Tied With a Bow
of Benedict when they first met—dark and closed and brooding. Finally he looked at Josh, who was walking a few steps behind them. “Could you . . . you’re a nice guy and all that, Josh, but I need to . . .”
Josh looked at Arjenie, eyebrows raised.
“If you think it’s safe to drop back a bit,” she told him, “I’m good with that. We’re not close to Benedict yet.” Josh would have to drop back a long way to avoid hearing whatever Sammy wanted to confess, but she chose not to mention that. Josh wouldn’t repeat anything he heard.
As soon as Josh was out of human hearing range, Sammy spoke without looking at Arjenie. “I’ve been experimenting. Not just with the spell that was supposed to use Raven energy but for the last couple years. Seri knows. She’s helped me sometimes, but it’s my deal. It’s on me if . . . if something I did opened things up and let the wrong Power into our world.”
Oh, by the Light, Lord, and Lady. Cautiously she said, “I don’t think I’m the one you need to talk to about this.”
“You’re the one I am talking to.”
That was hard to argue with.
“And you won’t bullshit me,” he added. “You’ll tell me straight out.”
“I can’t tell you anything yet. I don’t know what you’ve been doing.”
For the next mile or so, he told her.
It was, she had to admit, intriguing. He’d put a lot of thought into his experiments. Unfortunately, he’d been trying to prove the wrong thing—that the Powers were nonsentient energies—but he’d gone about it brilliantly and had achieved a couple interesting if irrelevant discoveries along the way.
At last she said, “I’m afraid I still don’t know. It’s possible that your experiments did weaken whatever barrier lies between here and what Native Americans call the other world or the spirit world. I don’t think so, but I don’t know enough to say for sure. This is outside my experience and knowledge.”
“That friend of yours—the shaman you mentioned. Would she know? Would she talk to me?”
“She’d talk to you, and she might know. She’s really good. She doesn’t use spells at all—not the way we do, anyway. It’s all spirit. Well, except for her Gift. She’s a healer, too, like you.”
“She is?” A little light seeped back into his face. He looked so terribly young and hurt and hopeful. “And she’d be straight with me? She wouldn’t sugarcoat things?”
“I doubt Nettie has ever sugarcoated anything in her life. What I don’t understand is why you did it. For two years, sneaking around to conduct your experiments—which were brilliant, but stupid, too. Why didn’t you just tell your mom and dad what you wanted to do? Aunt Robin can be a bit close-minded,” she admitted, “but you could have talked her around eventually. And with her backing, what you did would have been safe.”
Sammy exchanged one of those twin looks with Seri, who’d been unnaturally silent the whole time. She said softly, “You said it already. We have to come clean about all of it.”
He heaved a sigh. “I don’t think I want to be Wiccan. No,” he said, his voice strengthening. “I don’t think I am Wiccan. I’ve been . . . I thought the yoga would work, that it would be enough, but it wasn’t. The experiments . . . I’ve been trying to find out what I am. What my path is.”
Oh my. Oh, but it all made sense now. Sammy was mostly a gentle soul—it was usually Seri who led the twins into trouble—mischievous, yes, but without a shred of meanness. He worried about others’ feelings and would go out of his way to avoid hurting anyone . . . especially his mother.
Who would not understand. She’d try. Aunt Robin really did believe that all religions were valid paths to the Source. But deep down she thought Wicca was the best path . . . and the Delacroix had been Wiccan for centuries.
Arjenie stopped and reached for her cousin and hugged him hard. “You are very foolish,” she told him, her eyes teary, “but you have been between a rock and a hard place, haven’t you?”
“You’re not upset?”
“That you aren’t Wiccan anymore?” She blinked the dampness back and smiled. “Some of the people I love best in this world aren’t Wiccan. Like Benedict. He—”
Her phone picked that moment to interrupt. She huffed out a breath but released Sammy to take the phone from her jacket pocket. When she saw who it was, she was glad she had. “Nettie! I hope the surgery went
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