by Patti Larsen
We all stood frozen, a tableau of blame and rage and grief. Until the doors banged open again and the Council rushed in, other witches piling in after them, screaming for answers, crowding Mom, shoving her back while she wrapped herself in the Council power and forced them all to silence.
I didn't wait for Mom to kick me out. Shoved off Maurice and his pinched dislike, pushed past the two limping Enforcers, unwilling to stand there any longer and listen to Mom lie to the people she led.
Hating I knew she was right about them.
I just hoped she took my advice and forced them to act before habit—and the fear to act—set in.
***
Chapter Twenty One
Home. It felt like a trap to me. Like we were sitting ducks, just waiting for the Brotherhood to show up and take our magic, burn our bodies, crush our bones.
I couldn't let it happen.
Shenka returned from visiting some of the family, only to leave again when a panicked call for support came. Not because we were under attack. But because the family was afraid.
Didn't help I was, too. And they felt it, through me. Felt my rage against Mom, my absolute loss as to what to do from here. Gram huddled in the kitchen, sock feet drawn up on her chair, hugging her knees to her thin chest, glaring into space. Charlotte constantly patrolled the house and yard, a ghost of a girl in and out of wolf form. I'd already warned Galleytrot to keep Liam safely in his cavern, away from any harm that could arise.
I'll watch over him, you know I will. The big dog's power hugged me, his fear as real as mine. But what about you and the family?
We'll manage, I sent. I'm so close to maji, I think I can handle it.
Liar.
Liam tried to reach me too, but I cut him off. I felt his mother in the background and just couldn't take it. Let him keep her wrapped up in Sidhe magic. Let them run through the Gate and save themselves if the time came.
I didn't have that luxury.
When I finally stopped pacing, I spun to find the only person in the house who didn't seem all that worked up making a house out of an old deck of playing cards. Demetrius stacked them with eager precision, humming happily to himself, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth, clamped between his teeth as he focused. Sassafras sat watching, tail thrashing back and forth, amber eyes on fire.
“Demetrius.” He jumped at the sound of my voice, his tower collapsing in a sigh of cards. The sad look he gave me fueled my frustration. “Tell me about this machine.”
Eager puppy returned. “Don't know,” he said. “All crystal, all metal.”
Crystal. Like the one that made Dad's statue an unbreakable diamond and the one in my dresser drawer which saved us from the Brotherhood last time?
“So they’re storing the magic.” I sat at the table next to Gram, caught her head movement as she focused on me. Terrible focus. I wished she'd look away again. “But why?”
Demetrius shrugged, fingers sliding over the cards, dealing them out in an imaginary game, the soft fwap of each one landing on the table almost hypnotic. He snuffled, rubbing the side of his nose against the fresh t-shirt I'd given him to replace the ratty one he'd shown up in.
“Is there a way to retrieve magic from the crystals?” I'd been able to use mine to save Sebastian, to free him from the vampire inside me. Let it out again.
Demetrius's eyes lit up, his dealing silenced as his hands fell still. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, brilliant, have I told you how brilliant and shiny?”
Gram's head whipped around. “Cough it up, nutcase.”
Pot calling the kettle.
He bounced in his seat, scar pulling against his smile. “The leader,” he said. “If the leader called....”
The Brotherhood made a mistake this time. Hadn't burned the bodies, crushed the bones.
They'd left the Dumonts alive.
“Mia could call it back?” I slid my chair out, ready to run to her, to force her to listen.
Demetrius's eyes shuttered, confidence failing. “Don't know,” he whispered. “Is she strong enough or isn't she?” He shook his head, white hair flopping. “Isn't she.”
“Agreed,” Gram said. “She's too weak to be much good for anything.”
I wanted to protest. “You think if they attack a stronger coven they might fail?”
He see-sawed his hand back and forth. “Would have to kill you first,” he said.
And Shenka. And Gram. And the Lawrence sisters.
And every other powerful witch in my family.
Which meant every witch in my family.
That made me feel suddenly better about our chances. One thing about our coven, we might be small, but each and every soul linked through the family magic was a force to be reckoned with. And I could only thank Gram and Mom for our strength.
Was that the biggest difference between us and the Dumonts? The fact our family was welcome to grow, expand, encouraged to be powerful as individuals while the Dumonts were crushed underfoot?
A question to be answered another time. But it reinforced the growing confidence I felt we’d fare far better than the Dumonts if the Brotherhood did come calling.
Gears rattled in my head, ground together. “Is that why they left her alive?” Because they knew Mia wouldn't be strong enough.
And to show us what they could do.
Bastards.
“This is all a show.” I lurched to my feet again, one foot lashing out to kick the lower cupboard door, sending it banging against the frame.
Demetrius bobbed his head. “They wanted you to know.”
“The Dumont family needs a new leader,” Gram said. Turned to me with a dark expression.
Whoa. “Hang on a second,” I said. “You realize you're talking serious treason here. No coven is permitted to interfere—”
Gram slammed both fists onto the table, drawing out a hiss from Sassafras and a squeal from Demetrius. “Listen to yourself!” She stood, stalked toward me, got in my face. “You sound like your mother.”
Oh no, she did not just say that to me.
“Syd,” Sass's voice broke through my flash of rage, “Ethpeal is right.” I met his amber eyes, flickering back to glare at Gram. “Mia is too weak. If there is even a chance the Dumont family magic can be restored and the other powers can be stripped from the crystal machine, she must be replaced with someone who can seize back control.”
I knew they were both right. Of course they were. But, damn it, this was Mia.
My friend.
And as a coven leader, the very idea made me want to puke up the soles of my feet.
“I'll take you.” Demetrius slid from his chair, hands twitching at his sides. “I know where it is.”
Well, that little piece of info would have been handy. “We could tell Mom.” Sigh. “The Enforcers could deal with it.”
Gram turned her back on me. “Then we fail,” she said, sinking into her chair again.
Demetrius bobbed his head. Pointed at me. “A strong leader, the magic, yes. It should work. But you, we need you, Maji.” He whispered the last to me as though in worship. Creeped me out.
“No.” Gram hugged her knees again. “While your mother's methods are questionable, she's right. You have to stay out of this, especially this.” Her voice quavered, sounded like an old woman's. Since when did Gram give up?
“Screw that,” I snarled as Sassafras snapped his tail around his paws.
“I'm with Syd,” he said. “But who can we approach?” His tongue groomed one paw three short strokes before he settled again. “Ameline is in prison.”
“And staying there.” Not even thinking about it.
“The most despised Odette is dead.” Sass didn't sound that upset. Gram snorted, bared her teeth at him. “All of the strong Dumont women are gone.”
Gram let out a gusty sigh, feet thudding to the floor while Demetrius hopped on one foot, eyes locked on her. “There's only one person of any power and respect of the family remaining.”
I couldn
't think of a single woman.
“Andre.” Gram grit her teeth, heels thudding against her chair legs.
A man? “Unprecedented.” Sassafras's snort of derision beat me to it.
“Perhaps,” Gram said, “but as long as the family magic accepts him, he's leader.”
Were we really considering putting Odette's only son, our enemy, in control of the Dumont family?
“We could set up our own leader.” Someone to support Mia, even for a little while.
Sassafras's amber magic snapped at me, making my demon hiss. “Don't be an idiot,” he said in Gram's exact tone. “What we're discussing here is bad enough. If we are even remotely tied to the takeover of the Dumont family power, instrumental in any kind of rebellion against Mia, you'll be on fire before you can ask what's burning.”
Gram tapped her nails on the table, the sound adding to my tension. “As much as I can't stand his weasel ass,” she said, “at least he's pure Dumont. And as powerful as any female witch of his line.” I hesitated to say "was". Gram hadn't felt him after the attack. Which made me groan inwardly. The weakness I'd felt in the Dumonts—was that due to the Brotherhood's tampering or their own inherent lack of power as I’d begun to wonder? And either way, did that mean Andre wouldn't have the strength to free the coven magic after all?
There was only one way to find out.
“I agree,” Sassafras said like that wrapped up the matter. “Andre it is.”
There had been so much betrayal in my own life in the past several years. Could I do this to Mia?
Ultimately, my heart told me no.
“We have to give her the chance,” I said at last. “Before we do anything, Mia has the right to redeem herself.”
Gram looked like she wanted to argue, but Sassafras was the one who spoke.
“We might only get one chance,” he said, voice level, eyes glowing demon fire. “Are you sure you want to use it on Mia?”
“It's her coven,” I said, hardening myself against the fact I expected her to fail. I'd be there for her, to support her. We'd make this work. And I knew I could convince her to come with me and not try to charge me with interference. I didn't trust Andre as far as I could chuck his Armani-suited Dumontness.
Even if I tried to help him, it was likely he'd turn on me just for spite.
Mia it was. “Weak or not, Mia is the leader of the Dumont family,” I said. “For all we know, she's the only one the power will go to anyway. So it has to be her.”
They grumbled and mumbled and sighed. But they agreed, trusting me.
I just wished the feeling was mutual. I could have used a little self-trust right about now.
***
Chapter Twenty Two
I took a moment to slip out to the back yard, to gather my thoughts and pull myself together. The instant my butt hit the bench, I thought of Mr. Yummy Leather Pants and how this was Quaid’s and my usual meeting place. Or had been. Followed by a dose of guilt and worry about him. I'd left him in a precarious position. And while he wouldn't have survived turning me in if that had been his intent after all, it really wasn't his fault I broke the law.
He'd told me in autumn, if I needed him, no matter what, he was there for me. Which made my initial worry he would tell on me anyway fade to non-existence. If Quaid was going to play rat fink, he'd have done it long before now. That look he'd given me in the corridor back at the stronghold, told me he'd known it was me all along.
And rather than sending in the cavalry to round me up, he waited in the dark, alone, to corner me himself.
As much as I wished it wasn't true, I needed him now. It was likely what I was about to ask of him would put him in the line of fire with me. At least he had Varity to protect him if anyone found out about our little invasion. But if he answered my call this time, he was on his own.
I briefly considered contacting the Rhodes Enforcer instead. She'd offered, after all. And proven herself more than trustworthy. But the selfish part of me wanted Quaid, the familiar feel of his power, while I argued with myself I already knew how to work with him and didn't have time to wrangle a new Enforcer.
Yeah, that was the reason.
I think he was waiting for me, because the moment I reached for him he reached back, the warm deliciousness of him sliding over my magic.
Are you all right? There was a time he would have asked me what kind of trouble I was raising with a jab of judgment or gone right into a lecture about our last encounter. But he'd mellowed in the past year, worry and concern replacing his jerkishness.
Damn it. This would be easier if he wasn't all nice and stuff.
I'm fine, I sent. But I have news.
If you're referring to the Brotherhood, he sent with a hint of his old sarcasm, I don't think there's a witch on the continent that isn't aware of the threat now. Nice going.
Ah, there he was. My faithful jerkasaurus.
You sound like Mom, I snapped. Would you rather stick your head up your ass and wait for the Brotherhood to destroy everything?
Not in the least. His sarcasm faded. I meant it. Miriam might think she knows what's best for us, but the time comes when a little freaking out gets the job done faster than trying to be subtle.
Oh. Okay then. Weird. He never agreed with me.
I shared what Demetrius told me, about the confrontation with Mom. He winced mentally, but didn't comment until I was done.
You realize even approaching Mia at this point could be seen as interference. I felt his physical body moving, coming closer. He fell silent a moment, blocking me, the muffled feeling of another mind in his rumbling through. I waited, gnawing on my quick-chewed nails, feet swinging under the bench in the soft sunshine until the wah-wah conversation ended and he came back to me.
It's not my first time on the disobedience rodeo circuit, I sent as soon as I had his attention. But if Demetrius is right, this could be our chance to stop the Brotherhood before they attack another family.
Which could happen at any second. Frankly, I had no idea what they were waiting for.
Gave me a serious jolt of anxiety to think about it.
We don't have much time. He was moving again, mental voice intense. I was just told Enforcers are being dispatched to watch over the families. Two teams of two.
Took her freaking long enough to act. And when she finally did? Yeah, perfect timing, Mom.
Get here as fast as you can, I sent, standing and turning to the door. We need to move before they arrive.
A rush of air displacement at my back spun me around with one hand on the door. Quaid strode out of the flash of blue light, already shedding his black robe, tight jeans and crumpled t-shirt revealed underneath.
“My thought exactly,” he said as he tossed his robe over one arm before stepping into my space.
We didn't have time for—
Made time. For lips like that?
Liam crossed my mind. His control freak mother.
My choice. Quaid's.
All of it, gone under the pressure of demanding lips, the crush of his magic as he pulled me tightly to him, the pulse of his heart under my hands through his thin t-shirt. The heat of his skin, the way his soft hair sifted through my fingers. And his breath.
Inside me.
My demon uncoiled, drew him closer, one leg lifting to hook around his hip. Quaid leaned in, pressing me against the door, big, hot hands under the hem of my shirt, sliding over my back, under the strap of my bra.
Quaid.
Oh dear.
He leaned away, the tip of his nose tracing over my cheekbone before his dark chocolate eyes opened and met mine. Fire burned inside them, fire my demon matched, begged to ignite into a roaring inferno. To forget in him, to be part of something bigger and sweeter and so delicious I knew I could survive anything as long as I had Quaid.
Tears prickled, my throat tightening as I pulled away. That was the problem, wasn't it? I didn't have Quaid.
Never would.
The fire died slowly, pa
infully, my demon turning her back on me in disgust and frustration while Quaid bowed his head, black, wavy hair tossing as he looked away.
“I take it you need me to contact Mia for you.” His voice sounded husky, rough and heavy. I wanted so badly to touch him, to stroke his skin, take his hand, lead him upstairs to my room. But the bubble had broken, the lure's need retreating and the magic we shared between us fading into nothing again.
I thought he was my destiny once. Was told that was the case.
Try as I might, I couldn't seem to shake the feeling no matter how many times I committed to ending it, we'd never be over.
And that broke my heart.
I cleared my throat, stuffing my hands into the back pockets of my jeans to keep from touching him again. “Smart cookie is smart,” I said, lips twitching into a smile. “When did that happen?”
Quaid's wide lips lifted, dark eyes still full of sultry promise though the smirk added a more familiar edge to his appeal. “Hilarious, Hayle,” he said. “Wow, I had no idea you were so funny. You must have been working on it lately.”
It was hard not to giggle. I punched his arm, sighed out the last of my emotional overflow and bobbed my head.
“We'd better get moving,” I said.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
Gram didn't seem at all surprised Quaid was with me when I reentered the kitchen. She fixed him with her faded blue eyes, not moving as he bent over her and soundly kissed her cheek.
“I wouldn't have turned you in, crazy lady,” he said, deep voice rumbling in the quiet.
“Hrumph,” she said, swatting at him, wiping at the place his lips had been like he gave her cooties. But when her gaze met mine, there was a sparkle in it that had been missing since we started our little discussion about the Dumont succession.