All Spell is Breaking Loose: Lexi Balefire: Matchmaking Witch (Fate Weaver Book 2)

by Welling, ReGina

  "Holy sh--" I shouted, just as Salem exclaimed, "Tuna biscuits!"

  "Did it work?"

  "It definitely worked. That's exactly what it's supposed to look like. It's perfect. And on your first try! I thought you'd surely find some way to screw it up."

  "Salem!"

  "Er, I mean, well, you know, it's not like you have the best track record."

  I stuck my tongue out in his direction and made a mental note to buy the chicken flavored kibble I knew he hated next time I went shopping. "So can we move on to something else? This is easy."

  Salem nodded, refusing to take my bait. "Let's try something a little different. We're going to move on from the Elemental school of witchcraft, and into the Arcane branch. A very simplified definition would be that Arcane magic has to do with dark energy. No, not evil energy per se, but dark meaning mysterious and unquantifiable, even after thousands of years of research and study across the field. Eventually, you'll learn how get results without using totems to focus your power. Mastering the arcane takes some witches years of training, and even then there are caveats."

  "Wonderful. So where do we start?"

  "Summoning. You're going to call forth a cuddly woodland creature of your own choosing. I only hope that you avoid squirrels and birds." At least he had the presence of mind to look ashamed of himself for needing to ask.

  I suppressed a grin.

  "Sure thing, boss. How about a nice chipmunk or opossum."

  "Not exactly what I had in mind. Could you make it a bunny? They're not so bad."

  I agreed and began prepping the spell. When all the ingredients were laid out, I lit a couple of candles and followed Salem's instructions.

  "Oryctolagus cuniculus sylvilagus floridanus leporidae pronolagus paprolagus." I chanted, over and over. Somewhere around the third time through, I felt my focus begin to waver and through closed lids sensed the presence of another being in the room. When I opened my eyes, it wasn't to see a fluffy little bunny hopping across the center of the pentacle, but a giant animal of indeterminate breed--part leopard and yet somehow wolf-like, and entirely pissed off at being dragged away from whatever it had been doing when I so rudely interrupted it. A scrap of bloody flesh fell from its mouth, and when it turned its fangs in my direction, I could swear it was smiling.

  But that wasn't even the concerning part; what turned my arms to gooseflesh and sucked all of the air from my lungs was the unmistakable scent of magic roiling off the thing. It let loose a growl so terrifying I would probably need to shower twice and change my underwear, provided it didn't eat me alive before I got the chance.

  "Terra!" I screeched, slamming my eyes shut and raising my arms in front of my face as if blocking a predator twice my own weight would actually do me any good. It concerned me that I didn't even try to put up a magical shield, or use my powers in any way; those reflexes had yet to set in deep enough to replace the regular human ones I'd been using all my life, and even though it was probably completely normal, I felt ashamed.

  Thankfully, I wasn't exaggerating when I said that Terra could hear my call and come to my aid inside a shallow breath, and she dispatched the beast with little more than a flick of her finger while keeping her eyes trained on my terrified expression.

  "What the hell are you thinking, summoning a Eaflock to this house? How did you even do that? That thing is the Fae equivalent to a hellhound, and he could have taken your head off and dragged you into the Unseelie dimension. Salem, have you lost your ever-loving mind?"

  Soleil, Evian, and Vaeta, who had appeared within a tenth of a second of Terra's arrival, were huddled together near the fireplace exit, glaring at Salem with fury in their eyes.

  "Just for the record," Terra continued to rant, "I'm the only one of us who can do that, so you're damned lucky I'm the one who hears your calls. These three would have been about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle, and you'd be dead right now. Off to bed, both of you. And tomorrow, you're going to clean up this mess and buff out those claw marks, Mister." I had a feeling Salem wouldn't be sampling any of the godmother's party treats tomorrow.

  "Terra, I was trying to summon..." I began, my voice reaching a pitch it hadn't touched since I was a teenager.

  "It was supposed to be a bunny!" Salem shouted, "she must have gotten some of the wording wrong, and she's still using a hand grenade in place of a hammer when it comes to magic. I should have known better. I'm sorry."

  "I don't want to hear it right now." Terra insisted, but I could feel her softening already. "Out."

  Chapter Eleven

  "Salem, have you found out anything about..." Have you ever seen a cat make one of those gravity-defying leaps when it hears a sharp sound? Well, picture that same reflex on a man, and you'll know why I tried not to snort out a laugh.

  Salem's body landed back on the bed, his eyes shot wide and then made exaggerated sideways motions accompanied by the merest nod to my right.

  To my credit, I didn't jump or drop my coffee when my mother spoke into the sudden silence.

  "Hello again, Lexi. We need to talk." Okay, so my mouth dropped open a little.

  My mother was in my bedroom. A million wishes had just come true, every one of them turning to ashes in my mouth. One hip cocked, she stood in the center of the space, the pink light of impending sunset filtering through the sheer curtain created an angelic halo effect around her. This was no angel, of that I was sure. Dark hair, just like mine, fell softly past shoulders that carried no burden of wings.

  My mother was in my bedroom. And now Salem knew this wasn't the first time we'd met. Great.

  "How did you get in here?" As far as I knew, the place was warded against any intrusion. She should have been covered with festering pustules or caught in a quicksand trap or something worse--not standing here all cool confidence and without a mark on her.

  "Please," Sylvana snorted at the half question, half accusation. "There are four secret ways in and out of this house that your precious faeries don't even know about." The smile on her face didn't match the guarded look in her eyes. What a change from our last encounter when she had practically begged me to spend time with her, and now she looked like she'd rather be anywhere but here. Well, two could play that game, and I was mad at her anyway. "Wait, make that five."

  Information I could have used during my unfortunate infatuation for Buddy Crenshaw during senior year. His idea of living wild had not included camping out under the stars and had I been able to sneak out and join him, I too might have racked up a police record before graduation. Hecate knows I wanted to run with the bad boys. They just didn't want to run with me. It was probably for the best, though.

  Explaining Buddy's disappearance would have been tricky. Most parents aren't ready to accept that their darling delinquent would be spending the rest of his formative years as a pink-eyed toad with yellow skin and purple warts. Terra likes pretty things.

  Thinking of her triggered a wisp of imagination featuring Terra and Sylvana squaring off against each other with a sports announcer giving color commentary until I shook the visual out of my head. "How many times..."

  "Never. Not until today. Not without me knowing about it, and I would have found a way to warn you even before you got your magic." Salem leaped to Sylvana's defense and earned himself a dirty look for his troubles. Actually, a pair of them. Identical but for the shadow of a line or two betraying my mother's additional years.

  "Regardless of what you might think of me, it was never my intention to leave you. That's something you can blame on your grandmother." Bitter words. "I'd like to tell you the whole story if you're ready to hear it."

  Was I? Was there anything she could say to banish the hurt gnawing at my bones? Sylvana's version of the story might be worse than the one I'd built up in my imagination. Some part of me--the part that would lead the way with a banner and parade should I ever decide to give in to my baser nature and turn wicked--felt a burst of satisfaction when she saw I wasn't going to bend that eas
ily. I wanted her to grovel, expected her to beg for my forgiveness. Neither of those things was happening.

  Crestfallen, Sylvana said, "Don't you want to hear what I have to say? Maybe I misjudged the situation; I thought you'd be happy to see me."

  Well, so had I right up until it happened. Now that we were face to face again, I couldn't get past being angry. What kind of mother dumps her kid and runs? What had she done to deserve a hero's welcome?

  Other than helping me with my awakening, anyway.

  Trust never comes easy to those who have been abandoned, and I was no exception to the rule. So what if she had helped me that one time; it wasn't enough to make up for years of neglect. There's no rhyme or reason to the way I yearned for her and burned to reject my mother at the same time.

  "Why now?" Of all the questions that needed answers, this was the one that bubbled up inside me.

  "It's complicated." Her eyes slid away from mine then back, the expression in them pleading. "I'm here because I'm in trouble and I need your help."

  Great, my mother finally shows up and instead of I'm sorry, Lexi, or I've missed you, all I get is a chance to do her a favor. Whoop-de-do, it's just like Christmas. The sound of my heart and mind slamming shut against her was nearly audible.

  Every tick of my bedside clock sounded louder than the last as silence stretched out between us and grew until I wanted to scream it away. Questions crowded against the back of my lips, but I would not let them pass and make it easy on her. If she was in trouble, she could just...oh, who was I kidding?

  "What kind of help do you need? And how much trouble are you in?" The stand-off suddenly felt foolish, so I plunked down in the edge of the bed and indicated Sylvana should make herself comfortable in my desk chair. She declined to sit immediately and paced back and forth between the bathroom door and my closet for a minute or two. A family trait, apparently, that I also possessed. At least now I knew which parent it originated with.

  "Those..." words failed Sylvana, "...jerks from Olympus sent a Fiach after me because they think I took the Bow of Destiny. I don't have it, Lexi. I swear to you." Earnest words, an expression to match. It felt like the truth.

  "A Fiach?"

  Sylvana gave me a funny look. "A Fiach," she repeated more loudly, in that way that signifies the person either thinks you're an idiot, hard of hearing, or don't speak the language. In my case, it was the latter.

  "You can keep repeating it, but I'm not getting the reference."

  "Delta. She's a Fiach. A type of bounty hunter, and I'm the bounty. Stupid faeries. Didn't they teach her anything?" I caught the muttered words as I'm sure my mother intended.

  "Don't even think about disparaging my family like that. They showed up when you couldn't be bothered and maybe the sisters aren't remotely close to normal, but they were here for me. Every day. When I fell and skinned my knee, Terra wiped away my tears. When the boy I liked in fifth grade called me weird, Soleil made fireworks in the backyard to cheer me up. I took my first steps into Evian's arms. If I'm not familiar with every single being you might have pissed off in your day, then that's on you, isn't it?" Magic gathered in the dense pool at my center, its energy trickling along my arms like a wave of electricity. Salem, lapsed into his catly form, dropped the pretense of sleeping, arched his back, and puffed out his tail.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean..." Sylvana ran her hands through her hair in a frustrated gesture. "I'm handling this all wrong, and I don't blame you for being angry with me. You have every right to hate me, I just hoped..." She looked away for a second or two, "even if you didn't need me as a mother, maybe we could be friends."

  Springing off the bed, I opened the closet doors and busied myself sorting shoes from the pile on the floor back into their cubbies. Anything to avoid eye contact until I got my face under control.

  "I can't remember the last time hanging out with any of my friends ended with a lunatic launching a sword at me." I tossed the words over my shoulder.

  "There was that time with Kin when..." I spared Salem a withering glance and was just happy he'd thought to add clothes when he morphed back into human form. His company manners were getting better but still needed work. He hadn't flashed any of the godmothers in over a week. We were calling that a victory.

  Sylvana fell quiet while I wrestled with my decision. Mother is only a word; one easily defined by a biological process and function. The deeper meaning of the term cannot be parsed by logic or even by memory. This woman's loss had burned my soul to ash more times than I could count. Each time, I rose from the fine dust of her death and, phoenix-like, soared on with the knowledge that her absence was unwilling. A twist of fate had left me motherless, not a choice. That had been a bitter lie.

  Every fairytale has an inconvenient truth at the heart of it--most times it's as simple as be careful what you wish for--and I railed at fate for subjecting me to the moral of the story. I was the victim here, and yet it seemed like I was the one being asked to take the biggest step.

  Send her away, she's trouble--logic screamed in my head.

  Hold tight, she's your mother--my gut churned with the need.

  "No more deception. I need there to be truth between us. Tell me everything: why you left, where you've been, and if you're not the one who took the bow, why is Delta chasing you? I want to believe you, so I will listen. It's the best I can offer." I took a deep breath and waited for her to begin.

  Chapter Twelve

  Several tense moments passed while I pulled my head out of the closet and tried to read my mother's face for clues to what might happen next. I wanted to trust her. I wanted to hear an epic tale of danger and intrigue because anything less would not have been enough of a reason for abandoning a baby. I wanted this moment to be special and heartrending.

  Now that her chance to speak had come, Sylvana's eyes darted away from mine. Tension set lines around her mouth and lifted her shoulders. Was she going to back out now? To tell me her story or not, it was her choice, and even if it gutted me, there would be no begging.

  Without the truth between us, I would be forced to make a hard decision. Letting her go would bookend our relationship quite nicely, and I was prepared to do just that. Nothing owed, nothing changed. Just an hasta la vista, baby and I'd roll right along as if my deepest wish hadn't come true only to be snatched away again. Can we not talk about the fact that she had been the one asking to tell her story from the beginning and only when I actually wanted to hear it did she waffle? Maybe our faces weren't the only thing my mother and I had in common. Just call us the yo-yo twins.

  "I'd like a few minutes alone with my daughter." Sylvana made eye contact with Salem, then nodded toward the door. "This is a private conversation."

  "Fine," and then I threw her under the bus. Okay, not the bus, the faerie van of party planning. "Salem, please go down and tell the godmothers I've decided to take a nap. Ask Terra, and do it nicely, to put her favorite silencing charm on my room. I'd do it myself, but we both know how inept I've been at spells lately."

  Flipping off the bed in a graceful motion only a cat should be able to accomplish, Salem shot me the subtlest hint of a raised eyebrow indicating he'd gotten the message.

  The door closed behind Salem with a soft click and Sylvana turned to me. "Delta and I have history, and she's convinced I know where Bow of Destiny is hidden." I'd meant for her to talk about our briefly shared history and what she wanted from our relationship going forward, not explain her current predicament. With a sinking feeling, I listened to her skirt the issue of the past in favor of the problem she was facing now.

  "Delta's after the bow, and she won't leave either of us alone until she has it in her possession. I know what she told you, but the truth is she's ruthless, and she'll do anything to get what she wants. She has no intention of handing something so valuable over to a novitiate, regardless of your heritage. She'd spin any story to get you to lead her to what she's after. If we work together, we have a better shot of finding the bow, and onc
e you have it in your possession, taking out Delta won't be a problem. I get the Fiach off my back, and you get the bow--we both win."

  I wanted to trust her, needed to. She was my mother. The one person who was supposed to love me no matter what; who was supposed to have my best interests in mind. I'm not so naive that I think the act of giving birth is some kind of magic that makes a person into something she's not. Perhaps I'd built up a fantasy that no woman could have fulfilled.

  "I'm going to want more than just your help. I want answers to all my questions--truthful answers. If you're not ready to talk about why you left, then start by telling me exactly how you expect us to find the Bow of Destiny in the first place."

  "You want the truth? It was your grandmother who took the bow."

  "Clara?" It seemed like something a murdering witch would do, but I had no doubt there was more to the story; recognizing subtle untruths is a skill I exercise on a daily basis in my work life. People almost always try to show themselves in the most flattering light, it's basic human nature, and I would never presume to cast aspersions since I'm as guilty of it as anyone else.

  "Yes, and there are only a couple of places she'd have considered hiding it. I can take you there. We'll find the bow first, remove Delta from the equation, and then we're both in the clear. I also promise I'll answer any question you have. We can check the first place on my list tonight--right now if you want."

  Following along with her change of moods was like trying to catch the wind. It spun me around in circles until I was dizzy.

  "Define removing Delta from the equation. You're not talking about..."

  "Of course not. What do you take me for? I have no intention of ending up like my mother."

  Did that mean Delta was part witch? As far as I know, committing witchicide is the only crime that results in stoning.

  "Can I have a minute to think about it?" The brief flash of annoyance smoothed out so quickly I wasn't entirely sure I'd seen it at all.