Flesh and Blood Read online

  “Prom.” I found myself smiling, happy I’d finally made my decision. Really happy. “I’d love to go with you.”

  He blushed, the sweetest expression. I could just kiss him.

  Hug. I could just hug him.

  Damn it, Syd.

  “You finally decided.” Liam sounded a little guilty. “Are you sure? Quaid could still come back in time.”

  I shook my head, heard and felt Galleytrot’s sigh through our contact. “I’m absolutely sure,” I said. “Thanks for being so patient. And for asking.”

  “Just as friends, I promise.” He grinned over it though, beamed really. “Awesome.” Liam laughed. “I don’t know why I even care, you know? We’ve both spent years running from school to school, never really fitting in.”

  “That’s it, isn’t it?” I sat up, elbows on the desk as Galleytrot lay down on the floor next to me, resting my chin in my hands. “That chance at a heartbeat of normal?”

  Liam smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “I guess it is.”

  Over the last nine months, we’d talked about my whole normal issues, my need to be ordinary. In fact, I’d told him literally everything, even stuff I’d never told anyone else. And Liam returned the favor. We led such parallel lives, only he had it the other way around.

  All his life, he just wanted to be special.

  Maybe if I hadn’t had a crazy witch’s power trying to work its way out of me, I’d have felt the same way.

  My smile vanished as I felt my demon perk up. And not in a good way. The touch of magic was subtle, most of it blocked by the power of the Gate. Which was exactly what caught her attention. In order to reach through the wards, something really huge had to be going on.

  “I have to go.” I was on my feet, moving for the door before Liam’s concern could register.

  “Syd.” Galleytrot was right beside me as I ran to the exit, panic growing. “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.” The exit slid aside, letting me out. The moment I crossed over to the library basement, my demon howled, my stomach clenching so tight I could barely breathe.

  Demon magic all right. The most powerful and crushing I’d ever felt. Coming from home.

  I scrambled for my keys, Galleytrot leaping into the back seat of Minnie, using his power to slam the door shut just as I hit the gas. It was a short drive, but I swear it was the longest ride of my entire life.

  Pain knifed through me as I threw the car into park. I clutched at my stomach, still behind the wheel, my head flying forward to press into the horn. The sound startled me, enough I was able to use my witch magic combined with the now willing Shaylee’s earth power to block off some of the pressure. Enough I managed to stagger out of the car and to the kitchen door.

  The feeling was worse, if that was possible, on the other side of the wards. Amber fire colored my vision as I cried out in agony. I spotted Sassafras, my demon silver Persian, scuttling down the basement stairs and knew then whatever caused my pain came from there.

  Every step jarred the wrenching hurt inside me. I almost made it to the basement door when Mom appeared beside me, carrying my little sister Meira. She looked terrified as I shuddered and sagged against her, Galleytrot holding me up.

  “Mom,” I whispered, jagged, raw. “Where’s Dad?”

  Meira moaned, near unconsciousness. Mom shook so hard I worried she might drop her. She didn’t answer me, instead turning and running down the basement stairs. I followed, using the black dog for locomotion as he practically carried me down the long, narrow flight.

  I staggered to my knees at the bottom, feeling the arc of demon power slice through me the moment my feet touched the concrete floor. I didn’t even have the strength to scream, the sound of my demon’s pain instead echoing inside my head. My eyes flickered around the basement, taking in the sight of Dad, surrounded by amber wards, his eyes glowing with demon fire, the power pumping out of him, feeding the swirling magic surrounding him.

  Fed by the blood flowing from his right hand.

  I could barely comprehend it, or the silver blade held in his left hand, the edge shining crimson. Not while blue family magic lashed at him repeatedly, over and over, the pain lurching through me at every strike. Our coven’s power attacked Dad, protecting us from the negative magic he performed, while he stood there, locked in the embrace of what he’d done.

  I reached out without thinking, trying to get to him, as a silver flash of fur raced around the coiling blue magic, puncturing the amber power and reaching Dad’s side just as the strength of our family energy gathered in force and slammed down over the bubble of demon magic.

  The force of impact and following shockwave lifted me from my knees, threw me back into the staircase, my body cushioned from the impact by the black dog. Mom and Meira flew like rag dolls, though a flash of Mom’s power protected them from serious damage. I gasped for breath as the near sonic boom passed over and through me, lungs collapsed of air from the pressure. Choking, near to throwing up everything I’d ever eaten in my entire life, I sagged forward and stared into the smoke-filled darkness.

  Glass softly tinkled to the ground, the single bulb over the pentagram shattered, the shards previously suspended by power now free to fall to the concrete. My demon snarled inside me, shuddering as she struggled to recover. But it was Shaylee who offered me vision, softly showing me a sight I wished I could then erase.

  Dad lay crumpled on the floor, looking pale as death. If it hadn’t been for the slow, shallow rise and fall of his chest I would have sworn he’d left us forever. I coughed on some drifting smoke still remaining, falling forward to crawl toward him, gaze flinching from the still-wet redness of his right palm.

  I’d almost reached him when I realized he wasn’t alone. Someone else stirred in the pentagram. I hacked briefly on another whiff of smoke, lungs aching, chest burning from the taste, the taint of it making my terror rise as I accepted why it felt so foul, like death, as I focused back on Dad.

  Blood magic. Now I was close to Dad, I could practically feel the pool spreading around his flesh. No. Way. My brain would not process though my heart died a little at the sight.

  Again that flicker of motion caught my eye, distracted me. A stranger sat up suddenly, a guy about my age, amber gaze glowing, black hair shaggy around his temples.

  “Syd,” he whispered, those amber eyes huge and staring as he met my gaze before looking down at his hands, those fingers rising to touch his face, the demon fire fading to deepest brown.

  Everything froze—time, my pulse, emotions, life. When it all started up again, I could only gape and gasp one word.

  “Sassafras?”

  ***

  Chapter Three

  Mom made a move before I was able, rushing to Dad’s side while I stayed put and stared at the guy who now climbed to his feet, still in awe of his own body.

  And with good reason. If he really was Sassafras, or the mortal human version of the demon cat I’d known my whole life, he’d spent the last 150 years or so in the body of a silver Persian. Being back in a two-legged body would be quite a shock.

  For all of us.

  The skin around his eyes tightened as he slowly approached me, seeming to stumble over his own feet. The color settled to deep brown, almost black. “Syd,” he said in my cat’s voice, “are you okay?”

  I couldn’t face it, couldn’t deal. Maybe I should have been happy for him. Wasn’t this what Sass had wanted forever? But a terrible fear rose inside me, an understanding that for him to be the way he was now meant the possibility of some horrible consequences for my father.

  If there could be more horrible consequences than the ones he faced for using blood magic.

  Galleytrot limped to my side, tongue swiping over my cheek as I turned from the young man with Sassy’s soul inside him and to my parents. Mom was just pulling away from Dad, all trace of blood and his injury gone, the knife nowhere to be seen. I gaped at her, guilt and shock keeping me in thrall as her crying blue eyes met mine.
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  “Swear,” she said, voice low, throaty, as if she had to force the words past her weeping, “swear you won’t tell anyone what’s happened here.”

  “Mom.” I choked that out myself. “What did you do?”

  She shook her head, terror at war with anger. “Swear to me, Syd.”

  Meira had crawled to Mom’s side, crying openly. “I swear, Mom,” she said.

  I couldn’t, just couldn’t. The part of me that understood what this meant for our family fought tooth and nail with my honesty and honor. She just covered up the fact Dad used blood magic. In our house. At our coven site. The worst crime, the most vile, hated, condemned. And yet… revealing she’d chosen to protect Dad likely meant both of their deaths.

  I had no time to answer the demand in her eyes, one of her hands latching onto my wrist as the kitchen door above us slammed open and Erica’s desperate contact made it through the house wards. Mom must have blocked her off the moment she understood what Dad had done.

  Syd. Her touch was a thin thread so fragile I knew her thoughts remained only between us. Please.

  Erica pounded down the stairs, long blonde hair in disarray, a group of witches arriving behind her. Her panic was clear in her face, in her magic, as she reached for us both.

  “What happened?” She looked around, frantic, as though the reason for the disturbance in the family power was about to leap out and attack her. “We all felt it, Miriam. Is everything okay?”

  Mom looked away from me, her voice returning to coven leader normal. Which meant she was lying or covering something up. I’d learned to understand that particular tone over the years.

  “Everything is under control,” she said smoothly while Erica’s expression flickered. She knew Mom as well as I did. “Thank you for coming, but I’m taking care of it.”

  Dull, heavy footfalls thudded down the wooden steps. I forced myself not to look, knowing who owned those bulky, utilitarian shoes. Even before she spoke, I felt Celeste Oberman’s suspicion as her magic snaked out, sniffing around.

  Crap. Crap. Crap. There was no way she’d miss the feeling of blood magic. No. Way.

  We were totally screwed.

  “Who is he?” Erica was staring at the guy in the pentagram, they all were, the sight of him enough even to distract Celeste. I caught her out of the corner of my eye, moving around us, her long brown braid swinging so close to me I could see the threads of gray running through it.

  “It’s me, Erica,” the boy said. I couldn’t bring myself to call him by his name, not yet.

  She had no trouble. “Sassafras?” Her blue eyes stared, they all stared, and I was glad.

  It meant a few more seconds of safety, a handful of heartbeats remaining before the coven unearthed the truth and my father was sentenced to death.

  “All we know,” Mom said, “is one of Harry’s attempts to return home has failed. Clearly the resulting backlash has affected Sassafras.” Her eyes met mine. “I haven’t had time to uncover what’s happened.”

  My guilt was a living thing, wrapping around my heart, stabbing me over and over, only growing worse as I held it in. But I did. And the longer I did, the more committed I was to keeping it inside, to enduring the endless remorse if only to save Dad’s life.

  A small price to pay, my own eternal suffering.

  My power reached for Mom’s, linked with her. It was then, in that moment when I opened up to her, I understood she did more than heal him of his telltale injury. She’d done something, channeled the family magic in a way I could no longer feel the taint of negative magic anywhere in the basement.

  Or the rest of the house for that matter. Maybe Mom hadn’t done it. The family magic itself would have ejected any trace of blood energy, so it’s possible she wasn’t guilty. And until I talked to her, it was also possible she wasn’t covering it up, that said family magic also healed him.

  Possible.

  Dad groaned softly and we all focused on him. I could feel the coven hovering over my shoulder, lining the staircase, a few stepping down with ginger caution to the concrete floor as though fearful whatever he’d done wasn’t over.

  But it was, long over. As he opened his eyes, I felt the change in him, heard Mom cry out in soft despair, reached for his hand and held it, without the familiar touch of his magic to link us together.

  But his magic was here, I could feel it. “Dad,” I whispered.

  His blue eyes, now ordinary, handsome face just a human face, turned toward me.

  “Syd,” he whispered. I reached for him, for his power, felt nothing, not even a latent hint deep inside. I knew Mom was doing the same, felt it in her weeping.

  I sat back, clutching both hands to my throat, turning away from him and toward the guy who stared at me like he’d never seen any of us before.

  The power. Dad’s magic. It was here, of course it was.

  In Sassafras.

  ***

  Chapter Four

  I think Mom guessed the same thing at the same time I did. She gasped, one hand reaching toward the young man. He actually backed up a step, gaze dropping to the floor, a twisted and uncomfortable look on his face. Sassafras understood it the moment we did.

  “It’s not my fault.” So odd to hear that voice out of a human mouth. His whole body tensed, sneakered feet shuffling on the floor. My brain flickered to a million questions, one of them asking where he’d found clothes. I didn’t recognize the dark striped shirt he wore, the deep denim jeans. “I tried to help, I swear it.”

  “He did,” Dad whispered. Our attention swung back to him as he smiled at Mom, a soft and loving expression. She cried out, a small sound, hands stroking his face. He looked so ordinary, so normal, I realized how much his power had maintained his demon appearance, even as reduced as he had been. My Dad now looked like any other dad—still handsome, still tall and broad, but ordinary.

  That fact struck me like a blow as he went on.

  “This wasn’t Sassy’s doing,” Dad said. “It was mine.” He struggled to sit up, Mom supporting him. He didn’t look away from her, acted like they were the only two in the basement and not surrounded by frightened witches. “He would never have allowed it, if he knew. I know you wouldn’t have either, Miriam, which is why I didn’t tell you I was going to try blood magic.”

  And just like that Mom’s attempt to keep the secret shattered into a million pieces, slicing through the gathered coven members like tiny knives of hurt.

  “You did WHAT?” Erica began to shake, as if unable to control the tremors taking over her body. She sank with a thump to the floor, all of the strength seeming to run out of her as if she’d been the one who supplied the blood for the attempt, staring at him while someone in the group moaned in horror.

  Dad cupped Mom’s face in his hands, still lost in only her by all appearances. “I love you,” he said so intimately I felt my cheeks heat, almost embarrassed by the intensity of his emotions, “but I couldn’t live with myself anymore, Miriam. I had to try. And I failed, more than failed.” He looked down at himself, a grim and twisted smile making him look like he was in terrible pain. “I’m nothing.”

  As much as I wished I could turn back time, make this never happen, I was grateful to Dad for owning up to what he’d done. Mom clung to him for a moment, the two of them locked in a desperate embrace while the coven breathed a collective sigh of regret.

  “There is only one course of action here,” Celeste said. Of course she spoke up first, why wasn’t I surprised? Not by her coarse intervention nor by the hint of satisfaction in the heavy demand of her voice. “He has shattered our most sacred pact, broken our most valued law. In calling on negative magic, he has doomed himself, Miriam. He must be put to death. Immediately.”

  I felt the coven’s need to protest almost as one, joined with them, but knew in my heart we had no choice. We had to obey the law. The world wavered before my eyes as what felt like endless tears welled and ran, welled and ran, my soul dying at the thought of losing my father.
Yes, he’d been a jerk lately. But he was my dad and none of this was his fault either. He’d done what he could, risked his own life, his immortal power, to save the people he loved.

  And now he was going to die because he gave up everything to save us.

  Yeah. That was fair.

  Dad gently pushed Mom away and met Erica’s eyes. “I accept my punishment,” he said quietly, as if to soften the blow. “I acted with knowledge and of my own volition. Though I stress no one in my family knew what I planned and none of them are responsible.”

  I wasn’t sure Celeste would let that go. This was her chance, after all, to get rid of all of us in one fell swoop. But she didn’t say a word, clearly satisfied with killing my mother slowly through the ritual death of my dad. She stood there over my parents as if she owned them, fighting the nasty smile I knew lived in her heart, man hands tugging over and over on the thick braid hanging from her ugly head.

  Before Erica could accept, however, Mom spoke up. “It’s basic coven law,” she said. “But only if the accused is a witch.” She met Dad’s eyes as he frowned a little. “Harry isn’t.”

  Celeste’s wide mouth opened, her own scowl forming, but Erica raised her hand. “Explain, please, coven leader.” Excellent wording. I wanted to hug her, no matter the difficulties we had in the past. Erica had Mom’s back just like always and I was grateful.

  And suddenly hopeful. Of course Mom would have a plan.

  “Haralthazar isn’t a witch,” Mom said. “He is a demon lord.” She looked away from him, as if not wanting him to hear what she had to say next, not wanting to see his reaction to her words. “He was never one of us, and now that he his mortal, he never will be.” She opened herself to us, let us feel the truth of what I already knew—Dad was normal, powerless, nothing. The coven sighed as a collective, latching onto the lifeline Mom offered them.

  It was a relief they were as hesitant as we were to end Dad’s life, even over something as serious as blood magic.