The Long Lost

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The Long Lost Page 3

by Patti Larsen


  Sassafras suddenly looked as miserable as I felt. “I’m sorry,” he said, ears flattening sideways, whiskers drooping. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  That was the problem, though. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. We couldn’t reach Dad’s friend, Sassy’s father, either. I’d hoped Sassy could cross the barrier himself to at least contact his father, but no luck. Even combined with my power, we just didn’t have the connection we needed to break through without someone waiting for us on the other side.

  I went to the bed, cradled Sassy in my arms, stroking his fur over and over. “It’s not your fault,” I said. “It’s not anyone’s fault.” Well, okay. It was Demitrius Strong’s fault, but the leader of the Chosen of the Light was most probably dead at the hands of his own people, his physical appearance altered permanently by my demon.

  I set Sassy down and let him curl up on my pillow. This sucked. For now, all I could do was hope my parents could handle it. We’d gotten off easy with the whole explosion thing this time, but I wasn’t so sure the neighbors could ignore it if the house turned into a mass projectile.

  So this problem was out of my hands. But it reminded me I had another to deal with. Alison. And while she hadn’t exactly turned our other friends against me, no one was really talking to me either. Except Pain, that was. But she was so busy working with Gram most of the time while I studied with Mom, I hardly saw her at all.

  I took a long, hot shower, planning what I was going to tell Alison in my head, having whole conversations that either ended so badly I had to leave town or turned into a gushing cry fest. I could only hope the real encounter would be much less dramatic than my imagination stirred up.

  Alison refused to answer her cell phone. I knew she had it on her. She slept with the thing. Neither did she answer the string of texts I sent her. And by string, I mean I sent one after another for a full three minutes with no response whatsoever.

  I wasn’t even going to bother trying Skype. That was it. No more Miss Nice Syd. She was going to hear me out if I had to pin her to the ground and force-feed her my story.

  What was I planning to tell her? The truth. Yeah. I was really looking forward to it.

  ***

  Chapter Five

  I’d never understood my mom’s obsession with her ’66 Mustang. The way she took care of it, had it detailed regularly. I was even pretty sure she’d spelled it to protect the paint and interior from damage. Come on. It was just a car.

  Until she and Dad one happy, sunny morning less than a week ago, handed me a jingling set of keys. Squealing in absolute excitement, I found myself staring down the grill of a brand new Cooper Mini. I didn’t care it was the same car Mom’s best friend Erica drove. Not one little bit. I loved my car immediately with a powerful sense of possession I’d never felt before.

  I refrained from hugging its cute bonnet only out of sheer willpower, sliding behind the leather-covered wheel into the black seats that seemed made for me. It had been the most incredible gift I’d ever received and I vowed as I turned the key for the first time I’d never let anything happen to her ever.

  Her. Yeah. I know.

  The only downside? The color. Mind you, I didn’t for a moment let even a fraction of criticism enter my mind for my Minnie. Yes, she was electric blue and white. Yes, I knew Mom’s favorite color was… you guessed it. Did I mind? Nope. Though I did privately admit to myself my Minnie was pretty flashy.

  I paused on my way out the door to admire her for a moment, gleaming there in the driveway, before hopping in, plugging my iPod into the dock and jacking the tunes. The engine hummed happily as I drove off, forcing my mood to stay cheerful, if only to keep me from losing my mind when I finally came face to face with Alison.

  I found myself looking around as I drove through town, still amazed how quickly things went back to normal. It was almost as if a killer storm hadn’t just threatened the entire town. In fact, when the Sidhe hunt dust settled it turned out there hadn’t been much damage after all.

  Yet another mystery of Wilding Springs I filed away as weird and creepy.

  I sped through town, trying to do the speed limit, but knowing already I had a lead foot. Lucky for me I never seemed to get caught. That would suck. Especially if my ex- boyfriend’s dad was the one to pull me over. Sheriff Peters never fully got over the effect my mom’s power had on his latent talent, or the fact Brad and I weren’t together anymore. I was just as happy, actually. Now that I knew the true face of normal, had been dumped at prom and saw the follower side of Brad’s bully nature, no amount of cute or football hero could make me want him again.

  Which naturally made me think about Quaid. Delicious tall, dark Quaid with his eyes like the best chocolate and his black hair hanging over them, lean body clad in leather as he sat on his motorcycle… I had to jerk my thoughts from him and try to focus on the music or I would have swerved off the road.

  It pissed me off how much I missed him.

  I checked all the local haunts for Alison’s car, but there was no sign of the cherry red convertible. Fine, her house it was. Not my favorite place to visit, but this was Alison. She was worth it.

  I wound my way up her drive to the mansion at the top of the hill, parking directly in front of the big door. I knew I should pull around the back of the house, but I wasn’t in the mood to play nice to appease Angela, Alison’s capricious mother. Besides, it was almost ten in the morning. She’d probably be too drunk already to notice.

  Rosetta answered the door and I admit I felt a bit of a shock. The woman looked terrible, as if she’d aged ten years since I saw her last at the lake house. A member of the Chosen of the Light, the crazy maid always hated me and seeing me now made her actually twitch in horror.

  “I’m here to see Alison.”

  “She’s not home.” Rosetta tried to slam the door in my face, but I held it open easily, her tiny frame no match for me.

  “She’s home.” I reached inside the house with my magic, no harm done, though I was pretty sure Rosetta knew what I was doing. Most of the Chosen had their own powers, betraying their kind to a cult who thought anyone who had magic should either convert to their beliefs or burn at the stake. I felt my friend approaching. “Get out of my way.”

  Rosetta shook her head, refusing to release the door. “Out, foul spirit.” She made a sign to ward against me. It made me laugh, low and menacing, just to spook her further.

  “Good luck with that.”

  The maid didn’t get a chance to respond. Alison appeared over her shoulder. She looked pale and angsty, meeting my eyes with a gaze filled with a mix of sorrow and outrage.

  “Al,” I said. “We have to talk.”

  She hesitated before nodding. “Let her in, Rosetta.”

  The maid turned to protest. As she did, I shoved past her. She flinched back from me as though my touch might harm her.

  Good, let her be afraid. About time someone was scared of me and not the other way around.

  I followed Alison through the vast foyer and to the back of the house. She entered the library, perching carefully on an antique sofa, no longer meeting my eyes. I sighed at the drama and collapsed in a chair across from her.

  “You haven’t answered any of my texts or emails.” It came out like an accusation. Now that I was here, I was pissed. We were friends, weren’t we?

  She shrugged delicately, looking away. Her perfect blonde hair swung over her shoulder, blue eyes catching the sunlight streaming in the room.

  No answer. Really? Was she expecting a personal apology? Well, guess what. That wasn’t about what I planned to deliver. I had a story to tell her and she was going to listen.

  Quietly, with as much dignity as I could wrangle, I told her about the arranged marriage between Quaid and I. Yes, I left out some details, like how his parents were witches who murdered his real family and kidnapped him to use him as a power source. And the fact the only reason our families wanted us to get married was because we’d have real
ly strong kids. But the rest of it? I dumped that on her. How Mom betrayed my trust, that I had no idea when he sat down in our living room that this perfect stranger was meant to be my husband.

  As I spoke, Alison reacted. First with scorn and skepticism, then with shock and growing horror. She clasped her manicured hand to her mouth as I wrapped up, tears standing in her eyes. With a low cry, she came to me and hugged me, sliding into the wide seat beside me.

  “Oh Syd,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

  I shrugged. It went better than I expected. “Sucks, right? Anyway, the whole Brad thing happened and I thought that was what I wanted. But Quaid, he kind of grew on me.” Did he ever. When our power connected it was heat and magic of another kind. “I couldn’t tell you. I was too embarrassed. And I didn’t want you to be mad at Mom.” Alison adored my mother, so that much was true.

  She shook her head, patting my hands as if I were a child and she needed to reassure herself I wasn’t going anywhere. “I’m sure your mother had your best interest at heart.”

  Alison siding with Mom. There was a shocker.

  “Is it still on?” Her eyes were huge, breath bated. “The marriage? And you were dating?”

  I shook my head. “Not exactly. They decided to give us a choice. But none of that matters anymore.” I felt my mood darken further, this time with sadness. Damn him. Damn him for leaving me.

  “Why?” She held my hands now, the contact a desperate thing and I wondered how much damage this caused her. I was only beginning to understand how hurt my friend was from a lifetime of bad parenting.

  “He’s gone.” I actually choked up. “Quaid. He left. To find his family, he said.”

  She shook her head. “Oh no.”

  It felt good to talk to her about it. “Yeah. I don’t know where he is or if he’ll come back.”

  “After telling you he loves you? He just left you like that?” Her outrage was flattering. I hugged her back when she squeezed me again. “He did not.”

  I found myself laughing through a mist of tears. “I missed you, Al.”

  She choked up herself, finally crying for real. “I missed you, too.” This time when she hugged me I felt her shaking. “I’m sorry, Syd. I should have trusted you. I never want to fight again.”

  “Me either.” I pushed her back. “But you were right to be mad. I should have told you before.”

  “No more secrets.” She held out one little. It reminded me of Meira and the promises we made all the time. “Pinky swear.”

  That was a tough one. I wanted to do it, knew she needed it. But it would be a lie, straight up. Could I pinky swear when I knew I’d be lying to her on a regular basis?

  I hooked her finger with mine. “Deal.”

  Alison laughed through her tears. “Deal.” Her eyes flew wide again. “Oh! You haven’t heard, have you?”

  “Heard?” Was I right? Did she tell our mutual friends not to contact me? I saw her blush and knew she had.

  “About Blood.” She bit her lower lip, winding the string of her hoody in her fingers as she did. “He’s moving.”

  Weird Pain didn’t tell me. Though I wondered how much time she spent with her Goth boyfriend now that she had lessons to tend to.

  “His dad got a job somewhere in Europe.” Alison sighed sadly. “I guess this happens all the time.”

  I was surprised at that. I’d thought he was born in Wilding Springs, that I was the only outsider. “When are they leaving?”

  “Soon.” She ducked her head. “A few days.”

  Our little group was breaking up, I guess.

  “I’m planning a going away party.” Alison perked. “We’ll all be able to say goodbye together.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Alison dimpled with a mischievous grin. “Well,” she said, “I’m planning one now.”

  I had to laugh. It was a relief to see her laugh with me. Because even as she did, I could feel the sadness in her, something older and deeper than what I’d caused. Now that my magic and I were getting along, it was easy for me to feel just how unhappy my best friend was.

  I was determined to do something about that.

  ***

  Chapter Six

  Alison hurried off to her room with me in tow. I paused, seeing Rosetta watching us from a doorway, letting my friend go on without me. I approached the maid, my anger simmering, hating the way she looked at me and the fact she was still a part of my friend’s life.

  Rosetta tried to escape, but I caught her arm as she spun to run down the hall. I guided her into the room from where she’d been spying and eased the door closed. The bedroom was lovely but empty, some kind of guest room for a whole football team from the size of it.

  I ignored my surroundings, focusing on the frightened yet defiant maid.

  “Tell me,” I said at my most menacing, “what has happened to the Chosen of the Light?” The last I knew they were busy tearing Demitrius apart. But having some more information on their current activities would be nice.

  Rosetta moaned softly, stricken. “We are no more.” Tears gathered in her large dark eyes, true sorrow making her pathetic. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Maybe if her old boss hadn’t tried to light me on fire I’d be feeling a wee more lenient.

  “Where’s Demitrius?” Who knew, the guy was so slippery maybe he escaped.

  “Gone,” she said in a shuddering voice. “Annick, gone. All of us shattered.” She glared at me as hate won over grief. “It’s all your fault, witch.”

  I felt power stir inside her, not witchcraft, something else. I knew the feel of it. “You’re a sorcerer.”

  She shrugged, wiping at the tears on her face with the back of her free hand, her other arm still in my grasp. “I am.”

  “How could you hate your own kind?” It still blew my mind.

  She hissed and pulled her arm free. “You are nothing like me, unclean one. Just like the horrible filth now living in our beautiful home.” She sobbed once. “Dirty undead in our wonderful house.”

  Hadn’t Sunny said Nicholas took her to the Chosen mansion once? She had to have claimed the house for the Blood Clan DeWinter. Score. The place was a castle, though I didn’t think I could bring myself to live there with the ghost of Demitrius hanging around.

  “Syd?” Alison’s voice reached me through the door, from the hallway. I backed off from Rosetta, jabbing toward her with my index finger.

  “Stay away from my family,” I snarled. “Or else.”

  She trembled, but faced me. “Or else what?”

  “You don’t want to know.” I went to the door and eased it open. Alison was walking down the staircase calling my name. I hurried to the top of the stairs behind her just before she whipped around and saw me. A smile lit her up again.

  “Sorry,” I laughed a little. “I got turned around and, well… this place is huge.”

  She rolled her eyes, hooking my arm with hers, pulling me along. “Silly, this way.”

  I went with her, catching sight of Rosetta, feeling my shoulder blades twitch as it felt like the maid glared a hole in my retreating back.

  I hung out on Alison’s bed playing with her Xbox while she made the arrangements for the party. Her fashion and design questions raised grunts and weak approval from me, more than enough, it seemed, to keep her happy.

  It still rankled our friends believed her over me, but I knew how persuasive Alison could be. After all, before she’d reformed to a nice person she’d held the entire high school in thrall to her evil ways. Took talent.

  She finally threw herself down beside me for a round of racing.

  “How’s your mom?” It was a polite question though I didn’t really care. The woman was horrible to Alison, not to mention told her daughter I’d been inappropriate with a guy when I was at the lake house. I didn’t think much of her or how she treated my bestie.

  “She’s, you know. Mom.” She sighed. “I wish you could meet Dad.”

  Her absentee father live
d in New York most of the time. No wonder with a wife like Angela. I mentally slapped myself for being rude.

  “You’re so lucky.” She hugged my arm after losing badly. I was surprised since she was so hard-core about winning I usually lost just so she wouldn’t sulk. “Having your mom and dad home all the time. That must be awesome.”

  I refused to let her see how much that choked me up. “I should go.”

  She seemed about to protest, but smiled at last, a sad little expression. “Okay.”

  Alison walked me to the door. After squealing over Minnie, admiring my new car, she hugged me. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “You bet.” It was so hard to leave her there. “Call me in the morning.”

  She waved as I drove off, forlorn and lost and I felt like a total jerk for not rescuing her from herself.

  Mom was in the kitchen when I walked in, draped in her favorite apron, “Witch in the Kitch.” She was covered in flour and assorted baking products, but I went to her anyway and hugged her tight.

  Mom didn’t say a thing, just held me while I let the scent of her lilac fragrance remind me I had the best mother ever. “Love you,” I whispered into her hair.

  When I pulled away she led me to the table, seating me before her with my hands in hers. “What happened, honey?”

  I spilled to her about Alison, the fight, how her mother treated her, everything. Mom just sat there, though her expression grew grim as I went on. When I finally ground to a pathetic halt, she hugged me again. I hadn’t been hugged so many times since I was a kid.

  “I worry about her,” Mom said. “I had no idea her mother was so…” She looked away then back to me, determination in her face. “We can’t interfere, not really,” she said, “but there are things I can do to help.”

  “Like?” Was Mom considering using magic on Angela? That would so rock. And be against a whack of rules I couldn’t begin to count.

  “You leave it to me.” Mom smiled. “And I love you too.”

 

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