by Lila Veen
“I’ve always known, Mother,” I say softly. “Or at least, suspected something. You’ve let people in our home for years and told them things that no ordinary person could know. And Isabel, too, she always knew everything.”
She nods. “It’s true, there were some things you grew up around and were exposed to. But Leah, if you knew everything, you would run back to Chicago and forget you ever knew any of us.”
“But I can’t do that now,” I say. I pause. “You say I’ve met my catalyst. And according to Isabel, that ‘ignites’ me.” My mother nods. “Had I never met him, I wouldn’t be able to….”
“Craft?” my mother offers. I nod. “No, probably not. Maybe a little bit, but your true power isn’t realized until you find your catalyst. And my living room wouldn’t be a death trap, currently.”
I start to laugh, perhaps more in shock that my mother made what seems to be an actual joke. She doesn’t join me, obviously not seeing the humor in her own words. “So what if my catalyst is seeing someone else?” I want to know.
My mother raises a delicate golden eyebrow. “Leah, do I really need to explain what meaningless sex is to you at your age?”
“Oh god, please don’t,” I say, flushing. “I get it.”
“It’s all well and good to be with someone who isn’t your catalyst,” my mother explains. “But if two crafters who aren’t catalysts ever potentially reproduce, the result of that union could be fatal.”
I frown. “I’m not sure what you mean. Like a miscarriage?”
She shakes her head. “I’m talking about the dangers of two crafters who aren’t compatible producing a child. The child could be dangerous and out of control.”
“I see,” I say, though my grasp on everything is shaky. “And that happens?”
My mother nods. Her hands tremble as she brings them to her neck to twist her pearls around nervously. “Gabriel Locke,” she whispers.
I put my head in my heads. I feel like my brain might explode. “This is too much information at once, and I need to back up. Let’s go back to Dad. What job are you referring to?”
“Your father was the Keeper of the Legend,” she tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Of, oh course,” I say sarcastically. “How silly of me to not have known that! Is there a children’s book that explains all of this, sort of like those books normal parents give their children to explain puberty and dying pets and stuff?”
“The Legend,” she goes on, ignoring my outburst, “is the only book you’d ever need to understand everything about the Coven. It is your father’s job to keep that book safe and protected and out of the wrong hands. He is the Keeper.”
“This is starting to sound like Ghostbusters,” I say.
“You are asking the questions, and I’m doing my best to explain them,” my mother says, her voice raises slightly in a sing-song pitch to indicate her irritation with me. “If you’re going to stay in Blackwater, you will need to understand what sort of danger you’re in.”
“I’m sorry,” I say softly. “You’re right. I’m just still angry about…everything. Seeing Michael has me on edge. The chandelier exploding was the icing on the cake.”
“I’m not exactly thrilled about that either,” she agrees, smirking. “That was a Maria Theresa crystal and fourteen karat gold chandelier. I doubt I’ll be able to find a replacement easily.”
“I get it, I get it,” I say, rolling my eyes for what seems like the fortieth time during this conversation. “Again, I’m sorry.”
My mother waves a hand dismissively. “Leah, you need to understand, all I’ve ever wanted for you is your safety. Your father and I didn’t choose what we are, but we’ve had to make the best of it. Nothing is what we’ve decided. I’ve never made a decision in my life about what I’ve wanted, it’s all been preordained for me. You can’t choose your catalyst. You can’t choose your elemental. Your father didn’t choose to be Keeper, the Legend chose him. I don’t understand it very well because only a true Keeper can know what it means to protect the Legend.”
“What is the Legend?” I say. “You’re jumping all over the place. Let’s start there.”
“Oh Leah,” she breathes. “The Legend is everything. The origins of the Coven. Folklore and history. Spells. Potions. It’s also maintained by the Keeper, who must record births, deaths, and inductions of all Coven members.”
“And the Coven is what, exactly?” I want to know.
“The Coven is something you’re born into,” my mother explains. “I was born into it, your father was born into it, and you were born into it. It simply means you have an elemental that gives you the ability to craft.”
“What about Heidi?” I interject.
She pauses. “Heidi is not a crafter. She never will be.”
“How do you know that?” I ask her.
“The same way I know that a baby will be a girl, or that you were coming back to Blackwater, or that you were marrying a monster,” she says, looking straight at me. “I just know.”
“How did you know about Michael?” I ask her quietly. “And why didn’t you stop me?”
She shakes her head, looking away from me. I swear there are tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want you to come back and experience what I’ve experienced living here. I thought you could go away and start a life for yourself outside of Blackwater.”
“Why not, Mother?” I say, feeling my jaw clench in anger. “This is my world. If I’m a crafter, if my catalyst is here, why shouldn’t I be a part of it?”
“This is the only world I know,” my mother says. “It’s brought me nothing but pain. Because of this world, I don’t get to be with the man I love. Because of this world, I know things I never wanted to know. Is it so wrong to try and keep you out of it?”
“Yes,” I say. “It is. You’ve deprived me of what is also supposed to be my world. And also, think of my catalyst,” I remind her. “By trying to keep me away, you were depriving him.”
“Ash Lavanne,” my mother says, breathing in. “He’s the one. I’ve always known that.”
I nod, not questioning how she could have known. “I felt…changed, when I met him.”
“You’re drawn to him,” she says. “The same way I was drawn to your father. I should have known better than to think I could keep you away. It was wrong of me to believe I had control over anything.”
“So what about Gabe?” I ask her. “You say he’s a result of two incompatible crafters?”
“Exactly,” she says. “Not that two elementals can’t be combined. Your father was a fire elemental and I’m a water elemental. You’ve always had more of him in you than of me, so I’m not surprised you’re a fire elemental.” I nod, remembering Isabel saying something similar. “It’s not always, but it does happen. Gabe’s father is Oscar Locke. Oscar is the same. A reaper. He found one of the most powerful crafters and took her against her will. Gabe is the result.”
“Who was the woman?” I ask. “Not you?”
“Oh no,” my mother assures me, much to my relief. She stares at me and then lowers her eyes and sighs. “It was Lisette Lavanne, Ash’s mother.”
Chapter 9
It’s been a week since my mother and I had our talk. Since the day Michael came and threatened me, I’ve been on edge ever since. I feel like I’m in limbo, in a constant state of fearing what might be around the corner, whether it’s Gabe the reaper or Michael the asshole.
My mother and I seem to have come to an understanding in our relationship, as long as I don’t bring up the Maria Theresa chandelier. We haven’t spoken much since we sat down in the living room full of broken glass and she told me everything I wanted to know, but I still have so many questions. Unfortunately I’ve been so consumed by my new job at Blackwater Memorial Hospital that I haven’t had much time to spend talking to her, working long hours to clean up the mess that the two ladies in the billing department have made.
The two billing analysts I’ve been asked to assist and potenti
ally supervise are Kelly Price and Linda Vine. Kelly is in her early twenties and originally wanted to be a nurse, but ended up realizing that she actually hates people, which means she and I hit it off right away. She’s a feisty redhead with bright green eyes and the ability to stuff her face with chocolate every ten minutes and never gain a pound. Heidi would despise her.
Linda is my challenge. She’s likely been doing the billing since Winston Churchill was prime minister of England and is incredibly set in her ways. I’m guessing she’s in her seventies, and that’s being generous. Even though she works in a hospital, she smokes like a chimney and reeks of it. Her voice is like sandpaper, and she hasn’t figured out that she has been putting her wig on backward ever since she purchased it. Kelly told me this on my first official day when Linda stepped out for a three cigarette break and now it’s all I notice about Linda is her damn backwards wig. I had a friend in Chicago who was a drag queen and told me that he would do that for bigger hair, but I’m pretty sure that’s not quite what Linda has in mind. I can’t have a conversation with her without staring at her hairline the entire time.
The billing department is actually one long desk in the center of the fourth floor kiosk, with four workstations. The extra station is empty, while Kelly, Linda and I occupy the other three. I sit between Kelly and Linda, acting as an unofficial supervisor, per Gwen’s advice. The nice part about our setup is that we can easily communicate by rolling our chairs over to each other to ask questions and train and learn. The worst part is that we’re pretty much right in the middle of the ICU, which means that the number of dead or dying people that get pushed by our desk is definitely more than I’m comfortable with. That part makes me miss working in an office environment, but the hospital environment looks great on my resume and it’s probably the only job in Blackwater that’s perfect for me.
I’m still in disbelief that there actually was a job available in Blackwater for me at all. It makes me think a lot about my fire elemental and my ability to change things…did I make this job happen? Isabel thinks I did. Ash mentioned I did when I ran into him the day I got the job and I’ve been questioning it ever since. The important part is that I have a job, so I try not to look a gift horse in the mouth over it.
Gabe has tried calling once. He left a message on my voicemail asking about my health. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t indicate that he was upset or forgiving about what happened on our date, and I haven’t called him back yet. Part of me knows it’s rude not to call, but I can’t pretend I haven’t heard the advice everyone has given me regarding Gabe. I’m a huge procrastinator with everything in my life. Why do today what I can put off until tomorrow? Of course, I’ll use the excuse that I’m so busy if I finally do run into him, which is actually completely true.
I am getting frustrated today, trying to explain something to Linda that she will likely never try and understand. I know she’s capable, but she refuses to learn anything I have to teach her.
“If the NDC is eleven digits, you have to look at the pattern to verify where to put the zero,” I am saying for possibly the sixteenth time today. “It’s all about the format. The 4-4-2 format means you add it in the very first position. The 5-3-2 format means you add in in the first part of the middle segment, which is the sixth position-“
“Can’t you just write it down?” Linda croaks. “Explaining it to me won’t help. You don’t explain things very well.”
I sigh. “Linda, I made you a cheat sheet right here last week. But I’ve been checking all of the HCFA forms you’re filling out and you’re still not adding the eleventh digit where it belongs.”
“Maybe it would be easier,” Kelly offers, “if the pharmacy actually printed the NDC on the prescription correctly to begin with. Then we wouldn’t have to figure out where the zero has to go, and less chance of an error on our end.”
“Actually, I agree,” I say. “But I’m not even sure if the system can handle eleven digits yet.”
“Maybe we should find out,” Kelly decides. Linda has already checked out of the conversation, so Kelly lowers her voice and whispers. “You probably will have more luck getting pharmacy to change their habits than Linda would anyway. And I think you’re explaining it just fine.”
I nod, smiling and knowing what she’s hinting. “Maybe I’ll run down to pharmacy right now and find out. On the third floor, right?”
“Yup, just take the West elevator down to three and it’s the clear glass section to your right. You can’t miss it.”
“Perfect,” I say, standing up and stretching luxuriously. “I could use a walk, anyway. I feel like I haven’t stood up all day.”
“Me either,” Linda says, getting up and taking her coat from the hook behind us. “I’m going for a walk.” Which means she’s going to smoke. Kelly and I roll our eyes and I hide our matching smiles. Kelly turns back to look at her screen and I leave our kiosk, realizing that not standing up all day means I really have to pee.
I stop in the washroom on my way to the west elevator. My days at my new job are flying by, considering how busy I am. After doing my business, I stop for a quick check in the mirror and am horrified by how crazy I look. My hair is uncombed, and I’m pretty sure I only put eye shadow on one eye this morning. I sigh and rub a wet finger on the shadowed eye to attempt to even them out. Then I splash my cheeks with some cold water and comb my hair down with my fingers. It’s managed to tangle itself into complete disarray within the six hours I’ve been at work today. Usually I wash it and go, but often I’ll take the time to brush it after it dries at one point during the day after I get to work. I’ll add it to the list of things I’ve forgotten to do today, along with my right eye, go to the bathroom, and eat. The dark circles under my eyes relay how many hours I’ve spent at the hospital this past week. I manage to get myself looking halfway presentable and head on my way to the elevators to go visit the pharmacy.
Even though it’s only one floor, I don’t feel like going down the stairs. I’ve been warned not to use them by Kelly, who tells me that the stairs are for doctors having extramarital affairs with nurses and also sometimes patients who are lost and not always in the best state of mind. So either you’re going to bump into a sex scene or a psycho, neither of which I care to encounter today. Inside the elevator, I hit the “3” button. I lean against the wall and close my eyes, enjoying having the elevator to myself. When the doors open on the third floor, I must have dozed off, because I hear a very familiar voice saying “Are you getting off or staying on?”
My eyes pop open and I’m face to face with Ash Lavanne, who seems very amused to find me standing up with my eyes closed in an elevator. “Getting off, now that you’re here,” I say, and then turn beet red when I realize how dirty those words sound. Why is it every time I see him I’m flustered in some way? Top it off with looking as crazy as I do right now, and I’m just winning this whole day. I step out of the elevator but he doesn’t get on. “Are you getting on?”
“Not any more, now that you’re here,” he says, echoing my comment with about as much sass as I originally gave him. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks and I bite my lip. “I find it interesting that I would run into you here again. Of course, I was curious to know where you worked within the hospital so I could come and find you and harass you.”
“Well how sweet,” I say sarcastically. I’m secretly pleased, of course. “Here to visit Erika?”
He nods. He stands and leans against the wall with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black leather jacket. Today he’s wearing a white t-shirt, long and slim blue jeans and sneakers. On anyone else, they’d look like clothes. On Ash, they look like they’re designer clothing sewn custom for him. “We had lunch. Of course, I would have preferred to have lunch with you, but you won’t seem to give me the time of day, Miss Holt.”
And I’d have preferred to have you for lunch, I think. “That’s not true,” I protest. Just the way he makes my entire body stir up like I’m on fire makes me
nervous, though. “I’ve been busy.”
“Not with Gabe, I hope?” he asks.
“No, not with Gabe,” I say. “Why? Jealous?”
He nods emphatically, making me laugh. “Insanely.”
“I could say the same about you going to see Erika all of the time,” I reply.
Ash’s eyes glitter as he smiles, his half lidded gaze making me squirm. “I do believe you’re actually flirting, Miss Holt.”
“Maybe I am,” I say. “So what is she to you? Really?”
He smiles and then suddenly reaches out and snatches me by the waist with one snakelike arm and pulls my body right up to his own. I gasp and find myself panting as he lowers his face, pressing his hips directly against mine. My breasts are so close to his chest, they feel crushed against him. “I think we both know,” he says softly in that dark velvet voice, “that anyone else besides you and me is completely irrelevant now that we’ve found each other.”
I look up into his eyes and we are locked together in a moment, oblivious to our surroundings and as he said, no one around matters. His full lips twitch and I want to press my own against them, burrow my fingers in his hair and have him carry me out of here and do very dirty things to me. Instead I am paralyzed by him, waiting for what he will say or do. I wish he will read my mind and give me what I want, and what I feel he wants.
“How can I know that?” I whisper back. “What if it’s all a lie?”
“It’s not,” he says, his words making his lips brush against my own, sending a shiver of pleasure down through me.
“Ash?” I hear a voice say. The bond is severed and we jump back from each other. Erika is standing near us, in her white pharmacist’s coat and her red framed glasses that indicate she’s in work mode. “I thought you’d already left.” She doesn’t sound very upset, but the look she’s giving us is somewhat agitated, making me uncomfortable.
“I ran into Leah,” he says softly, his words and voice warming me. He always calls me “Miss Holt”.