I sat through Rowan nervously pushing up his glasses constantly as he talked about how I’d almost died and how he was worried I’d been doing designer drugs—I’m paraphrasing—and that he was worried about how quickly I’d moved on to another relationship. Blah, blah, blah.
I’ll admit, their assumptions about what I’d been going through were making me squirm in my seat.
Then Dahlia took her turn. Unlike Rose and Rowan, she didn’t need to write stuff down. She had a wealth of education and experience behind her words. “Iris, you know how much we love you. How much I love you. I know it’s been difficult for you since Mom’s passing. And then with Evan, I think we can all agree the circumstances would’ve thrown anyone for a loop. Since the divorce, you’ve been distant, depressed, missing family meals, you hardly return any calls, and I’m really worried that even if you’re not doing drugs or drinking, you’ve been self-harming. We’ll always be here for you, but you are going to have to take the next step.”
I arched a brow at my oldest sister. “And what step is that?”
She got up from her seat and crouched in front of me. Dahlia, whose eyes were a blue-green hazel, met my gaze and took my hands in hers. “You have to want help.”
I remembered that I had makeup on my skin, so I quickly tugged my hands away. To cover, I said, “I don’t need help.” Only I did. I was falling apart, literally, but there wasn’t a single person in my family who had the expertise to put me back together again.
The corners of Dahlia’s mouth dipped, and her frown lines deepened. “We can’t force you to be honest with us, Iris.” She gave me a slow blink of disappointment. Dahlia, who was ten years older than me, had perfected the look long before she became a family counselor. “But I hope that you’ll think about what we’ve said here, and you’ll be able to eventually be honest with yourself.”
Dahlia had been Mom’s little helper, babysitting Marigold and me whenever Mom and Dad had to work. Our oldest sister was kind, patient, intelligent, and a master at making me feel like a naughty six-year-old who got caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
I looked to Marigold for help. She shrugged. Nope. No help there. I narrowed my gaze at her, and she leveled me with a “you brought this on yourself” stare.
“Well,” I said as I got up. “It’s been interesting.” I tried to keep my tone neutral. “I take all your concerns seriously. If there’s nothing else, then I’m going to go. Lots to do today.”
“Now, baby girl,” Dad said. “We just want you to be safe and happy.”
Safe hadn’t been in my wheelhouse for quite some time, but I had the heart-stopping realization that even with all the danger and unpredictability, I was happier than I’d been in years. “I hear you, I do. And I’m okay, Dad. Promise.”
Rowan got up and ran his hand over his balding head. “We can’t stop you from leaving. But you can tell us the truth. We love you, Iris.” That seemed to be the consensus. “We’re on your side.”
“Guys, really.” I waved off their concerns, but inside I was dying. I wanted to be honest with them. Hiding what was going on with me, what I’d become, from my family, was harder than almost dying. But now, when my magic was so unstable, didn’t seem like the best time to reveal my witchiness. “When I’m ready to talk, I’ll let you know. Promise.”
Dahlia walked over to me, her expression full of worry and consternation. She licked her thumb and wiped at my cheek. Shit. She’d revealed one of my bruises to the family.
I swatted her hand away.
“What happened to you?” she demanded.
“You should see the other guy,” I half-joked.
Dahlia’s face pinched with anger. “No,” she said. “This isn’t funny. Who hit you, Iris? Did Keir do this?”
“No, absolutely not.” I couldn’t tell her that my bruises were a combination of a satyr’s horns and a bunch of faux-leprechauns with wooden staffs. “He would never hit me.”
“Bullshit,” she said. “He’s a classic abuser. Why didn’t I see it? He comes off as Mr. Perfect, seduces you, then little by little, he separates you from all the people who love you so that he can completely control you.”
“Stop it, Dahlia.” I moved out of her reach. “Keir didn’t lay a finger on me. He is not trying to control me or keep me from you all.”
“Then who?” Her mouth dropped open. “Oh. Please, no. Is it Michael? Is he lashing out because of trauma over Evan?”
“His dad is bisexual. He didn’t beat him.” Rowan was trying to give me a physical examination now. I side-stepped my two oldest siblings. Rose had started crying. My poor dad was getting red in the face. This was the last thing he needed.
Then Marigold stood up. “Enough!” she yelled. She was usually the chill sister, so her outrage made everyone shut up. “Everybody, sit down,” she ordered. “And quit badgering Iris. I know for a fact that neither Keir nor Michael have been abusing her, so let that shit go.” She snapped at Rose. “For the love of Pete, Rose. Quit crying. You’re not helping things here.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” Rose said, then cried some more. “It’s hormones.”
I looked at our youngest sister. “Are you pregnant?”
She nodded as she choked on a snotty sob. “It’s still early, so Don and I were keeping it under wraps until the second trimester.”
Holy crap. Rose was forty. I couldn’t imagine starting all over with a new baby. “It’s good news, right?”
She nodded and hiccupped.
“Nope,” Marigold said. “Congrats, Rose, but today is not about you.”
Dahlia was like a pixie with a boner. She wasn’t going to stop, no matter how inconvenient it was for me. “Someone is abusing you, Iris. I’ve been doing this long enough that I can’t believe I missed the signs.”
Rowan started in on me next. “We should go to the hospital and do a full work-up complete with nail scrapings for DNA and take pictures. You might not want to press charges now, but someday you could change your mind.”
Dear Lord. This intervention was never going to end.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Marigold said. Then she turned to our father and winced. “Sorry, Dad.”
He shook his head. “I’m thinking far worse.”
“I’m a witch,” I said quietly as Rowan and Dahlia fought over what I should do next, Marigold simmered, Dad looked confused, and Rose would not stop crying. “I’m a witch.” This time I said it louder.
Marigold did a slow clap. “Finally. The truth comes out.”
“Stop trying to make jokes,” Dahlia said. “It’s a coping mechanism.”
“Jokes can make bad situations better,” Rowan disagreed. “At least she’s saying something.”
“Yeah,” I told him. “I’m saying I’m a witch. I have a familiar and a grimoire and everything. I can even cast a spell or two. But I probably shouldn’t right now because the last spell I cast killed me.”
Marigold was sipping tea when I’d said the last bit and ended up spraying it all over the floor. “You what?” she asked sharply.
I shook my head at her. “I came back to life. Not a big deal.” Only it had been a big deal. A really big deal that had nearly broken the love of my life. He said I’d been dead for eight whole minutes. I’m still not sure how he managed to bring me back to life. “Anywhooooo,” I went on. “My magic sparked to life a day or two after the divorce. That’s why I’ve been distancing myself from you all. Granted, I hadn’t realized that’s what I was doing. It’s hard to see all the stuff from the outside when you’re constantly being put in the thick of it, you know?”
My sisters, brother, and father looked dumbfounded.
“She’s hysterical,” Rowan said.
“That’s not an actual diagnosis, Ro,” Dahlia said. “Just because a woman has a breakdown doesn’t mean it’s hysteria. Men have breakdowns all the time, and no one accuses them of hysteria, do they?”
“I’m not hysterical, and I’m not having a breakdown. I’m a tru-craft witch. And the reason I’m bruised is because I am protecting a pack of mating pixies until they have their babies in like two or three days.”
Marigold groaned. “Baby steps, Iris. That sounds crazy to me, and I know it’s the truth.”
“Well, I’m being as honest as I can be. I don’t want to hide who I am anymore or what I’m going through from you guys. I love you. I’m really not trying to cut you out of my life.”
“Prove it,” Rowan said.
“Like I said, I can’t do magic right now because I can’t afford the cost. Magic comes at a price.” I rolled my hand at my brother as if the gesture could turn back time. “Remember when I thought I’d been roofied, then I almost died?”
“That’s not something I’m likely to forget,” he said.
“That’s when my magic had been triggered. I was learning about terra-craft, earth magic, and it was basically burning me up from the inside. It nearly killed me until I learned how to control it. Right now, I’m having a similar problem with air magic.”
“This is delusional and fantasist,” Dahlia said. “Often when someone’s abused, they make up stories, especially if they love their attacker, in order to protect them.”
“Thank you, Dr. Bill,” I said, knowing how much Dahlia hated Dr. Bill and his armchair psychiatry. “But I’m not making this up.” The makeup on my right hand was smudged, and I could see some shiny bits showing through. “Okay, I’ve got proof, but no one gets to freak out.”
Marigold shook her head. “Too late for that.”
I yanked my long sleeve up, exposing my slightly transparent arm.
Dahlia frowned and took a step back.
Rowan took a step forward. “Is that an optical illusion?”
“No,” I told him. “That’s air magic. It’s consumed part of my body.” I lifted the shirt at the waist.”
Collectively, my siblings gasped.
“This isn’t possible,” Dahlia said. “Magic doesn’t exist.”
“You’d be surprised,” Marigold told her. “All kinds of things exist.”
Rose sniffled. “What about Keir and Luanne? Are they witches too?”
I shook my head. “Druids. Keir is my soul-bond. We were born two hours apart, and he has spent his entire life getting strong so that he could be my defender.” I held out my hands. “We’re a team. He would sooner take his own life than harm me.” Without a doubt, I knew it to be true. “And Luanne is a warrior. She has been fighting for me and beside me since all this started. There are people who have hurt me or tried to hurt me because of my magic, and Keir and Luanne have helped to keep me safe. So, as you can see, there is no hospital, rehabilitation center, women’s shelter, or law enforcement agency that can fix my problems. That’s something that I have to do myself.” I took a deep breath and held it as I tried to center my feelings. The emotional turmoil was causing the air magic I’d slowed down to stir beneath the surface. “I’m keeping my distance,” I told them all, “because I couldn’t live with myself if something terrible happened to any of you because of me.”
For a few seconds, all I could hear was the whirring sound of Dad’s old air conditioner as it kicked on. Dad put down the footrest of his easy chair, then got up and walked over to me. He put his arms around me and held me tight. His hug was perfect, a healing balm on my wounded heart.
“I wish I knew what to say or do for you, baby girl,” Dad said.
“This is it,” I told him. “This hug. It’s everything.”
“You are loved,” he said. “Always.”
Marigold wrapped her arms around both of us. Then Rose got up and joined in. Then Rowan and Dahlia.
After a few moments of holding my family, breathing in their scents, taking in their love, I was crying as hard as Rose.
“Keep this up, and someone’s going to think we’re all pregnant,” I said.
Everyone laughed except Rose, who said, “Hey, now.”
Then we laughed some more.
I’d finally come clean to my family. I wasn’t sure if they all understood everything I’d said about the supernatural world, but at least I wouldn’t have to lie anymore. On top of that, Marigold no longer had to lie for me.
Still, I had responsibilities that required tending. “I have to go,” I said as we broke the group hug. “I have a bargain to keep. But I promise to tell you all more as soon as I’m finished.”
Dahlia grasped my wrist before I could leave. “You know I’m here for you.”
“I do,” I told her. “I never doubt that.”
She nodded, then let go of me. “If you need anything, call me. Day or night. I will always pick up the phone for you.”
I felt a pinch of guilt over the handful of times I’d let her calls go to voicemail. “Thanks, Dahl. Sorry, I’m such a shit.”
Her eyes softened when she smiled. “Little sisters are good at being shits. I forgive you.”
“Because big sisters are good at that.”
She smirked. “I’m still not sure I believe all this hocus pocus stuff.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “You’ll have time to get used to it.” At least, I hoped she would. I’d unloaded a lot of information on my family in a short amount of time. Eventually, this was going to require a bigger conversation.
Marigold walked me out to the car. She draped an arm over my shoulder. “It took me a few weeks to embrace the new Iris. Those guys will come around.”
“I need to hire you as my publicist.” I leaned my head on her shoulder, thankful to fate for not only giving me an awesome family but a sister who was also the best friend I could’ve asked for. She was always there for me, no matter how bad I screwed up.
Marigold sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Nope. I have a job, and it doesn’t include fixing your life.”
I smiled at her. “Could’ve fooled me.”