How had I let it get so bad? I knew I was behind, but in all those conversations I had shared with the Professor not once did he make it seem like my days at Raven’s Hall were numbered. I couldn’t blame him, though, could I? It wasn’t his fault I wasn’t showing up to class. He was just doing his job. And I guessed I wasn’t so much dismayed that I would never get my degree, either. I was sure that, if I wanted to, I could get back in and continue. I was just shocked and angry that I had been expelled at all.
So I drove around for an hour before deciding to go and see Damien, and he was in his downtown apartment watching TV when I got to him. I felt bad trampling over his free time with my problems, but I needed him. I needed to vent, to get things off my chest, and Eliza already had too much on her plate to listen to me vent.
“He even said they’d been trying to contact me for ages,” I said, “But I’ve had no emails, no phone calls and no letters—besides the one I got today.”
“I’m sorry,” Damien said. “The university is being a dick about this. How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, I just can’t believe I’ve been expelled. Besides the last few weeks of absences I’ve been, like, the perfect student.”
“I know, look, we just have to figure this out. No expulsion is final. You can appeal to the school, make your case, and maybe they’ll reinstate you.”
Despite the dirt my anger and shock had kicked up into my logical mind I hadn’t lost sight of the fact that reinstatement was probably achievable. No expulsion was final. They could all be appealed. But that wasn’t where my mind was at. I wasn’t thinking about going back to class. What I couldn’t understand was where all those emails and letters had gone—and what in the world made the professor tell me that I had done it to myself?
I wasn’t expecting to hear that.
“Do you know what the process for appeal is?” I asked.
“I don’t,” Damien said, “But you said you finished all your assignments right?”
“Yeah, I did.”
“What more can they ask you to do but hand them in and promise never to miss class again?”
“I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.”
“Exactly. We’ll fill out some forms, hand in your assignments, shake hands with the professor, and get you back in class. But we’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yeah, you’re in no position to talk to anyone at the university right now. And I don’t think I’d be able to stop you from hurling the professor from one side of the hall to the other with your mind.”
“I guess not.” I chuckled at the thought. “Thank you. You really know how to bring me back home, don’t you?”
Damien smiled. I loved his smile. He had such nice teeth and secret dimples which would only form when he smiled. I cupped his face in my hands and kissed his lower lip. Damien held me as we kissed, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to float away with him and forget about this life, if only for a few moments.
I hadn’t had a lot of time with Damien of late and I would have been lying if I said I didn’t miss him. His smile, his warmth, his laugh, touch and kiss. My hands searched the insides of his shirt. I went to pull it up but he stopped me. “We can’t,” he whispered.
“What? Why not?”
“Because we’re going to Eliza’s tonight. It’s Yule. Remember?
“Oh shit.” I had completely forgotten. Tonight was Yule; the longest night of the year. Eliza had spent the last few days preparing mulled wine, spiced cider and making all kinds of festive treats and snacks for the occasion. How could I have forgotten? We had been looking forward to it all week. All month, even.
I shot upright. “I have to get the Yule log from my place. And my dress! I have to call Frank, too. I don’t think I gave him the address. Fuck!”
Damien was smiling again.
“What are you so happy about?” I asked.
“Nothing. I’m just glad this has made you happy.”
“How could I not be happy? This is perfect. Screw the expulsion. Tonight is Yule. Time to rock out, right?”
I believed what I said when the words left my lips. Tonight was a night to be happy about the things that I had, and not fret the things I didn’t have. I still had friends, family, and health. The thought of spending the night with people I cared about was enough to pull me out of that pit of anger I was letting myself get sucked into.
Do good things and good things come back to you. That was part of the Witch’s creed. I had been expelled from Raven’s Glen, but the expulsion happened on the night of Yule. The news didn’t screw the holiday up; the holiday was there to soften the blow. Karma was a living, breathing thing, and I felt it today more than ever.
I kissed Damien on the lips again. “I have to go,” I said. “Get changed, come to my house, and we’ll catch a cab to Eliza’s.”
He didn’t get a chance to object or set conditions, or even ask me about times. I was out the door in nanoseconds, my heart singing with delight.
Forget Raven’s Hall; tonight was going to be special.
Chapter Eleven
Spending the rest of my afternoon at home getting gussied up for our Yuletide dinner was the best therapy. Better than hot chocolate, better than talking to someone about what was going on in my mind, and better than sex. Well, sex may have helped, but with the way I was looking tonight, sex was in the cards anyway.
Oh yes.
I was wearing a little green number I had bought for the occasion. Add to that a splash of fruity perfume, red lips and eyes, and a black choker and Damien would be eating out of the palm of my hand. He had been a good boyfriend earlier when he took me in and made me feel better. So tonight I was going to show him how much I appreciated his patience.
The cab arrived at about 4pm with Damien inside. I grabbed the herbs, incense, and the assortment of deli-meats I had bought the day before and hurried to the car. Damien, who looked all kinds of dapper in his black buttoned shirt and dark jeans, helped me load everything—including the Yule log, which I had to run back inside and get—into the car and we got underway.
“Wow, you look… amazing,” Damien said.
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it.”
He leaned over to me, drank in a whiff of my perfume, and kissed the part where jaw met my neck. Playful tingles raced through me.
“What’s that about?” I asked.
“Nothing. You just smell delicious.” His lips traveled to my earlobe. His teeth followed. It was starting to get pretty warm inside that cab.
“Are you going to behave tonight?” I asked.
“Only for as long as I have to,” he said.
“Well, behave and I’ll let you take this dress off me tonight.”
“That sounds good to me,” he said, relinquishing my earlobe.
“Thank you for giving me my ear back. I really am glad you like the dress. I bought it with you in mind.”
“That’s interesting, because I’ve got something for you too.”
“Oh?” I cocked my head to the side.
Damien placed the back of his closed fist on my lap. A sliver of light crept through the crack in his fingers, and when he opened his palm a trio of tiny glittering orbs shimmered into existence. The orbs threw little glints of silver light all around so that the back seat of the cab looked more like an indoor swimming pool. I wondered if the cabbie had even noticed.
“When did you learn how to do that?” I asked.
“It wasn’t difficult,” he said, “I’ll teach you.” Our voices were low.
“I’ve seen them before… I woke up once and they were all around me. Then I called them once during a cleansing ritual… but I’ve never been able to call them since. How are you doing it?”
“All in good time,” he said, smiling.
The orbs had a mind of their own, each possessed of its own entity, dancing and floating between fingers. One climbed on the back of my hand and glided up to my wrist, leaving a cold,
prickly sensation where it went. All of a sudden, a group of them floated to the palm of my hand and arranged themselves into a heart shape causing my worries to fall away like ashes on a breeze.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“So much better,” I said. “I had time to think at home, and it’s like, I can be mad about this or just… fuck it.”
I prodded the heart shape in my palm with my finger and several slivers crawled up my other hand. They were brave little things.
“That’s a good attitude to have,” Damien said.
“I can’t change what’s happened. At least not right now. So what’s the point in turning it over in my mind? I have more important things to do tonight, like enjoy the company of my best friends and make sure you and Eliza have the best Yule.”
Damien smiled a warm smile. He looked so handsome. I tucked a strand of his long hair behind his ear and returned the smile. “There,” I said. “Now you’re the girl.”
“Oh sure.”
The orbs floated to the ceiling of the cab and disappeared through it, as if called by some unknown force. “Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know. I have no idea where they even come from. I just know how to call them.”
“That’s so amazing.”
“Hey, no one can throw things around a room like you can, or start fires with their minds like you can. That’s pretty amazing.”
“You’d think that, but it scares me sometimes.”
The cab ground to a halt, ending our conversation.
“Six fifty,” said the cabbie.
“I’ve got this one,” I said, paying the man before Damien could protest. Damien stepped out of the cab with the bags and I followed him out to the curb.
Eliza’s house was the only one in the neighborhood not decked out with shiny Christmas lights, streamers and statues. She had decorated it in her own, humble way, though. A holly wreath hung from the front door, mistletoe was dangling from the porch and, off to the side, a basket full of fresh fruit had been tucked under a blanket offering visitors something sweet as a welcome gift.
Understated and personal. Perfect.
“Nice neighborhood,” Damien said. He had never been to Eliza’s place before.
“Lots of kids,” I said, “So it’s pretty friendly.”
“Eliza’s house kinda sticks out, though, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. I think the decoration’s modest, but it does the trick.”
“Sticking true to the old roots.”
“As it should be,” Frank said. His lanky form came in to view from down the street. “I hate how commercialized this whole holiday is anyway.”
“You and millions of other people,” Damien said.
“Let’s not get into that, okay?” I said to both men, “Leave the politics at the door. There will be nothing but cheer and happiness tonight.”
“Alright,” Frank said, “I promise I’ll tone it down. But I’m not happy about it. She should love me for me.”
“And she will… but only if we give you up in small doses.”
Frank looked like an ultra-rich, fluffy, strawberry cheesecake. I loved cheesecake, but I was partial. The cheesecake and I got along. We learned from each other and made each other laugh. I couldn’t get enough of the cheesecake. Others, though, couldn’t handle more than a few bites before realizing it was too rich for them. And then what happens? They would push the plate away and ask for the check. I didn’t want Eliza to push Frank away and ask for the check.
Frank was here to stay.
The saving grace, though, was what Frank was wearing. Wrapped around his skinny, lanky form was a cream sweater, a red scarf, skinny black jeans, thick—steel-capped—boots, and even a studded belt. And did I detect lip-gloss on his lips? Maybe it was chap-stick, but whatever it was, it made his lips look fuller and shinier.
Frank had full lips and Damien had the killer lashes. I, however, didn’t have either. Why were both boys prettier than me?
“Cute basket,” Frank said, lifting the basket and checking out the fruit beneath.
Please let this go well, I thought as I rang the doorbell.
After a few moments of waiting, Evan opened the door with a smile. “Hey,” he said, “Welcome, guys. Come on in.”
“Hey Evan,” I said, stepping inside. The delicious, heady aroma of freshly baked cookies sailed out of the front door like a warm breath. “That smells great. Hazelnut?”
“You bet. Eliza’s been stuck in the kitchen for ages.”
She must have heard my voice, though, because Eliza broke out of the kitchen with a squeal and bee-lined for a hug. I had put my hands up and yell “Flour!” to stop her forward motion. She was covered in it! Shirt, pants, nose, cheeks, and hair.
“Damn,” I said, “Did you save some flour for the cookies?”
“Oh hush, at least I haven’t burnt them,” she said, settling for a light, dusty kiss on the cheek.
“It was one time!” I said.
“Yeah and you never made any again because you suck at baking cookies.”
Eliza gave Damien a hug and offered Frank her hand, which he shook with grace. They exchanged pleasantries at the door, and Eliza invited them in. “Come on in and make yourselves at home,” she said, “Evan will get you guys a drink. Amber, join me in the kitchen?”
I removed my Mac, hung it on one of the hooks by the front door and followed Eliza into the kitchen. Damien tried to steal a glance of what I was wearing but he wasn’t fast enough; Evan was quick at herding them into the living room. Good. I wanted him to wait.
“Smells good in here,” I said.
Eliza opened the oven and a tasty heat billowed out. Cookies filled with chocolate spread, cinnamon, nutmeg, hazelnut…
“Doesn’t it?” Eliza said, “Of course it does. I’m the one making the cookies.” She took a whiff and smiled, proud of her accomplishment.
“They smell so good. I can’t wait to—”
Eliza shut me up with a raised finger, wolf whistled, and said “Well look at you.” She hadn’t noticed what I was wearing until that moment.
“What?” I asked.
“What yourself. I’ve never seen you wear anything this provocative. I’ve gotta tell you, if you’ve come here to seduce me—flattered though I am—you’re gonna have trouble. I’m not feeling very sexy these days.”
“Oh come on,” I said, “You look fantastic. You’re glowing!”
“That’s the same line every pregnant woman gets fed when they start getting big.”
“Don’t do that to yourself, okay?” I said, approaching, “You’re gorgeous, and you’re glowing. And that’s a real compliment, Missy.”
Eliza smiled, her ice blue eyes gleaming against the bright light above us. “Alright, fine. But I can’t promise I won’t be checking you out tonight. Or that I won’t cop a feel.”
“And I can’t promise I’ll stop you. I really need tonight.”
“Is everything okay?”
“No, no… everything’s fine,” I lied, “I’m just stressed.”
I had no intention of bringing up my expulsion. Not here. Not tonight. I knew Eliza would understand and she would probably spend the whole night trying to cheer me up or help me deal with it, but I didn’t want that. This was a celebration, not a support group, and I wanted to keep it that way. Although, I really did want to tell her; Eliza would know what to say. More so than Damien, I would admit. She got me.
Still, not telling her was a good idea. We spent some time in the kitchen while the guys went about the business of setting up the dining table. They arranged the cutlery and cups, set the table cloth down, sorted out the chairs, and made sure the area was ready to receive the bountiful feast of pulled pork, stuffed turkey, and Lamb’s Wool Eliza had put all her energy into cooking. She had become quite the industrious little chef in the last few months, although she had had the turkey prepared for her at the market.
Who could blame her? I wouldn’t even
know where to begin with a turkey.
But I did my part with the incense, the log, and even prepared the wassail—the mulled cider—this time without the help of the Dagda’s cauldron. I was sure it wouldn’t count as an abuse of powers if we had invoked the Dagda to help with the beverage we would be drinking and hurling at trees tonight, but I didn’t want to push it. Not after having already used the ritual once this month.
Eliza swept into the kitchen and took a whiff of the boiling pot of cider brewing in front of me. “Smells good,” she said. “Apple?”
“And sugar, cinnamon, and ginger. Look, two pots. One with alcohol and one without: just for you.”
Eliza awed. “That’s sweet,” she said, planting me a light kiss on the cheeks.
“You’re welcome. How much longer until sundown?”
“About a half an hour,” she said.
“Then it’s time.”
“Yes it is. Should I tell the guys, or should you?”
“You’d better go. They’d think twice about hating on a pregnant girl for coming between them and their hungry bellies.”
Eliza nodded and headed out into the main room to ready the rest of the Wiccans present. The guys all knew that tonight wasn’t just about eating and drinking. Just like Mabon, there was a ritual to be done. We had thanks to give and a Dark Mother to venerate.
And she liked this particular ritual to be done just after sunset.
Chapter Twelve
"From the darkness is born the light,” I said, “From void, fulfillment emerges. The darkest night of the year is at the threshold. Open now the door, and honor the darkness."
The sun had set. Damien, Eliza, Frank and Evan were surrounding me. The altar Eliza had set up in her backyard for this ritual was perfect; eleven stones marked the extremities of a circle and four candles represented the cardinal directions; north, south, east and west. On the altar—the same oaken plinth we had used for Mabon—sat a tall golden candle and a large plate with a pentacle embedded into the ceramic.