by Patti Larsen
The door opened, Quaid walking through. I tensed though I did my best to keep it from the kids. When I’d turned from the man I killed to face my friends and family, his had been the face filled with the most horror. Judging me. Calling me a monster with his eyes, with rejection in his expression.
So much for kissing and making up.
“Syd.” I looked up as he stopped by the end of the couch. “I need to talk to you.”
Hell no. “I’m busy with the kids,” I said.
Oh, Syd.
“Now.” He turned his back on me, retreated to the far end of the room, near the door.
Ethie looked up, anxious face making me want to throttle my husband. “I’ll be right back.” I kissed her forehead, then Gabriel’s. Both watched with grim little expressions as I joined Quaid, smiling over my shoulder at them, sending them love through my power even as I built a wall around my husband and me to cut off any shouting that might happen.
And there would be shouting.
“You need to go.” He trembled, hands tight at his sides. Quaid refused to meet my eyes, jaw jumping as his jaw clenched and unclenched. “Just until you get it together.”
“I’m sorry?” Yes, shouting. And hitting, quite possibly. Bloodshed and broken things. “Did you just tell me I couldn’t be with my kids?”
“You just killed someone in cold blood, Syd.” Quaid’s fear cut through his sharp words. “I watched you murder a normal man and you don’t regret one bit you did it.”
“Say it, Quaid,” I taunted him. “Call me a monster out loud, because you’ve been doing it in your head for ages. Can’t wait for that to happen.”
“I don’t know what’s happening to you,” he said, shoulders twitching, his power humming around him. What, like he needed protection from me? Was he serious? “And until I do I want you to stay away from the kids.”
Death wish. He had a freaking death wish. That was it. Made worse when the door behind him creaked open and the last face in the world I wanted to see peeked through.
Payten spotted Quaid first, half smiled, before her eyes settled on me. With a squeak of fear she backed out of the doorway, closing it behind her.
Too late. Far too late.
Oh. My. Swear—
Asshole.
“You’re with her, aren’t you?” I felt my stomach contract, constrict, wanted to throw up on him so badly but I hadn’t eaten in ages and there was nothing to come up, just the bile of my words. “You’re… you’ve. Quaid.”
He didn’t refute it. He didn’t.
He didn’t.
In that moment everything stopped and died and I died and I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, not when he stood there shaking, his hands clenched into fists, power protecting him from me.
“You never loved me.” The truth was there, out in the open. “It was the magic all along.” I swallowed past the giant lump trying to smother me. “You just couldn’t take being the husband of a powerful woman.” Hurt him, Syd. Cut him to the quick. Fast and hard. Leave him bleeding. “You had to take the easy way out, to be a coward. Run away like you always have. Like I always knew you would.” Snap.
“I’ve tried,” he shot back, finally meeting my eyes, rage matching the hurt inside me. “I tried so hard, Syd. But you never let me in. Not once. You and your duty and your damned Hayle need to be in control of everything and everyone.”
“You know what?” I pushed against him with magic. Maybe he had a reason to fear me. “Go screw yourself, Quaid. No, wait.” I jerked my thumb toward the door. “Never mind. She’s already doing it for you.”
His mouth gaped as the door opened again and Mom hurried through. Her power sliced between us, forcing me back, wrapping around my husband. Protecting him.
From me.
Because I was clearly that dangerous now. Rabid animal on the loose.
Growl.
Syd, my vampire whispered. Stop it. Don’t do this.
I laughed, backed away, tossing my hands in the air. It was either that or punch him in the face.
“Go ahead and think what you want,” Quaid said, voice shaking. “But you’re right. I’m not the monster, Syd. You are. And you proved it to me today.”
He said it. He actually said it out loud, to my face. And, for a brief moment, I stood in the basement in Wilding Springs, sixteen years old, and told my parents and my weeping sister I didn’t want magic for that very reason. Because I didn’t want to be a monster.
Was he right?
Did I give a damn?
“Quaid.” Mom’s magic lashed at him, Dad right behind her, scowling like a thundercloud, his own power pushing his son-in-law back, away from me. Protecting me this time.
Didn’t they know their first choice made it too late?
Quaid’s embarrassment barely covered his anger. But when Gabriel broke through the shielding I held around us, hugged my legs, crying, my heart finally snapped. Worse when my daughter, sobbing, went to her father.
Her father.
I detached my son from me, turned him toward Mom. I needed space, to escape them. To examine myself fully and figure out if Quaid was right.
My son didn’t want to release me but I gave him no choice. And glared at my husband.
“You take care of them,” I snarled. “Or I’ll see to it I’m the last monster you encounter.”
Mom cried out for me, Gabriel, too, but I was through the veil and moving, needing to know.
Unable to resist the pull of the answers waiting for me.
The house was empty, quiet on the other side of the veil in the early morning. Sass. I’d left him behind in Hong Kong.
Good. It was better this way.
I paced the house, up and down the stairs, blocking my power from the family, from Tippy and the girls, needing the time alone. The place seemed to mock me, empty rooms showing me the gaping holes in my life, in my soul.
Why did I come here knowing I’d be so alone?
You’re never alone, my vampire sent.
Never. My demon’s fierceness burned inside me.
Talk to us, Syd. Shaylee’s mind wept.
But I couldn’t. And, in the end, I blocked them out, too.
I finally had to go, to leave Wilding Springs, feeling the pressure of the family looking for me, wanting from me, things I couldn’t give. The Stronghold welcomed me with its quiet, the touch of the drach a distraction though they at least knew to leave me be. Max felt absent, fortunately. He was the last person I wanted to talk to right now. The “I told you so’s” were already echoing in my head as I crossed the vast stronghold to the stairs. Climbed the tower.
Stood outside Belaisle’s prison while four drach watched me with concern on their faces.
Screw them. I pushed my way inside despite their reluctance, mood fouling further as I found Liander sitting, as he had been all along, I could only assume, with one leg crossed neatly over the other, pristine suit as perfect as it had been when we brought him in.
“You do know your people aren’t yours anymore.” Vindictiveness drove me to hurtle that hurt at Belaisle. I didn’t know that for sure. But Jean Marc had been in the market for a family of his own. And the look he gave me when he left with the Brotherhood told me he wasn’t about to share what he’d won.
Liander had the temerity to shrug, casual and uncaring. “A mere inconvenience,” he said. “The ranks of the Order are my people now. Jean Marc can have the Brotherhood.”
I forced air into my lungs, pacing the edge of the shielding, wanting to throw more at him. While he watched me with narrowed eyes.
“Something’s changed in you.” He leaned forward, tapping his fingers on one knee. “Tell me what’s happened, Sydlynn.”
As though he were my confessor and I a sinner. The monster within rose up again, redness washing over my vision. I felt it come this time, observed it with longing. Yes. This. He deserved to die, too. I could do it, so easily. A simple grasp of his heart. And a squeeze.
He sat back
abruptly, straightening his tie. Cleared his throat. Fear oozed from him as the monster retreated from me. I remembered Meira talking about her own monster within, the demon power that grew when she stripped another of their magic. But this felt different. Less as though I lost control and more as though I gained it.
So odd. Odd enough it washed the murderous need from me and made me pause.
“You can kill me,” he said, the faintest tremor in his voice. “But it won’t stop the inevitable. The Order is coming. And Dark Brother follows them.” He twitched, foot bobbing on his knee as his eyes widened. And then he laughed.
“What’s so damned funny?” The red haze was back. Simple. Crush his windpipe.
“Doombringer,” he said. “Right on schedule.”
Enough to pull me back again. “What does that mean?” Damn it. Why did Konstantin have to die? I had questions for him. As much as it creeped me out to use my necromancy skills, I might have to see if I could raise the sorcerer’s echo, to prod him for answers. My mind whirled while Belaisle continued to laugh.
He had five, four, three—
The door opened and saved his life.
***
Chapter Thirty One
Max stepped inside, met my gaze. His power touched me, slid over me even as his eyes shifted to Belaisle and back again.
“Sydlynn,” he said. “We have visitors.” He didn’t sound happy.
Belaisle’s chuckling followed me out while I struggled to breathe, just breathe.
“What is it?” Max turned me to face him, diamond eyes troubled.
“Nothing,” I said, more sharply than I would ever have normally. “Who’s here?”
He gestured for me to precede him toward the tear in the veil he’d opened. “You’ll see.”
We emerged in the foyer of the Stronghold where Quaid and a dozen Enforcers hovered on blue fire. I stood there, dumb and stunned for the longest time, shocked he’d show his face to me this soon.
But from the gathering he’d brought this was an official visit.
“Femke wants to see you.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes again, the coward. An evil part of me wanted to prod him, to make him fight with me right here, right now. To show what a true jackass he really was. The rest of me just wanted him to leave.
Not a good sign, was it?
I finally shrugged. “Tell her I’ll be there shortly.” And turned away from him.
“Not just you,” Quaid said through gritted teeth, turning me back. “Both of you.” His gaze settled on Max. “Official visit.”
The drach leader didn’t comment. The fact Femke had zero hold or command over him wasn’t lost on me, nor, I imagined, on Quaid. And yet when Max nodded I actually felt a little better about the whole thing. He could have made things miserable.
Right. Because they were bright shiny sunny at the moment.
I stepped through the veil, ignoring Quaid and the Enforcers, Max coming with me, Jiao following behind. It was the first time I didn’t resent having her with us. Welcomed the backup, to be honest. Charlotte would be proud of me.
I was losing my mind.
I knew the moment we reached Hong Kong everything had changed. I couldn’t feel Mom anymore, or Dad. Sassafras. Though Galleytrot and the kids remained. So, Femke had ousted them already? That was gratitude for you.
We don’t know the circumstances yet, my vampire sent.
Oh, I knew them. Knew what was coming. Was still shocked to find Femke in her office, behind her desk. Looking thinner, but awake and aware. In absolutely no shape, I was certain, to be sitting there.
She rose from her chair, wobbling slightly, before coming to greet me. She’d showered, changed. Even applied a little makeup as if that mundane covering would hide what she’d been through. I wanted to hug her but she held off, blue eyes bright sparks of hurt, pale skin pinched.
Thank you, she sent, soft and low. Syd, thank you for saving my life.
Fierce joy surged through me though it only lasted a moment. Any time, I sent. You do know it’s far too soon for you to be doing any of this.
She didn’t comment, looking over my shoulder at Max. “Drach Lord,” she said out loud, attitude shifting completely as the WPC power filled her voice, “it has come to our attention Liander Belaisle, the leader of the Brotherhood, is in your possession.”
Max nodded slowly, face grim. “He is.”
She sighed, so tired, down to the core of her. What the hell was she thinking pulling a stunt like this? Did she feel she needed to prove something to the rest of us? Damned idiot.
I didn’t get to chastise her out loud or privately.
“I order you to turn over Liander Belaisle into the custody of the World Paranormal Council,” she said. Even while her face told me she knew what Max would say. And was helpless but to make her demand anyway.
How many times had I been choiceless? And yet, she had options.
Or did she?
“I can’t do that,” Max said with real regret. “You know I can’t. And I won’t. As I told Miriam Hayle, the fate of the Universe outweighs crimes against a single plane.”
“I repeat my order,” she said, swaying, eyes tight. “Turn him over to me or face the sentence of the Council.”
What the hell are you doing? I threw the words into her head, felt her flinch.
Stay out of this, Syd. She might have been suffering but she had enough magic to keep me out, at least enough I’d have to hurt her to make her hear me.
Max’s shoulders pulled back, deep frown marring his brow. “I would think twice before using that word with me for a third time, Femke Svennson,” he rumbled, the song of the drach in his voice. “You do not order the first race. We are not your servants. We serve only Creator and the good of the Universe.”
He tore open the veil even as Femke’s power reached for him. He swatted her away effortlessly, a fly buzzing around a leviathan. “I don’t understand your motivation for this affront,” he said, cold and angry, “but I am leaving. And I would advise you, Syd, to do the same until such time as the paranormals of this world finally understand their place in the Universe.” And then he was gone, Jiao with him, leaving me there with a badly shaking Femke who wept into her hands.
I guided her to a chair, sat next to her. “That was stupid,” I said, knowing I was being blunt, while Quaid grumbled in the corner. I’d missed his arrival, not that I cared right now one little bit about him.
“Syd, they want me to step down. They’ll demand it if Belaisle isn’t turned over.” She grasped my hands in her shaking ones. “There’s talk of laying siege to the Stronghold.”
They were out of their freaking minds. “Against the drach.” I shook my head. “Seriously?”
She sagged. “Please, just talk to him. We’ll have the trial, keep him secured. And the drach can have full access, whatever you need.” Femke’s pale blue eyes were dark beneath, weariness worn like deep bruises in her pale skin. “Just let them have this. I don’t want a war over Liander Belaisle.”
She had no clue. The drach would simply block her and the rest of the attack force from entering the Stronghold plane. There would be no war. Just hurt that might never heal.
“I’ll talk to Max,” I said, standing, leaving her there. “But he won’t listen, Femke.” I wrung my hands, lost and frustrated. “We can’t risk Belaisle escaping. There has to be another way.”
She didn’t say anything, just sat there and stared at me.
“Make it happen, Syd.” Quaid finally spoke up. “Unless you want a war.”
I spun on him, letting my anger free. Maybe it was time they figured out just how small they were. “You really think,” I said with enough disdain his face blanched, “the drach, the first race of Creator, will let you anywhere near Belaisle if they don’t want you there?” I snorted, irritated and frustrated and wanting to shake the two of them, rattle their skulls together. “Your attempt at a war will just waste your time and energy and, in the end, create a rift between you
and the drach and nothing else.” I slashed the air with one hand. “Nothing.” I drew a shaking breath as they stared at me, mute but clearly as anxious as I was. “But you still don’t get it, do you? All you can think of is your own needs and goals and the petty, tiny crap.” Damn it, Max was right, wasn’t he? And I was an idiot. “Maybe when you carry the weight of two Universes on your shoulders,” I snapped at last, “you’ll understand just how pathetic you sound.”
Quaid went from stunned to bristling, but I didn’t give him or the softly weeping Femke a chance to comment on that huge truth.
“Tell you what,” I said, tearing open the veil as Max just had. “You two want Belaisle so badly? Come and get him.”
The veil snapped shut behind me. If only it was so easy to leave my rage behind.
***
Chapter Thirty Two
Pacing didn’t carry the satisfaction it used to. There was a time I could sort things out in my head with a few minutes of back and forth, letting my feet quiet the emotions and my head work out the answers. But I needed more than a few stomping steps these days.
I needed distance.
Not that I got it. Instead, like a moth to a flame, habit taking me, I went home to the house in Wilding Springs all over again. Stood in the lightening basement as the morning sun broke through the dust on the small windows, breathing heavily though I’d not exerted myself in a physical way, the temptation to let the monster out and beat some sense into everyone I knew so strong I shuddered from it.
Sassafras waddled down the steps to the concrete floor, coming to a halt at the bottom where he sat, tail wrapped around his paws, watching me with those amber eyes of his. His observations usually made me feel uncomfortable, as if I’d done something wrong. But not this time. No way.
I thought the world had gone to hell when the Brotherhood attacked, when Erica Plower, former second of this coven, betrayed us all to the sorcerers. I hadn’t seen anything yet.