At least, I hoped we would.
Gaia, I was far too young—Riel too—to be thinking of children, but the notion of her carrying my young was definitely something that appealed to me.
The Virgo bond was turning me into a Neanderthal, that was for sure.
“Sol salutations are the natural counterpoints to the Gaian candlestick,” Gabriella explained. “The candles cleanse the house, purify the air on a weekly basis. When a candle burns, and the caster utters the cleansing spell, we believe we’re connecting with Gaia, asking her to call on the elements to bless our homes.
“Sol salutations aren’t a blessing. They’re not supposed to purify the house, if anything, they’re supposed to protect the people within.” She cut me a look. “What do you know of the witches’ beliefs on Sol and Gaia?”
“You mean, do we know that our beliefs are different than yours?” I asked, my tone wry.
“Yes,” she replied, her eyes somber. “There’s a great difference. For the Fae—”
“Sol is a warrior, Gaia an instructor. That’s why those two castes are the most important. They emulate the God and Goddess’ natural traits.”
Gabriella nodded. “But for us, they weren’t just that. They were married. The elements were their offspring.” She rubbed the base of the candlestick, her fingers tracing along the hundreds of little leaves that were etched into the brass. “It’s considered bad luck to have this in a house without the Sol salutation.”
“Papa!” Riel’s happy squeak had my lips curving, even if her outburst did break into her grandmother’s explanation. I had to admit to being interested in what she had to say. Interested where, before, I’d have been bored.
Sol, how I’d changed.
“Nena!” came the deep, melodious reply. “I’ve missed you.”
She grunted. “You could have called me.” There was a distinct whacking sound, and I assumed she’d just hit him on the arm.
“Your mother was mad. For good reason. Years of lies, mija.” He tutted.
“I meant well.”
“No good deed goes unpunished,” he replied, and even though I could hear the genuine emotion in his voice that told me he was pleased to see Riel, I could also hear a latent anger in the words that told me her mother wasn’t the only one who was angry.
“Anyway, what have you done to your hair? And are those contacts? Your mother is going to go mad when she sees you,” he spluttered, evidently registering her newly platinum locks and the silvery eyes that were still taking me some time to get used to.
I wasn’t surprised when she cleared her throat and changed the subject. “What are you doing home at this time?”
There was a loud sniffing sound. “Bad head cold. You know how I am in summer. Always the same.”
Footsteps sounded next, and through the open archway that led into a small dining room with a too large table, which I presumed connected with the kitchen, a large man walked through.
Riel’s father had to be over six-six in height, and he was built like a bear. From his speech, I’d assumed he was Latino, but call me prejudiced, I’d just never seen a Latino guy this damn big.
With his arm hooked around Riel, she looked dainty and petite. As small as Gabriella and, I assumed, the absent Luisa.
Gaia’s tears, the man was massive.
He had Riel’s eyes, but that was it. His face was craggy, his eyes dark and chocolate-like, as had been Riel’s before the meteor, and he still had most of his hair even though it was fine and thinning out on top, and it wasn’t due to the low buzzcut he had either.
His throat was as thick as a six-pack of damn beer, and just as I finished gaping at him, he noticed us. His gaze drifted around, catching sight of the wings, as well as the fact that there was a woman who was Gabriella’s twin standing in the room, and he reared back, braking to a halt.
“Who are these—?” He blinked, then shook his head as he looked at Gabriella. “Who are you? Why do you look like my daughter did before she had a stupid hair cut?”
“It would have been a dye, Papa, not a cut. My hair’s the same length,” Riel complained—because a conversation about her hair was really important right about now.
He waved a hand. “Who are you?” he repeated, then he shook his head like he’d been swimming and was trying to get water out of his ear. “Who are all of you?”
Gabriella stepped forward. “You know me, Ernesto.”
He blinked. “I do?” When he reached up and rubbed his temple, he didn’t shock me by murmuring, “I thought I was getting better, but I must be dreaming.”
“No, Ernesto, I’m Gabriella.”
“You’re not Gabriella.” He grunted. “I’m seeing double.”
Riel snorted. “How can you be seeing double when we don’t look the exact same?”
“I had a bad fever. You can have hallucinations in a fever. This—”
“No, Dad. This isn’t a hallucination. You’re not dreaming either. That really is Grandma.”
Gabriella blew out a breath. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”
Seph huffed under his breath. “You think?”
❖
Riel
Convincing my father that he wasn’t lucid dreaming took a lot longer than it should have, and when he learned my grandmother’s reasons for faking her death, it didn’t lessen his scowl any.
He’d always liked her. My abuela hadn’t exactly been the archetypal mother-in-law, and I knew he’d probably liked her more than my mom actually had. They hadn’t had the best of relationships, and I knew a lot of their arguments stemmed from me and my inability to cast the simplest spells. I’d always figured it had always been dicey between them. Papa said they were like chalk and cheese, and he wasn’t wrong.
My mom’s relief when Abuela had died was twofold. One, I knew she was happy she didn’t have to worry about her being shipped back to Cuba. Two, she’d taken it as an opportunity to cut out what little magic we had in our lives.
Gone were the weekly house blessings, and she’d thrown away the Sol salutation on the wall even though I’d sobbed when she’d tossed it in the trash.
Eradicating magic from our lives had hurt, and knowing she did it because my beloved abuela had died and I was useless with casting spells had made me feel even shittier.
I’d been at that weird age of sixteen where it was easy to feel like the world was against you, and where no one and nothing could ever possibly understand what you were going through. Sure, I could see it was the height of selfishness now, but back then? I felt like my world was crashing in on me.
It was one of the reasons I’d cut and run from Miami to LA. Why I’d decided to go to college there. There’d been other reasons, of course. Not wanting to be a free babysitter had been one of those reasons. Not wanting to be the one my mom always called on to help out with the kids—even if I was busy at work or studying, and even if my brothers were just hanging out and messing around.
Escaping to LA had taken a big weight off my shoulders because it had removed some of my resentment since my newfound freedom had given me a joy I hadn’t had before.
Looking back, my selfishness resonated on a whole other level, but I was a kid and I was young, and my mother’s choices weren’t my own, even though she’d tried, repeatedly, to thrust them on me.
And a few hours later, when she returned home with two of my brothers in tow, I was reminded of why we butted heads. Reminded of just how dominant a woman she was when my brothers tried to run toward me and she stopped them by resting her hands on their shoulders.
The second she did that?
I knew my coming here was futile.
I’d thought to start mending bridges, but that wasn’t going to work. Not even bringing Abuela back would do much. I didn’t need the Sight to see that.
As loneliness filtered through me, as well as regret for a mother-daughter relationship that was never going to happen, she sniped, “What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t leav
e until you graduated?”
“No ‘welcome home,’ Mama?” I queried with a scowl.
She stared at the men at my side. “Who are they?” she asked, ignoring my sarcasm. “Apart from Fae.” Then she lifted her chin. “Your Virgo?” Her hand tightened on my brothers’ shoulders as she shook her head. “Are you trying to bring attention to the family? Fae dropping in is only going to cause gossip, Gabriella!”
Because she always made me so mad, I blew out a breath and sought patience—it took too long to come my way. “We sneaked in.” That was all she cared about. Hiding in plain sight. Sure, it was probably ingrained in her, but Sol damn it, didn’t she even give enough of a shit about me to come and hug me?
“They did, Luisa,” my father agreed. “They surprised me too.”
Her nostrils flared. “Well, that’s something.”
“We have news,” I told her, wishing we had the kind of relationship where I’d go to her for a hug upon greeting. Truth was, that was the kind of thing I’d done with my abuela. It was why we’d been so close.
“What kind of news? If it’s about the Academy, I don’t want to know.”
“You made that clear last time we spoke,” I rasped, my irritation surging once more. “But this is about Abuela.”
My grandmother had been standing over by the window since we’d heard Mom’s key in the door, now, she twisted around and walked over to us.
The first sight of her had my mother frowning. “Who are you? Is this Fae magic?”
Abuela scoffed, “No. It’s your daughter’s magic.”
Luisa’s eyes widened. “You sound—”
“That’s because I am.” Gabriella swallowed, and I saw the traces of pain and shame on her face. Sure, she’d done it out of what she considered the best intentions, but those intentions sucked. “I didn’t die, Luisa,” she said, her tone so apologetic that with her words, I wanted to release a bitter laugh. Abuela knew my mother wasn’t going to be happy about her not being dead… How sad was that?
Seph, who was standing close to me, squeezed my shoulder, almost like he was reading my mind. Either he wanted to laugh too, or he was telling me not to. I wasn’t sure which, but the little squeeze kept me in line.
“What kind of locura is this?” Luisa spat, her gaze narrowing on me with the precision of a set of crosshairs because, sure, this had to be my fault.
“I haven’t done a damn thing here. This particular craziness has nothing to do with me.”
Grandmother shot me a look which required no translation—stop with the attitude. I just huffed and folded my arms across my chest.
As she explained what happened, my mother gradually took steps back and away from her, until she was pretty much in the hall again.
That she wanted to run away was a given, but when she caught sight of Linford, her mouth dropped wide open and her eyes sparkled with tears.
“Hola Luisa,” he told her softly, a gentle smile on his lips.
“I remember you,” she whispered, her mouth trembling.
“You would. I used to visit when I wasn’t supposed to.”
My grandmother rolled her eyes. “I always knew when you’d been around.”
Linford stepped forward, his wings trailing a path as my brothers steered around them to avoid him and edge away from my mother. When he reached out, his hands cupping her shoulders, he chivvied her, “Today is a good day. You have more family than ever before.”
The tears in my mother’s eyes had me biting my lip. Luisa wasn’t the kind of woman to cry. She was hard and could be mean sometimes. I had to figure there were moments where she could be soft because surely my father wouldn’t have stuck with her if she was always a pain in the ass, but Sol if I knew.
She reached up and cupped his chin. “How do you look as young now as you did back then?”
Of course, that drew the explanation of the meteor back into the equation, and had me fidgeting around like someone had dropped a shit ton of itching powder into my pants.
“How is this possible?” Luisa drawled, her tone irritated once more as she repeated the question. “Riel finds it hard to make even the most common spells come to life.”
“Because she’s witch born,” Abuela reasoned. “She was always strong, but her magic reacts differently than ours. She has the Fae’s magic to contend with as well. It changes things.”
My mother narrowed her eyes at me. “You did this?” She gestured at her parents’ faces. “You made them young again?”
Wasn’t it weird how a part of me felt like I’d been force fed the world’s encyclopedias, how that part was throbbing with knowledge I didn’t understand, but could somehow tap into, and yet my mother always managed to make me feel like a twelve-year-old? A twelve-year-old she’d accused of cheating from her friend’s test.
“I did.” I kept the answer short and sweet to stop any of my irritation from leaking out. Digging the metallic tips of my nails into my palms helped some, but not totally. I was careful not to draw blood, so maybe that was why it wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped.
“Why?”
“Because I could.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You always did like the easy way out. Have you never stopped and thought of the repercussions of the magic?”
My nostrils flared at her criticism. “In the hundred plus years you’ve been creating portals, Linford, have you suffered for using the magic?”
He hitched a shoulder. “No.”
“Portals?” my father blurted out. “They’re a thing?”
“A rare thing, Ernesto,” my grandmother explained, casting a look at my bewildered father whose mouth was agape. “That’s how we made it in here today without your knowing.”
“Your magic is evidently different than his, so you can’t use him as a comparison,” my mother retorted.
“There is nothing I can compare myself to. Maybe it will kill me in the morning. Maybe the radiation was too much for me to absorb and I won’t be here to piss you off much longer, Mama, but while I am here, I’m going to take advantage of what I can do.”
“Short-sighted as always,” she chided.
How I bit my tongue, I’d never know. The desire to spew a life’s worth of bitterness at her bubbled up inside me. Not only from how she’d thought me useless as a witch and had let me know it, but from the way I’d been free childcare for seven kids.
My men seemed to sense the breach in my control because they came to stand around me. Daniel grabbed my hand on one side and Matt the other. As they squeezed my fingers, I whispered, “I think it’s time to return to Cuba, Abuela.”
My grandmother’s eyes were sad as she switched a glance between my mother and me. “I think so too.”
“Why are you going there?” Luisa demanded, for the first time taking a step forward. My little brothers, ever her puppets, shuffled a few steps forward too.
“That has nothing to do with you, because you don’t consider witch business relevant to your life.”
I turned to my papa and hurried over to him. He’d been mad at me when I’d arrived too. I knew why—he caught the backlash of the shit Mama spewed on me, so I wasn’t mad. Instead, I just hugged him hard, not giving him much say or much of a chance to pull me off him.
When he curved his arms around me too, I sighed, loving the scent of him. He always smelled of laundry detergent and mint Altoids. “You in danger, mija?” he rasped into my hair.
“Maybe.”
He jolted at that, probably taken aback by my candor. “Do you know what you’re doing at least?”
“Nope,” I admitted, squeezing him one last time. “But I’m doing what I think is right.”
“And what about what everyone else thinks?” my mother demanded, her voice angry, but I ignored her.
“She’s doing the right thing, Luisa,” Gabriella stated softly, but I ignored her too.
Stepping up onto tiptoe, I pressed a kiss to my papa’s cheek and said, “Te quiero, Papa.” Then, to Linford
, I murmured, “I think Carlos and his people will have had enough time to discuss the situation, don’t you?”
We’d been here for over three hours, after all. Three long, bitter hours that made my stomach ache with tension.
My grandmother nodded, and she did as I wouldn’t—went over to my mother and hugged her. The embrace was very stiff. Understandable, considering my mother had to be both angry and confused. Sol, I was still feeling the same way, deep in my heart, so I didn’t blame her even if the sight agitated me.
I worked my jaw, but quickly hugged my two youngest brothers before my mother could stop me, then I turned to look at my men. Their concern for me was evident, written into every line on their face. I reached up to rub Daniel’s scowl away from his brow, and as Matt curved his arm around my waist, I tugged Seph’s hand into mine. Today hadn’t gone according to plan. My father didn’t understand these guys were my mates, thought they had something to do with astrology, and my other parent had looked at me as though I were shit on her shoes…
Definitely not what I’d intended.
When the portal started, I didn’t even bother looking at my mother. There’d be a reckoning between us one day, but today wasn’t it.
Was I disappointed? You bet your ass I was.
Neither was I surprised.
I’d come here to lay foundations. My mother needed to know about her parents, and that had to start somewhere. At least now, my family could start to heal, even if I wasn’t involved in that healing. I couldn’t say why that was important to me, just knew that it was.
Maybe it was a portent of things to come, or maybe it was just the action of a daughter who’d once tried to please a mother who was impossible to please—kind of like banging your head against a brick wall and expecting not to get bruises.
The portal was like a door into space and time. We didn’t fall to the ground as we landed, didn’t even stumble. One second we were in Miami, in my parents’ too small, one-story house, and the next, we were back in the office.
The Ascended: The Eight Wings Collection Page 50
