Read Online The Witches of Dark Root: Daughters of Dark Root: Book One (The Daughters of Dark Root) by April Aasheim - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: April Aasheim
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picked it up and made away with it. Before I could react, Jason was on him, pulling it back, daring him to try something like that again.
The man backed off, shaggy and apologetic, and vanished into the throngs.
I shivered, rubbing my arms to fight off the goose bumps.
I had been thinking more of comfort than warmth when dressing, and I wore only a t-shirt, a skirt, and a pair of combat boots. I thought briefly of rifling through my suitcase to locate a sweater, but I had barely been able to close the suitcase the first time. I wasn’t sure if I could do it again.
“No one’s forcing you to go,” Jason said as we stood in line for a ticket.
There was a family ahead of us, a young woman with a baby in her arms and two crying children tugging at her blouse. She cooed at the baby and hissed at the children, trying to quiet them all.
“...Nobody wants you to go,” he said.
I smiled at him. We had known each other since Michael found me in Dark Root seven years ago. For the first several months, it was just the three of us and the Battlestar Gasholica, the name Jason lovingly gave to our van. I was suddenly seized by memories of arguing with Jason over who would get to use the pile of dirty laundry for a pillow, or who got to drive while the other read maps. While Michael had been the closest thing I ever had to a boyfriend, Jason had been the closest thing to a brother.
“Woodhaven is Michael’s place,” I answered. “Not mine.”
I stared through a large, open window as number 721 pulled in, the bus that matched the ticket in my hand.
“That’s not true.” Jason tossed my suitcase onto the luggage cart and walked me to my terminal. “I was there when it was just Michael, remember? We were nothing then. It might be his in name but it was your magic, Maggie. Before you came, we were just a couple of kids talking bullshit philosophies. You made it real.”
He looked down at the linoleum floor as we moved up in line, avoiding the gum and cigarette butts.
“...I still remember when you predicted that earthquake a few years back in LA,” he said. “Made us all get up in the middle of the night and leave town. I gotta admit, I thought you were crazy, but sure enough, the next day...well, I’m just glad we weren’t there. What you call witchery, I call God, and he moves through you. Believe that, okay?” Jason flushed and looked at the door as the line before us disappeared into the bus. “You are one of the most special women I’ve ever met.”
I felt my face change color. “Thank you, Jason. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
“It’s true. I hope whoever is getting you recognizes that.”
“I doubt it,” I said, looking past him. “In Dark Root, Sasha Shantay is the star of the show. We’re all just extras.”
“Sasha? Your mom, right? Sorry, you don’t talk about her much.”
I nodded. “She never liked for us to call her mom. Said it made her feel old.” I had to laugh. My mother seemed to have been born old, and no amount of witchcraft or Mary Kay could change that. Although she claimed to be not a day older than thirty-five, her gray roots and loose bosom gave her away.
“That’s what families are for, right? To make you crazy.”
“I should have asked you years ago, Jason. Where is your family?” I felt guilty. I had known this man for a quarter of my life and I knew so little about him. But all of us at Woodhaven, those who stayed anyway, were running from something.
Jason’s eyes softened. “They’re all gone, Mags. It’s just me.” He spread his hands and smiled. “Family is important, even if they do make you a little nuts.”
For the first time in years, I took a good look at him. He was not the thin, acne-ridden twenty-three-year-old I remembered from the past. He was tanned and muscular and when he smiled, devastatingly handsome. I cursed Michael for making me love him when there were men like Jason on this
The man backed off, shaggy and apologetic, and vanished into the throngs.
I shivered, rubbing my arms to fight off the goose bumps.
I had been thinking more of comfort than warmth when dressing, and I wore only a t-shirt, a skirt, and a pair of combat boots. I thought briefly of rifling through my suitcase to locate a sweater, but I had barely been able to close the suitcase the first time. I wasn’t sure if I could do it again.
“No one’s forcing you to go,” Jason said as we stood in line for a ticket.
There was a family ahead of us, a young woman with a baby in her arms and two crying children tugging at her blouse. She cooed at the baby and hissed at the children, trying to quiet them all.
“...Nobody wants you to go,” he said.
I smiled at him. We had known each other since Michael found me in Dark Root seven years ago. For the first several months, it was just the three of us and the Battlestar Gasholica, the name Jason lovingly gave to our van. I was suddenly seized by memories of arguing with Jason over who would get to use the pile of dirty laundry for a pillow, or who got to drive while the other read maps. While Michael had been the closest thing I ever had to a boyfriend, Jason had been the closest thing to a brother.
“Woodhaven is Michael’s place,” I answered. “Not mine.”
I stared through a large, open window as number 721 pulled in, the bus that matched the ticket in my hand.
“That’s not true.” Jason tossed my suitcase onto the luggage cart and walked me to my terminal. “I was there when it was just Michael, remember? We were nothing then. It might be his in name but it was your magic, Maggie. Before you came, we were just a couple of kids talking bullshit philosophies. You made it real.”
He looked down at the linoleum floor as we moved up in line, avoiding the gum and cigarette butts.
“...I still remember when you predicted that earthquake a few years back in LA,” he said. “Made us all get up in the middle of the night and leave town. I gotta admit, I thought you were crazy, but sure enough, the next day...well, I’m just glad we weren’t there. What you call witchery, I call God, and he moves through you. Believe that, okay?” Jason flushed and looked at the door as the line before us disappeared into the bus. “You are one of the most special women I’ve ever met.”
I felt my face change color. “Thank you, Jason. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me in a long time.”
“It’s true. I hope whoever is getting you recognizes that.”
“I doubt it,” I said, looking past him. “In Dark Root, Sasha Shantay is the star of the show. We’re all just extras.”
“Sasha? Your mom, right? Sorry, you don’t talk about her much.”
I nodded. “She never liked for us to call her mom. Said it made her feel old.” I had to laugh. My mother seemed to have been born old, and no amount of witchcraft or Mary Kay could change that. Although she claimed to be not a day older than thirty-five, her gray roots and loose bosom gave her away.
“That’s what families are for, right? To make you crazy.”
“I should have asked you years ago, Jason. Where is your family?” I felt guilty. I had known this man for a quarter of my life and I knew so little about him. But all of us at Woodhaven, those who stayed anyway, were running from something.
Jason’s eyes softened. “They’re all gone, Mags. It’s just me.” He spread his hands and smiled. “Family is important, even if they do make you a little nuts.”
For the first time in years, I took a good look at him. He was not the thin, acne-ridden twenty-three-year-old I remembered from the past. He was tanned and muscular and when he smiled, devastatingly handsome. I cursed Michael for making me love him when there were men like Jason on this
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