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about a decibel in volume.

“NO!” I scrambled from the bed and stood right in front of the door, so close I could see the veins in the wood and screamed at her as loud as I could. “NEVER! I HATE YOU! I WISH YOU WEREN’T MY MOTHER!”

The tears started, mine and probably hers, but I sobbed too hard to care about her at all. I threw myself back onto the bed and poured my heart out onto my pillow. How could she? How could Dad? Wasn’t it bad enough they made me this way? Did they have to try to sell my body and soul too? I sobbed harder, heart absolutely broken. My mother, my own mother tried to further her own power by making me marry for magic. I was sixteen for crying out loud. What were they thinking?

I was so out of there, she had no idea.

I lurched to my feet and started cramming clothes into two backpacks before I even knew I decided to leave. It floored me, took me totally by surprise, so much so I collapsed on the carpet, tears forgotten. Was I really willing to go to that extreme? To run away from my family and never come back? To be honest, until now the thought never really crossed my mind. Where would I go? I had nowhere to go. No money, no means of making any, at least that I even considered engaging in. What was I thinking?

I kicked the closest bag hard and climbed back onto my bed, miserable and unable to hold the tears back any longer. These were silent ones, though, in some ways better than the sobbing and in some ways worse.

I felt the soft touch of Sassy’s particular brand of magic and, despite the rules of its use, the lock on my door eased open. I heard the subtle creak of the old hinges and the pad of little cat feet. Sass jumped up beside me rubbing his soft body against my face, rough tongue licking at the tears that simply would not stop. I took him in my arms and hugged him and for once he didn’t fight me. He lay there, purring, surrounding me with his touch.

“Oh Sass,” I cried, “how could she?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he answered, voice very quiet. “In all my years, I’ve never… I’m with you on this one, Syd. All the way. It was inexcusable. You are a Hayle witch, not some common magicker to be bought and sold for power.”

I snuffled. The tip of his tail started to twitch. I knew he wasn’t mad at me.

“What am I going to do?” I whispered.

“I don’t suggest your first course of action,” he said, eyes drifting to the two messy backpacks before flickering back to me. I shook my head.

“Already gave up on that one, Sass. Stupid idea.”

“We agree again, it’s a miracle.” He winked his slow cat wink at me. I smiled through my easing tears. Nice to have an ally, even if he was a twenty-pound fur ball.

“I can’t stand it,” I said. “How can I possibly face the family? And don’t try to tell me they don’t know. They must by now.”

Sass licked my cheek. “As much as I disagree with her methods, Miriam was only trying to find a way to link you to the rest of us. There are things happening outside your knowledge. Your mother is doing her best to protect the coven.”

I hated Sass when he was cryptic. “From what?”

He shifted his sleek cat shoulders, thick fur rippling. “Perhaps you should ask your mother.”

Not very damned likely.

Sassafras fixed his golden eyes on me, pupils narrowing. “She’s right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Quaid Moromond is a very powerful witch from a long line of powerful witches. He will make a good addition.”

“Sass!” I protested.

“As a member,” he reassured me. “A duly tested and accepted member.”

“I want them to go away,” I whispered, feeling very small and very young.

“I wish I could tell you that’s going to happen,” Sass answered. “But I think you’re out of luck there, Syd.”

“Why?” I challenged him. “There are more than enough covens out there for them to hitch themselves to.”

“Batsheva was a member once,” he told me. “She and your mother were best friends. Miriam was devastated when Batsheva married outside the family. So when their coven recently broke up, leaving them free to apply to other groups, Miriam wanted her back in the fold.” Clearly he disagreed with my mother’s decision.

“Do you think she really meant it?” I wanted some glimmer, some hope my mother had my best interest at heart. Sass could only shrug.

“Regardless, she’s regretting bringing it up, now.”

“She is?” I wiped at some tears with the corner of my quilt. “Are you sure?”

Sass rested his chin on his paws.

“Definitely. You didn’t see the look on her face, Syd. She’s feeling terrible. To be honest, I think maybe this was an old agreement that came back to bite her in the ass.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I felt a little better, tears drying up. At least she suffered too.

“Batsheva left when your mother took over as leader,” he said. “I always thought Miriam tried too hard with that woman,” Sassy was never one to hide his opinions. “But it was never enough. So, Batsheva joined Dominic’s coven in the Midwest. We haven’t seen her since.” Obviously he thought the Moromonds should go back to where they came from.

“So what’s all this stuff about me marrying their son?” I would not say his name.

Sass sniffed. “I know your mother has tried out of the goodness of her heart to stay in contact. I think Batsheva must have decided when you and Quaid were babies that you would be a perfect match for each other someday. Your mother must have agreed to mend fences. I’m not even sure Miriam remembered it until Batsheva brought it up.”

I had a suspicion Sass was totally making this up just so I’d feel better. I knew it but kept quiet. Who knew for sure? Maybe Mom didn’t remember before today, but the ringing of the doorbell definitely brought it all back. I rolled over and closed my eyes, taking in some deep breaths to calm myself. Sass climbed onto my chest and curled up. I started petting him as his rumbling purr echoed through my body.

A soft little hand slipped into mine. Before I even knew she was there, Meira climbed up to lie beside me, her head on my shoulder. I could tell she had been crying, her sweet face scrunched up with anger.

“I hate her,” she hissed.

I slipped my free arm under her shoulders and hugged her. Weird how it took my impending marriage for Meira to forget she was mad at me.

“No, Meira,” I said. “It’s okay. No matter what, I’m doing what I want to do.”

She sobbed once into my shirt. “I don’t want you to go away!” She wailed.

“Me either,” I said. “And I don’t think it’s going to come to that.”

She sat up and pointed accusingly at the backpacks. I was really going to have to do something about those before anyone else saw them.

“I’m not leaving, I promise,” I told her.

“Ever?” She snuffled.

“Meems,” I did my best big sister.

She played with my belt.

“If you go,” she whispered, “take me with you.”

“You love the coven,” I said.

“I love you more,” she blinked her huge demon eyes at me. “Don’t leave me here alone, Syd.”

I pulled her down beside me and hugged her again. I happened to glance over at Sass who studied me with his lidded cat eyes. I glared back as I spoke to Meira.

“No one is going anywhere, except, hopefully the Moromonds.”

No luck there.

A knock on the door and Erica stepped into my room. She tried a smile but there was too much sympathy in her face. Less smile, more crooked grimace.

“Meeting,” she said. “Can you join us downstairs, please?”

I sat up. Sass hopped off as Meira and I stood. Erica opened her mouth as though she wanted to say something. Her eyes fell on the stuffed bags and she faltered.

“It’s not what you think.” I was getting tired of saying that. And of the hurt looks from the people I cared about when they assumed the worst.

“I’m sure it’s not.” Erica stepped inside and closed the door. “Syd, you know your mother loves you and would never do anything to hurt you.”

Why did I grow up in a family where it was impossible to insist anyone mind their own business? “Yes, Erica,” I said.

She kissed me softly on the cheek, running her thumb over where her lips touched. Great. Lipstick. “We all love you.” She glanced at the bags again. “And would miss you if you left us.”

That was Erica, the queen of subtle. Her eyes shone with sincerity though and I knew she meant it. As much as she liked to mother me, I guess I’d miss it if she decided to stop.

I hugged her on impulse. “Thanks,” I said. “Mom Two.”

She giggled and pulled away. “Brat. Downstairs. And please don’t let your mother see those.”

She left without another word.

I squared my shoulders. I refused to let this rule me. No one could force me to do anything. If it came down to it, I knew some people in a few other covens, so I had alternatives. The tears dried up. The embarrassment lingered, but I’d get over it. Who cared what they thought, anyway? Two more years. Two more. I could do it.

I dodged into the bathroom for a second to check my face. Just as I thought, disaster. The red blotchiness I lived with after every bout of crying rose to the occasion. In fact, joy of joys, it spread to my neck and upper chest as well.

I dabbed at some mascara stains and tried to forget about it.

Meira still waited for me. It surprised me Sass did too. When he followed us to the top of the stairs, I had to ask.

“Joining us?” My witchy senses vibrated. Sass never intruded on meetings.

“Curious,” he answered cryptically. He swayed his way down the stairs ahead of us and whisked around the corner, tail twitching. Meira’s hand found mine. We went together.

I tried to avoid the others making their way from the kitchen to the basement. My face felt flushed. I knew they could see the humiliation rising from me in waves. It took all the courage I had to go down the stairs. The weight of their judgments pushed against me. I was in no mood to talk to anyone. I simply took my place in the circle and waited.

Mom stood silently as I slipped in beside her. Her fingers reached out and slid over the back of my hand. I turned my head a little, catching her gaze. The naked grief there erased the last of my anger. Of course my mother hadn’t tried to sell me off. What the hell was wrong with me? I was overreacting to everything lately. Geez, Syd, get a grip.

I held her fingers in mine, and some of the pain eased. I squeezed her fingers.

“You owe me a batch of cookies,” I whispered.

Her eyes widened before she leaned and kissed my cheek.

“I owe you a lot more than that,” she said.

Everyone gathered around, waiting on us. I shrugged in answer and smiled at her. I spotted the Moromonds on the other side of the altar. My stomach flipped over. I knew without a doubt what that meant.

Mom stepped forward to confirm it.

“My friends,” she said, “my family, I am thrilled to reunite us with Batsheva Andreas, now Moromond, who has at last come home to the coven. We have reviewed the submission of Dominic Moromond and, by her honor, their son, Quaid.”

The three stepped forward. I tried not to watch, doing everything I could to avoid the smirk I knew was plastered on Quaid’s face. Maybe he wasn’t really so hot after all.

“It is with the
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