Destruction: The December People, Book One (19 page)

“That’s a little better,” she said. “I feel like I should ask you to come in and sit down, but it is
your
office. Do you always perform your business from the doorway?”

He said nothing.

“I ask you for ten minutes of your time,” she said. “That seems only fair considering the fact I flew all the way from New York.”

“In a plane?”

Rachel laughed as she would with an old friend. “I knew I would like you, David Vandergraff. Can we sit?”

His neck tightened with tension, and he could barely move his head, but he entered his office and sat down behind his desk. He nodded toward the chair, and she sat.

“I can tell this will be one hell of a negotiation,” Rachel said. “It was quite a feat getting you to just enter your office and sit in your chair. That’s a first.” She pulled some files out of her briefcase. “But I didn’t come here for a tough negotiation. I’ll get right to the point. I’m prepared to offer you three times what your assets are worth.” She smiled at him in an overly familiar way. “And I’ll even throw in an extra one hundred thousand just for those wounded puppy eyes of yours.” She picked up the family photo he had on his desk and smiled at it warmly. “You’re breaking my heart with the whole dark wizard family man thing you’ve got going on.”

She pushed some papers toward him. “I drew up the offer in writing. Of course, I’m happy to discuss the finer details and negotiate changes once you have your lawyer look it over. But I’m sure you’ll agree the deal is in your favor.”

“That is awfully generous,” he said in a tone so cold it could reverse global warming. “But you’ll have to forgive me for not crying tears of joy. Ms. Colter, I am in no mood to play games. Least of all with you. Tell me what you really want. Why would a businesswoman make an offer that wasn’t in her favor?”

Her smile faltered slightly, and she leaned back in her chair and looked at her hands. “Well, assuming you aren’t this rude and aggressive with all your business associates, you must know who I am… and why I might give you a… family discount.”

“We’re not family,” he said.

“Actually, if you did a little research into your genealogy, you’d see we are sixth cousins. You know how wizards are. So hopelessly connected. But, of course, that’s not what I meant. You’ll have to forgive me David, I’m not good at… delicacies.”

“What is your relationship to Whitman Colter?”

“You really don’t know who I am. I get all that hatred from you simply because of my surname? Or was it because you pegged me as a practicing witch? Too good to do business with my kind? You castrated wizards are all the same.”

“What did you call me?”

“I apologize. I didn’t come all the way here to argue wizard politics or sling insults. To answer your question, I was Whitman Colter’s little sister. Well, I
am
his sister. It’s a permanent condition, I suppose. But I hadn’t seen my brother for seven years. Not until I was called to Odessa to identify his body. I was the only person close enough to him to even recognize his body. Can you imagine? A sister he hadn’t seen in years. How sad is that?”

“The only sad thing about Whitman Colter’s death is that it didn’t happen sooner and more painfully.”

“You don’t have to tell me he was an evil man. I knew him much better than you.”

She absently twirled a locket she wore around her neck. Talisman.

David exhaled. The lack of oxygen from infrequent breathing had made him lightheaded.

“I don’t accept the offer,” David said.

“You didn’t even read it.”

“I can’t accept money acquired using dark magic.”

She laughed humorlessly. “I’m not going to say I never use magic in my work, because I am proud to say I do. But don’t imply I snap my fingers and make money appear. Even a wizard who doesn’t practice knows magic isn’t as simple as that. I’m a businesswoman, and a damn good one. I’m successful because I work hard and am good at what I do.”

David opened his mouth to say something else but stopped when Rachel suddenly stood. She picked up the papers and put them in her briefcase.

“As a dark witch and a businesswoman, my bouts of compassion are few and far between. And I don’t have the patience for your bigotry or ungratefulness. I wish you the best of luck feeding your family without money and without magic. Goodbye, David Vandergraff.”

David left work to pick up Xavier and Evangeline from school. He didn’t trust the school bus with them yet. Today, David got good old-fashioned butterflies in his stomach when he saw them leaning against the wall in their school uniforms, wearing backpacks. He didn’t look forward to the talk he would have with Xavier. His apology.

David always did a double take when he saw them in their school uniforms. He barely recognized them. Navy blue polo shirts. Evangeline in a knee-length pleated khaki skirt and Xavier in khaki chinos. No embellishments allowed. They didn’t complain, but David imagined they hated it. It felt cruel to make them dress that way. How many days would it take wearing khakis and living in a magic-free household before they snapped? Or just ran away and he never saw them again? They wouldn’t give him any heads-up; he’d just wake up and they’d be gone.

They climbed in the backseat together. Neither one of them had ever sat in front with him. But he had no interest in fighting small battles.

“How was school?”

“Fine,” they both said.

No surprise there. A normal response for teenagers of any variety. Except for Emmy, who would have given him a play-by-play of every moment of her day, including trips to the water fountain and what everyone she knew had been wearing.

“Did you learn anything interesting today?” he asked.

“No,” Evangeline said.

“Did you learn anything boring, then?” David asked.

Evangeline giggled. “Lots.”

“What was the most boring thing you learned?”

Evangeline paused to consider while Xavier stared out the window.

“Hmm…” she said. “The most boring was Social Studies. The three branches of the government. I hate the government.”

David laughed. It sounded so odd to hear those words in her sweet twelve-year-old girl voice.

“Sometimes I do too. But they do some good on occasion, if only accidentally. Xavier, what about you? Anything you find particularly loathsome about school?”

The tiniest of smiles broke free. It reminded him of Crystal’s accidental smiles that slipped out despite her permanent vow of seriousness. So beautiful and unexpected. David stopped watching the road for a second and had to hit the brakes hard at the light.

“I don’t know. Geometry is okay,” Xavier said. “I like that it makes sense.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever known anyone to like geometry because it makes sense. You must be quite the intellectual, son.”

Son.
It had slipped out. It had felt so good to say.
Please don’t freak out on me.

Xavier didn’t react in any obvious way. But he never did. He continued his staring vigil.

Evangeline darted to her room to take off her school uniform immediately upon entering the house. Xavier wandered into the kitchen. He at least shared one trait with his brothers: the need to re-fuel frequently. If David wanted a chance to talk to Xavier without Evangeline answering for him, he had to act now.

Xavier stared into the pantry and then turned around with a box of Wheat Thins in hand. He started when he saw David.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew I was in here,” David said.

Xavier shrugged one shoulder.

“If it’s okay, I wanted to talk to you for a second.”

Xavier said nothing.

“I’m really sorry about what happened this morning with the coffee pot. I shouldn’t have lost my temper over something so small. I am very sorry.”

Xavier stacked his crackers into a star shape that defied gravity. He might not want to speak, but the bold display of magic seemed to speak for itself.

“That is… very cool,” David said.

Xavier removed one of the crackers and popped it into his mouth, causing the structure to fall.

“Even if you did break the coffee pot, it’s not a huge deal,” David continued. “If things upset you about living here or about anything, I just wish you would tell me instead of breaking things. If you tell me, then maybe I can change it, or at least we could talk about it so you could understand why things have to be a certain way. But you have to tell me. I don’t know what you’re telling me with a broken coffee pot. It’s frustrating… because I want to understand, and all I can do is guess.”

Xavier rearranged his crackers into a standing stick figure.

“What do you think about what I said?” David asked. “Can you please say something?”

“I’m good at magic. I don’t just destroy things like you said.”

“I know. I can see that.”

“But you don’t care about the magic I can do,” Xavier said. “You pretend it’s not even real. That we’re crazy or something.”

A surge of anger bubbled up in David’s chest, but at Amanda, not Xavier. Choosing not to practice seemed bad enough, but David must have looked like a complete asshole pretending magic didn’t even exist.

“I’m sorry about that,” David said. “I guess I forgot some things.”

Xavier narrowed his eyes but didn’t ask for clarification.

“I care about the magic you can do,” David said. “I want to know about the stuff you like and the stuff you’re good at. I really do.”

Xavier raised one eyebrow skeptically. “Magic is forbidden.”

“Just describe it to me. What spell are you best at?”

“Best at?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I can… leave.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can leave my body. I mean… I don’t actually go anywhere. It’s more like closing the curtains in a house. I don’t know what’s going on outside. I turn my senses off.”

Like a turtle in a shell.

“Sounds peaceful.”

“I guess.”

“Do you do this often?”

“Not that often.” He flicked off his cracker man’s arms, then his legs and head. “I got a little too good. I do it on accident sometimes.”

“It’s cool you can do that,” David said. “But I would like it if you stayed here as much as you can. I like it when you’re here.”

“I try. I have to stay. To protect Eve.”

David nodded. He wanted to say she didn’t need protection anymore. Not here. Even so, Xavier didn’t protect her alone anymore. David had that job now. But he doubted Xavier felt that way.

“And try to stay present during class, okay? Even if it’s something terrible like a grammar lesson.”

Another tiny smile. “All right.”