“Hadley,” he warned. I could tell he was starting to get annoyed, but I was sick of constantly having this same conversation.
“I just think it’s sort of a waste of time,” I said, raising my eyes to his. “It’s not like anyone’s seen or heard from the Parrishables in like forever, right? I’ve read enough of Magic Through the Ages to know that. I think we’ve all got better things to do than gear up for a battle that isn’t likely to happen.”
“And if it did, what then?” Jackson asked slowly. “What if the Parrishables were to come back and try to finish what they started?” A dangerous tone had crept into his voice. I was always pushing the boundaries with him. Usually I knew when to stop before I took things too far. Right now, though, I was teetering on the edge—and wasn’t ready to stop.
“In that case, shouldn’t the question be, why are we sitting around waiting for them to come after us?”
Chapter Three
“Please tell me you didn’t say that, Had,” my mom said as she put a plate down in front of me. “Jackson’s an elder and deserves your respect. He could mean the difference between your tapping in to your heritage or letting your craft fizzle out. And besides, what he’s teaching you could actually save your butt one day.”
We were sitting at the kitchen table, a pepperoni-and-onion pizza between us, the cheese hot and gooey. I’d been so fired up about what had happened at the meeting that I’d made the mistake of participating in some mother/daughter share time before dinner. You’d think I’d have learned by now: when in doubt, fill your mouth with cheese so you can’t get yourself into trouble with your mom.
“But, Mom, he asked me a question and all I did was answer. I wasn’t being disrespectful… I was just being honest,” I said between bites. “And isn’t it you who always says that honesty’s the best policy?”
Mom tilted her head at me, not at all amused with my ability to argue about anything. In this case, however, I didn’t have the power to convince her to see things my way. I wasn’t sure if it was the familial lineage or that her magical skills were simply stronger than mine, but what usually worked to my advantage on others fell flat whenever she was around. It was a minor setback that I was constantly working to rectify. In the meantime, it was just plain annoying.
“Hadley Anne Bishop, you know that’s not what I meant. Yes, you should tell the truth, but not if it means being rude,” she said. “I’ve seen you around your friends and classmates and you’d never talk to them that way. If one of your friends was having a bad hair day, you wouldn’t say they looked like they’d been hit with the ugly stick, would you?”
“There’s an ugly stick?” I asked, suddenly interested in where this conversation was going.
Mom’s eyebrows knit together in frustration. My face fell as I realized there was no magic wand out there that granted or took away beauty.
But what if there were…
“Don’t even think about it, Hadley,” she warned. My mouth dropped open, a piece of pepperoni falling to my plate. She’d managed to read my mind again.
I have to stop letting her sneak in like that.
“I don’t understand why you’re so amicable with your friends, but when it comes to the rest of us—your family and coven—you’re so… combative.”
“I’m not combative,” I mumbled. But I knew it was true. For some reason when it came to other witches, I simply didn’t hold back. Why was that? Maybe because they knew all my secrets? There was definitely something a little scary about someone really knowing you. And the truth was, the kids at school—even my good girlfriends—didn’t really know me. Well, not the whole me, at least.
“Case in point,” my mom said. “And in this case, you’re wrong.”
“I’m just thinking rationally. Look, Mom, you know I don’t believe in this whole prepare-to-die, epic good-versus-evil battle stuff. I know you and Dad and the other elders want me to think the same way as you, but I’m sorry, I just don’t. I stopped believing in the boogeyman a long time ago, and as far as I’m concerned, the Parrishables are just one big boogeyman. They don’t exist. And until I have proof that they do, I’d rather be worrying about something else,” I said.
My mom closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. “For a girl who’s usually so smart, you’re incredibly naive sometimes, Hadley,” she said.
The comment caught me by surprise and my blood began to boil with anger.
“I’m not the naive one here. You are,” I spat. “Look, I agree that what the Parrishables did to our family and others over the past three hundred years sucks. At one point, they were a real threat, and if I’d been alive back then I would have taken them all out. But living our lives always looking over our shoulders when there’s not even any proof they’re still a threat? I just think there are better things I could be doing with my time. Things that actually matter.”
“And you don’t think that what Bridget Bishop went through matters?” she asked, her voice raising an octave.
“Of course it matters,” I answered, thinking about the dream I’d had the night before, and the feeling of the rope around Bridget’s neck. I swallowed hard to clear the lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “But that was then and this is now. And news flash: we’re alive now. I believe in living my life to the fullest instead of focusing on the maybes and the what-ifs.”
My mom paused and looked at me suspiciously.
“You’ve been dreaming about her again, haven’t you?” she asked me. “That’s not good, Hadley.”
“Geez, Mom! Get out of my head!” I growled, and started to stomp out of the room in frustration. I was halfway to the door before I whirled around on my red heels and stared hard at her, feeling slightly unhinged. “If you guys want to live in fear, be my guest. But don’t drag me down with you. As far as I’m concerned, you guys are just as crazy as the Parrishables were.”
I heard my mom gasp at the words, but I was already turning and heading out the door.
I was having a really great dream. A great dream about a boy. No, not a boy; he was an almost-man. I think he was in college or something. But those details didn’t really matter. What mattered was that he was hot. Way hotter than that kid in those Twilight movies (and my dream guy was definitely not a vampire; although I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have stopped him if he’d tried to bite me). And he was into me, too.
In the dream, my dark-haired hottie was walking through a crowd of people, his eyes trained on me. I could tell he wanted me by the fact that he wasn’t even looking at any of the other girls he was passing by. At one point, he even walked by Trish, and I could see the disappointment on her face as he ignored her. Not that I was happy that she felt bad… it’s just nice when your dream crush actually goes for you instead of your friends.
So, Dreamy McYummykins was making his way toward me, and even though in the back of my mind I knew he was a stranger, I was oddly drawn to him. I also knew with absolute certainty that he was going to kiss me.
And I was going to let him.
I lightly licked my lips in anticipation and prepared for him to take me in his arms and…
“Hadley, let’s get to it,” he said, placing his hands firmly on my arm.
“Huh?” I asked, confused. I’d been ready to kiss the guy, but a line like that was the last thing I’d expected to come out of his mouth.
Then he started to shake me, lightly at first, and more firmly when I didn’t do what he said.