House Of Ivy And Sorrow Part 2

Sometimes Control is hard. Nana says being Consumed is like being drunk on magic-you feel more powerful than ever, you are, but you lose yourself in the process. The darkness Consumes your soul bit by bit as payment, until you're a slave to the power you could once control.

Always a price.

The dark shadows are Consumption. Or at least something tied to someone who has been Consumed. I can feel their hunger. They desire to have me, call to me with promises of power beyond anything I have now.

It's wrong. I repeat the words over and over as I head into the night. The cool spring air nips at my arms, but it's nothing in comparison to the aura that man brings with him.

The Main Street house is four blocks from here, but I can't stand to walk that far. I worry the man is already making his way back outside, determined to talk to me again, and this time I don't have the protection of our magic-fortified iron gate.

I wince as I rip out a handful of hair. Then I wrap it around my palm until it looks like a pentagram. Closing my eyes, I visualize my room. The white drapes and blue window-seat pillows. My armoire and full-length mirror. The magic surges from my toes to my head. Soon I'll be safe from the darkness. A little bald, but safe.

The restaurant door slams behind me. "Jo?"

I let out a squeak at the voice, and my spell is broken. Whirling around, I find Winn standing there with a box. I let my handful of hair fall to the ground. "What are you doing out here?"

His brow furrows with concern. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Sorry." I slump. "I told you things could go downhill."

"You didn't get to eat." He holds out the box, and I melt a little. "Thought you should at least have dinner."

I take it, wis.h.i.+ng so badly that I could go back in there and pretend nothing was wrong. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that-I haven't paid."

He shrugs. "I was going to pay for you anyway."

"Oh." He's killing me here. I can't help but think about how incredible this night could have been, and instead I have to run out on him. "I better-"

The door swings open again, and my jaw drops. Winn sees my expression, which I a.s.sume has crumbled into horror, and turns to look at what caused it. "Can I help you, sir?"

"I need to speak with your . . . friend," he says, his eyes intent on me, desperate and sad. The darkness seeps out of him, slowly making its way over. "I need to know if she's Carmina Hemlock's daughter."

"Leave me alone." I take a few steps back. "You have no business here. I won't talk to you."

The man comes forward. "But-"

Winn stands in his way. "She said she didn't want to speak with you."

"Winn." I tentatively put my palm on his back. "I have to go home. Now. Can you take me home?"

"Of course." He takes my hand and pulls me to his truck.

"Wait!" The man and his shadows follow. "Please! I don't mean you any harm. I would never do anything to Carmina's fam-"

"Get away from her!" Winn quickly unlocks the driver's side. "Climb in."

I do as I'm told, landing in the pa.s.senger seat right as he revs the engine. He peels out way too fast, but under the circ.u.mstances I don't mind. As Winn heads for my house, I realize the man might follow us. "Drive around a little. I don't want him knowing where I live."

"Okay." He makes a right on the closest street. "Can I ask what's going on? You're trembling, Jo."

"I am?" I look down, just realizing my arms really are shaking. My fingers are freezing. No, all of me is freezing. I rub my hands together. "I guess it's colder outside than I thought."

He turns on the heat. "I don't think that's the only reason."

My throat tightens. What am I supposed to say? Witches don't tell outsiders about our powers-way too much bad history with that. But I have to tell him something, especially since he's putting his neck on the line more than he knows. "He's . . . been asking about my mother. I think he figures I'm her daughter because we look alike. I have no idea who he is, but he gives me the creeps. It's like he's following me."

Winn purses his lips. "That doesn't sound good."

"No." I pull my knees up, hugging them to my chest. We drive in silence for a few moments. Night is starting to fall over the endless fields outside town. Soon they'll be planted, and by the end of the summer there will be corn, corn, and more corn. "Please don't tell anyone about this. It's personal. Family stuff."

"I would never. Secrets are my specialty."

I put my head to my knees. Talk about downhill. Suddenly I feel exposed, like Winn is one step away from knowing way too much about me. "I'm so sorry I dragged you into this."

"It's my fault. I'm the one who followed you out, though I gotta admit I'm glad I did."

I scoff. "Glad you got forced into driving me away from a possible stalker? You sure have a strange idea of fun."

"No." The car slows to a stop, and when I look up there's nothing but field in every direction. "Glad I could be there for you when you needed it."

I shouldn't be smiling right now, but Winn has a way of doing that. I grab the box from the dashboard. "And you made sure we had food."

He laughs. "Hope you don't mind that we stopped. Don't want to run my tank dry."

"We're probably okay out here." I open the box, suddenly starving. "We could wait a little to make sure he's gone, if you don't mind."

"I don't." He grabs the other slice, and we eat.

It takes a second for it to sink in, but once I realize we're alone in his truck, in the middle of nowhere, I panic for very different reasons. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Our southern field," he says through a bite of pizza. "Figured we could see him coming from here."

"Good idea."

"I have them sometimes."

I glance over, only to find him staring right back at me. I keep waiting for him to look away, but he doesn't. "What?" I finally say.

He shakes his head. "Nothing. Just can't seem to keep my eyes off you these days."

"What a line." Too bad my smile gives away how much I fell for it.

"Do you remember the county fair last summer?"

"Of course." The county fair is by far the most exciting thing that happens out here. "What about it?"

"That was the week Chelsea broke up with me. I was b.u.mmed and my friends dragged me to the fair so I could see that she wasn't the only girl out there." He puts his hand over his face. "I felt so lame that day. We were sitting in front of the band with some girls they'd dragged over. I wanted to be anywhere else. I would have taken the pigsty at that point . . . and then I saw you."

I startle. "Me?"

"Yeah. You were with Gwen and Kat, sitting on the gra.s.s eating ice cream and laughing. You flipped your sandals off and leaned back on a tree trunk, like you were completely comfortable and content."

I blush all the way to my ears. "I didn't realize you saw that."

"Well, you seemed way cooler than the people I was hanging out with. There was something different about you. I wanted to go over and say hi, but I couldn't get myself to do it."

"Why not?"

"Because . . . I don't know." He sighs. "I knew who you were, but only barely. You looked gorgeous in that blue dress, kind of intimidating. I almost got up to talk to you a hundred times, but I guess I didn't want you to think I was on the rebound or something. After that I kept wussing out. Every art cla.s.s I planned to ask you on a date, and the words never came. Figured if I didn't do it before school ended I might never get the chance."

"You mean this entire school year you've been wanting to ask me out?"

"Basically." He winces. "Now you know, and I feel like a complete loser for telling you that story. Talk about stalking. This is the part where you ask me to drive you home and never speak to me again, huh."

I bite my lip, secretly thanking scary stalker man for getting me alone with Winn. "Well, you do have to take me home . . ." I scoot closer to him. "But I plan on talking to you a lot. You'll probably get sick of hearing my voice, especially since you gave me your number and everything. You really shouldn't have done that."

He smiles. That smile, oh, why does it make me go all melty? "I shouldn't have?"

"Nope. You're doomed now."

His hand comes over mine, and our fingers intertwine. "I think I'm gonna like being doomed."

"We'll see." I squeeze his fingers, bracing for a freak lightning shock from Nana or something. It doesn't come. "You really do have to take me home now, though."

"Guess I can live with that." He lets go to start the car, but then his hand is right back over mine. It feels so good, wiping away any chills I still had. Strange, how easy it is to lean my head on his shoulder when earlier tonight it seemed impossible.

But when he slows to a stop outside my house, I want to shrivel up and die. Nana stands on the porch, waiting to kill me.

"She doesn't look happy," Winn says.

"If I don't call you tomorrow, come looking." I reluctantly let go. "Good night."

"Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it." And with that, I open the car door and head to what may very well be my execution.

FIVE.

Nana doesn't say anything as we go inside. Or when I follow her to the kitchen. She pulls a chocolate pudding from the little fridge, grabs a spoon, and eats while staring me down.

I am in so much trouble.

Gulping down my fears, I say, "I a.s.sume you were watching, so you have to admit that I shouldn't have gone straight home. That guy could have followed, and then he would have known both entrances to our house."

She takes another spoonful.

I hate when she does this. It's worse than a lecture. Worse than punishment. My guilt is enough of a penalty. I lean my head on the counter. "Nana, I'm sorry. Really."

The pudding cup lets out a crumpled cry when she crushes it. "You need to tell me exactly what was said between you and that man."

I look up, surprised that she doesn't sound angry. The spying spell doesn't include sound unless you want to throw in bat ears, and those are pretty hard to come by so we save them for important things. "He asked if I was Carmina's daughter-"

"Did you say your name? Did he hear your name at all?"

"I'm sure he didn't." Then my stomach drops. "But I did say Winn's name. Is that bad?"

She sighs. "It's not good. You may have put him in serious danger-you know the power of names."

I suck in my tears and guilt. "I was so scared. I wasn't thinking straight. The man hardly said anything, but he carried . . . something. Shadows. Darkness. Anger. It kept oozing out of him. Not sure what it was, except it was bad."

She nods. "I could see it."

"What was it?" I reach out for her hand. "What is going on? I think I have a right to know. It's after me, isn't it?"

Nana is not exactly the kind of grandma who looks young, but with one sigh she ages another few decades. "I hoped this day would not come. Carmina and I worked so hard to prevent this from happening. But those shadows found him-and since his intentions toward us are good, he is not repelled by our barriers."

"Who is he?"

Her look is flat. "Surely you know, Josephine. Separate him from the darkness, and you will see."

I do as she says, picturing the man with as much detail as possible. He has dark hair and light eyes, but I can't remember the exact color. He is tall and lean, and his skin, while tan, has traces of freckles. I gasp. Mom never had a single one, and who else would care so much about finding my mother? He seemed familiar to me because . . . "He's my father?"

She nods. "Joseph Johnson."

I can't seem to find air. This is a day I never thought about because witches simply do not know their fathers. We don't do families like that. We have relations.h.i.+ps, but they never result in commitment. We only have girls-girls who possess our bloodline and power. It is the mother, grandmother, daughter, sister bonds that make up our families.

Romantic love never ends well for us, though we need it like anyone else. The men we choose to be with are always in danger of becoming p.a.w.ns, leverage. Which must be my father's case, because knowing who he is makes me want to protect him. Nana doesn't have to say anything for me to know what's going on. Someone is using him to get to us. Someone cruel and consumed with darkness.

"Carmina loved him very much," Nana says. I can feel the sorrow in her voice, the pain of losing her daughter and her daughter losing the man she loved. "She wanted so badly to stay with Joseph, and she took many risks to be with him as long as she was. But when she found out she was pregnant, she knew she had to protect you and him. She disappeared from his life and came home, though I don't think she ever got over it."

"He never knew where she went?" I ask.

She heads for the apothecary, and I follow. "Oh, he tried to find her. We did many things to ensure that he couldn't, since any knowledge he had would only hurt him. When she was Cursed, we put more barriers around him, for fear that he would be used as he is now. It seems our hunters finally found a way through."

"If only we knew who they were." There are other witch bloodlines. Some friendly. Others not so much. The Curse must have come from someone's magic, but no one will own up to it. Those who go looking for answers end up dead. All we can do is what we've done for centuries: Run. Hide. Hope it doesn't find us again.

"If only, yes. The shadows around Joseph are similar to your mother's Curse. I fear they have finally come for us, Josephine." She grabs the jar of spiders she made me collect. Spiders, which crawl and sneak and kill. What she plans to do with them, I'm not sure yet. "But if we are very careful, we may be able to free him. And if we are very lucky, we could discover your mother's killer as well."

My eyes go wide. "Are you saying we might be able to avenge Mom's death?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." She grabs a bag of crow ashes and heads for her desk. Crow and spider-this spell must be something with bite. "Of course, it was safer to hide before, since making sure you came of age was far more important than vengeance. But if they're knocking at our door, they will have h.e.l.l to pay for what they've done to us."