Legacy Of Magick (Legacy Of Magick Series, Book 1) (22 page)

“Well,” he patted my foot. “When you are ready to talk, I think you’ll find that we have a lot in common.”

He had a point. I never even heard Bran, or the girls, talk about his father. I knew that he and the twins had different fathers, because I’d overheard the girls talking about going to spend Thanksgiving with their dad. Maybe I needed to find the family tree sometime and make a long thorough study of its branches.

Ivy poked her head into my room. “Good, you’re awake!” She made a run for it and then dove on the bed to lie next to me. I barely saved what was left of my tea. Bran smoothly took the mug as Ivy snuggled in and laid her head on my shoulder. “Do you feel better now?”

“Anybody ever talk to you about personal space, Ivy?” I grouched at her, and tried to get her off of me.

“Sure. But sometimes even a hard-ass needs a snuggle.” She laughed up at me and wrapped her arm around my waist.

“You think I’m a hard ass?” That was a surprise. “I’ve almost fainted a couple of times now, and I have passed out. That’s a wimp — not a hard ass.” I pointed out.

“You stood up to old man Drake, and fought back when he spelled you.” Ivy ticked off her points on her fingers. “You talk to, and are not afraid of ghosts. You have only started to learn magick, and you’re good at it!”

I looked down at her where she curled up against me. “I don’t feel like a hard ass.” I told her quietly.

Ivy seemed to think that over. “Maybe you need to see you, how I see you.”

I couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. Now that she was right in my face, I noticed that our eyes were the exact same shade of green. If her hair wasn’t such an improbable midnight shade, we’d look more like sisters instead of cousins. I looked at Bran and his green gaze was regarding the two of us steadily. I
did
have family. The proof was hugging me, and sitting watching over me. But I hadn’t accepted them as my family. Relatives of my father’s family, yes. But my family? Not really. Looking at two out of the four of them, I realized that I wasn’t as alone as I had thought.

Holly came into the room carrying a tray. I could smell soup, and my stomach growled hungrily.

“You should try and eat something.” Holly said and set the tray on my nightstand.

Ivy gave me a final squeeze, snatched a cracker from the tray, and then moved over. I took the bowl of soup and discovered it was my favorite, alphabet vegetable soup. I started on the soup, while Holly stood there wringing her hands.

“You got something to say, Blondie?” I asked my pretty cousin who stood nervously, her strawberry blonde curls backlit by the light in the hall.

“I wanted to apologize for spelling you this afternoon.” Holly said, clearly miserable.

I ate more of the soup, said nothing, and let her sweat it a little.

“See?” Ivy said to me with a gentle poke in the ribs. “You are a hard ass.”

“You were so tired, and unhappy.” Holly tried to explain. “I can’t stand to see anyone I love, that sad. I let my emotions rule my actions and—”

I cut her off. “Okay.”

Holly’s eyes went wide. “You aren’t mad at me?”

“I guess I’ll have to live with the fact that you are
not
perfect.” I said with a heavy sigh. Then added, straight faced. “You’ve shattered my illusions.”

Ivy snorted out a laugh, and even Bran grinned. Before Holly could say anything else I told her. “Holly, I can’t count the number of mistakes I have made in the past few weeks, trying to learn the Craft.”

“I was afraid that you would hate me.” Holly confessed.

“No. Of course I don’t hate you. You have personally taken better care of me than my own mother ever did.” I tried to say that firmly, but my voice wobbled at the end.

In response to my statement, Holly’s bottom lip quivered. With a sudden flash of insight, I had barely enough time to shove the soup bowl at Ivy before Holly launched herself at me. Merlin jumped clear, and Ivy managed not to spill the soup all over the bed, as I found myself with another cousin in my arms.

“You
do
have family, Autumn.” Holly whispered in my ear.

“Damn it, Blondie, do not make me cry again.” I muttered as tears spilled over. But these tears were healing tears, and I felt better for shedding them.

***    

Saturday morning, the day before the autumnal equinox, dawned cool and a little cloudy. I went quietly went downstairs, ready to leave for the first day of planting at Duncan’s rehabbed house. I checked my reflection in the big mirror in the foyer. I had put my hair in a high ponytail and then braided it, so the wind wouldn’t catch it, and to keep it from getting full of dirt. Over the last few nights, I had been sleeping better. I was able to actually get my contacts back in, and I was relieved that the big circles under my eyes had started to fade.

I had called Duncan Thursday night, after Holly had made me cry with a combination of vegetable soup, care, and well… love. I’d told Duncan everything that had happened with my mother, and he ended up coming over and sitting with me until very late at night. Gwen seemed cool about that. She only asked that if we were going to stay up in my room to talk, that we leave the bedroom door open.

So I talked, he listened, and we kissed and cuddled. Merlin hopped up on my bed and curled up at the foot and seemed to be our kitty chaperone. And I thought it was sweet that Duncan didn’t mind the lack of privacy at all.

I smiled thinking about it, grabbed my red hoodie off the rack by the front door, and checked to see if I had everything I would need for the day. I had loaded the shovels, rakes, and hoes in the back of my pickup the night before. I was revved up, feeling steadier, and looking forward to spending the whole day with him.

I gave Ivy a few more minutes to get her butt down the stairs; we needed to be on the site by 7:00 am. I heard her stomping as she came down, and I had to smile. Ivy wore her black tennis shoes, a pair of camouflage cargo shorts, and had an olive green hoodie slung over one arm. Her black t-shirt read, ‘You’re just jealous because the little voices talk to me!’ She topped it off with a black ball cap and her cat eye sunglasses. “Wow. You have sort of a Goth-Gardener look going this morning.” I told her.

She grinned at me. “Will I need my jacket?” She asked as she eyed my knee length khaki shorts.

“Early this morning you will, but we’ll be sweating before 9:00 am.” I predicted.

“Do we need to pack a lunch?” She asked.

“Relax.” I hefted an oversized backpack. “I tossed a sandwich in here for you.”

“Psychic.” Ivy teased me.

I grabbed my keys, put my cheap gardening sunglasses on, and then held open the front door. “Let’s move.”

An hour later, and Ivy and I were almost finished prepping the flower beds at the house. The bags of composted manure and mulch had been delivered the day before and had been stacked neatly on the driveway for us. I pulled a retractable blade utility knife out of my back pocket, and sliced open a bag of compost. I dumped it into the flower bed, and started to work the amendment in to the existing soil of the beds under the front windows of the rehabbed house.

True to her promise, Ivy hauled, dumped, and carted whatever I asked her to. We headed to the planting beds curved along the front stone path. I flipped a thirty pound bag of composted manure over my shoulder, and grinned as Ivy tried to pick up a heavy bag like it was a bag of groceries. I showed her how to carry the bag like I was, and she went staggering with the weight of the large bag over her shoulder. But the girl was game. She righted herself, stood straight, and flashed me a grin.

“No wonder you are strong.” She muttered, as she hauled the bag, when I flipped it neatly from my shoulder into the flower bed. Ivy frowned in concentration and tried that maneuver for herself. Her bag sort of slid down and landed on her foot.

I hefted the dropped bag and tossed it where we wanted it. “Stick with me kid; you’ll have guns by next spring.” I flexed my biceps, and Ivy burst out laughing.

A wolf whistle cut through the quiet morning, and Duncan pulled his fancy blue pickup into the bottom of the driveway. “Morning, gorgeous.” He called out.

“Hey.” Ivy and I said in unison.

Duncan walked directly to me, and I was barely able to pull my compost-smeared, gloved hands off to the side before he swooped in for a loud smacking kiss. “You look better.” He said studying my face.

I laughed a little, “I’m all dirty.”

“I don’t mind.” He said in a low, hungry voice, and moved in for another kiss. I had almost forgotten that we were standing in the middle of the front yard, when Ivy began to make loud gagging noises.

“Jeez you guys!” Ivy complained. “Don’t make me get the hose!”

We laughed. He tugged on my braided ponytail and surveyed the progress Ivy and I had already made. “What time do the plants arrive?” He asked.

“At nine.” I told him, and went to grab more compost. I bent my knees, hefted the bag, then stood in one motion and flipped the bag over my shoulder. I carried it across the yard and Duncan scrambled to take it from me. “What are you doing?” I held him off with a grubby hand. “I told you, I have worked landscaping for years. It’s a bag of composted manure. It’s only thirty five pounds.” I flipped that bag next to the previous one.

“Why don’t you use wheelbarrow?” He asked.

“Because there aren’t that many of them and I’m only carting them a short distance.”

As we spoke, Ivy staggered by determinedly with a bag of topsoil slung over her shoulder. This time she was able to flip the bag down where she wanted it. “Ha!” she pumped a fist in the air. “It
is
easier this way.”

I took out the utility knife again and made a large T shaped cut — one horizontal across the bottom of the bag and another vertically down the middle. Then, I grabbed the corners of the bag, and the compost slid out neatly. Ivy started to spread the compost out in a rhythm we had started on the first planting bed.

Duncan frowned at his phone at an incoming text then said, “The plants can be delivered now if you are ready for them.”

I straightened up and tossed another empty bag on the pile. “Sure. And if you want to help, I could always use extra hands when it comes to unloading the truck and setting the plants in place.”

“I’d like to have hand in planting up this yard. I do that sometimes.” Duncan admitted.

I looked at him over the top of my sunglasses. “I’ll get you some gloves.”

We spent a pleasant, and productive, morning setting the plants in place. Duncan seemed to be enjoying himself as we worked. By noon, I was smeared with even more soil and feeling content. The beds under the front windows were planted with a trio of compact weigela shrubs that would be covered in deep red blooms come late spring.

Ivy was kneeling on the curved garden path as she arranged perennials in the crescent moon shaped bed. She was wearing her iPod and singing along to Marilyn Manson. Duncan, who had decided he didn’t want to eat cold sandwiches, announced he was going to treat us to lunch, and had gone to pick it up. I moved to the little bed wedged in the corner by the outer sidewalk and the end of the driveway. Here, Duncan had built a sturdy post with wrought iron trim for the mailbox. I set a climbing dark purple clematis in place under it, where it would eventually ramble and climb over the top. I had a half dozen small pots of purple mums and a few bags of tulip bulbs to plant with it.

I snagged another bag of compost, worked it into the ground at the base of the mailbox post, and then took the shovel to mix the soil up. While I was mixing it up, I noticed a pair of designer shoes attached to a man who was standing there and watching. “Hello.” I lifted up my head. It wasn’t unusual for curious neighbors to come by and watch when a yard was planted.

But it wasn’t a friendly neighbor doing a looky lou. It was Julian Drake. He was dressed to the teeth, and stood there, sneering at me. My heart slammed to my ribs. I stopped and leaned on the handle of my shovel. “Hello Julian.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Don’t we look the filthy urchin?” He looked me up and down.

I moved back slightly so I could keep Ivy in my peripheral vision. She had her back to me and was singing away. I was a little alarmed that he had approached me this way. Especially after his father’s magickal stunt at the library. As I studied him, I got a flash of insight that he was counting on me being intimidated by him. Well too bad. I wasn’t quite the novice that I used to be.

“Landscaping is a dirty business.” I said complacently as he stared at me. “I don’t imagine a guy like you has ever broken a sweat doing manual labor in his life.”

“Of course not.” He replied and made a show of adjusting his silver cuff links on his shirt. He sounded insulted that I would even suggest such a thing.

“You should try it sometime. It’s very therapeutic.” I told him calmly. “I can show you how to plant mums if you like.”

At my invitation he stared at me as if I was a bit slow. I was right; he
had
expected to have an upper hand with me. Wanting to prepare in case he tried anything, I planted the shovel in the grass, knelt down, and made a show of tucking the tulip bulbs into the wedge shaped bed.

I’m sure to Julian it looked like I was ignoring him. But what I actually did was ground and center myself. I had learned a few things, after all, in the past marathon week of studying. Rule number one: ground your energy before you cast or work psychic protection. I pulled up energy from the earth as I knelt there, and I felt steadier for it. Then with my hands in the soil, I visualized a bright green energetic shield surrounding me. Once I felt the shield bloom into place, I felt better, stronger, and more confident.

“If you could spare me a moment of time, Earth Witch.” Julian said in an aggravated tone.

While part of me wondered at him calling me that, another part of me looked up at him, smiled cheerfully, and played dumb. “Sorry, I don’t have any spare time today.” I said, and very deliberately started to add the chrysanthemums to the little flower bed. The mums were healthy, strong, and were loaded with blooms waiting to open. To my surprise, I felt a little trickle of energy from the plants in my hands.
Thank you.
I thought at the flowers.