by Patti Larsen
It wasn't good. Despite the testimony they'd heard, it was clear they were leaning the wrong way in our little fight. Not that I was surprised now that I knew Batsheva was leaning on them, but I was disappointed in the pack of sheep I'd spent the last two and a half days with.
Baa.
Home was a distant dream I stumbled into as the sun rose. Quaid guided me to bed and left me there, carrying my out-cold sister to her room before curling up next to me, my head tucked into his shoulder, where we both fell into death-like sleep.
When I woke, I was alone, the scent of food making my mouth water. The time on the clock made me groan. Only 10am. We had until one in the afternoon to return. At least the Council had been as tired as the rest of us and agreed to a later verdict and sentencing.
Yeah, I was expecting a sentencing. Said a lot for my state of mind.
Quaid was serving up bacon and eggs while Meira made toast when I descended, yawning and stretching, to the kitchen. Meira giggled when he kissed me, laughing louder when he dropped the pan and grabbed her for a tickle. She was so grown up in a lot of ways, our lifestyle forcing her to age beyond her years. But she was still a little girl, too, almost eleven, I had to remind myself. And having a cute guy give you attention could make the most mature Hayle blush.
Case in point. When he returned to his greeting, lips warm on mine, arms pulling me close, there was a definite reddening to my cheeks, though my flush had very little to do with little girl thoughts.
Naughty, naughty, Syd.
You two are like a pair of old married people. Gram's laughter cackled in my head. Tell that boy of yours not to burn the bacon.
His eyes widened and he pulled away, heading for the stove with a soft curse on his lips while Gram cackled again and Meira giggled. I was prepared when the kitchen door opened and she walked through.
Meira squealed in excitement and ran to Gram, hugging her so hard the old lady whuffed out a breath and almost lost her balance.
“Gram!” Meira leaned back, smiling up at our grandmother like she was the best present ever. “I missed you so much.”
Gram's faded blue eyes watered as she hugged Meira to her, black curls tucked under her chin.
“I wish I had been here for you, dumpling.” She kissed the top of Meira's head. “But you've managed all right without me.”
“Of course,” Meira said, shoulders back chin up. “I'm a Hayle.”
Gram chuckled, but when her eyes met mine they were sad. “Indeed you are, cookie.” Her gaze fell on Quaid who was filling an extra plate with food. He offered it to her, expression bland.
“Morning, Gram,” he said. “Made your favorite.”
She grinned at him and skipped over, though she ignored the plate. Instead, she grasped his free hand and pulled him near her. I felt her energy dive inside him without his permission and had to fight my demon off. She wanted to protect him, her fury catching me off guard.
But her worry was misplaced. Quaid didn't fight, in fact, from how wide open he was I knew he'd probably expected something like this. I took a step toward them, the connection between us as strong as ever. I let Gram feel me there, inside him, but she ignored me, intent on her examination.
Her power retreated in a flash as she reached up and pinched his cheek.
“She's mine,” she said. “I had to be sure.”
“I know,” he said. “Your breakfast is getting cold.”
Another cackle while she did a little dance on the tiles. I glanced down at the fuzzy blue socks and frowned.
“How did you get here?”
She just winked at me.
Bratski.
We ate breakfast, did our best to laugh, joke, enjoy our time together. I refused to go into this last day with a heavy heart. We were doing everything we could to save Mom. And, at the very least, we were about to make Batsheva and Odette's lives more than a little uncomfortable.
I just hoped it would be worth Mom's life.
Breakfast was weird for me, though. I kept glancing at Gram as if she’d suddenly implode from the four ghost echoes inside her. But she seemed to have recovered from the calling the night before so I did my best not to worry.
I dressed carefully for the last time, and when I emerged from Mom's room, I noticed Meira had done the same, the two of us in nearly matching black skirts and dark blue blouses. Hand in hand we descended to the kitchen and into the limousine with Charlotte beside us.
Sassafras eyed Gram from his place in the car, amber gaze simmering. “Nice of you to join us, Ethpeal.”
She winked and leaned forward to tug on his tail. “You ain't seen nothing yet, cat.”
He hummed an unhappy growl, ears laying almost flat sideways as his whiskers drooped. “I hope you're right.”
I slid to him and stroked his fur. “Don't worry,” I said, meaning every word. “I won't let anything happen to Mom.” The understanding came to me in a surge, anger mixed with determination. An image of me wiping out resistance while Dad swept in and took Mom away crossed my mind.
Gram was grinning when I looked up. “Neither will I.” Such ferocity. But it made me grin back.
I definitely felt better. Like it or not, I wasn’t going to allow Mom to follow the law. When it was all over, she'd just have to ground me or something.
When we reached the gate at the bottom of the long drive, Gram leaned forward and tapped on the glass. The car pulled over, Charlotte opening the door for her. She kissed me quickly on the cheek, then Meira, before sliding out.
“Wait for my signal,” she said before slamming the door. I tried to look out, to see where she went, but the heavily tinted windows made it hard to tell. All I knew was she had gone.
At least I didn't have to worry about her. She could totally take care of herself.
I could tell by the way the other witches avoided our entourage decisions had been made in our absence. I caught sight of Celeste and James with a small group of witches from our family, standing off to one side. With the exception of the horse-faced woman, none of them would look at me.
That was all right. They'd be covenless when this was over.
I took my seat, eyes locked on Quaid, Meira and Sassafras where they sat across from me in the gallery. I settled, actually calm now my decision to rescue Mom whatever it took, was made, the most poised and relaxed I'd felt since this whole thing started. I didn't do subtle very well. But my demon and I, my Sidhe princess along for the ride, could do show stopping.
Hell, yeah.
The first surprise of the day came when, just as the door was swinging closed, a blast of power knocked it wide open again, sending it booming back against the wall. Everyone jumped, a few squeaks and squeals of fright escaping, all eyes turning toward the open door. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to hide my grin when Gram casually sauntered through.
“Sorry I'm late,” she said.
Shocked whispers followed the total silence she'd won. The secretary huffed and spun on Batsheva who scowled at Gram.
“You aren't on the list.” The Council leader sat back in her seat, pink painted lips pursed.
“Oh, but I am.” Gram gestured at the secretary. “Check your parchment, toad.”
He spluttered at her, but did as he was told. Eyes huge, he turned to the Council.
“Ethpeal Hayle is on the list,” he said in total shock. “Though I swear to you I didn't let her pass.”
Gram chuckled. “A likely story,” she said. “And why ever would you be told not to allow me in here?”
“With excellent reason.” Odette surged to her feet. “I demand this foul murderer be removed at once.”
Pin drop moment.
Gram stuck her tongue out at Odette. “Come and get me.”
Please. Oh please.
But no. Odette turned coward, like usual, and sank into her seat. Batsheva rolled her eyes and gestured at the gallery. “Sit.”
Gram did a little mock curtsey before making a pain in the butt of herself, clim
bing over witches in the gallery to take a place on the far end of the row, one she could have reached without bothering a soul. Her cackling laughter almost did me in.
Batsheva's scowl deepened the longer it took until Gram finally huffed her way down into the chair and crossed her skinny legs, blue socks showing as she bobbed her foot and grinned around at everyone.
“Some fun, what?” She jabbed the witch beside her in the ribs with one bony elbow and laughed out loud.
I loved my grandmother.
“If we could have order.” Batsheva glared until Gram faked zipping her lips, locking them up tight and taking out the key to tuck into her pocket. The whole procedure took another ten or so seconds, time in which the entire gallery used to titter and giggle among themselves.
Batsheva finally rolled her eyes. “Bring in the accused so we can get this over with.”
Mom's entry was met with silence and averted eyes. Could they be any more obvious?
Her smile for me was the sunrise on a beautiful morning and once again I felt a surge of need to act, to pull her out of there now. But I owed it to her to try it her way first.
Gram's way.
At least if our family went down in flames we could take the Dumonts and the Moromonds with us.
“Miriam Hayle,” the secretary said in his annoying voice, reading from a piece of parchment, “the Council has deliberated carefully the facts of the case, heard testimony both against you and in your favor. They have come to verdicts on all counts. Will you honor their word as law?”
“I will,” Mom said, voice ringing, without hesitation or fear.
I found myself staring at Gram. Now or never, right?
She ignored me.
Gram. The echoes. We need to do something.
Her lips twitched in annoyance, but again she didn't answer.
It was going to be too late. What was she waiting for? Once they pronounced Mom's guilt we were screwed.
I jabbed Gram with energy while the secretary opened his mouth to speak, but she shoved me away, grinning evilly at Odette who squirmed in her seat under the attention.
This was it. I had to do something, even if Gram wouldn't.
Girl, Gram sent with so much glee I almost laughed despite my tension, now!
I was on my feet the moment she contacted me, the scraping of my chair legs against the floor loud enough to draw everyone's attention. The little secretary scowled at me.
“Yes?”
I met Mom's gaze as I spoke.
“There is more to be revealed in this case,” I said, voice carrying. “And we ask the Council hear the remainder of our evidence before the verdict is read.”
“This is highly irregular.” Benita seemed to be firmly back in Odette's camp, her thin face pinched in displeasure. “You had your chance to defend Miriam Hayle. Her time is up.”
But was that hesitation in the eyes of the Council? Did they finally understand what they were doing, where this was going and that this event was their responsibility?
“This is clearly just a delay tactic,” Odette said while she scowled at Gram. “An attempt by the Hayle family to stop justice being done.”
I barked a laugh, unable to help myself. Odette turned toward me, eyes wide.
“Justice,” I snarled at her. “Like you have a freaking clue.” I turned back to the Council. “Please, this new evidence has just come to light.”
Gram’s turn. She climbed to her feet, no longer the giggling, silly old witch two screws shy of a do-it-yourself bookcase.
“I have evidence,” she said while Pender came forward from the back, one of the Enforcers standing guard, sweeping his hood back with one hand to come and stand next to her.
“And I have evidence,” he said. “As unusual as these circumstances are, it's not the Hayle coven asking.”
Dominic surged forward, face a mask of fury. “Stand down,” he barked.
“I cannot,” Pender said. “By the oath of the Order of Enforcers, I would speak to the Council in the name of Miriam Hayle.”
He wavered a little, looking pale as the assembled witches gasped and chattered.
“As do I,” Gram said. “Though it has been decades since I retired from the cloak of the Order, I too invoke my right as a member of the Enforcers to speak on her behalf.”
Before Batsheva could argue or shoot them down, Erica spoke up.
“The Council will hear from you, Enforcers,” she said.
“No,” Gram said, “not from us.” She stepped aside as Pender's body shook. “We call on Martin and Louisa Vega.”
And to the gasps of horror from everyone in the room, Pender's mouth gaped open and he let the soul echoes out.
***
Chapter Thirty Nine
The Vegas unfolded, their ghostly shapes reforming to hang in the air before the sagging Enforcer. It took a moment after their appearance for the uproar to start.
One voice spoke the loudest. “Necromancy is illegal!” Odette shook in her disguise, the glamour hiding her true form shuddering around her as if threatening to collapse at any moment. I'd seen what she really looked like and didn't want to repeat the memory, thanks.
Mom's eyes were full of sorrow as they met mind and I wondered if Gram had gone too far. The guilt on my mother's face was so powerful I wished I didn't have to look.
“I am an Enforcer!” Pender's voice boomed through the room, silencing opposition. His shoulders straightened, face settling into firm resolution despite his pale skin. “It is within my right to call forth the dead and my job to uncover the truth through any means necessary.”
“Not if you're no longer in the Order.” Dominic surged forward, tried to grasp Pender's arm, but the tall, thin man shook him off with a frown so disapproving the false leader backed off.
“I am an Enforcer for life,” he said again, quietly, with great dignity. “And no matter what you've done to my family, to the Order to which I’ve committed everything, I will carry the honor and pride for the rest of my life.”
Uncomfortable silence anyone? Was that a shifting in the magic I felt? Because I felt it, now I knew it was there, the insidious thread of Batsheva's power woven through the entire room, whispering in ears, pulling at loyalties, holding them all in thrall.
“We acknowledge the rights of Enforcer Tremere,” Erica said. Since when did she take over the Council? It seemed I'd underestimated her. Either that or she'd found her niche at last. Though from the half-vacant look the rest of the Council members wore, I supposed it was her or no one. Batsheva’s power had to be affecting them as well. But not me. Or Erica. Or anyone else in my family, it seemed. Was the Hayle family magic somehow keeping us safe?
Made sense to me. Especially after what Batsheva tried last time, stealing it from Mom the way she did. No way would it let her influence it again. I wondered if she’d taken that into consideration when she’d set up her little plan. Surely having to struggle with our power wasn’t making her job any easier.
No time for further speculation. Erica gestured at Pender. “We will hear the testimony of Martin and Louisa Vega.”
“What could they possibly add to this?” Odette was still trying, bless her evil old heart.
“I would hear them as well,” Violet said, her little face tight with anger, but not at me or Gram or even Pender. She glared at Odette like she wanted to bite her. “Do shut up for once, Odette, won't you?”
So not all sheep, not quite.
“I too would hear them,” Tallah said without looking at me.
“And I,” Irene nodded. “Speak, echoes of those who were. What testimony do you have for us?”
Martin and Louisa remained silent until the Rhodes coven leader spoke up.
“Treachery,” Louisa said, voice vibrating hollow, but full of sadness. “The Hayle coven has been betrayed from within.”
I was happy to be sitting where I was, with a full view of Celeste. Just so I could see the look on her face and fix her flicker of fear in my mind. F
or later. When I hunted her down and killed her with my bare hands.
My demon immediately offered a variety of scenarios for my viewing pleasure while the Vega's ghosts went on.
“We have been faithful members of the Hayle family,” Martin said, “since our coven was destroyed by the greed of our former leader, Naudia Purity.” Another shocker to drop my jaw. The Vegas? The sweet, kind hearted and darling couple who treated me like the daughter they never had?
I couldn't believe it.
“We were approached by Celeste Oberman on several occasions,” Louisa went on. “It was her intent to act against Miriam Hayle and sabotage the coven so she could take control of the family magic and return our old coven to power.”
Celeste paled to white, throat working while James leaned in, whispering frantically in her ear. She shook him off, eyes darting toward the sealed exit.
Oh no you don't.
“We adore our coven,” Martin's ghost said, “and would never do such a thing. Miriam Hayle welcomed us into her family after our leader betrayed us and has never judged or asked of us any more than our love and loyalty.” He smiled at Mom who smiled back, tears tracking down her cheeks. “Don't mourn us, dear Miriam. It's not your fault we died.”
“This is foolishness,” Odette snapped. “What does it have to do with the charges at hand?”
“Goes to the reliability of all of the charges, Council,” Pender said. “If there were those within the coven working against Miriam Hayle, it is likely the majority of what she's been charged with is a fabrication of those betrayers.”
No one moved as Batsheva practically vibrated with frustration. “Fine, whatever,” she snapped.
Still relying on her power to control them, was she? I felt a surge in the ropes of coercion she'd built and saw the witches sway as one.
Not so subtle anymore. Maybe she could be forced to show her hand after all.
The Vegas weren't done. “That same witch who spoke against our leader has much to answer for.” Louisa turned and glared at Celeste. “We once thought of you as our sister. Until you poisoned others against our family. And when that wasn't enough for you, when we refused to support you, you had us killed.”
