XXI. Rowan's Choice
And harm ye none, do as ye will.
In perfect love and perfect trust.
-The Wiccan Rede
For the next week someone was always with Rowan in the house, she didn't leave it. Hunter collected her homework, Reid missed three days of school and practice before Rowan insisted that he go. When Caleb didn't have school he was with Rowan, too. Their mom flew back from Italy early when her son called her. There was no dissuading her to stay where she was. So for two days Evelyn stayed with her daughter. She was as enraged at this Deb as everyone else.
After that week, and her Jeep came back from the shop, Rowan decided it was time to leave the house. As the physical pain dissipated from her body, and though old fears still niggled at her, Rowan slowly let her own anger simmer near the surface. To have someone, some vindictive, petty, ill-tempered woman harass and terrorize her was more than enough. Rowan wouldn't let herself be cowed back into hermit-life as she had been four years ago after the car accident. And after Rowan decided to be a bit angry; she main worry was Ernie, not that she hadn't already been. Thinking about the fact that Ernie almost, and could have been seriously injured, made Rowan furious. She was capable of letting many slights against her person slide off her shoulder. But hurting someone she loved? Her beloved Ernie. Unacceptable.
The day after she began school, Hunter got called away on a spontaneous ops mission. No one was still comfortable with Rowan going out alone, so Hope volunteered. If Deb had no magic then Hope was certainly a match for the girl. Her martial arts skills were getting sharper as the days went by, and Hope also wouldn't mind drop-kicking some sense into Deb for hurting Rowan, whom she considered family. So one day after Rowan was finished at school they went to the Danvers estate so Rowan could get some things from her sanctum sanctorum.
"How come you don't take everything at once?" Hope asked as they drove.
"Taking apart a place that's harbored structured energy is a delicate process. Some people prefer to just rip off the band-aid, but with this, you have to be careful."
Hope nodded. Though she may not understand all the deep intricacies of energies, auras, and spirits, she got the basic gist of what Rowan was saying. The estate was quiet when they arrived. Evelyn was at a consultation with a client.
Most of the niches that once held herbs and what not were empty in the apothecary. The pictures on the walls were gone. What served as her apothecary room in her house with Reid was about half the size of this one, so Rowan had had to decide if she wanted to dedicate more of her second apothecary to an actual apothecary or to the sitting area. In the end she'd opted for the former, though there was still plenty of room to relax.
An hour later Hope was helping Rowan carry some boxes to the Jeep. She noticed she was looking a little wan and stressed. Trying to keep it together every time she had to get in the car? Rowan was back to clenching the steering wheel and getting short of breath or wincing each time a horn blared.
"Want me to drive?" Hope asked, deciding to be blunt but not unsympathetic.
"You wouldn't mind?"
"Nope."
"Okay. Thanks." Rowan handed over the keys, glad to be free of the responsibility of designated driver for the moment. Her hands were free to work the stress ball with closed eyes while mentally reciting some soothing chants. She fell so deep into it the next thing she knew Hope was pulling up into her driveway.
"You really zonked out," Hope said.
"Guess so." Rowan thanked her again for driving; it had certainly given her a short respite from vehicular anxiety. They brought Rowan's stuff in and placed it in the apothecary.
"You guys hungry?" Rowan cooed to the animals. She fed them and they ate contentedly. She couldn't help but observe Ernie, he was doing well. Every night she employed massages for canines to relax him. Reid then insisted he get a massage too.
xxxx
"Good job, Garwin," Coach said as the blond swimmer rose from the pool.
"Thanks."
The whistle blew, practice was over. Reid was feeling high from the 'good' swimming, and the bettering of his lap times. He'd even beaten Rob Thompson's – a senior, currently the star swimmer – record. And he was only a freshman. Of course, after that, Rob had been a little cool towards him, more so than usual. Rob was one of those extremely serious athletes who lived and breathed the sport even out of the pool. Rob was married and lived in student housing with his wife. Other than that, Reid didn't know too much about him, and he wasn't going to let his teammate's piss poor attitude ruin his day.
Loud chatter was going on in the showers, steam wafting up as cloudy modesty covering. Brent, another freshman, was showering two spigots down and was getting ribbed by another teammate for getting cussed out by his girlfriend the other day in the Quad.
"She's not going to dump me," Brent shot back. "She was on her rag."
"How can you let her disrespect you like that?" Eliot laughed. "I'd dump her ass."
Tyler and Reid eyed each other briefly. The blonde's attention was redirected when asked if his wife ever 'bitched' him out in public.
"Uh, no," Reid replied.
"Tyler?" Brent questioned. "You?"
Tyler shook his head. "Sorry."
Done with their showers they congregated to their lockers, Eliot saying, "When she starts on you in public, it's the beginning of the end. I don't care if she loves you. And if you married her, it'd get worse."
"Lucky no woman would ever marry you then, El," Brent retorted.
Eliot scoffed. "I mean, dude, Reid, your wife has never bitched at you? You guys live together twenty-four seven."
"Nah," Rob piped up dryly. "Reid's old woman's a saint. I bet she doesn't yell at all. Does she?"
The freshmen quieted a bit. Reid glared at Rob. "I wouldn't piss her off," he said. "So I won't tell her you called her an 'old woman.'" He turned away then, not wanting to get provoked into an argument, or give Rob a chance to make any more subtly snide comments about Rowan only to get at him personally.
Ten minutes later, Reid and Tyler left the locker room and walked to their respective vehicles. Since Tyler no longer lived in the dorms he left campus after practice now, too.
"How's Rowan?" Tyler asked.
"Doing okay, actually," Reid said, smiling. "She's pretty determined not to let Deb get her down too much."
Tyler expressed his gladness over this, and five minutes later he was heading in a different direction as Reid in his car. In his Mustang, Reid turned on some music, figured Rowan would be home by now, and wondered if Hope was still with her. Hunter was still gone on his ops mission. It was going on four days now. He was home forty-five minutes later. Pogue's bike was in the driveway. The animals scuffled towards him in the foyer; Bruce Lee hung out on his shoulder.
Rowan, Pogue and Hope were in the apothecary. He went over to Rowan, hugged and kissed her, a playful nip at the neck. She giggled. He and Pogue did that guy fist-knock in greeting, and Reid said hi to Hope.
"How was practice?" Rowan asked.
He grinned. "Good. Well, except for that asshole Rob." He rolled his eyes.
"What is he, the Aaron Abbot of college swim?" Pogue said, petting the cat that'd jumped in his arms.
Reid snorted. "Hardly. Rob's good. Just an egotistical douche bag with no sense of humor. All because I beat his record."
"Now who's egotistic?" Hope said as she helped Rowan wrap herbs in paper.
"You hear how your girlfriend talks to me?" Reid said to Pogue, and the latter laughed. Then, to Bruce Lee, who was tickling his ear: "Hey, hey, hey." He set the ferret down, looked around the room at the changes for the first time. "It's lookin' great, Row."
"Thank you," she replied, her eyes bright. It made his heart thud, seeing her light-hearted like this.
He said he was going to get some food and Pogue went with him into the kitchen. "She's doing a lot better, huh?" the brunette Son commented.
"Yeah. Sleeping could be better but…yeah." Reid grinned, it faded. "I wish I could get my hands around that Deb's neck though. Where the hell could she be?"
xxxx
When the weekend came around Rowan found herself home alone, except for the furry kids. She'd spent the previous day with Aaron and Tootie, who was doing fantastically well in her new forever home. Still working on her apothecary, she got to thinking that it was futile to wait for Deb to strike again. Or for someone else to find her. Hunter was still gone, a little over a week now. She was worried and vacillated between calling his uncles or not calling his uncles. But Rowan had to accept that if something awful had happened to Hunter, his uncles would know about it, and, in turn, so then would she.
"You guys," Rowan said to the animals as she stood behind the counter. "I think it's time to take some initiative." Ernie cocked his head to the side, Bubbe and Bruce Lee peered at her intently. "I'm going to see Barry. If I'm going to scry for Deb, I'll need something of hers."
She wouldn't take them with her, not wanting to risk their safety just in case Deb decided to do another fast and furious on her. Rowan readied herself with jeans, hoodie, jacket, gloves and beanie before venturing out into the bitter cold. It wasn't snowing at the moment, but by tonight, definitely. Her hip and leg were stiff so she favored the limb and treaded gingerly. Rowan started the engine, letting it warm up a bit, while she closed her eyes and quietly recited some chants. Feeling she was ready, Rowan left the property and safety of her home.
There was no problem getting to Barry's, despite having only been there once before. It hadn't occurred to her that he might not be home. Silly of me, she thought. Rowan glimpsed a few of the other inhabitants of the trailer park, shoveling around their walkways. Barry's was at the end, a bit secluded. Luckily, there was a light on inside. She got out, hesitated for a mere moment, before approaching his door and rapping on it politely. The curtain fluttered a moment later, then the door opened tentatively.
"Hi," Rowan said with a smile.
"Uh…hi," Barry replied uncomfortably. "I told your friends I don't know where Deb is."
"I know. This is about her, but something different." She didn't want to be forward and invite herself in, but she also didn't want to stand around in the cold being so conspicuous to his neighbors. Apparently, neither did he, because he stepped back so she could enter.
It was cleaner than the last time she was here. It didn't have the stink of nicotine or liquor. It was actually quite homey.
"You want to sit down?" he asked.
"Thanks." She was grateful for that, her hip was throbbing. "I can tell you're uncomfortable, so I'll get to the point."
Some of the tension left Barry's shoulders. He was convinced that she was going to ask for something he didn't have the answer to and then be gone. It wasn't that he didn't like this person, she was quite friendly, but he wanted to get away from the chaos of magic. Deb hadn't left a good impression on him.
"I need to track Deb down. By…magical means. But I need something of hers to do that."
"Like what?"
"A personal item would be best."
His brow furrowed. "She took everything with her. And afterwards, I cleaned."
Rowan frowned. "You didn't keep anything? A hair tie? Shirt? Sock? Brush?"
He paused, shifted from one foot to the other. "Um…maybe a brush…"
"Have you used it?"
"No!"
"Does it still have some of her hair in it?"
Barry flushed. Okay, maybe he'd been more attached to Deb than he wanted to let on. So, he'd kept something she'd left behind.
"Can I borrow it?" Rowan questioned. This was better than she could have hoped for. "A couple of strands of hair. I don't need all of it."
Barry exhaled some of his discomfort in an awkward chortle. "This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had."
She grinned, shrugged. "That happens." Pause, then: "So…? I'll pay for it if that's what you want."
"That's all right. Let me…" He went to the end of the trailer that served as his bedroom. He shut the door behind him.
Rowan heard some shuffling, but he was back in a minute. He got a Ziploc bag from a cupboard above the sink and put two strands of Deb's hair in it, and handed it to her.
"Thank you so much."
"Sure."
"We'll try not to bother you anymore."
"Good," he said without thinking. "I mean-"
"I get it. Don't worry." Rowan put the baggie in her jacket pocket. "I better get going. Thanks again." The chill hit her like a slap in the face once she was outside again. She waved one more time to Barry who had looked out the window. He waved back.
xxxx
Reid got home just as Rowan was leaving Barry's place. She hadn't told him he was going anywhere, so he figured this was an impromptu outing on her part. They knew each other's schedules, hence knowing where the other was on given days. Reid knew when she was volunteering at the humane society, or homeless shelter, or the days she took Ernie to the hospital or library so he could do his therapy thing. The blond surmised this deserved at least an inquiring phone call.
The animals were contented, having already been fed and played with earlier that morning so they weren't vying for his attention. Bubbe brushed up against his leg with a meow as greeting before hopping on her cat pillar to have her regular staring contests with Mo and Bo. Reid called Rowan as he made himself a sandwich. It rang, and then rang some more before going to voice mail.
There was no initial worry on his end. Rowan not answering her phone meant that she was occupied with something that she either couldn't get away from for the moment, or a situation where it would be rude to answer her cell phone, and option number three was that she was driving (which incidentally coincided with reason number one) and Rowan never ever talked on the phone while she was driving. She'd worked out a system with everyone, however. If it was an emergency just call right back, she would pull over and answer.
Reid didn't consider this an emergency, but if she didn't call back or come home within a half-hour he'd try again. And if his wife was in any imminent danger, Reid was certain he would feel it through their bond. So, he set the phone on the couch while he ate his sandwich and Coke. Ernie lay at his feet, head on his paws, appearing to be casual in hopes that his human would drop something on the floor. Bruce Lee mimicked the dog.
"I'm not giving you anything," Reid said, turning on the TV.
Ernie simply wagged his tail. He knew better than to beg for scraps, which was why he always lay nearby instead of sitting, watching his humans eat. But, if any human could be persuaded to slip him something on the sly, Ernie knew it was his blond homo sapien that would cave.
A half hour went by pretty quick, and Reid was about to call Rowan again when Ernie's head popped up and a low woof sounded which meant he heard someone come home. A moment later the front door opened.
"Reid?"
"In here!"
Her face was rosy from the cold. She bent down and kissed him.
"When did you get home?" she asked.
"'Bout an hour ago. Where'd you go?"
Rowan quieted, her eyes averted. Well, she certainly couldn't lie. No, she could, but wouldn't. That would be wrong. "I went to Barry's."
A pregnant pause, then, "By yourself?" Reid said inanely. He stood up.
"He's harmless," Rowan said, shucking her jacket. "And I had to talk to him."
"About what?"
"I decided I'm not going to wait around for Deb to pop up. So I needed something of hers to be able to scry for her general location, then I'll be able to track her." By 'track' she meant create an invisible coil that only she could see and following it. "Initiative."
"I'm all for initiative, Row, but-"
Rowan put a finger on his lips to still his ensuing arguments. He peered at her, or down at her, considering their height disparity. "It's already done," she said. "I'm sorry if you don't like me going alone, but I couldn't wait. This really is my battle. I'm going to find Deb, and I'll deal with her."
His head tipped to the side. "Deal with her?" There was no way his Rowan would attack or hurt Deb unprovoked. "What're you going to do? She'll hurt you before you would."
"I planned on…talking to her."
"I don't think that backwoods tramp does talking too well. She'd rather steal trucks and use them as battering rams. You can't talk to chicks like her!"
Rowan sighed. She was hungry. Reid followed her to the kitchen. He noticed she was favoring her once-injured leg. Damn it, he thought. The blond leaned against the counter, arms crossed over chest.
"So, what did you get from Barry?"
"Some strands of hair. Couldn't be more perfect."
"Gross. He kept her hair?"
"He kept her brush," she corrected.
"With her hair in it," Reid rebutted. "Is he some kind of psycho? Well, any guy who'd get involved with that chick…"
Rowan chuckled. "Reid, you've gotten involved with some girls of dubious character in the past."
"Yeah, but I was young and stupid." He grinned, hugged her from behind, arms around her waist. He rested his chin on her shoulder. "And I wised up, didn't I?"
"I'd say you did, husband," she replied, turning around so she could hold him, too. On her tip toes, she met his lips. "You ever wonder why it was me you chose?"
"Nah, not for a second. I knew there'd never be anyone else."
You're my forever, she thought. Reid smiled, and she knew he'd picked up on her unspoken words.
xxxx
The next day, Hunter returned; with a bruise on his face. Though a bruise to him was the equivalent of a very minor paper cut, Rowan had to rein in every instinct she had not to go haywire. Gabriel and Michael were out on their own business, so Rowan sat Hunter down in her home and tended to him like a hurting chinchilla. Never mind that he was a preternaturally fast healer, and he'd gotten the bruise on the last day of ops, which was the only reason why it was still visible when he saw Rowan.
Everyone came over to Reid and Rowan's house to greet Hunter back. Who'd been gone for 'much too long' according to Rowan.
"Didn't they feed you?" she exclaimed as she stood in the kitchen preparing one of Hunter's favorite meals.
Hunter had just taken a much needed shower with a change of clothes. His family was sitting in the TV room, eating snacks, trying not to ask about his mission. Already his bruise was fading. Rowan's muttering of ill content was faintly audible amidst the sizzling on pans. Judy got up to help her.
"He's fine, Row," she said as she mixed.
Rowan tsked. "I should start having meals prepared for him when he has to go."
"He wouldn't have time to eat it," Pogue said.
"And it would make the rest of his team jealous," Tyler added.
"Yeah, babe," Reid put in. "They'd think he was being favored or something. Thus, creating a hierarchal dichotomy that would interfere with teamwork."
All of them went silent, even Rowan, who'd stopped mixing mid-rotation as she stared at her husband.
"I see your Word of the Day calendar every morning now," Reid explained to his wife, then shot a superior grin at the rest of them. "Take that, fellas."
"And back to the Reid we know," Caleb deadpanned.
Dinner was great, it always was with Rowan at the proverbial helm. Hunter, his stomach full for the first time in over a week, fell into a dead sleep on the couch with Bubbe above his head, Ernie on his bed at the floor, and Bruce Lee on his chest, rising and falling with each of the human's breaths. Rowan put a quilt over him. After that, the others took off, having school the next day; the hostess insisted they take leftovers.
Reid and Rowan went upstairs. They got dressed for the night before partaking in some sedentary activities. Reid double checked his homework for Human Sexuality. Rowan was updating her website, Animal Row, with a new video clip of Reid sleeping among discarded homework, and Bruce Lee stealing his pencil.
"He still has my pencil," Reid commented.
Rowan chuckled. She finished that, then checked the news updates, or comments that her readers had left. She had a pretty good following from all around the world. It was no Facebook or MySpace (of which she had neither), but Rowan still met good people.
"Row," Reid said, "you ever seen a gynecologist?"
Her eyes widened momentarily before composure took over. He was reading his Human Sexuality textbook. She was taking the same course at her college.
"Uh…"
"You're supposed to see one around age fifteen." He looked up from the book, inquiring mind wanting to know.
"Nope."
"Especially after you start having sex with an annual Pap smear."
Rowan shut down her computer. "I haven't seen one. I don't plan on it."
"I read the main occurrence of cervical cancer is not having an annual Pap smear." All this new information (which you just didn't get in high school) was making him think. The class was actually helping him (go figure) get a deeper understanding of sex and communication between him and Rowan in their marriage, and as individuals. Not that he ever had any issues discussing sex with Rowan, but there was a more technical aspect of it that he'd never thought about very often.
"I'm learning about this in my class, too, Reid," she said. Rowan got under the covers, retrieved her book from the nightstand. And, frankly, the idea of a gynecological procedure scared the bejesus out of her. "Do you wonder what's going through a guy's mind when he decides he wants to be a gynecologist? I mean, looking at a woman's privates every day?"
Okay, Reid thought that was odd, too, but she was changing the subject. "I think you should make an appointment. Seriously."
She frowned. "Do you get checked out regularly?"
"Yeah, we have to. Balls and everything."
Duh, Rowan, she thought, because she already knew that. "I'm glad you're actually enjoying the class, I know you don't take too much interest in many, but this conversation isn't necessary."
Pause. "I think it is."
"Aren't there bigger things to worry about than Pap smears and pelvic exams?" Her hands were clenching her book now (ironically it was Fear of Flying by Erica Jong).
He stared at her, wordless. It wasn't like Rowan to back away from this kind of stuff. She'd been through umpteen physical exams in her life. What with cancer, then the car accident, being in the hospital regularly from fever.
"Tomorrow I'm going to start searching for Deb." Rowan had gotten sidetracked by Hunter's arrival. But she couldn't just flat out ignore Reid's concerns. She'd never do that. If he was bringing this up, then it was seriously important to him. "Then we can talk about this."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
Reid let it go then. Rowan never broke a promise.
xxxx
It was barely sunrise, but Rowan couldn't sleep. The house was quiet, since she couldn't hear the animals breathing she surmised they were still downstairs with Hunter, or that Hunter had relocated to one of the upstairs bedrooms and the animals were still staying with him. The breathing that she could hear was the steady inhale and exhale of her husband, Reid. Always while he slept was a vision of an angel in repose with his fair features. The tattoos marred the image a bit, but he was no less beautiful. He lay on his back, one arm strewn over his stomach, the other up by his head. With a soft smile, Rowan got out of bed, then situated the covers on Reid. Slipping her fuzzy slippers on, she went downstairs to her apothecary.
The strands of Deb's hair were carefully wrapped in herbal paper. She already had a topographical map of the state of Massachusetts on the counter, laid out with nary a crease. Rowan got her mortar and pestle, did some mixing with light powders, a dash of herb here and there, before mixing one strand of hair within. When it was suitably amalgamated she poured some of the powdery mixture over the map. She held her scrying crystal above the map, concentrated on the image of Debra DeMilo.
After a moment, Rowan felt the magic flow through her. The crystal grew light. It began to swing, swing, swing. Circling midair. Finally, the crystal became heavy, and the tipped base of the crystal plunked down on the map. Rowan closed her eyes, she felt the very softest of breezes; she felt the powder on the map rustle, then images the stone collected traveled through her mind. Rowan obtained the name of a street, a pawn shop nearby…
That was all. The breeze stopped like a window slamming shut. Rowan blinked, slowly bringing herself out of the magical stupor. To wrench oneself out of this type of concentration could actually be detrimental to one's psyche. Like rising from deep waters and not gradually letting the air out of your lungs as you rose.
"Morning," Hunter said. He'd been waiting for her to come out of it.
"Good morning." Rowan smiled. She gave him a hug. "How'd you sleep?" Her eyes were inspecting him. Ah, the bruise was gone.
"That was a damned good rest. I needed it," he replied, walking with her to the kitchen.
"Hungry?"
"Definitely. I need to do my calisthenics first."
Rowan nodded. Hunter went off to the empty room across from the living room that Rowan and Reid had not yet decided what to do with. While Hunter did that, Rowan fed the animals and the fish. An hour later, Hunter showered, dressed, and pulled towards the tasty aromas of breakfast, sat his ass on the chair.
Obviously, the smells woke Reid too, because he plodded downstairs in nothing but a pair of sweats, eyes bleary with sleep, hair wildly mussed. It was seven-thirty, and he wanted to do know what the hell he was doing up. Well, he did have class today, but that was beside the point. Though he did perk up when Rowan kissed him good morning.
When they were all seated, Rowan said, "I found the place where Deb's near. I'm going today. And I'm going alone."
Both men stopped mid-chew, forks half way to their mouths. They stared at her, then they glanced at one another. Then they chuckled, swallowed.
"That's a good one," Reid said.
"Hilarious," Hunter tacked on.
"I don't appreciate the sarcasm," she said. "Remember who just made you a two course breakfast meal."
This owed a brief moment of silence of contrition. Hunter spoke first, "Tell me where she is, and I'll go deal with her."
"The husband gets first dibs," the blond said.
Rowan shook her head. "I want to speak with her first. There's been enough violence."
xxxx
How she managed it, they didn't know. Rowan had had the last word. She was going to have a talk with Deb, and that was that. Neither Hunter nor Reid would get to exercise their deep displeasure with Debra DeMilo in person. Reluctantly, and belligerently, Reid went to school, where he had a test in two classes; Hunter went with Rowan. He drove, she gave directions.
When they reached the location of the pawn shop, Rowan used her invisible coil to get the exact place Deb was staying. It didn't surprise Hunter that Deb's choice of residence was a flea-bag motel in the bowels of the city.
"This one." Rowan pointed.
"I think this is the kind of motel that guys go to cheat on their wives." He parked the car in front of Room 11.
Rowan gave him a look.
"Or where working girls get overtime," Hunter said with a saccharine grin. "But no judgment. You gotta make a livin', you know?"
She shook her head. "Ah, but I love you," she lamented, and he chuckled. "I think she's in there. I'm going alone."
His jaw clenched, all revelry gone.
"You'll know if I'm in trouble," she said.
Hunter nodded, reluctantly. This, of course, went against every instinct he had, but Rowan had to square something with Deb. Deb had not just physically attacked her, Rowan had been so before; but Deb had resurrected a nightmare in Rowan, one she'd worked very hard to overcome. And this time, Ernie had been included in that nightmare. It just wasn't done.
Rowan got out of the car, shut the door. She approached Room 11, and knocked. And knocked.
"I'm paid through Thursday!" a cantankerous voice yelled.
Rowan looked back at Hunter. He nodded ever so slightly. She knocked, again.
"I said fuck off!" Deb yelled.
Rowan exhaled. She hadn't wanted to do this. Her hand went over the knob and did a little unlocking spell. Rowan entered without ceremony. It was dark, dank, reeked of nicotine and something else Rowan did not want to contemplate.
"What the-" Deb shot up from the bed. She wore only panties and tank top. "You… What the fuck are you doing?"
Rowan opened the drapes. Deb shaded her eyes.
"Who said you could open those? Who in the hell said you could come in here?"
"I did," she finally said. "When you attacked me, twice. The second time with Ernie in the car."
"Who's Ernie?"
"My dog. He was in the backseat."
"Oh, that."
Anger simmered below the surface. "Ernie is a very beloved member of my family, and he could have died because of your petty machinations of revenge."
Deb groaned, rubbed her eyes. "So...what? You gonna turn me into a toad?"
"No. That would be an insult to all toads everywhere."
For some reason, this mediocre insult got to Deb. Her eyes cleared of their haze, and she stood up a little straighter. "You're too weak to do anything." She approached Rowan, topping her by a few inches. "You took my powers away."
"It was necessary."
"Necessary? It wasn't your choice!"
"It was my choice. You used your magic irresponsibly."
"Oh please! Because you never have, you self-righteous bitch!"
"Every spell, every bit of magic I have used, I have known exactly what it does," Rowan stated. "I knew the consequences, the side effects, and how to reverse it if need be. You could have killed Barry."
Deb snorted. "Please."
"Leaving a human in that state for too long is damaging, mentally and physically. And I'm betting he wasn't even a willing participant. So I took the little power you had." With each word, Rowan felt the indignation welling within her. "And you retaliated. You attacked me from behind, you rammed my car. You knew my dog was in there, because you'd been following me."
"Oh, again with the dog!"
Rowan moved fast. She wasn't a physically strong person, but the unexpectedness of her move gave an edge. She grabbed Deb by the shoulders and pushed her down on the bed so she was sitting. Rowan's hands clenched, not letting up.
"You've pissed me off. No, you've made me very, very angry. I can sit with being attacked, insulted. But my dog? Ernie? No. You could have killed him. You might have."
"Let go," Deb demanded through clenched teeth. Her energy was gone though. She saw something swirling in Rowan's eyes, power. Unmistakable power.
"Be quiet. Be quiet and listen," Rowan's voice lulled. "I am sick and tired of people taking their trivial insecurities out on me. I am the Whitelighter. You called me. If you knew anything about this part of the world, you would have known that I have complete sway over every witch's power in my area. Having that authority makes me uncomfortable, but it's part of my job. So I did it."
Her right hand came off Deb's shoulder, reached in her jacket pocket for her athame. Deb's eyes widened.
"Athames aren't used for killing, typically, anyway," Rowan informed. "Don't worry." She tipped Deb's chin up with the tip of the blade. "I don't trust you. I believe that you will try to come after me again. I believe that you will try to do unlawful magic. No matter where you are, you will try. But this," – Rowan put the tip of the blade in the center of Deb's forehead – "will be a warning to every witch, or informed supernatural, that you are anathema."
With that, Rowan began to trace two words at the center of Deb's forehead. It did not draw blood, it went deep enough to raise red lines.
"Mala fide," Rowan said when she was finished. "That's Latin for 'in bad faith.' Anyone with magic, all the supernatural community, will be able to see this. Forever. And they will know what it means."
Deb blinked, touched her forehead. She rushed to the mirror, stumbling. She saw the foreign words.
"It's kind of like when criminals ran away in ancient times and they would have the word 'fugitive' tattooed on their foreheads," Rowan said. She concealed her athame. "Last words?"
Deb was breathing hard, finally, she spat, "Bitch."
"All right." Rowan turned, went to the door. She looked one last time at Deb, and said, "Have a nice day."
Thank you to those who've continued to read. Hugs of appreciation. :)
There will probably be one more chapter left. Two, tops. And then...well.
I'll see how it goes. Things have dwindled off, I'm not sure if it's because of disinterest or because it's summer and everyone's off doing summer things. *shrugs*
Anywho, always love to know what you think. Thanks again. :D