You could have heard a mouse fart in the moment of shocked silence.
"I thought I told you to let me handle this," I said between clenched teeth.
Sylvana gave me a look meant to quell any further outburst, which I returned with one eerily similar. "Go away, you're not needed here." A tiny flinch betrayed her emotions.
"Well, I thought it was high time I met your benefactresses. I owe them a great deal for standing in for me during my unfortunate incarceration. Really, ladies, I can't thank you enough for all you've done for my Lexi."
Terra's eyes narrowed at the slight emphasis on the word my. She dismissed Sylvana with a sniff and rounded on me.
"There's a dragon burning down the yard," I pointed out before Terra could work up a full head of steam. "Someone should probably send it back to wherever it came from." Or maybe, given the current state of her carefully tended gardens, Terra no longer cared. An acre of lush plantings had died a black and greasy death and was now studded with bits of rotting fruits and vegetables.
Fury-filled eyes trained on mine, Terra flicked a hand over her shoulder, and the dragon went poof, though his sulfurous odor remained to torment the nose.
"Lies and betrayal. After all our time together, this is what you offer us." It was a speech worthy of a Godfather movie in both tone and content.
"I didn't..." To my consternation, I teared up. Hurting the godmothers had not been my intent. "It's been crazy since right before Beltane. Finally going through my awakening, then that business with Kin and the enchanted guitar, and Jett dropping the God bomb on me. I was overwhelmed, and when I figured out Athena was Sylvana, it was a shock, and I needed time to process before I was ready to talk about it. I'm sorry for making you think I didn't care about how you would feel, sorrier than words can say, but I won't apologize for handling this in my own way."
Terra's mouth softened just the tiniest bit, and I knew she wouldn't hold a grudge. Against me, anyway. My mother was on her own.
My mother. Saying those two words together and having them apply to a living, breathing human filled a yawning cavern inside me and opened up another that I hoped wouldn't swallow me whole. That's what would happen if it came down to trading her for the godmothers. Talk about an impossible choice. I owed my loyalty to the three Fae. Terra chose to raise me and even when the job was done, she and her sisters wanted to stay. Sylvana had been released from her underworld nexus over six months before she made contact with me. That kind of math is hard to ignore.
But family isn't about the math. Or the logic. It's about the things people do to and for each other in the name of love. The good, the bad, the sublime, the ugly.
All my life I had loved the version of my mother that I'd built in my head. She was a valiant figure of a woman who had lost her life defending herself--and possibly me--against wickedness. The version of Sylvana I pictured would have fought anything in her path to get back to me, and when she did, she wouldn't have lied about her identity.
From the moment she'd stepped between Delta and me, I'd flipped between wanting her to stay and wanting her to go away and even now, standing between her and the women who had taken her place, I still didn't know which I wanted most.
Well, other than not wanting to watch either faction commit murder.
"I don't need you to defend me, Lexi." Sylvana cautioned. "I'm just here to make sure you're safe."
"From us?" Terra's bland expression might have fooled my mother, but it wasn't fooling me. She was so close to the edge her toes were hanging over.
Pointedly, Sylvana turned to survey the plainly visible evidence of faerie fury.
"Come, Lexi. You'll stay with me for a few days, let your...roommates get control over their emotions."
A jet of water shot past me and took Sylvana in the chest, and she not only went down, but she also rolled a few feet from the force of it. When she came up, spitting, her eyes glowed with green fire, and things got ugly.
Four elements and something Salem would later describe as witchfire whizzed around the yard in a whirlwind tempest while I watched with disgust. Sylvana moved quicker than a flash, and each time one of her spells got close enough to make purchase, the faeries would swap into their Mini forms and zip out of the way. Back and forth the fury raged, and I figured half the block would be peeking through the bushes any minute if it got any further out of control.
I'm telling you, all I meant to do was diffuse the situation when I planted my feet firmly on the first paving stone of the road where good intentions lead and plotted my course straight to hell.
Heated fury turned me inside out, burned off the husk of calm that was all I had left in me. It had been a long day followed by a long night, and I'd had enough, so I let it out. All of it. The pent up pain from being abandoned, the shrieking void where my magic had lain dormant for ten long years, the fatigue of refereeing yet another elemental bout of childishness. My fists clenched so hard blood oozed from the divots formed by my fingernails, my eyes squinched up tight, and I set the magic free. Every last ounce of angst that I'd carried for so long rushed out of me like a wall of force and when it had passed, the ground was littered with an annoyed witch, four shocked faeries, and one poor familiar who had gotten caught up when he came out to see if he could help.
Essentially, I'd just thrown my first, and possibly last, magical temper tantrum and it felt good. After surveying the damage for a moment, I turned and walked away.
***
Once again, I fled for the comfort of a safe haven at Kin's house, and this time I simply walked through the door and dropped my purse on his foyer floor with a thump.
"Honey, I'm home," I called, my attempt at cliched humor not quite carrying. Instead, it came out mournful and just plain sad.
"What's happened now?" Kin's voice was slightly guarded, and it occurred to me--not for the first time--that the constant state of upheaval of my life might take a toll on anyone close to me. Specifically, anyone human.
I brushed the thought aside and allowed Kin to wrap his arms around me. "I'm sorry; I've hardly seen you in days, and now that we're together I'm a mess again." I murmured an apology into his neck.
"Don't apologize; I'm just worried about you."
"Well I followed Sylvana into the Fringe, then got into it with Jett and Serena, and finally had to deal with four angry faeries and a ticked off kitty." I left out the part where I'd blasted them all. "Basically, all hell is breaking loose." Something about my tone seemed a bit too jovial, and Kin definitely noticed.
He cut me off. "We'll come back to whatever the Fringe is in a minute. You got attacked by Jett again? Are you sure you're all right? You really don't seem like yourself right now." Shrewd assessment.
He wasn't wrong; I didn't feel like myself--I felt better. I could still feel the power thrumming in my ears; still felt energy crackling at my fingertips. And it felt good.
"I'm fine," I tried to brush past the awkward moment, "I'm a little keyed up, given all that's happened in the last few hours. The bigger issue is that Jett now knows Sylvana is alive, and he's royally ticked off." I explained the rest of my encounter and the confrontation with my godmothers wrapped protectively in Kin's arms. "So I just left them all to do whatever they're going to do and hightailed it over here. I know my mom was trying to protect me, but getting into a magic fight with four elemental faeries isn't a good idea, especially when they have an emotional investment in the topic of conversation."
"She's got some nerve, I'll give her that. What do you suppose she thought she'd accomplish?"
"I have no idea, but I doubt anything good or helpful. Just add it to the list of questions I need answers to. The one I'm concerned with at this very moment is: what do I do about keeping the peace between them?"
"Do you want my opinion?"
"Of course." I rubbed my thumb gently against the back of his arm, enjoying the warmth he always exuded. I was starting to wish I was normal and could spend my life here, have babies, and die at wh
at most would consider a ripe old age. Never gonna happen; I was a Fate Weaver, with all the responsibilities that entailed, and I'd do my level best to live up to the name.
"Well, I come from a big family. You know I have six brothers and sisters; I'm the middle child, and my parents have been married for thirty-five years. They were high school sweethearts, and I believe they are soul mates. Maybe you can tell me when you meet them." The thought of meeting Kin's family was both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. At my age, the fact that Kin was my first real boyfriend was, frankly, a bit pathetic.
"Anyway, we've had our share of ups and downs, and sometimes they do things that make me completely crazy. Did I tell you about the time I had to go pay off a bookie that my younger brother had stiffed for two thousand dollars? The only reason I made it out of there without a serious beating is because the guy recognized my voice from the radio and made me arrange to play his favorite song every day during his lunch break for a month. I know it's not in the same universe as what you're dealing with, but the bottom line is, she's family. Whether that makes me comfortable or not."
"I think I've always had this image of a perfect mother; if she had been here, none of the bad in my life would have happened. She would have protected me. But I realize that it's possible I wouldn't have any of things I love if she had stuck around. I'd probably have even bigger problems, judging by what I've experienced in the short time she's been back."
"It's something you can't change, no matter how much you wish you could. Think of the butterfly effect; or your power of threes. Everything has a flip side, comes with a price, or could have been different if only. You'll never know, and you'll drive yourself crazy considering all the outcomes. All you can do is move forward. You don't know the whole story yet; you couldn't possibly. At the very least, you deserve more of an explanation. Either to open yourself to the possibility of a relationship, or just for closure. I don't see you walking away without bothering to try. Whether it turns out good or bad, you owe it to yourself to find out."
Kin's words struck a chord; no, it wasn't like me to just give up. The double meaning of his words didn't escape me either. He could have been talking about our burgeoning relationship, and he didn't even realize it.
"Doesn't it scare you that I've got all of this baggage? Have you really thought about the repercussions of being with me?"
"Where did that come from? And yes, of course, I've thought about it. But I also know we're meant to be together, so it's all worth it."
"Jett went after you once already. Aren't you concerned that he'll try again? I can't keep you safe all the time; he's human, at least partially, and he's out there every day just waiting for his opportunity."
Kin brushed off my concerns with far too much confidence in my ability to protect him, and that worried me further. It felt like I was taking a swim in shark-infested waters; I'd been nipped, but my limbs were still intact. How much longer that would last, I couldn't be sure. I knew I wouldn't walk away from Kin unless I were left with no other choice. Was it possible our union wasn't fated to bring good into the world? What I had learned from Jett's attempts to sabotage my matches was that there was more than one path a couple could follow.
I spent the rest of the night contemplating intentions: Jett's, Sylvana's, Delta's, and even my own.
Perhaps Jett had been planting kernels of doubt in my mind on purpose, like some hippy throwing wildflower seeds onto highway medians; no actual planned outcome in mind, just hoping to incite general chaos. Maybe he was counting on me being too good a person to let someone I cared about remain in danger, thinking I'd suffer in silence as long as Kin was safe as houses. If so, he wasn't wrong, because I'd leave Kin and never look back if it came down to him leading a long and happy life or being snuffed out as a result of the insanity I called my life. Regardless, the seeds had grown roots and were firmly implanted in the soil of my consciousness. It irritated me to no end that I could see snippets of any other couples' future except my own.
What can I say; I was young and inexperienced, and it never occurred to me that my inability to foresee my own fate was more of a blessing than a curse. If Back to the Future had taught me anything, it's that nobody should know too much about their own destiny. I guess Doc Brown was as smart as Marty McFly thought he was.
Chapter Fifteen
Perched on the padded seat of the bay window in my room, I hugged my knees to my chest and watched Salem dart across the tender new grass in the front yard. Terra must have marshaled Soleil and Evian to help with repairing the damage because the gardens appeared almost normal again.
Hightailing it from somewhere near the clearing where Clara stood immortalized in stone, Salem was little more than a black streak moving across the green. According to the terse note he'd left on my desk, he'd taken himself off to wherever it is familiars congregate for a well-deserved night of R&R. Reading between the lines, I knew he'd also gone fishing for information about Fate Weavers.
Shadows moved a fair distance across the grass before I heard his feet on the stairs.
Apparently, he was still angry with me for, as he put it, "dumping my problems off on him and leaving him stuck in the middle" of the whole godmothers vs. birth mother debacle. Then there was the unfortunate incident at the end. I hadn't meant for him to get caught up in the tantrum. Then again, I hadn't meant to throw one at all. Twenty-five is a little too old for such juvenile behavior.
Surprisingly, when I crept back into the house the next morning, the incident had gone unmentioned, and the faeries treated me with slightly more respect. Acting like a great big jerk is how they seem to define family, and I'd apparently risen a notch in their eyes--and probably dropped one in Salem's.
I suppose I couldn't really blame him. Hence, the seafood chowder in the refrigerator, as promised. When he finally slunk into my bedroom, Salem was licking his lips with a dreamy look in his eye, and it took everything I had not to pounce on him (pardon the expression) for information.
"You're not completely off the hook, Missy, but keep up with the brown nosing, and you might just get back in my good graces."
"What did you find out?"
"Who says I went looking for information? I took a night off. I'm entitled."
Under my best skeptical glare, he relented.
"I learned quite a bit, actually, once Fluffy and Chester stopped laughing at how long it's been since I could walk on two legs." Salem had been confined to his cat body until just a few weeks ago, and he hadn't been happy about it. Imagine my surprise when he'd shifted right in front of me for the first time. I'd thought him a stray when I bundled him up and brought him inside ten years ago, but apparently, he'd been waiting for me to come of age, and that had taken about a decade longer than it should have.
"Fluffy and Chester are your familiar friends?"
"Do you think my name has always been Salem?" he retorted, "we all get named by children unless their mothers have enough sense to intervene and insist on something more fitting of a being with nine whole lives."
"Well, sorry I didn't have a mother to help me name my magical cat! Or to tell me I was getting a magical cat! It could have been worse."
This conversation was veering way off course.
"I'm sorry. That was insensitive. I don't mind the name Salem; I only wish they'd used a real cat instead of that creepy animatronic thing on the show. You realize my memory spans lifetimes; I remember every ridiculous plot line of that silly sitcom thanks to you."
"Call it even?" I chanced a grin.
"Okay, even. But not on the chowder!"
"Agreed. Now talk."
"Fluffy's third witch was a demigod like you, back in the 1300's. Different father, but he picked up a lot of useful information about all kinds of things that familiars--or humans, for that matter--were never supposed to know. The gods are as old as time; Cupid included. Lexi, you're not the only one of your kind to ever exist. Your father has gotten around over the last few millennium
or so. You've got a lot of half-brothers and sisters out there, but I'm sorry to tell you that you're likely the last Fate Weaver left on this plane of existence."
I closed my eyes and tried to breathe slowly; I could handle this. It wasn't as though I hadn't contemplated this possibility already. What were the chances I'd actually find someone who understood what I was going through? Not good, I agree.
"Just keep going, I'm fine." I responded to the unspoken question written all over Salem's face. You know what it means when a woman says "I'm fine", right? It means run. Fast.
"Remember when I told you about how most demigods don't know what they are? Well, that's only a half-truth. There are some who know--some who understand--and some who use the power in their heritage for personal gain. Then there are others, like you, who use their abilities to foster good in the world. Who help lost souls find one another in much the same way as your FootSwept Matchmaking does. With Cupid MIA, you and a handful of your half-siblings are the only ones actively trying to maintain balance in the love department--and you've got just as many, if not more, trying to rip fated couples apart and tip the balance toward the dark. But none of them are able to See with the type of clarity you experience. That whole trick of watching a couple's life play out in front of your eyes; that's not normal. Er, well, normal for a Child of Cupid, I mean. You're even more special than you realize, Lexi. Fluffy says there hasn't been another Fate Weaver born for over 200 years, and the last one he knew didn't have that kind of power. It makes sense; you're not just any witch, you're a Balefire witch--and the Balefire name carries weight for a reason. "
"So Jett was right. We're on a precipice, aren't we? And you're telling me I'm the only one--save for the father I've never met and who could be on any one of an infinite number of physical or spiritual planes--who can carry the Bow of Destiny? Oh, and let's not forget, do whatever it is that I'm supposed to do with it and the power I still don't quite understand?"
All Spell is Breaking Loose: Lexi Balefire: Matchmaking Witch (Fate Weaver Book 2) Page 11