Tethered (A BirthRight Novel) (3 page)

My little brother no longer smells of fresh-cut grass and bubblegum—he now smells like a
man
with his sporty, powder-fresh cologne. My heart that had been aching only moments ago, swells with so much joy to be with my brother again. Not a day went by where I didn’t miss his sweet smile and disarming attitude. Dru’s the kind of brother
all
girls dream of having. He’s funny, understanding, protective, in touch with his feelings, and has the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. It still
baffles
me he’s Dhelia’s twin. Can you say “polar opposites”?

While pride for my brother makes me giddy, it occurs to me he’s just now coming through the door. “Just getting home,
are we
?” I give Dru a sideways grin, wondering if he’s been up to no good. I take a big whiff of his shirt to see if I missed a hint of beer—or pot.

Both Dhelia and Aunt Morgan turn from the stove to look at his face.

Dru squirms, tugging at the collar of his powder blue button-down. “Ah...I guess I’m just getting home. I stayed at Peyton’s.” A tiny blush spreads across his round cheeks.

“Peyton?” Huh? Sounds like someone’s got some ‘splaining to do.

Even though we haven’t seen each other in years, we stay in constant contact with e-mails, calls, texts, Facebook, and tons of pictures. Yet this is the first time I’m hearing Peyton’s name.

“She’s the girl I told you about.” He tilts his head to the side, grabbing my arm. “You know...the one I’ve gone out with a few times over the years. I haven’t said much because I’m not sure where it’s going. She goes to Florida State, so I don’t know about the whole long distance thing. But summer just started, so we’ll see.” He smiles. “You’ll like her, Chloe. She’s pretty great. Sorta reminds me of my big sister.”

Awe, how sweet is he? “Oh really? Then she must be the
coolest
chick ever.” We both laugh at my less than modest comparison.

Dhelia sticks her finger in her mouth pretending to gag, but I ignore her. “So when do I meet the lucky girl?”

“Soon. Let’s see how things go with Pap tomorrow. Maybe we can make a plan for later in the week? Unless....” He pauses. “Unless you plan to leave before the weekend?” His cheeks droop like a moping Bassett Hound.

I reach up, pushing his frown into a smile with my fingertips. “Looks like you’re
stuck
with me.” I gently punch him in the arm. “I’m back for good.”

His face lights up like a tanning bed. “Seriously? That’s the
best
news I’ve heard in a long time.
Awesome
!” Dru hugs me so tight he just might sever me at the ribcage.

He lowers me to the ground, sniffing the air again. “So is breakfast ready or what?”

“Sure is.” I look to Dhelia and Aunt Morgan. “Should we eat now...or wait for Gram and Pap?”

“You’d
better
not start without us!” Pap shouts from the other room. “Heads will roll if I have to eat cold bacon.” He tries to sound tough, but we know better.

We laugh as he and Gram walk in. He still has his wits about him, which has to be a good sign.

As I assault my grandparents with hugs, I can’t help realizing how much Gram
hasn’t
changed, but how much Pap
has
. It tickles me to see him, but my heart breaks to feel his frail shoulders beneath my hands. This once strong man now seems more breakable than bone china.

He has to be okay—he
has
to!

“Now
this
is the way it’s supposed to be. Well, almost.” Gram purses her lips, eyes shooting daggers at Aunt Morgan. “So how
are
the boys, dear?”

“Ash and Aidan are just fine, Mother.
Anyway
…” Aunt Morgan changes the subject, “who wants scrambled eggs and bacon?” Everyone raises a hand. “Well what are you waiting for? Dig in!”

We eat breakfast, reminiscing over childhood stories and making plans for the future. Tension drains from my body the longer we talk. I never imagined it would feel so natural to be with my family again—as if we’d never skipped a beat.

But sitting here listening to the contented chatter brings everything to the forefront. The proverbial elephant in the room; the very reason I left home in the first place.

Witchcraft.

They’re
all
Witches. Other than Pap, every single one of them was born with a magical ability, just as I was. Though, I’m the only one who would do
anything
to give it back.

But watching the faces of my loved ones, I can admit there
is
one thing I do like about being a Witch: our funky, brilliant-blue eyes with a dark ring around the iris. When we use magic, they glow such a bright, radiant blue, one might think there’s an electric current running through them. Even I can’t deny how spectacular they are.

Which reminds me of a question I was always either too stubborn—or too afraid to ask. “Gram, there’s something I’ve always wondered about. Did our entire family have the same eyes as us?” For some reason, I need to know.

The room grows silent, her eyes scrunch up as she watches me.

“What?” I shrug.

“Well, dear, you know
very
well that subject has always been off limits with you.” She looks around the table at the rest of the family. “You can’t blame us for being skeptical of your sudden interest.”

She’s right of course. “Yeah, I know. I’m just curious.” I look down at the greasy bacon on my plate.

“You’re allowed to be, dear. It’s okay. I’d
love
to answer questions about the family.” She lays her fork on the side of her plate then crosses her hands in front of her. “You probably never paid attention when you were little, but we’re
very
different from the rest of the Moon family. Yes, they were all born with supernatural abilities, but I was the first one born with our magical eyes.” She clears her throat. “I’ve always said we were special, and that just proves it.”

“Humph,” Pap huffs. “What makes this family so special is the
superior
, genetic boost that
I
gave it. Where else do you think the damn twins came from, woman? Me!
I’m
the twin, not
you
.” He shakes his head at Gram, but then everyone laughs at their banter.

“Don’t you sass me, old man! I might not have an active power like the rest of the family, but one of my potions can still turn you into a toothless troll.” She pinches his cheek as his eyes widen in animated disgust.

Watching my grandparents now, it’s hard to believe Aurora and Samuel got the short-end-of-the-broomstick as far as gifts go. Pap obviously isn’t part of the Moon Wiccan bloodline, so he learned magic the old-school way after they were married. Not that he was crazy about the endless hours of studying. Gram even made him take a few Herbology and Botany courses.

Pap wasn’t much of a believer back then, but because he loved Gram so deeply, he knew the greatest gift he could give her would be to play a role in the one thing that brought her so much joy. And that’s precisely what he did. According to Gram, he complained the
entire
time. But knowing Pap, I’m sure he did it with sarcasm and a smile. Just like he always does.

Gram places her hand atop Pap’s and I can’t help but admire her love for him—and for magic. She
loves
being a Witch and concocting all sorts of potions and spells. No, she’s not the overly commercialized type of Witch with cauldrons and black pointy hats, who rides a broom and twitches her nose. She’d gasp in abject horror if she ever heard someone make such an accusation. For most of the family, Wicca is more of an entertaining hobby. But for Gram, it’s the
only
way of life she’s ever known.

I glance across the kitchen to the windowsill where I spot glass bottles of what looks to be calendula, lavender, and a strange blue liquid I’ve never seen before. I’m guessing they’re something new Gram’s working on for her skincare line or homeopathic remedies.

My grandparents have built a comfortable life for themselves from her gift. Her biggest sellers, however, are the various love potions people around the world would pay just about anything to get their hands on. She calls it, ‘The Magic Touch’. And believe me, it is.

My trip down memory lane halts, feeling someone’s eyes on me.

Of course. I should have known. My darling brother, the Empath, watches me with an amused smile. It can be a bit unsettling to know someone can channel your emotions. But he’d never abuse it—that’s not his style.

When Dru was ten, his best friends’ dog was hit on the road right in front of them. He felt terrible because his friend was in so much pain—all he wanted to do was make him feel better. Dru tried to console his friend as best he could, but nothing worked. He started saying, “Make it stop. Make it stop.” And the next thing he knew, his friend was somehow calm.  Instead, it was
Dru
who was crying like a baby.

Gram figured that as he got older and had a chance to develop his
gift, perhaps he could take away peoples pain
without
absorbing it
all
into himself in the process.

I wonder how much luck he’s had with that?

Dru shakes his head at me. “Stop it!”

“
What
?” I lift my hand to my cheek, feigning ignorance.

“You
know
what.” He points his finger at me. “Find something better to think about.”

Better? Not a chance. “There’s
nothing
better than my little brother.” I blow him a kiss across the table.

“What’s going on with you two?” Gram asks before taking a drink of orange juice.

“Oh, Dru doesn’t want me getting sentimental thinking about him.” We stare at each other with a smile. My god, I’ve missed this. Why did it take me until now to realize that?

“Just for that….” He grabs two slices of my bacon and shoves them in his wide-open mouth.

“Are you showing off again, dear?” Gram laughs at the chomping Dru.

“Oh, no way am
I
being a show-off.” He turns to Dhelia. “There’s only room for
one
of those in
this
family.” He chuckles.

“Excuse me?” Dhelia’s jaw falls open, glaring at her twin. “What did I do
now
?”

“Nothing,
yet
. But do you remember the stuff you used to do in school? Like the time you pulled the chair out from under Bobby Wilson as he was sitting down. Or the time you made chalk fly out of Mr. Lingenfelter’s hand when he was writing on the board? He thought the class was haunted.” Dru howls. “But the best was the day you made the tennis racket fly between snotty Susie Frank’s feet. I’ll never forget the way she nose-dived in the middle of the court.” My family laughs at the memory.

“That wasn’t funny,” I reply. “Didn’t she hurt her knee when she fell?” Dhelia can take her telekinesis a little too far sometimes.

My sister lifts the pitcher of orange juice off the table with her mind, only to fill my glass so full it spills over into my lap. I give her the death-stare, but she just snickers. “Dru was right. Show off!” I snap.

“No bickering,” Pap mumbles with his mouth full. “Eat.”

She’s so infuriating.

I grab a handful of napkins from the center of the table and wipe myself off, while the rest of the family gets back to breakfast.

I can’t tell you how many times she put our family at risk with her ego. But Gram always found a way to calm an angry parent or teacher. By the end of the conversation, they’d think it was the
other
child who’d done something wrong. Yes, Gram’s gift works miracles on more than just wrinkles and unrequited love. As long as she kept her family safe, Gram saw no harm in bending the rules a bit. Even when my mother was alive, it was still Gram who came to Dhelia’s rescue. My mom on the other hand, wasn’t nearly as good at the art of persuasion. She didn’t have the same
charm
as Gram, but that was okay with her.

My mother’s gift was pretty cool though. If I could have traded mine with hers, I would have done so in a heartbeat. She was what’s known as a Reader. When she touched an object—any object—she could tell you
everything
about
anyone
who’d ever laid their hands upon it.

Unfortunately, my father didn’t find her gift to be as wonderful as I did. He used to get so pissed at my mother for what was in
his
eyes, an invasion of other people’s privacy. It had gotten to the point where she’d walk around with her hands in her pockets, just to avoid an argument. It was irrelevant that it didn’t happen the very second she touched something. She had to take a moment to focus on the object before the flashes of information would flood her mind.