Cherie Colyer - Hold Tight

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Hold Tight: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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What’s one little spell?
When you’re new to magic, one spell can be the difference between getting what you want...and ruining the lives of everyone you love.
Sixteen-year-old Madison has just embraced her magical powers. The trick now is learning how to control them. She and her boyfriend -and fellow witch- can’t even enjoy a simple kiss without getting shocked when their powers collide. Instead of mastering her new skills, though, Madison is stuck watching her kid brother and doing chores.
But being a witch does have its benefits. With a simple spell, Madison instantly conjures the help she needs around the house. Or so she thinks. Her idea of “help” invites trouble of its own as a pair of dangerous yet enticing beings enter her life. When a classmate disappears soon afterwards, Madison discovers she's the next victim of a threat she's powerless to resist...and there’s nothing it won’t kill to make her surrender.
Caught in the crossfire between two dashing but deadly creatures, Madison must figure out which one to trust and how to rid her world of the other—before one of them destroys her and everyone she cares about.

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“Right.” I sighed and let him pull me to my feet.

Ever since our last attempt at making out, it had been quick pecks and teasing whispers of kisses. It sucked, but there was a reason Isaac wanted me to master controlling the elements. Stirring the air and summoning a storm required one’s mind to be at peace and in control of the powers. If my emotions sprinted wildly through my body, my powers would too, and the spell would show it. But if I could stop the rain or warm the breeze, then I could successfully tuck my powers behind the wall in my mind and kiss Isaac like a normal person.

We went outside to practice in the backyard. The sun hung at about three o’clock in a bright turquoise sky. The temperature was a pleasant forty-six degrees.

Isaac closed his eyes, taking a moment to find his center. When he opened them, the air around us felt charged.

“Draw in the energy from the atmosphere and trees and then concentrate on what you want to happen,” he said.

He raised his arms to either side. As if commanded, the dried leaves on the grass in front of us rose several feet off the ground. He then moved his hands through the air like an orchestra’s conductor does to signal its musicians to raise their instruments. The leaves shifted closer to us.

With a sweeping downward swing of Isaac’s right hand, the leaves began to dance around us to the melody of an unheard song. With his left hand, he pointed to the statue of an oversized frog and an equally disproportioned grasshopper. The frog picked up two twigs, which it used like drumsticks on the landscape stones nearby. The grasshopper rubbed its hind leg against its wing to provide the strings. Isaac tapped his forefingers in the air, and the tempo went from slow and romantic to quick and jolly. The leaves responded by twirling around us as if performing a choreographed waltz. It was beautiful to watch.

After a few minutes, the breeze died down and the leaves settled back on the ground.

“Your turn,” he said.

“You want me to do that?” I asked in awe.

“Start small. Just get the leaves to circle us.”

I closed my eyes in an effort to find my center, but no matter how hard I tried, Isaac’s orchestrated performance kept poking its way into my thoughts. I decided to try to copy what he’d done.

I raised my hands to my sides, but nothing happened. Isaac smiled encouragingly. I sucked in a breath, imagined I was conducting a ballet, and swung my hands in front of me. This time the leaves rose around us. I moved my fingers in a steady motion from side to side, hoping the leaves would follow. They did more of a frantic bunny hop than a graceful dance, but I’d take it. Isaac cued up the frog and grasshopper. They played a bubbly polka.

“You’re getting better at this,” Isaac said once the song had ended and the leaves settled back on the grass. “Want to try a little rain? The holly bushes could use the water.”

“Okay.” I imagined the moisture in the air gathering over the bushes, and a small fluffy cloud really did form above them. At the same time, the sun must have ducked behind a cloud of its own, but I ignored the sudden darkness and silently commanded, Rain!

A single drop of water hit my nose. I looked up, surprised to find an ominous storm cloud above our heads. Within a split second, rain came down quicker than either of us could react. We were drenched by the time Isaac managed to counter my spell.

“I think I pissed off Mother Nature,” I said, wringing water from my hair.

“She’ll get over it.”

Isaac’s powers circled us in the form of warm air, drying our hair and clothes. Once we were no longer dripping wet, we headed inside. The clock on the microwave caught my attention.

“Is that the time?” I grabbed my purse off the table. “I have to pick Chase up before six.”

Isaac dug his keys out of his jacket pocket. “Let’s go.”

We had made it to the sitters with one minute to spare Isaac drove us home - фото 2

We had made it to the sitter’s with one minute to spare. Isaac drove us home, and I had just bolted the door behind Chase and me when I felt an unknown presence. The house didn’t smell right either. I grabbed the collar of Chase’s jacket to keep him from moving.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping closer to me.

“Wait here.”

I walked forward, stopping when Chase stepped on the heel of my sneaker. His wide eyes told me there was no way he would wait by himself in the foyer. I took his hand. A quick survey from the hallway didn’t show anything out of place. I inhaled, trying to place the scent. Moss or—I took another deep breath—what the yard smelled like after a rainstorm.

I didn’t want to scare Chase any more than I probably already had, so instead of grabbing Dad’s umbrella from next to the stairs to use as a weapon, I clutched my backpack in a death grip and hoped slamming my textbooks down on someone’s head would be enough to stop an intruder.

We crept from room to room. A brief tour of the downstairs revealed nothing, and neither did our search of the upstairs, but Chase had left his bedroom window open.

“I’m going to nail it shut if you can’t remember to close it,” I scolded, leading the way back downstairs.

“I didn’t open it.” He plopped down on the tile and pulled off his gym shoes.

Chase had the warmest room in the house. He was always opening his window, claiming he was melting like Frosty the Snowman in a greenhouse, but it wasn’t worth arguing over.

“Whatever. You hungry?”

“Starving!”

I ruffled his caramel-brown mane. “Go wash up, and I’ll make us something.”

I’d just set the peanut butter and grape jelly on the table when I caught the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle.

“You didn’t finish the spell,” cooed a whimsical voice.

I swallowed hard and glanced around the kitchen, looking for the source of the voice that I decided was definitely female. It didn’t sound as threatening as it had the other day.

Still, I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear: I had changed my mind. The faerie should stay in her realm.

“Four little words,” she said, egging me on.

I didn’t need Isaac’s book to know the last line. It was imprinted in my memory, the minor change to what was typed on the page and all. The question was whether I still want to invite a faerie into my home.

Although, it seemed she was already here.

“And grant me sight,” I said, completing the spell.

I waited.

And waited.

Nothing.

I shook my head in disbelief. Either my mind played tricks on me, or I should’ve paid more attention to Isaac when he’d said fairies were devious creatures. I really hoped it was the former.

Annoyed, I slapped several slices of bread onto two plates and made Chase and myself a sandwich. Chase joined me in the kitchen and grabbed a jumbo bag of Doritos from the cabinet on the way to his seat at the table.

“I had half a mind not to come,” said the voice.

I spun around—both plates still in hand—to find a girl about my age sitting on the counter near the refrigerator. She wore a tank top that looked as if it had been fashioned together with fine silk thread and the petals of several pale pink orchids. Her white skirt covered her toes, her eyes were brushed deep purple, and pale red and yellow daisies adorned her silver-violet hair. From what I could see, she didn’t have wings sprouting out of her back.

“Really?” she said with a frown, and I felt my heart become heavy. Someone so beautiful shouldn’t have been able to make such a sad expression. “Dead rose petals and tap water in a container with a picture of a car on it? You couldn’t take the time to get fresh ingredients and use a real bowl before calling an audience with me?”

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