by Holley Trent
Claude didn’t think he was going to answer, but he took another step into the kitchen and muttered, “Too many.”
“You know, you wouldn’t have to resort to creative means to track down your children if you stuck around for their births.” Now Claude’s teeth ground. Papa hadn’t been around for his, but his mother had summoned him not long after and made the demon mark him, just in case he forgot later.
“That implies a degree of commitment I’m not comfortable with.”
“Did you hear that?” Jason chuckled and stood. He gave Claude a nudge with his elbow as he walked past to the stove. He snatched one of the cooling rolls from the rack. “He’s umpteen thousand years old, and he’s concerned about commitment. I say he has plenty of time for commitment.”
“That’s because he’s never wanted to commit.” Charles stepped into the kitchen via the back deck and slid the screen door closed. “Well, except to my mother. We all know how that turned out.”
Papa growled.
“I don’t. Do share,” Jason said.
“Oh.” Charles grabbed a roll, too, and leaned his butt against the sink. He gave their father a churlish grin. Years ago, he wouldn’t have dared, but Charles had grown increasingly bold with his derision to Papa since marrying Marion. He’d been bound to let it out sooner or later. Overdue, even. “You see, my theory was that my mother was the only woman he ever loved and that she didn’t love him back.”
Jason whistled low.
“Yeah, right? Can you imagine? The one time an asshole like him falls for someone, and …”
Charles’s eyes took on a faraway look, and he toyed with that roll in his hand idly.
“Is he okay?” Jason asked when Charles didn’t say anything for a while.
Claude chuckled. “Rule of thumb around here is if someone zones out, it’s probably because of psychic shit. We’re generally too much on high alert to let down our guards. I’m guessing Marion must be nearby.”
“No, she went with Ellery to get her cat,” Charles said, and he fixed his gaze on Papa. Claude knew they were conversing mind to mind, something Charles generally avoided with their father, but whatever they were saying was closed off to him.
And whatever Charles was saying made Papa’s cheek twitch.
The fact that Charles had made the discussion private meant that the contents were either embarrassing or distressing. But for which of them?
Charles bit into his roll, but didn’t break his gaze from Papa.
Papa looked away first and stared down at his watch.
“Have somewhere to be?” Claude asked.
“Not urgently.”
Claude swept an arm toward the table. “Then have a seat. You can pretend to be normal and eat something. Gail has the refrigerator full of leftovers.”
“Any chicken salad left?” Charles asked, and he already had the fridge door open.
Papa cleared his throat, and surprisingly took the seat Claude offered.
There seemed to be a collective breath-holding as he sat. He was a big demon, and that spindly chair Clarissa refused to let go of looked rather unsure of itself.
Pop!
Julia teleported into the kitchen with her infant charge on her hip, and her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Gulielmus. “Shucks.”
Charles grabbed her arm before she could pop back out. “Hey, sis. Hungry?” He pointed to the open chicken salad container. “Got crackers for that. You can give some to the little guy.” He wriggled his eyebrows.
“I just stopped in so he could play with Ruby for a while before dinner. I—”
Charles, wearing a grin nearly as wide and almost as dangerous as the Atlantic, took the baby. “Relax for a while. Pop was just asking about this little guy, weren’t ya, Pop?”
Papa’s nostrils flared.
Had the demon ever held a baby, including one of his own? He’d certainly had enough chances, given his extraordinary fertility.
“Uh, I don’t know …” Julia pressed her hands against her back and groaned. That kid was heavy as an anchor like his daddy, so it was no wonder a waif like her was feeling the effects of carrying him around all day. He was unbelievably clingy. There was attachment parenting, and then there was Kelly.
Charles plopped Kelly onto Papa’s lap and retreated to the fridge, whistling a jaunty little tune. “Ooh. Someone bought grapes.”
Julia shifted her weight nervously. She’d never had to spend much time around Papa, and she liked keeping it that way. Of course, Charles and Claude wouldn’t let him do anything to her, and Claude suspected Jason wouldn’t be keen on seeing her harmed either and he didn’t even know her.
One day, one of them should update the list of all the siblings and which ones weren’t demonic assholes.
Kelly stared up at his father with quiet wonderment, and Papa blanched. Neat trick for a demon.
“What’s his name?” Papa asked.
Charles and Claude both looked to Julia. This was her rodeo.
She cleared her throat and cast her big brothers a nasty look. “His name is Kelly.”
“Kelly?” Papa didn’t bother disguising his sneer. “You named him Kelly?”
Julia stamped her foot. “Well, you didn’t name him at all! You and his idiot mother abandoned him at the hospital! I gave him a good, strong name and I’ve been—” Her voice cracked and face flushed bright red. “I’ve been doing the best I can to raise him. He’s not my kid, but I love him anyway. You’d better be glad Calvin is a good man ’cause he could have said no, and where would your kid have been?”
She swept a hand toward the table.
“Oh, you don’t care. You never cared about any of us, so it wouldn’t have mattered where Kelly ended up. You would have found him on the streets one day and would only bother with him because you needed another incubus to do your dirty work.”
She stomped again.
“You can’t have him!”
Her voice had gotten so high at the end that even Papa flinched.
Silence was heavy in the kitchen. Claude turned his back to the room to hide his quiet chuckles. That look on Papa’s face was like nothing Claude had ever seen before. The demon wasn’t afraid of his powerful sons, but he was definitely wary of this shrieking cambion in a floral hippie dress.
Julia wouldn’t hurt a fly. She was too good. Maybe that’s what Papa was afraid of.
Finally, Papa broke the quiet. “Your mother never raises her voice, so I can’t imagine from whom you’ve inherited the proclivity toward bombastic dramatics.”
Claude turned in time to see Julia balling her hands into fists. She took one stomping step toward the table, and Charles pulled her back with a chuckle.
“Julia, honey, I can’t be certain, but I think he made a joke.”
Papa’s shoulders edged up ever so slightly in a gesture that could barely be called a shrug. “I think Kelly needs a new diaper.” He said the name as if it tasted as bad as what he smelled.
“Hmph.” Julia walked over and snatched him up. “I bet he does. You probably scared the piss out of him.”
Charles nudged Claude’s ribs. “Oh, shit. He made her curse mildly. She’s really mad.”
Julia stuck her tongue out at Charles and popped away.
Charles doubled over with laughter, and Claude couldn’t help but laugh, too, because it was just that infectious. He’d seen his brother sad and withdrawn for far too many decades, and Charles’s laughter was like a barometer of his mental health. He hadn’t stopped laughing, really, since Ruby was born and he gave Marion that huge honking diamond. She called it her “hillbilly ring” because it looked so fake.
Love seemed to be its own sort of magic. It brought changes in people that no other kind of power could. Claude had only scratched the surface of that lesson with Laurette. Yes, he’d loved her dearly, but what he felt for Gail was different. Gail was his other half. His purpose. If she weren’t, why was he hurting so much? He could hardly swallow due to his frayed nerves
and upset gut.
“You guys are a hoot,” Jason said. He popped the last bit of bread into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I hope you’ll invite me back for a barbecue or something when this mess is all over. My girlfriend’s not going to believe this shit.” He crooked a thumb toward Papa. “This guy popped in on us when we were in flagrante delicto, if you catch my drift. She’s probably losing her shit right now. I keep calling her, but she’s freaking out. I’d be surprised if she hangs in there. We’d just gotten together.”
“I doubt you’ll have any problems making her stick,” Papa said through clenched teeth. “Monogamy seems to be a sweeping epidemic amongst you kids.”
“Is that part of the reason you’re being stripped of your power? Because you can’t get us under control?” This time, there was no cheekiness in Charles’s voice, but there did seem to be a bit of residual venom. Keeping them in check had always been such a big deal to Papa before.
“No,” Papa said. “You’re all sorry excuses for cambions, but I daresay that it’s your choice to commit. It’s your life. Ruin it as you see fit.”
What?
Claude cut his gaze to Charles, who looked equally stunned.
“Did he just …”
“Besides, I have other children who want the power and favor if you don’t. What’s a few lost fools in love to me?” he added, but the damage was already done. It was more than just a few children. There were many who’d defected, and he wasn’t trying all that hard to rein them back in.
He’d stood up for them after all this time? After he’d killed Charles’s mother and Laurette and so many others to exert his control? Why?
Jason didn’t have their history or know the extent of Papa’s oppression, so it seemed suitable that he was the one to speak next.
“I don’t know this guy from Joe other than the fact I look a little like him, but my psychic Spidey sense says he’s got more ulterior motives than Imelda Marcos has shoes.”
Suddenly, Papa became very interested in the conditions of his cuticles.
“I know I’m the low man on the totem pole,” Jason said, “and I hope I haven’t overstepped my boundaries, but I called my mother and told her what I was up to. Pointless, because she already knew.”
“Fucking soothsayers,” Papa muttered.
Jason ignored him. “Ma says there’s something amiss about Gail’s car. There’s a reason beyond sentimental attachment Shaun wants it, though Ma couldn’t tell what.”
“Interesting,” Claude said.
“I hope you’re not angry at me for butting in.”
“Not at all,” Claude said. “Only fools refuse help given willingly.”
“Okay, well how about this, then?” Jason asked. “Why don’t we use the car as bait? Shaun wants it back, so give it to him. The wolves want to make up for losing Ross, so get a couple of them to keep an eye on Shaun and see what he does with the car.”
“It’s not a bad idea, newbie,” Charles said. He grabbed another roll and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe what’s in that car will lead us to Ross. When I get my hands on that little—”
“Are you fucking insane?” Claude shot his brother a withering look. “It’s not just the car that would be bait, but Gail along with it. I’m not letting her go anywhere near Shaun.”
“Because this situation will magically resolve on its own, right?” Papa scoffed. “Any path to resolution is likely going to involve your witch, so you’d better let that settle in, and fast. This is about her as much as it’s about the smudge in our family tree. If she can render aid, let her. That is, unless you prefer for her to wallow in self-pity for the rest of her life. That’s certainly up to you, but I could have sworn you wanted a woman this time who would fight back and not another Laurette.”
A blue flash—John’s teleport signature—flooded the room right as Claude stood to fling himself across the table at his father. “It’s all right,” John said quietly, with his strong arms forming a tight band around Claude.
He walked Claude a few paces back from the table. “I guess I popped in right on time, huh, bro?”
“Let go of me.”
“Nah. Just chill out. You’re not thinking straight. If you really wanted to hurt him, or free yourself from me, you’d use magic. Deep down, you don’t want to hurt anyone. You’re just angry, right? He hit one of your buttons?”
Claude nodded and met his father’s icy stare. Papa’s expression was inscrutable, but the hands he wrenched on his lap gave him away.
He was on edge, too. They all had something at stake here. It was easy to forget that.
Claude took a deep breath, and John let go of him.
“I’ll think about it. Using Gail, I mean.”
His father was probably right. He might not have a choice but to let her stand on her own. Like hell if he would let her out of his sight while she did it, though.
• • •
Claude nudged the bedroom door open gently, and startled at the sight of Agatha on Gail’s bed, holding the remote control in one hand and rubbing Gail’s head with the other.
She gave Claude the barest nod as he entered.
“When did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.”
“You shielded your energy. Why?”
“Do I look like I wanted all you aggressive apes to come running upstairs to see who’d popped in?”
Gail was asleep, or at least looked to be. Her face, atop Agatha’s lap, was puffy, and evidence of her tears had dried on her cheeks. The striped pillow had changed owners again, and Gail held it tightly in her arms over her belly. They’d probably forget which of them it belonged to at some point, it went back and forth so much.
Candy Corn scuttled out from under the bed and wound around Claude’s legs. Sighing, he picked her up and gave the attention-starved cat a squeeze. As keenly as he felt Gail’s distress, Candy Corn felt it too, though probably in a different way. Being a cat, she couldn’t fix it or even offer comfort unless Gail was willing to receive it.
“No. I imagine you don’t,” he said.
“I don’t think she’s going anywhere for a while,” Agatha said. She turned down the volume on the television and set down the remote.
“That may be a problem. I need her.”
“Whatever it is will have to wait.”
“This isn’t a situation where waiting would be prudent.”
“You want to use her as a decoy. A lure.”
He cringed. How she’d come to that conclusion on her own, he didn’t know, but her prescience was startling. “We don’t know what else to do. If we had any other options …”
“You have options, Claude. What you don’t have is time.”
“Fair enough.” He sat on the edge of the bed and set Candy Corn beside him.
Candy Corn crouched low, staring at Gail, then took a few tentative steps toward her. When Gail didn’t react, the cat curled up in front of her.
“I would prefer to wait and go about this a different way. I would like for Gail to have some calm in her life, especially with—”
Agatha shook her head. He didn’t need to say it. She already knew, and maybe she even blamed herself for it. If she hadn’t been keeping her descendants at arm’s length—no, a football field’s length—she might have seen Shaun for what he was. She might have intervened sooner.
“It can wait a day or two, don’t you think?”
Could it? They didn’t know what kind of hell Shaun was raising behind the scenes and whether or not Ross was gaining power by the day the same way Papa was losing it. Things could all get very messy in a matter of hours. Days seemed like an unacceptable risk.
But pulling Gail out of her depression before she had even begun to process it seemed like a worse one.
She was going to need to substitute all that self-loathing for something else if she was going to climb out of it. Vengefulness. Righteous indignation. Anger.
He had plenty of his own anger, but that was som
ething they couldn’t trade like power. She had to find her own.
Gail sighed in her sleep, and Agatha resumed her rubbing of her hair.
“I don’t know what changed the game, but Papa isn’t interested in harming her anymore.”
Agatha scoffed. “One less reason for me to try to kill him. I was on the fence about whether or not I wanted try for what he did to her last time, and Laurette wasn’t even mine. Prophesy or not, I’m not happy about what he did. It didn’t have to be him.”
“How do you know?”
“There’s always some room for interpretation in those things. It suited his purposes at the time that it be him dispatching her. I will say that if Laurette had been one of my descendants, I couldn’t have retaliated anyway as I was neutral. Not that it would have done me any good.”
“Because it had all been foretold.”
She nodded. “Our world is a political mess. We shake hands while crossing the fingers of our other hands behind our backs.”
“It’s exhausting.”
“Even for a goddess.”
He brushed his thumb over Gail’s cheek and rubbed away the tear track that had dried there. “I would protect her from all of this if I could, but that’s a mistake I made during her last life that I don’t intend to repeat. She deserves to know everything and to make her own choices, now that she has them.”
“You say that now, but have you forgotten that ring won’t come off? She has no choice there.”
He chuckled. “I guess I saw that as a sort of motivator for her. I think she knows now that she doesn’t need to draw on me. The ring was just a crutch. Soon, she’ll understand what her limits are and will constantly push them, but not overstep them. She’ll be able to borrow from me if she needs it, but I think she’s the kind of woman who won’t want to.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“I’ll leave her be for now. Will you be around a while?”
Agatha twined one of Gail’s abstract curls around her index finger. “I’ll be around forever.”
Her and him, both.
“Let me know if she wakes up soon, will you?”
“Of course.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
