Broken Creatures

Chapter 2 - Ravenwood Reunion

By the time we got to Ravenwood Manor, Short Straw looked a little shaken. I kept playing my raucous music, and he talked. And talked. I took the control, sucked it all out of him through my lollipop, its sugary sweetness intoxicating his head.

He told me about how his mom had died in a car crash, even though I already knew the real story behind that one. He told me about Amma, his dark-skinned, sassy, old nanny woman, who read tarot cards and was, evidently, really good, like his mom now that he didn’t have one, except that she made charms and dolls and the generally disagreeable nature she carried with her. He told me about his blond-haired friend, the jaw-dropper, whose name was Link, and his mom, who had changed recently and spent all her time trying to convince everyone that Lena was just as crazy as Macon, and a danger to all the students. Personally, I agree with Mrs. Lincoln.

He told me about his dad, how he was always holed up in his study now, with books and a secret painting Short Straw was never allowed to see, and how he felt like he needed to protect him, even though it was from something that had already happened, his mom dying last year.

He told me about Lena, how they’d met in the rain, how they had seemed to know each other before they’d met, and about a school window. Apparently, some small town jealous girl and her cronies had called her Lena Ravenwood, instead of her real name, Lena Duchannes, and had insulted Macon. She reacted by pressuring the window until it collapsed inward on the class and cut her hand. My grip tightened threateningly on the steering wheel.

I could tell he was keeping something from me. It was there, seemingly encased in a small bubble in the corner of his mind, resisting me with everything it had. By the time I’d realized it was there, I’d drained him so much that I was too tired of hearing him blab to care much anymore.

We arrived at Ravenwood. The sun had already set; I flipped off the radio, the uncanny silence swooping into the car in a sudden wave. I leaned in toward him, unafraid of him seeing my eyes, knowing he would only see his reflection in the thick lenses.

“You don’t need to be worried, Short Straw.” I had begun to like my nickname for him. It didn’t suit his almost 6’2” height, though. He breathed me in, looking a little sleepy. I smiled.

“Yeah, why not?” he looked a little hopeful.

“You’re the real deal.” I smiled brighter, letting my eyes flash a hint of the hypnotic gold. I messed up his hair fondly. “Too bad she’ll probably never see you again once you meet the rest of us. Out family is just a little wack.”

I got out of the car. He followed, worriedly hurried.

“More wack than you?”

“Indefinitely.”

He didn’t look pleased. Obviously, he’d met Macon.

Macon was supposed to be the town shut-in. He slept all day, so he never went out into the town, which was, evidently, a huge no-no to the people of Gat-dung. What they didn’t know was that he had more money than all of them combined-how exactly, I’ll never know-and was probably more intelligent than all of them combined as well. No offense to Short Straw or his professor parents.

I wrapped my cold hand on his arm when we got to the bottom step of the house. It was huge, towering, and vine-covered as usual, its grand appearance only truly showing on the inside, reflecting the mood of its owner. This had been the one place that had stayed; throughout all the traveling with my Grandma after having been expelled with Lena countless times, it had been there, stubbornly constant and immovable as always. Casters in my family don’t live with their parents, in case they go dark, like me. The parents become so attached, they keep their daughters and sons, trying to reverse the curse on my family, until someone dies, usually a Mortal. Some of us have little problems with…hmmm…anger issues.