Witch Fairy book 3 (4 page)

With a final, lingering kiss despite our embarrassment, Kallen and I climb down the rope ladder and head back to the house.  As we get closer, the snow really starts falling.  By the time we get to the front door, we’re starting to look like Yeti’s as large, heavy snowflakes fall on us.

We shake the snow out of our hair when we get in the house, making a wet mess on the welcome mat. As we tromp through the living room to the kitchen, all thought of the embarrassment we felt in the tree house has been erased by trudging through the storm.  That is, until Isla moves into our field of vision.  There’s a smile on her face but there’s a storm in her eyes.  And it looks worse than the one outside.

“Kallen, I would like to know how serious things have become between the two of you.  Is there to be a hand-fasting?”  As if someone pressed a pause button, everyone in the room stops moving and talking.

I want to die.  I want to pull so much magic from the earth that it makes me spontaneously combust.  And then I want it to pull all the little bits of me that are left, back to the earth with it.  A quick peek at Kallen tells me that he probably wants me to take him out, too.

Kallen finds his voice first.  “Grandmother, I assure you…”

“Their behavior has been appropriate at all times for people their age,” Dad huffs.  “Julienne and I have made certain of it.”

Isla inclines her head towards him.  “Of course, I did not mean to imply that you are not proper chaperones.”  From the look on Dad’s face, I don’t think he believes she’s very sorry.

“Isla, I don’t like what you’re insinuating.  My granddaughter is smarter than that.”

Oh god, our grandmothers are now arguing about our sex life.  Or lack of one.  This has to stop because I’m getting so embarrassed and agitated that I’m starting to pull magic.  “I’m a virgin.  Always have been and not planning to change that any time soon.  And I’m definitely not getting married at seventeen.”  I don’t think there’s even a word to describe the color of red my face is.  It feels like my cheeks are on fire.

Mom floats over to me, puts her translucent arm around my shoulders and kisses my cheek with her cool lips.  I’m surprised her lips aren’t singed.  “Of course you’re not getting married.  I believe Isla simply wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page about this.”  She turns to Isla and the reassuring smile she gave me is gone from her face.  It’s replaced by a glint of steel in her eyes.  “Right?” 

“Yes, of course,” Isla says, but I still don’t think she’s on the same page.  There’s some speculating going on behind those eyes.  I really hope she’s not planning a shotgun wedding – with me at the wrong end of the shotgun.

“We trust our daughter.  You may not trust your grandson – even though you should, but I do.  He’s been a perfect gentleman,” Dad says in a voice just a touch calmer than a growl.  Poor Dad.  It seems all of the magical people he’s met recently want to go out of their way to insult him.  At least they’re not talking about
his
sex life. 

“Athear, your dinner smells delicious,” Kallen says to relieve the intense silence in the room.  I’m so grateful to him for changing the subject that I just might kiss him right here in front of Isla.

“Please, call me Lailah.  I believe I’ve left the life of Athear behind me.”

“Except you still have to decide what to do with Grandpa,” I remind her, latching on desperately to the topic change.  Grandpa’s the King of the Witches and Grandma gets to decide whether he remains king or not. 

“Of course,” she says, and the look on her face tells me just how much she dreads the whole ordeal.  I can’t blame her.  I didn’t want to make the decision, either.

Mom floats from her protective stance next to me towards the stove to check on dinner.  “Xandra, why don’t you wipe off the table and get the plates and silverware to set it?  Jim, will you please let Barb and Zac know that dinner is ready?”  I would gladly scrub the table with my own toothbrush if I never have to have this discussion with any of them again.

Fortunately, dinner seems to relax everyone.  The conversation is kept light, if a tad tense, and we all enjoy the chicken dish Grandma made.  I make sure I act like it’s the first time I’ve had it.  I may have overdone it because the third time I compliment her, she starts to look suspicious.  But I think she still appreciates the effort.

After dinner, I volunteer Kallen to help me with the dishes while my parents and our grandmothers have coffee in the living room.  “I’ll wash, you dry,” I tell him as I clear the last of the dishes from the table and start the water to fill the sink. 

He nods but he doesn’t say anything and he has a strange expression on his face.  Frowning, I ask, “Are you okay?”

“I apologize for what my Grandmother said.”  He doesn’t look me in the eye as he speaks; he just stares at the towel I gave him.  “I did not realize that I wear my feelings for you so freely.”

Huh?  “What do you mean?”

He finally looks up.  “I should not have allowed my feelings to be so obvious.”

Now, I’m even more confused.  “I thought she wanted us to get together?”

He cocks his head to the side.  “I believe she still does, but she does not want me to embarrass the family by being forced into a hand-fasting.  Fairies are supposed to have more self-control than Witches or Cowans.”

I put the sharp knife I was washing back into the sink so I don’t get any ideas.  “Are you saying that she would think that
I
would be the one pushing
you
into sex?  No, don’t answer that.  I so don’t want to have this conversation.”  I haven’t talked about sex so much in one day since Mom’s birds and bees talk a few years ago.  And I’m more than ready to stop talking about it now.  Especially if it’s going to make me hate his grandmother.  Turning away from him and back to the sink, I shove my hands in the water to reach for a cup – completely forgetting about the knife I had just set there.  Which is now about half of an inch inside my palm.

I’m too wound up from everything else going on to panic.  So, I calmly reach into the sink with my other hand and raise the knife, still in my palm, out of the water.  “Will you please ask my dad to come here?” I ask, the irritation from a moment ago forgotten.  Kallen does a double take on my hand and the knife.  “Now would be great,” I say when he doesn’t respond right away. 

Throwing the towel down on the counter, he walks quickly from the room.  It only takes a moment for him to return with Dad. And everyone else.  Even Zac.

“Ow,” Zac says when he sees the knife.  “Doesn’t that hurt?”

I do my best to remember that I love him.  “Yes,” I say through a clenched jaw.

Dad must be following my line of thinking because he says to him, “Zac, why don’t you go into the medicine cabinet and get some gauze pads and the paper bandage tape.”

“Okay.”  He hurries from the room to find the requested items.

“Can I pull the knife out?” I ask Dad.

“There’s not a lot of bleeding right now, but there may be when you remove the knife.  Let’s wait for those gauze pads and Kallen can apply pressure to the wound.”

“Or she could simply use her magic to heal the wound.”

Dad turns his now scowling face towards Isla.  “Modern medicine has been fine for the past seventeen years; I believe we can take care of this easily enough without magic.”

“Jim, I think Isla’s right,” Mom says quietly.  She continues before Dad can say anything.  “Xandra needs to learn to use her magic more.  This is an excellent opportunity to practice her healing skills.”

Funny, I don’t consider a knife through my palm an ‘excellent opportunity.’ Oops.  From the sour look on Mom’s face, I must have mumbled that out loud.  “Sorry, it just hurts.”

Somewhat appeased, she says to Grandma, “Will you please get the healing herbs from the closet?”

Now I have to wait until they mix some plants together?  This knife isn’t getting any more comfortable, and I’m pretty sure I need some stitches, not plant paste.  I admit, patience is not one of my virtues, but still.  Forget it, I’ll just heal it myself.

I close my eyes and I feel the magic flood into me when it hears my call.  It’s a lot of magic, but there’s a lot of soft tissue that needs to be fixed.  Thinking back to the anatomy lessons my dad gave me during my homeschooling, I imagine the tendons, ligaments and vessels reversing the process of being severed.  The knife clatters to the floor as the repairing tissue forces it out of my hand.  When I open my eyes, my hand doesn’t even have a scar.

Mom is so excited; she’s bouncing a little bit as she floats and clapping her hands.  If she was still human, I’d be afraid she’s going to wet her pants.   “I knew you could do it!”  Since I still feel like an idiot for getting the knife stuck in my hand in the first place, I’m not nearly as excited she is.  But it is pretty cool that I can heal myself.

“Perhaps now would be a good time to continue our discussion from earlier?” Isla asks no one in particular.  Oh god, she wants to talk about sex again?  My face must be broadcasting my thoughts because she adds, “The discussion of whether or not you will accompany me back to the Fae realm.”

“Isla,” Mom begins in a warning tone that I know means don’t cross her.

But, I never was good at not arguing.  “Mom, I already said I would go.  I do have one condition, though,” I say to Isla.

“Xandra, you are not going.” 

Ignoring Mom means I may end up dying here instead of the Fae realm, but I do it anyway.  “Kallen has to teach me offensive magic.”

That shocks everyone into silence.  Finally, Grandma turns to Kallen.  “You agreed to this?”

With just the slightest nod of his head, he says, “Yes.”  That wasn’t a very convincing yes.  He better not be changing his mind.

“Do you realize how dangerous that is?”

Another curt nod.  “Yes.”

Oh, please.  It can’t be that dangerous.  “Why can’t I learn to be proactive instead of reactive?” 

Mom narrows her eyes at me.  “Being proactive and going on the offensive are two different things.” 

True, but I’m sticking with this argument.  “If I know someone wants to come after me, why should I have to wait until they use their magic first?  Why can’t I go to them?”

“Because we didn’t raise you to be a psychopath,” Dad says.  I think he’s teasing.  Maybe.  Okay, I really can’t tell at this point.

“I feel helpless waiting around, hoping that I’ll be able to defend myself from whatever someone throws at me.  Maybe if I’m a little more threatening, people will leave me alone.”  Doubtful, but I can dream.  Turning to Isla, I say, “I won’t go if you don’t agree to this.”

Her face is a blank page, just like Kallen’s often is, but her eyes tell a different story.  She looks like she’s sizing me up; determining if I mean what I say.  I try to look indomitable, but I don’t think I have enough experience with the expression to really pull it off well.  Finally, a tight smile touches her lips.  “That seems reasonable.”  Again, her eyes are telling a different story.  I don’t think she finds it reasonable at all, and I also suspect that she’s not used to people making demands before they do what she says.  Kallen’s personality is getting much easier to understand.