“I try. Did I miss anything?”
“How about not taking things that don’t belong to you?”
“Anything else?” she said with a mix of guilt and hopefulness.
Grudgingly amused, Eve shook her head. “Well, I would like to know more about Toby . . . like his full name and where you met and how well you know him.”
“Toby Black. And very well. He plays the same online game I do. His Greywolf killed three of my white knights; that’s how we met. That was two adventures ago, so we’ve known each other about two months. He’s also Monica Rathburn’s cousin and a totally good guy. And I would have told you I was meeting him except he didn’t know his work schedule until today and—”
“He works? He doesn’t go to school?”
“He works after school,” she informed Eve in a tone usually reserved for giving directions to the very young, or very old and feebleminded. “I was going to call and leave a message as soon as I knew for sure what I was doing, but I sort of forgot.”
Eve didn’t doubt that had been her intention. Rory was usually conscientious—and Eve usually didn’t push the panic button so quickly.
“Okay. Next time tie a string around your finger or write yourself a reminder. I’m much too old to be running around playing Dog the Bounty Hunter.”
“Especially in the middle of the night like this,” Rory teased.
Eve rolled her eyes. “So disrespectful.”
“I really am sorry I worried you. Next time I’ll remember to call; cross my heart.” She made a hasty X over her heart. “I was sort of preoccupied all day, wondering if the talisman was going to work and trying to figure out how I was going to get it up against Toby’s heart without him thinking I was some kind of total weirdo.”
“How did you?”
Rory flashed a self-satisfied smile. “It came to me in English lit. We’re reading Emily Brontë, and in the drawing of her in the book she’s wearing a cameo brooch. Lightbulb moment! I took the hourglass off the chain and pinned it to the front of my sweater.” She pointed to a spot just below her right shoulder. “Then when he kissed me—”
“He kissed you?”
“Yeah. It was no big deal. I was so worried about getting our chests aligned right that I missed most of it. I do remember our teeth clicking, though. It was over before I knew it.”
“So what happened?”
She shrugged. “Nothing happened. He just stopped. I think maybe he had to breathe.”
“What happened with the pendant?”
“Oh. Nothing there either. No glowing crystals; no turning red.” She sounded disgruntled. “I don’t know if that means Grand was wrong about the whole thing or that Toby’s not my one true love.”
Eve wanted to shout, “You’re only fifteen years old! Of course he’s not your one true love!” Then she remembered being fifteen.
“Hmm. I’m not sure either. Did you want him to be?”
“Not especially.” Her blasé tone was a surprise. “What I need is a control group, a baseline, like you have with a science experiment. It won’t be easy since I don’t really know anyone with a genuine soul mate . . . especially not anyone in this family.”
Eve was still trying to understand. “So you’re not in love with him?”
“God, no. I mean, I probably could be, someday, if I put my mind to it. I like Toby; he’s supersmart and potentially cool, but definitely not until his braces come off.”
“Then why did you go to all that trouble with the pendant if it’s only a case of you probably could be in love with him someday maybe?”
“To rule him out,” she answered as if it should be obvious. “I’ve given this a lot of thought and—”
“A lot of thought? You mean in the eighteen or so hours you’ve known the talisman existed?”
“It’s not that complicated. I used the process of elimination and decided that the most efficient approach is to use the talisman to rule guys out right at the start. Not every guy you meet, of course; that would be too time-consuming, not to mention awkward,” she added with a little chuckle. “Just likely candidates, like Toby. That way you don’t waste time falling for one jerk after another and getting your heart broken over and over again. You just hold off on falling in love until you know for sure you’ve got the right guy. Makes sense, don’t you think?”
Eve wanted to tell her that it made no sense at all, that it was a crazy and misguided idea. She wanted to tell her that love didn’t come with guarantees, that love was a gift and you didn’t accept a gift only on the condition that you got to open it and inspect it first. That’s what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t seem to get it out given that the words “pot-kettle-black” were running through her mind in giant neon letters.
“Well, it’s innovative, I’ll give you that,” Eve said. “It might be an efficient way to zero in on Mr. Right, but won’t it take all the romance out of it? All the fun of getting to know someone and finding out if you click and discovering what it is you’re looking for in a man?”
“And the waiting for a guy to call and worrying that he’s messing around behind your back and a whole lot of stupid bickering. Face it, romance isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“This from the girl whose bookcase is filled with romance novels and who’s worn out the Pride and Prejudice DVDs.”
Rory huffed. “I’d think you of all people would understand the difference between fact and fiction. None of that is real. In real life romance just makes you stupid.”
Rory hadn’t lived enough to draw that conclusion firsthand, or to have done much waiting for calls or worrying about guys cheating. The bitterness underscoring her words came from somewhere else. It came from years of watching her mother play the dating game. Chloe’s career was finally taking off, but her love life was, and always had been, a disaster, or more accurately, an endless parade of disasters masquerading as men. Chloe had inherited their mother’s romantic streak, and with it a giant pair of blinders to wear on her heart. She fell hard and fast, and when it ended badly, as it inevitably did, she took it just as hard.
Eve knew how much it bothered Rory to see her mother’s heart broken because Eve had been there herself. True, her mother hadn’t worked her way through the Mr. Wrong lineup the way Chloe seemed to be, but her mother and her father had fought enough for a dozen couples. One of her last memories of them was the sound of angry voices coming from their bedroom. She definitely understood why Rory was being a little extra cautious when it came to romance. What worried her was that she didn’t sound merely cautious; she sounded jaded. And so did the plan she’d come up with for the talisman.
“You know, Rory, I’m not sure you should take Grand’s stories about the pendant—”
“You mean the talisman?”
“Right, the talisman. Maybe you shouldn’t take it so literally.”
“Why not?”
“Well, you said it yourself; it didn’t work with Toby and there’s no way of telling if it was because Toby’s the wrong guy or because it’s nothing more than . . . wishful thinking. If you put your trust in it, it could backfire.”
“And then I could end up alone . . . like Grand and you, or else alone and desperate like my mom.”
The ache hovering just beneath her sarcasm stopped Eve from lashing out and telling her just how out of line she was.
“That’s not fair, Rory. And your mother is not desperate,” she said firmly. “She’s a romantic.”
“Obviously. The woman still believes in fairy tales. She thinks she’s Tinkerbell or some kind of modern-day fairy godmother whose mission is to make everyone’s happily-ever-after dreams come true.”
“She does make dreams come true for a lot of people.”
“Right, a lot of rich jerks who’d be better off spending their money to feed starving people or find a cure for something. Personally, I’d be more impressed if she made her own dreams come true.”
“Give her time. And anyway, we’re not talkin
g about your mom, we’re talking about the pen . . . talis . . . hourglass. For all we know it’s just an old piece of jewelry with a great story attached, a family legend based on a little fact, a little fanciful thinking, and it gets more far-fetched with each retelling. You’re the one who mentioned science—think about it logically. How could it possibly have the power to do what Grand claims it can do?”
“Easy,” said Rory. “Magic.”
Her matter-of-fact tone set off a warning in Eve’s head. But she had no time to decide on a safe response—safe being one that would allow her to find out how much Rory knew without revealing anything in return—before turning into their driveway.
Grand’s car was parked in its usual spot.
“Oh, good,” Rory exclaimed, opening her seat belt and the car door at the same time. “Grand’s home.”
“Perfect,” Eve muttered, not even trying to catch up as her niece scampered up the walk and into the house. She was in no hurry to go inside.
She looked around for her purse, remembered she’d run out without it, and continued to sit with her hand on the door handle. Thinking.
Maybe it was a good thing Grand was home. Whatever Rory had overheard couldn’t be unheard. They would just have to deal with it. Rory was going to have questions, and demand answers. And she would get them, Eve decided. It was one thing to withhold the truth for someone’s own protection, another to look them in the eye and lie. She couldn’t do that . . . especially not with Grand there to keep her honest.
Maybe she’d been kidding herself to think she could keep the family skeleton locked away indefinitely. She just wished it had come popping out some other time, when she wasn’t busy battling Gabriel Hazard. And herself.
Hazard, because he wouldn’t stop coming after the pendant. Herself, because she wasn’t sure she wanted him to stop. At least not right away. And also because thanks to him she had intentionally used magic, and she hadn’t hated it.
Having that power stir to life inside her had been incredible. Feeling it rush and course through her was thrilling, and terrifying. All the more terrifying because it was thrilling. It had felt good. And right.
A few minutes later, she opened the door of the house to the familiar aroma of Grand’s special Irish stew. It was the ultimate comfort food, the sort of dish that had to be assembled early in the day and left to simmer on low heat for hours so that the flavors had time to blend. Eve was positive there had been neither sight nor scent of any such blending going on when she was home earlier, yet there was now a big enamel pot of steaming homemade goodness on the stove. How it got there was the “secret” in Grand’s secret recipe.
The table was set with dark blue placemats and napkins, and chunky white bowls. A silver basket held freshly baked rolls.
“Doesn’t it smell great in here?” Rory asked her. “I’m starving.”
“Me too.” Eve suddenly realized how true that was, and that it might be better to wait and have the talk on a full stomach. Unless Grand insisted on having answers and explanations right away. She had, after all, returned home to find the pendant, Rory and Eve missing.
Her grandmother finished fussing with the fire burning in the hearth between the kitchen and dining room and turned. But instead of the barrage of questions, she offered Eve a welcoming smile.
“That’s what a cook likes to hear,” she said. “Now sit so we can eat.”
Grand reached for the ladle, but Rory was quicker.
“You sit,” Rory told her firmly. “I’ll serve.”
“That would be lovely.” Grand sat and placed her napkin in her lap.
Eve followed suit, still eyeing her grandmother curiously. Was it possible Grand hadn’t noticed the pendant missing? And had just assumed Rory and she were both running late without explanation?
God, no. What was she thinking? Grand didn’t have to notice . . . she would just know. But she was kind enough to let them finish eating, with the dishes cleared and tea poured, before swinging a no-nonsense gaze from one of them to the other.
“And now I’ll hear all about what you two have been up to today.”
Ten
Eve looked across the table at Rory, who looked back at her with a rueful expression.
“I should go first this time,” she said to Eve. “I’m the one responsible for everything that happened.” She turned to Grand. “I guess I should start by telling you that I heard you and Eve talking last night. I didn’t mean to listen in . . .” She hesitated, shrugged. “But I didn’t stop either. I’m sorry, Grand.”
“And what did you hear us say?”
“Pretty much everything, I think. About the talisman and the goddess and how there’s magic in our blood. Ancient magic, and maybe divine. I know I heard about something divine.” Her tone grew more excited and her words came faster. “And about how if a man’s heart is true, the crystals in the hourglass will turn red when he touches it. Is that true, Grand?”
Grand drew a deep breath and held it as she glanced in Eve’s direction.
She was waiting for a sign from Eve as to how to proceed. They’d made a bargain and Grand had honored it to the best of her ability. And she would continue to do so if that’s what Eve wanted. Even though she didn’t agree with it, she would bow to Eve’s demand for secrecy in the interest of holding together the family she had left, the family she loved.
But Eve no longer wanted complicity from Grand; she wanted her help.
“It’s okay, Grand,” Eve told her, sounding quite calm and confident despite having no flaming idea if anything was okay or ever would be okay again. All she could do was plod ahead and hope for the best. “Secrets are one thing, lies are another. Rory is nearly an adult and she deserves the truth.”
Happily convinced, Grand exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yes, Rory dear, everything you heard me tell your aunt last night is true. You are an enchantress by birth, as am I, and Eve.”
“And my mother?”
“Oh God! Chloe.” Eve groaned. “I’ll have to call her later and fill her in. On everything.”
“Don’t worry,” advised Rory. “She won’t be as surprised as you might think. She’s had her suspicions just like I have. We’ve talked about it.”
Eve angled her head. “You have?”
“Sure. Mostly me.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, her green eyes intent. “I had no idea it was anything this huge, but I’ve known there was something special about Grand since I was ten.”
“Oh dear,” Grand said with a small, uneasy smile. “I did try to be . . . discreet.”
“Oh, you were,” Rory assured her, grinning. “I was just sneaky for my age.”
“What happened when you were ten?” Eve asked.
“I was outside playing with some of my friends and we ran out of juice. I brought the pitcher in to get more and Grand said she would take care of it. On my way out I hung around the back door and I saw Grand refill it by just touching the rim. I was blown away.”
Grand closed her eyes and reached for her tea.
“I was dying to know how you did it,” Rory told her, “but I knew it was supposed to be a secret, something I shouldn’t talk about. After that I paid a lot more attention and I saw all kinds of other amazing stuff.”
Eve could easily imagine the amazing stuff she was referring to because she’d seen it herself growing up. “And you told your mom about what you saw?”
She nodded. “Not until a long time afterwards. But yeah, I finally told her. I told her I thought Grand was some kind of magician, that she could sweep the floor or make things disappear or change the color of the paint on the wall by just waving her hand or saying a few weird words.”
“Not weird, darling, Irish. What you heard is the old tongue.”
“Can you teach it to me?”
The gleam in Rory’s eyes told Eve that Irish wasn’t the only thing her niece was hoping to learn from Grand.
“Of course,” Grand assured her, then thought again and slid a cautious gl
ance toward Eve. “Well, maybe. We’ll have to see.”
“What did your mother say when you told her?” Eve was beginning to suspect that the person most in the dark around there had been her. Oh, sweet irony.
“She said I was probably right, but that it was up to Grand to tell us if she wanted us to know about it. And she said—” She stopped abruptly and turned her attention to lining her teaspoon up with her saucer.
“What else did she say, Rory?”
Reluctantly she met Eve’s gaze. “She said talking about it would make you sad and we didn’t want to do that.”
Emotion welled up inside Eve. She rubbed the outside corner of one eye and waited until she felt able to speak in a steady voice. “Your mother is a lot smarter than she sometimes gets credit for being. It was always me, not Grand, who wanted to keep this a secret from you and your mother. I did it because I thought it was the only way to keep you safe from harm. And all the while you were keeping a secret of your own so I wouldn’t be hurt.”
“What matters is that all of you were acting out of love,” declared Grand, reaching for their hands and giving both a quick squeeze. “And you did splendidly. In all these years no one did get hurt. But now things have changed.”
“I’ll say. We’ve been kaleidoscoped.” Seeing their quizzical looks, Rory pantomimed looking into a kaleidoscope and turning it. “One little turn changes everything.”
“It does indeed,” Grand agreed. “I’m afraid you’re right, Eve. The time for secrets has passed.”
Rory clapped her hands in excitement. “Good. Because I’m dying to hear more . . . to hear everything.”
“And you shall,” said Grand. “After you finish telling me about today.”
Rory sighed and raised her hand level with her shoulder, elbow bent, palm flat. “Guilty. Again. Today was all my fault; I took off after school without letting anyone know I had plans. I meant to, but . . . I guess I was sort of distracted.”
“And then I panicked and went tearing out of here to look for her in such a hurry I didn’t think to leave a note either,” Eve said.
“Well, that explains why it looked like a whirlwind had passed through here,” Grand remarked. “I walked in and saw your purse upended, cupboard doors left open, and the garage door too.”
The Lost Enchantress Page 15