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

of words but I ignored her. I was too focused on my mom.

She had ideas for that, too.

“Miriam Hayle,” Batsheva said, “I hereby banish you from the coven and rename it. Strength and light to the Moromond Coven.”

“Strength and light,” came the heavy murmur.

“We shall repair our bonds, heal our wounds, rebuild stronger than ever.”

Sounded like empty words to me, but I wasn’t with the program any more. By banishing my mother, she effectively cut Meira, Gram and I off too.

The circle collapsed. We were no longer a part of it anyway. I couldn’t stand being there any longer. I wanted to get my mother out. Everyone made a big deal out of not watching us as I guided Mom out of the pentagram, away from the family she used to lead, past people I knew my whole life who now couldn’t even meet my eyes. As we stepped past the last burnt out candle. I heard Batsheva start to give orders and draw her witches to her. I hated them all so much, blamed them for their betrayal.

I hoped the traitor took them after all.

I felt a tiny hand grab my sweater hem and I knew Meira was with us. But it wasn’t until I had us at the Mustang that I heard my grandmother start to cackle and knew Gram followed too.

“Great party,” she rolled her eyes, smacking her lips with drool running over her chin.

“Yeah,” I said. “Great. Meira,” I turned to my quietly weeping sister. “Can you help Gram get in the back?”

Meira left me to go to Gram. I steered Mom to the passenger seat. It was a testament to the state she was in she didn’t argue about me driving her car. I worried, not to scratch it up or anything, but because I only started to learn to drive and wasn’t sure if I could get us all home in one piece. My luck, we’d get pulled over. But there was no way I was letting any of them near my mother and she couldn’t drive, so I was it.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and fixed the rear view with shaking hands. Gram leaned forward, staring intently at me through the mirror, her hands grasping me from where she sat behind me.

“Darkness is here,” she said.

“Gram…” I tried to pull free but she wouldn’t look away.

“More to come,” she whispered. “More to go. Soon, light loses…”

She let me go, leaning back in her seat, rocking herself. I thought she went back to wherever it was she did in her crazy world. Meira still cried. I almost missed the words Gram whispered under her humming. I focused on her lips in the mirror. I made her out and my blood ran cold.

“Light loses,” she said over and over, “darkness wins.”

I turned on the radio so I wouldn’t have to hear. Chapter Thirty Two

I’m pretty sure I broke almost every driving rule and traffic law out there on that ride home. But luck was with us. The road was quiet. We avoided the police and the Mustang still had an intact transmission by the time I pulled into the driveway and turned off the ignition.

Not that I planned to kiss the pavement or anything, but I was happy to be home.

Mom stayed silent on the drive. Aside from the soft crying that eased as Meira hiccupped her way to exhaustion and the hum of the radio, the car was quiet. Even Gram stopped her endless chanting, something I was grateful for.

I managed to get my mother out of the car and into the house. It was so still, it seemed like even the house knew we didn’t belong there anymore.

I maneuvered Mom into a chair and turned to Meira and Gram.

“Meira,” I said softly, “stay with Mom, okay?”

She climbed up into Mom’s lap as I led Gram through the house to her room. She followed, more docile than I had ever seen her. I left her there, sitting on her bed, still rocking and rocking.

I went back to the kitchen.

“Mom,” I said, “we have to talk.”

She shook her head, arms clasping Meira tightly to her.

“Mom,” I tried again. “Please, talk to me.”

She stood, dumping Meira on the floor, eyes wild but empty of power.

“Talk?” She said, her voice harsh. “Talk about what, Syd? It’s gone, the power’s gone! You don’t care, you never wanted it, how can you understand? You don’t understand…” she drifted off. “You’ll never understand.”

But I did. I totally got it. She gave up the only life she ever knew, the very thing she was born to do, and now she was completely empty. I could feel it in her, like a huge, gaping wound. I would have done anything to help her heal.

Instead, I let her leave the kitchen, heard her drag herself up the stairs. I shut my eyes at the sound of her closing bedroom door. I stood there, trying to make sense of what happened. I failed miserably. I think I would have curled up on myself like Mom did if it hadn’t been for Meira.

Her tiny hand slipped into mine and the spell, the last gift my mother gave me, woke me up. I knew above everything else, I had to keep my sister safe.

“Syd,” she said, tears starting again. “What’s going to happen to us?”

I lifted her up and carried her into the dark living room. I sat on the wide sofa with her in my arms and held her, stroking her hair.

“It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll take care of you, Meems. I’ll take care of everything.”

“What about Mom?” She snuffled and wiped at her face with her sleeve.

“She’ll be okay too,” I lied. “She just needs some time to adjust.”

“I can’t feel her very well anymore,” Meira whispered.

I drew a deep breath. “I know,” I said.

“Does that mean she’s not a witch anymore?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” I told her. “But she’s still our mother.”

“Yeah,” she said. “She is.”

We sat in the dark for quite a while, clinging to each other, trying to forget what we had been through.

It wasn’t long before Meira fell asleep. I didn’t have the energy to carry her upstairs. I laid her on the sofa and spread a blanket over her, brushing her hair back as a soft curl fell on her cheek. I left her there, decision made before I knew I made it.

I went to the basement. I stood in the pentagram of the silent, dead house and felt around. My mother’s magic was gone, fading like old perfume in the air of that quiet place. It was the first time I fully grasped how much of my mother went into everywhere we stayed. No matter where we went, no matter how many times we moved, the house we lived in always felt like home. As I stood there in the dark, damp basement smelling of mold and age, for the first time I sensed nothing, no connection, no warmth, only that I didn’t belong there and never would again.

I stood there and just felt it. After a moment I pushed it aside. Time to do something about it, if I could. I went to my father’s statue and looked up at him, his stone likeness as cold as the house. I reached out and touched him, running my fingers over the rough grain of the granite that made him, feeling nothing. I took a deep breath to calm myself and tried something I never thought I would.

I summoned my demon and called Haralthazar.

As my demon came to me, a crippling wave of nausea tried to hold me back. I shoved it aside, refusing to let it stop me as I reached and reached, finding the edge of the doorway that was his statue, feeling for him, calling him as I had seen my mother do so many times before. She made it seem easy, but of course she had a magic bond with him to expedite matters. But, so did I. The demon within me should have been all the connection I needed.

The gate cracked open but before it could widen I met with a barrier. It was like struggling against a curtain, a thick, textured veil of something wet and heavy that never quite seemed to part. It flexed and flowed around my power. I pushed harder and the curtain gave but stretched and didn’t tear. I’m not sure whose idea it was to cut it, but I think it was my demon. She sliced through the veil and for a brief and tantalizing moment the door was open and I brushed the edges of my father. We connected.

He wasn’t in Demonicon. And he wasn’t here, either. He floated in some sort of limbo between the planes, trapped and unable to speak to me. But he made it very clear we were in real trouble. I hoped he would be able to come to our rescue, somehow, to help Mom, restore her maybe, and help me find Uncle Frank and Sass. But I understood as we touched in that moment of stretched forever that Dad was in magical chains, a prisoner to the traitor. Worse yet, his strength was being siphoned out of him to feed something larger, something horrible. Despite our brief contact, I couldn’t help him any more than he could help me.

I was thrown from his touch by that great power, the same power I felt before, tinted green and with the flavor of the forest. My demon snarled as we were hurled back to my plane and sent crashing into my body. I collapsed to the floor of the basement, beaten down for the second time that night. This time I stayed there for a while, and cried.

I let the tears leak freely from my eyes and down my face into my hair, not even bothering to try to wipe them away. Why should I? There was no use in anything anymore, no future, no help coming, no glimmer that something would happen to make it all better. I was lost, my parents were lost. There was absolutely no hope left.

The Hayle family was no more and there was nothing I could do about it.

I would have lay there forever, I think, if it weren’t for the sound of the kitchen door opening, the footsteps on the floor upstairs. I dragged myself to my feet and went up, not wanting to see anyone, but not really having a choice.

I took the last step. I found the Moromonds there as the basement door swung shut behind me. Batsheva and Dominic stood in the kitchen. They seemed very surprised to see me. Batsheva schooled her expression pretty quickly, but I could tell she didn’t expect to get caught in our house. Not sure where else she thought we’d go.

Dominic on the other hand, gave me the old once over, his face pinched, piggy eyes furious.

“Sydlynn,” Batsheva said smoothly, smiling. “Are you all right, dear?”

What a stupid question. I felt like laughing but didn’t have the energy.

“What do you want?” I wasn’t in the mood to be gracious, even to the new leader of the coven.

Especially to the new leader of the coven. Yeah, that pissed her off.

“We came to