by Alexie Aaron
He looked at her oddly.
“Oh, did I just say that aloud?” she whispered.
“Yes, but I won’t tell,” he promised.
Ted who had escorted Edie up the steps, waited for her and Mark. “Coming? Oh, I should warn you, Mark, that Mia is taken.”
Mark punched Ted in the arm on the way in.
“Ouch,” Ted complained.
“It serves you right,” Mia said, still a bit rattled by the encounter. “Would you like a cup of coffee or is it too hot for that?” she asked their guests.
“Nonsense, a cup of strong coffee is never turned down in our house,” Edie said, looking around. “Mary did a good job. She’s mighty particular who she rents the Sunset Cottage to.”
“It has a name?” Mia asked, delighted.
“Yes. Make sure you take advantage of that deck as the sun goes down. You’ll see why it’s called Sunset Cottage.”
“We will. Please sit down. Excuse our lack of manners. Mia was born in a barn, and I was raised by wolves,” Ted said.
Mia went into the kitchen and pulled out four mugs. She looked over at Mark. “Are you a coffee drinkin’ man or would you rather have a Dr. Pepper?”
“Gran?” Mark looked for permission from Edie.
“You can have one Dr. Pepper,” she said.
Mia reached in the cooler and pulled out an icy can. She looked around and spotted a tea towel and wiped the can free of water before handing it to the kid.
Mark’s and her fingertips touched again. This time an image of an old house briefly clouded her vision.
“You’re full of surprises,” Mia said, shaking her head. “Polite and full of mysteries.”
Mark’s eyes darted to Mia’s husband and back.
“He doesn’t bite, but he does tease,” she warned.
“Edie, how do you drink your coffee?” Mia asked.
“Milk and two sugars, if you have it.”
“I better or Ted would have me drawn and quartered,” Mia said, fixing the mugs. She handed one mug to Mark to take to his grandmother. She walked to Ted, surprised she didn’t trip over her own feet on the way, she was so nervous.
She sat down next to her husband. Ted handed her Brian, and she bounced him on her knee.
“I’m supposed to tell you that the landline is active for local calls. We are in a cell phone dead zone here, according to my grandson. If it’s quiet you’re looking for, you’ll find it here in droves. The television’s crap, but on Wednesday night, my husband digs out his old movie collection and projects them on the garage wall. You’re welcome to come, bring a snack to pass,” she said. “Otherwise, there’s the lake. Mary’s rowboat’s life vests are in the boathouse.” She counted silently on her fingers. “I think that’s all.”
“No computer games,” Mark said quietly.
“Well, that’s a disappointment,” Ted said, more to connect with the boy than to express his feelings.
“You youngsters, wasting your lives in front of a computer.”
Mia squeezed Ted’s thigh as a warning. She said pleasantly, “My husband is a computer genius, so we may have a difference of opinion.”
“Oh my, I put my foot in my mouth,” she said, embarrassed.
“No, it’s okay. I agree that you can lose quality time in the games. I use my abilities to find better ways of communicating,” Ted explained.
Edie was mollified. “That’s nice.”
“We’re here to reconnect with each other,” Mia told them. “Our lives have taken different paths. It was time to regroup.”
Edie nodded. “Very smart, young woman.” She went on to acquaint Ted and Mia with the functions of the temperamental furnace and explained how to get the most out of the old hot water heater. “My husband Sam will be over to show you the boat. He’s up at St. Mathews fixing a leak in the roof right now.”
“We’ll look out for him,” Mia promised and walked the two to the door.
Ted walked them as far as the road. He came back smiling. “Nice folks.”
Mia nodded, yawning.
“You put Brian down, and I’ll finish up here,” he promised.
Mia left him to finish bringing in the gear.
She laid Brian down and smiled down at him. “I think we may want to take advantage of the peace. There’s something brewing down the street that Mommy and Daddy may have to look into.”
“Ooh ooh,” Brian said, and yawned.
“Yes,” she said, tucking him in.
Mia wandered out into the cottage and mentally planned how to secure the place if the dead came a calling.
“Uh oh, you’ve got that gotta-pour-some-salt look on your face. Did the kid scare you?” Ted asked, shutting the outside door.
“No, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared,” Mia said.
“I’m here, Mia. Let me calm your fears,” Ted offered.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this. I see and feel so much,” she said, letting him take her into his arms.
“We can’t save everyone, and not everyone wants to be saved. But after a few days’ rest, we’ll be up to any challenge. Let those shoulders ease,” he said, rubbing them.
Mia listened to his words while feeling his hands on her. She closed her eyes and sighed. The rubbing stopped. Her eyes popped open. She turned around, and Ted was gone.
“What?”
“Sorry, I wanted to give this to you. Rubbing your shoulders reminded me.” He handed her a tissue-wrapped package. “Cid and I were up late last night working on it.”
“So this is from you, or you and Cid?”
“Me, Cid, and Murphy.”
“Now I’m intrigued,” she said and unrolled the paper to find a new scabbard.
“Murphy pointed out to us that you wouldn’t be fighting ghosts up there, so you now have little use for the shotgun,” Ted explained. “I worried that the scabbard that you have would interfere with your wings, so we came up with this.”
Mia pulled off her shirt. She slid the scabbard on and touched her wrists. She glanced at the front windows, and when she saw no one on the deck, she tapped her wrists together and let the wings out.
“Whoa, I’ll never grow tired of that move. Mia, it’s so damn sexy,” he said.
Mia flapped her wings, being careful to not knock over any of the furniture. She brought them in tight behind her and turned around and wiggled her finger.
Ted walked over. Mia rose up off the ground until she was eye level with Ted.
“How are you doing that?”
“I’m not sure, but let’s go with it. Come here,” she said, reaching for him. She kissed him long and hard on the lips before lowering herself to the floor.
Ted ran his hands first along the straps of the scabbard and then lightly along the feathers.
“They’re not papier-mâché, Ted. Dig your hands in,” Mia instructed as she turned around.
He moved his hands over the feathers and stopped where they had become one with Mia’s body. “This is impossible,” he said, sliding his hands under the wings, caressing the back underneath. “The sword would stay here until you needed it. Oh God, Mia, may you never have to use that.”
“I’m not exactly looking forward to it. But it does have its uses.”
“Extend a wing, please?” he asked.
Mia did so. He moved around her body, paying attention again to where it connected to her skin. “Are they heavy? Does this hurt you?”
“No and no,” she said. “When I first took off, it hurt like hell. Fortunately, there was Sariel to stop me from doing it wrong. I guess I should have asked Judy when I first got them, but I wanted to tell you first before even using them.”
“I appreciate the thought, but, baby, wow.”
Mia turned around and brought the wings back in. She left the tattoos to move over her back. “Does this make me a freak in your eyes, Ted?”
“No!” he said excitedly. “I know you’ve been brought up to think that anything outside the norm is s
omehow flawed, but I’ve always seen the beauty in the differences that people have. In the beginning, it was your hair; it was a wicked white, and your eyes were such a unique color of green. And then I got distracted by your tits, but I am a man after all. And now, Mia, you’re fierce yet soft. The feathers feel like… well, feathers, but not like Angelo’s feathers. The wings are not the same either. They are similar to Sariel’s but still different. And you smell different, kind of breezy.”
Mia laughed. “Breezy?”
“Sweet like the wind moving over the grain after a summer’s rain shower,” he said, remembering Kansas.
Mia touched his face and saw the fields and smiled. “We need to go back there for a visit soon.”
“I would love that, Mia. I do get homesick now and again.”
“You sacrificed so much to be with me.”
“I remember you being willing to leave the hollow and come live with me in Kansas.”
“Yes, but that’s different. Wherever you go is home to me because, Ted, you are my home.”
“You mean that, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You’d leave Murphy?”
“Yes.”
“Do you mean that?”
“Yes. Here put your hand here,” she instructed, guiding his hand to her temple. “Ask me something, and I’ll lie to you.”
“My holey socks have disappeared. Did you throw them away?”
“I mended them and put them in your drawer.”
Ted felt the grinding of her jaw.
“What happened to my socks?”
“I stuffed them in a chew toy and gave it to Maggie.”
Ted felt nothing.
“That’s amazing. Not about my lucky socks, but how long have you known about this?”
“Ralph found it one time when I was being questioned about the Jell-O in his white buck shoes.”
Ted shook his head. “Tell me.”
“I hated those shoes, so once when he was visiting, I filled them with lime Jell-O.”
“How old were you?”
“Eight. He was holding my face, looking me in the eye and found me out.”
“So Ralph’s known how to tell if you were lying since you were eight?”
“Yes, that, and the slap on my butt convinced me not to lie to him again.”
“Oh wow, so the great prankster has a way of being found out.”
“Yes. Now ask me about Murphy,” Mia insisted.
Ted lowered his hand. “Mia, I’m not sure that’s right. Murphy has been a part of you for so long.”
Mia grabbed his hands and held them to her face.
Ted didn’t want to, but he saw how determined Mia was. “Mia, if I asked you to leave Murphy, would you?”
“Yes, Ted, I would.”
He was flabbergasted. He held on. “Do you love Stephen Murphy?”
“Yes, Ted, I do.”
“But you love me more?”
“I love you, and I would leave Stephen Murphy if you asked me to,” she answered freely.
“No, I asked you if you were in love with me, Mia.”
“Yes, Ted, I am.”
“Do you love me more than Stephen Murphy?”
Mia thought a moment and smiled.
“Yes, Ted, I do.”
“Oh my god,” he said, pulling away.
Mia watched him, confused by his reaction. He had staggered to the kitchen counter and put a hand on it to steady himself.
“Are you going to barf?” Mia asked, wetting a towel with water. She guided him to the couch and pushed him down. She sat next to him and applied the cloth to his forehead. “You’re starting to give me a complex.”
“You don’t understand,” Ted said. “I married you knowing you loved Murphy, that I would always be second. It was alright with me because, Mia, I wanted you so much. I knew I could make you love me. As time went on, and I saw how you protected him and sacrificed your life for him, I knew that I better just be glad to have what I could have of you.”
“My connection to Murph is complex, but it isn’t a romantic relationship. I would also sacrifice my life for your great-aunt Mildred. It’s who I am. Sure, I care for Murph, but you’re my husband. I wouldn’t have risked my life the other night flying to bring you home if I didn’t love you so much. You hurt me. Wounded me deeper than that witch tree thorn. Roumain knew how to get to me. He knew the single most fear I have, and he used it. I’m afraid of losing you.”
“I’m sorry, Mia.”
“Gee, if I knew you were going to get sick by showing you my tell, I would have kept it secret.”
“I guess this is why we’re here. No Cid to overhear. No Murphy to Whitneyize me.”
“Whitneyize?” Mia asked.
“Whit not only ripped Morris Steel into pieces, but he smashed him into bits too small to pick up. Poor Tom had to burn the place to make sure we didn’t miss anything. We call it Whitneyizing.”
Mia sat back amazed. “He did have a temper, but whoa.”
“Okay, can we get back to me now?” Ted asked, turning her face to him. “When you told me you loved me more than Murphy, it was like all the Christmases rolled into one. It blew my mind.”
“Well, that’s better, Ted. I love you most equals vomit? Nasty equation.”
Ted laughed. “Sorry, oh so sorry.” Ted reached out and pulled Mia over him. “I am honored to be loved by you and out of my mind that you love me a smidge more than the axeman. I was so afraid of losing you that I left. That was horrible of me. I’m sorry.”
“I accept your apology,” Mia said, reaching for her wrist to hide the tattoo.
“Oh no you don’t. I want you to… you know, while all that is going on?”
“Theodore Martin, you are one dirty bird.”
“Takes one to know one,” he replied.
Chapter Seventeen
The amount of information amassed regarding trees was startling. It wasn’t the abundant varieties that contributed to the hundreds of volumes, it was the treatment of them. Every time a heart was cut into one or a rope swing hung, the tree would transform from a giver of shade and oxygen to something entirely else. It also disrupted the life of said tree. And then along came the pagans, good and bad. Additionally, the tree spirits were a disruptive group and had to be listed. Orion put his head in his hands and cried.
“Be careful not a drop falls upon that book,” a voice said from above him. “It will grow a tree instantly.”
He looked up to see a ghost of a man gazing down at him from behind the most enormous glasses he had ever seen.
“I’m sorry, sir. I did not see you here earlier,” Orion said. “I’ve been here for possibly days, and I have lost track of time.”
“Can I help you?”
Orion wasn’t sure he should be encouraging a spirit that resided in the Dark Vault, but he too could expire before he found the answer he sought.
“I have recently encountered a witch tree, and I’m seeking information about it.”
“An unfortunate name for an animus quercus. In ancient times, they were used to send the soul on before the death of the terminal patient. They are the only oak trees that have thorns. They are…”
Orion opened up the lead box and pointed.
“You have one!” the spirit exclaimed. “Pray, tell me about this encounter.”
The spirit listened and asked questions, one of which set Orion to ponder his course. The ghost said, “What you really want is information about the grower of said tree, not the tree itself.”
“Why yes.”
“First of all, the tree is probably not grown by the modern day witch or wiccan. That type of vegetation dishonors the group. Although, since it has been named thus, we will continue. Come, I will take you to where the information on the Cynosura nurserymen are kept.”
“Cynosura?” Orion questioned, feeling his stomach turn over.
“Yes, the Cynosura used to be group of humans, pure of heart, who pledged to point th
e human race to the light; in other words, Polaris. But as their studies increased and wealth and power were amassed, they turned away from the nurturing of the downtrodden. They turned inward and existed for the sole purpose of making sure that they and they alone achieved entry to the ancient houses in Ursa Minor.”
“The Cynosura are still active,” Orion informed the spirit.
“I find this extraordinary. In my lifetime, I had found that evil simply doesn’t last. Empires rise, but they also fall. The Cynosura have been around a long time.”
“The old ones gave their daughters to the breeders of the netherworld and were compensated with long life. A long life, yes, but tinged with evil. The daughters never survive the births, but the Cynosura never were attached to their female offspring anyway. It’s the sons that matter.”
“Where are they hiding?” the spirit asked. “Immortals, even half-cast immortals, would surely be found out.”
“They reside here and there, changing locations when questions are asked. Their male issue go to the best schools, and when they achieve positions of great importance, they give contracts and power to the other Cynosura males.”
“Orion, remember, throughout history the male has been dominant.”
“It shouldn’t be like that. The situation of the world would have been better had both genders been in charge,” Orion argued. “There were two genders created. If God wanted the male to run the place alone, he would have made him asexual.”
“Why are the Cynosura dangerous?”
“They see that the earth’s resources - which they desperately need - are being overused. So they are culling the human herd by the use of social Darwinism. They take away the benefits that allow the poor and the weak to survive. They take away their freedom. They are working towards bringing back feudalism. The ones that serve them will survive, and the others will no longer be cared for. This planet will serve the Cynosura and only the Cynosura.”
They had reached an alcove, and the spirit pointed to a large book. “Here you will find the Cynosura nurserymen.”
“Thank you, sir, you have been most helpful.”
“May I inconvenience you and ask you another question?”
“I’ll do my best to answer it.”