First Plane

by Patti Larsen

  “There, you see?” Gram sat back, arms crossed over her chest. “Syd can’t go. End of this ridiculous plan.”

  I spun on Gram with a scowl. “It’s my decision,” I said with more heat than I intended.

  “Your coven comes first.” She shot it back at me like we were firing missiles at each other. It surprised me, since Gram usually had my back.

  “I’m going.” I nodded to Dad who looked sad, but nodded too. I returned my attention to Charlotte. “You’ll be fine.”

  She visibly took a hold of herself and grunted softly in answer.

  Man, was I going to pay for leaving her behind.

  Dad didn’t stay long, promising to come back for us, while he and Mom retreated to the basement. Gram huffed off, her fluffy dressing gown drawn tight around her thin body, flashy striped socks silent on the floor, just how she liked it.

  Meira ran off to her room to change while Charlotte sat, stone faced and gaze locked on anything but me. I left her in the kitchen, Sassafras trailing behind me as I retreated to my own room for a moment to think.

  Surprisingly, my chubby silver Persian didn’t come in with me, but kept sashaying his way down the hall to Meira’s door. I felt a little abandoned, but then again some privacy would be nice.

  I was just stripping off my t-shirt, my black cotton bra strap about to be unhooked when a familiar power touched my mind.

  Syd.

  Why was I blushing? Quaid couldn’t see me standing there half-undressed. And it wasn’t not like he hadn’t seen the full show, not after we’d spent a night together last fall.

  With mixed emotions, a jumble of nerves, frustration, love and anger all piled together, I walled off what I was feeling and let him touch me. Normally he would have been with me all the time, but when he rejected me, my demon severed the magical connection we had and I’d missed the feeling of him ever since. Sure, I still had the family magic to hold him to me, but it wasn’t the same as the intimate thread of magic we’d shared.

  Quaid. Cool, calm, collected. Yay me. How are you? We hadn’t had much contact at school. He was too busy ignoring me in favor of his stupid Enforcer trainee friends.

  I wasn’t bitter.

  He paused. I’m okay, he sent, tentative. Damn, was I broadcasting? But no, my shield was firmly in place.

  Maybe that was the problem. I’d never really tried to hide anything from him before. But could he blame me for being cautious?

  Where are you? He’d vanished from campus the day before I headed home for the holidays and I realized I had no idea where he would go. Could go. His only family was his sister Mia, the Dumont coven leader and she was pretty messed up, hands full with a decaying coven caving in on its own evil. And the kind couple who’d taken him in, Martin and Louisa Vega, members of my coven, were dead, murdered during Mom’s trial in the spring.

  Nowhere. He sounded tired. Sad. Naturally, my heart opened. Sorry to bother you. I’m just checking in to make sure you’re okay.

  He hadn’t cared all semester. And yet, I’d seen enough of him… was he keeping tabs on me? Despite our breakup and the choice he made to leave me, it made me wonder if he still loved me.

  Bad Syd. No going there.

  Everyone has gone home, he sent. I’m just trying to figure out what to do for the holidays.

  Ah. Now we were getting somewhere. My annoyance returned. So I was default girl, huh? Now that honey-blonde with the big rack was with her folks for Christmas, all of a sudden good old Syd was looking better.

  Jerkorama.

  And yet, I couldn’t bring myself to be cruel. He’d spent his whole life alone, with adopted parents who used him for a power source, only to discover they’d murdered his real family. Quaid had never really belonged, not even with the Dumonts. Thankfully not with the Dumonts. The only place he’d really ever found a home was with our coven.

  Why don’t you come to Wilding Springs for Christmas? The offer was out of me and winging its way before I could stop myself.

  Quaid hesitated again, but this time when I spoke up, I tapped into the family magic, feeling better about the idea the more I thought it through.

  The Hayles are still your family, I sent. You’re still tied to our magic until you take your Enforcer vows. You’re very welcome here, Quaid.

  Spoken like a true coven leader.

  I wondered, had I spoken as myself, as the girl who wanted all of a sudden to hug him and kiss him and feel his delicious power wrap me up, would the outcome have been different?

  I felt his rejection the moment he decided. Thank you, but no. Two could play at the tough guy routine, it turned out. I’m going to check in on Mia. Might spend time with her, if I can stand it.

  How is she? I hadn’t had contact with Mia since the night Ameline attacked, taking Rupert, who I knew as Blood and Mia’s last connection to the girl she thought she was, away as her slave. Mia spiraled down into depression, disappearing from school and making it quite clear she wanted to be left alone.

  Since we were both coven leaders, if I pushed her on the issue it could be construed as interference. I had to back down.

  She’s not great, he sent, guilt in his tone. Was he regretting not being there for her, for going on with his own life? A secret, cruel part of me hoped so. I’m worried about her.

  I couldn’t go there. Even talking to Quaid about it might get me in trouble. Well, say hi for me, I sent. And the offer is open.

  That was better. A little less bossy, a little more me. Quaid hugged me gently with his power.

  I might take you up on that, he sent softly.

  Just wait until after tomorrow. I shook my head as I thought. I won’t be around until after that and I’d really like to see you.

  Where are you going? His curiosity perked, almost visible through our connection.

  I filled him in quickly, trying not to come across too excited, but it was harder to hide my enthusiasm than it had been my other emotions.

  Is Ethpeal right? Quaid’s concern touched me like a heated thread through his magic. Is it dangerous?

  I thought about it a moment. I don’t see how, I sent. We’ll be with Dad, going to the most secure building on Demonicon, the royal palace. Unless there’s some civil unrest he’s failed to tell us about—and trust me, Dad wouldn’t—the only real concern is getting us home before dark so we don’t test the whole legend thingie.

  Okay, he sent. Just be careful. And watch your back.

  I will. I paused a moment, so many things I wanted to tell him welling inside me, but knowing I couldn’t go there. He’d made his choice.

  And from the sadness in his tone, he was struggling too. I might see you.

  I hope so.

  His power hugged me again before he left me and I spent a long time sitting on the edge of my bed with a fresh t-shirt in my hands, unable to focus enough to put it on, my heart full of Quaid all over again.

  Damn him.

  ***

  Chapter Three

  I have no idea what I was thinking as I finally pulled myself together enough to finish dressing. All I knew was my temper was rising and I needed to vent.

  How dare Quaid reach for me after all this time, be nice, sweet even, worry about me? Treat me like there might still be something between us, hug me for goodness sakes? Twice? I wanted to be mad, to rage to someone about his absolute arrogance and could only think of one person who would listen to me in this shape.

  Liam came right to the entry of the cavern as I stormed my way through the shields and he just stood there, his mouth open a little, eyes wide as I dove right into what became a ten-minute rant about Quaid and what a jerk he was.

  “… arrogant, bossy, over bearing, how dare he think he can just contact me and everything’s all freaking okay and crap? Because it’s not okay, not even a little bit, him and his high and mighty jerkathonabration of three whole months being a total ass not even giving me the time of day, flaunting around with those Enforcer friends of his. Who aren’t, by th
e way. Trainees. Yeah. Trainees who think everyone around them should give a rat’s furry behind. Jerkwads in training more like.”

  Not like Liam hadn’t heard this particular performance before. Every slight, imagined or otherwise, Liam was my go-to guy. He listened with sympathy, agreed with me Quaid was an absolute ass who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as me and held me when my typical raving wound down into a tear-soaked sob fest.

  But when I spun to fire off another nasty line, I saw the hurt and anger in Liam’s face, sharp enough it brought me to an abrupt halt.

  “What?” I held up both hands while Charlotte sat down on the floor next to Galleytrot and gave his big head a good scratch, face expressionless even as the black dog’s eyes flared with red fire.

  “Nothing.” Liam walked into the library section of the chamber, turning his back to me as he rifled through parchment and quills on his desk. I grabbed his arm and spun him around to face me. Only to wince at the pain on his face.

  “Something,” I said. “Liam.”

  He shrugged, a rather violent gesture for someone normally so sweet and kind. “I’m just getting tired of it, that’s all.”

  “Tired of what?” I’m not normally clueless, but where was the problem? Not like we hadn’t been here before.

  Awareness dawned. Syd, you idiot.

  “You know how I feel about you.” Liam wouldn’t meet my eyes, head down, voice quiet, the rumble of it rough with emotion as he confirmed what my very selfish brain just realized. “And you know I don’t care you don’t feel the same.” He finally looked up, hazel eyes rimmed with moisture. “But when you talk about him all the time…”

  I lurched forward and hugged Liam, pressing my nose into his chest, breathing in the scent of rich earth and fabric softener, feeling his arms around me and kicking myself mentally for hurting the only person who never, ever, hurt me back.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Liam, I’m such a jerk.”

  “No,” he said. “You’re not.” He drew a deep breath, gently pushed me away. Even managed a little smile, bless him. “I’m here for you, no matter what. You can talk to me about anything. Even him.”

  I shook my head. “No more,” I said. “I can’t believe you put up with me for this long. Besides, he made his choice. I just don’t know how to get him out of here.” I thumped one fist against my chest, where my heart pounded painfully once before settling again. “I really want him out.”

  Liam didn’t say anything for a moment, but when he finally spoke, there was so much love in his voice I wanted to cry.

  “No, you don’t,” he said. “But that’s okay.”

  I opened my mouth to protest—was it false protest?—only to have Liam take my hand and smile for real.

  “I know you don’t love me the way I love you,” he said with the same simple, kind, quietness I adored about him. “That you don’t feel for me what you do for Quaid. It’s my own fault for not doing everything I can to let you go. But I can’t help it either. And no matter how much it might hurt at times, I don’t want you out of here either.” He pressed my captured hand to his chest, the beating of his pulse heavy under my palm.

  I was the most horrible person who ever lived.

  Before I could implode from my sheer terribleness, I filled Liam in on the trip to Demonicon, at the very least to change the subject.

  “Just be careful,” he said as he guided me to the exit, Charlotte drifting out into the basement alone to check ahead. Why did everyone keep saying that to me? They were making me nervous. “But have fun, too. I can’t wait to hear what happens.”

  There, see? The perfect guy, really. Equal parts support and concern.

  What the hell was wrong with me I couldn’t feel the same about Liam as he felt for me?

  After another gentle hug, I slipped through the portal and headed for the main floor. But the sound of claws clicking on stone and the huff of hot breath on my hand made me pause. I turned and found Galleytrot on my heels, looking up at me.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  Nothing good ever followed those words.

  “Okay.” I waved Charlotte off and trailed after the big hound into one of the storage rooms. I knew she’d hover outside and hear everything we said, but the one thing I’d learned about Charlotte was she knew how to keep her mouth shut.

  Galleytrot sank to his haunches, fixing me with his endlessly deep black eyes. “I’m worried about Liam.”

  A shot of panic raced through me. “Is he okay?” If anything happened to him, we’d be in so much trouble. He was the last of the O’Danes, the only one who could answer the knock of the Sidhe when it came once a year. Without him, the Gate would open and the Seelie and Unseelie would pour into our world again.

  “It’s not physical.” Galleytrot chuffed softly. “It’s an affliction of the heart.”

  I pulled back. Wasn’t I feeling badly enough already the big mutt had to bring it up?

  “None of your business,” I said. Actually, half snapped, half mumbled.

  “It is my business,” he said. “The health and wellbeing of the Gatekeeper is very important to me.” He sighed out a breath. “To all of us.”

  “I know,” I whispered. “I can’t help it.”

  The dog nodded slowly. “I’m not asking you to change your heart’s desire,” he said. “No one can do that. And trying can be disastrous.” He leaned forward and licked my hand. “I just want you to promise me you won’t break his heart.”

  That was the last thing I wanted, too. So I nodded and watched as Galleytrot left me, padding his enormous way through the door and back across the hall, disappearing in a flash of Sidhe green magic.

  If only I could assure myself I could keep my promise, we’d be all set.

  ***

  Chapter Four

  I took the slow way home, choosing to huddle inside my jacket in the dark, the sparkling lights of the corner trees doing little to elevate my mood. I could have simply rode the veil home again, but like my stomping trip to town hall, I needed the drawn-out foot dragging on my way back just as much.

  My boot caught a clump of snow, now brown from the many car tires splashing old dirt and salt from the roadway to coat the sidewalk in ugly slush. Kind of ruined the pretty, pristine whiteness I loved.

  No metaphors there or anything.

  The house was quiet when I walked in, cheeks cold and hands stuffed in my pockets since I'd forgotten my gloves when I stormed out earlier. I still felt Dad downstairs, but knew I'd be spending lots of time with him in the very near future and decided to let Mom have his sole company for the evening.

  Besides, they didn't need my mood dragging them down.

  I'd made a promise to myself not to wallow, not to doubt myself anymore, and for the most part I was doing a good job upholding that promise. But, other times I found it really hard not to sink into my old patterns of poor me and just curl up in bed with a bag of chips and a really cheesy romance novel I could blubber over.

  Instead, I slipped into my favorite yoga pants and t-shirt and sat at my desk to check my email. Among the spam offering me sexual enhancement aids and Nigerian princes asking me to rescue them, I found myself grinning at several welcomed emails.

  The first was from Tippy Meeks, the well-endowed redhead I'd made friends with thanks to my college roomie, Sashenka Hensley. Her rambling emails were familiar to me, as she went on and on about which boys in her coven she had a total hunger for, how she ruined her favorite pair of heels and all about the after-Christmas shopping she was dying to do. It was enough of a distraction I was giggling at her very naughty description of the guy who lived next door to her who had the habit of leaving his curtains open if she did the same.

  Oh my flaming cheeks.

  The next one was from Mia, short and sweet, wishing me a happy holiday. Nothing personal, not a mention she even wrote it, one coven leader courtesy to another. It broke my heart and I fired off an answer in the same language to her just
so she could keep up whatever appearances she felt she had to.

  Third was from Tallah, our usual political/coven conversation continuation. I adored the leader of the Hensley coven as much as her sister, valued her outlook on the world and her insights into the future of witches once younger generations had control of the covens. There were three of the big six now in the hands of new leaders—if we could count Mia's disastrous attempts to rein in the Dumonts—so we were on a much more even keel when it came to addressing issues at Council.

  Not that I was ever invited to do anything about issues at Council. Erica Plower, Mom's former second and the very person I assigned to take the Hayle coven seat, had a bad habit of treating me like her daughter too, only handing out information as she thought I needed it.

  I didn't push things, partly because Gram was my co-leader and I trusted her not to let Erica run roughshod over the pair of us. Not that I didn't think Erica had our best interests at heart, but she was Mom's best friend and her allegiance was to the Council now.

  The final one I saved for last, happily clicking on Sashenka's message.

  I thought Mia's was short and sweet.

  Skype when you're home?

  I checked and found her online, immediately calling for a face-to-face.

  When she answered, I beamed at her, almost bouncing in my chair I was so happy to see her. We'd gotten off to a rocky start the first of the semester, but since she let go of her need to try to impress me and the pressure her coven leader sister put on her to excel, Sashenka actually turned into a bit of a wild girl and dragged me along with her.

  “Syd!” She waved with enthusiasm, her room bright behind her. She lived in California, four long hours behind me, and the sun still shone in her bedroom window, the ocean just visible on the horizon through her softly undulating curtains.

  “Hey, Shenka.” I rested my chin on my fists. “Man, it looks really nice there.”