Full Circle

by Patti Larsen

  “I didn't think you'd catch him,” I said, tone bitter. I couldn't help it. “Now we know Batsheva's not only watching me openly, but covertly.”

  “Which means she most likely knows about Sebastian.” Sunny's worry was almost tangible.

  “Let’s go.” I found the veil, held my hand out to her. “Coming with me?”

  The nervous look on her face almost made me smile. But she gripped my hand without hesitation. “Of course.”

  The ride was as swift and smooth as ever and as we emerged at the mansion front, Sunny let out a soft breath of air.

  “Brilliant,” she said. “Thank you.”

  I followed her inside, felt Sebastian’s power building the moment we passed the threshold.

  “I SUMMON THE COUNCIL OF WITCHES,” he roared, “TO FACE THE LEADER OF THE BLOOD CLAN DEWINTER.”

  I immediately voted him king of grand entrances.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Five

  I was so excited I found myself vibrating with a mix of thrill and fear as Sebastian handed Uncle Frank over to Anastasia and strode through the entry of the house on his way to the Council chamber. It was quite late, or early depending on your undead status, and I knew we were running out of night time. Not that it seemed to stop Sebastian or even slow him down.

  And I thought Sunny was scary when she was pissed. He’d retained enough of his angel- of-death power his deadly allure still remained. Doors opened, sleepy witches looking out only to be snared by his energy and drawn forward. Even the Enforcers who rushed out to stop him appeared suddenly awestruck the moment they entered his sphere of influence. They followed him in a line, like the fabled rats behind the Pied Piper, pulled by the call of his vampire magic. I felt it too, though I was no longer compelled to obey it and wondered about the refreshed bite inside me the virus had awakened.

  Later. So much later. I had Mom to save.

  The secretary met us at the first chamber door, dressed in a silly robe and slippers, his glasses askew, thinning hair standing on end and waving around him like an unhappy spider web.

  Before he could open his mouth to protest, Sebastian brushed him aside, the contact causing the little man to swoon. He too followed then, joining the growing group of witches who staggered in to the Council chamber, gathering around the tall, glowing form of the vampire leader as he mounted the raised platform. The other doorway slammed open, Council members rushing outward with total shock on their faces, Batsheva and Dominic the last to enter as Sebastian took the Council leader’s seat and crossed his legs—blushing!—fingers steepled before him.

  “And what exactly,” he said in a voice that chilled the air and making me shudder, “are you doing in my house?”

  No one said a word. I’d never heard such quiet. I think the bulging of Batsheva’s eyes was the most satisfying of all. So her spy hadn’t made it back in time to warn her.

  What a pity.

  “You’re sitting in my chair.” She recovered quickly, voice sharp.

  “No,” he said. “You’re standing on my property. And I want you off of it.” He stood then, looked around like he literally owned the place, regal and god-like despite his tattered clothing.

  He really had to find something new to wear.

  His energy rippled outward, claiming the mansion for his own. This was it. We’d done it. Batsheva didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  Until Sebastian’s white magic encountered the Council energy in the seals of the room. And bounced off as if unable to break through.

  “You own this house, that much is true,” Batsheva said, confidence renewed as Sebastian’s power recoiled and returned to him, pooling at his feet. “But I own this room. And unless you can claim it, this trial will continue and we will remain.”

  Damn her. I felt panic rise inside me, reached for Sebastian.

  Can I help? I didn’t know how, but I could tell behind the stony façade of his expression he was thinking madly.

  No. His mental voice was sad. I’m sorry, Syd. She’s somehow linked herself to this room. It’s as she said. I can remove the witches from the rest of the mansion, but she has claim to this one place. And I have no idea how she’s done it.

  Lovely. Just freaking lovely.

  “Very well then,” Sebastian said. “I’m sure all of your gathered witches will enjoy crowding into this one room for the duration of the trial.” He didn’t back down a bit, even smiled slightly. “I can be gracious and offer to have sleeping bags brought in here if you’d like.”

  Ha. Good for him. No one looked very happy at the prospect.

  “Lord DeWinter.” Violet stepped forward, her power offered to him on her glowing hands. He accepted her show of friendship though I saw her shudder when he touched her and knew she probably regretted her offer. “This trial is of utmost importance to the High Council. The fate of one of our leaders is at stake.”

  “And how is that my problem, dear lady?” While he gently bent and kissed the back of her hand, his mind touched mine again. How would you like me to proceed?

  Good question. Part of me would have loved to see them all perched, miserable and afraid, inside the room waiting for the trial to resume.

  “We beg your hospitality for the duration,” Violet said. Weird having two conversations at once. I really should have been used to it by now. “And your forgiveness for this terrible mess.”

  Oh, let them stay, Gram sighed to him through me. Maybe it will earn us brownie points. We’ve obviously lost this round. She didn’t sound very happy about it.

  As you wish.

  Sebastian straightened and smiled his devastatingly handsome smile, making the room full of mostly female witches sigh over him. I had to avert my eyes from some embarrassing bare places showing through his rags as he spoke.

  “Very well,” he said. “But only because you ask so kindly.” He kissed Violet’s hand again, making her titter and blush herself, still clutching her pink robe to her chest though I caught her eyes wandering over his delicious body.

  Who knew Violet was a dirty old lady?

  That made Gram cackle.

  “Of course,” Sebastian said in his smooth voice, a low thrum of chastisement in his tone, “had we simply been approached as equals, asked for our assistance, I can assure you such aid would have been granted without question. It has always been the aim of the vampire nation to co-exist in peace with our fellow magical species.” His eyes settled on Batsheva again, the timbre of his voice shifting to that of a father lecturing his errant child. “This entire situation could have been avoided. Instead, in a stroke of arrogance, you have led your people to within moments of war. I expect you to consider your actions from this moment forward, High Council Leader. I will be observing with absolute attention as you continue these proceedings in my home.”

  I wanted to laugh out loud at the expression on Batsheva’s face. So angry, so frustrated. But she didn’t talk back. Neither did she show any indication she gave a crap. But the rest of us got his message loud and clear.

  Bad Batsheva. Go to your room.

  Sebastian retreated, Sunny at his side, his power going with him.

  I’ll do what I can, witch girl, he sent as he left. I only wish I could have ended this for you here and now.

  Thank you, I sent back as I turned and left myself, frustrated we’d come so close. I’m just happy you’re okay.

  His power embraced me before it vanished.

  How did she do it? Gram’s voice was soft in my head, as if she’d forgotten we were still connected. I have to find out. This shouldn’t be possible.

  Is there anything I can do? I reached for her, but she pulled away.

  Go home. Sleep. I need you sharp tomorrow.

  Sleep. Yup, that sounded good.

  I exited the mansion into the cool early morning air, feeling the sun coming and knowing the vampires were now most likely safe in their sleeping places. I fretted over the Enforcers who watched them, but there wasn’t much I could do abou
t it at the moment.

  When Sebastian’s power surged against me, sealing the house, I suddenly realized I didn’t have to worry.

  He’d keep them safe. And the elements preserve whoever tried to disturb them again.

  Someone moved in my peripheral vision and I turned my head quickly, expecting the spy in the black robe. I stood there a moment, letting my power reach out, searching for my watcher. Nothing. No one. Only the quiet night, the hum of magic and the scent of the earth. I sighed and let myself relax before calling on my demon to take us home.

  It was as simple to return as it was to leave. The veil expelled me at the corner of the family wards which I slipped past without being spotted, though I realized then it didn’t matter much. Batsheva knew I’d eluded her guards. I trudged to the back door, opening it as quietly as I could, my power reaching inside for my family.

  Quaid's mind found mine first. His soft, sad touch was enough to break my heart.

  He waited for me in the kitchen, Sassafras at his side, Charlotte silent, and Galleytrot, big head drooping in grief, leaning into Quaid's side. The dog's eyes were dark, not a flicker of red fire within, only a deep and endless sadness drawing a short, harsh cry from my throat.

  “Alison,” I croaked.

  “I found her,” he whispered.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Six

  I ignored the Enforcers. Blocked out Quaid's cold, angry words to them. Felt myself guided into the front seat of the family van. Accepted the hands belting me in. Held myself rigid and still, telling myself as long as I kept everything together things would be fine, just fine, Alison would be...

  Fine.

  But she wasn't fine. Not from the aching energy of Galleytrot's power, the subtle hum of him like a gathering rainstorm. Not from the gentle way Quaid held my hand after he climbed behind the wheel and slammed the door, closing the Enforcers and the world off from the rest of us. Not from the roughness of Sassy's tongue as he leaped into my lap and bathed my cheek in kisses before turning, balanced on my legs, looking out the window, my little sister crying softly in the back seat.

  No. This was wrong, couldn't be right, couldn't be happening.

  Was. Not.

  The drive took forever and no time at all. How did we arrive so quickly at the edge of the lake when it seemed like time didn't move? I'd been lost somewhere in my memory, hearing a girl's laughter, the way she tossed her blonde ponytail, the wink of her blue eyes. When the door opened next to me I jumped at the intrusion, almost angry someone broke the past, shattering it around me.

  Shattering my heart all over again.

  Quaid's face was calm, sad, but full of love. I let him unhook my belt, unable to make my hands work, my fingers fumbling at the clasp like it was a foreign thing. Power rippled past the van outside, two Enforcers arriving.

  I hated them suddenly, felt myself lunge from the seat, screaming at them, power building. My demon surged forward, her fire blazing even as Shaylee sent me every last scrap of what she had, my witch magic, the power of the family, forming a massive column of magic I wanted, needed to use on someone.

  Anyone.

  The Enforcers would do.

  They backed off, eyes huge. Someone yelled my name, hands on me, pulling me back. I couldn't scream anymore, my throat was too raw, my voice cracking, stumbling like my body wasn't my own. I fell forward into supporting arms, sobs escaping me, so vast and hurtful I just wanted to die.

  Syd. Quaid's voice reached me, inside me. Please, Syd. This was a mistake, bringing you here. Let me take you home.

  I pulled away from him, staggered backward. Swiped at the wet on my face, tears and mucus, as I fought to shove off the horrible pressure weighing on my chest, making it impossible to take a deep breath.

  No.

  I turned toward the water, felt Galleytrot's magic guide me, found the faint trail of tires, followed it all the way to the lake's edge. Sank to my knees, reaching, reaching with my mind, my heart, searching for her.

  Alison! ALISON!

  I found her, touched what remained of her even as my eyes finally penetrated the surface of the water, the rising sun behind me allowing enough light I could just catch the glint of red plastic from her tail lights, make out the PRTYGRL license plate.

  Everything stopped. And another piece of my soul went dark.

  “It's my fault.” The words came out before I could stop them. Not that I would have stopped them. There was no way to hide this truth. “It's all my fault she's dead.”

  I heard Charlotte's accented voice speaking to the police. Felt the power of the Enforcers draw near. Whispered apologies for my loss from one, an angry hiss from the other before their presence left me.

  Good. They needed to be gone. We all did. Before the real world came to pull Alison out of the lake.

  Quaid lifted me bodily from the ground even as I clung with my magic to the shape under the water, ran my power though flowing hair, waited inside for the hint of a heartbeat. I didn't fight him, let him belt me back in, accepted Sassafras's weight on my legs, Meira’s hand taking mine from her seat behind me.

  “I'll stay and wait,” he said. “Charlotte will take you home. Syd.” He cupped my face in his hands. “I'll be right back, I promise. But someone needs to be here.”

  I nodded. It should be him. Someone who knew her. Charlotte was driving away before I could say anything, do anything. I watched him in the side mirror, growing smaller and smaller, the big black dog at his side.

  Charlotte guided me inside the house, sat me down at the kitchen table and shooed my crying sister into a seat of her own before making me a cup of tea. Sunlight streamed in the windows, warming my bare feet. I'd lost my shoes somewhere along the way. No matter. I had lots of shoes.

  But I was all out of Alisons.

  The sobbing started almost as an afterthought, the sound of it too much for my aching head. My stomach rolled over, heaving in grief, but there was nothing to come up. Sassafras's steady power slid around me, held me gently, as he let me weep.

  The coven reacted as though they’d taken a blow, their power surging toward me as their sadness joined mine.

  Only one witch didn’t add her condolences.

  Pull yourself together. I knew that voice, hated it. The coven matters more than one mere mortal.

  My entire body jerked as the family magic chased down the connection between me and Celeste, the coven at my side, gathered as witnesses. I ignored them, focused on my fury at her arrogance. I saw her vividly as the energy slammed into her. Suddenly I was with her, my spirit in her house, watching as she rocked backward in her chair, crashing to the floor. She stared at me in utter terror for the first time and I wanted to laugh and sob and choke the life out of her.

  I drove my power into her, jabbing her physically in the gut over and over as I spoke.

  Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. Me.

  She gasped for breath, clawing at the floor, trying to pull herself out of my range, but I was limitless, her weak and pathetic magic battering at me as though it were merely a breeze. The coven stayed with me, not supporting her, on my side no matter my choice. It made what I wanted to do so much easier.

  Stop! Her mental voice clawed at me. You can't kill me!

  Why not? I let my demon out, felt her snarl and chuff and circle the horse-faced witch with deadly eagerness. This is my coven now. I can do whatever I want.

  Celeste gaped at me. Please.

  I did laugh then. It was impossible not to.

  Stay out of my way. And if you do anything, anything to harm me or the rest of this family, make one more move against me, I swear, Celeste, you will die. And it will take a long time for me to finish.

  I jerked away from her, cutting her off, sealing her magic around her.

  Sit. Stay. Bad dog.

  The family magic locked her in place, my order trapping her in her home until I let her go.

  Or she disobeyed and lost access to the family magic.

  Eithe
r way, I won.

  The coven’s magic rejoiced, a magical party going off in my head. I had no idea how many of the family hated her guts. I just wished it felt good to me. But all I could do when I ricocheted back into my body was bend in half, crushed by guilt, and gush my grief into the sunlight.

  It was so easy to retreat, to pull away, to hide inside. But they wouldn't let me. The coven remained at my side, feeling my need to escape. As I struggled to bury myself in the hurt, they drew me out again, their power and love sheltering me, giving me a place to fall apart and grieve.

  With their magic linked to mine, the pain eased far more quickly than I ever expected it could, although nothing they could do would make me feel less guilty. Over and over they sent waves of love and healing to me, refusing to leave me alone until I pulled myself together, my heart beginning the healing process.

  This was what it meant to be part of a coven, this unconditional support. I'd felt hints of it before, but never the full force. They made it very clear they didn't think me weak, shared in my deep feeling of loss and offered me the very essence of themselves as a means to keep me grounded.

  My sobbing ceased, tears dried, the dull ache in my chest all that remained of the weight of Alison's loss. I let my family go, one at a time, with hugs and magic kisses and so much gratitude I almost started crying again.

  When the last of them had gone, there was Gram. I'd not noticed her presence, so comfortable and familiar was the feeling of her mind in mine. Knowing she was there was a trigger, my tears starting up anew, but without the wrenching agony. Gram held me, rocked me with her power, voice humming a soft, wordless lullaby while I collapsed completely and let her soothe the last of my pain away.

  Thank you. I sent her a mental kiss. I'll be okay.

  This was not your fault. She'd found my guilt, pulled it out, made me examine it carefully. There was nothing you could have done.

  I wished I believed her. And perhaps she was right after all. I'd known all along I couldn't fix my friend. And she'd tried to commit suicide before, so the fact of her loss wasn't as much of a shock as the reality. But I knew if I'd just spoken to her, found a moment to hold onto her, Alison would still be alive.