Magical Influence Book One (11 page)

I sneered at
her
. “Who
cares, my point is, I'm not going to wear a summer dress whilst its
freezing outside, it's gusty, and it's bound to rain at any moment.
I'll be freezing. Everybody will look at me like I'm
mad.”

“Correction, everybody will look at you
like you don't care what the weather is, like you don't care what
they think about you, like you don't care about the rules, like you
wear exactly what you want when you want to. Like you are a
powerful, self-directed young woman.”

Letting my hands slip down my skirt as
I played with the hem, I stared at my grandmother warily. It wasn't
that I didn't want to believe what she was saying; I had to respect
she was a great deal more powerful than me. It was just that it
sounded too fantastic, too bizarre, too disconnected from
reality.

But I didn't have the energy to fight
her on this one. Instead I turned back to the mirror and made a
face at myself.

It wasn't that I didn't like the
dress; it was very pretty, far more attractive than anything I
usually wore. It had a 60s style to it, a belt at the waist,
pinching the fabric in, and a wonderfully flouncy skirt. It had a
delicate floral pattern on it, which seemed to match even my plain
tastes.

“Stop looking at yourself, time for
action,” my grandmother ordered.

“You mean time to go to Vinnie and beg him
to give us a car?” I picked up the brush on the counter and ran it
through my hair, teasing out the knots my tossing and turning from
last night had caused.

“Beg?
Demand
,” she corrected.

She was really going full bore on this
whole powerful witch thing. It was a testament to how serious the
situation must be for my grandmother to postpone her dementia to
get me through this.

Despite the fact I had just eaten, my
stomach gave a growl. It didn't signify that I was hungry, just a
tendril of nerves travelling through my system, disrupting whatever
sense of security I'd managed to gain that morning.

“No time to spare, come downstairs and we
will begin to get your life sorted out.”

“How exactly are we going to get to
Vinnie's?” As I followed her down the stairs, I tried to be extra
careful not to put my foot through one of the faulty
floorboards.

It didn't work. As I put my full
weight down, one of the blighters cracked, and I was flung
forward.

Fortunately I didn't tumble head over
heels down our ridiculously long staircase and break my neck; my
grandmother, quick as a flash, caught me.

“Resist the urge to fall over,” she looked
straight in my eyes, her expression stiff and serious.

It hadn’t been an urge; it had been an
accident.

“This day, and the days to come, will
challenge you. Resist the urge to be challenged.” With that she let
go of me, ensured I could stand, went back to thumbing her pearls,
and walked down the rest of the stairs.

If only life were that easy. If only
you could click your fingers and decide to ignore all your trials
and tribulations.

If only I hadn’t just lost my job, my
car, and my sanity, and if only a whole bevy of angry and malignant
magical creatures weren’t after me life.

By the time we made it to the
front door, a frown had settled on my lips
. “It's quite windy out there, and if
I'm any judge of the weather, it looks as if it is about to rain,”
I pointed up at the clouds as my grandmother opened the
door.

“If you are any judge of the weather?
Don't question your abilities; make a statement and make it right.
If reality dares do something other than what you have decreed,
wrestle it into the state you want it to be in.”

My cheek twitched at that. Right, of
course. If it didn't start raining in five minutes, I would just
hop on the nearest plane, head up into the clouds, jump out, and
start wrestling them. That would fix everything.

Pushing my hand over my brow, I
managed a slight, frustrated smile, and followed my grandmother out
of the house
. “Seriously though, how are we going to get to Vinnie's?
He is all the way across the other side of town. And if we walk, we
will get wet.”

“That's the spirit. Not we might get wet,
but we will. Take a deep breath, sneer, and tell the world exactly
how it will be, and it won't dare do anything
different.”

Narrowing my eyes at the back
of her head as I followed her down the garden path, I
realized it would
be a long day. Not only would there be the persistent risk of the
rest of my life crumbling in a heap before me, but I would have to
put up with my grandmother's new found bluster.

“Now to answer your question, we will get
to Vinnie’s via the bus.”

“The bus?”

“Yes, we may be witches, but that does not
put us above affordable public transport. We do not have the money
for a taxi, the bus is our only option.”

“But the next bus stop isn’t for several
blocks,” as I pointed that out, I tugged down firmly on my hem,
casting my glance over to the nearest tree as a gust of wind shook
the leaves. I really didn't want to walk for several blocks in this
dress; I would have to be on constant guard duty lest the damn
thing blow away.

“It will give you a chance to practice
your powerful witch woman walk.”

Right, of course it would.

As the two of us made our way to the
bus stop, I couldn't help but notice all the little details. I was
an influence witch, after all. If you wanted to truly attune to
your circumstances, and become truly powerful over them, you had to
be aware of everything about them. From the overpowering sense they
gave you, to the tiniest, exquisite detail. Today wasn't only
windy, but blown along in the gale was the scent of rain in the
mountains. If you looked closely, you could see there weren't just
leaves and twigs blocking up the storm drains, but paper cups and
odd little plastic toys. And the touch of the wind promised a
freezing and frantic night.

Not too wild though, I
hoped.

Chapter 10

By the time we made it to Vinnie’s,
the rain had started. It came in fits and bursts, some drops large
and fat, others scant and light.

When he walked through Vinnie's front
door, the man popped his head up from his desk like a meerkat. Then
a grin slow and steady spread across his lips. If he could have
unhinged his jaw, it would probably have spread all the way around
his head.

“Ladies,” he said as he brought his arms
up wide and expressively. “You've come to the right
place.”

Classic Vinnie. No
“hello,” no “how
are you,” no “I haven't seen you for years,” just straight into
business.

“You need a car, and boy have I got the
car for you,” he walked up to me winking my way.

I wasn't about to ask how he knew that
it was me that needed the vehicle; he was my magical cousin, even
if he didn't share the family trade.

“Vincent,” my grandmother's voice bottomed
out, and she sounded exactly like a boom of lightning.

Vincent, the smile freezing in
place, turned, one of his eyebrows twitching
. “Mary... you seem... less
demented than usual.”

She stopped thumbing her pearls
and bowed slightly
. “I am afraid circumstances dictate a far more
heavy-handed approach right now.”

He shrugged his
shoulders
.
“How can I help you?”

“Do you expect me to tell you? Vincent
Sinclair, use your nous.”

Licking his lips, Vincent
brought up his hands, plucked the crumpled handkerchief out of his
pocket, and patted his brow
. “You always were a hard woman, Mary. But very
well. I accept the challenge.” He turned to me, looked me up and
down slowly, grated his teeth together, then clicked his fingers.
“You want to buy a car.”

I snorted with
laughter
.
“We've already ascertained that, Vinnie. You aren’t going to get
any points for stating the obvious.”

He shrugged, opening his hands
wide
. “Not
having a good morning, Esme? You're a bit more snide than usual.
Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“She is lucky to still have one, the way
her life is currently going. Now, Vinnie, stop wasting my time. I
want you to find the best car you have. The most powerful car you
have. A car fitting for my granddaughter.”

Vinnie recoiled slightly, glancing
over at Mary, then back at me, then out at his car yard beyond the
large glass window before us.

“Are you sure you want the most powerful
car I have?”

“Vincent Sinclair, get on with it. We have
a lot to do today,” my grandmother chided.

Vincent latched hold of his
bowtie, wiggled it around as he straightened it, clapped his hands
together, and then shrugged towards his car yard
.” Right.”

With that we followed him
outside.

I glanced up at the grey, swirling
mass of cloud above us, and as I did, a few dribbles of rain dashed
against my cheeks. I reached up my cold fingers to wipe them
off.

The wind was so wild that the clouds
seemed to churn. Fast and ferocious, as I stared up at them, my
brain began to pick out shapes among the chaos.

Faces, and not particularly nice
ones.

Magic? Or just my addled brain finding
danger when none was present?

I would have to find out.

“Okay, well this is my most powerful car,”
Vinnie took us over to a giant, monstrous four-wheel drive. It had
huge tires, a raging bull bar, and doors that were almost a meter
off the ground.

I couldn't say anything; my bottom lip
just tugged open of its own accord.

My previous car had been a small
hatchback. Manageable, nice, and good with petrol.

It had not been a monster
truck.

My grandmother placed a hand on
the bull bar, squinted through the windscreen, then she walked
around the vehicle, kicked the
tires, crossed her arms, and looked
impressed. “It certainly seems powerful.”

“It is,” Vinnie clapped his hands
together. “You could take on a train with this thing.”

A train? Why on earth would you want
to take on a train with a car? I just wanted to get from one place
to another, just a simple drive through the city, economical, easy,
and safe. That didn't equate to a monster truck.

Pressing my hand into my neck, I
arched my shoulders.

“We'll take it.” My grandmother nodded
definitively at Vinnie who burst into an immediate, almost
infectious grin.

I spluttered
. “No we won’t. This is
ridiculous. I'm not driving a monster truck.”

“It is the most powerful vehicle he has.
We must surround you with the most powerful things we can find.
Until the threat to this family has subsided, you will follow my
lead,” my grandmother added at the end in a low, serious
tone.

Though I had snapped my mouth
open ready to protest, I couldn't challenge her, not when she was
looking like that. Instead I looked pointedly at the monster truck,
then down at the enormous wheels
. “Where would I ever park it? How would I
change lanes? I mean, it's going to cost a fortune in
petrol.”

“And if any malignant wizards or witches
decide now is a good time to attack you, you can speed away into
the forest or force them off the road,” she said primly.

I twitched at that. I honestly did.
Drive off into the forest, force them off the road? This wasn't a
movie. This was my life. I wasn't about to get into frantic,
ridiculous car chases with evil magical creatures. It didn't work
like that. I knew the rules of this game. They wouldn't kidnap me,
chuck a brick through my window, or bundle me into their car. They
would undermine my life with spells, enchantments, and hexes. And
then, when I was at my weakest, they would strike.

I looked back at the monster truck.
Could I really drive that? Did I really want to?

“Considering your family, I will cut you a
deal. Interest free for...” Vinnie trailed off as he started to
count on his fingers. “Three weeks.” He gave something you could
confuse with a compassionate smile.

Three weeks? How generous.

My grandmother leaned in,
settled her hand on the enormous bull bar, even though it was about
up near her neck, and she bared her teeth
. “I have a different deal. It's
called free. I am your grandmother, Vincent Sinclair, I am the
current head of this family. One of our own is in danger, we act to
protect each other.”

Vinnie looked as if he wanted
to protest, hell, Vinnie looked as if he wanted to call the police,
but quickly his expression softened
. “I'm a businessman, Mary, you can't
expect me not to make profit,” he tried.

Granny raised her hand. The
knuckles were stiff and white
. “Vincent, do you remember when you had all that
trouble with the law last year? Do you remember how Uncle Fred came
to your aid? And you remember the year before that when you got
into a spot of trouble with the Russians? Do you remember how Aunty
Frida sorted that out for you? Do you remember the times you've
been helped, Vincent?”