Will of the Witch [Legacy, BK 2 - Completed]

Chapter 4.5

JOHN

I felt trapped in my room, but I didn't feel like facing any of my family downstairs. I didn't know what to say, other than what seemed like the obvious. That I didn't want to be here. That Ezra hadn't kidnapped me. That I hadn't been in danger when they'd 'rescued' me. But that wasn't going to do any sort of good. Not now.

Standing at my window, I looked over my plants on the sill, nudging them with my magic, caring for them as I had the plants at Ez's place all summer. From the way Frankie had acted, I was beginning to think my family thought I was traumatized. If they only knew the half of it. It may have made trying to explain things to them a little simpler.

There was a soft knock on my door and I looked towards it as it opened. Chelle poked her head in. "Hey, dinner's ready-"

I turned back to my plants. "No, thanks. I'm not hungry."

"Oh," she said. "Why not come down anyway? We could talk about what you missed and catch up-"

"I said I'm not hungry." The words came out harsher than I intended. I glanced back, ready to apologize, but the damage was already done.

Tears had gathered in Chelle's eyes. She looked down at her feet. "Okay." She left.

I sighed, putting my head in my hands. As much as I'd missed Frankie and being here with my family, I definitely did not belong here any longer.

The thought of Ezra just opening a portal in my room and helping me escape flew through my mind, but I dismissed it instantly. He didn't know where I was or what my room looked like to make a portal here. Even if I still had my phone, and could send him the information he needed, the wards on the house would probably stop him, if not alert my parents that he was here.

Falling back on to my bed, I stared at my ceiling. The little plastic glow in the dark stars I'd put up in middle school were still sticky-tacked into place. I remembered Frankie and me taking the time to plot out a few of the bigger constellations.

The memory was bittersweet. Would I ever see that Frankie again? The one that was so caring and compassionate? Or had the Coven taken her from me as they had so many countless others from the Necromancers?

My door opened again, this time without a knock, and I sat up to meet my father's glare straight on.

He was stern-faced, but there was a softer expression behind his glare. One that I hadn't seen in years.

"I'm glad you're alright," he said, stepping into my room. "I didn't think a Summoner of all things, would let you go alive. Frankly, I'm surprised I even got to see him. I thought the Summoners had all been killed."

I thought of many choice things I wanted to say in reply, but I swallowed them. I could not face my father with this. He would be the least able to understand. The stories I'd heard from him, and the depth of his own hate, just blinded him from seeing any part of the truth.

We stared at each other a moment longer, before he said, "Come downstairs for dinner."

"No, thank you. I'm not hungry."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "I wasn't asking. You're upsetting your mother. She was worried sick the entire time you were gone. All she wanted was to have a normal family dinner with all of us again. So, you will come downstairs and sit at the table, and make your mother happy."

I thought about my options, about insisting on staying in my room, but I was tired of fighting.

Standing, my father moved to the side, letting me pass through the door first. I could hear the clink of forks and knives on plates in the dining room as I made my way downstairs, but there wasn't much in the way of conversation.

I took the empty seat on the end, next to Tasha and across from Chelle - who wouldn't look up from her plate. Dad took his normal seat at the end across from Mom. I ignored her worried stare, instead focusing on the plate in front of me. It was filled with my favorite foods: barbecue chicken, sweet potato casserole, and brussels sprouts cooked with bacon.

My heart twisted. I couldn't do this.

"John?"

I looked up sharply at my mother. It'd sounded like she'd been trying to get my attention for awhile, and I saw then that everyone was staring at me.

"What?"

Mom set her silverware down. "Are you okay? Is there something wrong with your food?"

Looking at my plate again, I shook my head. "No, there's nothing wrong with the food." Hesitating, I searched for the right way to explain what was bothering me, but the words wouldn't come. All that was left in me was darkness and a sense of purpose.

I stood. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do this. I can't pretend that everything is okay."

"John," Dad exclaimed.

"I'm going back to my room." I left my plate untouched and started to head back upstairs, but my mother's voice froze me in my steps.

"We've found him, John."

I faced her, my heart beating hard enough to hurt. "What?"

She dabbed her lips with her crisp white napkin and placed it on the table as she gave me a reassuring smile. "We found the Summoner. You don't have to worry about him anymore. By this time tomorrow, he'll be dealt with, and we can all get back to normal around here."

Shuffling back a step, I fought to find my voice. "What've you done?"

"What any mother would do," she said, lifting her wine glass. "I'm protecting my children." 

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