by Patti Larsen
“This Council,” she snapped, “has reached a decision on the matter. While we are grateful for your actions on our behalf,” yeah, she sounded—and they looked—really grateful, “and are well aware of the consequences of the Brotherhood's activities,” I highly doubted that was true, “there have been so many repeated incidents of you and your coven breaking and bending law, we can no longer tolerate your behavior as we once did.”
Tolerate my—
Bite me.
“This is your final warning, Leader Hayle.” Mom's voice vibrated with her barely contained anger. “This kind of vigilante activity has no place in our society and, from this moment forward, if you step over that line you will be punished to the full extent of our laws.” Her knuckles rapped against the table, the sound ringing through the room. “Any and all charges we bring against you shall be retroactive from this point on. We're giving you a pass, but should you push your boundaries again, if you choose to stand on the wrong side of the law, we will bring the full force of that law to bear for every single infraction you've incurred.”
Like it mattered. Any one of them, if prosecuted the right way, would mean burning me at the stake. How many times could they crispy critter one prisoner?
Then again, my near-invincibility raised some uncomfortable possibilities.
The idea they could burn me, wait for me to heal and regenerate, only to do it all over again made my blood slow to a cold crawl.
Mom slammed her chair back and stood so abruptly, Huan meeped in fear. “Dismissed.”
I stood there and shook as they filed out once more, Mom storming away, explosive anger held in check by the thin thread of a vampire's power as she begged me to keep my temper.
We won, she sent.
For now, I shot back. But what happens next time? This isn't going to go away. And I have a job to do.
Not one of my other egos could counter that truth.
And damn me, no matter the consequences, next time I wouldn't hesitate, either.
Still shaking, suffocating in the now dank and oppressive air of the room, I spun and left, head up, the momentary victor in a war I couldn't win.
***
Chapter Thirty Six
Mom wasn't about to let me off so easy. I'd just stepped outside the front doors of University Hall, preparing to find a quiet place to tear open the veil and just go the hell home when her mind latched onto mine.
Not gently. Not kindly. With force.
My office, she sent. Snarled, really. Now.
First impulse? Smartass answer.
Second impulse? Ignore her and get the hell out.
Third impulse won. I trudged across the Yard, the frayed edges of my give a damn hanging around me. All through the last three days I'd been hoping Mom's angry front was just that—a front. A mask to keep the other Council members happy.
But now that I'd felt her mind, heard and touched how real it was, my own anger flared bright and eager for a target.
This really is a bad idea, my vampire sent.
No hitting, Shaylee added.
No mercy, my demon growled.
They were all kinds of helpful.
It was only the layers and layers of shielding I built keeping me from imminent explosion. When I focused on my energy, my temper cooled. I felt Gram battering around the edges, trying to get to me now that I was free, but I wasn't ready to let her in just yet. I knew she had to be worried. I sent her a thin touch of comfort before shutting her out completely just as the elevator doors dinged and whooshed open.
Maurice stood on the other side, his round face pinched in distaste. “Coven Leader,” he said as if it hurt him. “This way.”
“I know the way,” I said. Shoved past him with a wave of magic pushing ahead of me like a battering ram, the shields I'd built forming a shell keeping him from touching me.
Just try to touch me, bugazoid. See how big a smear you make.
Mom's office door gaped open. I stormed through and slammed it behind me, right in Maurice's furious face. Let him be mad. Too freaking bad. I was a coven leader, damn it, and no two-bit bureaucrat with delusions of his own importance would treat me with anything but respect.
Hell yeah.
Mom stood in the window, her back to me, hands clasped behind her. The streaming sunlight cast her in darkness, though her rigidity told me as much as her angry mental connection had.
“Council Leader.” No way was she getting more than that from me. Not after what she'd done.
“Coven Leader,” she said, voice a deep growl.
“You wanted to see me?” I sank into one of the high-backed chairs in front of her desk, crossing my legs, going for casual. The laws be damned, I hadn't done anything wrong. In fact, I'd done it as much by the book as I could, considering the circumstances. Mia's little hissy fit was just that. And as long as Mom didn't know I'd snuck in to see Ameline, I should be golden.
She didn't turn, didn't move. “I thought we had an agreement.” No sadness in her voice, not a touch of motherly concern. Just that hard-edged anger, the coldness of her disappointment.
“We did,” I said. “And I followed your rules.”
“Until they didn't suit you any longer.” She spun then, still in darkness as the light behind her glared around her, but her blue eyes glowed with enough power they were visible. “You were to stay out of it, Syd.”
This was bordering on the ridiculous. “Tell me,” I said. “What would you have done about the Brotherhood's crystal device if you'd ever found out about it? Which I doubt you would have, considering your track record.”
Syd, my vampire whispered. Careful. Something is wrong here.
What? I reached for Mom, but she was as sealed off as I was. Wrong? What do you mean?
I don't know, she sent, but your mother feels...
Dark, my demon growled.
Lost, Shaylee sent.
If they were worried, I needed to be concerned. I reached for Mom again, but with no more luck than the first time.
“This Council,” Mom said, “and this office are the last line between witchdom and chaos, Leader Hayle.” She was going for the formal, too, following my lead. “And while we're in no way perfect, we have processes and laws for a reason.” One of her fists lifted and hit her thigh with a dull thud. “I understand your position. I do. But, Syd, please, you have to listen.” She seemed to crumble, body falling forward, shoulders slumping, the statue of anger collapsing into desperate rubble. “They'll kill you next time,” she whispered.
I stood and went to Mom, turned her sideways so the sun lit her face at last. Deep lines, lines that weren't there before, creased her face as her cheeks pinched in worry and fear. More silver threaded through her jet hair and her hands, when they gripped mine, were thin and withered. How much pressure was she under? Or, as my egos suspected, was there more going on here?
“Mom,” I said, squeezing her hands, “are you okay?”
She shook her head, tried to pull away but I refused to let her go. Tried again to reach her. Finally did when I dropped my own thick shielding. For a moment she felt like nothing to me, gaping emptiness.
There it is, my vampire sent.
But the feeling vanished so quickly, the rush of Mom smothering me only a second later, even my egos seemed confused.
She's hiding something, Shaylee sent. There's much more to this than she's told you. Than you've uncovered.
Agreed, my vampire sent.
She'll tell us, my demon snarled.
But standing there in the sunlight with my reduced mother slumped before me, I couldn't bring myself to push her too hard. I let her power hug me, hugged her back physically, the scent of lilacs so powerful it triggered my nausea.
No, not the lilacs themselves, but the rancid edge around them.
What was happening to my mother?
She pulled away, shoulders straightening as she met my eyes, more of the woman I knew and loved in her face than had been since this whole mess began.
“You give me strength, as always.” Her fingers brushed my cheek, a small smile lifting her lips, her whole face.
“Mom,” I said. “I know there's something going on with you. Let me help.”
She hesitated. And for a heartbeat I was sure she was about to ask. But when she looked away, out the window, her face fell and I knew she would never let me in.
Damn her and her stubbornness. Like I was one to talk.
“There's more,” I said. “Things I didn't tell the Council.”
Her head whipped around, eyes tightening.
“Trill has information,” I said. “About a dark sect of maji—”
Mom's reaction was so powerful I jumped when she jerked away from me, face contorted in a mix of grief and rage.
“Stop!” She turned away, went to her desk, slammed both fists into its surface. “Enough, Syd!”
My anger failed me, weariness taking over. I'd fought so hard for so long, only to meet a wall I couldn't bring down, the wall that was my mother.
“I can't stop,” I whispered, voice cracking. “It's my destiny.”
She turned toward me, shaking her head, tears tracking down her cheeks. “This is my fault,” she said. “Mine. I should have let you go when you wanted to be free.”
I gaped at her as my heart broke. “What?”
Mom surged forward, grasped my arms, a hint of madness in her eyes. “If I'd known, Syd, I would have let you go.” She sobbed once, released me to cover her face with her hands. “I would never have let this happen to you.”
“It wouldn't have mattered.” I knew that now, as clearly as I understood who I was becoming. “Mom, I'd be here, like this, regardless. You know that.”
She dropped her hands, hugging herself, looking away. “Please tell me you'll obey this time.” She met my eyes, that same madness in her. Had I driven her to the brink, the battle between her need to protect me and the magic of the Council tearing her in two?
Ah, my vampire sent. You might have something there. The Council's power has been indoctrinated for centuries, has it not? And while it doesn't control your mother...
It lived inside her. Influenced her. Guided her.
Oh, Mom.
“I'm sorry it's come to this,” I said. “But we both know there's nothing I can to do change things. I'll keep myself as far under the radar as I can. But I have to stop the Brotherhood, Mom. I don’t have a choice, either.”
She trembled, arms still squeezing herself tight. “I've done everything I can to protect you,” she said. “I have nothing left.”
“I know,” I said, my sadness for her, for both of us, choking me. Though I stood only two feet from her, it felt like miles. My mother wasn't my mother anymore, couldn't be. Not with the power of the Council position forcing her to be Leader first.
And though I hated what I had to do to her, destiny called me. And I knew better than to ignore it.
“I wish things were different.” I hugged her again, gently, feeling how frail she'd become, how thin. She didn't embrace me, though she laid her cheek against mine, her skin cold and clammy. “We should be on the same side. But I know you have other powers to answer to, Mom. So do I.” I leaned away. “You're my mother. I love you no matter what. Whether we end up on opposite sides, whether the power you carry forces you to act against me.” She shuddered, tears trickling down her cheeks. “I get it, and I understand now.” She sobbed once, softly, head bowing. “But, Mom, for the love of the elements, keep your eyes open and stop holding things back from the rest of the Council.”
She swiped at her nose with the sleeve of her blouse. Bobbed a nod.
“Maybe that way we can keep me out of prison.” It came out in a half joke, but it really wasn't funny.
I kissed her softly, sent her love before turning and leaving her there, struggling with her loyalty to me and her ties to the Council power. When I took one last look back, she was still there, trembling and hugging herself, so close to broken I wanted to rush back inside and save her.
Couldn't. I could barely save myself these days. And despite knowing now I couldn't count on Mom any more, what I told her was the complete truth.
I had to bring the Brotherhood down, would do anything, no matter what it took.
The image of Ameline in her cell, smiling at me, triggered one exception.
Almost anything.
***
Chapter Thirty Seven
Gram's arms squeezed me tight as I stepped through the veil and into the edge of the park. She must have felt me coming despite my attempts to keep her out.
“Girl,” she whispered in my ear. “I worried.”
“Me too,” I whispered back. “Still am.”
Gram leaned away, lower lip quivering a moment before she shook her head, frown pinching her brow. “She wouldn't let me near you,” Gram said. We both knew who “she” was. And the way Gram said it sounded like Mom was in very hot water.
“There's more to it than we thought.” I shared the understanding with her, the way Mom felt and Gram hissed, one hand covering her mouth.
“Miriam,” she whispered. “Damn her. She could have told us.”
Instead of trying to do it all herself? Not a Hayle trait or anything.
“Her hands are tied,” I said as I crossed into the yard, the wards welcoming me home. Gram followed, one hand sliding into mine as the grass swished under her fuzzy socks. I looked up to find Charlotte standing in the middle of the green space, watching me.
Not freaking out I’d been gone so long.
I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.
My bodywere shuddered as I came to a halt in front of her, the wolf flickering in her eyes before she settled into her usual stoic stare.
“Hi.” I hugged her, not knowing how she'd receive it. I'd left her for dead, no matter how I looked at it, twisted it. She'd hovered on the edge of leaving me forever and I'd left her to choose.
Charlotte's arms wound around me, pulled me tight as she whispered something in her mother tongue. I didn't catch the words themselves, but the feeling of her was as familiar as it could get.
“I love you, too,” I whispered back.
She smiled at me as we released each other, blinking tears from her blue eyes. It always struck me so odd how young she looked when she smiled, just a girl like me, with too much weight on her shoulders.
I had to find ways to make her smile more often.
Charlotte's hand released me, a little frown of sadness flashing as her smile disappeared. But she didn't comment and though I had a million questions to ask her, and a whole heap of gratitude to share, I didn't get the chance.
The back door flew open and Shenka ran out, taking her turn to hug me just as Sassafras's silver body streaked toward me. I lifted him into my arms once Shenka let me go, feeling his purr rumble through my whole body.
My family. Who loved me.
They were worth all of it.
Even Demetrius's face, peeking out the door, big blue eyes wide, a foolish grin on his cherub face, filled me with joy.
“I'm making pancakes,” Gram said, linking arms with me.
“At five in the afternoon.” Of course she was.
I let the door squeak shut behind me, closing out the rest of the world.
Trouble could wait while I ate breakfast for dinner with the ones I loved.
***
Thud. Thud.
My fists pounded at the heavy bag in the quiet gym, body tingling with the need to just beat the crap out of someone.
Something would have to do.
The last few hours hadn't gone exactly as I planned.
I'd had about ten minutes of stogging sweet pancakes into my face before someone knocked on the front door. I could feel Liam before it even opened, felt a swell of gratitude he'd come to see me, rushed from my chair to hug him.
Almost took out Sonja who slid in beside him with her false smile on her face.
“Oh, Syd,” she gushed as L
iam's face tightened, “we were so worried about you, dear.”
I. Just. Bet.
All of my warmth and welcome ran out of me like she'd punctured my soul. “Thanks,” I said as I turned my back on them. Liam's hand settled on my arm, tried to spin me around, but honestly? I'd had it.
I didn't just spend three freaking days defending my freaking right to live after saving the freaking witching world just to have Liam's freaking annoying-ass mother scrape the peeling from my last nerve.
Shenka hustled them out, the sound of her soothing voice doing nothing for the rising irritation taking over. I slammed out of the kitchen and to the back door, letting the screen hit with more force than necessary.
Just as Quaid's power engulfed me.
He stood there, jeaned and t-shirted, chocolate eyes full of need, dark hair begging for my fingers to wind through, lips parted.
Lips I wanted to kiss, bite, crush with my own.
Damn them both, these men in my life. Anger flashed inside me, washed over onto Quaid who took a step back, hands up.
“I'm not him,” he said in his deep, velvet voice.
“You're not mine, either,” I said. “And you never will be.”
Yeah, it was that kind of talk.
Quaid dropped his hands, face settling into calm. If I'd hoped to trigger a fight—okay, I did, so sue me, a good fight would have been perfect right about then—he wasn't taking me up on my attempt.
“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He stuck his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “And to tell you how amazing you are.”
Not in the mood for flattery.
But he could keep going. Just in case I changed my mind.
“I'm sorry about Mia.” Quaid's face fell at last. “She's totally broken now, Syd.”
My temper cooled and I nodded. “I figured. I'm sorry, too.”
Quaid shrugged, bitterness flashing in his eyes. “Our parents never gave us a chance,” he said. “Our whole family was against us. I guess it's just one of those things.”
His words made me flinch. I had the most amazing family and I knew it now. I would have argued that point once, but not anymore. I knew how lucky I was. How damaged Quaid and his sister were thanks to Odette and Claire and the mess their coven made of their young lives.
