by Patti Larsen
Gatekeeper
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty One
Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Five
Chapter Twenty Six
Chapter Twenty Seven
Chapter Twenty Eight
Chapter Twenty Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty One
Chapter Thirty Two
Chapter Thirty Three
Chapter Thirty Four
Chapter Thirty Five
Chapter Thirty Six
Chapter Thirty Seven
Chapter Thirty Eight
Chapter Thirty Nine
Chapter One
Gatekeeper
Book Six of the Hayle Coven Novels
Patti Larsen
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 by Patti Larsen
Find out more about Patti Larsen at
http://www.pattilarsen.com/
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***
Cover art (copyright) by Stephanie Mooney. All rights reserved.
http://www.stephaniemooney.blogspot.com/
Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/***
Dedication
To my life long friend, Valerie Bellamy, for her
unwavering friendship and for following
her own passions—I’m so proud of you!
***
Chapter One
There is nothing more frustrating than staring at a blinking cursor when you want it to move. I just wanted it to start flashing, the little pen to pop up so I would know the person on the other end was writing a message. Something. Anything.
I’d been spending a lot of time staring at the stupid thing lately. Too much, really. But it was a compulsion I couldn’t shake. Not when there was a chance Quaid might finally contact me.
Pathetic, I know, I know. It’s not like I was the kind of girl to hang on her boyfriend’s every movement, word or contact. But the circumstances of our relationship were a little… odd to say the least. I was stuck here in Wilding Springs on pins and needles, safe and sound with my family and coven while he was out there, alone and vulnerable, playing a very dangerous game of cat and mouse with his birth family. And all because he had a score to settle.
Settling scores I understood intimately. I’d had my own to deal with in the last year since we moved to this quiet town in Pennsylvania. Things like having my demon stolen from my by a demented sorcerer who thought witches were evil, seeing my dad’s life go from one of power as a Demon Lord to the life of a mere mortal. Living through the loss of our family magic to an evil witch it turned out wasn’t out of our lives yet.
Speak of the devil herself, Batsheva Moromond was the very reason my boyfriend was off pretending to be a good little Dumont and not with me.
I sighed and rested my chin on my fist, swiveling back and forth on my chair, eyes locked on the screen as the time on the clock switched to 12:36am. As if my worry about him wasn’t enough to deal with, I had school in the morning. The first day of grade twelve loomed. And though it had been a quiet summer, a whole month and a half that felt like years, since the Enforcers came to prevent Mom from destroying Odette Dumont and her whole crappy family, I couldn’t help but spend every day waiting for the next shoe to drop. After all, my life hadn’t exactly been peaceful for quite some time now, so as calm as things had been, my constant state of tension kind of killed the benefits.
My eyes glazed over as I pondered what this year would be like. Hopefully more relaxed than the last. I’d had just about enough of the Chosen of the Light trying to burn me at the stake, evil witches attacking my family, the Sidhe rising to destroy the world and ancient witches infected with two god complexes and a serious case of multiple personality disorder.
I was so wrapped up in my memories, I almost missed it when the pen popped up and began to bob up and down. The flickering of it finally jerked me alert and I sat, nose almost touching the screen, fingers drumming on the tabletop as I waited impatiently for Quaid to finish writing.
For one brief, horrible moment I panicked. What if it wasn’t Quaid? What if the Dumonts found out he was using them as a means to get to his adoptive parents so he could destroy them? Heart in my throat, I squeaked a little as the message popped up at last.
What are you still doing up?
A giggle escaped. Definitely Quaid.
Wondering if you are going to finally get around to talking to me. Two could play the smartass game.
The pen bobbed. Desperate doesn’t look good on you.
Jerk. So why did I catch myself grinning?
Pity, you mean. Figured you could use some normal company.
No pen. No pen. No pen. Where did he go?
When the pen finally moved again, it seemed like forever.
Syd, my love, you have no idea.
Okay, so now I was crying. No fair at all.
You can come back. He was right, damn him. Desperation struck me like a blow. We can do this together.
But it was an old argument already, one we had every time he contacted me. I’ll be back soon.
We spent the next few minutes sparring, but my heart wasn’t in it anymore and I could tell from the half-formed snarks he sent his wasn’t either.
I can’t talk long. A frowny face followed his words. But I wanted to warn you. Something big is coming.
What? I’d have to tell Mom, naturally. And Gram. Who still insisted I not trust Quaid despite the fact I knew he wasn’t a real Dumont.
I’m not sure. When I know, you’ll know. But tell your mother, this isn’t over yet.
Not surprising. Odette had been holding a grudge since she and Gram were girls together. That kind of hate, over an entire lifetime, was bound to lead to more trouble.
Just be careful. I had to shake out my hands before I went on from the tension in them. And watch your back.
The pen was silent. And didn’t return no matter how long I stared at it.
Which meant it was at least an hour before I went to bed and almost as long before I was able to sleep. There had to be a reason he logged off suddenly. I couldn’t read too much into it. It happened before, when he had to shut down because someone was coming. But my mind loved to weave stories, dark and scary stories which either ended with Quaid dying or me unleashing all of my power, demon, witch and Sidhe, on the Dumonts.
I preferred the latter, but the former typically won.
Frustrated, afraid and caught up in my fear, I finally fell asleep.
***
The Gate awaits me, shining splendor glowing in the pa
le light. I look up, see the moon hanging over me, full and bloated, speaking a promise of freedom.
The Gate begins to hum a welcome as I move closer, calling me. But as I draw near, a great tension takes over, a suffocating terror growing, fed by the call of the Gate and the moon, until I cry out for it to end.
***
You’d think I’d be used to waking from bad dreams. Yeah, I wish. The cold sweat and panting wasn’t fun, but at least it was familiar. It took about five full minutes for my heart to slow, my breathing to return to normal. Luckily I was alone, so no stupid questions to answer while I pulled myself together. I typically had two roommates, my silver Persian, Sassafras with his demon’s soul and the Fey dog, Galleytrot. But I banished them the night before, knowing Quaid was due to contact me and not wanting a peanut gallery watching everything I wrote to him.
Shaylee, my Sidhe third, whispered to me, but I already knew it was her dream we just had. Despite my attempts to coax her to tell me what it was about and ask if I should worry, she fell silent and very still. And it’s not like I’d ever been able to out and out talk to her like I did with my demon. Now we were all one person, their voices were all mixed up with mine, making communication pretty tough. Still, she could have tried harder, in my opinion, instead of just ignoring me.
Okay then, princess. Have it your way.
The sun cleared the edge of my window and hit me right in the eyes, drawing out a groan. Morning, really? I decided to let the dream go for now. I had other things to worry about.
Hello, grade twelve. Please, don’t suck.
***
Chapter Two
Bleary eyed and grumpy, I trudged to the bathroom door, reaching for the knob before thudding full on into the wooden barrier with my entire body. Locked. Locked? Oh yeah, my little sister was back from camp. I’d gotten used to not sharing a bathroom with her since she’d been gone all summer. And since she’d barely said two words to me since she arrived home yesterday, and with the whole Quaid worry thing on my mind, I’d forgotten I was back to waiting on a nine year old to do her stuff.
Hang on, make it ten. Meira had a birthday just before she left, right? I sighed and leaned my forehead against the door. My whole life ran together in a mix of disaster and every day, so much I could barely keep anything straight.
“Hang on!” Wow, that sounded snippy. I backed off, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over my chest.
“Sorry.” A yawn gaped. “I forgot you were home.”
Way to be mean to your sister, Syd. I winced and rushed on. “Want to go for ice cream after school? You can tell me all about camp.” She’d missed out on the summer’s festivities, what with the Dumont’s visit and the attack on our coven and all.
The door unlocked, swinging open. I found myself gaping, shock freezing my brain, but not my tongue.
“What the hell happened to you?”
Again, not the best thing to say. But my surprise was understandable. Since when did Meira, my adorable and sweet little sister, wear makeup? Eyeliner, mascara, eye shadow, blush… she looked like a perfectly painted doll-child on one of those beauty queen shows. Even her normally curly black hair was poker straight, a thick fringe of bangs hanging over her fluttering lashes. She made ten look like twenty.
From the anger in her blue eyes, I’d stepped in it.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She stuck out one hip, hand artfully resting on it, like she was posing. My heart skipped, stomach clenching. She reminded me of the mean girls at school.
No, no, no. Not my sister. And wait a minute—was that my sweater she had on?
“Since when do you wear makeup?” It was hard to move past the flabbergast I found myself caught up in. I barely wore the stuff and I was seventeen.
“Since I decided to start.” She tossed her head, hair rippling. It was so much longer now it was straight. “Like it’s any of your business.”
Shock left. Anger took its place, yup yup.
“It’s my business when you’re wearing my clothes.” She actually flushed a little. Hang on, she flushed? But… that's when it hit me. My sister, like myself, was half demon. Only she had the added gift of looking like one. Amber eyes, reddish skin, cute little horns. Meira only disguised her real self when she had to leave the house, preferring to just be Meira.
So why then did she look human?
“Fine.” She spun away from me, flouncing down the hallway to her bedroom. The door slammed before opening a moment later, my sweater thrown down the hall at me before she slammed it closed again.
I tried to be mad. But sad found its way to the surface. As I bent to retrieve my sweater from the floor, I found myself wondering what the hell happened at the damned camp. And what did they do to Meira?
I was showered, changed and ready for school and I still hadn’t decided what to do about her. I found myself looking at my reflection in the mirror, my ponytail, the basic makeup I wore barely making it past mascara and lip-gloss. Meira used to look up to me. Now I felt like I’d missed something important.
There was no sign of Sassy so I couldn’t ask him. If he didn’t sleep with me, he was with Meira. I knocked on her closed door, peeking in when there was no answer, but her room was empty. Fine, I’d track down the furball later and find out what he knew.
In the meantime, I had to get to school.
Sunlight poured into the kitchen, almost too warm. It seemed unfair to have to be stuck in class when the weather was still so amazing. I found Mom at the table in her usual flowing skirt and blouse, sipping a cup of coffee, her gaze far away.
“Mom.” I kissed her cheek on the way to the toaster. “Have you talked to Meira?”
She ignored me.
“Mom.” I waved a little. “Hello, Mom.”
She finally glanced over, as if startled to find me there. “Syd. Good morning, sweetheart.”
I frowned at her as my pair of toast popped up. “You okay?”
She immediately smiled, her old coven leader smile, the one telling me she was about to lie her face off. “Fine, honey. What are you up to today?”
Oh boy. Something was really off. My frown took on definite scowl properties as I pointed at her with the tip of my peanut butter covered knife. “Don’t hand me that crap. Something’s up.”
The skin around her eyes tightened. Button successfully pushed. “Not everything is your business, young lady.”
“It is when my coven leader is worried.” No way was she keeping me out. “What’s going on?”
Mom’s anger simmered just below the surface. So weird, really. We hadn’t been fighting lately. And her present state of mind seemed less because of me than aimed at me as a convenient target. “Don’t you have school today?”
Nice. So classic. “Way to dodge me, Mom,” I snapped. “Really grown up.”
That sent sparks through her blue eyes so bright I worried her head might explode. “Have fun on your first day, dear.” The edge to her voice sounded like an order. Mom stood up and left without another word.
No she did not. I sighed and roughly abused my toast with the knife until I had a crumbling mess on my plate. Yum. Appetizing. It didn't matter. I wasn’t hungry anymore.
I was scraping the remains into the garbage disposal when Dad walked through the kitchen door. I turned to him, realizing he’d probably just dropped off Meira. Perfect, someone I could ask who wasn’t in bitchy witch mode.
“Hey, Dad.” He glanced up, offered a little smile, blue eyes catching the light of the sun. It always amazed me how poised he seemed, despite the eternal sadness I saw in him. It hovered around him, growing thicker and more tangible every day. I found myself going to him, hugging him, wishing the hug he gave me back had more enthusiasm behind it.
“Did you talk to Meira about camp?” I looked up, met his eyes, but his were as empty of the present as Mom’s. “Dad.”
His chin dropped, gaze meeting mine again. “Have a great day, honey.” Dad left me there, going straight to t
he basement door and down the stairs, out of sight.
Ignoring Syd seemed to be a family pastime this morning. I turned away, switched on the disposal, looking out the window into the blue sky and sunshine. Maybe school would go better.
As I turned around, I came face to face with Gram. I let out a little shriek, clutching my chest with one hand, heart pumping. She grinned at me, faded blue eyes sparkling.
“Jumpy,” she said, head cocked to one side.
I wanted to be mad at her, but there was something about my grandmother that always disarmed me. Instead of being annoyed, I found my heart swelling as I reached out and hugged her, planting a big smooch on her cheek. She giggled and tickled me and I pulled away, but she couldn’t hide the tears brimming in her eyes when we parted, both laughing.
Then the idea hit me. Mom wasn’t mad at me. But she was mad at someone. And I was pretty sure now I knew who had flipped her anger switched before I had the chance to.
“Gram,” I said, “did you piss off Mom again?”
Her eyes rolled, lips quivering as she did a little flapping dance with her hands. “It’s too easy,” she whispered before cackling.
That made me giggle again. “You should warn a body,” I said.
Gram shrugged, looked away. Her shoulders tightened as she crossed her thin arms over her chest. “Things aren’t going my way,” she growled, her sudden shift in emotion not shocking, considering I was used to her mercurial ways. Didn’t mean it didn’t bother me.
“I hate it when that happens.” My tone was light, but I meant every word.
Her head whipped around, eyes locking on mine, mouth in a thin, grim line. “So do I, Syd.” She sighed then, deep and long.
It wasn’t hard to guess what they fought about, so I took a stab at it. “You know you can’t just go after the Dumonts, Gram.”
She made a tsking sound and bounced on her toes. “Hush, Miriam.” She winked at me though, so I knew she wasn’t losing it again. “I’m very well aware of what I can and cannot do, thank you. But I wonder if your mother is aware of how much danger we are still in. All because she won’t let me act.”