Page 29 of Resting Witch Face
“I’m a parasite.” Hiccupping breaths rocked both River and me when I spoke. “A leech. I killed … I killed my mother and Danika …” Ugly crying, I couldn’t continue for a while. “Danika promised her soul to Hell for me, too. You should’ve let me die.”
“Nonsense.” For the life of me, I didn’t understand why my grandmother was smiling.
All the times I dared to imagine a time where I had magic, finding out my mother had died trying to save me and my grandmother had signed over her soul had never crossed my mind. A thought occurred to me.
“You think something, or someone”—My hand sliced the air in front of my throat, mimicking cutting it— “Leviathan? Maybe that’s why this happened.”
“Short of an Archangel or another fallen, nothing could get near him,” Danika mused. “He is not dead, I’m sure of it. If he was going down, he would’ve taken me with him.” She might’ve sounded like she didn’t care, but I shivered in River’s arms.
“Why did he want your soul that much? Couldn’t he ask for something else? Weren’t you worried he could’ve asked for the souls of the entire coven?”
“All the covens in the world are not worth as much as a soul from a Byrne witch, dear.” Danika licked her lips, and my spine snapped straight. More secrets, I could practically smell them. I wouldn’t have felt River stiffen if I wasn’t sitting on his lap, but I ignored that for the moment.
“Why? Don’t get me wrong, I know you are the strongest witch they have, but why are Byrne witches so important?” Sissily took my fingers in hers, offering her support when I was ready to break. I didn’t see her move closer to where River held me like a child curled on his chest.
“Because our magic is different than everyone else’s.” Her pointed look told me not to keep asking. As if that had stopped me before.
“How different? Am I going to turn psycho now and kill indiscriminately?” It was a great possibility that didn’t occur to me before. Shadowblood being knocked out by a piece of falling ceiling played on repeat. “Dear Goddess, I will, won’t I?”
“Stop acting like a child, Hazel, and get a hold of yourself. You are not an animal. You are a witch.” All the times I’d wished for her to call me a witch, and now that she did, it felt sour somehow. “Let us be thankful that no one else apart from us present and Shadowblood saw your magic manifesting. I will deal with the High Priest when he wakes up.” I could’ve sworn I heard her mutter, “If he ever wakes up,” but that would be insane. Wouldn’t it?
“Ummm.” River’s hum of uncertainty made all of us turn to him at the same time. “I believe one of the Airborne witches was standing in the hallway staring at Hazel when I arrived. It totally slipped my mind until you said that.”
“Sasha,” Sissily and I growled the name as one.
“We need to find her at once.” Danika jumped to her feet, but I didn’t bother to move.
If Sasha saw my glow-stick impersonation, I would bet my life half the world knew it, too.
How bad could it be?
15
Iwon the battle of wills and convinced the three stooges we all needed a shower and a change of clothes. Food and rest were optional, and they were fast to dismiss both. Much to my chagrin, River also came to my house—well Danika’s if we were into semantics—announcing he would not let any of us out of his sight. When my grandmother pinned him with a glare capable of peeling paint off drywall, he had the decency to blush, something I found adorable.
It only made me want to frustrate him more for some reason.
Since we were not splitting up—Danika’s orders—until we were sure Sasha had grown a conscience or a personality in the last how many hours none of us had seen her, I won the battle of being the driver, too. River was the most agreeable on that one, followed by Danika, who thought it smart to remind me long lived and immortal were two very different things, and I should maybe lay off the gas a little. Sissily was the loudest and most vicious advocate of anyone else driving but me. Which of course made me zigzag through traffic like a mad woman, while my best friend tried to drill a hole in the floor of my car by slamming her foot on an invisible break.
I grinned the entire way home.
Shower and changing were done fast and methodically, no one saying a word as we passed each other in the hallway, the three of us with turbans of terrycloth wrapped around our heads and River shirtless with a towel clinging low on his narrow hips. I bet the jerk did that on purpose too, and I cursed up a storm when I tripped on nothing, nearly faceplanting in the middle of the hallway. I’d walked it my whole life barefoot and on six-inch nail-thin heels, yet that was the first time I stumbled. It wasn’t one of my finest moments by a long shot.
What irked me was the fact that Blondie could conjure clothing out of his ass—well, thin air, since we had no male clothing anywhere in our home—yet he had fresh-pressed dress pants and a button-down shirt to match the color of his eyes replacing the towel. When I found myself missing the wet terrycloth that used to cover his ass from my greedy eyes, I announced a little too loudly that it was time to jet.
Unfortunately, make up, as good as it might be, couldn’t hide the fact that me and my best friend were suffering from a major lack of sleep. Sissily had a death wish and was sucking on a coffee, but I needed something much stronger than caffeine. All my hopes and dreams were crushed when I swiped a bottle of tequila from the kitchen in passing. The three of them dove for me from all sides like I was a witch of old trying to steal their firstborn. No amount of grumbling or threats worked to get the booze back, so I gave up on the idea, albeit begrudgingly. To pay them back, I proceeded to flex my arms—more like wiggle my boobs at them—pretending to throw the blinking sigils at their heads.
Only the first time worked, each of then ducking or covering their head.
Danika was not impressed, I’d say that much.
By the time we started making the rounds in search of Sasha, I accidently busted a hole a quarter of an inch away from Sissily’s foot in the car, scorched River’s shirt sleeve, and caught Danika’s hair on fire. My excessive apologizing didn’t make me feel better at all, although all of them reassured me it was not my fault.
It wasn’t, but I still felt like a jerk.
“How long until I can control this damn thing?” Maybe asking for the umpteenth time would deliver a different answer. It didn’t.
“It’ll take practice and a lot of focus,” my grandmother said through her teeth when I took the turn too sharp, the tires squealing down the street.
