Omens Bite, page 14
As if they were marionettes being controlled by one brain, the group turned to gawk at her.
Mercy smiled wickedly, lifted her hands, and said, “Boo!” as she flicked her fingers at them. At that same moment a cluster of big, black birds lifted from a nearby tree, croaking angrily like she’d banged a gong and disturbed them.
The marionettes became scared little hens. Hastily they turned their backs to Mercy. Throwing the retreating ravens worried looks, they scuttled the rest of the way across the parking lot.
Mercy’s satisfaction at their obvious fear didn’t last long. An’ ye harm none, do what ye will played through her mind in her mother’s voice. She sighed again and her shoulders slumped. It really didn’t matter that she hadn’t actually hexed the cheerleaders. Scaring them into thinking she did—or even would—wasn’t cool.
It was just that everything felt so wrong. Mercy had never considered herself one of the popular girls, but until recently her classmates had seemed to honestly like her. Even before she dated Kirk, Mercy had felt included; she was laughed with not at. Being with Kirk had just solidified the fact that she was accepted. But her messy and super public breakup with Mr. Football Star had ended all of that. Mercy had been fun! She loved to dance and hang out and party a little. Now she just wanted to stay in bed with her covers over her head.
Mercy fished her phone from her purse and quickly texted Emily. Where are u? I’m on the sidewalk by the west parking lot.
A car’s engine gunned and Mercy just caught a glimpse of Hunter in the convertible that sped past. She felt a jolt of surprise. That was Kylie York’s car. She was a cheerleader who usually hung with the popular crowd. Jax was with them as they drove past her and didn’t even bother to look her way like none of them had one bloody buggering care in the world—like she didn’t even exist.
Mercy felt like her wounded heart might break into irreparable pieces. She couldn’t decide if she should scream after them for Hunter to be my sister again! Or if she should just sit down right there in the middle of the sidewalk and sob. She didn’t do either. Instead she took a couple steps back so that she was hidden behind a big, ugly concrete column, though they’d already left the parking lot.
How can she not miss me—miss us? I don’t understand it. I don’t understand her.
“Mercy! Oh good. I’m glad I ran into you.”
Mercy jumped in surprise and turned to see her biology teacher, Mr. Carmody, coming around the sidewalk from the front of the school.
“Oh, uh, hi, Mr. Carmody.”
“I finished grading the botany test and I am very proud to tell you that you made a perfect score.” Mr. Carmody’s kind face crinkled into familiar laugh lines as he beamed a proud smile at her.
“That’s great.” Of course I made a one hundred. It was a plant test.
Mr. Carmody clasped his hands in front of him as his expression became serious. “Hey, I want you to know I’m here for you if you’d like to talk. You’ve had a tough time recently and I’ve noticed you and your sister, well, you aren’t spending much time together—at least not at school.”
Mercy shuffled her feet. “Not anywhere, really.”
His kind brown eyes looked sad. “Well, if you need to talk, know that I’m here for you, and if you’d rather speak with a counselor I can facilitate that, too. Remember, people grieve in all sorts of ways. And time does ease pain. I promise.”
“OMG, Mag! Sorry I took so long to—” Emily barreled around the corner of the school and almost ran into the biology teacher. “Oops, didn’t see you there, Mr. Carmody.”
“No harm done, Emily. Well, see you girls tomorrow in class. Keep my offer in mind, Mercy.” Mr. Carmody awkwardly patted Mercy’s shoulder before he disappeared into the school.
“Bloody buggering hell, can we get out of here, please?” Mercy began marching to Emily’s car without waiting for a response.
“Hey, what was that all about?” Em scrambled to keep up with her friend.
“Can we go first? I’ll tell you in the car.”
Emily’s brow furrowed, but she nodded, unlocked the car, and turned the ignition of the old Thunderbird as Mercy slid into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door. She slumped dejectedly, clutching her backpack in her arms like it was a security blanket. Em put the car into gear, took a right out of the parking lot, and then glanced at her friend.
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s right would be a quicker answer.”
“Okay, start with Mr. Carmody. Was he being weird?” Em asked.
Mercy shrugged. “Nah, he was trying to be nice. He was telling me that I got a one hundred on the botany test and—”
“One hundred! That’s awesome!”
Mercy shrugged again. “Em, plants are super easy for me, remember? A one hundred on a geometry test would be awesome and miraculous.” Mercy sighed. “Right before he told me about the test, Hunter and her new cheerleader best friend and Jax zoomed out of the parking lot like they were heading for a big party or whatever. I looked so pathetic standing there, even clueless Mr. Carmody felt sorry for me. I just—” She had to pause and blink rapidly to keep tears from leaking from her eyes. “I just want my old life back.”
Emily didn’t say anything for several minutes, but she did reach over and squeeze Mercy’s hand. At the next stop sign Em turned in her seat to face her friend. “I know. I totally get it. Nothing feels normal for me, either. But I’m here, Mag. I’ve got your back.”
Mercy clutched her one remaining friend’s hand. “Spend the night tonight, ’kay? We’ll order pizza and I’ll sneak us some of Abigail’s strawberry wine. We can have a Pride and Prejudice–athon. Hell, Em, we can even get Xena to call the school tomorrow and tell them that we both have a stomach bug. We could sleep till noon and then go to Goode Lake and bask in the sun like the goddesses we are!” As Mercy spoke, her voice became more and more animated, until she was practically bouncing in her seat.
“Mag, I’d love to. Seriously. But my mom isn’t doing so great. It’s not like before.” She hurried on when Mercy frowned. “She quit with the double Xanax and the constant crying, but interring Dad yesterday really hit her hard. I can’t leave her tonight. I’m sorry.”
All the excitement that had built within Mercy at the thought of a girls’ night with Em and cutting school evaporated to leave her deflated and empty. “Okay. Yeah. You gotta be there for your mom.” Mercy let loose Em’s hand and picked at her lip instead as she stared out the passenger’s side window.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
Mercy shook her head. “Nah. I get it. If Abigail was alive and needed me I’d be there for her, too.”
“How about I tell Mom that I’m gonna spend the night at your place tomorrow? Hey, we can even take the train to Chicago Sunday morning and go to that place you love so much for brunch.”
“Native Foods Café,” Mercy said.
“Yeah, that’s it. And then—shoe shopping! What do ya think?”
“Okay, sure.” Mercy turned from the window to attempt a smile. “Sounds good.”
“Cool! I’ll let Mom know. I’m sure it’ll be okay to—” Behind them someone lay on their horn, which caused both girls to jump. “Oh, shit. Sorry!” Emily waved an apology and pulled forward. “Sheesh. Talk about impatient.”
“Right?” Mercy said automatically. Her eyes stared sightlessly out the window as Emily talked about the pop quiz her French teacher had pulled on them that day. Mercy made the appropriate sounds and responses, but all the while felt like she was crumbling into pieces.
It didn’t take long to get to the big Victorian house at the edge of town that had been home to Goode witches for more than two hundred years. Emily stopped in the driveway and waved to Xena, who was sitting in the porch swing swathed in Abigail’s bathrobe as she lapped at something in a teacup.
“Do you think that’s tuna juice?” Emily asked.
“I hope not.” Mercy shuddered. “Hey, thanks for the ride home. I really need to get around to taking my driver’s test so that I can drive myself to school without getting in massive trouble.” She put her hand on the door latch, but Em’s voice stopped her.
“Mag, are you okay?”
Mercy forced her lips to tilt up as she lied. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Really?”
“Don’t worry. I’m just bummed today.” She met Emily’s gaze and saw such worry and sadness there that her self-pity dissolved. “Em, I’m really sorry. I’m being a super crappy friend. Your dad’s funeral was yesterday. I know you’re hurting. I’m here for you, too.”
“I know, Mag. Hey, are you still up for doing the release ritual for my dad?”
Mercy’s smile was a lot less forced. “Of course I am. Whenever you’re ready.”
Emily’s fingers worried the leather ties on her old-school steering wheel cover.
“I asked Hunter to join us.” She hurried on before Mercy could say anything. “You’re my bestie, but Hunter and I have always been close, and I’ve been thinking that if everything was normal between you two she would definitely perform the ritual with you. So, maybe if she does, things might start to get back to normal for my twins.”
Mercy felt like the air had started to solidify and was pressing down on her. Finally, she cleared her throat and answered her best friend honestly. “That sounds logical, but Em, you didn’t see what happened yesterday at your dad’s visitation.” She met Emily’s gaze. “Hunter was mean. To me. In front of kids who were already being shitty to me. She’s changed. It’s like we’re not sisters anymore.”
“Oh, Mag! It won’t be forever. Hunter’s just trying to figure out how to stop hurting.”
“She’s taking it out on me,” said Mercy.
“It’s a cliché, but it’s true—the more we love someone, the more we can hurt them. Remember that, ’kay?”
“’Kay,” Mercy said. “And I can prepare everything for the release ritual for your dad. I’d be honored to.”
Em smiled with relief. “Awesome! How about tomorrow afternoon about one-ish? We can go out to Goode Lake. Remember when Dad used to take all of us out there and we’d rent paddleboats?”
Mercy grinned at the memory. “Yeah, and he’d buy us so much cotton candy from the refreshments stand that we’d get super sick? Good times!”
“Great times!” Emily agreed. “The lake has so many awesome memories I thought that it would be nice to do the ritual out there.”
“That’s a good idea, Em. I’ll gather the ritual things I need and have them ready to swing by and get after school tomorrow.”
“Do I need to bring anything?”
Mercy nodded. “Yes, something small that reminds you of your dad—or belonged to him. You’re going to burn it, though, so be sure it’s not something you want to keep.”
Emily’s forehead furrowed for a moment, then she grinned. “I know! I’ll bring some of his pipe tobacco.”
“Perfect!”
“Emily, kitten, would you like to stay for dinner?” Xena called from the porch.
Em shouted through the open passenger’s door. “Not tonight. I can’t. But thanks, Xena!”
“We’ll be eating soon!” Xena shouted back. “I am quite famished!”
“Uh-oh,” said Mercy as she got out of the car.
Emily laughed softly. “She’s hangry. You better go.”
“See you tomorrow at the lake.” Mercy turned and spoke through the open window. “Hey, sorry I was so selfish earlier.”
“No problem. Love you!”
“Love you, too!”
As Em drove away Mercy’s shoulders slumped again. She hefted her backpack and trudged up the stairs to plop down next to Xena on the porch swing. Thankfully, the cat person was only lapping cream from the porcelain teacup.
“Hello, kitten.”
“Hey there, Xena.”
The swing carried them smoothly back and forth, back and forth. Mercy tilted her head and stared at the ceiling of the porch, which Abigail had painted with delicately shaded triple moons, and thought about nothing but the warm afternoon breeze and the scent of growing crops it carried to her.
“Your spirit feels heavy today, kitten,” Xena said after she’d finished licking the last drop of cream from the teacup.
“Feels?” Mercy asked without taking her gaze from the triple moons.
“Now that I have formally been awarded the gift of being your familiar I can feel things about you—just as I could about my Abigail.”
“Huh,” Mercy said. “That’s weird and kinda cool.”
“It is the calling of a familiar to support her witch,” Xena said simply. “What is it, my Mercy?”
“I want my old life back!” Mercy blurted. With her head still tipped back, tears leaked onto the swing.
Xena turned to her and gently stroked her hair. “I know. But you will adapt and find a new life.”
“I—I don’t think that life will include Hunter,” Mercy said brokenly.
“I hope it does, kitten, but if not you have the strength of generations of Goode witches in your blood. You will survive.”
“What if surviving isn’t good enough? I’m just so, so sad, Xena.”
Xena continued to stroke her hair. “There is one good thing about your sadness.”
Mercy dug into her purse for the ball of wadded tissues always there and wiped almost viciously at her nose and eyes before she sat up and looked at Xena. “What could possibly be good about sadness?”
“Your ability to feel sadness proves that your sister did not take grief from you. Her spell worked just as she intended—it allowed you to move forward and not be paralyzed by your emotions. Remember that, my Mercy, and continue to move forward as we hope that, someday, our Hunter joins us.”
Mercy felt something loosen inside of her as Xena held open her arms. With a sigh she was engulfed in Abigail’s bathrobe and her familiar’s embrace. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you, Xena.”
“Hush, kitten. You shall never be without me.” At the same moment thunder boomed deafeningly and the sky opened to dump cool spring rain on Goodeville.
With her head still on Xena’s shoulder, Mercy said, “I really hope that isn’t one of Freya’s omens.”
“Well, kitten, I believe you said it best yesterday—omens bite.”
Fifteen
“Bloody buggering sodding hell!” The words exploded from Mercy as she dropped the needle that had just pricked her finger, pushed the pair of jeans she’d been attempting to sew lace panels into off her lap, and hurried into the kitchen to hold her bleeding finger under cold water.
Xena, who had been eating cannabis truffles and bingeing Love Island, UK on the couch beside Mercy followed her into the kitchen and perched on the edge of the counter. She didn’t say anything, but watched as Mercy dried her finger and wrapped another Band-Aid around it.
“What?” Mercy asked after she threw away the bandage wrappers.
“Well, kitten, if you keep sewing whilst you’re this emotional you are going to run out of bandages.” She fluttered her fingers at Mercy’s three swathed digits. “Or fingers. Also, choosing to work with the antique lace Hunter gave you for your birthday is really just adding to your upset.”
Mercy frowned at her wounded fingers. “You’re probably right about that.”
“Of course I am right. Why do you not put aside the sharp objects, make some lovely cocoa, and watch the TV with me? Love Island is quite fascinating.”
“It’s brainless reality show garbage, Xena.”
“Kitten, that is exactly the point.” Xena sighed. “But it does not seem to work for you, so I recommend that you take a ride.”
“A ride?”
“Yes, in Abigail’s car. Perhaps you might like to drive to the park and take a brisk walk to get rid of your restlessness. And then on the way home you could be a dear and stop by that lovely little sandwich shop with the odd name and get me a tuna sandwich.”
“You mean Goodeville Sammiches?”
“Yes, that is the odd name. Tell them they may hold the bread. And the lettuce.”
“So, basically, you just want tuna?”
Xena nodded enthusiastically, which made her thick, untamed hair bounce around her shoulders. “Yes, but I also like the things they mix into it.”
“Mayo, onions, and celery?”
“Oh, no. Just the mayo. I lick around the onions and celery. Vegetables are entirely too crunchy for something I didn’t have to kill to eat.” The cat person shuddered delicately.
Mercy ran a hand through her hair. “Okay, but I’m still confused. You want me to drive to the park and then go to the sandwich shop?”
“Kitten, you are emotional and lonely because you miss your sister. Our Emily must be with her mother, so she cannot be here, and even though I am an excellent familiar my company alone is not what you need tonight. But I believe the Egyptian boy would brighten your mood, would he not?” Xena raised her brows and looked very pleased with herself.
“Khenti?” Mercy’s cheeks heated. “He’s probably busy.”
“Did Khenti not tell you that he was often lonely?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Then perhaps you will do him a favor by calling on him tonight.” Xena shrugged. “And if he is busy then you could still walk briskly around the park. Fresh air is good to clear the mind—and work up an appetite. You hardly ate anything today.”
Mercy blew out a long breath. “I suppose that’s not a bad idea. I did tell Khenti that I’d let him know how my magic test went. I could stop by real quick and check in with him.”
“It would be doing him a kindness,” Xena said with only a hint of slyness glinting in her yellow eyes.
Mercy nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll go for a drive to the park and then stop by Goodeville Sammiches on the way home. Good idea, Xena!” She grabbed the keys from the kitchen table and hefted her purse over her shoulder, but Xena’s voice halted her before she started for the door.
“Kitten, you’ll need a black taper candle and ritual matches.”
“Huh?”
“Or you could cast another rain spell, but that would make for a very soggy visit, especially as it already rained this afternoon—and it wouldn’t ensure your privacy. Some people will still exercise in the rain—though it is a ridiculous thing to do. Why would anyone—”
