Love, Lies, and Hocus Pocus Allies Read online

  Freda finally took control of the chaos, shooting off orders like a general deploying her troops and breaking Lily’s concentration. She sent Dru to the car for Lily’s bags, Sally to round up the dogs—they were sniffing excitedly at Lily’s open car door, undeterred by the furious hissing coming from within—and the others inside to set the table for supper. Lily watched Jamie as he retreated, trying to figure out what was so different. But her mother distracted her as she began to pull her toward the house and the waiting food.

  At a plaintive meow from inside the car, Lily came back to herself, regaining her head for the first time since the swirl of chaos had descended. “Really, Mother, it’s alright, I remember how to get to the kitchen. I’ll be along in a moment,” she said, extracting herself from her mother’s hold and turning back to the car.

  With the offending canines now safely tied to the front-porch railing, Sir Kipling had ventured down from his perch on the passenger seat headrest where he’d taken refuge from their frenzied yapping. He looked distinctly ruffled. Though the fur along his back now lay flat, his fluffy tail still resembled a bottle brush. If cats could frown, he would have. “While your confidence in my capacity for self-preservation is refreshing, I would prefer, in the future, to be forewarned of threats upon my life,” he said in his most disapproving tone.

  “I do apologize, it slipped my mind.” Lily tried only half-heartedly to hide her grin. She was sorry, it had slipped her mind, and she wasn’t one to laugh at another’s misfortune. That was Sebastian’s purview. Yet only a complete stick-in-the-mud would pass up a chance to chuckle at the expense of her annoyingly smug cat.

  Sir Kipling shot her an irritated look. “If you expect me to put up with these mongrels for two whole days, you had better be prepared to pay the price.”

  “The price?” Lily asked with a raised eyebrow, the urge to smile still threatening to betray her.

  “Salmon. Every day. For a week,” Sir Kipling said decisively.

  “I see. Well, that depends on whether or not you behave yourself.”

  He sniffed. “Behaving is for dogs.”

  “Behaving is for troublemakers, like you. Now, are you going to walk to the house or shall I carry you?”

  “Humph. I have my dignity,” he said, jumping down to the dusty ground and glaring in the direction of the two dogs, both of whom sat at quivering attention, eyes following his every move.

  “You know, you could just stay in the house. They’re outside dogs.”

  “And let them think they have the upper hand? Inconceivable. These are dogs we’re talking about. Besides, I’ll need to inspect things, get the lay of the land.”

  “If you say so,” Lily said, giving up the fight with her facial muscles and letting a grin spread across her face. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” Closing her car door, she headed for the house, feeling in better spirits. At least she wasn’t the only one with problems.

  Suppertime at the Singer house was just as she remembered: loud, chaotic, and delicious. Her mother hadn’t been much of a cook before she remarried. Lily remembered living off grits, fried cabbage, and cold chicken for most of her early childhood. But once Freda had four new mouths to feed, all used to the delights of traditional southern cooking, she’d finally bitten the bullet. With help from enough cookbooks to choke a herd of horses, she’d done what she always did when she put her mind to something: succeeded. Freda could now cook with the best of them and had taught Lily to do the same. Admittedly, Lily’s cooking had become much more cosmopolitan since moving to Atlanta—unlike her mother, she preferred not to smother everything in grease and butter. Thus she was slightly overwhelmed by the abrupt return to all things southern, with a dinner of pork chops, fried chicken, fried okra, collard greens, mashed potatoes, and corn pudding, topped off with a chess pie so sweet you could feel your insides crystallizing as you ate it.

  During the meal she fielded question after question about her job, house, love interests—which she deftly sidestepped—and life in Atlanta. It was similar yet different in important ways from Ursula’s busybody grilling a mere two weeks ago. Her grandmother had only cared about what advantage Lily brought to the LeFay name. The Singer clan, on the other hand, wanted to share in her life, so she made an effort to remain open. Of course, there was the teensy matter of her being a fully-fledged wizard that she had to keep tiptoeing around, glancing toward her mother the whole time.

  Despite some initial awkwardness, she felt herself warming to these familiar strangers, so grown and changed over the years. Their eager joy in every detail she divulged made it clear that they had truly missed her. She’d left her siblings a group of obnoxious adolescents, who’d since blossomed into young adulthood. Dru was as loud and country as you might expect, but well rounded, with a healthy dose of manners no doubt pounded into him by his father, with whom he worked on a daily basis. Sally was the mature one, obviously having taken Lily’s place as their mother’s primary helper. Her good-natured words were employed liberally to keep peace in this family of hard heads and quick tongues, the quickest being Becca’s. She’d broken from the family tradition of farming and was attending the local community college. While Becca had certainly grown out of her snotty brat stage, her new personality as a sarcastic teenager wasn’t much better. Lily decided she and Sir Kipling would get along very well, if only they could understand each other.

  But the most changed was Jamie. The fun-loving boy she remembered was gone. Oh, he joked readily enough with his other siblings. But he barely said a word to her and didn’t ask a single question. Perhaps it was because he’d been so young when she left, he wasn’t used to her now. She hoped the explanation was that simple. Of all her family, she’d been looking forward to seeing Jamie the most. He’d been her little pal, her Jammy boy. While the others had been off raising hell around the farm, she and Jamie used to curl up in a cool corner together while she read to him. Even as he grew into the energetic eight-year-old she remembered, he’d always preferred hanging around Lily and asking incessant questions to climbing on tractors or hunting down frogs in the creek. But now he shied away from her gaze and only murmured responses to the few questions she was able to work in amid the storm of conversation. And that strange feeling kept bothering her. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it reminded her of something.

  Once supper was over, she tried to help with the dishes but was rebuffed by Sally. “You go rest yer feet now, hear?” Sally said, busily gathering up dishes and silverware to take to the kitchen. While Freda had instilled in Lily the importance of “proper” English, she hadn’t managed the same with Lily’s stepsiblings. They took after their father, southern twang rolling off their tongues like honey. So while Sally did the dishes and Tom and Dru headed outside to finish up the evening chores, Freda showed Lily to her room.

  Her room wasn’t technically a bedroom, it was the attic. Being a family of seven in an old farmhouse, they’d had to make do. Growing up, her siblings had shared two of the three bedrooms, her parents occupying the third. Above one end of the house the eaves peaked to make a small attic that got dreadfully hot in the summer but was vastly preferable to sharing a room with her overloud siblings. Now, at least, her parents had moved to the new bedroom downstairs, which meant Dru and Jamie each had their own rooms, with Sally and Becca sharing the third. But the little attic room had been left untouched. As her mother opened the door, she could see all her things were just as she’d left them, though they’d been joined by several piles of boxes. It was an attic, after all.

  “I dusted things up and washed the sheets,” her mother said. “I thought you’d prefer your old room. Though if the heat’s too much, you’re welcome to change your mind. I could make Jamie sleep with Dru and you could have Jamie’s room, or the couch downstairs.”

  “No, this is fine,” Lily assured her, staunchly ignoring the beads of sweat already forming on her forehead. It was worth it for some privacy. Looking around, she saw Dru had already laid her bags
on the bed, though Sir Kipling was nowhere in sight. She briefly wondered if she should go looking for him—she hadn’t heard a peep out of the dogs, so she had no clue what he was up to—but decided against it. If he was going to accompany her in what was quickly becoming a bona fide adventure, she couldn’t constantly worry about him. Either he could take care of himself or he couldn’t. So far he’d handled demons, crazy wizards, a mechanical crow, and more besides with signature grace, so she doubted a couple of excitable dogs would pose much trouble.

  “Well, I’ll leave you to unpack,” Freda said after a moment of awkward silence.

  Lily stopped her with an outstretched hand and a look. “Not so hasty, Mother dear.” She closed the attic door and pulled her mother to the bed, taking a seat beside her. “You aren’t going anywhere until you explain to me why you haven’t told them yet.”

  “Told them what?” her mother asked, avoiding her gaze.

  “About us, that’s what!” Lily said, thoroughly exasperated. “I understand why you kept it from me all those years: to protect me. But now John Faust knows who I am and can easily figure out where I’m from, if he hasn’t already. We need to tell them, for their own safety. What if John Faust shows up one day looking for you, or me? They need to know, and we need to ward the house.”

  Freda opened her mouth to protest, but Lily raised a hand. “I know any magic in a backwater place like this will shine out like a beacon, but he can find us easily enough without it, so there’s no point hiding anymore. You didn’t really stop using magic because you feared it, did you? That’s what he said happened…”

  “No, of course not.” Freda’s sigh was deep and long. “I only stopped to keep us hidden. Since then I’ve grown positively rusty. But I doubt you’ll accept that excuse.” She smiled faintly at her daughter, who smiled back.

  “Not a chance, Mother. I saw you flinging enough magic at that…that man, to know you remember your Enkinim well enough. Madam B. gave me a full rundown of wards to use on the house, and, one way or another, you’re going to help me cast them.”

  “Yes,” Freda said with another sigh, “she warned me she would do that. She agrees with you, of course. Better to tell the truth. I just don’t know how to tell them…after so many years. They won’t believe us.”

  “Of course they won’t, but we have to tell them all the same. And you will be the one to do it, not me. You’re the one who decided to keep it a secret in the first place, and you’re better at explaining things anyway.”

  “I suppose. Perhaps in the morning—”

  “No. Now,” Lily insisted. “No more waiting. No more lies.”

  “Well…about that…”

  “What?” Lily asked suspiciously.

  “I didn’t know for sure, not until yesterday when I got home after using magic for the first time in years. My senses weren’t what they used to be. I felt it as I approached the house, and as soon as I saw him, I knew…” Freda trailed off, worry creasing her brow.

  Lily’s skin tingled in sudden realization and her eyes widened as she stared in disbelief at her mother. “No.”

  “Yes.” Freda insisted with a resigned nod. “Your little brother is a wizard.”

  They agreed it was best not to reveal that particular bombshell just yet as Freda gathered the various family members around the dining room table. Their expressions ranged from curious to confused. The exception was Jamie. His eyes were alight with a keen interest and she caught him staring at her again, though he looked away when their eyes met.

  Once everyone was settled, Freda looked around at each of them, then glanced to the side at Lily. Lily could see her own apprehension mirrored in her mother’s eyes. Without a word, she reached under the table and took hold of her mother’s hand, grasping it firmly. Freda squeezed gratefully, then took a deep breath and began.

  “As I’m sure you guessed after I rushed off unexpectedly to Atlanta, some…interesting things have happened recently. While we’re all thrilled to have Lily back with us, I realize the time has come to tell you all some things I’ve kept secret for a very long time, though your father knows parts of it.” Freda exchanged a look with her husband, who smiled back encouragingly. Lily felt a sudden and unexpected wash of love for her stepfather. He was just a simple farmer, more concerned with the weather than with philosophical discussions or current events. He had no grand words or great intellect, just a solid work ethic and a kind heart. Lily had never truly understood him, but she could see that he loved her mother, and his family, with a selfless depth that a man like John Faust would never comprehend.

  “You all know that I left my first husband—a man named John Faust LeFay—when Lily was very young, then later met and married Tom. What you don’t know is that I left because John…abused us.” There was a sharp intake of breath from Becca, and Dru’s eyes flashed in outrage. But Freda ignored them and went on. “I feared for our lives, so I acquired false identities and hid us for several years, never staying in one place for long.

  “I knew John would never stop looking, so even though I met your father years after, I decided we had to keep living under our assumed identities. I never breathed a word about it to anyone but Tom, and then only after we’d married. He wanted to track down my former husband and have him arrested, but I convinced him to let the matter go.” She smiled faintly in reminiscence, but Lily could only shiver, imagining what John Faust would have done to her stepfather had the man shown up on his doorstep. “Not only would it have been impossible to prove the abuse, as we never reported it at the time, but there was the small matter of living under a false identity for almost a decade. I knew that if John ever found Lily before she came of age, he would be legally entitled to full custody, and I would likely go to jail.” Lily’s stepsiblings looked at each other, brows creasing in confusion, but Tom simply looked weary. “I did, technically, kidnap you,” Freda said in way of explanation, looking at Lily apologetically, who simply shrugged.

  “Once she turned eighteen, she was safe, at least legally, from John,” Freda continued. “But I still never told her the truth. I thought it was for the best, to keep her safe. But, of course, the truth never stays hidden forever. Two weeks ago John somehow found Lily and made contact with her. Having no idea the kind of man he was, because I’d never warned her, Lily went to meet him and he…he abused her much as he had when she was a child. I went with some old friends to get her out and we spent the past week getting reacquainted.

  “Now the truth is out. John knows Lily’s assumed identity and can easily find out mine, as well as where we live. I have no notion what he will do about it, but there’s a possibility he might come here looking for…I don’t know, revenge? Reconciliation? Legal redress? According to the state of Georgia I’m still married to him under my…well my old name, and I just…I don’t know what will come of it.” She let out a long sigh and bent her head forward, resting it in her hands as she massaged her temples.

  Everyone around the table made sympathetic noises and Sally began to rise as if to come over and comfort her mother. But Freda stopped them all with a raised hand. “That isn’t all.” The table fell silent again. Lily glanced at Jamie, whose sharp eyes were locked onto Freda’s face. “Unfortunately this isn’t just a simple matter of spousal abuse and legal complications. Because, you see, John Faust is a very powerful…well he’s a…” Freda halted, at a loss for words, and looked desperately at Lily.

  Lily grimaced, knowing what she had to do even as she cringed inside. Desperately trying to organize her thoughts, she imagined she was giving a lecture on magic to a young child. If she fixed her eyes on the cross-stitch of their farmhouse hanging on the wall behind Sally’s head, maybe she could get through this. “I know this will be hard to believe, but what Mother is trying to say is…um…well, certain people can do…oh dear.”

  Lily took a deep breath. She just had to say it. “Some people are born with the ability to manipulate a form of energy that is most commonly known as magic.” Ther
e was complete silence around the table, and from her peripheral vision she could see growing disbelief on everyone’s face. All except Jamie’s. He was leaning forward in his chair, gaze intent. Lily swallowed, mouth as dry as sandpaper.

  “While it may seem far-fetched, the best way to understand it is that magic is a form of science that modern technology hasn’t yet developed enough to explain. After all, a thousand years ago, primitive people would have considered planes, cell phones, and computers to be magic. But today they are commonplace tools that operate within the laws of nature. The point is, some people are able to sense, and use, this energy to do some rather…magical-seeming things. These people are called wizards. I”—she faltered for a moment, heart pounding, but then forged onward—“I am a wizard. So is Mother. I’ve spent the last seven years learning how to use magic. John Faust is also a wizard. A very, very powerful one. He’s not afraid to use magic to get what he wants. That’s why, I assume, mother never went to the police. In any case, he used it on us a long time ago and did so again last week.” Lily’s vision was starting to blur, she was staring at the cross-stitch so hard. Freda took their joined hands from where they rested on her lap and laid them on the table, putting her other hand on top of Lily’s.

  “He plans to do some bad things, and I have to figure out a way to stop him. I don’t know what will happen. But he might come here and try to hurt you all, so Mother and I are going to put protective wards on you and the house. I can imagine how confusing this must be. I couldn’t believe it either when I first found out. But you will have to trust us. Our lives may depend on it.” She finished, feeling very hot and prickly. She couldn’t bring herself to look at anyone, so kept her gaze on the opposite wall.