by Patti Larsen
I shivered, nodded. “You’re right,” I choked out. “I just don't know how.”
Sassafras sighed deeply, entire body rising and falling with it. “When Thaddea first rescued me, I loved her so much, Syd.” A hit of shock broke through my own melancholy as Sass spoke. He never talked about his past. “It was the first time I really knew what love meant, the first time I thought of someone else before myself.”
I hardly breathed as he went on, flickers of images passing between us as he showed me a gorgeous young woman in Victorian dress, her long, red hair in an elaborate updo, lifting him from a dirty puddle, his Persian body broken and filthy.
“She saved my life,” he said, his own voice now thick with emotion. “But more than that, she saved my soul.” He paused, eyelids closing slowly over his burning yellow gaze before he went on. “I thought we would be together forever.” Another image, this time of him happy, clean, Thaddea laughing. It was so odd to see my ancestor as a young woman, no older than me, to think of her, not as my history, but as a real, breathing person who Sassafras knew and loved. “But we weren't meant for such a fate,” he said.
A new image appeared, this one of a tall, broad shouldered man, a kind smile on his handsome face.
“I hated Orin,” Sass said. “Because I knew, the moment they met, their magic connected. They were born for each other.”
I shivered. “I feel that way about Quaid.”
Sassafras nodded slowly. “I know,” he said. “There are times when certain witches meet and their power combines in a way which cannot be denied.” He nudged my nose with his. “I watched it happen to Thad. To Auburdeen with Gabriel. And with you and Quaid.”
“So we have to be together.” Was that relief, Syd, coursing through your veins suddenly?
Sass didn't respond right away, but when he did, I felt my newborn hope die.
“You should be,” he said. Snorted softly. “And I'm afraid you will both be miserable if you don't. But he is as stubborn as you are,” his amber eyes flashed fire, “and I have no doubt has the determination to do what he wants regardless of how he feels for you.”
“So I'm doomed,” I said, trying to keep my voice light though fresh tears found paths to the damp quilt. “Thanks, Sass.”
He shuddered, fur fluffing out. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I didn't tell you this story to make you unhappy.” He shifted position until his full body was pressed to me, head tucked under my chin. “But I want you to understand why you're resisting making a choice. And that you will be forced to fight how you feel for Quaid for the rest of your life.”
Considering how long my life was supposed to last, thanks to my immortality…
Just. Freaking. Lovely.
But it did put things into perspective. “Is there a way to break the connection?” I thought of my werefriend, Charlotte, now princess of the werewolf nation. She and I had been bonded, a connection which shattered when she'd almost died. Then again, by choice, last winter when I freed her and her people from the sorcerers.
Sassafras shrugged. “I don't know,” he said. “But I doubt it. All the research I've done indicates it only ends with the death of one or the other, and even then a gaping hole remains.”
Wow, he was really making me feel better.
“I think about Gram,” I said, breathing in Sass's fur, “about Grandfather Ivan. Mom and Dad. And I wonder if love is really worth it.” My arms tightened around my demon cat. “And there's my immortality.” Should the law even apply to someone like me? “Whoever I marry will grow old and die, Sass. And I'll be alone.”
My egos stirred, comforting and soothing, but I had to talk about it.
“That's true,” Sass said. “There are very few races you could choose from who could even hope to match you.”
Demon. Sidhe. Vampire.
“Have you talked to Liam about this?” Sassafras lifted his chin, one paw on my cheek.
Sigh. “He just wanders around all heartbroken one minute, determined to win me over the next.” I rolled my eyes. “It's driving me nuts. Besides,” I poked his tummy, “I thought he was the wrong one for me. You and Gram both said so.”
Sassafras's ears twitched. “I know,” he said. “And yet, perhaps I was wrong. Liam O'Dane is a lovely young man, Syd. Not strong enough for you, no. And he never will be. But he loves you and will treat you and our coven with respect. That may be enough.”
Was it?
“As for young Piers Southway,” Sass said. “I know you don't feel about him the way you do Liam, but he is a power to be reckoned with. And marrying a sorcerer of the Steam Union can have political advantages.”
My brows came together in a frown before I could stop them.
“I don't want to marry for politics,” I said. Paused and thought about it as I forced my temper to back off. “Then again,” I said, “since I can't have the love I want, maybe politics is the best choice.”
Sass's warm body wriggled closer as he closed his eyes and let his purr rise in volume.
“You must choose,” he said. “No more thinking.”
Thinking was all I'd been doing.
“If you were to toss a coin,” he said, “with Liam being heads and Piers tails, who would you wish for as the coin rose?”
Smartass cat.
“You're forgetting Sebastian.” I still felt terrible my vampire friend, the former leader of the Blood Clan DeWinter, remained trapped and suffering at the hand of Celeste Oberman. The desire to rush to the vampire mansion and murder the traitor and spy was so powerful I knew it was a delay tactic. My brain didn't want to make a decision and happily created a scenario to save me from thinking further.
Sassafras's paws kneaded against my chest. “Unless you can find a way for the undead to father children,” he said, “I'm thinking he's not an option.”
Sigh.
“I'll decide,” I said, feeling my eyes pulling closed, the strain of so much emotion driving me toward sleep. “I promise.”
Sass's purr lulled me into quiet as he softly chuckled.
“Of course you will,” he said.
***
Liam pulls against my left arm, his dear face twisted in need.
“I love you,” he wails. “Why don’t you love me back!”
Someone grasps my right arm, jerking me away from Liam. “Marry me,” Piers leers, long, blonde hair hanging over his shoulder as his gray eyes burn holes through me. “We’re the perfect combination of power. You’ll never miss love.”
I lurch from both of them, stumbling from a castle hallway and into a garden, surrounded by flowers and the scent of lilacs.
“You have to choose.” Mom's desperation gives me goosebumps.
“You have to choose.” Shenka's hands try to pull me to her, but I spin and run.
“You have to choose.” Sassafras's claws catch me, pull me back. I stagger to my knees, look up as the High Council surrounds me, ranks of witches, faces I know, those I don't, crowding close, pushing against me. I huddle in fear and heartbreak as they loom over me.
“Choose,” they chant. “Choose. Choose. Choose—”
***
I jerked awake, shuddering from the afterimage of the dream, disoriented and crying all over again.
A groan escaped me as I pushed myself up from the bed, still fully dressed, the dark of the room and the rumbling of my stomach telling me it was long past dinner.
Sassafras had left me to sleep, though I desperately wished he was here with me now. The dream was a clear response to the stress I felt. Sadly, this wasn't the first time I'd had this dream or one like it.
I shivered and hugged myself as I stood there in the black and tried to pull myself together. Clearly, Sassafras was right. I had to find a way to move past the need I had to hold onto Quaid. I didn't want to believe he was the real reason I struggled so hard. But it became crystal clear to me now where my panic came from, what spring the palpitations of my heart drank deeply of.
Quaid.
Th
rough pain and hurt and heartache. In love and excitement and more joy than I’d ever felt in my life. Past trouble, disaster, risk of death.
Always Quaid.
So how exactly was I going to shed this impossible need I had for him? Maybe I could do some research. Dive into the Sidhe archive in the Gate cavern. Every book that ever existed resided there and I was sure, if it meant breaking this hold Quaid and I had over each other, Liam would be more than happy to help.
But even as I imagined opening a large, dusty tome, reading the words providing the relief I needed, I shunted the thought aside. And that, I knew, was my downfall.
I didn’t want to let him go.
A deep breath of frustration and longing turned into a meep of fear as something rattled against my window, shattering my private misery. Since the family wards didn't respond, fear left in a rush of anger.
My temper came willingly, happy to smother heartache, my favorite answer to everything. Instinct took over, forcing me across the room to the curtain. I whipped it back, jerking on the sash as my temper lit inside me. Probably some local kids throwing rocks at the house.
I'd thrash their little behinds.
The moment the window was open, though, I realized my mistake. And fell back with a cry of fear as power surged at the gap before rushing through the wards and into my room.
***
Chapter Three
I stumbled back, gathering my maji power even as the egos inside me paused.
And recognition dawned.
The swirling mass of magic separated into ribbons of color, amber and blue twining with red and green and white. A final zigzag of black crossed the lot as the glow from their energy lit the room in a rainbow of power.
I knew these scraps of elemental magic, had freed them myself from the crystals the Brotherhood used to trap the Dumont family magic. Each of these wild fragments escaped the clutches of Belaisle and his evil group.
Demetrius Strong had been happy they were free. The crazy, former Steam Union sorcerer and one time leader of the Chosen of the Light believed as I did--the Brotherhood lost a power source when I shattered the crystals holding the slivers of wild magicks in thrall.
But I hadn't seen them or thought to ever again once they fled captivity that night. I stood there, mouth hanging open and unable to react as they swirled around me like giddy children, their energy light and full of joy at seeing me again. At least, that was the impression they gave me as they stroked my skin on the way by in their happy, acrobatic dance of enthusiasm.
Amazing and beautiful as they explored first me, then my room, burrowing under my quilt, poking into my closet before alighting in various places like contented butterflies.
But what did they want?
The moment the thought crossed my mind, they leaped into action again, increasing their speed, now agitated. Love poured over me, loyalty and adoration. But a dark warning lay within them, trying to reach me.
So I reached back. Felt my individual egos connect with them. And shuddered as darkness enveloped me. The feeling of travel through emptiness. Then light, a laboratory of some kind. The remnants of the machine in which they'd been trapped.
Were they showing me their old fear or a new one?
Belaisle's face appeared, his arrogance, the nasty little goatee on his chin. So this was a reminder?
“Yes,” I said to them as they came together again into a ball of swirling light. “I remember.”
Another push of power and the vision changed. I fell into a mirror, surface rippling like a pond.
A flash of light.
Nothing.
I gasped a breath as they released me, sinking back to sit on the bed, their fear now mine.
“But what does it mean?” I reached for them again.
I felt someone cross the family wards at that moment, the familiar touch of the Hensley coven’s power an instant distraction.
The cloud of wild magic sighed in frustration, spun in a vortex and zipped away even as I tried to pull them back, heading for the window.
I almost fell out as I lunged after them, watching as they flared in the night and vanished.
At a loss, still muddling over the message—if there was a message—I moved before I realized I opened the door, my feet padding softly down the stairs to the kitchen to find out why Tallah was here.
Found her whispering with Shenka in my kitchen. The pair looked up, Tallah a little angry, Shenka with guilt, my second jerking free of the hold her older sister and former leader had on her arm.
“Syd,” Tallah said. She’d been cold with me ever since Shenka chose to leave her and join me. Not my problem. Though I hoped the young coven leader would get over her snit eventually. I really did like her and wished things could be different.
Still, seeing Shenka rub the place where Tallah held her, the confused flicker passing over the younger Hensley face, my temper returned before I could stop it.
“Can I help you with something?” It was after midnight, only 8pm in California, the home of Tallah’s coven. So it was a natural mistake to come here and forget time zone issues were in play. I did it all the time. Still, from the frown on Tallah’s face, her uncertainty, I figured she knew exactly when she’d be arriving.
And hoped to talk to her sister without me finding out about it.
Now, fair enough. If Tallah had a private conversation with Shenka, her family by blood, who was I to interfere? Except when my second met my eyes, it was pretty obvious whatever Tallah was here to discuss had nothing to do with personal matters and everything to do with the coven.
My coven.
Hell no.
Tallah shrugged and stepped away from Shenka, her dark hair in a tight, shiny ponytail, deep-toned skin flushing red at the peaks of her cheekbones. “I’m here for Sashenka,” she said. Paused. “That came out wrong.”
Did it ever. “I assumed you didn’t intend to kidnap my second,” I said, keeping my voice light, even as Tallah’s brows came together in a quick frown. Time for her to get it through her stubborn skull Shenka was mine.
Until she decided she didn’t want to be. But it would be Shenka’s choice, not her sister’s.
“I should be going.” Tallah’s mysterious visit ended there. She tried to hug Shenka who did a quick back pat before pulling free.
I wanted to ask. I so wanted to. Needed to know.
But instead, I just waited as the door closed behind Tallah, the surge of her magic fading as she left.
Waited for Shenka to tell me what she needed to tell me.
She hesitated, arms around herself, head down. Swayed like a young tree in a storm.
“Okay, well,” she said. “Good night, then.”
And rushed past me, up the stairs to her room.
Closed the door firmly behind her.
Restraint has never been one of my strong suits. Keeping my temper, allowing others secrets when I worried they might affect me and my family. But this was Shenka.
I had to trust her. Didn’t I?
I half spun, ready to go after her, heart clenched against the need to believe she had my best interest—and that of the coven—in mind. Of course she did. She worked so hard to protect the family, was the one who managed the day-to-day so deftly I was hardly necessary most of the time.
But Tallah was her sister, had a blood connection I couldn’t counteract.
Stopped myself at the bottom of the stairs, feeling like a total bitch for allowing my anxiety to make me doubt her.
Forgot all about Shenka and Tallah and my need to uncover the mystery about the wild magicks and what they wanted of me, when a second power crossed the wards, this time in the back yard.
I turned like an automaton, feet carrying me without my permission, heart nudging me out the door and into the grass.
The bond between us left me no choice but to go to Quaid.
***
Chapter Four
I tried to count the months since I'd seen him as I stepped outs
ide into the cool grass and deep of evening. Unable to process how long it had been, all the while not really caring the moment my eyes settled on him.
His hands bulged in the pockets of his jeans, fisted inside the denim, dark head down, wavy hair longer than I'd ever seen it hanging over his face. His broad shoulders rounded inward, black t-shirt wrinkled over his wide chest, the scuffed toes of his leather boots damp from dew.
I had no control over myself, the way my breath caught as our power linked. How his magic, reluctant in the instant I saw him, surged in answer to mine and wrapped me up in the heat of his power. It was so hard not to run to him, to throw my arms around him. Now that I understood the connection we shared, it was all the more painful. I knew I'd carry this aching longing the rest of my days.
My demon moaned her unhappiness as I forced myself to a halt a few feet from him, arms tight to myself to keep from grabbing him even as his familiar scent drifted toward me on a soft breeze.
Traitor air, carrying temptation my way.
When Quaid finally looked up, I almost lost myself. So. Close. But the flicker of agitation in his eyes, the tension in his tall body, was enough to hold me back.
To make me wonder.
“Nice to see you.” I wanted it to come out with sarcasm. Intended it to sting, to bite, my longing driving me to hurt him for the choices he’d made, the pain he’d caused. Instead, I whispered it, heart on fire for him.
Only him.
“I thought it was best if I stayed away.” His voice growled low, gravel over a thick throat. No snark from him either, nor the smirk I expected.
“You've been avoiding me.” I release the tension in my arms, hopelessness making me want to cry all over again. Why did he have to show up, tonight of all nights? When I was already weak from tears and unable to commit to letting him go?
Quaid's shoulders twitched as he half-turned from me, the chocolate deliciousness of him pulling back. “Have you made your decision yet?”
Oh. Boy.