by Patti Larsen
I could have sank into despair, but felt a twinge of temper spark and seized on it, my old friend, my faithful companion and protector of my heart. Better anger than grief.
Always.
“I wasn't aware it was any of your business.” Crackle. Pop. Damn it.
He looked up, no anger, just the same agitation, deep and swirling, feeding his magic, his sorrow.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.
Choke. “So am I,” I said, anger falling away. Not like I could stay mad at him, considering how I felt.
How neither of us thought we had a choice.
Our gazes locked, held. For a long moment we stood there, just staring at each other, so many words unsaid, so much love held, trapped, excruciating between us. My yearning grew, but my feet remained anchored by the knowledge he wasn't here to tell me he'd changed his mind.
He was here to say goodbye.
Quaid groaned softly, power surging around me again and closed the gap between us in a rush. His mouth felt hot, his breath in my lungs and I clung to him, to the burning kiss and the hardness of his body.
His hands curled into my hair, pulling me closer, deeper, as I lifted myself from the ground, wrapping my legs around his waist, hugging him with my entire body, the pressure of his need tight against my own.
I felt him moving, didn't care where this led us, as long as my bed was our destination.
As he climbed the stairs, panting over my lips, hands pulling at my clothing, I unwound my heart and power and welcomed him home, the door to my room closing softly behind us.
***
Dark eyes studied me, shining waves of hair hanging over my hand. I tried a smile as the morning sun lit his beautiful eyes even as my lower lip trembled.
Quaid kissed me, first my lips, then my forehead, pulling me closer until it seemed his body was mine. I trembled against him for a moment until my sadness passed. When he finally released me, we both smiled this time.
Soft. Sweet. Delicious.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too.” I kissed him, tried to believe this wouldn't be over soon. Let myself believe Quaid and I were together. Forever. “Breakfast?”
He stretched out his long body, the muscles in his chest rippling, pentagram tattoo dancing on his tanned skin. When his chocolate eyes met mine, dark with passion, I felt my pulse increase.
“I'm starving,” he said.
And devoured me.
***
I loved how he didn't flinch from the heat of the shower, though I didn't have the ability to really feel it anymore. When we finally descended to the kitchen, his fingers wound through mine, I actually started to believe it. Not just imagining, but believing Quaid made his own choice.
And now mine was simple.
The shocked look on Shenka's face flashed quickly away as she smiled and welcomed Quaid, but I could tell from the tilt of her head and the questioning look she gave me behind his back she was as surprised by this turn of events as I was.
Sassafras's tail thrashed against the table-top as he glared at our visitor with flashing amber eyes.
“Quaid,” he growled.
“Sassafras.” Quaid didn't try to touch the demon cat, just nodded gravely to him as though understanding exactly what my furry protector was thinking.
What I started thinking when reality hit.
Was he here to stay, or to break my heart again?
Demetrius sat at the end of the table, scooping in a fork full of scrambled eggs. His big, blue eyes smiled at Quaid as he waved. But it was Gram's reaction that caught everyone's attention.
She lurched to her feet, face twisted in fury, frail body shaking. My grandmother jabbed one sharp-nailed finger at the Enforcer trainee and snarled like a caged animal.
“How dare you!” She lunged at him, pushing against his broad chest, so weak now she didn't budge him even a little as he gently grasped her hands to stop her from pounding on his broad chest. “Betrayer of your heart, betrayer of your order!” She pulled free, staggering, almost falling as Shenka flew to save her.
Gram pushed my second away, wavering as she glared at Quaid, wiping her mouth with the back of one wrinkled hand.
“Get out,” she hissed. “And never come back.”
“Gram.” I didn't mean to be so harsh. I really didn't. I loved my grandmother, knew how much pain she had to be feeling.
She turned on me, then, pounding her thighs with her fists as she shrieked a curse. “What were you thinking?” Gram shook her head with so much violence she almost fell over again, swatting at Shenka who continued to try to help. “What were you thinking, you stupid, stupid girl?” Gram's face fell, collapsed, tears rising in her faded blue eyes, coursing down the deep creases in her skin as she began to sob.
Demetrius rose slowly, calmly, and took Gram's hand. She didn't seem to notice as he patted her shoulder gently before turning to me. I could tell from the lucidity in his gaze he'd come back to us as he sometimes did, and wondered why he'd managed at this moment. Yes, I'd forgiven him the things he'd done to me, knowing now he was brainwashed and tortured by the Brotherhood. But I'd never really considered him compassionate.
Until now.
“Forgive her,” Demetrius said with a small, apologetic smile for Quaid. “Ethie just needs to rest.”
I stood frozen, wanting to reach out to her, knowing I'd be rejected as Demetrius slowly led my sobbing grandmother from the room, leaving us all in heavy silence.
My happy hope shattered into dust.
“I shouldn't have come.” Quaid turned, headed for the back door. I went after him immediately to the sound of Sassafras sighing. I caught the love of my life as he strode in long, thudding strides out the back door and to the yard.
The thrum of the Wild Hunt, its sleeping magic stirred by the disturbance in our power, fell still as Shaylee soothed the ride back to sleep.
I wished I was so easy to calm.
“Why did you come here last night?” I jerked Quaid around to face me, fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm.
I had to ask. And yet, I didn't want to know the answer.
Coward.
Quaid spun toward me, mouth twitching, jaw working, his power bubbling with frustration and anger and grief until he shook his head.
“I don't know,” he said. “I wanted to stay away, Syd.” Quaid's voice rumbled through me, his words hurting worse than any blow. “I tried so hard. But I heard the Council was here, that you're being forced to choose and I just couldn't...” He turned from me, a curse bursting from his lips. “I don't know!”
My magic flowed around him as I pulled him back to me. Quaid finally met my eyes, body tilting toward me as I did my best to force myself into quiet.
“It's not your fault,” I said. “It's destiny.”
He didn't answer, just stood there, lost. As lost as I felt.
“I will always love you,” I said. “I have no choice. Just like I know you love me and will forever.” That much was true. Absolutely true, the magic inside us confirming my words. “But love can't keep us happy, can it?” He flinched. “Not if one of us feels trapped.” Another twitch from his broad shoulders. “Not if it means sacrificing what you really want.”
Quaid's hands lifted, as though to grasp onto me. But he didn't try, just stood there, heart and soul in his eyes.
“Syd,” he whispered. “I don't want to hurt you. I want to stay.”
Hope bloomed anew, found a small, fluttering home inside.
“I'm here,” I said. “And we have time.” We didn't, I knew that, now. The Council would be on my back, pushing hard from here on in. “If you ask me to wait, I'll find a way.”
I hated the bond for making me weak. Any other guy, he'd be kicked to the curb long ago. But Quaid, our fate, our power... I meant every word.
He finally shook his head, hair swinging as he relaxed, came to me, hugged me. I savored the heat of his skin, the scent and touch of his body, the deliciousness of his power even a
s I felt him pull away again.
He left without a word as I watched him go and wished there was something I could do to change his mind.
And mine.
***
Chapter Five
I almost ran into Shenka on my way back inside as she emerged from Gram's room, Demetrius behind her.
The sad looks on their faces told me my grandmother wasn't taking Quaid's departure any better than his arrival.
“She'll be fine,” Shenka said.
“No,” Demetrius's lucid moment had gone, his small body doing a spinning jig, reminding me of Gram at her worst. “She's not. Not, snot, lotta good you'll do in there.” He danced away, humming to himself, listing off rhyming words as he went.
I paused, eyes locked on my second, only then remembering our late-night visitor. “Can we talk after?”
She sighed, nodded. “I don’t have any secrets from you,” she said.
I hugged her before gently moving Shenka aside. “I know,” I said. “Thank you for not giving me a hard time this morning.”
Her lopsided grin tore down the last of my worry about last night. “And thanks for not chasing me down and accusing me of betraying the family to my own sister.”
Eep. Did she guess I’d had those concerns?
I laid one hand on Gram’s door. “I'll handle this first,” I said. “Go make sure Demetrius doesn't freak out the neighbors. And then we’ll talk.”
She bobbed a nod before hugging me so hard it hurt. Didn't care. I hugged her back.
“Damn Quaid,” she whispered in my ear before fleeing toward the kitchen.
Sigh.
I found Gram sitting on the floor next to her bed, knees drawn up to her chest. Her thin nightgown had risen to expose the mottled skin of her calves, her narrow ankles lined with veins, skinny feet topped with jagged nails. No fuzzy socks. She'd stopped wearing them, since Ameline.
So much had changed with her since Ameline.
I sat next to her, mimicking her position, resting my chin on my knees.
“I could use some help,” I said.
Gram grunted, turned sideways away from me. “Figure it out yourself,” she said. Sniped, really, a bitter old bat instead of the crusty woman I loved. “You’re so smart, aren’t you? Sleeping with one while another loves you and a third wants your power.” She mumbled something I missed before ending with, “self-important brat.”
Snarl. “That’s so not fair,” I said, doing my best to hold my temper. “And you know it.”
“Fair doesn’t live here,” she snapped. “Hasn’t ever.” Her white hair trembled around her in a soft fluff. “Not ever.”
“I’d think you’d understand how I feel.” No whining, Syd. “That you’d want what was best for the coven.” Better.
Gram twitched. “To hell with the coven,” she said. “And to hell with you.”
Gasp. Tears bloomed in my eyes, the edges of my soul crumbling as I fought to keep from hugging her and begging her to come back to me. Even when she was crazy, lost in the darkness of her insanity, she was always bright, sharp. Snarky, yes. But cruel and angry?
This wasn’t my grandmother anymore.
I don’t know what made her suddenly relent. Maybe she finally heard what she’d said to me, processed it through her own pain. Because she turned back toward me with a sigh, shoulders slumping.
“She told me, you know.” Gram's voice came out harsh, rasping sandpaper anger and sorrow as deep as mine. “About Ivan.”
It took me a moment to make the connection through my grief of wanting my grandmother back.
She? Told her what?
And then it hit me, a ton of bricks in the face. Guilt slammed into me right after.
“I'm sorry, Gram,” I said, thinking of the maji chamber under the vampire mansion. Of Ameline and Iepa, of the dark maji guide, Trinol, and the story they told us.
Of Ameline's heritage.
“He was her grandfather.” Gram breathed the last word, as though still struggling to believe it. “Ivan and Odette...” She choked, coughed softly. Stared at the floor. “They had a daughter.”
I didn't say anything, could barely breathe, knew if I tried to speak I'd sob instead. I'd never been able to uncover what happened the day Gram was attacked, when Ameline stole her power. I was off chasing Alison, trying to stop her after she stole the tainted vampire essence from me. She was the reason I left Ameline with Shenka and Gram and Charlotte. My second and werefriend had both been knocked out early in the fight, before the Enforcers Ameline killed even showed up.
It was my fault Gram lost her magic. No blaming Alison.
My fault alone.
Gram looked up, met my eyes, hers dull and empty. “I tried to fight her,” she said. “The moment you left to hunt Alison, Ameline tried to leave.” Gram's voice wavered, thin and soft. “Shenka chased her, we all did. I thought that Benoit bitch killed Charlotte.” She ran one hand over her face, wrinkles sagging as she seemed to collapse in on herself. “When Shenka fell, I called the Enforcers.” She shuddered. “I held her, fought her. I stood against her.” No pride, not even a glimmer of satisfaction. “I know they could have captured her, if I'd only held my ground.”
Against Ameline? Gram was strong—had been—but she didn't stand a chance.
Did she? Maybe I underestimated my grandmother. After all, she'd been an Enforcer once.
“I think she knew she was about to lose.” Gram snuffled, wiped her nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “So she told me.”
I saw the last of Gram's light leave her just before she turned from me for the second time and pressed her cheek to her knees, only the back of her head visible, white hair thin and wavering.
“She told me about Ivan,” Gram whispered, “and I fell.”
Oh, Gram.
I heard her crying, saw her shoulders shake. But when I tried to comfort her, she shrugged off my hands, my magic.
“I always knew he betrayed the coven,” she said with so much bitterness I worried for her state of mind. “But I believed him. I believed he never betrayed me.”
I couldn't help the aching sob that escaped, but Gram just seemed to grow calm.
“She knew what to do,” she said. “That nasty piece of work. She knew how to break me, and I let her.” Gram sighed. “I gave up so much over the years. Everything I ever wanted. Fought so hard to be worthy, to make amends for my mother, my grandmother. To keep my family safe.” Gram sagged over on her side, curling up in a sunbeam. “All for what? For nothing, in the end.” Another sigh. “I just don't feel like fighting anymore.”
“Gram.” My hands fluttered at my sides.
“So do what you want,” she said. “Make your damned choice already. But don’t forget, whatever you do, it’s always going to end badly.”
No matter what I did, no matter how I pleaded, Gram fell silent and refused to speak to me after that.
I left her, still in a ball of emptiness, now tucked onto her bed under a quilt, unable to stand her blankness any longer.
***
Chapter Six
I wanted to go to my room and climb under the covers. To hide from the pain I felt, the slow and unrelenting crushing of my heart. To push aside the promise I’d made to sit down and talk to Shenka when I was done with Gram. But as I paused at the bottom of the stairs, I felt someone cross the wards before hearing the sound of knocking on the kitchen door.
Retreat still sounded like the best plan. Shenka was there to pick up the slack and even if it was Tallah all over again, I knew my second had it handled despite my fears the night before. But I needed the distraction, longed for something to break the heavy weight of grief I carried. And so, despite myself and my desire to escape into solitude, I found my feet carrying me down the hall and into the sunlit kitchen.
Shenka turned to meet my eyes, hers hooded in dislike just as I shifted my gaze from her to the open door. And the young woman standing on the other side.
Mia Dumont's wavering smile
almost did me in. That, paired with her tears and the soft cry of desperation she uttered was surely aimed to crush my already fragile hold on my empathy.
I went to her, embraced her as she shook in my arms, guided her inside and to a chair at the table. Avoiding Shenka's glares of irritation, I held Mia's hands as she pulled herself under control. She smiled again through lashes thick with mascara, eyeliner forming twin rivers of dark pigment down her pale cheeks.
“Oh, Syd,” she said. “I'm sorry. So silly of me. It's just so nice to see you.”
I turned to Shenka who tossed a box of tissues at me. It thudded into my chest, a dash of energy behind it. Okay, I knew my second didn't like Mia, but she never told me why.
And now really wasn't the time.
Considering Mia once hated my guts and blamed me for the loss of her family magic to Andre, tried to have me burned at the stake for my involvement, it was amazing she and I were even remotely considered friends. After all, she'd lost her crap over the theft of the Dumont family power. Not that she'd really had her life together in the first place. But she'd shattered completely, reduced to the weak and fragile witch who now sat before me.
But I'd known Mia for a long time now, since she called herself Pain. My abnormal, unpowered Goth friend, a long way from the witch whose magic had been sealed away by her own mother to protect her from Odette. Leaving her brother Quaid to suffer at the hands of the Moromonds.
I would not think about Quaid.
Would. Not.
“I hate to dump all of this on you,” Mia said, squeezing my fingers while Shenka made a strangled noise behind me. “But I don't know who else to turn to.” She pulled me a little closer, cold lips pressing to my cheek. “I can always count on you, Syd.”
She could. She was my friend, no matter what happened. Even if Shenka didn't agree.
Mia continued to ignore my second, like she always did, focused completely on me. In fact, Mia rarely acknowledged anyone outside herself. Made me wonder if the cracks in her personality somehow damaged her focus. Though her selfish absorption could have been one of the reasons Shenka disapproved of her.
