Blood Witch (5 page)

Mom came into my room that night as I was getting dressed to go to Jenna Ruiz’s for the circle. “Are you guys going to a movie?” she asked. She automatically began straightening the pile of rejected clothes on my bed.

“No,” I said, and left it at that. When it came to Wicca, silence was the best policy. I turned in front of the mirror, frowning. As usual, I looked hopeless. I pulled open the bathroom door and yelled, “Mary K.!” Having an endlessly trendy sister had its perks.

She appeared at once.

I held out my arms. “Help.”

Her warm brown eyes skimmed me critically, then she shook her head. “Take it all off,” she ordered.

I obeyed meekly. Mom grinned at us.

While Mary K. pawed through my closet, Mom tried to wheedle more information from me. “You said you were going to Jenna’s? Will Bree be there?”

I paused for a moment. Both Mary K. and Mom had mentioned Bree today. I wasn’t really surprised; she had been a virtual fixture at our house for years—but talking about her was painful. “I don’t think so,” I finally said. “It’s just going to be our regular group, getting together. You know, I’ve never been to Jenna’s house before.” A lame attempt to change the subject, I knew. Mary K. threw a pair of skinny jeans at me, and I obediently shimmied into them.

“We never see Bree anymore,” Mom commented as Mary K. disappeared into her room.

I nodded, aware of Mom’s eyes on me.

“Did you guys have a fight?” Mom asked straight out.

Mary K. returned, holding an embroidered cotton sweater.

“Kind of,” I said with a sigh. I really didn’t want to get into this, not now. I pulled off my sweatshirt and tugged on the sweater. It fit smoothly, to my surprise. I’m taller and thinner than Mary K., but she inherited my mom’s curvy chest. My adoptive mom, that is. I wondered fleetingly if Maeve Riordan had been built like me.

“Did you fight over Wicca?” Mom pried with the subtlety of an ax. “Does Bree not like Wicca?”

“No,” I said, pulling my hair out of the sweater and examining my new look. It was a big improvement, which lifted my mood a little. “Bree does Wicca, too.” I sighed again, finally giving in to Mom’s interrogation. “Actually, we fought over Cal. She wanted to go out with him, but he wanted to go out with me. Now she pretty much hates me.”

Mom was quiet for a moment. Mary K. stared at the floor.

“That’s too bad,” Mom said after a moment. “It’s sad when friends fight over a boy.” She laughed gently, reassuringly. “Usually the boys aren’t worth it.”

I nodded. A lump had formed in my throat. I didn’t want to talk about Bree anymore; it hurt too much. I checked the clock. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Anyway, I’m late; I better go.” My voice was strained. “Thanks, Mary K.” I kissed the air beside Mom’s cheek—then I was down the stairs and out the door, pulling on my coat and shivering in the cold.

In a few moments, though, the sadness over Bree began to melt away. I felt a tingle of anticipation. It was circle night.

 

Jenna lived not far from me in a small, Victorian-style house. It was charmingly run-down, with an overgrown yard. The paint was peeling, and one shutter was missing a hinge.

As soon as I walked up the steps to the porch, a cat greeted me. It meowed and rubbed its head against my legs.

“What are you doing out here?” I whispered as I rang the doorbell.

Jenna opened the door right away, her cheeks flushed, blond hair pulled back, a big smile on her face.

“Hi, Morgan!” she said, then looked down at the cat squeezing its way inside. “Hugo, I told you it was freezing out there! I called you! You ignored me. Now your paws are cold.”

I laughed and glanced around to see who was here. No Cal, not yet. Of course, I knew that already; I hadn’t seen his car outside, hadn’t felt his presence. Robbie was examining Jenna’s stereo system, which had a real turntable. A stack of old vinyl records was piled haphazardly next to the fireplace.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi,” I answered. I was amazed that this was Jenna’s home. Jenna was by far one of the most popular girls in school and thoroughly up-to-date, like Mary K.—but her house looked like a throwback to the 1970s. The furniture was comfortably shabby, with plants hung in front of every window, some needing water. There seemed to be dust and cat hair everywhere. And dog hair, I amended, seeing two basset hounds snoring on a dog bed in a corner of the dining room. No wonder Jenna has asthma, I found myself thinking. She’d have to live in a plastic bubble in this house to breathe clean air.

“Want some cider?” Jenna asked, handing me a cup. It was warm and smelled deliciously spicy. I took a sip as the doorbell rang again.

“Hey!” It was Sharon Goodfine. She shrugged off her thick black leather coat and hung it on the stairs’ newel post. “Hugo! Don’t even think about it!” she cried as the cat reached up to pat her coat with his fat white paws. Obviously she had been here before.

Ethan Sharp came right after Sharon, looking underdressed in a thin fatigue jacket.

Sharon handed him a cup of cider. “Apparently you lack the gene that allows you to dress for the weather,” she teased.

He grinned at her, looking vaguely stoned, even though I knew he didn’t smoke pot anymore. She smiled back. I tried not to roll my eyes. When would they realize that they liked each other? Right now they sort of sniped at each other childishly.

Cal arrived next, and my heart lifted as he walked through the door. I was still upset about what had happened with Hunter at Practical Magick; Cal and I had hardly said two words to each other on the way home. But seeing him now made me feel much better, and when he met my eyes, I could tell he had missed me in the hours we had been apart.

“Morgan, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, hesitating near the door. He didn’t have to add “alone.” I could see it in his face.

I nodded, surprised, and stepped toward him.

“What’s up?” I asked.

Turning his back on the living room, he pulled a small stone from his pocket. It was smooth, round, and gray—about the size of a Ping-Pong ball. Inscribed on it in black ink was a rune. I had been reading about runes, so I recognized it instantly: it was Peorth, the rune for hidden things revealed.

“I found this stuck into the suspension of my car,” Cal whispered.

My head jerked up in alarm. “Did Hunter . . . ?” I didn’t finish.

Cal nodded.

“What does it mean?” I asked.

“It means that he’s using dirty tricks to spy on us,” he muttered, shoving the stone back into his pocket. “It’s nothing to worry about, though. If anything, it proves that he doesn’t have much power.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry,” Cal said. He flashed me a reassuring smile. “You know, I don’t even know why I bothered showing this to you. It’s not a big deal. Really.”

I watched him as he headed to the living room to say hi to the others. He wasn’t being completely honest with me; I could feel that even without using my heightened witch senses. Hunter’s little trick did concern him, at least to some degree.

What is Hunter up to? I wondered again. What does he want with us?

It was already nine o’clock, when we usually got started. We drank cider. Robbie played music. I tried to forget about the stone. Looking at the pets soothed me: the dogs snored and twitched in their sleep, and the cats rubbed our legs in quiet demands for attention. I realized that the only one of us missing was Jenna’s boyfriend, Matt. Jenna kept glancing at the tall grandfather clock in the foyer. As the minutes went by, she seemed increasingly ill at ease.

Her parents wandered in, met us, totally unconcerned with the fact that we were here to perform a Wiccan circle. It must be nice not to worry about making your parents mad, I thought. They headed upstairs to watch TV and told us to have a good time.

“Well, I’ll get started with the circles,” Cal said finally, opening his bag and settling down on the floor. “We’ll give Matt ten more minutes.”

“It’s not like him to be late,” Jenna murmured. “I called his cell phone, but it went straight to voice mail.”

I suddenly remembered seeing Matt’s car, parked next to Raven’s. Was that only this morning? It had been a long day. I stifled a yawn as I sat on the worn green couch in the living room, watching Cal work.

“What are you doing?” I asked. Usually he drew a simple, perfect circle in salt. When we stepped in, he closed it and purified it with earth, air, fire, and water. But tonight’s circle was different.

“This is more complicated,” Cal explained.

Slowly the others drifted over to watch him. He was drawing circles within circles, leaving an opening in each one. There were three geometrically perfect circles now, the largest one taking up every inch of available space in Jenna’s living room.

At the four compass points of the circles Cal drew a rune in chalk and also in the air: Mann, the rune for community and interdependence; Daeg, symbolizing dawn, awakening, clarity; Ur, for strength; Tyr, for victory in battle. Cal named them as he drew them but didn’t offer any explanation. Before we could ask, the front door blew open and Matt breezed in, looking uncharacteristically disheveled and scattered.

“Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late. Car trouble.” He kept his head down, not meeting anyone’s eye. Jenna looked at him, first in concern, then in confusion as he threw off his coat and came to watch Cal. For a moment Jenna hesitated. Then she walked up to him and took his hand. He gave her a brief smile but ignored her otherwise.

“Okay, everyone, step inside, and I’ll close the circles,” Cal instructed.

We did. I stood between Matt and Sharon. I tried never to stand next to Cal at a circle—I knew from experience that it would be too much to handle or control. Sharon and Matt were safe.

“Tonight we’re working on personal goals,” Cal continued, standing up. He handed Ethan a small bowl of salt and told him to purify the circle. Next he asked Jenna to light the incense, symbolizing air, and Sharon to touch each of our foreheads with a drop of water from its matching bowl. There was a fire in the living room fireplace—and we used it for fire, naturally. My tiredness started to fade as I glanced around at everyone united for the same purpose. This circle felt special somehow, more important, more focused.

“During our breathing exercises,” Cal said, “I want you each to concentrate on your own personal goals. Think about what you want out of Wicca and what you can offer to Wicca. Try to make it as simple and pure as possible. Stuff like ‘I want a new car’ isn’t it.”

We laughed.

“It’s more like, I want to be more patient, or I want to be more honest, or I want to be braver. Think about what that means to you and how Wicca can help you achieve it. Any questions?”

I shook my head. There were so many things about myself I wanted to improve. I pictured myself as a smiling, confident person—open and honest and giving: a poster girl for Wicca. Feeling no anger, no envy, no greed. I sighed. Yeah, right. Accomplishing all that was a pretty ambitious project. Maybe too ambitious.

“Everyone take hands, and let’s begin our breathing exercises,” said Cal.

I reached for my neighbors. Matt’s hand was still cool from being outside. Sharon’s bracelets jingled against my wrist. I began to breathe slowly and deeply, trying to let all the day’s negativity and tensions drain from my body, trying to draw in all the positive energies I could. I consciously relaxed every muscle, starting at the top of my head and working my way down. Within a few minutes I felt calm and focused, in a meditative state where I was only semi-aware of my surroundings. This was good.

“Now think about your goals.” Cal’s voice seemed to float from everywhere at once. Unbidden, we began to move in a circle, first slowly, then more quickly and smoothly. My eyes opened, and I saw Jenna’s living room as a series of dark smudges, a wild blur as we spun around and around. The fireplace marked our turns, and I looked into the fire, feeling its warmth and light and power.

“I want to be more open,” I heard Sharon murmur, as if on a breeze.

“I want to be happy,” said Ethan.

There was a moment of silence while I thought about what I wanted, and then Jenna said, “I want to be more lovable.”

I felt Matt’s hand clench mine for an instant, and then he said, “I want to be more honest.” The words sounded reluctant and pained.

“I want to be strong,” Cal whispered.

“I want to be a good person,” said Robbie—and I thought, But you are.

I was last. I could feel the seconds ticking by. I still didn’t know what I needed to work on the most. Yet words seemed to explode from my mouth, as if by their own accord. They hung on the air like smoke from a bog fire.

“I want to realize my power.”

As soon as I said it, a current ran through the circle, like a wind whipping a rope. It was electric: it charged me, so that I felt I could fly or dance above the earth.