by Patti Larsen
The dream shattered in a million pieces as my naturally cynical mind went to the aftermath. “Nice thinking,” I said, “but there's two problems with that. What about the coven, the family magic?”
He nodded, glum.
“And two,” I tried a crooked smile and succeeded, “Mom would kill you.”
I made him laugh, chuckle really. But it was enough to diffuse the tension in the room.
“Keep me posted at all times.” He paced backward, coming to stand in the middle of the pentagram. “I'll be waiting on the other side of the veil and can be here in a moment.” His anger showed itself then, something stirring. “And I won't be alone.”
Oh dear. Dad and an army of angry demons? Yeah, the Council would never know what hit them.
“It won't come to that.” I hoped, at least. A war between planes would be the very last straw, thank you. I imagined even the magic-dulled folks of Wilding Springs would notice if a horde of demons suddenly appeared in their back yard.
Dad didn't retreat at once. Instead, he looked around the basement with a very sad expression. “All this time I felt useless,” he said. “I wanted my power back so I could be here for you, for your mother. And now, here I am, and I still can't do anything to help.”
I took a step toward him, but too late. Dad's spirit faded quickly, passing beyond the veil, the statue quickly reverting from flesh and blood to sparkling diamond catching the light of the single hanging bulb.
Sassy sighed and rubbed one paw over his eyes. “That went well.”
Not even his snark could make me smile.
Sassy and I made the slow trudge back up the stairs and to the kitchen where Quaid was pouring Meira a glass of soda. They both looked up as we emerged, the silver Persian heading right to my sister. He hopped into her lap, resting his full weight against her as she hugged him and began to stroke his soft fur.
I wasn't surprised he couldn't muster a purr.
I stood there a moment, lost in nothing, not even able to think really, time passing in a blur of empty. Quaid finally moved, coming to my side, his motion jerking me out of my stunned state.
Shock, had to be.
“Sit.” He guided me toward a chair. I almost took it before memory clicked in, a child's puzzle of pieces falling together inside my head. Mom. Pender. Alison. Angela. Erica. Galleytrot.
The Vegas.
I pulled away from him. “I need to go.” I glanced at Meira as Sassy's head swung around, his bright eyes fixing on me, half lidded. “Martin and Louisa want to talk to me.”
Quaid frowned. “Weird, they didn't mention anything to me.” He too glanced at Sassy who nodded. “I'll come with you.”
I hesitated. I really wanted him to come with me, but I didn't want to leave Meira alone.
“It's okay,” she said, voice calm. “Sassy and I can watch the house.”
Monkey. Sassy's power reached me, touched mine. I knew he'd never let anything happen to her, not since the night the vampire Nicholas stole her from us. And now he was at full power, he was even more a force to be reckoned with.
“Okay.” I smiled a little at Quaid. “Thanks.” I blew Meira a kiss which she caught and blew back. “I'll seal the wards so no one can get in.”
She nodded bravely. “We'll be fine.”
I still paused, unreasonable worry not seeming so unreasonable. “I promise we won't be long.”
“Syd.” Meira made a shooing gesture. “Just go already.”
Quaid chuckled softly. “I fear for our kids.”
Now there was a thought to wrap my already stressed out mind around.
I was almost to the door when it swung open and Galleytrot slumped through.
My heart clenched immediately. “Alison?”
He shook his head. “I can't find her.” He chuffed a breath. “And I have no idea why. It's like she's not anywhere.”
That wasn't possible. “Is she being hidden somehow?” The Dumonts and the Chosen had done something magical to hide Sassy's scent when they kidnapped him. Were they somehow involved?
But Galleytrot shook his head. “No, it doesn't feel like that. Maybe I just don't know her scent as well as I thought.” He sounded doubtful.
I ran upstairs, retrieved a shirt of Alison's she'd lent me before rushing back down and handing it to him, shoving it right under his nose. He sighed.
“That's the one I remember.” His voice was quiet, empty of the usual rumble accompanying it, his energy so still I barely felt the earth magic making him what he was.
I leaned forward and pressed my forehead to his, breathing in the scent of spring and approaching rain while a war raged inside me. “I need to come with you,” I whispered, “but I can’t.” My heart clenched as tight as my fist around Alison’s shirt. “There are times I hate being two people.”
He nodded slowly.
There was no question where I belonged. And yet, how could I just abandon Alison when I knew without a doubt she needed me? The next decision I made was so hard I found myself twisting the soft cotton of Alison’s shirt between my hands as if I could wring information from it. “Mom has to come first. And the coven.” The moment the statement was out my hands unclenched, shoulders sagging as the shirt fell limp from my grip, suddenly feeling useless. “But I need to find Alison.”
Galleytrot's tongue swept over my hand, eyes reflecting flickers of red fire as I watched his determination surface. “I'll keep looking, Syd,” he said, “and I won’t stop until I find her. For you.” The big dog spun and ran out again, his magic pulling the door open, the screen once again thudding shut behind him.
I rushed toward the door as he left. This wasn’t right. I could spare an hour, surely I could spare that for my friend. I needed to go with him! But Quaid's hand stopped me, pulled me back.
“Syd,” he whispered. “You made the right choice. Let Galleytrot handle it. The coven needs you.”
I felt them then, the press of them, hovering, waiting to see what I'd do. If I'd fall apart after all, probably. And going after Alison, would it be a sign of weakness at a time I couldn't afford it?
Most likely. But if that was the case, if worrying about my friend was wrong, I didn't want to lead the coven.
Power flickered in my mind, so familiar it was like another part of me opened up.
Gram! I reached for her, desperate, as clingy as the clutching coven members who tried to hang from me. I need you!
No, silly child. You don't. Her voice vibrated with pride mixed with love.
The anger I felt earlier surged. You knew about Mom.
She sighed, but didn't confirm it because she didn't have to.
You do realize there are more important things going on than your revenge agenda? Holy crap, I sounded like Mom.
I do, she sent. But it just so happens my agenda is a part of this. Syd, her magic stroked my mind, the old pathways welcoming her even through my frustration and fear, you need to trust me. As much as I trust you.
Damn her. Gram, please come back.
The work I'm doing behind the scenes of this little charade is important, girl. Her tone was sharper now, as she showed her own irritation. I had an insight flash into the endless maneuverings of my grandmother's agile mind and just how hard she was finding it to stay hidden and stay on her path.
Fine. But you keep me posted from now on. And send Uncle Frank home. He's been looking for you for days. And do it personally. He needs to know you're okay.
She chuckled in my head. Damned fool boy. I will. Be well, sister soul. I'll see you soon.
I wanted to scream, to throw things, but at least I knew she was okay and someone in this mess besides the Dumonts and Moromonds had a plan.
The moment Gram let go I was tackled by several witches needing comfort. They seemed to open a floodgate to the others and I ended up spending the rest of the evening in the basement, channeling the family magic and comforting witches.
Damn, I was forgetting something again. I really had to do something a
bout my short term memory.
***
Chapter Six
I hated waking up without any knowledge of how I made it to bed. Not that it was a common occurrence, but still. I groaned as I rolled over, a spare blanket laid carefully over me, emerging from the covering to find myself still fully clothed from the night before. I rubbed at my bleary eyes, strung thin and more than a little wonky as I struggled for full wakefulness.
It had to have been Quaid. I didn't remember passing out, but I did know he was still in the house. I felt him, our connection pulling my attention immediately to his location. Which happened to be the kitchen.
I slumped to the bathroom, head muzzy and the world wobbling around me. I'd used up a lot of focus the night before, spending what felt like endless hours and piles of magic on the witches who clung to my power, soothing them one after another until, hopefully, I managed to finish the job.
I say hopefully because I honestly didn't remember.
The hot shower wasn't doing me any good. With a ruthless twist of my wrist, I let icy cold replace it. My skin was red and I was shuddering by the time I stepped out, scalp tingling from the bitter cold, but I felt much more awake and aware.
The wet end of my ponytail clung to my neck as I made my way down the stairs to the hall and the kitchen at its end. I hugged myself through my T-shirt, a huge yawn sending popping sounds through my head and bringing tears to my eyes. I wiped at them absently as I shuffled across the thin metal divider separating the hall carpet from the kitchen tiles. I glanced up and immediately stopped moving.
Quaid casually flipped what looked and smelled like the best pancakes on the planet while Meira stood beside him, her dish held out for her serving. He grinned and winked at her, tall body slouched sideways, wide shoulders moving in the most delightful way under the thin black fabric of his shirt as he lifted the frying pan and expertly tossed the pancake one more time, letting it fall perfectly in the center of my sister's plate.
I found myself grinning too despite my weariness, feeling my heart at last swell and wake. Quaid glanced up, saw me watching, let a slow, delicious smile spread over his handsome face while his energy reached out and wrapped me up ever so gently.
Meira dropped her plate on the table and came running, hugging me with her arms where Quaid used his magic.
I hugged her back, resting my chin on her hair, realizing just how tall she was getting. “Hey, Meems. Save me any pancakes?”
She pulled away, grinning. Her lips looked sticky, cheeks flushed even through the red of her demon tone from the influence of too much sugar. I rolled my eyes at Quaid while she spoke.
“I'm on my fifth.” She giggled and turned away, kneeling on her chair to smear a huge wad of butter on the golden cake before smothering it in syrup and strawberry jam.
I shuddered and looked away, raising an eyebrow as I approached the stove.
Way to put my sister in a sugar coma.
His chocolate eyes sparkled. How had I never noticed they had the barest flecks of lighter brown in them? I saw it as I drew closer, much closer, one of his arms going around my waist, his free hand lifting to cup my cheek.
You sleep okay? His concern was a soft and loving thing, sliding over my body with a thrill of his touch, like electricity crackling across every inch of my skin. I leaned into him, resting my forehead on his shoulder, breathing deeply of his scent, a mix of something spicy and rich and the laundry detergent he'd used on his clothes. My lips found the hollow of his throat, pressed to the soft pulse under his skin. I felt him tense a little even as his magic thrummed in happiness.
My demon purred, sliding out threads of amber magic to mingle with the warmly caramel feel of him. I pulled away as he bent his head, his mouth brushing across my temple.
Not in front of my sister. Hell no. And as much as it felt amazing, he was too distracting.
Quaid grimaced, but shrugged and let me go, the feeling of his power untouched by anger and full of agreement. We just couldn't catch a break on our timing.
“I'm heading home after I make you some pancakes.” He turned and measured out a dollop of creamy white batter, the sizzle of the pan releasing a light cloud of smoke and steam. “I'll talk to Louisa and Martin and see if I can find out what they wanted last night.”
I smacked myself in the forehead with the open palm of my hand. Quaid's smile was full of amusement, but he gently touched the spot with his fingertips before bending to kiss the stinging flesh.
“Gently,” he said.
I rolled my eyes, wondering where this new and improved Quaid had come from. I was so used to his snarky, sarcastic and dark humor, it felt odd to have him so attentive. Not that I minded.
“I forgot all about them.” I groaned softly, leaning against the counter, feeling the bite of a drawer handle on my hip. “I'll just go now.”
He was already flipping my pancake as my stomach let out a very unhappy growl.
“It's cool.” He slid the delicious steaming mass onto a plate and handed it to me. “I'll take care of it.”
I knew I should have gone anyway, but something about having him there for me, the fact he had my back like no one else, lulled me into accepting his plan. I sat at the table, devoured the sticky mess once I'd covered mine in my own slop of toppings, grinning with a thumbs up as he waved and left.
Is this the life I had to look forward to? With Quaid? As I licked the syrup from my fingers, I found myself smiling at the idea.
Maybe things would work out after all.
I realized then I shouldn't just let him take the fall for my mistake. Not that the Vegas would be angry with him or even me for that matter. But I owed it to them to apologize. I reached for Meira's plate as I stood. She sat back in her seat, groaning.
“Can Quaid make us breakfast every morning?” Her amber eyes smiled at me as she let out a less-than-delicate burp I'm sure they heard down the block.
I wrinkled my nose as I dumped the plates in the sink for later. He'd cleaned up after himself even, the measuring cup he'd used rinsed out, frying pan neatly stacked on the rack. I instantly suspected magic. There was no way he was a neat freak.
There was so much about Quaid I didn't know.
Meira drifted off, holding her very full belly. I heard her climb the stairs and snickered, assuming she was going back to bed to sleep off her binge. I finished tidying up before taking a seat at the table once again and reaching for the Vegas.
Louisa, Martin. I felt them both embrace my mind. I was careful to keep my communication tight, though I could feel their fear despite my caution. I’m sorry I didn’t make it over last night. Quaid is on his way home. Can you tell him what you need to share with me?
Their mutual hesitation worried me more than their answer.
Dear Syd, Louisa sent, we really need to speak with you directly.
Don’t take this the wrong way, Martin cut in. We love Quaid as though he were our child. But this business… when he trailed off I felt his fear increase, his anxiety. They were worried about the coven, but worse than that.
They were afraid for my life.
I’ll be right over. I was on my feet, hurrying to the door, even as I finished the thought and severed the connection.
I heard tires on the asphalt outside, the hum of an engine turning off. I reached the door just as it opened in my face, Erica walking through without knocking.
She let out a little shriek, clutching at her chest. “Syd, you scared the crap out of me.”
I know I should have been more patient, but she just waltzed into my house and I scared her? “Maybe if you knocked.”
Ouch. I could see I hurt her, deeply. I didn't mean it that way and was about to apologize when she scowled at me.
“I'm here for a reason.” Her features flinched, alternating between guilt and anger. This wasn't going to be a happy conversation. “And I've never had to knock on your door in my life.”
“Angela?” Hopefully Erica had managed to calm Alison's mo
ther down.
Erica's dark expression softened a little. “The police are investigating. Alison's father is on his way from New York. I had one of the family come in to watch her until she can hire a new housekeeper.”
That much was taken care of at least. I nodded my thanks.
Erica was nowhere near done. “I'm not here because of the Morgans.”
I sighed and turned my back on her, going to sit down because this was a sit-down kind of discussion, I could tell. “What's up?”
She didn't join me, just stood there in the doorway, hands clenched at her sides. “We need to talk about the coven.”
I pointed at the chair next to me, the one Meira just vacated. “Have a seat.”
She shook her head, blonde hair swinging. I missed her short, shiny bob and wondered why she'd grown it out. “I'm not here to chat or catch up,” she said. “I'm here to take over.”
I blinked at her. Man, I was really that tired. I thought she said—
“Your mother had no intention of leaving you in charge.” Erica began to pace the kitchen, arms now wrapped around herself, body tense. “While I know she's done so before, it was without knowledge of what was to come.” She turned on me then, face set. “Miriam granted you leader status because she was sure nothing would happen. But this time is different, Syd. This time something horrible is going on. And, quite frankly, I don't think you're prepared for it.”
I couldn't speak. Oddly, even my demon and Shaylee were both silent. Like none of us could manage to put together coherent thought. I'd had my run-ins with Erica. But this was unbelievable.
“You can't handle Celeste.” Erica's arms dropped, fear flickering across her face. “And the coven needs strong leadership if we're to survive this. Syd, there is a very good chance your mother won't...” she looked away, out the window, voice thick as she went on, “won't survive this. But it's my responsibility to make sure the family does.” She turned back to me, tears standing in her eyes. “I don't want to fight you over this, but you need to give up control of the family magic to me.”
