The Witch's Graduation

%%%

Steve walked back up to the counter and laid down the pad of paper. Five pages were full of information in his neat handwriting. Claire flipped through it and whistled, drawing momentary attention from the other patrons, who were thumbing through herb books and checking out prayer crystals.

"Pretty thorough," she smiled at him. "What about ID?"

"Driver's License and Social Security Card," he said, laying them on the counter. "I tried to get a copy of my birth certificate before we moved last time, but I was too slow. It's probably sitting in the dead-letter office in Muskogee."

"Health insurance?"

Steve grimaced. "Grant hates Obamacare with a passion. I'm pretty sure he paid the penalty last year rather than participate in a system which gives birth control to women."

"Idiot," commented Claire.

Steve nodded. "Whatever he did, I'm uninsured right now. Hopefully that changes tomorrow."

"Okay," Claire said. "I think we have enough to start out with. When I get some info I will let you know." She glanced down at the book Steve held in his other hand. "Kushiel's Dart? Really?"

Steve looked at the book. "What's wrong with it?"

Claire shook her head. "Nothing is wrong with it." She hesitated, then plunged forward. "Carey's writing is very...sensual. She has a gift for it." Her hand came up and covered Steve's, thumb rubbing gently along the knuckles of his hand. "But some of the more...intimate...scenes can be disturbing, especially to someone who...to a..."

"To what, Claire?" asked Steve. Did she think that he was a complete innocent?

"To someone who hasn't...who isn't used to..."

Steve covered Claire's hand with his own. How nice, he thought, to touch someone without being afraid.

"I'm not a virgin, Claire," he said, then flushed hotly. Did I really say that? "And I've read sexy scenes in books before. Granted, it was almost always in the library where Calvin couldn't find me, but I'm aware that some authors treat their characters as adults. Heck, I approve of it."

"Okay then. Don't say I didn't warn you. You just might find some of the stuff a bit graphic, especially considering your history with violence."

Suddenly a pulse of energy swept through her. Her cleft moistened and she had to restrain herself from grinding her mons against the counter. Across from her, she saw Steve pale, then flush suddenly as their hands clasped together. She knew without looking that he was gloriously aroused in his jeans, and closed her eyes against the jolt of desire.

Thank the Goddess that Aggie has already left, she thought blindly.

"What the hell was that?" Steve breathed softly.

"Power," she replied, then bit her tongue, cursing herself internally.

"Power? What do you mean? What kind of power?" he asked.

With a pain that was almost physical, she pulled her hand away from his. "I'll talk to you about it later," she said shortly, hating the hurt look she brought to his eyes. "I have a store to run."

%%%

Several miles away, Calvin Grant was entering a branch of the Des Moines Police Department.

"Can I help you?" the desk sergeant asked.

Grant took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. He hated this place, with its stink of sin. Who knew how many whores and thieves had walked through here?

"I would like..." he stopped and started again, his voice firm. "I would like to file a missing person's report."

The sergeant nodded and pulled a form from a drawer. "Yes, sir. Let me get some information from you and we'll go on from there. Your name, sir?"

"Calvin Grant."

"And the name of the missing individual?"

"My adopted son. Steven Johnson."

The sergeant's hand froze in the act of writing. "Did you say Steven Johnson, sir?" she asked.

"Yes. Do you know something? Has something happened to him?" Grant's voice was fearful.

The woman's face was blank. "You could say that," she said. She picked up her phone and dialed an extension. "One moment, sir. Lieutenant Rawlings? Yes, ma'am. I have an individual named Calvin Grant here about Steven Johnson. I think you handled his case earlier today? Yes. I'll send him straight back." She hung up the phone and looked at Grant. "Lieutenant Rawlings will see you right away, sir. Second office on the right."

As Grant left, Sergeant Angela Carmody made a spitting sound between her teeth. "Slimebag," she muttered, wishing she could sit in on Grant's interview with the lieutenant.

%%%

Grant knocked on the frame of the door. In the office, a small thin woman with gray hair looked up from a pile of paperwork. Her face was grim and unsmiling.

"Reverend Grant, I assume?"

"Yes. The lady out front tells me you might know something about my son."

"Your son," she mused. "Yes, I know quite a bit about the young man. And I am interested in knowing more. Which is why I have put in a call to the Department of Child Services in Charleston, West Virginia, inquiring about your adoption of Steven Augustus Johnson, Reverend Grant."

Grant froze. "What are you talking about?" he quavered.

Rawlings threw a file down on the desk in front of him. Clipped to the front were a series of polaroid pictures. They showed a young man's back, covered in weals and bruises.

Rawling's voice was as cold and unforgiving as death. "Steven came here earlier today, escorted by his new landlady. Apparently he had to run away from you, because even at age nineteen, he feared for his safety in case he tried to leave your house openly. It is only at his urging that I am not charging you with assault, Reverend.

"But it gives me great pleasure to serve you with this restraining order. You are forbidden to come within one hundred yards of Steven Johnson, or the residence in which he now lives. Please read the fine print carefully. I want to be sure you understand the penalties for violating the order."

Grant's vision blurred with a blood-red haze of rage. "You filthy slut! How dare you speak to me that way!" He started forward, fist raised.

Rawlings slid from around her desk, supple as a snake. Without knowing how, he suddenly found his right wrist bound in an iron grip, and his face being ground into the wall.

"Careful, Reverend," a voice hissed into his ear. "We wouldn't want you to commit assault on a police officer, would we? Would we?" the voice asked again, as his arm was twisted further up his back. Grant shook his head frantically.

"Now. Listen close, pig. I'm going to let go. And you're going to pick up that restraining order, and then you're going to walk out of here like a good little boy. And I'll never see your ugly face again. Will I?"

Grant shook his head again. Slowly, he was let go. Shooting a venomous look at Rawlings, he slowly picked up the restraining order. Even more slowly, he carefully tore it in half before shoving the pieces in his pocket. He then turned on his heel and stalked out of the police station, his head throbbing in humiliation.

They must pay. They must pay. They must pay.

Chapter 4

Supper that night was leftover roast and vegetables. Steve brought in some radishes from the garden, which made a nice, spicy garnish.

"Thanks for weeding the garden, man," said John. "It's been our job," he continued, nodding at Susanna, "ever since we got old enough to know the difference between weeds and veggies. Goddess knows that it saves us money at the grocery store, but it gets tiresome after about twelve years. Especially when you don't enjoy eating some of the plants you're weeding."

"Really?" asked Steve curiously. "What don't you like?"

"Oh Goddess," muttered Eleanor, who had been there when Claire and Steve got back from the store, and who had stayed over for dinner.

"Tomatoes," said John. "They're disgusting. All slimy and gross." He shuddered. "Gack."

"What about you, Ellie? Don't tell me you like everything," said Steve.

"Yeah, Ellie," teased John. "How about a nice dish of fried eggs, with deviled eggs on the side?"

"You suck," said Eleanor flatly as Susanna and Claire laughed. "You are a horrible little boy and Mom should have drowned you when you were born. Eggs," she said, turning to Steve, "are a practical joke played on humanity by evil spirits, and are proof there is no all-powerful divine being. If there was," she finished, "she wouldn't have allowed such an abomination."

"Claire?" asked Steve.

"I'll never tell. And since I make the menu around here, no one will know what I don't like."

"What about that time we ordered pizza with green olives, and you picked them all off?" asked Susanna.

"That was on pizza," explained Claire. "Some things aren't just wrong. They're sins. Green olives and pineapple on pizza are examples."

Steve nodded. "I can agree with that." He took another bite of gravy-soaked potato. "Good grief, Claire, this is fantastic. If I keep eating all my meals here I'm going to get all gross and fat."

Beside Steve, Eleanor smirked. "Yes," she said, boldly running her eyes up his skinny body. "I can tell that you're really letting yourself go. Look at the gut on you. Disgusting.

"It's hopeless, Mom," she said, turning to Claire. "The man is beyond saving. When he keels over from a heart attack in the basement, we'll need a forklift to get him out."

As she spoke, she dropped her hand on his and smiled. Steve became, suddenly, intensely aware of her body beside his. Her skin was very pale, and the black waterfall of her hair fell in dark waves to the middle of her back. Tentatively, he smiled back, and his thumb closed gently around her fingers.

Claire cleared her throat and they both jumped guiltily. Ellie blushed and concentrated on finishing her meal. Steve did the same, but could not help sneaking glances at her until she left for home.

%%%

"Eleanor, I think you should stay away for a couple of days," said Claire quietly. She had followed her oldest daughter out the front door, and they were standing together near Eleanor's car.

Eleanor tensed, prepared to argue, but Claire cut her off. "I know what you're going to say. That there is no harm in it. That you like him. That if you had met under different circumstances, without his power drawing you towards him, you might had seen him as a potential boyfriend.

"And I agree. He is a sweet young man who has the potential to be a formidable member of the coven. But we have to be careful. If you take him as a lover and then we reveal ourselves, he could take it is the worst sort of betrayal. That we are trying to trap him.

"When he joins us, it has to be with his eyes open and no secrets between us."

"Even the fact that John has had sex with five of his female relatives, and is actively trying to impregnate at least two?" Eleanor asked sarcastically.

"Even that," Claire replied calmly. "Granted, it will be one of the last things we tell him before we ask him to join us. But we won't keep anything from him."

Eleanor tapped her foot, lips tight. At last she nodded reluctantly. "All right, Mom. I'll make myself scarce for a few days. When is graduation for the wonder twins?"

"Friday after this," Claire said. "But don't worry. We'll see each other before then." She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Don't worry. All will be well."

%%%

Steve helped clean the table, then walked through the living room, intending to go downstairs to get ready for his first day of work. John and Susanna were already in there. John was swearing softly at the TV, where the Cardinals were losing to the Mets, while Susie seemed to be texting her entire high school class at once.

He stopped, struck by a thought, and sat on the arm of the sofa.

"Can I ask you guys a question?"

"Already did," said Susie, dimpling as she grinned.

"Oh lord," he said. "Walked into that one, didn't I?"

"Well, we are incurable smart asses here," said John. "Oh, come on!" he complained to the TV. Can someone get a hit?"

"Is your sister seeing anyone?" asked Steve.

John sat straight up and muted the TV, ignoring the game. Susie put her phone aside. They looked at each other, then at Steve.

This would be the movie where you hear the needle scratch and everyone goes quiet, Steve thought.

"Nooo," said Susanna slowly. "I don't think she is. Has she said anything to you, John?"

"Well, I don't think she is planning on getting married anytime soon," he said with a crooked smile. Susie snorted. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," said Steve, red-faced. "It's just that she touched my hand at dinner tonight. And I know I've only known her for a couple days, but she's cute and she's been really nice to me..."

"Ellie's nice to everyone," said Susanna. John frowned at her.

"Well, yeah, she is, Susie. But there's nice and there's nice. Go on, man," he said to Steve.

"And I just kind of feel...this connection with her. It's like I've known her for a lot longer than just two days.

"Of course, I thought I felt the same thing with Hilda when I met her the other day, too. Maybe it's just your family."

John nodded, half serious. Or so Steve thought. "Maybe it is. Or maybe it's you. But if you want to ask Ellie out, go for it. She could use some conversation that wasn't about eating paste or how cute bunnies are.

"By the way," he added, "What time does that bus of yours leave for the construction site tomorrow?"

"Eight-fifteen," Steve said. "We start work at nine."

John nodded. "One of us will drop you off on the way to school in the morning. After school's out, we'll drop you off, or you can borrow one of our cars if we're not working. It'll save you a half-hour walk each way. Susie can pick you up tonight. I've got a game."

"You people are too decent for words," Steve said. It almost sounded like he was complaining.

"That's because you don't know our master plan yet," said John. "Right, Susie?"

Susie grunted, concentrating on her phone again.

%%%

Steve had gone downstairs and John looked over at Susanna. "What do you think?"

"About what?"

"Oh, come on, Sis. You know what I'm talking about."

Susanna sent off a last text message, then exited the screen. "I think that if Steve asks Ellie out, it'll be exactly what he needs. Maybe what they both need. I just hope that we can put things off long enough so that it doesn't backfire on them both."

"What they both need?" asked John, mystified.

Susanna let out an exasperated huff of air. "John, sometimes I wonder if you are really as dumb as you pretend to be. Yes. What they both need. Steve lost both his parents and has lived the last few years with a monster and a woman who may as well not exist. Then he meets us. He worships the ground Mom walks on, but he is never going to make a move on her."

"Mom might make a move on him," John suggested with a smile.

"She might, but she won't. She knows what Steve needs. Which is a woman near his own age, but who still has nurturing instincts. And who is he falling for? Ellie, the cute school-teacher.

"On the other hand, you have Ellie, who wants a child, loves small children, but who knows that sleeping with you is only a temporary solution." John drew a breath, but kept quiet when Susie frowned at him. "Come on, John, you know it is."

"Yeah, you're right. Once we go away to school, Ellie and Hilda and Aggie are going to be in the same situation they were in before we crossed. Every time I come home they are going to be knocking down the door to be with their mate."

He sighed. "You know, a few weeks ago I would have thought that the prospect of being the love slave of six hot women the ultimate dream come true. But when you take into account the needs of everyone else..." he trailed off, "Sex every day is awesome for me. Sex one day out of six is not so awesome for you."

She nodded. "Right. So if we manage to finesse this right, we can get Steve in the coven, lessen the pressure on you by a significant amount, and drive Grant absolutely berserk at the same time."

"Fuck Grant," said John. "Why should we worry about that sorry sack of shit?"

"He's not going away, Johnny," said Susanna. Her eyes were wide and her voice throbbed with the power of prophecy. "This matter will not be settled until the coven has dealt with Calvin Grant."

She shook herself and smiled at John. "Looks like your Cardinals lost," she said.

"What? Oh, Goddammit," he said, watching the Mets bounce around after a walk-off win. "Screw this," he said, snapping off the TV with the remote. He stewed for a couple of minutes, then gave Susie a lopsided smile. "Want to go upstairs and fool around?"

She shook her head sadly. At John's surprised look, she spread the fingers of one hand on her belly. "Cramps," she said with a wince. "I'm going to be out of action for a few days, lover boy."

John nodded. He moved over to where she was seated on the sofa and gave her a hug. "I promise to make it up to you when I am feeling better," she said.

He kissed her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. "No need," he said. "You make up for it every day, just by being you."

Susanna turned and looked at him, but could find no sign of mockery on his face. "Don't be getting all mushy on me, John Chamberlain," she said. "I won't recognize you if you do."

Hand in hand, they walked upstairs.

%%%

The next morning, Steve was a tense ball of nervousness. He could barely eat breakfast, settling for a bowl of cereal. He had been up since six, checking and re-checking the contents of his knapsack, wracking his mind to think of anything that he might have forgotten for his first day on the job.

Claire plumped into the chair beside him. "Ready for your first day?" she smiled.

"I think so," he replied. He grabbed his knapsack and put it on the table. "Would you take a look in here, and let me know what you think? I don't want to screw this up."

Claire peeked into the bag. "Let's see. Sun block, handkerchief, thermos, lunch, towel, water, soda...looks like you're all set here." She considered his clothes. "I think your outfit is very sensible. Baggy jeans. T-shirt. Heavy shoes. Flannel in case it cools off or rains. And I love the hat."

Steve smiled sheepishly and took off the floppy hat with the wide brim. "I got it from a friend a while back when we were in Alabama. He had so many fishing hats he had to give some away."

"Well, it will keep the sun off. And the rain. And it will probably scare away crows and small animals. And large ones," she grinned.

Steve snorted with laughter, then sat up straight as John entered the kitchen. He had his equipment bag over one shoulder, and his book bag over another.

"Goddess help me, but I am going to be glad not to have to haul all this crap around," he grunted. "Ready to go?" he asked.

Steve nodded. Claire gave John a hug goodbye, hampered by the stuff John was carrying. Then, to Steve's surprise, hugged him. He stiffened for a moment, then put his arms around her. Her breasts were large and firm against his chest. He drew away before she felt his involuntary reaction to her touch.

"Goodbye, honey," she smiled at John. "Goodbye, Steve," she smiled, touching his cheek lightly with one hand. She watched them, tenderness in her eyes, as they left the house.

She turned to drop into her seat. She heard a sound and turned to see Susanna watching her with a small smile on her face.

"Thank the Goddess he's gone," she said with a shudder. "Agatha was right. The longer I'm around him, the worse it gets."

"I know," sighed Susanna. She sat limply beside Claire. "At least we can spend some time in decontam today." She pushed her hair back from her face. "How much longer, do you think?"

Claire scowled in frustration. "Goddess, I wish we could do it now. But we need time. Time for him to get him used to us. Time for us to know him better. Time for the state of West Virginia to get its head out of its ass.