by LJ Vickery
Chapter Sixteen
Dorian Penmarch was not a patient man. Hell, he wasn’t a man at all. He was one of the oldest and most powerful warlocks―one of a small elite―in the United States. So why was he nervous? Anxiety was not part of his makeup. He’d fought wars and been more at ease. How was it that one small, insignificant witch could make him forget his manners, and tempt him to change into newt form to escape? He’d been rude to his hosts…and his granddaughter, which was unforgivable. He’d seen the “oh really?” looks on their faces as he strode into the room and demanded to see Addie May. He’d barely been able to be civil until his normal comportment kicked back to the forefront.
“Forgive me,” he’d backpedaled, attempting to speak more kindly to Lenore. “I’m Dorian Penmarch, your grandfather.” He’d picked up her hand, hastily kissed it, then taken it in a firmer grasp. “Your mother and I have been online friends for almost a year now, so I feel as if we’re already acquainted. The pictures on her wall, however, do you no justice.”
He’d smiled, and Lenore had caught her breath.
“Granddad, you are stunning,” she hadn’t hesitated in her opinion. “And isn’t that just a boot in the ass.” She’d looked him up and down in a very ungranddaughterly way. “You have it going on in that bad boy lean-meat kind of way. Not like my husband and his friends, all beefy and heavy with muscles. You’re more like whiplash material―tall, hard, and chorded.”
“Don’t be shy about your opinion, Lenore.” He’d felt an actual smirk come to his mouth. The first in many years.
Lenore hadn’t seemed the least bit contrite over his amusement, but had continued her dissection. “Jet black hair, a little long over the ears, a silver dagger earring. Really?” She’d rolled her eyes.
What? Was the earring over the top? He’d worn it for centuries and never felt self-conscious about it before.
Lenore’s eyes then dropped to his fingernails. “Blunt and bare. Not painted black. Nice. Nothing says insecure witch like black nails.” She’d given a satisfied nod. “There’s a lot about you that says dangerous, and I like that, but damn, Gramps. Gram never said you were hot.”
“Your grandmother’s beauty always made mine dull in comparison.” He’d nodded assuredly and noticed that Lenore hesitated
“Dorian…Grandfather…” Lenore had stuttered. She clearly didn’t know what to call him.
“Dorian will do.” He’d smiled slightly.
“I know you want to see Gram right away, but while she’s still an awesome looking woman, you need to understand that she’s nearing seventy. She’s aged while you…”
“…haven’t,” he’d finished. “I’m aware of that, Lenore. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t missed her. I’m prepared.” He’d coughed then, effectively ending that line of discussion. “Where are my manners?” he’d chided himself, and turned to one with a plethora of braids. “You would be the god of wind, am I correct?” He’d already done the niceties with Enten and Marduk at the door.
“Enlil. Yes.” The golden-haired god had stepped forward in greeting.
Marduk spoke up, “We two,” he had pointed to himself and Enlil “are…nominally in charge of things here.”
Dorian could tell that the thunder god joked, but not really. He understood what Marduk communicated. The pair―with Marduk being slightly on top―had been given leadership of the compound, but his residents had a mind of their own. Having presided over a number of startup covens in the past several hundred years, Dorian commiserated. One never had full control over fledglings.
“We have a dinner planned for tomorrow, after the arrival of your, uh, Addie May’s father, Waylon Blau,” Marduk had continued.
Dorian had not hesitated. “You were correct in your first assumption, Marduk. Waylon is my father-in-law. Technically, Addie May is still my wife. We never dissolved our union, and I have never taken a new consort.”
That had gotten everyone’s attention, and made Dorian angry. Clearly, Addie May talked of him as her ex.
“I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot,” Marduk had recovered quickly. “It’s obvious I should have done my homework better. Clearly, you know more about us, than we do about you.”
Dorian had almost smiled again. The big god was discomfited, not enjoying his lack of intel. He’d known that the thunder immortal would remedy that before the banquet.
He’d tipped his head politely, while Marduk continued, “You can use today to familiarize yourself with the house, the grounds, and our available technology, and get settled in before we share details of our dilemma. If you need to leave the compound for any reason, we will have to lower our protective barriers, so let us know.” He’d given Dorian another assessing look. “How do you travel?” He wasn’t asking about planes, trains, and automobiles.
“I conjure an article from the place I need to visit, and cast a spell using that item. It brings me where I need to go.” He’d smirked at Marduk. “Your barriers made it impossible for me to get anything from your home and grounds, so the nearest I could appear was down the road a ways. Hence, me requesting entrance and showing up on your doorstop to ring the bell.”
Marduk had nodded. “We’re recalling everyone from their assignments for our banquet, so you can meet all parties concerned. Nergal and Ereshkigal from the Underworld will be making an appearance. I understand you’re acquainted with our king?”
Dorian’s lip had curled in an actual small, amused smile this time. “Nergal and I have had the pleasure of meeting before, yes.” He’d turned to Enten to forestall any additional questions. “I understand that you and my granddaughter have charge of me.” He’d already liked the god of winter’s cool attitude. They would deal well together. “I wonder if I could be shown to my quarters, and then…” He raised an eyebrow as if daring anyone to deny him. “I will have my reunion with Addie May.”
The initial meeting with the gods had been mercifully swift, which was a good thing. Marduk had said he wanted to get back to wife and new baby, Enlil had received a head-call from Absu and Ishkur, which necessitated a trip to California. And Enten and Lenore had ushered Dorian to the second of two guest houses before finally leaving him alone to unpack.
The cottage, comfortable though it appeared, was where Dorian uncomfortably paced now. He was barely able to take note of the superlative arts-and-crafts decor in the lovely―albeit empty of other guests―abode where he’d stowed his goods. The oak, pegged floor beneath his feet, took a pounding while he impatiently waited for his one-time bride to appear. How would this all play out?
The door made an almost imperceptible click, but Dorian’s waiting ears picked it up. He stopped midstride and held still, his back to the entry. He sucked in his breath.
“Dorian?” The voice his soul recognized from more than forty years past came tentatively across the room.
“Addie,” he breathed.
Slowly, Dorian turned. He was prepared, yet totally unprepared for the small woman who stood stock still several feet away. He studied her, and forcibly fought back tears that gathered in his eyes. He could see her, his Addie, in the set of this older woman’s shoulders and in the thrust of her chin, but the vibrancy of the little witch he’d fallen for had dulled with time. And his heart ached with the knowledge. The silence was awkward, and he sought to break it, to put Addie at ease.
“I remember what a stunning woman your mother was,” Dorian stated.
Addie May nodded her head in acknowledgment.
“You remind me of her.” His feet finally moved. He approached his one-time bride and raised his arms slowly. He let out a pent-up breath. Apparently, his witch couldn’t help herself. She melted toward him.
Dorian enfolded her in his strong arms, and Addie kept her face hidden in the material of his shirt. She laughed bitterly. “I suppose I can pretend that you’re my grandson.” Her voice trembled. “There wouldn’t be any other reason for you to hug an old woman.” She resisted his fingers as he attempted to raise her face,
but she lost the battle.
“This woman is now, and will always be, nothing less than my wife.” He saw her then, his Addie, in the eyes that poignantly met his. “You’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
He counted. Addie May allowed herself twenty seconds of weakness, before she wrenched away. It was longer than he expected.
“I’m surprised you’ve come.” She turned her back and walked a few steps away from him, farther into the kitchen. “Why did you?”
Dorian’s eyes were free to wander, taking her all in. He recognized hints of the auburn hair that had defined her so long ago, which had now turned blonde-gray the way redheads often did. Her hips, although wider and a little softer, still looked shapely as they trailed down to legs encased in jeans. Funny, he’d never seen her in pants before. Even in the last of their years together in the seventies, Addie had always preferred wildly freeing peasant skirts to bell-bottoms. He remembered something else that made him smile. She’d never worn panties beneath those long skirts.
“Do you wear anything beneath your trousers?” Dorian couldn’t help it. The question popped out. Addie turned and he caught the shadow of an impish smile.
“I’ve always been a creature of habit, you know—” The door opened and cut off whatever else she would have revealed.
A dark shadow passed into the room. Dorian’s eyebrows raised. It wasn’t often he found himself poleaxed. “Oh my gods. That’s not…it couldn’t possibly be…Wizarr?” Dorian fell to his haunches and held his hand out to the cat. There was a moment of hesitation, a look that couldn’t be explained, before the feline sidled slowly forward.
Addie May spoke softly, “He stayed with me after you left. I don’t understand why he didn’t choose you. The two of you were always so attached.” Dorian was aware that Addie held her breath while Wizarr circled him.
He stayed still but murmured small ancient things to calm the wary cat, and just as he sensed Addie May about to step in to diffuse the situation, the cat gathered himself and leaped. Dorian caught him midair while the feline yowled mightily. He kissed the outraged beast on the nose, and cradled him close to his chest.
“Ah, you remembered that trick, did you?” Dorian asked. “Good cat.” He stroked the black fur and muttered into Wizarr’s ear. “It is splendid to see you, old man.” Dorian didn’t trust his eyesight. Looking at the cat, he could swear those yellow orbs were moist with tears. Dorian’s felt wet again as well.
Dorian, happily caressing his long-lost friend, recalled Addie’s question from a few minutes before. “I came because you called,” he said. “Forty-two years and you’ve never once beckoned me or even conjured me in your bowl.” How that had hurt. “I’ve been waiting a long time for your summons. I was beginning to despair that it would never come.”
“It never would have, for my own sake alone, but your granddaughter needs help, and I couldn’t deny her the presence of anyone who could aid her. My father will also be with us tomorrow, you know.”
“I know.” He dismissed that as inconsequential. To her previous, ridiculous statement, Dorian didn’t know how to respond. He’d waited so long for Addie to come to her senses, to invite his presence, and now it seemed that she was still in denial. He was tired of waiting. Now that she’d called him forth, no matter the reason, his rights were reinstated. He breathed deeply. She was a stubborn woman, but this time he’d win. Best not antagonize her before the battle had even begun.
“Where is our daughter?” he asked instead, going to neutral territory. “The last time I saw her she was a mere slip of a girl. Eight years old.” He contemplated the passing decades with a shake of his head. “She’s a beautiful woman now. She’s shared pictures of herself and Lenore with me online.” As he spoke, Wizarr wound up and around to drape himself across the back of Dorian’s neck.
Addie brightened. “She has my red hair, but your long, lean build. No one would ever guess she’s in her forties. I’m sorry you weren’t able to see her grow.”
Dorian had let his bitterness fade, but couldn’t help a small rebuke. “I had no choice now, did I?” he asked with a slight shake of his head. “But that won’t be a problem with the new generation coming. I see that Lenore is pregnant, and I don’t plan on missing that one.”
“Yes. Due in May. Three months away. It hardly seems possible that I’ll be a great-grandmother.” Her voice became wistful. “And you a great-grandfather.”
“Now you’re making me feel old,” Dorian joked. In actuality, despite looks, he had centuries on Addie, millennium in fact, but he wasn’t going to remind her of that.
She extracted a chiming cell phone from her jacket pocket, and punched a button. “Yes, sweetie. Come on over,” she said into the device before she put it back in her coat. “Angie’s on her way.”
This brought a true smile to Addie’s face, and Dorian witnessed years falling away. He’d have her smiling like this again. He’d break down her damned prideful barriers. He hadn’t come all the way from Wisconsin not to get what he wanted.
Angie burst through the door. “Daddy.” She launched herself across the room as soon as she saw him, and in his mind, she was eight again. He caught her around the waist, and lifted her into the air.
“Angie. My sweet, beautiful girl.” His voice clogged with the tears he’d refused to shed over Addie. Claws caught and released at the back of his neck. “Ow! Oops.” He was glad of the cat’s distraction to clear his throat.
“Sorry, Wizarr, old boy.” The cat had been knocked from his perch to land harmlessly on the kitchen counter. He didn’t look in the least bit cat-pissed. And one always knew when Wizarr was unhappy. The feline actually seemed to be enjoying the reunion.
“Daddy, you’re exactly the same. Exactly.” Angie sparkled up at her him. “I’ve always remembered you as handsome, and I wasn’t mistaken. I’ve missed you so much,” she effused. “How long can you stay?”
“Oh.” He raised an eyebrow and watched closely for Addie May’s reaction. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m here for good.”
Chapter Seventeen
Anna Kensilton stood in the middle of her stark living room and stared at the man on the floor. “What did you say?” she whispered, backing up a step and placing one hand to her throat.
Jake watched the woman carefully. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Ms. Kensilton was about to have a panic attack. Did immortals suffer anxiety?
“You’re immortal,” Jake repeated. “You haven’t aged.”
A strangled sob escaped from her mouth. “I don’t age,” she nodded, looking at Jake in abject confusion. “You’re right, but how could you possibly know that? I’ve been twenty-five for more than fifty years.” Her lower lip trembled.
Jake wondered if it was safe to come to his feet. Deities, when worked up, sometimes experienced strange power surges. “I didn’t know you’d stopped at twenty-five,” Jake admitted. “But now I do.”
“You know why,” she marveled, her eyes going wide. “You said something about being immortal. I don’t know what that means,” she stated, her confusion obvious. “You came to find me because…” Her eyes traveled to the pictures of her children.
“Because Tess, Holly, and Huxley have been trying to locate you,” he supplied quietly. “They wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
“And am I?” A hysterical laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Am I okay?” She skewered Jake with wide, panicked eyes. “Better yet”―panic was getting the better of her―“what am I?” She pounded her chest. “What kind of monster lives forever?”
Jake hadn’t expected this at all. He’d pictured confronting an elderly woman, soothing doubts about past misdeeds, and suggesting a reunion with children. He simply wasn’t prepared for an out-of-control goddess, who didn’t know what she was or how to use and keep her powers leashed.
“Why don’t we sit down, and I’ll tell you everything I know. It’s not as bad as you think.” He raised both hands in a placating manne
r, but she was barely hearing him. “Your children…”
“My children.” Her head turned away from him and her gaze swung to the pictures he’d seen. Jake could tell Anna’s mental gears were turning rapidly. “If my children sent you, it means they’re looking for me for a reason. For answers.” Her eyes shot to his again. “Which can only mean my children aren’t aging, and they want to find out why.”
So far Jake was pretty impressed. She’d gone from panicked to methodically attempting to unravel things. Something, he realized, she’d always had to do for herself.
Anna carried on without waiting for answers. “Tess and Holly turn thirty this year, and Huxley’s twenty-seven. It doesn’t seem fair that they should worry so young. I didn’t figure it out until I was into my late thirties.”
She chewed on a nail.
Just like Tess, Jake realized.
“But at least they have each other.” Her statement was so very sad that Jake’s hard heart cracked a little.
Her eyes began to clear after her diatribe, and she looked a little calmer. “Huh. For the longest time, I just figured I had good genes.” She gave him a crooked smile.
“You do,” Jake assured her, ready now to jump in and fill the blanks for her. “Let’s sit down, and I promise, all of your questions will be answered.”
Anna’s regard turned sharp. “What if I don’t want to know?” She canted her head and narrowed her eyes.
Jake snorted. She couldn’t be serious. “And continue to live like this?” He swept a hand around the room. “Move every six or seven years to make sure nobody finds you or notices that you aren’t aging.” Jake kept his eyes on her, gauging her reaction. “You can’t possibly want to spend the rest of eternity doing this?”
“Eternity,” she repeated. “So it doesn’t end…” He watched her swallow hard before she finally sank down onto the couch. “I was afraid of that.” Anna looked him straight in the eye and turned both wrists over for him to see. He didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at, and gave her a shrug.