Bitch Witch (33 page)

Paul sank to sit on the floor beside her. “Sarah, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO turn back time. There are universal absolutes,” Sarah said, uncertain how long they’d been sitting on the floor rehashing what had happened.

Paul rubbed a hand over his face. “It sounds like you only slowed time down, but that’s impossible too.”

Sarah leaned her head against the cabinet door. “No. I didn’t slow it down. I think maybe
I
sped up, and everything seemed slow to me.”

“That sounds like a crazy theory—although, light
can
move far faster than anything, even hot grease. But we’re not just talking about light. The human body can’t move that fast. It’d disintegrate. It’s not possible for you—or me—to move that fast and survive.”

“I can’t explain it, Paul. I don’t know how it works either.”

“Do you think you can do it again?”

Sarah tried several times to make time slow again, or speed herself up, but couldn’t.

“Hold on. However this works, do you realize what this means?” A smile lit his face, erasing the worry from his eyes.

“You’re not going to need a skin graft?”

“Besides that, which I appreciate. If you can cast with light, you’re never going to have an excuse to use dark matter again.”

“Paul?” Henry’s voice called from upstairs.

Paul put a hand on Sarah’s arm and a finger to his lips. She rolled her eyes, but nodded in agreement. Paul stood and pushed the trays across the counter as his brother approached the kitchen.

“Hey, I was going to call you. Breakfast is ready.”

“We’re leaving. I got us flights.”

“Is Kathleen okay to travel?” Paul pressed his bare leg against Sarah’s arm as though warning her to stay down. She wondered if he thought she’d pop up and beg Henry not to go.

“I’m fine,” Kathleen said. Sarah could hear the sound of her dragging a suitcase over the hardwood floor as she joined Henry at the kitchen island. “I’m sure I can handle sitting in a plane. I could use some help with my suitcase, though.”

“I’ll get it for you,” Paul said. “Do—do you want to have some breakfast before you go?”

No one answered. A minute later Sarah heard the bathroom door slam in the entryway.
Awkward.

“Why did you mention food?” asked Henry. “Dammit, Paul! That’s insensitive.”

“I’m sorry. She doesn’t look good at all. I don’t think she should be traveling.”

“Well, we can’t stay here!”

Sarah tried to stand. Paul pressed his leg harder against her and reached a hand down, trying to cover her mouth.

“What about a hotel? Or even a hospital, Henry?”

“That’s where we’ll go when we get to Dallas. She was in a hospital there years ago when she had this problem. I thought this was behind her, but either the stress of what I put her through, or maybe even all the vomiting—I’ll never forgive myself.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know it’s not, and we both know whose fault it is! Grab your suitcase. The airport is a bit of a haul from here. We’re racing the clock.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re coming with me. I’m not leaving you here alone with that crazy wit—woman.”

“She’s a witch, Henry. You can say it,” Paul said evenly. “Try to remember she’s also my friend. I’m not leaving her yet. She needs me.”

Sarah leaned her head against his leg and resisted the urge to hold onto it.

“Bullshit,” said Henry.

“It’s not. I’m not downplaying what Kathleen went through, but remember what Sarah went through for six weeks. She paid the price for what she did.”

“Paul, I will drag you out of here.”

“No, you won’t. For starters I’ll be home when Dad’s car is done—which if you can believe, is finally in the painting phase of repair. You have no idea how many excuses they’ve come up with for the delays. But for another thing, I don’t need you to drag me out of here. I can take care of myself. Lastly, if you try to, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”

Henry laughed. It made Sarah smile. It was different than Paul’s laugh, deeper and briefer. She’d never heard Henry genuinely laugh before. Everything she knew about him had been spell-induced and that made it all seem like a lie.

“Fine, but if you don’t call me every night I’m calling the cops.”

“Deal.”

“Help me with these bags while Kathleen is in the ladies.”

Paul didn’t look down at her, but pointed a finger as though ordering a dog to stay. Sarah resisted the urge to bite it.

No sooner had the men shut the front door than Kathleen returned. Sarah stayed down as Kathleen’s shoes echoed across the hardwood and came to a stop at the far side of the counter. She heard the clink of a glass and the sound of someone swallowing.

“I know you’re there,” said Kathleen, setting the glass on the counter with a soft thud.

Sarah popped up. “How did you know?”

Kathleen shrugged. “I don’t know. How did Henry not? I’m sorry I lied about you last night. I told the guys you’d been bingeing.”

“I don’t care,” said Sarah, “that doesn’t bother me.”

“I do. It was a lie. I was embarrassed that I was doing it.”

Sarah chewed on her lip. “I’m sorry if something I did made you have this problem.”

Kathleen let out a humorless chuckle. “It’s hardly your fault the wine was bad.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night. Aren’t you suing me?”
But it is my fault. There was no bad wine, just a bitch witch.
A few strands of color—blues and violets—whispered their message into Sarah’s head:
Fix it.

“What? How?” Sarah asked out loud.

Kathleen ignored that. “Henry’s going to sue you, not me. I’d prefer to put this all behind me, and that includes you.”

Color gathered in Sarah’s center and she shoved it out in her words, trying to get this spell of light right. “It’s okay to eat good food, Kathleen, and hold it in your body. You don’t have to be perfect. You already kind of are.” She added the last bit a bit resentfully.
But it’s true.

Kathleen blinked as the spell blew over her. Sarah could swear she saw the colors alight on the woman’s skin and sink in. “I-I can’t control it. My stomach just does what it does.”

Sarah wove another wave of color into her next words. “It won’t anymore. You’re free of it.”

Kathleen put one painfully thin hand on the counter. “Henry doesn’t like—uh—soft women. That’s why I was surprised he was with you. Not that you’re too soft, you’re normal. But that’s not his type.”

The information shocked Sarah, not that she wasn’t Henry’s type, but that Kathleen would kowtow to what was. She heard the front door open and rushed her next words, although they contained no spell. They were simply her words. “If Henry doesn’t like the way you are, Kathleen, find someone who does. You’re beautiful.”

“Sarah!” Paul bellowed.

“What the hell are you doing to my fiancée?” Henry shouted at her.

The force of a spell shoved Sarah so hard she fell onto her backside and slid several feet across the kitchen floor.

Henry and Paul both hurried Kathleen out of the house and away from her, leaving Sarah alone to tenderly check her face for broken bones. She was pretty sure there weren’t any, but she had a swollen lip and a black eye.

That bastard is dog meat! When I can stand I’m going to kick his ass!

P
aul slammed the front door so hard when he came back inside the whole house shook. Sarah remained sitting on the floor against the sink, her head bent and her hands on her knees. She didn’t look up.

Paul didn’t say a word.

He slammed around the kitchen cleaning up the breakfast mess, keeping his distance from Sarah. She waited, clenching and unclenching her fists, wondering if the light would let her cast one of Aunt Lily’s spells or if there were nice rules she didn’t yet know.

Dark matter would have never allowed me to help Kathleen with her problem. There are definitely different rules.

I could heat up the bacon pan and smack him with it. That wouldn’t require any casting with light or dark!

After nearly an hour, during which Sarah’s anger didn’t abate but her butt bones grew sick of sitting on the hard floor, Paul stopped in front of her. “He’s gone and he’s never coming back. Deal with it. You’ll survive.”

“Fuck you, Paul,” Sarah growled.

“I have no sympathy for you! What the hell did you do to Kathleen? Did you learn nothing from your six weeks in a coma?”

Sarah repeated the phrase, not looking up.

“I have no idea why I stayed here. Henry is going to sue you, and if you’re lucky he’ll stop there. You should have heard him. I’ve never heard him talking like that. I don’t know if he really has access to corporate assassins, but if he does, I can’t blame him.” Paul slammed something onto the counter and the floor vibrated. “Look at me when I’m talking to you!”

Sarah looked up.

Paul’s mouth dropped open and he took a step backward. His entire demeanor changed. “Holy hell! Did Kathleen do that to you?”

Sarah staggered to her feet. “No, she didn’t. You did.”

Paul opened and closed his mouth. “What do you mean? I’ve never hurt a woman in my life.”

“Actually, you have. Let’s tally it up, shall we? You virtually knifed me three times.” Sarah held her arms out to display the bruised and scabbed wounds. The one with stitches looked particularly nasty. “You gutted me, and as I am a woman and both knifing and gutting hurt, I’d say you probably don’t need to make that statement again. At least not in front of me, not if you don’t want to suffer the same.” She lifted up the big grey t-shirt to expose the two-inch wide by eight-inch long glaring red wound on her stomach, and dropped it. “And today you slapped me in the mouth—knocked a tooth loose too. It’s a back one, or I’d probably have called in dark matter by now. From the way it feels, I think you punched me in the eye too.”

Paul gaped at her.

“What did you take?” she asked, hoping it was nothing, but knowing better.
There’s no way he found it. I’ve looked so many times
.

“What?”

“What did you take from this house? I’m assuming it was something from my mother’s room.”
Please let it not be that!

“What on earth are you talking about? I never took anything from your—wait.” Paul reached into his back pocket and tugged out his wallet. “I did take your picture. Right after Kathleen got out of the hospital and I put Henry in that room, I saw this. I thought he’d flush it or something.” He opened his wallet and displayed an old picture of Sarah. She recognized it and her heart sank.

He found it.

It couldn’t be worse. The picture had been taken right after she’d finished college and Aunt Lily had taken her to Greece on vacation. Like most dark magic, it looked harmless. Paul had no idea what he’d done.

Sarah fought to keep her voice calm. “You took it out of a frame. What did you do with it?”