by Arthur, Keri
And yet, heartbreak would happen whether or not I was living with him. The dice had been cast on the day we’d met, and nothing was going to alter the course on which I was now set. Why not grab as much happiness as I could, while I could, before fate threw her spanner into the works?
I took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Okay then.”
There was a long pause. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
His joy practically vibrated down the line. “I’ll start making room in my wardrobe.”
I laughed even as my heart did another of those ridiculous little dances. “I can use the one in the spare room.”
“I’ve seen your wardrobe—trust me, there’ll be plenty of room in mine. Besides, how can I have the pleasure of watching you dress if you’re doing so in the other room?”
I laughed again, though this time it was a deep and husky sound. “I’m thinking said watching might just lead to other things.”
“Oh, I’m counting on it.”
Anticipation shot through me. Of course, it was a little preemptive given the whole Clayton situation. “Are you coming around for breakfast tomorrow? You can catch me up on why the Manananggal escaped you both then.”
“She didn’t escape. Monty’s tracker is still on her.”
“Then why—”
“She’s holed up in a cave surrounded by some pretty strong spells. Monty thinks it better if we attack her in the morning, when she’s more restricted.”
“Daylight might kill her, but we’ve no idea if it’ll weaken her magic.”
“No, but the fact she hasn’t managed to take another victim will.”
“What if she leaves the cave?”
“Then we’ll deal with her.”
“You’re still there?” I asked, surprised.
“Yeah, although I don’t think Monty is too happy about spending the night out in the open.”
“He does like his creature comforts.” I hesitated. “It might be wise if he calls in Ashworth, just to be safe.”
“Ashworth is already on the way here, though I suspect the only reason Monty asked him was so he could bring a supply of coffee and food.”
“I suspect you might be right. Be careful out there.”
“Always,” he replied. “Sweet dreams, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
He hung up, leaving me feeling slightly left out. I wasn’t the reservation witch and certainly didn’t have the power or the knowledge to counter the bitch’s spells, but I really wanted to be out there with them.
I sighed and put the phone back on the bedside table. Once I’d stripped off, I climbed into bed and went to sleep.
And for the first time in ages, dreamed of a future filled with happiness rather than death and destruction.
* * *
To say the three men arrived at the café the next morning looking less than happy would be the understatement of the year.
“Let me guess,” I said, as I closed the door behind them. “She wasn’t there; only the tracker spell was.”
“She had an escape route all ready.” Monty dropped heavily onto a chair. “We only discovered it after we’d peeled back her spells and went in after her.”
I hobbled around the counter and began making coffee. “You didn’t check for other exits?”
“Of course we did,” Aiden said. “Problem was, she’d already left by the time we’d arrived—something we didn’t know until we entered the cavern itself.”
“Can’t you use a piece of her magic to track her with?” Belle came out of the kitchen carrying plates stacked with bacon and eggs. “You said you peeled it back, not destroyed it.”
“That’s what we’re intending,” Ashworth said. “But the laddie here insisted we wait until the sun had fully risen.”
“Makes sense,” Belle said. “When the sun is at its strongest, she’ll be at her weakest.”
“That’s exactly my reasoning,” Monty exclaimed.
“Your reasoning,” Ashworth said, amusement evident, “has more to do with that rumbling stomach of yours than the best time to attack the Manananggal, and we all know it.”
Monty grinned and didn’t deny it. As Belle returned to the kitchen to grab the rest of the food, Aiden took the tray of drinks from me and carried it over to the table.
“How are we going to tackle her capture?” Belle placed a stack of toast on the table, then plonked down beside Monty.
“We?” he said, eyebrows rising.
“It was a metaphorical we,” Belle said. “Curiosity, not stupidity.”
“Except if I know my cousin, she wants in.”
I smiled faintly as I made myself a bacon sandwich. “She certainly does, but she’s also aware that if things go wrong, she can’t run.”
“She can’t?” Monty glanced down. “What happened to your leg?”
“A dead man exploded. Aiden didn’t tell you?”
“That he was dead, yes, but not that he’d exploded. How the hell did that happen?”
I quickly updated him and then added, “She’s probably got more than one grenade at hand, so you’ll have to watch for physical traps as much as magical.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time a ghoul has tried to blow me up,” Ashworth said. “I daresay it won’t be the last.”
“That’s undoubtedly true,” Monty agreed, his tone grave but his eyes twinkling, “Especially given how old and crotchety you are.”
“You, laddie, need to respect your elders more, or they’ll box you around the ears.” He glanced at me. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything from Canberra?”
I shook my head. “Ruby said it’d be a few days before the decision is made. You’re more likely to hear something than us right now.”
“Sophie tends not to say much—”
“I wish that ran in families,” Monty murmured.
“—when it comes to active cases,” Ashworth continued, obviously deciding to ignore him. “Which in this case suggests they’re taking it on. It’ll have to be ratified before the full board before you’re advised though.”
“Ruby said as much.” I bit into my sandwich and munched on it for a bit. “I’m worried about Clayton, though. Anger consumes him, and all he wants is revenge. I don’t think whatever control my father has on him will last beyond the annulment.”
“The Society has people keeping an eye on him, lass,” Ashworth said. “The minute he makes a move to leave Canberra, we’ll know about it. It’ll give us plenty of time to prepare.”
But would those preparations be enough? Every instinct screamed no, but maybe that was just the fear of the sixteen-year-old seeping through yet again.
Aiden slipped his hand over my thigh and lightly squeezed. My gaze met his, and deep in those depths, I saw a promise—one to keep me safe no matter what.
But that’s exactly what I feared—that his life might be forfeit right alongside Belle’s if Clayton did make it back here. Not only because they were the two most important people in my life, but also because Belle had taken Clayton’s manhood and Aiden had claimed what Clayton had been denied—me.
Aiden’s phone rang. He glanced at it and then rose. “Sorry, have to answer this.”
As he moved to the other side of the room, Monty said, “I’m betting that’s the report of another body.”
“That’s a bet no one in this room would take,” Ashworth said. “The Manananggal had plenty time after escaping us last night to find someone to feed on.”
“Was last night’s bridal party relocated?” I asked.
“Yes,” Monty said, “and Aiden triggered her spell rather than the groom, so she won’t be able to find them.”
I took a sip of coffee. “Do you think the spell is the reason she knew you were after her? It’s not like you had time to nullify it last night.”
“Doubtful,” Ashworth said. “As it’s not in an active state.”
It was a comment that had me glancing at Aiden’s right hand; spell strings
still clung to his fingers. I frowned. “Why haven’t you removed it?”
“Because if we can’t track her this afternoon,” Monty said, “we may have to use him as bait.”
“You’d better keep him safe if you do, or I’ll cut off something vital.”
“My future wife might not be too pleased with that,” he commented, shooting a clearly amused look Belle’s way.
“I was talking about access to free breakfasts, but I’ll happily shift focus to your manhood if you want.” I glanced past him as Aiden returned. His expression suggested Monty’s guess had been spot-on. “Another murder?”
He nodded. “And it’s in the same area we believe the Manananggal is.”
Monty drained his coffee and then stood. “Are we dealing with a single or double death?”
“Single.” Aiden’s gaze met mine. “Dinner later?”
I nodded. As he headed for the door, Monty a couple of steps behind them, Ashworth rose and said, “Thought you might like this.”
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me.
I accepted it with a frown. “What is it?”
“Your mother’s phone number.”
My stomach did an odd flip-flop. “How’d you get it?”
“She asked Sophie for your contact details. Sophie got hers instead. The choice should be yours as to whether you want to talk to her or not.”
I didn’t say anything. I really couldn’t. I just stared at the white bit of paper, a dozen different emotions tumbling through me. Belle and I might have discussed the possibility, but this little bit of paper meant I now had to make a decision.
My inner child still wanted nothing more than to run and hide from the possibility of hurt that the contact would bring. The adult I’d become wanted answers, even if they did hurt. I wasn’t entirely sure which half of me was stronger.
Ashworth lightly gripped my shoulder. “I’ll not advise you one way or another, lass. Just know that Eli and I are here if you need us.”
I blinked against the sting of tears and briefly gripped his hand. “I know. Thank you.”
“I haven’t got a daughter,” he said, his voice a little gruff. “But if I had, I sure as hell would have been proud if she’d grown up like you. Your parents are idiots.”
And with that, he turned and marched out the door.
“We definitely struck it lucky when he and Eli came into our lives,” Belle murmured.
“And part of me thinks I should be happy with that and not look backwards.”
Belle glanced at me. “You’ve spent all these years second-guessing your mom’s part in this. If nothing else, you deserve to have some answers. You don’t have to have any sort of relationship with any of them beyond that. As Ashworth said, the choice is yours.”
The choice might be mine, but would my father take any notice? Now that he was aware of my link to the wild magic, I very much doubted it.
I took a deep breath and released it slowly. One problem at a time was a motto I needed to follow for the next few days.
My father could wait until after I’d decided what to do about my mother.
* * *
In the end, the adult—and the need for answers—won.
But my hands shook as I slowly keyed in her phone number, and it took what seemed like forever before I could press the green call button.
The phone rang… and rang.
My stomach was twisting so badly it physically hurt. I wanted to hang up, to say I’d tried and leave it at that. And yet I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened if I’d only held on and asked my questions.
Whether I could actually trust the answers I got over the phone was another matter entirely. My mother, like my father, had played in the political arena for decades, and was well versed in the art of subtle manipulation.
Finally, the ringing stopped and a cool voice said, “Eleanor Marlowe speaking. How may I help you?”
The sound of her voice after all these years sent a wild mix of joy, anger, hurt, fury, and sorrow tumbling through me, and it momentarily robbed me of the ability to speak. This woman was my mother, but she’d always been something of a stranger.
“Hello?” she repeated. And then, with the slightest catch that spoke of uncertainty, added, “Elizabeth?”
“Yes.” The response was whispered; my throat was so damn dry I couldn’t manage anything else.
“Oh.” She paused. Gathering herself, I suspected. Controlling her emotions—or was that merely the wishful hopes of that lonely inner child? “Thank you for calling. I wasn’t sure—”
“Neither was I.” And I still wasn’t, if I was being at all honest. I took a deep breath and plunged on before courage fled. “But I needed to know why you didn’t stop the marriage. You must have known I’d have never willingly agreed to it.”
There was a longer pause. “You really must believe that I had no idea your father had used a combination of drugs and spells—”
Anger—and old hurt—stirred, making my response sharper than I’d intended. “Did that response wash with the Black Lantern people? Because it certainly doesn’t with me.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You might not have known about his use of drugs,” I retorted, “but you’re every bit as strong as him magically—why didn’t you see the threads of his spell on me?”
“Because you and I rarely interacted after Catherine’s death. There was little opportunity or time—”
“There was nothing stopping you from making the time.” It was angrily said, but I didn’t really care. After so many years of holding back, it felt good to finally unleash. Which might not have been wise, but I wasn’t really in the mood to be wise right now. “I’m your goddamn daughter—did it never cross your mind to at least ask if I was okay?”
“No,” she said softly. “It did not.”
Four words. Four simple, brutally honest words that were nothing but the truth and yet still so unexpected. I’d grown up well aware of my own insignificance within our family, but hearing it confirmed like this, however regretfully…
My anger fled, leaving only a deep and empty sadness behind.
I’d spent nearly thirteen years hoping that she’d had no part in pawning me off to Clayton. Thirteen years of hoping that when she did find out, it would somehow bring us closer together.
The truth was, nothing would ever do that. She simply didn’t care enough about me.
And while I’d always been envious of the relationship she’d had with Cat and my brother, Juli, I now had to wonder just how much of that was due to their worth, power-wise. In the cold light of this conversation, I rather suspected it had played—and, in the case of my brother and his offspring, still did play—a major role.
I scrubbed a hand across eyes that ached but had no tears to shed, and said wearily, “Why on earth did you ask to contact me?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
Of course it was. Why would I think anything else when I’d grown up well aware that appearing to do and say the right thing was all that really mattered. “I suppose that’s why you broke up with Dad?”
“His actions in this whole farce have put me in an intolerable position.” She paused, as if suddenly realizing how all that sounded. “Which doesn’t mean I’m not sorry for what happened or for my own lack of foresight and support. I am. It’s just—”
“That you care more about your standing in Canberra than the daughter who offers you so little.”
“That is unfair and untrue.”
“It’s nevertheless how I’ve always felt.”
“Then I am doubly sorry—”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I cut in. “It really doesn’t.”
Even as I said that, a weight lifted. It was the truth. I had a life—a good life—and people who loved me as my parents never had. The inner child might have wanted reconciliation but the reality was, what I’d found in Castle
Rock was far more real than anything I’d ever get from my parents.
She didn’t immediately reply and—though it was probably nothing more than imagination—her hurt filled the silence. I let it stretch.
Her next question, when it eventually came, did surprise me.
“Is there anything I can do for you, Elizabeth? I know nothing can ever make up for the trauma you went through, but…”
Her words trailed off. Perhaps she realized it was a case of too little, too late.
“There is something,” I replied evenly. “Make sure the annulment is pushed through quickly.”
“Your father is attending to that, but I’ll ensure there are no delays.”
Meaning that despite their so-called split, the two remained in contact. No doubt once this had all blown over and my father was given whatever meager punishment the council deemed appropriate, they’d renew their alliance and continue on as if nothing had ever happened.
“The other thing you can do is keep an eye on Clayton. If he leaves Canberra, please let me know immediately.”
“Clayton would not be foolish enough to leave Canberra when the specter of an investigation haunts him. It would be testament to guilt.”
“Have you spoken to him since he and Dad returned?”
“Of course not, but—”
“Then you can’t speak to his state of mind. Trust me, he wants revenge. On me, on Belle—” I paused as instinct stirred. “When did you last speak to Dad?”
“Yesterday—why?”
“It’s possible Clayton might well hold him ultimately responsible for the marriage and its consequences.”
I could almost see her frown. “What consequences?”
“Belle placed an anti-erection spell on him. According to what he said when we met, it still holds.”
“Belle did that?” Her disbelief echoed.
“She’s far more capable than any of you ever imagined, but that’s not the point. Check Dad. My instincts are saying he might be in trouble.”
“Clayton is hardly that foolish, but I’ll nevertheless do as you ask. Your psychic skills were always your one strength.”