by Patti Larsen
“And then?” I didn't want to know. But I had to. Needed to protect my family.
Selfish, selfish.
Damned right.
“Will he kill her for me?” Mia's body trembled violently as she clutched at my hand. “Quaid. Will he kill Ameline, do you think?”
I glanced sideways at his tall, broad back, the way his shoulders twitched. How she spoke of him as if he wasn’t even here. More sympathy, more pain. “If she's guilty,” I said, absolutely believing it. “I'll kill her myself.”
Mia wailed softly before letting my hand go. “This is worse,” she whispered. “So much worse than before. You remember?”
I knew exactly what she meant. When she was powerless. I'd been there, too. Back when things were simpler, when she was the Goth girl Pain, her boyfriend Blood at her side, high school and bullies and a séance waking some of her buried magic. Magic that only returned to her when the Sidhe soul she carried forced her way to the surface the night the Wild Hunt attacked.
The night she turned eighteen and her mother’s protections shattered.
I knew how she felt. But I didn't, not really, did I? I'd been cut off from my personal magic, from my demon when Demetrius Strong took her from me. The power Gram left inside me as a baby smothering my magic to keep itself safe. But I wasn't coven leader then. Didn’t have access to all that power. The memory of stepping inside the mansion of the Brotherhood rose instead. All power gone, cut off.
Blind, deaf, dumb, silent.
Okay, yeah. I did know.
Shudder.
“Now I understand what it's supposed to feel like, it's so much worse.” Mia's face shone slick with tears while I nodded and wished I could just run away and let someone else comfort her before I broke down and sobbed with her.
She rolled her head to the side, looking away from me, mouth gaping open as she wept into her black velvet pillow and I knew, deep down, my damaged and weak-minded friend finally reached her limit.
Mia Dumont was broken and there was nothing I could do about it.
Time to go. Sassafras set one paw in my lap.
So he had heard Mom’s order. How can I just leave her like this? No, I wasn't responsible.
Was I?
Let your mother handle it, Sassafras sent. We have our own coven to protect.
Fear rippled through me before I pushed him gently aside and bent over Mia. Yes, my family had to take priority. But I also refused to just leave my friend after she asked for my help again.
Maybe for the last time.
“Mom's asking me to leave,” I said. She turned her head back, blue eyes dead, drained of emotion at last. “But if you tell her it's okay, I can stay. Support you.”
A flicker of something shone in her gaze a moment. Hope? I doubted it. Maybe a long-lost distant cousin. Mia seemed far removed from finding a shred of hope. And then, it died, leaving her shell to shake her head a little.
“Thank you for being here,” she said, in the voice of an automaton.
I hugged her, felt her collapse under my embrace, hollow and lost, before turning away, leaving her there though my guilt drove me near to the breaking point, and abandoned my friend to her fate.
***
Chapter Eight
It was a slower ride home, though it still only took seconds for the veil to dump the three of us at the edge of our property. I crossed over into the yard, welcoming the feeling of the family wards as they embraced me, the coven's power surging forward to suck me in and wrap me up in a blanket of magic protection.
There was a time I would have resisted such an embrace. Not today. I needed all the hugs I could get.
The Wild Hunt slept peacefully beneath my feet as I crossed the bright green grass to the back door. I shuddered to think what would happen if the Hayle family magic was stolen. Gwynn ap Nudd and his riders would rise, devouring the plane in storm and disaster.
But I'd be long gone, so it wouldn't matter to me, I guessed. Because anyone trying to take my family's power would do it over my dead and mangled body.
Gram waited for me at the back door, holding it wide for Sass and Charlotte, her arm slinging around my waist as I let them go ahead of me, the screen door thudding shut behind us, Gram steering me toward the kitchen.
Shenka sat at the table, gaze far away as Sassafras hopped up to his place, Charlotte pacing to look out the kitchen door as though expecting an imminent attack.
My second came back to us with a soft shudder before rising to hug me, face wreathed in concern.
“How's Mia?”
I filled them in, knowing Gram already had the scoop thanks to the bond we shared through the family magic. She was still part leader, after all, though she'd been siphoning more and more of the power to me over the last little while. Since I'd chosen Shenka, actually. Still, it didn't keep her from poking around in my head whenever she felt like it.
Nosy, old—
“As much as I hate to agree with her,” Gram cut off my train of thought. Convenient. “I have to agree with Miriam.”
I slumped into a chair and bobbed a nod. “I know,” I said. “It's wrong, Gram. Mia needs us now, more than ever. But coven law is coven law.” Even when it didn't make much sense, the laws of our society were the fabric holding us all together. Or something equally as ridiculous.
Shenka tapped her finger-tips against the table, dark skin flushed with worry. “I tried to get through to Tallah,” she said. “But I couldn't reach her.”
Gram grunted, dropping into her own seat. “The pair of you stay out of it,” she said, jabbing one index finger first at Shenka, then at me, a prod of magic joining her gesture. “Besides, as far as I'm concerned, it's a problem solved.”
Gram's dislike—okay, utter hate—for the Dumont family wasn't exactly a big secret. Thanks to Odette and her puppet sister, Naudia, Gram lost her husband, her sanity and almost her life. But there were bigger implications here I couldn't move beyond.
“You know whoever stole the Dumont magic must have an agenda.” Gram wouldn't meet my eyes. Of course she knew. “And they now have control of one of the most powerful coven cores on our continent.” For all I knew, in the world. Gram crossed her arms over her chest, jaw set. “And no matter what they've done, what their leaders have done, no family deserves what happened, Gram.” I reached for her, forced her arms down by digging my fingers in between her clenched grip, took her hand as she finally relented and thudded one heel against the chair leg in unhappiness. I opened to both of them, Shenka included, and let them feel what I felt, see what I saw. Gram didn't flinch. She'd been watching. But Shenka's small cry of grief softened my grandmother's hardness until she sagged and sighed.
Faded blue eyes met mine. “What do you want to do?”
“Call the coven.” I sat back, chewing my bottom lip. “Have either of you told them what happened?”
Mutual head shakes. “We didn't know,” Shenka said while Gram grimaced and winked. Bratski. “But there were inquiries when we tightened the wards.”
“They need to know what's going on.” I reached out, down through the network, feeling Gram support me, her approval of my choice solidifying my resolve. Would it cause panic? Probably. At least at first. But they deserved to know. A forewarned coven was a forearmed coven.
They reached for me, eager and curious. I did my best to mask my worry, though I could tell from some of them I didn't succeed fully.
The warmth of the family embraced me as I connected down to the last member.
I'm calling a meeting. A tiny part of me shivered, regretted. Second guessed. How many times would I drag my family through disaster after mess after impending doom? And yet, was it fair to keep them in the dark? Mandatory attendance. Immediately.
I tempered my words with love and kindness, but allowed out enough urgency they responded with instant agreement. The basement door beckoned as I stood and retreated below, descending the stairs with Gram behind me, Charlotte following, Sassafras bounding ahead while S
henka remained behind, mind linked to mine, to welcome the family as they arrived at our door.
I stopped in the center of the pentagram, gathered myself, shielding my thoughts from everyone, drawing on the family magic as I stared down at the symbols etched in the concrete floor.
Magic flowed through the house as the family crossed the wards, in twos and threes, within moments of my call. I felt them filling the basement, heard the soft murmur of their voices, but kept myself apart, trying to decide how to tell the people who looked to me to keep them safe I had no idea if I could. For all I knew, every coven was now at risk. And though I would fight for them to my last breath, the thought of even one of my family dying—let alone in the numbers Mia lost—closed my throat and made it hard to focus.
Full complement. Shenka's smooth, warm mental voice touched my mind. Everyone is here.
I turned, lifting my head, wrapping myself in the power of the family, letting my shielding drop and welcoming them to me. The coven swayed, men, women, children staring, concern growing though their support didn't waver. Gone was the family fearful of my leadership. Fearful of what might happen. Instead, they offered strength and utter faith and, for the first time since Mia reached for me, I felt my heart sigh and unclench.
We'd be fine. No matter what happened.
We were Hayles.
“My family,” I said, tears rising in my eyes as I hugged them tight. “I have terrible news.” I filled them in quickly, letting them into my memories as I shared the plight of the Dumont coven. They gasped and wept and embraced each other, but their faith never wavered. Not even a bit. Not even when one of the Lawrence sisters, little Estelle with her perfect twinset and comfortable shoes, met my eyes and spoke the unspeakable.
“Are we at risk?” Her voice sounded strong, level. Confident. Her twin, Esther, held her hand, face as composed as her sister's.
“No one knows,” I said. “It's possible this was a singular attack against the Dumonts.”
“Perhaps a coven to coven attack?” Esther's tone matched Estelle's.
“Perhaps.” I met Gram's eyes, saw the pride there, tied to her own faith. “But I doubt it. We must be realistic about this.” Everyone shifted, a hundred hearts pounding, a hundred souls shifting together. “There is a very good chance the Dumont coven was only the beginning. Any family could be next.”
They accepted the truth without falling to pieces. Wicked. From the way they looked at me, that was my doing. So who was going to hold me together?
We will. My vampire's whisper joined the hum of my demon, Shaylee's soft sigh and the thrum of the family magic.
Right. Never alone.
“I want to offer support to the Dumont coven.” I felt them recoil, Gram among them, but pursued my thought before they could reject it. “I know Odette was our enemy. But they have a new leader. And she needs us now. Her family does, what's left of it.” They shuddered as one, relented. All but Gram who fixed me with her piercing eyes. “I have an ulterior motive. Naturally.” I let myself smile, a weak and frail thing, but enough they relaxed into my reasoning. “If this threat is coming for us, I want as much information as possible. Firsthand accounts from the Dumont family.” My people sighed, swayed, nodding and welcoming my suggestion now. “I won't make any of you go. But I'm asking for volunteers.”
The twins came forward immediately, a dozen or so others, couples with no children, singles. My chest tightened as I realized they chose among themselves, those who could be lost without too much effect to the whole. I swallowed the lump of love and bitterness before nodding and reaching for Mom.
The Hayle coven offers support to the Dumont coven. Her mind flinched from mine as the whole family pushed behind me, their agreement undeniable. As long as Mia agrees. And, in a private aside: I'm not asking permission.
Mom's mental voice scraped over mine. Very well, she sent. But only if the coven leader agrees.
As I released Mom , my mind worked over her words. Actually, the Dumonts weren't a coven anymore, were they? Their family magic was gone. And Mia, almost powerless, wasn't their leader.
A technicality, Gram sent. But we'll exploit it if we need to.
You agree? I watched the family break focus, talking among themselves, knew I'd have a lot of people to speak to individually in the next few hours, but allowed them time to be together.
Not completely. Irritation tinted her gruff mental tone. But you're right about digging for info. Just don't ask me to lift a finger to help.
Wouldn't dream of it. I almost laughed, would have if things weren't so horribly serious. Besides, I have another job for you.
She bobbed her head, white hair wavering. Figured, she sent. Just be careful, girl. It's a fine line you're dancing along. One false step and you won't need to worry about the power thieves.
I hated that she was right.
***
Chapter Nine
Hurry up and wait was never so agonizing. After Mia's almost eager acceptance of Hayle coven support, the small group of family I transferred settled in to help with healing and protection. Mia wasn't on her feet yet, not making an appearance when I finally left my small group behind. But not much time had passed, only a few hours, so I wasn't really all that surprised.
The real agony came over the next two days, waiting, wondering. I paced the house, certain I'd wear holes in the floors, wanting to be there myself, but knowing Mom would immediately pull the plug if I pushed her too hard. Esther and Estelle did a great job contacting me at regular intervals, but neither of them had much to report.
It seems not just the family power was taken, Estelle sent early that first evening. Either that, or the witches in this coven are naturally weak, only powerful because of their family magic.
Possible, Esther sent. Whatever the case, with the loss of the family's power, not one of the witches here will be capable of much alone. And even were they to try to form a coven again, with what limited power they have available, there is no way that magic could support a family this size.
Even reduced as they are, Estelle sent. Agreed.
I let them go after each exchange, growing more frustrated by the moment. Shenka's attempts to reach her sister continued to fail and I began to wonder if Mom had something to do with it.
How much had she told the other covens, if anything at all? I wouldn’t put it past her to block our attempts to talk outside our family if she didn’t want what happened to become common knowledge just yet. Still, it was pretty damned selfish, considering the growing worry bowing Shenka’s shoulders.
And as far as I was concerned, everyone needed to know. Everyone.
When the sun set on the third day with no answers, silence from Mom and Tallah and my nerves frazzled to a crispy edge thanks to the constant vigilance we maintained, I finally had enough. Gram must have known how close I was to my breaking point, because as I slammed down my fork and opened my mouth to tell her I was going to the Dumonts, she casually sipped her water before saying, “Why don't you go check on our people?”
Shenka choked on her dinner before flashing me a tight grin, one fading as fast as it came. “It's weird,” she said, though from the pinched concern on her face, “weird” was a weak term for what she felt. “Why can’t I get through to Tallah?” I felt her panic and kicked myself for not sharing my worries about Mom’s probable course of action.
I quickly explained what I assumed was true while Gram nodded and Sassafras snorted his agreement. Shenka visibly relaxed, though her forehead creased in anger when I finished.
“Would it not be better to share this will all covens?” I’d never heard such an edge in her voice. Winced. Felt terrible she’d spent the last three days fearing the Hensley's were gone, too.
And since she just repeated what I’d been thinking, I shrugged. “There’s no way anyone else has been attacked.” I had to believe Mom would have told us if another incident occurred. Okay, maybe not. But Quaid would have. “But if she has kept it secret, it expla
ins why the other covens haven’t reached out to us.” Not like they would anyway. Bunch of secretive biddies minding their own business so much the world could fall apart and they wouldn't realize it until it was too late. “I think we should both go check on our people.”
Gram nabbed my plate and helped herself to my dinner as I stood with Shenka.
“Keep an eye on the place,” I said, feeling far too much joy considering the circumstances. But I was about to do something. And acting felt like the closest thing to happiness I had access to right now.
Gram waved us off with her fork, not looking up as Shenka and I, Charlotte on our heels, left the kitchen and went out the back door.
“Be careful.” Sassafras followed us, pausing at the threshold. “I'll stay with Ethpeal and keep an eye on things. But you two, don't do anything stupid.” He hesitated. “On the other hand, maybe I should go with you.”
I let the door close in his face. “Stay put,” I said. “Gram might need you.”
He swatted at the screen, but didn't comment as we crossed the lawn, heading for the park.
“You realize this could possibly get us arrested?” I glanced sideways at Shenka as I spoke.
She turned to me as we crossed the wards, eyes wide, face innocent. “But we're just making sure our people are okay.”
Snort. “Perfect,” I said. “If Mom blows it, you handle her.” Because if I had to plaster that face on, I'd fail.
New wards sat in place at the Dumonts, but only around the front door. The veil deposited us on the wide, stone steps, and I didn't hesitate to enter without knocking. Not like anyone in the family would have answered. The place felt like a tomb. Three Enforcers swooped down, but stopped when I let them feel my power.
“Just here to check on our people.” Okay, so I could lie, too. Just not to Mom.
The one in the lead, a hefty woman with huge hands and a flat face hesitated. They must have had conflicting orders because, after a moment, she shrugged and backed off.