Weaver

Distractions

She felt like she was overheating, even though the first thing she’d done when she’d retreated up to her bedroom was open the window to let fresh air in. Alice sat cross-legged on the quilt that her Aunt Ruby had made, she was staring down at the photo in her hand, anything to distract her from thoughts about what had just happened. The same phrases kept going round and round in her brain, things like, it wasn’t his fault and you can’t fight magic but she’d discovered over the last hour that the problem was her. She wanted to be mad at him, she wanted to scream at him, call him a cheating bastard and slam the door in his face. She couldn’t, how could she? But the image of Sara kissing him kept popping up, kept replaying in her head like a horrible movie. Why did he have to let her approach like that? Why couldn’t he have been more assertive when she first started talking to him? Why couldn’t he have told her to get lost?

                She huffed out a frustrated breath and tipped over onto her back, trying to remember that in spite of the magic, he’d still pushed her away. He’d still retained enough of himself to realize that the kiss was wrong. It took amazing force of will to resist a spell. She knew that, so why did she keep wanting to get mad at him?

                Because my anger effects him.

                It was true. She’d seen the look on his face when he’d realized what had just happened, he’d looked stricken, horrified.

                He looked afraid.

                That was why she wanted to lash out at him, because it was effective. She was simply transferring her anger at Sara, because she knew Sara wouldn’t care. Sara wouldn’t be hurt or afraid if she screamed at her.

                Although her nose will hurt for a while…

                She couldn’t help but smile at that particular thought. Sara had had that coming for a long time, and she wouldn’t hesitate to admit it had felt good.

                “What would you have done, Aunt Ruby?” Alice murmured.

                The grey-haired woman in the photo beamed back at her with rosy cheeks. She didn’t look like someone who would have gotten herself into a scrap like that, then again…Alice peered more closely at the rosy cheeks, at the hint of a sparkle in the woman’s eyes. Her aunt had definitely had a big personality, there was no doubt about that.

                “You probably would have bashed her too, huh?” Alice grinned, then her smile faded slightly as she caught sight of something she hadn’t noticed before, a tiny blur of silver around Aunt Ruby’s neck. The photo wasn’t super close up, but if she squinted, she thought she could make out a necklace, a little silver half crescent hung around her Aunt’s neck. When she scanned the rest of her Aunt’s companions she saw the same necklace on each one of them.

                “What…”

                She put the photo down on the quilt in front of her and grabbed the links of her charm bracelet, tugging it around her wrist so the little half-moon charm was resting on the back of her hand. The moon, the one charm on her bracelet that had never done anything. Of course, she’d spent time wondering what it meant, what the charm did. Her and Azura had even joked about it, saying it must affect the tides, or it meant Alice would turn into a werewolf someday. But she’d never guessed that it might be some kind of…symbol. The bracelet had been Ruby’s, something her aunt had given her at a very young age. So what did the half-moon mean? Were these people some kind of cult?