Blood Witch_ Book Three - Cate Tiernan [3]
Snow had started to fall, and now it brushed against the windshield, not sticking anywhere. It would be gone by morning. I couldn’t wait to get home, to run upstairs to my room and start reading. For some reason, my thoughts turned to Sky Eventide and Hunter Niall. I had instantly disliked both of them: their piercing gazes, their snotty English accents, the way they looked at Cal and at me.
But why? Who were they? Why did they seem so important? I’d seen Sky only once before, in the cemetery a few days ago. And Hunter—Hunter upset me in a way I couldn’t explain. I was still thinking about it when Cal pulled into my driveway and switched off the engine.
“Are your folks home?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Are you okay? Do you want me to come in?”
“That’s all right,” I said, appreciating his offer. “I think I’ll just hole up and read.”
“Okay. Listen, I’ll be home all night. Just call me if you want to talk.”
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for him.
He came into my arms, and we kissed for a few moments. The sweetness momentarily washed away any confusion and uncertainty I was feeling about my encounter with Selene. Finally, reluctantly, I untangled myself and opened the car door.
“Thanks,” I said again. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay. Take care.” He gave me a smile and didn’t leave until I was inside.
“Hi!” I called. “I’m home.”
My parents were watching a movie in the family room. “You’re early,” said Mom, looking at the clock.
I shrugged. “We missed the movie,” I explained. “And I just decided to come home. Well, I’ll be upstairs.” I fled up to my room, ditched my coat, and flopped down on my bed. Then I pulled out a Scientific American magazine and got it ready in case I suddenly needed to cover the Book of Shadows. My parents and I had reached an uneasy truce—about Wicca, about my birth mother, about all the deception. It was best not to disturb that. I didn’t want to have to explain anything painful to them.
Maeve Riordan’s own words, I thought.
My hands trembling, I opened my mother’s Book of Shadows and began to read.
2
Picketts Road
Saturday morning I didn’t exactly leap out of bed. I’d been up until the wee hours, reading Maeve’s Book of Shadows. She’d started it when she was fourteen years old. So far, I couldn’t figure out what Selene meant about finding out something upsetting. Aside from unpronounceable Gaelic words and lots of spells and recipes, I hadn’t found anything really disturbing or strange. I knew that Maeve Riordan and Angus Bramson, my birth parents, were burned to death after they came to America. I just didn’t know why. Maybe this book would explain it somehow. But I was reading slowly. I wanted to savor every word.
When I finally woke up and groped my way downstairs, my eyes were slits. I stumbled toward the refrigerator for a Diet Coke.
I was working on a couple of Pop-Tarts when Mom and Mary K. breezed in, having taken a brisk mother-daughter walk in the chill November air.
“Wow!” said Mom, her nose pink. She clapped her gloved hands. “It’s nippy outside!” She came over and gave me a kiss, and I flinched as her icy hair brushed against my face.
“It’s pretty, though,” Mary K. added. “The snow is just starting to melt, and all the squirrels and birds are on the ground, looking for something to eat.”
I rolled my eyes. Some people are just too cheerful in the morning. It isn’t natural.
“Speaking of something to eat,” Mom said, taking off her gloves and sitting down across from me, “can you two hit the grocery store this morning? I’m showing a house at ten-thirty, and we’re out of almost everything.”
Mentally I reviewed my blank calendar. “Sure,” I said. “Got a list?”
Mom plucked it off the fridge and started adding items to it. Mary K. put the last bagel in the toaster. The phone rang, and she whirled to get it.
Cal, I thought, my heart picking up a beat. Happiness washed over me.
“Hello?” answered Mary K., sounding perky and breathless at the same time. “Oh, hi. Yeah, she’s here. Just a sec.”
She