by Patti Larsen
Enforcer
Book Eighteen of the Hayle Coven Novels
Patti Larsen
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2013 by Patti Larsen
Find out more about Patti Larsen at
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Cover art (copyright) by Valerie Bellamy. All rights reserved.
http://www.dog-earbookdesign.com
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Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/
Copy edits and proofing by Jennifer Wingard. You can find her at
www.theindependentpen.com
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Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Chapter One
I lifted the tea cup to my lips in an effort to hide my fake smile was morphing into a grimace of anguish.
Huan Wong, the Santos Council member, sat across from me, her round cheeks flushed as she fixed her narrow eyes on my empty left hand.
Considering the fact it was August and my twenty-first birthday had come and gone months ago, I knew the absence of a wedding band was the main reason for this little visit from the High Council.
That’s right. The entire High Council of North American Witches sat in my living room, sipping tea from Mom’s china while I ground my teeth together in an effort to keep from kicking the lot of them out of my house.
It’s not like I didn't expect this visit. Mom warned me long before now I’d have a price to pay for ducking my head and barreling through my birthday at Beltane, June, July and now part of August in clear rebellion of Council law. I was supposed to be married by now.
Grumble, mumble.
Freakout.
“Not to put it indelicately, Sydlynn,” Willa Rhodes said, clearing her throat as her cup tinkled on her saucer, a drip of tea washing over the edge to stain the flat of the white plate. “But you have put your coven in a terrible position.” The old witch’s face scrunched in an apologetic, apple smile.
The Council members all nodded while Mom held her peace, calmly nibbling one of the little sandwich Shenka hastily prepared for our unexpected guests.
Thank goodness for my second and her fast-on-her-feet abilities. I’d have stared stupidly at them in the kitchen doorway when they arrived in a flurry of blue fire, probably slammed the door in their faces.
If it hadn’t been for Shenka. She took the entire thing in hand, guiding the Council into the living room while I struggled with the need to run as far and as fast as I possibly could in another direction—any direction. She seated me graciously, her smooth and together manner calming me enough I didn’t bolt for the hills.
All while wrangling the nitty gritty details as my temper simmered under the gathered Council members’ stares.
The offer of tea and snacks seemed to have diffused some of their agitation, but it was clear I wasn’t getting out of this with a little hot double double and a handful of crustless munchables.
And yet, Mom’s relaxed state gave me more confidence than perhaps I should have felt. I learned a long time ago to follow her lead. And since I had my real mother back, free of the influence of the Brotherhood, I could trust that lead more now than ever.
“I’ve studied the law,” I said, grateful Shenka suggested it about the time true panic set in. Two weeks before the big birthday. So powerful and all-consuming I almost ran to Demonicon to hide from the inevitability of wedding bells.
Funny how running came up so frequently when I thought about committing to this particular responsibility. I wasn’t typically the type to flee from problems.
But this particular problem was all kinds of different.
How was I supposed to choose? Liam and I were still a little distant, all my fault. I had, as of yet, to commit to the love he professed, freaked out to no end by the thought of making the wrong choice. And though the handsome and charming Piers Southway pressed his case on a regular basis, I didn’t love the Steam Union sorcerer. And wasn’t sure he’d be a good fit for the coven anyway.
Excuses. Enough I talked myself into a frenzy of flight, only to be pinned down by my faithful second who shoved a copy of coven law under my quivering nose and offered a solution.
Temporary, yes. But a solution nonetheless.
Erica Plower’s eyes widened as she set her cup aside, glancing sideways at Mom. The former second of my coven, now my representative on Council, wasn’t exactly on my side. “The law is clear, Syd,” she said, blonde hair, once a cute bob, now grown out to rival my mother’s long, black locks. “And you’ve broken it. We’ve pushed our willingness to accept a little leeway, but with the approach of conclave…” She sat back as the others—minus Mom—murmured their agreement.
So that’s what this was about. They’re worried about saving face? I sent the tight mental question to Mom.
Witches are always worried about appearances, she sent with a heavy dose of laughter in her voice.
Nice to see someone found my imminent doom amusing.
Just tell them what you discovered, Mom sent. I’ll do my best to back you up. But don’t hold your breath.
Shenka refilled my cup with steady hands, her pleasant smile far more natural than it should have been. Her dark eyes met mine, her calm as comforting as Mom’s.
Breathe, Syd. Just breathe. “According to law,” I said, “I have until my twenty-first birthday to marry if I want to remain coven leader. Correct?”
The assembled ladies nodded, murmuring their agreement.
“Actually,” I said, stomach quivering with butterflies as I delivered the punchline, “that’s not quite accurate.” Shenka lifted the scroll of law from the end table and handed it to me like a illusionist’s perky showgirl, all prepped and smiling.
My lovely assistant.
I unrolled the scroll to the place she’d marked for me, speaking out loud while I read, the words rising to etch in blue fire in the air.
“‘And it shall be that all Coven Leaders wed well and true, in the year of their twenty first.”
The words burned over my left shoulder, solid, unwavering.
“Yes,” Huan said. “Precisely.”
“No,” I said. “I think you missed it.” I pushed my power against the hovering script. “In the year of” popped out, bigger and brighter. “According to this, I still have nine months to find a suitable partner and wed.”
Phew. I already felt lighter now I’d said it out loud.
Willa frowned, head tilted as she stared at the floating words, but Huan spluttered out some tea.
“You are purposely misconstruing the letter of the law,” she said.
“No,” I said, tossing the scroll into her lap. “I’m following it. To the word.” Clearly no one ever contested it. I guess I was the only person who actually thought it was nuts to make me marry at such a young age.
Witches were crazypants.
Mom’s mind hugged mine. You made your point, she sent. Let me handle this.
Go for it.
“An interesting interpretation,” Mom said.
“You would think so,” Huan bit at her, bitterness heavy in her voice.
Mom’s blue eyes pierced the Santos Council member, her faint smile gone in a flash, face now cold and bla
nk. “Are you accusing me of something, Council Member Santos?”
Huan backed down immediately, head bowing. “Not at all, Council Leader,” she said, though her hands twitched around the scroll like she wanted to whack me with it.
“I’m afraid I have to side with Sydlynn on this one,” Willa said. I felt my stomach loosen, the knot releasing. Willa and her sister, Coven Leader Violet Rhodes, were both sticklers for the law. “I have to confess, I’ve never read this particular passage myself. But it appears, as Sydlynn states, we’ve been misinterpreting it for centuries.”
Holy. Did I just win?
From the angry looks on the Council member’s faces, Willa’s opinion wasn’t appreciated.
“Coven Leader Hayle has done more for this Council and all witches than any other in her few short years,” Mom said. “For that reason, we have allowed her leeway in her marriage choice and timing.”
Whoa. Choice? Were they planning on saddling me with someone they picked or something?
My demon snarled, Shaylee’s power rumbling far beneath the house even as my vampire hissed in outrage. The family magic swirled in protest, though I did my best to hide my unhappiness from the Council.
We’d see how long their little Prince Charming lasted.
Mom went on, her mind chuckling in mine. Because she clearly knew where my thoughts were.
“For now, I agree with her assessment of the law as well, bending to the input of Council Member Rhodes.” Instant protest, though Willa nodded to Mom. My mother held up one hand as I scowled at Erica for being a traitor. So much for old family ties. “However, I understand the importance of Coven Leader Hayle’s marriage.” I’m sorry, sweetheart, Mom sent. But it really is important. “While I know many of you would prefer she married before conclave, it is obvious, the very event now only a day away, she won’t be wed by then.”
They scowled at me as a group. What, were they going to drop off some guy, zippity do da me down the aisle and present me, officially hitched, to the rest of the World Councils?
So not going to happen in my lifetime.
“The very fact one of our most powerful coven leaders”—one of? Seriously—“blatantly flaunts the fact she thinks herself outside the law makes our position on the international stage all the more precarious.” Huan’s lips pinched into a straight line, her straight, black hair swinging as she shook her head. “And while I’m as grateful to her as anyone”—sure she was—“this kind of defiance is unconscionable.”
“I seem to recall,” I shot back, “I was granted carte blanche by this very Council.”
That shut them up.
But Mom sighed, shattering my little advantage.
“While we have granted you the freedom to act in our best interest,” she said, “your marriage isn’t included in that agreement, Coven Leader Hayle.”
She just had to hack the floor out from under me, didn’t she?
Huan lurched to her feet, face set in a mask of anger. “I, for one, am embarrassed at this state of affairs,” she said. Turned on Mom. “And I insist the Council act on the problem before it becomes a larger issue.” She returned her gaze to me. “I would hate to see you forced to step down as coven leader of the Hayle family.”
Such. A. Liar. She was in bed far enough with the Dumonts I was sure she’d be happy to see me fall. Her old allegiance with Odette, the now deceased leader of that hated family, couldn’t have ended with the matriarch’s fall. In fact, I had no doubt the Santos coven was still heavily invested with the Dumonts, especially now Odette’s son, Andre, served as coven leader.
“I’m certain Sydlynn will make the proper choice,” Mom said, rising to her feet with a gracious nod to Shenka and me. “And in time to fulfill the letter of our law.”
The others rose, nodded to me, Shenka leading them out. I stayed where I was, swiping in irritation at the still floating letters hanging beside me, popping each word like a bubble while blue sparks fell to the floor.
Damn it.
Just damn it.
Mom sat next to me as the sounds of Shenka saying goodbye echoed from the kitchen. Her hands reached for mine, her power hugging me.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I hate to put you in this position.”
“You too, sweetheart,” Mom said. “This excuse of yours will only last so long. I doubt they will allow you to go the full year. It’s been a battle to make it this far.”
“Thanks for backing me up.” I sagged against the puffy armrest of the sofa, feeling defeated. “I just have no idea what I’m going to do.”
A fat, silver body landed in my lap as Sassafras, my demon Persian, settled himself against me, amber eyes on fire.
“Interesting conversation,” he said. Eavesdropper. “Do you have to be so stubborn or are you enjoying yourself?”
Smartass cat. “Okay then,” I said to him. “Who would you pick if you were me?”
He sniffed, swiping one paw over his nose. “I’m not you,” he said.
Argh.
“See,” I turned to Mom as Shenka sat across from us, “this is the help I get.”
“No one can make this decision for you,” Mom said. Paused. Bit her lower lip. “Have you spoken to Quaid?”
Oh. My. Swearword. She did so not bring him up just now.
“No,” I snarled through my aching jaw.
We were meant for each other. If he hadn’t chosen a life with the Enforcers, cutting off any chance we had to be together, he would be my first and only choice.
But no. Quaid was out.
And I couldn’t bear to pick someone else.
I hated how weak this made me feel.
“Stop being so picky.” I spun at the sound of Gram’s voice, staring as she scowled at me from the entry to the living room. But not my familiar Gram, not the powerful woman full of vigor and snark. This old lady with the withered skin and fluffy white hair looked petulant, reduced. Felt that way, too, magically at least. And had since Ameline Benoit stole her power a year ago.
Power I promised Gram I’d retrieve for her. Except I couldn’t, could I? Not while I needed Ameline and her dark maji self to defeat the Brotherhood.
Guilt.
“Gram,” I said. “You were the one who told me how important this was—”
She swatted the air in front of her, frowned so deep her brows almost touched in the center of her forehead.
“Get on with it,” she grumped. “Hurry the hell up and pick one already.” She turned, shuffled a step. “They’re all the same anyway.”
I watched her go, heart aching, wishing I had my Gram back. When I returned my attention to the others, they all watched me, expectant.
And the pressure of their expectation was way too heavy for me to bear.
“I’ll pick,” I said, standing, dumping Sassafras on Mom. “But I won’t be pushed into it.”
I know it wasn’t fair to be angry with my mother, my cat, my best friend.
Or myself.
But life wasn’t fair sometimes.
***
Chapter Two
I retreated to my room, my favorite refuge since I was a girl. Different geography, maybe, but the idea was the same. Escape from the family, from responsibility, if only for a little while.
Sassafras wasn't interested in giving me space, it turned out. As I tried to close the door behind me, he slipped through the gap, sauntering his fat cat body to the bed before leaping onto the quilt. I sighed inwardly, expecting a lecture as I crossed the room and glared at him where he perched, watching me with those judging amber eyes.
“You're being ridiculous,” he said. “The law is the law. And it's not like you don't have choices.”
“So, you're telling me I should just get married and oh well if I make the wrong selection. Is that it?” I prodded him with magic, stomach churning.
Sass's tail thrashed once, but when he spoke again his tone was lighter. “I know you're worried,” he said. “There was a time you put yourself first. But th
ese days, like the great leader I always knew you would be, you put the coven ahead of your own heart.” I sagged a little as he went on. “Syd, we only want you to be happy. And if that means choosing someone you love, but who might not be the best choice for the family, then do it.” He reached out with one paw, swiping the air before letting it fall. “I've watched so many Hayle witches struggle with just this issue over the years, wished I could help them more than I did when it came to these things.” His ears drooped sideways, whiskers quivering. “But you are the only one I really don't worry about. Whoever you decide to marry, he will be right for you.” Another twitch of his silver tail. “And the coven can suck it up.”
I sank to the edge of the bed and kissed the top of his furry head, loving how soft it was. He leaned in, purring so loudly I felt myself vibrating from it.
“Thanks, Sass,” I said. Swallowed the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. “I guess I've just been worried about everything, it's making me crazy.”
He head-butted me. “Our fault,” he said. “We put too much pressure on you.”
I leaned back to stroke his fur as he continued his rumble. “It took me a long time to understand how important the family is,” I said. “And while I know my choice isn't life or death, I just can't bring myself to...”
“Let go of Quaid.” Sassafras's voice dropped to a whisper as he licked my fingers in sympathy.
A small sob escaped me, both hands rising to cover my mouth, to keep in the sadness pushing on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I managed a nod, finally admitting the truth to him.
To myself.
How could I possibly marry anyone but Quaid? The power inside me swelled, yearned for him. The connection to him remained, thanks to the family magic, a constant reminder of who I needed, loved, had to have.
Couldn't.
I fell on my side, tears leaking onto the quilt as Sassafras curled up against me, whiskers tickling my cheek as his pink nose came within an inch of mine.
“I love you,” he said. “And I'm sorry this is so hard for you. But it might be time to finally let him go.”