“Yeah.” It was in third grade, during the worst of my awkward period. For some reason, my baby teeth stuck around forever, and I’d just lost my first front tooth. So I had this awful poofy hair, a face full of freckles, and a hillbilly gap. Most everyone called me Billy Jo.
Kat was a skeleton back then. Still is. The girl can take down a large pizza on her own, and nobody knows where it goes. Colby kept poking her where her spine stuck out when she hunched over. I don’t remember what I said to him, but I do remember it was the first time I cursed someone on my own.
I gave up seeing color for a week; he had the runs for a week.
“I learned something that day,” Kat says. “Let’s face it: Everyone made fun of you, and you know what? I never thought to stand up for you. I don’t think Gwen did either. We consoled you after, but we let it happen. And then you . . .” She looks down, seeming ashamed. “You stood up for me. You taught me how friends were supposed to act. So stop freaking out and let me be there for you, too.”
I sigh. “Fine.”
Nana tousles Kat’s short, dark hair. “You darling girl. How come you never bring your friends over, Josephine? They’re wonderful.”
“Uh, the witch thing?”
“Oh, right.” She goes back to her spell book, now propped on a stand. “Ash of the shepherd dog and golden eagle’s tears.”
It’s a very short reagent list, but eagle tears aren’t easy to get ahold of. Nana goes to the special cabinet behind her desk—the one with the most valuable and rare items. Then she grabs a bottle of ash from the shelves. She pours a little mound of the ash in the copper bowl, then drips four tears on top. As she holds her hand over the mixture, it liquefies into a silvery pool.
“The flesh to be protected,” she whispers.
Before I think too much, I’m cutting at my forearm. It definitely doesn’t feel good, but I try not to be a baby about it because it’s much easier than Kat’s part. Once I have the chunk, I place it in the bowl and it foams. Grabbing a bandage, I wait for the next part in a fit of nausea.
“The shield to protect.” Nana eyes Kat. “Do it quickly. Hesitation will only make it hurt more.”
Kat sucks in a breath, her tiny frame stretched as tall as it can go. She removes the ice from her left pinkie finger and clamps the pliers down. She closes her eyes. Her muscles flex.
That’s when I look away.
She screams once, and it’s cut short by a gasp of agony. Regardless of being cold and numb, it probably still hurt like hell. I look back just in time to see her place the nail in the bowl. Her finger gushes blood, and her hands tremble as she grasps the bandages. Her strained breathing fills the silence as we watch the liquid turn gold.
Nana holds up the bowl. “Drink, and become bound.”
I take the bowl and drink. “Huh, tastes like honeysuckle.”
“Really?” Kat says.
“Yeah. Go figure.”
She takes the bowl from me and sips. “Not bad.”
We freeze at the same time, so I figure she feels what I’m feeling. A warm sensation, like sunbathed grass, tickles at my legs. It fills in every piece of me, bit by bit, and by the time it gets to my head I’m keenly aware of Kat’s well-being. Her finger kills, but other than that she’s . . . happy. Definitely not in any danger.
She gasps. “Wow, it’s like ultra-sensitive intuition.”
“Yes.” Nana shuts the book. “Almost as strong as blood.”
I watch her, and all my instincts scream that she’s hiding something. Honestly, I don’t want to ask. Not now. There’s been enough trauma today. Which means, of course . . .
“Time for some pudding!”
ELEVEN
My father sleeps almost all of the next few days, and we let him, though there is so much we need ask. He’s so weak, and I feel bad pushing him more than necessary. Nana says it’s okay, since our hunters can’t see us anymore.
But this evening, Kat and I help my dad downstairs, and we spend all of dinner talking about magic. They have lots of silly questions like “Why don’t you teleport everywhere?” or “Can’t you conjure your food?” Most of which can be answered in one way: sometimes the payment isn’t worth it. If I teleported everywhere, I’d be freaking bald. We use magic when the benefit outweighs the payment, when it’s necessary, and, of course, when others pay us to help them out at their own risk.
“So all of Willow’s End has a magical barrier over it?” Kat seems to be having a hard time wrapping her mind around it. “How? What does it do?”
“It warns us if there are any threats to us,” I say as I clear plates from the table. “If someone who intends to harm us tries to get in, it blocks them. The head of house is tied to the spell, so she can sense any attempts to breech it.”
Nana nods. “Our home works much the same way, but the spells are even stronger. No one can step foot on our land without our permission, if they can find it in the first place. Only the truly desperate can be led here without effort, which is probably why Joseph didn’t have any trouble finding the address.”
“I was pretty desperate,” he admits.
After we clean up, Nana pulls out her best pudding for Joseph—pistachio, butterscotch, chocolate peanut butter, devil’s food. She orders it through the mail, and every month we get a big box of exotic flavors.
“Isn’t that one divine?” Nana sits next to him, seeming way too happy that he’s here.
He nods. “I had no idea pudding could be more than a second-rate dessert.”
She slaps his arm. “Bite your tongue, young man.”
“This is so strange.” He searches for his water glass, and I push it into his hand. “Thanks. It’s frightening how much of Carmina I can hear in your voices. I’d always thought she didn’t get along with her family, since she refused to introduce me. Never would have guessed it was against the rules.”
“Not against the rules, necessarily,” Nana says. “You could say it is . . . distasteful. Most of us consider it selfish to risk the lives of those we love. Carmina even considered erasing your memories to protect you, but there were simply too many.”
“No offense, but that’s a load of crap.” He takes a long drink while we stare at him. I’m not sure if I’m offended. At times I totally agree. “If you want to protect something, you keep it close. You don’t push it away and hope nothing will happen. I could have been here for her, maybe not as protection, but as support. And it seems like this house is impenetrable, if whatever was in me can’t enter.”
“It’s probably good you can’t see Nana’s face right now,” I say. She looks positively murderous. I didn’t even make the comment, and I’m cowering.
Nana finishes off her pudding, letting the silence work its dark power.
My phone decides this is the perfect opportunity to ring. I check the window and see it’s a text from Winn.
We really need to have an actual date.
I smile.
I’m game. Friday?
“Who’s that?” my dad asks, since Nana is still fuming.
“Umm . . .” So it turns out no matter how much you know your dad, it’s hard to announce that you are in a relationship.
Definitely, Winn replies.
“It was probably Winn, the boy she’s dating,” Kat says for me.
His eyes widen. “Oh.”
“Back to the matter at hand.” Nana puts her fingers together, as if she’s plotting. “There was a time I would have made you blind for good if you said such things.”
My jaw drops. “But—”
She holds up her hand to silence me. “Joseph, now that we’ve made you welcome and you’ve healed some, we must discuss the evil that sent you here. I need to ask why you decided after all this time to come here. Every detail you can recall could be important.”