wanted for himself, then neither of us
would’ve had to change. Lay the blame where it’s deserved, squarely
in front of your dad. I swear the world has never known a more sick
and evil bastard than Damien Cummings.”
There were several moments of silence, and I
began to wonder if they were going to talk anymore.
“Is it bad that I thank the Universe every
day that he was destroyed? Even though my dad had to die so the
rest of us could live?” The sound of a slight sob entered my mom’s
voice. This wasn’t good. Dad couldn’t stand to see Mom cry about
anything.
“Baby, stop,” my dad crooned. “This is why
I’m always hesitant to bring this stuff up. I know it’s touchy for
you and I don’t want to cause you pain.”
“I know.” More muffled sniffles. I was sure
she was wrapped in my dad’s arms, by now. He’d never let her cry
without comforting her.
“Don’t you miss the connection we had?” Dad
asked softly.
“I still feel like we have a
connection.”
“We do! Of course we do. I’m not trying to
belittle that.” He sighed heavily. “I don’t know how to say this
without sounding like a jerk.”
“Just say it, Vance. You know you can tell
me anything.”
Another long pause stretched on before his
words came quietly. “I miss my witch, Portia. Damn, I sound like
such an ass. I know I still have all the important things with you,
but I’m lying to both of us. That magical connection between us—I
want it back. I want to feel your thoughts and emotions swirling
around inside my head, again. I want to be with you physically, and
have that connection wide open between us. I want to feel the tug
of our binding spell, tying us together so tightly that it hurts to
be apart. When I sucked the magic out of you, I lost such a huge
part of what I love about you.” Another pause. “Shit. I sound like
a first class idiot. Just forget I said any of this. You’re enough
for me the way you are right now. None of this is coming out
right.”
“Don’t walk away from me,” my mom said. “You
have nothing to be ashamed of. You’re speaking from your heart. And
if it makes you feel any better, then yes, I miss all those things
with you, too. But if the choice is to have my magic or have my
family, for me the choice is clear.”
“And I understand that. All I’m saying is
that I want your blessing to keep looking for a way to get that
back. Kyle has been helping me do some research and we’ve come up
with some ideas. But I need some of your blood to test things on
first. If your blood overreacts to the magic, we will know we can’t
reintroduce it to you.”
Again, there were several moments of
silence.
“Fine. I’ll give you some of my blood, but
only if you’ve told me everything I need to know. Are you keeping
any other secrets from me?”
“Just one, and it’s in the same vein.”
“Tell me.”
“Your step-grandpa, Hex, is also working on
a new jinn serum to reintroduce to you. He thinks because it was
separate from your regular magic, that it might not cause such a
violent reaction in you.”
“My jinn powers were much stronger than his,
don’t you remember?”
“Yes, but he still believes he can do
this.”
“So, you’re saying you want blood to send to
him in Sedona, too?”
“I am. Are you sure you’re okay with all
this?”
A wry laugh escaped her. “Not even a little.
What if you figure it out? What if you’re successful? You can’t
have forgotten that you crave my blood above all else. If you
reinstate my powers, I’m a sitting duck. If you drink from me,
you’ll be reestablishing that blood lust connection. Is that what
you really want? To constantly be tempting yourself with the very
thing you’ve worked all these years to avoid completely? Synthetic
blood or not, the fact remains that you’re still a demon warlock
and you thrive on the blood of fresh-blooded witches.”
“I’ve been living with a fresh-blooded
witch—one that smells surprisingly
Mary Smith, Rebecca Cartee