by Patti Larsen
He sank into one of the kitchen chairs with my sister still in his arms while tires screeched on the pavement outside the house. Lights flashed over and over as multiple cars arrived. I pulled myself together, preparing for the arrival of the coven en masse, as someone passed the wards of the back yard, his Sidhe energy flooding me with relief.
There wasn't much Galleytrot could do, and I knew it, but having him here just added to my sense of control. The hound of the Wild Hunt entered the kitchen, panting from what was obviously a flat out run, eyes alight with red fire.
“I felt them come.” His deep voice rumbled like a thunderstorm about to break overhead. “And Miriam leave. Are you all right?”
I shook my head, tight, jerking movements back and forth. “They arrested her.”
He sighed deeply, tongue lolling out. “The Dumont's plans seem to finally have come to fruition.”
Of course. Why didn't I think of that? Trumped up charges... I suddenly felt a surge of something close to release. If they were throwing false accusations around, which was obviously what they were doing, Mom had nothing to worry about.
I wished Erica shared my opinion. She dumped her mess the moment she flew in the kitchen.
“We have to do something.” When did Erica start getting wrinkles? I mentally shook my head. Who was I kidding? I was a week or so shy of my eighteenth birthday and I probably had them, thanks to the endless disaster that was my family.
“Pull yourself together.” I'd forgotten about Sassafras. His voice struck out like a whip as he jumped up on the kitchen table to be closer in height to the trembling witch. “Syd needs you. We all do. And don't think your past behavior is lost on Miriam, Erica Plower. Your position can be filled with a more suitable candidate if necessary.”
She flinched, cheeks flushing as anger raged in her eyes. Good. Anger I could use.
“Erica,” I drew her attention and her unhappiness. “It's going to be okay. The Dumonts have nothing on Mom, remember? And this is the High Council we're talking about. There's no way they can influence the entire conclave of witches.”
Erica sagged a little, nodding. “You're right.” Her shoulders straightened as the door opened and the Vegas let themselves in, a line of coven members right behind them. Louisa came directly to me, her dear face scrunched in concern. She kissed me soundly on the cheek before turning and hugging Quaid, so small he didn’t have to stand for her to do so. She patted at his cheeks, kissing him, too.
I smiled and hugged Martin as he joined us, so happy to have them there. The Vegas had been a large part of my life when I was little, almost surrogate parents at times. And the childless couple were Quaid’s guardians when he was around, just so happy to have someone to take care of they doted on him like he was their own.
I let Erica deal with the rest of the crowd as Martin finally released me and bent to hug Quaid himself. Erica turned on the others with a small smile, calm and level, her magic shaking only a little.
Small miracles.
Syd, Sassy's mind touched mine, watch her. She's been under a lot of stress. She was never able to handle change very well.
Of course he'd have more knowledge than me. She was older so I only ever saw her mothering side.
I'm going to go contact Harry if he's not arriving on his own already. He's bound to have felt Miriam's power loss.
I nodded to him as he hopped down and scampered to the stairs, disappearing into the basement.
The pressure of the family on my mind grew stronger. But this time I knew what to do. I had enough anger behind what happened I didn't feel even a moment of hesitation as I took control of the coven magic and pulled them all together. It was a soft touch from Quaid, gentle and unexpected, which carved the sharp edge from my contact with them, just enough they fell silent and looked to me for guidance.
“It's going to be okay.” I tapped into Shaylee, let her soothe them with her Sidhe energy. “Mom has this completely under control. I know you're all aware the Dumonts want nothing more than for our family to fall apart. That's why we're going to show them and the High Council exactly what the Hayle coven is made of. What Miriam Hayle has made of us.”
Their collective surge of gratitude and bolstering of confidence caused me to feel a little giddy, but I held onto my poise. “Whatever charges they've brought against Mom are totally false. You've all been here, lived what we've lived. You know the truth. And it's that truth we'll use to set Mom free.”
I felt like a general calling her troops to battle with every cliché saying I could think of, but it did the trick. More than did the trick. Suddenly they were angry.
Awesome.
The mercurial shift in their mood was giving me a tension headache. Not for the first time I wondered how Mom handled it so well while I felt like I was just hanging on by my chewed fingernails.
A few of the family glommed onto me instantly, using me as a lifeline. All of a sudden I wasn't so sure having their trust was a good thing. Worse than Alison, some of them, clinging and pulling at me like I could save them. I gently detached myself while I shuddered inwardly and pulled free, letting the family go.
“Go home,” I said. “And keep faith. I'll let you know the moment I have news.”
They dispersed, the crowd of witches drifting away in small groups, but there was hope in their whispered voices. I followed them out, watched as the line of haphazardly parked cars powered up and drove off. I wondered then what our neighbors thought of the sudden arrival of about a hundred people at our house at all hours of the day and night.
Nothing, thanks to the Sidhe. The Gate in the center of town did its part to keep us safe and prevent locals from noticing anything magical.
We had one blessing on our side at least.
I turned to go back inside, to Erica and Quaid and my sister, when I felt Louisa and Martin Vega reach for me.
Syd, we need to talk to you.
They spoke in tandem, mental voices overlapping. But neither laughed at the snap.
Of course. I really just wanted to go back inside to my family and break down for minute in private, but if the Vegas were reaching out, it had to be big.
They hesitated, both of them at exactly the same time, before Martin went on alone.
Not this way. In person. I’m sorry we couldn’t stay. We needed to talk to you away from the others.
Louisa cut in. There are those who shouldn’t know we spoke. Please, it's very important.
I'd adored the Vegas my entire life, was loved and spoiled by them, the very last witches to judge me, always on my side, even at the worst of times. If they thought it was that vital they had to see me in person, they'd have me in person.
But not right away. I just had to have a second to process before I imploded.
I'll be over in an hour.
I felt them hug me mentally, their gratitude mixed with worry.
I gently cut off my contact and tried not to guess what they had to tell me.
Because I just knew it couldn't be good.
***
Chapter Four
The moment I passed back over the threshold, the Vega's voices still echoing in my head, the phone rang. I sighed, wanting to ignore it, eyes locked on Quaid, but Erica was already answering it.
“Yes? One moment.” She held it out to me, an apologetic look on her face.
Great. Thanks. Just what I needed. A chit chat over nothing while my mother was being falsely persecuted.
“Hello?” That was snippy, even for annoyed Syd. I winced a little as the voice on the other end of the line gasped softly.
“Syd?” Angela Morgan sounded upset. “I'm sorry, am I interrupting?”
Um, yeah. “No, sorry, hello Mrs. Morgan.” I leaned against the wall, the cordless balanced between my cheek and shoulder as I drew a deep breath and tried to refocus from my witchy life to what remained of my normal one. “How are you?”
She didn't answer me, just plunged ahead in a rush of words. “Can I speak to Aliso
n?” Her voice was strained, words a little stuttery. Like she was afraid of something.
“Alison?” I stood upright. I'd been trying to reach her myself. But I wasn't about to tell Angela anything until I knew what was going on.
“I'm at the house, and it's so dark, her bed is still made and Rosetta isn't here.” Angela stumbled to a halt before laughing, a hysterical edge to her voice. “She said she wanted to come back on her own for a few weeks and we thought, well, her therapist said... we thought that would be nice.” Angela's brittle tone intensified as she rushed on. “She told us she was going to stay with you mostly. Said your mother was fine with it. But Rosetta was supposed to be here to take care of her when she was home and I can't find either of them or reach Alison, so can I speak to her?”
My heart began to shrivel at the beginning of Angela's speech and continued to wither as she wound down to an almost whispered halt, fear plain in her voice though I could tell she was desperately trying to hide it.
Alison had been through so much, her mother too, with the Dumont's thrall then with Alison's two breakdowns and suicide attempt. No wonder Angela was afraid.
No wonder I was afraid.
Quaid was on his feet, moving toward me, Erica taking his place with Meira. He squeezed my arm and frowned , sending soothing magic as our power connected.
It was so hard to open my mouth, to say the words I had to say to the woman who was in no shape herself to hear the news she already dreaded. It had been days since I'd seen Alison last, and I hadn't heard from her since. Panic warred with Quaid's attempt to keep me level while I finally spoke.
“I'm sorry, Mrs. Morgan,” I said softly around the lump in my throat, “but Alison isn't here.”
Her wail was heartbreaking. “I knew it, I knew I should never have let her come here alone no matter what Dr. Pattery said, I knew something terrible would happen.”
“Mrs. Morgan. Angela!” I found myself shouting into the phone. “We'll find her. She's probably off shopping or something. Maybe with her new friends.”
“New friends?” Angela's voice was hoarse with tears. “Syd, she didn't make any new friends. You're the only one she has.”
Guilt struck me like sledge hammer, fear feeding it until I had to breathe through my mouth to get enough oxygen. I found myself leaning forward, pressing my free hand into my stomach as a surge of grief and loss tore through me.
I couldn't think like that, worst case scenario. But it was hard, so very hard, not to go there.
“I'm calling the police.” Angela sounded desperate, panicked. I looked up at Erica as I straightened.
“That's a great idea.” I had a sudden image of her standing in the dark foyer of the massive house, alone in the silence. “Did your husband come with you?”
“No.” She choked on the word.
Can you go to her? I threw the thought at Erica who instantly nodded and sprang to her feet as I went on. “My friend Erica is going to join you at the house, okay? You remember her? From the hospital?” I winced. Way to bring up bad memories, Syd. “Until the police come. So you don't have to be alone.”
Erica rushed out the door while Angela gasped around her tears. “Thank you.”
“She's on her way. In the meantime, I'll start looking too. Asking around. We'll find her, I promise.”
I could feel her calming a little as I spoke.
“Yes, of course. Thank you so much, Syd.” She sighed deeply. “I'm just so worried about my little girl.”
I could barely speak past my thickened throat, so it was a good thing she hung up.
Galleytrot pushed Quaid to the side and pressed his big head into my stomach before lifting his gaze to mine. “I'll go look for her.”
I sobbed once, never so grateful to anyone in my entire life. I leaned forward and hugged him, feeling the weight of the earth in his body, the power of the Sidhe rippling over him and into me.
“Thank you.” I pulled away. “Do you need something? With her scent?”
He shook his great head, shaggy fur swinging. “I think I know her well enough by now.” He turned toward the door, gently butting Quaid's hip with his head on the way by. “I'll let you know the moment I find anything.”
The screen door banged shut behind him and suddenly we were alone, Quaid, Meira and I.
And it all hit me.
But I couldn't let it. I just couldn't. I still had more to do.
Quaid hugged me, lips on my ear. “I'll take care of Meira,” he said. “Go talk to your father.”
I'd missed the surge of demon magic, so wrapped up in the stress of the phone call I'd forgotten Sassy was in the basement. But I could feel him now, joined with the power of a second demon, the veil parted for Dad's spirit to cross.
I kissed Quaid gently on the mouth. He pulled me close one last time, lips on my temple before letting me go.
“I figure I have to get used to this,” he said, tone dry, a twist to his lips, dark humor lighting his chocolate eyes. “If I'm going to be married one day to the leader of the most powerful coven around, that is.”
“Better believe it.” I laid one hand on his chest for a moment, felt his heart beat under my touch. “Only I expect to live a long and quiet life, Quaid. So don't get too comfortable with all this disaster.”
He winked and did his best to look disappointed.
Meira was a miserable ball of wide eyes and tears when I went to her. She hugged me and kissed me too.
“I'm okay,” she whispered. “Really. I'm fine with Quaid. Go save Mom.”
A fierceness, a protective instinct I'd only begun to develop, surged around me and then her, a sense of absolute responsibility to my entire coven wrapping me in the family magic.
“Consider it done.” I kissed my sister and I must have done something right because she actually managed to smile. Quaid pulled up Erica's seat and held Meira's hand.
I watched them as they watched me for a moment, before pulling myself away and descending the stairs to tell my father my mother wasn't dead or anything.
At least, not yet.
I so did not just have that thought.
***
Chapter Five
Dad paced the pentagram while Sassy sat just outside it, tail thrashing back and forth, a soft cloud of silver hair floating in the air around him. Dad looked up at me as I descended, hurrying forward to hug me when my feet hit concrete.
I sagged into his arms for a moment, the warmth of his body not quite offsetting the hard edges of his diamond statue, the form of the effigy still present beneath the spirit filling it.
“Syd,” he whispered. “It's going to be okay.”
Was that for me or for him? I pulled away and nodded. “It is, Dad.”
“What were the charges?” He released me and began pacing again. “Do we even know yet?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. Any action like this is supposed to be presented in writing, especially to a coven leader.” I'd been brushing up on my coven law. Premonition? I hated to think so.
Dad shook his head, face reddening in anger. “She's still there at least.” His hand fell over his heart. “They haven't tried to break our connection. But she's under powerful shields if they can keep so much of her from me.” He paused, hesitated. “This is my fault.”
My mind flashed to him lying on the floor, blood pooling under the cut in his hand as my stomach turned over slowly, once.
Oh. Crap.
“The blood magic.” How had I forgotten? “But you were absolved by the coven.”
“But not by the Council.” Sassy sounded as grim as I'd ever heard him. “If someone chose to make issue of it, the Council could step in.”
Celeste. Damn her. I felt my demon stir once again, almost reached down the connection between she and I to show Celeste just how unhappy I was feeling, but held back at the last second. It was, quite possibly, exactly what she wanted me to do and I refused to give her further ammunition against Mom or me.
“This is the D
umonts,” I said. “Plain and simple. If anyone is to blame, Dad, it's them. Besides, you're a demon and you were the practitioner.”
“And me.” Sassy sighed. “We've both brought this on Miriam.”
“Don't you start.” I planted my fists on my hips, scowling at the two of them. “I need your brains sharp, guys.”
Dad nodded. “There's not much I can do from Demonicon as far as the trial goes, but be sure to call on me as a witness when it starts.” He smiled with an expression I had never seen on my father's face before.
I flinched. “You think it will go that far?” I had no idea what to expect from a witch trial, my mind creating a horrible scene involving stakes and fire.
“I do.” Dad shrugged. “If this is the Dumonts, and I have no reason to doubt you, Syd, their goal isn't just to bring this family down. They need to publicly humiliate and reduce your mother.” His blue eyes flickered with amber magic, but now he looked more sad than angry. “They will do whatever they can to diminish your mother to nothing before they destroy her.”
I despised them before, but the more he said the deeper my absolute hatred ran.
“You need to find your grandmother.” Dad scowled at Sassafras. “Ethpeal needs to know what's happening.”
It was my turn to shrug. “Knowing Gram, she's in the thick of things already.” The idea pissed me off. I had no doubt Gram did know in advance and failed to tell me anything in spite of our deep connection. A little warning would have been nice.
“We're forgetting some important players in this.” Sassy turned his amber gaze to me. “Dominic Moromond is now the leader of the Enforcers. Which means his disgusting wife, Batsheva, has wormed her way far enough into the hearts of the Council to have some sway over them.”
“There's one way around this,” Dad said. “I could go get your mother right now.”
For a thrilling heartbeat I pictured it, Dad's power tearing wide the veil, no effigy to contain him, his massive demon presence swooping down to claim my mom like the climax of some bad paranormal romance novel.
