Pye and Salem were doing everything in their power to keep the more spry Jinx from sacking me, and I realized I was going to have to carry the ball myself if we had any chance of scoring. With a deep breath, I took off at a sprint, bounding over Mag’s prone figure as Gran raised her hand and grabbed hold of one of my shoelaces which had come untied at the most inopportune moment.
Fortunately, Vaeta’s final attempt to assist me came in the form of one more gust of wind, which I rode into a somersault and landed on my feet ready to take off down the field.
The wall of sound slammed into me as if I’d pelted full tilt into an actual wall. My hair blew straight back, and then, so did I. Three or four running steps backward, and I landed in a dazed heap with the pigskin lying on my chest.
“What is that horrible noise?” I couldn’t imagine who might be blowing a foghorn on a day this clear, or this far from port. Or this freaking loud.
“Sorry. I’ve been waiting for this call, so I cast a little amplifying spell on my ringtone.” Gran’s focus slid toward Mag, and I read excitement along with an odd reluctance in her expression before I scrambled back to my feet. Aunt Mag avoided my attempt to get her attention, so I shot Terra a questioning look. If anyone knew what was going on, it would be the undisputed queen of household gossip. All I got back was a half shrug that amped my curiosity up another level.
Ten minutes passed while we waited for my grandmother to return, and when she did, her face gave away nothing. The game resumed, and only because I continued to watch while seemingly remaining uninterested, did I see Aunt Mag and her sister exchange a glance that spoke volumes. Whatever the call had been about, it put a smile on both their faces and a glint in their eyes.
Chapter Eight
MY PROMISE NOT TO RETURN to Deli Delight rendered null and void by the jerk I’d made it to—yes, I was getting to the anger phase in my breakup grieving process—I had just bitten into the crunchiest pickle in existence when the door to FootSwept opened without the usual polite knock.
“What are you doing here?” I left a film of salty brine on the button mounted under the lip of my desktop when I tapped out the SOS. How it worked, I had no clue since there were no wires or other connections to the button, but it never failed to bring Flix when I needed him. Unless we were fighting and even then, I doubted he would ignore the distress code.
“Can’t I pay my dear sister a visit without reliving the Inquisition?” Jett looked like the cat who swallowed the canary, and I wondered whether he was daft enough to think I’d forgotten his conversation with Serena and the way he’d relished the idea of taking me down a notch.
“Get out of my office.” I spat and stood to look my brother square in the eye. “Now.” Lightning flickers arced between fingers itching to work up a good hex to throw at him. Self-defense shouldn’t come with magical consequences, right?
Jett lifted an eyebrow at me. “Or what? What exactly will the great Lexi Balefire do to me if I don’t vacate the premises?” He leaned against the door and crossed his arms; fixed me with a defiant stare that made my blood boil. “Don’t you want to know why I stopped by?”
“I’m assuming you’re here to do one of the only two things you ever do: make idle threats or whine about how our father loved my mother more than he loved yours.” Jett’s face paled, and his self-righteous smirk disappeared. “Get over yourself and grow up,” I added for good measure.
A sneer twisted his face. “Your mother was a...”
The air pressure changed when Flix walked through the connecting door leading to his salon and made his way across the room. I felt the tremble of banked power running through the hand that dropped to soothe my shoulder and assure me he had my back. Literally, at the moment.
“Trixie sends her regards.” Referring to my childhood obsession with Trixie Belden, a fictional sleuth featured in a set of books I’d unearthed from a box in my mother’s closet when I was young, Flix let me know he’d not been ignoring my call. He’d been listening behind the door before making his entrance.
“Striker.” His voice boomed with a resonance only the Fae can achieve, and then only when they really want to make a point. “Back to pick a new vacation spot? I have a couple in mind that I think would suit your needs. You prefer sun or snow?” Flix used a sardonic expression to get his point across. One that said he would brook no further threat from Jett and the next time he sent my brother to the Faelands, it would indeed be a one-way trip. “Or did you spend the last few weeks coming up with a good “your mama” slam to throw at Lexi?”
I watched, for the first time ever in my presence, Jett gather his faculties and resist hurling an insult back at Flix. Perhaps his time in Faerie had taught him a lesson or two in self-control.
“Actually, I came to deliver a message from her.”
My eyes flicked from Jett’s face to Flix’s and back again, “A message from who now?”
“Your mother. Sylvana.” Jett enunciated every syllable, relishing the opportunity to catch me off guard.
“You expect us to believe you’ve been in contact with Lexi’s mother? After the way she treated Kin, what makes you think Lexi wants to hear from her? Or that we’d believe Sylvana would trust someone like you with sensitive information.” Flix glanced in my direction again, and we had one of our unspoken conversations. He’d never say it out loud, but the thought of my disloyal mother cavorting with the likes of Jett wasn’t entirely out of the question.
Jett got down on one knee, pulled a pocket knife out of his jeans, and pressed the tip to the center of his palm until a few drops of blood trickled over the blade. “Give me your hand.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” Something was going on here that I had no idea about, but Flix did.
“It’s all right, Lexi. Do as he says.” Flix’s posture had changed, and he’d gone from the offensive to a bored sort of resignation laced with irritation. “It’s a blood oath. He’s not going to cut you.”
Jett looked almost as disgusted as I felt when I placed my fingers in his blood-stained hand, but the sensation didn’t last long because as soon as our palms touched a rumble of magic shook the room and I was mesmerized by the sound of my mother’s voice booming through the space.
“Please Lexi, listen to me just this once—you already have everything you need to defeat the Darkest Heart. The answer lies within.” That was it; no apology, no further instructions or helpful suggestions. Of course, my mother would send some cryptic message that made no sense to me whatsoever.
“Told you so. And now I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, repaid my debt, and am free of you and your train wreck of a family.”
Instinct took me over. Checked my brain out like a library book and before I realized what I’d done, I was holding the Bow of Destiny in my hand. Not the ethereal, light-filled Goddess, but me, Lexi. The flesh and bone witch cupping the rock-solid shaft of an arrow nestled into the taut string—aimed and ready to fire.
“Don’t push your luck, because I’d just as soon shoot you as look at you, and I’d be perfectly fine if instead of finding your true love you found out the same thing our father did when it happened to him.”
I never meant to tell Jett about the real events on the day our father walked off and left his prized possession behind. For one, I didn’t want to turn Gran into a target—though it would be worth it to see Jett try for her. Green and warty might look good on him. Secondly, I liked having something in my back pocket after he’d found such glee in knowing things about me that I didn’t even know myself.
But the truth was, Gran had been responsible for Cupid’s unexpected, wordless departure from this realm. She’d given my father a taste of his own medicine during the debacle that had banished my mother and ended with Gran being stoned for two and a half decades. When I thought about it in those terms, I understood why my grandmother had suffered the consequences with dignity—she felt like she deserved them, even though her intentions had been noble.
Na
ked greed washed over Jett’s face at the sight of the living gold glinting in my hands, but for once, he had sense enough to rein himself in. What would happen if I loosed an arrow at him was anyone’s guess, and it seemed he was as loathe to find out as I should have been. At the moment, I was playing eenie-meenie-miney-mo in my head. Seemed like as good a way to decide as any.
Practically spitting fire, Jett stepped forward, “That’s mine, you have no right to...”
“One more step, Jett. I’m not kidding.” I said through gritted teeth.
“...my father’s possessions.” He stopped. His hands fell to his sides.
“Sorry, brother, I guess you’ll just have to deal,”
“Forget it. I didn’t come here to fight. You just seem to bring out the worst in me.”
“Right back at you, big brother. Now get out.”
If there was a hint of admiration in the look he threw over his shoulder on his way out the door, it had to be a trick of the light.
GOING HOME and acting normal after the horrible day I’d just experienced threatened to sap up every ounce of energy I had to spare. Avoiding the unholy combination of godmothers, grandmother, and intuitive aunt until I felt more settled seemed like a good idea.
Salem would pounce and demand I work on honing my magic the second I stepped into the workshop, and I no longer had a second home with Kin, so unless I wanted to dump out this new bag of wacky for family inspection, I needed some time to sort through it before going home. The emotional shrapnel would just have to work its way into my soul until I could find a pair of tweezers big enough to remove it without losing any more of myself.
So, I turned to the one other person who shared my dislike of Jett.
“Men suck.” Serena waved her virgin daiquiri in my face. After a second unsuccessful round of where’s the talisman, we’d taken our bonding ritual to the nearest bar.
“Beyond the telling of it. You know, I could fix you up with someone better than my jerk of a brother.” A haze of alcohol momentarily glossed over the reason we were there in the first place. To celebrate how much we thought men suck.
“Dating isn’t on my current to-do list.” The dry comment fell on drunk ears. “I’m pregnant with a godling child makes lousy fodder for first date conversations. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”
“Besides, men suck.” I toasted the sentiment again. “You could always call Diana Diamond if you don’t think I’m up for the challenge. The way things are going, I’m starting to think my clients would be better off letting the Queen of Hearts take over.”
Serena snorted, “Stop whining. It’s not attractive, even on you. And there’s something off about that Diamond woman. Really off. She gives me the creepy vibe, you know what I mean?”
Every witch comes into the world with an affinity for at least one area of the craft. Divination, spell casting, heightened intuition, the ability to fashion tools of unfathomable strength. Having been part of a decade-long feud with Serena, I had no idea whether hers was an actual affinity for seeing the heart of a person or if her upbringing had fostered a reluctance to trust people. Either way, she was spot on about Diana Diamond.
Nabbing the cherry on a plastic skewer from her drink, Serena said, “When I’m ready, you’ll be my first phone call. What I really don’t want is to end up in a relationship like my parents. My mother thinks my father is worthless because he has no power, begging the question of why she ever married him in the first place. I swear, she’s scowling in their wedding photos.”
Because families fascinate me, I had to ask. “Was it always like that?”
“I’ve never heard her speak a good word about him, and I’ve always had the impression she has some kind of hold over him considering he appears to hate her with as much passion as she hates him. What kind of life is that?”
“They’re definitely not soul mates, I could tell that from the first time I visited your house. And I was only six years old.”
“It wouldn’t take a magical matchmaker to figure that out.” Serena spit with disgust. “Great role models. I think I always knew Jett didn’t actually care about me. But at least there weren’t going to be any surprises when his true colors finally came out. Pretty pathetic, huh? And now I’m stuck raising his kid all by myself.”
I placed a hand on top of Serena’s, something I never in a million years thought I’d do in a display of comfort. “You’re not alone, and you’re not pathetic. You’ve responded to what life has thrown at you, but that doesn’t mean you’re doomed to make the same mistakes.”
“Doesn’t it, though? Seems to work out that way for most people. Or are you the exception to that rule?”
I thought about Serena’s question for a long minute. “I chose an alternative path to my mother’s and went with the gettable guy. The guy who was supposed to be mine. I just assumed soul mate equaled euphoric, trouble-free relationship and didn’t realize happily ever after is baloney.”
“We’re dealing with broken hearts here, I think we’re past euphemisms for bullshit. Live a little, Lexi.”
“In that case, I wish Kin Clark was the biggest asshole in four counties. Maybe then this wouldn’t hurt so bad.” I took the last swig of my daiquiri and suppressed a scrunched-up expression when I realized all the rum had settled to the bottom of the glass. “One more, bartender.”
I swear I didn’t mean to use a persuasion charm on the short, prematurely balding man to speed up the process, but my inhibitions were slightly lower than usual, and I figured karma owed me a favor.
“It still would. It always does. Sometimes it hurts more to be rejected by someone who wasn’t even worth your time. And besides, the fact that Kin was willing to give you up means he definitely wasn’t worth it. Obviously didn’t know what he had.”
Did Serena just compliment me? My brain had trouble taking it all in. Might have been the daiquiris though.
“You should take your own advice, Snodgrass.” I leaned in and bumped her shoulder with my own, bestowing upon her the gentle smile of the truly hammered. “You’re not nearly repulsive as I always thought you were.”
“Gee, thanks, Balefire.”
“Can I tell you something?” I was about to confide in Serena Snodgrass, who I’d called every curse word in the book and nearly killed with dark magic once upon a time. Another one of life’s little surprises. Serena nodded and motioned for me to continue.
“I’ve never had a real boyfriend before Kin. Not someone whose soul mate I couldn’t sniff out within ten seconds of meeting him. That’s pathetic.”
“To two pathetic women and their pathetic love lives.” Serena raised her virgin drink, and we clinked before taking a sip.
“Lexi Balefire is not pathetic.” A voice hissed into my ear, causing me to whirl around and nearly spill my drink.
“Mona!” I exclaimed, realizing how happy I was to see her after having avoided her calls and texts for weeks. “And you don’t know the half of it. Have a seat. This is Serena.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Mona leaned forward to make eye contact.
“Nice to meet you, too.” Serena's face closed off, and I wasn't so wasted that I didn't notice and wonder why. “Next round is on me.”
Mona softened. “Thanks. Lexi, why haven’t you been answering my text messages and voicemails?” Mona demanded. “I know that whatever is going on with Kin is tough, but I’m still your friend, and I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Mona, I’ve just been wallowing in self-pity while the love of my life takes up with the bleached blond bimbo from hell. Does Mark know anything about this?”
I felt no shame about asking; that’s what girlfriends are for.
“Mark is as baffled as I am. She’s horrid, and he’s acting like a zombie. It’s like he’s under a spell or something.” I nearly spit my drink across the table and exchanged a wide-eyed look with Serena. “I know he still loves you though, Lexi, I just don’t know what he’s thinking right now.”
“Well, you could have fooled me. Maybe Kin just doesn’t want to deal with me and my issues anymore.”
Mona looked at me like I was crazy, “What issues? You’re the most put-together person I know."
How she could say that after being present for more than one meltdown when the complications of my life got out of hand, I'll never know.
"And besides," Mona continued, "we all have our problems and our baggage. But love is enough to conquer all. Sometimes it just takes a bit of hard work.”
It should have been me, daughter of the God of Love, spewing lines like that, but my confidence had begun to waver in the wake of personal tragedy. They say you shouldn’t take your personal life to work with you, or vice-versa. It’s a little more complicated than that in my case.
Serena rolled her eyes, “Pfft. I'll trade problems with either one of you any day of the week. What’s going to be hard work is raising this baby by myself. Some people just don’t want to put in the effort. Doesn’t sound like Kin wants to put in the effort any more than my ex-boyfriend does. Lexi’s better off.”
It felt like I had the devil on one shoulder—okay make that barstool, and the angel on the other, and at the moment, I couldn’t help agreeing with my more bitter friend. It’s easy to spout off platitudes when you’re in a loving relationship with a man who worships the ground you walk on. I was eternally happy for Mona, but this is why single girls stick together. It’s much harder to cultivate cynicism when hanging around with someone who always thinks the glass is half full.
As if things couldn't get worse, my half-brother chose that moment to walk into the bar. I was beginning to wonder if Jett had me bugged. Or maybe Serena.
“Incoming,” I nudged Serena and tilted my head in Jett’s direction. Sheer terror crossed her face as she tried, unsuccessfully, to melt into the floor.
“Oh, no.” Understatement of the year.
“Well look what we have here. You’re still slumming it, I see, Reen.” Jett opened with an insult and I worried my shaky hold on self-control might not be able to handle two confrontations with my brother on the same day. The only saving grace was the fact that we were in a public place, and Jett knew better than to reveal our witchiness to normal humans, regardless of his contempt for anyone non-magic-bearing. “Let me know when you’re ready to play with the big boys again.”
Spell Hath No Fury Page 7