Family Magic (37 page)

For once I decided to agree with her.

***

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?

# # #

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***

Check out this sample of the exciting
sequel

Book Two of The Hayle Coven Novels

***

I had the tune, no problem. It was the words
that eluded me. The latest pop song to make it to the top of the
charts circled around inside my head, the lyrics begging to be
recalled and hummed to the catchy melody. He loves my pain? He
loves the rain? He lives in Spain? I struggled as my mind wandered,
feeling the right words on the tip of my brain. Damn it, what was
that line?

“Syd.”

I was so sure! I sang it in my best friend
Alison’s car on the way home… she knew every word, maybe I could
call her and get her to tell me. Or I could download the video and
find out that way.

“Syd!”

It drove me crazy. I hated when I couldn’t
remember stuff like that. My mind wanted to make up new lyrics and
I refused to be one of those losers who everyone picked on because
they got the words wrong.

“Sydlynn Thaddea Hayle!”

I snapped to attention just in time to lose
the wavering shield I was supposed to be holding around the huge
red candle in the middle of the pentagram. Too late, the flickering
flame went out and my shield collapsed, useless. Kind of like me,
at that moment.

I heaved a sigh and slumped forward over my
knees, trying not to meet the eyes of the powerful witch now
hovering over me with a sour expression on her face. I finally
looked up, trying for innocence and barely hitting bored. The tall,
beautiful vision of jet-black flowing curls and deep blue eyes
scowled so hard it made her cheeks red.

“What exactly was that?”

I shrugged. “Sorry, Mom,” I said. “I guess I
got distracted.”

Miriam Hayle, coven leader, witch of
unsurpassed power and poise, threw up her hands at me and rolled
her eyes.

“Honestly, Sydlynn,” she said, exasperation
clearly written, “you need to
focus
.”

I glared at the extinguished candle. The wick
was quite dead, curled and blackened, the wax beneath barely a tiny
melted pool, rapidly solidifying. I held the shield for maybe a
minute.

“I know,” I said. “I just…”

“What?” Mom crossed her arms over her chest,
right foot tapping rapidly on the cement floor as she struggled
with her temper. Despite the fact I knew the truth would just drive
her over the edge, I had a brain/mouth malfunction.

“There’s this amazing new song on the radio,”
I said. “And I just can’t remember how the words go.”

She stared at me for a long moment. For such
a long moment I actually winced. Her eyes closed slowly and her jaw
clenched. The vein in her forehead lifted to the surface and
started to pulse gently. I’m sure I imagined it, but I was certain
there was smoke coming out of her ears.

Oh crap.

I tried to backpedal. “I’m sorry, Mom,
really,” I said, hoping to head off the inevitable crash and burn
we seemed to engage in far too often. “I know I’m supposed to
focus. I know I promised I’d learn magic.” After years of refusing
to become just another witch in the family coven, resisting and
rejecting my heritage and power, I had only a few months before
agreed to give it a try without, to that point, a whole lot of
result.

Her eyes opened and she looked at me.

I saw it as a good sign. “It’s just not as
easy as it looks,” I said.

“At least you understand that much.” Her
voice was steadier than I gave her credit for. “Magic, accessing
your power, takes concentration, Syd.”

“It never did before.” I felt a little bitter
about the whole thing. My demon, the half I got from my father, the
Demon Lord Haralthazar, muttered and complained right along with
me.

“You were reacting, not acting.” Mom sighed,
anger visibly draining out of her. “You have no control, Syd.
That’s the problem.”

“So that’s why I’ve been having trouble using
my power when there’s nothing important to do.”

Like defend my family from an evil witch and
her icky husband who tried to destroy us. Batsheva and Dominic
Moromond stirred my desire to learn magic by ousting my mom from
her place as head of the coven and trying to drain our whole family
of their magic to feed their negative power. That was an easy sell.
But not having them as targets made it harder to tap in.

Not to mention the hideously nauseous feeling
that came and went when I tried tapping into my magic. I called it
a win that the queazies hadn’t shown while I shielded the candle at
least.

Had to find the happy somewhere.

“Exactly,” she said. “When you were under
attack, it was easy to access your power, to call it up and let it
out without compunction. But Syd, that isn’t how it works. Magic is
about being calm, focused, attentive to the task at hand, no matter
how small,” she lit the candle without looking, erecting a glowing
blue shield around it, “or big the situation or threat. If I were
to expend all of my power on one thing when I was threatened, what
would I do if there were two assailants? Or if it was a trick to
draw out my power and weaken me?”

“I know, I know,” I said, lying back on the
floor, covering my eyes with my forearm. “I get it, Mom. Really. I
suck at this and I waste power. Not to mention I’m uncontrollable
and a liability to the family. Happy?”

I heard a rustle and moved my arm. Mom
settled on the floor next to me, her flowing silk skirt in an
elegant puddle around her. Did she have to be so damned perfect all
the time?

“Syd, honey,” she said, “you’re coming to
this late. If you had agreed to learn as a child—“

“Yeah, yeah,” I stared at the ceiling. “Old
news. My fault again. Nice guilt trip, Mom.”

“I’m just saying,” her voice was mild, a hint
of humor in it, “if you hadn’t been such a contrary, hard-headed,
strong, willful… Syd, I wouldn’t change you for anything, do you
know that?”

“Seriously?” I had a hard time believing her.
“Come on, Mom, even I know I’m a major disappointment to the coven.
It’s cool. I’m not in denial, or anything.”

My mother actually laughed. I breathed a
silent sigh of relief. I much preferred my mother when she wasn’t
crying her guilt-laden tears or glaring her Mom-glare at me.

“Syd,” she said, “you have no idea.”

“About?” I sat up and wrapped my arms around
my raised knees. I needed a little ego stroking right about then
and my mother wasn’t about to let me down.

“You have more power than any of them.” She
touched my hair in a way that made me feel six years old, a sappy
and distant smile on her face. “And one day, you will lead them in
my place.”

I shuddered and pulled away from her.

“No way,” I said. “Not going to happen.
Ever.”

“Syd—” she started, but I cut her off.

“You may have me convinced that I need to
learn to control this… this…”

“Power?” She was trying not to snicker. I
scowled at her.

“Fine. Power. But I’m not leader
material.”

“I think you may be wrong about that,” she
said in her mysterious way that drove me absolutely around the bend
and back again.

“Whatever,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t win
the argument and losing patience with the whole thing. “Besides, I
won’t have to take over the coven.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because,” I grinned at her, “I fully intend
for you to live forever.”

My mother laughed and hugged me.

“I’ll do my best,” she said.

“You’d better,” I answered, trying to block
the memory of my crippled and powerless mother, her magic stolen by
the Moromonds, barely alive and barely wanting to be.

I leaned back and I know her thoughts were
off in the same direction as mine. But, she was way less likely to
let it come between me and my lesson. Bummer.

“That being said, shall we try again?”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” I said.

She smiled at me. “Begin.”

I drew a deep breath and fought for focus. I
stared at the candle, now dark and cold again. Okay, back to task.
Light the candle, raise the shield, keep the candle burning. No
sweat.

Right. Maybe it would have been easier if my
stupid upset stomach didn’t make an appearance all of a sudden. Or
if I didn’t have my demon struggling against me, her power pushing
against the walls I so carefully raised over the years. Or if I
didn’t have those walls in the first place. No one could explain
why my demon and I were two separate entities, why she didn’t
simply integrate into me, but I knew it had to be tied into the way
I felt when I tried to used magic. Aside from my little sister
Meira, however, I was really the first human-demon hybrid that any
of the coven members had personal contact or experience with. I
know it baffled my parents. My dad was clearly mystified. There
were children of mixed race born before, but none had the
experience I did.

I know my demon blamed me in a lot of ways
and I guess she was right. Maybe if I just behaved myself and was a
good little witch from the get go, none of this would have
happened. I did have my doubts, but my demon wasn’t listening to
me.

And so, in that moment in the basement, I
fought not just her but the horrid, heavy feeling and cold sweats
tied to the very protection I created for myself and, ultimately,
lost to all three.

As I tried to ease down the wall between us,
my demon forced her way through, pushing the barrier roughly aside
and venting her frustration with me on the innocent and unassuming
stick of wax on the other side of the pentagram.

With a massive puff of black smoke, the
candle blew up.

Thank goodness my mom was there. I hunched
over, trying not to lose my lunch as Mom threw a bubble of magic
around the thick stuff and compressed then disposed of it.

“Syd!” Mom’s eyes were a little wild as she
turned to me. “What happened?”

“My demon happened,” I said through clenched
teeth.

“Was it necessary to destroy the candle?” My
mother’s voice sounded testy again and I doubted this time I would
get much sympathy. Her patience was as thin as mine and I wondered
for the millionth time if she was really the right person to be
training me.

“She obviously thought it was appropriate,” I
snapped back.

“Watch your tone, young lady,” Mom said.

“I hardly did it on purpose,” I said. “This
is stupid!” I climbed to my feet and faced her. “My demon is
frustrated and doesn’t want to spend her time lighting stupid
candles and raising baby force fields. And, to be honest, neither
do I.”

“Well, that’s just tough,” she snapped back.
“You have yet to master even the simplest tasks, Sydlynn. If you
want the coven to trust and accept you—“