17. Daisy

CHAPTER 17

Daisy

"I should have grabbed a scarf," Daisy grumbles to herself.

Sloan unwraps the silky scarf around her neck and offers it to Daisy. "Here, you can have mine."

Daisy's eyes cut to Sloan. "I don't need your pity." Yet again, she immediately regrets her response as soon as she says it. Why does she keep doing this? The back and forth between being nice and snapping at Sloan is exhausting, and as much as she wants to set aside that lingering anger, it keeps popping up.

"I'm not pitying you. You said you were cold and you're standing there shivering, so I thought I could try to be nice."

"Well, you don't need to be nice to me." Daisy huffs internally, willing herself to stop what's about to happen before it starts. But she knows it's too late.

"Why?" Sloan asks, her voice cracking with frustration.

"Because you're… you," Daisy responds. She looks down the road, her eyes teary, wishing for the hayride bus to show up and end this conversation. Hoping that, for once, the Goddess will bless her and end this misery she's caused herself.

Sloan turns and faces her, eyes boring into Daisy's skull. "What does that mean?" she asks, placing a hand on her hip.

Daisy sighs and looks back at her. "You know."

"No, I don't. Please enlighten me."

Tension fills Daisy's chest, and magic sizzles at her fingertips. She doesn't even know why she started this. Why did it matter that Sloan was offering her the scarf? Could she not have simply taken it and said thank you? Apparently not. Instead, here she is, picking a fight for no reason. "We don't need to be friends. You don't need to be nice to me. I'm not even sure you know how to be nice to people."

Sloan guffaws. "Are you serious?"

"As a hex."

Sloan rolls her eyes and turns away. She takes a couple of steps before turning around to face Daisy again. "I have been nothing but kind to you since we got here. I've done everything I can to try and appease you, to be reassuring, and I've been putting up with your hot and cold mood swings the entire time. I think you don't know what to do when someone is kind to you. You've spent so much of your life thinking everyone is shitting on you all the time that you fail to think someone could do anything else but that."

Her words land like a slap, hitting her insecurity and picking up on the words she tells herself all the time. "How dare you. You have no right to say any of that to me. You. Of all witches. Have no fucking right," Daisy responds, raising her voice as violet sparks dance on her fingertips.

"Why is that, Daisy?"

Daisy looks around, noticing the passersby on the street, some glancing their way. Great, they are causing a scene. "You know why. We have a history, Sloan. You spent years doing anything that you could to make my already shitty life shittier," she says, despite the realization that Sloan was more bystander than an active participant in her pain, "and a few kind moments now that we are forced to work together like a crappy group project won't make up for that. I don't want to trust you."

"Well, thank you for finally being honest with me."

"You're welcome?"

"I know we have a history. I would love to take all that back, but I can't. I would also like to think I am not the same person I was as a teenager. Fuck, it's been like fifteen years. You know nothing about the person I am today. I can wholeheartedly say that I am sorry for the pain I caused you when we were younger. I was dumb and couldn't risk being someone other than I was. But I've changed, and I'd like the chance to show you that you can trust me. However, I can't do that if you are unwilling to see past our history and give me that chance."

Daisy crosses her arms, looking down at the ground as she swirls the tip of her black ankle boot around in the dirt, creating interlocking circles. "I don't know if I can. You and your friends nearly destroyed me. That's a lot to forgive."

"Former friends," Sloan corrects.

Daisy looks up, her eyes finding Sloan's. She's met with pools of chocolate—warm, welcoming eyes that could consume her if she let them. "Sorry?"

"Former friends," Sloan repeats. "I actually just ended my friendship with Francesca and Gwen this morning. Simply put, I realized I had moved on from them long ago, and it was time to free myself from them."

Her anger dissipates, softening her edges. "Oh," Daisy responds, looking away.

"Yeah. Oh."

"They were so dumb anyway. It's likely for the best. It was only a matter of time before they accidentally poisoned you." It's a dumb joke, and Daisy knows it, but it lightens the mood between them and earns her the smallest quirk of a smile from Sloan.

"Thank you for your understanding," Sloan deadpans.

"Anytime."

"Not that I want to ruin this moment, but the council wants us to work together on this project. I have connections, and you clearly have a talent for event planning, as you've got us here," she says, motioning to the general area around them. "Do you think you can work with me? Like, actually work with me. See me as a partner or collaborator in this project?"

Daisy looks back at Sloan, hesitating. She wants to say yes; she wants to be able to move past everything between them. She knows she needs to trust Sloan, or at least give her a chance, but it's going to take more than cutting some twat waffles out of her life.

"Looks like our chariot is coming," Sloan says, pointing to the bright red coach bus at the other end of the street. "You might want to at least pretend to answer before it gets here," she teases.

"Will an ‘I'll try' suffice for now?"

The bus pulls up in front of them, its brakes squealing, and a small cloud of dirt surrounds it. The doors squeak open, and the driver smiles, waving them on. "Welcome to the Happy Harvest Hayride shuttle!" the driver says. At the same time, Sloan replies softly, "That's all I can ask for," as she steps up and into the bus ahead of Daisy.

The ride to Dee-lightful Farms, where the hayride apparently takes place, feels like it takes forever, but according to the driver, it is only a short ten-minute ride. Daisy and Sloan sit together, with Sloan stepping aside and letting Daisy take the window seat. Instead of risking more awkward conversation, Daisy rests her head on the window, watching the town pass by as they head into the more rural outskirts of Leeside.

As she watches colorful houses and people pass, she senses Sloan shifting beside her. Sparing a glance out of the corner of her eye, Daisy sees Sloan has tipped her head back onto the headrest and closed her eyes. Her hands lay gently in her lap as the bus sways her gently back and forth. If she were to look more carefully, she'd be certain that there was a soft, knowing smile on Sloan's delicate lips. But she's not looking that closely, so Daisy can't be sure.

Sloan has a point that they need to find a way to work through or at least around their history. And a part of her wants to be able to do that. But a bigger part—a very scared part—is afraid to let Sloan into her shell. She's spent years honing it and trying to avoid the twisted trio. Can she really let it all go because the council asks her to?

Her mind is still reeling, causing her stomach to do the same, when the bus pulls up to the farm. As they step onto the grass, Daisy is surprised by what she sees. She's not sure why, but she was expecting a more rundown and vacant type of establishment. Instead, as she turns this way and that, she sees a farm bursting with energy. Human and supernatural children chase each other around a maze, families mingle and laugh together, and a huge dog runs up to them and jumps at Daisy, placing its large paws on her thighs, nearly knocking her over. Sloan's hands find her just in time, steadying her before she falls.

Daisy brushes the dirt off her legs and reaches out to the friendly furry giant, ruffling her hand through the fur on the top of its head as it wags its tail vigorously. "Hello, fluffy friend. Who are you?" Daisy asks, her voice taking on a higher pitch, usually reserved for babies and animals.

"Ah. I see you've met our super thorough security team. I'm Barker," a bear-like man says to Daisy, offering his hand for a handshake, "and this is Stanley." Daisy takes his hand and feels a spark meet with hers. She jumps back in surprise, brushing her hand off on her hip. "Nice to meet you both."

Sloan casts a look at Daisy before saying, "Hi. I'm Sloan. We're here for the hayride. I believe someone at The Dandelion has arranged our attendance."

"Ah, yes. So you must be Daisy then?" Barker asks as he looks back at her.

"Ye..." She swallows. "Yes."

Holy shit, that was intense.

"Wonderful. The hayride is down the path. There should be another ride leaving in about…" He looks at his watch. "Five minutes."

"Thank you," Sloan responds before grasping Daisy's arm and tugging her in the direction he pointed. "You alright there?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?" Sloan repeats.

"Oh. Yeah. Did he shock you when you shook hands?" Daisy asks, looking behind her and catching Barker winking at her.

"No. Did he shock you?"

She turns back around to pay attention to the trail they are walking on. Goddess knows all she needs right now is to trip over a stray branch and face plant into a pile of horse shit. "Yeah. It was probably nothing." Looking down at her hand, she sees the faint glow of her violet magic. Did her magic just act out and try to keep him away? Is that something it can do?

"Come on. We're going to miss the next ride."

Daisy nods to herself and picks up the pace, matching Sloan's. They make it to the hayride in time and manage to take the final seats available for this round. They take the only two open seats near the back of the trailer, sitting on top of two small haybales acting as seats. Surrounded by families with young children excited to ride around a farm, the tractor at the front pulls away, and their hayride begins.

Fiddling with the silver ring on her thumb, she feels her magic calling out, seeking an outlet. Not now, she tells it. She continues to feel the electric current building under her skin, coursing through her veins, reaching for the surface, seeking release. NOT. NOW.

"Are you okay?" Sloan asks.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you're about to heave all over little Clementine next to you."

Daisy wipes the sweat building up on her brow and looks at the redheaded child next to her. "I think I might. My magic is pushing for release, and I'm not sure I can control it."

Sloan's eyes widen in fear. "Here. Take my hand."

"What? Why?"

Sloan angles her body toward Daisy, making their knees touch and placing a foot between hers. "I can act as a conduit or a vessel for your excess magic. It will help release the pressure as you channel it into me."

Sweat builds on Daisy's brow again. She wipes it away with the sleeve of her sweater and runs her clammy hands on her thighs. "Okay."

Sloan picks up her hands and wraps them within hers. "Close your eyes."

"Are you going to throw me off the trailer?" Daisy asks jokingly.

"Maybe. But wouldn't you rather not see it coming?"

Daisy side-eyes her and catches the small smirk. She does as instructed and closes her eyes. "Now what?"

"Take a breath. As you release the breath, slowly push your power toward me. You'll feel the current shift away from you and toward me. That's what we want."

"Okay." Daisy breathes deeply and holds it for a second to steady herself. She feels the rush of her power within, the heady buzz aching for an outlet. As she breathes out, she pictures Sloan in her mind and pushes her power toward her, toward their contact points.

"That's it," Sloan says, sounding almost intoxicated. "Keep it slow and steady."

As she continues pushing her magic toward her, Daisy feels the shift, and the pressure within her releases. No longer on the verge of bursting, Daisy opens her eyes and sees Sloan merely inches from her. Sloan's chocolate eyes are nearly glowing with power, and it does something to Daisy, knowing that that light there is literally because of her.

"Better?" Sloan whimpers. But not from pain. From pleasure. Her voice is bordering on orgasmic.

"Much. Thank you."

Sloan clears her throat. "No problem. What, um… What caused that influx?"

"I don't know. It happens sometimes. Usually, I can control it, but it wasn't going to let me this time. I needed to release."

"It's happened before?" Sloan asks.

"A few times."

"For how long?"

Daisy adjusts her positioning, finally taking her hands from Sloan's and putting a couple of inches between them. "A few weeks or so. Only since I merged with my grimoire. I'm still getting used to the increased abilities."

Sloan straightens, running her hands along her thighs. She nods but doesn't ask anything further. There's a flash of something in her eyes, but it's gone before Daisy can fully make sense of it.

"How did you know you could do that? Be a vessel or whatever?"

"My mom did it a couple of times for me when I was young. Learning to control our powers is hard, and it's helpful to have that option when it gets a bit too much," she responds, sounding more like herself as the magical glow around her diminishes.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. It's oddly soothing. You feel a little drunk on the power for a few minutes, but that passes relatively quickly as the surge gets absorbed and neutralized by my own magic."

"Well, folks, that concludes the hayride. Please feel free to visit the other booths and attractions around the farm, and don't forget to pick up some of our homemade cider too!" the driver calls.

"Best hayride I've ever been on," Sloan says, smiling softly at Daisy.

Daisy swallows. "Me too."