“I have been,” I told him, trying not to sound accusatory. How much longer could he possibly expect me to wait? Time was running out.
“Soon,” he said, still in that whisper which revealed nothing of what his true speaking voice must sound like. Then he took me by the shoulders and gently turned me to face him. It was still too dark to see anything, but I knew he was there, knew he was scant inches away.
Would a dream-kiss mean the same thing as a real one?
I held my breath, waiting for the touch of mouth to mouth that I’d anticipated for so long. Finally his lips brushed against mine. They weren’t warm, though, but cold, and the eyes staring at me were not deep green, but black, black as jet, glittering and cruel. He forced my mouth open with his tongue, made me taste him, and though I struggled, I couldn’t seem to summon one spell to defend myself, do one thing to keep him from taking me as he’d planned to all along. Then he was pushing me down against the pillows, icy fingers digging into my flesh as I writhed beneath him, desperately trying to free myself.
The room blared with light. “Angela!”
Kirby’s voice. I blinked and saw him standing in the door to my room, with Efraim Willendale and my cousin Rosemary crowding behind him.
“You were screaming,” Kirby said. His tone was matter-of-fact enough, but he was frowning. “Are you all right?”
“Just a nightmare,” I told him. Of course that’s all it was. Not surprising, I supposed, after my run-in with Damon Wilcox earlier that day. Even so, I couldn’t help reaching out and running a hand over the bedclothes next to me. They were relatively flat and unrumpled, my paperback still lying where I’d dropped it when I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. No one had been there.
“You’re sure?” Efraim asked in his deep voice.
I nodded. I didn’t want to have to tell them what I’d dreamed. I didn’t even want to think about it. “Too much pizza too close to bedtime. That’s all.”
The three of them shot worried glances at one another, my cousin Rosemary’s mouth pursing in…what? Worry? Disapproval?
A quick look at the clock on my nightstand told me it was only eleven-thirty. Still a lot of night left for those kinds of dreams to invade my slumber once again. But I knew I had to try to sleep.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m fine.”
They hesitated, but then Kirby said, “All right. But remember that we’re just downstairs if you need us.”
How could I forget? I thought, but I only replied, “Thanks. That makes it better.”
Apparently they were willing to go with that. Kirby closed my door partway, leaving it open about six inches, and I heard the stairs creak as they headed back down to the family room.
The light coming in from the upstairs hallway helped a little. I lay in bed and looked at the long rectangle of pale yellow created by the sconces in the hall, and heard the faraway sounds of the TV cranking up again. Not too loud, of course, but just enough that I could catch snippets of laughter. Maybe they were watching Letterman or something.
Despite everything, my mouth curved in a smile at the thought of two warlocks and a witch sitting around and watching Letterman, but really, most of our lives were pretty prosaic. It wasn’t all casting spells and flying around on broomsticks. Not that any of us could actually fly. Our talents tended to be a little more down to earth than that, if you’ll pardon the pun.
I could feel myself begin to relax again. Kirby and Efraim and Rosemary were downstairs, and Damon Wilcox was a hundred miles away in Flagstaff. The town was protected; I was protected. My own thoughts were the enemy here, churning away, roiling up dark fears that should have stayed buried. Nothing was going to happen. The next two weeks would pass, and my consort would either show up or he wouldn’t. And if he didn’t, I had Adam to make sure I was of no use to the Wilcoxes.
That seemed to do the trick. I shut my eyes, and this time I slipped into a calm, dark sleep, with no nightmares to trouble my mind.
* * *
A new crew had shown up while I was still sleeping. They generally switched out around eight in the morning, and I was startled to see that I’d slept until almost nine. That day in Phoenix really had done a number on me.
This time it was Tobias and Henry and Allegra. I shot Tobias a surprised look as I shuffled down to get coffee. The three of them were in the family room, with the TV tuned to some morning news out of Phoenix. The newscasters were currently discussing the weather, which meant nothing to us up here in Jerome. Phoenix might as well have been in another state, its weather was so different from ours.
“I thought you and Aunt Rachel had a hot date last night,” I told Tobias as I slipped a hazelnut cream pack into the coffeemaker. “How’d you end up on duty this morning?”
He shrugged, and set aside the copy of the Verde Valley News he’d been holding. “My turn in the rotation. She was a little tired last night.”
Well, I could relate to that. And if he were here, then I’d have an opening to talk to my aunt. True, the shop would be open, and there wasn’t much I could do about that. But it was a Thursday and shouldn’t be too busy. Technically I should be working at the store, but my status had been a little hazy since my elevation to prima, especially after I’d moved into the house. Rachel had said it wasn’t that busy right now and that I should take my time getting adjusted.
Just the day before yesterday she’d told me she was thinking about having my cousin Riley come in and help out so I wouldn’t have to do it anymore, would be free to work on my jewelry and finish up my degree, if that was what I wanted. It seemed a strange attitude for her to take, since she was the one who’d been gung-ho about me taking the online coursework in the first place. I hadn’t really seen the point — it wasn’t as if I’d ever have to go out and find a “real” job — but she said education was important, so I’d sort of dragged myself through the coursework, taking my time.
Although working at the store had certainly never been my raison d’être, the defection still bothered me. It was as if now that I was prima, my aunt was trying to distance herself from me.
All the more reason for us to have a talk.
Since I wasn’t that hungry, I made myself some toast and finished my coffee, then headed upstairs to get myself together. It was a bright, clear day, but cold, with a brisk wind coming from the east. After I showered I put on a thick mohair pullover I’d found in a thrift shop down in Cottonwood — “it’s so retro!” Sydney had exclaimed — along with my favorite jeans and boots. As a concession to Aunt Rachel’s sensibilities, I finished off the outfit with some lip gloss and my favorite silver hoop earrings, then headed down to the store.
Of course I told Tobias and the other bodyguards where I was going, and they dutifully trailed after me, then parked themselves in the donut shop across the street. I really didn’t see what possible trouble I could get into in the distance between the house and Aunt Rachel’s shop, but I did have to admire their efficiency.
She gave me a surprised look when I entered the shop. “Hi, hon, but I told you that you didn’t have to come in today.”
“I know.” The place was empty except for the two of us; midweek like this, most tourists wouldn’t come by to shop until after lunch. “I wanted to talk.”
“Talk?” Suddenly her hands were busy, rearranging a display of small tumbled semiprecious stones. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Yesterday…and a few things Margot Emory told me.”
“You talked to Margot?”
So apparently I was able to keep a few things secret in this town. Then again, Margot had never been the type to share confidences…unless they were being dragged out of her. “Yes. She told me stuff I’d never heard about the Wilcoxes. Also a few things about this whole consort business. Things it might have been nice to know.”
My aunt’s expression grew guarded. “Such as?”
“The reason why the Wilcoxes wanted to grab Aunt Ruby in the first place…wanted to grab
me. And how I don’t have to be holding out for a consort. Yes, it’s preferable, but it’s not exactly a do-or-die situation like the way you’d always explained it to me.”
She wouldn’t meet my eyes, instead got out from behind the counter and began, quite unnecessarily, to make sure all the books in the rack on the far wall were lined up properly. “You know it’s important for a prima to have her consort. Not just for her, but for all of us.”
“Important, yes, but it’s not the only way.” On the walk down here I’d told myself I needed to stay calm, to not fling accusations at her, but now I could feel yesterday’s anger bubbling up again. “Here you were standing on the sidelines, being all rah-rah every time a candidate came up to see me, but never once in the past year did you tell me that we would manage without a consort, that just settling for one of those candidates would be enough to protect me from the Wilcoxes.”
At that she did finally turn to face me. Her hazel eyes glittered — not with tears, but her own particular brand of anger. Hands on her hips, she retorted, “Settle? Settle? The prima of the McAllisters should not have to settle! All right, it might have protected you from the Wilcoxes, but what about the rest of us? A prima without a consort isn’t strong enough to protect her whole clan, or didn’t Margot tell you that?”
“She said it wasn’t optimal, but she also didn’t make it sound as if the world was going to cave in, either.” Since that particular remark didn’t get a response, only a continuing irritated glare, I added, “And since she’s a clan elder, I figure she must know what she’s talking about.”
“And I don’t, I suppose.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So what are you saying, Angela?” She moved away from the bookcase and went back to her fussy tidying-up, as if those few minutes of angry eye contact were about all she could handle.
“I’m saying that you were so busy protecting me that you didn’t give me a chance to make any decisions for myself! Maybe it would’ve helped me to know that Damon Wilcox wanted me because he knew as primus he could force me to be his whether or not he was my consort.” The horrifying dream-memory of his mouth on mine, his hands grasping my arms, swam up behind my eyes, and I blinked it away. I couldn’t let myself think about that right now. “Shit, you knew what he looked like — you recognized him back in Phoenix. And yet I had no clue. He could’ve walked up to me in Wal-Mart down in Cottonwood, and I would’ve thought he was just some random guy trying to hit on me in the freezer section.”
Her mouth tightened. “That would never have happened. Even he wouldn’t be so bold as to come into our territory like that.”
“He didn’t seem to have any problem in Phoenix.”
“Because it’s not our territory — it’s the de la Pazes’.”
“Oh, whatever!” I crossed my arms. “You know what I mean. It was that whole protecting me thing again. For some reason you didn’t want to give me even that little piece of information. How can I make the right choices and do the right thing if I’m working in the dark? I’m the prima of this clan now, not some girl you can keep bundled up in bubble wrap for the rest of my life.”
The bells on the front door jingled, and Tobias entered, holding two go-cups of coffee. Only a very stupid person could have overlooked the tension in the air, and Tobias was definitely not stupid. He glanced from Rachel to me and back again. “Everything okay in here, ladies?”
“Fine,” my aunt and I both snapped simultaneously.
He looked supremely unconvinced, but only went over the counter and set the two cups of coffee down on it. “I’ll just leave these here for you, then.”
“Thanks,” the two of us said, and he sent Aunt Rachel a searching glance before giving the smallest lift of his shoulders and heading back outside.
We both ignored the coffee, although it smelled good, its heavy, rich scent mingling with the spicy smell of the potpourri sitting in a basket on a high shelf.
“Anyway,” I added, since it seemed clear she was keeping herself from saying anything else…saying something she’d regret, possibly, “Adam and I have talked it over, and if a consort doesn’t materialize before a week from tomorrow, then we’re going to…well, you know. Be together.”
That did shock her. She set down the rag she’d been using to wipe off a display of wood carvings. “You what?”
“You heard me.”
“So you’re just going to throw everything away to be with someone I distinctly remember you saying you had absolutely no interest in?”
“What exactly would I be throwing away?” I could not understand her reasoning. “At that point the only thing I’ll be throwing away is a virginity that’s not such a great asset, considering it’s the one thing Damon Wilcox seems to want. Get rid of that, get rid of him. It seems pretty simple to me.”
She went very still, staring at me as if she’d never seen me before. “Do you love Adam?”
“Of course I don’t,” I said in some impatience. “But I like him, and he’s a McAllister, and being with him certainly seems a better alternative than spending the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”
“You might think that now,” she replied. Now her tone was sad, the anger somehow ebbing away. For the first time ever I thought she looked old, the lines around her eyes etched a little deeper than they’d been only moments earlier. “But you don’t know what you’d be giving up.”
“And what would I be giving up?”
“The life you should have had.”
Watching her, I thought then that she was talking of something far beyond me. I didn’t know if I should prod her any further. This confrontation had already hurt enough…probably because we so seldom quarreled. But the scab had already been peeled off the wound; walking away now would only let it heal halfway, if that.
“Are you telling me that because you really believe it…or because you think that’s what happened to you?”
A stony silence. She went back to wiping off the wooden figurines, head down. Her eyes would not meet mine. Our roles might have been reversed — she the silent child, I the scolding adult. That wasn’t how I’d intended things to progress, but I didn’t see a way to back down now.
“Look, I get it. You would never talk about what was going on in your personal life when my mother showed up with me, and I suppose that’s your business. But it was a huge disruption. You think I don’t know that?” My throat was tightening now, but I gave a little cough and forced my way onward. “I’m pretty sure that getting a baby dumped on you wasn’t something you planned, and I know you’ve said over and over that having a family of your own was never in the cards, but I’m not sure I believe that anymore. You don’t want me to make a foolish decision now because you feel as if you’ve thrown away your own life, and that would just negate the sacrifices you’ve already made.”
“I do not — ” she began, but I cut her off.
“Yes, what you’ve done to raise me was incredible, and you’ve done an amazing job, but it was always focused on me. Maybe there were others who would’ve taken me in, but you wouldn’t allow that, since you were my aunt, my closest relation.”
She said nothing.
“I’m not marrying Adam because I want to throw my life away. I’m choosing to be with him because fate apparently doesn’t want me to have my consort, and I am concerned about the safety of this clan. At least he cares about me…and I’ll learn to care for him as a husband. He’s already a friend, so I think we’re halfway there.” I paused, thinking she might finally want to say something, but she only stood there in front of the shelf with the carved deer and horses and javelinas on it, shoulders slumped. “And you can ignore this, but you know what I think? I think you and Tobias should get married. I’m out of the house. I’m prima. You don’t need to watch over me anymore. Take care of yourself, and let yourself be happy. That’s all. Because that’s what I’m going to try to do. Be happy, even if things haven’t turned out the way I expected.”
Since there didn’t seem to be anything else to say, and she clearly did not intend to respond, I went and got one of the coffees Tobias had brought in, then went outside. Luckily, the stretch of sidewalk in front of the shop was deserted. I really didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone right then; I just wanted a chance to clear my head. That whole time my combination backpack/purse had been slung over one shoulder, and with my free hand I reached in and pulled out my sunglasses. I didn’t want the world to see the tears that filled my eyes but refused to fall.
For some reason my feet wanted to carry me down Main Street, toward the overlook that afforded an amazing view of the valley beyond. Here there were a few tourists clustered around, taking pictures and chattering with one another, but they ignored me. I was glad of the barrier my sunglasses provided, though, glad they couldn’t see the torment in my face.
I stood at the overlook for a long time, gazing out at the straw-colored, rolling hills of Clarkdale and Cottonwood. Maybe I should have stopped there, but it seemed impossible to keep myself from gazing beyond, to the looming conical shape of Mount Doom — that is, Humphreys Peak. I wondered if Damon Wilcox was looking this way, watching to see what I was doing. Which was silly, because I’d heard you couldn’t just reverse the view…something to do with the differences in elevation and topography. We could see the mountains in Flagstaff, but people there couldn’t really see Jerome very well, not with the unaided eye, that is. Even so, I knew he was there. Waiting. He’d made his play, but was it his final one?
Minutes passed. I don’t know how long I stood there, but eventually I felt someone come up behind me. I turned and saw Tobias standing a few feet way, his normally jovial expression serious.
“Are you going to give me crap for talking to my aunt like that?”
He shook his head and came a little closer. The wind ruffled his overlong hair; in the bright sun I could see how much silver threaded its way through the brown. “That’s not my place. She didn’t want to hear what you said to her…but after she had some time to think about it, she admitted you might have been right. Well, partially right,” he added.
Darkangel (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill) Page 21