Family Magic by Chloe Price (books you need to read .TXT) 📕

I lay in bed for a long time, struggling with my thoughts, shying away from taking the real steps I needed to figure out what my problem was. For some reason I probably should have been aware of, I didn’t want to know. I wanted out! Why couldn’t that be enough?

As I sprawled there torturing myself, I heard my door creak and the soft pad of little feet. I watched Meira as she picked her way on tiptoe across my floor and to the end of my bed. She twisted a handful of quilt in her tiny fingers and peered up at me through her silky black bangs, eyes wide and almost completely black in the darkness.

“Are you awake?” She whispered.

“Nope,” I answered. “Come back later.”

Meira giggled. She had the cutest giggle, clean and fresh and genuine. She always made me feel way younger than I was.

I giggled back.

Meira made her way further up the bed, twirling her slender body, her pure white nightgown flaring out at her ankles as she half-danced, half-tiptoed to me. She leaned over the bed and touched my forehead with one little finger, face solemn, eyes glowing in the light from the street outside.

“You are blessed,” she whispered.

I choked on a snort and started writhing on the bed in mock agony.

“No, I can’t take it! Please, don’t make me be like you!”

She crossed her little arms over her chest and smirked at me.

“I’m not that good,” she said.

I grabbed her and dragged her onto the bed. She squealed, covering her mouth with both hands, tears brimming with mirth. I tickled her. She shook her head, lips clenched together, snorting laughter escaping.

“Nasty little ruggers,” I continued the torture, “say it!”

“No!” She tried to whisper. It came out a little louder than she intended. We both laughed, glancing at the partially open door.

“Say it!” I demanded in a whisper when no one came to shush us. “Say uncle!”

Meira giggled silently, her red-tinted face even more crimson from the effort of holding it in. She squiggled and squirmed underneath me, trying to catch her breath.

“Never,” she hissed.

I sat up and whacked her with my pillow. She squealed for real this time. She grabbed one of the decorative throw pillows Mom insisted accompany the stupid chandelier.

“Cheater!” She shrieked, smacking me with the satin monstrosity.

I popped her a good one, sending her tumbling across the bed.

“Brat!” I retorted.

Meira lunged with her pillow, but missed and ended up on the floor. We both froze at the heavy thump. I heard quick steps come to the bottom of the stairs.

“You girls better be in bed,” Mom called up to us.

We giggled.

“If I have to come up there…” The threat was an empty one. She hadn’t come up to stop us in years.

Still, we held silent, as much a part of the game as the rest of it. Finally, Mom’s footsteps retreated back to the kitchen. Meira gazed up at me from the floor and laughed.

I scooped her up and planted her on the bed beside me. She stretched out facing me. I flipped the covers over us. She snuggled into my neck.

“That was fun,” she said.

“So I can blame you if Mom decides to come check on us?”

Meira batted her lashes, Miss Innocence. “She’d never believe it was my fault.”

I didn’t mean to but with everything that happened in the last few hours, I took her words personally.

“Right. Of course. It’s always me screwing up. I forgot.”

I rolled over onto my back, focused fury settling on the stupid pink chandelier. I jumped up, stood on the bed and grabbed onto it. I pulled, but nothing happened. Meira made a noise, something sad and afraid, but I ignored her completely. Mad, beyond frustrated, I gave it a good yank. The whole thing let go. I hunched on the bed covered in pink crystals, stars, wires and a large chunk of ceiling. I’m surprised my mom didn’t come running, but I guess it wasn’t as noisy as it looked. Dust hovered everywhere. Meira stared at me, tears pouring over her cheeks.

“Syd,” she cried. “I’m sorry! Don’t be mad anymore.”

She covered her little face in her hands and sobbed. The giant heel I turned into reached out and grabbed her. I pulled her into my lap amid the mess I made and hugged her hard.

“It’s okay, Meems, it’s okay,” I rocked her and stroked her hair until she fell quiet. She pushed tears from her cheeks. The fear I saw in her face made me cringe, even though I knew she was less afraid of me and more afraid for me.

“Why don’t you love us anymore, Syd?” Meira went limp against me, her hurt a physical thing that made me want to take everything back.

“It’s not that,” I told her, stroking her hair back from her cute little horns. “Of course I still love you. What’s not to love, huh?”

She slid her hair over her horns to hide them. “That’s not what you said before,” she whispered.

I ran back over the conversation in the basement and winced. Oops.

“Meems…”

She sniffled and wiped her nose with her sleeve. “You hate us.”

“No I don’t.”

“You think we’re monsters.”

Oh crap. “Meira, look at me.” I forced her face up and stared her in those huge, demon eyes. “I don’t hate you, okay? Nothing you could ever do would make me hate you. And I don’t think you’re a monster.”

“I have horns,” she whispered. I flinched. How much damage had I done to my little sister? How had she gotten into the middle of my battles with our mother? For the first time I was painfully aware Meira probably suffered way more than Mom and I. She was going to carry our garbage with her for the rest of her life if I didn’t do something about it right then and there.

I scooted her further into my lap, pushing the remains of the ruined pink horror away. I held her tight and opened up my power to her, only a bit, as I spoke, happy and surprised when my stomach stayed quiet.

“You are the most wonderful, sweet and perfect kid ever,” I said. “I’m sorry you had to hear me lose my temper with Mom and Dad. Sometimes when I get mad I say stuff that isn’t quite the way I mean it.”

“You didn’t mean it?” She snuffled.

“Not that way,” I said. “I didn’t mean monster as in demon. I meant monster as in me turning into a bad person because I’m being forced into something I don’t want, that I never wanted.” Part of me whispered a denial but I shoved it aside to deal with later. “It has nothing to do with you or Mom or Dad. Just me. Okay?”

“How come, Syd?” Meira asked.

“I wish I knew,” I said. “I don’t want to be a witch. Is that really a bad thing?”

She thought about it for a second. “I guess not.”

“But?” I poked her. She managed a little giggle before getting serious again.

“Well, it’s just… you are a witch, Syd. How can you not want to be what you are? And how can you stop being it, either?”

Meira's sharp perception scared me sometimes. I let her go and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, closing off with some relief.

“That’s my problem to figure out, Meems, not yours. But,” I stroked her hair back from her horns, “I want you to remember no matter what happens, no matter where I go or what I’m doing or who I become, I love you and I always will. Okay?”

Meira threw her arms around my neck, kissing me on the cheek.

“I love you too, Syd,” she said.

She sat back and made a face. She fished around under her and pulled out a pink crystal. We both laughed.

“Guess I have some explaining to do in the morning,” I squinted up at the ceiling. “I could always blame it on Sass.”

Meira winked and waggled her fingers. I tried not to squirm as I felt her power gather like a web around her, tickling me. She was very careful, most of the magic shielded, as she sent out the force in delicate fingers, reassembled the chandelier before our very eyes. I watched as sparkling shards and glittering stars repaired themselves, wires twisting back into shape. The whole thing, now reattached to the chunk of plaster, rose toward the ceiling, settling into place. The seam faded and finally disappeared altogether. I knew if I turned on the light, it would be as though the whole thing never happened, right down to the last speck of dust.

Better her do it than me. My luck I’d slip or screw up and the whole ceiling would come down and the roof with it.

“Thanks, Meira,” I said.

“Anytime,” she grinned. She settled on my pillow and yawned. I lay down beside her, poking her to bring out a giggle.

“Don’t you have a bed?” I said.

“I like this one,” her eyes drifted closed.

“Meira…”

A silent plea lived in her gaze. I relented.

“’Night, Meems.”

She yawned again. “’Night, Syd. Love you.”

I stroked her cheek and watched her breathing settle. In a short time, she was fast asleep. If only I could be so lucky.

I closed my eyes and willed the most eventful day of my life to finally end. I heard a soft step at the door and felt my mother’s presence. I faked sleep, not wanting to get into anything with her in the state I was in. She hesitated at the door before entering. I felt her come to the side of the bed, smelled her perfume as her power settled like a warm blanket around us. She softly kissed first Meira and, after a moment’s pause, me. Her lips were soft and warm and her breath sweet with wine.

“I love you,” she whispered. And then, she was gone.

I almost sat up but I didn’t want to wake Meira. I bit back a wave of sadness and squeezed my eyes shut against threatening tears. The little girl Meira had awakened in me wanted to run after my Mommy and have her hold me forever. I struggled, knowing those days were gone and I ended them, not Mom. If she had her choice, I know we would still be very close. The fact I chose to cut myself off from her was something I either had to live with or do something about. I knew my mother would welcome me back into the fold with open arms, no questions asked. Exactly how much was I willing to give up, to compromise? Could I really find a way we could both be happy with the consequences?

I felt a heavy weight land on the end of the bed and a fat, warm cat body made its way up between my sister and I to settle in the small valley between us. I opened my eyes and looked into Sass’s golden ones. He curled up, face next to mine, tail brushing my chin.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said. “I was cold.”

I laughed and kissed him on the head.

“Thanks, Sassafras,” I whispered.

“Anytime,” he winked one amber eye in his cat way. He settled, chin on his paws.

I’m not sure if it was the comfort of two extra bodies or total emotional exhaustion but I had no trouble falling asleep.