Broomstick, page 12
“Just sign the last three pages, okay?” he says with a smile. He butters some bread and hands it to me. That’s so adorable. “Got it?”
“Aha.”
“I think it’s a good decision, Katie. You won’t be out of the loop anymore.”
I sigh and raise my glass of wine as if in a toast. It’s a really big glass. It tastes sweet and quite lovely.
“So…it might snow next week,” I say. “Are you guys still going to get on your brooms and fly around naked?” I often try to be funny when I’m nervous.
He smiles. “You’ll know after you sign,” he says, waving his hand over the document.
I pick up a pen. I’m surprised at how much legal jargon there is. It’s actually a bit intimidating.
I look up. “So…you sue me if I tell?” Then I’m staring back down at the document. I turn two pages because there’s no way I’m actually going to read it.
“It’s a formality, Cadence. It’s more binding through magic than by law. But the secrecy is quite real for the coven.”
I sign the document. He takes it from me, looking elated. Then I feel regret. I feel like I just signed away my soul to the devil.
“On Friday, Cadence, we’ll initiate you.”
“Great.” That seemed simple enough. I sip more wine.
The waitress comes and takes our order. She’s wearing a formal suit. I can barely see the suit because it’s so dark. Then I take a bite of the sourdough bread and wonder if it has mold on it. I’d never know because it’s so dark, but it tastes quite warm and fresh.
We order steaks, cooked medium, with baked potatoes. Then I sit back with my wineglass and smile at my hunk of a date. I’m amused by the fact that we’ve been chasing each other back and forth for the last couple of months, but this is our first actual date. And then I wonder if that’s my prime reason for joining.
“Well, now that that’s over.” Bryce raises his wineglass and looks up thoughtfully. “You know it’s not often I take my students out to dinner.”
“It’s not often I go out on dates with my teachers.”
Then we’re quiet. I butter more bread and turn to the windows, which are draped in red and impossible to see out of.
What I really want to ask him about is our encounter, but I don’t know how to broach the subject. It was so weird, and I’m worried that bringing it up will just spook me again. But if we ever want to go beyond our date tonight, I should bring it up. But then I think about the contract again, and I wonder if I’m a complete idiot for signing it.
“You’re such a mystery, Cadence,” he says with a chuckle.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re always thinking. What’re you thinking about right now?”
“That I shouldn’t have signed my soul away to the devil.”
He laughs. “I can tear it up.”
And now’s my chance. What a perfect time to ask him about—
“Why don’t you tell me about your mother,” he says. “Whenever we mourn for someone, in a way that person becomes a part of us, or at the very least, a part of our family. Emily’s now a part of the coven. What was she like?”
I don’t want to talk about my mother. He seems to sense it, and he puts a hand up. “I’m just—”
“No, Bryce. Tell me about yourself. Did you grow up in Georgia?”
“I grew up in Missouri…Springfield, Missouri. My family has a farm out there.”
“How’d you get interested in history?”
“For the same reason as you.” He sips his wine. “I love stories. And I love learning of the past. Ever since I was a child. I used to play with Civil War soldiers. I learned about all the battles.”
I smile, imagining Bryce as an adorable little boy.
“I imagined I was fighting the Battle of Bull Run or Gettysburg. So even in elementary school I read books about the nineteenth century. I came to Hawthorne University because of its emphasis on historical studies. Then I was as mesmerized as you probably were with Dr. Johansen. I loved her passion for her work. Her subject matter—the dark arts—put me off at first—as it probably did you—but then I understood the reason for it. She studies it because she seeks to cure evil. She’s a very bright blue light, Cadence. Her personality is of the clearest water. She is good, but so many misunderstand her. She’s probably better than anyone I know. But of course she creeped me out at first too—you know, her obsession with shadowy dark magic.”
“Which you can now tell me all about, since I signed that stupid document, right?”
“Sure.” He leans forward. “But it’s just a legal document. Your agreement—with your blood, at your initiation—will be more binding.”
I gulp my wine down harder.
“What would you like to know?” he asks, amused by my reaction.
“Blood?”
“Alondra will take a dagger to your arm.” I’m remembering when I saw her do it to herself. I find myself shaking my head, and my eyes are probably bulging. I’m picturing myself as their sacrificial animal.
Bryce grabs my hand. “Don’t worry, Cadence. Everything will go slow. Alondra is the greatest leader any coven could ever have.”
“I don’t want anyone to stab my arm.”
“You will,” he says reassuringly. “When you see the rewards, you’ll bear all the costs. Just as a pregnant woman bears pain.”
Shit. Now I’m about ready to ask for the documents back.
“Cadence,” he says, rubbing my hand, “there’s nothing anyone will ever force you to do against your will. You’ll have every right to refuse the blood sacrifice.”
“I can’t even get my blood drawn at the doctor’s office.”
He laughs and I laugh too. Then he looks around. “There are herbs that Alondra will give you. Some will let you see more clearly than you’ve ever seen before. Some …”
He keeps talking, and I’m struck by his passion for the whole thing. He loves this cult as much as Alondra loves to teach ancient history. He doesn’t have this much passion for being a TA. The coven is so important to him, and he seems desperate to get me to feel the same way. But I stop listening. I’m thinking about that curved knife and blood.
“Trust me,” he says finally, rubbing my hand more sensually than protectively. I blush a little.
I pick up my wineglass, and I’m surprised to see my hand shaking a little.
“Cadence,” he says, watching my hand, “you must believe me. I won’t let anyone ever harm you. I swear it.”
And I look into his eyes and he means it. I force down some wine.
“What…what did you mean water? You called Alondra a water personality.”
“The whole universe,” he explains, opening his hands—again quite passionately, “is made up of four elements: fire, water, air, and earth. And then there is another energy binding it all. Everyone’s personality can be described based on these elements. Alondra is very sensitive and empathetic. She’s also psychic. It’s what makes her such an amazing leader. She’s like water.”
“What am I, then?”
“You are,” he says with a chuckle, “an earther. Your personality includes pragmatism. And you’re also very stubborn.”
I laugh too. He’s right about that.
“So these elemental personalities are like astrology signs?” I ask.
“Yes, exactly. In fact, an earth element corresponds to Taurus, Virgo, and Capricorn. What sign are you, Cadence?”
“Capricorn.”
Bryce extends his arms in a gesture meaning see?
“Okay, genius, what are you, then?”
“Hmm, what do you think I am, Cadence?”
“I don’t know all this sign bullshit yet.”
He shakes his head. “I really wish you believed a little more in magic, Katie. But that also goes with your sign… Anyway, I’m like fire and my sign is Leo and, accordingly, we are totally incompatible.”
We both laugh again.
The waitress brings our food. It looks delightful, with some lovely garnishes embellishing the steak sauce. I bite into the tender steak and it’s delicious.
“The tarot cards corresponding to earth are Pentacles and Coins,” Bryce says with his mouth full. “Your corresponding card would probably be Queen of Pentacles, but really Wizard Reardon is the expert in cards.”
“Wizard?”
“Yeah. He’s the leading wizard, or warlock, of the coven.”
“Oh,” I say.
He chuckles again. “Alondra will expect you to know all this like the back of your hand. You’ll need it to cast spells.”
“Cast spells?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Yes. Spells. We’re witches. We cast spells.”
“So you’re a witch?”
“Yes, and after you get initiated, you will be too.”
“Fantastic.”
He laughs. Then he scoops up some potato, swallows it quickly, and says, “Cadence, I’ve been dying to ask you this. Your last name is Hawthorne. Are you related to the Hawthorne family?”
“Dad probably was, but I don’t know. But it helped in my admission interview.”
“I’m sure it did.”
“We don’t really know our family tree for sure.”
“Hmm. Maybe…maybe he’s a descendant of Escoba’s?”
He laughs, as if acknowledging how silly this is, but I have a feeling he’s been thinking it.
“Or maybe Abigail, Bryce. I really don’t know.”
“You should check. Being that you’ll be a graduate—and if you continue in the honors program, I’m sure Alondra will want to keep you as a graduate student—you should find out your connection.”
“I don’t know where to look.”
“The archives. You could check in D.C.” I think he wants to know more than I do.
I eat some more steak. It gives me a break from Tall, Dark, and Handsome. But I catch a few glimpses of him chewing his steak. He keeps looking at me. My dress is a success, I suppose.
“Let me ask you something.” I say seriously. I feel like now is the time.
“Hmm?”
“That night, that night you came to me. Or…did you come to me? I don’t even know.” My skin feels hot, and I probably brighten as red as a tomato.
All of a sudden, he becomes very serious. He nods. “I shouldn’t have, Cadence. I’m sorry. I broke the rule of the coven. I used left-handed magic without Alondra’s permission. Alondra was furious.”
“Left-handed?”
“Yes,” Bryce says sheepishly. He looks down for a moment. “Bill taught it to me. It’s a manipulative and deceptive conjuring, not white magic. Of course Reardon says there is no left or right, white or black magic. To him, casting any spell that satisfies the flesh is fair game. But not to Alondra. When Alondra found out I conjured up an incubus, she threw me out of the circle for a week. She made an offhand remark about it being because I was a man.”
At this point, I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. Nor do I care. What I really want to know is—
“Actually, I didn’t even know if it would work,” he adds, more to himself than to me. “I thought, at the very least, it would make you believe in magic. But it was forbidden.”
“I don’t care about rules, Bryce. Did you… Were you …” I can’t even think of how to ask it.
“Yes. I was there, Cadence.”
I feel uncomfortable, almost violated. And my mind is mixed up. Can I even believe it? If it’s true, I had sex with him. And in such a weird way. I look at him and he seems uncomfortable too.
“I told you it was wrong, Cadence. I’m sorry.”
“Then why’d you do it?” I’m surprised by my own tone. I’m angry. “You didn’t ask me and you didn’t tell me what you were doing.”
“I’m an idiot. I wanted you, just like I want you now. I’m attracted to you. And I thought the magic would convince you to sign, like you did today. You’re right. It was wrong. But I—”
“By fucking me in a bathtub with a witch spell?” I ask in a forced whisper. He smiles at my jab, and it makes me angrier.
“I never knew how aroused I’d get by hearing you cuss, Cadence.”
I shake my hair out angrily. He touches my hand and I quickly pull away.
“Listen to me, please, Cadence, I wanted to show you our world. I figured the magic of that night would make you want to join.”
“It was creepy. It’s not how people show love.”
“You’re right. I was wrong. Very wrong. I’m sorry. I heard an earful already from Alondra.”
“Who cares about Alondra, Bryce. This is about us.”
“You’ll care,” he says, lifting his glass of wine and pointing at me. “Alondra is our leader.”
“You’re a pervert. It seems all you men are.” And I stick my fork into a couple of pieces of broccoli over that conclusion.
“Yeah, probably. That’s exactly what Alondra said. It was wrong.” Then he touches my hand, but I pull away. “Look, I won’t ever do anything like that again. I promise. Please forgive me, Cadence. I told you, I thought it was a way to introduce you to magic. I thought … it was okay because it was magic. I never thought I was disregarding your wishes. You must believe, I would never want to deceive you. God, I’d never want to hurt you. Besides, the spell doesn’t even work unless it’s done by mutual consent.”
He has this really sad look, but he still pisses me off. I look straight into his eyes, and I drawl very distinctly and slowly, “F-u-c-k y-o-u.”
I can’t eat my steak. I feel too much pressure in my throat. And I can’t look at him. Not even those to-die-for glorious blue eyes.
“Anyway, you didn’t,” I continue, “because nothing really happened. The whole thing was impossible.”
Bryce puts his fork and knife gently down on his plate, leans back and closes his eyes. Then he says, “You chose a small bathroom. You covered the mirror with a large black drape. There were red rose petals along the sinks, and there was a small figurine of a goddess. The figurine was a white stone statue, covering her naked groin with one hand while holding her long hair with the other. You faced away from the door. There were two sinks, and the faucets were old-fashioned with long brass stems and bronze handles. There was a white carpet on the floor.”
“You probably saw the figurine,” I say with a shrug. “Or Maddie told you.”
“I didn’t see the carpet in the bathroom.”
“A lot of houses have white carpets.”
He exhales impatiently and then quips, “All right. You need more?” He talks more quietly. “First we held hands, then we kissed. You pulled at my shirt, yanking off the top button, then you took my shirt—”
“Enough,” I say with my hand raised. I don’t want to hear it played out. It creeps me out even more.
“I was there, Cadence. I was as much there as I am here before you. But it was a spell, an incubus spell.”
“So I’m no longer a virgin?” I snap. He looks at me oddly; then he looks around the restaurant because I’m really loud. He laughs and covers his mouth.
“Really?” he asks.
“You took my virginity with a witch spell?”
“First off,” he says, finally getting a little angry too but talking quietly, “I didn’t know you were a virgin. That’s adorable. Second of all, a virgin is someone who has not had intercourse. I did not have intercourse with you, Cadence. It was a spell. Any man would love to sleep with you, but that is totally up to you.”
“I think you should take me home,” I snap. I hit the table. “This is unreal.”
“Jesus! Come on!” He runs his hand down his face.
“Yes, Jesus. Perhaps you and your coven should think more about him.”
“Our coven! You know, Cadence …” His face has reddened, and his lips are quivering in rage. “Cadence, you are the most difficult girl I’ve ever met. You’re not just stubborn, you’re completely impossible. I don’t think you would believe in magic even if I pulled a rabbit out of my ass!”
He’s really pissed. I just shrug.
I’m relieved. I’ve been wanting to talk about that night throughout our date. Now I feel like I’ve finally gotten everything off my chest. I don’t even feel that angry at him anymore. In fact, even with his lingering rage, I’m studying his gorgeous features.
He gulps some wine and does everything possible to avoid my eyes.
“I’m enjoying dinner,” I say, biting into more steak. “And my bath… It was lovely… Thank you. Are we having dessert?”
He cocks his head in amazement. “What would you like, Cadence?”
“Crème brûlée.”
17
Mandrake
To say that I’m not nervous would be stupid. I’m sitting on one of Alondra’s elegant white leather sofas, staring at the flat-screen TV on the wall. There’s nothing on, but there’s also no one to talk to at the moment. I’m by myself, tapping my knees and waiting. And that’s making me more nervous. Meanwhile, every so often, one of the ladies from the coven walks by, gives me a nod, opens the sliding door, and takes something outside. They’re preparing for some kind of outdoor event, and that’s weird because it’s cold and raining outside.
Every one of the girls is wearing a long black cape and short black dress. I’m not. I’m in a white sweater and jeans.
I cross one leg over another. Then I switch legs and stare at the elegant stone chimney. Then I cross the other leg back again, fidgeting with my fingers.
One of the members, Tammy—the pretty black girl with long hair like me—hands me a glass of red wine. I get up and smile. “I know it’s a bit weird, Cadence, but we’ll be done soon,” she says with a wink. “Just sit tight, ’kay?”
“You sure there’s nothing I can do to help?”
“Not unless you know how to brew cauldrons.”
I laugh, but it’s not really funny. Still, I like Tammy. She’s a lot like me. And I suppose she’s prone to saying funny things at inopportune moments too.
