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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 16 th 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.
    Willow paused suddenly and effectively
brought me to a stop when I nearly tripped over her.
    “She’s