Chapter 167: Rude Waking
There's something nasty about being woken abruptly twice in one sleep cycle. Not like I was given much of a choice the second time. Hard to ignore my entire house shaking violently while a wave pulse breaking the speed of sound forced its way upward, lifting my bed an inch or two from the ground before dropping it back to the floor along with everything else I owned.
Galleytrot yelped in surprise and pain, pawing at his ears as the thunderous boom of the shockwave echoed back. I shook my head, rotating my jaw to try and clear away the resounding thrum of it still bouncing around inside my skull.
I reached for Sassafras, but his silver body was absent. Panic took over as the shock of the event passed. I gasped for air, listening to the tinkle and thuds of the contents of the house fall back into place. The faint scent of smoke shattered the freeze holding me in one spot.
I threw myself out of bed yet again, hurtling down the stairs, feet slipping from one to the next until they were hot from carpet friction. Galleytrot leapt from the top, bounding over the railing to land in the hallway below. He waited for me there, eyes everywhere, taking his intention to protect me pretty seriously.
But we were inside my house! There was really nowhere safer than that. I'd said it to Sassafras the night before and meant it.
Smoke oozed out from the gaping basement door. I rushed to it, pounding down the stairs into chaos.
At least I wasn't alone. Mom and Gram swayed side-by-side, having arrived just before me, both in their dressing gowns, Mom with coffee spilled down the front of hers. They'd had their morning java interrupted, but by what? I scanned the still smoky basement, hair almost standing on end from the residual power humming in the air, before spotting Dad lying sprawled in the middle of the family pentagram.
Mom saw him the instant I did and let out a low cry of distress. I let her run to him first, holding back despite wanting to rush to him and make sure he was okay. Instead of my own feelings, I did the responsible witch thing and paused to feel around the house. My power encountered Gram's, welcomed it almost like an old friend. Fair enough, since the core of her magic lived inside me for so long.
Her faded blue eyes met mine, white hair wisping around her face like down. "Morning, Syd."
Even though she wasn't nuts anymore, Gram was still odd. "Hey, Gram."
"I made you oatmeal." She turned her gaze back to Mom and Dad even as her magic twined around mine. "Hope you're hungry." Together, our power explored the house, repairing some physical damage along the way. I helped her seal a crack in the foundation, my earth magic sliding between the two sections and making them whole. I followed her up into the second floor, water magic healing a handful of two by fours supporting the roof. All the while, Gram kept up her commentary. "There's no orange juice so I conjured some." Our magic released at last, the house secure. I opened to my power as it returned to me in a rush, finally loving how it felt.
Gram met my eyes again with a grin. "Breakfast of champions," she said. And winked.
I winked back. Couldn't help myself, really.
Dad groaned, snapping my attention from the kooky old lady to him. Mom supported him as he struggled to sit up. My heart wrenched at the sight, like watching a train wreck you wish you could avoid all together but just can't resist. Once a Demon Lord of the Seventh Plane, he was mortal now, his effigy shattered by the Chosen of the Light. And even though his reduction didn't make me love him less, I knew it hurt him he was trapped here with us with no way home.
At least, not that we'd been able to find. Dad spent so much time locked away in the basement I barely saw as much of him now that he lived with us full time as I did when he was on Demonicon.
Mom looked up at me, desperation in her face. But not for Dad. "Syd," she said, words tripping over themselves, "hurry. The neighbors."
Oh crap. I'd forgotten. This could be bad. The rule was, if normals witnessed an act of magic we had to move. Not just us, the entire coven, lock, stock and pentagram candles. Usually it wasn't a problem, as much as it sucked. But with the burial of the Wild Hunt in our back yard, moving was no longer an option.
Couldn't just leave them for the next owners to find.
Besides, I had friends here. Well, okay, I was working on that again. The point was, I didn't want to move.
I raced upstairs, Gram behind me, and out the kitchen door.
Smoke continued to escape, but had thinned by now. I choked on a stray thread still intact, looking around in frantic concern.
One of our neighbors jogged by with her dog on the opposite side of the street. She waved with good nature even though I knew the kitchen was still expelling the last of the smoke. For a moment she frowned, as if realizing something wasn't right. But almost immediately her smile returned and she continued on.
I looked around, Gram beside me. Not a soul was in sight. No one seemed to notice Dad almost launched our house into space.
So weird. Ever since we moved to Wilding Springs I'd gotten the feeling the whole town was supernatural. Why I had no idea, only that it seemed to serve us very well indeed.
Relieved no one called the fire department or a lynch mob, I turned and went back inside. Gram was grinning like it was funny. She went right to the stove and grasped the handle of the pot sitting there, bubbling with oatmeal, before promptly turning to dump the entire contents into the sink.
"I hate the stuff," she said. "Don't you? I'm making pancakes."
I shook my head and left her there. Yup, loose screws galore. At least she didn't shout at me to 'give it back' anymore. I'd done that in spades.
The basement had cleared out by the time I raced back downstairs. I knelt next to Mom and Dad while he caught his breath.
"Sorry," he said around a cough. "I lost control of it."
"Harry," Mom's relief was tinged with exasperation and for once I wasn't on the other end of it. Imagine. "What were you thinking?"
He didn't have to answer that. The pinched, sad look flickering over his face told both of us what he was thinking. He was trying to get home.
I patted his hand, feeling awkward, but wanting to comfort him. After all, I was the usual family screw up, not him. "Nice sonic boom there, Dad," I said, keeping it light. "If you wanted me to wake up you could have knocked on my door."
He smiled back, but it was strained. "I'll remember that, cupcake. No more shaking the house. Got it."
Mom and I helped him to his feet. Though mortal, he still towered over me, his broad and muscular physique the same as it had always been. Mom slipped under his arm, supporting him as she walked him to the stairs. She met my gaze, her mind touching mine.
Thank you, sweetheart. I'll take it from here.
I knew a dismissal when I heard one. When I reached the kitchen again, Gram was whistling and making pancakes, batter splashing everywhere. Meanwhile, Galleytrot stood with his front paws on the counter, lapping hot oatmeal out of the kitchen sink.
Typical morning at my house.
By the time Gram's messy but super delicious breakfast was ready, Mom returned. She sat at the table while Gram shoved a heaping plate in front of her, a dollop of butter and a slather of maple syrup covering the entire surface. I dove into mine, savoring the hint of cinnamon, giving Gram thumbs up between bites.
"How's Dad?" I sipped the conjured orange juice gingerly, sniffing first. Gram sometimes created things that didn't quite meet normal standards. For example, she'd made me a hot fudge sundae one afternoon, but forgot the sugar.
Big time gag. I hadn't had ice cream since.
Mom shrugged, only staring at her pancakes until Gram jabbed her with a fork. Mom smiled at her mother and took a bite before setting the fork down again. "He's fine," she said. Paused.
"This time." Gram swallowed her entire glass of juice before wiggling her fingers at it. Air and water magic combined as it flooded with more, so cold the sides frosted for a moment. Her faded blue eyes sparkled as she took a drink, smacking her lips together. "Delicious."
"Yes, Mother, you're right." Mom hugged herself, eyes far away. "This time."
"So what do we do about it?" I rubbed my stomach, full on pancakes and Gram's addictive orange juice. Whatever she put in the stuff, I was pretty happy when she refilled my glass too. "There has to be something we haven't tried."
My mother met my eyes, hers shuttered all of a sudden. "Don't worry, dear," she said in her best coven leader voice, face setting into "Mom" calm. "We'll figure it out."
Oh no she did not. She totally just shut me down. We'd been doing so well, getting along like we'd never had issues, and now she pulls this crap?
"Don't do that." I slammed my glass down harder than I'd planned. Gram scowled at me, mopping at the spilled juice. "Don't cut me out."
Mom scowled. "I'm trying to tell you nicely to stay out of it. All right?"
"No, it's not all right. Oh, and by the way, thanks for telling me about Sunny and Uncle Frank." I'd hit a sore spot. She actually flinched a little. "Sheesh, Mom, they're family."
"I didn't tell you," she said with steel in her voice, "because I knew you'd over react. This is just temporary." But even she sounded like she didn't believe it.
Gram snorted. "Tell them all to go to hell," she said.
"I'm with Gram." I pushed my chair back from the table, the legs grinding against the hardwood floor. "I can't believe you'd take the coven's side against your own brother."
Gram grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward her, eyes flashing fury. "She didn't, foolish girl," she said, perfectly lucid and totally in control. "They decided together."
My anger eased a bit. "I didn't know that."
Mom looked away. "Your Uncle Frank and I thought it would be best. Who told you?" Why the attack all of a sudden? Okay, so I'd been pushing her buttons. But she didn't have the right to be mad at me.
"Never mind. It doesn't matter." Resentment replaced anger. "None of it does, I guess. Just keep on shoving me into the dark, Mom. Don't trust me after all we've been through to make the right decisions or act like a member of this family." I was on my feet, heading for my room before she could answer.
Gram got in a parting shot. "You're welcome for the pancakes."
Yup. Old lady was still crazy.
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