by Patti Larsen
Not true! I threw myself forward, but, as was my fate these days, I was too late to catch him. With a flare of blue flames that singed my skin as I tried to hold him, Quaid was gone.
***
Chapter Thirty One
I stood there, staring at the place where my husband had been, hands still grasping the empty air, heart collapsed in my chest. It wasn’t until something nudged my hip I looked down, breaking the spell I’d created around myself, a moment in which I could believe what happened hadn’t just.
Galleytrot’s dark eyes burned with red fire as he growled softly. “Syd,” he said. “How could you?” And padded away toward the kid’s rooms, leaving me to crumple, at last, under the weight of all of my grief.
But Mom was there to catch me. Her arms around me, guiding me to the sofa, her hands stroking my hair, rubbing my back, voice whispering kindly, the scent of lilacs taking me back in time to when I was a girl and everything was easier, simpler.
Before I ruined the lives of those I loved.
I finally pulled myself together, wiping tears from my face. “Mom,” I said, voice cracking. “How could I have messed this up so badly?”
Mom stroked my hair back from my face. “I used to ask your father the same question about you. I thought I’d done damage I could never repair. But we figured it out, Syd.”
I shook my head, leaning forward, face in my hands, elbows on my knees. “I have to make this right.” Poor Quaid. How could he think such a thing? Fear fluttered, the old worry about him, about me. So many times we’d lost each other. I’d thought we’d finally have our happily ever after. But now…
Dear elements. What now?
“Quaid will cool off,” Mom said. “And Gabriel will be fine. He’s suffered a trauma, Syd. But he has a vast and complex power, one we both know he’s been given for a reason.” She sighed, settled back into the cushions. “Now you understand just how difficult it is to raise children of magic. And how hard it is to make the choices that will not only keep them safe, but in Gabriel’s case, the very Universe. Quaid was wrong, sweetheart. I, of all people, understand. You have no choice.” She pulled me toward her again, kissing my forehead as she hugged me. “You had no choice.”
I rose from the couch without answering her. I just didn’t have anything to say. Hadn’t I been telling myself the same thing all along? How was I supposed to balance being a mom with being the Light One, especially when one of my kids seemed to have all the answers to the threat facing our Universe? It wasn’t fair. My son wasn’t a tool. But Gabriel was the Gateway.
Confused and hurting, I went to his door. Found Galleytrot on the bed, my son curled up against him, asleep. And Ethie on the other side, arm flung over her brother’s shoulder. It took me a long moment before I could convince my feet to move, to go to my children. Galleytrot glared at me, but I ignored him. Bent and kissed my daughter’s sleeping face. Then my son’s. Gabriel twitched, cheeks still wet from his tears. I pressed both hands over my mouth to hold back the sob building in my chest as my own tears fell on his face and trickled down into his pale hair.
I’ll take care of him, Galleytrot sent, cold and sharp. But it’s best you go, Syd. He needs time to mend.
The hound’s words should have made me angry. Instead, they just added to my pain. Shoulders bowed, head low, I opened the veil and went home.
The kitchen was quiet, but not empty. And, for an instant of shock, when I realized I had a visitor, my breath caught in my chest. Not because seeing Charlotte was such a strange thing, but because I hadn’t expected to have to admit my guilt to anyone so soon. I planned to have a hot shower to wash away the horror of the last few hours and then hide under the covers, probably cry for a while, and maybe sleep.
She took one look at me and her face altered from her normal stoic blankness to fear. “Syd?” Charlotte stood, the chair under her scraping over the tiles and she came to me, embracing me, even as I once again crumbled like a broken doll.
Charlotte guided me to a chair, held my hand as I told her everything. It was easier this time, actually, less painful. It helped I knew she didn’t judge me, simply sat and listened, nodded on occasion. The padding of paws and the tremor of the table told me Sass had come to join us. I didn’t look up, couldn’t meet his amber eyes, knowing he would hate me for what I’d done to my son. But, when I finally finished, wiping at my nose with the cuff of my jacket, I did raise my head, and found the silver Persian’s empathy in the sideways droop of his ears and the downward curve of his whiskers.
“Oh, Syd,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”
A cry escaped me as I reached for him, pulled him into my arms. Sass and I rocked a moment as his purr rose, crackling around his own grief, his energy doing its best to support me while his hurt mingled with mine. I finally set him down in my lap, stroking his fur, letting out a long, vocal sigh as I shook my head.
“And that was my day,” I said. “You two?”
We all laughed, a little shaky. But I was feeling better now. Less overwhelmed. Still guilty, but free of the crushing weight of all that emotion. I would think this through, work it out, with my son and my husband. And we’d talk, cry, love each other again. My fears about Quaid were unfounded. He was as afraid as I was, I felt that in him. We just needed to find the time to be together and communicate, resolve it all.
“Actually,” Charlotte said, a flicker of her own guilt showing, “I’m here for a reason.”
Of course she was. I squeezed her hand, showing her it was all right.
“It doesn’t matter.” Charlotte looked away, lips tight, face grim. “Screw him. You have enough to worry about and he doesn’t deserve pity from anyone.”
I exchanged a look with Sassafras. “Who?”
Charlotte’s fingers tapped a beat on the table top before she tsked. “Andre Dumont.”
“What’s going on?” Oddly, this was exactly what I needed. A distraction. I grasped onto the mystery and prodded her further. “What does Andre want?”
“He asked to see us both,” she said. “He’s dying.”
“He’s been dying for a while now,” Sass said with his usual snark back in place.
Charlotte flashed her teeth in a fierce grin. “For real this time.”
I climbed to my feet, brushing dust from my rumpled suit. “Let’s go get this over with,” I said. “He may be a rat bastard, but if Andre is asking for us I’m actually curious to know what he has to say.”
Charlotte hesitated before nodding and standing beside me. I shook my head at Sass as he pawed my arm.
“You stay home,” I said. “Please. We won’t be long.”
Sass sighed, nodded. “Frank and Sunny are asleep upstairs,” he said. “I’ll tell them where you went. And if you’re not home in an hour, I’m coming after you.”
As if Andre and his coven could do anything to harm me. Still, I appreciated the support.
Taking Charlotte’s hand in mine felt right. So did leaving behind my suffering to watch one more deserving get what was coming to him. I worried that made me a bad person, but accepted it as truth anyway.
The broad front steps of the Dumont mansion were dark, the sun long gone to bed by now. Tall shadows stretched out from the full moon hanging low in the starry, cloudless sky. Kristophe waited for us, sitting on the top stair in the light of the single lamp over the door, his long hair messy, face anxious. He’d always seemed so put together. Again I was struck by how badly he’d let himself go, aged beyond his years in the yellow illumination over his head. To hide what? I didn’t know his full story, or that of his brother, though I could guess at the pressure of growing up Dumont. All I’d really gleaned came from Charlotte. Her grim face at that moment told me she knew more than she wanted to.
Why did I care? I mused over that as Kristophe stood and turned without a word, leading us inside. The house was quiet, the air stale as though no windows had been open in centuries. The tang of decay was stronger than I remembered and as we crossed the f
oyer and passed behind the stairs, it only grew stronger.
From what I remembered, the master bedchamber lay up a floor, down an ornate hall. It had been Mia’s once. But the room Kristophe led us to was buried down a narrow corridor, behind a plain wooden door. I met Charlotte’s eyes as Kristophe opened it and stood aside, head down, waiting for us to enter.
I almost didn’t, gagging on the stench of death wafting from the room. But Charlotte was on the move and I couldn’t leave her to do this alone.
“Stop!” I turned to find Jean Marc striding toward us. Charlotte kept going, disappearing inside. A quick glance at Kristophe, his shoulders twitching with guilt, told me this wasn’t a sanctioned visit. That Jean Marc thought he was in charge, despite his father’s hard cling to life.
It was immensely satisfying to flash the older Dumont a middle finger salute before crossing the threshold and sealing the door behind me. He might not want us here, but it was Andre who summoned us. And I found even more now I wanted to know what he had to tell me.
You are not welcome here. Jean Marc’s power oozed through my shield enough to reach me.
Your father is still leader, I sent. I can sense it. And it’s his will that called to us. So, mind your betters, boy. And wait outside.
It was obvious from the resentment in Jean Marc he was only waiting for Andre to die. And fair enough. But I had a feeling Mom was right about the Dumont power and the elder Dumont brother was in for a shock when daddy dearest finally gave up the echo.
None of my business. I shoved aside all thought of Jean Marc and his ambition, stepping forward to Charlotte’s side to face the monster she’d doomed to die.
***
Chapter Thirty Two
The gloom in the chamber did little to hide the wreck of a man lying under the covers of the large four poster bed. Andre must have chosen this bedroom for its lack of windows. Perhaps he had no desire to see outside any longer, to feel the breath of fresh air on his decaying cheeks.
I thought I was prepared for this, after the day I’d had. After knowing he was literally disintegrating from the curse Charlotte placed on him. But I honestly had no idea how far a body could decompose and remain alive.
No. Idea.
Andre’s breath whistled in and out from between his cracked lips, the only part of him that didn’t seem to ooze some fluid. I held my ground—and the contents of my stomach—only out of sheer will. He looked like a special effects zombie from some B-list movie, overdone for major creep factor. But, when he opened his eyes, the single one remaining him shone with awareness, the icy blue rimmed in red.
Charlotte stared, silent and solemn, though without an ounce of pity to be seen or felt. I was finding it increasingly difficult to share her detachment as each moment passed, forced as I was to use magic to filter the stench of his decay from my nostrils so I wouldn’t pass out from the smell.
No one should have to suffer like this. When his hand rose from the covers, a small piece of flesh fell with a wet plop from the side of his thumb.
Okay, now I was going to puke for real.
But Charlotte simply crossed to him, though she didn’t touch him, taking a seat in the simple chair at his bedside as though there to comfort a friend. I joined her only through absolute control of my churning guts, thankful the second seat was a little further away and I could use her to block part of my view.
Andre turned his head, infinitely slowly, leaving clumps of hair behind as the few wisps of his blond locks clung bravely to the oozing remains of his scalp. His chest barely rose and fell, the covers slightly disturbed at the movement of his inhale and exhale. Thankfully the majority of his wasted body was covered in silk pajamas long soaked through by the oozing of his flesh and a heavy comforter. I didn’t see toes or anything resembling feet-like lumps and wondered if he had them anymore.
Gag. This was too much.
“Charlotte.” Oh. My. Swearword. He could still talk. If that was talking. Wet, bubbling, a dark tongue edged in black snaking out between his dry lips as he struggled to speak. He’d crumbled so much further than when I’d seen him.
Was that really just yesterday?
“Andre.” She nodded to him, all casual. How? How was she managing when I could barely breathe?
He coughed softly, almost in apology, the single hand in view on the comforter twitching in response. When he spoke again, his voice was clearer, kind of normal, frightening coming from the disgusting remains of his wasting body. “I didn’t think,” wet breath, “you’d come.” His single eye swiveled in the sunken socket, a patch of white bone showing. I bit hard on the inside of my cheek as he looked at me. “And Sydlynn. So kind of you,” if he breathed in like he was sucking on water one more time I was going to heave over the side of the chair, “to accept my invitation.”
No comment.
“What do you want, Andre?” Charlotte’s tone was light, playful. Was she taunting him? I suppose I hardly blamed her. He’d tortured her most of her young life, abused her physically, mentally, sexually. She’d only told me the barest fraction of what he’d done, including her most recent encounter with him that led us here, to this place, with him dying from her power inside him.
“I know I don’t deserve your pity.” His voice dropped in volume, fingers clenching at the covers. I looked away as one of his thin, blackened fingernails lifted free and feathered to the floor. I quickly jerked my foot back so it wouldn’t land on the toe of my shoe. “But your revenge is complete. I’ve asked you here to beg you to release me from this torment.”
She didn’t say anything, just sat there, head cocked to one side. I almost reached for her, to ask her to just do as he wanted, when she finally spoke.
“You’ve learned your lesson, is that it?” I wondered if he heard the threat in her mild tone, if he really knew Charlotte at all. I felt it, sensed it, knew it for what it was. She would let him rot like this forever.
Andre shuddered before speaking. “I swear,” he whispered, as though he’d lost the brief burst of energy that he’d greeted us with. “If you would only reverse this curse, I will be your slave. To torture and kill, revive and destroy, over and over again. Only free me from the agony of this endless death.”
Charlotte’s laughter tinkled like a soft bell, sweet, cheerful. I winced, though held still. This was hers to see through to the end and I was just an observer.
“Andre,” she said, still smiling. “How darling of you.”
He didn’t speak, simply watched her with his single blue eye, desperation in the power that hovered over him, around us.
Charlotte. I gently touched her mind. It might be time.
I know. Her own was far sadder than her outward expression led me to believe. I was surprised by her softness, the regret in her. But, Syd. I wouldn’t know where to start. I didn’t intend for this to happen. Only for him to die. This decay… I’m ashamed of what I’ve done. Fierce pride hit me hard. And I’m not.
Completely understandable, I sent. What do you want to do?
“I could care less about your fate,” Charlotte said, feigning a yawn behind one hand. “But, if Syd is willing to try to save you, I won’t stop her.” She met my eyes. I’m sorry to drop this on you, she sent. But I just can’t, Syd.
I nodded, hugging her with energy. Thank you for trusting me with this, I sent as gently as I could. I know how much he hurt you. But if you let him die without trying to redeem yourself, I fear he’ll win even after he’s gone.
She just stared at me a long moment before looking away.
My power was reluctant to touch Andre, and I didn’t blame it. The family magic hated him for the same reasons I did. My demon’s huffing told me she wouldn’t be much help and even Shaylee turned her back. But my vampire sighed and came with me, exploring the damage that had been done.
Not just on the surface. To every molecule and cell in Andre’s body. It was like sinking into a cesspool of rot and bile, while the core of Charlotte’s curse clung with wolf li
ke tenacity to his soul and echo, trapping him within, forcing him to live his death.
I pulled free without trying to reverse the damage. There was just nothing there to repair. I considered briefly calling the Kennecott twins to see if their healing abilities could accomplish this thing, but changed my mind. He was too far gone and I wouldn’t subject them to this.
The ball was back with Charlotte. It was up to her to foul out or slam dunk.
Andre must have sensed my failure because he sighed, a burbling sound, his body settling further beneath the sheets as though it had given up entirely on him and was collapsing at the skeletal level.
“So be it,” he said, voice stronger again. “Jean Marc will be pleased.”
“Your son waits for your death,” I said.
“Parasite.” Andre turned his head, the last of his earlobe on the pillow beside him, blood oozing over bone. I gulped and tried to distract myself, focusing on a tiny hole I’d acquired in the knee of my dress pants. “Little does he know there will be no inheritance for him to exploit.” Andre’s cackling laughter was the sound of heart pounding nightmares. I’d be carrying that around with me for a long time.
“Andre, I have questions.” Would he answer? Did it matter? Maybe not. But this man wasn’t the antagonistic asshat I was used to. Perhaps near death he would be willing to speak with candor.
“I know you do.” His eye met mine again. “It’s part of the reason I asked you to join us.”
“You’re willing to tell me what you know?”
Andre’s smile exposed bone and retreating, blood red gums. “My son has been working with the Brotherhood,” he said, strength somehow surging through him, clearing his voice, giving him vigor I was amazed to witness. It was as though the ghostly image of who Andre had been settled around him, and all I saw as he went on was the man he used to be. “Like father, like son. And mother. Yes,” he nodded, “Odette was in bed with the Brotherhood. As has been the case with the Dumont family for generations.” His French accent deepened as he went on and I wondered if he was remembering a time long past, when he was young. “I gave him everything. Belaisle was supposed to protect me.” His energy sagged all at once and Andre’s glamor vanished. It was almost more horrible this time, because I’d allowed the false vision to blind me to the truth. “But he betrayed me in the end. And for that I will tell you everything.”