Caged in Darkness (Caged #1)(11)

“The Cross girl is an adolescent, which means she is likely to be guided by her hormones and nothing more. Girls at that age don’t care about anything other than themselves and boys. This is how we can be certain she will choose us for her initiation. Liam will seduce her into falling in love with him, and when she does, she won’t dare choose another coven for fear of losing him.”

Oh, God. My blood began to rush, while a roaring began in my ears. I saw black, as I ground my teeth and induced a migraine. My mother expected me to pimp myself out to a teenage witch, who had mostly likely been a pampered little princess from the day she was born. The Cross family was one of the highest lineages in the paranormal community. Famous, Rich, and Royalty; meant that she would probably be a spoiled, opinionated ditz, with no idea what the real world was like. I couldn’t believe my mother expected me to seduce that.

After the coven dissipated, my mother found me in her suite. The floor was evidence of my continued pacing, while waiting for her to finish with the coven.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I asked. “Offering my help to the coven, without even speaking to me about it?”

“What’s the matter? At least we will finally put your womanizing talent to good use.” Diamante challenged. She sat at her vanity and pulled her black hair down to brush, while looking at me in the mirror.

“I only date non-witches. There is no way I am helping you with this scheme. You want me to seduce a 16 year old? Are you crazy?” I crossed my arms and leaned against the post of her four poster bed.

Diamante pursed her lips. “I have understood your rebellion. I haven’t asked for you to take responsibility, as my son. I’ve let you do what you want, when you have wanted, but this is enough. You will do this for me. It’s for the best of the coven, which means it is for your own good.” She spun in her seat to face me.

I studied her face, taking special note of the anger in her eyes. She didn’t permit members of the coven to question or refuse her. I was the only one who dared, and as her only son she allowed me some leniency.

“It won’t work. I seduce, but I don’t romance. I wouldn’t know the first thing about making a girl fall in love with me. You should get someone else to do it.”

“I trust you to do it.” She stood, and walked over to grasp my hands. “You’re my son. The others would view it as an insult, were I to ask anyone other than you. Besides your seduction methods tend to convince women that they are in love with you, rather than recognizing their feelings as lust. We just need her to believe she is in love with you, long enough for her to take her vows.” She took my chin in a painful grip and forced me to look at her. “You will do this, or never ask for anything from me again.”

I couldn’t look away. I knew when I was dealing with my mother and when I was dealing with my High Priestess. Right now, she was not my mother and I could not refuse my Priestess.

“Of course I will do ask you ask.” I bowed my head in defeat, and she smiled. She was my mother again.

“Make sure you ask the cook to make you something to eat before you leave. Too much junk food isn’t good for you.” She turned her cheek for me to kiss.

I walked away feeling that my will had been stolen.





Savannah





Later that afternoon, Izzy surprised me by taking us to the strip in Landing, rather than the mall. She must have been taking pity on us, because normally she would jump at the chance to subject us to a day of endless shopping at the mall.

Izzy parents had gifted her with a beat up rust colored Pontiac for her 16th birthday. The air conditioning didn’t work, but the stereo did and Izzy thought that made the car a dream. It didn’t matter that the Pontiac had seen more birthdays than she or that it was a gas guzzler, as long as she could listen to music she was happy. On the other hand, Willow and I were miserable. By the time we pulled up to the strip, we were anxious to begin shopping if it meant relief from the heavy metal beating away at our ears.

Izzy led us towards a store called “The Gothic Tea Party”, which I considered an oxymoron, but made sense once entering the store. I gazed around at the strange assortment of clothing. The store was filled with clothes that merged designer with classic gothic and punk. I’ve heard Izzy wax on about this store ever since it opened six months ago, but I didn’t really believe anything she had said.

I was surprised to find that the mirage of apparel appealed to my inner fashionista or at least the tiny part of me that wanted to wear beautiful dresses. It was strange that it took gothic meeting couture to make shopping fun. Next to me, Willow gazed around her in surprise. She met my eyes and we both looked to see Izzy beaming at us.

Izzy was in her element as she buzzed around the store, collecting dresses in an array of colors featuring mostly black, burgundy, and silver. Occasionally, she would walk up to Willow or me to hold a dress against us to see if it was flattering. During these examinations, she would purse her lips and nod as though having a conversation with her mental fashion twin.

Willow and I walked around absently, occasionally trailing our fingers against an outfit here and there. The night before Maye had given me enough money to purchase a small wardrobe, knowing that I rarely wanted to go shopping. Maye took advantage of the occasion and made me promise to buy more than just a single dress. I guess that meant I was turning Goth couture. I wondered what Maye would think of my odd choice in clothing.