by Patti Larsen
Quaid didn’t tense, didn’t react, really. Just sighed. “It’s been over for a long time,” he said. Was that regret? “I kept comparing her to you. Drove Payten crazy.”
I choked on a laugh, but held it in even as jealousy—yes, I was jealous of her even though they weren’t together anymore, go figure—popped up and said hello. “Poor her.”
Oh, Syd. Bad girl.
Snort.
“I just want to love you,” he said.
“Me too.” Made sense to me.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” he whispered.
Not going there. So I dragged the subject back.
“Besides,” I said, “we’re young, right? Well, I’ll be young for a long time.” He laughed at last. “No rush. Just the two of us when we can manage it.”
Quaid’s arms hugged me. “I really do love you, Syd.”
When I woke a few hours later and he was gone, I smiled into the darkness, hugging the pillow he’d laid his head on. Not with some silly girl dreams of my prince charming and riding off with him on his white horse. But at the thought of just enjoying Quaid when we were together.
What a novelty. No pressure, no requirements. Just fun. And he was very, very fun to be around. My demon chuckled wickedly while Shaylee flushed and giggled. Only my vampire core remained quiet. As usual.
Stick in the mud.
I rolled over onto my back and stretched, settling into a comfy position, hand brushing over the small box with the silver bow. There was no hurry. And no future. Just the understanding that not everything in my life had to weigh a ton and a half or make me feel like I’d done something wrong.
Twinge. Liam’s handsome face prodded me with some guilt. He still insisted he loved me, immortal or not. But I’d never once made him any promises. In fact, I told him we couldn’t be together now that I knew I’d outlive him by quite probably millennia.
No more guilt. I pulled free the shining ribbon, lifted the lid and peered inside at the pair of pentagram earrings nestled in black velvet. Smiled. Slid them into my ears, fingers rubbing them into place flat against my skin. They were perfect. Or about as perfect as any gift was going to get.
With that, sleep won again.
***
I’m in the veil, but it’s different somehow. Incomplete. No, I’m not in it. I’m creating it.
What the…
You must be careful. I turn toward the voice, see a shape floating next to me in the dark, glowing softly iridescent, all the colors of the rainbow and others for which I have no names.
Of what?
The sound and feel of the shape is feminine. She lifts her arm and points. I see them then, below and before me, two vast armies stretching out over an empty gray plane, facing each other. But they’ve not yet begun to fight. I recognize witches and vampires, Sidhe and demons, other creatures I’ve never laid eyes on, crowding one side. On the other side are humans, feeling empty and cold, though their power crackles around them like electric fire.
You must be ready. My companion’s voice is very sad, makes tears rise in my eyes. The war is coming and you only have a little time left to prepare.
I reach for her, wanting to ask her more questions. War? What war? And who is she, who are they, why are we fighting. But she flickers, waves her hand, and I’m falling, faster and faster, my heart pounding, a shriek of terror escaping me as I flip slowly over and see I’m on Demonicon, plummeting from the side of the Seat mountain, and the ground is right there—
***
Charlotte was beside me when I jerked awake, eyes gushing tears, my chest on fire from my screams. She rarely touched me, but this time she held me close, rocking me gently as I got a freaking grip already.
“Nightmare?” Her wolf flashed in her eyes.
I shook my head. It was too real. “Something’s coming,” I said, trying not to sound too melodramatic.
Fail.
***
Chapter Three
The light of day helped me gain some perspective, wiping away my fear and making me doubt what I’d dreamed.
“You’ve dreamed before,” Charlotte said over a steaming cup of the thickest coffee I’d ever choked on. She insisted on making her own, our American brew just too weak for her Old World tastes. “And those dreams have been warnings, foreshadowings.”
It was kind of nice to have someone in my life who actually believed me when I said something was happening. And yet, I found myself shaking my head as I slid into the seat at the head of the table, my back to the basement door, and toyed with my glass of orange juice. “I dreamed about falling on Demonicon,” I said. “If this was some kind of warning, why did I have the same nightmare at the end of it?”
Yes, nightmare. I’d been having the falling dream pretty regularly since we came home from the other plane. My near-death experience left a stamp of terror on my psyche, the absolute fear I’d felt as I slid over the side of the disabled elevator, protective wards shut down by my murderous cousins always making me shudder, awake or asleep.
“Perhaps.” Charlotte was a were of few words, though her Eastern European accent was strongest when she mulled something over, as if thinking too hard made her revert to her native language.
“At any rate,” I said, the golden juice tart and sweet at the same time as I took a sip, “I hardly have enough information to go on.” Without knowing who the opposing army was, or even what kind of a threat they posed if this warning was the real deal, raising a red flag would likely give me a “cry wolf” complex. No pun intended.
A rush of power outside sent me running, though I knew it wasn’t Quaid in my back yard this time. I stepped through the door in time to hug Meira as she ran from the three Enforcers who escorted her home. She only had one small bag with her. The sight made me a little sad, though I knew it was logical she’d likely go back to Harvard and Mom regularly rather than spending the whole summer with me.
I glanced up at the three black-robed witches and was startled to find Pender Tremere in the lead. He bowed slightly to me, the others following suit as I crossed to shake his hand.
“Nice to see you.” The tall, thin leader of the Enforcer sect’s hand felt cool and dry in mine.
“And you, coven leader,” he said with real warmth. There had been a time he’d tried to help our family against the threat of Batsheva and her evil husband, Dominic, and another when he’d been too weak and bound by the rules of his order to act. But I had to agree with Mom, he was a great choice for leader, sunk into honor and duty as if it was all he had.
I just hoped Quaid wouldn’t turn out like him. There was more to life than being an Enforcer and following the rules.
My eyes flickered to the others and I received another surprise. The honey blonde who hid behind the cowl on the end was none other than Quaid’s old flame.
Interesting. I felt a shot of smugness rush through me at the memory of what he and I had been doing last night and couldn’t resist baiting her.
“Hi, Payten,” I said. “How’s Quaid?”
Her eyes widened, I guessed because I’d addressed her directly. She hesitated before speaking. “He’s wonderful,” she said softly. “I’m very lucky to have him.”
Um. What?
Pender spoke again, distracting me from pinning the hussy to the ground and demanding to know just what she was talking about.
“When would you like me to send Enforcers for Meira?” I turned to him, almost gaping myself, pulling my heart and my wits together.
“I’ll run her back when she’s ready,” I said, grateful for the lightness of my tone. “Thank you for bringing her personally.”
He bowed again. “My pleasure,” he said. “Good day.”
The three left without another word, power surging around them as they shuddered as though holographic and vanished with a soft pop of magic.
I stood there a long moment, listening to the sound of Meira talking to Charlotte, unable to draw deep breaths or find the will to move.
He’d lied to me. Quaid lied openly, with his power touching mine, at a time I didn’t think he should have been able to lie and get away with it. And yet, I couldn’t muster anger, or even sadness. Just a dull numb spreading from my middle outward until I felt disconnected from everything.
Um. Hang on a second. I was trusting some random girl with an obvious like-on for the guy I loved and I was trusting her word over his? From someone who had never lied to me before?
Really? Really. Sheesh. And though the doubt remained, it was diminished enough I could shake my head and poke fun at my own instant jealous breakdown into drama.
I’d be asking him next time I saw him, he could bet on that. But until I did, could see the reaction on his face, feel his magic flinch—or not—I’d give him and our love the benefit of the doubt.
“Syd?” Meira’s hand on my arm snapped me out of it. I turned to her with a smile, hugged her, already feeling better.
“Hey, Meems,” I said. “Want some breakfast?” Whatever hold the news of Quaid’s possible betrayal had over me was broken. Just like that. I guess I’d really meant what I said last night.
Just the two of us when we could manage it. Love and no promises.
Either I could live with it or I couldn’t, and I found I could.
The old me would have fallen into a fit of rage and spent the day in her room sulking and sobbing and beating herself up over being such an idiot. The new me, knowing how little and yet how very much each moment meant, chose to run, laughing, up to Meira’s room and collapse on her bed, to enjoy my sister’s company for the time I had her and not look back.
But I’d be reevaluating my relationship with Quaid the next time he came around.
You betcha.
The only person who seemed unhappy with our choice of hangouts grumbled and spit, his silver tail thrashing against the comforter, ears flat to the sides as demon fire flashed in his eyes. Sassafras had come home from school with me, for the peace and quiet, he said. Tired of Meira’s endless parade of little friends, he said.
I was sure it was because he wanted to keep an eye on me, but I let him have his subterfuge.
Meira squealed with appropriate excitement as she opened my gift to her, sticking her fingers into pots of color, trying out her new eyeliners on the back of her hand. She’d fallen in love with makeup all over again in the last half a year, thanks to our visit on Demonicon. Better she liked it for the right reasons, than because of some evil witches making her feel like she couldn’t be herself. I still owed the Dumont family for their particular brand of torture when Meira had been helpless at camp and brainwashed into hating herself and the rest of the family.
Her hug told me I’d done well. “These colors are perfect for my skin tone,” Meira said like she knew what she was talking about—because I surely didn’t—the palette spread out in front of her. “Both of them.” I had Sashenka, my roommate and bestie, to thank for the choice. She’d taken one look at the handful of makeup I’d been about to buy with a desperate look on my face and firmly removed them from my grip, choosing with care and an amazing eye for detail everything my sister would need for her personas—both human and demon.
Quaid’s gift was a cute t-shirt with a band’s logo on it. The Witch Doctors were a popular rock group made up entirely of coven members from the Courtney family. Meira hugged it to her, the dark blue fabric also perfect for her.
“I’ll kiss him when I see him,” she said, winking slowly.
Um, yeah. Okay. What? Ack.
“So what do you want to do while you’re home?” I rested my head on my hand as Meira reclined back into her pillows, spreading on some lip gloss and smacking her mouth to smooth it around. “Maybe a movie, go to Johnny’s, shopping?”
Her face fell a little. “I don’t have much time,” she said, apology in her words and her voice. “I’m sorry, Syd, but I have to get back.”
Odd how that bothered me more than Quaid’s lies. “Okay,” I said. “What’s up?”
Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward and hugged me. “I’m taking some advanced training,” she said. “I can’t wait!”
Sassy perched nearby, nap disturbed, cleaning one of his spotless front paws with his very pink tongue. “I’m certain that’s why you’re so excited to go back,” he said in his droll and cutting way.
Meira’s blush made her already red-tinted cheeks turn crimson. I looked back and forth between them as Meira squealed his name and threw a small pillow at him. Sassy dodged easily and went back to his cleaning.
“Okay,” I said, grinning myself, “’fess up. What’s so interesting back at Harvard you won’t take time out for your sister?”
Meira stuck her tongue out at me before falling back onto her pillows again with a happy sigh.
“Emery,” she said.
“And what or who exactly is an Emery?” I poked her side, making her squeal and twitch from the tickle.
“Emery Chate,” she said, that dreamy look in her eyes I, myself, knew so well. “He’s a witch.”
Of course he was. I vaguely recalled the three young witches she’d hung out with at the party yesterday. Was one of them a boy?
“Dish,” I demanded. “What’s he like and why is he worthy of my sister?”
“Oh, Syd,” she gushed. “He’s awesome.”
Sure he was. And if he touched her in any way I didn’t like, I’d rip his arms off.
“Go on,” I said.
“He’s a year older,” she said, like that was a big deal, “but they put me up two semesters, so we’re in the same classes.” Glitter sparkled in her eyes. “He likes my horns,” she said.
Oh. My. Swearword. Was Mom not keeping an eye on her? Tell me my little sister wasn’t dating. I was barely ready for me to be dating, damn it.
Breathe, Syd. Just breathe.
Meira went on, oblivious, thankfully. “He’s from a small family,” she said, sliding over so we were face-to-face, playing with the chain of my pentagram necklace. I’d found the gift from Mom before leaving for Demonicon and hadn’t taken it off since, the only real connection I had left to her magic now that she’d withdrawn from me. “I had no idea, did you?”
“What?” At least we weren’t talking about dating anymore.
“There are witches who don’t live in covens.” She seemed appalled at the notion. “Emery’s family is one, though. But he has friends who are on their own, just the immediate mom and dad and kids for support.” We’d both grown up children of the most powerful coven in North America. I had to admit, the idea of not being surrounded by so much magic would have been a bit of a shocker. I’d been powerless once and could only imagine it felt kind of the same.
“There are ten in his coven,” she said. “His mom? She and her sister had a fight and she broke away and made her own family.” Meira looked sad at that. “At least he’s the younger brother of the heir to his, so he understands me.”
“What do you mean?” I didn’t mean to frown at her. Her sadness turned defensive as she let my chain go and shrugged.
“Being second has a stigma,” she said like she knew what that word meant. “Not so bad if you’re a boy, worse if you’re a girl. Knowing you’ll never be leader and all that. Being in your older sibling’s shadow.”
Sassy had fallen very still next to us, staring at her, but I ignored him as I nodded.
“We had this talk, kind of,” I said, “on Demonicon. But Meems, I told you. You’re not second in my eyes. Not ever.”
She actually looked at me like I was a child who needed to be straightened out of my thinking, patting my hand.
“Syd,” she said very slowly, as if I didn’t get it and never would, “I’ll never lead our coven. Even if something happens to you,” she winced a little, “the coven will never accept me. Not looking like this.” She held out her black-fingernailed, red-tinted hands.
Sassy told me as much years ago, back when I just wanted out of the family life, but I’d never believed him. But Meir
a understood. How did she grow up faster than I did?
And yet, she didn’t seem upset or angry. Just so matter of fact I wanted to hug her.
“Meems…” I didn’t know what to say.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re immortal anyway, so it’s not like the coven will be forced to let me down gently. But…”
“What?” I stroked hair back from her cheek, suddenly sad with the way our conversation was going.
“What would you do if I left?” She seemed tense all of a sudden. Was she expecting me to give her a hard time? “If I wanted to start my own coven?”
I leaned forward and gathered her against me, hugging her and kissing her cheek. “I’d miss you like absolute crazy,” I said, eyes tingling with unshed tears, a little hoarse as I went on. “But I’d support you in any way I could. And Meems,” I pulled away a little as Sassy started to purr, “I’d be so proud of you I wouldn’t be able to stand it.”
Meira beamed at me, hugged me back. She’d been through so much in the last few years, I was amazed how mature she’d become.
I wanted to talk about it more, but her computer dinged and she squealed in excitement.
“Emery,” she said before answering the Skype call that basically dismissed me.
I left her to talk to the boy who was certainly the first of many conquests Meira would make and softly closed the door on her, Sassafras weaving out between my legs as we left her to her giggling.
***
Chapter Four
Why was it my default location when I felt sad had Liam in it? Not that I was deep in the doldrums or anything, but thinking about Meira leaving me was enough to set me off in search of comfort.
Didn’t help Gram was still nowhere to be found. The rest of the house felt so quiet. Maybe that was why I couldn’t stand to stay around while the sound of Meira’s laughter and chatter echoed from upstairs like she was in another world.
I sealed the wards on the house as I left, sending her a soft touch of magic to let her know where I was going. She hugged me quickly back, a flash of a very cute guy passing between us before she blocked me out, giggling. I was a little surprised to find Sassafras at my feet, tail twitching, as I locked the kitchen door.