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“Do you think she’ll be alright there?” That was Tyson’s Uncle Quinton. “Do you think she’ll be safe? I don’t like the look of that mark on her head.”

“Do you think she heard us?” I think that was Dash and he really didn’t sound happy.

I threw the door open and ran outside, not bothering to close it behind me. They could shut their own damn door.

When I reached my driveway, I hesitated. I couldn’t go in through the front door, not after what I had walked in on the last time. Logically, I knew they weren’t still having sex in the dining room. That had been hours ago. Who knew what part of the house they could be in right now? I just… couldn’t.

I took the door to the garage instead. I had to grab my bag and my phone from the Rover before I headed inside anyways. For the first time that day, luck was on my side. The kitchen was empty, the lights dim. The counter was empty save for a plate covered in saran wrap. A sandwich sat on the plate, the crusts were cut off. My mother would never have done something so thoughtful for me. Mr. Cole had noticed I cut the crusts off of my sandwiches. My throat tightened with emotion and my eyes stung. Something so small, so simple and it meant so much to me.

God, he was so stinking nice.

I grabbed the plate even though I didn’t think I could possibly put any more food into my belly. I couldn’t simply leave it sitting on the counter, not when he’d gone through the trouble of making it for me. I would throw it in the garbage in my bathroom if need be.

The rest of the house was quiet and dark as I made my way to my bedroom. I didn’t know if I should have been relieved or frightened. Heaven help me if she got creative with her punishments.

I shuddered violently as I climbed the stairs on silent feet.

Heaven help me, indeed.

It wasn’t until after I’d tossed my sandwich in the trashcan in my bathroom, changed into comfy pajama shorts and a black tank top, plugged my phone in to charge and crawled under my pretty comforter that I allowed my mind to go over what had happened next door. First off, I’d fainted. I’ve never fainted before in my life and all of a sudden, BAM, I dropped like a bag of rocks. I bet it had been real pretty to watch, too. And, second, they were all really weird around me, flirty even, and in front of each other. It didn’t seem normal to me. And, third, when they hadn’t known I was awake and listening, they’d talked about me like they had been expecting me and like I meant something significant to them. The twins were fiercely loyal to me for having only met me the day before. Tyson was defensive on my behalf, called me pretty and, very weirdly, wanted to protect me. And I’d only known him a day longer than the twins. His Uncle Quinton was a scary guy who’d invaded my dreams. Julian seemed okay, but the other two, Dash and Damien, acted almost as if I had intruded upon their lives and it wasn’t a good thing. Then, there was the things they’d said. About magic and covens and claiming me. This part baffled me and left me uneasy at the same time. I didn’t know what to make of it, but I knew if I kept trying to analyze it, analyze them, I’d never get to sleep and likely drive myself insane. Magic

I clutched a pillow tightly to my chest and closed my eyes. It took me over an hour to clear my head and fall asleep. And when I did sleep, I dreamed of dark eyes hovering above me, watching my every move.

Chapter Twelve

I woke up to shouting, and not my mother’s. It was Mr. Cole. And he was yelling at my mother. Good grief. What now? I’d never heard him even raise his voice before and now he was shouting the house down in the middle of the night. Anybody else and I would lock my door and hide out in my room, leaving my mother to it. But it was Mr. Cole and I wasn’t afraid of him.

I threw the covers off of me and raced to my door. I unlocked it, ran down the hallway and nearly tumbled head first down the stairs.

They were in the kitchen and my mother was finally starting to raise her voice. She sounded desperate and hysterical. Not a good combination.

“I’m coming with you,” my mother whined in a very unattractively high voice.

“You have a daughter, Vivian. Something you seem to constantly forget about.” Mr. Cole snapped sharply. “This is her first week of school at a new school and a new year. She needs her mother here with her.”

Tears hit the backs of my eyes. I wanted to tell him to not waste his breath on defending me to her, she didn’t care and nothing he said would change her feelings towards me. But I couldn’t do it. I wished it was the other way around and he was my dad and she was just some woman coasting through our lives. I wanted that very badly.

“She’s a teenager,” I heard her scoff. “She doesn’t need me to hold her hand. I’ve been a single mother since the day that girl was born, I think I know her better than you do. I raised her right and she can take care of herself.”

Raised me right. My ha

nd twitched, reaching for the mark on my head.

“She’s your daughter,” Mr. Cole said softly.

“Yes, I know. You need me more than she does right now and I need to be with you. Not here, coddling my daughter.”

“What I need,” Mr. Cole shouted, “is for you to stop this bullshit so I can pack a bag and make it to the airport in time for my flight.”

I flinched. Now he was yelling and swearing. Something had happened and my mother was delaying him from doing what he needed to do.

He needed my help.

I stepped away from the wall where I’d been hiding in the shadows, straightened my spine and marched into the kitchen. My mother noticed me immediately and glared at me, that look was a dangerous one on her.

My mother’s long ash-blonde hair hung down, loose around her shoulders. Her face was free of makeup, showing dark circles under her eyes. She had on this purple nighty that looked silky, exposed far too much cleavage and barely covered her butt cheeks. Her hands rested on her hips as she squared off against Mr. Cole. He stood on the other side of the island with his arms crossed over his chest, facing off with her. He had on a tight white t-shirt and solid black, drawstring pajama pants.

Neither looked ready to back down. I wondered how long they’d been arguing before they woke me up.