"You called?" he said, and my heart filled with sunlight. "Let me in—it's freezing out here."
It worked. I thought in awe. I called him with my thoughts. Magick.
I opened the door and moved over. He slid onto the front seat next to me, and it was amazingly natural to reach out, to feel his arms come around me.
"What's the matter?" he said, his voice muffled against my hair. "What's going on?" He held me away from him and searched my tear-blotched face with his eyes.
"I'm adopted!" I blurted out. "This morning I told my mom that I'm a blood witch, so she must be, and my dad, and my sister. They said no, It wasn't true. So I ran downstairs to see my birth certificate, and it had another woman's name—not my mother's."
I started crying spin, even though I was embarrassed to have him see me like this. He pulled me closer and held my head to his shoulder. It was so comforting that I stopped crying again almost immediately.
"That's a hard way to find out." He kissed my temple, and a tiny shiver of pleasure raced up my spine. It's a miracle I thought: He still loves me, even today. It wasn't a dream.
He pulled back, and we looked at each other. In the hazy light I couldn't get over how beautiful he was. His skin was smooth and tan, even in November. His hair was thick beneath my fingers, dark and streaked with warm shades the color of walnuts. His eyes were surrounded by blunt, black lashes, with irises of a gold so fiery, they almost seamed to radiate heat.
I felt self-conscious as I realized he was examining me the same way I examined him. A tiny smile quirked the corner of his lips. "Left in a hurry, did your?"
That was when I realized I was still in my oversize football jersey and an ancient pair of my dad's long johns, complete with flap in front. A large pair of brown, furry bear-feet slippers were on my feet. Cal reached down and tickled their claws. I thought about the silky matching outfits that Bree wears to sleep in, and with a pang and an indrawn breath I remembered she'd told me that she and Cat had gone to bed. I searched his eyes, wondering if it was true, wondering if I could bear knowing for sure.
But he was here now. With me.
"You're the best thing I've seen all morning," Cal said softly, stroking my arm. "I'm glad you called me. I missed you last night, after I went home."
I looked down, thinking of him lying in his big, romantic bed, with curtains fluttering and candles flickering all around. He had been thinking of me as he lay there.
"Listen—how did you know how to call me? Did you read about it in a book?"
"No," I said, thinking back. "I don't think so. I was just sitting here, miserable, and I thought if you were here, I'd feel better, and then this little rhyme came into my head, so I said it."
"Huh," Cal said thoughtfully.
"Was I not supposed to?" I asked, confused. "Sometimes things just come into my head like that."
"No, it's okay," said Cal. "It just means you're strong. You have ancestral memories of spells. Not every witch does." He nodded, thinking.
"So tell me more," he said. "Your parents never told you about this before, your being adopted?" He kept his arm on the back of the seat, smoothing my heir and rubbing my neck.
"No." I shook my head. "Never. And you'd think they would have—I'm so different from them."
Cal cocked his head, looking at me. "I've never met your folks," he said. "But you don't look much like your sister, that's true. Mary K. looks sweet." He smiled. "She's pretty."
A hot jealousy started to burn in my chest.
"You don't look sweet," Cal went on. "You look serious. Deep. Like you're thinking. And you're more striking than pretty. You're the kind of girl that you don't notice is beautiful until you get real close." His voice trailed off, and he brought his head closer to mine. "And then all of a sudden it hits you," he whispered. "And you think. Goddess, make her mine."
His lips touched mine again, and my thoughts whirled. I wrapped my arms around Cal's shoulders and kissed him as deeply as I knew how, pulling him closer. All I wanted was to be with him, to never be apart.
Minutes passed in which I heard only our breathing, our lips coming together and parting, the crinkle of the vinyl seat as we moved to be closer. Soon Cal was lying on top of me, his weight pressing me into the seat. His hand was stroking up and down my side, along my ribs and curving around my hip. Then it was under the hem of my jersey, warm against my breast and shock waves went through me. "Stop!" I said, almost afraid. "Wait." My voice seemed to echo in the quiet car. Instantly Cal pulled his hand away. He held himself up, looking into my eyes, then leaned back against the driver's door. He was breathing fast.
I was mortified. You idiot, I thought. He's almost eighteen! He's definitely had sex. Maybe even with Bree, a tiny voice added.
I shook my head. "Sorry," I said, trying to sound casual. "It was just a surprise."
"No, no, I'm sorry," he said. He reached out and took my hand, and I was mesmerized by its warmth, its strength. "You call me here, and I jump on you. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry." He raised my fingers to his mouth and kissed them. "The thing is, I've been wanting to kiss you ever since I met you." He smiled slightly.
I calmed down. "I've wanted to kiss you, too," I admitted.
He smiled. "My witch," he said, running a finger down my cheek, leaving a thin trail of heat. "Now, how did you tell your mother that you're a blood witch?"
I sighed. "This morning she found a pile of my Wicca books, magick books, on the front porch. She stormed into my room, yelling at me, saying they were blasphemous." I sounded more together than I felt remembering that awful scene. "I thought she was being so hypocritical—I mean, if I'm a blood witch, then she and my dad would have to be, too. Right?"
"Pretty much," said Cal. "Definitely, with someone who has powers as strong as yours, both your parents would have to be."
I frowned. "What about only one parent?"
"An ordinary man and a female witch can't conceive a baby," Cal explained. "A male witch can get an ordinary woman pregnant, but it's a conscious thing. And their baby would have very weak powers at best, or possibly none at all. Not like you."
I felt like I had accomplished something: I was a powerful witch.
"Okay," Cal said. "Now, why were your books on the front porch? Were you hiding them?"
"Yes," I said bitterly. "At Bree's house. This morning she left them on my porch. Because you and I kissed last night."
"What?" Cal asked, a dark expression crossing his face.
I shrugged. "Bree really wanted you. Wants you. And when you kissed me last night, I know she felt that I had betrayed her." I swallowed and looked out the window."l did betray her," I said quietly. "I knew how she felt about you."
Cal's eyes dropped. He picked up a long strand of my hair and twined it around his hand, ower and over. "How do you feel about me?" he asked after a moment.
Last night he had told me he loved me. I looked at him, seeing past him to the thin November sunlight that was burning away the fog. I breathed deeply, trying to slow the sudden, rapid patter of my pulse. "I love you," I said. My voice came out a husky whisper.
Cal glanced up and caught my gaze. His eyes were very bright. "I love you, too. I'm sorry that Bree's hurt, but just because she has feelings for me doesn't mean we're going to be together."
Did that stop you from sleeping with her? I almost asked him, but I couldn't quite bring myself to. I wasn't sure I really wanted to know.
"And I'm sorry Bree is taking it out on you," he said. He paused. "So your mom found the books and yelled. You thought she was hiding being a witch herself, right?"
"Yes. Not just her but my father and my sister." I said. "But my parents went crazy when I said that. I've never seen them so upset. And I said, so, what? I'm adopted? And they just these horrible expressions on their faces. They wouldn't answer me. And suddenly I had to know. So I ran downstairs and looked at my birth certificate."