my usual bout of nausea. Uncle Frank was right, after all. I couldn't even keep from flashing magic at a dumb bully whose idea of retaliation was skinning my knees.

Suzanne backed away from me and into the crowd of girls. They all whispered and pointed. I kicked myself harder. I glanced away only to see Quaid staring at me with that dark grin on his face. He bowed his head to me. I shot him a frown and climbed to my feet.

I wasn't sure what I was going to say to Suzanne to diffuse the situation. In fact, I was pretty sure short of wiping the memory there wasn't much I could say. I was still wrapped up in finding an answer when I noticed Mr. Murphy, the gym teacher, waving at me. I glared one last time at Suzanne and crew and jogged on my sore knees across the gym. I didn't know Quaid was right beside me.

I glanced over at him as the balding teacher, more nerd than jock, gave us both the thumb-jerk.

"You two are called to the office," was all he said. He trotted back to the center of the gym in his short-shorts and knee socks, blowing his whistle.

I ran to get changed. It took about a minute. I hit the stairs to the office.

I froze at the top as Erica spotted me. It wasn't the fact it was Erica, exactly. She radiated fear.

My heart started to pound as I heard Quaid jog up the stairs to stop beside me. Erica hurried forward to both of us, trying to smile and failing miserably.

"We need to go," she said, turned and went out the front doors, leaving with us or without us, it seemed.

What happened? Quaid and I exchanged another look. He grinned at me and followed her. I gave myself another second to get my heart under control.

The very fact Erica was driving my mother's Mustang shot fear through me. I froze by the passenger door. Erica shoved her sunglasses up on the bridge of her nose.

"It's not Miriam," she said. "We have to hurry, Syd, please."

Now that I knew my mom was all right, I obeyed, climbing in the front seat, wincing as Quaid slid over the paint to slide into the back. It only occurred to me after Erica peeled out of the parking lot I shouldn't care one way or another if Mom was okay.

"Are you going to fill us in?" I clutched at the door as Erica took a corner hard, feeling the seat belt dig in.

"There's been an accident," she said, voice tense, focused on the road, driving as fast as she could without flipping the car.

"Who?" Quaid leaned forward, sticking his head between the seats.

"Seat belt," Erica said. Quaid leaned back. I heard the snap of the buckle as he obeyed her order. Funny, but I didn't believe Quaid was a follow orders kind of guy. Guess I hadn't pegged him as well as I thought.

"The Vegas," Erica said. "Louisa and Martin. They've both been... injured."

Injured didn't sound right, but I let it go.

"And you need us why?" I held on as she spun into the driveway of a small bungalow. The street outside looked packed with cars. Kind of early in the day for a party.

Erica unbelted and slammed the door of the Mustang before I even caught my breath.

"Come on, you two!" She ran up the driveway in her high-heeled sandals. She disappeared through the front entry.

I climbed out as Quaid vaulted himself over the side of the convertible. I didn't even bother to check for scratches. Wouldn't be my butt on the line if the car was hurt. He was already ahead of me by the time I started to the house.

Something triggered a huge case of the goose bumps. I turned around and came face to face with the big black dog from down the street. He sat on his haunches at the end of the driveway, barely twenty feet from me.

A strange feeling I distantly recognize pinged. My demon reached out and swatted him.

The dog shook his massive head as though he were hit with something. He stood up and trotted off. I watched him go around the back of the house and out of sight. I gave myself a little hug. Stupid dog, what was his problem? At least I found out he didn't like magic. Good to know for next time.

I gathered myself together and went inside. I didn't need to follow the sound of chanting to know the Vegas would be in their basement. I made my way across the tidy modern kitchen smelling of fresh herbs and home cooked meals. I went slowly down the stairs, pushing through the ring of power almost sealed off. I barely made it to the bottom of the steps before the circle closed with me inside. I shuddered as every hair on my body stood up from the charged air.

I stayed in back as much as I could, trying to avoid tripping over the big deep freezer hugging the side of the stairway. I peeked around shoulders and heads and the occasional bunch of drying flowers to try to figure out what happened. I maneuvered enough to be able to see and had to suppress a gasp.

I had known Louisa and Martin Vega since I was a small child. I always liked the cheerful Puerto Rican couple. Neither over five and a half feet, their round, brown faces were always full of smiles, chocolate eyes adoring, at least to me. They looked so much alike I mistook them for brother and sister when I was young. They were a perfect matched set of love and happiness. The best part? Louisa was a phenomenal cook who insisted everything she made had to be heavily sampled to assure the quality. They doted on me when I was little, being childless themselves. Despite my dislike for the coven, they had a special place in my memories.

What I saw in that basement made my heart ache. The middle-aged couple crouched together in a writhing ball of sickly, greenish light, square in the center of their pentagram. I was only guessing, but what I did remember of my basic witchcraft told me it was only that very symbol keeping them alive.

They held each other within the gyrating sphere, flinching over and over. When I saw fresh blood appear on Louisa's smooth, mocha cheek, it made sense. Whatever made up the sphere was not only holding them, it attacked them as well. My heart pounded in my chest, fear for them rising. My attention fell away from them and to Mom as she stepped forward, fueled by the family's magic.

She raised her arms and pushed against the sphere, testing its edges. I felt my power surface and start to drain as she increased the pressure. I glanced around me and saw the signs of strain on the faces of the other members. Here and there the weaker ones started dropping off, sinking to the floor, covered in cold sweat. Still, Mom pushed, her face twisted in concentration. More and more witches fell away, but she refused to quit.

"Miriam!" Batsheva shrieked at her. "You have to stop!"

My mother shook her head.

"Almost," she panted, "there..."

Erica collapsed in front of me. I reached for her in time to ease her to the floor. I caught a glimpse of Quaid, sweat pouring over his crimson face as he struggled.

I realized unlike everyone else, I wasn't feeling the effects of the power drain. Whether she wasn't taking as much from me or I was holding my own, I had no idea. But I knew if someone didn't do something soon, the whole coven would collapse, used up, and the Vegas could possibly die.

I turned back to the writhing couple and saw quite clearly what my mother was doing wrong. The sphere fed off of the collective, siphoning into itself. Why didn't she see it? I considered calling out to her, even took a step forward, but stopped myself at the last second. She was very close to totally committing the coven to the battle. If I broke her concentration now, the effects could be devastating.

Instead, I returned my attention to the ball of light and really looked this time. I had never seen green power before and yet there was so much about it that felt familiar and even ordinary. Yet, I'd only witnessed the amber and blue of the family. It made me wonder about its origins.

It was then I saw the sphere was only stable if the connection to the origin remained intact. That connection trailed off, the end of it already shattered and fading like smoke. Trouble was, that source wasn't necessary any longer. The pool of energy was now feeding on the witches around me. Pouring power into it to break it wasn't helping, it was making things worse. The shunt where the original power focused was the weak link.

I knew what to do. Not thinking or planning or even realizing I was acting, I reached out and brushed the edge of it, my demon magic tearing it open while I absorbed the thin string that remained of the green magic into my own body like it was coming home.

Two very spectacular things happened in that instant.

One, my demon roared to life and tore through the membrane, releasing the Vegas.

And two, the instant collapse sent a huge wave crashing back as all the stolen power returned at once.

Three quarters of those assembled ended up physically propelled into the walls as their magic slammed back into them. The rest ended up collapsing in a near faint from the rush. Mom stood swaying on her feet, face blank with shock. I made it across the room to her side and took her arm, just in time to help support her before she fell.

One shaking hand went to her forehead, pushing her damp black curls back away from her face. She peered up at me, confused, dazed, her fingers brushing my cheek.

"Syd?" She whispered. "What happened?"

I didn't get a chance to speak.

"That untrained child of yours happened," Dominic snapped at her, glaring at me at the same time.

Mom pulled herself straighter and frowned at him.

"What are you talking about?" Mom said.

Dominic pointed at me, glaring around the room, drawing the rest of the coven in. "That demon child of yours almost killed us all, Miriam, including you!"

I felt like he physically slapped me across the face. Of all the ungrateful...! I opened my mouth to snap something back. Mom's hand tightened on my arm. I took the hint.

"Syd did nothing of the sort," she said, getting her balance back as she reabsorbed her power. "I advise you to watch your accusations, Dominic, when it comes to my family."

Batsheva stepped forward, silencing her husband with a glare. The smile she offered Mom was weak.

"You were too deep inside of it, Miriam," Batsheva said, her eyes flickering to me. "You couldn't see what happened. But we all did."

There were a great many nods, some shamefaced, but others angry.

I'm not sure how things would have ended up, ultimately, if the coven had turned against my mother at that moment, with emotions running high already and all that magic crackling around us. Fortunately, we were never to know.

Louisa groaned at my feet. I fell beside her, helping her sit up. Martin was a close second. Mom crouched next to me, supporting him. Louisa looked up at me, her skin flawless and unmarked. She hugged me, sobbing.

I sat there on the floor with her, holding her, rubbing her back, feeling a little weird and embarrassed about comforting a grown woman, but her grip on me was so tight I didn't have much of a choice.

It was Martin who leaned in and kissed my cheek, tears running down his face.

"Thank you," he said.

Everyone fell silent, as floored as we were.

"For what?" I asked. Louisa pulled back, her mocha skin streaked with tears. She gripped my face in her hands and kissed me soundly.

"For saving our lives," she said.

A huge sigh ran through the witches. I saw my mother smiling and felt the warmth of the family embrace me like a hug.

I did my best not to wink at Dominic and Batsheva.

***

# Chapter Eighteen

I was getting tired of the same argument going around the kitchen, especially since it was about me and proceeded as if I wasn't even in the room. Always nice to be ignored.

The Vegas insisted that without my intervention and whatever it was I did, they would not have survived and possibly taken the whole coven and half the neighborhood with them. And yet, Mom was still forced to face the challenge Dominic raised about me.

We may not have been talking to each other right then, but my mother was totally on my side. Which was a huge surprise.

"It's irrelevant," Dominic said for the hundredth time so even his supporters were getting tired of him. "The child is obviously a menace and needs her power restricted."

My mother laughed. And laughed. And laughed some more. The family stared at her after a while, even Erica. Dominic's face turned two more shades of purple.

Mom finally wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

"If you can figure out a way," she said, "to restrict that kind of power, you're a better witch than I am."

He scowled at her. "Exactly my point."

Mom leaned on the counter with her arms crossed over her chest. She finally looked at me, something she hadn't done since the basement, her expression neutral.

"Maybe we should let Syd tell us what happened before we jump to conclusions about her."

I was the center of attention while being the center of attention. Crappy.

"I'm not sure," I said, voice catching. I cleared my throat and spoke up. "I just..." I reached out vaguely, brushing the air with my fingertips, not sure how to explain what I had seen or done.

Dominic snorted and turned away but Batsheva smiled at me so I tried again.

"I saw the coven's power being... stolen? Used? By the other energy. So I... cut off the connection? I'm not explaining this right," I shook my head, frustrated.

"You're doing fine, honey," Mom said.

"That was how it felt," Martin said. "Like we were drawing power from all of you and couldn't stop the drain. Then we felt Syd," he said, "and her demon touched us, broke the link between us and the other."

"It was so sudden," Louisa said, "we didn't have time to brace ourselves."

"Dangerous!" Dominic snapped. "Dangerous and impulsive and untrained!"

"The recoil would have happened anyway," Louisa snapped back. "We felt it building. Miriam," she turned to my mother, earnest, concerned, "whatever happened, whatever corrupted the spell, it never intended to keep the magic contained."

"Are you saying this was an attack?" Mom stood up straighter.

Martin and Louisa shared a glance before both shook their heads.

"We're not sure," Louisa answered. "But whatever happened, if you fed any more of the coven's power into it, none of us would be here to have this conversation."

Not even Dominic had anything to say to that.

"And your original spell?" Mom asked them. "What exactly were you working on?"

"Closing down the garden for the fall," Martin said. "Clean earth energy, nothing more."

"Miriam," Erica said, "if this was an attack..."

"Now, now," Batsheva waved Erica's fear away as if she could banish it with such a simple gesture, "no one said for certain it was. Even the Vegas couldn't tell."

"No one knows it wasn't, either," Erica responded, frowning. She leaned back again. Jared's arms went around her.

"It could be something as simple as left over magic," Batsheva addressed Mom. I'm pretty sure she meant it as a snub to Erica. "We have no idea what kind of old power could be under the ground here."

"Except we check when we move in, Batsheva," Mom said.

"Of course," Batsheva said. The frowning Vegas processed the insult. "But sometimes things are missed. By the best of us."

"We'll look into it," Mom said.

"As for Syd," Batsheva smiled at me but this time I knew she didn't mean it kindly, "I think we can all agree something must be done. Yes, she saved the day, I for one admit it, but we can't have her spreading her abilities about willy-nilly can we?"

An unspoken question hung in my mother's eyes.

I tried to look away but couldn't. How much did that suck?

"Fine," I said. "I'll do what I have to do to control it. I'll take lessons, learn to keep it quiet. But don't ask me to participate anymore. And I still want to do everything I can to get rid of it someday. Okay?"

Mom took a big breath. I know she would have agreed to any terms if only Quaid Moromond had kept his stupid mouth shut.

That would be way too much to ask.

"I think we're past that," Dominic said, still angry. He had one hand around Quaid's arm, pulling his son forward. The smirk on Quaid's face told me he was about to stab me square in the back. The jerk.

"Tell them," Dominic shook Quaid a little. I couldn't believe he took it. Inches taller than his portly father and much stronger, I could tell Quaid still toed the family line. When I caught the flash of rebellion in his eyes despite the grin, I willed him to shut up.

His cynical expression slipped. I think he felt bad about what he planned to do to me. But another shake from his father silenced his will. He shrugged, mostly to free himself from Dominic.

"Syd's been dropping power at school," Quaid said.

A whisper of air ran through the kitchen as the witches collectively drew breath and held it. Everyone stared at me like I killed their favorite rock star.

"Syd?" Mom made my name a question.

I squared my shoulders under the weight of their disapproval, defiant.

"It's true," I said.

The collective breath released. Now the attention focused on my mother.

"Have you hurt anyone?" She was very serious. I felt like telling her to lighten up. Somehow I didn't think it would go over very well. For once, my mouth and my mind stayed in synch.

"Of course not," I said. "My aura's stronger than usual and the normals pick up on it."

Quaid rolled his eyes at me.

"So you didn't call your demon today at school?" Dominic challenged me.

I made a face at Quaid.

"Jerk," I muttered.

He looked away but not before I saw real regret in his eyes. Didn't make up for it, oh no. But at least I knew he had a soul after all.

And now they all stared at me again. Great.

"I was attacked by a girl in gym class," I said. "She pushed me and I skinned my knees."

"So you say." Dominic was becoming a pain in the butt.

I yanked up my jeans over my scabby knees. "Yeah, wanna see?"

They all checked to make sure I told the truth. This was getting to be too much.

"So what did you do?" Mom asked. Her voice was still quiet, not a scream in sight. I wasn't sure how to take that.

"I didn't fight back," I said, "if that's what you're worried about. I never fight back, are you all happy? I take their crap and let them torture me and never once have I used my magic to make my life easier. Not once."

I was getting really pissed off, the urge to hit something rising.

"Syd," Mom said again. "What did you do?"

"I think my eyes changed," I said. "For a second."

"Did she see?" Erica sounded disappointed. They had no idea, seriously.

"Yeah, she saw, there was nothing I could do about it. I'm sick of being pushed around."

I slumped with my hip to the counter, arms crossed over my chest, scowling at the tile floor, my whole body screaming for someone, anyone to get it. I couldn't take it any longer.

I felt Mom's hand as she slid her arm around my shoulders.

"Does this mean we have to move again?" Sandra Crossman, eight months pregnant, slid her hands over her huge belly, worried hazel eyes fixed on my mother. She glanced over at her young husband, James. He placed his own hand over hers.

"I don't know if I can go through another move right now, Miriam," James' expression grew anxious behind his glasses, "not with the baby due..."

Mom held up her free hand. Silence fell.

"No one is moving."

"She flashed power in public!" Dominic was determined to ruin my life. "In front of normals!"

Part of me wondered what was in Mom's eyes that silenced him so fast.

"I highly doubt a change of eye color constitutes a move at this point," Mom told the group. "And since Syd has agreed to work with us to learn to control herself, I see no reason why we can't go back to life as usual. That being said," she turned to me, "Syd, it is now your responsibility to make sure you keep yourself in control at all times."

"I know," I said.

"And if we don't trust her?" Dominic snapped.

Mom turned on him so fast I felt her nails dig in to my shoulder for support.

"You are welcome to sever your ties with the Hayle coven and move on," she said.

That was the end of that.

The kitchen emptied of all but Erica and Jared. I glared at Quaid as he left. He had the nerve to flash me a wave on his way out. I was so going to figure out a punishment for the traitor, involving acute embarrassment and a couple of days in the hospital.

"First thing tomorrow," Mom said to Erica, "we dig into the Vegas' property and see if we can find what triggered today's incident."

Erica agreed while Jared winked at me.

"So Syd," he said, "what would you like me to teach you?"

I stuck my tongue out at him, annoyed at the whole thing, wanting to retreat to the solitude of my room for some peace and quiet.

"I think her dad and I can handle Syd's education," Mom said.

"If you change your mind," Jared grinned, "I'll do my best to whip her into shape."

Hmmm. The possibilities of working with handsome, hot-body Jared actually appealed. And, no, I had no interest in Erica's boyfriend. Not only was he taken, he was 32. Way too old for me. But, still, eye candy for a teacher? I think I was lost in the thought for too long, because Mom and Erica both laughed. Jared wiggled his eyebrows at me.

I hated it when I blushed.

After they left, I stood in the kitchen with my mother and fought the urge to run. She very slowly approached me, but didn't touch me. When she spoke, her voice came soft and hesitant. I tried my best to not take anything she said the wrong way.

"You did very well today," Mom said.

I was shocked. A compliment? From my mother? Where were the flying pigs?

"Thanks," I said.

"You have no idea, do you?" She pushed a stray piece of hair away from my face. "How powerful you are? How much potential... Syd, do you realize you single handedly did what the entire coven couldn't?"

"I just did something different," I said.

She laughed and I saw pride in her eyes. Wow, would wonders never cease.

"Syd, with only raw power and no training, you examined the problem, decided on a course of action no witch would ever consider and saved the day. That's pretty amazing, demon child."

Demon child. She hadn't called me that since I was a little girl. She always used it like it was a term of endearment but I stopped taking it that way a long time ago so she stopped using it.

"I guess," I said.

She very gently took my shoulders in her hands and shook me a little.

"We've said and done a lot of things to each other in the past few days, haven't we? Some hurtful. Some not. Syd, I feel like I'm making a mess of everything with you." She let me go and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. "I want things to be different but I don't know how."

I sat next to her.

"Stop trying so hard," I said, and meant it.

"What?" She didn't get it.

"Mom," I said, struggling to explain, "you try way too hard. The cookies, the battles, the soccer mom clothes, the girly stuff. I'm not any of that. Except maybe the cookies," I said.

She laughed a little and I did too.

"Look," I said, "I know I've spent most of my life blaming you and Dad for what I am but I think I'm finally realizing I'm just as responsible. If I stop fighting so hard and do what I can to control the power, I can do whatever I want, even if that means leaving you."

"If you promise to try," she said, "I will too."

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

"Study, practice, practice some more," she answered. "And for once, trust us."

"I do trust you," I said, while the little voice in my head screamed, "LIAR!!!"

She must have heard it because she made a face.

"Syd, one of the things your father and I love the most about you is your independence. We raised you and your sister to think for yourselves, to make your own decisions, take your own chances. I tried to give you the life I never had the opportunity to experience. Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing, but no matter what, everything we did, I did, was to help you grow and be a better person.

"The trouble is, we've given you so much freedom, you don't trust our judgment anymore, don't think we understand. But we do, Syd," she leaned closer, taking my hands in hers. "And the things we don't get, we want to understand. But you have to let us in so we can. We want to be there for you but we can't if you keep slamming the door on the offer."

I felt crappy, but not guilty, so it was a start.

"Okay, Mom," I said. "From now on I'll trust you and listen to everything you say."

She smiled and kissed me.

"Sure you will, Syd," she laughed. "And I'll never yell at you again."

We grinned at each other. Yeah, right. The lies we tell the ones we love.

***

# Chapter Nineteen

Despite the family's fears and my own reservations, life returned to normal. We ordered pizza for supper and hung out watching reruns of our favorite sitcoms in our pajamas. I felt like the pressure was off. I think the fact I made a decision to do something proactive for myself instead of whining about it all the time settled my mind and gave me some peace.

I didn't get much of a chance to talk to Uncle Frank about the previous night but I knew he already heard about our little agreement from Mom from the thumbs up and grin he gave me before going out with Sunny for the night.

One of those times I was going to ask him where they went.

I was almost scared to go down to the basement with my mother, but I went anyway.

"I'm not sure where to start," Mom admitted, taking a seat in the pentagram. I folded down across from her, chin on my knees.

"That sounds encouraging." Oh snap. But Mom only smiled at me.

"First things first," she said, sitting up so straight I immediately did the same. "It's been quite some time since I had a look inside your power. You've obviously developed past my previous examination." Her irony wasn't lost on me. I think I'd been twelve or so when I let her poke around in my head for the last time.

I held my breath then forced myself to let it out. "Okay," I said. "I'm ready."

Her power reached for me, just a thin thread at first, sliding inside my mind and connecting with my magic. My demon squirmed away from her, as uncomfortable with this as I was, even as the nausea rose in my gut from the wrongness of how it all felt.

"Relax, Syd," Mom's voice reached me. Only then did I realize I'd closed my eyes.

I tried, I really tried. And I knew how hard this was for her. She'd just been through a massive ordeal herself. Her power was soft around the edges as if she was having trouble keeping the thread solid, her weariness an undercurrent inside her magic.

It felt like fingers in my mind as she allowed more power to flow. Mom was very good at this, I knew from experience. She had a great talent for exploring and uncovering problems in other witch's magic. So I trusted that at least if something was wrong, she'd find it.

My demon snarled and complained but finally complied when Mom invaded her space. My mother eased my demon's anger and had her purring in moments, fed by the warmth of the family magic.

I felt Mom glide through all of the facets of my power, from my telekinesis to my powerful telepathy, the energy that controlled my link to fire and the earth magic that grounded me and fed me strength. She even uncovered air power I didn't know I had, and enough water connection that I could probably make waves on a still pond without much effort. But it was my spirit energy that shocked me the most. The white flames burned inside me, surrounding everything.

If you learn to tap into it, she said in my mind, you will never be powerless. It will feed you and keep you whole even in the most terrible circumstance. Was that a touch of envy I felt? Maybe some fear? It couldn't be. Mom was the powerhouse, not me.

When I felt her brush against the edge of my discomfort and found myself squirming away.

Mom finally sighed and retreated, her power leaving love behind as it left me.

"You're perfectly fine," she said. "I can't see anything that would prohibit you from full control of your abilities."

"I'm still having the same feelings," I admitted. "Upset stomach, dizziness. There has to be a reason."

Mom nodded. "I might know what it is. For some reason you and your demon have never fully integrated."

That was news. "What do you mean?" Even my demon was listening.

Mom shrugged. "I can't explain it," she said. "I can only tell you what I felt. Whether because you decided not to accept your magic or from a more natural cause, you aren't able to fully access and control your demon power." She looked deeply troubled. "That is the source of your lack of control and probably the cause of your discomfort when you try to use magic."

Something inside me disagreed but her reasoning seemed logical so I ignored it.

"So now what?" I assumed she had a game plan. Mom smiled, but it was a tired smile and I suddenly felt terrible for putting her through this tonight.

"We'll figure it out," she said. "For now, your priority is to work on building your shields. Controlling the flow of power past them."

Shields. I could do that. I'd been building them my whole life. Was now an expert.

I carefully erected the walls around my mind again while Mom observed, linking each layer of power to the next as I'd been taught as a child. It was the only kind of magic I ever willingly learned and the only kind that didn't trigger my nausea.

By the time I was done, Mom was smiling at me with much more enthusiasm.

I guess that meant I passed.

She assured me we'd have another lesson the next night to work on control just before kissing and hugging me and sending me to bed.

I felt good climbing between the sheets, like I'd finally done something right. My demon's grumbling was fainter now, and I understood I may have known how to build shields but never did so with conscious determination. Focusing on it made them stronger.

Good to know.

Even Sass settled on the comforter with a contented sigh. Oddly for him, he was still fast asleep next to me the when the sun woke me up.

I lay there for a little while, breathing in the peace of the house, comfortable wrapped up in my quilt. I felt rather than heard my sister wake up, realizing it was my power that felt her and Mom as they stirred to face the day. I held very still and let the magic flow around me, not fighting it, for the first time accepting it for what it was, not really sure what changed but more willing than I thought I would be to explore what having that power meant.

Until the sickening feeling came back and I had to pull away. Maybe Mom could figure it out. As for me, I just couldn't catch a break.

Sassafras stretched and studied me with one huge yellow eye.

"Finally caving, are we?"

My walls snapped up and the spare pillow slammed down. Sass leapt from the bed, hissing and spitting. He tore for the door, fluffy tail streaking behind him. He disappeared around the corner a second before the pillow hit the exact spot he had been.

Smart-aleck Persian. But his comment knocked some sense into me. It was going to be harder than that, after all. I was not going out easy, and I was most definitely not going to turn into my mother.

I made it to school with minutes to spare. Funny how being less concerned about your appearance can give you so much extra time in the morning. My locker was still clean, and no attempts were made to trip me up or dump my books on the floor. The looks I received weren't nearly as friendly as they had been on Wednesday after the whole Alison incident, but at least the bullying stopped.

That was all I asked for.

There wasn't even any backlash about the whole gym thing, which surprised me more. No freak comments, no notes with 'weirdo' passed in class. Nothing. Nada.

Wicked.

My whole emotional state was up all day. I had gotten away with it, after all. See ya, bullies. So long, retribution. Ta-ta, torture. And now that I decided to stop fighting my mother... well, maybe things were looking up for good old Syd after all.

One could hope.

Things were going so well, I made a mental note to be assertive right from day one at my next school. I was never going through this again. I did feel a little pang of regret I snubbed the outcasts, though, but not enough to encourage them to give it another try. I avoided Simon's eyes when we met in the hallway. I felt like a coward afterward.

It was for the best. At least, that's what I kept telling myself.

Still, it seemed kind of weird after I thought about it for a while to be rejecting the first people who ever attempted to make friends with me at any school I had ever gone to.

Old habits, I guess.

When the last bell rang, I was still in a reasonably happy mood. So much in fact, I took my time at my locker instead of the typical hurried rush to escape the hell that had become my life. I hung back and waited for the people next to me to finish before trying to get in. It was a lot nicer that way, lots of room. I decided this would be my new end of day routine.

I closed the door and turned, barely keeping myself from running into Brad.

He held out both hands, a sweet smile on his face. We laughed.

"Nice save," I said.

"You too," he replied.

"Thought you were mad at me," I leaned against my locker, feeling comfortable with him. Why had I ever felt intimidated? He was a guy. A really cute guy, but geez, he was just a person.

"Really?" He seemed surprised. "Wow, Syd. Sorry if you had that impression. And here I thought you were mad at me."

"For what?" I asked.

"Not defending you," he said. He blushed.

Oh yeah, right. His smart-ass friends and their dirty mouths. Funny, it didn't seem so important anymore.

"It's okay," I said, just relieved we were cool.

"I was so angry with Alison," he told me. "I found out what she did to you. Because of me. I'm really sorry, Syd."

"Is she okay?" I asked him. "She wasn't in school Wednesday or yesterday." I saw her earlier, though, but she refused to make eye contact and hurried past me in the hall.

"Yeah," he said. "I think she got a, what do you call that, a rude awakening." He grinned at me. "There are a lot of rumors going around about you, Syd, not like I listen or anything." He ran one hand through his glossy hair and I was lost. Okay, hormones still in existence. "I don't know what you said to her that day, but she's been different ever since. Nice to people, you know? Whatever it was, thanks. You've made everyone's lives a lot easier."

I smiled back, feeling better about the whole thing. I did something right, I guess.

"I'm glad she's okay," I said.

"So, I was wondering, maybe we could, you know, go out sometime?" He seemed nervous. I wanted to laugh. Brad Peters was nervous asking me out. Would wonders never cease?

"I'd like that," I answered.

"Great!" He seemed relieved. He paused and looked at me funny. "You're different, too, aren't you? Something's changed."

"Stopped trying to be someone I'm not," I told him. "Does wonders."

"I guess," he said. "So, how about Sunday night? At Johnny's? Six? Or would you rather go to a movie?" He seemed eager to make sure I approved of his plans.

"Johnny's is fine," I said. "Six on Sunday. I'll see you then."

"Okay," he said. "See you, Syd."

Brad started away backwards, waving. He almost tripped and grinned at me before turning around and walking off.

Wow. How cool was that?

I pushed away from my locker, not even trying to stop smiling. I was still smiling, in fact, when I left school and continued to grin like an idiot all the way home.

Not even the smugly smirking Quaid Moromond, watching me from his usual lurk in the halls, could kill my mood.

I arrived at the end of my driveway to find Alison Morgan sitting on my porch. Instant smile killer.

I stared, not caring that I stared. I glanced around but she was alone. I approached. As I came closer, she stood up.

"Hi, Syd," she said.

"Hi," I said.

"Can I talk to you?" She hugged herself. She seemed a lot smaller than I remembered. Tiny really, petite. Why had I been so afraid of her?

"Sure," I said. "Want a cookie?"

She seemed startled. "Thanks."

I walked into the kitchen with her following behind me, wondering if it was okay to turn my back on her or if this was just an act. Nothing sharp landed between my shoulder blades while I fetched the cookie can and two glasses from the cupboard, so I figured I was safe enough. I grabbed the milk from the fridge and sat, popping open the carton before pouring.

Alison dropped into the chair next to me. She took a cookie from the tin. She turned it over and over in her hand for so long it went way past uncomfortable into wretched.

"How did you know?" She blurted. I almost choked on my milk and had to struggle not to cough.

"About what?" I asked when I was able.

"About me," she whispered.

I was still in the dark. "I don't know what you mean."

"You offered to talk to me about it," she said. Her voice was so strained I could feel the pain in it.

Okay, this I hadn't been expecting.

"Um, all right," I said.

Alison set the untouched cookie on the table and folded her hands in her lap. Her fingers fidgeted together as she spoke.

"You're right about me," she said. "That I treat people the way I do because of what my life is like. I'm sorry, by the way," she tried an apologetic look. "Really. I was so mean to you. I've been so mean to everyone, I'm surprised any of them will even talk to me."

Either she was a really great actress, I mean Oscar worthy, or she was seeing the error of her nasty ways and I brought it on. Despite the fact she was my mortal enemy only moments before, at least in my eyes, the new trust I was working on stretched out and enveloped Alison as well.

"Apology accepted," I said.

She almost beamed at me.

"Thanks, Syd," she said, and it seemed like she meant it.

"So, what was it?" I asked. Now that the danger was really past, I couldn't help being curious.

"That made me a bitch?" She laughed with a bitter tone hard to miss.

"Sorry," I said. She shook her head.

"It's okay," she tossed her perfect blonde hair back from her beautiful face. "I know it. Knew it when I was doing it. It seemed... like the only thing I did well, you know?"

"I doubt that's true," I said. "Not often a junior gets elected head of the cheer squad over a senior."

"Only if you humiliate the rest of them into giving you what you want," she said, wincing a little.

"Guess that would do it," I answered.

We both laughed.

"Sometimes I worry... if I don't make people like me..."

"They won't like you at all," I finished for her.

"Yeah," she whispered. A tear traced down her cheek. She wiped at it. I didn't say anything. "I guess I always made people be my friend instead of trying to just be me and see if they wanted to."

"It's never too late," I said.

Her laugh was harsh. "Yeah, right. Like anyone is going to want to hang out with me anymore. They asked me to leave the cheer squad."

Ouch. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," she lifted her chin. "My mom was pretty mad, but only because no daughter of hers can ever be unpopular. My dad patted my head on his way out to another meeting."

"They don't get it," I shook my head.

"Tell me about it." She toyed with the cookie on the table.

"They have this big plan for us from, like, birth," I said, "and if we show even one little bit of individuality, they freak and push harder."

"I didn't know you were living with my parents," she laughed.

"Oh, you have no idea what I live with," I rolled my eyes.

"So how do you do it?" She stared at me now with expectation. I don't know if she sought 'The Answer' or an answer. I felt responsible, but also really proud of her.

"Honestly," I said, "if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have found out how to stop being a sheep. So I should be thanking you."

She made a face. "Come on, Syd," she said. "I tortured you and made the whole school torture you too."

"And pushed me into standing up for myself instead of just taking it like I used to." I meant what I said. Because of Alison Morgan, I started to pull my life together and find out who I really was. And like myself, for a change.

"You're welcome," she grinned, dimples flashing.

"So now what?" I asked her.

"I don't know," Alison admitted. "I don't even know how to act anymore. I'm feeling a little lost, here. But I have to tell you, for some reason I feel a whole lot better now that I'm not juggling a bunch of people all the time. Weird, I thought being alone would be scary, but it's okay."

She seemed so lost, so fragile and delicate. I reached out to her out of pure empathy.

"I'm a little low on friends myself, lately," I said.

Hope lit her eyes. "Seriously? You would be my friend after everything I did?"

I shrugged. "What's the worst that could happen? I figure it only gets better from here. Besides, if you ever backslide, at least I know I can kick your butt."

She laughed and I laughed with her.

"I'll consider myself warned. Syd," she said. "About Brad..."

"He asked me out, Alison." I wanted to be up front.

She seemed relieved and let out a long breath. "Good."

"You're not mad?"

She shook her head. "Are you kidding? I've known Brad since kindergarten. He's more like a brother to me than anything. It was my mother's idea that I date him. Captain of the football team and all that. He's a great guy, Syd," she said. "Don't break his heart, okay?"

"Okay," I said.

Mom chose exactly then to enter the kitchen.

"Syd, honey," she set one hand on my shoulder, smiling at Alison. "Who's your friend?"

As I introduced them I realized Mom eavesdropped on our conversation. She knew exactly who Alison was. Or rather, had been.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Hayle," Alison's cheeks flushed rosy. I figured she knew Mom was in on the whole mess and didn't blame her for blushing. "I have to go, Syd."

"Please, don't run on my behalf," Mom said.

Alison's blush faded as she smiled, the warmth of it lighting her eyes. She could be quite sweet when she wasn't being nasty.

"My mother is expecting me, ma'am," she said. "But maybe I could come back? To study sometime?"

"Yeah, okay."

Alison was at the door when she turned back.

"Thanks, Syd," she said. "See ya."

I turned to my mother as Alison disappeared through the back door. I was met with a huge hug.

"That was a wonderful thing you did for that young woman," Mom said.

Maybe. But I had the feeling I did a great thing for myself, too.

Alison Morgan was going to be my friend. Imagine that.

***

# Chapter Twenty

This was fantastic. All of a sudden I actually had a friend. Me. Or, at least, the beginnings of one. Things were definitely looking up. I practically bounded up the stairs to my room, almost knocking over my sister on the top step.

When she saw me grinning, she smiled back. I hugged her impulsively, my good mood just too much to keep to myself.

Naturally, Meira took full advantage.

"I love you, Syd." She beamed up at me, amber eyes glowing.

"I love you too, Meems."

"No, I really love you." She clasped her little hands in front of her chest and spun in a circle. "Really, really."

How obvious was she? It made me laugh.

"Okay," I said, "what do you want?

"Ice cream!" She bounced on her toes, clapping and giggling.

I hesitated one moment before remembering the coast was clear. Since I didn't have to worry about being picked on anymore, the prospect of visiting the local hangout didn't seem so daunting.

Inside of ten minutes, I settled into a booth across from her while she shivered in delighted anticipation.

"I want every flavor," she said.

Mom would kill me if I brought her home hyped up on sugar, but for some reason her little demon body loved ice cream and I hated to say no. So, I waffled. "We'll see."

As we perused our menu and Meira drooled over her choices, I glanced around, surprised at how many of my classmates went to Johnny's. I suppose I shouldn't have been, especially since it was one of the only places to grab a burger in town. No brand names for Wilding Springs. Johnny's felt like an old-fashioned fifties place with red vinyl and chrome everywhere, down to the fully functional jukebox in the back of the dining room.

Meira finally settled on chocolate, vanilla and bubble gum while I rolled my eyes at her and ordered a hot fudge sundae. The cute twenty-something waitress in her checkered gingham poodle skirt winked at my sister and went off to fetch our order while we settled back to watch the world walk by our window.

As we did, I noticed a familiar face. With some surprise, I watched as Page left her table and came over. She made her way home to the 'in' crowd, it seemed. She already had her cheer uniform back on.

She smiled at me, even shared it with Meira.

"Syd," she said, "you'll never guess what?"

"You're back in," I said.

"Thanks to you." She was almost beside herself with delight. "Now that Alison is out, they let me back on the squad. Isn't that great?"

I tried to be happy for her. "Sure, Page. How's Simon?"

Her face crumbled a bit before her perfect mask came back.

"They'll be fine without me," she said. "Besides, I'm on cheer squad again! It's so worth it."

I tried not to think about Page selling her soul for a set of pompoms and gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, without Alison leading the pack, maybe things really had changed.

"Anyway," she made a face, "I didn't mean to bother you this long. I wanted to say thanks and give you this." She handed me a black and orange card with a pumpkin on it. "It's an invitation. To a Halloween party. You're invited."

She said it like I was special. Whoopee.

"Thanks, Page," I said.

"You have to come," she gushed. "Everyone will be there. Even Brad." She said his name like it was a fishing lure.

Okay, so I took the bait.

"Really?" I said. "When is it?"

"Tomorrow night," she said. "I know, I know, short notice. Sorry. Oh, and costumes only, so come as your favorite... whatever!"

This Page was so different from the one I first met. The old Page lurked dark and bitter. This one was so perky I felt overwhelmed.

"Okay, thanks," I said.

"It's at Suzanne's house, seven o'clock, don't be late. Gotta go, bye, Syd!"

Page practically skipped away. I glanced at the invitation and over at the table. Suzanne smiled at me, pleasant enough. Maybe I scared her into being nice. A costume party, though... I hadn't dressed up for Halloween for years for obvious reasons. When you lived Halloween, who needed to pretend? Still, the chance to see Brad outside of school a whole day before our planned date was almost too much to pass up.

The girls rose and left as a pack, Page waving at me as they exited en masse. I waved back. How surreal. I continued to watch them as they crossed the street. When they passed the stop sign, I saw the dog sitting there, watching me

"What the..." I breathed, frowning.

"Syd," Meira said around her hot fudge sundae.

"Yeah, Meems," I said, still distracted by the sight of the black dog. What was he doing here? What did he want from me? I briefly considered reaching out to him but knew it wasn't in the rules. Still, he was just a dog, wasn't he?

"Are you going to go?" Meira licked some excess chocolate from her spoon, eyes curious.

"Go where, Meems?" I turned away from the dog, confused and disoriented. I needed to tell his owners it wasn't safe to let him run around like that.

She rolled her eyes. "The par-tay." She spun the word out like the point of her ice cream.

Right. I examined the invitation in my hand.

"I haven't decided," I answered. "It's a costume party."

Her little cheeks turned pink from the cold ice cream. "I love costume parties. Can I come?"

I grinned at her. "Sorry, big kids only." I glanced out the window. The dog was gone. Somehow, though, I wasn't feeling any better about it.

Meira made a face, her cheeks getting redder. I stuffed the invitation in my front pocket as I watched her, concern growing to fear.

"No fair," she said, blue eyes flashing amber. "You always get to have more fun than me."

I leaned forward and gripped her hand as two tiny horns peeked out of her black curls. Her skin reverted to her natural red hue.

"Meira," I hissed at her. "Your disguise."

She looked up at me, confused, and down at her hands. She let out a little shriek, her face screwing up in despair. I glanced around. No one noticed yet. There was still time for Meira to get herself under control.

No such luck.

"Syd!" She said. "It won't come back!"

Now we were attracting interest. I had to get her out of there, but I had no idea what to do. All I had were my own shields but when I tried in desperation to wrap them around Meira she just squealed like I hurt her.

I was trying to come up with something else when Quaid appeared beside us.

"Let's go," he hissed, tossing money on the table. He bundled Meira up against him, keeping her shielded from the people in the diner, hurrying her to the door and outside onto the street.

I waved at the waitress, pointed at the money and followed.

Outside, Meira struggled not to cry but was still startlingly herself. One kid, who happened to be walking by, grinned.

"Cool costume," he said.

Meira ran.

"Meira!" I called after her. Before I could follow her, though, Quaid caught my bare arm. He spun me around to face him. I felt a huge jolt of energy exchange, a connection between the two of us taking my breath away and freezing us both. My anger and fear drained away as the connection tightened before easing into something warm and wonderful.

"What the..." I could barely speak. From the light in his dark brown eyes, I knew he was as shocked by the event as I was.

"No idea," he answered, voice soft and a little vulnerable.

All of a sudden he was wide open to me, the deliciousness of his energy pouring over me like a waterfall of yummy. My demon instantly started to purr and soak it up, reaching back with equal enthusiasm. I found myself moving closer to him, hands pressed to his chest, lost in his eyes and the magic that surrounded me.

I knew his pain, then, understood his loneliness and longing for a place to belong. My demon let him in, gave him what he needed without reservation, accepted the lost boy inside him even as his own magic stripped away the judgments I had for myself and the confusion I felt about just being me. I'd never felt anything like it before and didn't want it to end.

I think we may have stood there forever if a passing group of teenagers hadn't broken the connection with their giggling and kissing noises. It was enough of a distraction I was able to snap myself back, pulling against him, feeling a surge in response. My demon tried to fight me even as his magic recoiled in a burst of rejection and hurt. When our power let us go, I stared at him while the pain in his face turned to a dose of protective anger.

Quaid grabbed me again, his hand blocked from my skin by the thin fabric of my T-shirt. I could still feel a subtle vibration passing between us, but ignored it.

"What is your problem?" He snapped at me.

I may have understood him moments before but my worry for my sister was much more important. "What's yours, jerk?" I snarled back. "Let me go, I have to get Meira."

"Didn't see you caring enough to help her get her disguise back up," he said. "Nice job, Syd. Ruin it for everybody." I knew this attack was fed by his vulnerability and the fact he hated I'd gotten in. But I couldn't help myself. Even while my demon begged for more I shoved him away.

"At least I don't tattle to my parents every second," I threw back at him.

"Maybe if you kept yourself under control, I wouldn't have to," he said.

I would have hit him if I thought I had the time. Instead I said a very bad string of words to his face before tearing off down the street after my sister while my demon howled in despair.

While what I told him to go do was physically impossible, I'm pretty sure he got the point.

I tried to forget the strange exchange of power between us, the way he now felt inside me no matter what he did on the outside. I had to focus on Meira. I could figure that crap out later, but at the moment, my sister's run for home alone and in her condition made my heart pound with fear.

I didn't catch her until the end of the driveway. Mom ran from the house by then to meet her. Our mother scooped her up. Meira's little arms latched on like she would never let go. She sobbed, barely able to catch her breath, face streaked with tears, whole body shaking.

I followed them into the house, not knowing what to say, what to do.

Mom turned on me, face furious.

"What happened?" She demanded.

I was not going to be the one to break our little truce. I took a deep breath and kept my voice steady.

"We were at the diner having ice cream," I explained, "and Meira's disguise started to fade. She couldn't get it back in place so we left."

"She's never lost control in her life," Mom said. "Why today?"

"I don't know, Mom, honestly," I answered, as stumped as she was. "It was weird. And the strangest part is she didn't know it was happening."

Meira calmed some. She snuffled against Mom's shoulder.

"Meira, honey," my mom said. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I don't know," she wailed. "I'm scared, Mommy! It was gone and I couldn't get it back!"

"Why didn't you help her?" Mom asked me.

"How?" I said. "Mom, I would have, really, but Meira didn't even know what was going on. What could I do that she couldn't?"

Mom drew a deep breath and started rocking my sister who had quieted.

"You're right, Syd, honey, I'm sorry," Mom said, voice tired. "It's not your fault. Or yours," she said to Meira. "Something is going on and I need to find out what it is."

"What do you mean?" I asked her. She gave me a pointed look that said not in front of your sister.

"I think someone needs a nice hot bath and a great bed time story," she said instead, resting her cheek on Meira's hair.

"Can I sleep with you, Syd?" My sister's huge amber eyes were undeniable. Mom and I exchanged a moment over her mass of curly hair.

"Sure, Meems," I said. "But you'll have to run it by Sass first."

Mom set Meira on her feet and patted her on the bum.

"Run up and find your jammies," Mom said. "I'll be right there to draw your bath."

"'Kay," Meira said. She came to me. I picked her up.

"I'm sorry you didn't get to eat your ice cream," she said.

"Are you kidding?" I rolled my eyes. "Can't stand the stuff."

She leaned in, her lips almost on mine. "That boy thought I was in a Halloween costume," she whispered, fresh tears welling.

"Meems..." I felt so bad for her, knowing how that one innocent statement from an admiring boy could scar her for the rest of her life. "He thought you were cool."

"Really?" She sniffed and pushed at the tears.

"Yup," I said. "He even said so, didn't he?"

She thought it over for a second and smiled at me.

"He liked it," she said.

"What's not to like?" I asked.

Meira hugged me hard. I caught my mother's silent swipe at her own tears.

"Go on," I said, "faster you tub, faster we get a story. Hit it."

Meira tore off for the stairs, repaired, recovered and a happy kid again.

If it were really only that simple, this world would be a much easier place to live in.

"So," I said to Mom as she rose to follow. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Mom paused and turned to me, face creased in worry.

"I wish I knew," she said. "But I don't, Syd. I have no idea. And that scares me. Too many things have been happening for them all to be a coincidence."

"Since there's no such thing..." I trailed off. "I take it there was no evidence at the Vegas'?"

She shook her head.

"You are way too smart for your own good sometimes. Ignorance can be bliss, Syd. But if you really want to know..."

"I do, Mom. If I'm going to be taking responsibility for my power from now on, I think I deserve to be in the loop."

"Fair enough," she said. And laughed. "I've been wanting to include you in coven business for years and you refused. Now that things are getting dangerous, you decide to poke your nose in. I'm glad, Syd."

"Thanks, Mom," I said.

"Story in fifteen," she smiled at me and left the kitchen.

I sat back in my chair and heard the rustle of the paper in my pocket. I pulled out the crumpled invitation and smoothed it out on the tabletop. Seriously, did I need any more trouble? Who knew the real reason Page invited me? Even if her motives were pure, were Suzanne's? Did I want to risk humiliation, torment or worse yet, their attempts to make me one of their—gag—BFF's?

I dismissed the orange and black bit of paper. I climbed to my feet and pulled open the closet door. I tossed it on the trash before going upstairs.

Guess I'd rather hear a bedtime story.

***

# Chapter Twenty One

By the time Mom whisked Meira in and out of the tub, dried off and in her pajamas, more than an hour had passed. Shadows deepened and lengthened, sighing into darkness as night took its turn. It didn't take much convincing to prop my sister up into her own bed. I curled up next to her in her big pink four-poster in her frilly pink room that always made me feel slightly nauseated in daylight. We listened as our mother told us a fairy tale. Even Sassy joined in the fun, finding a comfy place for himself on the satin bedspread between us. Meira blinked slowly, worn out from the earlier excitement. It didn't take long for the rhythmic sound of our mother's voice droning out a story to bring on huge yawns.

Mom folded up the book and bent over Meira, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"Night, sweet one," she said.

"Night, Mommy," Meira answered. Mom gave me a steady gaze full of meaning before leaving the room.

I slid down the bed, almost missing Meira sneaking her hand under her pillow and to her mouth.

"Meems," I said, "tell me you don't have chocolate under there."

Meira grinned, teeth covered. I shivered a little. It reminded me of Gram. What was it about Hayle women and chocolate?

"Meira," I went for the candy and took most of it. "You know not to eat sweets after you brush your teeth."

She made a face at me. Meanwhile, Sassy pawed at her, humming under his breath. She handed the impatient cat a piece. He dove on it, tongue swiping it over and over, contented purring rumbling out of him.

"Fine," I said, "whatever, you two. Enjoy." I went to the door and reached for the light. I turned back, watching them slurp up the last of it.

"Oh, Sass," I called to him.

He continued to lick the chocolate, ignoring me completely.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "When you puke, try not to do it on Meira's bed, okay?"

His huge yellow gaze focused on me.

"I'll be in your room by then," he purred.

Nice.

I walked the hall to my mother's door and knocked.

"Come in," she said.

I eased the door open and found her sitting very still in her wrought iron vanity chair waiting for me. I took a seat on the black satin comforter, shadowed by the canopy of the huge bed, reverting to childhood for a moment as the scent of lilacs embraced me. I collected a small clump of silver cat fur from the silver embroidered runner and rolled it into a ball. Mom was the picture of poise, legs neatly crossed, hands still in her lap. Whenever my mother went into coven leader mode, it made me nervous.

"So?" I said.

"So," she answered.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" No way was I letting her off the hook.

"Nothing Louisa or Martin did caused what happened," Mom told me. I saw a flicker of something in her face most people would miss. But she was my mother, and I knew when she was worried.

"So it was an attack," I said.

"Not necessarily," she rubbed her eyes with one hand. I saw how tired my mother looked. I hadn't exactly been helping the last few days. Sudden guilt and a surge of protectiveness washed over me. This was bigger than my whiny self-absorption. If my family was in danger, I needed to suck it up. Being in constant battle state with Mom wasn't helping either one of us.

Time for change.

"What does that mean?" I asked. When she hesitated, I made a face. "Mom, come on. Be straight with me, please. If we're in danger..."

"I don't know, honey," she said so softly I had to lean forward to hear her. "And it worries me."

Okay, now she had said it. Way worse.

"Can I do anything to help?" I wanted to go to her and put my head in her lap like I used to when I was little so she could stroke my hair and make me feel better. Having the most powerful witch around confused and afraid wasn't comforting at all.

"I don't know, Syd," she said. "Tell me again about what you felt at your grandmother's door."

We spent the next hour dissecting every event I had been involved in. When I mentioned the two times the green tinted magic affected me, she took a moment to have another peek in my head but admitted quickly she couldn't find any trace of it and had no idea what it meant. By the end of her exploration, neither of us had any answers despite the fact I felt like I just wrote a killer final exam. Part of me was pretty sure I failed.

Mom finally sent me off to bed with a hug, a kiss and an "I love you". As I scrunched under my covers in the dark and quiet of my room, I pored over and over the last week, struggling to come up with something that might help Mom figure out what was going on.

In the middle of it, I must have fallen asleep.

***

I dreamed about fire and a desolate place of rock and heat. The sky burned yellow and orange, faint light flickering over the horizon. I walked a long, narrow path at the top of a cliff of dull, black rock, looking down over a chasm so deep there was no bottom in sight. The rift made me very afraid. I didn't know why except whatever waited at the bottom was my deepest fear and greatest hope and I wasn't ready to face either.

I felt someone close by. A demon stood next to me, dressed in a black robe, her ebony hair pooling around her in a curtain of gloss. Her amber eyes flashed fire. I realized with a start she was me, or the demon me. We stared at each other. Her face had no expression. That total blankness terrified me. I reached out for her, wanting to touch her, to make sure she was real.

As I raised my hand, she pushed me.

I stumbled back toward the edge of the chasm, fear driving my heart's pounding so fast I was sure it would burst. I reached for her but she simply watched, still emotionless, as I lost my balance and fell.

and fell and fell and fell

***

And woke up, gasping. I hated falling dreams.

Something close to me growled. Disoriented, still overwhelmed by the dream, I located Sassafras at the bottom of the bed. He hissed and spit at my door, fluffy tail twice its normal size, thrashing and thrashing against the quilt.

"Sass," I whispered. "What is it?"

He turned to face me. His yellow eyes glowed with demon fire.

"I don't know," he snarled, "but something isn't right, Syd. Something isn't right at all."

I climbed out of bed and eased to my bedroom door. I opened it a crack and peered out. The hallway was dark and quiet. Nothing stirred in the house. I jumped a little as Sassy's fat cat body brushed over my leg, his tail hitting me once on his way out. He vanished down the stairs so fast I almost missed the blur of him as he bounded into the darkness.

"Sass!" I hissed. "Where are you?" I went to the top of the stairs. The house was no longer pitch black. It was very close to dawn. The coming sun began to thin the night.

I eased down the steps after Sassafras, listening for him. But the house was quiet. I briefly debated two things, both of which made total sense under the circumstances: wake my mother so she could check it out or go back to bed and hide under the covers. Instead, I kept going into the growing light and followed the hallway to the kitchen.

Sassy was nowhere to be found. I walked past the kitchen to the back door and glanced out.

The black dog stood on the other side of the screen. This time he snarled at me, his huge eyes burning red.

My demon tore through my surprise and took total control. Before I knew it, we hurtled after him. We flew out the back door as he turned tail and ran across the grass, huge feet silent, disappearing around the side of the house. We made it to the corner but he vanished.

Dog gone, my demon went with him, her power draining away as she backed off and returned to hover in my mind, grumbling to herself. The whole thing left me shaking and nauseated and more than a little afraid to be standing out there in the semi-dawn alone with who-knew-what waiting in the shadows. This time, though, I listened to what my demon tried to tell me all along. This was no ordinary dog. Time to tell my mother about it, kicking myself that I'd failed to understand the dog was important enough to bring up in our conversation last night. Frustrated, I stomped my bare foot in the dew dampened grass. I felt something soft under my toes. I glanced down and my heart dropped in fear.

A familiar shape lay crumpled and broken on the wet grass. I collapsed to my knees, terrified. Sassafras! I reached to lift the limp form of my friend, fingers brushing the long, soft hair, tears welling in my eyes at the coldness, the empty feeling of it.

I had to get Mom. She would know what to do. Sass couldn't be dead, he just couldn't!

But as I tried to lift Sass's lifeless body into my arms, the solid form dissolved into a loose pile of fur. I sifted through it, blinking back my tears, confused. There was no Sassafras, no poor dead cat body, only a large pile of silver fur.

I stood up, hands full of damp cat hair, confused and scared. I brushed the clinging stuff from my fingers, wiping them on my pajama pants as I turned and ran back to the house. I went inside, aware only then somehow the door was unlocked.

As I passed through the back entry, I fought a brief dizzy spell. I heard the distant roar of my demon for a heartbeat, like a warning or a challenge while a familiar thread of power tinted green slid into my mind, the feeling so much a part of me I allowed it to spread itself thin before it faded away. My demon suddenly fell silent. I had a shifting feeling, like déjà vu only a lot more intense. I froze on the threshold, shaking my head. Why was I downstairs? I came back to myself when the back door, spring loaded, bumped my back as it eased closed.

The door was unlocked! My heart leapt to my throat. I ran to Gram's room, relieved the wards were all firmly in place. I felt around and touched the sleeping minds of my mother and sister. They were safe, too. Whatever happened, they were fine. But when I tried to find Sassafras, there was nothing there.

My friend was gone and I had no idea where.

Again, why was I downstairs? And why had I gone outside?

I considered going out there alone to check it out but something held me back. Instead, I headed for the stairs and my mother in the growing light of morning, hoping she would be able to help me locate Sass and find out what happened. As I passed the living room, something made me turn and look into the clear dawn of the gently rising sun.

Uncle Frank lay on the carpet below the picture window.

It took me a few seconds to process what I saw. I ran top speed toward him, watching in horror as his body began to smoke. I grabbed his arms and tried to pull him, but his literal dead weight was too heavy for me. I reached out in desperation and found my mother.

_Mom, Uncle Frank!_ I threw an image of what was going on at her as I felt her wake. I went back to pulling on him for all I was worth. I reached for my demon and felt her envelop me as I heard Mom throwing herself down the stairs.

"Mom," I panted, "use your magic!"

She shook her head, also breathless. "Doesn't work on vampires," she grated as she set herself and pulled.

Between the two of us, we managed to haul his body through the living room door and down the hallway to the kitchen. By that point, Uncle Frank's body was smoking heavily. I knew the only thing keeping him from immediately combusting in a ball of fire was the fact he was clothed. Despite my opening fully to my demon, I felt a blocking, a barrier between us making it harder to help Uncle Frank rather than easier. I released her, disgusted, and kept pulling.

Mom stood and wrenched open the basement door. I heaved with one massive jerk and forced him past the threshold and partway over the first step.

In that heartbeat, the sun cleared the horizon. Uncle Frank burst into flames.

Mom threw herself on top of him and pushed so hard the three of us slid and bumped all the way down the stairs, collapsing in a heap on the cold concrete. I was pinned under Uncle Frank, head pounding from a blow I took on the way and unable to offer any help to my mother who beat out the flames rising on his body.

The last of the fire extinguished, Mom collapsed next to me. We shared a moment over the body of Uncle Frank.

"Mom," I whispered. "Will he be okay?"

"I think so," she said. "Thanks to you. Why were you up?"

Panic resurfaced. I managed to get myself free of the heavy vampire body holding me down. "Sassy!" I said, louder.

Mom frowned. "What about him?"

"I don't know, Mom!" I gripped her hand. "I woke up downstairs. The back door was unlocked and Sass... I was worried about Gram, but I don't know why. I felt around for everyone, but Sassy isn't here." I started to cry from the tension of the last five minutes, the fear of losing not only Sass but my Uncle Frank as well.

Mom squeezed my hand, bringing my attention back. Her strength calmed me.

"Tell me everything," she said.

I told her about the dream, about waking up at the back door, although I had never been known to sleepwalk. About the weird feeling of fear and anxiety about Sassy. About finding Uncle Frank and calling her. She listened in silence until I finished.

"Did you unlock the back door?" She asked.

I frowned as I thought about it. Maybe I had? But why would I?

"I don't know," I said, feeling like I missed something, something really important. "Maybe Sassy's outside? Did he want out?"

" No," I shook my head, confused now and a little distracted even as I felt her power stretch out across our property in search of the Persian. "That's not it. I don't know, Mom."

She reached out with her fingertips and brushed my face. I felt her magic slide over and into me. I tried not to fight her. The pounding headache eased. She healed me while she searched. She sat still and silent for a long time. When she dropped her hand at last, the power leaked out of me as she let me go.

"There's nothing there, Syd," she said.

"So I must have been sleepwalking after all," I said even though a part of me shrieked it wasn't right.

Her blue eyes were serious.

"No, honey," she said, very quiet, very still. "There is _nothing there_. No memory, no whisper of why. The only thing I can see is you holding silver fur."

"That's not good," I swallowed hard, tears rising at the thought.

"No," she said. "It isn't. Someone, probably the same someone who left Frank to burn to death, has taken your memory of the event."

"So we _are_ being attacked," I said.

"Our family is under threat," she agreed. "And Syd, if it hadn't been for you, we would most likely all be dead right now."

"Sorry?" I said.

Mom smoothed her hand over Uncle Frank's chest, gazing at him with sisterly concern.

"If Frank was left in the sun," she whispered, "he would have burned this house to the ground."

It was I all could do not to shudder.

***

# Chapter Twenty Two

Neither Mom nor I went back to bed. We examined Uncle Frank's body and discovered most of the damage was to his clothing. We managed to manhandle him back into his cupboard to heal what burns he acquired in his sleep. A quick check of Sunny's cupboard found her safe and soundly sleeping away the day. Since vampires grew weaker and lost consciousness right around the time the sun came up, we could only assume whoever exposed him knew he would be most vulnerable and unable to fight back in the five or so minutes just before dawn.

We took the better part of an hour between the two of us searching for Sassafras, both with our power and physically examining the property. I scoured the back yard but found only a few stray silver hairs by the side of the house he could have left there at any time. Mom called a halt to the search. Her eyes told me what she wouldn't say. Neither of us could feel him anywhere. The only way that would be possible was if either he was too far away, or... I didn't want to think about the 'or'. It was way too final.

I ran up to my room to change, remembering with a start it was Halloween. My family, like most witches, observed Halloween as the rest of the country, as a safe, fun, costumed opportunity to get free stuff from the neighbors. The real holiday, Samhain, was a fire festival, a time of power when we said goodbye to summer. It wasn't for a couple more nights, so it didn't matter to us one way or another what the normals did for kicks. Still, the superstitious kid in me who used to watch horror movies and be afraid of monsters in the closet made the spooky connection, the implications giving me shivers, considering. I let it go as I slipped into a hoody and jeans and hit the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I tried not to stare at my gaunt reflection or the black circles under my eyes. I felt really tired, emotionally and physically, and sat on the edge of the tub for a minute to get my bearings.

I forced myself to go over the night before again, just in case something surfaced I missed in the heat of the moment. I knew a chunk of my memory had gone missing but couldn't get to it. The harder I tried, the madder I became. I finally cut loose my demon and let her have a go, teeth clenched against the roll in my stomach.

I stood on the cliff path. She faced me. She pushed me and I started to fall...

I jerked myself back, shaking my head, face bathed in a cold sweat. No help there. As if I should have been expecting any. No wonder my demon was mad at me. I had suppressed her my whole life.

I went back to brushing when I had my balance back, listening to the distant sound of Mom on the phone downstairs. When I made it back to the kitchen, she was finishing her call, all the while examining a piece of black and orange paper. I groaned inside as I recognized it.

"Thank you, yes," she said into the phone as she held the invitation up to show me, questions in her eyes. "I'll be by as soon as I can, if you could have it ready? I'll see you then." She hung up the phone and offered me the offending slip of gaudy paper.

"Can I ask why I found this in the trash?"

"Because it's garbage," I said, taking it from her. I walked to the closet and tossed it in the can.

"Honey," she said. "You were invited to a party. You're not going to go?"

"You seriously expect me to go to some stupid costume party after everything that's happened?" I shook my head. "Mom, get real. There are way more important things to think about right now, don't you think?"

Mom took my hand and pulled me to her. She hugged me so hard I almost said something but she let me go.

"I want you to go to the party," she whispered.

"Why?" Someone tried to destroy the coven, kill Uncle Frank and us and now Sass was... missing. Why would I want to go to the party?

"Because," she said.

Yeah, great answer.

"I don't have a costume," I muttered under my breath. I was going to lose this argument that wasn't an argument because I was considering doing what she wanted if only to make her feel better.

"I'm sure we can come up with something," she smiled. Her eyes sparkled. "Syd, you've been wanting to fit in for so long. And you have so few chances left to be young and have fun. I'm taking care of things. Don't let this stop you, please. Please."

"Except I hate costume parties," I grumbled.

She laughed. "You are the most contrary child," she said.

I guess I was going.

That was how I found myself spending the day with Mom and Meira, wandering from family house to family house in tow behind my mother, gathering up items for my costume. No store bought Halloween for the Hayles, oh no. A shawl here and a sparkly scarf there, we made the rounds to every single coven member in a couple of hours. Everyone seemed charmed by the idea of my sister and I participating in such a mainstream version of a very serious holiday and most made some kind of contribution. Meira bounced from place to place, winning hugs and kisses from everyone, her excitement so clean and lovely even I was feeling a bit of a lift from it.

I'm sure Mom's ulterior motive was a chance to check in with everyone personally, but she made it a game. We laughed a lot between the three of us over the tacky choices she made.

By the time we were back at the house, we managed to load up on a large amount of stuff. It took the rest of the afternoon to decide what to dress us in. Erica even took part in the fun, although from the serious exchanges she had with Mom, I know she was there more to support my mother than to help us get ready for Halloween.

The only sad part of the day was a heartbreaker. Meira found a feather boa and wrapped it around herself. The soft red feathers were perfect against her crimson skin. She giggled as they tickled her nose.

"Sass will _love_ this," she laughed. "I'm going to go show him."

The tears were heavy and immediate as Mom sat her down and explained Sassafras was gone.

It sort of took the fun out of the whole thing, but it was too late to stop and Mom insisted I still go to the party.

And so at 6:30 exactly, I stood at the end of the curved driveway leading to Suzanne's house, dressed in best coven fashion as a very over-the-top witch.

Second choice had, of course, been a demon, but Meira had dibs on that one.

I made it up the fresh asphalt behind a couple of other kids dressed like the king and queen of hearts. I recognized them from the halls at school. They checked me out, but didn't say hello, so I tried to ignore them. I admired the huge house with its perfect manicured lawn and weedless flowerbeds. We never lived in a beautiful new house. For some reason, probably something to do with power, Mom always chose a home older than dirt. I loved the bright yellow door and tried to imagine it on my house as I trailed along behind the pair of playing cards. I shook my head at the image. Something so cheerful on a house of magic? Not in my mother's lifetime. And, despite the huge Hayle fortune keeping the coven safe, we never showed off our wealth. Suzanne's parents obviously didn't have a problem flaunting what they had with such a massive place.

I walked into the huge, bright entry hung with fake spider webs and wispy ghost shapes. The whole thing was ridiculous in the polished, sunny room, somehow fake and cheap, oddly enough, like someone tried too hard to be scary and cool at the same time.

No surprises there, I guess.

I was met with music and a mass of people dressed up in their best and worst. A group of cheerleaders—how original—gathered in the center of the room around the punch bowl and food trays. I saw Page detach from the crowd and come over to me, smiling brightly. Thick white paint covered her face. There was an artful bullet hole in her forehead. Blood spilled over her jersey and I noticed as I glanced at the rest of the squad they had various wounds splashed in red all over them.

"We're dead cheerleaders," Page giggled. "Isn't that cool?"

I tried to smile.

"Yeah, Page. Wow, cool."

"It was Suzanne's idea," she giggled again. "She is _so_ amazing, not like Alison."

"I guess," I answered. "Big party."

She grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward the table. "Yeah, isn't it awesome? And the best part is, Suzanne's parents aren't even home. Wicked, huh?"

"Yeah, wicked," I said. I seemed to be able to do little more than repeat her last word or two. The party was my first and with everything that happened to me in the past week, it was overwhelming. I dodged and wove in between people over the shiny marble floor while Page simply seemed to glide along without trouble.

We arrived at the buffet. I winced at the bright orange and black tablecloth, the cookies shaped like eyeballs and witch's fingers. Why was Halloween so hideously embarrassing? When I finally tore my eyes away from the culinary horror spread out on the table, I noticed I was surrounded by zombie cheerleaders. For some, it was actually an improvement. Suzanne smiled at me, but it never reached her eyes and I knew I was only there because Page invited me.

"Nice costume, Syd," Suzanne looked me up and down. I was a witch, of course. What else could I be? The zombies giggled.

"You too," I answered, resisting the urge to adjust my huge, floppy hat with dangling spider. Classy in comparison, really. "Very original."

Why she thought it was a compliment I have no idea but for once my smart mouth didn't get me in trouble. The exact opposite, in fact. Suzanne preened.

"Cool, right?" She twirled around, showing off the knife in her back leaving a trail of blood on her jersey and short skirt.

"Yeah," I said. "Cool."

"Punch?" She offered me a glass. I smelled alcohol.

"No thanks," I said. There was no way my first experience with liquor would be with this crowd.

"Suit yourself," she sniffed. "Girls?" Suzanne gathered up her posse and moved off. Page joined them, giving me an apologetic look before leaving.

I stood next to the table of terror, feeling lost and more than a little uncomfortable. Not only was I decked out in finest Miriam Hayle fashion with my sparkly tights and patent leather shoes, but no one would meet my eyes for very long and despite my occasional stabs at striking up a conversation, my awkward attempts to fit in made it painful.

At least I wasn't the only one who looked like their mother dressed them.

Only a half hour in, I convinced myself I was leaving when I heard my name. I turned around and Brad stood there, tipping his black cowboy hat at me and grinning.

"Well, howdy, Miss Syd," he drawled. "Fancy meeting you here."

I laughed and admired his cowboy costume from tight black jeans to black leather vest. He even had on one of those silly string ties and a set of fake six-shooters on his slim hips.

Yippee ki-yay.

"Yeah," I said. "Fancy. Nice boots, Tex."

He showed them off. "My whole family bought a pair last year on a trip," he said. "Never thought I'd get a chance to wear them."

"You look great," I said.

"You too," he winked. "Nice witch. Very classy."

My sparkly, spandex, overly layered and frou-frou costume felt instantly humiliating.

"Thanks," I rolled my eyes, giving in and adjusting my hat out of my face. "Could this be more hideous?"

Brad was about to reply when Suzanne's voice cut through the noise in the room.

"Quiet, everyone!" she said. "Quiet! She's coming!"

The place fell silent, filled with an air of expectation. Brad shrugged his shoulders, as confused as I was.

The door swung open and Alison walked in.

The pounding of my heart had to be audible in the total silence. I knew, just knew, something really horrible was about to happen. I didn't want to witness it, no way.

I wasn't about to be given a choice.

Suzanne swept toward Alison, her face a mask of evil revenge about to be delivered. I left Brad and made my way toward them, wracking my brain for a way to stop the inevitable horror the cheer squad had planned, to rescue my new friend from the punishment she was about to receive.

I was way too late.

"Alison," Suzanne said loudly, so everyone would hear.

"Suzanne," Alison's voice was soft but clear. She saw me heading her way and flashed me a secret, sad little smile. I stopped moving. She _knew_. She had known before she even got to the front door. And she was there anyway, to take it.

My respect for her notched up, big time.

Suzanne starting circling, her zombie girls following suit. It made Alison, dressed in her school colors, look like the sole survivor of a tragic cheerleader accident.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," Suzanne hissed. "Thought you'd be too chicken to take your medicine."

Alison's head went up, shoulders back. "You invited me, Suzanne," she said. "So I came."

"You didn't really think you were welcome to the _party_ ," Suzanne faked shock. "Did you?"

"You told me to come," Alison said.

"To bring back your uniform," Suzanne corrected, in her face so closely I'm sure Alison was having trouble focusing on the other girl's eyes.

"I brought it," Alison said.

"You weren't supposed to be wearing it," Suzanne flicked her hand across Alison's sleeve. "You were supposed to return it so we could burn it."

The cheerleaders snickered while the rest of the party guests made a quiet and rapid retreat as far away from the action as possible without drawing attention. They needn't have worried. No one looked at anyone but the newest fallen angel.

"I guess I misunderstood," Alison said. No one believed her.

"You can't leave with that uniform," Suzanne snarled from between clenched teeth. "I won't allow it."

Alison frowned for the first time. "What are you going to do, Suzanne?" She half-laughed. "Take it off of me?"

I knew then, even if Alison didn't, she made a terrible mistake giving Suzanne that kind of idea.

"As a matter of fact..." Suzanne's voice trailed off as she backed up, a satisfied smirk on her face. She snapped her fingers at one of her girls. The cheerleader stepped forward.

Suzanne examined Alison from top to bottom.

"I think your uniform is missing something."

As if on cue, the other girl threw a glass of red punch at Alison. It soaked through her sweater, dripping down the front of her short skirt, fat crystal drops gathering at the hem to fall in almost slow motion to the growing puddle on the floor at her feet.

I fought off my demon and made a move, but a strong hand held me back. Brad shook his head.

Suzanne went on, oblivious to me.

"It just doesn't suit you anymore, Alison."

Another girl stepped up, taking her place next to the first.

"You wouldn't dare," Alison seemed to recognize she created a very dangerous monster in Suzanne. Her eyes flickered to me. I pulled against Brad. He refused to let me go.

The two girls stepped forward. Each grabbed a handful of Alison's skirt.

"You're not one of us anymore," Suzanne said.

The cheerleaders pulled. The whole room gasped. I saw Alison struggle, try to get away. The crowd screamed, some chanting to get her, some horrified at what they witnessed. It took me a moment to accept I was one of them.

Alison's struggles only made things worse. With great, heavy rending sounds, the material of her skirt tore and gave way, the violence of the assault jerking her almost off of her feet as she was hauled at from every direction. I could see the tears on her face and hear her broken sobs but didn't have the power in that horrible instant to free myself from Brad and help her.

I will always regret it.

Her skirt fell away. She staggered to her knees. I lost sight of her as the cheerleaders surrounded her crumpled form and finished the job, the sound of her sweater ripping apart more appalling than flesh being torn from the bone.

Finally, it was done. The panting pack of vengeance backed away, clutching bits and pieces of the destroyed uniform in their hands. To my horror, I noticed one of them was Page, her beautiful face masked with hideous satisfaction. Alison huddled on the cold tile floor, face streaked in tears, skin red and bruising where the mob pulled on her clothes. She pulled herself to her feet and was left standing there, with only a tiny tank top and a pair of boy shorts covering her.

She straightened, brushing tears from her cheeks, her sobs silenced, and did the most amazing thing I have ever seen anyone do _ever_.

Alison straightened her shoulders and stared Suzanne down.

I pushed forward, freeing myself from Brad, furious every other person in the crowd did nothing to help her, but angrier with myself I let Brad stop me in the first place.

I reached the circle of humiliation in time to offer Alison my huge, sparkly witch shawl. She took it with a gracious smile, back straight, brave face on. Her torn uniform lay scattered around her, parts of it still in the hands of some of the girls who were truly evil standing there in a vicious pack.

I spun on Suzanne, furious. "What the hell is wrong with you people?" Suzanne backed up a step but her nasty expression didn't change.

"Stay out of this, Syd," she snarled.

"Or what?" I closed the distance between us. "You'll do this to me?"

She glared at me. "Maybe," she hissed.

"Try it," I growled back. "I won't stand here and take it."

I turned back to Alison who watched me with a softly hopeful, brittle expression making my heart break. She wrapped the shawl more tightly around herself, gathering it and what was left of her dignity around her. I pushed my way through the crowd, leading her to the door. I jerked it open. She walked though, a thankful expression on her face. She disappeared outside as I turned back. My eyes fell on Brad and I knew he was as hurt as I was about it but just too weak to act.

Fine. I could handle it on my own, thank you very much.

"You people make me sick," I snapped.

My lessons forgotten in my anger, my shields failed and my demon took me literally.

As I slammed the door behind me, I heard the horrific sound of almost a hundred kids being overwhelmed with a violent case of food poisoning.

***

# Chapter Twenty Three

I paused on the front step, horrified at what I did but at the same time unwilling to reverse it. I may not have planned it, but it seemed a fitting punishment for such disgusting people.

Knowing I myself would be punished by the coven, I slumped my way down the driveway to the street, dragging my feet as I headed home.

To my surprise, I stumbled on Alison. She sat on the curb with the borrowed shawl wrapped around her, staring blankly out into the street. I stopped, not sure what to do but unwilling to leave her there alone.

I took a seat next to her, hugging my knees, discarding the hat to one side.

"Thanks," she said.

"My pleasure," I answered. "I just wish..."

"What?" She toyed with the laces of her red stained sneakers, once pristine white.

"That I reached you sooner. Before they... you know."

She hugged the shawl to her. "It's tradition. I was expecting it."

"What?" How horrible was that?

"Well," she said, "not quite that way. But when you are kicked off the squad, you have to give your uniform back. The girls usually make a big deal of it. But I think I'm the first to be publicly stripped."

She gazed off down the street as she spoke. I knew it was because if she looked at me while she said it, her resolve would break and she would burst into tears. How did I know? Because _I_ would have.

I shook my head in disbelief. It made me sick.

"Sorry," I said, "but I still wouldn't have done what you did."

"I know," she said. "Pretty stupid, huh? I thought I could be, you know, tough about it, like I didn't care."

"I think they got that," I said.

She laughed bitterly. "You probably would have destroyed it yourself and left it in her mailbox or something, wouldn't you?"

"Or something," I muttered, thinking far darker thoughts. Like a midnight visit from a scary demon or two for Miss Suzanne and her bitch squad.

"It's okay," Alison said. "I really did deserve it, Syd."

"No one deserves that," I argued. "No one."

"I guess not," she said.

"Would you have done it?" I challenged her.

She blushed but didn't turn away.

Wow.

"The old me," was her answer. "Thanks to you, I've turned over a whole new leaf. My mom hates it," she giggled. "Not that she's around much, but she doesn't know what to do with me now."

"Yeah, I'm kind of going through the same thing with my mom," I said.

"Well, I guess I'll go home." She didn't seem very happy at the prospect. To be honest, neither was I. How was I going to explain this? I watched a couple of little kids decked out as super heroes wander across the street in their costumes. I wondered if Meira was having fun.

"Well, I can't go home yet," I answered.

"I hope I didn't get you into trouble," Alison said.

"Not exactly," I winced a little. "It's just... there'll be the questioning and the meddling and the grilling and after that the third degree, and I'm not in the mood at the moment."

Alison laughed. "Lucky you," she said.

"Are you kidding me?" I asked.

She shook her head and rested her chin on her knees. "I wish," she said so softly I had to lean in to hear her. "There's no one at my house."

In a flash of insight, I knew exactly why Alison was the way she was. I felt a huge rush of regret for her. I struggled my whole life against the enveloping pressure of my family, feeling smothered and overwhelmed they wanted to be the center of my life.

Alison was my opposite. I could barely imagine it.

Two more kids found their way down the street. I had an idea.

"Let's go trick-or-treating," I said.

Alison made a face as she gestured to what was left of her clothes.

"Syd, seriously," she said. "Who am I going as? A stripper?"

We both laughed at that.

"I'm wearing about six layers of stuff here," I said, getting to my feet. "I'm sure we can share."

A sparkle I had never seen before lit her eyes. She stood up, still smiling.

"Let's do it."

We ended up in the bushes in front of Suzanne's house. The giggling commenced immediately. Two scarves made a nice skirt for her while a glittery pink shawl tied up into a nice shirt. Another scarf made a jaunty kerchief. In the end we looked more like a couple of sparkly bag ladies, but the hat was a perfect candy holder and it was good enough for us.

As we emerged, we dodged an ambulance roaring around the corner. It squealed to a halt at Suzanne's driveway before pulling in. I could hear the distant sounds of puking and winced.

Alison frowned at the ambulance.

"What's going on?"

I tried to be nonchalant while my stomach flipped over in sympathy. "Maybe someone was sick from the punch?"

I hurried her away, partly to keep her from seeing what I did and partly so I wouldn't have to witness it myself. My imagination was bad enough.

Man, I wouldn't want that cleaning bill.

Alison and I giggled and strutted our way through the whole neighborhood, ringing doorbells and squealing, "Trick-or-Treat!" like a couple of six-year-olds. I had never in my life had so much fun. I think from the expression on Alison's face she hadn't either.

By the time we hit the last house in full dark, I had my first real friend ever. I was glad things turned out the way they did in the end. Being with Alison, laughing and carrying on like a normal teenager, I managed to forget everything that was happening, had happened, and just be Syd.

As we reached the end of the driveway at the last house on the block, I peered into the overflowing hat at the huge pile of treats.

"Wow," I said. "Meira's going to love this."

Alison rigged a hammock for her treats out of a scarf. It was also way too full and threatened to dump candy on the ground every time she took a step.

"Then here," she offered me her haul. "Give her these too."

I shook my head as she did her best to tie up the bundle and hand it to me.

"No way," I said. "You earned those fair and square."

She smiled at me, open and happy. "I don't need them, Syd. I already had my treats."

I took the scarf, knowing exactly what she meant.

I felt a brush of familiar power. Uncle Frank waited on the corner, leaning against a tree, grinning. I ran to him, relief pouring through me. I hugged him hard, ignoring the stray treats hitting the ground as I juggled the bag, the hat and Uncle Frank.

He hugged me too. When he leaned back, there was unspoken gratitude in his eyes.

"Uncle Frank!" I said. "You're okay!"

He smiled, but his gaze went to Alison. It was only then I remembered we weren't alone.

"Yeah," he whispered, kissing me on the forehead, voice only loud enough for me to hear, "because of you. Thank you, Syd."

"Any time," I whispered back.

I turned to Alison and waved her forward. She joined us, a little shy.

"Alison," I said, "This is Frank Hayle, my uncle. Uncle Frank, Alison Morgan."

Uncle Frank's eyebrows raised but he greeted Alison kindly. I noticed his color was normal, his body warm. He had already eaten, thank goodness, or she would probably have run from him, screaming.

"Nice to meet you, Alison," he said.

"You too," she dimpled.

"I thought you went to a party?" Uncle Frank looked back and forth between us. When his eyes hit mine I knew, _knew_ , he knew what I did. My heart fell.

Crap.

"We decided to go trick or treating," Alison said. "Syd's idea."

"Really," Uncle Frank said. "Looks like a successful night."

I lowered my gaze to my hands full of candy. Alison answered.

"You bet! Way fun, right, Syd?"

"Yeah, way," I said.

"We should probably get you home, Syd," Uncle Frank said. "Your mom will want to hear all about it."

His eyes were unreadable.

"I guess," I said. I turned to Alison. She looked at me funny. I winked at her. Her face softened.

"Did I get you in trouble?" She whispered as she came close enough to hug me goodbye.

"No," I whispered back, "I managed to do that all by myself."

She hugged me hard and let me go.

"I'll get these things back to you," she said.

"No hurry," I answered.

"Thanks, Syd," she said. "For being there for me. For suggesting this," she laughed as she gestured to her costume. "For everything."

Despite what I was about to face at home, knowing I not only helped Alison but made a friend, made everything I did so worth it.

***

# Chapter Twenty Four

I waved at Alison as she walked away before turning back to Uncle Frank. He held out his arm, formally. I shifted the candy haul enough so I could link up with him for the walk home.

That act alone eased some of my concern. If he was really mad at me, and he was never mad at me, he wouldn't be so casual about it. I relaxed and sighed away some of my tension.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm glad you are, too. Did Mom tell you Sassy's missing?"

Frank's eyes scanned the street as we walked. I wondered if it was a vampire thing or if he was being cautious after everything that happened.

"I'm sorry, kiddo. But don't count him out," he said. "He's been around a long time. You never know with Sassafras."

"Yeah," I said, feeling a little better. "For all we know, he could be shielding himself to stay safe, right?"

"Anything is possible," Frank said. "Even the weirdest things. Like, say, a whole houseful of kids getting food poisoning all at the same time. That's weird. Don't you think that's weird, Syd?"

I tried to swallow, my throat dry. "It could happen," I said.

"Yup, you're right," he said. "It could."

Uncle Frank started to snicker. His merriment grew, laughter getting louder and harder until we had to stop because he was clutching his sides and wiping tears from his face, barely able to breathe. I smiled a little at first, tentative. I started to laugh too as the tension of what I did ran out of me, leaving behind the absurd mental image of all those kids puking their guts out all over Suzanne's beautiful house.

Uncle Frank and I laughed together. Finally, eyes sparkling from unshed tears and good humor, he grabbed me and hugged me hard enough I felt his power but wasn't in any danger of being hurt.

"Oh, Syd," he said, mirth still in his voice. "What are we going to do with you?"

I shrugged in his arms, face pressed into his chest. "I'm sorry, Uncle Frank," I said.

He pulled back. "I know you didn't do it on purpose. Did you?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I just..."

"Just?" He turned me and we started walking again.

Now knowing I could safely confess everything, eternally grateful to whoever gave me my Uncle Frank as a confidant, I poured it all out to him, from the bullying, to the confrontation with Alison, right up to everything that happened at Suzanne's. By the time I finished, Uncle Frank was angry, but I knew it wasn't at me.

"Syd," he said, "if you tell your mother I said this, I'll deny it, but good for you."

What? First rule, biggest rule, was never use your powers against normals unless your life was in danger. Was Uncle Frank really congratulating me?

"Don't get me wrong," he went on, "I don't agree with what you did. But, damn it, Syd, I wouldn't have been able put up with it. And I'm glad you stood up for your friend. Despite everything, she seems nice. I think you're a good influence on her."

"Perish the thought," I grinned. "Me, a good influence on anybody."

Uncle Frank laughed again. "Seriously, kiddo. But, you realize what happened was wrong, not because of what you did, but because you did it unconsciously."

"I know," I whispered. "It's been getting stronger, lately. Stuff's been leaking out all over the place."

"You're sixteen," he said. "And only now coming into your power. They've let you off the hook before now because you haven't really manifested anything. But, Syd, they're not going to let you get away with it for much longer."

"I get it, Uncle Frank," I said. "I already told Mom I'd start taking lessons."

"I think it's past that. You need to start studying seriously. Right away. Before someone gets hurt. Including you."

Concern creased his face.

"Grow up and be a big girl," I said. "Suck it up and stop whining about it, right?"

"Yes," he agreed. "As much as I love you and want you to have whatever life you want to live, I think we both know being normal is no longer an option for you."

I wanted to cry. Why me? Just as quickly, though, I shook myself. This was the way things were going to be. Complaining and sulking about it all the time was only going to make things harder for me and everyone around me.

_Get over yourself, Hayle_.

My demon roared happily back.

We reached my driveway. Uncle Frank paused.

"We could keep this from your mother," he said, not meeting my eyes. "I only found out by accident because I went looking for you. She would never have to know."

I admired him standing there, so handsome and boyish, his black hair gleaming, face peaceful and still. I loved him so much at that moment I could have burst from it.

"Thanks, Uncle Frank," I said, "but we both know what I have to do."

A sweet smile broke over his face. "Good for you, kiddo," he said.

He opened the kitchen door for me. I took a deep breath. He winked. I knew no matter what happened in the next few minutes, Uncle Frank had my back.

I entered the dragon's den.

My mom stood at the table waiting for me. She saw Uncle Frank behind me. Whatever was in his face must have warned her because her expression passed from happiness to concern.

I bit the bullet and told her everything.

Mom took it better than I expected. In fact, after she paled and sank into a chair, she was quiet from beginning to end. I'm not sure from her expression if she was more worried there was alcohol at the party, how Alison was treated by the other girls or the fact I used my magic to punish them all for it. I finished by telling her about trick or treating. I held out the candy to show her where I was the last few hours.

She sat there in silence after I finished. I glanced at Uncle Frank who took a seat at the table across from her. His expression remained warm and steady. I took a lot of comfort from the fact Mom didn't burst into a tirade and turned me into something unpleasant.

The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, between us. Tears rose in her eyes. I reached out, feeling crappy. I made her cry despite my decision to not do that to her anymore. I noticed she didn't seem sad, exactly. Her body shook, mouth opened, lips curling upward.

My mom was laughing so hard she couldn't make a sound. She rocked, the tears spilling over to run down her face. She gasped in a breath and started howling out loud. Uncle Frank grinned at her.

"Yeah," he said. "I know. That was my reaction, too."

She turned to him, unable to speak. He started laughing with her. They went on like that for a bit while I tried to figure out what to do.

Mom managed to get a hold of herself. She wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her shirt.

"Mom," I said, feeling a little indignant and embarrassed by what I did. "It's not funny."

"No, honey," she giggled, "it isn't."

"I lost control," I said. "I'm sorry, I really am."

She continued to clean herself up as the occasional snort escaped her.

"I know, Syd," she said around snickers. "I know. And we need to do something about it. You..." She broke off as laughter took her over again, "you can't go around... leaking power." One glance at Uncle Frank and she was off.

I rolled my eyes at the two of them. How could they make so light of what I did? I should be punished for breaking the rules. She should be yelling at me right now. I did the right thing and confessed and she had the nerve to think it was funny?

"I'm going to my room," I grumbled. "Let me know when you're ready to talk."

She waved me off, still in a fit. I stomped out of the kitchen, knowing I should have been relieved to dodge that particular bullet but feeling cheated at the same time.

I made it upstairs and to my room.

"Syd," I heard Meira call. I went to her door and peeked in. She lay tucked in her frilly pink bed, but her eyes were wide open. I could tell she was upset.

I went in and dumped the candy on her bed, spreading it around so she could see the haul.

"Happy Halloween," I said.

She started to cry. I made a hole in the pile of treats and hugged my little sister.

"What's wrong, Meems?" I said, stroking her hair. "Didn't you have fun tonight? Did someone pick on you?"

She shook her head, sniffling. I leaned back enough to see her.

"Then what's up?" I pushed away some of her tears and offered her a small chocolate bar. "Look, your favorite."

She cried harder and clung to me.

"Sassy's favorite!" She wailed.

And then I understood. I was still working on the assumption, because I insisted on it, somehow Sassafras was okay and we would figure out what happened to him. Meira, on the other hand, was not. To her, Sass was gone which meant he was never coming back. And while I had to admit to myself there was a chance it was true, I wasn't going to let my sister suffer if I had anything to do about it.

"We'll save it for him," I said.

"He's gone," she cried, face crumpling.

"We'll find him," I told her.

"But, I can't feel him," she said, so much sorrow in her little face I wanted to cry, too. "I've been trying and trying all night but he's nowhere, Syd."

"I know," I said. "I can't either. But there has to be a reason. Like, maybe he's hiding."

She stopped crying. I wiped her face with the corner of her pretty pink comforter.

"Why would he hide from me?" She asked, losing the desperate grief clinging to her.

"I don't know, Meems," I said. "But if Sassy is hiding, he has a good reason."

"What if he isn't?" She was very frail and fragile laying there, her little body nestled in all that pink frill and froth, so much she was almost lost in it. "What if he's... he's..."

I hugged her again, but the tension had left her. I knew I did my big sister job.

"If, and I stress _if_ he is gone for real," I said, "we'll find out who hurt him and do something about it."

"Yeah," she said. "We will, won't we?"

Anger replaced her sadness. "We will find them, won't we, Syd?"

"You bet," I answered. "But, I still think he's okay. We have to figure out where he is, that's all."

Meira snuggled into her fluffy pillows and managed a smile.

"Thanks," she said. I knew she'd be okay.

"You're welcome," I said. I tucked her in and kissed her forehead before getting up and heading for the door.

"Syd," she whispered.

"Yeah?" I said.

"Thanks for the treats," she said.

I grinned at her and closed her door.

In my own room I collapsed on my bed and cried for my missing friend until my pillow was soaked with tears.

***

# Chapter Twenty Five

I guess the coven had more serious things to worry about than my indiscretion because I slept through the entire night without being hauled from bed to be burned on a pyre for breaking the rules.

They really didn't do that kind of thing anymore, but I worried they might resurrect it just for me.

In fact, when I went downstairs for breakfast, I could feel the house was empty. Aside from a note on the fridge from Mom that instructed me to practice my shields, there was nothing. I had my bowl of cereal in privacy and silence on the porch as I slowly and carefully practiced over and over, so into it by the time I took a bite my crispy bits were soggy. I returned for a fresh bowl and instead used the time to let what happened the day before sink in.

No, I hadn't done anyone permanent damage or anything. Not this time. I shuddered as I considered what my demon may have done if I told them all to drop dead. Not a nice thing to consider. I was pretty sure nothing would have happened, but not positive. Which worried me more than a little. It was time to grow up and take it like a woman. My power was permanent, and I was becoming a danger to myself and others. No matter how much I wanted to shed this life, it didn't want to let me go. I still hated the thought of being trapped, but I knew I had to get my demon under control and keep her there before someone was seriously hurt.

Now that I officially made my decision, I tried to ignore the imaginary sounds of slamming bars and the rattle of chains. Knowing I would have to someday lead all those witches terrified me. A fate worse than death. I crossed my fingers my mother would live forever. A healthy forever, I added to myself as I thought of poor broken Gram.

Amen to that.

I went back inside and put my bowl in the dishwasher. I leaned against the counter, looking out the window. I half expected to feel the weight of a fat cat body wind its way around my legs, searching for food. The sadness returned. I cried enough the night before I didn't feel the need for fresh tears on the subject, but my throat was tight. I had to push myself away from it before it went so far again.

A knock on the front door was a nice distraction. I made my way through the house to answer it.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Brad standing on my front step.

He was pale. I winced, realizing he was caught in the spell with everyone else. A spark of anger surfaced. Served him right for not helping Alison. I was at war with myself as I stood there with the door wide open.

Brad broke the silence.

"I'm sorry, Syd," he said, and the war was over. How could I stay mad at that?

"It's okay," I said. "Alison is all right, by the way."

He shuffled his feet. "Yeah, I know, I've already been to her house."

I thought better of him for checking on her.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

Probably not the best idea. I stepped outside and closed the door.

"Rather go for a walk?" I asked. Not that I didn't want Brad in my house, but with all the weird stuff going on lately I figured it was better to keep him away from my family who could arrive home at any time.

"Sure," he agreed.

We headed down the street at a stroll. He didn't look like he was up for much more. A block from my place, I took a seat on a bench. He sat next to me, squinting into the sun.

"You don't look very good," I said. "Are you okay?"

His embarrassment was obvious. "Yeah, only... after you left, everybody got... sick. Really sick. I think it was the punch or something. It was pretty awful."

I had to know, like digging at a scab even though it hurt to get rid of it.

"Really?" I said, trying to be sympathetic while hiding my own embarrassment. "Everybody?"

"Yeah, wow, you're lucky you left when you did. I've never seen anything like it, kids puking everywhere. The house... some kids ended up in the front yard and the neighbors called 9-1-1. The ambulance came and Suzanne's parents were called. They were pretty mad at her, but she was so sick at the time I don't think she cared."

Part of me thrilled at the revenge but the rest of me wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

"Sounds awful," I said.

"You have no idea," he said. "They didn't know she was having a party and when they found the punch... they called all the parents. Most of the kids are grounded and the football team's been benched for two weeks."

Oops. He didn't seem upset about it, though, so I tried not to beat myself up.

"Sorry," I said.

"It wasn't your fault," he answered. "I'm glad you and Alison are okay."

He was just so sweet I wasn't sure if he was real. I wanted to tell him it _was_ my fault but knew no matter how I felt about it, confessing I was a witch was a terrible idea all the way around.

Besides, in a way, I was getting my punishment after all, worse than I could have ever gotten from my mother.

"Anyway," he said, "I wanted to apologize for yesterday."

"It wasn't your fault, either," I said.

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "I didn't do anything to stop it, Syd. That makes me as guilty as the ones who did it."

I didn't want to tell him I agreed with him. Too cruel.

"Hopefully no one else will ever have to go through that," I said.

"Don't hold your breath," he said. I saw, for the first time, a tightness in his face, a loss of innocence. Not that I'm the most worldly, mind you, but Brad was so naive when I first met him. I was sad that changed.

"I won't," I answered.

"I didn't realize," he said softly, "what they were like. Really like. The whole bunch of them. Even the guys knew, Syd, what Suzanne and the squad had planned."

"But you didn't?" I asked, kind of relieved to hear it.

"No way," he said. "I would never have let them if I had known."

He was so earnest, I believed him.

"That's why they didn't tell you," I said, touching his arm. "They knew you would stop it or warn her."

"I guess," he said. "I had no idea they were such jerks."

"It's high school," I shrugged. "Eat or be eaten."

I might as well have hit him.

"It shouldn't be that way," he said.

"Tell _them_ ," I answered. We both knew exactly who I meant.

"Well," he said, straightening up a little, "I'm not doing it anymore."

"Sorry?" I said.

He squared his shoulders. "I'm quitting the football team. And all of them, too."

The very fact Brad Peters dumped the pops blew my mind.

"But, you're a Senior, captain of the team. Aren't you up for a football scholarship or something?"

"Yeah," he said. "I told my dad. He wasn't very happy. But I don't want..."

"What?" He couldn't throw away a chance at a great school over this. Talk about a sudden awakening. Part of me wanted to put him back to sleep until high school was all over.

"I don't want to turn into them," he whispered.

Was my internal conflict spilling over onto other people or something? This was the second person in two days who came to me— _me_ —for life-altering advice. Talk about overwhelming.

"Brad," I said firmly, wanting no misunderstanding between us, "you will never, can never, be one of them. Ever. End of discussion."

"Really?" He seemed like he wanted to believe.

"Never ever," I told him. "Trust me, I have been to more junior and senior highs in the last five years than I care to admit and I have never met anyone like you who has _ever_ turned into one of them."

Couldn't say it any clearer than that. I was pretty sure it worked because his whole body relaxed. He leaned back on the bench.

"Bet you're going to be a psychiatrist when you get older," he said.

If he only knew.

"Guess we'll wait and see," I mumbled. "Please don't give up your chance for a scholarship."

He thought about it. "Maybe you're right," he said. "Maybe I should play, to spite them."

"They aren't worth it," I said. "And from what I hear, college is way different."

"Thanks, Syd," he said.

We stood up and continued walking, more because I felt restless all of a sudden than because I wanted to.

"I was hoping we could see more of each other," Brad said.

I hadn't prepared for _this_ talk, but he wasn't about to give me the chance to change the subject. He grinned at me like he knew I was uncomfortable, his soft blonde hair falling over one eye.

"I'm not pushing you," he said, "and I don't want to freak you out. There is something about you, Syd." He stopped and faced me, transparent green eyes seeing only me.

I stared into those eyes, drowning in the color, and I knew I had never seen anything in my life quite so amazing. I could feel the two of us getting closer, drawing together. I was unable and unwilling to fight it. He stood so close to me I could feel his breath on my cheek. I knew in that instant if he kissed me, really kissed me, I would pass out at his feet.

Saved by the crazy lady. Gram's cackle snapped my head around. I had to dive for her as she hustled past me, hands outstretched, making a beeline for a parked car. I could feel her on the edge of her aura. I knew if I didn't act right then, Brad and I would not only be witness to a light show but would probably end up in the hospital, or worse, if I didn't manage to stop her.

"Gram!" I grabbed her and hauled her around, panicking as I realized I had neither of her vices on me as enticement. I pushed against her spell as hard as I could. My demon obliged. I pushed so hard, in fact, Gram staggered and slipped from my grasp, landing hard on her butt on the sidewalk. I was surprised this time the nausea and dizziness wasn't so bad.

Maybe I was getting the hang of it after all.

Gram glared up at me as if she was seeing me for the first time.

"Thief!" She shrieked at the top of her lungs. "Give it back! It's mine!"

That old line again. I felt her power build and gritted my teeth. Viciousness radiated from her in waves, and I knew a blast of power had to be a short breath behind. I saw motion next to me. Damn. Brad was still there. Unable to do anything about it, I glared at my grandmother and shoved her magic down, smothering the air energy with as much earth as I could pile on her, acting on pure instinct. I took a moment to make sure my eyes were normal before I glanced at Brad. He stared, mouth open.

"My grandmother," I offered as way of an apology. "I'm sorry, I have to get her home."

Thank goodness nothing we did so far magic-wise was visible to normals. I would be forced to have someone in the coven wipe his memory and I worried they might take too much. I wanted him to remember he was going to kiss me. Weird thing to think about while trying to keep my grandmother from totaling half the block, but hey, I was a teenager.

Brad watched Gram as she struggled, snarling and spitting from her sprawl on the ground. She made heavy grunting noises, her face twisting in frustration.

"Is she okay?" He asked.

"No," I said. "She's nuts. I really have to go."

I started pulling on Gram, hauling her to her feet, using my demon to help. She clutched at me, eyes blazing. I considered knocking her out, but Brad was still there. He was such a gentleman, I knew he would frown on that sort of thing. I had a flash of his lips and had to fight my way back.

Focus, Syd, focus.

Gram turned on me, hissing.

"Can I help?" Brad frowned, clearly worried.

"Thanks but no thanks," I said, tugging her toward home, winning a little. Thank goodness we were only a block away. "See you!"

He waved and turned to leave, glancing back once or twice. When he was far enough away, I released my demon and let Gram feel my full power even though I had no idea what else to do with it.

"Okay, Gram," I growled. "We can do this easy or hard. You pick."

She pouted like a petulant child caught doing something naughty. "You have it and I want it back." Her lower lip quivered. I felt like leaving her there.

"Look, I don't have it, whatever it is, and I never have."

Tears welled in those pale blues, but I knew better than to feel empathy. She could turn on me like a wild cat in a flash.

"Can we please go home now, or do I have to make you?"

"I don't want to go back there," she pouted.

"Tough," I answered. "We are going back, end of discussion. How do you keep getting out?" The last was more a question for myself as I steered her up the street.

I didn't even bother to try to listen in on her one-sided muttered conversation as we walked the rest of the way home.

I checked around to make sure there were no witnesses. A huge, black dog watched me from a nearby driveway. There was something familiar about him, but I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't like he really counted or anything. Besides, he seemed friendly enough, tongue lolling out as if he was laughing at us.

Stupid dog.

***

# Chapter Twenty Six

The very fact I managed to get Gram in the driveway amazed even me. I should have been alarmed by the number of cars outside our house but I was so focused on getting my grandmother safely inside before she did something we'd all regret, it wasn't until I had her physically in the kitchen that I saw there were more people in my house than there were when I left.

At least a dozen coven members had a mixture of surprise and relief on their faces. Mom rushed forward, hugging us both at the same time. We both fought her, but for very different reasons. Gram managed to extract herself and stood there, weaving and humming, lost to all of us. Mom hugged me harder. I stopped struggling.

"Oh, Syd," she whispered.

"It's okay, Mom," I whispered back.

She gave me one more squeeze and let me go. Mom went to Gram who picked her nose, a huge, happy grin on her face.

"Mother," Mom said, pulling her hands down. "How do you keep escaping?"

Gram ignored her, making smacking noises with her lips, eyes crossing and uncrossing.

My mother turned to the gathered witches.

"I'm so sorry, everyone," she said to them, making it very clear to me she had no idea Gram had even been missing. "Please forgive the interruption."

Somehow, I had the feeling they weren't there because she invited them. There was a strange feel to the whole thing raising the small hairs on my arms. I resisted rubbing them to make it stop.

Erica pasted on a smile. "Well, this show is over then, and no harm done."

A murmur ran through the others. None of them seemed certain. I knew every face but wondered as they stared at my grandmother, if I really knew them at all.

Trust my mother to know the perfect thing to do.

"Not this time," she said softy to Erica, "but we do need to get to the bottom of this."

The answering murmur was positive. I could feel their energy reaching for Mom. I shuddered, hoping I would never have to try to play her role. I knew I would fail.

"I'm here because the others thought we should come to you." Celeste Oberman, one of the stronger witches and always a leveling presence, shook out her long, brown hair, a nervous habit. "It's clear there is something going on that is out of the ordinary, but your claim that we are under some sort of an attack seems outlandish."

I wanted to cut in that Uncle Frank's near demise wasn't exactly his own idea but held back. I knew I wouldn't be helping Mom's case any.

"I'm not comfortable leaving anything to chance," Mom said. "If there is something going on," and we both knew there was even if Celeste and the other witches felt like sticking their stupid heads in the sand, "I want to get to the bottom of it before it turns into something dangerous."

Too late. Meanwhile I marveled at Mom's skill. She was so good at handling them. Aside from Celeste, the others did seem to be taking what Mom told them seriously.

"Fine," Celeste said, glaring down her nose at me before turning her attention back to Mom. "What would you like to do?"

"We'll call the twins," Mom said.

I shivered. The twins. Okay, I knew it was serious, but nobody called the twins unless it was a last resort. They just didn't play well with others.

"If something is going on," Mom said, "they will be able to tell us. If not, I for one will be the first to put these odd occurrences behind me."

"I'll call them," Celeste said, going for the phone.

"No," Mom said, again very softly. The control in her voice made everyone stop. "I'll call them myself."

So there, I silently snapped at Celeste. Her cool hazel eyes flashed at me but she backed off immediately. I wondered at the fact she even overstepped herself at all. I recognized every high-ranking witch in our coven, with the exception of the Moromonds, was there. Every one of them near in power to Erica, if not my mother. No one was close in strength to my mother but me.

What was going on?

Meanwhile, Erica guided Gram out of the room. I could hear Mom's voice murmuring on the phone as she carried the portable out into the hallway for privacy. The air in the kitchen hung thick, oppressive. There was a tension to it, a discomfort I never felt with the others before. No one looked at anyone, no eyes meeting, and no one would look at me. Something was definitely going on. I knew whatever it was, it involved me or my family and I wasn't going to like it one bit.

Mom came back into the kitchen before I did something drastic to break the tension and make someone, anyone, talk to me. I felt her power reach out through the room, diffusing our frustration and anxiety, soft and comforting, supportive and strong. The tension eased before dissipating altogether.

Didn't want her job. Ever.

Mom made coffee and invited everyone to the living room. I helped as much as I could. I tried my best to get my mother alone to grill her about what was going on, but it never happened. I know she did it on purpose. By the time they settled with coffee and cookies, I was sick of the calming energy she radiated and shook free of it.

Mom's expression begged me to behave.

_Syd_ , I heard her voice brush through my mind. _Please_...

_Fine_ , I snapped back. _But I want answers._

Her magic left me with the impression I would find out everything soon enough.

The assembled witches started chatting among themselves. I began to think I was worried about nothing after all when the doorbell rang.

Everyone froze. All eyes turned to my mother. Mom rose gracefully from her seat, a reassuring smile on her face.

"That must be the twins," she said. "Please excuse me."

Silence reigned until she left the room. As soon as she did the chatter started again. This time there was an edge to it. We all knew how deadly serious things were with the threat not just to me, like they cared about me. More importantly, the fact that whoever was behind the attacks seemed to keep making it past the family wards and into our house. No one felt the need to hide it any longer.

Mom reappeared at the door with guests.

"Everyone, make our sisters welcome."

I felt my heart stop. It's not that the twins were overly impressive to look at or anything. They were identical in every way, right around five foot four, with ordinary brown hair and brown eyes. They dressed as average, normal people in simple jeans and sweaters and neither of the fifty-year-old women wore a stitch of makeup. They both had tight, pinched faces, like stereotypical shrews. You could tell by the feel of them they were both single and happy about it.

It wasn't their appearance that overwhelmed. It was the fact both of them refused outright to hide they were witches. They oozed power. On their own, Esther and Estelle Lawrence were rather weak, disjointed and unfocused. But, as often happens with identical twins, especially girls, together they were a force to be reckoned with. Considering their specialty was uncovering secrets others wished very much to remain hidden, they made the rest of us very, very nervous.

Every time I saw them I had the feeling I was guilty of something. This time was no exception. I squirmed under the doubled gaze as their eyes passed over each and every one of us with slow deliberation.

I wondered if they made my mother feel like a naughty six-year-old or if it was just me.

From the expressions on the faces of the other witches, it wasn't. But if Mom felt it, she was way too good to show it.

The group murmured a welcome. The twins simply nodded.

"Coffee?" Erica held out the pot.

"We have work to do," Esther said—or was it Estelle? "No time for idle chit-chat."

The twin who had spoken—I was pretty sure it was Esther—turned to Mom, face even more pinched and tight than usual as she focused on the task at hand.

"Miriam, if you would allow us?"

My mother bowed her head to the twins. "Thank you for coming so quickly," she said.

"We answer to the call of the coven," Estelle said with piety. The twins exchanged a look. "The coven's troubles are all of our troubles, no matter who is causing them."

They had the nerve to focus on me. I scowled at them as Mom gave me a sharp shake of her head.

"I would be honored if you would use my place of power," Mom said. "Please, follow me."

She led them away. A sense of relief went around the whole room. I glanced over at Erica and mouthed, 'What?' at her. She offered a sad smile and turned away.

I felt suddenly unwelcome. I stood up and walked out, knowing I was stiff, knowing they all watched me, getting madder and madder that they blamed me for the stuff that happened so far. Some gratitude for saving their collective butts.

I went up to my room and collapsed on my bed. Crap, I had history homework I hadn't finished. I fished out my stuff and started reading, but the words all ran together. After my tenth time reading one sentence, I tossed the book aside in frustration. I started doodling on a piece of loose leaf. My mind drifted to Brad. I thought about his hair, his eyes, his lips so close to kissing mine. Before I knew it I covered a page with big hearts, 'Syd and Brad' in the middles of them. I rolled my eyes at myself and giggled, knowing I would burn that piece of paper before I would let anyone see it.

I sat up, book forgotten, as I felt the huge build-up rising toward me. Something was really, really wrong and the demon in me would not let me sit it out.

I barely reached the bottom of the stairs when I heard the first scream from the basement. I recoiled physically from the whiplash of released power, passing through me and out of the house. I started running. I wasn't the only one, but I was the first at the top of the stairs and didn't hold them up on the way down.

I hit the basement floor and skidded to a halt only feet from Mom. She crouched over the still forms of the twins with her back to us. Her whole body shook. A strange noise came from her. I went to her and knelt, trying to understand what happened.

Mom turned to me, face flushed, hands trembling. She wept, her terror so vivid on her face I wanted to flinch from her. She clung to me, making the feeling of fear all that much worse as it washed over me from her, shaking so hard I had trouble hanging on to her.

"Mom," I whispered.

She continued to sob against me. I felt Erica kneel close by. I knew she was checking the twins. My expression asked the question my lips didn't want to. "They're alive," she said. "Just unconscious."

Mom's eyes were huge. "Are you sure?" She reached for Erica, grasping her hand so tight they both turned white. "I felt..."

"Mom?" I tried to pull her free of Erica. "What did you feel?"

She turned back to me, a desperation in her I never saw before, a scary emptiness that made me think of Gram.

"I felt them leave," she whispered.

I felt Erica's power reach out, out... and found nothing. Mom was right.

"How could this happen?" Celeste stepped forward, breathless and afraid, her full brown skirt swirling up mustiness from the basement floor. Her plain, tanned face glared, uncompromising. "Miriam, how could you let this happen?"

My mother shook her head, unable to speak. I spun on Celeste with my demon in my gaze. It was getting easier to let her out. I didn't care even a little that they all saw it.

"Give her a minute," I snapped.

Mom gripped my hand. She took large gulps of air, pulling herself together. The others backed off but they were waiting for answers. I just wanted my mom to be okay.

Mom struggled to rise. I helped her. She pulled herself erect, using me for balance and faced her coven deputies. Her eyes were still haunted and I had a weird feeling something within her changed, was wrong, weakened and smothered, but I couldn't put my finger on it and had no way to do anything about it.

"I don't know," she said. "The twins cast the spell, but it... failed... came back at them somehow, and they... they were taken away with it."

Celeste checked around with the others for support before speaking.

"You were here, Miriam, couldn't you stop it?"

Mom shook her head, still clinging to me. She was so weak, so unlike my mother, I almost shrank from the desperate grip she had on me.

"It happened so fast, the recoil, there was nothing... nothing I could do."

"Can't we bring them back?" I asked her. The sparkle that never left my mother's eyes no matter how mad she was at me, no matter how bad things were between us, vanished.

"No, Syd," she said very softly, though everyone heard her. "I've lost them. They're gone."

She started to cry.

***

# Chapter Twenty Seven

Several hours and dozens of witches later, we had no more answers than when the twins collapsed in the first place. Mom tried to remain as the focus, but I saw her wavering, leaning on Batsheva Moromond who arrived in a flurry shortly after the incident, claiming she felt it down the block. Erica didn't seem happy her position as second was taken over by the loud and portly woman, but I was happy as long as Mom had someone to lean on until she had her feet under her again.

I hunted privately for a hopeful thread of the green magic but there was nothing left, nothing to follow and since I really had no idea what I was doing, I quickly abandoned my search but not my frustration.

The attack took a huge toll on my mother to the point where she was not only physically drained, but her power limited as well. By the end of it, Batsheva supplied most of the magic guiding the search for the women's missing spirits.

She turned to Mom, round face crimson with effort, lipstick running into the little lines around her mouth so badly she had clown lips. "We've done what we can for them, Miriam," Batsheva said. "Our power is done, for tonight at least."

Every eye turned to my mother. She felt so frail, like a delicate shell was all that held her together. I was terrified for her. But she was still leader enough she gathered what strength remained to her.

"Very well," she whispered. "Have them taken and put into protection until we can figure this out."

Batsheva waved two members forward before taking my mother's elbow, guiding her to the stairs as the chosen witches prepared the empty bodies for magical stasis. They would be preserved for as long as the coven existed. But I was hoping their spirits would find their way home first.

I followed the weary and defeated group up the stairs and into the kitchen. Erica made a half-hearted effort at coffee and cookies but no one was interested. Jared stopped her by taking her hand and pulling her to him. He looked drained. They all did, beaten down a little more by what happened.

I thought about making my way to Mom but Batsheva still had a firm hold on her. I wasn't sure I wanted to face her for control. Her eyes settled on me. I saw a flicker of something nasty, like satisfaction.

"What happened here today was a great tragedy," she said. "Two wonderful witches, powerful sisters, have been silenced and we, as a coven, are lesser for it."

It was a punch to the gut and the ego. It was not her place to speak. That was my mother's job. What was wrong with Mom? I glared at her, trying to force her to snap out of it with will alone, but she just stood there, beaten.

I was so disappointed in her, ashamed she was my mother, I looked away, disgusted.

So much for the great family Hayle.

Celeste was willing at least to stand up for Mom if she wouldn't do it for herself.

"You presume a great deal," she said to Batsheva. "You don't speak for this coven."

The rest of the gathering agreed, although an undercurrent in the power still connecting them felt like fear and anger. It didn't help Mom's case any.

Batsheva bowed her head to Celeste. "Neither do you."

Celeste gasped. The air in the room tightened and turned really heavy really fast, to the point where weaker witches checked for the exits with longing. No one wanted to be in the middle of that thing when it blew up.

But Batsheva wasn't about to let that happen. I could hear her little mind spinning, manipulating the situation to her own advantage. I recognized Batsheva for what she really was—a grown up mean girl looking out for number one.

"Now Celeste, everyone," she said in her most soothing tone. "You know we are all here for the same reason. For the good of the twins and our coven."

Celeste backed off.

"Our dear leader seems to be in such a horrible state since the incident," Batsheva said. "She needs our strength and support right now. Isn't that right, Miriam, dear?"

My mother gazed at Batsheva for a whole two seconds before bobbing her head slowly.

"Yes," she whispered. "I only need... a little while..."

"There," Batsheva said, "you heard her. Now, we need to let Miriam rest. In fact, we all could use some, yes?" The weary witches murmured their agreement.

I was surprised Dominic was so silent all along. That was about to change.

"I want to know what happened," he blustered to no one in particular. Everyone tensed, the simple plan of going home and getting some sleep banished by his bravado.

Stupid jerk.

Batsheva smiled at her husband, but it wasn't pleasant. "We'll investigate more tomorrow, Dominic," she said with an edge to her voice. "When everyone is fresher."

He crossed his arms over his chest, little pig eyes full of stubborn anger.

"I want to talk about it now. Because I know what happened. We all do."

They were clearly confused. Was he crazy? Or maybe he loved the sound of his own voice?

He glared at me. I knew what he was going to say.

"That child," his index finger pointed right at me, "is a menace that has brought this coven to the brink of ruin because of a doting mother too weak to rein her in."

No one said a word. Not to agree, but not in my defense either, the cowards.

"Excuse me," I said. "I've managed to save the day a couple of times, thank you very much. So point that thing somewhere else."

I would never have spoken to an adult who wasn't my mom that way under normal circumstances but he was severely pissing me off.

He wasn't about to let it go. "My point exactly," he said, as though I showed some evil mark proving I did it.

"Could you explain, please?" Celeste said.

"Idiots," he snapped. "Don't you see? The child has been stirring up the trouble herself and fixing things to make herself seem innocent. Well, she doesn't look so innocent to me." He glared at me with a smug expression.

Where did he get off? He wasn't even around when it happened. It was like he was deliberately trying to stir the coven against me, blaming me for every single thing that happened. I was getting tired of being his default bad guy.

Thank goodness Meira was at her friend's for the day. I was glad she didn't have to listen to this crap. I wasn't so fortunate. Still, I was the new and improved mouthy Syd who didn't take talk like that from anyone.

I wound up to lay a good one on him when my mother beat me to it.

"Dominic," she said, her voice steadier than it had been all day. "Don't ever accuse my daughter again."

I felt relief flood through me. Just like that, my mom stood there, not the shell she was a moment before. Something about her changed, as if a switch had been thrown. Batsheva scowled at her husband. I heard a gasp of air and caught a glimpse of Jared sagging against Erica, the pressure of the day too much for him.

Dominic refused to back down.

"I demand she be tried and punished!" His color was high. He took a step toward Mom and, in doing so, me.

Not smart. Not smart at all.

Not only did my mother react, but everyone else there, including me, leapt to her defense, flooding her with a surge of power. It lit her up like a torch. Her back straightened as Dominic stared at her. Miriam Hayle, coven leader, stared back.

"As I told you once before," she said very softly, a threat in her voice, "if you are unhappy with the way this coven is run, you are welcome to leave. My daughter stays." I could see the old Mom shining in her eyes.

Now I really needed to get her alone.

Mom pulled free of Batsheva as though she only then noticed the other woman held her. Batsheva backed off, but not without another glare at Dominic.

"We all need rest," Mom said. "Everyone, please, go home, get some sleep. Ward your homes," she added, "every window, every doorway. To be safe."

"Miriam," Celeste said. "What are we going to do?"

"We are going to get to the bottom of this," my mother answered. "And we're not going to stop until we do."

The family dispersed, not quite healed but less afraid than before Mom's return to herself. I saw her shake her head as if trying to kick a headache. I went to her as the coven members continued to file out.

"Mom," I said, worried about raising my voice, "are you okay?"

She reached out for me and pulled me close, hugging me hard. I could feel her heart pounding as she held me in silence. I understood her need to show strength so I stood next to her and gripped her hand. Celeste paused in front of us, her eyes drifting over me. She bowed her head to Mom before disappearing into the darkening day.

Finally, it was me, Mom, Erica, Jared and Batsheva. She had rushed Dominic out already, whispering to him in a fury as she shoved him out the door. She came to us, a sad, weary smile on her face that felt so fake I wanted to slap her.

"Miriam," Batsheva said, "if there is anything I can do, please, call. I can be here in minutes."

I felt my mother's hand tighten in mine but her face didn't show it. "I'm perfectly fine, Batsheva," she said, "if upset about all of this. But, I'll get to the bottom of it, I assure you."

The two faced off. I watched the cheer fade from Batsheva's face. She left without another word. The door clicked shut behind her.

"See ya," I said. "Can you believe that crap?" Mom was still collected, poised. She turned to Erica and the very pale Jared.

"Erica," she said, "could you do me a favor and run over to the Patrick's? Meira must be ready to come home by now."

"Of course," Erica said. "Miriam, can I...?"

"I'm fine," my mom repeated, same expression, same words, same treatment. Erica's face fell.

"I'll get her now." She left, Jared leaning on her. He caught my gaze as they walked out the door and I saw regret there.

Weird.

It wasn't until she was gone that Mom released my hand. I turned to my mother.

"Syd," she said, her anxiety on the surface where I could see it. "Oh, Syd."

"Mom?" I said, echoing her fear with my newly pounding pulse. I didn't know if I could take much more, but I told myself I would be there for her and I wanted to know. She was taking me up on my side of the offer. Time for me to suck it up and be strong for her for once.

"Syd," she choked. "Dad..."

My heart skipped a beat. "Is he... is Dad okay?"

She sank into a chair, tears welling. She shook her head at me.

"I have no idea," she admitted.

"But, your link," I sat next to her. "You and Dad are connected. You can feel him whether he's on this plane or not. Can't you?"

"That's just it, Syd," she said. "I can. Dad made sure of that."

"So," I prodded. "Why are you so worried about him? Is he okay or not?"

"I wish I knew," she whispered. "I can't feel him anymore."

***

# Chapter Twenty Eight

I held Mom's hand as she cried for a time before pulling herself together. When my mother looked up at me again, there was more strength there than ever before.

"Syd," she said to me, as serious as I had ever seen her, "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything, Mom," I said, and I meant it.

"I need you to take care of your sister," she answered. The urgency in her voice did nothing to slow the pounding of my heart. "No matter what happens, no matter what you see or what I do, please make sure you keep Meira safe. Promise me."

I thought I was afraid before. "Mom," I started, but she shook her head.

"Promise me, Syd." Cold blue flames filled her eyes as she called her power. I felt it crawl across me as she cast a spell of intention and protection.

I knew what I was doing. I was allowing her to bind me to my word, a binding that would even survive her death. Potent magic that made me shudder from it while I hoped I'd never need it. "I promise I will do anything to keep Meira safe."

Gold and blue energy flashed between us, blinding me for a moment. I blinked away the spots floating in my vision.

"I would have done it without the magic, Mom," I said.

"I know, Syd," she said. "But I needed to bind her to you and it was the best way."

"Why?" I demanded as she pulled back, tired and drawn, hugging herself. "Mom, what is going on?"

We heard the crunch of tires in the driveway. Mom leaned toward me, intense.

"Whatever you do," she said, "in the next few days, keep your sister safe and don't trust anyone, Syd. Anyone."

She sat back as Meira ran through the door and into her arms. I wanted to ask more questions but the look she gave me over Meira's curls told me she said all she was willing to say.

Fine. I was on my own, then.

Mom sent me upstairs with Meira to put her to bed. I didn't argue. I tucked in my worn out sister and kissed her goodnight, not surprised she was asleep by the time I turned off the light. Spending a day playing can do that to a kid.

Wish I had the same excuse.

I almost went to my room, but I was lured by the sound of voices in the kitchen. I snuck downstairs, stopping in the hallway so I could sort them out. I eavesdropped, knowing it was the only way I was going to get any information from my mother. Not like they left me much of a choice or anything.

I heard Uncle Frank. "Miriam, are you sure?" His voice was quiet, tense. I had to strain to hear.

"Positive," Mom said. "I know what it feels like to be taken, Frank. The fuzzy wall, the distortion, dizziness, the missing time."

I frowned hard. Mom thought I was taken by someone? My very being suppressed, taken over by another witch and used for some horrible, hideous purpose? No way! Until I remembered the night Sassy went missing. I felt a cold thrill of fear. Someone took me over, someone who wanted to use me to hurt the family. Mom was totally right not to trust me. I couldn't even trust me at that point, could I? And after I'd been taken once, it was way easier for the witch who did it to do it again. In fact, I had no way of knowing how many times it happened. Maybe I was responsible for Gram's escapes after all... I shook my head in the quiet dark of the hallway, wracking my brain for proof that I hadn't. I came up with nothing.

Oh, crap.

"But if you don't know who..." Sunny's voice trailed off. "Can we help?"

"You're the only ones I can trust right now," Mom answered with gratitude in her voice. "Thank you, Sunny."

"Don't thank me," the blonde vampire answered. "I owe you so much. It's the least I can do. Tell us what you need."

"Not here," Mom said. "I want the coven left out of this and the house is too connected to them. There could be ears here."

I shuddered. Mom was talking about a traitor. I assumed whoever attacked us was an outsider, a stranger. The thought it could be a family member terrified me. Someone I knew my whole life rifled around inside me, using me against the people I cared about. There were no secrets here. The traitor knew everything about everyone and could be anyone.

My mind flashed to the Moromonds, but I knew I was being uncharitable. It could have been Erica or Celeste or the Vegas. I thought about Louisa and Martin. They were the first to be attacked. Could it be a set up? A way to make them appear innocent? I shook my head. Stupid Dominic Moromond made me doubt people I'd known since childhood.

"What about Harry?" Frank was saying. I held my breath. I heard Mom's voice catch and knew she struggled with tears.

"I can't reach him," she admitted. "Whatever happens will have to be without him. Hopefully once this is all over we can not only free the twins but reconnect with Harry at the same time."

And if we couldn't? The very thought I might never see my dad again made me want to cry right along with her.

I heard the scraping of a chair on the floor and a soft creak as someone sat.

"Frank," Mom said and I guessed it was her, "the girls..."

"We'll take care of them," Frank said. "In fact, if you want them out of this, we have friends who will take them for a little while."

No way! There was no way I was leaving! I think Mom knew what my reaction would be because she laughed.

"You can be the one to tell Syd she can't stay," she said.

Sunny laughed too.

"Then what?" Uncle Frank wanted to know.

"Just... keep an eye on them, please. You two are immune to all this. If something happens maybe you can keep them safe for that very fact." She sounded so worn out. I knew how tired she must be. "I only wish..."

"Miriam, don't you dare blame yourself," Sunny said.

"I've let this happen," Mom answered. Her voice hushed with failure. "I allowed this evil into our coven, invited it in, no less. I am supposed to shield my people from harm. Instead I have welcomed it with open arms. What kind of leader does that, Sunny? What kind of witch fails her family?"

"An honest one," Sunny said. "Who trusts and loves unconditionally. But no matter what, Miriam, you are the stronger. You've gotten this far, figured this much out, more than the evil ones hoped or expected. Don't judge yourself until it's all over and they are defeated because you beat them."

I wanted to hug Sunny so much for saying exactly what I wanted to say to my mother I wrapped my arms around myself and squeezed.

I heard the sound of movement and the brush of cloth and guessed Mom hugged her for me. Perfect.

"We'll see what we can find out," Uncle Frank said. "Where do you want to meet?"

"The site," my mother answered, referring to the formal meeting place set up for ceremonies. "It's been warded already for Samhain so it should be safe."

"We'll meet you there. Let's go, Sunshine."

I heard the door open and close. I hesitated in the hallway, still hugging myself. I thought about sneaking back upstairs, but Mom had other ideas.

"Please come in, Syd."

Don't ever try to sneak up on a witch. I walked into the kitchen and saw her sitting at the table. She held out her hands. I went to her.

"You heard," she said, knowing I had.

"Most of it," I answered.

"So you understand why we can't do this here," she said.

"Mom..." I trailed off, wanting so much to talk to her, to talk to Dad, to try to make sense of what was happening to our family, wanted to convince her she could trust me even though I knew we had gone way past that. She already understood what I was trying to say, though. She kissed me gently on the cheek.

"I know, honey. We'll be okay."

I begged for it to be true, wanting to believe her. She radiated confidence and strength and despite the fact I knew she was as scared as me I believed her as I always believed her. Once again I was grateful she was in charge instead of me.

As we sat there holding hands, a stray thought crossed my mind. I was amazed my whole Sunday was gone yet again, wasted, but this time not because of anything I did, whatever the coven chose to think. I made a face.

"Syd?" She squeezed my hands. "What's wrong?"

I hung my head, kicking myself but knowing there was nothing at all I could do about it now. "I missed soccer practice," I said.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said.

I realized how stupid that was considering the day we had. Screw soccer.

"I'm not," I answered.

We went to bed and I didn't argue when Mom offered to tuck me in. She kissed me goodnight and touched my hair before turning off the light and closing the door.

Despite my paranoia I would be taken against my will in my sleep, I was so tired I passed out pretty much right away. I'm not sure what woke me, but the clock said I was out a couple of hours. I tried to turn over, but there was a familiar presence tucked in behind me. I managed to catch a glimpse of my sleeping mother over my shoulder. She held me as she slept, something she hadn't done since I was very small. Despite the fact I was uncomfortable and wanted to shift around, I stayed still and managed to go back to sleep with the steady presence of Mom to lull me to slumber.

When I woke the next morning, she was gone.

I missed her.

***

# Chapter Twenty Nine

I tried talking to Mom that morning, but she seemed very preoccupied with Meira so I let it go. I left her with some reluctance, carrying unfinished homework and a whole load of anxiety about the coven. But as much as I wanted to play hooky, Mom insisted I go to school, so to school I went.

I was bummed about soccer but brushed it off. After the disaster the week before the coach would have benched me for the last game anyway. The way things were going in this town the chances of us being around for the spring season were slim to none.

In that confused and worried state of mind, trying not to jump at shadows and keep my cool as well as my shields, I entered my high school and headed to my locker. I glanced up before I made it there and spotted Brad coming toward me. I flashed him a smile, remembering the warm, fuzzy feelings from the day before.

He glared at me like I did him some horrible injury and kept walking.

I felt like I'd been slapped. I almost turned around and went after him, but I was in too fragile a state as things stood to even deal with the fact Brad was mad at me. Besides, did I do something to him while not myself? Did the traitor who took me over screw up my budding social life too?

It took me until I reached my locker to have the _ah ha_ moment. I cursed under my breath, banging my locker door against its neighbor over and over as I admitted soccer wasn't the only thing that slipped my mind.

I missed our date. No phone call to apologize, no note to say I wouldn't make it, nothing, nada, zippo. My fault and mine alone. I would have preferred it if the traitor did it so I wouldn't have to feel so guilty.

Despite the fact I had a really good excuse, it didn't help me feel anything less like a total and complete idiot.

I hunted for him during first period break. He hung out on the front steps with a pack of football boys. I was surprised to see it. Wasn't he cutting his ties to them? He laughed with them so I guessed he changed his mind. When I approached, his face turned cold, beautiful eyes shutting down completely.

"What?" It came out so harsh I felt breathless. His friends all laughed at my expression.

"Brad, I..."

He made a rude sound. The boys all laughed again.

"Brad, I," he mocked. "Spit it out, Hayle. What do you want?"

By this point we collected quite a crowd, including Suzanne. I watched in disbelief and horror as she went to his side and slid herself under his arm. She grinned her evil little grin at me.

"Maybe there's something wrong with her," Suzanne said. "Like a brain thing."

"Maybe you're right," Brad said, the hurt in his eyes no excuse for being a bully.

Everyone laughed. I, on the other hand, snapped.

"How are you feeling, Suzanne?" I hissed at her. "Any more tummy troubles?"

The group fell silent with a few snickers. Problem was, most of the crowd were at the party. Only the ones who hadn't found it funny.

I didn't give a crap.

She scowled at me, pulling free of Brad.

"You're done at this school," she hissed.

I barked a laugh. "Yeah," I shot back. "Heard that one before. Feel like taking me on, Suzanne? Really?"

She backed down. They all did. Cowards.

I spun on Brad.

"I wanted to apologize for missing our date last night," I said, nice and loud so everyone would hear. "I had a family emergency and had to stay home. I'm really sorry," I finished.

I turned and left before he had a chance to say anything, not caring if he was going to or not. I walked away, shoulders back, knowing I did what I could. It was a shame he turned to the dark side but it wasn't my problem anymore.

I had way bigger things to worry about than the state of Brad Peters' soul.

I made it to Chemistry and collapsed in my chair. I didn't hear a word my teacher said the entire period. Even Quaid's constant smirk had no effect on me.

Alison caught up to me as I left, her hand on my arm pulling me around. I forgot she was even in my class and glanced up from my floor stare into her eyes.

"Syd," she said. "I heard what happened. Are you okay?"

I shook my head and left the room as she trailed along beside me.

"It doesn't matter, Al," I said. "I wish Brad asked me what happened instead of being a jerk, but I guess I can't blame him."

She hugged her books to her as I dumped my stuff in my locker.

"Mind if I have lunch with you?" she asked.

"Please," I said. "Don't leave me alone to beat myself black and blue."

We found a place on the back lawn on one of the last nice days before the cold weather hit. As beautiful as it was, the sun was barely warm enough to make sitting outside possible. Even the slightest breeze would have sent us scurrying back inside. But it was a perfect day. I was very happy to be in my element.

"Suzanne's going to think you had something to do with everyone getting sick now after that comment," Alison said.

I shrugged. She had no idea how close she was to the truth. "Let her. Wait a minute," I said. "How did you know what I said to her?"

Alison had the good grace to blush. "Sorry, Syd," she said. "I was there. I was going to jump in with you," she insisted. I believed her. "You kicked some serious butt before I could do anything."

"I guess."

"Are you kidding me?" she said. "You rock, Syd."

She beamed at me so brightly I had to smile back.

"We think so, too."

I looked up into the little pack of outcasts and knew I really did want to have friends after all.

"Thanks, Simon," I said. "Want to have lunch with us?"

That was that.

Being surrounded by people who didn't care if I was cool or not or had power or blue stripes or two heads was really awesome when I settled in and became used to it. I sat back and listened to the conversation around me and enjoyed my sandwich and the sunshine. I tried not to think about betrayal or losing myself and my mother.

"It's a metaphysical change," Pain said in her gruff, deep voice.

"Paranormal, you know?" Blood agreed with her.

I snapped into focus and jumped into the conversation they were having with Beth.

"Sorry?" I asked. "What's paranormal?"

Crap, what had I done, now?

"The gear," Blood said, gesturing to himself and his emo get up.

Okay, not me, just weird.

"Sorry, Blood," I said. "I don't get it."

He nodded sagely, long hair hanging over his blacked out eyes.

"It's cool, Syd. Like, the transformation, you know? Making the outside to match the inside."

I tried to grasp it. "So, on the inside you're... black?"

He bobbed his head happily, exchanging a glance with Pain. She smiled at me too.

"Yeah, Syd, yeah. You hear it, sister. Black. Blacked out. Empty. Ready for the, you know, whatever power to come and, like, fill up the hole, the chasm."

"Right," I tried to sound encouraging, but wasn't sure if I hit it.

"Parents don't get it," Pain assured me. She could say that again.

"They hate the gear," Blood agreed. "But only because they don't understand their own soul, you know? Like, they are different people all the time, not real, you get it?"

I felt a twinge of something and reached for it.

"Say again?" I asked, leaning in. This felt important, really important. What was I missing?

"They, like, aren't their real selves," Pain said while Blood's hair swayed agreement. "Like, not the selves they are when they say they love you and want to tuck you in at night and, like, connect and stuff."

"Lame," Blood said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, lame," Pain agreed. "They see the gear and they lose it and they're, like, they're out, and someone else is home."

Everything clicked together in my head. I gasped. Someone else is home... I realized my mistake. Mom hadn't been talking about me the night before when she said she knew what it felt like to be taken.

She was talking about herself.

Mom told me not to trust her, not because of what I thought happened, that she lost control of the spell that hurt the twins, but because of what she _knew_ happened. Someone, the traitor, took control of my mother and she was terrified there was going to be a repeat performance. That was why she was so weird the afternoon before, so empty, so blank and out of it. She wasn't tired or affected by the attack.

She was taken.

I leapt to my feet, scattering the remains of my lunch on the grass. My new friends were curious, but it was Alison I turned to.

"Al," I said, "I have to go home. Can you cover for me this afternoon? Tell my teachers I had an emergency?"

"Sure, Syd, is everything okay?"

I stopped for one second and tried to come up with a reasonable answer.

"No," I said, being honest. "But it will be."

I took off at a run for home, not caring what they thought, what my teachers would think, wanting to get to my mother.

How did the traitor get to her? She was the most powerful witch around. I figured out this 'whoever' was also able to cut through her wards, to hide from her in plain sight. I was even more afraid.

The traitor was stronger than my mother.

I was so lost in thought, letting my body run, turning my realizations over and over I almost missed the huge black dog that leapt out of the end of a driveway and into my path. I managed to skid to a halt out of reach of the shaggy, snarling giant. I checked around for help but we were alone. I tried going around him, making 'good doggie' noises, but he wasn't having any. He followed every move I made and threatened me with his huge teeth every time I tried to get closer.

I had a tingling feeling in the back of my mind that this dog was familiar but I couldn't remember why. Frustrated, I decided to call my demon to chase him off and hope the neighbors didn't notice.

I had just gathered myself when a woman and her child came out of the house. The little girl started to scream.

The dog saw her. With one final snarl, he turned tail and ran off. I glanced up the driveway.

"Are you okay?" The woman asked, voice shaky, clutching her daughter to her.

"Yeah," I said. "Thank you. I thought he was going to bite me."

"I've seen that dog around but no one seems to own him," she said. "I'll call the sheriff."

"Thanks again," I said. I ran the last block home, cursing the stupid dog for holding me back.

But when I burst in the front door, calling for my mother, I was met with silence.

Mom was already gone.

***

# Chapter Thirty

I paced the day away, wearing a track from my room to the kitchen as I spent the next several hours waiting for someone, anyone, to come home. Even Meira's bus passed our house without stopping.

I fretted over trying to find my mother. Why couldn't I ever convince her to carry a cell phone? If it had anything to do with computers or technology, Mom was _way_ old fashioned. Which meant I was stuck in the dark, soon to be literally, with no idea what was going on. My tentative tries to reach her with my mind found nothing which meant she was either heavily shielded or I was doing it wrong. And since my telepathy was fed by my air magic, something I'd never really learned to use long range, I knew I was pretty much out of luck unless I stumbled on the answer by some happy accident. Trouble was, most of my accidents had nothing to do with happy.

I did call around to Meira's normal friends, but no one had seen Mom or my sister.

When the sun set, I expected Uncle Frank and Sunny to rise. At least they would be bodies to talk to, if not warm ones. And Uncle Frank would probably know more than I did. Or, at least, that was what I kept telling myself to keep from tearing my hair out in frustration.

But when neither of the vampires made an appearance by a half-hour after sunset, I decided to investigate. I snuck into the basement, feeling somehow like an intruder despite the fact it was my house too. I went to Uncle Frank's cupboard. I felt a little disoriented. Something in the basement wasn't right.

I understood at last. The cupboards were gone.

It's not like someone could have casually walked in and helped themselves to the pair, either. They were a matching set of handmade, solid cherry wardrobes, all the heavier for the two vampire bodies inside. I was always grateful Uncle Frank hated coffins and opted for cupboards instead, but at that point I would have been happy to see him in a shoebox.

Now I was really worried. Had they simply not been in their sleeping place it could have been that they stayed somewhere else that day even though it wasn't like them not to come home. But the fact their cupboards were missing all together... unless they decided to move them in the middle of the night and not tell us, it was very possible Uncle Frank and Sunny joined Sassafras on the missing list.

I went back upstairs and started pacing again. I needed to talk to someone, but I didn't dare call anyone in the coven. What if I picked the wrong person? Alerted the traitor?

By eight o'clock I couldn't stand it anymore. I decided the risk was worth it and called Erica's.

It rang so many times I was sure she was missing too. I almost hung up when I heard the click. A breathless male voice said, "Hello?"

Crap. Jared. I drew a breath and risked it.

"Hi, it's Syd," I said. "Is Erica there?"

"No," he answered, sounding puzzled. "She's already at the site."

"Site?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"The ceremony," he explained. "Syd, where are you?"

"Home," I said. "Alone. I can't find anyone. Meira's not even here, or Gram." I felt a little whiny when I said it and hoped it wasn't and wondered why I cared.

"That's weird," he said. "I'm on my way out there. Do you want me to pick you up?"

I hesitated. Could I trust him? I took a chance.

"Thanks, yeah," I said.

"See you in a minute." He hung up.

I grabbed a sweater and locked the house, waiting for him on the porch. He pulled in a moment later in his silver Volvo. He tooted the horn despite the fact I was sitting right there.

I hated it when people did that. I climbed in the front seat and put on my seat belt as Jared greeted me.

"Hey, Syd."

"Hi," I said.

He backed out of the driveway as he spoke.

"You almost missed all the fun," he said.

Fun? What was his problem? "What's going on?" I asked.

He watched the road. "Your mother is having a ceremony to cleanse the coven."

And she didn't include me. So that meant either she was trying to keep me out of it or she was taken again and whoever the traitor was didn't want me there. Didn't matter which. I was going.

"How's school?" I didn't appreciate his attempts at small talk but figured if he was nice enough to drive me I should at least make an effort.

"Okay," I said.

"Cool," he said. I winced. Grownups should never say "cool". Ever.

"How about soccer? You were quite the player the other day."

I decided I stretched my good will about as far as I could.

"I'm a little worried about Mom right now," I said. "If you don't mind."

He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. "Sorry, Syd," he said. "Just trying to keep it light."

"Don't bother," I replied.

"Fair enough. We're all worried, you know."

I gazed out the window, staring into the darkness, trying to ignore him. I know, I wasn't being very charitable, considering. Still, he took the hint and fell silent.

The rest of the ten-minute drive went by in total quiet. I watched the streetlights get further apart as we came to the edge of town and disappear altogether when we hit the countryside. The new site chosen for our major Sabbath celebrations was far enough outside of town to keep us from prying eyes. Owned by the coven, it was warded so no one would trespass. I knew that part of the ritual for cleansing the site for our use also put up gentle barriers that encouraged normals to stay away if they happened across our land. Nothing overt, just a nudge that made them want to walk in the opposite direction.

Jared slowed the car and turned down a dark dirt lane I would have missed. I held on over the bumps but only had to endure the rough ride for a minute. The site came into view up ahead, packed with cars. A large bonfire lit everything. Someone set the Samhain fire alight a night too early and I wondered. Another would have to be built, power cast. It seemed like such a waste.

Jared parked the car and watched at me as I undid my seatbelt. I reached for the door handle before I noticed he stared at me. I looked back at him. In the dark of the car, I couldn't tell what was in his eyes.

"Syd," he said. "Be careful tonight."

"Good advice for everyone," I answered.

"Seriously," he said.

I debated, torn. I needed to tell someone, who else was I going to share with?

"Thanks for the drive," I said, and escaped before I caved.

I made my way across the crushed grass creased with the passage of multiple cars, weaving my way through other late arrivals, headed for the center of the site. For once, I was out of the path of the smoke and only had to deal with the flickering glare as I walked. Just past it, I saw the coven gathering, and not our usual number. My jaw dropped. I stopped walking as I saw that every single member was there, all one hundred and thirteen of them—minus the twins—including my grandmother. Gram stood next to Mom, chewing something. I could only assume someone thought to give her chocolate toffee to keep her busy.

The whole coven never gathered. Okay, so they did on holidays, but this wasn't one. Why were they all there? I shivered as I thought of the power about to be called. If anything went wrong, it wouldn't be pretty. Considering the state my mother was in, I wasn't sure if being there was such a good idea.

I wove my way past witches I hadn't seen since the last Sabbath and crossed the circle into the center of the site. I could feel eyes on me, unfriendly eyes. I knew I hadn't been invited for a reason. Tough cookies. I ignored Dominic Moromond's glare as he spotted me, not even bothering to glance his way. I felt relief when he made no attempt to stop me from going to Mom.

The giant pentagram focus of the site glowed with candles, different colors for each point, representing the elements they stood for: blue for air, green for water, brown for earth, red for fire and white for the spirit, the focal point of the pentagram, near where my mother stood. I made my way over the centerline of candles and to Mom. The part that was my mother was missing. Couldn't anyone else see it? Feel it? Panic rose inside me as I searched the faces that surrounded us but no one seemed concerned. Mom had been taken and the coven didn't even notice. She went back to staring out over the gathering while I desperately tried to reach her

Nothing. Just a big wall of nothing.

I turned to go to Erica, to tell her, get her to help when my sister slammed into me. She was very happy to see me, throwing herself across the pentagram and wrapping her little arms around my waist.

"Syd!" She cried. "You're late!" She reeked of scented ceremonial smoke and fast food.

I picked her up and hugged her, gesturing to Erica, trying to be subtle. Erica frowned at me and shook her head a little like I was supposed to just stand there and not cause any trouble.

She had no idea what trouble was.

I remembered I had Meira in my arms. "Yeah," I said. "You guys left without me."

She made a face. "Erica picked me up at school," she said. "Brought me right here. We've been getting ready all day!" She glowed. "It was so fun. I got to have take-out and they let me light the fire!"

There must have been something on my face, because hers fell.

"Syd?" Her eyes were clear amber and very serious. "What's wrong?"

I put her down, heart falling. Erica picked her up. Could she possibly be in on it? I couldn't bring myself to believe that but it did make me hesitate to go to her. "Just stay with me, okay, Meems?" I suddenly felt very alone.

Joy gone, she clung to my hand. I could almost taste her fear and felt bad about it, but only for an instant of weakness. From what I could see, she should have been afraid. I know I was.

I didn't have time to try to talk to Mom because the last of the witches stepped within their assigned section of the pentagram. She closed the circle.

"My friends, my family, my coven," she took two steps forward toward the center, her voice carrying to every person there. "We have come here tonight, on Samhain eve, to cleanse ourselves of the evil power that attacked us and tried to weaken us with its negative magic."

I checked out the other members and saw only rapt attention. I was determined I could find the traitor by staring at each person, that their guilt would jump out at me. But every single witch was caught up in the power of the family, the huge and generous whole that made the Hayle coven the envy of the witching world. I made a face at Batsheva's rapture and caught Quaid's expression.

Okay, maybe one other person wasn't caught up in it either. We locked eyes as my mother went on.

"Call forth your magic, bring it to the surface, share with your family so we may join as one and cleanse our circle of this evil." I could feel the wave of power building, a slow, gentle thing, familiar from so many years of being forced to endure these ceremonies. It felt like a Sabbath gathering, despite the fact we were a day early. I wondered if it worked would we be forced to do another dog and pony show again the next night? Yes, a silly thing to worry about, but there it was.

I held back on purpose, mainly so no one could blame me if something happened but also so I could feel what was going on without being engulfed by it. That was why I picked up the subtle thread my demon didn't like, the familiar magic I'd sensed twice before. I fought her to keep her under control, a battle so all-consuming I almost missed the drama unfolding around me.

It didn't take long for the gathering to guess something was terribly wrong. The calling felt unbalanced, uneven, as though Mom's ability to manipulate and shape it was missing. I saw her face twist as I continued to struggle with my demon, and knew my mother fought whoever took her over. I gathered my demon's attention and showed her what was happening. We had to help her.

My demon understood. And slammed into my mother so hard it gave Mom the shove she needed to get control back.

I saw the light come back in her gaze, saw the evil power vanish at the same time my demon went silent.

But it was already too late. The collective energy rose unguided and unstable, despite Mom's attempts to rein it in. Fear shone on every face, terror even, as the spell, now with a life of its own, drew more and more of itself free of the witches in the circle, growing into a massive column of wild magic. It rose into the air above us, hovering, writhing with life. Mom stepped forward. I sensed she was close, so close to getting it under control. Had she only another second, I know she could have done it. But she didn't have the time she needed.

Instead, she did the only thing she could. She committed it to the elements and hoped for the best. By doing so, the power would be diffused, absorbed by whichever one drew it. The worst part about trusting natural forces was there was no way to tell which of the four would take control. Air would work, although the normals would get a show. There wasn't any water nearby the force could flow into. The bonfire would be ideal as it was already burning and though that much of an infusion would cause a massive explosion, the wards on the site would keep it contained and protect the coven.

The only one that would be an issue, really, was earth. We were tied so tightly to it, the force of the release could do serious damage. Unfortunately for Mom, that was exactly where it went. The thing surged and expanded above us and crashed to the pentagram like a massive hammer, slamming down on the entire site from point to point, extinguishing every candle at once. It burst into nothing, recoiling violently back through the family and into the ground.

I found myself on my back, feeling the tingling of the soil beneath me as the last of the magic dissipated. I knew if Mom hadn't managed to channel it somewhere, it would have destroyed us all. As it was, I felt like being destroyed may have been the better choice.

Meira clutched my hand as I struggled to catch my breath. I could hear crying and moans all around me as the witches suffered from the recoil of power. I struggled to a sitting position, feeling like I weighed a thousand pounds. I drew Meira to me. She cried in my heavy arms. I saw Mom's motionless body not far from us and gathered what remaining strength I had. I slowly, so slowly, pulled the two of us to our mother. She was crushed into the ground, the earth around her indented with the weight of what she did. I knew she channeled as much of it through herself as she could. It saved the coven whether they knew it or not, but she paid the price. She literally imprinted in the ground beneath her, face-first in the dirt and grass.

I let go of Meira long enough to struggle with her limp body. I managed finally to roll her over. I had a panicked moment before she opened her eyes and looked at me.

I was never so happy to see her.

Mom pulled herself up, out of breath. Her face twisted into horrible grief. She clutched my hand hard for support. Our gazes locked.

"Syd," she whispered. "What have I done?"

"Miriam!" Erica's voice called, desperate and terrified, taking my mother's attention before I could answer. "Jared!"

His body lay crumpled on the ground. Mom struggled to rise but it was Batsheva who made it to Erica first, who sent a surge to Jared and revived him.

I knew as I felt around the circle not everyone there was going to be so lucky. As the stunned awareness began to wear off, the wailing and weeping began. Too many of the witches felt like the twins, alive but empty. Mom's tears fell as she sat there, looking around her but not really seeing with her eyes. She was searching with her power. What she saw, what we both saw, broke my mother's heart.

It was Batsheva Moromond who broke her will.

"How has this happened?" The portly woman staggered toward us, naked shock on her face at the crumpled and damaged mass that was the most powerful coven in the country. "Where was your power, Miriam? Where was the Hayle strength to lead us?"

The wailing and crying stopped. Everyone still with us stared at my mother, glared at her. They demanded an answer with that collective glare. There was such a heaviness to them, a desperate anguish that needed to know what happened, wanting to blame. I was terrified so much negative energy focused on Mom.

I watched in awe as my mother, unbowed even then, found reserves within herself and rose under the weight of it.

***

# Chapter Thirty One

When I felt Mom trying to stand, I helped her. I stood next to her as she faced the coven and, more specifically, Batsheva. I tried to feed her but she blocked me, so I stopped. She wavered as she stood there, but her shoulders sat square. She was herself. I couldn't ask for more than that.

"Well?" Batsheva demanded, voice throbbing with emotion. Her face twisted to a mask of grief. I thought she was laying it on a little thick. "Explain yourself! Explain this horror!"

Mom faced her, calm and poised. "I cannot," she said.

A breath rippled through the coven, a regret. Batsheva seized it and used it like a weapon.

"You are our leader," she spoke to them as she did to Mom. "You were to keep us safe, protected. This cleansing was your idea! We warned you," she said, "attempting a spell so powerful this close to Samhain was dangerous. But you wouldn't listen!"

The witches who could muttered, anger growing, accusations building. I held on to my mother and prayed I could protect her if it turned ugly.

But that wasn't what Batsheva had in mind. In fact, I think I knew what she was after, what she had been after since the day I met her. Whether she was involved with the traitor or just taking advantage of the situation, the result was the same.

She wanted Mom's job and she wouldn't stop until she had it.

Not that my mom was going to give up without a fight.

"There is a reason it failed," Mom spoke, her voice carrying past the murmurs. Silence fell. Batsheva turned to her, frowning.

"But you said..."

"I said," Mom cut her off, "I didn't know what happened, and I don't. But I know why."

I could feel the coven wavering back toward her. She pulled away from me and stood alone, turning slowly to them as she spoke.

"There is a traitor among us," Mom said, "who sabotaged this ceremony and means to destroy us all."

Fear rose again as they gasped. A ripple ran through the gathering.

"Miriam," Erica said, "who is it?"

Everyone looked to her as leader. I did, even. I wanted an answer. I assumed she had one.

No such luck.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"And yet," Batsheva seized on it, "there is a traitor." She used scorn like a whip as she went on. "This mysterious traitor none of us has seen proof of. Only the unfortunate bumbling of a witch who can no longer control her own power. Or the power of her children." I glared at her as she pointed at me. Seemed like Batsheva learned a thing or two from her darling husband. I refused to even glance his way.

"The traitor exists," Mom said, her soft voice again cutting through the mutters and heavy emotions. "And is trying as we speak to separate us, to divide us."

Batsheva played at being offended. "Are you accusing me?"

"That's not what I said," Mom answered. "But we need to stand together, now, to uncover the real truth before it destroys us."

Erica stood, helping Jared to his feet. "What do you want us to do?"

I saw the expression on Batsheva's face as she recognized she was losing control of the situation. I even knew the moment she made her decision to destroy Mom if she could.

I just wasn't in any position to stop it.

"Yes, Miriam," she said, "tell us what to do. Tell us how to find this traitor." A whisper of power slid around the circle. The witches wavered. "Tell us, oh mighty leader, how to make this," she gestured around at the damaged group, "right. Tell us how you plan to reverse this, to save us all, because so far you have only managed to bring this coven to its knees."

They leaned to Batsheva, linking to her. They agreed with her, actually _agreed_. I felt her win them over at the same time my mother did.

Mom sighed. Whatever she clung to faded. I watched her crumple in on herself. I couldn't help her because she wouldn't let me.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've failed you all."

Batsheva must have sensed victory because she softened and approached us with gentle concern that turned my stomach.

"Miriam," she said. "As much as we want to believe you, you have no proof. Do you?"

My mother shook her head. I wanted to scream.

"So we have only your word," Batsheva went on.

I wanted to tear her a new one.

"You understand how this looks, sounds," she finished.

Mom was drained, done. I wanted to die.

"I have known you most of my life," Batsheva said. "Since we were girls together. You have always been a woman of integrity, we all know that," she turned to the other witches, "don't we?"

Murmured assent. At least they weren't going to throw us on the Samhain fire. Things were looking up.

"Miriam," Batsheva went on, "you have served this coven faithfully until now. But, I think it's more than obvious to everyone you can no longer fulfill that role."

A moan from many throats. She had spoken it, said the words that made the thought on everyone's mind real. I choked on tears, turned to Mom, desperate. Surely she would fight back. Wouldn't she?

Not this time. My mother stood frozen and quiet. I worried she was taken again. But the eyes raised to mine were hers. I figured out about a heartbeat too late what she planned to do and why.

To protect my sister, to protect me and Gram and Dad, Miriam Hayle made the ultimate sacrifice.

"My coven," she said. "What say you? Am I still leader or do you choose another?"

A wave of shock turned to fear turned to agreement. Celeste stepped forward.

"We choose another," she said.

Mom, my amazing mother, simply stepped back.

"Done," she said, and it was.

At first, there was nothing, held breath and total quiet. The power, our family power, began to gather about her, glowing ropes of blue and amber, twining around itself as it came. It coiled, her body buried in the pulsing column embracing her, a living, breathing thing that made Miriam Hayle who she was. I saw her expression change as she forced it from her, face crumpling in despair.

I could only imagine the pain it caused her.

It rose from her, came off in a wave, but didn't leave her completely. She staggered as it separated from her, the thin touch of its tail wrapped firmly around her left wrist, anchored. I felt the brush of it as it flowed past me, inhaled its sweet breath of fresh earth and flowers. I smelled the distinct aroma of lilac.

It wound its way through the crowd, passing through the broken coven, a flaming ghost. It brushed a witch here, a witch there, but didn't settle. In fact, it seemed to be struggling in its search, trying to retreat over and over to the form of its owner. She held it off despite its wishes and it finally relented. I watched as it slid around Celeste, lighting her face with its brilliant glow, heard my mother whisper. It moved on to circle Erica. I knew then Mom guided it, making the best choice she could under the circumstances. Despite my concern for her, I knew she was doing her best to keep us safe.

The column of gold and blue bumped against Erica, nuzzling her like a puppy. I felt Mom's relief. I also felt her let go. The thin wisp that kept her tied to it slipped away. The family magic dove at its target.

There was a surge out of nowhere. The collected energy seemed to divert as it flew to its choice. It crossed the last few feet and instead plunged into Batsheva Moromond like she called it to her.

No way. Batsheva, the new leader? It had to be a set up. The final lash that drew the column to her was no coincidence. I thought more and more that the Moromonds had to have something to do with the traitor. But now that she was leader... I stepped up to my mother and took her arm. She leaned on me, feeling somehow smaller, more frail than she ever had before. When she looked up at me, the woman I knew was gone with the power of the coven.

On the other hand, Batsheva glowed.

"My friends," she said, voice full with the magic, "my thanks for choosing me. I am honored by your faith. You will not live to regret it, I assure you."

Odd choice of words but I ignored her. I was too focused on my mom.

She had ideas for that, too.

"Miriam Hayle," Batsheva said, "I hereby banish you from the coven and rename it. Strength and light to the Moromond Coven."

"Strength and light," came the heavy murmur.

"We shall repair our bonds, heal our wounds, rebuild stronger than ever."

Sounded like empty words to me, but I wasn't with the program any more. By banishing my mother, she effectively cut Meira, Gram and I off too.

The circle collapsed. We were no longer a part of it anyway. I couldn't stand being there any longer. I wanted to get my mother out. Everyone made a big deal out of not watching us as I guided Mom out of the pentagram, away from the family she used to lead, past people I knew my whole life who now couldn't even meet my eyes. As we stepped past the last burnt out candle. I heard Batsheva start to give orders and draw her witches to her. I hated them all so much, blamed them for their betrayal.

I hoped the traitor took them after all.

I felt a tiny hand grab my sweater hem and I knew Meira was with us. But it wasn't until I had us at the Mustang that I heard my grandmother start to cackle and knew Gram followed too.

"Great party," she rolled her eyes, smacking her lips with drool running over her chin.

"Yeah," I said. "Great. Meira," I turned to my quietly weeping sister. "Can you help Gram get in the back?"

Meira left me to go to Gram. I steered Mom to the passenger seat. It was a testament to the state she was in she didn't argue about me driving her car. I worried, not to scratch it up or anything, but because I only started to learn to drive and wasn't sure if I could get us all home in one piece. My luck, we'd get pulled over. But there was no way I was letting any of them near my mother and she couldn't drive, so I was it.

I climbed into the driver's seat and fixed the rear view with shaking hands. Gram leaned forward, staring intently at me through the mirror, her hands grasping me from where she sat behind me.

"Darkness is here," she said.

"Gram..." I tried to pull free but she wouldn't look away.

"More to come," she whispered. "More to go. Soon, light loses..."

She let me go, leaning back in her seat, rocking herself. I thought she went back to wherever it was she did in her crazy world. Meira still cried. I almost missed the words Gram whispered under her humming. I focused on her lips in the mirror. I made her out and my blood ran cold.

"Light loses," she said over and over, "darkness wins."

I turned on the radio so I wouldn't have to hear.

***

# Chapter Thirty Two

I'm pretty sure I broke almost every driving rule and traffic law out there on that ride home. But luck was with us. The road was quiet. We avoided the police and the Mustang still had an intact transmission by the time I pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition.

Not that I planned to kiss the pavement or anything, but I was happy to be home.

Mom stayed silent on the drive. Aside from the soft crying that eased as Meira hiccupped her way to exhaustion and the hum of the radio, the car was quiet. Even Gram stopped her endless chanting, something I was grateful for.

I managed to get my mother out of the car and into the house. It was so still, it seemed like even the house knew we didn't belong there anymore.

I maneuvered Mom into a chair and turned to Meira and Gram.

"Meira," I said softly, "stay with Mom, okay?"

She climbed up into Mom's lap as I led Gram through the house to her room. She followed, more docile than I had ever seen her. I left her there, sitting on her bed, still rocking and rocking.

I went back to the kitchen.

"Mom," I said, "we have to talk."

She shook her head, arms clasping Meira tightly to her.

"Mom," I tried again. "Please, talk to me."

She stood, dumping Meira on the floor, eyes wild but empty of power.

"Talk?" She said, her voice harsh. "Talk about what, Syd? It's gone, the power's gone! You don't care, you never wanted it, how can you understand? You don't understand..." she drifted off. "You'll never understand."

But I did. I totally got it. She gave up the only life she ever knew, the very thing she was born to do, and now she was completely empty. I could feel it in her, like a huge, gaping wound. I would have done anything to help her heal.

Instead, I let her leave the kitchen, heard her drag herself up the stairs. I shut my eyes at the sound of her closing bedroom door. I stood there, trying to make sense of what happened. I failed miserably. I think I would have curled up on myself like Mom did if it hadn't been for Meira.

Her tiny hand slipped into mine and the spell, the last gift my mother gave me, woke me up. I knew above everything else, I had to keep my sister safe.

"Syd," she said, tears starting again. "What's going to happen to us?"

I lifted her up and carried her into the dark living room. I sat on the wide sofa with her in my arms and held her, stroking her hair.

"It's okay," I said. "I'll take care of you, Meems. I'll take care of everything."

"What about Mom?" She snuffled and wiped at her face with her sleeve.

"She'll be okay too," I lied. "She just needs some time to adjust."

"I can't feel her very well anymore," Meira whispered.

I drew a deep breath. "I know," I said.

"Does that mean she's not a witch anymore?" She asked.

"I don't know," I told her. "But she's still our mother."

"Yeah," she said. "She is."

We sat in the dark for quite a while, clinging to each other, trying to forget what we had been through.

It wasn't long before Meira fell asleep. I didn't have the energy to carry her upstairs. I laid her on the sofa and spread a blanket over her, brushing her hair back as a soft curl fell on her cheek. I left her there, decision made before I knew I made it.

I went to the basement. I stood in the pentagram of the silent, dead house and felt around. My mother's magic was gone, fading like old perfume in the air of that quiet place. It was the first time I fully grasped how much of my mother went into everywhere we stayed. No matter where we went, no matter how many times we moved, the house we lived in always felt like home. As I stood there in the dark, damp basement smelling of mold and age, for the first time I sensed nothing, no connection, no warmth, only that I didn't belong there and never would again.

I stood there and just felt it. After a moment I pushed it aside. Time to do something about it, if I could. I went to my father's statue and looked up at him, his stone likeness as cold as the house. I reached out and touched him, running my fingers over the rough grain of the granite that made him, feeling nothing. I took a deep breath to calm myself and tried something I never thought I would.

I summoned my demon and called Haralthazar.

As my demon came to me, a crippling wave of nausea tried to hold me back. I shoved it aside, refusing to let it stop me as I reached and reached, finding the edge of the doorway that was his statue, feeling for him, calling him as I had seen my mother do so many times before. She made it seem easy, but of course she had a magic bond with him to expedite matters. But, so did I. The demon within me should have been all the connection I needed.

The gate cracked open but before it could widen I met with a barrier. It was like struggling against a curtain, a thick, textured veil of something wet and heavy that never quite seemed to part. It flexed and flowed around my power. I pushed harder and the curtain gave but stretched and didn't tear. I'm not sure whose idea it was to cut it, but I think it was my demon. She sliced through the veil and for a brief and tantalizing moment the door was open and I brushed the edges of my father. We connected.

He wasn't in Demonicon. And he wasn't here, either. He floated in some sort of limbo between the planes, trapped and unable to speak to me. But he made it very clear we were in real trouble. I hoped he would be able to come to our rescue, somehow, to help Mom, restore her maybe, and help me find Uncle Frank and Sass. But I understood as we touched in that moment of stretched forever that Dad was in magical chains, a prisoner to the traitor. Worse yet, his strength was being siphoned out of him to feed something larger, something horrible. Despite our brief contact, I couldn't help him any more than he could help me.

I was thrown from his touch by that great power, the same power I felt before, tinted green and with the flavor of the forest. My demon snarled as we were hurled back to my plane and sent crashing into my body. I collapsed to the floor of the basement, beaten down for the second time that night. This time I stayed there for a while, and cried.

I let the tears leak freely from my eyes and down my face into my hair, not even bothering to try to wipe them away. Why should I? There was no use in anything anymore, no future, no help coming, no glimmer that something would happen to make it all better. I was lost, my parents were lost. There was absolutely no hope left.

The Hayle family was no more and there was nothing I could do about it.

I would have lay there forever, I think, if it weren't for the sound of the kitchen door opening, the footsteps on the floor upstairs. I dragged myself to my feet and went up, not wanting to see anyone, but not really having a choice.

I took the last step. I found the Moromonds there as the basement door swung shut behind me. Batsheva and Dominic stood in the kitchen. They seemed very surprised to see me. Batsheva schooled her expression pretty quickly, but I could tell she didn't expect to get caught in our house. Not sure where else she thought we'd go.

Dominic on the other hand, gave me the old once over, his face pinched, piggy eyes furious.

"Sydlynn," Batsheva said smoothly, smiling. "Are you all right, dear?"

What a stupid question. I felt like laughing but didn't have the energy.

"What do you want?" I wasn't in the mood to be gracious, even to the new leader of the coven.

Especially to the new leader of the coven. Yeah, that pissed her off.

"We came to check on you," she snapped, "ungrateful child. And your mother."

"Sure you did," I bit back. "Came to finish us off, you mean."

She scowled at me, all pretense gone. Good. I was sick of the masks and the lying and the fake smiles.

"It's time you learned a little respect," she hissed at me.

"Or what?" I asked.

"Or," she said, "maybe we make sure you and your precious family end up on the street. This is a coven house, Syd. You're not one of us anymore."

I knew she would do it. Sure, we could probably find someone to take us in, but the house, the Hayle fortune, belonged to the coven. Or did it? I knew I'd have to find out and fast. Until then, I begrudged, I'd have to hold my tongue.

"Understood," I said. "What can I really help you with?"

"You can get out of the way," she said

"Mom's asleep," I countered. "I'd rather you didn't bother her right now."

Batsheva laughed. "Oh, Syd," she said, "I'm not here for your mother. I'm here for the power in the basement."

I tensed. My father's statue. No way.

"There's nothing down there anymore," I argued.

"We need to be sure of that," she said. "I need to drain the last of the magic."

"I told you, it's gone," I said as she tried to push past me, putting my body in her way.

"Move," she ordered. "Now."

I didn't. I wouldn't. She snapped her fingers. Dominic came forward.

"Move or he makes you move," she said.

I knew I lost. With no recourse and frustrated beyond belief, I stepped aside. The demon hissed and snarled at me but I pushed her away. Until I figured out what to do next, I couldn't antagonize them. At least, not yet.

I couldn't bear to think of them down there with Dad so I hit the back door. I needed air, just a little air. I couldn't, _wouldn't_ , leave my family alone with them, but I had to have some space to think and the outdoors was always my best place to cool my head. I escaped into the night, and ran right into Quaid.

He caught me and held me when I tried to back away. His face seemed sad, a switch from the cynical smirk he always wore. He glanced over my shoulder at the house before returning his gaze to me. His dark eyes felt bottomless, his magic, a rich, warm, exotic power, gently wrapped around me. I knew I was safe. My demon welcomed him in a rush of golden light. I was lost in that feeling as the walls between us fell for the second time and I felt his absolute regret and fear.

"Syd," he said, "I need to tell you something important."

I shook myself, trying to break free from the wonderful glow of him around me. It felt stronger than the first time outside the diner, deeper, more welcoming, like an offer of something I wasn't sure I was ready for. He always kept himself as guarded as I did, but there was no way to guard against this. With each passing moment I marveled more and more at the connection. I had no idea he was so... endless.

"What?" I asked, dazed. I went through a lot that day and I wasn't exactly focused. Being engulfed in protective energy didn't help a whole lot, either.

He looked over my shoulder again before leaning in, lips over mine, eyes so close I could see the glimmer of the streetlight in them.

"They plan to destroy you," he whispered.

It took a second to sink in. "Who?"

He scowled and shook me, enough to break me free of the spell his magic cast over me. It made me mad.

"Stop it," I said, pulling free, rubbing my arms, realizing they hurt because he was holding me so hard. Now that we were out of physical contact, his power dissipated again, the walls rising to block each other out. I could finally think straight. "What are you talking about?" He needed to stop touching me.

"My _parents_ ," he said it like the words disgusted him. "Miriam was right. There are traitors. And they're it."

"How do you know?" I whispered back, acutely aware the very people we discussed were so close I could feel them.

"I overheard them tonight after the ceremony," he said. "They were celebrating, Syd, actually _celebrating_." Quaid's anger leaked into his eyes. He struggled for control. It didn't take long for his calm to return. "I didn't know. You have to believe me. But I guess there's some old stuff between my mom and your mom and Batsheva's decided to do something about it."

"Some something," I said.

"I guess," he said. "You have to get out of here."

"Why are you warning me?" I didn't trust him despite having been inside his power and mind only moments before. Had we still been connected, maybe. But it was easy to lose that total sense of who he was when I wasn't inside his magic. I was sure then he must have an ulterior motive or maybe they even sent him. I took a step back, even my demon rising to the defensive. I wondered at how quickly and easily she made herself a part of who I was despite all my attempts to keep her out. Nothing like a little life-threatening coven action to bring a girl around.

Quaid's hand reached out to take mine, closing the gap between us, the exchange flowing again. "I'm not like them," he said. "They've been using negative magic, Syd. I want no part in it."

I knew he couldn't lie to me, not with that power flowing over me and through me, weaving its way through mine, making itself at home. Lying in that state was impossible for both of us. My demon purred with contentment as his aura fed her.

I struggled to concentrate.

"I can't leave," I whispered. "What about Meira? Mom? Gram? I won't leave my family, Quaid."

I could tell he was frustrated. "I know. I had to try to warn you anyway. Syd," he let go of my hand, but the connection was still there. I wondered if it was permanent now. "I wanted you to know... because I didn't want you to think I had anything to do with it."

"Why do you care?" I asked him, breathless. How had I not noticed before how sweet his energy was, how lovely and generous, how great he smelled, like chocolate, oddly. How had I missed the draw of his dark eyes, the brightness of his perfect teeth? Or was it the demon in me that made me pay attention all of a sudden?

"I just do," he said, fingers brushing my cheek.

I believed him.

"I have to go," he dropped his hand and stepped away. "I'm sorry, Syd. I wish... I wish I could do more. Take care of yourself."

Quaid disappeared into the darkness. I missed him immediately, missed his warmth around me, the feeling that for once I was not alone. I didn't even get a chance to thank him before he vanished from sight.

***

# Chapter Thirty Three

A strong hand gripped my arm and spun me around. I was face-to-face with Brad. It took me a minute to comprehend what was going on as my two lives overlapped, giving him ample time to speak his mind.

"I don't get it," he snapped, angry and hurt, radiating it like a broadcast signal so even my demon shrank away in guilt. "I try to be your friend, more than your friend and you don't care! I gave up my whole life because of you, Syd, my friends, pissed off my dad, my coach! And what do you do? Ditch me for some other guy!" He shook he was so mad.

Um, what? Since when? It's not like we were officially dating or anything.

I pulled my arm free. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you." There was a desperation in his eyes that worried me. It went way past anything he should be feeling. Unless he was the kind of guy who fell for girls who stood him up?

"Not good timing." I felt terrible about it but I had way bigger stuff going on than him at the moment. "Besides, I thought you were with Suzanne."

His face fell as he stepped away from me. "Yeah, right," he said. "Like I'd jump into a relationship with another Alison."

"You were with her," I still struggled to switch to normal girl mode, so wrapped up in the mess I was in I could barely focus. "With the pops. You were a bully, Brad, just like them."

His head dropped. The anger drained out of him. I wanted to hug him and tell him it was going to be okay.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I went to him and put my hand on his arm. The demon part of me grumbled, vaguely disappointed there was no answering blanket of power.

I ignored it. "I am too," I said. "Really. But, my family..." I glanced at the dark house, noticing the kitchen light turn on. I felt the draw of that life more powerfully than I ever had despite my best intentions. "Things are really rough right now," I whispered. "And I need to go back."

I turned away from him, but he caught me.

"I don't know what to do, Syd," he said, face hovering over mine, hands covering the developing bruises Quaid left behind. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"You have to go," I said as gently as I could. I wasn't about to let the Moromonds catch me with Brad. I had no idea what they would do, but I knew they would find a way to use him against me. I didn't want to put him in that position.

"I can't," he said. "I can't go, Syd. I don't know what it is, but there is something about you I can't let go."

I felt along the edges of his aura with a lump in my throat. Why hadn't I seen it before? Brad Peters, football star and All-American boy, had a gift. Not full-blown and certainly not strong, but a gift nonetheless. His power was latent, sleeping, but awake enough it recognized me and what I was. I knew it happened sometimes, that normals were born with a hint of what we had, but I never experienced it before. It was quite likely he would never be able to conjure magic, but the tiny spark within him wanted to be fed. Because of it, he was drawn to me like a moth to a flame.

That was the last thing I needed right then.

"Brad," I said. "You need to go, please."

Instead of listening, he kissed me.

His lips were soft, softer than I ever imagined a boy's lips would be, but firm underneath where they pressed against his teeth. His warm breath tasted like cinnamon gum. It filled my mouth. I melted toward him, not meaning to, giving in to something amazing and open and pure. I kissed him back. For that brief slice of forever, I forgot everything but the joy of it.

When he pulled away, I was breathless.

"Do you still want me to go?" He whispered over my mouth.

I didn't, so help me, but he had to. I did the hardest thing I did all night to that sweet boy who just wanted to be with me.

"Yes," I choked.

I don't think he believed what I said but I put it in my eyes, in my stance, in my face, in my very energy and let him experience that he wasn't welcome.

He stepped away, releasing me, head bowed.

"Okay," he said. "Bye, Syd."

It was all I could do not to call after him as he left me alone in the dark of my back yard to face the emptiness that had become my life.

I dragged myself to the bench, and cried myself clean.

When the sobbing eased, I struggled to pull myself together. But, seriously, what sixteen-year-old is in a stable enough mental and emotional place to handle that much crap in such a short period of time? I deserved a few tears, thank you very much.

But, I was also practical and knew if anyone was going to help us, it had to be me. No one else was going to ride to the rescue. Even if helping us meant settling us in a normal life without magic anymore, then that was what I was going to do.

I pulled my legs up and rested my chin on my knees, staring at the glittering stars. I thought of my mother. I scowled and sat up straight. I was not, repeat _not_ , giving up that easily. I was a _Hayle_ , damn it, we all were, and Hayle witches did not quit no matter what. I gathered myself. Even if it meant turning into Gram, I took her example. You did everything you could to protect your family, even if you had to die to do it. Or go nuts.

I didn't plan to do either.

What was that sound? The kitchen door? Maybe the Moromonds were finally leaving. It wasn't until then I heard multiple voices in the house, more than just Batsheva and Dominic. Something was happening while I was out here battling boys, guilt and fear.

Enough of this crap. I made my decision to act.

I stormed inside and down the back hall, past the stairs and into the kitchen, landing smack-dab in the middle of a crucifixion in which my mother was the target.

The room overflowed with people, a few of the more powerful witches conspicuously absent. Still, there were enough of them there that the power swirled around wildly as they struggled to focus. I knew then how much my mother's strength was the real core of the coven and wondered how long it would take them to self-destruct with Batsheva Moromond at the reins.

Speaking of which, she spewed lies with her back to me. I stopped in the threshold to listen.

"Here is your proof," she held out something to the gathering. I shifted position to see. Was that a knife?

The coven breathed as one. I felt a thread of subtle magic escape, sliding around me like the coil of a snake, trying to draw me into its influence. The demon snarled, sending the coil back in a snap. Batsheva controlled them. It wouldn't matter what she showed them, what they saw or heard, she manipulated them, holding them in thrall, corrupting the core to subjugate the entire family.

Or not, I thought. After all, not everyone was there, were they? Who stood against the Moromonds? What happened to them?

Batsheva turned as she sensed me. I flinched in horror when I saw Meira held in front of her. The protective spell slapped me in the face. Batsheva's bulk hid my sister from me, her presence glossing over the demon girl. Meira wasn't in any real danger or I would have been compelled to help her, but seeing her under the physical control of _that woman_ was enough to trigger it. My demon screamed in fury and reached out, tearing through the subtle weave, pulling Meira free.

She ran to me. I hugged her to me as I faced Batsheva. I saw my mother, my weakened and empty mother, being held in a chair by two people.

I thought the demon was angry before. I had to shout at her to calm her down, struggling to regain control while the others watched, a cold sweat bathing me as I trembled and fought to stay upright when a wave of dizziness took me. Batsheva smiled in satisfaction.

"Get out," I managed through clenched teeth. "All of you. Leave us alone."

Batsheva turned in a circle, reconnecting with every witch in the room. "More evidence," she said. "The Hayle family are practitioners of negative magic and have been destroying this coven and all we hold dear."

I barked a laugh and felt the thread of her control weaken while my own steadied and stabilized. Even with her power manipulating them, the assembly knew us, knew my mother. They struggled with the idea, rejecting it. It was taking all the strength Batsheva had to keep them in check and I was getting in her way.

Too bad, so sad.

"What evidence?" I snapped. "What proof?" Not knowing what else to do, I pushed my demon against the veil of control where she clawed and spit at the power that kept it whole. "Do any of you really believe Miriam Hayle could ever be a practitioner of negative magic?"

I was winning them over and Batsheva knew it. She held the knife up again.  
"This was hidden," she declared, "in the basement, buried under the statue of their unholy alliance."

I shrugged. "A knife? So what?"

She spun on me. "A knife," she stressed, "with blood still on it."

The coven gasped and for a moment I froze. She was making a massive accusation. The use of blood or negative magic was punishable by death. Unpredictable and utterly evil, blood magic sucked at the soul until it ran dry, destroying everything it touched.

My anger surged at the urging of my demon.

"You lying bitch," I snarled. "If anyone is using negative magic, it's you."

The thread weakened further, stretched thin as my demon slashed her way toward the power Batsheva hadn't yet had time to master. I felt the head of the snake grow close. I let the demon do what she did best.

She reached out with a howl of fury and cut it free.

Several things happened at once. Mom tried to stand, her hand reached out toward me while the entire gathering breathed a huge breath of fresh energy and flushed away the last of the control Batsheva tried to hold over them. The Moromonds turned on me, fury in their faces. My demon retreated back to me, still writhing in anger but more content now she was able to act.

"I don't believe it," Louisa spoke up first, shaking her head. "Not Miriam. Never Miriam."

"She's right," James moved forward as though to shield my mother with his body. His very pregnant wife Sandra followed him. In fact, with the spell broken, the entire body of assembled witches moved as one to form a protective shield around Mom, their faces angry and appalled to find themselves in the position they made.

"Enough," I heard that soft voice speak. My heart leapt as my mother, shaking and weak, parted the crowd and stepped forward. "I am perfectly able to defend myself."

I wanted to cheer and jump up and down and make rude gestures at the Moromonds but I held still.

"Fools," Batsheva snarled at them, at my mother. "You just needed to sleep for a little while longer. Now this will be much harder for you than it has to be."

"I'm taking my power back now," Mom said simply. "With or without your co-operation."

The family around her gathered and focused on Batsheva Moromond.

And then they froze, all of them, Mom included. They were motionless, senseless, trapped in a spell they were too weakened to break, held by their own anger and fear that brought them to this place. If they only trusted in my mother and resisted the call to doubt, they would never have been brought so low.

As a whole, they made all the wrong choices. Their insecurities stripped the coven clean.

I watched, feeling around the edges but unable to find a weakness before realizing their own energy was being used, like the spell that trapped the Vegas, to feed what held them. They would stand there, frozen, until released or until the very last whisper drained from them and they died.

That was when I realized I was free. And, from the clutching of the little hands in mine, so was Meira. I felt the tight weave of the protection spell Mom had cast over us, the promise to protect my sister humming to life, vibrating around me. The power she put into it protected us like a shield.

"Let them go!" I yelled. Both Batsheva and Dominic spun on us, her eyes going very wide with shock.

"Not possible," she whispered. She struck at us, but the shield Mom built held and grew stronger.

"Your power doesn't work on us," I said. "Now let them go."

Batsheva battered herself on our shield, furious, desperate to destroy it. I knew as I felt her beat uselessly against us the reason Mom was weakened and unable to resist was because part of her stayed with us, surrounding us, holding us and keeping us safe. My mother knew, somehow, that even she would be worn down if she stood and fought. She would have been able to protect the coven longer if she kept her magic. But, she also knew despite her best efforts, she would ultimately fail. She made a choice, to save her daughters, to shield us and keep us from harm, at the expense of her own survival.

I cried, holding my sister, knowing what Mom gave to save us, and clung to that part of my mother like a lifeline.

Batsheva stopped her attack so swiftly I swayed, not knowing I held myself tense and stiff. She breathed heavily, more from anger than effort. She turned to Dominic.

"Fine," she hissed. "If we can't take them with magic..."

She spun back to me as Dominic took the knife from her and started to move toward us. I froze, holding Meira, terrified. I knew the spell wouldn't protect us from a physical attack and from the way he held the knife, Dominic knew how to use it.

Terrified, over-tired, battered and beaten, overwhelmed at last, I stood there and watched him come.

***

# Chapter Thirty Four

I don't know if I would have stayed there and let Dominic take us at knifepoint, but I didn't get to find out.

The part of the shield generated by our mother seized on the scorching power of my demon and freed her to act.

My demon roared. Everything went to slow motion. I barely took the time to bend as I simultaneously lifted Meira into my arms and spun, taking the hallway at a dead run from a full stop before I even had a chance to know I moved. I had no idea what was happening behind me and really didn't care.

Time sped up back to normal as I slammed open the front door and hit the sidewalk running, Meira clutched desperately to my chest. I didn't know where I was going, what I would do when I made it there or even how I would figure any of that out. All I could focus on, breathe in, feel in every corner of me, was flight.

If it hadn't been for the spell of protection, I would have stayed behind to fight. But the compulsion to protect my sister was so powerful I had to get away, get us away, and consider our options later.

We made it six blocks before I even thought about slowing. I glanced back over my shoulder but there was no one there, no panting Dominic Moromond with his bloody knife chasing us down the street, no thread of snake-like magic pursuing us.

Still, I ran some more. And some more. I ran until my lungs ached, my breath came in short, heavy panting gasps, until Meira's weight threatened to drive me to my knees.

I finally ground to a halt in an unfamiliar part of town, collapsing on a bench with my sister still clinging to me. I tried to get my breath as I listened to her cry.

"We have to go back!" Her little arms unwound from around my neck so she could pound on my chest with her delicate fists.

I didn't even have the strength to stop her. "Meems, we can't," I said, speaking an effort. "We can't."

"We have to!" She struggled with me. I let her go. She hit her feet and grabbed my hand, trying with her whole body weight to pull me up from the bench.

I let her struggle as I caught my breath and wondered what the hell I was going to do.

I briefly considered going to Alison's, but dropped that idea pretty quick. There was no way I could involve normals in our mess. I was at a total loss. Batsheva still controlled the coven. Now that she trapped my mother, there was no one left to fight her. I was pretty sure the missing Celeste and Erica already fell victim to her themselves. I had a brief pang as I admitted I abandoned Gram to the Moromonds but knew the spell wouldn't have let me stop for her.

I pulled against Meira who grunted with the effort to make me get up. I manhandled her back into my lap and hugged her until she fell still.

"Meems," I whispered into her hair. "We can't go back."

"I know," she whispered back, face buried in my shirt. "What are we going to do?"

I had no idea what to say.

The screeching of tires saved me from having to come up with an answer. A shiny silver Volvo rocked to a halt as Jared roared up and jumped out of the car. I leapt to my feet, ready to run, Meira clinging to me.

"Syd!" He stopped on the edge of the sidewalk, hands up, expression distressed. "It's okay, Syd. It's just me."

"So what," I snapped. "It's you, Jared. And we're supposed to trust you just like that?"

He backed off. "Okay, yeah, right. Sorry. You have no reason to trust any of us right now, do you?"

"Not really, no," I told him.

"I know," he held out his hands again, eyes pleading. "But, please, Syd. You have to come with me."

"Why?" I was ready to run all night if I had to. But something about the way he asked made me pause.

"Because," he said. "There is no one else."

I reached out to him, felt around his edges, but he was clean, or at least as clean as Jared ever felt.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"For help," he said. "There's another coven near here, a couple of towns over. They aren't as powerful as ours, but..." he trailed off. "Maybe they can do something."

I didn't point out our family wasn't exactly as strong as it used to be either. Instead, I debated.

"Syd," he said. "Please."

I wavered. I couldn't run forever. I had to find somewhere safe for Meira. For both of us. His idea sounded like a good one. If we could get word to the High Council about the Moromonds, maybe they could send some Enforcers to help. The thought of having those steely, hardened warrior witches sweep in and take out Batsheva and Dominic gave me a shiver of pleasure. Besides, this was Jared. I knew him, liked him. I could trust him. Couldn't I?

"Have you contacted them yet?" I asked him.

"No," he said. "I wasn't sure if calling was a good idea. I figured it would be best to see them in person."

He was right. There was no way they would believe the Hayle coven was so completely torn apart. We were too powerful for that.

I stood there with the weight of my little sister in my arms, torn. The problem was, as much as I wanted to do it, the spell made it harder to choose. It wasn't just my own welfare I was worried about. I had Meira's to guard too. Finally, I made my mind up and hoped my decision was the right one.

"All right," I said to him, feeling calmer now that I had a plan. "Let's go."

Jared's face shone with relief. He went to the passenger door and opened it for me. I climbed in with Meira still in my arms and pulled the seatbelt over both of us. Jared climbed in the driver's side and started the engine.

"It won't take long," he said. "I'll drive fast."

I tipped my head back against the seat, feeling the tension drain from me as he hit the gas. This was Jared, our Jared, Erica's Jared, trusted, loved and my friend. We were safe with him. I rubbed Meira's back over and over as the streetlights flashed by, emptying my mind, trying to rest.

I felt her body tense. She was still pressed to me, her face over my shoulder. What I saw in her eyes made me afraid.

"Syd," she whispered. Her gaze flickered into the back. I took a deep breath and braced myself. I looked quickly before I lost my nerve.

A heavy wool blanket covered most of the seat, but it was oddly shaped, almost lumpy. It took time for my brain to recognize there was something under the covering, something long and shaped like a person.

The next streetlight caught the gloss of Erica's staring eyes. I couldn't help myself. I started to scream.

***

# Chapter Thirty Five

I would have kept screaming, until my mind went, until I couldn't breathe. It was too much, way too much. I went through hell and found myself right back in it. For the first time since the whole thing started I fell apart and let myself go.

I don't know if I would have gotten myself stopped if Jared hadn't snapped me out of it.

He jerked the wheel hard to the left, digging the seatbelt into me, throwing me into the car door.

"Syd!" He yelled. "Stop!"

I did. The final betrayer was Jared. It had been Jared all along. He had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"Hold it together," he snapped.

I started to laugh, a choking sound torn from my sore lungs and throat.

"You're kidding, right?" I said. "You're really freaking kidding me."

"I'm sorry, Syd. But, there are bigger things happening here than you know about. Darker things. And I haven't had a choice from the moment it all started."

"We always have a choice," Meira whispered. I, for one, agreed with her.

"That's right, Jared," I said. "Only cowards use that excuse."

His face twisted with something I didn't recognize. His hands flexed on the wheel so hard his fingers went white. But when he spoke, his voice held steady.

"You can think what you want," he said. "But it doesn't change the fact I have to give you up to them. The decision's been made. I'm sorry."

He seemed to be saying that a lot. "Sure you are," I said. How had I been so stupid, so blind?

"You have no idea," he replied, so softly I almost missed it.

He slowed at a stop sign. I reached for the door handle. He sped up again, running it. He shot me a glare that said he knew what I was thinking.

"Don't bother," he said. "The doors are locked from my side."

Crap. I hadn't noticed when he did that. I gritted my teeth.

"Where are we really going?" I asked him.

"To the site," he said.

Meira's eyes were huge. "Is she dead?" Her voice was barely a whisper. She refused to look at the back seat.

Jared tried his charming routine. I would never trust a smile like that again for the rest of my life.

"Just asleep," he said. "Honest."

I reached out anyway and felt some relief at the steady _da-dum_ of Erica's heart.

I knew I had to do something to save us. Despite my usual reservations, I pulled in my demon as we approached a red light, knowing if I hit him while we were going slower I'd have a better chance of keeping Meira and I safe. I couldn't care less about him. And I couldn't worry about Erica.

As he hit the brakes, I lashed out with all the power I could muster, my demon leaping out to shred him to bits.

She slid over and off of him like oil on water.

I was so stunned my attack failed I almost missed the red glow in his eyes. He grinned.

In a rush of recovered memory, I recognized that grin, those eyes, that shaggy black hair, only it dawned on me the last time it was on something way more furry.

Jared was the black dog. I knew then he was the traitor all along. He was a member of our coven for well over a year, a young, eager witch fresh from another family, wanting a new start. Erica adored him. They started dating right away. He injected himself into our lives, our hearts, our power and used it against us ever since.

"You've been following me," I said.

"You were the only one who was a wild card," he answered. "They had no way of knowing if you could counteract me. Now we know you can't."

"What are you?" I asked. "You're not human, I know that now." The film of power I identified as Jared dissolved like a skim of water down the sides of a glass. His public mind was a carefully constructed mask. What emerged made my demon howl in frustration.

The green magic was his.

"No, not human," he answered. "Does it really matter?"

"It does to me," I said.

"I'm Fay." His voice grated harsh.

No wonder he was able to hide from us. "A fairy? But, there's no such thing anymore." Fairy magic was rumored to be undetectable to human practitioners.

So why then could I feel it?

My demon shoved that faint question away, her unhappiness surging inside me.

Jared laughed, but it came out bitter.

"No, not Sidhe," he said, "not a fairy. Fay. One of their slaves, a tool they use."

"I don't understand," I said. My fairy history studies had fallen to the wayside with the rest of my training. Now I wished I paid more attention. If I embraced who I was in the first place none of this would have happened. The knowledge stabbed me in the heart as he answered.

"You aren't meant to," he said. "Syd, the Sidhe exist, the fairy high council exists. But this isn't their doing."

"The Moromonds," I said.

"Yes," he said. "The Moromonds. They supplied the power I needed to hide among you, to shield what I really am. You touched the edges of it a few times, enough I was forced to take steps."

The wards on Gram's door. The black dog sightings that just happened to occur every time something bad was going down. It made total sense now.

"Why, Jared?" I demanded. "Why are you doing this?"

"Batsheva has never been satisfied with the power she was born with," he avoided the question, answering another. "I don't know if you are aware, but she has hated Miriam since they were little girls."

"I didn't," I said. But hadn't Uncle Frank tried to warn me?

"She is so jealous of what your mother has, of her status and influence, she went a little crazy with it. She started out wanting to destroy Miriam, but it's become so much more since then."

He shuddered beside me.

"She scares you," I said, knowing it was true, feeling it.

"She should scare you, too," he said. "Her plans have grown so big, so dark..." he trailed off, unable to go on.

"You disagree with what she's doing," I began to see a way out if I could convince him.

"Of course," he said.

"Then why are you still helping them?" I repeated the question. "Why don't you help us?"

"Because," he growled. The red glow returned to his eyes as the black dog stared out at me, "I already told you. I can't. I have no choice."

"Explain it to me," I said. "Because from where I'm sitting you have lots of choices, Jared."

"It's not that simple," he argued. "She raised me."

"Sorry?" From what?

"Sleep," he answered. "She called me from my sleep and bound me to her with an offer I couldn't refuse. And now, for better or worse, she owns me and will until I get you and your sister to the site."

"You can't be freed, Jared," Meira whispered. She sounded so sad. "You know the Sidhe won't let you go."

Jared refused to answer.

"He used to be human," she told me. "A long time ago. But he was very bad and the fairies are making him pay for it. Like Sassy. Only he isn't a good guy, are you, Jared?"

The truth dawned. "You aren't who you are by choice?" He didn't answer but I made the intuitive leap. "And Batsheva offered you what you've wanted since the Sidhe punished you. A way to be human again."

Jared snarled at me, but he wasn't angry, not really. There was too much frustration in him for that. "She seems to think she can. She convinced me she can. I have to believe..."

"And if she can't?" I prodded. "If she was lying? What if she can but decides not to, Jared? Do you really trust Batsheva Moromond to honor the agreement she made with you? After everything she's done?"

He was so quiet I didn't think he would answer. So, when he spoke, Meira and I both jumped.

"She has to," he whispered. "Because if she doesn't..."

"What, you'll destroy her?" I made a face. "I think she's past even your power, now."

"No," he said. "Not me. I won't have to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. But we were turning and I sensed we were at the site. He wasn't going to say anymore with Batsheva so close.

The black dog faced me down.

"Don't give me any trouble," he said. "Or I'll make sure your sister suffers for it."

I glared right back. "You can't touch us," I answered.

A searing pain tore through me as Jared's fairy magic penetrated my mother's shield and left me gasping for air.

"You can't fight me, Syd," he said. "Don't even try."

Jared climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. I took the brief moment I had alone with my sister to whisper in her ear.

"First chance you get," I said as I watched Jared reached for the door handle on the other side of the glass, "run, Meira."

Jared hauled open the car door.

"Everybody out," he said.

I unhooked the seatbelt, clutching my sister to me as we left the car. I felt her struggle and set her down. She held my hand, her face a mask behind her demon.

We followed Jared toward the pentagram without being told.

When only the burnt out remains of the bonfire remained between us and the circle, Meira broke away and started to run. I saw our mother standing there, clearly free of the spell. She lifted my sister up into her arms and held her tight.

I would have kept walking if I hadn't just crossed the threshold. I felt what powered it. My heart stopped. I looked up.

Uncle Frank and Sunny hung over me, staked to two huge crosses. They were both very pale, worse even than when they first woke. If I didn't know they were vampires I would have thought they were dead. Both looked pristine, despite the fact their blood ran from multiple wounds to the ground to seal the spell.

I would have cried if I had any tears left. They were both unconscious. I knew they would have put up a fight given the chance. It had to be a sleep forced on them before they had a chance to rise. I glared at Jared as he crossed to Batsheva, standing outside the circle. Dominic stood beside her. So did Quaid.

"Welcome, girls," Batsheva said. "We only need one more and the whole family is here."

I ignored her and went to my mother. Mom released my sister and reached for me. I felt her arms go around me. I clutched at her like a child, burying my face in her hair.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I failed, Mom."

"No," she whispered back. "You didn't. I love you."

Her sweet, soft smile made me feel better than I should have, considering. No matter what happened now, no matter what Batsheva planned for us, we were together and would face it as one.

I glanced at Meira. She clutched something pale and damaged to her chest. I knelt next to her and met the glowing yellow eyes of Sassafras. He looked horribly injured, most of his fur missing, bloodied and battered, but he was alive and his demon spirit burned within him.

I reached out and gently stroked what was left of the silvery fluff on his tail, feeling more tears come after all.

"Hey, Sass," I said.

"Syd," he whispered in answer.

"I'm sorry," I told him, sorry I hadn't been able to save him that night.

He growled under his breath. "Don't be. The dog would have gotten you, too."

Furious, I glared at Batsheva.

"Why?" I screamed at her. "What do you want?"

She laughed from the other side of the shell that held us.

"I would think that would be obvious by now," she said.

I made it to my feet. "This is about more than power."

"It used to be," she agreed. "It started as revenge on Miriam. Oh yes," she beamed at my mother's confusion, "that's right, my dear. I hate you. I always have hated you. You with your perfect face, your perfect life, your perfect everything." Her voice fell to a hiss. I had an uncomfortable instant remembering I thought about my mother that way myself.

"You were my friend," Mom said.

"I was your shadow," Batsheva snapped. "Until now."

She stretched her arms out and fed from the circle. I felt my demon shriek as she weakened.

"Batsheva, you have to stop," Mom said. "Your soul will be lost forever for this."

"My soul," Batsheva snarled, "is none of your concern. Besides, if this works the way it's meant to I'll never have to worry about my soul, Miriam, because I will live forever."

Jared stepped up beside her. I wasn't surprised he couldn't meet my eyes.

"How is that possible?" Mom said. "How was any of this possible?"

Batsheva turned to Jared who refused to look at her either.

"I think it's time Miriam saw your true form, don't you, _Jared_?" Batsheva stressed his name like it was a joke.

He jerked his head in a nod. A silent apology filled his face.

"Jared?" Mom looked at him without judgment.

As an answer, he started to change. His tall, lean body compressed in height and expanded in width as his clothing faded away. His body swelled as he fell forward onto his hands, his skin filling in with hair thickening into the shaggy black coat I was familiar with. Jared's true form solidified into the massive black dog that haunted me all week.

"Galleytrot," Mom said. His tongue lolled out in answer. Part of me was relieved she knew what he was already.

"Fay," she went on. "Black dog of the Wild Hunt, welcome."

"Thank you," he said. I jumped at the rough wildness of his voice. There was a weird call to it, a pull and a passion that spoke of ancient elements and a very old magic.

"Very good," Batsheva said. "And now, with his help, I have all of you and can finish taking your power for my own."

The Wild Hunt! Batsheva was insane. Even I, uneducated and unwilling, knew of the fury of the ancient Sidhe hunt that had torn apart the known world for centuries. It was a thing of elemental force with a lack of empathy for the plight of those that crossed its path. The Wild had been quieted, sent to sleep by the ruling Fairy council before their own departure from the mortal world a millennia ago. And Batsheva stirred them up again? Might as well try to control a hurricane or tame a tornado. The implications of the waking of the Wild on the normal world were terrifying.

I heard a hiss from behind me. Gram lunged from where she huddled. I hadn't even been aware she was with us, she was so quiet.

Quiet no longer.

"Evil!" She shrieked at them. "Darkness! Betrayers! You will burn in fire and drown in blood and we will dance in your ashes!"

Batsheva recoiled from Gram, but didn't lose her nasty smirk.

"Silence, crazy one, or I'll do it for you."

Gram's eyes rolled in her head, her wild white hair waving around her as if alive.

"Bitch!" She went on. "Coward! I will tear out your heart and feed it to the cleansing flames!"

Batsheva gestured, an ineffectual motion, small and careless. Gram flew back as though struck by a freight train, collapsing in a heap in the center of the circle. Mom went to her, knelt beside her, bringing her mother's head into her lap. I could hear her crying.

"With the oldest magic, I call you," Batsheva said as her power swelled, seizing on Jared's and using it to feed the domed shield around my family. "With the ancient power, I claim you and make you mine."

The draw from my energy turned to a pull. I knelt next to Mom, joined by Meira, still clutching Sassy. My mother reached for my hand over Gram's still form. We huddled together while she drained us dry, knowing we were doomed and helpless.

***

# Chapter Thirty Six

It wasn't until Sassy cried out and I felt the presence of my father I grasped the full extent of what Batsheva planned. She floated the granite effigy of Haralthazar into the circle before closing it tightly behind him. His statue settled in the pentagram, cold and lifeless, but an open vessel for his presence.

Sassafras cried out again, ending in a hissing, snarling growl. He pulled himself free of Meira's arms and dragged his horribly damaged cat body toward the statue, useless back legs lurching along behind him. He worked his way forward with his front paws, claws tearing at the dirt as he went. I wanted to cry at the trail of fresh blood he left behind, to throw a fit, curl up in a ball and make it all go away. But I didn't. I watched our brave and broken Sassafras as he gathered the last of his strength and used it to get to Dad.

The statue warmed, the stone becoming flesh, real, and I knew why they kidnapped Sass. They needed a demon focus, someone to channel the unfamiliar power through, to bring my dad across, unknowing, trusting the feel of Sass, so they could trap him. I knew I was too late to stop that, a whole day too late. He had clearly been under their control since the twins were attacked. That's why Mom hadn't been able to feel him anymore. Batsheva probably used that very surge to fuel what she was doing and form the cage that now held my father prisoner. I wracked my brain as he grew more and more real.

_There must be something I can do_ , I thought. _Anything!_

As Dad's face became mobile, it twisted into a mask of pain.

I'm not sure what Quaid thought he could accomplish, but I was very grateful to him for trying. He spun and threw his power toward his mother, but not at her. He sent a focused beam through the connection between her and the statue. If he was stronger, had a little more time, I know he would have succeeded.

Two things happened at once. Dominic, in the background, struck Quaid in the back of the head with his fist, knocking him to his knees while Batsheva siphoned the homeless energy into herself.

She had the nerve to laugh.

"Bad boy," she said to Quaid who lay groaning on the ground. "You will be punished later."

Because of Quaid's sacrifice, I now had the seeds of an idea but no way to carry it out. From Mom's face she knew what I was thinking. She wasn't any better off than me. I had to find a way to make it work.

"Can you feel it, Miriam?" Batsheva glowed like a small star, her whole body swelling and retracting with the flow of it. "Can you feel my victory at hand? With Haralthazar's magic and that of the Hayle family at my disposal, I am far more powerful than you ever were. But wait," she laughed, "do you know why I chose your precious brother and his aberration to seal the circle?"

"So you could access that source, too," Mom whispered.

Batsheva laughed.

"Oh, but that's not all," Batsheva went on. "No, not nearly. There is one other kind I need, one more type of magic to make me complete, all powerful, immortal."

The big black dog that was Jared Runnel let out a sharp yelp and collapsed.

"Batsheva!" He howled at her, twisting in pain on the ground as her power wrapped around him and started to feed. "What are you doing?"

"What I intended all along, dog," she hissed at him. I knew it was true as much as he did. No time for _I told you so_. She never meant to free him, only to absorb his life force like she was taking ours and keep it for herself. He howled like a wounded wolf and continued to struggle.

"The token of the Sidhe," Mom said. "This cannot happen." She pulled herself to her feet. I knew she was about to try something, anything, to stop Batsheva. She would fail and most probably die in the process.

"You cannot," Mom said. "I will not let you."

Batsheva laughed again, the light so bright I had to squint to see her.

"You have nothing, are nothing. I have taken everything you were, Miriam. It's all mine now, mine and you will never be able to stop me!"

Mom gathered her remaining power. It felt pitiful compared to what she once commanded. I was amazed she was still able to tap in at all. I fed my own waning strength to her but she pushed me away. She threw what remained of her at the bond holding the vampires in thrall.

I knew she was right, knew our best bet was to break the circle, to escape. Still, I couldn't help trying to come up with another way. Maybe it was wishful thinking in a terrible time of impending doom.

I met my grandmother's eyes. Ethpeal Hayle, unbowed witch who defeated the Purity coven and saved her family, looked back at me. She reached out and touched Meira's forehead.

"Your sister," she whispered, "looks like a demon but feels like a human."

I bent over her as I felt my mother struggle above me, trying to understand what Gram was saying. She touched my forehead.

"You look like a human," she said.

I was confused and desperate and wondered if she was really in there after all. But her stare held so steady, so full of intent, I knew she was expending the very last of her own energy to keep herself present long enough to get her message across.

I was just a little slow on the uptake.

"Gram," I whispered. "I don't understand."

"How do you feel?" she asked.

It seemed like such a weird question I focused on it. How did I feel? _How_ did I _feel_?

It hit me like a ton of bricks. I felt like a demon. As the struggle for reality left her, I hugged her and whispered, "thank you" in her ear. Gram dissolved back into insanity.

She tried to warn me all along and I didn't listened. She wanted me to pay attention, but I was too busy or too angry with Mom or too wrapped up in my own crap to get it. But I understood it now.

I felt like a demon and she was pissed off big time.

Mom collapsed, spent, her efforts wasted. She crumpled to the ground, still alive and conscious, but barely.

Batsheva laughed again. Jared, Galleytrot, writhed next to her, the light fading from his huge red eyes. His met mine. There was desperation there, and, finally, a promise.

Time to act.

The demon roared her approval.

***

# Chapter Thirty Seven

I found standing easier than I thought it would be. In fact, now that I understood the rules, I was calmer, more centered, ready to do what I had to do to save my family.

I reached out for Dad and touched his power with mine. He was in agony but shielded me from most of it. I knew it cost him. I pulled back and reached for Jared. I touched the rim of the circle and the vampire blood magic holding me back. I struggled to understand and opened up to let my demon have a look. Through her, we were able to see how we were different, how combined we could break the hold on us. If we only had a source big enough to feed from. That very power source gloated in a ball of light on the other side of the barrier.

"You can't, Syd, can you?" Batsheva goaded me. "Your demon is tied to your father and he can't defend himself, either. It's over and you know it."

She focused her drawing on me. I staggered as she starting pulling my power away. I reached out with my demon. We sliced a thin hole in the circle and managed to get to her. I pulled myself up straight and hit her with everything I had, driving the demon into her.

She laughed at me.

"Found a way through, did you?" She taunted. "But, oh so sad, too weak to do anything about it." Her laugh was more cackle than humor. I could see the insanity the buildup brought to her mind.

It was no use. I may have been able to reach her but I couldn't affect her. At least, I knew, not as I was. Being half human and half demon gave me the ability to sense Jared, to worm my way through his green fairy magic now I knew what it was. Why hadn't I sensed before the subtle touch of nature, the scent of leaves and fresh tilled earth? I still held back, keeping my human self in control while trying to use the demon within me to defeat Batsheva. It was then I understood the only way I would ever have a chance was if I gave myself over totally and completely to the power inside me and let the demon act.

The very thought of it made me cringe, curl up and want to hide, to run, the sheer terror at the chance of losing myself to her battling with my need to save my family. I struggled against her as she fought for control, coming to the same realization as I did at the same time. I pushed at her, but she wasn't having any. I was left with a full-blown war on my hands.

That is, until I felt Dad and Sass in my mind and their gentle, steadying presence. Knowing this was the only hope for my family, feeling them around me, their weakness, I shuddered past the compulsion that blocked me all my life. My will to help them was stronger. I dropped my defenses and let my demon go.

How silly. Why had I fought for so long? The demon within me stood next to me in my body. We merged like we were meant to be one. I felt calm, detached. The barrier wasn't a wall to me anymore. In fact, I could see now the lines feeding it like slender strings connecting the vampires to the circle. I knew exactly what to do, saw the weakness that would defeat Batsheva and with the strength now to do it. I felt a gentle pang of guilt as I reached out and severed her connection to the power from every source at once.

The circle imploded. I felt the magic from it rush past me in a wave, saw the light disperse in a flare of lost energy. Everything in me collapsed. I fell to the ground, spent in that one massive union with my demon. I was left there on the ground, exposed and helpless as the shrieking Batsheva, now normal again with her source cut off too soon, attacked me.

I didn't even have the presence to be afraid. She lashed out with enough hatred left to end my life if not rule the world. I felt her magic lurch toward me to be blocked and dissipated by a solid wall of gold. My father, monstrous in his fury, lashed out and brought the witch to her knees.

The black dog was free. He dragged himself to his feet, shaking his shaggy head to clear it. I watched as my sister's power freed the two vampires and lowered them softly to the earth. Uncle Frank's body settled next to me. As he touched the ground his eyes opened.

"Syd," he whispered.

"Hi, Uncle Frank," I said.

I looked up to the hateful sound of Batsheva's laughter. She was back on her feet, glowing. I was too late. She absorbed enough, it seemed, to stand against even a full-blown demon lord. She lashed out at him. Dad staggered, already weakened by the siphoning that gave her strength. She hit him again and again. I saw my father crumple under the force of her attack, fighting a losing battle that would mean the end of us all if he failed.

He reached for Mom, not for support, but with a wave of love. She threw her new-won power to him—and I blocked her.

Dad looked at me. My demon looked back. I reached out to him, to Jared and touched Uncle Frank all at the same time. Dad's whole being burned with understanding. Alone, we didn't stand a chance.

I was depleted, but I could still be a focus. As they sent everything they had to me, I found I wasn't quite so empty as I thought. My demon mustered her last reserves. Swelling with this new surge of force, the odd sensation of the different types of magic flowing through me, I took control of the witch's sources of power and slammed Batsheva Moromond into the earth.

With her collapse, the stolen magic recoiled. The site fell into total silence, a heartbeat of utter stillness in which I held my breath. The column of blue and amber rose from her in a rush, entwined with the now familiar green Sidhe and the ghostly white of the undead. I felt the wind of its rebirth blow my hair back, crushing my rumpled clothing to me. I squinted as the gusts rose, sending debris flying. The spinning vortex hummed as it spiraled higher and higher, winding tightly together until the whole thing was tinted a soft, sunlit yellow, pulsing like a young star. It sent its power out to engulf us, restore us. I heard Sassy cry out but was too wrapped up in the experience to look his way. My whole body vibrated with it, senses overloaded, and I knew what it was to be immortal.

It wasn't to last. Unable to sustain itself for long, the power began to vibrate, four sources not meant to be bonded shaking into their diverse parts. Feeling the finality of the buildup, I covered my face with my hands just as the volatile core of power reverted and shattered. I felt it pass through me in a hot rush and knew it returned to those it had been stripped from. The missing spirits of the twins and the fallen coven members went back to their bodies, the echoes of their release from the hold Batsheva had on them touching all of us.

It wasn't over yet. To my horror I saw blue, pink, silver and orange magic rise from Batsheva, thin strings, transparent spirits, fleeing toward the sky. These unfamiliar souls sang with relief at their freedom. Their tender thanks brought tears to my eyes. I wondered how far Batsheva's evil spread and if her last coven disbanded after all.

The song faded. I found myself on my feet, once again in the quiet dark, feeling great, fresh, like I just had the best night's sleep of my life. My family experienced the same effects as me. And Sassafras, my fat cat friend, was shiny and whole, his fur intact, Persian body perfect.

He winked one huge yellow eye at me and started to groom himself.

I couldn't help but laugh. Until I saw my father's face. A shiver ran through me at the fear in his eyes. He tried to hide it, but it was too late. I knew what I was able to do was not only unusual, but it was enough to terrify my demon father to the point he let it show.

It triggered my familiar barrier, the one I ignored since the threat to my family forced me to choose magic over what I wanted. Fear slid up my walls like ice, reinforcing them, hardening them beyond my old shields. I tried to ignore the howling of my demon now trapped on the other side. If Dad was afraid of her, so was I. There was no way I would ever let her out again.

Quaid made a grab for Dominic when he attempted to escape. I watched as he manhandled his father into submission. I caught one last look at Dad in time to see him fade from his statue, a sad and troubled expression on his face.

I sat on the hard ground and hugged myself. As much as I wanted to be happy it was all over, I couldn't shake the feeling we hadn't seen the last of big trouble for the family. The power I possessed was a threat to us, as well, I knew, a power that could break out and destroy us if I let it. I tried to forget the feeling of my demon next to me, the knowing I could do anything, have anything and no one would be able to stand in my way if I chose it.

That was so it. At the first opportunity, I was going to make my mother wall up my demon for good, no matter what it took.

Mom stood over Batsheva, sadness on her face but a strength in her I recognized. My mother was back and more powerful than ever, thanks to Batsheva's meddling. The core of the coven, the ghost of the Hayle magic, was once more in Mom's possession. Combined with it, I could feel the very power Batsheva tried to steal. I wondered how Mom planned to explain her new Sidhe undead abilities to the others.

I felt a hand on my arm. Gram grinned, drool running down her chin, her crazed gaze gleaming in the dim illumination of the candles.

"Still all here," she said. "Darkness loses."

"Light wins," I finished for her.

"Light wins," she said. "Now give it back."

Crazy old lady.

***

# Chapter Thirty Eight

The wailing started and would not stop. It was a horrible, broken sound, full of frustration and despair. It pierced me like a knife.

We all came together over the hunched form of Batsheva Moromond. I felt Quaid join us, his face expressionless but eyes soft as he watched his mother, wretched, shattered, shriek her sanity away into the night.

As she did, they started to arrive, slowly at first, in ones and twos, then large groups of them all at once, the coven, our family, come to pass judgment on the saboteur who almost destroyed us. None of them approached, leaving us alone, keeping their distance, standing guard over the Moromonds to allow us our moment together.

By the time the witches gathered, it was getting close to dawn.

"We should go," Uncle Frank said to us. Sunny shone beside him. She brushed my face with her fingertips in thanks.

"Stay," Mom said. "You are welcome here, both of you. From now on, you are always welcome."

Frank grinned at her. "Thanks, and any other time, we'll take you up on it." He looked to the east and the growing dawn. "We don't exactly have much choice at the moment."

We hugged them. I closed my eyes as I felt them dissolve and fly to safety for the day, feeling Uncle Frank's energy hug me as he left.

"Love you, too," I whispered.

I opened my eyes at the brush of fairy magic. Jared stepped forward. He reverted to his human state. I saw Erica in the crowd, her face pinched with guilt and anger that he fooled her for so long.

"I, too, have to go," he said.

"You are welcome with us, Galleytrot," Mom told him. I saw the hope and gratitude that crossed his face. It faded.

"I can't, but you are a generous woman to offer. You have been nothing but kind to me. I need to offer something in return."

"You already have," she said. "I feel your power in me, now, and I thank you for it."

We all knew it hadn't been his choice to make it a gift, but he didn't try to take it back, either.

"All I can grant you is a warning," he said.

"The others will come," Mom answered. I shuddered. I almost forgot about the Wild Hunt.

"I'm afraid so," he said. "They have been asleep for so long, but Batsheva and her meddling has brought them to the edge of waking. When they do, they will know about you."

"Thank you, Galleytrot," she said. "I will be watchful. I will know when they rise."

He sank into his other form. The coven gasped as Jared became the huge black dog.

"Know this," he growled out in his elemental, gravelly voice. "Whatever advantage you think you have from knowing, whatever plan you have to stand against them, when the Wild Hunt wakes, they will come for you, Miriam Hayle, and no power, not even that you have from me, will be able to stop them."

With that, he disappeared.

If it hadn't been for the perfectly serene look on her face, I would have been afraid. But, after what we went through, I figured we'd face it when it came and worry about it then.

Mom caught me watching her and winked.

My mother turned to the gathered coven, drawing Meira, Gram, Sassy and I to her as she faced those who let her down. I shook in fury. I wanted to tell the whole lot of them off. If they just stood behind her, if they were stronger, Batsheva would never have been able to come between the family and my mother.

I felt her hand on my shoulder squeeze followed by the gentle brush of her familiar power over me. I recognized how much I missed it, the perfect, warm weight of it. I was terrified it was gone forever. I calmed under her touch, trusting her to deal with them and for once keeping my big mouth shut.

"My coven, my sisters and brothers," she said, "my very good friends, what has happened has happened. There will be no blame placed from this moment on."

A groan ran through the gathered witches as they felt her forgiveness and love and her renewed bond to them.

"What of the Moromonds?" Erica asked. "Surely they are to be blamed?"

There was a murmur of agreement, an anger rising as the self-doubt and guilt turned outward. I saw the greatly reduced Dominic shrink back from them, terror etched in his pinched face.

Batsheva stayed stubbornly unrepentant. Her wailing ceased as she listened.

Mom held up one hand, calling for silence. It came in a breath.

"They must be punished," she said, "but they will be treated to the letter of our laws. They will have a fair and honest trial led by the High Council. There will be no old world justice here. I will not have its negative energy weaken us any further."

I had Superwoman for a mom.

"And the boy?" Celeste said. "What of the boy?"

My heart dropped. "He is innocent," I said.

"You speak for him, Sydlynn?" Mom asked.

My eyes locked on him. He bowed his head to me with one of his smirks and stepped forward, smile fading as he faced my mother.

"I seek asylum in the coven," he said. "I'm too young yet to leave them on my own. I need your permission to break from them and be free."

Mom's fingertips brushed his cheek.

"Granted," she said. I didn't miss the speculative look she gave me out of the corner of her eye.

"It is done, then," she said, magic carrying it to the furthest corner of the crowd. She turned to face Batsheva and Dominic. The sadness in her face aged her.

"I hereby cast you out," she said, "and order you to be taken before the High Council to be judged for your crimes. Have you anything to say?"

Batsheva stopped wailing. She stared at my mother with such pure hatred I had to force myself to keep from putting my body between them.

"Only that I will have my revenge on you," she snarled at my mother, "and your family. There is far more to this than you know, fool. I am not the only one who you must fear. Do you really think I acted alone in this? You have overstepped yourself, and you will be punished for it."

We all frowned. What was she talking about? My mother showed nothing.

"I pity you, Batsheva," she said, and meant it.

She couldn't have hurt the other witch more if she kicked her in the face. Batsheva's whole body shuddered with fury, wanting to lash out but unable.

"I will have your power for my own, Miriam Hayle," she howled, madness taking her. "And when you fall, I will dance on your shallow grave!"

It was only then I saw she was bleeding. She cut her hand with a sharp rock. Using her own life force as an energy source in the charged circle of the site, she threw herself completely into the darkness of her evil. A dull, shuddering portal oozed to life next to her. My whole being flinched from the rank stench blowing outward as it surged to life. Batsheva, her free hand already gripping Dominic, leapt for the hole and vanished, taking her groveling husband with her.

No one moved as the wash of her spell imploded and dissipated, unable to hold shape in the presence of so much positive magic.

"Mom," I hissed. "We can't let them get away!"

"They won't," she whispered. "Not for long. They will be hunted down by the Enforcers and destroyed." Mom drew me to her for a quick hug. Despite her feelings of regret, I was more than happy they were going to be someone else's problem from now on.

Besides, there were other questions needing answers.

"What was she talking about?" I asked her. "Who is after you? Are we in more trouble?"

My calm and peaceful mother refused to answer. I clenched my teeth but held my tongue. I'd get it out of her sooner or later. Preferably sooner. I was willing to offer her a grace period, considering.

It was a beautiful morning.

"Come," Mom said as the sun cleared the horizon and lit the site, "we have work to do. Samhain is here. Today we say goodbye to summer."

The witches broke up into small groups. They went about their appointed tasks, radiating joy and peace, to clean and reset the site for the real ceremony. Despite everything that happened, they felt whole again. Just like that. Could everything possibly go back to normal? Really?

I was shocked by the very thought, but not so much by the effortless re-fusion of the magic and the coven as much as my mother's intentions.

"You can't be serious," I said. "Mom, don't you think we've all had about enough magic for one day?"

She glowed with happiness. It lit her eyes, her whole being. I knew I could only ever dream of being as beautiful as my mother, her jet black hair on fire from behind by the rising sun, tall, slender body strong and confident, stunning face creasing with warmth and love.

"Oh, Syd," she laughed at me, "There's no such thing as too much magic."

For once I decided to agree with her.

***

# Chapter Thirty Nine

It's funny how happy endings can leave you feeling empty.

I know I should have been overjoyed at the prospect of surviving the whole nasty mess, but it was hard when there was still so much I struggled with.

Like my new friends, for example. I was grateful none of what happened spilled out into the normal world so that we weren't forced to move again. I finally had some friends and I was finding I enjoyed that very much. But, the fear lay around the next corner, at the next crisis. I knew we could be forced to run and I would lose them all. I really wanted to commit to them but I held myself back and I know they felt it.

Still, I was grateful to Alison for keeping it together and giving me a safe place to go and be ordinary. All of the bullying died off. I was starting to enjoy school for the first time in my life. Imagine that.

Then there was the Brad problem. He wanted to date me, but I resisted. How could I possibly take advantage of him knowing the only reason he wanted to be with me was a latent talent he didn't even know he had? No way, not going down that dark and dismal road. If only there was a way get rid of him gently. But no matter how many times I said no, he kept asking. I knew if he asked enough, I'd weaken. The whole 'just want to be friends' thing had already worn thin. I wanted him to kiss me again.

I didn't even want to consider the Quaid issue. Now that he was a permanent member of the coven, he was around all the time. Despite the fact I was attracted to him and knew he was to me, I was not going there, either. Every time I was around him, the demon wanted to touch him and feel his energy. I did my very best to keep her out, so any contact with him was horribly counterproductive.

There was still the issue of Batsheva's parting remarks to work through. Mom ignored all of my attempts to grill her on what it meant and whether I should take it seriously. She still had frustrating down to a science.

And yes, despite the agreement I made with my mother, I still resisted her attempts to make me learn magic. She was so distracted by her new-won powers she wasn't pushing the issue, so I had some breathing room. But, I knew as soon as she had those under control, she'd be all over me like a warm blanket.

I wasn't cold.

Quite the opposite. Fighting tooth and nail against a demon that wants out of her cage can do that to you. Besides, I wasn't sure what Mom would do when she found out my demon was almost stronger than me and getting more powerful by the day. I was almost ready to volunteer to be locked up but too stubborn to give in.

If only the battle I waged wasn't one I knew I'd eventually lose.

How much does that suck?

###

You can find the entire **20 volume series** available now

 RIGHT HERE!

Prequel Novella: Dreams and Echoes

Family Magic

Witch Hunt

Demon Child

The Wild

The Long Lost

Gatekeeper

Flesh and Blood

Full Circle

Divided Heart

First Plane

Light and Shadow

Queen of Darkness

Dark Promise

Unseelie Ties

Ancient Ways

The Undying

Shifting Loyalties

Enforcer

Coven Leader

The Last Call

***

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***

About the Author

Everything you need to know about me is in this one statement: I've wanted to be a writer since I was a little girl, and now I'm doing it. How cool is that, being able to follow your dream and make it reality? I've tried everything from university to college, graduating the second with a journalism diploma (I sucked at telling real stories), was in an all-girl improv troupe for five glorious years (if you've never tried it, I highly recommend making things up as you go along as often as possible). I've even been in a Celtic girl band (some of our stuff is on YouTube!) and was an independent film maker. My life has been one creative thing after another—all leading me here, to writing books for a living.

Now with over 100 titles in happy publication, I live on beautiful and magical Prince Edward Island (I know you've heard of Anne of Green Gables) with my very patient husband and multitude of pets.

I love-love-love hearing from you! You can reach me (and I promise I'll message back) at patti@pattilarsen.com. And if you're eager for your next dose of Patti Larsen books (usually about one release a month) come join my reader club! All the best up and coming, giveaways, contests and, of course, my observations on the world (aren't you just dying to know what I think about everything?) all in one place: http://smarturl.it/PattiLarsenEmail.

Last—but not least!—I hope you enjoyed what you read! Your happiness is my happiness. And I'd love to hear just what you thought. **A review** where you found this book would mean the world to me— **reviews feed writers** more than you will ever know. So, loved it (or not so much), **your honest review** would make my day. **Thank you!**
