Attempting nonchalance, I ask, “Can I get a copy?”
Nolan shrugs good-naturedly. “Sure. I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, you guys coming?” Donovan bellows from down the hall, when he notices we’re missing.
Nolan flashes a conspiratorial wink, then runs ahead of me-- my only warning that apparently we’re racing to catch up.
“No fair!” I cry, breathless when I reach them, while the three of them laugh.
We find Kaleb exactly as Donovan expected, sitting at a table on the veranda, empty plate and cup beside him, and he’s reading a thick tome in a language I don’t recognize, though I’m pretty sure it isn’t Latin.How many languages does he know?
We all put together our own sandwiches filled with artisan meats, cheeses, and organic vegetables.Even for a simple meal, there’s a gourmet flair to it,I think to myself, shaking my head.
All of us eventually sit alongside Kaleb, who looks up long enough to acknowledge us, before going back to his book. The air is cold, but feels nice on my flushed skin.
Between bites, Donovan advises me to start doing quick runs in the morning or evening to build up endurance-- a few miles should be good-- which I laugh at until I realize he’s serious. With a cheeky smile, Felix gallantly offers to run with me.
Despite being sweaty and worn out, I feel better-- stronger-- and I know that has a lot to do with what I’ve learned today. Not only the physical moves to defend myself, but the security that these guys are real friends who will stand by me.
A sadness creeps over me thinking of who’s missing from our merry band and why. I know Nolan warned me to stay out of it, but thinking of Connor reminds me of all the times I was trapped in the basement too damaged to hope for help. I’m supposed to be a witch that can do the impossible, and when my magic is free, I’m going to find a way to save him. I’ll be the hope he’s given up on.
Chapter 3
Callie
After lunch, Donovan and Kaleb drop me off at my house before heading home. Felix decided to stay and hang out at Nolan’s, letting me know that he’ll be over later tonight. Honestly, I think my aunt intimidates him a bit now that she knows he’s haunting us, though why, I have no idea.
“That arse-licking slag can just bloody well sod off,” is the first thing I hear when entering through the front door. “Who the hell does she think she is?”
“Aunt Mildred, are you okay?” I yell, surprised to hear the brash insults coming from my normally well-collected aunt.
I turn to hang my red sweater in the coat closet, then I remember how much I’ve sweated in it, and decide it definitely needs a wash before school tomorrow.
“Then go to the council,” Mildred sneers in a sing-songy voice, sounding like she’s probably in her office. “You’d think witches that live outside of the council would have some backbone, but no-- scared of her own bloody shadow! Well, if she’s the best they have, then I don’t need her anyway. Couldn’t magic her way out of a paper cup!”
Ouch! I don’t think her meeting with the coven went well.
There’s sounds of clanging pans and running water coming from the kitchen, and I spin around, worried who else might be in the house. My brain short circuits and my sweater falls from my fingertips, because it’s not someone in the kitchen-- it’s somethings.
FuckingFantasiais being reenacted in the damn kitchen. The dirty pans from this morning float just above the sink with a sponge scrubbing vigorously at some of the stuck on food, while the plates rinse themselves then line up in the drying rack. There’s a broom and dustpan sweeping away, followed by a mop and soap bucket. Rags wipe down the granite counters and float over to the trash can to shake out any food particles they’ve collected.
Is it ‘Take the blinders off of Callie’ day?
I know magic is real. Hell, I made it rain, created gale force winds, blew-up a tree, and created a massive bonfire, just because I was emotional, but this-- this is the first time I’ve seenrealmagic. Like straight out ofHarry Pottermagic.
In a dazed stupor, I head toward the angry mutterings from down the hall, fortunately dodging the feather duster flying toward my head on its way to the television past me. I notice the broken lamp is put back together, though it now shows seams where it was cracked. Felix somehow went full poltergeist on it last night, or so they told me-- another mystery that no one can seem to figure out, since it should be impossible.
That phrase has been thrown around a lot lately.
When I finally make it to Mildred’s office, I’m stunned to find my unflappable aunt vigorously flipping through one of the large tomes stacked around the room. Her hair is mussed with multiple pencils sticking out of it, her cream blouse is wrinkled, and there’s a hole in her stocking. She looks like the bizarro version of herself.
“Aunt Mildred?” I murmur in disbelief, hovering in the doorway.
Her head snaps up, and there’s a cacophony of crashing sounds all throughout the house.
I wince. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
