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I'd asked Sam if I could make one more quick call, and he'd agreed. I dialed Hunter's number.
Hunter, I noticed, sounded even more adult and more British on the phone. His voice was deeper, and I could feel him pacing.
"Alisa!" he said, exhaling loudly.
I filled him in on the situation so far, and he hmm-ed and ah-ed in typical Hunter fashion. He'd gotten most of the story from Morgan, so I didn't have to start form the very begi
"Have you spoken to your father?" he asked, with just a slightly parental edge to his voice. "Morgan tells me he's very upset, understandably."
"I just spoke to Hilary for a few minutes," I said. "Everything's fine."
"Well," he said, clearly not sure if he believed that last statement of mine, "I have some news as well, and it fits in rather neatly with what you've just told me. I spoke to both Ardán Rourke and Jon Vorwald. Jon said that it's possible that you have a trigger element, but he'll have to test you in person to figure out what that might be. He also said that he'd heard of one case, back in the fifties, of a telekinetic power that seemed to be passed down via first born female children."
"Firstborn females?" I frowned. Actually, that would why my mother and I had telekinesis, but not Sam or Ruth. But if it was passed down to my mother…then Evelyn…
"That's right." Hunter's crisp voice interrupted my thoughts. "Also, and this is very interesting, Ardàn knew of at least one case of a witch in the 1800s who had telekinesis. What's interesting about her is that when she got older, maybe sixty or seventy, her telekinetic incidents became more violent, harder to control. He thinks that it's possible that as witches get older, they lose some of their inhibitions. Their emotions become stronger and harder to reign in."
"I don't understand," I said. "What does that have to do with me? I'm fifteen."
"Think about it," he said. "You have telekinesis. Your mother had it. It's quite possible, then, that your grandmother has it. You just said that the incidents were getting worse with time and that they also flared up during times of family crisis."
Evelyn. I sucked in my breath. This could be Evelyn. It made complete sense—to me anyway. When Evelyn was upset or under stress, that was when Oona was at her worst. But what could I do with this information? If she didn't already hate me, Evelyn would lose it if I came forward and suggested that she was responsible for all of the horrible things that had happened to her family. Besides that, I didn't have enough proof to be sure it was true.
"Hello?" Hunter drew me back to reality. "Alisa?"
"Still here," I said, gripping the lobby wall. "God, Hunter. What do I do now?"
"I wouldn't do anything yet. We can't be sure that this is actually what's going on. It's just a theory. Ardán's looking into the matter some more. Your case really interested him, and he wants to come over and meet you."
"What can I say?" I said. "I'm fascinating."
"So," he said, "when can we expect to see you?"
"Uh…" I shifted from foot to foot. "Soon. I promise. Spring break is almost over. I just need a little more time."
In the end, I had to promise to call him the next night, after the Ròiseal circle. Reeling from what I'd just heard, I headed back into the dining room. Should I tell Sam? No. Hunter had said to wait until he had more information. Waiting. Not my strong suit. As I came into the dining room, the waitress approached our table with the biggest brownie sundae I had ever seen. I sighed. Sam is the best.
15. Ròiseal
February 3, 1955
The baby will be coming any day now. At the Imbolic celebration last night, all of Ròiseal performed a ritual to ensure a safe birth.
Just as I knew Sorcha was a girl. I know this is a boy— a rascally little boy, at that. From the way he kicks, I tend to think that he will give his sister no peace! He's so feisty! We have decided to call him Somhairle.
Sorcha seems to know that something is going on. I can tell by the look in her eye. She likes to run up and touch my stomach, then she giggles and runs away way. She'll sometimes drag Hugh over and point it out to him, her eyes full of wonder. My little girl—she's so full of the Goddess!
— Aoibhea
"Looks like we're the last ones here," Sam said as we parked between Charlie's volkswagen and red motorcycle. Just the sight of Charlie's car turned me into jellyfish woman, with wobbly legs and a googly stare, but I managed to pull myself together enough to be able to walk to the front door like a normal human.
Sam let us right in and headed for the living room, where everyone was already gathered. A fire was going strong in the fireplace. In the middle of the room there was a cauldron filled with cool water and flower blossoms. Ruth's birthday cake was set on a small table, uncut.
It wasn't exactly a rocking party. Brigid, Ruth, and Evelyn sat together on a long sofa, all looking uncomfortable. Ruth's heavy cast was obviously itching. Brigid looked tired and pensive. Evelyn was her usual sparkling self. The three of them were having a quiet conversation with Kate Giles. Ruth and Kate each gave me a hug when they saw me. Brigid and Evelyn each gave me a thousand-yard stare.
After giving Ruth her gift, Sam settled down across the room, where Charlie was sitting with an older man. Tried to look casual as possible as I joined him there—my mind, however was constantly replaying our kiss. I had the DVD version going, with multiple angles, the trailer with the highlights, and the full director' cut. Charlie eyed the bruise near my eye, and I nodded to indicate that I was really all right.
The man next to Charlie was dressed kind of formally in a neat gray suit with a light cream-colored sweater underneath the jacket. He was just as tall, but heavier. He looked like Charlie, with the same kind face and the mischievous peaked eyebrows, and though his hair was shot through with silver gray, it curled defiantly. I knew instantly that this was Charlie's father.
"You're Alisa!" the man boomed, looking straight at me. He spoke so loudly that it startled some of the others. No drawn-out introductions needed here. Everyone should have a weird witch vibe. It makes things so much easier.
"My dad," Charlie said.
"I understand you were raised by nonwitches, Alisa! I'd love to know what that was like," his dad added. Charlie's eyes went wide, then rolled back into his head in comic grief.
"My dad," Charlie repeated, containing an exasperated sigh. "Right at the point."
"Did I say something wrong?" His father asked i
"It's okay." I laughed. "If you have a few days to spare, I can tell you the whole story."
"I'm not sure if I have a few entire days," he said, sipping his tea and honestly thinking it over, "but I'll check my schedule. Perhaps we can do a few blocks of time over the course of a week."
Okay. He was very literal, too, but he seemed nice enough. I couldn't imagine Charlie coming from a family that wasn't nice.
"I was just going to get something to drink," Charlie said, standing up. "Would anyone like anything?"
He ended up getting orders from almost everyone in the room, so I immediately sprang up and offered to help, praying that I didn't look too obvious and scheming. However, I did notice Brigid slipping me a steely glare as I left.
I followed Charlie into the kitchen. He was at the counter, setting down the glasses. He looked so good, just simply dressed in a dark blue button-down shirt and jeans. He seemed extra tall, so much more adult looking than me. There was no way I could have kissed him. I must have been delusional.