“Which will give you enough time to understand the implications of your decision to the fullest,” Dad said.
I whirled on him. “Okay, first of all, no one talks like that. Secondly, Ido understand the implications of my decision. Removing my powers will keep me from potentially killing someone.”
“Sophie, we’ve talked about this,” Mom said, speaking for the first time since we’d come into Mrs. Casnoff’s office. “It’s not a foregone conclusion that you will kill someone. Or that you’ll even try. Your father has never lost control of his powers.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with one hand. “And it’s just so drastic, honey. I don’t think you should risk your life for a ‘what if?’”
“Your mother is right,” Mrs. Casnoff said. “And bear in mind that you decided to go through the Removal less than twenty-four hours after watching the death of a friend. More time to weigh your options might be a good thing.”
I sat back down on the couch. “I get what you guys are saying. I do. But…” I looked at the three of them, settling finally on my dad, the only person I thought might understand what I was about to say. “I saw Alice. I saw what she was, what she did, what she was capable of.” I dropped my eyes to the faded cabbage roses on Mrs. Casnoff’s carpet, but I was seeing Elodie, pale and streaked with blood. “I don’t ever—ever—want to be like that. I really would rather die.”
Mom made a choked noise, and Mrs. Casnoff suddenly became fascinated by something on her desk.
But Dad nodded. “All right,” he said. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“James,” Mom said sharply.
Their eyes met and something passed between them before Dad continued. “Your year here at Hecate Hall is almost over. Come spend the summer with me, and at the end of that time, if you still want to go through the Removal, I’ll allow it.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What, like at your house? In England?” My pulse sped up. There had been three sightings of Archer in England.
Dad paused, and for one awful moment I wondered if he could read minds. But he just said, “England, yes. My house, no. I’ll be staying with…friends for the summer.”
“And they won’t care if you bring your daughter?”
He smiled at some private joke. “Trust me. They have room.”
“What exactly is this supposed to accomplish?” I was trying to sound haughty and disdainful, but I’m afraid it just came off as petulant.
Dad began fishing in his coat for something, but when he pulled out a thin brown cigarette, Mrs. Casnoff made a disapproving cluck. He sighed and put the cigarette back.
“Sophie,” he said, sounding frustrated, “I want to get to know you, and have you get to know me, before you decide to throw your powers—and possibly your life—away. You don’t even fully comprehend what it means to be a demon yet.”
I thought about Dad’s offer. On the one hand, I was not exactly his biggest fan right now, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend time on a whole other continent with him.
But if I didn’t, I’d be stuck as a demon for a lot longer.
Also, my mom had given up the house she’d been renting in Vermont, so I’d probably be spending all summer at Hecate with just her and the teachers. Ugh.
And then there was England. Archer.
“Mom?” I asked, wondering if she had some motherly input. She seemed pretty shaken up, which was understandable, what with watching me nearly get killed, then having to deal with Dad.
“I’d miss you like crazy, but your dad makes a good point.” Her eyes were bright with tears, but she blinked them back and nodded. “I think you should go.”
“Thank you, Grace,” Dad said quietly.
I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I told him. “I’ll go. But I want to bring Jenna.”
She didn’t have anywhere to go this summer either, and I wanted at least one friendly face if I was going to spend a whole summer embracing my demon-ness or whatever.
“Fine,” Dad said, without hesitation.
That took me by surprise, but I tried to seem nonchalant as I said, “Awesome.”
“That reminds me,” Dad said to Mrs. Casnoff. “I was wondering if it would be all right for Alexander Callahan to come with us as well.”
“Who the heck is Alexander Callahan?” I asked. “Oh, right. Cal.”
It was weird to think of him asAlexander. It was such a formal name. Cal suited him a lot better.
“Of course,” Mrs. Casnoff said, all business again. “I’m sure we can manage without him for a few months. Although without his healing powers, we’ll certainly have to invest in more bandages.”
“Why do you want to bring Cal?” I asked.
Dad’s fingers strayed to his suit pocket again. “Council business, mostly. Alexander’s powers are unique, so we’d like to interview him, possibly run a few tests.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, and something told me Cal wouldn’t either.
“And it will give the two of you a chance to get to know one another better,” Dad continued.
A sense of dread slowly began creeping up my spine. “Cal and I know each other well enough,” I said. “Why would I want to know him better?”
“Because,” Dad said, finally meeting my eyes, “you and he are betrothed.”
chapter 3
It took me a good thirty minutes to find Cal. That was actually a good thing, because it gave me plenty of time to come up with something to say to him that wasn’t just a string of four-letter words.
There are a lot of freaky things witches and warlocks do, obviously, but the arranged marriage thing was one of the grossest. When a witch is thirteen, her parents hook her up with an available warlock, based on things like compatible powers and family alliances. The entire thing is so eighteenth century.
As I stomped across school grounds, all I could see was Cal sitting with my dad in some manly room with leather chairs and dead animals on the wall, chomping on cigars as Dad formally signed me away to him. They probably even high-fived.
Okay, so it’s not like either of them are exactly the cigar-and-high-fives type, but still.
I finally found Cal in the potting shed behind the greenhouse, where our Defense classes were held. His talent for healing extended to plants, and he was running his hands over a browned and drooping azalea when I flung open the door. He squinted as a shaft of late afternoon sunlight flooded in behind me.
“Did you know I’m your fiancée?” I demanded.
Cal muttered something under his breath and turned back to the plant.
“Did you?” I asked again, even though I clearly had my answer.
“Yes,” he replied.
I stood there waiting for him to say something else, but that was apparently all Cal had to say.
“Well, I’m not going to marry you,” I said. “I think this whole arranged marriage thing is gross and barbaric.”
“Okay.”
There was a bag of potting soil by the door, and I scooped up a handful to fling at his back. Before it hit, he raised his hand and the dirt froze in midair. It hovered there for a moment before floating slowly back to the bag.
“I just can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me,” I said, sitting on an unopened bag.
“I didn’t see the point.”
“What does that mean?”
He dusted his hands off on his jeans and turned to face me. He was streaked with sweat, and his damp T- shirt was clinging to his chest in ways that would have been interesting if I wasn’t so irritated with him. As usual, he looked more like an all-American high school quarterback than a warlock.
