by Patti Larsen
Though it wasn’t like Shenka to care.
I pushed away my worries about my second and listened as Mia went on.
“I'm worried about my family.” I almost winced, afraid she referred to the Dumonts, only to understand a moment later. “They are lovely, don't get me wrong.” She released one of my hands to dab at her face with a tissue. “But I'm not as strong as I was, and they are so weak.”
Ah. She meant the small “coven” she built from the ruin of her old life. A handful of witches booted from the Dumont family after Andre took over, beneath his notice and without enough magic to protest their expulsion.
“What if I'm leading them astray?” Mia's ice blue eyes, Ameline's eyes, widened in worry, her face reminding me of a porcelain doll or an anime character come to life. “I'm doing my best, but I want to make sure they are happy.”
Guilt sizzled around my edges, the need to help my friend overwhelming me with its sting. I didn't blame Mia for her reaction. Understood she was doomed long before I met her, as a baby. Too young to understand, spending her whole life with part of herself missing. Being thrown into that horrible family as an impressionable young woman already damaged by years of loss. I was amazed she'd stood up at all, especially against Ameline, when Mia tried to claim the right to lead the Dumont family.
It wasn't her fault she failed.
I offered once before, told her I'd welcome her into the coven with open arms, accept her as a Hayle, give her purpose again. And meant it. Maybe this was the perfect time to renew my pledge to her.
If you welcome this creature, Shenka's mental voice cut through my thoughts, grant her a place with our coven, anger crawled over me as she snarled her fury, I'm leaving.
What is your problem? I turned to glare at Shenka who scowled right back.
She didn't respond, simply turned her back and went to stand at the window, shoulders stiff.
Seriously?
Fine. Whatever.
“I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job.” The words sounded hollow in my ears as I turned back, but Mia beamed at me.
“You think so?” She puffed up, as though she needed my approval.
She was doomed.
We talked a few more minutes, Mia rattling on through thought after thought, mind flitting from idea to impulse. I shrank from her emotionally, guilt more powerful than ever as I watched her spiral into insignificance right before my eyes.
Shenka finally spun and joined us, pulling out Mia's chair with a single, harsh jerk of energy.
“Forgive us,” she said in a grating tone, “we have preparations to make for conclave. If you'd be so kind.”
Mia acted as if Shenka hadn't spoken, rising to her feet like it was her decision to go.
“I really have to leave,” she said, hugging me, kissing both of my cheeks. She felt cold, almost vampire-before-dinner cold. “So much to do before the Councils arrive.”
I hesitated. “You're coming to conclave?” Only coven leaders were invited.
Oh, right. She thought she was one.
“I'll see you there,” she said, eyes bright, still with tracks on her cheeks from her makeup. She waved with an airy smile, letting herself out and I watched from the open door as she drifted down the driveway, paused to look both ways. Talked to herself in a singsong voice a moment before turning and floating away to the right.
I had no idea where she was going, but she clearly wasn't here anymore.
As I turned to give Shenka hell for being so rude, she stomped into my space and shook a finger at me.
“You listen to me, Sydlynn Hayle,” she said, the family magic crackling between us. “You made me responsible for the nurturing of this coven. As your second, it is my job to ensure the happiness of each and every family member.”
“I'm still leader,” I growled back. “And I say who joins and who doesn't.”
Our first fight. Okay then. At least she was standing up to me finally instead of going all quiet and weird.
Though as her power trembled on the edge of our connection, I almost wished she shut it.
“I've worked too damned hard to bring balance to this family for you to barge in with your crazy-ass refugee plan and tear our coven apart.” Shenka's eyes snapped with blue magic, a testament to her anger. “You want a healthy, strong family to come home to after you've saved the world? Then you stop being such an idiot about Mia Dumont.” She shivered. “Syd, seriously. Even if we weren't facing bigger issues, even if there wasn't a giant battle to the death coming, I still wouldn't want her or her ragtag band of nutjobs in this family. And neither should you.”
It was hard to hear Shenka, so hard. I wanted to save Mia—
“You can't rescue everyone,” Shenka said, finally calming, resting her hands on my shoulders. “It's not your fault and I want you to stop beating yourself up over people and events that had nothing to do with you.” She let out a long, gusty sigh. “We need you to be focused, to keep your attention on what's happening out there.” She jabbed a finger toward the door. “While we maintain the stability and quiet you need when you're here.” Another jab, this time at the floor. “Inviting Mia and her brood into this coven is inviting trouble and strife.” Shenka shook her head, glossing black hair waving around her. “I know you're buying her 'all's forgiven and let's be friends' routine because you want to believe you can save her, that she's salvageable. But Syd. I'm here to tell you I can see right through her little act.” Shenka dropped her hands. “She will destroy you if she can. And there's nothing of the girl you knew left to save.”
Um, what? “How do you know that?” Mia wasn't lying to me. She forgave me.
Didn't she?
“You walk around with your head in the clouds most of the time,” Shenka said, now with a wry twist to her lips. “And I can hardly blame you, with all the mess you have on your plate. But I'm down here with the rest of the witching world, and I pay attention to details.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I have sources who've chatted up her little coven. And they were more than happy to badmouth you and this family.”
More sadness. More anger.
“And so,” Shenka said, driving in the last word, “was Mia.”
I bobbed a nod. I had to trust Shenka.
“I just...” I raised my hands, dropped them as my heart, already beaten black and blue today, cracked a little further.
“I know,” Shenka said. “You care so much. Too much.” She turned and left the kitchen, pausing at the door to the basement for a parting shot. “But it's time to toughen up and move the hell on.”
Not even the sunlight could warm the chill passing through me.
Would have been nice of her to tell me just how to move on.
***
Chapter Seven
I had just sat down, my legs no longer willing to hold me up, when Sassafras leaped onto the table and fixed me with his amber eyes.
“I agree with Shenka,” he said.
“Of course you do.” I sat back, refusing to look at him. “Just beat it, cat. I'm busy.”
“Feeling sorry for yourself.” He snorted. “Typical. When will you tire of your little pity parties, Syd, and grow up?”
I wanted to snap at him, almost did. But as I turned to deliver a scathing line, I saw the twitch of his whiskers, the way his big eyes looked so sad, his drooping ears telling me loud and clear how much he was suffering.
Aw, hell.
Sassafras purred against me as I scooped him into my arms and propped my feet up on the next chair, leaning back for a cuddle.
“Funny,” I said. “I never seem to see you anymore and yet here I am, for the second time in less than twenty four hours, leaning on you.”
Sassafras's body settled. “I'm sorry,” he said. “I've been spending as much time with Ethpeal as I can.”
Ah. Choke. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He batted at me before going on. “Shenka's assessment is accurate. You spend too much time feeling guilty over things you c
an't control, worrying about those who have their own lives to live. You give up so much time and energy to caring for others, you forget you are the most important person in your life.”
This time I did try to protest, but he barreled on.
“If Mia had been strong enough in the first place, if her mother hadn't walled off her power in an effort to save her, if Ivan hadn't been such a lying, conniving, cheating bastard...” Sassafras's claws dug into my skin as he snarled softly. “None of it has a scrap of connection to you.”
I hated it when he was right.
“If anyone is to blame,” he said, “it’s your grandmother and I. We spent so much time when you were still developing inside Miriam, giving you power, teaching you to love, honor and protect those you care about, I fear we pushed you too far.”
I shivered at the thought those two had a say in my creation. And yet, I couldn’t have been more grateful.
“Your loyalty is one of your most commendable attributes,” he said. “And your greatest weakness. Though I know it goes against your heart, you must learn to release those who don’t deserve the kind of love you have to offer.”
Was he just talking about Mia, or was Quaid in this mix?
Sass left me, padding off to Gram's room as I mulled it over.
Remembered I wasn’t done with my second, just yet. Rose with a sigh and descended to the basement in search of Shenka.
I heard her before I spotted her, the sound of flesh on leather, the grunts of anger. I rounded the stack of boxes blocking off the view of my heavy boxing bag from the staircase and stood there while Shenka ineffectually whacked away at the hanging target.
I watched her for a few minutes before stepping into the space and putting my body behind the bag as she staggered and almost fell trying to kick it.
“You suck at this,” I said.
“So what?” She tossed her long hair back, dark cheeks pink. “You suck at a lot of stuff. I'm allowed.”
I laughed. Couldn't help it. Saw her anger crack open. Her lips turn into a grin.
“Why don't you let me teach you how to hit,” I said, thankful to my trainer, Sage, for being so thorough in his instruction I was comfortable sharing my knowledge. “And you can teach me how stop being an idiot.”
Shenka tilted her head, eyes narrowed, but still smiling.
“I'm not sure that's a fair exchange,” she said. “My job is so much harder.”
“Har har, smartass,” I said. Sobered. “Shenka, I'm sorry.”
She dropped her hands, still held in boxing stance. “No, I am.” She came to my side, hugged me. “It's not your fault you care about people. And I'd hate to think you lost that part of yourself.” She leaned back. “But you have to trust me when I argue with you, okay? Because I'll only do it when I know I'm right.”
“Promise,” I said. “But you have to do the same. Trust me.”
She tensed a moment before tossing her hands. “Tallah,” she said.
“If it’s personal…” I gave her an out, but Shenka’s face hardened as she squared herself.
“Not personal,” she said. “You need to know she’s been at me to come home ever since I joined this family.”
I wasn’t really surprised. Tallah didn’t strike me as the kind of person who quit easily. We had that in common.
“But it’s more than that.” She thudded one fist against the bag. “She’s been hinting at a power shift. She’s in talks with someone she says can help her, supposedly help all magic users, come out to normals.”
She what?
“Has she lost her freaking mind?” It was only sheer will keeping me planted in one spot.
“It’s always been Tallah’s greatest wish,” Shenka said with a hint of misery in her voice. “That we with power could walk freely among normals, heads high. Accepted and pursued as much desired assets by those in control of our plane.”
Cracked. Tallah was utterly cracked.
“I suppose she’s forgotten about the whole ‘there’s a witch, let’s kill her’ history we have with normals?” Aggravation and anxiety made me bounce on my toes. “Jumped up jackrabbit on a joystick, Shenka—tell me you don’t agree with her?”
“I used to,” she said. Softly. Sadly. “There’s a part of me that wishes it was possible.”
That settled me down. “Me too,” I said. “It would be fabulous if we didn’t have to hide, run from place to place out of fear we’ll be revealed.” A huge reason I was grateful for the Gate and Wilding Springs. Thanks to the Sidhe portal’s presence, we could probably have let off a magic bomb in town square and the residents would smile and point at the pretty fireworks.
But there was zero hope we could get along with normals. Witch history was written in enough blood it was no wonder the use of creation magic was banned during the Inquisition. There was no way normals would accept who we were without mass hysteria, fear and, ultimately, jealous hatred rearing their collective ugly heads.
“Who has she been talking to?” My chest tightened as I processed the next bit of Shenka’s announcement.
“The Steam Union,” Shenka said. Paused. “So she says.”
Crap. And more crap. “You’re worried it’s the Brotherhood in disguise?”
Shenka’s misery punched me with a hit of panic.
“I need to talk to Mom.” But I waited. For permission. While Shenka’s face crumpled before she nodded.
Suddenly shrieked.
I spun, power pulling tight, only to find the wild magicks swirling in a liquid dance behind me. Shenka covered her mouth with one hand, eyes wide as they came to touch her, sliding around her. Her fear quickly turned to wonder as she smiled at me.
“Are these what I think they are?” She stroked the blue fragment as it nuzzled her cheek.
How had I forgotten their visit?
Quaid. Oh yeah. Right.
He'd make me forget my own name.
“The wild magicks I freed,” I said, confirming her suspicion. “They showed up out of the blue last night.” Neither of us mentioned tall, dark and yummilicious. “I think they are trying to communicate, but I don't know what they want.”
She frowned a little, cupping her hands so the white spirit ribbon could pool there a moment.
“Any idea where they came from? Where the Brotherhood found them?”
“I don't know.” I smiled as the magicks did their dance of joy around us. “But I think Demetrius might.”
She rolled her eyes, but smiled. “I'll work on him,” she said. “He might be able to remember something if I'm careful.”
Shenka gasped out loud as the image of the machine flashed in my head.
“You too?” I reached out and took her hand as she nodded, breathless.
The next image built on the first, the crystals being broken. This was a new show, not the same as last night. I saw myself from their point of view, as they were freed, one by one.
“Amazing,” Shenka said. “Maybe they don't want anything. Maybe they are just telling you they are grateful?”
The darkness came again, the empty place reminding me of traveling with sorcery. I shuddered from the image, the memory of Demetrius taking us to Austria along the channels of black and silence as Shenka's hand tightened on mine.
The air beside me tore open, amber fire pouring through as the veil opened. The element fragments squealed in musical protest before fleeing in ripples of panic, out through the concrete foundation and gone in a flash.
I turned, still slightly dazed, to feel my demon grandmother's spirit touch me. I sent love to Ahbi Sanghamitra as my sister's tall, muscular form crossed from Demonicon to my plane. She towered over me in her platform boots, floor-length black jacket topped with spikes. Her polished horns curved back into her glossy curls, large wristbands studded with more dagger-like metal flashing as she waved at Shenka.
The veil sealed shut behind her, leaving us in the semi-dark of the single, dirty basement window.
“You two look like you've se
en a ghost.” Meira's voice, deeper and smoother than any human's broke through my bemusement.
“We had visitors,” I said.
“You'll have to tell me all about it,” she said. “And Mom, too.”
“Mom?” Right, Mom would probably want to know. Along with my worrisome news about Tallah.
Meira grinned at me, her body shrinking, clothes altering to a pair of jeans and a blue sweater, her skin now pale pink, eyes the same blue as mine. She now looked like a cross between Mom and Dad, my height and absolutely ordinary.
If stunningly gorgeous could ever be ordinary.
“Silly,” she said. “We have lunch. Did you forget?”
Oops. Right. It was family lunch day.
I really needed to start keeping a day planner.
Shenka grinned and stepped aside after hugging Meira hello. “Ask Syd who else came to visit.”
Traitor.
I didn't give Meira a chance, her evil grin enough to tell me she already guessed.
Just what I needed. Mom would have a cow.
Glaring at my second, I grabbed Meira's hand and tore the veil again, leaping inside with my sister in tow, willing to blurt Shenka’s news out at lunch if only to deflect the obvious questions.
***
Chapter Eight
I hadn't noticed how frazzled Mom looked when she sat with the rest of the Council while they lectured me on my unweddedness. But now I focused on her and not my own troubles, I saw the slight darkness under her eyes. How she looked more tired than usual.
Mom returned my hug before latching onto Meira. I caught a flicker of motion to my right, glanced over and spotted Maurice watching with a pinched and bitter expression. Looked like our little family lunch was on his list of unnecessary events.
“Council Leader,” he said in his whiny voice, round belly rising and falling as he spoke with his nose in the air. “You realize we have much to do between now and this evening?”
I have no idea where Mom found her patience. Instead of dropkicking his rotund little body out the nearest window like I would have, she smiled and nodded to him, waving him aside. She led Meira and me through the doorway he attempted to block as he spluttered at her for forcing him to move.
