Witch's Bell Book One (32 page)

She was looking at him now how you
might look at the Earth from its surface, as opposed to looking at
it from space. The perspective showed the grooves in his skin, the
close shave of his chin, the slight slick of sweat against his
brow, and the keen look in his eyes.

For a witch that was meant to watch,
Ebony was starting to realize she was just learning how to truly
see.

Just as she pulled up a hand,
intending to reach out and touch that solid jaw, he reached out a
hand to her
– stroking the side of her cheek with the tips of his
fingers.

But then she heard the bell tinkle
from the front door.

“
Ebony!” she heard her father
shout from the front door, his voice brimming with that familiar
grouchy, but welcome, strength.

Ebony blinked quickly, as Nate
stood back, turning to the sound
– leaving her standing there
alone.

Heart in her mouth, she finally
responded.
“Uh, dad?”

She could hear him marching towards
her.

“
I rang your father,” she heard
Ben's voice filtering through from the front of the shop. His voice
was still strict, but it had that slightly overwhelmed edge, as if
he'd just realized he'd called the cavalry in for a street
scuff.

Calling her dad was like
fishing with gelignite. He'd try and mobilize the force, like a
general organizing his troops, in order to take the whole magical
world on
–
until he found, and arrested, whoever had attacked his
daughter.

Only problem was, he was retired.
Though he wouldn't see that as too much of a hindrance.

“
And I rang your mother,” her
father said, finally bursting out from around the side of a
bookshelf and rushing over to her.

He apparently ignored Nate, who
had shuffled further away from Ebony, and walked over to his
daughter shaking his head.
“This type of stuff would never have happened in
my day,” he sniffed. “Summoning in the streets – we would
have—”

“
Acted according to the Pact,” a
very clear voice said from behind Ebony.

Ebony turned slowly, like a pig on a
spit, to see her mother standing on the stairs above her. How or
when she'd gotten there, Ebony had no idea. Avery Bell was a witch
of the Coven, she had more magic and more mystery than Ebony dared
to imagine.

Her mother had her head cocked to the
side, a knowing look in her eye. Was that even a small smile
growing on her lips, as she flicked her gaze from Ebony to
Nate?

Ebony, despite herself, blushed. But
then she remembered the crux of the situation. She'd just been
magically mugged by a summoned creature, probably brought into
existence by incredibly strong evil. Even if Ebony hadn't been
currently magic-less, this would still have been an issue for
investigation.

But still, why was her mother here?
Why now? What, had she finally felt a little guilty that she'd
overreacted and sentenced Ebony to a punishment she really didn't
deserve?

Or was she here on behalf of
the Coven
–
here to get all the facts from Ebony in case the being that had
attacked her had been summoned by a witch. Even then, Ebony assured
herself, her mother would no doubt find some way of blaming it all
on Ebony.

Really, if Nate hadn't been there,
then who knows what would have happened to Ebony.

Her face became hot with the sudden
anger that flushed through her at the thought of her
life-threatening situation. She had no power to defend herself, not
because she was inherently weak, but because other people had
snatched it from her.

“
Is there something you want to
say to me, my little witch?” her mother said after a long moment of
looking at her daughter's face. “Or are you going to keep it
bottled inside?”

Chapter 14

Ebony's jaw set slowly, like water
dripping onto a glacier. Her mother was goading her into having a
fight, here and now.

“
Come on child, isn't there
something you want to say to me?” Avery Bell leaned against the
banister, her face angling down, her long, sleek black hair
slipping over her shoulders with a swoosh. She was in an elegant
blue, flowing robe, its cuffs and collar embroidered with various
symbols and runes. Her eyes glittered an inviting, but treacherous,
gold, and her skin glowed a faint blue.

“
Ah, darling,” Ebony's father
said from the base of the stairs, “maybe now isn't the
time.”

“
There isn't any other time,
only the time we have now,” her mother replied
cryptically.

“
Fine,” Ebony's lips smacked
together too loudly, as if she was making a verbal exclamation
mark. And her mother was absolutely right; there was no time like
the present. And while ordinary humans usually took that saying to
mean one should always seize the moment, to a witch it meant
something different. It literally meant that there was no time
other than what could be found at the present. Time wasn't
stretched between the past, present, and future, like some would
have you believe. Time never divided itself into sections, leaving
some behind or in front of it. It always stayed together, in one
whole piece, and always in the now. It was alike a moth, in that
fashion, always holding fast to the light of the moment.

There was only ever one time you could
do things, and that was now.

“
You're angry because you were
punished,” her mother blinked long, dark lashes, her eyes suddenly
changing to a shimmering green.

“
Angry? Why would I be angry?”
Ebony's cheeks were starting to grow hot and itchy, and gradually
she was becoming less and less aware of the three other men in the
room. For now it was just her and her mother. She lifted up both
her hands, showing off her shackles. “What kind of a punishment is
this?” she spat, words punctuated with emotion. “It doesn't match
what I did – and you know that.”

Her mother raised an eyebrow, cocked
her head to the side, and waited.

“
I did whatever I could to save
that woman,” Ebony bared her teeth. “I fought that guy off with all
I had. I saved that woman. And you punished me for revealing myself
to a human? I don't get it! It's just not fair! I did the best I
could—”

“
It is forbidden to openly admit
that you are a witch in the presence of a mundane,” her mother
automatically replied, as if she were reading an entry from the
rule book – which, in a way, she was. It was a fundamental tenet of
witch-law, after all.

Ebony just shook her head, her
cheeks and face now as hot and ruddy as a boiling tomato
sauce.
“There was something strange about that woman, really
strange,” she repeated, her voice high. “Has she been investigated?
Has she been looked into? Or have you just concentrated on
disproportionately punishing your own daughter for a crime you know
she didn't really commit?” Ebony's voice was getting louder and
louder.

“
And yet, the punishment
stands,” Avery leaned back, pulling herself into a ramrod straight,
but elegant position. “You can argue all you want, you can throw
around as many excuses as you can find. But you cannot change the
fact you were punished.”

“
Why?” Ebony's mouth formed
around the word, pushing it out with a great rush of air. “It
doesn't make any sense. Rather than look into the real situation,
you're distracting yourselves with me. Well fine, see if I
care.”

Her father swallowed heavily behind
her, but didn't for a second admonish her for shouting at her
mother. He wouldn't dare. This had now become a full-blown
witch-domestic. As such, it was considerably lucky for everyone
involved that Ebony didn't have any magic at the moment, or
fireballs and lightning-strikes would be bouncing off the
walls.

“
You're a foolish child,” her
mother's eyes flashed a deep purple, the hand that clutched the
banister tightening visibly. “You have no idea what you've walked
into, and now you are looking around for someone to blame, while
you ignore the real cause – you.”

“
Hold on,” Nate said from down
the stairs, voice laden with the usual authority and righteousness.
It seemed that it didn't matter who he was talking to – lowly
criminal, or super powerful mega-witch – Nate always spoke in the
same tone. He obviously stood for one thing, a thing he repeated
over and over again—’right” – and he wasn't ever going to let
anything stand in his way.

But Ebony heard Ben shout a
quick and desperate:
“shut up!! Leave it to them.”

“
No,” Nate said with greater
force this time. “This isn't right.”

Avery Bell fluttered her eyes
towards him. She appeared to give Nate a very long, very
calculating look.
“What isn't right, little chevalier?”

“
Ebony was just attacked,” he
said clearly and forcefully, tone unforgiving – even in the face of
Avery Bell's magical gaze. “This isn't a good time for a domestic.
We have to find out who did this, and why.”

Avery Bell smiled
mysteriously.
“No, those are things to find out later,” she dipped her
head to the side, as if trying to see Nate from another
angle.

“
Later?” Ebony shot back, voice
arcing with anger. “This means nothing to you, doesn't it? Your
only daughter is mugged by a magical creature, and you just don't
care. I couldn't defend myself, because you took away my magic.
What the Hell kind of mother are you?” Ebony's voice was venomous –
poisoned with a deep, frustrated anger. How dare her mother, how
dare she.

Suddenly Avery Bell's face
changed. Her eyes became darker, almost black. Her skin began to
crackle with an electric blue, and her lips drew into the thinnest
line.
“You
invoke Hell,” She put a bony hand up, touching her chest, “against
your mother.”

Ebony sucked in a breath,
watching the anger and power crackle over and through her mother,
like thunderous water engulfing a ship sinking into the sea. She
wasn't going to back down though.
“Maybe you don't give me any
choice.”

“
Choice?” Avery's voice sounded
like a bone snapping – it crackled, and punched out of her throat
with a snap. “That's exactly why you are here, and now, doing this
and that,” though her words sounded peculiarly melodic – like a
nursery rhyme – they were anything but. Each was steeped in a
grave, deep anger that rumbled like a volcano. “Have you forgotten
everything I ever taught you? You think something like this can
happen without your permission? You think you can ever be punished,
ever be affected, ever be changed by another without first giving
your consent?”

Though her words might have
been mysterious to some, Ebony knew precisely what her mother was
talking about, and she didn't want to hear it.
“You're trying to shift the
blame. Nice. You think this is all my fault?” she put a hand up to
her own chest. “You think I'm the only one involved in this
story?

“
No, but here you are at the
center, confused, delirious, and completely out of your depth,”
Avery's expression, though obviously angry, was still controlled.
That was the entire thing about her mother – everything she did,
everything she said, probably everything she thought was
controlled.

“
Thank you so much,” Ebony shook
her head, sucking her lips in, and just trying not to be torn apart
by the dual forces within her: a vicious anger, and a shaking
sorrow. It wasn't that she was only angry at her mother's actions,
in more ways than one, she felt abandoned. “You are a true
witch.”

“
Oh yes, I am,” Avery didn't
overtly react to the implied insult, just tapped her hand onto the
banister, her numerous rings clicking softly. “As such, I can read
you like a book,” her eyes darted to and fro over Ebony, as if she
were literally trying to read her daughter. “You are so pulled by
your little fantasies of righteousness, justice, and sorrow that
you can't see what is before your eyes.”

“
Oh, go on then,” Ebony took a
deep, rattling breath, throwing up her hands, “enlighten me. What's
so obvious?”

“
You're being rewritten,” this
time there wasn't a drop of anger left in Avery's voice. No
gravity, no frustration.

Ebony stopped, eyes blinking
quickly.

“
Surely you must have realized,
little witch, the signs are all around you.”

Ebony's breaths became shorter,
tighter. Her skin seemed to peak with an intense heat, then ebb
quickly into a confused, prickling cold. She wasn't being
rewritten, she tried to tell herself bravely. While all the things
that had happened to her in the past several weeks were certainly
not things she would have chosen for herself
– that didn't mean she was now
at the mercy of other forces. It just meant ....

“
You're no longer in control.
And you cannot blame me for that,” her mother's voice was much
softer now, much kinder. It was also filled with a poignant sorrow
Ebony hadn't quite heard before. “Though, perhaps, I could have
been more careful. I could have taught you more. Tried to impress
upon your growing mind the importance of making your own path,
taking your own chances, and finding out what you truly
want.”