“How many?” she whispered, knowing that even one was too many.
“Half a million, maybe more, maybe less.” A tear worked its way down the elderly woman’s cheek. “He must know the story,” she said urgently. “He must understand. You must help me.”
“Yes,” Lilith agreed without hesitation.
It was late, too late for those half a million souls, but Lilith would do what she could to help. This woman’s acceptance of Lilith despite her mahrime status undermined all of Lilith’s own rejections. She was Rom. Her legacy coursed through her veins, just as Dritta had declared it always would.
Mitch had been right. This woman did need Lilith’s abilities, just as Lilith had needed her acceptance.
There had been absolutely no reason to be afraid.
And now, now Lilith could help this woman, could do some healing, could set matters to rights. Mitch had given her this gift, for Lilith wouldn’t have been here without his example and his encouragement.
They were going to make a good team. Just thinking that made her smile, but Lilith had work to do. “What will you tell your grandson?”
“He must know of my soul mate. He must know of the grandfather he never knew. He must know what it means to be hunted, what is the price of trusting foolishly. He must know the legacy that comes to him in blood.”
The woman’s voice faltered. ‘I must tell him in Rom, but he does not understand it. And I, I am forgetting what little gadje that I did know.” She shook her head. “I think it is a vengeance of my tongue, maybe the mulo of my love does not want to hear me speak thus. I hear him in the wind now. He is close.”
The two women looked into each other’s eyes and Lilith saw that this one task left undone was all that gave the woman before her the will to continue.
They would have to hurry, to see it finished in time. Lilith was suddenly very glad that she had come.
And she was humbled that she held the key to grant this woman her one desire.
Lilith smiled and squeezed the older woman’s hand. “Then we shall teach him, you and I. And then he will know both your story and your tongue. It is a fitting legacy for your only grandson.” Lilith leaned closer, easily remembering the Rom superstition of naming those who have passed on. “And he will know of the one we cannot name. He will know not only what it is to be hunted, but what it is to be loved.”
With that pledge, the older woman began to weep silently.
She didn’t bow her head. She didn’t sniffle or wipe at her tears. She simply let them flow, looking every bit as proud and determined as she had when Lilith had entered the room. She clutched Lilith’s hand, though, her own a withered shadow of what it once must have been. Lilith sat silently beside her, watching the tears roll and shed one or two of her own.
“Grandmother?” A young man’s voice carried from the doorway.
Lilith looked up to find a familiar young man hesitating on the threshold, fresh flowers clutched in his hands. The woman stiffened and sniffled.
“Puri daj,” Lilith corrected softly. “That’s Rom for ‘grandmother’.”
The concern eased from the grandson’s features, relief brightening his eyes as he stepped into the room. “Puri daj,” he repeated carefully. His gaze flicked to Lilith, then back to his grandmother. “Are you all right?”
“Ov yilo isi?” Lilith supplied. He looked to her questioningly. “’Is it okay?’” she whispered, blinking back her own tears. “Or literally, ‘is your heart still there?’”
The young man bent to kiss his grandmother’s cheek. “Ov yilo isi?” he said with slow precision.
And she smiled. She clasped the flowers to her chest and clutched at his hand, reaching up to kiss his cheek in return. Then she tapped her heart and wiped away a tear. “Such a good boy,” she whispered in Rom, then rapped Lilith on the knee with sudden severity. “You will find him a nice Rom girl, a drabarni like you.”
Lilith smiled and glanced to the mystified man before her. “I will try.”
“Try!” The woman snorted disdain. She rallied and snapped her fingers under Lilith’s nose, once again the grand and proud lady in command of her domain. “If your gadjo is not smart, my grandson will steal away your heart to make it his own!”
There wasn’t much change of that happening, which suited Lilith just fine.
*
13
Death
Mitch walked up the street Thursday night, kids in tow, and found himself whistling under his breath. His pulse leapt when he spotted Lilith lingering on her porch, then Jen broke free and ran.
“Lillit! I made you a picture!”
Lilith stepped from her porch and scooped up Jen with easy familiarity, the two having bonded something fierce in the last few days. The picture was duly admired, Lilith’s dark gaze dancing repeatedly to meet Mitch’s while the children shared their news with her.
For the first time in his entire career, Mitch was not looking forward to attending this annual conference. It was a huge meet and greet, a terrific networking opportunity, but he didn’t want to pack up and leave in the morning.
He wanted to have another weekend just like the last one. He wanted to go to the zoo, and laugh with his kids, and lose himself in the sparkle of Lilith’s dark eyes. The kids climbed Lilith’s porch, Jason opening her door and Jen looking for D’Artagnan, leaving Mitch and Lilith momentarily alone.
Lilith threw her arms around Mitch’s neck and kissed him as though there was no tomorrow. He was more than happy to enjoy the moment, to cradle the sweet weight of her against him.
When she finally pulled away, he couldn’t help but smile. “What was that all about?”
“I went to the hospital,” she confessed breathlessly, her smile telling Mitch all he needed to know about what had happened. “And I want to thank you in every way I can imagine.” She stretched to her toes and would have kissed him again, if Mitch hadn’t landed a thumb against her lips.
He grinned. “How about some ways I can imagine?” Mitch felt her lips curve under his thumb.
“Just how imaginative are journalists, anyway?” she teased.
“You might be surprised. We’re very creative people.” Mitch chuckled and let his fingertips slide along her jaw line. He felt her shiver and considered several very interesting possibilities before voicing the one he had in mind.
“I want to spend tonight with you and the kids,” he confessed quietly. “Tell me all about the magic you’ve made this week.”
Lilith tilted her head to look up at him. “I thought you didn’t believe in magick.”
Mitch smiled wryly. “I saw you with the butterflies last weekend,” he confessed, “and I think I feel a conversion coming on.” Mitch sobered as he watched his fingertip slide across the fullness of her lips. “I have to leave at five in the morning, Lilith. I want to have this evening to replay all weekend long.”
Tonight he needed a little sample of Lilith’s tranquility to take along with him.
And he saw in her eyes that she understood.
But the twinkle that immediately appeared told Mitch that she was going to give him a hard time about it anyway.
Of course, Lilith always gave him a hard time, in more ways than one. She challenged everything - not the least of which was Mitch’s self control.
Maybe that was why she so thoroughly captured his attention.
Lilith slipped her fingers into his hair, her touch feather light, then brushed her lips against his. Mitch felt an ember being to glow deep inside him. Then Lilith’s eyes flashed and she pivoted, tossing a flirtatious glance over her shoulder.
“All this delay,” she said archly. “I’m going to start thinking that you’re not interested, after all.”
There was an opening that couldn’t be refused!
Lilith barely made it into the foyer before Mitch caught her in his arms. She laughed throatily as he held her close, and returned his kiss hungrily. He only stopped when they both were in need of a deep breath.<
br />
“That should clear up any doubts,” he growled, deliberately letting her feel the indicator of her effect upon him.
“Tease!” Lilith charged with a playful wrinkle of her nose. Then she spun out of his embrace and danced toward the kitchen, the flash of her bare feet making his chinos tight.
“Me?!” Mitch demanded in astonishment. But Lilith laughed unrepentantly and ran for the sanctuary of the kitchen.
And Mitch, ready to follow, paused and looked around Lilith’s house for the first time. It was strikingly cozy, welcoming and comfortable. He felt at ease just crossing the threshold. He fought his smile as he followed her to the kitchen, not surprised to find his kids already bumming cookies.
“What would you say to sharing a bit of your decorating advice?” he asked, unable to forget Andrea’s early suggestion. Lilith turned with a smile that told Mitch he already had her agreement. “I could definitely use your help.”
*
It was when she popped in to pick up a few things Friday morning that Lilith found the Death card.
She had come home humming from taking the children to daycare, memories of the evening before making her smile. She had dumped an armload of groceries on Mitch’s counter and was happier than she could ever remember being. She had just come home for a few things and saw the card waiting for her.
Lilith’s heart stopped at the sight of it, then began to race. She stared at the card from the threshold of the living room, reluctant to draw any closer to it, and felt the blood drain from her face.
An Italian village square, its corners haunted with the shadows of twilight, loomed in her mind with sudden clarity.
Lilith thought about plane crashes, car accidents, hotel bombings and elevators dropping like stones. Flukes of nature, and earthquakes and rivers rising, jumped into her mind. She thought about noble-minded men dashing into burning buildings to save children, and pedestrians being mowed by drunken drivers just for stepping off the curb.
Lilith’s stomach rolled at the realization that there were a wealth of nasty possibilities that could keep Mitch from ever coming back again.
But she couldn’t lose her true love again! It wouldn’t be fair; it wouldn’t be right. Mitch couldn’t be stolen away from her, not after all this time, not after all she had done, not after all the hurdles they had leapt together. They were close, tantalizingly close to making a commitment to each other - the Fates couldn’t cheat Lilith again.
Or at least she wouldn’t just stand by and watch.
Lilith stormed into the room and tried to pick up the card. She tried to turn it over and make it go away.
But she couldn’t get a grip on the card. It seemed to be stuck to the table and clung there with a force she couldn’t undermine. Lilith couldn’t lift it from the table - she couldn’t even slide her nail underneath it.
Its stubbornness made her panic. Lilith scrabbled at the card, then turned her attention to the next one. She tried to force things to move on, understanding that there was much more at stake her than the inexplicable flipping of cards.
But she couldn’t turn over the next one either.
Lilith sat down with a thump, pressed her fingertips to her temples, and took a trio of deep breaths. She sternly told herself to get a grip.
She focused on the card. It didn’t always literally mean death and Lilith knew that, as little consolation as that was.
The Death card could mean transformation, change, a shift in viewpoint. It could mean metamorphosis. She tried the cards one more time but they all were apparently sealed in place.
And Lilith knew there was only one way to make them move.
Something had to happen.
Something had to change.
Okay. If there had to be transformation for the cards to move on, then Lilith would engineer some changes around here. She was a can-do kind of witch, after all. She would short-circuit the cards, whatever their intent might be.
A feline yowl carried from the yard in that moment, followed by a wolfhound’s low bark. Lilith straightened and looked to the kitchen. She could take a hint, she thought with a smile, and knew exactly what her first change was going to be.
*
If D’Artagnan wondered why he was being given his very favorite salmon at a strange time of the morning and for no obvious reason at all, he didn’t show it. In fact, he practically inhaled the unscheduled meal, then sat back, burped inelegantly and began to clean himself with satisfaction.
Lilith smiled, knowing he hadn’t even tasted her little amendment. She waited until his eyes started to droop, then scooped him up and headed next door.
D’Artagnan squirmed drowsily at the sight of Mitch’s back gate, evidently guessing where Lilith was going but not having the fight to do much about it. She could get used to him being mellow like this, but knew the herbal addition to his meal would wear off in an hour or so.
For the moment, D’Artagnan was uncharacteristically placid, which was exactly what Lilith needed.
Cooley wagged with enthusiasm when Lilith opened the gate, his gaze sharpening when he spied the cat. He sniffed excitedly and Lilith put D’Artagnan down right under his nose. She held her breath hoping that familiarity would breed a lack of interest.
The cat wobbled slightly and shook his head. Cooley sniffed on full power, circling the dazed cat with evident fascination. He drew near warily, ducking and weaving until he was certain he wouldn’t be clawed. When the dog sniffed D’Artagnan’s ears, always a sensitive spot, the cat half-heartedly tried to bat the dog’s nose away.
The move made D’Artagnan lose his balance. He sat down with a thump and hissed at the dog, though the gesture lacked his usual vehemence. His tail was already starting to flick with displeasure.
Abruptly, Cooley’s curiosity was satisfied. He considered the cat only a moment longer before wandering off to explore more interesting matters in the garden. D’Artagnan straightened clumsily and stared after the dog. His tail waved like a banner, his ears stood up, he mewed loudly. Lilith had the distinct impression that he was insulted to have lost the dog’s attention.
D’Artagnan yowled but Cooley barely even looked back. The cat ran a few uneven steps, he puffed out his tail and hissed in a more typical manner. The dog collapsed on the back porch, stunningly indifferent, and nosed out something that had gotten into his paw.
D’Artagnan glanced accusingly to Lilith and she could only smile. Just as she had hoped, Cooley had only wanted a good sniff. Now that he had had one, there was no curiosity to satisfy. The cat tiptoed closer and boldly batted the dog on the nose, as though challenging him back to the chase. D’Artagnan ran a few uneven steps, glancing back in consternation when he was not pursued.
Cooley wagged his tail, then dropped his chin to his paws with a noisy sigh and started to snore.
The cat’s tail dropped. He seemed so uncertain as to what to do that Lilith laughed aloud.
One change made with resounding success. Lilith let herself into the kitchen and began a quick survey of the house, considering all the while what could be done.
Then, she headed to the paint store, more than ready to make a little transformation of her own.
Mitch had asked for her help, after all.
*
Jen awakened in the night with the dreadful certainty that her daddy wasn’t there. She clutched Bun to her chest and felt her little heart go pit-a-pat.
She was alone.
Jen bit her lip, she blinked back her tears. She had promised Daddy that she would be a big girl, that she wouldn’t get scared, that she would be good for Lillit.
But it was hard to do in the middle of the night. The shadows loomed large around Jen’s bed, the darkness in the corners were deep enough to hide any kind of spooky thing. She was suddenly quite sure that there was a monster under the bed. Jen rolled into a little ball and felt the first tear slide down her cheek.
She was all alone.
It was really scary, yet she couldn’t help
straining her ears. Jen hoped she wouldn’t hear that monster breathing, she didn’t want to know for sure he was there, didn’t want to suspect that he was hungry for tasty little girls. But she listened all the same.
And that was when Jen heard the music.
It was coming from the kitchen.
The kitchen, where Lillit was.
And Lillit, Jen was sure, would know exactly what to do about monsters.
Jen grabbed Bun tight, afraid he would be eaten if she left him behind. She jumped as far out of the bed as she could, almost certain the monster would reach out and grab her as soon as her feet hit the floor.
He was too slow, though, that monster. Jen made the door, her breathing fast, and bolted for the stairs. To her relief, she could see the golden light spilling from the kitchen at the bottom of the stairs.
Light and music, Lillit and safety.
Jen hoped she could get there before the monster snatched her up.
*
The Beatles were singing that all you needed was love and Lilith was painting up a storm. She couldn’t go to sleep without being certain that Mitch was safe, she couldn’t stray from the phone and risk missing a call. She certainly couldn’t turn off the radio and not hear the news every hour. So, she painted and she sang.
It was just past two, the darkness was pressing against the windows, and the streets were silent, when Lilith turned around to find a very distraught little girl in the kitchen doorway. There were tears on Jen’s cheeks and Bun was caught in a headlock.
Lilith immediately dropped to her knees beside Jen, surprised when the little girl cast herself into her arms without hesitation.
“I was all alone!” Jen wailed, but Lilith held her close. She felt the child’s heart fluttering in fear.
“You weren’t alone,” Lilith whispered. “I’m right here.” Jen sniffled, apparently encouraged by that, and Lilith made Bun dance a little bit. “And you had Bun to keep you company.”
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