Jen’s eyes lit up at the mention of one of her favorite foods – and the only one Mitch approved of – but she pursed her lips. Negotiation was a good sign, to Mitch’s way of thinking. “With grapes?”
“Extra grapes,” Mitch confirmed.
Her little lips tightened as she considered him. “Green grapes?”
Mitch smiled, knowing how she loved the green ones. “Lots of them.” He tickled her tummy. “Didn’t I say it was special for you?”
The little girl’s expression turned coy in a way that made Mitch dread the day she would become a teenager. Jen tapped Bun on Mitch’s shoulder. “Can I have some? Now? And Bun too?” She granted her daddy the gift of a smile.
“Well, I don’t know,” Mitch teased. “I thought you were going to sleep in this morning.”
“Woody the Woodpecker woke me up,” Jen confided cheerfully, then tapped her finger on Mitch’s chest. “Bang, bang, bang.”
Mitch mimicked the cartoon character’s laugh and Jen giggled right on cue. He grinned with relief. “That’s not the first time I’ve heard that complaint this morning,” he said, then stood, intending to share the joke with Lilith.
But Lilith was gone. The screen door to her kitchen swung slowly, but there was absolutely no sign of the lady.
Mitch was honest enough with himself to admit that he was disappointed.
*
Lilith had never experienced such a sense of being desperately alone. But when Mitch scooped up his daughter, his features drawn with concern, and the little girl clung to him for solace, Lilith had fully understood, perhaps for the first time, just how alone she was.
Immortal and alone. Lilith was effectively frozen in time, locked forever in the moment when the elixir slid through her veins. She would always be thirty-three years old.
Lilith stood still while time swirled around her.
For the first time, Lilith didn’t think that was such a good thing. She had lived in solitude for almost six centuries. Even D’Artagnan was a recent concession. There had just been her plants and countless houses and thousands upon thousands of strangers with secrets of love hidden in their eyes. They went on to find their lovers true, to have children, to grow old in the circle of their love.
But Lilith stayed alone. Always alone. The sight of Mitch and his daughter had made that point painfully clear.
It had made Lilith suddenly want to cry.
So she had run, as much from the sight of the closeness of Mitch’s family as from her realization. But inside her house lurked the memory of the Empress card she had drawn this very morning.
The pregnant Empress who governed fertility and parenthood.
Lilith saw the card lying on her nightstand, and she dropped to her bed and wept. It was not exactly a reminder she needed right now. Lilith thought about little babies and faded assumptions that she would rock untold numbers of her own children in her arms.
Because Lilith could never have a child of her own – her monthly cycles had ceased when she drank the potion. That naïve expectation – now destined to remain unfulfilled – left Lilith feeling barren and empty, cold despite the heat. She cried, certain her womb had shriveled like an old piece of fruit.
Even though she had never let herself cry since she had walked away from the Rom kumpania.
It must be the weather that was finally getting to her. Or the anticipation of having Sebastian on the periphery of her life again.
But Mitch had his own children. Although she hadn’t expected them, maybe Lilith could live vicariously. She certainly had enjoyed her first encounter with Jason.
That made her feel better. Lilith sniffed and wiped away her foolish tears, determined to put this unwanted emotion behind her. She wrapped her arms around herself and paced. Lilith certainly had never been bothered by any of this before.
But no matter how fast she walked, Lilith just couldn’t erase the image of Mitch’s daughter’s tears from her mind. Even that tiny girl had someone to turn to when everything seemed wrong.
Lilith had only herself and she would have only herself until Mitch remembered their entwined destiny. It had been that way for so long that she had almost forgotten life could be any other way.
Almost, but not quite.
*
Lilith jumped hours later when there was a rap on her kitchen door.
“Hellooooooo!” Someone called from the back porch and Lilith recognized Andrea’s voice with relief. She was more than ready for a bit of company.
Lilith stepped quickly through the kitchen and summoned a smile. “Hello, Andrea. Come on in!”
Andrea did as she was bidden, her gaze quickly trailing over Lilith’s spotless red-and-white kitchen. “Oh, this is lovely! We’ll have to show Mitch – he’s been muttering about potential and cursing realtors all day long.” Her eyes twinkled. “I honestly don’t think the man knows where to start.”
Lilith’s smile broadened. “You have to have a vision of what you want the house to be.”
“Well!” Andrea heaved a sigh and glanced over the kitchen once more. “You clearly have an eye for such things.”
Lilith warmed to the older woman, not because of her praise but simply because she said what she thought. “I enjoy it.”
Andrea smiled. “I can tell.”
Lilith bit her lip in sudden recollection and had to ask. “Is your granddaughter all right? She seemed quite upset this morning.”
Andrea sobered immediately. “Oh, Jen. She’s such a sweetie but she really doesn’t handle change well at all. Mitch worries so much about her.”
Lilith’s heart contracted for both father and daughter. “What about her mother?”
Andrea snorted. “There’s a story and a half there, that’s for certain.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Mitch has sworn that he’ll hunt me down and hurt me if I ever breathe a word of what happened to anyone. Unfortunately” – she winked, a disclaimer if ever there was one – “I believe him.”
“Surely it can’t be that bad.”
Andrea waved off the comment. “Mitch just doesn’t want those two little angels ever to hear anything bad about their mom. I can’t blame him for a little over-protectiveness.” Andrea shrugged and a wicked twinkle glinted in her eye. “Even if there isn’t much good to say about her.”
Lilith was so shocked by this comment that she didn’t have time to hide her response. “Andrea!”
“It’s true,” the older woman declared unrepentantly. “She never knew what she had – God bless us for small mercies – otherwise, she’d still be here.” Andrea rolled her eyes in silent assessment of that. “Suffice to say, the man blames himself, but then he was always too quick to take responsibility for the woes of this world.”
Andrea straightened with a sudden primness, as though she had just realized she’d said too much. “But that’s all I have to say about that.”
Andrea’s words were certainly consistent with Mitch’s tight-lipped response about not being married anymore. Something nasty had happened, unless Lilith missed her guess.
“Well, I’m glad your granddaughter is all right.”
Andrea smiled again. “More than all right, although Mitch is fretting up a storm. He’s a regular old mother hen. He’s asked me to stay a few days so Jen doesn’t have to go to a new day care tomorrow.”
“That might be a good idea,” Lilith conceded, touched by his concern for the little girl’s fears.
Andrea grinned. “Oh, it is. I think Mitch’s exact words were that it could be a seriously ugly proposition to make her go.” She arched a brow. “But just because he’s right doesn’t mean I won’t tease him about being such a worrywart.”
The two women exchanged a warm smile and Lilith decided it was time for a change of subject. “Why don’t you come into the front room?” she suggested. “That’s where I usually read.”
Andrea turned in the direction Lilith gestured. “Oh, this is so exciting. I just can’t wait. You know, I have
the strongest feeling about you, Lilith. As soon as I saw your sign, I knew you would have something to tell me.” She flicked a pert glance over her shoulder. “Do you think that’s crazy?”
Lilith shook her head. “No.”
She didn’t think it was crazy quite simply because it was true. The portent of Andrea’s future love was right there in her eyes. Lilith had seen it immediately. A person just had to know where and how to look.
Too late, Lilith wished she’d had a better look into Mitch’s eyes.
A reassured Andrea danced ahead, anticipation in every line of her figure. Her gaze roved openly over the furnishings of the front room. Lilith trailed behind her, granting her the opportunity to look.
If there was one place where Lilith most actively and obviously denied her Rom roots, it was in her place of business, her fortune-telling parlor. The room was furnished in mission-style furniture, the clean lines of the oak and warm finish of the oxblood leather emanating a definite sense of this world.
There were Persian rugs cast on the gleaming hardwood floor and Turkish kilims woven in earth tones cast over the backs of chairs. A particularly spectacular batik from Indonesia of two traditional dancers was framed without a backing and hung over the window so that the light shone through it.
Bookcases stood on either side of the fireplace, their leaded glass doors gleaming. It was there that the evidence of Lilith’s livelihood could be found in the wide array of occult titles. There were mineral samples and seashells scattered unobtrusively around the room and fat beeswax candles on many of the tables.
“It’s not what I expected,” Andrea declared finally. “But it’s very nice.”
Lilith smiled. “What did you expect?”
“You know, red velvet and crystal balls. The usual tacky mishmash.” Andrea took the chair Lilith indicated and practically bounced in place. “But I like this.” She wrinkled her nose. “It seems real.”
“Thank you.” Lilith retrieved her cards from their high vantage point and unfolded the silk that surrounded them. She had never been able to resist different tarot decks and had at least a half a dozen decks in the house. This current “working” deck had lovely paintings which patrons seemed to like.
Andrea’s eyes widened at the sight. “What an odd place to keep your cards.”
“They have to be respected,” Lilith confided easily. “And granted the honor of the highest point in the room.” She shuffled the deck. “There are those who insist the cards watch over the homes of those who treat them well.”
“Really?” Andrea breathed.
“That’s what they say. I certainly have no complaints.” Lilith set the cards on the coffee table, then retrieved a small crystal ball. She took the seat opposite the older woman and smiled. “Would you like to ask a specific question, or shall I just read?”
Andrea’s smile shone. “Would you just read?”
Her enthusiasm was infectious, especially as Lilith knew Andrea wouldn’t be disappointed by what she heard today.
“Of course.” When Lilith spared the crystal ball a glance as she put it down, a fleeting image there caught her eye. She straightened in shocked recognition.
It was Dritta!
It couldn’t be! Lilith blinked and carefully looked again, trying to hide her gesture from Andrea.
But the ball was clear once more.
Lilith must have imagined the image. It couldn’t have been Dritta. No, she had left all of that behind, centuries ago, outside an Italian village.
She was upset, that was all. She’d been thinking too more of old Rom expectations for her future, expectations that had nothing to do with her life. She was just lonely.
It was nothing more than that.
Lilith deliberately smiled for Andrea, then cupped the woman’s left hand within both of hers. The older woman’s skin was soft and warm, and there were a thousand lines in her palm.
Impressionable, Dritta whispered in Lilith’s ear. Lilith frowned and chose to ignore the source. But she would have to be particularly careful about what she said. Andrea caught her breath in anticipation as Lilith leaned closer to read the omens hidden in her hand.
“You’re right-handed?”
Andrea nodded.
“Then this is what you were born with,” Lilith said softly, with a gentle squeeze of Andrea’s left hand before reaching to take her right. “And this is what you have made of it.”
Though there were just the two of them in the room – even D’Artagnan had not deigned to join them – Lilith had a definite sense that they two were not alone. In fact, she looked over her shoulder more than once in the following minutes, but there was no one there.
Yet when she read, Lilith heard an echo from the past in her choice of words, though she never intended any such thing. She knew it was no accident she heard Dritta’s wisdom echo in her own voice that afternoon.
Although she wondered at the change.
*
The room had fallen into darkness when the reading was done. What Lilith had seen in Andrea’s eyes had been reinforced in her palm and in the cards. By the end, they both had a very clear answer of where Andrea’s next love would be found.
It was a really good reading, one loaded with specific details, one of the best readings Lilith had given in a long time. It left Lilith bone tired. She waved to a thrilled Andrea from the porch and leaned against the doorjamb in exhaustion.
Perhaps it was because she was so tired that the unexpected words fell from her lips.
“Te sav ka to biav!” Lilith called, though she had no intention of doing any such thing. She blinked in surprised to hear the first Rom words cross her lips in nearly six centuries.
Andrea spun around. “What language is that?”
“Rom,” Lilith admitted, then clarified. “Gypsy.”
Andrea gasped and her eyes went round with wonder once more. “Are you a Gypsy?”
Oddly enough, Lilith couldn’t manage to utter her usual rejection of her roots. It didn’t seem right after this day, after this reading.
She really was tired.
“I was,” she conceded quietly.
Andrea snorted, an unconscious reminder of Dritta’s dismissiveness. “And so you still are.”
Lilith’s heart skipped at that, then she gave her head a shake. Because Andrea didn’t know anything about being mahrime. Andrea didn’t know what she was talking about.
Lilith was not Rom, not any more.
“What does it mean?”
Lilith grinned and held the screen door open with her toe, feeling suddenly playful. “May I eat at your wedding.”
Andrea laughed with delight. “You will! I just know it! Wait until I tell Mitch about this.” She chuckled impishly as she darted up his porch steps. “He’ll be livid!”
Lilith turned back to her house, her smile fading as soon as the door closed behind her. Old words echoed in her thoughts, despite the silence of the house.
“It is in your blood, child. Who you are will follow you.”
No. Lilith frowned and locked the door. Nothing had followed her. They had cast her out. They had denied her and she would deny them.
Lilith was Rom no longer.
And that was that.
*
4
The Emperor
“She told you what?”
Livid proved to be a woeful miscalculation of Mitch’s response. He was incredulous, skeptical and mad as hops. Andrea tried to find another way to share the good news.
Because it was good news.
If only Mitch would listen.
“There’s nothing to get excited about, Mitch,” she said flatly. “I’m going on a cruise. And I’m going to meet the man of my dreams.” Andrea waved her hand airily. “It’s perfectly simple. Lilith said so.”
“Lilith said so.” Mitch echoed in a low growl and paced the kitchen. He was clearly fighting his urge to bellow like a boar. “You know, Andrea, that’s not exactly how love is supposed to wor
k.”
“So, now you’re an authority on matters of the heart,” Andrea snorted. “What were those credentials again?”
“Ouch,” Mitch said flatly.
Andrea tossed her hair. “I’ve at least got experience.”
“Ouch again.” Her stepson took a deep breath, then deliberately sat backwards on a chair. Mitch was clearly exasperated, and just as clearly bent on convincing her to change her mind.
In a way, Andrea liked it better when he ranted. When Mitch got all cold and logical, it was harder to refute his points. Andrea braced her feet against the ground, folded her arms across her chest and dug in her heels.
She was going on that cruise.
“Andrea, think about what you’re saying.”
Danger, danger. He was very cool and decisive. Andrea knew Mitch would have her agreeing with him but quick if she didn’t stick to her guns.
She was going. “I have!”
Mitch arched a brow. “Then consider the source.”
“What does that mean?”
Mitch frowned. “Lilith told me that she’s a witch.”
“Pshaw! Wiccans are as thick on the ground as bicycle thieves in this neighborhood. So what?”
Mitch’s eyes flashed. “She says that she’s six hundred years old. Six hundred years, Andrea.” He arched an eloquent brow. “Is this the kind of clear thinking you want in an advisor?”
Andrea blinked, surprised by this information. “She did?”
Mitch nodded solemnly. “She’s nuts.”
But Andrea shook her head. “I don’t think so. She’s certainly lonely, but she’s far too nice to be nuts.”
Mitch exhaled and rubbed one hand across his brow. “So, now you’re a psychologist. Who says crazy people can’t be nice?”
“Mitch! Anyone can see that Lilith’s a sweet girl!”
“Which proves nothing.” Mitch’s lips drew to a thin line. “Think about what you’re saying!”
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