Blood of Retribution

by Bonnie Lamer

  “I hope you’re not making a casserole,” I say dryly, drawing her attention to what she is doing.

  Her cheeks pink as she says, “I am simply moving some things out of the way to find what I need.”

  Uh huh. Sure she is. “The suspense is killing me. Will you two please just tell me what is going on?”

  “I concur,” Kallen says, crossing his arms over his bare, muscled chest. I’m tempted to say forget this conversation and go back upstairs with him. He is mouthwatering gorgeous anytime, but half naked he is really hard to ignore.

  “As you wish,” Isla says, sitting at the counter with her cup of coffee. Her hands are shaking slightly as she sets it down. Barely enough to notice, but I do notice. With a sigh, Tabitha sits down as well.

  “A familiar…” Isla begins then pauses.

  “Is a thing of legend. Or at least, that is what I have been taught,” Kallen says coldly. Obviously, his education in this area is lacking and he’s blaming the two Fairies who are responsible.

  Isla nods. “For the most part.”

  “What part isn’t a legend?” I ask. If she doesn’t just spit it out, I’m going to think of a spell that will snatch the words right out of her mouth.

  “No way!” Kegan suddenly shouts and slams his hand on the counter. “That nursery rhyme. The one little kids sing when they are dancing around a bonfire. It is true.”

  “What nursery rhyme?” I ask, giving Kallen a quick look to see if he knows what Kegan is talking about. From the firm set of his jaw and the neck muscles that are trying to escape his skin, I would say he not only knows, but is furious as well.

  Turning back to Isla, I say again, “What nursery rhyme?”

  “Singing, swinging as the world turns. Dancing, prancing while the fire burns. Fire, fire burning bright, ward off evil dark as night. Wicked spirits keep away, and your familiars keep at bay. No good Fairy knows your ways,” Kegan says in a sing-song voice.

  How cute. Except that part about only wicked spirits having familiars. I’m going to try to ignore it because I don’t want to think about what that says about me. I’m like an ostrich with its head in the sand at the moment. I’m in my happy place. I am one with the universe. I am Zen. And apparently I’m deaf because Kallen is shouting in my ear. “Xandra!”

  I glare at him for interrupting my attempts at repression. “What?”

  “Nice to see you are still with us,” Kegan says with a smirk. I glare at him now.

  “As I was saying,” Isla says, not using her usually brusque voice. Instead, she is using her ‘handle this with kid gloves so she doesn’t freak out and kill us all with her wild magic she can’t control when she’s upset’ voice. “The presence of a familiar does not necessarily correspond with being wicked.”

  “Um, this ‘so called’ nursery rhyme sounds pretty clear,” I say dryly. Great, now my life is being guided by nursery rhymes. What’s next? Am I going to have to consult my horoscope daily to see if it’s safe to leave the house?

  As if reading my mind, Tabitha says, “Do you really think you can put much stock in nursery rhymes?” She slaps Kegan in the back of the head for good measure. I’m sure glad I didn’t grow up with her. I’m surprised that the guys don’t have brain damage from all those blows to the head.

  “Then it’s not true?” I ask hopefully.

  Determined to burst my bubble, Isla says, “It is partially true.” Please let the true part be about fire warding off evil. It’s not. “Familiars are conjured by dark magic. Very dark magic.”

  “What do you mean by conjured?” I ask. I don’t remember doing any conjuring. We’ve only been back from our honeymoon for a few days. Conjuring was definitely not on our minds on our little island. We had much better things to do there than conjure.

  “She means that familiars are not organic. The laws of nature must be changed to bring them about.”

  “The magic we all use changes the laws of matter and nature all the time. Why is it a big deal here? And if it’s that easy, why don’t more people conjure them?” I still think it’s kind of cool to have a familiar.

  “You might as well spit it out,” Tabitha says. “The sooner it’s out, the sooner we can find out who’s behind this.”

  Behind this? “You mean someone else conjured a familiar for me?”

  Isla sighs heavily. “Familiars cannot be conjured by the magical beings to whom they will belong. They are usually given as gifts by dark practitioners as payment for…”

  “For doing awful things,” I finish for her. I close my eyes and think of the horrible things I have done lately. It actually makes me cringe to list them in my head. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. What is done is done. I cannot go back and change my actions.

  “Who would have sent her a familiar?” Kallen asks, his voice full of doubt. “She has done dark magic only for the benefit of the greater good. She has not done anything that would please a dark practitioner.”

  I give him a half smile in appreciation of his support. Turning back to Isla, I say, “Okay, someone conjured a familiar for me. What should I do about it, kill it?” That seems way too harsh. I am definitely not killing it.

  “I knew these wankers were in here trying to get rid of me,” the Tasmanian devil says from behind me making me jump. “Well, it is not going to work. I am staying.” He plops down on the floor with what I imagine is supposed to be a stubborn look. I’ll have to explain to him that anytime he stares at someone it looks like he wants to tear them apart, regardless of his mood.

  “How did he get back in here?” Kegan asks, keeping a close eye on the devil and his location.

  “Does he think I am incapable of walking around the house to find another way in? If keeping me out was a priority, you would think someone would have closed all of the doors.” Ah, he must have come in from the terrace. That door is rarely closed. He’s a smart little thing, I’ll give him that. “Wankers, the whole lot of them,” the devil adds taking all of my good thoughts about him and flushing them down the toilet.

  “Shut up,” I hiss. “You are not helping.”

  “Seeing as you are the only one who understands me, it stands to reason that I am neither aiding nor harming their opinion of me,” it counters.

  Great. My familiar is a smart ass. How ironic. “Do you want to be muzzled again?” I ask him, ignoring the staring eyes around me. It’s hard not to feel self-conscious knowing they haven’t completely made up their minds yet whether I’m crazy or that I can actually understand the creature.

  “Are we to have a relationship based on threats?” the devil asks me.

  “Yes,” I retort and then look away from his angry little face. “Now go back outside and stay there.”

  After giving me what I’m sure is supposed to be a glare, the Tasmanian devil turns around and does a painfully slow march out of the kitchen. He looks as if he going off to his own funeral; one he knows no one else is attending. Pathetic. But even Tabitha’s eyes are softening as she watches him walk away with his head hanging low.

  “Well, you certainly cannot kill him,” she says. I thought she would be the one most gung ho about it. She hates animals in the house. Except the ones we all turn into that is. Well, I’m not allowed to change into my animal form anywhere near the house. Kegan and Kallen explained to Isla and Tabitha in great, humorous detail what happened the first time I turned and the rule was immediately put in place.

  Isla notices her softening resolve as well. “Tabitha, do not forget that it is still a wild, dangerous animal,” she says.

  “He’s not dangerous,” I say. “He does what I tell him to do.”

  “Xandra, you have known him for exactly half an hour now. You really cannot make a statement like that,” Kallen drawls.

  Is it wrong to want to sick your familiar on your husband? “You’ve only known him for half an hour as well, so how can you tell me I’m wrong?” That was probably not the strongest argument I could have gone with.

  “I belie
ve you are both missing the point here,” Isla says dryly. “What we should be most concerned with is who sent the creature and why.”

  She’s right. The actual Tasmanian devil is probably the least of my worries. The conjuring of him for me by some evil being is the really scary thing. Who would do that and why? “What would someone else gain from me having a familiar?” I ask.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Kallen says. He reaches over and takes my hand in his, absently stroking my palm with his thumb. “And how do we discover who it is?”

  Isla’s mouth is in a grim line. “I do not know.” I bet it kills her how often she says that lately.

  “If it is a Witch, Xandra could scry for him or her,” Kallen says.

  Isla nods. “If it is a Witch. But there are no Witches other than her mother in this realm.” I’m pretty sure my Mom would not have made me a familiar. Considering she’s a ghost, she probably couldn’t even do it if she wanted to.

  “Does it have to be someone from this realm?” I ask. I really have to do some research. I’m so tired of being ignorant of the magical world.

  Kallen is the one who answers. “Other than the Cowan realm, there are open gateways to other realms, so no.”

  “Well, that narrows it down to about a billion possibilities then,” I mutter. A distinct pout is settling in on my face. I can feel the familiar muscles shifting into a ‘woe is me’ expression.

  “Possibly more,” Kegan says with a wink. I stick my tongue out at him.

  “You are as helpful as a log,” Kallen remarks dryly. Turning to his grandmother, he asks, “You have not had a vision regarding any of this?” Yeah, that does seem strange.

  Isla shakes her head. “I seem to be blind now when it comes to Xandra’s fate. I rarely have a vision of her future.”

  Huh. I wonder why. Looking at Kallen again, I say, “Maybe you could send a message to Raziel and Adriel. He’d certainly know what’s going on.”

  Kallen gives me a raised brow. “Do you honestly think he would tell you?”

  My shoulders slump. “No.” Raziel has a very strict personal code regarding his omniscience. He doesn’t ever share what he knows. Period. Sometimes he gives hints, but I doubt he’d be very cooperative in this situation. First of all, he and Adriel are off somewhere in the realm appreciating their newfound love for each other. It would be rude to interrupt that just to pick Raziel’s brain. Secondly, Adriel would tell me to buck up and figure it out for myself instead of being a whiny pest. I love her to death, no pun intended, but the Angel of Death is definitely a believer in tough love. If I don’t at least try to work it out on my own, she won’t help, and Raziel would most likely take her side. I understand she just wants me to be strong enough to handle my destiny but sometimes it’s really frustrating. “Then how do we figure it out?”

  “Would the creature have knowledge of its maker?” Kallen asks.

  Tabitha shakes her head. “It is not a spell that takes effect immediately. It must grow.”

  “Grow?” I ask, thinking of someone planting a little Tasmanian devil embryo in the ground and watering it daily until it blossoms. That’s probably not the type of growing she’s talking about though.

  “The chosen animal is lured into a magical trap where it stays for three days while the magic basically changes its brain, making it a sentient being,” she explains.

  Oh, I guess I wasn’t too far off the mark. Just no watering involved. “How can they just create a consciousness?” There are some things I am sure magic simply cannot do. This is, or should be, one of them.

  A twitch at the side of Isla’s lip is surprising. Not in a good way. I’m positive I am not going to like the next words falling from her lips. “The spell must be performed with an aspect of the intended,” she says. Since I have no idea what that means, I’m not sure if I should be insulted by those words or not.

  “Are you trying to make the girl’s head explode?” Tabitha asks. Hey, I think that was an insult.

  Still trying not to smile or worse, laugh, Isla says, “Something biological, something containing genetic code, must be used to carry out the spell. This allows the familiar to absorb its personality from its intended master.”

  It takes a moment for that to sink in. Kegan’s snicker tells me that it didn’t take as long for him. I notice Kallen’s lips starting to twitch as well. He’s smart enough not to laugh. “So, what you are saying is that my familiar has my personality?” I guess it was not as ironic as I thought that the creature is sarcastic.

  “Precisely,” Isla says with a slight nod.

  “Oh.” Great. I suspect living with a replica of myself will not be easy.

  “Now you will feel our pain,” Kegan says and I shoot him an evil glare. He just snickers.

  “Don’t you have hand-fasting stuff to do?” I ask.

  Kegan pushes his stool back from the island counter. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” he says, still grinning but smart enough to know when to retreat.

  Kallen clears his throat. I’m pretty sure he’s trying to shove his laughter back down his gullet. “Moving on, is there anything we can do to determine who is behind this?”

  Tabitha shakes her head. “Not that I can think of,” she says grimly, her eyes not leaving the bacon she is now flipping in a frying pan. She can’t stay still for long. I wonder if Fairies get ADD.

  “Grandmother?” Kallen says.

  She also shakes her head. “I am afraid not.”

  Most people my age are still battling acne and partying until they are stupid. Me? I get freaky little animals made from my own personality and fairly regular death threats. It’s a damn good thing there’s a flip side to my life that balances things out. I look up into the eyes of one of them and he gives me a reassuring smile. God, I love him.

  A new thought strikes me. “I’m the only person that it minds, right? The person who made it has no control over the creature?”

  Isla looks at me peculiarly. “That is an interesting question.” I get the impression she’s impressed that I asked an intelligent question. I’m kind of insulted.

  “And that’s not an answer,” I mumble. My snide words earn me a stern look.

  Tabitha snorts. “You sure have a lot to handle if the creature has no control over its mouth like you.” She looks more amused than stern.

  “Familiar magic is very old and I have limited knowledge of it. I am afraid there is not much I can tell you. Perhaps you and Kallen can spend the day in the archives in the palace and do some research,” Isla says.

  Wonderful. A day in the palace with dear old Dad. I still can’t really think of him that way, as my father. Things have been less tense since my ghostly parents left for a ‘walkabout’, but I still haven’t figured out what my place is in the big scheme of things in this realm or how I feel about Dagda. I certainly don’t feel like a princess whether I am by birth or not. I’m also sure Dagda has a list of things I should be doing, but my heart really isn’t in it. I have a destiny that involves bringing harmony among the many realms, not wearing diamond studded tiaras and fake smiles. I’m not even very good at the ‘princess wave’ that is supposed to keep your hand from getting carpal tunnel from all the parading about and greeting people.

  “There is a great amount of information on both light and dark magic in the archives,” Kallen says, apparently feeling my resistance to going to the palace.

  I sigh. “Sure, let’s go and get this over with.”

  “Not before you eat breakfast,” Tabitha said. She has prepared enough food for an army.

  “Everyone is certainly up early this morning,” a man’s voice says from the doorway. Garren is leaning against the door jamb dressed in nothing but shorts. Wow, for an old guy he still looks damn good. His black hair is salt and pepper like Isla’s and is a little on the long side for a Fairy, but in a good way. With his lean muscular build, vibrant green eyes and strong, classical bone structure he could easily pass for Zeus. Isla’s surreptitious glances at his phy
sique tell me she feels the same way. He’s been trying so hard to get back into her good graces. If he is going to be walking around like this all the time, it might not take her as long to come around. I try not to smile as Isla pulls on her stony façade so no one will think she’s caving.

  “We are early risers,” Isla says stiffly.

  “Extra early this morning, thanks to my new ‘little friend’.,” I say, grabbing for a piece of toast Tabitha just set on the countertop. It’s smeared with honey, my favorite. “Someone gave me a present.” I take a bite of my toast and my stomach growls in appreciation.

  “A present?” Garren says, coming farther into the room. He sits on the stool next to Isla and she stiffens even more. If she keeps going she’ll be Pinocchio in reverse. We’ll have to put marionette strings on her so she can move.