The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (95 page)

She was more confused … especially when the next thing she did was take a step towards him so she was right up against his chest.

Earth to Elena! What are you
doing
?
 

What
was
she doing? She had no idea. It was as if something inside her was ruling the show, leading her legs, controlling her lips, which had now parted and hovered just centimetres from his.

Karl's hands encircled her waist – maybe he meant to push her away, but instead, he just seemed to become as rooted to the spot as she.

Her heart thudded, pulsing blood through her veins at the speed of a gale. The roar in her ears was deafening. She could feel the air between their lips thicken, become electric…

Karl let out a little moan, and without warning, his hands slid up her back; fingers caressed her long, dark hair, tugging at the strands, tilting her head back… He lowered his mouth, their noses brushed together—

“Elena!”
Her mother's shrill voice from the bottom of the stairs shattered the moment, and that 'something' inside Elena screamed in rage. It was momentary, and then the panic set in.

They stared at each other in shock, then leapt apart. Working in synchronicity, Karl straightened the bed, as Elena removed the chair from under the door. She smoothed her hair down; he smoothed his T-shirt down. Her mother's heels sounded outside the door.

“Mum?” Elena called out, trying her best to sound casual. “Come in.”

Katherine Green, mother turned stranger, opened the door. She stared at Karl, icily. “I thought you might be here.” Her clipped tone cut through the still lingering heat in the air, and Elena hoped to God she couldn't sense what had just taken place.

Her hope died when she saw her mother's eyes narrow, then widen slightly in surprise, before becoming clouded with an expression she couldn't name.

“I bought us Chinese, Elena. It'll be ready in fifteen minutes.” She turned back to Karl. “I trust you're just leaving, boy?”

Elena caught the clench of Karl's jaw out of the corner of her eye, and her own anger swelled, although for the moment, it wasn't quite as imminent as her sense of panic. Karl hated being referred to as 'boy' and her mother knew it – which is why she did it. It was a dig at his too young looks, his too smooth chin … his inadequacy in general. Of course, he wasn't inadequate at all, but what an awful thing to make him feel, when she knew the family issues he struggled with on a daily basis.

Elena steamed. She wondered if her mother wanted her to hate her, because this was the right way to go about it.

“Yes, I was, Mrs Green.”

Considering the way he was feeling when he'd first stumbled into her house, Elena thought it a small miracle his voice was as steady as it was right now.

He turned to her. “I'll see you after dinner for study?” he asked, gently.

“I'll be there,” she replied with a smile.

Karl held her gaze a second longer, then strode past Elena's mother, and down the stairs. For some inane reason, she felt like crying when she heard the front door shut behind him.

She looked back at her mother, and thought she caught sorrow in her eyes, but then it suddenly wasn't there and she was sure she must have imagined it.

“Fifteen minutes, Elena,” came the curt order, as she swivelled and walked out of the room, then, “We have a few things to talk about.”

Great.

Just great.

~*~

Nowadays, dinner – which they always ate at the breakfast table, because the dining room was her mother's second office – was the only time she and her mum ever talked. It hadn't always been that way, but Elena had committed a fatal crime when she was eight years old: she had brought a butterfly back from the dead. Of course, it was by accident. She'd seen it wilt in flight; she'd seen it fall. At eight years old, she hadn't been able to bear the sadness of it. She'd held out her hand, and the falling butterfly had landed in her palm. She had surrounded its still form in green light, felt life flow through her and into it; it had fluttered its wings once more and then flown away. It had been the first time her hands had ever glowed – the first time she had ever used her healing magic – and it had been nothing but pure instinct. Her mother had told her she was special – had told her about how she was a witch with a lot of power, but not in a million years would she have dreamed she could do
that
.

Karl had been with her. His ten-year-old self had been struck dumb, as they'd both watched the tiny creature climb the air currents towards the rays of the sun. She had turned towards him, beamed him a joyful smile, and giggled at the look of adoration on his face.

“You gave it wings,” he had said, awed. Then he had leaned in, pecked her on the cheek, and said, “I love you,” to which her giggle had turned into unrestrained laughter.

Her joy had plummeted as fast as it had soared when she'd caught sight of her mother off to the right, standing under a Willow tree. She knew instantly that she had seen the entire thing.

When she'd finally approached them, her face had been expressionless and for the first time ever, her eyes had been cold … and without being able to put it into words, Elena had known at that moment, that by giving life to the butterfly, she had killed a part of her mother. If she had known that would be the last time she'd see her laugh, or the last time they'd ever sing songs together as they sat on the swings in the park, she would have let the butterfly die.

“I need to talk to you, Elena, about sex.” Her mother's voice brought her out of her reverie, and she was disturbed to find her heart heavy with sorrow at the past memories. Then she realised what her mum had just said.
 

“Eeew, Mum,” she mumbled over her last forkful of noodles.
 

“No interruptions, please. I've been dreading this day…” In an unusual gesture, her mother reached across the breakfast table and took her hand. “Elena … you're special. Being the thirteenth in our family line makes you special … with that come certain responsibilities.”
 

Elena rolled her eyes. “Mum, I know about condoms and stuff.”

“Well you don't know about this … you can't ever be in a relationship.”
 

She laughed, amused that her mum had finally cracked a joke after all these years. It faded as soon as she met her eyes. She was deadly serious.

“What?”
 

“Sex is a powerful thing for any witch, just like a first bleed is, but for you, it's ten times more potent…”
 

But Elena couldn't quite take in her mother's words, because all she could hear in her mind was 'can't ever be in a relationship'. Of course, it was Karl's face that instantly appeared in her mind's eye. Was this some kind of sick joke? Was this because her mum thought there was something going on between them? She knew it,
knew
she'd given something away in her eyes earlier when her mum had walked into the bedroom…
 

What was she saying now? Was she talking about her periods? Yeah, she remembered the first time she'd bled – what a weird experience
that
had been … but what did that have to do with 'can't ever be in a relationship'?
 

“Elena,” her mother squeezed her hand, drawing her back to the present. “If you have sex, you'll be giving away your power – literally. The man you sleep with will take on your magic and you will be left barren of it. You will no longer have any powers and you will never be able to get them back.”
 

“I don't understand,” she said dumbly, annoyed that her voice was shaking.
 

Her mother sighed. “You can't have sex, Elena – ever.”

“Mum, there's
nothing
going on between me and Kar
l—”

“This isn't about you and Karl, this is about any boy – or man – that you end up with.”

Elena sat back in her seat, bewildered. “Are you telling me, that because I'm a witch, I have to be a virgin
forever
?”

“Not just a witch, a
thirteenth generation
witch.”

“I didn't ask to be a thirteenth generation witch!”

“And I didn't ask to birth one!”

Elena froze. She wondered if she'd been slapped, because those words stung.

Her mother sagged. “Oh, Elena, I didn't mean it like that … I just meant that we can't always choose our path.”

“And my path is to be alone and die a virgin?” she snapped. “What if I want to give up my powers? What if I
want
someone else to have them?”

“Would you really place all that responsibility on someone else's shoulders? They'd have to learn the ways of the Craft, their entire life would change beyond measure … they'd have to answer to The Council. They'd never be able to lead a normal life again.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. This couldn't be real. “I can't believe this … I
don't
believe this.”

Her mother held out her right hand. “Check if you don't believe me,” she said, her voice calm and steady. She was referring to what all the kids at The Council dubbed the Lie Detector Spell. A brief touch with her mother's mind would ascertain the truth of the matter.

She couldn't stop her hand from trembling as she placed it in her mother's. She reached out with her mind, and touched hers briefly. Her eyes welled up, tears spilled over and a sob escaped her before she kicked back her chair, and ran to her room.

~*~

Sex was something she had never really thought about before, not to the extent her friends at school did. They were all into the idea of it, most of them eager to share their snogging stories and whether so and so had groped whoever's tits yet. Elena didn't have a so and so in her life, and she sure as hell didn't have any tits. Of course, none of that mattered now … and now that it didn't matter, all she could think about was sex. Life was cruel. Very cruel.

She shifted on the floor where she'd been sitting curled up for the past half an hour – her bum was getting numb. She could feel where her tears had dried on the skin of her cheeks. A glance up at her bedside clock told her she had to be at Karl's in fifteen minutes. Fresh tears threatened to brim over her eyes, but she pushed them back with a shake of her head. No more crying – she could do this.

Nothing had even happened between her and Karl earlier – it was a non-kiss, and she could forget about it. She
had
to forget about it…

And Karl would forget about it too, because Karl was Karl. He was easy going and accepting of the things that got thrown his way; besides, he was two years older than her – no doubt she'll be finding him with a girl on his arm before too long. Her throat constricted, and she almost threw up at the mere thought of it.

She pulled herself to standing and glanced at the photo of her and her mother, on her bookcase. It was the only photo of them together that she had, and it had been taken at the park when she was six. They were both beaming happiness – Elena at the camera, and her mother at her.

On the other end of the same shelf, was a picture of her with her friends, Sophie and Laura. Sophie had moved to Lancaster a year ago, and Laura no longer hung out with her, preferring the company of those who were a little more part of the 'in-crowd' than Elena was.

Every other photo she had in her room was of her and Karl, or just Karl. A lot of them consisted of them pulling stupid faces together; most of them held treasured memories for her. Her favourite was the one taken about two years ago. They both sat in a field of Lavender, under an August sun. They had placed the camera on a log and set the timer on it, then rushed back to position before it went off; only a rabbit had darted past them at the last moment, and Elena had squealed with delight. At the exact same time, the sun had burst forth from behind a cloud.

The resulting photo consisted of her, wide-mouthed, jumping up and pointing off to the right, and Karl looking up at her, laughing. The sun's emerging rays had bounced off the lens, causing a reflective spot just above Karl's head. It made him look like he had a halo, and where the light refractions spread out and ended, gave the illusion he had wings.

With a startling clarity, she all at once understood that she would never get over Karl – she had nothing and no one to get over him with. She had no ammunition. She could never move on. She'd never know if she could have loved him – she would never know love at all.

The air seemed to suffocate her.

This was the end. Love. Ends. Here… Now.

Catatonia rose within her – she couldn't breathe.

Something tapped at the window. A stone?

Somehow, she managed to put foot in front of foot and make her way to her sill. The sky was just fading into twilight, and its grey clouds had finally shed their water – it was spitting with rain.

Karl stood on the road looking up at her. He raised his hands and signed,
Hello.
 

A faint smile touched her lips. This was one of their things – they had learnt basic sign language a few years back. It had started late one night, when his parents' arguments had gotten so bad he couldn't stand to stay indoors any longer, so he'd tapped her window with a pebble, and since scaling the front of her house was damn near impossible, they'd spent a rather amusing evening trying to guess what the other was saying, like a really bad game of charades. After that they'd decided they would learn to sign, so that if it ever happened again, at least the night would go by more smoothly.

I still have five minutes,
she signed back.

I know, but I was worried about you … you okay?

He always knew when she didn't feel right. Her smile widened, even as a tear betrayed her and slid down her face. Nevermind, he wouldn't notice it this far away.

Mum just gave me some bad news … I'll tell you about it in a minute.