Gatekeeper

by Patti Larsen

  Sincerely,

  Sydlynn Hayle

  It hurt so much to sign this latest note. I’d added the sucking up at the end in the hopes it would help. At that point, I didn’t care what I had to write or say if it meant I was finally able to leave the stuffy, heavy air of the room and just go home.

  My demon hissed at me and the fact I’d sold out, but I ignored her as I rose and went to Ms. Spaft for the third time. Her eyes visibly followed my slow shuffle to her desk, head down, gaze on the ground. How did I know she watched me? I could feel it.

  The submissive stance was part of it, I was certain. I handed her the note and stood there quietly while she read it. It seemed like the entire student body behind me collectively held their breath, almost as if my pending opportunity for freedom meant they at last had hope.

  There was a long pause, so long I almost looked up. But I held my ground, fingers crossed, swearing to myself I’d never allow this to happen again.

  I heard Ms. Spaft draw a breath, a sharp and almost angry sound. “Very well, Ms. Hayle,” she said crisply. “This is adequate. Make certain you’re never late for class again.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Spaft.” I had to unlock my jaw to speak, but the words must have come out suitably meek because she waved her hand at me.

  As I turned back to my chair to retrieve my backpack, I caught the group sigh of breath from everyone else. Tension broken, one by one, they began to rise and approach her. My cue to get the hell out of there.

  School air had a particular aroma, a mix of cleaners and mold and too many kids wearing too many kinds of perfume and cologne mixed with the scent of deep fryer grease. But, I can honestly say when I stepped into the hallway and took a deep breath, I’d never smelled anything so sweet.

  It didn’t mean I had a pleasant walk home. Quite to the contrary. I stomped and swore my way down the sidewalk, kicking at every offending stone, every scrap of garbage, even going out of my way to lash out at a trash can with the toe of my sneaker.

  It hurt, but the pain was worth it. I finally released some of my anger, not to mention the very tight lockdown I had on my magic. I shielded so strongly to prevent my power from slipping out, I’d cut myself off from the rest of the world.

  The moment my wards eased, Mom’s mind latched onto mine.

  Where have you been? Anger warred with fear and desperation. I staggered from the weight of the unexpected contact.

  Mom! I started to run for home, only a couple of blocks, panic gripping me as she clung on and wouldn’t let go. What’s wrong?

  Home. Now! She left me abruptly, tearing free so fast I stumbled for the second time. The park flew by until I was at the kitchen door, slamming my way through into chaos.

  Our house was very well shielded, now the source of our family’s magic since our coven site was compromised by the Chosen of the Light. It meant the outside world was protected from whatever happened in it. Meaning, the moment I passed the wards, I was assaulted by so much power my stomach heaved while a headache instantly bloomed between my eyes. I threw up my personal shields again, enough I had some protection from the madness as Mom spun around and glared at me.

  “Where is your grandmother?” She stalked toward me, gripping my arms in her hands, shaking me a little. “Where did she go?”

  Like I even had a remote clue. And, as usual, I took the wrong attitude, fed by my recent experience, though I’m willing to admit it’s pretty likely I would have found my way to mad anyway.

  I jerked free of her, anger bubbling. “How should I know?” I rubbed at where she’d squeezed my skin. Mom was never physical with me. “I’ve been at school, remember?”

  Mom’s anger sagged into fear then back again. “You must know,” she said. “The two of you are so connected. Where is she?”

  Her words finally sank in, as did her state of mind. “Gram’s gone?” My memory flickered to that morning. Mom’s attitude, how Gram alluded to another argument about the Dumonts. How Gram acted. The whole now creepy insistence in her tone when she basically told me she was leaving.

  Why hadn’t I understood what she was telling me? When I got it I sighed out the understanding in a huff of frustration. The magic connection, the power she’d used. It was a spell after all, a way for her to say sayonara without tipping me off.

  Sneaky, crazy, contrary old—

  The dawning fear those words were some kind of goodbye must have shown in my face because Mom instantly seized on the change, if not my person again. “Tell me.”

  I ignored her, instead reaching out for Gram. Usually she was right there, almost too close for comfort. But when I tried to find her, I met only blankness. How had I not noticed she’d gone? Damn it, so obvious. I spent the day cut off. I wouldn’t have been aware the world ended unless someone told me.

  “Syd.” Mom’s voice vibrated. “Where did my mother go?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m sorry. She’s not there anymore.” I touched my temple with one finger. Mom’s face twisted, but I kept going. “She used her power on me, Mom. You know what she’s like.”

  Mom relented a fraction at a time, anger dissolving before me. I reached out to her as my own worry grew. Her fury faded, the real anxiety and fear left behind as she pulled me against her and hugged me.

  “She’ll be okay,” I whispered into Mom’s thick, black hair, savoring her constant scent of lilacs. “Gram was an Enforcer, remember?”

  Mom pulled away, blue eyes full of tears. “She’s gone after Odette.” I knew she was right. It was the most logical choice. The Dumont leader had so much to answer for and still held a horrible grudge against our family for the death of Odette's sister, even though said sister was the cause of her own downfall, not to mention forcing Gram to lose seventeen years of her life to madness.

  “We don’t know that for sure.” Leave it to Dad to try to comfort her. But even he looked slightly embarrassed he’d tried to gloss it over. He met my eyes, his also full of worry.

  Great. Mad grandmother on the loose. This could be very, very bad.

  Or, it could end in Odette’s death and a bit of a celebration.

  I tried to look on the bright side.

  “This is a disaster.” Mom’s anger surged anew. “She has no idea what she’s tampering with.” She turned away from me, face twisting into an expression I barely recognized as hers.

  “Something happened.” I looked back and forth between her and Dad. Mom might have been good at hiding things, but Dad was a sucker.

  “Syd,” he glanced at Mom, the shake of her head before looking back at me. “There have been threats.”

  “What kind of threats?” My power zinged around me, demon and Sidhe coming to my call as my witch magic reached for Mom. She held me off with little effort, the massive family power under her control.

  “Toward us.” Dad’s shoulders sagged. “You, your mother. Your sister.”

  “So what?” My tone was much harsher than I intended, but I was tired of being treated like a kid. “Let them threaten us.”

  Again Dad looked at Mom, as if for permission. I glared at him as he met my eyes at last.

  “Last night…” He reached out and took my hand as he started up again. “Last night a group of vampires spotted someone outside the house.”

  Fear tickled my skin, making goosebumps rise. “Who?”

  “They don’t know,” he said. “But they did find evidence that whoever it was had mischief in mind.”

  Mom growled something under her breath as she began to pace, bare feet making loud slapping sounds on the tiles. “Mischief,” she snarled. “Someone tried to set fire to the house, Syd. And if it wasn’t for Sunny and Anastasia…”

  “You have to go to the Council.” I choked on those words even as they came out.

  “And tell them what?” Mom turned to face me, fury warring with worry in every inch of her body. “Whoever it was,” she stressed the word, letting me know she had no doubt the source of the attack, “didn’t pl
an to use magic.” She stopped abruptly, jaw working. “We found three jerry cans of gasoline behind the hedgerow.”

  “Mom,” I said. “We would have been fine.”

  She didn’t meet my eyes. “I know.” The wards would have protected us. The Dumonts had to know such an attack would get them nowhere.

  Unless they had a plan we weren’t aware of. A way to break through the wards. I shuddered at that. We were witches, yes, but even we could die from smoke inhalation if fire started up while we slept.

  While I turned those thoughts over in my mind, Mom turned to Dad, holding out her hand. He passed over a piece of paper she gave to me. Gram’s scrawl was easily readable, only because I was used to it. Her handwriting hadn’t improved with her return to mostly sanity.

  Miriam,

  Time to balance the scales. My freedom means your freedom, and the girl’s future. Our coven has lived with it for long enough.

  Mom

  Oh crap. I reached out again, allowing the full force of my demon’s magic to assault the blank space between me and Gram. Her barrier fluttered a moment, just long enough for me to get the message.

  I love you.

  Why did it feel so final? I came back to the kitchen and met Mom’s eyes, my vision wavering as it brimmed with moisture.

  “She’s not coming back.”

  The low cry from Mom sounded like physical pain. She clutched her hands in front of her chest as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Damn her,” she whispered. “I’ve only just gotten her back and she pulls a stunt like this.”

  For the first time I saw Mom as a daughter, just like I was. Of course intellectually I understood Gram was her mother. But Mom was always the one in power, in control, so really comprehending Gram and Mom had the same relationship as Mom and I never got through to me. Until now. My whole body trembled as I put myself in Mom’s place. She’d not only lost her mother to madness seventeen years ago, she’d been thrust into taking over a powerful coven well before her time with a small baby to tend. Forced to care for her reduced parent while losing her father to the entire mess, him a traitor to the coven, must have been devastating. Grandfather Ivan was a cousin of the Dumonts, their tool. Mom never talked about him, not once.

  I guess I didn’t blame her.

  And now, after Gram’s return, after having her mother back only a short eight weeks, she was gone again. I stepped forward and hugged Mom as we cried together.

  Dad’s strong arms enveloped both of us, his warm amber magic wrapping us up. Even Mom caved, letting him support her. I was happy for the precious moment of family unity.

  Wasn’t meant to last.

  “I have to go after her.” Mom pulled away, sadness gone, anger back, coven leader reasserting herself. “She’s going to start a war that could mean the end of our coven.”

  “Maybe not,” I said. “What if she knows what she’s doing?” I thought of Quaid’s warning and was about to bring it up when Mom’s rage fired up again and turned on me.

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” She retreated from me, physically and magically, arms twining around herself as she cut off both Dad and me. “This is a disaster.”

  “Excuse me,” I snapped, button pushing polished to a high sheen over years of experience and practice, “but I think you’re forgetting something.”

  “What’s that?” Fury crackled along the edges of her words.

  “You and everyone else have always underestimated her.” Mom’s whole body jerked, like I’d slapped her, face very pale. “That’s right,” I went on, steam rolling my way over her feelings and any chance I had to turn this around to a positive ending. “You never once believed her when she was crazy, that she was trying to help us.” Not really accurate and entirely unfair, but it hardly mattered at the moment. “She’s been stronger and smarter and more aware all along than anyone ever thought. Tried to warn us, fought through insanity so thick she could barely reach us, saved our asses at risk to what little connection she had to herself.” I saw Mom’s grief return, now flavored with a healthy dose of guilt. Good. She should feel guilty. I knew I did. “So maybe, just for once, you could trust your mother might have a freaking clue.”

  I didn’t wait for Mom to say anything, and shoved past Dad’s reaching hands on my way to my room.

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  When I stomped into my room, I realized I wasn’t alone. Not an uncommon occurrence, except my two visitors didn’t offer their usual greetings. Instead, Sassafras crept to the edge of the bed, his ears flat sideways, pupils swollen, almost blacking out the amber of his eyes. Whiskers drooping and tail dragging behind him, he slowly raised one paw toward me. I lifted him into my arms immediately, hugging him as he burrowed his wet nose into my neck.

  “It’s going to be okay.” I stroked his soft, silver fur, speaking directly to the huge black dog curled up in a miserable ball at the foot of the bed. Galleytrot didn’t even lift his head, just swiped one giant paw over his nose. “Honest.”

  “This is very bad, Syd.” Sassy looked up, paws resting on my collarbone so we were eye-to-eye. “She could start something we won’t be able to finish.”

  “Gram’s way smarter than that.” And despite the day I’d had, even through my own worry and guilt and anger, I was absolutely convinced of it. “She would never do anything to hurt the coven or us.”

  “But what about Ethpeal herself?” Galleytrot’s rumbling voice was deep and heavy, triggering a taste in the back of my throat like a pending rain. “What if they catch her?”

  “Hurt her.” Sassy finished it for him in a whisper. “Syd, they could kill her. Then what will happen to Miriam? What will it do to your mother?”

  I sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching Sassy to me with one hand while I scratched Galleytrot’s head with the other. The silver Persian finally hopped down only to curl up so close to me he could rest his chin in my lap.

  “Then we deal with it when the time comes.” Galleytrot’s big noggin joined Sassy’s until my jeans were entirely hidden from view by a mix of black and silver hair. I let my power out, embracing both of them with it and the absolute certainty everything was as it should be. It felt funny to be comforting them. Galleytrot was a Fey dog of the Wild Hunt after all. He was pretty much immortal. And Sassy was usually the one bossing me around, telling me how things would be.

  When had the balance of power shifted? When did I turn into a grown up?

  I must have convinced them, because they both relaxed. Enough they retreated, at least, leaving me covered in fur and wanting to change my jeans immediately.

  My choice to stay out of sight seemed to be the right one as well. Mom and Dad didn’t come hunting for me, to my relief. And I figured staying out of the way until she settled down was the best course of action.

  It wasn’t until dusk I descended back downstairs, Sassy and Galleytrot at my side. I glanced at Meira’s door, saw it open, felt for her. She wasn’t home, and probably just as well.

  My only reason for facing Mom again had nothing to do with her and everything to do with the two vampires who appeared at our front door the moment the sun was gone from the horizon. There had been a brief time when my Uncle Frank and his undead girlfriend Sunny weren’t allowed to enter the house, a concession Mom granted the coven after everything we’d been through. But the restriction was lifted with the events of the past summer.

  I’d not seen much of Uncle Frank, not since the near disaster that almost took his life. And while he survived being staked out into the sun, he’d been left with visible proof of the damage. The right side of his face was as flawless as it ever was, his handsome, boyish looks topped off with a brilliant blue eye. But the other side was now melted slag, as if made of overheated wax, gaping red and horrible in places.

  I forced myself to look at him every single time and remind myself he hadn’t changed. He was still my amazing Uncle Frank.

  I just wished he believed it.

 
“What’s happened?” Gone was the gentle, happy, kind person I knew, who treated me more like a little sister, my constant advocate. In his place stood a sullen, angry vampire, antagonism barely veiled behind his words.

  Sunny hovered behind him, as poised and beautiful as ever. But when her eyes flickered to meet mine, I saw the pain clearly. Because she let me see it, if only for an instant.

  “Mother.” Mom handed Uncle Frank the note. He scanned it before shrugging.

  “She’s gone after them.” He sounded like he was all for it. “And?”

  Mom let out an exasperated sigh, sharp and angry. “We have to find her.”

  When he laughed, there was no amusement in the sound, only jagged edges and darkness.

  “Good luck.” He handed the note back to my mother who hesitated before taking it. “You should know better. Once Mom has her mind on something, nothing can change it. And this last attack by the Dumonts was the trigger she needed to finally ignore you.” Was that a slight softening of his expression? An old memory intruding, had to be. Something curving up what remained of his lips. But the moment was gone so fast I almost wished he hadn’t showed anything.

  Before Mom could argue, however, he had an about face. “I’ll go after her.” His body jerked as though saying it warred against something inside him.

  “We both will.” Mom’s tone said she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  “You can’t just leave the coven,” he snapped. “Let me handle it.”

  Mom’s jaw ground sideways. “I have to,” she said. “You won’t be able to stop her.”

  They faced off like Mom just slapped him. Which she kind of had. After all, the reason Uncle Frank was a vampire was because he couldn’t live with the fact he was born without witchcraft.

  “Fine.” He glared at her. “It’s your coven.”

  “It is,” she said, blunt and brutal. “And my decision.” She shook her head. “As if I’d trust the two of you out there, chasing the Dumonts.”

  Uncle Frank flinched, really showing his own anger. “I’ve been good, haven’t I?” A fleck of moisture burst out of the gap in his ruined cheek. “Stayed put, been a nice vampire, not chased down the little bitch and torn her throat out with my bare hands?”