White Witch, Black Curse
Chapter Twenty-three

The scent of beef stew was heavy in my mom's kitchen, but even that, combined with the homemade biscuits Mom had pulled out of the oven when I walked in the door, hadn't blunted my worry for Ivy. Dinner might have been pleasant; I didn't remember. I'd been there for over an hour, and still no one had called about Ivy. Just how long did it take to replenish an aura?
Adding to my state was the fact that somewhere in this house was an eight-hundred-level arcane textbook that my brother was hiding from me. My life was falling apart, and I wasn't leaving without it. I should just tell my mom and have her make Robbie give it to me, but the last time I'd used it, I'd gotten into a lot of trouble. I didn't need any more trouble tonight. I'd maxed out on it. I was wound so tight a hangnail might have sent me over the edge.
I handed Robbie the last of the glasses and fumbled in the dishwater for the bowls. The shifting-eyed witch above the sink ticked, and from the back of the house, I heard my mom thumping around, trying to find something. It was odd standing here, like I had while I was growing up. I washed; Robbie dried. 'Course, I didn't need to stand on a footstool anymore, and Robbie wasn't wearing grunge. Some changes were good.
Heels clicking on the tile, my mom came in looking happy and satisfied. I couldn't help but wonder what she was up to-she looked far too pleased with herself-though just having me and Robbie here at the sink like old times might account for it.
"Thanks for lunch, Mom," I said as I slipped a plate into the rinse water before Robbie could take it. "I'm sorry for dragging it out this late. I really thought I'd get over here sooner."
Robbie made a rude noise, but my mom beamed as she sat with her cold cup of coffee. "I know how busy you are," she said. "I just threw everything into the slow cooker, figuring we could eat whenever you got here."
I glanced at the ancient brown pot plugged into the wall, trying to remember the last time I had seen it, and if it had held food or a spell. God, I hoped it was food. "Stuff kept getting in the way. Trust me, I really wanted to be here earlier." Boy, did I want to be here earlier. I hadn't told them why I was late. Not with Robbie looking for a reason to needle me about my job. His mood tonight was bordering on smug, worrying me even more.
Robbie shut the door to the cupboard too hard. "Stuff always seems to happen to you, little sister. You need to make some changes in your life."
Excuse me? My eyes narrowed. "Like what?"
"It wasn't a problem, Robbie," my mom interrupted. "I knew she was probably going to be late. That's why I made what I did."
Robbie made that noise again, and I felt my blood pressure rise.
My mom got up and gave me a sideways squeeze. "If I knew you weren't trying to do ten things before the Turn, I'd be miffed. Want some coffee?"
"Yes. Thanks." My mom was pretty cool. It wasn't often that she took sides between Robbie and me, but he'd been on my case all night.
I handed him a plate, not letting go until he looked at me and I gave him a glare to get him to shut up. I really thought he'd been lying when he told me the book wasn't where he'd left it, trying to make me do things his way by force instead of persuasion-because persuasion wasn't going to work. I had to get up in that attic without my mom knowing. I didn't want to worry her. Snatching a ghost to get a demon to talk to you didn't sound safe even to me.
So when I handed the last dish to my brother, I used my perfect excuse, smiling as the sink drained. "Mom," I said as I dried my hands, "are my stuffed animals still in the attic? I have someone I want to give them to."
Robbie jerked, and my mom beamed. "I expect so," she said. "Who? Ceri's little girl?"
I allowed myself one superior look at Robbie, then went to sit across from my mom. We'd known Ceri was having a girl since last week, and my mom was as delighted as if it were one of her own. "No," I said as I fiddled with my mug. "I want to give them to some of the kids in the children's wing of the hospital. I met the brat pack yesterday. The ones who spend more time there than at home? It just seems right. You don't think Dad would mind, do you?"
My mother's smile turned beautiful. "I think he'd say that was the right thing to do."
I stood, restless and invigorated. Finally I was doing something. "Mind if I get them now?"
"Go right ahead. And if you find anything else up there you want, bring it on down."
Bingo! With her carte blanche to rummage, I was in the hall before she could call after me, "I'm putting the house on the market, and a clean attic sells better than a full one."
Huh?
The string to pull down the attic stairs slipped through my fist, and the ceiling door slammed shut. Not believing I'd heard her right, I went back to the kitchen. Robbie was smirking, his ankles crossed as he leaned against the sink with a cup of coffee. Suddenly I saw my mom's stilted conversation tonight in an entirely new way. I wasn't the only one hiding bad news. Shit.
"You're selling the house?" I stammered, seeing the truth in her downcast gaze. "Why?"
Taking a resolute breath, she looked up. "I'm moving out to the West Coast for a while. It's not a big deal," she said as I started to protest. "It's time for a change, is all."
Eyes squinting, I turned to Robbie. God! He looked too satisfied to live, leaning against the counter like that. "You...selfish brat," I said, furious. He'd been trying to get her to move out there for years, and now he'd finally gotten his way.
My mom shifted uncomfortably, and I reined in my anger, shoving it down to bring out when he and I were alone. This was where we'd grown up. This was where my memories with Dad were, the tree I had planted with his ashes. And now a stranger was going to have it? "Excuse me," I said stiffly. "I'll get my things out of the attic."
Ticked, I strode into the hall. "I'll talk to her," I heard Robbie say, and I made a sarcastic puff. I was going to do the talking, and he was going to listen.
This time I jerked the stairs all the way down and flipped on the light. A memory of Pierce came from out of nowhere. He had opened the attic for me when I'd been looking for my dad's ley line stuff to help him save a girl and his soul both. At least he had saved the girl.
Cold spilled down, and as Robbie came into the hallway, I stomped up the ladder and out of his reach. Chill silence enveloped me, doing nothing to cool my temper. The space was lit by a single bulb, making shadows on the stacked boxes and dark corners with angled support beams. My brow furrowed as I decided someone had been up here recently. There were fewer boxes than I remembered. Dad's stuff was missing, and I wondered if Robbie had thrown it all away in his efforts to keep me from using it.
"Selfish brat," I muttered, then reached for the topmost box of my stuffed animals. I'd gathered the toys one by one during my stints in the hospital or home sick in bed. Many bore the names and pretend personalities of my friends who hadn't made it out one last time to feel the wind push on their face. I hadn't taken them when I'd moved out, which was just as well. They wouldn't have survived the great salt dip of '06.
My pulse was fast as I took the box to the hole in the floor. "Catch," I said, dropping it when Robbie looked up.
He fumbled it, and the box smacked noisily into the wall. I didn't wait to see him glare up at me. Spinning away, I went for the next one. Robbie had gained the attic by the time I turned back around. "Get out of my way," I said, frowning at his tall height, hunched in the low ceiling.
"Rachel."
He wasn't moving, and unless I wanted to take the direct route to the hallway by way of crashing through the ceiling, I was stuck here. "I always knew you were a prick," I said, drawing on years of frustration. "But this is pathetic. You come back here and get her all stirred up and convince her to move out there with you and your new wife. I'm the one who held her together when Dad died, not you. You ran off and left me to cope with her. I was thirteen, Robbie!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice down but failing. "How dare you come out here and take her from me now, just when she's gotten herself together."
Robbie's face was red, and he shifted his thin shoulders. "Shut up."
"No, you shut up," I snapped. "She's happy here. She's got her friends, and this is where all her memories are. Can't you just leave us alone? Like you used to?"
Robbie took the box from me and set it beside him. "I said shut up. She needs to get out of here for every reason you just mentioned. And don't you be so selfish, keeping her here when she finally finds the courage to do it. Do you like seeing her like that?" he said, pointing to the unseen kitchen. "Dressing like an old lady? Talking like her life is over? That's not who she is. I remember her before Dad died, and that old lady isn't her. She's ready to let Dad go. Let her."
Arms crossed over my chest, I exhaled.
"I'm not taking her from you," he said, softer now. "You held her together when Dad died. I was a coward. I was stupid. But if you don't let her go now, then you're the coward."
I didn't like what I was hearing, but figuring he was right, I looked up at him. My face was twisted and ugly, but that's how I felt.
"She wants to be closer to Takata," he said, and I puffed in disgust. Sure, bring him into it. "She wants to be closer to Takata, and Takata can't live in Cincinnati," he said persuasively. "She doesn't have any friends here. Not really. And thanks to you, she can't sell her charms-now that you've been shunned."
Shock washed cold through me, and my expression blanked. "Y-you know about that?"
His eyes dropped from mine, then returned. "I was with her when we found out. They won't sell to her anymore, won't buy. She may as well be shunned herself."
"That's not fair." My stomach was hurting, and I held it.
Turning sideways, Robbie put one hand on his hip, the other on his forehead. "For Christ's sake, Rachel. You've been shunned?"
Embarrassed, I dropped back. "I-I didn't know they would...," I stammered, then realizing he had turned the tables on me, I lifted my chin. "Yes. Because I talk to demons."
Robbie sucked his teeth and looked at my demon-scarred wrist.
"Okay," I admitted. "And maybe make deals with them when I'm forced into it. And I've spent some time in the ever-after. More than most."
"Uh-huh."
"And a demon prison," I added, feeling a twinge of guilt. "But it was a run for Trent Kalamack. He was there, too. No one got mad at him."
"Anything else?" he mocked.
Wincing, I said, "You saw the news, huh?" The agony of my defeat, or in my case, being dragged down the street on my ass by a demon, had been worked into their opening credits.
Robbie's anger vanished in an amused snort. "That must have hurt."
I smiled, but it faded fast. "Not as bad as what you're doing to me does."
He sighed and nudged the box closer to the hole in the floor. "There isn't anything here for her, Rachel."
My pique came back. "There's me."
"Yeah, but thanks to your mess-ups, she can't make a living anymore."
"Damn it, Robbie," I swore. "I didn't want this to happen! If she leaves, I don't have anyone."
He edged to the stairway. "You've got your friends," he said, head down and shoving the box with his foot across the plywood floor to the door.
"Friends you've made abundantly clear you don't approve of."
"So make new ones."
So make new ones, I mocked in my thoughts. Bothered, I went to get the last box of stuffed animals I'd named after dead or dying friends. There were so many of them. My thoughts went to Marshal, then Pierce. How was I going to tell Marshal I'd been shunned? So much for that friendship. I never should have done a power pull with him.
Robbie lifted the second box. "You need to change something."
The scent of dust was thick as I took a breath to protest. "Like what? I try. I try damn hard, but there isn't anyone decent who can survive the crap my life can turn into."
Again Robbie's long face went hard, and he started down the stairs. "That is an excuse. You've been shunned, and you're hurting Mom. This goes deeper than who your friends are. On second thought, maybe that's all there is to it."
"You leave Ivy and Jenks out of this," I snapped, my worry for Ivy coming out as a hot anger. "They have more courage in one day then you will have in your entire life!"
Robbie's attention came up, and he scowled at me, his head just above the floor. "Grow up," he said. "Burn your demon books and get a real job. If you don't start thinking inside the box, you're going to end up in one."
Angry, I shifted the toys to my hip. "You are a piece of work. You know that? You don't know anything. You have no idea what I've done or what I'm capable of. And that comes at a cost. Nothing is free. I'll tell you what. You just take Mom and fly on back to your safe girlfriend, in your safe house, in your safe trendy neighborhood, and live your safe, predictable life and have safe, predictable kids, and die a safe, worthless death after doing absolutely nothing with your safe life. I'm going to stay here and do some good, because that's what people do when they are alive and not just going through the motions. I am not going to find myself on my deathbed, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't played it safe!"
My brother's face darkened. He took a breath to say something, then changed his mind. Sliding the waiting box into his arms, he descended the stairway.
"Thanks a hell of a lot, Robbie," I muttered. "Look at me. I'm shaking. I come over here for lunch, and now I'm shaking."
I headed for the stairway with my last box of dead friends. I could hear Robbie and my mother talking, but not their words. Halfway down the ladder, I stopped. My head even with the floor, I took one last look. The book I wanted wasn't up here. Robbie had it, and damn it, he wasn't going to give it to me. Maybe I could find something online. It wasn't the safest thing to do, but seeing it might trigger my memory enough that I could reconstruct it.
Knees watery, I descended into the green hallway backward off the ladder, almost backing up into my mom.
"Oh crap!" I stammered, knowing by her miserable expression she had heard everything. "I'm sorry, Mom. Don't listen to me. I'm just mad at him. I didn't mean it. You should go to Portland. Be with Takata, ah, Donald."
My mom's misery shifted to teary-eyed surprise at the pop star's real name. "He told you his name?"
I smiled back, though I was really upset. "Yeah. After I punched him."
The thump of the back door closing made me jump. It was Robbie going out to cool off. Whatever. "I'm sorry," I muttered as I edged by her and headed for the kitchen. "I'll apologize. It's no wonder he lives on the other side of the continent."
My mom closed the attic door with a bang. "We need to talk, Rachel," she said over her shoulder as she went in the opposite direction, to my old room.
Sighing, I came to a halt on the green carpet, depressed as she disappeared into my room. My head was starting to hurt, but I shifted the box on my hip and resolutely followed her, ready for the coming lecture. I hadn't meant to get into a fight with Robbie. But he'd ticked me off, and things needed to be said. Things like "Where in hell is my book?"
But when I entered my old room to find my dad's stuff piled up on my bed, I froze.
"This is for you," she said, gesturing to the dusty boxes. "If you want it. Robbie-" She took a slow breath and put a hand to her forehead briefly. "Robbie thinks I should throw it away, but I can't. There's too much of your dad in them."
I set the box of stuffed animals down, feeling guilty. "Thank you. Yes, I'd like it." I swallowed hard, and seeing her distress, I blurted, "Mom, I'm sorry I was shunned. It's not fair! They're being stupid, but maybe I should just drop it all and walk away."
She sat on the bed, not looking at me. "No. You shouldn't. But you do need to find a way to get your shunning removed. For all your rebel tendencies, you're not cut out for living outside society. You like people too much. I heard what you told Robbie. He's scared that he's a coward when he sees you live by your own convictions, so he yells at you to be safer."
I came close and shoved a box over so I could sit beside her. "I shouldn't have said that," I admitted. "And I really think you should go out to...Portland." My mouth felt nasty saying it, and I got depressed. "Maybe..." I swallowed a lump in my throat. "Maybe I should just scrap the whole thing. They might take the shunning off if I walked away from everything."
But I'd have to leave Ivy and Jenks, and I can't do that.
My mom's eyes were bright when she took my hand. "I'm going. And you're staying. But I'm not leaving you here alone."
I stifled a wince as I thought of her matchmaking attempts, and as I took a breath to protest, she handed me a smooth, shiny textbook. "Is this the one you're looking for?" she said softly.
My mouth dropped open, and I stared. Arcane Divination and Cross-Tangential Science, volume nine. That was it! This was the one I needed!
"That's the book Robbie gave you on the solstice when you were eighteen, right?" she was saying. "I made Robbie give it to me, but I didn't know if it was the right one. I think you'll need this, too."
Eyes wide, I took the red-and-white rock with the small dip in it with shaking hands. She wanted me to rescue Pierce? "Why?" I managed, and my mom patted my knee.
"Pierce was good for you," she said instead of explaining. "I watched you find more strength and personal resolve in that one night together than the entire eighteen years before. Or maybe it was always there, and he simply brought it out. I'm proud of you, sweetheart. I want you to do wonderful things. But unless you have someone to share them with, they don't mean a dog's ass. Trust me on this."
I couldn't say anything, and I just stared at the book and the crucible. She thinks Pierce would make a good boyfriend? "Mom, I only want this to prove to Al that he can't just jerk people into the ever-after," I said, and she smiled.
"That's a good start," she said as she stood up, drawing me to a stand in her wake. "Save him, and if it works, then it does. If it doesn't, then no harm done. The important thing is that you try." My mom leaned forward and gave me a hug, smothering me in a heady redwood scent.
I was pretty sure she was talking about trying Pierce on as a boyfriend, not trying to summon him out, and I absently hugged her back.
"You need someone a little dirty, honey, with a heart of gold," she whispered in my ear as she patted my back. "I don't think you're going to find it in this century. We don't make honest men who are that strong in their convictions anymore. Society seems to just...twist them bad."
She let go and stepped back. "Mom," I managed, but she waved me off.
"Go. Go on. You still have the watch, don't you?"
I nodded, not surprised she knew it was part of the spell. It was my dad's watch, but it had been Pierce's before that.
"Do it exactly like before. Exactly. If you added something by accident, do it again. If you stirred it with your finger, do it again. If you got your hair into it, add a strand. It has to be exact."
Again I nodded. There were tears in both our eyes, and she walked me to the hall with her arm over my shoulders. "Don't worry about the rest of this. I'll bring everything over tomorrow in the Buick. Your little car would need three trips."
Blinking, I smiled at my mom and pulled the book and stone tight to me. "Thanks, Mom," I whispered. And with the knowledge that my mom believed in me even if the rest of the world didn't, I headed for the door.