Almost to Die For (7 page)

“He was pale.” I touched my own face in memory. Ugh, you could almost see the veins at my temple. I brushed my bangs to cover them. Pointing to my blue eye, I said, “His eyes were like this one.”

“Was he tall? Handsome?”

I gave her a you-gross-me-out expression. “I didn’t notice that stuff. I mean, he might be my dad, you know?”

“You’re not sure that he’s your dad?”

I shrugged. “I’m pretty sure, but, you know, Mom won’t confirm or deny. . . . What am I supposed to think? ” I pulled off my shirt, and I wiggled into the halter top. When I put the blouse over the top, the combination was serious enough for the ritual, but looked a bit sexy too.

“You look outstanding,” Bea said sincerely. Bea tended toward voluptuousness, and, of course, always admired my stick figure. Meanwhile, I wished I were more curvaceous, like Bea. Bea stood and threw her arms around me and smiled at our reflections. “Like a witch without her hat.”

“Speaking of a perfect accessory, I almost forgot this.” I grabbed her necklace from where I’d looped it over my dresser mirror. The beads tingled warmly against my skin. The goddess figurine slid into the hollow between my breasts.

“Perfect,” Bea said.

We admired ourselves for a moment until I broke the mood by asking, “You know tonight is going to suck, right?”

“No, I’m telling you. My aunt Diane had a dream. Tonight is going to be remembered forever.” Bea’s aunt Diane was a well-known clairvoyant dreamer in the coven. It was rare her dreams didn’t come true.

“That doesn’t mean it’s going to go well,” I reminded Bea. “It could be remembered for being the most awfulest ever.”

“You know, your mom might be right. You do need a shot of self-confidence. You have to remember, Ana: you’re one of us. The family. The goddess doesn’t abandon her own.”

What about my other half—the half that came from my dad? But I kept my mouth shut, and nodded. “Yeah, I suppose a miracle could occur.”

“Now you’re talking,” Bea said.

 

 

LUCKILY, BEA KEPT UP A constant chatter in the backseat, because the car ride to the covenstead was awkward.

Mom had changed into a lovely full-length dress I’d never seen before. It was emerald green velvet and had long, droopy sleeves and gold embroidering like something out of medieval times. I tried to compliment her on it, but Mom turned the simple words into an argument about clothes.

Mom complained that I should have chosen something more befitting the seriousness of the occasion. I thought I had, and then grumbled about how there really was no point, since the whole thing was going to go to hell anyway.

For some reason, mentioning “hell”
really
set Mom off, and she hadn’t spoken since.

Maybe Ramses was the Prince of Hell.

“My mom sends her regards, by the way,” Bea said from the back.

That was the other elephant in the room, or car, as the case might be. Bea’s mom wasn’t part of the Inner Circle of the coven. She’d failed
her
Initiation. Just like I was about to.

“I wish it wasn’t against the rules for your mom to come,” I said kindly. What must it be like for her? All the members of Bea’s family were big muckety-mucks in the coven except her mom. Even Bea’s dad would be there, since he was an Elder and a high priest.

“Tonight is only for True Witches,” Mom said.

I shot her a hard look. That dig wasn’t necessary. And would she be so unkind when her own daughter was relegated to the Outer Court?

“Mom made an awesome treat for the cakes and ale,” Bea said, totally ignoring both the cruelty and the pity. “Papa took it with him, when he went to set up.”

“Oh, I love your mom’s cooking!” I said honestly, happy to pick up the cue to change the subject. Bea’s mom might not be Inner Circle, but she was a kitchen witch bar none. “What did she make?”

“Little savory pies. Enough for everyone, with vegetarian, vegan, nondairy, and gluten-free options!”

Bea and I laughed. It was a private joke. We always found all the different food restrictions amusing. Bea had once teased that witches like to make something for everyone, even the people who kept kosher!

“I don’t know what you find so funny. That’s a lot of work your mother put in,” Mom said humorlessly from the driver’s seat.

Boy, Mom was in a bad mood. How long until we arrived? I checked the dashboard clock: ten more minutes. The city was long behind us, and the car rolled along darkened cornfields, their tall stalks stiff and straight in perfect rows. Dark sky stretched overhead, twinkling with a multitude of stars. The moon rose full and round in the east.

“It couldn’t be a more perfect night,” I said. It had been cold and rainy just the day before, but today the clouds broke. The temperature of the evening air was cool, maybe sixty degrees. I’d brought along a cape to drape over my shoulders, but I wondered if I’d need it after all.

“Martha always makes the weather just right for the Initiation,” Mom said with a smile. Martha was the coven’s weather witch. In the Circle they called her “Grandmother Storm,” because it was rumored she once conjured a great storm after a long drought. “I wonder what your gift will be, Ana.”

Along with casting the circle, the initiates were expected to receive a kind of magical calling tonight, a special skill that they would develop while working in the coven. Bea hoped to be a diviner, since she loved working with astrology and tarot cards so much.

Honestly? What I wanted more than anything was simple. I wanted my name to be written in the great book. Everyone had said having an Initiation on my birthday would be so fortunate. I just wanted to survive it without too much embarrassment for everyone involved.

“Yeah, I wonder,” I said wistfully. “Did you get what you wanted, Mom?”

Instantly, I knew I’d said something wrong again. By the light of the dash, I saw Mom’s lips tighten. “No,” she said simply. “Not entirely.”

Bea and I exchanged a look. What do you suppose that meant? Bea opened her mouth as though to ask, but I shook my head in warning. Best not to push her. Mom revealed secrets only by accident.

We rode the rest of the way in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. I watched the fields roll by, which, after a turn to the left, quickly became tangled woods. We were nearly there! Shadows of oak and maple darkened the road, and Mom flicked on her high beams, watchful for rabbit or deer. Slowing the car, we scanned for the turnoff, which was easy to miss, thanks to the trees and the warding. I spotted it first. “There,” I said, pointing, as Mom smoothly guided the car onto an unpaved dirt road that was little more than tire tracks.

I loved the covenstead. Most of it was undeveloped, except a small cabin near a swampy lake. I’d spent many happy summer days in my childhood wandering the forest and swimming in the mucky water, sort of like some people did at their “cabins up north.” Except my cabin belonged to about twelve families, all of whom used it for recreation and, most often, for magic.

The night seemed darker the deeper we drove into the coven’s property. Tall trees crowded the border of the narrow path, and occasionally a branch of an overgrown bush scraped noisily against the car’s frame. The air felt expectant and heavy, like just before rain.

Something whitish flashed through the woods, as though at a gallop. I thought it might be the tail of a deer, so I said, “Slow down. There’s a buck or something out there.”

Mom put her foot on the brake, and we all scanned the forest. Hitting a deer could crack a radiator or worse. On top of potentially wrecking the car, there was the fact that killing a deer would be a very inauspicious beginning to the Initiation.

“Are you sure?” Mom asked after a moment of agonizingly slow progress. “I don’t see anything.”

Whatever it had been was long gone. “It must have really been cruising,” I said. “There’s no sign of it now.”

Mom brought the car up to speed, such as it was on the narrow passage. I recognized the stand of birch trees ahead; we were almost to the bend in the road that would bring the covenstead in view.

I hugged myself in the dim interior of the car. This was it. The big night. Bea and I had imagined this so many times; my heart began to race with anticipation. Just ahead, the woods opened to a clearing that was littered with cars. We bumped along the uneven grass to find an empty spot. Scanning the vehicles, I noted familiar bumper stickers and license plates. It looked like almost everyone was here already.

“Oh, I’m so excited,” Bea said, bouncing happily in her seat in the back.

Even Mom cracked a smile. “You girls will do great. I just know it.”

“Did Aunt Diane tell you about her dream? ” Bea asked Mom. “This year will be memorable.”

Mom gave me a proud, anxious look. “I hope she’s right.”

“Memorable doesn’t necessarily mean good,” I reminded everyone quietly as Mom pulled the car into an empty spot between a large oak stump and a dusty white van.

“Stop being such a pessimist,” Bea said with a broad smile. “It’s going to be great.”

I still wasn’t convinced, but Bea’s enthusiasm was infectious. I could feel myself smiling back, despite my worries. Once out of the car, Bea grabbed my hand with a giggle. She pulled me, bounding, to the back door of the cabin. I couldn’t help but laugh along.

The covenstead was built by hand sometime in the 1970s. Everything about it was very “back to the land,” from its rough-hewn exterior to the broad, communal floor plan. We let ourselves in and slipped our shoes off in the mudroom, which was really not much more than a long hallway with a few benches and pegs on the wall for hanging coats. There were several dozen shoes and coats already piled around, and we could hear the murmur of voices and laughter in the living room.

“I wonder if Nikolai is here.” Bea twirled her pigtails as she whispered in my ear.

I rolled my eyes. He was supercute and everything, but I didn’t quite understand why Bea got all weak-kneed around him. Maybe it was the band thing. Rockers always had a big appeal for Bea. Of course, who was I kidding? If I thought I had a chance with him, I’d be all over that. “We’re a bit late, though not quite on ‘pagan time’ yet,” I said, but Bea was already out of her shoes and into the living room to find out.

I took my time, slowly untying my Converses. Despite my growing enthusiasm, I remembered Ramses’ words of warning.

Just then, Mom came in, carrying a grocery bag of supplies from the trunk. “Oh,” Mom said, seeing me sitting on the bench. “I thought you’d be mingling by now. You’re not still nervous, are you?”

“Why won’t you talk to me about Dad? Is he really that horrible?” Despite myself, my voice trembled.

Setting the bag down by the door, Mom slid onto the bench next to me. She put an arm around my shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. “I suppose I do owe you some explanation. After all, in a matter of hours you’ll be a full member of this coven and all our secrets will be yours to keep as well.”

I could hardly believe my ears. I held my breath.

“Your father isn’t one of us. He’s from the other side. Our union—him and me—well, it was meant to be a peace treaty of sorts, but it was a mistake from the beginning.”

A
mistake? Did she mean me?

Mom saw my expression and shook her head. “It’s very important that before I tell you more, you pass your Initiation. You see, your father is at the center of all this, and I’m so angry at him for showing up tonight and putting crazy thoughts into your head. You need to focus on the Initiation. Try to put him out of your mind for now, okay? I promise it will all make sense soon.”

It was disappointingly vague, but I nodded. “You promise you’ll tell me?”

“Witch to witch,” Mom said, giving me a hand to shake.

I hesitated before taking Mom’s offered palm. “And if I don’t become a True Witch tonight?”

“Honey, you will. Blood will out.”

The second mention of blood tonight, and I felt even more uncertain as I shook on Mom’s solemn oath. “Witch to witch,” I repeated.

Mom gave me a quick hug and a gentle push in the direction of the living room. “I heard Nikolai would be here.” She smiled. “I think he likes you.”

“Mom!” I admonished, and I felt myself color with embarrassment. Besides, Bea would be so miffed if she thought that was true. To escape Mom’s sly, knowing smile, I hurried off to the crowded common room.

 

 

I DIDN’T LIKE THESE BIG gatherings. Even though I knew everyone here, I never quite knew what to do with myself. Bea could insert herself into a group without seeming rude or awkward. Not me. I just stood near the fireplace and watched with some jealousy as Bea moved from group to group easily. Finally, Bea caught my eye and waved me over.

Of course, she would have to be standing next to Nikolai when she did.