by L. M. Pruitt
“But why?” I needed to know. “Until a few days ago, I had no idea where I came from, what I was capable of. I don’t know how to fight a war. I don’t know how to begin, how to lead. I’m stumbling around in the dark.”
“You’re wrong. You do know how to lead.” Rian sat up, turning his arms until his palms faced up. “Even though it caused you discomfort and was unnecessary, you took away my pain, because it was the right thing to do.”
“And when you could have backed down and gone the way of the majority of the Council, you made the decision to fight. Because what you said was true – unless Hart is destroyed, the war will never end. There will never be peace.” Father O’Brien unclasped his hands to finger his rosary, a gesture done more out of habit than true desire to pray.
“Part of leading is not knowing.” I turned to listen to Theo, slouched in the wingback chair. The furniture was soft, but not comfortable. I had a tendency to slouch the same way. “The Council has stalled any growth in the Covenant for fear of exposure. Like we’d be burned at the stake, in today’s society. You’ve said to hell with what might happen.”
I took all this in, all this faith. Utter belief that I could do this thing a group of more experienced people had been unable to do. Confidence I would steer all of us through this course, and come out fine in the end.
It scared me shitless.
Seeing I had no response, they all stood and as one gave a stiff bow from the waist. Something about the gesture, about the solemnity and formality of it, had tears stinging the back of my eyes. Not the best reaction after people pledge themselves to you.
To keep myself from crying even one tear, I closed my eyes and gave a sharp nod to acknowledge their gesture. The sound of footsteps and murmurs drifted back to me as they left, until there was nothing but silence in the room again.
“Council meetings eventually get easier.”
My eyes flew open, and I had to pound on my chest for a moment to get my heart to start again. “Jesus, Theo, give a little warning. Between you and Williams I’m going to go gray before I turn thirty.”
“Well, at least you’re predicting you’ll reach thirty. That shows both a streak of stubbornness and a sense of optimism.”
Instead of leaving with Rian and Father O’Brien, Theo had retaken his seat next to mine. His cheek rested in his hand, elbow propped on the armchair. He looked utterly at ease, but when you’re as tall as we both are it’s impossible to get comfortable in these chairs.
“Wow, super stealthy and full of humor. I’ve hit the jackpot in you, haven’t I?” And just as quick, I realized I’d done it. I’d shifted him from the friend zone to the probably zone. Less than three hours, and he’d made the jump. Crap.
“I like to think that I offer a wide range of services. Although the charge for sarcasm steadily increases as wittier statements are required.” A smile teased around the edges of his mouth, a smile that let me know I’d never been in the friend zone for him. I’d gone straight to the probably zone after his great-grandmother’s foghorn of a voice knocked me on my ass. That’s a great story to tell people when they ask you how the pair of you met.
Double crap. So not supposed to be having thoughts about telling the how-we-met story.
“What about jokes? Flat rate or sliding scale, depending on the smut factor?” Oh. My. God. My mouth would not stop working independent of my brain. Theo’s smile was full-blown, and it was a doozy. You could melt ice with that smile.
“Sliding scale, absolutely. I’d tell you the one about the priest, the nun, and the confessional, but I’m not sure you’re willing to pay those rates yet.” I jolted a little when he reached out across the brief space between our chairs and took my hand. After a second, I relaxed, letting myself enjoy the contact. His hand was as warm as when he’d pulled me up, and I made a mental note to ask about his gift.
“Probably not. Any jokes involving the Catholic Church usually have pretty hefty costs.” Flirting with Theo was easier than flirting with Williams. More comfortable. So it made me a little disappointed when he raised my hand to his lips, kissing the tips of my fingers before letting them go and standing.
“Another time then. If I don’t see to Great-grandmother Lisette, she’ll try and steal your china.” With a brief run of his fingers over my limp hand and a wistful smile, he headed toward the door. Rather than watch him leave, I turned my head to study the shelves of books flanking the fireplace. Alone, in a library of magic books. Might be a good time to study.
“You seem to have acquired another admirer, Jude Magdalyn.”
Or maybe not.
Chapter Twelve
“Didn’t we just have a conversation yesterday where you said you’d work on not sneaking up on people?” I was getting used to being scared out of my skin. Too used to anything is a bad thing, especially when it involved deadly predator type people.
“I said I would do my best. Perhaps if you hadn’t been occupied, you would have heard me when I came into the room.” Williams’ voice was getting louder, either because he was getting closer or he was just getting louder. Since I’d yet to hear him raise his voice, I assumed he was getting closer. When I felt soft fabric brush my hand, still hanging over the arm of the chair, I knew I was right.
I opened my eyes to find Williams sitting where Theo had been only a few moments before. He was wearing his usual brown and cream combination, the usual expression of boredom on his face.
Something lurked behind his eyes, at odds with the casualness of his movement and the nonchalance of his voice. I wasn’t overly worried, but it puzzled me. Williams in general puzzled me most of the time, but this was like an extra little something to try and wrap my mind around. Oh, joy.
“Either we were talking quite a bit louder than I thought, the acoustics are worse, or you were still walking very quietly.” When he made no response, a thought popped in my head. “Or maybe you were listening outside the door.”
“I do have exceptional hearing.”
“You’re not even going to deny it.”
“Jude Magdalyn, you are many things, none of which is stupid. Denying the truth when you and I know what it is comes perilously close to calling you stupid.” Williams tapped his fingers rapidly against the fabric of the chair, probably the first even semi-nervous gesture I’d ever seen him make. Something told me it wasn’t nerves that had him so rattled.
“So maybe you’d care to tell me why you were listening to what most people would consider a private conversation?” Annoyance crept into my voice, despite my best efforts to prevent it. I was trying to be civil.
“No, not really.”
I waited, sure he was joking. When I glanced at his face, I realized he wasn’t. “So first you’re rude enough to listen in on private conversations, and then you don’t even have the decency to say why?”
“That sums it up nicely.” Williams exhaled audibly, a nifty trick since I’d learned he didn’t really need to breathe. “Moments like this make me wish it were still possible to consume alcohol.”
“Well, that was helpful in explaining everything. Thanks a lot.” Disgusted with Williams for not telling and myself for being so frickin’ curious, I pushed up from the chair. Instead of studying books, I’d go find Gillian and see about some hands on training. I had one element down, kind of. Best to get to work on the other three.
I’d taken a few steps in the direction of the door when I felt a hand on my elbow, whirling me around. I crashed into Williams, wincing since it was a little like running into a brick wall. I was prepared to be irate – I’m not big on being grabbed, although since I’d been spending a lot of time around so many touchy-feely people I was getting better – but his mouth on mine stopped that. It’s hard to be irate when you’re being kissed deaf, dumb, and blind.
Before I could process that we were kissing, he’d pushed me away from him. This time it was easy to read the look on his face – disapproval. His hand dropped from my elbow like it had burned him.
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“I can smell him on you.”
With that absolutely weird statement, he strode past me, leaving me standing alone in the cavernous room. Placing my hands on my hips, I counted to ten, very, very slowly. Then for good measure I counted to ten again. I was on my third count when a voice had me whirling around.
“Now that the Council has left, we can start our training for the evening.” Gillian looked up from the book she was reading as she crossed the room. Tilting her head to one side, she asked, “Problem, Jude?”
“Men.” Gesturing at the walls of books to my right, I asked, “Anything in one of those to help explain them?”
“Only if you’d like the explanation for how to turn one into an ass.” Gillian’s lips twitched for a moment, fighting the smile that erupted across her face after a split second. “A literal ass. They usually know how to make a figurative ass of themselves without any metaphysical help at all.”
“I don’t think truer words have ever been spoken.” Sighing, I pulled my hair into a ponytail, shaking a few of the kinks from sitting in the chair out of my body. “So, what kind of fun forms of teaching torture are we exploring tonight?”
“We’ll begin work on fire.” Gillian paused, looking around the room. “I wonder if the fire extinguisher is still down here, and if it still works.”
“Everybody’s a fucking comedian tonight, aren’t they?”
“Really, Jude, I think it’s time we took a break. You’ve been practicing for close to two hours. Your hand is redder than the fire extinguisher.” Gillian gave a little pitty-pat to her heart, probably trying to get me to chuckle. It didn’t work. “And honestly, my nerves are starting to fray a little.”
“Yeah, and if I buy that, are you going to sell me some ocean-front property in Kansas?” My snort would have done a pig proud. “Your nerves fray as easily as a man tells the truth.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were one of those man-hating women.” Gillian held her hands up palms out when I opened my eyes enough to glare at her. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but to me it always made as much sense as all those woman-hating men.”
“What makes no sense is to treat every conversation like it’s an episode of that pyramid show.” When Gillian looked at me blankly, I threw my hands in the air. “You know, the one where you have to get the other person to guess the word without using it, and if you get them all you get a boat-load of money?”
Realization dawned after a moment. “Ah. The sixty-four thousand dollar pyramid. Or something like that. I know the show now.” Gillian brushed her hair behind her shoulders, still a perfect straight line even after being up for hours, and dealing with my way-off fire throwing skills. “That was a rather annoying game show.”
“Exactly!” Thankful she not only got my point but agreed with it, I yanked my own hair out of its ponytail, wincing when the rough texture of the rubber band scraped my reddened palm. Gillian was right about my hands, they looked like I’d stuck them on a hot burner and left them there for five minutes. If I was lucky, they wouldn’t blister. If not, time to bust out the salve Gillian was always talking about.
“Either say what you mean, or just don’t say anything at all. I mean, it makes perfect sense to me.” I whirled around when I reached the edge of the largest circle, pacing back towards the center. I’d been standing in essentially the same place for the last two hours; the only reason I’d stayed standing was I’d remembered to not lock my knees, thank you very much Sister Agnes and four hour long choir practices. When I reached the opposite edge of the outer circle and whirled to pace back the way I came, Gillian was standing in the center, smiling at me.
“I may be wrong – which I doubt – but I would guess that we’re not talking about men in general, but about one man specifically. And have been all evening.”
Crossing my arms under my breasts, I stomped my foot. “He can smell him on me? What kind of bullshit statement is that?”
To her credit, Gillian didn’t ask me to explain. “Williams didn’t take kindly to Theo displaying an interest in you?”
My mouth dropped, and I blubbered for a moment before managing a semi-intelligent sentence. “It was a few jokes. I don’t think it qualifies as ‘displaying an interest’.”
“You mean to say that you, a healthy, mostly normal, adult female, and Theo, a healthy, mostly normal, adult male, merely sat and exchanged a few witty words?” Gillian raised an eyebrow at me, a gesture I could appreciate for its sarcasm since I tended to do it quite often. “Jude, like my grandmother used to say, I was born in the dark, but it wasn’t last night.”
“More clever colloquialisms,” I muttered, stung. “Are you saying that it’s impossible for a man and a woman to be just friends?”
“I said no such thing. You won’t be putting words in my mouth, Jude Magdalyn Henries.” Uh-oh. The full name always meant trouble. Gillian crossed her arms, mirroring my stance, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “What I’m saying is that there is no way that you can be ‘just friends’ with Theo. Williams knows it. He’s trying to stake a claim, so you have no option but to merely work with Theo.”
“Okay, cut the crap. Staking a claim?” When she didn’t laugh, I felt my eyes grow wide. “You’re serious. What am I, a piece of undiscovered land?”
“Take this in the spirit it’s offered, but I don’t think you’ve been undiscovered for a long time.” Ouch. That one had a bite to it, but since Gillian was far from wrong, I couldn’t really call her on it. “If you were engaged in a relationship of any seriousness with one man, would you still act like an unattached woman with an interested man?”
“Define relationship and seriousness. And unattached. And interested.” Again, no laughter. If this Prophecy thing didn’t work, I apparently wasn’t going to go into stand-up comedy. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t have the best moral compass in the world, Gillian.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Williams, and most likely Theo, know you better than you know yourself, and after mere moments alone with you.” Her voice grew softer, and her eyes glazed over, like she was seeing things that weren’t there. “Your father knew your mother the same way. Like he’d known her all her life.”
My curiosity got the better of me. I know, it killed the cat and all, but I was willing to take a few risks. “So it was love at first sight, like the kind you read about?”
Gillian didn’t look at me, but I knew she’d heard me. After a moment, she answered. “More like love at first breath. There was never a man before your father for Martha, and your mother was the only woman that really mattered to Luc.”
“True love.” It was almost a whisper, but I knew it would echo around me. I was starting to learn certain words carried a power, a weight. When you spoke them, the air resonated.
“Yes. They lived in the dark for twenty-five years, and only a few months in the light.” A tear slid down Gillian’s cheek. I’m not sure she even noticed. It made things the more unreal, to watch this amazing woman cry without any sound at all. “I think they would do it all again, without changing a thing, if given the chance. They loved so deeply in the short time they had.”
The faint tickle on my face made me realize I was crying as well. For them, for me. For everything that might have been, if only things had been a little different. For all my life, my parents had been nothing but a blank space, nothing there to fill it. Now there was something, and as much as I devoured every piece of history I was given, it made my heart ache to realize just how much had been lost.
“Suzanne said love waited for me. All I had to do was take it. She made it sound like there was only one option.”
Gillian rubbed her face over her hand, a brisk motion, breaking the little bubble of calm we’d wrapped ourselves in. “Go back to Suzanne. The future changes with every second. One of the things that makes it so hard to predict.”
I digested that, and it raised a few questions. “So Rian’s abilities are imprecise
?”
“Surprisingly, no. Rian has proven to be the exception to the rule.” Gillian’s voice was back to its normal volume and cadence, almost like the previous conversation had never happened. “If Rian says it’s to occur, the probability of whatever he sees is between ninety-eight and ninety-nine percent.”
“Because people are notorious for changing their minds at the last minute, even when they’ve been stuck on a course for years.” I nodded, understanding. Even the Church preached about free-will, and deathbed conversions weren’t called that because the person had lived like a saint their whole life.
“Yes, exactly. But enough of this.” Gillian unfolded her arms, letting them hang loose by her sides. “You’ll make a decision at some point, and I have little doubt that it will be the best decision possible. For now, we need to work on you throwing fire without taking out innocent bystanders.”
“Maybe if I did a little more work on calling air first? Just to get the energy levels back up, so to speak?” I shrugged my shoulders when she looked at me blankly. “Maybe there’s like a progression or something, at least at first.”
“I find myself wondering if these bouts of inspiration come to you because of your life on the streets, or if they just randomly pop into your head without any precursors whatsoever.”
“I guess thank you isn’t really the best thing to say in response to that.” I moved to the center of the circle, closing my eyes, centering myself. I thought of a storm, and this time it was much easier to bring it towards me, those outer bands. When the wind was blowing hard enough to have the furniture rattle and lift from the floor, I began pushing the storm away. I kept it hovering at the very edge of my consciousness, so far out you really couldn’t feel any wind. I knew it was still there, waiting to be called back to do some real damage.