by Dianna Hardy
Her mother laughed, and in her aged state, it sounded more like a cackle. “No. Oh, it’s complicated. I suppose I never wrote about him, because it never felt right to – he was always such a private person. He was my guardian. Your grandfather assigned him to watch over me when I turned eighteen – my own, personal chaperone.”
“Well, that would be typical of my grandfather, wouldn’t it?” snapped Elena.
“Hush, child. I would have done the same thing if you had behaved like me.
“My mother died of cancer when I was sixteen – there are some things even magic can’t fix. Your grandfather pretended he wasn’t going off the rails. I never bothered with pretending – I did go off the rails. Dad never spoke to me about Mum’s death. Not once. I was confused. I felt alone. One day, I heard him crying as I walked outside his study. I’d never heard him cry before. The door was ajar; I peered in and saw him clutching a photo frame, and I thought, maybe, just maybe I can begin to understand him. And then I saw that the photograph was not of my mother, but of someone else.”
Oh, shit … that would be Amy. Elena inwardly cringed. She had to remember not to let her mum meet Amy until she knew the whole story.
“That’s when I lost it. I rebelled at home; I rebelled at The Council. I stopped going to studies. Instead, I looked for every way I could find to hurt my dad, the same way he had hurt me that day.”
“Didn’t you ever ask him about the photo?”
Katherine threw her a wistful smile. “That would have been the sensible thing to do, Elena. But I never did. Like father, like daughter – I was never good at talking to him either. Is he … is he still around?”
“Yes he is, although… Well, that’s complicated too. Why don’t you tell me about Gwain first?”
Or maybe your mum would like to rest first, scolded the voice in her head. Bugger. How totally selfish to pummel her for information now… “Or maybe rest for a bit, then—”
“No resting. I’m finally talking to you after seventeen years…” A tear trickled down her sunken cheek. “Nothing’s more important than this.” Her mother’s face crumpled, and then Elena was in her arms, both of them crying, as if every tear could heal every minute they’d lost.
“Ellie,” she whispered.
She hadn’t called her that since before the ‘butterfly incident’. Fresh tears streamed down Elena’s face.
“I’m so, so sorry for everything I put you through. You were such a sweet child, you know that? So loving; so kind… You’d have healed the whole world if you could. I love you so much, Ellie; I always have.”
“I know, Mum. I’ve always loved you too.”
They sat like that, mother and daughter wrapped in each other’s arms, for what could never have been long enough. They sat there until Elena got an ache in her spine from the way she was leaning, and reluctantly had to move.
Her mother reached for the glass of water, seemingly a bit stronger now, and gulped half of it down. “Where were we?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Elena’s ear. “Ah … Gwain…”
She shook her head in memory. “In one way, there’s not much to tell. I exasperated him by always getting into trouble, and he exhausted himself trying to keep me out of it. Dad was obsessed with demons, so I decided I would be too. I think a part of me wanted to show him how much I hated his obsession. I discovered all about the seven tribes, and the Shanka fascinated me the most. On my eighteenth birthday, in an obstinate show of my coming into independence, I performed a spell that would call the Shanka to me.”
“You did what?”
“Yes, sweetie. It was I who sought them out, not the other way around. I was so very hard-headed – took after my mother. You’re more like your grandfather, you know.”
She had no idea what to make of that comment.
“After my spell, Dad sensed something was wrong, although he wasn’t sure what at first, but that man had some kind of sixth sense for demonic activity. That’s when he assigned Gwain to me. At some point over the course of the two years that I was his ward, Gwain started to hint at being in love with me. I’ve never believed it though. Oh, there were feelings, sure, but love? Whether true or not, it was unrequited – I had become infatuated with the Shanka King, Darius – your father.”
“You chose a Shanka demon over Gwain?”
“Elena.” She pulled on her hand, and Elena scooted closer to her on the bed. “I’m not sure what Gwain’s up to nowadays, but back then, he was lost. You must have seen that look he’s got – always a little distant; always just out of reach. He never told me that much about himself – other than those suggestions of love on his part, we kept our relationship strictly business – but, in his eyes, I could see a lot of what he kept hidden, particularly with my knack for clairvoyance. He used love – or at least the pretence of it – like a shield. When he told me he loved me, it was somehow to stop himself from getting hurt; when he told me he loved me, he was really saying it to somebody else. I have no doubt he’s got a lot of love to give, but … he’s an all or nothing kind of man, and whoever he’s supposed to be with can give nothing less in return, or she won’t survive him. There was no way that was going to be me.” She paused for a second, her gaze fixing on some portion of her past. “You know, I reached out and touched his soul once with my powers – it was sort of an accident, but I was too intrigued to pull away…
“What I touched horrified me. It felt like a vacuum, as if some crucial part of him simply wasn’t there. It was so vast, Elena. A part of him is tortured. Broken. Even if I had loved him, there wasn’t enough of me to fill that hole.”
Her mother gave her head a shake, and smiled at Elena, once again in the present. It occurred to Elena that in the past ten minutes, she’d seen her mother smile more than in the past seventeen years. Of that alone, she was grateful.
“So … it’s your turn.”
Her heart sped up a notch. This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to.
“Tell me about your grandfather – what’s been happening since I’ve been gone?”
~*~
Amy materialised in her living room, and half a second later wondered if teleportation was bad for the baby. Shit. Why hadn’t that crossed her mind?
Don’t stress, Amy – it’s not even the size of a pea yet.
Yeah, she argued with herself, but you’re already throwing up, and you shouldn’t be yet – not at two and a half weeks. Blinkin’ messiahs, and their supernaturalness…
How in heaven’s name was she going to bring up a messiah?
“Great,” she muttered to the silence, “let’s add ‘I’m going to be a bad mum’ to the long list of things to worry about.”
“You’re not going to be a bad mum.”
She jumped and screamed, whirled around, magicked the lights on, and froze when she saw Pueblo sitting at the bottom of the staircase. Honest to God, she didn’t know whether to throw herself in his arms, or beat the living crap out of him.
“You ran,” she blurted out, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.
“I did.”
And then she realised where he was.
“You ran here.”
He stared at her, sombrely, and she wished she could take back the past two hours. Sombre sucked. There was nothing better than happy Pueblo with a gleam in his eye as he teased her mercilessly. God damn it, he lit her world.
“I did,” he said. “Where else is there to go when you’re all I think about?”
She removed her scarf and coat, and flung them on her sofa. “Pueblo—”
“Don’t. Please. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be told you’re having another man’s child?”
“It’s your child.”
“It’s half my child. You slept with him.”
“I didn’t even know who I was! You know, technically and legally, I was his wife. It was before we made love in the desert, and for your information I was having a sexy dream about you when it happened.”
He looked up,
surprised. “You were?”
“Yes. Of course, I didn’t know it was you I was dreaming of, but isn’t hindsight the bitch that’s always late to the party.”
His mouth quirked up in a half smile, and she half-smiled back, resisting the urge to go to him. She didn’t want him fleeing again.
His smile wavered, then disappeared. “You’re soul-bonded to him.”
“I’m blood-bonded to you.”
“A soul-bond is ancient – it’s stronger than anything.”
“Stronger than choice? Stronger than my free will?” And then she couldn’t stop herself from approaching him any longer. She was still careful not to touch him though. She perched on the stairs, two steps down from him. “I choose to be with you, Pueblo. Isn’t that worth something? That you’re the one I want despite whatever direction our bonds try to pull us?”
“So you do feel yourself pulled towards him, then?”
A sigh escaped her. “I’ve never lied to you—”
“You didn’t tell me about Elizabeth’s memories.”
“Because I was trying to gather myself and make sense of it all, not because I was lying. I had every intention of telling you … and if you had outright asked me if I remembered her life, or if I’d slept with Paul, I would have told you the truth.”
“Are you pulled towards him?”
Maybe this was the apocalypse, happening right here in her living room.
She hugged a knee into herself. “Yes.”
“Do you love him?”
“I don’t not love him.”
“What? Amy—”
“That’s the truth. I don’t know whether I love him, okay? Elizabeth did love him, but the feelings I have – everything we’ve been through – they’re just so bloody complicated, I can’t make head or tail of them... but I know that I don’t not love him. That’s the best way I can think of to put it. I’m sorry if you need something clearer, but I don’t have that clarity right now.”
He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples.
“I do know that I love you, though. And I can promise you that I will never sleep with him again.” Emotion rocked her voice. “Pueblo, you’re my future. The way I feel about you is hope, and passion, and life, and heat… I wanted you the first time I ever laid eyes on you, before I took your blood, and I want you to be this baby’s father. You’re the only one who can be. Paul’s dying. He said so himself: he’s here to see the birth through, and then he’s gone.”
“You want to keep the baby?”
She reeled so far backwards, she almost fell off the step.
Does he not?
Getting rid of it hadn’t even entered her mind – she hadn’t really had much time to think about anything at all. Could you even abort a messiah?
Abortion?
She had no issues with any woman making that choice for herself, but the thought of abortion for her own child was never something that had sat comfortably with her. “Yes, I want to keep it,” she whispered, her hand already clutching her womb.
“Why?” he asked, harshly, angry fire lighting his eyes. “After everything he’s put you through, the way he violated your mind, stole your childhood... why would you want to keep a baby that has anything to do with him?”
She sat there, shocked at the hatred behind his words, even though she could see where they stemmed from. She shook her head. “Are you upset with the half of the baby that’s his, or the half that’s yours?”
Raging desperation contorted his features. “Amy, it’s going to rip its way out of you – because of me! What my father did to my mother … I’ve now…” His whole frame shook… “I’ve now done it to you.”
“What?” She jumped up to standing and gripped his face in her hands, forcing his head up so his eyes met hers. “Is that what you think?”
“I should never have made you drink my blood that first time—”
“I was there – I made a choice. I knew there’d be consequences, and there was no making me do anything. Have you ever tried to make me do anything? Clearly not, because you’d bloody well know it isn’t possible.”
He blinked, and his eyes glistened.
“Do you really want to know why I want to keep this baby?”
He nodded.
“Because it has no past. It has no history. None of what came before is the baby’s fault. Why would I pass the sins of the father onto the child? Every baby born has the potential to grow into a loving, decent person. To get rid of it is to take that potential away; to deny it the chance to shine because of a taint I chose to burden it with. I won’t do that to our baby. That’s why I want to keep it, and that’s why your mother kept you.”
He blinked again, and tears free-flowed down his face.
She was right there with him. “I can tell you right now that she made the right choice, because you are loving, and decent, and kind. You can hide it behind that growly panther of yours all you like, but I know you…”
A small smile took root on his face, but it didn’t have the chance to go anywhere because she was kissing him, and he was kissing her back, and for once, their kiss wasn’t passion-fuelled, all-consuming heat, but soft, slow and gentle, fuelled by her compassion, and a love for him which she felt beyond their blood bond.
They kissed like that for a few long minutes, at the foot of her stairs. When she finally pulled away, she could see that he was calmer. Not only that, but his shoulders were straighter, and there was a hardened edge to his jaw that signalled he’d come to a decision about something. Whatever it was, she was glad for it … and she hoped it was baby-positive.
“I have something for you,” he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace.
Amy stared at it, dumbstruck. Holy shit, it was beautiful! The stone that sat in the gold frame of the pendant looked like sapphire, and it glistened under her ceiling lights like nothing she’d ever seen before. She immediately wondered how it would look glistening under the desert sun.
“This was my mother’s. It’s the only thing I really have that reminds me of her. She was brave and strong, just like you. I’d like you to have it.”
Her eyes felt like they might pop out of her head. Say something, you blonde bimbo! “I … don’t know what to say … Pueblo, it’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”
He unclasped it, and she held her hair up for him as he placed it around her neck. Wowza. It sat just above her breasts, in line with her heart.
“I knew it would bring out the blue of your eyes,” he uttered, softly. “It looks stunning on you, Amy.”
“I feel like a queen,” she said, and then she laughed because it was a bit of a stupid thing to say.
He didn’t.
“What is it?” she asked, and suddenly she knew. Every facet of the puzzle she wasn’t aware existed, fell into place, and a new path, that hadn’t been there just seconds ago, paved itself in front of them. “No.”
“Sshhh…” He placed a finger on her lips, then kissed her again.
“Pueblo—”
“You, and now this baby,” he placed his hand on her womb, and she thought she might be melting from the waist down, his hand felt so good there – so right.
Oh, my God, we’re going to have a baby!
“—you both matter to me more than anything else in the world.” His eyes hardened, and his voice lowered to those threatening bass notes she always found so sexy. “My tribe tried to kill you. There is no way in hell I’m sitting back and watching them do it again. I’ve spent my whole life running from what I am. By default, that’s meant running from my tribe, and what’s rightfully mine. I’ve never cared what they’ve taken from me before. I care now. They can’t have my family.”
“Pueblo, please—”
“I’m going to be a dad.”
God help her, he lit up with joy as he said it. Her heart soared, but so did her fear.
“My child deserves a safe upbringing – apocalypse allowing – and its mother deserv
es a kingdom.”
Holy fuck… “I’ll settle for the necklace—”
“Enough.” It was more of a gentle assertion than an order – the kind that said he’d made up his mind. “I don’t know how long it will take me, but I’m taking back my dimension, and whatever happens, I’ll be with you when our child is born. You’re not dying, Amy. Not because of my fear, and not because of my tribe.”
“They’ll kill you. How are you going to take on all of the Dessec? And that twisted-nut shaman?”
“I think I know where to find help.” He stood up.
Alarm bells went off in her head. “You’re going now? You’re leaving me?”
“I’m not leaving you,” he growled, then grabbed her and kissed her hard. “I’ll never run from you again, I swear it, but time isn’t on our side here, and there’s no way I’m going to try and bend it with an apocalypse imminent – God knows what might happen.” He took a deep breath, then looked her in the eye.
Goosepimples raced up and down her flesh. The Dessec she loved with the mischievous edge was still there, but the sea of shadows that had haunted him, now parted for him, and it was the Dessec King who walked through them.
“That man I detest is standing outside in your communal garden, pretending to find foliage interesting at four in the morning.”
“Paul?” she frowned. “I told him I wanted to be alone.”
“And I’m glad he didn’t listen to you.”
Her eyes widened. “You are?”
“I want you to go back to Karl’s, and he’s to make sure you get there safely.”
“But—”
“I know you want your own space, but it’s the end of the world, Amy.”
Silence filled the room.
Pueblo let out a little sigh. “Not that I think the world will actually ‘end’ as such…
“There have been lots of earth tremors tonight – not usual for this country. I logged onto the internet on my phone while I was waiting for you. It’s not just here – New Mexico, China, Iceland, Australia – there have been mini-earthquakes everywhere. I think it’s begun.”
She gaped at him, unable to form words.
He reached for her again, and pulled her into an embrace. “The Earth will rumble and shatter, and all dimensions will bleed into one… It’s killing me that I can’t be here with you, at the end of all things,” he whispered, “but next time the Dessec come for you, they’ll bring the whole tribe – thousands strong – especially if the dimensions fall because there’ll be nothing parting them from us, and they’ll have nothing to lose. I have to go, so we can all survive.”
