Blood Witch_ Book Three - Cate Tiernan [22]
I smiled awkwardly in the front hall. I hadn’t seen her since I had demanded to know why she hadn’t told me I was adopted, at a family dinner two weeks ago. I felt a little embarrassed to see her again, but I was sure Mom had been talking to her, keeping her up-to-date with everything.
“Hi, Aunt Eileen,” I said. “I . . . uh, I’m sorry about making a scene last time. You know.”
As if to answer, she swept me up in a tight hug. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she whispered. “I understand. I don’t blame you a bit.”
We pulled back and smiled at each other for a moment. I knew Aunt Eileen would make everything okay again. Then she glanced down and gasped, pointing urgently to my dad’s La-Z-Boy, where a small gray butt and tail were sticking out from under the skirt.
I laughed and scooped Dagda out.
“This is Dagda,” I said, rubbing him behind his ears. “He’s my new cat.”
“Oh, my goodness,” said Eileen, stroking his head. “I’m sorry. I thought he was a rat.”
“You should know better,” I joked, putting him back on the chair. “You date a vet.”
Aunt Eileen laughed, too. “I know, I know.”
Soon afterward Paula arrived, her sandy hair windblown, her nose pink with cold.
“Hey,” I greeted her. “Is the Chihuahua okay?”
“Fine, and the proud mom of two pups,” she said, giving me a hug. “Oh! What a beautiful kitten!” she said, spotting Dagda on Dad’s chair.
I beamed. Finally! Somebody who knew what a treasure Dagda was. I’d always liked Aunt Eileen’s new girlfriend, but now it struck me that they were a perfect match. Maybe Paula was even Eileen’s mùirn beatha dàn.
Thinking about it brought a smile to my face. Everybody deserved somebody. Not everyone was as lucky as I was, of course. I had Cal.
9
Trust
“I hope you know that you can’t trust Bakker,” I said to Mary K. the next morning. I tried not to sound snotty, but it came out that way anyhow.
Mary K. didn’t answer. She just looked out her car window. Frost covered everything in lacy, powdered-sugar patterns.
I drove slowly, trying to avoid the hard patches of black ice where the newly plowed roads had puddled and frozen. My breath came out in a mist inside Das Boot.
“I know he’s really sorry,” I went on, in spite of my sister’s stiff face. “And I believe he really cares about you. But I just don’t trust his temper.”
“Then don’t go out with him,” Mary K. muttered.
Alarm bells went off in my brain. I was criticizing him, and she was defending him. I was doing what I feared: pushing them closer together. I took a deep breath. Goddess, guide me, I said silently.
“You know,” I said finally, several blocks from school. “I bet you’re right. I bet it was just a onetime thing. But you guys have talked, right?” I didn’t wait for an answer. “And he is really sorry. I guess it will never happen again.”
Mary K. looked over at me suspiciously, but I kept my face neutral and my eyes on the road.
“He is sorry,” my sister said. “He feels terrible about it. He never meant to hurt me. And now he knows he has to listen to me.”
I nodded. “I know he cares about you.”
“He does,” said Mary K.
She looked transparently self-assured. Inside, my heart throbbed. I hated this. Maybe everything I had just said was true. But I couldn’t help fearing that Bakker would try again to force Mary K. into doing something she didn’t want to do.
If he did, I would make him pay.
I got to school early enough to see Cal before the bell rang. He was waiting for me by the east entrance, where our coven gathered during better weather.
“Hey,” he said, kissing me. “Come on, we found a new place to hang out. It’s warmer.”
Inside, we passed the steps leading to the second floor and turned a corner. There another set of steps led down to the building’s cellar. No one was supposed to go down here except the janitors. But Robbie, Ethan, Sharon, and Jenna were sitting on the steps, talking and laughing.
“Morganita,” Robbie said, using a nickname he had given me in fifth grade. I hadn’t heard it for years, and I smiled.
“We were just talking