22. Chapter 22

22

Chapter 22

Rowan

" W hat's wrong, sis? You look a million miles away."

"Hmmm?" I lift my head, straightening my glasses as I look at my sister. She seems a bit foggy through the lenses, so I take them off. "Sorry. Just a lot on my mind."

"I know what you mean." Kara exhales, rubbing her eyes. She's settled on the overstuffed couch in my living room, her legs curled beneath her. I'm sitting in much the same position in an armchair on the other side of the room.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask, hoping that if we focus on her, I'll be able to avoid any probing questions. There's so much confusion swirling inside me that I'm afraid it will all peel out with just a little prompting.

No. I'm keeping this secret.

I curl my fingers, closing my hands. Though there hasn't been any further sign of that power since I woke up from the dream Darick had taken me into last night.

Kara takes a sip from the mug I'd handed her shortly after she arrived half an hour ago. The tea is strong and fragrant – one of Gran's favorite blends. She heaves another sigh. "I'm just…" She looks down into her mug. "I'm not ready to give up," she says softly. "On Mia."

I nod. "I know."

"But you were so comfortable with it when Dad said we needed to hold the vigil." Kara glances at me. "I thought you'd accepted that she's gone."

"I don't want to. But it seems the only way for us to move on from this, Kara. The longer we hold on to hope, the longer we'll be stuck in our grief."

She frowns a little. "You sound just like Gran when you talk like that."

"I'd like to think that's a good thing." I smile gently.

"So you'd give up on her. Just like that?"

"Not ‘just like that,' Kara. It's the hardest thing I've ever done." I pinch my lips together for a second. "But what else can we do? Gran says she can't feel her. If she could, that would give us hope. But it's been so long. If she was out there, Gran would have felt her."

"Well, I think we should try." Kara has stiffened a little, as if resolve is straightening her spine. "I want us to try another Spirit Circle," she says quickly.

My eyes widen, my mug paused halfway to my lips. "But… But we had a Starlight Vigil."

"No, we didn't. The vampires interrupted that, remember?" Kara shakes her head, taking a sip of tea before going on. "I'm going to ask Mom and Dad if we can gather a family Circle again."

I can't argue with her reasoning, but there's more than one obstacle to this task. "We tried it already, Kara. At least a dozen times." I sag back against my seat. Every family of witches is connected – by blood, by spirit… As long as we're alive, a group of close relatives can join hands and reach out to each other. At least, in theory, we can do it. For the Blackwoods…not so much.

Because of me.

I'm the weakest link.

As if reading my mind, Kara raises a hand. "Rowan, I know what you're going to say, and I don't want you to say it."

I bite my lip, then say it anyway, "Kara, I… I don't think I'm strong enough. The Spirit Circle needs all of us to be at our full magical potential, and you know I'm—"

"Stop right there," Kara interrupts. "I saw you during the attack, Ro. You cast spells. Real, effective spells. Maybe they aren't earth-shattering yet, but your power is there, we just need to nurture it."

"There's nothing to nurture," I mutter, although as I say it, I'm thinking of the surge of power I felt last night.

"But there is!" Kara's voice is urgent. "Please, sis. I'll help you."

"Yeah. Right. Because I'll always need your help." God, I sound bitter.

"You know that's not what I mean. I just…" Her throat works. "This is important. If we could just try again, maybe with a little more power—"

"Gran has more power than ten witches. I'm pretty sure she would have made up for my inadequacy." There's that bitterness again. But we have to face facts. I am what I am.

Or maybe I'm something more now.

Quit it, Rowan.

I'm grasping at straws. I can't cling to a fantasy about absorbing some kind of superpower from a vampire…or whatever is happening between us.

"Come on, let's give it a try. What harm could it do?" Kara won't let up. "It's for Mia, Ro. Why won't you just do it?"

"I'd be letting you all down, that's why," I mutter, my grip tightening on my mug. "I'll be a disappointment to you…yet again." And to myself. I shake my head, feeling the familiar burden of defeat settling on me.

"You're never a disappointment to us, Rowan. We love you." My sister's expression is earnest. But I can't bring myself to believe it.

I grit my teeth. There those words are: "us" and "we." A constant reminder of the division between me and my family – because I'm not a part of the "us" and "we" my sister is talking about. There's them and me.

"You'd be wasting your time, Kara." I scowl into my cup. "You'd get your hopes up, plow your energy into building up this so-called magic of mine, only for me to let you down when we try yet again to find her. I'm a failure. Let's just accept it and move along."

With an exasperated huff, Kara sets her half-empty mug down and stands abruptly.

"That's bullshit, and you know it!" she snaps, glaring at me. I blink in surprise. "You know what? I've had enough of this crap. You've spent your whole life feeling sorry for yourself because you think your magic isn't as strong as the rest of the family's. Personally, I don't think it's not strong; I think it's just different. But we'll never know, will we? Because you're too much of a coward to find out."

My mouth drops open. I don't know what to say.

"There has never been a moment when we've loved you any less because of your magic," she goes on, her eyes flashing. "Yet still, you choose to wallow in self-pity. Well, this time, it's not about you, dammit. This time, it's about Mia."

"Kara, I—"

She raises a hand to stop me. "Don't! Just don't. I can't listen to another ‘poor me, I can't do it' line from you. You can do it. You know you can. You're just choosing not to. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why." She stomps her foot and then starts marching toward the front door. She stops as she reaches it, one hand on the doorknob. "Rowan, you're my sister, and I love you with all my heart. I always will. But right now, I'm really, really mad at you." She flings the door open. "Make the right choice, Ro. Do it," she throws over her shoulder before slamming the door shut behind her.

I stare speechlessly, my eyes prickling. I don't think my sister has ever spoken to me that way before. In fact, I know she hasn't.

Silence descends like a blanket of recriminations. And it's heavy.

Is that what they think? That I'm selfish? That I don't want to try?

A tear burns as it breaks past the boundary of my lashes. I dash it away.

Self-pity?

Do they really believe that? Worse yet, is that what I've been doing?

Maybe you have…

I swallow down the lump in my throat, refusing to give in to the wave of misery that's threatening to wash over me. Because that would just prove Kara's point.

Wallowing in self-pity…

No! That's not what I'm doing. Maybe she's right when she says I've done it in the past. But then again, maybe she's not. Maybe I simply hate seeing the disappointment on their faces, knowing that I did that to them.

You don't have to be a disappointment, Rowan.

There's an alternative.

I rub my fingertips together, feeling a ghost of the energy I'd felt last night. Or maybe it's my imagination. But I know I didn't imagine what happened.

Except, it was in a dream, dammit!

Although, so was that bite, and that came back with me. Not for long, but it was there. And when I went back to the dreamscape where I'd been with Darick, I'd been strong again – Heath had seen it.

I think of steely features and icy-blue eyes.

Maybe there's a way I can do this.

But at what cost?

"Ugh!" I huff, putting my mug down sharply on the coffee table. Cold tea splatters.

Does it matter what the cost is? Without real magic, I don't deserve to be a Blackwood. If it wasn't for me, Mia might be home safe right now instead of facing…

I don't want to think about what she's had to face. Or whether she survived her ordeal at the hands of the vampires.

It seems so ironic that the only way I can help is if I turn to one of those bloodsuckers. Not just anyone. A clan elder. Someone with power. For all I know, he could be involved in it all.

No. He wouldn't be involved.

How do I know that? What if this whole thing is a trap? A way to get into our ranks. Take us down from within.

But even as I think it, I know it isn't true. Somehow, I can tell that he's not like that. Maybe it's because we share some kind of mental bond.

"Come on, Rowan! Take a risk for once in your life," I say out loud.

Just do it.

Pressing my fingertips to my eyelids, I give myself one last chance to change my mind. Then I take a deep breath.

"Darick? Are you there?"