Larissa nodded with mock agreement. “No. But should death accidently befall her . . .” She glanced at me over her shoulder as she sashayed down the wooden steps. “Are we in agreement, my dear?”
My spine stiffened. I followed her to our front walk with my sisters flanking my sides. I barely managed to keep from pouncing on Larissa right then and there. High school had arrived at our front door and the Mean Girls made it clear they didn’t like us. And this time they’d put it in writing. “Yes, we’re in agreement.”
“Very well. Three days. Three challenges.” Larissa gave me the once-over as a rush of magic fanned out her skirt. Something about her stare made me think she was taking in more than my outer appearance. “Beast,” she stated. “Self,” she said meeting my eyes. “Protection,” she added with a grin.
“Beast. Self. Protection,” the coven chanted.
There was a long, dramatic pause as we waited for an explanation, or at the very least some Cliffs Notes. Genevieve scanned the members of her coven. She’d chanted along with her sisters, but she didn’t seem happy about it. “You ask a great deal of your clan,” she said simply.
Larissa whipped her head to face her. “You speak out of line, Sister Genevieve.”
“I don’t believe I do, Larissa.”
I didn’t know much about witch etiquette. But I did know they were supposed to address each other as “sister” or by title, especially in public. Larissa and Genevieve’s magic hadn’t clashed, but I could sense it brewing to the surface. It would soon boil over into a bloody, messy brouhaha, a brouhaha I had no desire to be a part of. Just because Genevieve didn’t appear to like Larissa it didn’t mean she was on our side.
Without bothering to glance away, the dark-haired Genevieve spoke again. “Everyone, return to your vehicles. It’s time to depart.”
Car doors slammed shut and engines roared to life. One by one, the Jettas sped away.
Only the two head witches remained. Larissa smiled at the other witch with all the pleasantness of a great white shark in the company of a baby seal. “The day will soon come when you, too, shall challenge me. Just like Celia, you will lose, Genevieve.”
“The day will come.” Genevieve’s voice remained soft and silky. “And I will not lose.”
Larissa laughed, turning in circles like Julie Andrews on top of a freaking mountain.
Before she disappeared in a crash of thunder that propelled us onto our snow-ridden lawn.
I quickly rolled off of poor Emme and crouched to attack as the rear side window of our sedan snapped and crackled. A chink spread from one end to the other. It continued onto the passenger side window, spelling out words in an ear-splitting pitch like a saw cutting through metal.
Three days.
My sisters and I staggered to our feet, stunned and more shaken than I cared to admit. Larissa didn’t have to blow out our eardrums, wreck our car, and go all Linda Blair on us. But I supposed when eye of newt and toe of frog-fight fests were concerned, it paid to be over the top.
Genevieve dusted off the snow from her dress and rose on wobbly legs, using her staff for support. She staggered to our driveway, paying no mind to the chunks of charred sidewalk littering the street, or the pizza-sized crevice where Larissa had stood. Her lovely eyes fell upon me before nodding gracefully. “May strength, will, and courage carry you through your task.”
We watched with opened mouths as Genevieve spun gracefully, erasing the darkness of night with her gentle breeze.
“Damn,” Taran said.
Chapter Five
Beast. Self. Protection. We had no clue what that meant exactly. We played around with the words, even did some Googling, trying to prepare for anything and everything. Three days. What did that mean? Would each challenge last three days or would they start in three days time? I wished I’d asked more questions, exchanged digits, requested a rulebook—something. But I hadn’t. The little we knew about supernaturals wasn’t enough, and now it was too late.
Danny appeared stunned stupid when I’d phoned him following the witches’ disappearing act. He didn’t speak for a solid minute. “Move, Celia,” he’d finally insisted. “For the love of all things holy, just move. You can come stay with me in Palo Alto.” I heard him rifling through papers. “I’ve done a little research on the Tahoe Clan. This time of year they practice making it rain in Meek’s Bay. They sometimes hole up for days chanting. If the majority of the clan is distracted, maybe it will give you and your sisters the chance to escape.”
“No matter where we go, there’ll just be another Larissa telling us we don’t belong. We’ll always be different, Danny. There’s nothing we can do about that. But that doesn’t make it okay for anyone to push us around or force us from our home.”
The silence that had followed told me he agreed. But his tone when he’d spoke also echoed his fear. “Celia, I don’t want you to die.”