“Have you made your decision to come?” Valentine asked.
“I have not.”
Hmm.
“May I ask why not?” Valentine pressed.
“Because I fully intend to do it, but I also fully intend not to let on that’s been my decision because everyone is being so damnably insistent about me doing it. And you can take that to mean they feel the decision has been made without me making it, and I intend to make clear that when the decision is official, it was my decision that was made.”
“I approve of this course of action,” Valentine murmured and watched Franka lift her chin.
“With respect, I don’t care if you do or don’t.”
“I approve of that too,” Valentine replied and at that she watched Franka’s lips twitch. With no ado, she then announced, “You have magic.”
Franka was not able to hide her response to that, quickly or otherwise. She stiffened visibly and her expression went guarded.
“Calm, my sister,” Valentine said softly. “It is your secret and as your sister, it’s also mine.”
Franka didn’t calm immediately. She studied Valentine warily and it took her some time before she nodded her acceptance even if Valentine sensed she didn’t fully give it.
“I have your mother’s magic, as you know,” Valentine continued.
“Pardon?” Franka asked.
“Your mother’s magic. I have it,” Valentine explained. “I could absorb it, such as it is. I don’t need it, though one can never have enough magic. However, I’ve not done that. I’m waiting on you to tell me what you wish done with it.”
It took a moment for Franka to answer but then she did.
“In honesty, as I didn’t know such could occur, I cannot say what you should do with it except that I want no part in whatever is done.”
As Valentine suspected, Franka Drakkar held magic but she did not use it or even understand it.
“You have options, chérie,” she began, deciding to ignore the last of what Franka said. “I could give it to you, augment the power you have. I sense your power is significant especially as you inherited it from your mother and haven’t used it, so it grows inside you in great stores. Your mother’s was used often, randomly and for ill. It wasn’t meager but it is no match to yours.”
This was not welcome news, clearly causing Franka to wonder if she knew how to use her power if she could have done so to save herself, her brother and her lover from harm.
Franka shared all of this with Valentine by looking to the fire.
“That wouldn’t have helped,” Valentine told her sympathetically. “It’s an assumption but I’ve seen others of little experience make such attempts with much less at stake. They backfired and made matters far worse. So do not concern yourself with that, sister. There was nothing you could have done, not for you, your brother, but most particularly, for your lost lover.”
Franka lifted her chin but said nothing.
Therefore Valentine carried on, “You should have been trained. It should have been something beautiful, something precious, time spent together with your mother that you didn’t look on fondly, you looked on lovingly, remembering the beauty she shared with you as she taught you to harness and wield your power. Much like every moment I shared with my mother and my grandmother when they guided me in how to wield mine.”
Franka turned back to her.
“This, she did not do.”
“I know,” Valentine replied. “But it would be my honor to do so, sister.”
A flash of interest quickly buried before she returned, “I want nothing of hers.”
“It’s the only good she’s given you,” Valentine retorted. “And no woman should eschew any power she holds rightly, or that she’s earned, or even that she’s wrested from a defeated foe. Your mother was a waste to this world. But your magic should not be wasted, and magic is sacred, so what’s left of hers shouldn’t either.”
“What are the other options for her magic?” Franka asked.
Although she admired the trait, at this moment Valentine found Franka’s stubbornness frustrating.
“I could expel it into the earth,” Valentine answered. “Close to an adela tree, which would assist all of them across Lunwyn in growing.”
“As the adela were nearly made extinct during the war, they hold great beauty and provide the same when their power is used, and they take decades to grow, I think that’s the better option, don’t you?”
“Although it would hasten growth, it would not shave decades off, but only perhaps a few months,” Valentine replied.
“A few months are just that and that’s something.”
Valentine was not pleased with how this conversation was going.
It was time to take another course with the willful witch.
With that in mind, abruptly, she declared, “In my world, when you are with me there, I not only wish to train you to use your magic, but I wish for you to join me as I perform the services I perform for my clients in order to eventually take on your own.” She leaned closer to her witch-sister. “I can assure you, the intrigues in which I’m enlisted are often quite delicious.”
Finally, she’d caught Franka’s attention.
“Indeed?” she asked.
“Indeed,” Valentine said as she sat back. “In fact, I have some meddling I intend to do. And it would assist me greatly if I had a partner.”
Franka made no reply, she simply continued studying Valentine.
“I would like you in my world. I think it would suit you. I think you’d blossom there. And I hope you’ll also blossom under my tutelage,” Valentine coaxed.
“That decision has been made, as I’ve shared,” Franka reminded her. “I’ll be journeying to your world.”
“It has, I’m talking about your magic and you absorbing your mother’s.”
Franka started to shake her head but Valentine spoke again.
“You are aware there are twins of nearly everyone in both worlds.”
“Yes,” Franka affirmed.
“And Dax Lahn’s twin lives in New Orleans.”
Valentine was satisfied to see a slight widening of Franka’s eyes and a definite look of heightened attentiveness in them.
“As does this world’s Circe, of course,” Valentine carried on.
“My,” Franka whispered, her sister-witch far from dim, Valentine had to explain no further.
Instead, she shared, “I’ve paid some attention to him. I’ve decided they’ll suit.”
It took a moment but after that moment Franka’s lips curled in a way Valentine found very familiar for she’d felt that same curve on her own lips many a time.
“My,” she repeated.
“It may take some time, it’s important for you to be comfortable in your magic, but do you fancy some meddling?” Valentine invited.
Franka took another moment and this one was longer.
Valentine waited.
It was worth the wait when she received her answer.
“Absolutely.”
* * * * *
Franka
“I would like for you to put that down and come here,” I said to the child.
My nephew looked up at me but did not do as I said.
Instead, he put what he was holding right in his mouth.
“I’ll repeat,” I carried on speaking to the child, “Please put that down and come here.”
Timofei just stared at me.
Then he let out a giggle that made the precarious purchase of steadiness he had on his own two feet disappear. He wobbled, fell, and the bangle Josette had given him to attract his attention from his parents leaving him with me (this being right before Josette left him completely alone with me) flew from his hand only to roll on its thin side under a couch.
I sighed.
Timofei adjusted himself so he was on his nappy-covered bottom, looked where the bangle had disappeared, looked to me, his face started to crumple, and I knew what was coming.
> Thus I stood swiftly and stated commandingly, “Do not even consider weeping.”
He blinked up at me.
I bent with only a small pang of pain, experiencing another one as I picked up the toddler who was barely a year and a half old but who was also a very big boy (he would grow straight and tall, like his father, I was certain) and planted him so one of his legs was hitched on my hip, the rest of him was wrapped around my belly.
“There will be many times to weep in life, child,” I declared as if I was a tutor giving a lesson to her pupil, one that was much older than the one who was staring up at me with wide eyes that looked like mine, and wet, rosy lips that were more endearing than I cared to admit. “I can assure you, a lost bangle is not one of those times.”
He slapped my chest and I decided to take that as his agreement to my declaration.
“Quite right,” I stated, and moved with him, instinctively bouncing him on my hip.
I took him to the mantel, pointed at a rather unattractive, but I knew nearly priceless, objet d’art resting there and instructed, “If this were to break, no weeping.”
For some reason he was smiling up at me now so I bounced him higher and that produced another giggle.
Odd.
Oh well.
I pointed to his chest and pressed in, saying in a softer voice, “Now, if this were to break, you should weep. And don’t let anyone tell you differently. I don’t care if you’re male. A broken heart deserves tears. In truth, I do believe it’s the only way to mend it.”
“Think you’re right, sugarlips.”
I jumped at Noc’s teasing voice coming to me and whirled with my nephew to face the door.
His voice had been teasing.
As he regarded me across the room by the fire holding my nephew, his face did not say playful.
It said something quite different and I blocked it before I could come to an understanding of just what it said.
“Can I assist you with something?” I queried.
“You comin’ home with me?” he returned my query with his own.
Dear goddess, I wish he’d cease referring to it like that.
Home.
With him.
“I’ve not decided yet.”
“Bull,” he decreed.
I looked down to Timofei, “It’s quite coarse and rude to speak this way, nephew. I know you’re young but it’s never too early to bear that in mind.”
He looked up at me and bounced himself on my hip. I took my cue and gave him a hearty spring and he giggled again.
I found that quite pleasant.
“Babe,” Noc called.
I turned to him and arched my brows.
“I’m also here to tell you they’re ready to take off for Esmerelda’s.”
“Ah,” I looked down to Timofei. “It’s time for chocolate.”
He knew few words but I learned he knew that one for he let out an excited shriek, bounded in my arms repeatedly, banged my chest with his fist, and once done shrieking, screeched, “Choc choc!”
“Come on, sweetheart, get your cloak. You’re riding in my sleigh with me,” Noc said.
I looked to him as I moved to him. “Will you be vexing me with your attempts to encourage me to go to your world in said sleigh?”
“Probably.”
“Then I shall ride with my brother,” I told him as my nephew and I arrived at him in the doorway, a position he didn’t move from when we did.
“His sleigh is full, baby.”
“Tosh, he can fit me.” I looked again to Timofei. “Can’t he, nephew?”
“Choc choc!” was his answer.
I turned again to Noc. “That means yes.”
“It so doesn’t,” Noc replied, his lips quirking.
“It absolutely does,” I returned.
Noc gave up the fight, grinned, shook his head and then plucked my nephew right out of my arms with a practiced ease I found both astounding and bizarrely pleasing. In the same manner he planted Timofei on his hip, reached to grab my hand, his fingers tight around mine, and thus he dragged me into the hall carrying my nephew and speaking.
“Dig you bein’ cute, babe, always. But everyone’s talking about this liquid chocolate so I wanna get some in me. To do that you need your cloak, I need my coat and this little one needs to get bundled up. So let’s get a move on, yeah?”
I had no choice of whether or not to agree to get a move on.
Noc moved me by keeping hold of my hand and pulling me with him.
Again with no choice, as Josette was at the grand entryway awaiting me with my cloak, I accepted it and my gloves and hat.
Noc shrugged on his other-world coat, a nice, dark-blue, double-breasted wool that Finnie shared later was a, “Navy pea coat…hot,” (her words exactly).
Timofei was bundled by his nanny.
And away we went.
With me in Noc’s sleigh.
He did not attempt to press me to go to his world during our trip. Nor during our time at Esmerelda’s. Nor much later, when he was my dinner partner at dinner (something Queen Aurora seemed intent on doing, only Kristian had taken his place but once in all the dinners I’d shared with them).
And yet he did.
And he did it simply by being Noc.
* * * * *
Valentine
Valentine studied Lavinia with unconcealed distaste.
After her friend swallowed a bite of her sidewalk-hot dog-vendor hot dog while standing on a street in New Orleans, Valentine shared, “I can introduce you to much more sumptuous delicacies, my friend.”
Lavinia took another bite of the chili, onion and mustard slathered hot dog and said through a full mouth that had Valentine’s lip curling, “But this is delicious.”
She was quite wrong.
Valentine didn’t share this.
She looked across the street.
It was nearly time.
“I’ve decided you’ll come to my world more often and the next time you come, I’ll take you to Arnaud’s.”
“Do they have these at Arnaud’s?” Lavinia asked and Valentine turned again to see her lifting the remaining quarter of her hot dog.
“No,” Valentine drawled disgustedly.
Lavinia grinned, took another bite, glanced away from Valentine and promptly choked on her hot dog.
Valentine’s attention went to where her friend’s eyes were aimed and she saw Dax Lahn walking out of the handsome building wearing his exceptionally well-tailored suit.
She would not have thought a man such as him would wear a suit well, but she was wrong.
“You brought the Dax here?” Lavinia asked incredulously.
“No, chérie, I did not,” Valentine answered.
There was a moment’s silence before Lavinia queried, “That’s…that’s…this world’s Dax?”
“It is, indeed.”
Through this, her friend didn’t tear her gaze from Dax Lahn as he walked to the waiting sleek, gleaming-black Mercedes parked at the curb.
“He’s an attorney, known as ‘the Savage,’” Valentine informed her fellow witch. “He’s quite feared in the courtroom, it’s said. Razor-sharp. Shrewd. Sly. A cunning strategist. And ruthless.”
The man under discussion got in the car while Valentine spoke, and both women watched as the vehicle smoothly moved away from the curb.
They continued to watch until it disappeared from sight.
Only then did Valentine feel Lavinia’s eyes on her and she turned her attention back to her friend.
“He’s wealthy, very,” she stated. “Unmarried, obviously. And he gives not only generously of money but also of the expertise of his firm, of which he’s the founding and managing partner, to a local domestic violence shelter. This for reasons I can’t fathom, outside the fact he’s simply a good man, for his mother and father had a long, loving relationship that only ended when his father died in a tragic car accident.”
“Valentine—” Lavinia started.
“And he moves in circles that are such it’s unlikely he’ll run into the office manager of a towing company.”
Light had already dawned in Lavinia’s eyes, but with that she moved closer to Valentine.
“With our Circe, I’m not sure this is wise,” she declared.
“You would be wrong,” Valentine sniffed.
“My dear—”
“It is, as it can’t have escaped you, the natural order of things,” Valentine reminded her.
Lavinia’s focus wandered to the street where they last saw Dax Lahn’s car.
She then whispered, “The Savage.”
“Perfection,” Valentine decreed.
Lavinia’s attention cut back to her. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
Valentine tried not to be offended.
And failed.
“I know precisely what I’m doing,” she said with a slight snap.
“I think you believe that down to our emerald soul, I just hope you’re right.”
“I’m absolutely right.”
Lavinia held her gaze and shook her head.
Really, her friend’s misgivings were quite insulting.
“It’s late in Lunwyn and I have things to see to there,” Valentine announced. “Are you finished with that… fare?” She tipped her head to the remains of Lavinia’s repulsive hot dog.
To that, Lavinia shoved the last bite in her mouth and followed that by chewing at the same time smiling.
Valentine controlled her lip curling in derision.
She then moved them both to an alley close by that was deserted and there were no eyes on them.
And with verdant green smoke mixing with jade, the two witches disappeared.
Chapter Ten
Always but Always
Franka
“Goodness, almost a bull’s-eye.”
I jumped at Cora’s words and looked to her to see I was so engrossed in what I was watching out the window, I hadn’t even sensed her coming close.
And what I was watching out the window was Finnie and Frey, with some of Frey’s men and Lahn looking on, teaching Noc how to go about using a bow and arrow.
I’d been watching for some time, and I’d noticed in this time he not only took very little of it to feel comfortable with the weapon but to start shifting back further and further from the target with his aim, each time quickly coming more and more true.
Midnight Soul Page 21