Page 53 of Forged

“Pagan, Mum,” Nick said, suddenly feeling incredibly tired.

“Good Lord, you must be joking,” his mum said as she followed them to the end of the hall and down the stairs. “I was willing to let the homosexual thing slide. Everyone goes through a phase like that at some point in their life. But witchcraft? I absolutely draw the line at exposing my grandchildren to witchcraft.”

“You do realize how offensive it is to berate someone else’s faith, don’t you, Mrs. Turner?” Bax said casually as they reached the ground floor and headed to the outside door.

Nick sent Bax an apologetic look. He was grateful when Bax smiled and even winked at him in return, but he could see the same strain and exhaustion with it all in Bax’s eyes that he felt himself.

“Witchcraft is not a religion,” his mum insisted, her shoulders stiff and her nose tilted up. “It’s a ridiculous fancy that teenage girls take to when they’re being rebellious against their parents.”

“Paganism has been practiced in Britain for thousands of years, long before Christianity,” Bax said, though he wasn’t enthusiastic in his own defense.

That panicked Nick. His mum was just one more thing to grate on him and make him second-guess their entire relationship. It was one more reason for Bax to turn around and run.

“It’s very much a religion, Mum,” Nick said, determined to do whatever he needed to keep Bax with him and happy. “I think it’s nationally recognized as well. There are ceremonies at Stonehenge at Yule and Litha.”

Bax glanced quickly at him like he was impressed Nick knew the names of the midwinter and midsummer holidays.

Nick smiled back at him, glad he’d been reading up on all things Pagan, not just Ostara. It was all a part of his efforts to meet Bax where he was used to being.

“Stonehenge,” his mum scoffed as they walked along the path that went past the family parking lot and into the back garden. “They’re a bunch of hippies and deluded tourists, that lot.”

“Stonehenge might be filled with tourists,” Bax said, slightly more energy in his words, “but I can assure you, there are plenty of us who still practice the old religions.”

Nick’s mum clenched her jaw and used the excuse of a squirming, fussy Macy to ignore Bax’s answer. She was seriously starting to annoy Nick. The only thing that gave him a hint of satisfaction was that Macy was reaching for Bax, like she wanted him to carry her instead of Granny.

“There’s nothing wrong with Ostara,” Nick said, losing his patience. “Easter is pretty much the same thing. Christianity stole most of its major holidays from the pagans anyhow.” A burst of inspiration hit him as they neared the edge of the garden and he said, “Why don’t you stay and do the ritual with us? Then you can see that it isn’t witchcraft at all.”

No sooner were those words out of his mouth than he saw the looming, silver glint of his unicorn statue rolling into the garden from the other side of the house. More than that, Rhys and Early, Robbie and Toby, Blaine and Alfie, Nally, and Rafe were all either pushing or pulling the cart someone had lifted it into, and they were all dressed in what looked like adult-sized chorister’s robes. Robert and Janice were with them as well, andso were Rebecca and her two lovers. The entire Hawthorne clan had turned out at exactly the right and wrong time.

“Oy, Bax!” Blaine called out, rushing ahead of the others to meet them at the table that was decorated like an altar. “We’re ready to ritual the fuck out of Ostara. And look! We brought the unicorn up to be our craven idol!”

Nick closed his eyes and shook his head. Of all the things they didn’t need just then….

“Horsey!” Jordan called out, then wriggled to get down.

Nick was carrying too many things to stop him, and instead of telling Blaine and the others off for not taking things seriously and causing trouble, he had to grab the bag that tried to fall off his shoulder and chase after Jordan instead.

“This isn’t witchcraft,” Nick’s mum hissed, glaring at the pack of Hawthornes in their robes as they brought the unicorn statue to rest behind the altar table. “This is Satanism.”

“Mum, it’s really not,” Nick said, a headache beginning to pound him.

“Idolatry isn’t a part of Paganism,” Bax said, walking forward with a little too much annoyance in his steps and putting his load of snacks and things down on the edge of the table. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“Sorry,” Blaine said, losing his goofy grin. “We just thought that the unicorn would be a nice touch.”

“It’s not ready to be moved out of the forge yet,” Nick said as he dropped his bag and caught up with Jordan. “I haven’t tested its stability.”

“Is this why you’ve been making this monstrosity?” Nick’s mum demanded. “To worship in your Satanic rituals and to make a mockery of everything that Christ lived and died for?”

Things were getting desperately out of hand fast.

“No, Mum. I made the sculpture because it’s art and for the competition in May,” Nick said, frowning at Raina’s family.

“It does look nice, though,” Rhys said apologetically.

“We can take it back, if you’d like,” Nally offered with a genuinely penitent look.

“No, it’s fine,” Bax said with a sigh. “Let’s just get the ritual over with so we can move on to dinner and egg decorating.”

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