by Shaila Patel
With a huffed breath, Mum crossed her arms.
“I have it handled, love.” He drank from his bottle. “You need to be having some faith. While there’s sure to be a power struggle, it’ll not be anything Liam here can’t handle.”
Jaysus. Was I meant to be thankful for his faith in me? I certainly wasn’t surprised he’d be thinking I’d want any part of a power struggle.
“When will we be leaving on Sunday?” I asked.
“You’re not going,” Mum said.
“Moira, it’ll be good for him to go. He needs to learn how to get on with the Elders, and one testing wasn’t enough time to learn what he needs to know.”
I cringed at the thought of spending more time with them. “No, Da, I need to know whose arse we’ll be kicking if they’re coming after me and—”
Mum slammed her glass down, and I coughed to hide my near-slip. Her glare told me well enough that I’d best keep my gob shut if I wasn’t going to be telling Da about Lucky. Da didn’t seem to catch what I’d been about to say.
He pointed his bottle toward Mum. “If you’re right, love, and they’re coming because of my visions, well, I’ve not given anyone specifics, which is probably what they’re wanting now. We’ll tell them we’ve been chasing a ghost these past twelve years, and that’s not a lie, is it? That’ll buy us some time, it will.”
Mum’s eyes narrowed. “Who are they sending?”
Da cleared his throat and took a long drink of his Guinness. “Minister Gagliardi.”
“Drago?” She paled, and I sensed ripples of her concern. She turned to me and then quickly glanced at the window facing Mrs. Robertson’s house, showing me she was thinking of Lucky. She sent a stronger warning this time—hotter water than before, and it caught my breath. What the hell? I shot her my irritation.
A knot formed in my chest. How was it that Lucky might be in danger? How in the bloody hell could this Drago Gagliardi be a threat to her? I pushed away my plate.
“Patrick, I told you this would happen one day. You’ll have to put off Drago however you can.” She turned to look at me. “Otherwise we’ll all be in danger.”
“Now love, you’re overreacting,” he said, waving his chopsticks dismissively. But he wouldn’t look at her.
Mum took a deep breath. “Patrick, Drago is fanatical, and his EQ is as high as Liam’s. It’s no coincidence he’s the one chosen to come see you. His family has made it well known they want representation within the Group of Elders, and Drago has been moving up the ranks in the Line of Ascension with a fury.” She pushed her food around her plate, then froze. “It’s why he was there at the signing. He was most likely waiting for Liam to turn eighteen and prove himself before the community—prove he indeed had the potential to become a soulmated empath.” She turned her gaze to me. “Drago will do what he can to stop you from becoming more powerful than himself. Stopping the joining will be his first priority.” She glanced out the window and back at me. The knot in my chest grew tighter, and the memory of the Mediterranean man Mum spoke with flashed across my mind.
“And how would you be knowing all this?” Da asked. “From thirty-some years ago when his family wanted you married to this Drago of theirs? I’ve not once heard you mention Gagliardi or his family’s name since.”
My head snapped in her direction. “What? You were going to marry him?”
“No, darling. I had no interest, but my parents considered their proposal—how could they not? He comes from a powerful family in his own right. His family wanted a seat on the Council. They thought if Drago married into my family, he’d be guaranteed one.” She faced Da, her eyes sparkling. “But I refused and married your father instead. The only reason my parents entertained the idea at all was because your father wasn’t an empath.” Her smile faded. “I have no idea how Drago finally became a Minister, and I think I don’t want to know.”
Da pointed his chopsticks at me. “You wouldn’t be sitting here if your ma hadn’t made such a wise choice.” He let out a burp and rubbed his stomach.
Mum fought down a smile.
If she was right about Drago Gagliardi, I’d need to know more about him. Whatever it was between Lucky and me, I’d be damned if I let anyone touch her.
Mum and I were cleaning up after supper when she leaned over and lowered her voice. “If Laxshmi is half as good as you say she is, Drago will see her potential immediately and assume she’s The One. We have to keep him away from her. If she breaks through to become a full empath, I’ll take her on as my apprentice and train her until she can protect her own mind. I’ll delay presenting her to the Elders to avoid drawing any attention to her.”
The Elders required an initiation ceremony for empaths who broke through after the age of twelve. They’d insist on Lucky pledging her loyalty to our laws and way of life. In my mind, it was little more than an excuse for a party where the old farts could probe the mind of a new initiate. I’d not be subjecting Lucky to that.
I stopped drying a plate and turned to Mum. “You’d be her mentor? Why not me?” Being an apprentice to a royal was a rare honor. It was better than becoming an A-list actor in Hollywood overnight. To be the soul mate to the heir of a royal line was an even bigger deal. Lucky might as well be the only one on that list—ever.
“You have no experience in such matters, Liam. Besides, you’re too young to mentor a new empath.” She pointed a wet finger at me. “Being a royal will show its advantages. It will mean the Elders will not dare to question my reasons for postponing her initiation. But it will bring undue attention to her, especially if we must move on from here to continue our search, leaving her behind.”
A bubble of anger surfaced at the thought of moving on. No doubt in protest, but of what? Moving yet again … or leaving Lucky? The sound of her laughing was echoing in my mind.
Mum handed me a wet dish. “If Laxshmi does turn out to be The One, our main focus will be developing your new powers after you join. I’ll feel better about her chances against someone like Drago then. I’ll talk to your Uncle Henry and tell him to make sure everyone remains tightlipped back home, just in case.”
“How is Lucky in danger from Gagliardi? Or am I meant to be in the dark about everything, for Chr–crying out loud?”
She scrubbed the serving spoons with a little too much attention. She stopped abruptly and then stared into the sink. “He was one of our first subjects for the EQ test. We gave him an intensive psychological analysis at the same time.” She rinsed off the spoon, gave it to me to dry, and met my gaze. “He had some strong antisocial tendencies and skirted the line of psychopathic behavior. It was as if he knew how to beat the test and was taking pleasure in toying with us. Not all my colleagues agreed with me on the matter, however. I suppose his charm helped with that. The only reason I’m able to warn you now is because his results had to be disclosed publicly for his ministerial position. I suspect the Elders ignored my concerns or were influenced somehow.”
A deranged council minister with designs on Lucky? Not good that.
She pulled the plug from the other half of the sink, draining the soapy water with a gurgle. A film of brownish oil and suds clung to the sides. She never did manual labor back home, but here, she seemed to enjoy it. It made her feel normal, she’d said.
“I’m concerned he would try to usurp my claim to mentor her. The red tape alone would leave her vulnerable. He’d no doubt use that time to lure her away from you, brainwash her against our family, or pervert her emerging powers for his sick gain.” Her voice steadily increased in pitch.
Damn.
She took a deep breath in, then exhaled slowly before continuing. “If it wasn’t for meeting your father … Well, since you insist on going with him this Sunday, I thought you should know. Keep Drago away from here and be careful. For Laxshmi’s sake.”
I rubbed my right temple, hoping to ward off a headache. I thought Da would’ve been the one giving me a migraine.
Mum rinsed off the sides of the sink. If only keeping Lucky out of these complications would be as easy as cleaning up had been.
“Liam, I know you’re not going to like this, but I’ll need to meet her.” I opened my mouth, but she shot up a hand to stop my protesting. “The sooner I can sense her in person, the easier it’ll be for me to home in on her state of mind and help protect her.” She studied me for a moment. “You know, darling, she must like you if she made you blush, which I assumed is what you meant by being embarrassed in a good way.”
Jaysus. How does she always know? I sighed. “And why would you be saying something like that?”
“Because we women don’t wield our charms to make just anyone blush. Besides, who could resist my baby boy?”
I groaned, and she giggled. Thankfully, we finished up in silence. After I had the leftovers sorted and stored, I leaned against the counter. “For once, I don’t want my life to be about finding a soul mate.”
“I know.” She cupped my cheeks in her hands. “Why do you think I didn’t protest when you chose not to tell your father, love?”
CHAPTER 10
Lucky
I woke the next morning and stared at my ceiling, trying to bubble wrap yesterday’s memories of Liam and store them someplace special.
Would he be awake yet? I glanced toward the window. “Crash Into Me” was still stuck in my head from playing it on repeat all afternoon. I imagined Liam and me sitting on the window seat in the moonlight, talking for hours, and not caring about school, mothers, or the future. It was how a connection between two people ought to be … carefree. But, surprise, surprise, I was getting ahead of myself.
I yanked my poetry journal out from under my pillow and read what my insomnia had inspired last night.
I wish my hand would dare,
To memorize your face,
To run its fingers through your hair
Then feel your heartbeat race.
Sap. My heart was definitely vulnerable to being ripped apart by hope. I was already hoping to walk to school with him, hoping to have lunch with him, and hoping the tingling would return.
Yup. I was a hopeless cause.
I did some deep stretches on the floor, reading my plaque with Aristotle’s quote again. Would Liam and I together be greater than our sum? Was it asking too much to want that? To marry for love? I imagined centuries of girls asking the same question.
Mom’s words echoed in my head. “Passion goes away, and love won’t pay your bills. Dancing won’t either. Remember that, hunh?”
After showering, I headed downstairs to the usual morning sounds of pots and pans clanking in our small kitchen. Even the noise couldn’t distract me from thoughts of Liam. At least I’d see him soon.
“Hey, Mom.”
She popped some bread in the toaster. “I was so busy on the phone with your Harshna Mami yesterday, I forgot to ask you about the school. How was your first day, beta?” she asked, using a term of endearment. I guessed things with Sujata’s drama had blown over for now.
“It was fine. How’s everything at the travel agency?” I sat down at the kitchen table, switching chairs to avoid the one with the sharp chrome lip.
“Good. Good.”
“So how’s Mama and Mami?” Had they killed Sujata yet? I had to be careful asking about my uncle and aunt. I couldn’t let on that I’d known anything about Sujata and Michael dating.
“They’re fine.”
Liar.
She finished slicing a banana and moved to the sink to put the peel in the large yogurt container she used for kitchen scraps.
“Laxshmi,” she said, nonchalantly. “Mrs. Robertson said there is a new high school boy on the other side of her. Is he in your classes?”
“Liam’s in two of them.” Damn. Damn. Damn. I shouldn’t have said his name. “But he’s a senior, so I don’t see him a lot,” I added quickly.
One of her lectures on “what all boys wanted” was sure to follow.
“Oh? Which classes?”
“AP History and AP Calculus.” I didn’t know why I cared, but I added the AP to impress her. I doubted it would work.
She stayed silent, so I picked up a pencil and doodled on the message pad. Her thoughts had to be marinating. The idea of fighting with her about Liam made my heart race.
“You know, deeku,” she said.
Great. Here we go. Toast, bananas, and a side order of paranoia wrapped up with another term of endearment.
“It doesn’t matter how smart boys are, they all—”
“God, Mom. Please give it a rest. I know. All boys are bad. You don’t have to lecture me every time the name of one comes up.” My gut twisted for jumping down her throat, but I’d heard every version of her spiel since Daddy had died. She glared at me like I’d just poked a hornet’s nest, and she was the queen. Blood pulsed behind my ears.
“You don’t know everything, okay?” she said. “What happens if you get pregnant, hunh? Are you going to raise the baby on your own? Do you think some American boy will marry you and take care of you?”
He’s Irish, not American, so, ha!
“You will be struggling all your life. Struggling. Okay? It’s all over the TV. Watch those people on Jerry Springer. Do you think their life is so easy? Do you want to be like them? Hunh?” She scraped the butter on the toast with a little too much gusto.
“I’m not going to end up on Springer just because I talked to a boy.” Why bother explaining? I looked away, toward the dining room, and blinked back tears. Why did she always get to me like this? Sujata would’ve reminded me to be brave.
“Do you think you will become a doctor when you cannot sleep and have to clean up the diapers and vomit? Hunh? Do you want to be like Sujata? She’s bringing shame to the family.”
Shame?
“Mom, give Sujata some credit. She’s dating a smart guy. He’s at Georgetown too, you know.” I should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I couldn’t. The message pad now sported Liam’s name with swirls around it. Maybe I’d be fighting for him someday.
Yeah, right. I frantically erased his name.
She plunked down my toast in front of me on a green-flower-rimmed dish. These plates could compete with the kitchen table for oldest thrift-store find.
“She’s only thinking about herself,” Mom began again. “She can’t focus on school if she’s worried about how she looks and what underwear she’s wearing for her boyfriend. I told your Harshna Mami that Sujata should come home before something bad happens. Bichari, Sujata. Poor girl. He probably made her sleep with him too, and now who is going to marry her, hunh? The boys get what they want, and then they’re finished. One mistake and your good life is gone. Remember that.”
Whatever I could say to help defend Sujata would reveal what I knew, so I stayed quiet. I wanted to eat in peace, but knew Round Two was coming. Never knew a tornado to touch down without wind damage.
She poured chai into her mug and shook her head. “Going with someone white. What is she thinking?” she muttered.
“God! How is her whole life ruined because everyone’s afraid of a white guy?” I was really pushing it, but I couldn’t stop the hope from spilling out. If I knew what was good for me, I’d plug up the leak.
She slammed down her mug. “You always think everything will be okay. We didn’t sacrifice for you so you can become some—some waitress or cashier for all your life. It takes one night to ruin everything. No, not even one night. Five minutes!” She wagged her finger toward the Lord Krishna clock hanging on the wall.
Five minutes? I guess Sujata made Michael stick around longer. Good for her.
“Your Harshna Mami made a mistake letting Sujata go so far to the Georgetown. You will be going somewhere close, hunh? You can go here to the UNC and come home every weekend.”
I didn’t think North Carolina had an accelerated med school program, but I wasn’t going to mention that. Bringing up their dance program was e
ven stupider. If only I knew how much my Princess Fund held. I had no fantasies about it being a huge amount, but maybe it would be enough to help pay my way for a short time if I moved in with Sujata. I idly wondered how much I’d need if I went to a university in Ireland. I sighed.
The clatter of dishes thrown together in the sink sliced at my nerves. I couldn’t argue about UNC right now. My courage was running on empty. So I kept quiet, finished my breakfast, and escaped upstairs.
Chai in hand, Mom stopped me by the front door before I left. She was dressed for work in her travel agency’s uniform—a maroon, knit polo and khaki pants. Her hair was now in a long braid, and button-earrings set off her earlobes, the distinctive brassy color of the twenty-two karat gold announcing her Indianness to everyone.
Her post-tirade ambush at the door meant a soft lecture was coming, one where the tone was more motherly, but the tidings neurotic and smothering. Just more wind damage.
“Beta, you know all I want is for you to be successful and happy, hunh? We didn’t come all the way here for you to throw away everything we sacrificed. That’s why you need to be a doctor. You will have a good life, good husband, and a big house. You won’t need anything else.”
How about love?
“Don’t let anyone ruin your schooling,” she said. “If you don’t get a good match, your education is your security. Don’t be like me, hunh? Young boys, they have no responsibility. Their hormones are too strong, and they will do anything to sleep with you.”
Right. And we girls didn’t have hormones. If she only knew how my body reacted when Liam was near me. If I even imagined him touching my skin, my breathing sped up.
Oh yeah, girls had no hormones.
She turned back toward the kitchen. “And, Laxshmi? I don’t want you talking to him.”
“What?” I rushed after her.
“Mrs. Robertson says he’s a handsome boy, and I don’t want you getting involved with him.”
