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

by Welling, ReGina

  Get serious, Lexi.

  With an effort, I moved deeper into a meditative state, letting images come as they would. I saw myself as my clients must see me; slightly mysterious, unconventional in my methods. I saw myself as the faeries regarded me; a child. Less than, if you're comparing chronology to chronology. I saw myself as Kin probably did; exciting and maybe a little dangerous. And I saw me as I must appear from Jett's perspective; a rival for his father's affections and the cause of every bad thing in his life.

  Through the bits and pieces of other's perceptions, I looked for the truth of my own. At first, all I saw were flaws. Late to gain my magic, bumbling in the dark, emotionally blocked at times. But these were limits I placed on myself--bits of the facade we all present to the world.

  When the meditation took on the same quality as the visions I'd begun having, I knew I was onto something and followed the path of them deeper and deeper. If I'd ever had any question of whether my soul was ripe for wicked dealings, those questions fell away the closer I came to what I needed to see.

  Passing by images of myself helping clients, doing things for the faeries, being a friend to Flix, even fighting with Serena crowded my vision like a this is your life montage. Each one showing something true, whether that truth was good or bad. I saw and felt every ounce of joy I'd brought to people, and also the pain I'd caused as I moved ever inward.

  Light streamed from the center, my epicenter. Light so bright it dazzled my eyes.

  The final two images shown were silhouettes. The one on the left had me decked out in full witch regalia. Okay, it was cliched regalia--a peaked hat and pointy-toed shoes, but I got the message. The one on the right was me holding a bow and arrow. The bow and arrow, I assumed.

  I knew what I had to do. Embracing both silhouettes, I merged them into one. A witch with a peaked hat, pointy shoes, and a bow and arrow. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Lexi Balefire, Fate Weaver.

  My eyes popped open and my internal GPS revved into overdrive. The bow was close by, I felt the pull of it stronger than anything I'd ever felt before.

  "Sylv...Mom. It's here, follow me."

  We hurried toward the cluster of thatched-roofed, stone structures laid out in a starburst pattern and I unerringly led her to the round building that formed the center.

  "This one."

  "You're sure?" The feral gleam in her eye must have been a trick of the light, because the next second, she pulled me into a hug and danced me around in a circle. "I knew you could do it, I just knew you could."

  Once the hilarity was over, Sylvana contemplated the door for several seconds. "Now the fun starts. This whole place is a giant magical booby trap. We reset the first trap just by making the path appear. That was the easy part, but I've been here before, and I think I remember what to do." Reaching out a tentative finger, she pressed a spot on the door frame, and we heard a quiet click. The next two hidden buttons, Sylvana danced fingers over confidently, and then a third.

  A bolt of blue lightning shot out of the door and hit my mother in the chest. Helpless, I watched her fly fifteen feet like she weighed less than a rag doll to be dashed against the stone wall of the next building over. Her crumpled form crashed to the ground with a heavy thud and lay unmoving. My heart thundered in my chest as I rushed to her side with dread pulling at my feet. She couldn't be dead just when I'd finally started to get to know her.

  Dark eyelashes rested on a cheek made paler by the contrast of a scarlet trickle that traced a path from temple to chin. A flutter of a pulse beat at her throat, and I swallowed hard to clear the lump in my own.

  Not dead. Okay, Lexi, now what?

  Healing spells hadn't topped my priority list or Salem's, so I relied on what little I remembered from a couple of Red Cross courses I'd taken at the Y and a hastily spoken spell to stabilize her neck and spine. A rising lump on her head, bruises blooming darkly across her skin, and out cold, I needed to figure out what to do for my mother, and we were in the middle of nowhere. In fact, I think we'd taken a right at the boonies and just kept going.

  Trusting my spell work to keep her stable, I lifted Sylvana in a fireman's carry and thanked my mother for passing along her sturdy genes. Getting her balanced was awkward and I was sweating by the time I felt ready to start the walk back to the main trail.

  "I've got you, Mom. It's going to be okay." I didn't know if she could hear me, but I needed the words to be said so that I would believe them during the long walk back. She almost slid off my shoulders when I pressed the knot that closed the trail behind me, and I made it all the way to the waterfall before I remembered the laborious climb back to the car.

  One look at the steep angle and I knew I couldn't do it. Not because my heart wasn't in it, but because I'd need both hands to hold her steady and another pair to do the same for myself. Carefully, I laid her on the softest moss I could find and sat beside Sylvana to think. Few options presented themselves.

  Taking her to a medical center meant questions and paperwork that I instinctively knew she wouldn't welcome. Calling Kin would bring his help and his sturdy back, but it would also invite questions.

  That left calling one of the godmothers. Or all of them, as was often the case. Given a choice, I'd have opted for Vaeta. Something told me she, alone of the three, would be most sympathetic and her wind power most helpful. She'd probably blow Sylvana back to the car--in a nice way, of course. The problem was that I hadn't known her long enough to be able to call to her in that way. Our connection was too tenuous, which left me with three worsening choices.

  Soleil's heat and life-giving sun had healing properties, but her attitude toward Sylvana was the most extreme of the three. She might refuse to help. Evian's water could lift, but it could also unintentionally drown an unconscious woman. And Terra. Terra could move mountains, so one tiny body posed no problem, and in deference to me, she would never harm my mother. It would be her response to me, to my being here in the first place and the reproach in her eyes that I wanted to avoid.

  The sun slipping over the ridge cast the glade into shadow, and I knew I was running out of time. Full dark was still hours away, but I needed to decide now. Before I ended up spending the night here because of my own indecision.

  "Terra, I need you!" When it came down to brass tacks, Terra was my faerie godmother, and she loved me. That was never in doubt. "Please."

  "What? Are you all right?" Blood stained my clothes, and Sylvana rested far enough away that Terra only saw me when she popped in. "Where are you hurt?"

  "It's not me. Leave off." I pushed away the gentle hands searching my body for broken bones and damage. "Over here. Can you help her?" Pulling Terra, I knelt beside my mother.

  One elegantly raised eyebrow was followed by a narrow-eyed frown, but Terra did as I asked and gave Sylvana her attention.

  "Smells like burned magic. You know I can't reverse certain types of magical damage. I can strengthen her physical body, but she'll have to deal with the magical repercussions on her own."

  "Do what you can." My arm went around Terra's waist, and I huddled in tight. She had always been my rock. Even when she rolled over me in what she termed to be my best interests. "For me."

  "Very well." Terra laid hands on Sylvana and chanted in her mother tongue while Sylvana lay quiet under her ministrations. The chanting lasted several minutes while white fire flickered from her fingertips to be absorbed into my mother's skin. When it all was over, Sylvana remained in a stupor while Terra appeared visibly tired from her efforts. "She'll live."

  My gratitude leaked onto my cheeks along with tears of relief. "Can you get her back to the car so I can drive her home."

  "I'll drive. My license came today."

  At that point, I would have let her take me on a magic carpet ride to Timbuktu by way of Peoria, so I agreed.

  Long before we reached the outskirts of the city, I envied Sylvana's state of consciousness. Her face might be pale, but my dash-gripping knuckles were just as white. The only other t
hing I can say about Terra's driving is that it pushed fear for my mother out of my head to make room for fear for my own life. Oh, and that I'd probably better increase the personal liability rates on my insurance.

  Sylvana came to with a start as the car rocked to a halt in our driveway. Terra threw her an enigmatic look, treated me to another and exited the car without another word. I'd gotten off lightly and so had my mother.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "Lexi, sit down, please. There's something we'd like to discuss with you." Terra beckoned to me the moment I stepped into the foyer. All four of them, plus Kin perched on the edges of various pieces of furniture, each with their shoulders set in determination. Salem, in cat form, blinked at me from the back of the sofa and I stuck my tongue out at him in return for his equally childish behavior.

  "You'll have to change back to your human form at some point." I spit at him under my breath as I crossed my arms over my chest and took a seat on one of the sofas.

  "Soleil, you go first," Terra hissed, passing the buck she obviously felt uncomfortable carrying.

  "No, it's Evian's turn." She retorted.

  Kin sighed and rose to his feet. "I'll go. Lexi, we're worried about you. You're obsessed with the idea of finding this bow, but do you even know what to do with it if you get it? You haven't been acting like yourself lately: you never tell anyone where you're going; you keep disappearing with Sylvana, and when you come back you're different. Amped up, like you drank a pot of espresso and then ran a marathon. It's scary, and we're afraid you might be in over your head. Are you into something dangerous?"

  Like what? Did they think I was doing drugs or something?

  Apparently, they did.

  The godmothers had not watched a sufficient amount of cable television to be familiar with the show Intervention, and it was apparent they had absolutely no idea how to conduct one. But it's the only word that could be used to describe what I walked into when I got home that evening.

  There was tea, and petit fours lavishly arranged on paper doilies laid out on the parlor coffee table, and streamers hung across all the windows and doors. Streamers. That's what tipped me off to the fact that the godmothers had set up this shenanigan themselves. Absolutely zero understanding of proper human etiquette, those faeries.

  "No, I'm not." Or not intentionally, anyway. It's not like I asked for any of this. A bounty hunter, my resurrected mother, my birthright to find, and stupid Jett meddling in my affairs.

  "See, you say no, but I can tell you're thinking about it, so you really mean yes."

  I ran my hands through my hair and pulled a little at the roots; the sharp pain kept the top of my head from blowing off when my blood pressure hit critical mass. All I had been trying to do was help people and keep everyone safe.

  And maybe learn some stronger magic than Salem, the King of over-protective, wanted to teach.

  "We're worried about you." Soleil finally did take her turn. "We think your...Sylvana is a bad influence. She might not have your best interests at heart. Too much power, too fast, can lead to, well, consequences."

  Terra interjected, "I saw what happened tonight, and I know for sure she has no respect for the rule of threes. If dark magic is the fastest way from point A to point B, she'll use it. None of us want you caught in the crossfire. Maybe this bow isn't worth the price you'll be asked to pay to get it."

  My nearly blasting Serena to little bits flashed through my head, and I pushed it away just as quickly as it came. That had been a one-time thing. A momentary loss of control.

  It felt good, though, didn't it? The devil on my shoulder insisted.

  It will never happen again. The angel replied.

  They're jealous of Sylvana. The devil sneered.

  The devil won.

  "You're just jealous because you've had me all to yourselves for years and now that she's back, I'd like to get to know my mother, and that makes you feel threatened, so you're lashing out at me."

  "If that's all it was, I wouldn't be here, Lexi," Kin spoke quietly. "It's more than that. It's the look in your eyes when you come home from spending time wherever it is you go with her. I'm scared because you're acting like you're hooked on the magic. Salem said it's a possibility."

  Salem should have exploded into a singed furball based on the look I scorched him with.

  "Compared to what Sylvana has taught me, Salem is a glorified pet who should mind his own business. I'm an adult, not a fourteen-year-old novice witch. I have more control and skill than a teenager, and you," I pinned the cat with a gimlet-eyed glare, "should have the sense to let me fly."

  Terra's firm voice cut through the silence. "Are you quite finished?"

  Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't, but the respect I owed her stilled any retort I might have made.

  "You're right, you're not a child, but you are a novice witch, whether you want to believe it or not, and there is a danger of getting too strong too quickly. You would be wise to listen to Salem's council, and the way you're treating him is not exemplary of how we raised you. Are you going to go to Flix's house and call him a half-breed while you're at it? As to the matter of jealousy..."

  Fear chilled me briefly when Terra's beautiful facade slipped just enough to show the vengeful faerie underneath. I'd seen her mad enough times to know this was a whole other level of emotion.

  "...you're my charge regardless of any other relationship we have forged between us. That is a bond I cannot alter. It is not, however, a bond that my sisters are required to share, nor does it require the extra consideration you've enjoyed thus far. I've looked on you as my own, and I don't mind saying I'm worried about you. There are things you lack the experience to understand and an addiction to dark magic is one of them. Be mindful of the rule of threes. What you send out will come home to roost."

  "I'm fine. None of you are witches, and you have no idea what you're talking about. I can stop anytime I want." Couldn't I? I was sure I could. Tossing my head, I strode out of the room. The one thing I couldn't do was handle being around any of them any longer.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Kicking Pinky up to top speed, I roared off down the street.

  How dare they accuse me of embracing the darkness after what it had already cost me? The legacy of wickedness passed down from Clara to Sylvana would end with me. Not that I thought my mother was truly wicked anymore.

  She wasn't the one standing like a granite effigy to evil. If she cut a few corners to get the job done, what was the harm in that? No one had gotten hurt, and my spell-casting skills were exponentially better, so what was with the intervention? For as long as I could remember, I'd regularly stopped Terra from doing worse things to Soleil than I'd ever done. What a bunch of hypocrites.

  What I wouldn't give to run into Delta right now; I was in the mood for a good fight, and I'd had just about enough of feeling watched wherever I went. I'm so used to Terra looking in on me I don't even notice her attention anymore. Ever since Delta showed up, though, I'd been feeling eyes on my back every time I left the house. It was making me twitchy and self-conscious, and worse; I was beginning to feel a constant sense of helplessness.

  The bulk of my life I've been powerless, unawakened. It's become a habit to look to someone else for supernatural protection whenever I've needed it. Before Sylvana came back, I could have used some witchy self-help tapes to play at night.

  I'm a strong, confident witch. My spells always work, and I can take care of myself.

  Salem would have hated it.

  Righteous anger carried me to my dealer for a fix. Sinclair Fuller wasn't a supernatural, but you couldn't prove it by the magic he made with chocolate. I hit his door so hard his little warning bell made an angry sound. Sinclair took one look at my face and pulled out a large box with his Sinful logo scrawled over the top.

  "Don't tell me; it's a twelve." We have a system of evaluating how bad a day I've had based on the number of chocolates it will take to cheer me up. I consider myself a happy perso
n, so a twelve was as rare as a tie-dyed unicorn. Picking through a tray of confections, Sinclair started loading the box without asking for my input. That was okay by me; I trusted his judgment.

  "You don't know the half of it. Make it a double."

  Sinclair's eyes went wide with shock, but he pulled out a second box and leaned toward me conspiratorially, "I've got something in the back I've been experimenting with, you want?"

  "Hit me."

  "You sure? This is some hard-core stuff. The centers are half a shot of cinnamon liqueur in a hard chocolate shell, and then I roll the whole thing in a thick layer of truffle."

  "Hit me," I repeated and motioned for him to run along and load me up with the goods. I juggled the heavy boxes into my bag while he rang me up--with the friends and family discount, of course.

  "You'll tell me how you like them later?" Sinclair sounded concerned, and I gave him a thumbs up over my shoulder.

  Dark chocolate cravings could wait until I found a place to settle for the night. I pulled out my phone and called Flix.

  "You up for some chocolate, a bad '80's movie, and some good conversation?" I asked when he picked up on the fifth ring.

  When he didn't answer right away, I guessed what he was going to say, and was right on target. "I wish I could, but I'm going to have to take a rain check. Carl's here," he whispered conspiratorially. I wasn't in the mood for false intimacy. I'd wanted to vent, and selfishly wished Flix was still single and available at my beck and call. I needed my best friend. Unfortunately, it didn't look as though tonight was going to be my night.

  "I get it. Call me when you can." I hung up, wishing for about the billionth time that you could slam a cell phone. Maybe he knew about Kin's little coup d'etat.

  Fine, if that's the way they all wanted to play it. There was one person I knew who wouldn't shame me for using magic; one person who might understand what I was going through. The spoiled brat inside me knew it was a vindictive thing to do, running to Sylvana when I knew my faerie godmothers would prefer I keep my distance--but the brat didn't care.