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were all the times we went to church just part of this illusion
the two of you created?”
    “We are Christian,
Portia. All of that is true. We’ve never tried to lead you astray in that
regard,” Dad stated calmly. “Being a witch is just part of who we are, our
genetic makeup, if you will. It doesn’t take away our belief system. We’ve
always believed in God and Jesus.”
    “I thought witches
worshipped some goddess or something.” I realized I knew absolutely nothing
about witchcraft other than what I’d seen in stories, movies, or heard in
history class.
    “Some covens do,”
Grandma explained with a nod of her head. “It’s the same as any belief system
anywhere. The people choose what religion they believe and what they’re
comfortable with. Ours just happens to be full of Christian people and we
choose to believe in God as our higher power. But we also believe that magic
can come from many different elements and directions—even some involving other
religious beliefs.”
    “Okay.” I let that
sink in for a moment. I guess that made sense, sort of.
    “What else do you
want to know?” my dad asked, and I knew I had to find out about the next thing
or my curiosity would kill me.
    “Vance Mangum,” I
said, not a question but a statement.
    My dad sighed and
sat back in his chair, shaking his head slightly.
    “Vance has been a
member of the coven for the past two years, since he came here,” Grandma said,
when my dad didn’t answer. “His aunt’s in our coven also. You met her tonight,
the woman named Marsha. Only she isn’t exactly his aunt.”
    “What do you
mean?” I was totally curious.
    “Vance is under
the protection of our coven,” Dad spoke up.
    “For what reason?”
    “We’re hiding
him.” He hesitated for a second before continuing, “From his father.”
    “What? Why?” I
demanded to know.
    “It’s Vance’s
story to tell,” Grandma interrupted. “But please trust us, Portia. His father
is a very bad man.”
    “Is Vance a … a,”
I faltered for the right word, “a warlock then or not?”
    “He’s one of the
most powerful warlocks I’ve ever seen at his age,” Dad answered truthfully. “I’ve
never encountered powers like his in someone so young, or even in most adults.”
    I grabbed my head
between my hands and rubbed my temples, resting my elbows on the table. My mind
was throbbing with unanswered questions, but there was just too much to
comprehend all at once.
    “Why don’t we all
go to bed?” Grandma suggested, reaching out to squeeze my shoulder. “We can
talk more about this tomorrow. Let’s get some rest for now. The two of you are
welcome to stay here tonight.”
    My dad shook his
head, pushing away from the table to stand up.
    “I can’t, Mom. Stacey
will be home from the hospital soon, so I’ll go home to sleep. Portia can stay
here, though,” he offered. “That way you can show her some more things in the
morning. Is that okay with you, Pumpkin?” he asked me, and I nodded my head
wearily.
    “All right then. Drive
safe and have a good night, Sean,” Grandma replied, giving my dad a peck on the
cheek.
    Dad gave her a
quick hug, turned and hugged me. “Get some sleep. It’ll all be better in the
morning, I promise.”
    I nodded numbly as
I returned his embrace.
    After Grandma
shuttled him out the door, she locked it and led me down the hall to the guest
bedroom.
    I’d always loved
spending the night in this room. It was decorated in beautiful sky blue and
white colors. The white four-poster bed was covered in a thick down comforter,
and the mattress was one of those comfy beds made with the tempered foam stuff
astronauts used on the space shuttle.
    Grandma removed
the throw pillows from the bed and turned the covers back.
    “I think you still
have some tank tops and shorts in the drawer over there from the last time you
stayed,” she said, nodding toward the dresser.
    I went to check
and found one of my white tops with a pair of tan plaid