by Lucy True
“Burg.” Jenna clutched at her hand. “Burg, don’t.”
Burgundy shook her head, lips pressed together and eyes pricking with tears. “I have to,” she whispered. “Don’t worry. You’ll get out of here, I promise.”
She rose to her feet, dropping the invisibility. There was no way she could sustain it on Jenna, but she pushed back her worry. The two of them had come in to see what was going on, and she’d sure as hell make sure two of them went out. She tapped Jenna on the shoulder and exchanged one last bit of magickal energy with her, the teleport spell that would send Jenna to Rock Grove.
“You want the truth?” she called out the moment the succubus disappeared. “Then I’m here to give it to you.”
All eyes turned to her, but Burgundy refused to stay in one place. She stepped up on top of the divider between the audience and the Council floor, dropped down to the floor, and strode around behind the Council until she approached the witness stand.
Charlotte looked down at her, large brown eyes now soft and tear-filled, arms falling to her sides. “Burg, no.”
“This is the best thing I can ever do for you.” Burgundy reached up to lay her hand on Charlotte’s, atop the side of the witness stand. “I love you,” she whispered before teleporting her out of sight. Two friends came in, two went out, as intended. Both Jenna and Charlotte were safely back in Rock Grove, where they belonged.
Burgundy took the vacant witness stand and braced her hands against the front of it.
“Look,” she told the Council, meeting the gaze of each and every person, one by one, ending with her grandfather as she spoke, “I know now that I’ve been stubborn and I could have saved my friends a lot of heartache if I’d listened to my aunt. So don’t blame them or Iris Hart or anyone else for what went down when I was here on Beltane. I’m here now to give you what you want. All I ask is that you not bring the people of Rock Grove into this. They literally know nothing. Me, on the other hand? I’ll tell you everything.”
Silas pursed his lips. He had, she thought wildly, the tiniest, pinkest, wettest mouth she’d ever seen when he puckered like that. So gross.
“Is this a confession, Miss Hart?”
“It’s whatever it needs to be to get your Finders the hell out of my town.”
“Very well. Let the record show that Burgundy Jane Hart has confessed her guilt for the crime of being a warlock.”
Burgundy tightened her hands against the smooth wood beneath them. “Excuse me, but how can I be guilty just for being born?”
“Easy.” Silas leaned over his desk, beady eyes locking onto her face. “You should have registered when you were made aware of it, instead of carrying on the ruse of being a witch.”
“Again, how is that my fault when your own daughters A. told me I had to carry on said ruse and B. lied to you in the first place?” She almost hated to throw Iris under the bus. As for her own mother? Fuck her. Lily clearly had and always would take care of herself first, with no regard for Burgundy or her well-being.
That argument didn’t seem to move Silas, either, because he simply sat back in his seat and smiled down at her. “The point is, we have a confessed warlock in our presence. Since you have admitted it, you will be taken into custody until further notice. You will be registered, as our laws dictate, so all witches are aware of your existence.”
As horrifying as the situation was, Burgundy couldn’t help but ask, “You seriously keep a warlock registry? I thought you were joking.”
“The people have a right to know who among them is dangerous.”
Burgundy closed her eyes as someone – a Finder, she guessed – grabbed her wrists and drew them behind her back. “I see. We haven’t committed actual crimes, yet you want to track us in case we ever do. That way, you can tell the supernatural world you told them so and find another reason to wipe us out. Nice. Way to cover up the real reason for a registry. Question – is there any way to get out of this registering thing?”
Her grandfather sneered down at her as handcuffs snapped into place, cold, hard, and tight on her wrists. “No.”
“Great, so what do you need – name, date of birth, blood type?”
“A sample of your magick will do nicely, to start with. Take her away and prepare for the registration process,” Silas commanded grandly, even going so far as to wave them off.
Burgundy went without resisting, keeping in mind what Jenna had told her. She’d come here to solve one problem, knowing full well she’d trade that for a bigger one. Whatever.
What mattered now was that the problem was no longer Rock Grove’s. It was her own, the way it should be. Just like the way her aunt had held her back from her potential, had forced her into not even being able to access her full power even when the people she loved needed it the most.
Being imprisoned might be one problem, yeah.
But that second one? That was the problem she’d really come here to resolve.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The first thing they did was throw her into an actual dungeon. Burgundy didn’t mind that so much. It was a novel experience, really, and one she doubted most people got to try in this day and age.
She paced around the cell, sliding her fingers over the damp, stone walls. There was even a little window that let in the moonlight. Neat! Five-star accommodations! Someday, maybe a few centuries from now when they let her out of this place, she’d tell Charlotte all about the spectacular view.
For now, though...
A warm, female voice pushed through her musings. “I thought you might want to know that’s the cell your father occupied, too, when he was here.”
“Oh, really?” Burgundy shrugged and continued to run her fingers along the uneven stones. No need to dignify her mother’s presence with a direct gaze yet. “That’s nice. I suppose he’ll agree that the wine selection is lacking, but it’s nice, otherwise.”
“You are so much like him. How is he, by the way?” There was something tight in Lily’s voice, an edge to it that made Burgundy want to chuckle and scream simultaneously. She’d stick with cool, she promised herself. Her mother didn’t deserve even the smallest peek at the conflicting emotions roiling inside her gut.
“I wouldn’t know. The last time I saw him, I was betraying him. That was four months ago.” Oh, and that one time in a vision, but no need to admit that. She finally turned, grinning as she tossed her hair. “How about you, Lily?”
Her mother’s face remained a tense, closed mask. “And Mr. Knight, how is he doing? He always had a thing for Cian Black, you know. Hated me for being the first to get him. Vampires are so petty about things like that.”
Again, Burgundy focused on self-control. She’d heard Mr. Knight’s voice when he talked about Cian, heard the love in it. No indication that he begrudged Lily her romantic conquest, though. “He’s great. Gave me a promotion, you know?”
“I don’t believe that.”
Burgundy moved her touch to the bars. The frigid metal almost burned with cold, but she kept trailing her fingers along them until she stood face to face with her mother.
Curling her hand around one of the bars, she whispered, “I can’t believe you’d do this to me, your own daughter. You gave birth to me, you tried to hide what I am, and then went on your merry little way to become the Council’s lapdog. But it doesn’t end there, does it? No, then you had to go and sell me out to them, not accept any of your own blame in this whole thing, but also hang me out to dry. Is that because Silas is the head of the Witches Council? Do I sense daddy issues, Lily Bloom, or is it because your mommy left you, too?”
Her mother’s fingers folded over hers, but the warmth of her touch offered no comfort. “My mother was murdered, you ungrateful brat,” she gritted out. “And leave my father out of this. I’m doing this because I love you, Burgundy. There’s still time to turn it all around and be the witch you’re capable of, even with that attitude.”
“So the love you have for me dictates that I relegate myself to a
subpar position and never use the magick that I was actually born to use. Nice. And I suppose you love my father the same way, or did once upon a time.”
Her mother’s skin reddened as she turned away, hand slipping from hers. “That was my mistake. Had I known he would breed a warlock on me—”
“He didn’t do it intentionally.”
“Yes, he did!” Lily’s voice reverberated off the walls. “It was completely intentional. That’s how warlocks make other warlocks.”
Burgundy rolled her eyes. She’d known confronting her mother would be tedious, a formality at this point, really. She hadn’t known it’d also be infuriating, as well. “Basic biology, woman. I don’t care how powerful magick is. The Witches Council can’t rip out my reproductive bits with magick any more than a warlock can influence biology. But if I had my pick, I’d certainly take the latter over the former. I’m not looking forward to the bad girl hysterectomy, any more than I’m looking forward to getting ‘registered’.”
After curling her fingers in air quotes, she turned away from her mother, stomach churning more wildly than before. She wanted to throw up, but not in front of that woman. Never in front of her.
“I’m sorry, but you stand accused of being a warlock.” Lily’s voice had returned to normal, followed by a harsh exhalation.
“And you’re the woman who gave birth to me. How nice to be put on spontaneous trial for something I can’t control. That seems fair.”
“When you found out, you should have reported this to someone. Iris...” Lily’s voice caught. “She should have brought you here to report it.”
So someone actually did blame Iris? That was a first. Burgundy turned back to glare at her mother. “I had no idea and Iris never told me about reporting. As for the rest, well, you know better than anyone that my parents weren’t there for me – not you or my father. How could I have known what I was supposed to do, when you were sending your own sister emails telling her to protect me?”
Lily blew out another breath and leaned against the bars, suddenly looking exhausted. “If she’d told me things were getting this bad, I would have urged her to bring you here and tell the truth, instead of pretending otherwise.”
“Are you actually saying I’m not to blame, that this is my aunt’s fault?” For once, it seemed someone was finally listening. Burgundy folded her arms and said, “Aunt Iris did nothing but try to train me as a witch, which was what you wanted for me. I could never do the things she wanted me to do, but I tried. All I admit is ignorance of all of this.”
Maybe she could sway her mother, play upon whatever maternal love might exist in that icy heart of hers. Burgundy waited and, though she told herself not to dare hope, couldn’t help but do it all the same.
Her mother’s nostrils flared and then she shook her head. “Regardless, ignorance of the law is no excuse.”
“Seriously? And who the hell forced that ignorance on me?” Despite every attempt to keep calm, to not let her mother get to her, Burgundy threw herself across the room and gripped the bars of her cell. “You want to blame me so you don’t take the fall, isn’t that right? Some mother. You’re just the walking uterus that happened to shove me out on your way to becoming a Finder.”
Lily’s gaze clouded over, but cleared quickly. “They will do more than register your power. They will strip you of it, so you no longer pose a threat to our way of life.”
Now that was news to Burgundy. News that made her want to throat-punch the woman standing in front of her. “You’re telling me these people are going to take everything I have away from me – my freedom, my organs, even my power – all because of what I might do?”
Throat working, swallowing so hard Burgundy heard the gulp, her mother nodded. “This is for your own good.”
Burgundy shook her head. “Yeah, well, I hope you burn in—”
And then there was fire.
Literal flames bursting into existence all around them, racing around the perimeter of the entire basement room. It encircled the cell, licking at the bars so suddenly, Burgundy had to release them and jump back.
The next rush of fire into the world came in an explosion of heat and rock. Debris rained down from the ceiling and the percussive blast resonated in Burgundy’s head as she crouched, both arms up to shield herself from the crumbling stone wreckage.
“Heya, kid.”
A male voice, Scottish-accented and silky-smooth. When it spoke again, disapproval tinged the words.
“Lily Bloom, where do you get off, treating my daughter like this?”
Burgundy straightened and swept her gaze up and down the man who stood behind her in the cell. But Cian Black only had eyes for Lily. Eyes that shone silver-bright, an indicator that even as he stood there, he was working hard to maintain the power of the fire burning around them.
Then she smelled it and, oh, how wonderful it was. Overlaid on all that scorching heat was the scent of sweet spring rain and earth. True warlock magick. The kind of power that sang beneath her skin, through her bones, and trilled for release.
“She’s my daughter, too, and subject to the laws of the Council,” Lily hissed back. “Laws you believe you can flout.”
Cian scoffed, a low “pffft” that Burgundy heard over the roaring flames. He looked at her and extended his hand. “This time, I don’t think you’re going to say no, are you?”
She knew what he was asking. She’d have to leave it all behind – Rock Grove, her job, her aunt, Charlotte – everything she held dear.
For now.
Burgundy grinned and accepted his hand. “Definitely not.”
“I’m saying no!” Lily shouted. “Don’t do this. Don’t you dare do this, Burgundy Jane Hart!”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Burgundy’s gaze fell back on her mother. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Stop calling me by my full name, as if I’m still a child and you want to put me in time out.”
“But you’re in a world of trouble and it’ll only get worse if you go with him.” Lily glared at her, clutching at the air ineffectually. Shouts rose somewhere beyond them. Finders, Burgundy guessed, who couldn’t get into this area of the basement with the flames blocking the way.
Satisfaction coursed through Burgundy. This was the power of the warlock – hot and a little messy and not to be fucked with.
Lily’s voice broke as she cried out, “I’m begging you, please, don’t go with him! Don’t leave me alone like this!”
“You don’t get a say in the matter. As far as you’re concerned, I’m not a Bloom or a Hart. I’m Burgundy Jane Black, and where I go and what I do is none of your concern.” Burgundy looked again at her father and nodded. “Let’s do this”
The smile he gave her was brilliant and triumphant in the firelight. He waved his other hand in a slow circle and a dot of flickering lightning-blue brilliance appeared in the cell. It stretched and widened until it was the size of a large, oval door. A portal, Burgundy realized, similar to the one she could activate in the secret library.
“Let’s go, then. Places to go, people to see, things to do.” He nodded at Lily. “Well then, you’ll excuse me if I don’t let you register my daughter, as you like to call that whole gruesome process. In fact, if you so much as lay a finger on her, I’ll kill you myself. Oh, and don’t expect a kiss goodbye, either. That knife you thrust in my back still hurts, even after all these years, you cold-hearted bitch.”
Cian turned, released her hand, and stepped through the portal, gone in a flash, and the shimmering blue light returned to its undisturbed state. Waiting for Burgundy.
Burgundy glanced back at the disaster her father had inflicted upon the dungeon. The flames licked up the walls and, while they couldn’t actually burn the stone, they’d charred it, left their mark. All it would take was the right place for the fire to catch and bring down the manor in an inferno. Something she’d love to stick around to see.
Through the heat and smoke, she saw her mother’s face. Tears tracked down it. Cro
codile tears, Burgundy told herself. That, or she was crying about the disaster Cian had created with his fire. But those tears weren’t for love or family.
Because never once had Lily expressed such sentiments.
There was no going back in time or changing the decisions any of them had made, and her mother would have to live with that. But this was Burgundy’s one chance to move forward and she wasn’t about to let it pass her by, unlike last time.
Burgundy stepped through the portal, into another explosion, this one a rainbow of colors and light, and the most amazing power she’d ever felt in her entire life.
Her own power, flowing like a river through her veins, singing promises that she’d see Charlotte and Jenna and all the people she loved soon. Not yet, of course. Not with so much to learn. But a promise of things to come, all the same, shining silver-bright in her own eyes.
Happy Birthday to me.
The End
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Peri, for cajoling, begging, whining, and also yelling sometimes. I’m sorry this took so long and promise Book 3 will happen this year. Really!
Also by the Author
The Faerie Queen
Shadow of Magick
Burgundy Hart Series
The Cupid Conundrum: Burgundy Hart, Book One
The Unlocked Legacy: Burgundy Hart, Book Two
The Firebrand Syndicate: Burgundy Hart, Book Three (coming winter 2018)
About the Author
Lucy True writes quirky urban fantasy and paranormal romance. She also writes contemporary romance as Jea Hawkins.
She is a gamer and lover of history, as well as strange and whimsical things. There should probably be an “I Brake for Cemeteries” bumper sticker on her car. A passionate genealogist, long-time cross-stitcher, and kitchen witch, she lives in rural eastern Nebraska with her sometimes-better half, two witchlings, two cats, and a very loquacious caique.