Jake hung up and shook his head. Could he believe? His father believed it, and was bitter about not having any of the talent and jealous of Jake’s potential. Rory had said his talent was persuasion. As he looked back on his life, he realised that was right. He could persuade people, particularly when they were in the room with him.
It was around midnight by the time Jake was ready to face Gregor. The turmoil he’d experienced earlier was easing, but he was unwilling to stride into this new life. The mental adjustment didn’t come easily. He thought having an extended family was pretty out there, but a magical family, and him a warlock? Well, he might need a few more beers before that made any sense.
Gregor was waiting for him when he came back to the house. ‘It’s not all bad, son. Your father didn’t have any talent. He hated that. Now if you take a seat, we’ll start on cleaning up that spell.’
Jake nodded numbly and sat on the deckchair. Gregor wasn’t going to hurt him, he was pretty certain of that, and insanity wasn’t contagious. ‘Look at the moon to keep you occupied. Talk to me if you feel strange.’
The waxing crescent moon rode scudding clouds. From nowhere, he sensed heat in his body. It was as if someone was strumming their hot fingers across the surface of his mind. He experienced tugs, and then was suddenly lighter in those spaces. Each time he commented, Gregor’s voice soothed him.
He was still in the chair when the sun rose over the lake. Gregor sat with his head in his hands. ‘That’s enough for now. You have been through shit, Jake. I can see why the spell fractured like that, leaving sticky grime clinging to you. We’ll need a few more sessions before you start feeling right.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jake was exhausted but he was also afraid that someone had seen into the lonely boy he had been.
‘He loved you, but he was never good at showing it.’
Ah, Jake thought. He did see into me. He swallowed and then lifted his head to meet Gregor’s gaze. ‘I don’t believe he does. Even last night he was full of anger and jealousy.’
Gregor nodded wearily, and slapped him on the knee. ‘Rest now. This afternoon we’ll go out on the lake, and see what else we can do about your inner landscape. There’s years of gunk layered in there.’
Jake did go to bed. He dreamed of Elena, and those dreams were no longer tinged with despair. He was still confused by what had happened, but he no longer blamed her. Now he actually believed her about the spell, about her misgivings, about her feelings.
Now he wanted to see her again, to test out his feelings — and hers.
Chapter 19
On Thursday, Elena picked up Jake’s coat from the drycleaners with the intention of returning it to him. The past few days in her house had been long and lonely and miserable. The only highlight had been practising some of the spells from Grace’s books.
Every day, Grace came for a quick visit. Mainly, she came to bring some fresh food and provide chitchat, because Elena didn’t care a hoot about her own health or mental wellbeing in the state she was in.
Elena had never been so low, and it was the pits. She should pull herself out of it, but found it hard to pick up where she had left off — before Jake.
Aunt Elvira sent invitations to take tea that Elena didn’t accept. She wasn’t quite up to the social thing. She wasn’t angry with her aunt, but she had a lot to digest about herself, about her parentage, and about suffering in general.
It took her most of the morning to get ready. She shampooed her hair and blow-waved it so it was glossy and straight. She put on a little bit of make-up, some shadow to her eyes and some light colour to her lips. The irony was that she wanted to look like she’d made an effort, but not too much of one. The state of her make-up would not be the thing that swung this for her.
Pulling out her notebook, she checked off and rehearsed everything she wanted to say to Jake while her nail polish dried. When she thought she had that right, she contemplated her wardrobe. This only set off memories of that scene on the roof of the building where her dress blew away. Perhaps pants would be better.
Her hand passed over the green dress she’d worn the first time they’d met. Yes, that was it. She slipped it on and found a pair of strappy shoes to go with it. At least her feet had healed. After climbing all those stairs, she’d been hardly able to walk for the next couple of days. Her healing spells and lazing around in bed had helped that.
It was sprinkling rain that greeted her as she left the house. She put up her daisy-patterned umbrella, and swung the coathanger with the plastic cover protecting Jake’s jacket over her shoulder as she headed to the wharf. Luckily, she had timed her walk so the ferry pulled up as she arrived.
Once on the ferry she took a spot close to the prow. Her eyes ate up the view of the harbour. She listened to the waves, allowing the motion to soothe her nerves.
She wholeheartedly wished her stomach would stop churning. What was the worst that could happen? He’d still hate her, and that was no change from now. Thinking that way was the only method to calm her mind, and accept the possible outcome of her meeting with Jake.
As long as she had managed to get what she wanted to say off her chest, it would be a good outcome emotionally for both of them, at least.
Once she’d arrived in Circular Quay, she walked slowly toward Jake’s building. Pedestrians pushed past her or cut and swerved to avoid bumping into her. It was bad manners to walk slowly in the crowd, but it was all she could do to keep herself together. Her heart beat double time. Her stomach was a pincushion. She stopped in the street when she caught sight of those doors and lifted her head to take in the top of the building.
Someone bumped into her, and then another person.
‘Sorry,’ she said, and then rejoined the flow of pedestrians. She should have known better than to stop dead still in a crowded street.
As she neared the doors, she angled herself out of the pedestrian flow and spilled into the doorway. The revolving door swallowed her and then spat her out on the other side.
The green marble flooring reminded her of the last time she’d crossed the entry foyer. She closed down those recollections and walked to the lift. The security guard gave her a curious look as she passed by, but did not request she sign a register or ask her business. There were a lot of firms sharing the building. She supposed they all had their own security and reception arrangements.
The lift arrived at the 35th floor. In a few steps, she would be at his office.
She hovered in the corridor, peering through the glass doors. Pen was at work, talking on the phone. When the assistant finished talking, she pushed open the doors.
Pen looked up, her mouth dropping open. ‘Miss Denholm?’
‘Please, call me Elena. I’ve come to see Jake to return this.’ She lifted the dry cleaning bag off her shoulder. ‘Is he free?’
‘He’s not with you?’ Pen’s expression looked troubled, her eyebrows drawn low.
‘No?’
‘Oh dear.’ Pen chewed her lip as her gaze went to the phone.
‘What is it?’ A sudden surge of panic hit her. What if he was still suicidal after all? What if the ordeal had been too much for him?
She tried to sort through everything. He’d worked all night after the end of the spell. She spotted a chair and sat down before she collapsed. He had to be all right. It had to be something else. Please, goddess, let it be something else.
Pen rose up from her chair and came around the desk. ‘I haven’t seen or heard from him all week. Remember, I called you?’
Nausea enveloped Elena and a fine sweat broke out on her forehead. Pen took the dry cleaning bag from her limp hand and hung it up. Then she passed her a glass of water. ‘Are you okay?’
Elena drank the water and took a few breaths. ‘I’m fine.’ She put her head forward into her hands. This was not what she was expecting. Rejection yes, yelling maybe, but no Jake? She shifted her gaze to the woman. ‘Are you saying you don’t know where he is?’
Pen nod
ded and rubbed her chin. ‘You see, I didn’t quite believe you when you said he wasn’t with you. Jake’s never taken time off work for a woman. Seeing he skipped a day or so, it only seemed natural to take more.’ Her intent gaze appraised Elena. ‘You’re the first. I’m surprised and pleased. He’s been a hard-hearted bastard…sorry…for too long now. It was nice to see that he had some heart after all, could feel some kind of attachment.’
‘He did say he’d had a lot of women.’
Pen nodded. ‘Huh, that’s right. He didn’t care much for them, other than as objects. Yet you seemed different. I thought…well…maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight at all. Oh lord, where has he got to?’
Elena reached out and touched the other woman’s hand. ‘Please don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine. We had a misunderstanding.’
Elena could sense through the skin-on-skin contact Pen’s genuine worry for Jake. Love, but not passion. ‘I’m sure he’ll turn up soon,’ Elena said, as comfortingly as she could manage.
Pen’s eyes were teary. She reached for a tissue and blew her nose. ‘But it’s not like him to clear out. He did a week’s work in one night, and then left. He left a scribbled note to say he was going away for a few days. Security said he left with some bloke before seven a.m. Monday.’
‘Young or old?’ Not Drew again. Surely he wouldn’t be so vindictive as to come back to kidnap Jake. But he’d kidnapped her, without a second thought or apology. There was no telling what Drew would do.
Pen shrugged. ‘Sorry, I didn’t ask.’
Elena collected herself and stood up. ‘I’d better go.’ She needed to contact Drew and make sure Jake’s disappearance had nothing to do with him. Maybe Rory would be the better choice.
‘Sure.’ She handed Elena her folded umbrella, which she had dropped as she came in.
Pen held the door for her. ‘Look,’ Elena said as she paused on the threshold, ‘would it be possible to let me know when he’s back?’
Pen shrugged. ‘If I can. He’s my boss and…well…you know, if he says no…’
Elena lowered her head and stepped through the door. Pen stuck her head out. ‘You know you’re good for him. You lighten his spirit.’
‘Sure I do.’ Elena chuckled.
‘No, you do. He gave me a raise and a bonus this week. I haven’t had one of those in a while. He’s not stingy or anything like that. He doesn’t think about it.’
The lift arrived. ‘Thank you. I hope you hear from him soon.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
The lift doors shut. Elena leant against the rear of the elevator car, trying to stop the flow of tears. That was not what she’d been expecting. Where was Jake? Was he safe? How was she going to bear another day of this misery? She needed to tell him how she felt, even if he threw it back at her.
By the time she made it out to the street, it was pouring, hard. She hung back under the pediment of the building to wait it out. She checked her watch; there was some breathing space before the ferry home.
She needn’t have bothered. She was saturated before she made the ferry, and the trip across the harbour was uncomfortable. As she was already wet, the wind managed to chill her to the bone. She supposed if her talent was better developed she could have deflected the weather like more gifted folk could do. Feeling low meant she didn’t care about being wet. It suited her mood.
On entering her house, her reflection greeted her. Her hair was wet and straggly, her dress stained by rain. Washed out and pale. Great.
There was no answer from her father’s number. A quick call to Grace and she found no one had heard from Drew, either. It was as though he’d scampered away after his attempted abduction.
After saving her father’s number in her phone, she sent him a text. Jake’s missing. I’m worried.
Straight away, a text came in. Jake’s fine. Don’t worry.
Gaping at the phone, she leant against the breakfast bar. How did her father know about Jake?
A big sigh of relief fled out of her. She tried calling her father again, but he didn’t pick up. Glaring at the phone, she tossed it on the sofa. She was still in her wet clothes and began to shiver.
‘This calls for a bath,’ she said to herself, and went to run one. As the water flowed in, she tossed in some bath salts, a blend she had made herself of lavender, rose geranium and jojoba. Inhaling it, the floral essences caressed her mind and her aching body.
Staring at the ceiling through the steam did little to help her mind settle. Afterwards, she stood at the door to the spare room. There were a lot of orders to fill, but her heart wasn’t in it. Turning her back on her work, she went to bed for a nap. Surprisingly, she had no trouble getting off to sleep.
A few hours later, Fel leaped up onto the bed with a screech. Drowsily, she lifted her head. ‘Fel what now?’
Hungry, the cat thought at her.
‘You can’t be; you’re dead.’
The cat snuck over and licked her face. ‘Oh, stop. I’m sleeping.’ She put the sheet over her head. Fel settled herself on top of it. Elena dozed back off to sleep. The rain had stopped.
Some hours later there was a tickle in her mind, and then pins and needles in her feet and hands. There was a warlock hovering on the perimeter of her ward. Bolting upright, she sent Fel flying with an indignant yowl.
Careful! That hurt.
‘Sorry,’ she said as she threw on some clothes and opened the front door. Under the streetlight stood Rory Penderton, her father. It was rather late but she lowered the ward and he walked up to her, put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.
‘It’s good to see you.’
Stepping back to let him inside, she got a sense of excitement and tension from him.
‘What is it? What’s going on?’
Fel slunk around his feet and he looked down. ‘I heard about your cat. It looks alive, but I thought…’
‘Yes, it’s an undead cat, with an identity crisis.’ She knelt down. ‘Out you go, Fel, and find a big fat rat to nibble on.’
She eased the cat outside and shut the door, leaning against it to gaze at her father.
‘So, tell me.’
He grinned. ‘Make me a coffee. I’ll tell you all about it.’
Her father made himself comfortable on the sofa while she faced the horrible coffee machine. Since Jake had fixed it, though, it wasn’t nearly as scary as it used to be.
She carefully brought the coffee over and handed it to him. He inhaled appreciatively.
‘Ah that’s good. I feel like I’ve been in the wilderness.’
‘Have you been away? With Drew?’
His expression clouded. ‘Drew,’ he said. ‘I did see him. That’s another story.’
‘Well what is it? I can tell something has got you wound up.’
‘I went north.’
‘North?’
‘Lake Macquarie, to be precise. There’s a coven up there.’
Elena chewed on her bottom lip. Drew had mentioned a group in the north. She tilted her head, her expression curious.
‘A while back, when I was young, there was a big division in the coven. A group left Sydney and set up a coven for themselves around the lake.’
‘You told me to not to worry. Does this coven have anything to do with Jake?’
‘Yes,’ he replied.
‘So tell me,’ she said, clenching her hands.
‘He came with me. I took him to the lake.’
Elena’s face creased up in a frown. ‘You took him to the lake? Why, for goddess sake? Do you know his assistant has been out of her mind with worry?’
‘I’m sorry his people were worried. He left a note, so I thought that would be sufficient. I didn’t think he’d stay so long.’
Elena’s mind was reeling. Jake had spent the week with her father. Why?
‘Apparently it’s not normal for him to just disappear. He has a busy law practice.’
Her father shrugged. ‘It was worth the w
orry, believe me.’
Questions tumbled over one another in her head. She didn’t know where to start.
‘Tell me what is going on.’
‘There was a warlock named Royston among those that left our coven. Gregor Royston married a human woman. Created quite a stir by doing so. He thumbed his nose at the establishment here, and helped establish the new coven.’
‘But there’s no rule against marrying a human.’
‘No, not now and not then. But there was pressure to keep the bloodlines pure and conserve talent. Royston was a big talent, and a lot of pressure was brought to bear. He didn’t like it, not one bit. Contact was lost after that. I mean, we knew they were there, this other coven, but it was not discussed.’
‘Royston…so you’re saying Jake’s a descendent of this warlock?’
‘Yes, but that’s not my story to tell.’
Elena clenched her fist until her nails dug into her palm. ‘So, what can you tell me?’
‘You’ve heard the rumours of the dark witch of the north?’
Elena nodded. ‘Vaguely.’
‘I met her.’
She cast her glance up and down. ‘You’re still whole, so I’m taking it she didn’t turn you into a toad.’
Rory Penderton laughed, and then grew serious. ‘She is your mother.’
Elena’s eyes widened. ‘My mother is the dark witch of the north? You’re kidding me. Aunt Elvira tried to tell me but I laughed in her face. How is it possible that my mother is a dark witch?’
Rory lowered his gaze. ‘It was good to know she was alive, at least. For years I’ve wondered what became of her. I thought she killed herself from remorse…’
Elena couldn’t help feeling excited. Her mother had been found — the mother who had abandoned her. ‘What did she say? Did she ask about me?’
Rory reached out and took her hand, his eyes darkening. ‘We did talk about you. She is glad you are with Elvira. She said you were meant to be.’
‘Does she want to see me?’
Rory squeezed her hand. ‘No. I’m sorry, she doesn’t.’
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