by K W Quinn
She pulled his hand into hers. His throat burned with the things he wanted to say: that he loved her, that he was angry with her, that he was glad his dad was suffering now. But her wide eyes were too wet. The words fizzled on his tongue.
“I wanted Erick. He was a lonely man with an infant son, and he needed a wife. I wanted the stability and reputation of being part of a community that wasn’t always running.”
“Community on the move has actually been the best part of this for me,” Andy said, trying to smile.
“I’m grateful.” She squeezed his fingers tightly.
“Mom.”
“You can stop apologizing. If there is any apology that needs to be given, it’s from me.” She raised her chin and held his gaze.
“Mom, don’t,” Andy protested. “You did the best you could.” It sounded flat to his ears, the phrase worn thin with repetition in his mind.
“You think so? Because I can think of about a million things that I should have done better. To protect you.”
“I think Charly and Amel would object strenuously to that.”
“They did such good work on you. They did what they could with me, but since I don’t have any of Erick’s blood in me, the magic never worked quite as well. I was relieved when Karlos left. I couldn’t protect you both.”
“Karlos?” Andy was ashamed he’d never considered it. He didn’t think his mother was cruel enough to exclude a child because he wasn’t biologically hers, but he’d never considered that she had tried to get magical protection for Karlos. Or herself. He felt selfish and small.
“Of course, but the warding wouldn’t stick. No matter how much I loved him, I had no real claim on him. Blood magic always demands a price.”
“Right.” Andy searched the ashes in his mouth for something to say.
“It wasn’t how I wanted, but I gave you what I could. Mostly.” Her chin trembled, though she bit her lip hard to stop it.
Andy pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly. “Of all the mothers in all the world, you were the one I needed. I wanted so many things, but mostly I wanted this. For you to be free and happy.”
“I am, baby. We both can be.”
“Soon.” Across the fire, Cass leaned into Mama Lori’s embrace. Andy chewed on his thumb. The hope of the world, if they could convince him to do it.
Tutor
“It’s not Air. You can’t fluff it around, Cass.” Amel pinched the bridge of his nose. “You gotta move it like the moon, like the tide. Push and pull,” Amel said firmly, pressing his hands to Cass’s shoulders.
Cass was dripping. He could feel the waves tugging at his legs, but he didn’t feel it anywhere else. It wasn’t in his blood or in his head. He wasn’t a Mistwalker. Amel was convinced because Dez was convinced and also because of something about tea leaves and palm reading that only made sense in retrospect.
Whatever they believed, Cass knew that his life wasn’t for a revolution. He was just himself. A pretty barista who liked art and people. He understood how his mom must have felt all this time.
He wasn’t a world-saving magical being. Marv was the one trying to fund an underground movement to destabilize the Conglomerate. Dez was the one going around stirring up revolutionary thought. He wasn’t any of those things.
Cass was just wet. The waves crested behind him, splashed up against his shoulders, and soaked his hair. There was salt in his mouth and up his nose, and there was seaweed wrapped around his ankle.
Amel droned on, giving explanations that didn’t make any sense. Cass waved his arms the way Amel did, but the waves kept coming, unmoved by Cass’s feeble attempts.
“Shouldn’t Dez be here? She’s actually done this before.” Cass pouted.
Amel scowled. “She’s not un-powerful, but just because she’s a Water doesn’t mean she’d make a good teacher. Hasn’t taught an Air before.”
“And you have? You’re a witch, not an Elemental.”
“Don’t sass me. I’ve studied this longer than you’ve been alive. Twice your lifetime. You have to learn this.”
“I can’t. This isn’t me. I didn’t choose this. Dez is wrong. You all are,” Cass protested.
Over the coast, above some kitschy town with seashells glued to everything, lightning flashed. Amel waved toward it as though it proved his point.
“That’s not me. It’s the middle of autumn. Storms happen.”
Thunder rumbled, and Cass flung his arms up, splashing water.
“I’m not staying here and getting electrocuted for your revolution.” Cass pushed toward the shore, fighting the pull of the waves.
Trudging up the beach, struggling against the weight of the water, he pushed his anger out through his heavy steps. By the time he stepped onto the soft, clingy sand, he was wrung out.
Kaida appeared over a hill, carrying a towel. Cass took it silently, and she fell into step next to him. He rubbed his hair first, then pulled the towel around his shoulders. It wasn’t raining yet, but the storm was moving in their direction. The lightning brightened the low clouds, and Cass frowned.
Kaida frowned, too, holding her elbows in her hands.
“I wanted to blow him out of the water,” Cass said finally. “Just pick him up in a big gust of wind and put him down on the beach. Preferably six miles away and knee-deep in sand,” he grumbled.
“You showed remarkable restraint.”
“What I didn’t show was any ability to work Water. Even damp Air is too weird to manipulate.”
“Hard to believe there’s anything out there weirder than you,” she said lightly.
“Says the woman with blue scales from her wrists to her—”
“Hey,” Kaida cut in. “Where my scales end is a mystery best left to the imagination, all right?”
“Oh, I’ve imagined,” Cass teased and got a gentle elbow in his ribs for the effort, but Kaida was smiling.
If he leaned over right now, he could kiss her. They hadn’t had a chance to talk after Andy’s meddling during show or tell. Was kissing allowed now? She hadn’t minded then. Would she punch him if he tried again?
She twisted her braid through her nimble fingers, and that made Cass let go of his scowl a little. Where could he take her on a date? When would he have time for a date?
He kicked at shells in the sand.
“I’ve never wanted this kind of responsibility. Such an Air thing to say, right?” Her smile pushed some of his anger away. “I don’t want to feel tied down to anything. I want to be free.” He rubbed his tattoo absently, warming his chilled skin.
“Free from responsibility or from everything? Because you take care of Andy like it’s your job, and he nags you like a little old lady.”
“It’s different with Andy. Our mothers are Blood Sisters, so we’ve been sort of forced together our whole lives. Lucky for us, we actually like each other.”
“Blood sisters as opposed to adopted sisters?” Kaida asked with her head tilted toward Cass.
He shook his head, water dripping onto his cheeks. “It’s an Air thing. Like, they’re not sisters by birth, but they chose one another and made a commitment to be, like, friends for life. There’s a ceremony—with blood, obviously—and then they do everything together. Even having kids.”
“Oh. Is Andy your Blood Brother?”
“Not officially. It’s sort of an old-fashioned thing. Not many people do it much anymore, but my mom has always been weirdly traditional.”
Kaida nodded and walked a little closer until their shoulders were pressed together against the cooling evening breeze. “I think it’s nice that you know your traditions, though. From your family. Everything I know about the Kin I’ve learned from books.”
“I take it for granted a lot, for sure, because it’s all I’ve ever known.”
They reached the van, and Cass opened the door for Kaida to climb in. She took a step back, and Cass felt cold drops of rain begin to land on his shoulders.
“I should go to Dez. If it’s goi
ng to storm all night, she’ll want the company. Thunder makes her jumpy,” Kaida said, chewing on her bottom lip. “I would like to stay, but you know.”
When Kaida smiled, Cass couldn’t keep his face from responding in kind.
“Well, after you check on her, come get me, and we’ll all go to the witches’ for dinner.”
“Of course,” she said, and those words made him feel lighter than he had all day.
It wasn’t a long walk from the van to Dez’s camper. They’d all parked under the protective shroud of the witches’ house, but Reyah lingered despite the fat raindrops. She wound her way around sandbanks and kicked at loose tufts of grass.
Min had emphasized capturing this soul in good shape, so she’d used that excuse to linger on this case. Gathering intel, she’d uncovered a potential hub in an organized rebellion.
Getting to know these people and the target was an excellent way to find a weakness, she told herself. She was looking for ways to get under his skin.
But thinking about his skin wasn’t very helpful. She should have just taken the penalty drink and moved on. Why had she kissed him?
At the time, it seemed the safest way to keep cool. If she refused and made a big deal out of it, they would tease her more. They would keep pushing. Better to bite the bullet and get it over with. She didn’t bite the bullet, though. She bit the target.
She didn’t mean to, but it sort of happened. He’d reached for her face, and she’d found herself biting gently on his lower lip. He’d made a noise then that she would be thinking about for years.
She was only staying in character. A confident rich kid looking for herself on a road trip wouldn’t be afraid of a little kiss. She wasn’t afraid of kissing. Kissing was fine.
There were no feelings involved, so there was no reason to be scared. She kissed an attractive person who she had no intention of falling for whatsoever. She was not at all weak for this target.
She needed to find his weakness so she could take the soul from this very dangerous target. So dangerous that he lost his mind over every animal he saw, made friends with babies, charmed little old ladies, and laughed with his whole body.
She needed to protect herself from the way he shook his head to get his hair out of his face and the way he licked his lips when he was thinking. She couldn’t let her defenses down around his golden, nymphlike good looks or his ridiculously goofy antics. She had to play it safe.
Tonight, on the beach, he’d barely been glowing. She’d only noticed because she so rarely noticed the glow at all anymore. It was a part of who he was. He came out of the water looking so dim, her breath froze in her lungs. By the time she’d gotten him back to the van, it was back. Soft and comforting, like his smile. Or his hands.
She shook her head sharply. She needed to be far away before he fell asleep because his dreams were loud and kept her awake. It was probably normal to hear dreams like that.
She’d never encountered it in her studies or on any other case, but she’d also never spent this long getting close to a target before. She’d never been undercover for so long. That was probably why.
He was struggling in his training with Amel, whom Reyah distrusted on general principle. Full-time witches made her nervous. They knew too much and said too little. Amel was a Seer, and that made everything worse. He didn’t seem to take issue with her presence, but Reyah felt jittery around him and Charly. Like meeting the parents of your potential boyfriend.
No. No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t like that at all. It was the witchy stuff. This was a job, and while the witches did tend to dote on Andy and the target like affectionate parents, that had nothing to do with Reyah’s nerves.
Besides, she’d met the mothers. They were warm and moved together like they’d been training since childhood. She didn’t know many mothers outside of movies and TV.
It was a new situation. For all the jobs she’d done, this was still a unique situation. She was just naturally on edge about unknown factors entering her job.
Especially witches. And mothers. And a boy. And a brewing revolution that would put her out of a job that she wasn’t sure she wanted anymore.
“He’s not trying, Charly. So stubborn. Thinks he already knows the answer so he won’t listen to anything I say,” Amel grumbled over tea. Andy watched him curiously. Charly was leaning against the counter, stirring something on the stove that smelled spicy and delicious.
Andy rested his chin in his hands. “Cass is stubborn, but he’s probably scared. This is a huge responsibility.”
“Gotta get used to it. Gotta grow up sometime.”
“No, Amel, he has to choose it,” Charly countered. “We can’t force this on him. And besides, the talent is there. This little storm is proof of that.”
“But he isn’t doing it on purpose,” Andy said. “He doesn’t believe that it’s him.”
“This storm will blow over too soon. No power to it. Not gonna break the Conglomerate with a rain shower,” Amel groused.
“Can Mama Lori really make storms like this too?”
“The extent of her abilities is still unclear,” Charly said, placing each word like he was setting the table for tea royalty. Into his mug, Amel grumbled a string of profanities that made Andy glad he wasn’t on the receiving end of it.
“He’ll find the motivation he needs, Amel. He’s still worried about being chased, I’m sure,” Charly said, looking to Andy for confirmation.
“Honestly, I think the only chasing that concerns him is chasing Kaida.” Andy shrugged.
Amel and Charly fixed him with blank stares.
“Yes, tell us about the dragonkin. She seems nice. Wealthy and shiftless, but nice,” Charly said with sudden sweetness. Fake sweetness.
“She is. Looking for her family or her true self or something. Road trip of self-discovery. I guess it’s a thing rich kids do? She was left on a doorstep in a basket like some sort of fairy tale, and she doesn’t fit in with anyone, I guess. Except with Cass.” Andy rolled his eyes. “He’s blow-drying his hair for her, and she’s all giggles and martial arts and stuff.”
“Jealous?” Amel asked.
Andy rolled his eyes again and reached for his teacup. “That my best friend has a new best friend? Yeah, but it’s Cass. It never lasts. And I know where I stand with him. After all, he gave up his soul for me.”
Amel’s mug clattered on the table.
“Think that has anything to do with this?” he asked Charly, voice cold.
Charly’s face shifted through confusion to suspicion, then settled on resignation. “I don’t know, but you know who will. We’ll have to go.”
Amel nodded grimly, and it was Andy’s turn to be confused and suspicious.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Not we. Us. You stay put. You’re safer here,” Amel said and left the room.
“I’ll pack later tonight. Dinner comes first.” Charly turned back to the stove, talking over his shoulder. “All of you are welcome to stay here for a bit while we take care of this little thing. Go ahead and unpack from the van. We cleaned up some of Amel’s pet projects, so there’s actually a bed to sleep in this time. Unless you prefer the couch?”
Andy shook his head. “You didn’t happen to get a television, too, did you?” Andy asked. Charly scoffed, and Amel shook his head. “Doesn’t hurt to ask.”
“Entertainment isn’t a priority,” Amel said.
“We caught some episodes of stuff in the diners Dez took us to.”
“I’m glad you found a way to make your exile more bearable,” Charly said, rolling his eyes.
“We’re safe here? You didn’t want us to stay before.” Andy asked.
“Well, Dez brought you here, which means Fate is on our side in this somehow. We should only be gone overnight. Any longer and I’d push you back out on the road, but for now, staying where we can find you is more important.” Charly’s fingers twitched, and he mumbled under his breath.
“We should take
Miyana and Helori back. Get them a heavy glamour and let them keep an eye on things in town for us.”
“Isn’t that too risky?” Andy said.
“Well, we trust the ladies to take slightly better care of their protective wards than you did,” Charly said as his eyebrows tried to crawl off his face.
“We’re not gonna send them back into danger unarmed,” Amel added. “We’re recruiting them. Not innocent bystanders. Warriors for the cause.”
Andy squinted at the witches. “But it’s my mom.”
“And we’ve known and loved her for a very long time,” Charly assured him. “Besides, did you think they would just sit here and play house?” Charly snorted.
Andy crossed his arms. Fine. If the moms wanted to go fight, he would let them fight back. But for tonight, he would enjoy the reunion.
Musings
The bell above the door tinkled with a sweet, airy ring. Min groaned in the back room. Just what he didn’t need today. Nosy, meddling, interfering, know-it-all do-gooders.
He wheeled himself to the front and didn’t bother putting on a polite smile. Not that he ever did, but today he especially didn’t bother.
“Minos, what interesting pies do you have your fingers in these days?” the tall one asked.
“None. I don’t like pie, and I don’t like getting my hands messy,” Min responded, crossing his arms and staring down the witches. Which was difficult to do while sitting, but he tried anyway.
“Not what we mean, Min,” the redhead said.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. What do you want to barter this time? I don’t need a new counter-glamour or a security system that makes the worst noise ever.”
“What do you mean? This little bell is the very definition of perfection,” Charly said, crossing his arms too.
“For you,” Min retorted. “For anyone who isn’t you, it makes all manner of obnoxious honk-tweet-bleat noises. Like a petting zoo in a tin can. Seriously, Charly, I know you think you’re hilarious, but most things are only funny to you. Amel, can’t you do something?”