Chapter 217: Ms. Spaft
An hour of detention being stared at by Ms. Spaft had to come in on my top five most despised life events, and I'd been through some doozies. But at least Alison had been right. I was far from alone. In fact, the class was packed to the point she'd had extra chairs brought in to accommodate the easily fifty kids crammed into the classroom.
Fabulous way to kick off the first day of school. The worst part wasn't the detention itself, but the task assigned to each of us by our overlady. I glared at the paper in front of me, my fourth attempt at writing her an apology she'd accept as sufficiently repentant. The girls inside me weren't the least helpful, my demon suggesting we shove said letter somewhere Ms. Spaft wouldn't find it until her next trip to the bathroom while Shaylee alternated between urging me to just comply and getting huffy over a princess being bossed about by a mere mortal.
It's not like my written sorry for something I shouldn't be sorry for was the only one being rejected. Football jocks sweated beside cheer girls and even a few of the local braniacs joined us, meltdowns imminent. I wasn't looking forward to the puddles of tears steaming their glasses or the sound of snuffling snot, the inevitable accompaniment to said tears. Clearly the woman's only intention was total and utter humiliation.
It was obvious from the get go, the moment she slammed the detention room door, getting everyone's attention.
"Students." She said the word like we were evil incarnate. "Sit. Down."
The what I assumed was typical carousing going on during detention came to an abrupt end. Even the tough guys found their seats as Ms. Spaft swept the room with her black-eyed gaze.
"Now," she said. "Each of you has broken school rules in one way or another. It is my task, as your new Vice Principal, to ensure all students follow the letter of the law." I pictured her in a police uniform while my demon hummed her unhappiness. What had I gotten myself into? "That being said, in order to impress upon you the importance of being good students who only add value to your school, you will write a letter to me, apologizing for your behavior with your assurance such behavior will never happen again."
It was a threat. Everyone felt it, no question. Which led us to the present, the clock above her desk ticking past the hour, her steady, watchful gaze never leaving us. I don't even think she blinked.
My dear Ms. Spaft,
It's clear to me how very wrong I was this morning and my actions went against the best interests of everyone at Wilding Springs High. Being late is one of the worst offenses I could commit and I am so very sorry I forced you to confront me and take action. I understand now paying attention to boys instead of my schoolwork and responsibilities has led me astray. Thank you very much for showing me just how important it is to follow the rules. I look forward to your leadership for the rest of the year, knowing your guidance will help me be the best student I can be.
Sincerely,
Sydlynn Hayle
It hurt so much to sign this latest note. I'd added the sucking up at the end in the hopes it would help. At that point, I didn't care what I had to write or say if it meant I was finally able to leave the stuffy, heavy air of the room and just go home.
My demon hissed at me and the fact I'd sold out, but I ignored her as I rose and went to Ms. Spaft for the third time. Her eyes visibly followed my slow shuffle to her desk, head down, gaze on the ground. How did I know she watched me? I could feel it.
The submissive stance was part of it, I was certain. I handed her the note and stood there quietly while she read it. It seemed like the entire student body behind me collectively held their breath, almost as if my pending opportunity for freedom meant they at last had hope.
There was a long pause, so long I almost looked up. But I held my ground, fingers crossed, swearing to myself I'd never allow this to happen again.
I heard Ms. Spaft draw a breath, a sharp and almost angry sound. "Very well, Ms. Hayle," she said crisply. "This is adequate. Make certain you're never late for class again."
"Thank you, Ms. Spaft." I had to unlock my jaw to speak, but the words must have come out suitably meek because she waved her hand at me.
As I turned back to my chair to retrieve my backpack, I caught the group sigh of breath from everyone else. Tension broken, one by one, they began to rise and approach her. My cue to get the hell out of there.
School air had a particular aroma, a mix of cleaners and mold and too many kids wearing too many kinds of perfume and cologne mixed with the scent of deep fryer grease. But, I can honestly say when I stepped into the hallway and took a deep breath, I'd never smelled anything so sweet.
It didn't mean I had a pleasant walk home. Quite to the contrary. I stomped and swore my way down the sidewalk, kicking at every offending stone, every scrap of garbage, even going out of my way to lash out at a trash can with the toe of my sneaker.
It hurt, but the pain was worth it. I finally released some of my anger, not to mention the very tight lockdown I had on my magic. I shielded so strongly to prevent my power from slipping out, I'd cut myself off from the rest of the world.
The moment my wards eased, Mom's mind latched onto mine.
Where have you been? Anger warred with fear and desperation. I staggered from the weight of the unexpected contact.
Mom! I started to run for home, only a couple of blocks, panic gripping me as she clung on and wouldn't let go. What's wrong?
Home. Now! She left me abruptly, tearing free so fast I stumbled for the second time. The park flew by until I was at the kitchen door, slamming my way through into chaos.
Our house was very well shielded, now the source of our family's magic since our coven site was compromised by the Chosen of the Light. It meant the outside world was protected from whatever happened in it. Meaning, the moment I passed the wards, I was assaulted by so much power my stomach heaved while a headache instantly bloomed between my eyes. I threw up my personal shields again, enough I had some protection from the madness as Mom spun around and glared at me.
"Where is your grandmother?" She stalked toward me, gripping my arms in her hands, shaking me a little. "Where did she go?"
Like I even had a remote clue. And, as usual, I took the wrong attitude, fed by my recent experience, though I'm willing to admit it's pretty likely I would have found my way to mad anyway.
I jerked free of her, anger bubbling. "How should I know?" I rubbed at where she'd squeezed my skin. Mom was never physical with me. "I've been at school, remember?"
Mom's anger sagged into fear then back again. "You must know," she said. "The two of you are so connected. Where is she?"
Her words finally sank in, as did her state of mind. "Gram's gone?" My memory flickered to that morning. Mom's attitude, how Gram alluded to another argument about the Dumonts. How Gram acted. The whole now creepy insistence in her tone when she basically told me she was leaving.
Why hadn't I understood what she was telling me? When I got it I sighed out the understanding in a huff of frustration. The magic connection, the power she'd used. It was a spell after all, a way for her to say sayonara without tipping me off.
Sneaky, crazy, contrary old-
The dawning fear those words were some kind of goodbye must have shown in my face because Mom instantly seized on the change, if not my person again. "Tell me."
I ignored her, instead reaching out for Gram. Usually she was right there, almost too close for comfort. But when I tried to find her, I met only blankness. How had I not noticed she'd gone? Damn it, so obvious. I spent the day cut off. I wouldn't have been aware the world ended unless someone told me.
"Syd." Mom's voice vibrated. "Where did my mother go?"
"I don't know," I said. "I'm sorry. She's not there anymore." I touched my temple with one finger. Mom's face twisted, but I kept going. "She used her power on me, Mom. You know what she's like."
Mom relented a fraction at a time, anger dissolving before me. I reached out to her as my own worry grew. Her fury faded, the real anxiety and fear left behind as she pulled me against her and hugged me.
"She'll be okay," I whispered into Mom's thick, black hair, savoring her constant scent of lilacs. "Gram was an Enforcer, remember?"
Mom pulled away, blue eyes full of tears. "She's gone after Odette." I knew she was right. It was the most logical choice. The Dumont leader had so much to answer for and still held a horrible grudge against our family for the death of Odette's sister, even though said sister was the cause of her own downfall, not to mention forcing Gram to lose seventeen years of her life to madness.
"We don't know that for sure." Leave it to Dad to try to comfort her. But even he looked slightly embarrassed he'd tried to gloss it over. He met my eyes, his also full of worry.
Great. Mad grandmother on the loose. This could be very, very bad.
Or, it could end in Odette's death and a bit of a celebration.
I tried to look on the bright side.
"This is a disaster." Mom's anger surged anew. "She has no idea what she's tampering with." She turned away from me, face twisting into an expression I barely recognized as hers.
"Something happened." I looked back and forth between her and Dad. Mom might have been good at hiding things, but Dad was a sucker.
"Syd," he glanced at Mom, the shake of her head before looking back at me. "There have been threats."
"What kind of threats?" My power zinged around me, demon and Sidhe coming to my call as my witch magic reached for Mom. She held me off with little effort, the massive family power under her control.
"Toward us." Dad's shoulders sagged. "You, your mother. Your sister."
"So what?" My tone was much harsher than I intended, but I was tired of being treated like a kid. "Let them threaten us."
Again Dad looked at Mom, as if for permission. I glared at him as he met my eyes at last.
"Last night..." He reached out and took my hand as he started up again. "Last night a group of vampires spotted someone outside the house."
Fear tickled my skin, making goosebumps rise. "Who?"
"They don't know," he said. "But they did find evidence that whoever it was had mischief in mind."
Mom growled something under her breath as she began to pace, bare feet making loud slapping sounds on the tiles. "Mischief," she snarled. "Someone tried to set fire to the house, Syd. And if it wasn't for Sunny and Anastasia..."
"You have to go to the Council." I choked on those words even as they came out.
"And tell them what?" Mom turned to face me, fury warring with worry in every inch of her body. "Whoever it was," she stressed the word, letting me know she had no doubt the source of the attack, "didn't plan to use magic." She stopped abruptly, jaw working. "We found three jerry cans of gasoline behind the hedgerow."
"Mom," I said. "We would have been fine."
She didn't meet my eyes. "I know." The wards would have protected us. The Dumonts had to know such an attack would get them nowhere.
Unless they had a plan we weren't aware of. A way to break through the wards. I shuddered at that. We were witches, yes, but even we could die from smoke inhalation if fire started up while we slept.
While I turned those thoughts over in my mind, Mom turned to Dad, holding out her hand. He passed over a piece of paper she gave to me. Gram's scrawl was easily readable, only because I was used to it. Her handwriting hadn't improved with her return to mostly sanity.
Miriam,
Time to balance the scales. My freedom means your freedom, and the girl's future. Our coven has lived with it for long enough.
Mom
Oh crap. I reached out again, allowing the full force of my demon's magic to assault the blank space between me and Gram. Her barrier fluttered a moment, just long enough for me to get the message.
I love you.
Why did it feel so final? I came back to the kitchen and met Mom's eyes, my vision wavering as it brimmed with moisture.
"She's not coming back."
The low cry from Mom sounded like physical pain. She clutched her hands in front of her chest as tears trickled down her cheeks. "Damn her," she whispered. "I've only just gotten her back and she pulls a stunt like this."
For the first time I saw Mom as a daughter, just like I was. Of course intellectually I understood Gram was her mother. But Mom was always the one in power, in control, so really comprehending Gram and Mom had the same relationship as Mom and I never got through to me. Until now. My whole body trembled as I put myself in Mom's place. She'd not only lost her mother to madness seventeen years ago, she'd been thrust into taking over a powerful coven well before her time with a small baby to tend. Forced to care for her reduced parent while losing her father to the entire mess, him a traitor to the coven, must have been devastating. Grandfather Ivan was a cousin of the Dumonts, their tool. Mom never talked about him, not once.
I guess I didn't blame her.
And now, after Gram's return, after having her mother back only a short eight weeks, she was gone again. I stepped forward and hugged Mom as we cried together.
Dad's strong arms enveloped both of us, his warm amber magic wrapping us up. Even Mom caved, letting him support her. I was happy for the precious moment of family unity.
Wasn't meant to last.
"I have to go after her." Mom pulled away, sadness gone, anger back, coven leader reasserting herself. "She's going to start a war that could mean the end of our coven."
"Maybe not," I said. "What if she knows what she's doing?" I thought of Quaid's warning and was about to bring it up when Mom's rage fired up again and turned on me.
"You have no idea what you're talking about." She retreated from me, physically and magically, arms twining around herself as she cut off both Dad and me. "This is a disaster."
"Excuse me," I snapped, button pushing polished to a high sheen over years of experience and practice, "but I think you're forgetting something."
"What's that?" Fury crackled along the edges of her words.
"You and everyone else have always underestimated her." Mom's whole body jerked, like I'd slapped her, face very pale. "That's right," I went on, steam rolling my way over her feelings and any chance I had to turn this around to a positive ending. "You never once believed her when she was crazy, that she was trying to help us." Not really accurate and entirely unfair, but it hardly mattered at the moment. "She's been stronger and smarter and more aware all along than anyone ever thought. Tried to warn us, fought through insanity so thick she could barely reach us, saved our asses at risk to what little connection she had to herself." I saw Mom's grief return, now flavored with a healthy dose of guilt. Good. She should feel guilty. I knew I did. "So maybe, just for once, you could trust your mother might have a freaking clue."
I didn't wait for Mom to say anything, and shoved past Dad's reaching hands on my way to my room.
***
