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---Special thanks to Dhyani for e-mailing me some great story ideas!---
Megaera had a lot of pride, but she wasn't too proud to admit that Faye really had her, and there was no way out. She couldn't have Alexa find out the little secret, and she couldn't worm out of her promise to Faye; therefore she had to somehow get her in touch with the Black Cabal.
In her humble opinion it was suicide. The Black Cabal had taken down stronger and smarter witches than Faye before, and they would this time too. Well she'd warned her. Nothing more to do now.
She picked out a book from the library in their attic and sat in a chair where she could see the door to Galen's room. She waited. She heard a phone ring from there, then laughter. It must be Melanie again. What the hell was it with Galen and her? What could that witch have possibly done to him to turn Galen into a sniggering little boy? But then again, she might be just a little prejudiced. She had no time in her life for romance. Ever since that humiliating incident in seventh grade. She remembered it like it was yesterday. Falling for a boy with tousled black hair . . . . kissing him in the lab . . . . then he slugged her and called her dirty . . . . everybody in school laughing . . . . the teachers sending her to sex education classes . . . . her reputation following her to eighth grade, but thankfully not high school . . . .
She cringed and concentrated on watching Galen's door. Soon enough it opened and he walked downstairs, whistling cheerfully. She ran to the window and waited until she saw him heading down Crowhaven Road, probably to Melanie's. Then she ran to his room and, shaking inside, she opened the door.
Inside everything was neat. The bed was carefully made, the bottles of herbs and powders carefully labeled in red ink and hanging in neat racks, all the books on the shelves alphabetically arraigned. She looked around but didn't see his serpent staff, which was good because it contained a sort of guardian spirit. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and opened her mind to the Power. Instantly she felt it's burning touch and she was almost overwhelmed by the raw pure power that was all around her. She could do anything with it - she could level this house and drain the oceans with what she had.
But this time, she needed to look a little deeper. The magical energy she was looking for would be subtle in appearance but devastating in effect. She pushed aside the waves of immense power and started examining the silken thread - thin lines of power that wove through his room like a giant spider web. It was a testament to Galen's incredible paranoia that he could do all this. There were thousands of these magical trip wires in his room. They connected to everything, the windows, the doorway, on his bed, even hanging from the ceiling fan. She sighed, offered a prayer to the Powers that Be that Galen would spend an hour or two with Melanie, and started work.
It was frustrating, dangerous, and beyond tedious. She had to carefully shift and re-anchor each of the trip wires to clear a path for her. But she was finally in his room. She closed the door behind her so it wouldn't be quite so obvious she was breaking in, and then slowly made her way to Galen's carved mahogany desk. She looked at the lock and decided against forcing it; he had put some nasty wards over it. Instead she started riffling his papers. She wasn't sure what she was looking for; she just hoped she'd recognize it when she found it.
Finally, just when she was getting desperate, something fell out of an envelope she was setting aside. It was a tiny scrap of paper, torn from the corner of a post-it note, and on it was a phone number and the words "headquarters" in Galen's looping handwriting.
She was so relieved she'd found it she almost fell, which would have tripped about a dozen magical wards. She took another deep, shaken breath and was about to leave when something else caught her eye.
It was an opened letter to Galen. It had no return address on it. She knew it was private, and she knew she wouldn't like what she found, but she looked inside anyway.
It was from the Black Cabal. He had risen through the ranks and now whenever he "felt ready" he could challenge one of their members for a seat in the Inner Circle.
She was shaking again. She hated the Cabal, she hated them! No one and nothing else could scare her anymore, but just the mention of their name made her feel like some kind of small animal caught in headlights, watching a car coming for it.
She carefully put the letter back in, set it where it was, and started working her way out, resetting each ward as best as she remembered it. She had just closed the door when Galen thumped up the stairs.
"Megaera!"
She jumped a foot. "Uh - Ah -" she squeaked.
"Do you know what you've just done?"
She wished Alexa was here. Alexa was better at split-second replies. She just looked at him with pleading eyes.
Fortunately for her, Galen was still very mellow from visiting Melanie and didn't notice. "You've almost missed the ceremony." She looked blank. "You know, the one to straighten the energies of the wand?"
"Oh. Right. I'll - I'll get something . . . . " She ran into her room.
Galen went into his room, sat at his desk, and wondered why the things there looked a little . . . . different. They didn't seem quite like he'd left them. He tilted his head, but just before he could put the evidence together he saw the letter from the Black Cabal. He sighed and read it again. He'd gotten it the day before he drove to New Salem to check on Alexa. Then with all the illegal magic usage and all the day-to-day insanity that seemed normal here, he hadn't gotten around to dealing with it.
When he first read it, he was all for dropping by New Salem and then hopping the next flight to England. However, the past weeks had given him time to think. On the one hand, this was a wonderful opportunity. This was what he'd been working for since - well, since he was six years old. Of course he would join the Cabal! He would become part of the Inner Circle and learn all their secrets, and he would reform the organization into something that wasn't so . . . . vicious. But on the other hand, if he became a member of the Cabal proper a virtual magnifying glass would focus on him, his family, and his friends. So of course he couldn't. Of course not. This would be just one of his many, many sacrifices for his family.
He wanted to say yes, he couldn't say yes, he ought to say no, he couldn't say no . . . .
To hell with it, he had a ceremony to attend.
- - - * * * - - -
Sean sat in his father's chair, a bag of chips on either side of him and a six-pack of cola resting in his lap. He was watching wrestling on TV, making a mess, and generally having a good time. All this because his dad had to work some Saturday overtime.
The advertisements came on and he tried to change the channel, but the remote's batteries were dead. When they first started fading the remote worked one out of two tries . . . . then one out of five . . . . then ten . . . . this time he counted a hundred tries and the channel still didn't change.
He grumbled and pushed his way out from under all the junk food. He went to the kitchen for new batteries. That's when he heard the noise.
It was a skritching sound. From the basement. Then something fell over. He felt a trickle of sweat run down his forehead and, for the first time that day, wished his father was at home. But he wasnt which made Sean the man of the house. He reached into his pockets for the hematite he kept there. As soon as he touched it he felt stronger, calmer. He clutched it in one fist and pushed open the door to the basement.
Wow it was really dark down there . . . . maybe he should go back to the TV and hope whatever it was would leave . . . . the hematite sent a wave of ice up his arm and he shook his head. No! He was going down there! He went down the stairs, feeling each step with his feet. When he got to the bottom he waited a second for his eyes to adjust. He didn't see any rats or dogs, just a toppled can of rusty nails. Then he heard another grating creak and the basement went pitch black.
He was so scared he dropped the hematite in his rush to get to the door, but by the time he scrabbled up the stairs it was locked. He pounded on the door and shouted but whoever was in there didnt answer. Not with words anyway. But he did hear someone - or something laughing like a hyena. Then there was a rush of water as the upstairs toilet flushed. He heard a series of weird thunks as something rattled down the pipes, then whatever it was blew up. Ice cold water sprayed from the busted pipes, flooding the basement. He heard more laughter, then the front door closing.
At first Sean tried to think. He climbed back down and got a board and started hitting the door. When that didn't work he screamed and wailed. Nobody came to help him. He huddled up in freezing clothes on the top step and tried not to think about all the nasty things in the basement that were probably being driven toward him by the water.
His father came home three hours later and grounded him for a month for somehow busting the water pipes and flooding the basement. Sean sat in his room, in dry clothes, and thought how much he missed that hematite. It helped him not care about things like this.
- - - * * * - - -
Megaera was carrying a handful of candles in different colors when she spotted the Hendersons giving completely false directions to some lost tourists in a car.
"Wow, you're in a good mood!"
Chris laughed. "Yeah, well this is our third dirty deed for today, and the day is still young!"
"Did the pipe bomb you were making work?"
Doug grinned in a really disturbing way. "Oh man, did it do the job!"
Megaera hastily scribbled 'To Faye' on the front of an envelope, stuffed the phone number she'd stolen inside it, and slipped it into the mailbox next door. Hopefully Faye would intercept it before her mother did. Then again, she seriously doubted Faye's mom (the poor woman) would dare to open it.
After that she helped them load all their things into the trunk of Galen's car and they zipped off. Galen looked a little green; apparently Melanie gave him some sort of tea that made him sick.
"If you're sick, don't drive. I'll drive us there."
Galen's hands clenched around the wheel. "Not a chance in hell, derby racer."
"Jeez! I knock over one tree and nobody ever forgets." She pouted, but it was an act. Mostly Megaera felt so incredibly relieved that she'd gotten that mess with Faye over with, she'd have felt good if she got kicked off the soccer team. Well, maybe she didn't feel quite that good.
- - - * * * - - -
Faye got a very puzzling letter that morning. No postmarks or anything, just a note 'To Faye'. So she'd opened it, and out fell a tiny square of paper with a phone number on it. She'd put it on her dresser, sipped a glass of thick Bordeaux, and stared at it. Suddenly she understood. She smiled smugly and grabbed her phone off the hook.
The voice on the other end had a distinct English accent. "Hello, Wyvern Antiques Shop."
"Is this 'headquarters'?"
There was a staticky pause, then a click like someone was listening on an extension. "Who is this?"
"I want to speak to someone in the Black Cabal. Someone with enough authority to move a teapot without having to fill out a form."
"What do you want?"
"I said," Faye said slowly, dragging out each word, "that I want to talk to someone in charge. Perhaps the person listening in on us?" She could almost feel their frustration. She chuckled.
"Yes, what do you want?" A new voice, one that sounded colder and more professional.
"My name is Faye Chamberlain, and I want what's mine."
- - - * * * - - -
He huddled in the corner seat, the one by the bulkheads. He ignored the in-flight 'refreshments' and the movie offered, for his mind burned with plans to come. So soon . . . . he had waited for so many years, and now the time to reclaim what should have been his was almost upon him. He would find the witch twins and they would get . . . . reacquainted.
When first he had the pleasure of meeting them, they had burned with power. He was astonished their skin wasn't red-hot to the touch. He had known then and there that he had to have them. He had to show them new things, such as how blurred the line of pleasure and pain was. Much pain, yes. Pain for them both, pain that weakened them. He would kill one, and the more unstable one would be his pawn. He would feed off her soul, yes he would. Not at once, something this perfect had to be savored. For months or years he would take tiny bits, and when she was finally gone he would have the power to bring the world to it's knees.
He would make himself king, yes. With a pretty purple cape, and a crown, and stone dolphins near the throne. And after that, when he got bored, he would destroy the world. Why not?
He pulled out the photograph and touched the forehead framed in golden curls, trying to smooth out the fine lines of worry between her eyebrows. He stared into mesmerizing blue eyes, eyes with flecks of white. He would eat her soul. Yummy.
He hadn't realized he'd said it out loud until he saw the stewardess staring. Doe eyes, wide and afraid. Hoping against hope that trouble would pass by. He pulled out of his carry-on suitcase an hourglass full of sand and watched the crystal grains trickle past one another.
"Let her fear
fear the reaper
for she knows what short time there is left
once it was years
they dwindled to months, then to weeks
now days remain
each crystal-clear second
perfectly formed
miniature eternity
precious bittersweet in the knowledge that it will end;
the end is near."
"He. Hehehe. Ha ha ha hah hah hah HA HA HA HAH HAH HAH HA HA HAAAA . . . ."
A man sitting next to the wild-haired lunatic who was twitching like a dead beetle raised his hand. "Stewardess! Can I have a different seat?"
- - - * * * - - -
Because this was such an important ceremony, they inscribed a circle for each of the four elements. It was powerful protection. Of course it would have been even more powerful if Galen had let them talk someone into completing a Lesser Circle, but he was very stubborn. He didn't want any outsiders, i.e. those not belonging to the select club called 'immediate family', to attend this ceremony. He still didn't completely trust the New Salem coven.
They sprinkled fresh rose petals straight from the florist's over the ground. Then they laid the wand on a bed of ice in a silver dish. Galen said that had the important purpose of keeping the energies from 'exploding and roasting us all.'
They joined hands around the wand and began invoking the powers. Alexa could feel them all around her, wondrous and mysterious. Suddenly, irrelevantly, she remembered her dream about Rhiannon and her sacrifice. Rhiannon had seen the powers that way too.
She could feel raw undirected energy flowing around their circle, not coming in because the time wasn't right. She could also sense the energy smouldering inside the petrified wood of the wand. It was energy trapped when the living thing turned to stone, crystallized inside it and maturing over literally millions of years. It was like embers buried in the ash, a few well-placed puffs of air all that was needed to start flames licking up again.
The four circles around them changed the direction of spinning; from counterclockwise, blocking energy, to clockwise which allowed it to pass in. At the same time the wand glowed with light. The ice around it melted to water that splashed in wavelets against the sides of the bowl as the wand vibrated with energy.
Megaera was busy focusing all the tremendous energy she had at the wand. Galen was directing the weaving of energies for a mile around to make sure the changes here didn't destroy things elsewhere. After all, all the lines of power were interconnected. Alexa was there for the subtle work of aligning the energies converging inside the wand so they would be straight and predictable. When the wand started to glow she broke into a cold sweat. The wood was fractured. It was laced with hairline cracks that were disturbing the vibrations of power in their delicate net. It felt like stones being thrown into a lake, rippling the surface and destroying the tranquility with random elements.
They were in trouble. And neither Megaera nor Galen knew it.
- - - * * * - - -
Melanie looked over the table at Laurel, who was expertly clipping spring's early flowers for a bouquet. "It got so bad, Laurel, that I couldn't even look myself in the mirror. I mean, I was always telling others not to cast love spells because they were unethical, and I felt like a hypocrite! But now it's all taken care of. I've undone the spell with some herbal tea Galen didn't really appreciate."
"Good for you Melanie! And since you're still happy, I guess he didn't dump you then and there?"
She smiled slightly. "No. You were right, he acted as if nothing was different. I almost can't believe it, but he is still in love with me."
Nick had been making his way up path to Laurel's house, a jar of dry chamomile in one hand and a note from Diana in the other. He heard their voices drifting through the window left open to enjoy the crisp spring weather. Nick stopped himself just a second before he knocked on the door.
"See? What did I tell you? You cast the spell on Galen but in the meantime he really did fall in love with you. I'm not surprised, you two are just perfect for each other."
Laurel handed the vase of arranged flowers to Melanie, who got up to take it to her house. "Looks like we'll be just perfect for a long time too." She walked out the door, half turned to talk to Laurel. "Now remember, don't tell a soul about this."
Laurel's breezy answer drifted from the pantry. "Don't worry. Cross my heart."
Melanie smiled, turned, and almost walked into Nick.
She was so startled she nearly dropped the flowers. He stared at her, his expression cold and his eyes positively arctic.
Melanie stared at him, startled mute. It was almost a full minute before she gathered her wits. There was little point in pretending, he must have heard something.
"How much did you hear?"
His next words shattered her faint hope that he hadn't overheard the most incriminating parts. "Nearly everything."
Tears filled her eyes. "I see. What are you going to do?"
Nick carefully set the jar down on doorstep, pinning the letter underneath it. "At first I thought it was none of my business, just something between you and him. But Galen isn't the kind of person you should ensorcel." He stood up and looked into her teary eyes. "If you don't tell him, I will."
She touched the white jade pendant around her neck, a gift from Galen a week ago. When she finally answered her voice was faint. "He left for some sort of ceremony. When he gets back . . . . I'll tell him then."
Nick nodded and walked away. Melanie clutched the pendant and ran back inside the house. "Laurel!" she choked out.
- - - * * * - - -
The Cabal member's voice turned even more icy. "What do you claim we have, and why on earth would the Cabal be interested in anything of your's?"
"You do keep safety deposit boxes, don't you?"
Over the line Faye heard someone choking. This was fun. "Well, yes."
"My family, the Chamberlains, left some items in a deposit box when they left for America. I'm claiming what belongs to my family."
"The Chamberlains, and the Meades and the Armstrongs and all the others left as fugitives. They forfeited any rights to property or items."
"But that was generations ago. Surely you won't blame me, who had nothing to do with it since my grandparents weren't even born then, for their - " she clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm as she tried to keep her voice normal " - well, their unfortunate mistakes?"
There was a long silence, and voices muttering softly. Then, "In all my years here - "
"You mean your century there, don't you?" she put in sweetly.
" - YEARS here, I've never seen such nerve. Do you know what we could do to you if you so much as use a toothpick wrong?"
Faye took a sip of blood-red wine from an elegant crystal goblet. "What that means is, I'm in my rights and you don't want to waddle down to the deposit boxes."
He spluttered, cursed, and transferred her to a terrified-sounding young woman who jumped every time Faye laughed. She asked for the password and Faye gave the one written in her family's Book of Shadows.
"Well, there's a wedding dress, rather decayed, and some battered coins, and in the corner a child's toy . . . . "
Faye snapped, "I'm only interested in magical items, books, and such."
She smiled when she heard her jump again. "Well, I - I'm not sure," the woman said hysterically, "let me see . . . . oh. My. God."
Faye pulled the phone from her ear and glared at if it could transmit her murderous look. "What?" she barked impatiently.
"Um - um - there's this - it's sort of dusty - " Faye took a deep breath while the attendant whimpered. "It's so red, my god - "
"What! Is! It?!"
It - it's a crystal ball. My god, is that a ruby? It's round. Um, clear, good imaging. It's got this gold base, this claw holding the ball . . . . "
"I want it. Fly it air-mail to me. I want to be holding it in my hands within a week."
"Yes ma'am." whispered the girl.
Faye hung up, leaned back on her red satin bed, and toyed with the star ruby necklace she wore. She started chuckling throatily. Finally - finally - she would have the last of the master tools. The one her ancestors were too gutless to bring. Faye stroked one of the kittens that stayed at her house and wondered what her irritating cousin would say when she saw Faye with the Dragoneye Orb.
- - - * * * - - -
Clouds had gathered, and yet another New England Spring rain misted them, dampening hair and robes. Alexa felt something like doom looming over her as they worked. The cracks on the wand were bad news, and neither her twin nor her brother saw them. She had to seal the cracks before - like an over-tightened harp string - the tension snapped and the energies flowing around crashed over them.
She smoothed out one after another, but there were so many and some ran so deep. She slid on the star sapphire ring and it seemed to help, but even though there were far fewer rifts left she knew - she just knew - she wouldn't be done in time.
The minutes before disaster slid by (too fast) oh god oh god, no way she'd get done (why can't they see this?!) They were in trouble they were in trouble they were in trouble . . . .
There was a tearing snapping sound like land, sea, sky and fire all ripped at the same time. The water around the wand bubbled and hissed as it boiled. The clouds above turned black and a single bolt if lightning, not yellow but so hot it was blue, burst out of the sky and struck the wand. The water turned into a cloud of steam that three bodies flew through when the thunderclap of released energy knocked them into the air.
When Galen came to, he expected to find himself knocked to Timbuktu. Instead he saw it was a measly thirty feet. Rather than flying into Mount Everest, he'd just hit a nice soft tree trunk.
He groaned and slowly raised his head. Alexa had been knocked into the ditch by the road, and Megaera seemed all tangled up in a crushed bayberry bush. Megaera was groaning too, but she was slowly crawling to Alexa's side. She touched her throat, looking for pulse.
"'Live?" Galen croaked.
"Yeh," Megaera said as she slumped over. "Wha' hapn'd?"
Galen gingerly laid his head back down. He felt like he had been fried. "En'gy. Collide. Bad spell. Boom."
Alexa swallowed a mouthful of blood and said, without moving, "Wand crack. Try fix. No time. Bad 'Lexa."
Galen slowly pushed himself to his knees. Then, hanging onto that nice sugar maple that he'd hit, he pulled himself to his feet. "Ieeeee," he swayed and barely managed to catch himself. "I should have guessed. Wand needs some work."
"Thisssceremon'sover." Megaera proclaimed in a slurred voice, pushing herself to her feet. She gave a hand to Alexa and they got the wand. It looked different, less grey and more like polished redwood. They got it and their Books of Shadows, but they left the silver bowl. It had been melted to slag.
Galen drove them into New Salem and stopped at a gas station. They bought cola and ice packs for aching bodies and sat on the sidewalk talking.
"What happened back there?"
Galen rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, I was so excited about the ceremony I forgot that all wands of this quality take forever to create. I mean, this is - this is an heirloom, like a Da Vinci painting. The things we'll be able to do with the wand when it's finished - they boggle the mind. But because it's so powerful it has to be finely tuned. This was just the first step in tuning it."
Meg packed more ice around her sore ribs. "How long do you think this will take?"
Galen blinked slowly. Ever since the ceremony he'd felt weird, like his mind was moving at lightspeed and his body was caught in cement. "Years. But then again, a year or a lifetime isn't very long at all. And I like just making something this important. I mean, your great-great grandchildren probably won't know our names and if we somehow met them we wouldn't like them, but they'll still be using this wand and admiring the craftsmanship. This may be the only lasting mark we leave on the world."
Alexa nodded but truth be told, his words flew by her. The energy that had hit the wand, it had been raw. Primal. It was pure power, not divided into four meager categories. Her heart was racing and she felt so wild and crazy, she just knew she was going to do something off the wall but she didn't care. She was going to ask Meg about the feeling, or rather shout above the roaring in her own ears, when Meg got up and ran off. Galen didn't notice, he just slowly walked to the car and slowly drove away.
For a second Alexa felt separation anxiety. She'd never done well all alone. Of course, she was almost never alone so she didn't have much to go on. The thought that she could do anything she liked was exciting and it pulled her in. If Galen and Meg could just go off; leave her and have fun, well then she could too.
The world was strange and grey. Megaera wasn't too disturbed by that, since it just meant she was 'burnt out' by power, but it was confusing. It was difficult to do anything when the world spun and everything she saw was grey, when her head buzzed with meaningless noise and she was so bewildered she couldn't think.
In that condition she ignored most strange things, like men whose toupees still have a price tag dangling from them, or talking dogs. But what she saw down the street was so strange, it cut through the weird fog in her head and reached her.
The Hendersons were creeping out of their jeep. They had rope, cans of paint, and crowbars. They cast furtive looks up and down the street and ran, hunched over, into McMinnville Park. Causing trouble again no doubt. Meg smiled and ran after them. She had to be a part of this.
She slithered under the low branches of the large yew bush they were hiding under. She looked up to see Doug with a crowbar held over her head.
"Jesus, Meg! I almost brained you!" He grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hollow under the bush.
Megaera pulled a stick out of her hair and asked, "What's up?"
Chris whispered, "We're gonna break into the mayor's office and do some free redecorating as part of our community service."
"Teach them to ticket us for going a measly 40 miles more than the speed limit."
Meg grinned at them. "Yeah, those signs are just suggestions of what you could do."
Chris shushed them again. "It would suck of we got caught, you guys." He turned to Megaera. "So you in?"
Meg smiled. "You better believe it."
- - - * * * - - -
Galen honestly didn't mean to forget Alexa. Her safety was high on his list of priorities and had been for some time. But the fact was, he had a headache so painful it almost made him deaf. He was incapable of thinking. And Alexa didn't really have a presence. Megaera was the loud, wild one you couldn't miss if you tried. Alexa was always so quiet, he just assumed she was in the back seat.
By the time he pulled up in the driveway, his headache had lessened from something so unbelievably painful no medicine or surgery would ever help, to something only excruciatingly painful which just might be fixed by four or five extra-strength Tylenol. He was in such a rush for relief that when he ran inside and pounded up the stairs for the bathroom, he didn't notice Melanie sitting in semi-darkness in the living room.
He got the Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet and chewed it up, hoping it would work faster that way. He stared at his tired and stressed reflection in the mirror above the sink and decided to wash the pills down with something stronger than water.
When he walked into the living room itself he saw Melanie sitting there, brooding. He stopped with his hand on the cool brass knobs of the liqueur cabinet. "Hi, Melanie."
She summoned up a smile. "Hi. Why don't you sit down?"
He blinked slowly, wishing the Tylenol would work soon, then realized she wanted to talk to him. He sat down on a pine armchair across from her and the couch. Melanie touched the jade necklace he had given her, then leaned forward and took one of his hands. "Do you love me?"
Galen grinned. "I love you."
She had to smile at that. But it quickly faded. "How much do you love me?"
"Well . . . . a lot." Melanie raised an eyebrow. "Okay, that was really poetic. I'm sorry, I've had a rough day. But I really do love you."
"Would you love me no matter what?" He looked blank and she pushed on. "Even if I did . . . . something bad?"
He sobered up. "Probably." Her face twisted slightly in some pain beneath the surface. "I'm sorry, Melanie, but there are some hypothetical situations where it would be over between us."
She blinked quickly. "Such as . . . . "
He leaned his elbows on his thighs and rubbed his hands together. "Well, um, the first thing that springs to mind is if you killed someone of family. Or, if you sold us out to the Cabal . . . . " He paled slightly at that thought. Then he shook his head and stared into her eyes. "Why are you asking this?"
A tear slid down her cheek, sparkling against her creamy skin like a diamond. He would have brushed it off, but she grabbed his hands and held them tightly between her palms. "Galen - " her voice broke " - I don't know how to say this. I put you under a love spell."
Galen stared at her. Oh no.Oh no. She might as well have stuck a knife in his ribs. A sudden surge of strength carried him to his feet. He yanked his hands out of hers like he'd been burned. He walked quickly to the doorway of the living room, then turned back and started to pace. On the third trip by her he stopped. "Dammit Melanie!" he yelled. She jerked, then bent over and started crying. He paced by several more times. Then he stopped, breathing hard. He went to the liqueur cabinet and drank a mouthful of scotch. He paced another time. Then he stood in front if Melanie and slammed the bottle down on the coffee table. "How could you do this?" he snarled. "How could you?! I trusted you, I believed you, and all this time when I've gone on and on about how we're together, you've just been using me!"
Melanie sobbed harder. "I'm sorry! So sorry!"
Suddenly it was quiet. The only sounds were her sniffles and Galen's heavy breathing. Slowly, knowing she'd hate what she found, Melanie looked up.
Galen's eyes were closed. On his face was a look of pain and rage and self-loathing. Then he opened his eyes and stared at her with his old look. Colder than ice, trusting no one, taking nothing on faith. "Why are you sorry?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft. "This is my fault. You think you're the first witch who wanted to use me? There were others in England. Nasty creatures, going among them was like walking into a pit of adders. Thing is, there I knew what they were so I ignored them. But here I honestly didn't expect it. You witches are . . . . provincial. I thought you hadn't yet fallen to such things. Looks like I was wrong after all; you're just like them."
Melanie didn't know what to say. Her hand went for the jade dragon strung around her neck. His mocking glance stopped her. She whispered, "Galen, I love you."
Galen started and for a fraction of a second he looked like a little boy, hurt and lost. Then the old mask fell back in place. "Yeah," he said quietly, "I know. I know what your love is like, too." He walked out the door.
Melanie watched his deep blue Dodge go down the street. She could hear rain starting to drizzle on the pavement. She looked at the nearly full bottle of scotch and poured herself a glass.
- - - * * * - - -
Alexa used to think that robbing people and sneaking in places took incredible planning and skill. It didn't. She could get the wallet of anyone on Main Street, she just did what they showed in the movies. Accidentally bump into someone, sneak their wallet while apologizing, and be on your way. She made three hundred dollars in fifteen minutes and was thinking about a career as a thief. All you really needed was a little guts.
She started laughing. She could do anything - anything! She had to do something wild, something risky. On impulse, she tore off a man's jacket and snapped it through the air. It caught fire. She ran screaming and hooting down the street waving it. Then she dumped it, decided she was thirsty, and walked into the first house she same by. Just a random house, she didn't know who lived in it and didn't care. A little exploration revealed the kitchen. She turned on the tap and left it running to get actually cold water while she poked around looking for cups. She found a shelf of wine glasses and filled one. Just then a woman with poorly dyed hair that weird red-purple color walked in.
"What on earth are you doing in here?!"
"Getting a glass of water," Alexa explained matter-of-factly.
"You can't just walk in her and -"
Alexa met her eyes and, sure enough, the woman trailed off and stared at her blankly. Keeping up the full force of her stare she said, "Your lawn needs to be mowed."
" . . . . I . . . . . don't know how to mow . . . . " the woman replied distantly.
"That's pathetic. Find the owner's manual and read it." The woman left. Alexa smiled smugly and opened the refrigerator, looking for a snack. The kitchen door opened again and Alexa sighed, thinking she'd have to entrance yet another idiot.
Mark Gallagher slowly looked around the edge of the open refrigerator door. "Alexa? Um . . . . what are you doing?"
She rolled her eyes. "Getting some yogurt." She grabbed a carton, sat at the kitchen table, and started eating it. He sat down across from her.
"You always just walk into people's houses?"
She smiled sweetly. "As if you can stop me."
He nodded. "True enough. You wouldn't happen to have a fake I.D. would you?"
"No. Why?"
"Cause there's this concert on now, but I can't get in because I'm under 18."
Alexa smiled secretively. "Oh, we'll get in all right."
Chapters 13 - 17 Chapters 22 - 25
