Ancient Ways

by Patti Larsen

  Mom met my eyes as Gram poured gravy over my potatoes, smothering my chicken in the hot, fragrant liquid.

  “I did,” she said. Took a bite of chicken, eyes never leaving mine.

  Damn her. How could I keep my temper up when she didn't fight back?

  “Girl.” Gram prodded me with one sharp index finger. “Eat.”

  Like I could think of food at a time like this. I halfheartedly chewed a mouthful, hating how delicious it was, even as Mom took a sip of water, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her napkin.

  “It was necessary,” she said. “There's more going on than you realize. I had to protect you, Syd.”

  “No,” I shot back, fork rattling against the side of my plate as I tossed it down. Ah, there was my anger. Right on cue. “You needed to trust me, Mom. But, as usual, you tried to keep me in the dark. Left me to find out things on my own.”

  “You went to see the Dumonts.” Mom's expression didn't waver, still cool and collected, though the barb in her voice told me we were going to have a fight after all.

  “The Brotherhood is behind this.” Gram's words cut the air between Mom and me, jerking our attention from each other to my grandmother. She stuffed a large mouthful of chicken, veggies and potato into her mouth, a drip of gravy running down her chin as she chewed with great enthusiasm.

  Mom cleared her throat, nodded. “They could be,” she said. “We think.”

  “We know.” The one bite of dinner I'd taken curdled in my stomach. “Demetrius Strong was at the Dumont mansion.”

  Mom's blue eyes flashed, one arched eyebrow rising. “What did he tell you?”

  Oh, so she could keep things from me, but I was supposed to give up the secret recipe? Yeah, not happening. Sucked he didn't tell me anything. Would have been nice to have something to hang over her. Instead, I turned my face away, glaring over the top of her desk at the portrait of her hanging on the wall. Giant. Bigger than life.

  Made me want to set the stupid thing on fire.

  “Doesn't matter now,” Gram said, belching softly into one fist before swilling down a large gulp of water. “None of it does.” She stared at Mom a moment, then aimed her faded blue eyes at me. Power shone in her face, grim expression pushing against me as much as her magic. “If we've learned nothing, it's that we all have to work together.”

  Mom nodded slowly, sighing as she sat back, tossing her napkin to the table. “I know,” she said. “But there are certain things Syd must stay out of. For the safety of the coven.”

  I'd heard that before. Pissed me off how true it was. “So, the Brotherhood.” I reined in my temper, my demon snorting and snuffling as I shoved her down. “Not Ameline after all.” But there was Rupe... Ameline had to have inside information.

  Mom's right hand twitched, fingers tapping the table top. “She refuses to talk,” Mom said. “Not even under Enforcer coercion.”

  Gram grunted. “They aren't pushing hard enough.”

  I had no doubt Gram wouldn't have the same trouble, but Mom shook her head, face relaxing as she rubbed her eyes with her fingertips.

  “It's not that simple,” she said. Looked up and met my eyes, hers full of sadness and fear. “She's managed to find a way to protect herself.”

  From the way Mom flinched, I knew I wasn't going to like what she had to say next.

  “We originally thought she lost access to the powers she stole after they were removed,” Mom said. “We now know that's not the case.”

  Um, what? “Todd is fine.” I had just seen the young Happern yesterday playing with his sister. Ameline’s theft of his soul and the subsequent return of it thanks to yours truly didn’t seem to have done him any damage. Our demon family settled in quite nicely with the coven and seemed more than content. And from what I'd seen of Liam and his Sidhe soul, Cian, everything was fine there, too. Shaylee murmured her agreement, a quick check over of herself reaffirming what I already knew.

  We were fine. All intact.

  So what was Mom talking about?

  Gram sighed out a breath, eyes narrowing. “She opened new pathways.”

  Mom nodded. “We didn't know until it was too late.”

  “Pathways?” I looked back and forth between them, pressure building inside me. “What are you talking about?”

  Mom's hand stilled at last. “Ameline never intended to keep the power she stole,” she said. “But she needed enough strength from the souls she took to burn open the pathways to those powers.” Mom's fingers started up again. “She created new spaces inside herself, literally recreated herself.”

  Gram whistled, shook her head. “No matter how much we hate that girl,” she said, “she's got guts.”

  My brain churned, trying to assimilate what Mom said. “She's made herself a demon.” That was impossible, wasn't it?

  Mom took another sip of water before answering. “And a vampire,” she said. “And a Sidhe.”

  No way. Hang on a second. “How did she manage the Sidhe thing?” I reached for Shaylee again as my princess rebelled at the idea. She was whole. “She doesn't have a Sidhe soul.”

  Mom's jaw clenched, eyes dropping to her plate. “We believe the reason she wanted multiple Sidhe souls inside her had nothing to do with keeping them.” When she finally looked up, her discomfort made me want to squirm. “However she managed it, Ameline now carries the soul of an infant Sidhe inside her. Brand new and growing rapidly.”

  Oh. My. Swearword.

  Gross.

  Just. Freaking.

  Holy.

  Shaylee lost it inside me, thrashing, fury raging, a film of power flaring over my vision, tinting everything before me green. “She got Shaylee pregnant?” With Cian?

  Gram gaped at me before chuckling. “You wanted that boy for yourself,” she said. “What's the big deal?”

  Oh, this was a very big deal, thank you very much. Huge. Massive.

  Shaylee shuddered, retreated, but not before Mom shook her head.

  “We believe it was Cian and the queen's aide, Bronagh, who created the infant soul,” Mom said.

  Shaylee shuddered, calmed a little, though I could still feel her fury churning, joined with the anger of my demon. Even my vampire hissed her unhappiness, usual stoic quiet shattered at the thought of Shaylee being used.

  “How do you know?” I slammed my chair back, lurching to my feet. I had to investigate. To be sure. Mom rose herself, power sliding around me, holding me still.

  Oh no, she did not.

  “We've had her tested,” Mom said. Firmly. Very firmly.

  “You're not Sidhe,” I snarled.

  “No,” she said. “But Liam is.”

  Liam...

  “I had to keep you out of it.” Mom wrung her hands, face twisting in a mix of anxiety and grief. “I had no choice, Syd.”

  I shook off her power with a burst of demon fire, entire body going cold as my flaring temper faded to absolute icy fury. At her. At the guy who was supposed to love me.

  Double betrayal.

  “So now Ameline has all the power she needs,” I said, words frozen daggers, slicing through Mom's defenses. “And thanks to the Council, she's been letting her magic grow over all these months while you try to figure out how to pull your fingers out of your butts and strip her magic.” A hitching pressure squeezed my chest, the need to destroy something rising. “What the hell are you waiting for?”

  Mom's own anger crackled suddenly, her worry turning to aggression. “I'm doing the best I can,” she snapped. “My job, Syd. And as much as you clearly don't trust me to do what I have to, I have limited options.”

  Gram rose to her feet, fluffy socks silent on the floor. She stood between us, a wall of calm holding us apart. “That girl can't be allowed to grow any further,” Gram said in the most reasonable tone I'd ever heard from her. “You know that, Miriam. If she has access to sorcery as well, which I have no doubt is the case, you have a baby maji on your hands.”

  Mom shuddered, visibly pulling herself under
control as my skin goosebumped, rage washing away in a surge of fear.

  “How do you think she's been able to keep us from breaking her?” Mom turned away, arms around herself, staring out the window. “Even as weak as she is, our power is no match for creation energy.”

  What an absolute disaster.

  “Then let me do it.” Gladly, with bells on, singing hallelujah in a pink tutu. “She might have maji power, but I'm stronger than her.” All of my alter egos surged in answer.

  Mom flinched. “We can't,” she said. “We must follow the law. Ameline Benoit has to stand trial.”

  My teeth made a grinding noise as I fought my need to swear at her. “When, then?”

  “The Enforcers are still gathering evidence.” Mom dropped her arms, shoulders slumping forward. “It could take a few more months.”

  What were they doing, creating evidence? “Mom, you have more than enough to take her to trial.”

  She turned to me, eyes sad. “I know,” she said. “But the law dictates we must be thorough, Syd. And Ameline's activities go well beyond her encounters with you and the Hayle coven.”

  Fingers in more rotten pies? Why didn't that surprise me?

  “There's one way around this,” I said. “Let me talk to her. Two minutes. I'll shut her down, at least. Seal off her new powers.” Mom had to know if Ameline was allowed to continue to nurture her newborn maji ability, things would only end in disaster.

  Gram answered before Mom could. “You can't,” she said, voice grim.

  She said what?

  “She's been badgering me to visit her since she was captured,” I said.

  “I know,” Mom said, shoulders going back, face returning to a mask of calm, clearly triggered by Gram's unhappy support. “But regardless, you aren't permitted to see her. Even if you weren't one of her main accusers, Ameline is being held in our most protected prison and isn't allowed visitors.”

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  I spent the next two heartbeats looking back and forth between my mother and my grandmother, mouth opening and closing as I tried to comprehend the stupidest thing I'd heard in my entire life.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” Okay, I didn't mean to jump on Mom like that, I really didn't. But it came out, boy did it ever, in absolute shock.

  I could have been more tactful, I know that now. But I really think, no matter how I called her an idiot, Mom's reaction would have been the same.

  The tell-tale mask of cold rose, her whole body rigid.

  Yup, went too far this time, Syd.

  Every time.

  “Dinner is over.” Mom swept from the table, returning to her desk, back to us. “Return to your family, Coven Leader, and leave this matter to me.”

  I hated it—hated it so much—when she pulled the Council Leader bullcrap on me. My mind reached out for hers, to connect. Met empty blankness.

  Before blue fire crackled over my mind and sent me staggering back with a cry of pain.

  “How dare you?” Mom strode forward, flames rippling around her, the power of her office raging as she towered over me where I bent in half, my hands pressed to my temples. I heard the growl of Charlotte's wolf, dimly registered her yip of hurt.

  Tell me she didn't just attack Charlotte, too. Oh hell no. I wasn't taking that from her, no way, no how. My own magic answered, all the power at my command rising in a wave of fury as I straightened to face the woman before me, ready to fight.

  Charlotte crouched beside me, blue power crackling over her as she twitched and whined, the wolf in her fighting to escape while Mom's magic flared, blue eyes full of rage. I severed the attack with power of my own, felt the wards in the room spring to life, ready to come for me if I acted again, knew without a doubt this place was coming down and I couldn't wait to tear it apart with my bare hands.

  No one hurt Charlotte. No one.

  Gram's hand pressed to my chest, sliding through the sparking energy surrounding me while her other fisted, tapping against Mom's shoulder. Something snapped inside me, sending me backward again, this time with horror growing in my gut, the knowledge I would have attacked my own mother given another moment.

  And that she'd already attacked me.

  Mom's face twisted, tears rising in her eyes, her magic retreating, one hand rising toward me.

  “Syd,” she whispered, before turning to Charlotte, hand over her mouth in horror. “I'm so sorry.”

  No way. Not now. Maybe later.

  Maybe.

  “Let's go, girl,” Gram said, taking my elbow, leading me to the door, my bodywere firmly gripped in her other hand. The wards around the exit flared and fell as Mom broke them to allow us to leave. I refused to look back, my heart thudding in my chest, pain like I'd never known driving spikes through my chest while Charlotte snarled over her shoulder before thudding the door firmly shut behind her.

  I collapsed against a chair as the door closed behind me, clutching at my throat while the agony rose. Pain ripped through me, my heart stuttering a few beats. Had Mom done some damage I missed, her power still coming for me?

  Gram pulled me to her, power sliding over me, supporting me as I realized the hurt I felt wasn't physical.

  I don't know why it hit me so hard just then, the fact my own mother struck at me with her magic, treated me like an enemy. No matter what happened, she'd always managed to see past her anger and admit I was right.

  That I'd done what I had to do.

  Not this time. My mother just attacked me for trying to reach out to her. And now my heart wanted to die.

  I gasped for air, unable to focus, shoving away from Gram, staggering through the sitting room in Mom's quarters, not seeing the dark wood walls, the glaring eyes of the portraits of other Leaders. Not caring that Mom’s hideous little secretary, Maurice, glared as he huffed past, an arrogant sneer on his face. I made it to the hall, the elevators, fell inside one, barely catching myself as I grasped the hand rail and clutched it like a life line as the sobs threatening to tear me in two finally escaped.

  I'd survived so much over the years since Batsheva Moromond and her evil husband tried to take over my family. Through pain and loss and heartache, I'd always had Mom to lean on, in the end. Even when I didn't think it was true, she had my back, did her best, even when I lost it.

  But she'd never, not in our darkest moments, ever struck me with magic. The dull memory of her hand on my cheek reminded me of the one and only blow she'd delivered, so long ago I barely remembered being sixteen and a pain in the ass.

  This. This was so different that slap didn't even qualify in the same category.

  Gram's hand settled on my back, rubbed small circles while I choked on my tears, on my disbelief, more shaken than really damaged. I turned to her, hugged her, trembling so violently I thought I might fall. Gram held me up, slim body stronger than I'd given her credit for, cheek pressed to my hair as she rocked me gently.

  Girl, she sent. I know. And if I could save you from this, I would.

  I couldn't form a coherent thought, not yet.

  Listen to me, she sent. Your mother... the pressure of her job, of keeping you safe... I'm not making excuses. Her anger flared, settled. And turning on you was inexcusable. But you have to pull yourself together.

  I didn't want to hear it, hear her. No matter what happened, what mess I was in, Mom never, ever lashed out at me like that.

  Heartbreaking.

  Sydlynn. Gram's voice cut through my grief. Enough.

  I snuffled, pulled back from her, feeling like the support system of my entire life just shattered under me and left me to dangle over a chasm of darkness.

  The elevator dinged, the doors opening to the bottom floor. Gram guided me out, past a pair of startled looking witches who dodged the still furious and hyper-protective Charlotte, my grandmother's arm linked through mine as I wiped at my cheeks with my sleeve, the fragments of my soul weeping and raging in alternating surges, my alter egos fighting for balance.

/>   Gram planted me on a bench, Charlotte hovering, vibrating with rage, behind me. My grandmother held my hands while I vented the last of my emotions. By the time I was done, tears dried, mind and body numb, hands still shaking, my anger had won.

  “There's something wrong with Mom.” I couldn't bring myself to believe she'd acted of her own free will. She had to be under some kind of control, coercion...

  Gram watched, silent and grim until I finally had to look away.

  There was nothing wrong with Mom. Except I'd finally pushed her past the point of no return.

  “Are you done?” There wasn't any judgment in Gram's question, but I felt her impatience and shrugged.

  “Whatever,” I said, rising to my feet, turning my back on Massachusetts Hall and my mother. No more running to her when things went wrong. No more keeping her informed, Council Leader or not. She made it clear I was no longer welcome.

  Mom and I were through.

  I met Charlotte's eyes, felt her barely contained rage. Reached for her with my magic, felt the pain in her, that Mom hurt her after all. Healed what I could with my spirit magic, my vampire whispering softly to me, whispers I ignored as Charlotte's skin, once covered in a pattern of dark red burns healed to normal pale tan.

  Unbelievable. And unacceptable.

  I had to get the hell out of here before my anger drove me back into Mom's office to finish what she started.

  Gram's arm slid through mine again. Before I could slice open the veil to take us home, she turned us and steered me toward the other side of campus.

  We're not going home just yet, Gram sent. That is, if you're still willing to break a few of your mother's precious rules?

  Since when had rules stopped me? I frowned at her as my feet followed, carrying me along, my bodywere pacing behind us.

  Where are we going? I firmly stuffed Mom's betrayal to the back of my mind. I'd dig it out later, dissect it, rage and weep over it some more before smothering it in chocolate.

  Coping mechanisms rocked.

  If we get caught, Gram sent, this was your idea. She cackled a moment before falling silent. I'm serious, girl. We'll both be arrested and they won't even make keys for our cells. If we get cells. More like bottomless pits.