by Kelly Gay
“You’ll need to shower again, get all this little crud off you,” she mumbled.
“Are you going to answer the question?” I went to the dresser drawer as she sat on the end corner of the bed, her hands tucked together and resting in the crook of her bent knee. She stayed quiet as I jerked on a pair of underwear, boxers, and a T-shirt, as though awaiting the firing squad. She, apparently, had the greatest impression of me.
Being a single parent, I always had to be the bad guy, and I hated that. Yes, I was upset, stunned, and pissed off at the universe for giving my child some kind of ability. But it wasn’t her fault. It was in her bloodline. In the traces of ancient off-world genes passed down from generation to generation since the time of biblical cohabitation when some of the off-worlders chose human mates and produced offspring.
Those old and diluted bloodlines were responsible for creating powers in humans. Clairvoyants, mediums, shamans … The Madigan bunch, however, had the distinction of having not one off-worlder ancestor (which was rare in itself), but two—a Charbydon and an Elysian. It’s what made me the perfect subject for Mynogan’s gene manipulation. It’s what gave my sister her extraordinary abilities. And what had now been passed on to Emma.
I sat back on the bed. “So how long have you known?”
Her lips puckered together, making two dimples in her cheeks, and she scratched the tip of her upturned nose. “I don’t know. For a while now, I guess.” She shrugged. “But I didn’t know I could talk to Brim until a few days after he came home. Well, I mean … it’s not like we can talk to each other, like have conversations and stuff. I can sense what he wants and feels, and he can do the same. Are you mad?”
“I’m not mad, Em,” I began, shaking my head. “Shocked? Yeah. But not mad. How could I be mad that you were born with special abilities?”
“Aunt Bryn calls it a gift.” Her face paled. “I’m sorry, Mom. She understands, and I knew she wouldn’t get upset if I told her. Plus, she kind of sensed it anyway. Well, at least that’s what she said.”
I pulled a wet strand of hair from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear, then reached up to tie the whole damp mess of it into a knot, trying desperately not to feel hurt that I’d been left out by the two of them. “I’m not upset. And I wish you wouldn’t think that’s always going to be my first reaction.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that you were going through all that stuff at work. And you hate Brim. You hate anything to do with crafting …”
I sighed. “Yes, but I love you. And hate is too strong a word. I don’t hate Brim or crafting.”
“You should’ve told me about Daddy.” Her words carved another nice little chunk out of my heart, though rightfully so.
I wanted to back up, to talk more about this communication thing with Brim, but the stark vulnerability in Em’s expression told me that would be a terrible mistake right now. It had taken a lot for her to confront me, first in anger earlier in her bedroom, and now here.
I gave her a sorry smile that would never be enough to convey how I felt. “I wanted to. I planned to. I wanted to give you time to get over what happened with me and your kidnapping. But it never seemed like the right time and then the holidays came and you got the part in the Christmas Day play. I thought maybe after …” I scrubbed both hands down my face and shook my head. “Look, I don’t always make the right decisions, Em. But every decision I do make is out of love and wanting to protect you. Everything I do comes from there. You have to trust me on that.”
She nodded and then asked the one question I knew was coming. “So, what’s wrong with Daddy, anyway? It’s like he’s a whole different person.”
My brow lifted. Yeah. You could say that again.
I took in a deep breath and then let it out. Where to begin? “Well.” I clasped my hands together, trying to simplify. “You know how Daddy wanted us to get back together before?” She nodded, and the urge to sugarcoat things gripped me hard. But I had to trust her, had to trust that she could handle this. “I think he was very sad and very depressed and very … impatient. He thought using off-world means would convince me to give him another chance, and we could all be a family again. Like before.” And I could see in her expression the unspoken thought: If you would’ve taken him back, he wouldn’t have had to. “So … do you know what a Revenant is?”
“Yeah, it’s a spirit being from Charbydon. We learned about them in our off-world studies class at school.” Her brow lifted in understanding, and her entire face went pale, the look of devastation widening her eyes unbearable. “Daddy made a deal with a Revenant, didn’t he? To get us back.”
It was like watching an accident you had no chance of stopping. Her eyes grew big and sad, the tears welling, pooling, until they spilled over in streams that were fed steadily by her broken heart. When her head dropped into her hands and her small shoulders began shaking from the sobs, I stopped thinking and gathered my baby into my arms and rocked her, smoothing her hair, kissing her forehead, and telling her it would be okay, that I loved her, that her father loved her.
When the sobbing stopped, she peeled herself from my arms, wiping her face and then turning around to face me like she had been before. “When did it happen?”
“When he was attacked at the town house, remember? When you were taken. He was dying. He would have died, if the Revenant hadn’t arrived in time.”
Her gaze rooted on the bedspread, but I could see her chewing thoughtfully on the inside of her cheek, a habit she’d picked up from me. “He’s still in there.” She looked back up at me. “Daddy is still there. I can feel him sometimes … like he’s his old self, and not …”
“Rex,” I answered. “Who’s actually okay as far as Revenants go, but don’t tell him I said that or it’ll go straight to his head. He’s staying because he cares about you, Em. More than I think even he realizes. And he’s been keeping the truth from you because I asked him to.” Em nodded, sniffling back tears. “As soon as we can figure out how to fix things, Daddy will be back to normal and Rex will … who knows … find another contract, be on his way to Broadway or the Food Network.”
Emma broke into laughter. “Yeah, no kidding.” And then her bottom lip began to quiver and my heart broke. The tears began again, and she leaned forward. I pulled her back into my arms, holding on tight as she cried.
There was no sense of time as we stayed like that, all my senses focused on her and not the outside world. I breathed her in, everything inside of me hurting and loving at the same time. I rode with those emotions, didn’t try to fight them or control them. Didn’t have to when it came to her. My lips rested on the side of her forehead near her temple, my hand smoothing back the hair from her forehead. Each breath drew her scent inside of me, an instant narcotic that released calming hormones into my system.
My daughter was such a miracle—I wondered if she’d ever realize the indelible impact she had on me.
Sensing that she was coming out of the worst of it, I leaned back and said, “And, for the record, I don’t hate Brim.”
She straightened, her nose red and wet, her bottom lip sucked in, and her eyes slightly swollen. “So can he stay in the house now? He did save your butt.”
I rolled my eyes, but laughed. “I think that was you.” The issue of Brim was serious, and I had to be sure. “Emma, you need to be straight with me about him.”
“Mom, I trust him with my life. He’d never hurt me. I can’t explain it, but everything about him, the way his mind works, his instincts—nothing is hidden from me. There are no doubts in his mind. He’d die for us.” Her look held complete and total honesty. And hope, so much hope. “Please trust me.”
I drew in a deep breath, reached out, and grabbed both sides of her face, pulling her forward so I could kiss her forehead. When I released her, I said, “He can stay in the house.”
“In my room?”
“He can sleep on your rug, but not on the bed. He stays off the bed. He’ll break the bed. And please, pl
ease, please … next time … just run for your room. Promise me.”
“I promise.” She threw her hands into the air and screamed. Then she was hugging me tightly. “Thank you, Mommy! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best mom ever!”
I’m trying, baby, I thought.
I’m trying.
8
As Emma ran out of the room to tell Rex the good news, I remained on the bed filled with dread. I’d lost her once to Mynogan and his cause. And now there was another psychopath threatening our world. Llyran had come into my home, claimed to be the Adonai killer, and invaded my mind. It left me feeling exposed, weak, and just a little neurotic.
The additional guard of Brim, along with Emma’s warded bedroom, was more than enough security, if my daughter was actually in her room at the time of danger. To compensate, she had several amulets of protection, some of the strongest known, all made by the Elders themselves, which she wore at all times except in bed and the shower. But was it enough? I’d been told a thousand times that it was, but …
I grabbed the phone from the nightstand and dialed Aaron’s number, deciding to put a little more protection on my daughter just in case. Everyone involved would most likely sigh and roll their eyes, both at the League of Mages and here at the house, but I didn’t care. He didn’t answer, so I left a detailed message.
Next, I called Titus Mott’s private line, not surprised that he didn’t answer. He was probably off in his mad scientist world working on some experiment—hopefully something that involved a cure for ash. I left a message telling him that Llyran was still in the city and asking him to send the Adonai’s medical file to my office as soon as possible.
Titus had been studying the once-captured Adonai, trying to find a way to identify and neutralize his powers. Our weapons worked well on almost every off-world species, but the highest of each world, the Adonai and the nobles? Not so much. Titus had been trying to give us law enforcement types an edge over the heavy hitters. Maybe there’d be something in the file to help me deal with this one.
Then I went downstairs with my weapon and returned it to the holster in the hall closet, half amused and half horrified that Rex had tried to protect us and shot the ceiling. We were lucky, to say the least. And I realized I’d have to lay some major ground rules with Rex where my weapons were concerned.
Emma was already in the kitchen when I entered and went straight for the leftover lasagna. Once every inch of my plate was covered, I sat at the table, grimacing as the hunger pangs turned painful. Those first few bites actually hurt. It wasn’t until I had at least eight forkfuls in my belly that I began to feel simple hunger versus extreme need.
“Whoa, slow down there, kemosabe,” Rex said, entering the kitchen in dry clothes. He grabbed two bowls from the dishwasher. “There’s no Valium in this entire house, by the way.”
I gave him a sarcastic smile, cheeks full of yummy lasagna.
He ignored me and set two bowls on the table, got some spoons from the silverware drawer, and then pulled the ice cream from the freezer. Emma, I noticed, stayed quiet, standing by the counter just watching Rex as he scooped ice cream into two bowls and then tossed a glance over his shoulder. “You in or what?”
She blinked as though jolted, and then sat down, eyeing him as he ate.
“Okay,” he said finally, noticing she hadn’t touched her ice cream, “what gives?”
Em grabbed her spoon and pushed the scoops around the bowl as I continued to chew. “Mom told me who you really are.” Her voice was quiet and small.
“Oh.” Rex paled. “Shit.” I kicked him under the table. “I mean … well … yeah, about that …” I’d never actually seen Rex at a loss for words before. He dragged a shaky hand through his damp hair and shot me a glare. “Thanks for the warning.” I decided to show mercy and intervene, swallowing my bite and then clearing my throat.
“Can he hear me?” Emma asked before I could speak.
“Uh … well, no I don’t think so.” At her instant disappointment, he hurried on. “But I think he can sense things. You. Your mom. He’s aware, I guess you could say, just not in an active way.”
“So can’t you just leave him?” she asked, and it was Rex’s turn to look hurt.
“Feeling the love right now, ladies. Feelin’ the love.” He plopped his spoon in the bowl, looking totally dejected. “Sure I can leave him. Just feed me some arsenic, stick me under a guillotine, shoot me in—” I kicked him again, this time harder. “Ow! Stop kicking me!”
I’m sure my kid would love to hear that Revenants entered at the brink of death and left on the brink of death. Sure, Rex could heal Will’s body and stay until old age or natural causes took him, but he didn’t have to. If a Revenant wanted to leave, because the body was getting too old and decrepit to enjoy life or for whatever reason, he simply put the host into a suicide type situation or was careless enough that an accident would happen. It was the dark and dirty side of possession, and one of the reasons why soul-bartering was illegal.
“It’s okay,” Em told me. “I know how they leave.” She blinked rapidly and stared down. “I don’t know why I asked that.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said. “Right now, Dad is safe. He’s not going anywhere. And Rex isn’t leaving until we find a way for him to leave safely, without hurting Dad. Right, Rex?”
“I already said as much. I’m not the bad guy here, you know.”
Em nodded to no one in particular, finally spooning a bite of ice cream into her mouth.
For a while, we ate in silence. Until Rex cleared his throat and nudged Emma with his elbow. “So, um, me and you … we’re cool, right?”
The determined gaze she gave him impressed even me. “So long as you keep my dad safe and promise not to leave him. Then, yeah. I guess we’re cool.”
“Cool.”
An uncomfortable few seconds passed before small talk resumed. And when Emma started telling Rex about communicating with Brim, I knew we’d somehow get through this. It wasn’t hard to see the relief. Emma finally understood her odd suspicions and feelings, and Rex was able to be himself, which he’d been all along anyway—so much for the acting skills. And me, I didn’t have to lie anymore or pretend. Still, it was more than odd sitting around the table with my family, with a man that looked and sounded just like my ex-husband, and knowing he was trapped inside there somewhere.
I saw it in Emma’s eyes, too. The curious looks, the sadness, and even the hope when we talked about ways to bring Will back. That was the only thing keeping her together, the knowledge that he was in there somewhere; she could see him, touch him, and know he was safe. And one day he’d be back. And Rex, well, he could charm the pants off anyone, and Emma was no exception. She’d been completely taken with him from the start; she just didn’t fully understand that the craziness was coming from Rex rather than her dad.
After the ice cream was gone, I stood at the sink rinsing the bowls as they went into the backyard to let Brim destroy the bowling ball. Their muffled voices floated through the window, sounding relaxed and easy, above the soft clink of the dishes.
Without warning, my chest constricted, and my throat swelled. Intense loneliness filled me. Tears burned my eyes and I sniffed, finishing my task and then going upstairs to bury my face in my pillow.
For once I wished I had a warm, hard, male body to curl into, to make me feel safe and protected. I had to look out for everyone, to comfort and protect them … but where was my protector?
I stared at the empty spot next to me, remembering Will lying on his back, one leg bent and one arm thrown over his head. How it was the perfect invite for me to scootch over and rest my head on his chest. His arm would come down around me and his hand, warm from sleep, would rub my arm.
Yeah. Lonely. That explains everything.
* * *
My dreams kept me tossing and turning for a large part of the night and morning, my mind playing over disjointed scenes of the warehouse, the hellhound, and L
lyran being pulled through the window and into the darkness.
Aaron had warned me. My blood would make me a target, a beacon to all the psychos and grand-scheming lunatics of the world. Because I was different, seen as an instrument. An anomaly. Something unique and powerful.
Hah. If only they knew how random that power was, and how little I knew to control it.
I rolled over and hit the alarm button before it could ring. Great potential, my ass, I thought, returning to my back and throwing my arms wide with a loud huff, wanting nothing more than to pull the comforter over my head and sleep all day.
I turned my head to snuggle into the pillow, catching movement on my forearm. My skin turned paler, almost a creamy white, as my veins became more prominent. Then they moved, making patterns. “What …”
I shot up, sitting straight, my heart in my throat. What the hell? I blinked hard and then opened my eyes. Nothing. Just my forearm and the long, partially healed scar that ran down the middle where I’d sliced my vein open to bring darkness to the city.
Emma’s door creaked, followed by the tap of Brimstone’s claws on the floor and then the thuds on the stairs as they went down to the back door.
Just blood vessels and my fuzzy morning eyesight, I told myself. Yeah, blood vessels that moved and made linked, script-like patterns.
Just get up and get moving. Get working on the case.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and filed the episode away, making a note to mention the odd visions I’d been having to Aaron at our next training session, then I listened to my inner voice, grabbing my clothes and heading to the downstairs bathroom since mine was partially destroyed.
Once dressed in dark cargo pants and a stretchy white button-down shirt, I twisted up my hair with a clip, put in my diamond studs, and applied a layer of mascara and a quick swipe of clear lip gloss. The aroma of brewing coffee led me to the kitchen where I expected to find Rex tooling around, but he was nowhere in sight. Ravenous, I wolfed down a plain bagel and fixed two cups of coffee, one for Rex, and then leaned against the counter, taking several sips of the thick, hot liquid and feeling infinitely better.