by Patti Larsen
“The next time you interfere with coven business or attack witches or vampires in her territory, she will see to it personally you and your little Brotherhood will be disbanded permanently.”
Mom and her empty threats. Except now I knew how to beat them. Still, as my temper cooled a little, maybe she was right. First things first—finding all of the Brotherhood’s nests so we could wipe them all out at once.
“Please.” Trill let go of her brother, holding out her bloodied hand. Pender stared at it for a long moment while the girl focused on Belaisle. “Where is Nona?”
He looked like he was going to stay silent, but finally blurted, “I don’t know.” My, my, how sullen and bitter he sounded. “She was never in our custody.” A gleam, a moment of triumph as he finished. “But we’re very close to finding your brother.”
“Liar!” Owen surged ahead, Trill catching him and holding him back, though she seemed floored by Belaisle’s words. “He’s dead.”
“He died with our father.” Trill hugged Owen to her, their hurt locking together, building walls no outsider could break through.
“If you say so.” Belaisle’s feral gaze settled on me. “You can have the brats for now,” he said as his people gathered behind him while the coven and clan chose their side, falling in ranks behind me. “But don’t get too comfortable.” He sniffed, ran his arrogant gaze over Pender. “At least I’ll know where to find them when I’m ready for them.”
I glared at Pender who ignored me. Just here to break up the fight, huh? Yeah, nice backup there.
“Consider this a benevolent gesture,” Belaisle said, heavy ring flashing as he gestured toward me grandly. “But don’t push me. And stay out of my way from now on.” His smirk returned. “Maybe your witches will survive another century or so before our new order is imposed.”
“You’re really going to just let him leave?” I prodded Pender with my power. “After he’s threatening us openly like this?”
The leader of the Enforcers didn’t waver. “I have my orders,” he said. “And you, Leader Hayle, have yours.”
I stood there, shaking and overflowing with frustration, hardly containing myself or the rage of my alternate identities as Pender dropped the blue shielding and let the sorcerers walk away.
Belaisle, I sent in a tight whip of magic. I have my own warnings. Stay away from my family and from Wilding Springs. And if I ever see your ugly ass again, you’re a dead man.
Impotent, empty, but I had to. I turned my back on Pender, met Gram’s gaze. Her eyes flickered from the retreating Brotherhood to me, speculation in her eyes. And anger.
Oh, yes. And anger.
“Shall we go home?” I tore open the veil with a snarl from my demon, Charlotte’s hand taking one of mine, Trill’s in the other. “I trust you can return my family the way you brought them, Sebastian?”
He nodded slowly, a frown creasing his handsome face. “Coven leader,” he said.
I felt Pender approach, his mind reaching for mine, but I wasn’t in the mood. Demetrius’s hand hooked around my ankle as I dove into the veil and rudely slammed it shut behind me.
***
Chapter Thirty Seven
Mom’s mind was closed to mine, no matter how hard I tried to reach her. I stood in the back yard where I’d stopped my forward motion from the park after dumping all of us near the edge of our property, the whoosh and sigh of vampires arriving and departing with coven members echoing behind me.
Give me the silent treatment, would she? We’d just see about that.
As much as I agree with you, Gram cut through my irritation as she strolled to my side, striped socks soaked by the early-evening rain I’d missed, give your mother a little slack. And go see her in person if you’re planning on reaming her a new one.
Brilliant idea.
“We have to go.” Trill pulled away from us, hovering with Owen at her side, the glow of the crystal still shining in his hand. “You heard Belaisle. They’ll be coming after us. And if they don’t have Nona,” a single bright spark, that, “we have to get to her before they can track her down for real.”
“On your own?” Sebastian strode from the dark, holding out his hands to her. “When there are those of us who would risk everything to protect you?”
Had already.
“Remember what I said?” I let my temper cool, saving the really good yelling for Mom later. “About trust? And letting us help you build your army? We’re all in this together, Trill.” Even now, more than ever, considering how our magicks worked so well together.
If Mom would just turn us loose, maybe we could send the Brotherhood packing.
Trill hesitated at least, didn’t bolt off like I figured she would. “I wish I knew what to do,” she whispered at last.
My anger swiftly refocused to the one person who could give us answers. “Come with me,” I said, offering her my hand. “Iepa has a lot of explaining to do.”
We left Owen behind for obvious reasons, Gram in charge of putting coffee on and settling the coven in the basement for a debrief while Sebastian accompanied us back to the mansion. As much as I would have loved to watch the coven make small talk with the large group of vampires their leader left behind as a show of solidarity, the sheer ridiculousness of it appealing to my rather odd funny bone, I was much more looking forward to yelling at someone.
And the maji woman who had orchestrated all of this would do.
With the remainder of the clan on guard around the mansion just in case Belaisle didn’t honor the orders of my mother—I was sure he gave her edicts about as much weight as I did—I descended into the chamber below with Trill on one side and Sebastian on the other, Charlotte trailing along behind.
As usual.
Sebastian seemed pensive, quieter than normal, and the attraction typically affecting us both had worn dull enough I noticed. I reached for his hand, felt his fingers tighten on mine and remembered, pulling away again to examine the injury that fed Trill’s power.
The cut was gone. Healed, as though it never existed. Trill noticed me looking from where she followed behind, her voice echoing softly as she spoke.
“Creation magic,” she said. “Tied to the power of the maji. You’re almost there, Syd.”
But where exactly was I going?
The floor of the bottom chamber seemed to hum under our feet as we crossed the threshold. The slab itself glowed with iridescent power, calling us closer. I went with Trill, Sebastian holding back, as the maji girl walked forward, eyes locked on the empty bed of stone. Her gaze lifted, pinpoints of the same rainbow power now glowing inside her brown eyes as she reached for my hand with one while pressing her fingertips to the stone with the other.
Without thinking, I mimicked her motion—
***
Chapter Thirty Eight
—I gasp for air as fire explodes around me, a line of demons falling back, their power recoiling from the group of sorcerers rushing in to kill them. Fear takes over as I lash out with my magic, calling for the creation power I’d felt before, only to find it hollow and echoing, the full brunt of its ability lost to me though I have access to just enough to save my life when the sorcerers turn the demon’s own magic on them, burning them alive.
I stagger free, no sign of Trill or Iepa, the battle raging on around me. My feet skid in blood, over the bodies of fallen Sidhe, their endless lives now done, witches collapsed among them, demons, vampires sagging to ash blowing in the air, making my eyes sting, tears rushing to flow and clear them.
My mind can’t fathom the sound, white noise pressing against my ears, pounding inside my head, the roar of an angry ocean surging in waves of death around me. I spot Trill, crouched and weeping, and rush to her, bending over her, pulling her to her feet and out of the way of a bolt of lightning as it sizzles its way past us and into a cluster of vampires.
I turn away, I can’t watch as the odd bolts of electricity tear the undead soldiers apart.
You know what you must do.
Iepa appears, tears on her face, quiet pain almost an insult in this place of dying. But she’s not talking to me, not even close. You were born to lead the maji, Trillia Zornov, and unless you begin your task, begin to gather your army now, this, Iepa’s arms rise as she turns and gestures around her, will come to pass. And everything will be destroyed.
Trill shakes her head while Iepa’s eyes lock on mine.
Denying your fate will not make this go away, she says.
I find myself laughing, clutched in the arms of hilarity fed by hopelessness, bending in half to hug my ribs as I half-sob, half-cackle. I know what running from my destiny feels like. I can totally empathize. But Iepa is right.
We all have to grow up sometime.
You, Sydlynn, are almost complete. Your time will come, the time when you must stand with Trillia and be her connection to all that is.
That made a whole lot of sense. I don’t know what you mean. I wish I did.
You must accept your creation power, Iepa says, despite the false prejudice of your people. I feel my body begin to rise as she gathers us to her, drawing on her power to raise us above the battle again. I’m happy to be out of it, and yet it’s almost worse in a way. I can now see clearly, from our elevation, just how many of our people are gone.
And how many of the Brotherhood remain to fight.
You will both be needed when the day comes to battle. Iepa’s magic hugs me, calls to me, feels so familiar I want to weep for its loss when she releases me. Sydlynn, you have done your duty for now, protecting Trill from the Brotherhood. But she needs to move on if she is to fulfill her destiny. And you have your own job to do.
Trill bows her head. I will obey, she says.
I feel myself moving, away from the battle, the cool air and smell of stone reaching me as we cross back to the real world.
But not without a warning. Trill, Iepa says. You have thought Owen was your shadow because he is your brother and that is the prophecy. But Belaisle is right. There is another—
***
Chapter Thirty Nine
Demetrius crouched in one corner of the kitchen, keeping out of the way as I said goodbye to the last of the coven, sending them home with smiles and hugs and many thanks, their vampire transportation met with the same level of gratitude. I had many more smiles in return from the undead clan than I expected and wondered if maybe the old class boundaries were finally breaking down.
Would be nice. I liked it when everyone got along.
It wasn’t until Anastasia pressed a cold kiss to my cheek and swept off with the twins Demetrius finally wormed his way out from under the table and came to me, a soft whine escaping his throat, Adam’s apple bobbing in time with the rise and fall of his cry.
Charlotte moved to block him immediately, but I waved her off, taking a seat at the table with Gram watching from where she leaned against the counter, her favorite green mug in her hands, cooling tea untouched as she observed.
Sassafras leaped up beside me, Meira coming to watch as I gestured for Demetrius to join us. He perched on the edge of a chair, amber eyes begging me while his hands folded and refolded on the table before him.
“Fix me.” Not a question, not a demand. A request.
“Are you sure you should?” Meira ignored him, a hard edge to her voice. After all, he’d had Nicholas kidnap her from her own room and shattered Dad’s statue, forcing all of us into a chain of events that drove Dad to the Second Seat on Demonicon. I didn’t blame her for being angry, or Sassafras for the swish of his silver tail, or Charlotte for the way she stared down at the pitiful wreckage of a man with distaste. I knew the weregirl would happily take him out back and do away with him if I asked her to. Even bury the body deep enough no one would ever find it.
But looking into his eyes, feeling his need, allowing my demon to reach out to him and snuffle his power, more, the core of his spirit, even she relented with a soft sigh.
“I’m sure,” I said. “Give me your hand.”
I had no idea what I was doing. After all, my demon did the original deed while outside my person. But I was sure she’d take over when the moment came, and personal contact seemed reasonable.
He reached for me, chipped black nails, more claw-like than human, slid over my skin, the heat of his fingertips scalding with fever. Eager but flinching, turning his head away, Demetrius trusted me and opened his power wide and empty.
Good enough for me. My demon slid inside, around him, pulling out what she’d left behind, drawing it back to her, absorbing that which made him like her on the surface. But only on the surface.
I watched in fascination as his skin paled, eyes fading through the color wheel from amber to yellow to green and finally, the piercing blue I remembered, while his demon horns retreated into his silver hair, the cherubic smile returning to his face as his pale skin settled to a more natural tone.
The scar remained, but was far less noticeable, his delight pulling it wide enough it dimpled his cheek. Demetrius examined his free hand carefully, looked down at his chest inside the filthy t-shirt he wore. His fingers slid over his hair, feeling for horns, came up empty. The beaming excitement he fixed on me was enough to make me smile back.
Demetrius Strong, once my enemy, never my friend, clutched my hand to his face and wept.
“Thank you,” he whispered, blue eyes full of tears. “You fixed me.”
“I promised,” I said. “A Hayle always keeps her promises.”
He bobbed his head, pulled me closer. “I’m not your enemy,” he said. “And I’ll prove it to you, someday.” More coherent already, the man in him emerging now the demon was gone. But how much of him remained and what would his recovery mean for me? “For now, a warning.” He glanced sideways at Gram. “She won’t give up,” he said. “Not ever. Even now she plots against you.”
“Who?” Sassy’s tail twitched though I didn’t need the answer to know who he meant.
“Batsheva.” Her name was a terrible whisper. “But when the time comes, I will do what I can to make sure you have warning. And help from her side.”
I wasn’t holding my breath, but I nodded before retrieving my hand. “Thank you.”
He lurched to his feet, eyeing Charlotte as he headed for the door as though expecting us to stop him. And I probably should have. He had a great deal to answer for, insane or not. But Gram’s slow nod to me was all the encouragement I needed to let him slink out the kitchen door and away into the night.
“Syd,” Sassafras said.
“You’re nuts,” Meira growled. “I would have tortured him for everything he knows.”
I grinned at my feral sister, my furious demon cat.
“One disaster at a time,” I said.
I retreated to the basement as Trill and Owen came downstairs, both showered and dressed. I needed to do the same, but wanted a moment alone.
They helped Meira make dinner, my sister the perfect hostess I’d never be, as Gram and Sassafras joined me downstairs, my bodywere hovering at the top to give us privacy.
I filled them both in on what happened with Trill at the mansion, Iepa’s warnings and how I was to break the most sacred of our laws if we were to defeat the Brotherhood.
Already had.
“No one said a word.” Sassafras paced around the outside edge of the pentagram. “Not one of the Enforcers, none of the family. You used blood magic tonight, Syd. And no one said anything.”
Hard to forget about that, as much as I wanted to. I absently rubbed at the spot where window glass had opened the way for Trill’s power—and mine—and tried not to panic.
“They won’t,” Gram said, eyes narrowed to slits as she tapped her toes on the floor. She’d changed her wet socks, now in purple feather slippers that left little bits of themselves behind as she tippy-tapped. “And I can venture a guess why.”
We both stared at her, me hoping for something that would keep me from the stake. And the flames. And Mom’s disapproval.
Didn’t know which w
ould be worse, honestly.
“It didn’t feel like blood magic.” She looked back and forth between us. Sassy thought about it. Shook his head.
“You’re right,” he said. “It felt different.”
“Balance.” I breathed outward, mentally sending thanks to Iepa, even though I was still miffed with her. “When all of my power was used as it was supposed to be used, I had balance.”
“So no one knows.” Gram hugged herself, did a little jig. “And no one will find out.” A pointed nail jabbed at the two of us, two sharp stabs into the air. “Ever.”
I wished it was that simple. “Gram, I have to talk to Mom about this. We need to find a way to break the geas or next time the Brotherhood will win.”
It wasn’t their magic I feared now. Just their numbers. And the witchly unwillingness to listen to reason even when it meant extinction.
“Agreed,” Gram said. “But slowly, girl. And carefully. Or we’ll start our own little internal war, won’t we? And the Brotherhood wouldn’t be happier if we starting tearing ourselves apart, doing their job for them.”
“While they continue to recruit witches to betray us from inside our covens.” Gram paled, lips tight in anger, Sassafras thudding his tail against the floor so hard I worried he might hurt himself.
***
Not much to say after that. I joined the family for our very late dinner, but retired to the shower myself and my bed just after midnight. I could hear everyone downstairs, the kids settling on the couch, Trill arguing with Meira they weren’t taking her room, Gram’s grumbling as she put her own foot down.
My family. My home. What wouldn’t I do to protect them?
Including using blood magic?
The house had just settled when I felt his touch on my mind. I moved silently, slowly, not my usual break-neck, headlong flight down the stairs to the back door. Didn’t matter. He was waiting for me anyway, in his black robe, dark eyes troubled.
“You were there.” Silly, I’d felt him, behind Pender, the weight of his need for me to be a good girl and play by the rules. Like I’d not recognize him or something.