The Council, A Witch's Memory (3 page)

“I’ll remember that.” I hugged them and stepped back to phase. I closed my eyes and pictured my bedroom. When I opened them I was standing in front of my closet.

I shed my formal clothes, sent the pieces flying to their rightful places. I pulled on jeans, sneakers, and a worn button up shirt. It was pretty hot out, so I pushed the sleeves to my elbows and let the collar hang open.

I wanted to know if Venna felt the same inexplicable pull I did whenever I got within five feet of her, like gravity. I got sucked in to the atmosphere that was Venna, and the sooner I had her by my side, the better I’d feel. I couldn’t comprehend not having her in my life. And I wouldn’t risk telling her who she was, even if I had to leave her until tomorrow morning.

But that didn’t mean Venna was my destiny, only that I cared for her. Anyone who spent so much time being friends with her would care. So I put away the necklace for now.

It was inevitable. I couldn’t escape this. My soul would choose a witch for me, sometime before I turned nineteen. Our souls bound just before we reached our most powerful point in life. It would all slow down after that. On my nineteenth birthday I would stop aging like the humans, as would my mate.

The male was the deciding factor. Once my body froze into a state as close to immortal as any being would get, the female my soul chose would freeze as well. We would then grow older slowly, like my parents. The math wasn’t all that accurate, but I figured we age approximately one year for every sixty that passed.

I tried not to wish for Venna to be my destiny. Trying to save myself from disappointment. Because what if she wasn’t mine?

I practically raced out the front door, anxious to see that she was all right. Trying not to think about the possibility of there being someone else for me. Possibly loosing her.

Patience.

As I approached the center of the town, nosy citizens of Capeside peered through shop windows and watched me from rocking chairs on the porches of businesses. They knew my car by sight. A ‘67 Ford Mustang Shelby, the only one like it for miles. Jet black inside and out with white racing stripes, completely refurbished.

The residents of Capeside thought I was dangerous driving this car.

I smiled.

I was dangerous without it.

Chapter 3

I eyed a parking spot in front of the bookstore where Venna worked part-time. The light changed from green to red. I idled, wondering why the town needed a traffic light when most people walked.

The passenger side door to my car opened.

Not in the mood to be bombarded, I swung around to tell the person to get lost.

“Hey, Henry.”

I kept unkind words to myself as Venna settled in the passenger’s seat and shut the door. “Hey. I was on my way to get you.”

Strawberry haired Venna Greer, with eyes like sapphires and skin like snow.

“The store is a block from your car.” She smiled. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“No problem.” It was never a problem having the gorgeous redhead beside me, filling my car with her sweet vanilla smell.

“So, how long have you been in town?”

“Five glorious minutes,” I turned down one of the many dirt roads leading off Cape Street. “By the way, I loved the brownies you made me.”

“You’re welcome. Happy birthday, Henry.” She leaned over and kissed my cheek.

I gripped the steering wheel so tightly I’m surprised it didn’t break off.

“I thought the rule was a kiss for each year?” Boy, I really pushed my luck.

“Uh, I’ve never heard of that before. Do you really want eighteen kisses on your cheek?” her face tinged pink.

“No.” Yes. “Is there anything special you’d like for your birthday?” I’m ten days older than her. She made me brownies and shipped them to North Dakota. Although I wouldn’t be making her anything, I loved buying Venna presents. I even enjoyed it as a kid.

“The next town over has a new bookstore.”

“You want me to take you to a bookstore for your birthday?” If she really wanted a book, I would get her a book.

“I’m just not sure what I want yet.”

“I am buying you something.” I warned, wondering if her indecisiveness was to throw me off. “You’ve got time to think about it.

“Okay.” Another sigh, “I’m glad you’re home Henry, it’s not the same when you’re gone.”

“I don’t like being away,” from you.

“But it was only two weeks…I was so busy I barely had time to miss you.” She went back to fiddling with the radio.

At times I saw glimmers in her actions, in the way she would look or touch me that suggested her feelings went deeper. But she was also very good at saying something to contradict those actions, throwing me off even more.

Like the kiss on the cheek. She kisses me, and then acts like it was nothing.

I never really feared rejection before, but I’d never felt like this before, either. I prided myself on being able to handle any kind of situation without losing my head. It was what I spent my life learning to do, to prepare me for the day I took my place as king.

Give me a spunky little redhead named Venna and all those years of training were useless.

I started out pretending to be her friend, thought I’d have to shield her from something magical. Mum warned me of the possibility. It was my job to keep her from unintentionally exposing our world, or to shield her from humans if she accidently discovered magic in public. I never actually wanted to be her friend or even considered the possibility of liking her. I was just going to do my job and try not to hate it.

Our friendship snuck up on me. We went everywhere together. We liked the same games and movies. We just clicked.

But now I felt more than just a bond, a friendship with her. I felt protective of her in a way words could not describe. I no longer cared about her importance to my parents, or the fact that I was required to look out for her. I grew up, realizing she was important to me and nothing else mattered.

My feelings for Venna were depthless, and sometimes I wondered at how I could care for someone so much.

And I was going to do everything in my power to make sure that she would have my confession. That is, after, we experienced the two events my father warned me of.

“What do you want to do this afternoon?” I asked, trying not to think too much about the next twenty-four hours.

“I’m up for anything.” Her sapphire eyes twinkled playfully. “Whatever were you thinking of doing, Mr. Langley?”

“I’m thinking we should go for lunch Miss Greer.” I turned down another dirt road, heading for Minnie’s Diner.

Chapter 4

Venna

I watched Henry, wanting to burn the picture of him in my mind forever. He was leaning back, completely at ease. One long, muscular arm stretched out, his wrist wresting on the steering wheel, the other draped behind me on the seat.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” He slowed the car as we drew closer to the diner, kicking up a cloud of dirt and leaves.

“No. I figured you’d want to hang out.”

He didn’t say anything and stared at me. The sharp angles of his face gave nothing away. I had no idea what he was thinking. I felt his contemplation though. Saw the hitch of breath in his chest as he hesitated. He felt…nervous.

Wait, that was weird. I can’t know what he’s feeling.

My imagination must be on overdrive today.

“I’m driving down to Mick’s,” he said. “You should come.”

“The antique car dealer?”

“We’ll have fun.” There was something in his eyes, a promise. He wanted me to enjoy myself if I went with him. But I always had fun with Henry, no matter what we did. It wasn’t the activity that we were involved in; just being with him was enough.

“Okay.” I wanted to say something more, only I found myself at a loss for words as the car came to a stop in a parking space behind the diner.

Minnie’s Diner wasn’t actually a diner. It was a house. The first story was converted into a restaurant and the second was home to Minnie White, a woman in her mid-fifties who was known for heavy blue eye shadow and an even heavier use of butter in her cooking. The food was good, a little greasy sometimes.

Henry steered me toward the last booth next to an open window. The cushions were bright red vinyl, the tabletop lacquered black. An ancient jukebox sat against the wall playing oldies next to a long counter with red stools. The floor was a checkered black and white pattern. Minnie had also glued old records to the wall, after painting the room a shiny white. It was pretty cute, and didn’t look like a house anymore. Except the one bathroom in the place included a working bathtub.

“Do you know what you want?” I asked Henry while perusing the menu.

“Cheeseburger. You?”

I wrinkled my nose. “Uh, I think I’ll do the burger and skip the cheese.”

He grinned. “It’s un-American to hate yellow cheese on a hamburger.”

“Why are you complaining?” I teased. “You’re English.”

“I am just as much of an American citizen as you, Venna. You’re right though, if anyone at this table was to be un-American, it would be me and my love of fish and chips.”

Laughter overcame us and the waitress appeared. We ordered, and Henry asked for a chocolate milkshake last minute. The waitress brought it to us and we shared while chatting about school, graduation, anything Henry had missed while he was away with his family.

I studied my best friend across from me. “It was strange.”

He knitted his eyebrows. “What was?”

“Graduation,” I shook my head, holding back a grimace. “After I got my diploma I…I thought I saw you in the back of the auditorium.”

Two nights ago I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I walked across the stage. I wouldn’t trip like the girl before me did, and I wasn’t going to jump around like an idiot, either. Tripping and overexcitement ran rampant. I felt subdued as I accepted my high school diploma and shook hands with the principle, Mr. Franklin. He smiled and congratulated me. I turned toward the crowd in the packed auditorium and grinned at my fourteen-year-old brother, Zane. He waved, jumping up from his seat in the fifth row, snapping pictures and whistling.

Just like the others before me, I shifted the tassel on my cap from right to left and started down a short flight of stairs for my seat, sharing silently in the excitement my brother displayed. Though I was wishing Henry could have been in the L section of the line.

I stopped on the bottom stair to pose for a cheesy picture with the school mascot, a badger. After the camera flashed I hurried past the photographer, ready to disappear into the sea of people.

As I headed up the isle, a person standing alone, away from everyone, caught my attention. I squinted at the farthest corner of the auditorium.

In the shadows I saw a pair of striking green eyes, glittering in the dark, and a proud smile. I had to be imagining him. I was just being hopeful, getting myself worked up over nothing.

Closing my eyes, I took a steadying breath and looked again, knowing my imagination had run away. The shadows were empty. He wasn’t there. He couldn’t be.

I fell asleep that night trying to think about how wonderful my summer was going to be. Instead I ended up thinking about him. I dreamt of his eyes watching me in the auditorium, their green depths, fathomless and hypnotic, entrancing me every time his gaze locked with mine. I dreamt of his smile, the way my heart beat faster than the wings of a humming bird whenever we were close, and how my knees shook when he said my name.

I dreamt about Henry almost every restless night while he was away.

Had I dreamt up his being at graduation because I missed him so much?

I sighed, coming back to the present. It was crazy to even tell him, but I told Henry everything that bothered me. My fears, strange dreams, always. Sometimes I wondered if I shared too much. “It seemed so real.”

“It’s okay.” He laid his hand over mine.

“I don’t see how it’s okay if I’m seeing things.” I argued, wanting to sigh from the warmth of his skin against mine. “It’s just silly.”

“Maybe you weren’t seeing things,” he said.

“Were you there? Really?” was this a joke?

His green eyes gave his secret away. He didn’t have to say anything.

“Why didn’t you…wh-why didn’t you tell me or say something?” I didn’t understand. “You couldn’t have been there… You were out of town!”

He told me he was in New York visiting family he hadn’t seen in years. They’d flown in from London and he hadn’t seen them in five years.

Still seemed a little funny they’d make him miss his graduation…

“I drove down to see you receive your diploma. My cousin covered for me.” He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “If I had made myself known I wouldn’t have been able to get back without anyone noticing I’d gone. The town gossips would have seen to that. And the picture of the senior class in the newspaper the next morning would have been a dead giveaway.”