by Patti Larsen
She didn’t deserve the information I had.
But she was leader of the Council. She had to listen.
Like that would ever happen.
And I was arguing with myself again. Maybe Gram’s nuthouse routine was contagious.
Craptastic.
After ten minutes waffling, starting out toward Massachusetts Hall before turning back several times, I finally sighed and nodded and caved.
Gram's smirk wasn't as satisfied as it was understanding.
And so, with no other recourse, we went home.
All hail the conquering heroes.
I paced restlessly around my bedroom for hours, refusing dinner, conversation. I knew Gram filled in Shenka because I could hear them talking outside my door. Charlotte had the courtesy to stay out of my way, and I was glad. I didn't need that kind of protection.
Not the physical kind.
Just protection from myself.
I considered going to the gym, whacking on the heavy bag for a while, just to vent my frustration, but I couldn't bring myself to leave the house.
I really needed to have a bag installed in the basement.
Sleep was impossible, even well after 1AM. The quiet house finally beckoned me to emerge, now dark and quiet, the silent kitchen waking with cold light as I helped myself to some leftovers. I couldn't bring myself to go back upstairs alone, instead descending into the basement, to the family pentagram. I sat in the center, cross legged, anchoring myself in the power of the coven, feeling them sleeping through the connection.
Creepy, peeping-Tom level ickiness? Not on purpose. Just my job.
Peter Simmons tossed in his bed, a nightmare easily soothed as I sent him back to slumber. Arabelle Martin sat up reading, unable to put the book down and, for a page or so, I followed along, until the heat of the romance between the two main characters made her giggle and me blush, leaving her to her secret pleasure. Mary Gripper and her newborn son, Alex, were the only other two up so late. She didn't need me, lost in her baby, her magic embracing him, a warm cocoon of power tying back to the family, to comfort and peace and safety. All bound in love so powerful I almost wept to know what it would feel like, someday, to love someone so much.
I let the soothing feeling of her caring for her child calm me, bring me as much joy as I'd ever felt and sent silent thanks, though she would never know how much peace she brought me.
In balance at last, I dove into my exercises, the same ones Quaid helped me develop, and tried not to think about him. Would he turn me in? Turn in Varity? I found it hard to believe, knew he'd been at war with himself. But he was an Enforcer, wasn't he?
And once he took his full oath, he wouldn't owe me a scrap of loyalty.
Still, I couldn't believe he would do anything to hurt me or the coven he still called his own. It was easy to convince myself if Varity hadn't appeared, we'd still be safe. That he'd have merely vented his frustration and escorted us out. Hadn’t he seemed more hurt than self-righteous, wondering why I hadn’t come to him in the first place? I know he would have delivered a very firm Quaid lecture full of disappointment and opinion expressed in that jerktard way of his before simply letting us go.
The pull of creation magic cleared my mind, driving thoughts of Quaid, the stronghold, my fears and worries away completely at last. The dull, empty feeling of my sorcery woke beneath me, the petals of a dark flower opening, gaping in hunger, locking in place at the base of my power. Layers of magic, Sidhe, demon, vampire, witch, wound together in an elaborate pattern. I'd been trying different methods to connect them all, wanting to find the most efficient. I'd never been very good at the whole practicing magic thing. I always did my best work in a total panic with the fate of the world on the line. But there was something incredibly soothing about running the exercises, about absorbing myself in the flow of my powers, a feeling I embraced fully and wished I could maintain all the time.
Because that was, ultimately, the point. To reach a place where I lived my abilities, instead of reacting to them. With them.
Hopefully before the crap totally hit the fan.
The intrusion came gently, with hesitation, not really an intrusion at all. Her touch, though unexpected, was welcome and I made sure she knew it. I reached for Trill and drew her to me, letting her into the swirl of mixing magicks, amazed by the happy joy my alter egos felt at welcoming her, too. The girl I’d first met, the angry girl who hid behind a shell of harshness as her only protection, was long gone. Trust blossomed between us these days. Trill joined her creation magic to mine, the soft touch of her power sparking.
Despite her calm, I could feel her worry.
And I'd been expecting this was a social call in the middle of the night?
What's wrong? I automatically reached for answers, only to have her block me.
This is my battle to win, she sent. I've just had some... difficulties adjusting.
To? I sank back, hovered with her, caught the image of her sitting in the back of her family's old RV, the night sky as dark as mine, a few other vehicles outside indicating she was in some kind of campground.
Not everything is as I thought originally, she sent. There are more sides to this puzzle than I expected. Her fingers fiddled with themselves, reached for her face and encountered nothing.
No glasses. What happened to her that she no longer needed them?
Her use of phrase made me shudder. She felt my reaction and seized on it the same way I'd seized on hers. Made me smile.
We were so much alike it cracked me up.
I told her about Ameline, the Dumont power loss. My fight with Mom. Trill didn't feel optimistic when I ground to a halt.
I fear, she sent, a terrible fear, Ameline is correct.
My vampire sighed as the maji girl repeated what she’d already told me.
Aw hell.
Even as there are two sides to the sorcerer's sects, Trill sent, her mind shivering, tied to her worry, there are those of the maji blood who don't follow our path.
She said what? Who are they? Are you in trouble?
Trill's power hugged me. I'm fine, she sent, the “for now” she didn't add hovering between us. But I can see now the truth of it. The Light and the Shadow, Syd. Balance. And these dark maji, they would side with Ameline and her goals. Trill sighed mentally. Are you certain she doesn't have good intentions? She seems determined to defeat the Brotherhood.
If you even knew how laughable that was, I sent back. Are these dark maji of yours well intentioned?
Trill paused. Excellent point. Another moment of hesitation. Please, be careful.
You too. I let out my own long exhale. Should I be guarding against these dark maji? What are they after?
They don't know about you, she sent with a touch of panic. Like such knowledge would mean disaster. At least as far as I can tell. You should be safe enough, as long as you don't do anything to attract them.
Which she had, obviously. You're sure you don't need help?
Trill's mind echoed with gratitude. Honestly, she sent, I've had better days. She continued to shield against me and there was no way I'd pry if she didn't want me to know. As much as it killed me not to. Nosy much? But I can handle it. And if you did try to help, they would find out about you. They'd realize we're closer to the war starting than they think. Bad enough they've misinterpreted the prophesy about Owen and I.
Didn't sound good at all. Okay, I sent, but don't be stubborn about it. If you need me, you call. We'll deal with what comes after that.
Trill didn't say anything for a long moment and I thought maybe I'd lost her or she'd gone from me on purpose. Had I pushed her too far? I knew how proud she was, how self-reliant. I was just as bad. But when she reached for me again, I caught the image of her wiping tears from her cheeks.
Thank you, she sent, even her mental voice hoarse. You don't know what that means, Syd. Knowing we're not alone anymore.
Being alone was a massive touchstone for me. One I understood completely.
We sat together, minds linked, until she finally settled again. I should let you sleep. Like sleep was coming to me any time soon. And I have things to attend. Something scuttled through her power and I finally felt what was troubling her, the subtle darkness in her power. My creation magic, my maji, woke and bonded together, reaching for her, to heal the damage.
Again she blocked me. I didn't want to admit it, she sent. But now that we've spoken, as much as I wanted to be rid of the dark, I think I'm going to need it.
Balance.
Right.
You won't like this, she sent. But you will probably need to free Ameline at some point. Be prepared.
Like hell. We'll see, I sent back.
I hope not. Trill embraced me again. But the way is dark to both of us. All we can do is what we do best.
Save the world. I had to laugh. Even if it doesn't want saving.
She laughed too. I miss you, her mind whispered.
And then, she was gone.
I sat there a long time, fists clenched, telling myself over and over again there was no way I would ever free Ameline.
No. Way.
Never quite believing it.
***
Chapter Eighteen
Emptiness echoed from the kitchen. The touch of it pulled me from the sleep I'd finally managed to wrangle, harsh and unforgiving rest filled with endless stone corridors and Ameline's laughter.
I leaped from bed, raced down the stairs, while my heart skipped beats and adrenaline raced through my system. My power gathering, maji surging inside me. Only one thing felt empty like that.
Sorcerer.
In my house.
I skidded to a halt, iridescent power rippling around me, hands fisted and ready to attack. Gram looked up from the bubbling pot of oatmeal she stirred with a wicked little smile on her face.
“You look chipper,” she said.
Someone cackled. I turned, still prepared to defend my home. My family.
Only to come face-to-face with Demetrius's cherubic grin.
“Pretty,” he said, pointing at my rainbow aura.
Gram's giggle joined his. “Think there's a pot of gold in there somewhere?”
Ha freaking ha.
I let the magic fade, the creation power easing, the many parts of me separating and falling quiet, though my demon snorted her irritation at being teased. That didn't mean I wasn't ready to turn the pair of them into something unpleasant.
Nice to know my work was paying off, though. That my maji power came out in reaction to sorcerous threat.
Shenka pounded down the stairs, running right into me, Sassafras leaping with his usual silver grace onto the table while the chuffing growl behind me told me the whole house was awake. Charlotte spotted Demetrius and heaved a sigh before turning and going back upstairs, tiny sleep shorts and midriff tank top barely covering her golden skin, muttering to herself in her Eastern European language. Swearwords. Had to be.
Shenka simply smiled, as cheery as ever, and went right to Demetrius.
“It's so nice to meet you at last,” she said, holding out her hand, power dancing across her skin.
His eyes flew wide, two huge tears forming before spilling down his cheeks. When Demetrius, facial scar pulled sideways by his grimace, leaped to his feet and wrapped his arms around Shenka, I almost laughed.
Would have if I wasn't so damned choked up. Seriously, how pathetic could he get?
And when was the last time someone treated him like a person?
Present company included.
I sank into my chair, hand drifting over Sassy's soft coat. His purr wasn't audible, but I could feel it rumble under his skin and despite its silence, his power had the desired result. By the time Gram set a steaming bowl of porridge in front of me, my mood improved from homicidal mania to grumpy.
Charlotte reappeared, dressed in her normal jeans and tight button up, sliding into a chair next to me, to my surprise. Not that I was complaining. Whatever triggered her decision to have breakfast with us, it was nice to have her there. I stopped petting Sass long enough to squeeze her hand and caught the same startled look of wonder I usually did when I treated her like she was welcome.
Jeeze. I really had to work on my people skills.
Gram served Shenka and Charlotte, a bowl of milk appearing for Sass before she sat herself and dumped half the dish of brown sugar and cinnamon on her porridge before letting me have any.
Weird, this quiet family breakfast. I didn't ask questions, not yet. Wasn't sure why. The calm, the happy smile on Demetrius's damaged face, the way he glowed when he looked at Shenka, who kindly didn't look creeped out, even Charlotte's willingness to eat a meal with me, all added to my sense of what was right with the world.
Considering I knew what was wrong perched around the next conversation, I'd take a few minutes of happy.
I finally sighed and sat back, digging my fingers into Sassy's mane and giving him a good scratch as I focused on Demetrius. The diminutive sorcerer once freaked me out solid. As the distorted and misguided leader of the Chosen of the Light, he tried to burn me at the stake, took my magic away, kidnapped me and stole my demon. Not exactly my favorite person for a long time. But when the time came to step up and help me against the Brotherhood, Demetrius kept his word. Not to mention how hard he tried to assist me when the vampire queens had me arrested.
His smile almost gleamed, bright white teeth so perfect they looked fake as his blue eyes met mine.
“I have news,” he said.
The happy bubble burst, but I didn't regret it. “Hit me,” I said.
His frown made me giggle. Honestly, I'd gone from hate to tolerance to a rather odd affection for the poor man. Now that I understood how badly he'd been used, treated, just how insane he was and that there was far more to his story than Gram ever let on, I felt my heart soften further toward him as he registered I’d been kidding and bounced happily in his seat, clapping his hands together before squeezing his own cheeks between them.
Fish lips wiggled at me as he spoke. “Bet I know something you don't.” It was kind of hard to make out his words, what with the whole squishing thing. But I managed.
“Let's see,” I said, holding up one hand to tick off what I knew. “The Brotherhood stole the Dumont family magic.” That was my index finger. “They've been testing their method on small covens to perfect it.” Middle. This one sucked. I'd spent my whole life in the protected center of a powerful coven. The thought of living with such vulnerability every day made my oatmeal churn. “Mom knows what's been happening and hasn't done anything about it.” Yeah, churning confirmed as my ring finger dropped. “Ameline knew all about it and I ignored her.” All kinds of wrong. “And now that the Brotherhood has managed to steal one large family's magic, they'll be coming after all of us.” My thumb closed around my fist just before I dropped my hand. “Am I missing anything?”
He slumped in his chair, eyes dropping to the table top, hands clenched into trembling clubs on either side of his empty bowl. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, so much. Burnings and ashes and crushed bones.”
Everything went still inside me. All of my alter egos froze, listened with all of our senses as a chill like the grave raced through me.
“What?”
Even Gram looked shocked, Shenka covering her mouth with one hand, eyes brimming with tears. I listened to Charlotte growl as Sassafras joined her while Demetrius bobbed his head, finally meeting my eyes again.
“Little families, so little.” He tilted his head to one side, almost completely sideways, reminding me of an owl. “Such tiny magic, but it was all they needed, wasn't it? To find out. To use the machine.”
“What machine, Demetrius?” I kept my voice low and as calm as possible while the phantom scent of burning flesh tickled my nose.
He hugged himself, rocking in his chair. “They took it all, all of it, right down to the bitter bits. Right down to the nasty nits.” Demetrius let out a thin wail before he settled a
gain. “Killed and butchered them, watched it all, I did, I really did. Then the fuel and the fire. And finally, the hammers and the bones in tiny little fragments.” He fished in his pocket, pulling out a shard of something stained gray. I flinched back as he tossed it at me, the chunk of porous material sliding across the table to stop in front of me.
Bone. Shattered around the edges, the surface filthy with soot.
Shenka sobbed once, softly before her whole body went rigid. Charlotte bent over the sliver, snuffling while Gram sank deep into her chair.
I didn't want to touch it. But I needed to.
The moment my fingers slid over the bone, my perception slid sideways—
—a screaming child runs from a man in a suit while fire burns behind her. A woman shrieks, voice lost in the roar of flames, arms reaching for the girl. A deep voice chuckles, strong hands lifting the weeping girl, no more than three years old before tossing her to her mother.
To the fire. Where they both light up, their family's screams fading as the crackle of the flames devours them—
I jerked free of the vision to the sound of someone throwing up. Gram stood over Shenka, holding her hair while my second puked into the kitchen sink. Charlotte's low, hurt whining bit through my horror while Demetrius rocked and rocked.
The bone fragment slid from my fingers, rattling on the table. Sassafras hissed and spun on Demetrius.
“That wasn't necessary,” he snarled.
Oh, but it was. It really was.
This family was gone. Gone forever. With the shattering of their bones, even their echoes were destroyed, their magic lost to witchdom forever.
I shoved my chair back so hard I heard wood crack. “I have proof now,” I said, not recognizing the sound of my own voice, deep and harsh. “And she damned well better listen.”
Gram nodded as Shenka rinsed her mouth, turning, face ashen gray, brown eyes huge.
“What are they doing with the power?” Gram's words vibrated with emotion, but she managed to hold herself together. Better than any of us.
“Don't know,” Demetrius said in a sweet tone, wiping at a river of tears running down his face, tracing along the edges of his scar. “But I've seen the machine. Touched it, yes I have. Felt the magicks they keep in it.” His blue eyes blinked once, slowly. “You know they went after her for only one reason.”