I turned to Kin and motioned for him to enter the circle. "I think you need to be playing the guitar. By itself, it's just an object; the magic is released when you play."
Kin looked as though he'd rather walk through a snake pit than step inside the pentacle, but he resolved himself, stepped across the line, and picked up the cursed instrument. I called to the goddesses of the east once more, and as I dipped my fingers into the water Kin began to play.
The scrying crystal hummed with energy, and I felt it touch down heavily and then still, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the guitar. At Driven, the symbols wafting from the strings were red, but now they had turned black and had a nearly solid quality that seemed to be growing in intensity. What that meant, I couldn't say, but it didn't seem to point toward anything good.
"You've got to be kidding me." I breathed after finally checking Striker's location on the map. "The pendulum is resting right on top of Serena Snodgrass' house."
"Who is Serena Snodgrass?" Kin asked, laying the guitar back inside the case and closing the lid with a bit more force than necessary.
Vaeta stepped out of the shadows from where she had been watching me work the spell, and let her opinion be known. "Of course that little wench is involved. I knew she was bad news the minute I laid eyes on her. Let's bring this fight to them. You all take care of Jett Striker; I call dibs on Serena. Nobody messes with my goddaughter and gets away with it!"
Utter silence followed Vaeta's proclamation, and I quickly wiped a tear away from the corner of my eye; I was touched that Vaeta had referred to me as her goddaughter. I strode across the room and hugged her, hard. Vaeta stiffened and patted me awkwardly on the back. A small smile twitched across her face and when I let go everyone except Kin got a little teary-eyed.
"That's really sweet of you, but the witch is mine." Clearly, she was afraid of me if she'd had to enlist extra help to mount some kind of sneak attack. Going after Kin was a big mistake. I might be mad at him now, but nobody attacks my boyfriend. Nobody.
Vaeta was all for marching right up to Serena's door and big bad wolfing it down with a mighty wind. There was only one problem with the plan--Serena held a wild card.
"Vaeta, what else do you know about Striker?"
"Not a lot. I've seen him around," her shrug was noncommittal.
"Around where? I'll admit I've been curious about where it is that you flit off to when you're not here." Evian threw down the challenge. "Why don't you tell us, because I know you're not going home; I'd smell Faelands on you."
"You're not the boss of me. I have friends in this world. At the edges of it anyway."
"Aha." A flicker of flame arced from Soleil's pointed finger. "The Fringe."
"The TV show? Didn't that get canceled?" Kin's question made him the object of exasperated looks and he held up both hands in surrender. "Never mind."
"It's the place where the human and Fae worlds meet. Not everyone can pass through the in between. I'm not even sure if I can, and I'm of the blood, which means Striker has more magic than me. I know for a fact that Serena Snodgrass isn't powerful enough to cross the barrier."
"Who is Serena Snodgrass?" Kin asked for the third time, clearly in the dark and not happy about it.
"I'll explain on the way."
"On the way where?"
"To the scene of the crime, of course."
"What crime?"
My answer was a dark look.
Chapter Twenty-Five
There was nothing more that Vaeta could tell us about Striker. He hung out in the Fringe, had exceedingly poor taste in women, and had warped the enchantment on Kin's guitar into something sinister. Those facts remained undisputed; his motivations for tampering with the instrument were something only he could explain, but all I could see was Serena's mocking face, and nothing would sway me from believing she was at the bottom of everything.
Fury carried me right up to her doorstep, Kin trailing along behind with the guitar slung across his back. When the four faeries had taken their smaller form, he'd gone silent and wide-eyed.
"Get your game face on," I shot the terse order at him. Deer in headlights was not his best look. "If things get ugly, you walk away. Run if you have to." The worst Serena could do was cover him in warts. Striker might do a lot more.
Vaeta settled on my shoulder and used her power to amplify my voice, "Serena Swampgrass. Get out here now." Terra added a localized ground shake to the effect.
A curtain twitched aside to show Serena's sharp features and beady eyes. I cocked an aggressive pose and crooked my finger at her in the come here signal. When she didn't move immediately, I flashed her a different gesture, using a different finger. That one did the trick.
The curtain swished closed about a second before the front door discharged a hundred pounds worth of spitting witch.
"How dare you come to my house and threaten me, Lexi Balefire. I'll..." Serena marched down the steps, strode right up to me, and leaned in close.
"You'll what?" I took a step toward her. "I'd really like to hear just what it is you're planning to do."
The answer was a low growl and her hand reaching for my hair, only to stop short when Kin's fingers closed around her wrist.
"Don't even think about it," he gritted out from between his teeth.
"Who are you? Lexi's lapdog?" Serena yanked her hand from his grasp and took a step back to tilt her head and look up at his face. "You don't look like the biggest idiot in the world, so I know you can't actually be involved with her."
"Don't play dumb, swamp thing. I know you had something to do with the curse on Kin's guitar." Power gathered in me like a crouching panther waiting to pounce. It prickled across my skin, leaving every tiny hair standing on end. Beside me, Kin shivered but stood strong. Serena ran one hand up and down her other arm as though remembering the aftermath of the last time she had faced me. I saw indecision on her face and a measure of fear that sent a dark thrill through me. My wicked nature?
"You are completely delusional. I never laid a finger on that guitar." The slight emphasis on the word I condemned her. "Now get off my property."
"Oh, I don't think so," I said and gave a subtle nod. Four tiny streaks buzzed past Serena's head. Seconds later, a male voice loosed a string of naughty words inside the house. Flashes of light and booming sounds echoed out the front door while Serena shrieked.
"You leave him alone. Get out of my house." The gangly witch turned to dash back inside, but before she got to the steps, a dark-haired man shot out the door. A puff of smoke billowed out behind him. Good grief, had Soleil set his pants on fire? It looked like it. She zapped him again, I think just for the fun of it, and he yelped.
"You little bitch, you have no idea who you're messing with." The man, Jett Striker, I presumed, picked up a stick and took aim at Soleil. The blow, meant to knock her out of the air, never landed. Instead, she and her sisters shot from dragonfly size to their normal height--at least a foot taller than Striker, and she set the stick ablaze. With another oath, he tossed it away and glowered up at her.
Soleil responded by wagging a finger at him, "Naughty, naughty."
Blue eyes blazed from under beetled brows tweezed to sharp arches. I think he was going for evil, but mostly he just looked surprised. Hair blacker than coal flopped over one side of his head; the other was shaved to a stubble.
"Don't you know who I am?" Arrogance curled his lips to a sneer.
I bit my lips hard to keep back the smile when four pairs of sardonic eyebrows raised. "Loki wannabe?" Vaeta queried.
"Captain Jack Sparrow come to life?" Was Terra's guess.
"No, it's Gruber from Die Hard." Soleil giggled while Vaeta frowned. I believe monthly movie nights might have corrupted the faeries.
"Well, if we're going with Alan Rickman references, he's really closer to Snape, only without the redeeming value," Evian added her opinion.
As did I. "No. No. No. Depp comparisons are fine, but you can't taint Rickman's memory
by comparing this...this...thing to him. I simply won't allow it."
"My father is a god, he will smite you if you screw with me." It didn't sound as though Striker was sure of his facts at this point.
"Really? He's welcome to try." Terra sent a waft of butterflies circling his head. When Striker batted at them, the delicate, watercolored cloud morphed into a swarm of bees that angled right for him until Terra flicked a finger and they veered away and over my head. The unintended effect of her action served to draw his attention to me.
"You," he spat venomously. "If it isn't Lexi Balefire." He singsonged my name. "And her entourage. Didn't dare to face me by yourself?"
"Until two hours ago, I didn't even know you existed. Am I supposed to know who you are?" I would have thought I'd remember meeting someone who looked like him, but when I searched my memory it came up blank. Hatred toward me rolled off him in waves, and I wondered how I had managed to so thoroughly piss off someone I'd never even met. Apparently, I was gifted. That kind of animosity was usually reserved for mortal enemies like Serena and me. Or for family. Jett Striker fit neither definition. "Wait, let me guess. You were in love with one of my clients and I matched her..." at his nasty look, I revised, "...or him with someone else."
"You really don't know who I am, do you?" Striker's eyes burned against skin artfully paled with makeup. I nudged Kin closer toward Evian for protection.
"I've got better things to do than stand around on Serena's front lawn having a spitting contest with some dude who bears a grudge against me for something I don't even remember doing. What are the chances you're going to be decent and remove the curse from Kin's guitar?" It was a mystery to me why I bothered asking. Striker was hellbent on making me pay for whatever he thought I'd done to him.
Serena draped herself over Jett, who largely ignored the toothpick with a head. Honestly, the woman lacked so much as a thimbleful of dignity. I've got shoes with more brains. My matchmaking mojo kicked in to show me what I had already figured out. This man was not Serena's perfect match. Information I absolutely didn't need at that particular moment.
"Nice manners, Sis. I'll make sure to tell Dad you welcomed me with open arms."
I goggled at him. The words were all ones I knew, but in that configuration, they made no sense to me.
"Dad? I don't understand."
"Lexi." Kin came up behind me and snaked his arms around my waist. "Walk away. Whatever is going on here isn't worth it. We'll find another way. Please."
I shrugged off the attempt at emotional support. Alarm bells clanged in my head as I searched Jett's face for any sign of a resemblance. The box labeled Father on my birth certificate was empty. For all I knew, Striker really might be my brother. And wouldn't that just be my luck? I really crapped out in the family department.
"Explain. Now." Magic built inside me, its raw energy just waiting for me to shape it into a weapon.
"Wow, I expected you to be a little quicker on the uptake. Didn't your mother tell you about how she used her youth and beauty to steal our father away from my mother? That's right, little sister, your mother was a home wrecker."
"She was not," I started to defend her hotly, then realized I might be wrong. My mother could have been exactly the kind of person he accused her of being. My mind raced through the possibilities and landed on the obvious. If Striker's statements were true, he could tell me more about my family than I'd ever known before.
My thoughts must have shown on my face because Jett's next words were giddy with triumph. "Not so sure about that, are you, little orphan? And now you're just dying to know, aren't you?" He melted out of Serena's grasp, approached me so swiftly there was no time to dodge and grabbed my wrist.
A shock ran through me at the point of contact. Somewhere in the background, I heard voices calling my name, but at that moment, all I could see was what Striker needed to show me--his life passing before my eyes, in reverse.
Not every detail, mind you--just the highlights that applied to this situation blurred past my mind's eye.
Jett following me around last week with Mona--which confirmed my feeling of being watched that day.
Kin leaning his guitar against the side of a building and turning away to speak to someone. Jett's hands moving over the instrument. I could even see the darkness that flowed from them to sink deep into the wood.
Hatred. Hot and black and fierce. Jett had felt my magic uncurl from where it slept deep inside me. That was the moment I had become a threat. How or why was something he would have to explain.
After that, the images sped up. I saw Jett's hand throw withered flowers down next to a headstone.
Another whirl and the harshly lined face of a contemptuous woman screaming insults grew clear.
Back and back it went in a wash of color and light until the rush of images slowed down to show a shining man who loomed straight and tall. Based on the perspective, I'd have guessed Jett to be no older than three. Pudgy arms shot into my field of vision. The boy begging to be held. The weightless moment when the man obliged.
My father's face was chiseled perfection. Full lips, wide brow, blue eyes with more than a hint of mischief in them. The fond smile for his son flitted when confronted by the boy's mother. Younger now, and without the bitter lines, her face was lovely. Like a TV being turned up, I heard the escalating sound of fighting. Of Jett's mother begging for more attention, for the man not to leave her. It went on for only a few minutes, but felt like more, before the man set Jett gently on his feet and turned away.
The woman, his mother, called out a name as the door closed behind her love for the last time, "Cupid, no."
Cupid? Like God of Love, bow and arrows, hearts and flowers? That Cupid?
Jett released his hold on my arm, taking the images with him.
"Your father was Cupid?"
"Our father, you mean. He dumped my mother and moved on to be with yours." Jett's contempt for me made a little more sense now, given the context.
I closed my eyes; this was a lot to take in. More than I could accept if I'm being honest. "I had no idea." My throat closed and only a whisper came out. "I'm sorry." For what, I couldn't say, but it felt like an apology of some sort was warranted, even if none of this had been my fault. No wonder Jett was bitter. "Why now? You must have known about me all along, so why are you only just coming out of the woodwork now?"
"Oh little sister, you weren't worth my time. Playing at being a Child of Cupid without ever knowing the true power at your disposal? How could I take you seriously when you held yourself back from the one thing that feeds everything you are? How you ever managed to create true love's kiss a few times is beyond me."
"True love's kiss? Isn't that a fairytale?"
Jett turned to Serena, "She lives with faeries and still thinks fairytales are fiction. You were right, she is a backward fool."
The spell on the guitar, I could see now, had been aimed at me, not at Kin. He was just a casualty in a battle I never even knew I was fighting.
Ever get that feeling that you're standing on the edge of a precipice and the least little thing can send you tumbling down? Then you know what I was feeling at that moment.
"My father has not returned to this world since the day your mother died. With him gone, love is slowly seeping away. Watch the news, you can see it happening. Soon everyone will feel as desolate as I do, and when that happens, my father will have to return to put things right."
Meet my half-brother, the cartoon villain, ladies and gentlemen.
"Jett, please. It doesn't have to be this way. Let me help you." I reached out to him.
"Stay away from me. It isn't bad enough that whatever happened with your mother," He spit the word at me, "made my father turn away from me and the rest of the world, but then you go and do father's work for him. I think that's why he won't return. He doesn't need to with the Fate Weaver there to step in and handle things." Fate weaver. Harder than the possible truth that my matches were not as fated as I thought,
those words falling from his lips hit me. I had heard them before. From Vaeta.
Still tightly wound, Jett continued his tirade. "Well, I'm going to put a stop to it. Every time you set up a match that will end in true love's kiss, I'll be there to screw it up. Love took my father from me. Hate will bring him back."
With a flourish that could only have been more melodramatic if he was wearing a cape, Jett stalked back toward Serena's house.
I felt faerie magic building behind me and said, "No, Terra. Let him go."
Chapter Twenty-Six
I don't remember how I got home; all I could think about while the godmothers, Kin, and Salem tried to rouse me from my near catatonic state was the movie reel of Jett's life that wouldn't stop playing on a loop.
Cupid. The God, Cupid, was my father. My father. The word felt strange on my tongue. Does it make sense that throughout my entire life, the question of my paternity had played such a small role in my innermost thoughts and dreams, that I had barely recognized the hole that his lack of presence drilled into my heart?
Given the circumstances, looking for my father should have been the obvious route for me to take; after all, he was the only one of my family not presumed dead. And yet, I never had the inclination--or the means, for that matter. I didn't know thing one about my mother, so where would I have even started?
In the back of my head, I had always figured it'd be up to him to find me if he ever wanted to. As the years went by, I figured he didn't, and drove the thought from my mind. Suddenly, I realized I must be feeling a fraction of what Terra, Soleil, and Evian felt over the last hundred years. We all thought someone had intentionally left us, and we had also learned a hard truth: that person's reason for staying away wasn't that cut and dried.
When I finally came out of my reverie on one of the sofas in the sanctum, it was to find that pandemonium had ensued around me. Salem had reverted to his cat form and was curled up in Kin's arms. Kin had retreated into the furthest corner of the room and pressed himself into a recess between two windows. Frightened didn't begin to describe his expression, and I could detect a hint of something else. Finally present enough to realize the arms around me belonged to Flix, who I assumed had sensed my distress and flitted in to provide assistance, I realized Kin was also jealous despite the fact that this was definitely not the time for that.
A Match Made in Spell (Fate Weaver Book 1) Page 17