Melissa Darnell - Crave

His sharp green eyes bored into me. He dropped the letter and set down his drink on his desk blotter, the dull thud loud in the too-quiet room. “Go on.”

Had I already messed up? “So I was thinking … maybe it’s time for me to really focus on my training. Emily said the powers won’t go away by ignoring them. But if I could learn how to use them—”

“Stop right there.”

Crap, I’d already screwed up somehow. I held my breath.

He rose from his chair and came around the desk toward me. “You’re saying that, after months of refusing to work on your training, now you’re ready to buckle down and learn?”

I cleared my throat, waited a beat, then nodded.

A slow smile spread across his face before he clapped a huge paw of a hand on my shoulder. “Well, all right, then, let’s get started! You’re already dressed for training. That’s good. Have you eaten? If you grounded at school today, you’re gonna need to fortify the body and fuel the energy, you know.”

I grinned with relief and rose to my feet. “Yeah, Dad. I just had a couple of sandwiches and some milk.”

“Good, good, good. Then let’s head to the backyard and get going. We’ve got a lot to cover.”

I glanced down at the slacks and dress shirt he still wore. “Uh, don’t you need to change?”

“Why waste time? I’ve got a million suits.”

As we stepped out the patio door to the backyard barely visible in the dusk, I took another chance. “Hey, Dad, do you think we could start with some self-defense training?”

“Problems at school?”

I forced a laugh. “Oh, you know, nothing a good right hook wouldn’t take care of. But you know Mom and how much she wants me to go to college.”

He chuckled. “I understand completely. Gotta go the subtle route this time, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, sure, we can start with some defensive training. Although if you ever get ready for a real fight …”

“You’ll be the first to know, Dad, I promise.”

“All right. Have a seat there on the grass while I pull up a chair.” He grabbed a wicker chair from the back patio, brought it onto the lawn and sat down, muttering, “Getting too old to sit on the ground.”

I sat in front of him, legs crossed kid-style as he’d taught me for grounding training even though it seemed stupid. I felt like a kindergartner getting ready for story time.

“Okay, so here’s the basics of casting a spell. Every witch starts off at the beginner level of spellcasting by saying a word and using a small hand gesture. This helps you focus and control when the spell is actually cast, until you learn how to discipline your mind. Someday, when you’re ready, I’ll teach you how to cast a spell even if you’re tied up with your mouth taped shut, just by thinking the word and using your willpower. Eventually you’ll learn to cast a spell even without a word at all, just by thinking about the results you want to create. Like you do when you create fire or ground your energy.”

As much as I hated magic, I had to admit, throwing a spell with just my mind would be kind of cool.

He continued. “The first thing you need to know is, when someone is coming at you, you’ve gotta react fast. So we’ll start with the word and hand gesture to cast a blocking spell. Just remember, though, no spell’s going to work until you really want it to.

“Now, are you feeling confident?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Then stand up.” I obeyed.

“And come at me.”

“Sir?”

“Go on. Try to come at me like you’re gonna tackle me.”

I took two slow steps toward him. And found myself ten yards away, walking in the opposite direction, and a million tiny stabs of pain racing over my neck and arms.

I muttered a curse and shook my head, rubbing the sensation from my skin. Was this how all the descendants felt when a Coleman used magic near them? No wonder the descendants hated it when I had power spikes at school.

“See how it works?” he said as I walked back. “It just moves you away and turns you around. Really good for fighting in hard-to-see situations, because it can confuse your attacker and give you time to get away.”

I nodded and paid close attention as he taught me the word and wrist flick. But when I tried it for myself, nothing happened.

“Ah, but you’ve really got to want it to happen, son. Your will is the key to it all. Now try again. This time, I’ll come at you.”

He walked toward me. I said the word and performed the hand gesture. And … nothing.

He glared at me. “Tristan Glenn Coleman. You can do better than that. Boy, I’m gonna tan your backside if you don’t get it in gear!” He came at me, his long legs eating up the distance between us despite his huge gut. I’d never realized he could move that fast.

Fear rammed through me, making me feel like a little kid about to get a serious butt whipping. I whispered the spell. Then he was at the end of the backyard and facing the opposite direction.

“All right! You did it!” He walked toward me, beaming. “I thought I might have to give you some motivation there.”

He was faking it? “Well, it worked.” My laugh sounded shaky even to my own ears.

The garden lights kicked on, flooding the yard and reminding me that time was running out fast.

“Okay, what’s next?” I said.

“Whoa, slow down, Tristan. Don’t you think you ought to practice that one a few more times?”

I reached for the energy within. Closing my eyes, I mentally whispered the word to that energy. When I opened my eyes, I focused on Dad and visualized myself performing the wrist flick at him. He reappeared at the other end of the yard.

He strolled back, shaking his head. His eyes, green copies of mine but wrinkled at the corners, were wide beneath his thick eyebrows. “Wow, son. You didn’t even use the word or hand gesture!”

“I did, just in my mind instead.”

“Impressive. That’s not usually something we teach until the fourth or fifth year of training. Remember, though, you can use the silent casting method, but you’ve gotta be extra careful if you’re only considering casting the spell. You have to keep your will out of it. Otherwise as soon as you think of the spell, you’ll end up casting it. That’s why we usually start off with the verbal method first. It gives you better control.”

“I understand.”

He shook his head one more time then grinned at me. “Should’ve known my son would be more advanced at this stuff than normal.”

“Of course. I’m a Coleman, right?”

“Right!”

I smiled back at him, but guilt made it tough to pull off. He looked so proud of me, so happy that I’d decided to focus on my training. But the truth was I still wasn’t the slightest bit interested in leading the Clann someday like he wanted me to. I just needed a spell or two so I could help Savannah. Then I could go back to trying to be normal.

“Uh, Dad? Can we … “

“Right, right. Back to work. Okay, so what other defensive spells might be useful?”

I remembered Emily’s advice. “How about a memory confusion spell? You know, so I could block someone from messing with something.”

“Ah, yes. Emily likes to use that spell to get rid of punks who bug her too much.”

“How long would a spell like that last?”

“If your sister cast it, a couple days at best. She’s too softhearted to will anyone to stay away longer than that. If I made it …” His face darkened. “A few months. Maybe years.”

“And if I made one?”

“Thinking of Christmas presents for your sister already?”

I laughed with him. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, like I said, it would depend on how often the boy tried to go near her. And how much you wanted him to stay away. But for one of Emily’s normal punks, I’d say at least a month if you cast it.”