by April White
Her voice was even quieter when she continued. “He always seemed to find me whenever I stepped outside the manor, and I made up excuses to cross his path several times a day. It became a dance between us. A glance, a smile, some clever comment to make him laugh. I once twisted my ankle trying to climb a tree for a perfect apple, and when he found me struggling to make my way home, he wrapped my ankle in his own shirt so carefully and so tenderly, I felt as though I were made of glass. After that he always brought whatever fruit he could forage from the fields around the manor – always with a posy of wild lavender.”
Millicent had a faraway smile on her face as she twirled the stalk of lavender. “My mother encouraged me – perhaps she recognized that I was already becoming set in my ways and therefore unlikely to marry. But my father could only see the possibility of his mixed blood, his Irishness, and his lack of title. It was he who planted the idea in my head that my field-working ex-pilot would never be able to support me in the manner a woman of my station would be expected to maintain. He impressed upon me that as the last Elian, I would be Family Head after my mother, and no man whose title or worth was less than mine would ever accept my position of power.”
My mother sucked in a breath. She’d never heard this story before either. Millicent’s voice caught on her next words. “So I set a test for him. I told him I could only marry a man who had made something of himself, a man with more ambition than bringing me wildflowers.”
My mom exhaled softly. “Oh, Millicent.”
“It was cruel, and so unjust. The hurt in his eyes cut slashes across my heart as he looked away, bowed his head, and said he’d trouble me no more.” Millicent took a deep, shaky breath and caught my eyes. “I had wounded his pride, you see. I let him believe that there was nothing I needed from him that he could give. I was wrong though. So wrong. What I didn’t know then was that without someone to care for the woman, all the status and titles in the world couldn’t replace the need for another’s arms to comfort me when the weight of responsibility became too heavy to bear alone.”
Millicent’s words came out in a whisper. “Even as the words left my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake.” Her eyes hadn’t left mine. “So don’t ever believe, like I did, that you don’t need care. It may seem unnecessary or even superfluous because you’re strong and capable, but I promise you, its absence would leave a hole in your life that no amount of self-reliance can fill.”
Tears pooled in my eyes, and I realized that words couldn’t take away the pain that Millicent had lived with for more than half a century. So instead I kissed her cheek. “Thank you for that,” I whispered.
Millicent wiped at her own eyes and laughed a little at the fact that my mom had just done the same. “I’ve never told anyone that story. It feels a little … lighter to let some of it go.”
She stood and brushed off her trousers. “So, I gather the reason this has come up now is that your young man is struggling with your kidnapping and his inability to stop it?”
I let out a frustrated breath. “Maybe that’s at the root of it, but he did stop it. He put his body in the way and then got shot for his trouble, and here I am – not trapped somewhere with a group of the mixed-bloods we’re trying to find.”
Millicent looked hard at me. “You wanted to be taken to them, didn’t you?”
My mom’s eyes were locked on me when I blurted. “I don’t know. Maybe?”
Mom gasped, but Millicent didn’t blink. “You thought you’d be able to Clock them out, a few at a time, right under the Mongers’ noses.” There was no question in her tone, and I finally nodded.
“Bob said they had tied your hands behind your back,” Mom said. I nodded. “And you thought they would cut the ties once they had dumped you, even though Seth Walters knows you’re a Clocker?”
“He doesn’t know that I can draw my own spirals.”
“He’s not stupid, Saira,” Millicent said. “All he would have had to do was threaten to kill everyone he’d taken if you so much as set foot out of his sight, and you would have been as trapped as they all are. He’ll have cameras on them – he’d be a fool not to – and you were his prized prisoner. How easily he could have made you do things against your will – all he would have had to do was hold a gun to one child’s head.” She spoke the words in such a reasonable, straightforward tone there was nothing I could push back against. She was right, and she saw in my eyes that I knew it, so she went in for the kill.
“There’s a part of you that resents Archer for having ridden in on his white horse to rescue you, because you felt very certain you could rescue yourself – and about forty people with you.” Her eyes were boring into mine, and despite every instinct I had that said run, I didn’t look away. “Here’s the truth, Saira. He didn’t ride in to rescue you because you needed him to. He believes in your strength, he knows your skills, he trusts you. No, Archer put himself in the way of a bullet because it’s what he needed to do. And, whether you accept it or not, you needed him to do it too.”
“Not pulling punches today, are you, Millicent?” I tried for a joking tone, but I wasn’t joking.
She smirked. “It’s not in my nature.” That smirk was so out of character for the stately matriarch of the Elian Family that I couldn’t help smiling in spite of the brutal truths she’d just laid on me.
“Well, thank you. I’ll get over the bruises, but consider the lesson learned.”
“Really?” She peered closely at me. I nodded, and then she gave me a proper smile. “Good. There’s one other thing I’ll say before I’ve hit my quota for advice for the year. The only difference between men and women is everything, and that’s what keeps things so interesting.”
The Foil
Ringo found me in the garage watching Jeeves teach Connor how to change the oil in the Rolls. I had no doubt Connor could have described the process step-by-step from what he’d read in a book, or seen in a tutorial, but it was really good to see him make his hands do what his brain knew was right.
“Jeeves, could ye take me and Saira into town?” Ringo said.
Jeeves looked up in surprise. “Have you cleared it with the Ladies Elian?”
“We will,” I said. “And I can Clock us home. I just haven’t seen the fencing gym where we’re going.” Clocking as a mode of transportation felt like cheating, but I wasn’t really so confident about vehicular return trips at the moment. Jeeves must have sensed my thoughts because he considered for a moment before answering.
“I’ll take you in the Rolls.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “There are no automatic door locks in the Rolls.”
Relief washed over me. Jeeves understood my fear about being locked into another car by a driver under the influence of the Monger ring, and he didn’t take it personally. “I can’t imagine Walters would come out here – not while he’s in hiding.”
Jeeves nodded. “My feelings as well. And despite the threat, I strongly believe that none of us can afford to become prisoners in this house.”
In a way, Jeeves was overcoming his own fears too. In light of my recent conversations about a man’s need to care for the people he was responsible for, I guessed it had been really hard on Jeeves to have that instinct subverted by the Monger ring.
I turned to Ringo. “I’ll just get some things and meet you back here after I talk to Mom.”
He nodded. “The bag of gear’s outside. I’ll wait ‘ere.” Ringo crouched down next to Connor and they immediately started talking car to each other. I ran back into the manor and up to my room.
The daggers Archer had given me were tucked away in my dresser drawer. I slipped them into special leg holsters that fit under my jeans, and I instantly felt safer and more dangerous. It was similar to the way I felt when Archer had my back, and the thought of his satisfied expression if he ever heard me say that out loud made me smile.
Finding my mom took a bit longer than I expected. She and Mr. Shaw were together in his lab having what looked like a fairly intense
conversation, which they broke off when I came in the door.
I looked at them oddly. “What’s up?”
My mom seemed unsettled. “In light of what happened yesterday, the Armans want us – the Council – to unite against the Rothchild family and oust Markham from his place as Monger Family Head. They’ve called a special Descendant Council meeting to vote on it.”
I stared at her. “Oh crap. Mom, don’t go.”
Mr. Shaw growled. “That’s what I told her too.”
Possible scenarios were swirling around in my brain. “What if Markham has the Monger ring now that Seth Walters has gone underground. He could compel all of you to dance a jig and there would be nothing you could do to stop him.”
“But if I don’t go, Camille won’t have the numbers to carry the day. Removal of a Family Head must be unanimous, plus there has to be another Monger ready to step in with at least sixty percent Family approval.”
I shuddered. “I don’t even want to know six Mongers, much less find the sixty percent to vote some new bad guy in.”
My mom sighed. “Mongers aren’t evil masterminds, Saira. Nothing is as black and white as that.”
“I don’t actually know any good Rothchilds, so my empirical evidence says otherwise.”
She shook her head. “In any case, there’s a process to removing a Family Head, but that begins with a Council vote.”
“I don’t think I’ll feel good about anything the Council does until there are mixed-bloods in the room.” Both of them stared at me suddenly. “What?” I asked.
Mom looked at Mr. Shaw with wide eyes. “Do you think it would work?”
“What would work?” I had obviously said something momentous, and I hated not knowing what it was.
Mr. Shaw answered my mom. “It would have to be timed with a vote to remove the moratorium. Otherwise we’d never get the Families to approve the new Heads.”
“What are you guys talking about?” I raised my voice to get their attention, and it finally seemed to work. My mom turned to me with the beginnings of a smile.
“You have to become the Clocker Head.”
“Wait, what? No. No, I’m not Head material. You’re the Head. I don’t do politics.” If I could have backpedaled out of the room, I would have.
She explained. “We’d have to replace all three non-Monger Heads with mixed-bloods, and then fill the Council room with them as well. Then we could vote anything through and the Mongers couldn’t compel us otherwise.”
A feeling of dread flooded through me, because I knew it was actually a decent plan. “I hate your plan, and I can see a million things you’d have to do first, like find the missing mixed-bloods and get them out. And here’s something to chew on while you consider your Council coup: why isn’t Death represented at Council? If you’re doing away with the moratorium against mixed-bloods why not do the same for Vampires?”
My mom looked at me for a long moment, and I wondered if she was actually hanging on to the old prejudice, despite knowing Archer. She finally spoke. “I believe Ringo’s analogy of the frog in boiling water works in this instance too. Let’s get mixed-bloods on the Council first. Once they are recognized and fear of their unique skills diminishes, integration should be relatively painless, particularly as you’re all loved Family members already. I’m afraid the Vampires have known less love and much more fear, at least in the last five hundred years. That will take more effort and patience to undo.”
“But you’ll try? Eventually, I mean. After the immediate threat of the Mongers is neutralized, and when no one is ‘mixed-blood,’ we’re all just Family?”
My mom touched my face gently. “Yes, we’ll try.”
I hadn’t even considered the idea of Archer being able to step out openly among Descendants, and I thought back to how easily Bas, the Vampire student of world religions, had hung out with the Shifter priest at the fifteenth century French church. He seemed unfazed to be a Vampire, though he did miss the Shifter skills that were no longer dominant in him.
I turned my attention back to my mom. “So, what about this Council meeting? I’ll go for you if I have to, but I’m still on their hit list.”
“You’re not going either,” Mr. Shaw growled.
I smiled at him, but with a light warning in my tone. “Careful. You start telling Elian women what we can and can’t do, we get a little stubborn.”
“Oh, it’s a conversation we’ve had. It’s just his inner caveman holding his club and looking around for people to bop on the head.” My mom’s tone of voice held a wink, and I realized she dealt with exactly the same male need to protect as I did. I barely contained the smirk.
“Mom, I know you’ll do what you feel you need to do, and if you do go to the meeting and the ring comes out, you can stick your fingers in your ears, or get one of the MacKenzie boys to tackle the Monger wearing it so you can Clock yourself out of there. Whatever support you need from me, I’ll be very happy to give you.”
My mom breathed out a happy sigh. “That was exactly what I needed to hear, Saira. Thank you. I believe I’ll call Camille and see what sort of diplomacy I can accomplish on the phone.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I stood to leave.
She looked at me questioningly. “You seem to be going somewhere.”
I knew this was going to hit every one of their protective instincts, so I deliberately kept my tone as calm and casual as possible. “After the conversation we had about Mongers last night, Ringo got himself into Raven’s fencing class this afternoon. She’s never seen Ringo before, so he’s going to try to work some of his Ringo charm on her. I’m not wild about him going on his own, so obviously, I’d have to stay out of Raven’s sight. We Googled the building, and we have a plan for that. Remember, I can Clock home at the first sign of a threat.” I hoped the expression on my face was one of earnest trustworthiness, or, at a minimum, responsible adultness.
Mr. Shaw’s jaw was clenched tightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just looked at my mom for her reaction. “I can’t say I love the idea, Saira, because as capable and grown up as I know you are, you’re still my daughter, and my instinct to keep you safe is deeply ingrained.” We shared an understanding smile at those words. “But I trust you to know what you need to do and to do it carefully. I assume Archer knows of this plan?”
I nodded, hiding my relief. “He’s kind of the one who suggested it, but they don’t have night classes, or he’d go. He trusts me to be Ringo’s invisible safety net, and we can always call you guys if we need back-up.”
Mom sighed. “Have Jeeves take you so he knows exactly where you are.”
“I’ve already asked him. He said he’d bring the Rolls.”
She grimaced. “I hate that he feels he needs to consider which car is safest.”
“We’re all going to be dealing with the aftermath of that attack for a long time, I’d imagine.” Mr. Shaw sounded gruff and unhappy.
I nodded. “I’m going to be a lousy taxi passenger for a while, I think. Anywhere but the front seat of a moving vehicle is going to be tough for me.”
He pulled me in for a quick one-armed hug, then kissed the top of my head. “Be careful, take your mobile, and let us know when you return.”
I shot them both a grin as I headed toward the door. “I will.”
Ringo met me back at the garage, the bag of fencing gear in one hand and his eyebrows raised in question. “I told them where we’re going.”
He nodded. “Good. I was going to ‘ate if I’d ‘ad to disobey yer ma.”
I laughed. “No wonder she loves you so much. You’re like a dream son.”
Ringo’s face lost all trace of humor. “It’s been a long time since I was a son.”
The seriousness in his tone made my heart hurt for him. He bent to mess with the string on his bag and didn’t meet my eyes, so I touched his arm. “Come on, let’s get Jeeves and go.”
I sat up in the front seat next to Jeeves, and he dropped us off one block behind th
e building that housed Raven’s fencing gym.
“If you’d rather not use your own mode of return transportation, you both have my mobile number. Please call me when you want to leave and I’ll meet you back here with the Rolls,” said Jeeves.
“Thanks. We’ll probably be an hour or two, but come and get us early if the Armans get to Elian before we call.”
Jeeves nodded seriously. “Yes, Ma’am.”
I smiled at him. “I’m not nearly fancy enough to be a ma’am.”
“I disagree. You are quite suited to the honorific.” Jeeves gave me a slight smile in return as we got out of the Range Rover. Ringo and I immediately slipped down the side alley and watched Jeeves drive away without incident, then we headed toward the back of the gym. Just as we’d seen on Google Earth, the fire escape extended all the way to the ground floor, and the back of the building was without windows. I checked the clock on my phone.
“You have ten minutes to get changed for the session. I’ll see you in an hour.” Ringo must have been able to see the worry in my eyes because he tossed his chin at me to get my attention.
“I’m not the one in danger here, no matter how good ‘er fencin’ skills are, so quit lookin’ like I’m goin’ off to war.” He laughed at the face I made. “No, strike that. I’m goin’ off to make friends with War, or maybe just kick ‘er arse.”
“Have fun storming the castle.” I leapt up to the fire escape ladder and began my ascent, laughing at the look of bewilderment on Ringo’s face. Clearly there needed to be a screening of The Princess Bride in his future.
It took me a bit to get settled at the edge of the big skylight that looked down on the main practice floor, and a few minutes later, Ringo entered the room holding his helmet and foil. He went over to talk to a young woman I thought was one of the students, and I realized suddenly that I hadn’t ever shown him a picture of Raven.
