Spell Struck: Book 2 (The Teen Wytche Saga) by Moon Ariella

Author:Moon, Ariella [Moon, Ariella]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: AMAZON ONLY
Publisher: Astraea Press
Published: 2013-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Over the ringing in my ears, I heard Einstein bark and rush toward the kitchen. Dad. I jerked on Aidan's arm. "We have to get out of here. My dad's home!"

Despite his disoriented expression, Aidan scrambled to his feet and followed me into the hall. With a warning glance at the grimoire, I closed the door and pushed Aidan toward the entryway.

The garage door rumbled down, and Dad opened the door from the garage to the kitchen. "Toothpick?"

Aidan and I sauntered into the kitchen, my backpack and Aidan's frayed black messenger bag in hand. "Hi, Dad. This is Aidan. Aidan, my dad."

Aidan composed himself. "Pleasure to meet you, sir."

Dad loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his sky-blue shirt. "Likewise." The two shook hands. They could not have been more unlike — Aidan with his long, dark, poet's hair and baggy, threadbare clothes, and Dad with his upper-management haircut and tailored suit. To my relief, Dad flashed a welcoming smile. His eyebrow twitched when he glanced from my flushed face to the minor feast still laid out on the table. "A little food to fuel your studies?"

"There's some chili left if you'd like some."

Dad gave me a sideways hug. "Thanks, but I'm good for now. You two polish it off."

I hugged him back. One thing I had learned from Evie — don't take your parents for granted. Accidents happen.

"Which classes do you two have together?" Dad scratched his chin stubble. Silver salted his wavy brown hair.

"Drama and Art," Aidan and I said in unison. "We were about to hone our playwriting skills," I added. "We're doing a takeoff on The Taming of the Shrew."

Dad picked up his briefcase from the floor. "Sounds like fun."

"Any word from Mom?"

His eyes deadened. "They're catching the red-eye tonight."

They, not just Mom. I felt as though I was standing on the beach and a wave had pulled the sand from under my feet. I curled my toes and dug in, afraid I'd topple over and the riptide would drag me under.

"We'll talk later." Dad shifted his attention to Aidan. "What time do you need a ride home? I don't want your guardian to worry."

"I often stay late at the library, so no set time. Whatever works for you."

Dad checked his watch. "Write your play. I have some calls to make and other work to do. If you finish before I do, come get me in the study."

"Sounds good." The rushing sensation abated. "Thanks, Dad."

"Yes. Thanks, Mr. Miller."

Dad tweaked my nose like I was a three-year-old. Maybe he wanted to revert back, like the grimoire, to a different time — back when Amy and I had been his two little princesses and life had seemed simpler.

"We'll still have time for Chinese food tonight. Aidan, you are welcome to join us."

"Thanks, sir."

For a second, life sprung back in Dad's eyes, and he winked at me. I bet he planned to order a massive amount of food, then insist Aidan take home the leftovers. "My door will be open," he warned over his shoulder.

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