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

hesitated by the door.

“Coming?” She asked. I never got to ride in the Mustang, usually relegated to one of the back seats of our minivan. I climbed in beside her, careful to hold my kit bag carefully in my lap.

“It’s only a couple of blocks,” I told her.

“Rather arrive in style,” she winked at me before putting on a pair of huge shades I had never seen before. I was sure they had a price tag on them only a little while ago.

She spun the car out onto the street and drove very fast to the soccer field. She pulled into an empty spot, one of the only ones left, and climbed out, removing the sunglasses, as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them. I understood then how little my mother knew about the outside world. How had she survived for so long? She was a grown woman for goodness sakes. But she was a grown woman destined from birth to lead a powerful coven, schooled privately, unlike me, by other witches, groomed as witches were groomed in her generation, protected by not only the magic but by the large mass of old wealth the Hayle family managed and expanding for centuries.

I knew then what a leap it was for Mom to let me be raised like a normal child, unsheltered from the outside world, exposed to everything she'd been protected from. I instantly gained respect for her. I walked around the car to her to offer what little help I could.

I took the sunglasses from her and slid them on top of her head, into her hair.

“Am I okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, Mom,” I answered. “You are.”

Together, we walked across the parking lot to the soccer field. I left her by the fence to change into my cleats. Maybe I really believed it. Maybe not. I was about to find out.

Mom clutched the fence with both hands, smiling at me. She waved a little.

I started to relax and get into game mode, fear easing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

It wasn’t until I reached the field and glanced around that I noticed how many faces I recognized in the crowd.

My mom brought the family to watch me play soccer. I didn’t know whether to scream and run away or hug her.

I watched as the coven gathered around Mom, chatting and laughing, their combined power leaking out around them like a cloud. Erica and Jared both waved, Jared shooting me a wink and a huge ‘go get ‘em’ smile. The more of them that joined the group, the louder they were. My heart pounded as I watched the normal parents, compelled by instinct, move away until the circle of witches stood isolated.

A sharp word from my coach snapped my attention back to the field.

“Hayle!” Coach Matters growled. “Get in the game!”

I trotted to him and tried to ignore the weight of the family on the other side of the fence.

“Sorry, coach,” I said.

His whole talk on game strategy went out the window as my energy sucked away in waves of nausea and dizziness. I felt it happen and couldn’t do a thing about it. But why? The coach had to snap at me a couple of times to get me to focus, but no matter what he did, I was lost a few minutes later. It was as if my proximity to the group drew me into their circle and triggered everything bad about my connection to magic. Even my demon seemed disoriented and only then did I understand how much she supported me when I played. Not having her strength to push me on had a huge impact on my game. I couldn’t break free of the heavy family influence no matter how hard I tried.

My heart pounded not from the cardio but from pure fear. I couldn’t play! How could I with them watching, leeching, leaking power and shoving me over my comfort edge? I gritted my teeth and struggled to get some control back.

I loved soccer. They would not take it away from me.

The worst part was, they didn’t even know what they were doing.

Right from the first kick, I was a total mess. I battled desperately to take focus, to block them out. But the moment I thought I was in the game, I lost my concentration again. I don’t know how many times Coach Matters yelled at me in that first forty-five minutes, but I think it was the most times my name was spoken cumulatively since I was born.

My skills went out the window with my concentration. I couldn’t kick without ending up on my butt in the grass. I couldn’t pass without getting it to the opposing team. I was clumsy, distracted and very, very angry by the time the referee blew the whistle for the end of the first half.

I collapsed on the bench, realizing as I did I was alone on my end. The rest of my team huddled as far from me as possible, shooting me dirty looks.

Coach Matters approached and crouched in front of me. His face shone with fury.

“Tell me you’re purposely throwing this game,” his voice was a low snarl. “Because if you are, at least that would explain what the hell is happening out there.”

I trembled, hurting and wanting to die.

“I’m sorry, coach,” I whispered. “I can’t seem to get it together.”

“Then stay on the bench,” he snapped. “And stay out of the way.”

He stalked off in a huff to have a huddle with the girls. I sat there for a minute, heart pounding, battling tears and the sharp jab of loss. The family watched me with a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment. Jared, obviously confused about the rules of the game and the fact you need to win to celebrate, gave me a double thumbs up and a grin. Mom tried to support me, but she it was pretty obvious from the pained smile on her face and the murmurs she exchanged with the others that she felt far more worried about what they thought of my crippled abilities.

It affected me more than I expected. I kicked off my cleats, bagged them and fled.

I could hear my mother calling after me, but I didn’t care. I ran across the street toward the park, refusing to even consider going home. I ended up in the empty play area. I threw my bag as far away from me as I could and slumped into one of the swings, unable to believe I lost the last thing that made me happy because of the stupid coven.

I hated them so much in that instant I would have gladly turned them in to whatever authorities I could except of course no one believed in witches and would think I was nuts if I told them. I wanted to scream, to throw things, to hurt whoever I could reach as much as I possibly could so that they would realize what they took from me.

My mom picked right then to turn up. Naturally. She took a seat next to me on another swing.

“Honey,” she said, concern in her voice, hand reaching out to touch me, “what happened?”

I spun on her so quickly she pulled back with actual fear in her eyes. Good. I wanted her to be afraid.

“You people happened,” I hissed at her, all my rage, all my pain in my face, in my power as I released it and pushed it at her so hard she paled. I ignored the battle between disorientation and my demon to fling my fury at her with words. “You and your stupid ideas, your meddling, your need to keep me prisoner in your horrible family.” My voice climbed in volume as I rose from the swing and started yelling at her, hands clenching into fists as I spit my fury without reservation. “How dare you ruin my life! How dare you take away the one thing I love because you think you deserve to be a part of it? You never wanted to be a part of it before! Why did you have to now? Why!”

I struggled to pull myself under control, fought to keep from doing something I would always regret, but it was hard, so hard. My demon writhed with anger of her own, shoving aside my natural aversion to her and the magic inside me. Mom may have seen it in me but she wasn’t about to make it easy for me, either.

“Syd,” Mom said. “We were trying to support you. I thought you said you were a good player. I didn’t mean to embarrass you in front of the family.”

My control vanished in a blaze of demon rage I barely contained within me, a thin veneer my final barrier. The only thing between her and my magic was my absolute refusal to be her.

“I hate the coven,” I snarled at her. “I hate the family,” I leaned it to her so she would see and hear the truth, “and I hate you. I can’t stand you, you have no idea. You ruined everything and I hate you for it.”

It took Mom a moment to pull herself to her feet. She shook, just under control herself. I knew she held her own power back, could feel it firmly pressing against mine, raised in answer to the threat my demon presented.

“You will never speak to me that way again,” her voice was low, almost a whisper. “And you will get yourself under control right now. Right NOW.”

Her eyes flashed. I felt the demon retreat from her but fought against Mom and her desire to control me, her will, her very spirit. It surprised me how easy it was to get to a stalemate where I held her, my demon spitting and snarling, at a standstill. Was my mother holding back? I didn’t think so.

The very thought that I, untrained and unwilling, was already able to block out my powerful mother, shut me down instantly, like water running from a broken glass. My demon hissed spitefully as I stood in front of Mom, shaking with the release, free of both the pressure of my power and the smothering anger I used as a weapon.

“You need to go home,” she said, voice steady but low. “We’ll talk when I get there.”

“We have nothing more to talk about,” I said, but this time I felt empty, used up, my stomach ready to empty itself without my consent. The anger vanished, leaving only a little regret.

She looked up, knowing more than my voice changed. We faced off in that park, neither of us making a move, letting the certainty of what we did to each other there settle between us like a curtain.

Neither of us spoke as I retrieved my kit bag and walked away. Chapter Sixteen

It was almost dark by the time I arrived home. I trudged into the back yard, dragging my bag along behind me. It wasn’t until I reached the ward surrounding the house, though, that I felt the presence of my father.

Just lovely. She had to drag my dad into this.

I went immediately to the basement, do not pass go, do not collect a butt whoopin’. I made it down the stairs with