Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

That night at dinner Grams told me about the inspection. "Everything's good to go. A few minor things need repair, but there's nothing major. The owner and I came to an agreement, so the deal is on. May and I had a full afternoon of shopping after that."

"Wonderful," I said. "I'm going to miss you."

"I know, dear. What about you? How was your jaunt to the park?"

"Cold, but informative." I told Grams what I had read in my father's diary. "Do you remember him ever saying anything about financial worries?"

"Remember, he was my grandson, not my son. And I lived in Scotland until this year. Occasionally, your father wrote me letters, and once in a while he would call, but we weren't exactly close. Given the fact that his own father died when he was ten, there wasn't a strong link. I liked Malcolm's mother, but Elisa wasn't the greatest correspondent. She was swamped trying to keep the family going. We did everything we could to help, including paying for Malcolm's higher education, but it's a long way from Port Townsend to Scotland."

I couldn't ask Elisa, my grandmother, because she had died the same year as my father. The one person who might be able to answer my questions was my mother, but before I opened that can of worms, I needed to think hard.

"Tell me about the Witches' Guild. Is there a central guild? One that rules all of them?" It struck me how little I knew about my heritage and culture. While I had been instructed in magic, it had been a generic approach, never a central focus. "You said there was a queen of witches when the schism happened between the wolf shifters and the witches. Is there one now?"

"I see we have a lot to go through," Grams said. "I can give you some general information, but I recommend that you check with some of the local magic academies. Ask if they have any general courses—the history of witchblood, for example. It would be good for you to get a grounded view of your heritage."

I nodded and pulled out my tablet. I did a quick search for local academies and found that Starlight Hollow actually had an annex to the Greater Grimoire Academy located in Port Townsend. Clicking over to their website, I scanned through the offerings. They offered adult learning classes in addition to a full kindergarten through grade 12 program.

"The Greater Grimoire Academy has a class starting in January on the history of witchery through the ages. It has two sections: political and civil. I think I'll sign up for that. The political section meets on Wednesday evenings and the civil section meets on Thursday evenings. It's not expensive. I never even thought to check for something like that."

"I think you'll find it helpful. As to the guilds, every guild is independent, but there are guidelines that all are required to follow to be included in the official registry."

Grams paused, then asked, "Do you even know the official websites for the royal family?" But before I could answer, she let out a sigh. "Of course, the answer is no. How would you? You didn't even know that we have a queen. I swear, parents need to do a better job of educating their children. You can find out which guilds are officially sanctioned on that website." She gave me the URL and I quickly typed it in.

Sure enough, the website for the nobility of witchblood came up. I bookmarked it for further reference, then poked around until I found the section for witches' guilds. I typed in the zip code for Port Townsend, and the reference came up.

The Port Townsend Witches' Guild lost its official sanction in 1985, when they enacted several rules going against the general code of conduct established by the royal family. They were given one year to make the changes, but when no steps were taken, they were officially dropped from the registrar. Periodically, the court has contacted them, but each time the investigation has shown no progress. Therefore, the Port Townsend Witches' Guild has no official standing within the court.

"Well, obviously something went wrong," I said.

"It's generally some form of corruption. There are codes for proper behavior in order to be officially recognized. Anyone found to have broken those codes will be expunged from the records upon an investigation. That goes for both individuals and organizations."

I found the search for the individual members and typed in my name. It appeared with the words in good standing after my name. Out of curiosity, I typed in my father's name. Much to my surprise, his entry came up with the word expelled and a date emblazoned in fiery red.

"So my father was expelled from the rolls?" I looked up my mother. It indicated she was still in good standing, as was my aunt Ciara. A quick look for my cousin Owen and I saw the word deceased and his status. "I see they keep these up to date."

I didn't know why I was so surprised. While I hadn't realized anybody was keeping tabs on me, given what the government itself did in terms of clandestine surveillance, it made sense. I had a lot to relearn and to think about.

"I suggest that you not contact the Port Townsend Witches' Guild while we're up there," Grams warned. "When you have too much to do with an organization that is out of favor with the Crown, word gets around quickly. There are eyes everywhere. As to your father's financial status, he couldn't have been hurting all that badly, given the amount of your trust fund."

I shrugged. "I'm not so sure. In the diary he mentioned he had wrapped my trust up in an ironclad contract. Maybe he couldn't touch the money, even if he needed it. And now I feel guilty because what if that's what killed him? Having his trust fund has been a goddess-send, but what if it came at the cost of his life?"

Grams leaned over, placing her hand on mine. "Don't go there. Don't even let that cross your mind. You are not to blame for his death. You did nothing to cause it. He made that choice, and in doing so he assured your future would be secure. In the end, that's what matters. He loved you, and he wanted you to make a good start."

I nodded, deep in thought. "He did love me. If nothing else, reading through this journal has shown me how much he cared about me. He did whatever he could to try and protect me from whoever it was coming after him."

Grams gave a decisive nod. " Good . That's the way a MacPherson should behave."

"All right. I won't dwell on it. But there are so many questions I want answers for." I silently helped Grams clear the table, steeped in the mystery that had surrounded my father.

I was about to text good night to Bran when a text came in from him.

i wanted to tell you good night. i had a long day, and tomorrow's going to be longer. since we'll be going to your mother's for thanksgiving, i'm spending the first few days of this week getting as much done as we can on the barn. But i wanted to let you know that i contacted Kyle and i'm supposed to meet with him tomorrow morning for breakfast. i'll let you know how things go. good night and i love you.

A million responses raced through my mind, but I just texted, i love you too. let me know what he says.

I crawled into bed. As Gem settled on my pillow, and Silver sprawled across the bottom of my bed, I fell into a deep but troubled sleep, and in my dreams I kept seeing hidden figures lurking around the house, and I saw my father standing in the spotlight, his arms crossed over his chest with his eyes closed.

Come Monday, I woke nervous, so nervous that I made myself a quad-shot mocha before heading to the gym. This morning, Bran was supposed to talk to Kyle, and I hoped that he kept his temper. The last thing we needed was for them to get into it and beat each other senseless.

At the gym, Jon, my trainer, was waiting for me. He put me through my paces. Today included weight training and—for cardio—swimming. I always used a swim cap because chlorine wasn't kind to red hair. Actually, it wasn't kind to anyone's hair or skin. As I pulled myself out of the water, having swum eight laps in the pool, Jon knelt beside me, helping me out and handing me a bath sheet to wrap around my shoulders.

"You're coming along," he said. "I can see the muscle definition better, and you've definitely upped your ability on the weight machines. I'm thinking in a few months you might want to start adding some martial arts to your workouts. Maybe two classes per week?"

I groaned. "Wednesday and Thursday nights are out. I've signed up for an adult education class from the Greater Grimoire Academy. What kind of martial arts?"

"I was thinking judo. I think you have the ability for it," Jon said. He escorted me over to the bench, where we sat down. "So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"We're heading to Port Townsend. My cousin killed himself last month and my aunt needs somebody with her besides my mother. I'm looking forward to it about as much as I'd look forward to another hole in my head. But you know, family ." I paused, wrapping the towel around my shoulders, and then asked, "What are you and Warren doing?"

"We're hosting a Friendsgiving. A number of our friends don't have supportive families, so my mother and Warren's parents come over, and they help us host a huge spread every year. They act as substitute parents for a lot of our younger queer friends whose families have deserted them. In fact, my mom and Louisa—Warren's mother—host a meet-and-greet games night once a month for all of us."

"That's wonderful," I said. "I'm glad you have supportive parents. I don't think my mother would be as accepting if I were gay. Hell, I'm looking at possibly having a poly relationship, and she's not going to like that."

"Well, you do you, boo. Don't ever let anybody or anything try to talk you out of being who you are." He suddenly noticed the ring on my finger and grabbed my hand. "This is one hell of a rock. When were you going to tell me?"

I laughed. "Bran asked me to marry him and I've accepted." Over the preceding weeks, I had talked to Jon a bit about my situation. He knew that I'd been in Kyle's hospital room week after week, waiting for him to wake up.

"What about the wolf?" Jon asked. "Has he remembered anything?"

"That's a long story. I'll tell you later. I still don't know what the outcome's going to be. Anyway, I won't be at the gym the rest of the week. And I tell you right now, I plan on eating my fill of mashed potatoes and pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving. So no scolding me next week."

"Honey, we're all planning on eating our fill. I have another client coming in now, so have a good Thanksgiving and I'll see you next week, Tuesday morning, bright and early." He waved at me as I headed into the showers.

As I was driving home, a text came through from Bran. It was pouring rain, though, and I hadn't hooked up my phone to the hands-free device in my car, so I gritted my teeth and made myself wait to look at it. Once I pulled into the driveway, I parked and—leaving the car running to keep the heater going—I unlocked my phone. Holding my breath, I glanced at the text.

i finished talking to kyle. it got ugly, but i stayed hands off. faron heard, and i'm afraid that the doctors were right. he's at the er right now. i'm heading there to wait with kyle. it's the least i can do. i don't recommend showing up here. it would only compound the issue.

I groaned, leaning my head on the steering wheel. are you sure i can't come to the hospital?

i really think that kyle would lose it. i shouldn't have shown up at the house this morning. you were right—it was a bad idea and i regret it. kyle thinks you sent me and i told him no, but he won't listen. he's on the warpath now, and he's practically foaming at the mouth. i'll text you when i know more.

I turned off the ignition. Crap and more crap. This was bad—so bad. I needed to do a reading, but I was too close to the situation. Gathering my purse and my gym bag, I ducked out into the pouring rain and raced inside, trying to keep myself from getting too wet. I prayed Grams would be home. I needed her now more than ever, but even as I dashed up the steps, I had the feeling that there weren't going to be any easy answers.

Grams glanced at me as I tossed my purse on the kitchen table and slumped in a chair. "Are you all right?"

"No, not really. I got a text from Bran while I was driving home." I sighed, then looked up at her. "Things are bad." I told her what had happened. "I was wondering if you'd do a reading for me?"

She leaned back in her chair. "I can't. Even as you asked it, I heard a distinct no echo in my head. This has to play out however it will."

I walked over to the counter and stared out of the window as I rinsed out my water bottle and refilled it with ice and sugar-free lemonade. "I was afraid of that," I said with a sigh. My phone rang and I glanced at the caller ID. It was Bran.

"Hey," I said, answering. "What's going on?"

"Kyle asked me to leave. Faron's going to be all right, but the doctors say that anything could tip the scales and send him back into a coma. I left. I don't want to make things worse. I feel bad enough as it is."

Numb, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Don't blame yourself," I said. "It wasn't your fault. Faron overheard you and Kyle. You didn't know he was listening. What did you say, anyway?"

"It was mostly Kyle, to be honest. I showed up, and told him I wanted to talk about you. He let me in, but then started yelling at me, telling me he knew that you put me up to it. I defended you—I told him, no, but finally, he shouted that Faron would never be allowed to be with you, that the elders were firm on this, and he forbade you and me from setting foot in his house again. That's when Faron came around the corner of the room, looking confused. He stood there a moment, then collapsed. It was quicker for us to take him to the hospital than to wait for the paramedics, but once we were there, Kyle asked me to leave. I decided it was best if I do."

"Kyle's the one who hurt his brother. If he hadn't shouted at you, Faron wouldn't have overheard." I knew Bran blamed himself, but the whole situation was just fucked up.

"Well, either way, Kyle's not likely to be friendly to you. If you can convince him you didn't send me over, that would be good. But I'm not sure how easy it's going to be." He sighed. "I would love to come over, but I have to get back to work. It's not going to be an easy day."

"What else is going on?"

"Half my crew didn't show because they want the entire week off, and the other half don't want to work at all. Seriously, it's hard to find good help lately. Some of these guys are so lazy that I'll never hire them again."

"Do you think you'll get done this week?" I wanted to talk about anything except Faron right now.

"I think that if we push it, we should be able to finish by Wednesday. Which means I can go to Thanksgiving without worrying about what kind of a mess I'm coming back to. I resorted to offering them more money if they get their asses in to work and if they finish by Wednesday night. It sucks. My mother taught me a strong work ethic when I was young, and I suppose I expect others to abide by the same behavior."

"Yeah, that does suck. I feel the same way. Although my mother wasn't the one who taught me my work ethic. Anyway, I found out more about my father—I read the rest of the journal. I'll tell you about it when I see you."

"Okay. I love you. I'll text you later to see how you're holding up."

Grams and I went shopping for the last of the food we needed. I stopped by the frozen pizza aisle. Grams gave me a long look, but I defiantly opened the freezer door.

"I know, I know. But I've had one hell of a day and all I want is cheap junk for dinner."

"Well, that you have. So pick what you want. I'll get myself a frozen dinner and we'll call it good." She had been extra considerate since I told her what had happened with Bran, Kyle, and Faron. "Do you want dessert?"

I shook my head. "Chips are good. Cheese puffs, the crunchy kind. I want salt." I looked over the frozen pizzas and finally settled on a large meat-eater's special. Pepperoni, sausage, ham, extra cheese, tomato sauce. I added a small can of pineapple chunks to add to it, and then picked out some Fritos, Cheetos, and a bag of ridged potato chips.

After we got home, we sorted out the remaining ingredients for what we had left to make, but my thoughts were awhirl. I slipped Grams's dinner—some sort of chicken parmesan—and my pizza into a heated oven, then sat at the table, snapping the green beans.

I set up my tablet and we watched A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving and Little Women while we ate, and then Dead Poets Society while we made the cranberry sauce, a green bean casserole with mushrooms, and the stuffing. We barely said two words during the evening, but it was a comfortable silence. After we finished and were waiting for the casserole to cook, Fancypants was curled up asleep with Gem and Silver, and I kept glancing at my phone, waiting for Kyle to text, but by ten p.m ., he hadn't said a peep.

I hugged Grams, finally, yawning. "I'm exhausted. I think I'll turn in early."

"You do that—sleep is healing. Go to bed, my dear, and may you have sweet dreams."

"I doubt I can manage that, but I'll try." I kissed her on the forehead and then, followed by Gem and Silver, headed into my bedroom. I showered, then finally sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone. I knew I shouldn't text Kyle, but finally, I gave in.

whatever you think, i did not send bran over. i can't believe you're blaming me—or him—for this. if you hadn't started shouting, faron would be all right. but whatever…i won't come around, but please, let me know he's okay. that's the only thing i ask.

Then, I turned off my phone so it wouldn't disturb my sleep and crawled under the covers. Surprisingly, I fell asleep in minutes, and didn't wake up until morning.