by Patti Larsen
“I’m supposed to believe that.” Rage rose again and I let it out, the pain from earlier washing away in the surge of my temper. “After Trill betrayed me—betrayed all of us—betrayed Creator herself, by stealing the heart of the statue keeping the Stronghold alive.”
Nona didn’t comment, thin lips pulled tight.
Owen looked back and forth between us, clearly torn. The poor guy, I did feel for him. This was his sister, after all. And I knew he’d struggled with loving her and wanting to help me find her while having his loyalty tested. How did I know? Because all I had to do was put myself in his shoes. If it was Meira and me I wouldn’t know what I’d do.
Yes, I did. I’d go after her personally and bring her in.
“I won’t tell you anything,” Nona said. “As promised.”
“She gave you vital information I need to find her, to save the Universe.” Nona stared at me. “Information that could stop Belaisle and Dark Brother and the Order.” Was that fear in her face now? “And you’re going to keep it to yourself because your traitor of a granddaughter told you to. Is that it, Nona?”
“Syd.” It wasn’t Owen who uttered that low, warning word in the form of my name.
I cut Simon off with one sharp chop of my hand, not even looking at him, holding her in my gaze.
“I welcomed you into my family,” I said, shaking with rage, with frustration and anguish, all wrapped up in a ball of hurt inside me. “I gave you a safe place. And you repay me by welcoming her here, by keeping secrets from me. By putting my family at risk because you believe her despite what she’s done. I’ll ask you again. Is that it, Nona?”
She swallowed. And nodded.
Oh. My. Swearword.
I backed away, bile in the back of my throat, heart pounding so hard my ears rang. “I won’t put the coven in danger any longer,” I said. “If you choose to side with a proven traitor, you’re on your own.” Was I really saying this? Was I kicking an old lady to the curb?
An old lady with enough power to take care of herself, my demon snarled. She broke our trust, Syd.
I don’t know about this. My vampire’s soft caution was lost when Shaylee spoke up.
Out, the Sidhe princess snapped, the ground rumbling again, trailer rocking side to side from the mini earthquake. Before we throw you out.
Nona may not have heard Shaylee speak but she must have gotten the point. She rose, pushing Owen off her. Gestured forward, to the door.
“If you’ll get out of my home,” she said, all defiance, “I’ll get out of yours.”
I found myself a moment later in the asphalt driveway, wondering how this had gone so badly, how yet another Zornov had chosen to betray me. Nona waited, staring at Owen, who finally turned his back on her, crossing his arms over his chest. She closed the door with a last glare for me, but called out through the window at me when she fired up the engine.
“Mark my words, Sydlynn Hayle,” she shouted over the spluttering motor. “You’ll be grateful for Trillia’s help before long.” And then she drove away, backfiring a few times down the street before she pulled around the corner at the end of the lane and disappeared into the night.
I turned, still bubbling with rage, to find Simon glaring at me.
“Who the hell are you?” He hit me, a hard, sharp punch with the pointy knuckles of one fist. It didn’t hurt, not really. Nothing much physical bothered me anymore. But the fury in his eyes, that hurt.
It hurt a lot.
“Don’t do this, Simon.” I tried to push past him. “You have no idea what’s really at stake.”
His hand caught my arm, turned me around. I glanced over his shoulder at the cluster of witches, dressed in a mix of pajamas and casual clothes, gathering to witness the fight, groaning silently. The physical and magical manifestation of my anger at Nona had caught attention, obviously. Of course it had. I was an idiot. Any amount of power expenditure brought bodies these days. Too close still to the night the Brotherhood came to call.
“I know you just went over the line, Hayle.” I didn’t have time for his mightier than thou attitude. He was human, mortal. He didn’t have a clue. Yes, he was my friend, but there was no way he could truly comprehend what Nona had done.
Tippy eased from the crowd, coming toward me, a fake smile on her face, green eyes huge. I ignored her, brushing Simon’s hand from my arm.
“And I’d do it again,” I snarled in his face. “I’ll do anything and everything I can to ensure the safety and preservation of this family.” I was shaking again, overcome with emotion so powerful I wanted to cry, to just break down and weep and hide and be left alone, damn it.
He shook his head, eyes cold. “If only you knew,” he said. “Every time you act these days, it’s the total opposite.”
He did not just say that to me. He did not, after everything I’d done, was doing, would do for my family, my coven. The whole freaking Universe. He did not.
Not.
Power hummed around me, my hands crackling with blue fire, the exact moment Tippy grasped my arm gently in one hand. Simon backed off with a flare of fear and my demon, Shaylee and vampire all jumped on me at the same moment.
Syd. Pull yourself together, woman.
“When this is over,” he said, voice cold and shaking, “when Apollo is safe, I’ll be leaving, too.”
I didn’t say anything. There was nothing I could say as Simon turned and went back in the house, slamming the door behind him. Owen just stood there a long moment before his impossibly blue eyes met mine.
“I’ll talk to him,” he whispered, before following his friend inside.
Nicci, Donalda and Josie joined Tippy, forming a smiling, calming line between me and the watching family. I could feel their unease, their anxiety. The girls who had taken over Shenka’s position, none of whom agreed to take her place entirely, did what they could. But they could only go so far.
The family needed my assurances. And I wasn’t sure it was in me right now to give to them. The image of my daughter clinging to Dad, asking for Quaid while Nona drove away washed together into a crippling mix of self-loathing and regret I finally couldn’t handle. I had to turn away, leaving the girls to deal as best they could.
Tippy didn’t let me go alone. She pulled on me, clung to me, leech-like, until I spun on her in the dark of the Zornov’s back yard and snapped.
“Let me go.” Power zinged up my arm and into her hand. She cried out softly, a spark of blue jumping between us. Tippy shook her fingers, sucking on the burned spot while all of the rage and hopelessness collapsed around me, leaving me shaken and empty.
I lunged for her, sent power to the burn, healed it immediately with a whisper of magic. She smiled, sad and lost, before hugging me tight.
Her red hair smelled like flowers. I clung to that scent and to her.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“Me, too.” She pulled away, shaking her head, tears on her cheeks. “Syd, what happened?”
I filled her in quickly, looking back toward the driveway and the gathering. “I have to talk to them,” I said, hating the weariness in my voice, in my soul.
“No, you don’t.” But she was just mouthing platitudes and we both knew it.
With heavy, dragging feet and a heart that wasn’t in it, I crossed back to the driveway and mustered what strength I could.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, this time to everyone, pushing out with magic so they could feel they were safe. The crowd shifted, relaxed as I did, clinging to me as Tippy had clung to me. I suddenly felt smothered, but they wouldn’t let me go so I stood there, crushed by their need as I went on. “Everything is all right. There’s no need to worry. We’re safe.”
More platitudes. But they believed me, drifting home again, some waving. I held still, ignored those who seemed to want to make more personal moves, thankful to the girls who kept their line and allowed me my space, physically at least.
Why did it suddenly feel like
I was losing the ability to care about other people? The strength to shoulder their burdens? That was my job, wasn’t it? Or was it? My real job was fixing the Universe.
And I wasn’t sure if I could do both anymore.
Without a word to the girls, just a quick surge of thanks, I stepped through the veil this time, unwilling to walk the half block to my house just in case someone decided to corner me to talk. I just wasn’t in the mood.
***
Chapter Five
I appeared in the darkened kitchen, to the silence of my empty house. A spasm of loss washed over me, made all the worse by the forlorn and waiting silver Persian who hovered in the middle of the tile floor, one paw up, ears sideways, whiskers dragging down around his mouth.
With a low cry, I hurried forward, scooping Sassafras into my arms. Together, we settled into a chair as I wept openly into his soft fur while he mustered a faint purr in response through his own hurt.
“Everyone’s gone,” he whispered into my hair. “I came home and no one was here.”
How had my life gotten screwed up so badly? To the point even my demon cat was a wretched, emotional wreck?
“I’m sorry.” I choked on the words, released my grip on him so he could settle in my lap. He looked up at me, amber eyes glowing.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said, wiping at his face with one paw. “I didn’t mean to sound so… pathetic.” He looked away, sighed into the quiet kitchen. “It’s just I’ve never felt so lonely, Syd. At least, not for a long time. Not since Thad…” his quiet voice cracked before it drifted off.
He’d never told me the whole story, about how my ancestor, Thaddea Hayle, rescued him, though I’d heard enough over the years to know he cared for her a great deal, the first Hayle coven leader.
“This house should be full of kids and laughter and Quaid,” I said, voice shaking with guilt now rising, my old friend, to crush me and make me feel small.
“I never meant for you to feel like this was your fault.” Sass’s paws kneaded my leg. “It’s just so different from what I’m used to. From the way things used to be.” He sighed, tail thrashing once. “I know better. You Hayle witches are anything if unpredictable. And I’m a big boy. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
I stroked his fur, heart hurting all over again. “The kids are going to Hong Kong,” I whispered in the dark, letting him feel my pain, the ache of that decision. Sass cried out softly, a cat’s weak mew of hurt.
“Quaid?” He said my husband’s name with an edge to it.
“Not his fault, either,” I said. “No one’s. But Fate, maybe. And the damned Universe that can’t fight its own stupid battles.”
Sass just nodded.
“Do you.” I couldn’t finish at first, had to force myself to go on past my desperate need for him, of all people, to stay with me. “Do you want to go to be with the kids?” He was, after all, meant to be the guardian of the Hayle children. He’d done so for generations, only pausing in that responsibility with my kids because of Galleytrot’s presence. Choosing to stay with me had interrupted the continuum of Sassafras influence on Hayle children and I knew I was being selfish, denying my kids the benefit of his love and experience.
But he was mine, damn it. And I had so little left to cling to.
Sass’s hesitation brought more tears to my eyes. Until he spoke.
“You needed me,” he said, voice aching. “Long before they were born. They don’t, Syd. They never will. Your kids have the dog.” He grumbled, though with good nature shining through. “And you still need me.” He looked up, ears sinking, eyes huge. “Don’t you?”
I crushed him against me again, both of us crying on repeat.
“Always,” I whispered. “Silly cat. I’ll always need you.”
“Then, that’s my answer,” he said. “I’m staying here. Where I’m needed.”
I released him, kissed his soft forehead. At last his purr burst forth, washing me with the warmth of his comforting magic.
“Love you, Sass,” I said.
“Love you, too, Syd.” Amber flashed in his gaze.
The soft knock on the door interrupted us. But I was okay with that. Because the steady, kind and familiar warmth of Sassafras, my first and best friend in the whole world, was with me. And always would be. I rose with him still in my arms, went to the door, but was only halfway to it when it opened of its own accord and a power I knew well was welcomed across the threshold of the family magic.
Charlotte Girard, her blue eyes flaring with the power of the werenation, nodded to Sass and me, pausing with a frown on her beautiful face as she took in our mutual state of emotional exhaustion.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” A lot of apologizing was going on the last little while. I shrugged, Sass tucked carefully against me.
“What’s up?” Because there was always something.
Take me with you, his mind whispered as Charlotte spoke, jaw set, voice grim.
“I’ve found Iosif,” she said, speaking of the mafia lieutenant who’d vanished not so long ago, her contact inside the organization. “I thought you might want to come with me and have a chat.” There was a chance he’d know if the Russian mob had anything to do with Femke’s disappearance and, as much of a long shot as that chance might be, I needed to find new ways to look for her.
“What do you say, Sass?” I looked down into his amber eyes. “Feel like a fieldtrip?”
His tail twitched, ears perked. “If I must,” he said in his most bored tone of voice.
Charlotte hesitated. “Maybe not where we’re going,” she said.
Sass and I both paused, stared. “And where would that be?”
“Las Vegas,” Charlotte said. “I believe Iosif is digging himself into the kind of trouble no one makes it out of alive.”
“Gambling?” Sassafras shook his head, fur puffing outward. “Stupid question.”
“Not at all,” Charlotte said. “Among other things. He’s changed his name and his appearance somewhat, so I can only assume he’s hiding from his Russian brethren. But it won’t be long before he outstays his welcome the way he’s trying to muscle in on local talent.”
“We could just leave him to crash and burn.” The silver Persian had never shared my suspicions about the possibility the mafia, frustrated by their expulsion from the werenation by none other than Femke herself, had been the source of the kidnapping. Despite mind wipes, it was possible some of the leaders had been missed or had sorcery protections of their own and maintained their knowledge of paranormals on our plane. And who knew what else.
No one had believed otherwise but me. And the ever supportive Charlotte.
The blonde werewoman shrugged, though she turned her blue eyes to me as she did. “Your call,” she said. “But I’m going, with or without you.”
That decided me. I set Sass on the floor, felt his tremor of sadness.
“You’re leaving me after all,” he said.
“Not a chance. Hold on to your tail.” I’d never done this before. I’d considered it, lay in bed at night thinking about how I might accomplish it. Failed to bring it up to Sass just in case I couldn’t make it work.
This seemed like the perfect time to try, after an amazing evening turned to a crash and burn of monumental proportions. I wanted my happy mood back again and this just might do it.
I couldn’t bring him with me in cat form. But as a human…
I was sure I had the logistics worked out in my head, so before I could hesitate and blow the whole thing I allowed my power to whisper outward, the demon in me linking with Sass, my family magic and his joining together even as my vampire, Sidhe princess and the dark flower blossoming of my sorcery all wove around him.
Sass gasped out loud as he grew, stretched, body shifting upward and erect, his front legs elongating and thickening as the rest of him did the same. Those amber eyes stared into mine, held me firm and still as my magic teased, cajoled and encouraged his fat Persian body into a shape unu
sual to it.
I remembered what he looked like as clear as day, his tousled black curls, the faint tan of his olive complexion. About my height and lean, long fingered hands with squared nail beds, narrow hips and a warm, full mouth. Magic came so easily to me, but this was different. I was asking of his physical form something it wasn’t meant to do. Unlike the werewolves to whom shapeshifting came naturally, I was asking his body to take on the stress not dissimilar to the drach, an entirely different process. When weres shifted, they replaced themselves. When the drach changed from dragon shape to human, both remained at once. There were so many times I’d felt the vastness of Max even in human form, the full weight of his dragon shape somehow coexisting in the same space.
I couldn’t make Sass a shapeshifter. I had no idea how, despite spending lots of time with Charlotte. It was built into who she was, not an add-on. And though the same was likely true of the drach, I had a deeper understanding of the first race, thanks to my blood ties.
His body struggled to comply, and yet, it obliged my power, though I could feel the tenuousness of its stability and how easily the magic could shatter, sending him down into his cat form again.
Sass tottered backward, one hand grasping mine as his entire center of gravity shifted. The cat he was glimmered around his edges, soft fur in the touch of his skin. His fingers were hot, his gaze wide and stunned, but the slow, wicked smile growing on his face made me smile in return.
I’d even thought to give him clothes. Jeans and black shoes and a nice button up he’d somehow managed to materialize with the tails hanging out. I exhaled softly, smiling in return, while he steadied himself and squeezed my hand.
“This is familiar,” he said. His voice was the same, amber eyes gone a deep brown shade with flecks of gold. He’d worn this body in my presence once before, when Dad took the ultimate chance, had attempted to use blood magic to send himself home to Demonicon. So long ago. I was still a teenager then. I felt old, suddenly, though Sass was much, much older than me. Seeing that face, that handsome, dark, sarcastic face, brought tears to my eyes for all the time passed.
