by Patti Larsen
By the time I was blown out and ironed, my normally boring, wavy brown hair shone like it had lights inside it, curling up and bouncing as if alive. I tossed my head back and forth with a grin.
So that’s why models did that. It felt amazing.
Last order of business was makeup. Dally winked at me before spinning me away from the mirror and pulling out a variety of brushes, pots, mascaras and other instruments.
No turning back now. When she at last spun me toward the mirror again, she and Theesha hovering behind me, I found myself smiling in real delight. I’d looked good for prom. Erica knew her way around a makeup brush. But holy crap. She had nothing on Dally. With the bouncy hair and flawless skin, eyes that leapt out as blue as could be and a hint of pink gloss, I looked like I was ready for a catwalk.
Well, not quite. Even I couldn’t push my imagination that far.
I hugged them both, gave them tips I hoped were big enough, before returning to the front desk in a bit of a daze. I found Alison there, looking her normal stunning self, if a little more refreshed. She squealed over me, clapping her hands like a little kid.
“Syd!” She pounced, hugging me. “You look gorgeous. Love the nail color.”
“Thanks.” I found myself blushing before I turned to the counter. But Alison hooked my arm, waving as she led me out.
“Already taken care of,” she winked. “Mom’s treat.”
I had to laugh at that. “Al?”
“Yes?” She slid her sunglasses on as she slipped into the front seat.
I belted in before I went on. “That was wicked. Thank you.”
She hugged me. “You’re welcome. Now,” she threw the little convertible into gear. “Shall we go spend disgusting amounts of money on clothes and shoes we don’t need?”
For the first time ever, I was looking forward to shopping.
And with good reason. Everything looked good on me. Everything. It was like a little hair and makeup help actually changed my body. By the time we piled out of the mall and back into her car, I was weighted down with bags because her two-seater’s trunk wouldn’t hold any more.
“One more stop.” Alison pulled off the interstate back to town, looking at me over the rim of her sunglasses, an evil smile on her face. “Johnny’s.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t ready to go home anyway. “Why the look?”
She laughed. “Oh, Syd,” she said. “You’re so innocent. You really have no idea.”
“What?”
She shook her head, giggling to herself. “You’ll see.”
Alison pulled up and parked outside of the café. Her top hummed to life, closing over us. I climbed out and locked the door, my cargo safe on her front seat.
She hooked my arm with hers, squeezing me close to her side, almost skipping along, still smiling like she knew something I didn’t and couldn’t wait for me to figure it out.
Before we had a chance to pass through the doors, she pulled up short, one index finger sliding her glasses down her nose. “Well,” she said, a little breathless, “maybe we have something else here that can make you feel better.”
I glanced over to where she stared and found myself doing the same. Two guys crossed the street, heading right for us. A tall red headed woman trailed behind them, her gaze roving everywhere.
Alison may have been staring because the pair were, I admit, stunningly attractive, but that wasn’t my reason at all.
Nope. I stared because of what I felt, not what I saw.
They were both witches.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Alison was practically drooling all over me. That is until her hand slipped free and she took a step aside. The two young men, both about the same height and clearly related, grinned at us as they stopped.
The first looked a bit younger, dirty blonde hair thick and hanging to his shoulders. But even though he was classically handsome with European chiseled features, his gray eyes were empty of warmth.
“Bonjour,” he said in a soft French accent. “Good afternoon, ladies.”
Alison tittered like she’d never heard a guy speak before.
The second of the pair, dark hair cut short, cool green eyes with the same lack of anything kind in them, reached out and took Alison’s hand. He bent over her fingers, brushing his full lips across them while his eyes never left hers. “Mon cher,” he said.
Alison’s cheeks were bright. “Hi,” she breathed. Yup, breathed. Seriously.
My attention flickered to the red head behind them. Standing guard. She met my gaze, arctic blue eyes settling on me for a moment before moving on. I had no idea who she was or of what she was capable, but I was afraid of her.
“Your name, cher?” Meanwhile, the older took his turn kissing my friend’s hand. She’d want to wash that, after.
“Alison,” she said, her voice all airy and girlish. I wanted to smack her.
“Jean Marc,” the dark haired one said with a wink. “My brother, Kristophe.”
She actually half curtsied, like they were special. What the hell?
“A great pleasure, Alison.” Jean Marc made saying her name sound exotic. “My brother and I, we are here for a vacation. With our family.”
It wasn’t until then I felt it—the subtle push of their power—and I understood.
They were working her over with their magic. The only reason I hadn’t felt it immediately was because of my ever-present shields.
No they did not. Not in my town, not to my friend, not ever. And it was a huge violation of the rules. We simply weren’t allowed to influence normals for obvious reasons.
I called up my magic and slapped their minds briskly, not enough to do any harm, but more than enough to get their attention. Jean Marc looked momentarily startled as Alison blinked like she’d been asleep. But Kristophe just smiled at me like it was funny.
It wasn’t. At least now I knew for sure who they were.
The Dumonts had arrived.
“Sydlynn Hayle.” I didn’t offer my hand to either of them and my introduction was as authoritative as I could manage. They bowed their heads to me as one, though neither seemed the least bit remorseful about being caught.
My town, I sent, mind tight, letting them feel a bit of my demon’s anger. My friend. Back off.
Jean Marc went on as if I hadn’t just warned him away. “We are about to try some of your quaint hospitality.” He leaned forward and pulled the door open to the diner. I heard laughter from inside, smelled the familiar scent of hot fudge mixed with deep-fried everything. “Join us?”
Alison would have, I’m sure of it, but I wrapped my hand around her arm and jerked her close. “No,” I said through clenched teeth. “Thanks.”
Jean Marc shrugged elegantly. “I’m sure we’ll find more interesting partners inside.” He left me there, fuming, while Kristophe smiled at me, pale gray eyes weighing me until he spun and went inside after his brother. I waited until their red headed escort followed, ignoring me this time, before I let Alison go.
She glared at me like I’d ruined everything. “What is wrong with you?”
I had no way of warning her, naturally. “I just have a bad feeling, okay?” Lame.
Alison rubbed at her arm where I’d held her. “You just had to say so.”
“Sorry.”
“I thought they were cute.” She sighed. “And now you’ve gone and ruined your grand entrance.”
“What?” Grand… what?
“I wanted to piss them off,” Alison giggled. “You know, Page and the cheerbitches.”
“How?” I couldn’t care less about the former fallen angel turned cheer pack leader who had a serious hate on for everything Syd. She could suck it.
Alison smacked my arm. “By showing you off, silly.” She shook her head. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.” It came out all wistful, like she was jealous or something.
Um, hello. Had she checked the mirror lately?
“Sorry to kill your plans,” I sa
id.
She shrugged. “Nothing to do about it now.” Alison glanced through the glass. “With those two showing up, all my effort would be wasted.” She smiled a little as if to take away the sting. “No one would be looking at you anymore.”
“Thanks.” She was right, though. But I doubted just because the brothers were attractive. I didn’t put it past them to keep using their little mind games on the normals of Wilding Springs.
Until I caught them at it again. Without witnesses.
I had Alison drive me home, lugging my purchases to the front door after telling her yet again to stay away from Jean Marc and Kristophe. She waved, smiled, drove off as I sighed and knew she was never the kind to listen to advice.
Alison’s issues could be a problem for another time. Right now, I had to have a long talk with my mother.
***
Chapter Fifteen
I knew I was in for more than I’d planned the moment I passed through the house wards and into the kitchen. There were strangers here, the feel of them clear to me now they weren’t masked by the protections wrapping our house in magic.
It took me a moment to decide what to do. I heard voices talking, coming from the living room and was pretty sure Mom felt me the moment I arrived home. I tried to keep the rustling of my shopping bags to a minimum as I stuffed them into the corner behind the table, not sure why the sounds I made caused me to flinch and wince. It was as if I was intruding in my own home or didn’t want to be noticed all of a sudden.
The little girl in me wished she was anywhere but there just then.
Mom needed me, I was sure of it. She didn’t reach for me or influence me with magic, but I could sense her now that my power was united, and always seemed to know what she was feeling in a peripheral sort of way. I shook off my nerves. This was my house, our coven’s house. No matter who these strangers were, and I was pretty sure I knew their family name if not their individual identities, there was no way I was showing them my soft, weak underbelly.
I was a Hayle witch, damn it. Time to show it to the world.
My magic wrapped around me in a coil of mixed power, demon feeding witchcraft feeding Sidhe as I strode down the hallway and into the living room.
Mom’s eyes lifted, met mine, but only for a moment. She seemed a little startled before approval lit her gaze. I let my eyes drift around the room, pulling off my best calm and slightly arrogant expression, hoping it was working.
Because from the look of our visitors, it would take a lot to impress them.
There were a handful of strangers mixed with family, and I took their measure while adjusting to the weight of tension hanging over everything. Whatever this was, it was no social call. It was almost hard to breathe the air was so thick with unspoken suspense. Ever the coven leader, Mom didn’t show it a bit, only nodding to me with a small smile of welcome.
“My daughter, Sydlynn,” she said. “Sweetheart, I’d like you to meet the representatives of the Dumont coven.”
Bingo. I was right. The two witches and their odd bodyguard at Johnny’s were Dumonts as well.
“Ah, Sydlynn.” My gaze riveted on the old woman who sat in the center of the sofa, her words tinted with that same soft French accent. “What a distinct pleasure, my dear. We’ve heard so very much about you, I’ve been looking forward to it.”
Her blue eyes were brilliantly clear and reminded me of someone. But who?
“Ms. Dumont,” I said.
I could feel Mom’s approval at my tone and attitude. Not rude, nope. Just… proud. I shook on the inside while my demon purred her delight. Even Shaylee seemed to approve.
The old woman’s smile slipped just a little, eyes tightening around the edges. She was smoothed faced for one so old, her age written in every other part of her. I wondered if she used magic to keep herself looking young. Because there was nothing youthful about neither her power nor the sense of her spirit. It crackled around the edges, not worn smooth like Gram’s. And despite her attempt to seem kind and interested, a thread of pure venom ran through her. Even if Mom and Gram hadn’t warned me, I’d never have trusted this woman for a moment.
It made me wonder what was wrong with Quaid that he didn’t sense it. Speak of the devil, he stood to the right, next to a girl about our age. My eyes skimmed him, refused to settle on her, instead finding a pair of ice green eyes watching me with cold, flat precision. The owner of those eyes also stood, directly behind a tall, broad blonde man. Another bodyguard, I assumed, and this one with the same odd feel as the woman with the brothers.
“My son,” Odette said, gesturing beside her at the blonde. “Andre.”
Handsome, with the same European aristocratic features as Jean Marc and Kristophe. But he too had a ruthless feeling about him, like a predator searching for his next meal. I’d always thought Dominic Moromond felt greasy, but this guy won that competition hands down.
“Charming,” he said with a smile. At least he didn’t call me mon cher. I’d have hurt him, I swear it.
I wanted to wash my eyeballs. Gross.
Just to escape his gaze, I lifted mine to the man behind him again. He shifted ever so slightly, tall, compact body at ease. And yet, he had a deadliness about him, from his shaved head to the tiny goatee darkening his chin.
“Our head of security, Raoul Moreau.” Andre’s smile didn’t change.
“You need security?” That escaped me before I could stop myself. The dryness in my voice made me worry until Mom’s mind wrapped around me and hugged me with glee.
Finally I was doing something right. Wicked.
“You know our darling Quaid, of course.” Odette watched me closely. Why? Was she hoping for a reaction? I tightened my shields even further, grateful for all the years I’d perfected at least that technique and simply nodded to him.
Quaid wouldn’t meet my eyes. The coward.
“And this is Ameline Benoit,” Odette said, meaning I was finally forced to look at the girl who stood so very close to Quaid. My heart begged me to walk out of the room, telling me this introduction would only end badly. But I stood my ground and kept my poise while Odette finished her introduction. “Quaid’s hand fasted.”
It hurt less than I expected, because I was expecting it and because I was studying her when the old witch spoke. Pale porcelain perfection? Check. Flawless black hair with a charming fringe? Check. Elegant name? Double check.
I hated her immediately. And in that moment as I stood there, her blue eyes that matched Odette’s studying me with equal calm and detachment as I hoped I portrayed, I was grateful to Alison for the morning primp session. At least I looked okay.
Enough with the pleasantries. I felt my outrage at the entire situation rise, noticed then Mom wasn’t alone. I opened to the rest of the room. Dad stood close by with Erica and Celeste seated in the last two chairs. I opened my focus, drew my family to me and decided I’d had enough of the fake pleasantries.
Time to put the screws to my new enemies.
“I believe I’ve met a couple of your coven members,” I said, linking with Mom to make sure I had her approval. I’ve never felt that much pride from her before. It would have blown everything if I’d let the grin I knew was coming escape so I suppressed it. “Jean Marc and Kristophe?”
Odette nodded while Andre spoke up. “Ah, yes. My sons. They are charmed by your little town and wanted to explore.”
“They were doing more than explore.” I put all of my irritation into my tone. “They were leaning on mortals.”
No one said anything for a moment as the blanket of tension in the room wrapped tighter around us. When Andre laughed, I felt my anger rise.
“Boys will be boys, won’t they?” He studied me, eyes frigid while his mouth remained twisted in humor. “I can’t imagine they were harming anyone.”
“Not the point.” I wanted to scream at him, amazed my voice stayed level and in total control. Mom had taught me a few things, it seemed. A sense of absolute protectiveness for Wilding Sprin
gs and its inhabitants seized me suddenly. “It’s against coven law to coerce normals with magic.”
“Normals,” Andre snorted. I hated being prodded, but this was clearly some kind of test. “They should be grateful we let them live their sorry little lives. Even more so when we bless them with our attention. I’m sure the boys were simply having a little fun and meant nothing by it.”
It was clear to me he was jerking my chain, looking for something to accuse me of so he would have reason to call me out. As tempting as it was, Mom’s gentle warning, sent through our connection, told me to back off a bit.
Not that it was in her plan to let it go, mind you.
“My daughter is correct,” she said, and I understood. Time for the coven leader to crack the whip. I grinned on the inside. I loved seeing my mom slice the legs out from under those who deserved it. “You are in my territory and no matter your usual rules, I expect your family to obey our coven laws for the duration of your stay.”
Andre looked like he was about to argue. I saw the spark in his eyes, his growing anger, but Odette laid a subtle hand on his knee, smiling with apology, the expression twisting her lips until they appeared clownish.
“Of course,” she said. “Forgive them, Miriam. They are only boys. But I will speak to them the moment I see them. It will not happen again.”
Andre settled, a sullen frown just reaching his mouth. So sonny boy had a hard time controlling his temper? Good to know.
Someone shifted to my left and I let my eyes land on Quaid. He was scowling at me, finally meeting my gaze, dark eyes angry.
Screw him. He could be as pissed as he wanted. He’d left me for her—them. That meant he sided with them and was no longer worthy of my attention.
The doorbell rang. I didn’t move as Dad got up, eyes meeting mine on the way by. He looked worried, hand settling on my shoulder as he passed. The room was totally quiet when he was gone, as though his departure signaled a pause in existence.