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Shifting Loyalties

Page 19

by Patti Larsen


  Got married.

  Lived happily ever after.

  Yeah. Right.

  Because me and happily ever after were best friends.

  ###

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  ***

  And now for the first chapter of

  Book Eighteen in the Hayle Coven Novels

  Enforcer

  Chapter One

  I lifted the tea cup to my lips in an effort to hide the scowl threatening to turn my fake smile into a grimace of anguish.

  Huan Wong, Santos Council member, sat across from me, her round cheeks flushed as she fixed her narrow eyes on my empty left hand.

  Considering the fact it was August and my twenty-first birthday had come and gone months ago, I knew the absence of a wedding band was the main reason for this little visit from the High Council.

  That’s right. The entire High Council of North American Witches sat in my living room, sipping tea from Mom’s china while I ground my teeth together in an effort to keep from kicking the lot of them out of my house.

  It’s not like I wasn’t expecting this visit. Mom warned me long before now I’d have a price to pay for ducking my head and barreling through my birthday at Beltane, June, July and now part of August in clear rebellion of Council law. I was supposed to be married by now.

  Grumble, mumble.

  Freakout.

  “Not to put it indelicately, Sydlynn,” Willa Rhodes said, clearing her throat as her cup tinkled on her saucer, a drip of tea washing over the edge to stain the flat of the white plate. “But you have put your coven in a terrible position.” The old witch’s face scrunched in an apologetic smile.

  The Council members all nodded while Mom held her peace, calmly nibbling a little sandwich Shenka hastily prepared for our unexpected guests.

  Thank goodness for my second and her fast-on-her-feet abilities. I’d have stared stupidly at them in the kitchen if it hadn’t been for her. She took the entire thing in hand, guiding the Council into the living room, seating me graciously, while wrangling all the nitty gritty details as my temper simmered under their stares.

  Tea seemed to have diffused some of their agitation, but it was clear I wasn’t getting out of this with a little hot sugar and milk and a handful of crustless snacks.

  And yet, Mom’s relaxed state gave me more confidence than perhaps I should have had. I learned a long time ago to follow her lead. And since I had my real mother back, I could trust that lead more now than ever.

  “I’ve studied the law,” I said, grateful Shenka suggested it. Panic set in about two weeks before the big day, so powerful and all-consuming I almost ran to Demonicon to hide from the inevitability of wedding bells.

  How was I supposed to just choose? Liam and I were still a little distant, all my fault. I had, as of yet, to commit to the love he professed, freaked out to no end by the thought of making the wrong choice. And though the handsome and charming Piers Southway pressed his case on a regular basis, I didn’t love the Steam Union sorcerer. And wasn’t sure he’d be a good fit for the coven anyway.

  Excuses. Enough I talked myself into a frenzy of flight, only to be pinned down by my faithful second who shoved a copy of coven law under my quivering nose and offered a solution.

  Temporary, yes. But a solution nonetheless.

  Erica’s eyes widened as she set her cup aside, glancing sideways at Mom. “The law is clear, Syd,” she said, blonde hair, once a cute bob, now grown out to rival my mother’s long black locks. “And you’ve broken it. We’ve pushed our willingness to accept a little leeway, but with the approach of conclave…” She sat back as the others—minus Mom—murmured their agreement.

  So that’s what this was about. They’re worried about saving face? I sent the tight mental question to Mom.

  Witches are always worried about appearances, she sent with a heavy dose of amusement in her voice.

  Nice to see someone was finding my imminent doom funny.

  Just tell them what you discovered, Mom sent. I’ll do my best to back you up. But don’t hold your breath.

  Shenka refilled my cup with steady hands, her pleasant smile far more natural than she had the right to. Her dark eyes met mine, her calm as comforting as Mom’s.

  Breathe, Syd. Just breathe. “According to law,” I said, “I have until my twenty-first birthday to marry if I want to remain coven leader. Correct?”

  The assembled ladies nodded, murmuring their agreement.

  “Actually,” I said, stomach quivering with butterflies as I delivered the punchline, “that’s not quite accurate.” Shenka lifted the scroll of law from the end table and handed it to me like a magical Vanna White, all prepped and perky.

  My lovely assistant.

  I unrolled the scroll to the place she’d marked for me, speaking out loud while I read, the words rising to etch in blue fire in the air as I did.

  “‘And it shall be that all Coven Leaders wed well and true, in the year of their twenty first.”

  The words burned over my left shoulder, solid, unwavering.

  “Yes,” Huan said. “Precisely.”

  “No,” I said. “I think you missed it.” I pushed my power against the hovering script. “In the year of” popped out, bigger and brighter. “According to this, I still have nine months to find a suitable partner and wed.”

  Phew. I already felt lighter now I’d said it out loud.

  Willa frowned, head tilted as she stared at the floating words, but Huan spluttered out some tea.

  “You are purposely misconstruing the letter of the law,” she said.

  “No,” I said, tossing the scroll into her lap. “I’m following it. To the word.” Clearly no one ever contested it. I guess I was the only person who actually thought it was nuts to make me marry at such a young age.

  Witches were crazypants.

  Mom’s mind hugged mine. You made your point, she sent. Let me handle this.

  Happy to.

  “An interesting interpretation,” Mom said.

  “You would think so,” Huan bit at her, bitterness heavy in her voice.

  Mom’s blue eyes pierced the Santos Council member, her faint smile gone in a flash, face now cold and blank. “Are you accusing me of something, Council Member Santos?”

  Huan backed down immediately, head bowing. “Not at all, Council Leader,” she said, though her hands twitched around the scroll like she wanted to attack me with it.

  “I’m afraid I have to side with Sydlynn on this one,” Willa said. I felt my stomach loosen, the knot releasing. Willa and her sister, Coven Leader Violet Rhodes, were both sticklers for the law. “I have to confess, I’ve never read this particular passage myself. But it appears, as Sydlynn states, we’ve been misinterpreting it for centuries.”

  Holy. Did I just win?

  From the angry looks on the Council member’s faces, Willa’s opinion wasn’t appreciated.

  “Coven Leader Hayle has done more for this Council and all witches than any other in her few short years,” Mom said. “For that reason, we have allowed her leeway in her marriage choice and timing.” Whoa. Choice? Were they planning on saddling me with someone they picked or something?

  My demon snarled, Shaylee’s power rumbling far beneath the house even as my vampire hissed in outrage. The family magic swirled in protest, though I did my best to hide my unhappiness from the Council.

  We’d see how long someone they chose for me survived.

  Mom went on, her mind chuckling in mine. Because she clearly knew where my thoughts were.

  “For now, I agree with her assessment of the law as well, bending to the input of Council Member Rhodes.” Instant protest, though Willa nodded to Mom. My mother held up one hand as I scowled at Erica for being a traitor. So much for old family ties. “However, I understand the importance of Coven Leader Hayle’s marriag
e.” I’m sorry, sweetheart, Mom sent. But it really is important. “While I know many of you would prefer she married before conclave, it is obvious, the very event now only days away, she won’t be wed by then.”

  They scowled at me as a group. What, were they going to drop off some guy, zippity do da me down the aisle and present me, officially hitched, to the rest of the World Councils?

  So not going to happen in my lifetime.

  “The very fact one of our most powerful coven leaders,”—one of? Seriously—“blatantly flaunts the fact she thinks herself outside the law makes our position on the international stage all the more precarious.” Huan’s lips pinched into a straight line, her straight, black hair swinging as she shook her head. “And while I’m as grateful to her as anyone,” sure she was, “this kind of defiance is unconscionable.”

  “I seem to recall,” I shot back, “I was granted carte blanche by this very Council.”

  That shut them up.

  But Mom sighed, shattering my little advantage.

  “While we have granted you the freedom to act in our best interest,” she said, “your marriage isn’t included in that agreement, Coven Leader Hayle.”

  She just had to hack the floor out from under me, didn’t she?

  Huan lurched to her feet, face set in a mask of anger. “I for one am embarrassed at this state of affairs,” she said. Turned on Mom. “And I insist the Council act on the problem before it becomes a larger issue.” She returned her gaze to me. “I would hate to see you forced to step down as coven leader of the Hayle family.”

  Such. A. Liar. She was in bed far enough with the Dumonts I was sure she’d be happy to see me fall. Her old allegiance with Odette, the now deceased leader of that hated family, couldn’t have ended with the matriarch’s fall. In fact, I had no doubt the Santos coven was still heavily invested with the Dumonts, especially now that Odette’s son, Andre, was coven leader.

  “I’m certain Sydlynn will make the proper choice,” Mom said, rising to her feet with a gracious nod to Shenka and I. “And in time to fulfill the letter of our law.”

  The others rose, nodded to me, Shenka leading them out. I stayed where I was, swiping in irritation at the still floating letters hanging beside me, popping each word like a bubble while blue sparks fell to the floor.

  Damn it.

  Just damn it.

  Mom sat next to me as the sounds of Shenka saying goodbye echoed from the kitchen. Her hands reached for mine, her power hugging me.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I hate to put you in this position.”

  “You too, sweetheart,” Mom said. “This excuse of yours will only last so long. I doubt they will allow you to go the full year. It’s been a battle to make it this far.”

  “Thanks for backing me up.” I sagged against the puffy armrest of the sofa, feeling defeated. “I just have no idea what I’m going to do.”

  A fat, silver body landed in my lap as Sassafras, my demon Persian, settled himself against me, amber eyes on fire.

  “Interesting conversation,” he said. Eavesdropper. “Do you have to be so stubborn or are you enjoying yourself?”

  Smartass cat. “Okay then,” I said to him. “Who would you pick if you were me?”

  He sniffed, swiping one paw over his nose. “I’m not you,” he said.

  Argh.

  “See,” I turned to Mom as Shenka sat across from us, “this is the help I get.”

  “No one can make this decision for you,” Mom said. Paused. Bit her lower lip. “Have you talked to Quaid?”

  Oh. My. Swearword. She did so not bring him up just now.

  “No,” I snarled through my aching jaw.

  We were meant for each other. If he hadn’t chosen a life with the Enforcers, cutting off any chance we had to be together, he would be my first and only choice.

  But no. Quaid was out.

  And I couldn’t bear to pick someone else.

  I hated how weak that made me feel.

  “Stop being so picky.” I spun at the sound of Gram’s voice, staring as she scowled at me. But not my familiar Gram, not the powerful woman full of vigor and snark. This old lady with the withered skin and fluffy white hair looked petulant, reduced. Felt that way, too. And had since Ameline Benoit stole her magic a year ago.

  Magic I promised Gram I’d get back for her. Except I couldn’t, could I? Not while I needed Ameline and her dark maji self to defeat the Brotherhood.

  Guilt.

  “Gram,” I said. “You were the one who told me how important this was—”

  She swatted the air in front of her, frown so deep her brows almost touched in the center of her forehead.

  “Get on with it,” she grumped. “Hurry the hell up and pick one already.” She turned, shuffled a step. “They’re all the same anyway.”

  I watched her go, heart aching, wishing I had my Gram back. When I returned my attention to the others, they all watched me, expectant.

  And the pressure of their expectation was way too heavy for me to bear.

  “I’ll pick,” I said, standing, dumping Sassafras on Mom. “But I won’t be pushed into it.”

  I know it wasn’t fair to be angry with my mother, my cat, my best friend.

  Or myself.

  Life wasn’t fair sometimes.

 

 

 


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