by Patti Larsen
Unseelie Ties
Book Fourteen of the Hayle Coven Novels
Patti Larsen
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2013 by Patti Larsen
Find out more about Patti Larsen at
http://www.pattilarsen.com/
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***
Cover art (copyright) by Valerie Bellamy. All rights reserved.
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Edited by Annetta Ribken, freelance Goddess. You can find her at http://www.wordwebbing.com/
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Chapter One
Class bored me. Mostly. How could I possibly take interest in the chain reaction of fire, water, earth and air through tiny little samples on a glass slate when I'd flown with dragons, fought demons and evil witches, battled vampire queens, and almost died doing it? I sighed, chin on my fist as my lab partner, Tippy Meeks, prodded the small clump of dirt to start the show.
“Observe,” Mr. Howermall, my Elemental Interactions teacher said in his low, dull voice devoid of anything resembling excitement or enthusiasm. Tippy tossed her thick red hair over one shoulder and crossed her eyes at me. She was the only saving grace in this entire stupid class. “Earth and water are in opposition.”
Right. I was supposed to be watching as Tippy's magic nudged the hovering droplet of water over the loose soil, scattering it. Wow. How awesome was that?
Sarcasm, my best friend.
One week into my second year of witch’s college and here I was wishing something really awful would happen just so I'd have an excuse to get out of this boring class.
Tippy winked and fluttered her fingers over the mess she'd made. A little clay man rose from the mix, dancing a jig on the glass while giving Mr. Howermall the finger.
Oh my, yes. Much, much better.
I pressed both hands over my mouth to stifle my giggling and made a fake angry face at Tippy who let the tiny mud man collapse.
Seriously. This was basic stuff, for babies. Okay, okay, so I hadn't exactly been the best student growing up, but if this was all we learned in college, I was so ready to call it a day and head for home.
“Now,” Mr. Howermall said, “introduce air to your experiment.”
I gestured at Tippy as she raised one hand. My turn. Mr. Howermall wanted air in there, huh? I could handle that. A tiny tornado danced its way into life, complete with a softly echoing howl. Tippy raised her mud man again and we both nearly collapsed into laughter as the twister lifted him up and spun him like a top. Bits of mud flew out of the tornado to splatter Tippy's shirt. Still giggling, I raised a shield to protect us, too late. She brushed her hand over the tight white t-shirt she wore, the mud falling to the counter. “Bite Me” glared back from the pair of ruby lips balanced on her impressive cleavage.
Her voluptuousness always made me wonder if I could do a little enhancement of my own. Not that I was flat or anything, but I felt more than inadequate when I stood next to her.
Then again, I didn't have guys staring at my chest instead of in my eyes. Not that Tippy minded. Thus the t-shirt.
“Excellent.” Mr. Howermall didn't even leave his desk to observe us, instead leaning his rounded belly against the back of his chair, face as disinterested as his voice. “Next, apply fire to the other three and record your findings.”
If I didn't get to do something challenging soon, I was going to lose my mind. All of the things that happened to me over the last three years or so left me a little jaded. Okay, more than a little. I leaned back, my good humor fading, and let Tippy introduce fire into the tornado. Mud man shook, expanded and then exploded outward, splattering the inside of the shield with his clayness.
“Ew.” Tippy's eyes glittered with wickedness. “Let's do that again.”
I laughed softly, keeping my head down, though I was now firmly convinced Mr. Howermall wouldn't have left his desk or noticed we were up to no good even if his ass was on fire. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“You're no fun,” she pouted, her wide, full lips pulling down, glowing with lip gloss. And then she smiled and prodded me. “Just kidding,” she said. “This is lame.”
“Really?” I glared at Mr. Howermall. “I hadn't noticed.”
Sashenka Hensley, my roommate and bestie, turned around from two desks up to roll her eyes at me. I would have chosen her for a lab partner in a second, if Mr. Howermall hadn't assigned us. At least I had Tippy. Poor Shenka was stuck with Richard Neuman, a Santos witch. I didn't have anything against him, per se, but he was the clumsiest guy with magic I'd ever met. After being stuck beside him in Mixed Magicks lab last semester dodging flying power, I felt Shenka's pain, but didn't love her enough to trade places.
She had to learn life sucked sometimes.
Snort.
I watched her carefully handle her klutzy partner and my mind went to our conversation from the summer. Shenka's desire to leave her coven led me to talk to her about being my second, something she'd seemed excited about when she mentioned it again at Sunny and Uncle Frank's wedding. But every time I brought it up since starting back to school, she made an excuse or changed the subject.
She changed her mind, was my only guess. And as much as I wanted her to be my second, needed one thanks to Gram's prodding, and knew Shenka was the perfect choice, I understood her reluctance. Her older sister, Tallah, was my friend, one of the only younger witches leading covens that I knew. The last thing I wanted was to make enemies of the Hensley coven by stealing Shenka away. But if she wasn't happy, it had to be detrimental to the family.
Still, I understood. But it made me feel sad and a little frustrated.
“You've been sighing all class,” Tippy whispered as she swept the mess from table with air magic and into the trash. “Either tell me what's up or stop breathing.” She winked once, twining a lock of red curls around her finger.
“Things don't always work out the way you want them, I guess.” I shrugged. “My grandmother's been pushing me to recruit a second so she can hand off the rest of the family power.”
I might as well have told Tippy her favorite rock band stood right behind her. Green eyes lit up and widened, one hand grasping mine, her perfectly manicured and very sharp nails digging into my wrist as she leaned close with a smile growing across her face. I understood my mistake almost immediately.
“Syd,” Tippy said, voice quivering with emotion, “I would love. Yes. Love. To audition to be your second. LOVE.” She bounced on her stool, still clinging to me. “I've been wanting to leave my family and make my own mark. And your coven...” she whistled softly before sobering a little. “I know you can't just choose me,” she said. “That we'll have to talk about it. But,” she grabbed me again, grin as big as ever, “I'd be honored if you'd let me try out.”
Like she was applying to be a cheerleader.
Oh boy.
Before I could say anything, a deep, echoing chime rang. Mr. Howermall sighed and actually looked relieved himself. “Dismissed.”
I rose and moved to the softly opening door, Tippy chattering away beside me while I inwardly cringed at the thought of having her as my second. I adored her, of course I did. She was one of the few friends I chose to have who didn't judge me or treat me differently. Unlike most of the rest of the student body who were either afraid of me or hated my guts for v
arying reasons having to do with family attachments.
I let Tippy talk, retreating as I considered the problem. While I wouldn't likely choose her, I knew I did have to make a decision. Any idea of doing what Tallah did and picking my own sister was out of the question. Not only was Meira more demon than I was on the outside, forced to hide her red skin and black horns, not to mention her glowing amber eyes behind a facade of humanity, she and I weren't really on talking terms at the moment.
Ever since her return from Demonicon, Meira was different, darker and more on edge. I hardly blamed her for the change. She'd been purposely hooked on nectar by Sassafras's evil mother, Sekaniphestat, used by Ameline to track and try to stop me from blocking Ameline's way to the Node keeping Demonicon together. And I hadn't been there for Meira, to protect her. To keep her safe.
Guilt, thy name is Syd.
But even if she forgave me and didn’t act distant and cold when I managed to track her down, she was now heir to the Second Seat of Demonicon. That position trumped the coven.
My heart hurt thinking about my little sister. Now aged beyond her normal eleven-year old appearance thanks to the nectar, Mom decided sending her off to a different school for the year would be a good change for her. Which meant sending Meira to Europe, living with Council Leader Applegate. Yes, I could have reached her at any point, even ridden the veil across territories to visit. But she'd made it pretty clear when we'd parted just before I came to Harvard she needed space.
Namely, by closing me out completely.
I took the hint and the hit to my guilt and let her go.
Even worse, my ever-present support system, my silver Persian demon boy Sassafras, was on Demonicon for the next few weeks. An invitation to help Dad and my grandfather solidify their new rule wasn’t something he could turn down. As much as I knew it was a huge honor and Sass was excited to go, I missed him every single day.
He deserved a life. Of course he did. I just wished he could live it around me at the moment.
I caught Shenka's eye as we cleared the exit to Coven Hall and passed through to the library on our way to lunch. She smiled, slowed to wait for me, even as my gaze drifted past her to a girl with long, black hair.
Ameline. No, of course not. The girl turned to smile at her companion, showing me her profile. Not my nemesis. And yet, the reminder was a jab to my guts and, I knew, the source of my discontent with attending college.
What did school matter when I should be out there hunting down Ameline Benoit?
And killing her.
***
Chapter Two
Bloodthirsty thoughts aside, I slid into a seat at our favorite table beside Liam, who beamed up at me, half-rising as I joined him. My handsome Sidhe friend leaned in to hug me with one arm while Tippy took the seat next to him. I felt him tense the moment she did, how his arm fell away, the sparkling green in his hazel eyes fading. His head dropped, strawberry blonde hair falling over his face as Tippy leaned up against him with a broad wink.
“Thanks for saving us seats, handsome.”
Okay, she was never, ever, ever going to be my second. And if she didn't stop pressing her gigantic rack against his arm I was going to tear her a new one.
Temper, temper, Syd.
Shut up, conscience.
Fortunately, there was enough room I slid over a little, allowing Liam to pull away from the aggressive redhead while I clenched my teeth against my unwarranted jealousy. How many times had I told Liam we couldn't be together? And yet, I still went a little—okay a lot—crazy when Tippy hit on him.
Who had the real problem, then?
Good thing we weren't alone. Sashenka sank down beside me as my bodywere, Charlotte, hovered behind. There were times I almost forgot she was around these days. Not because she disappeared on me or anything. Quite the opposite. But since my second—and then third—trip to Demonicon, Charlotte had become colder, more detached, and I knew my absence hurt her feelings as well as her physiology. Thanks to the link she'd created between us, some kind of ridiculous ritualistic honor bond, she suffered if I wasn't with her 24/7. Like it was my fault. We'd had to tie her down when I went back to Demonicon for my demon grandmother's funeral.
She hadn't forgiven me since then. In fact, she'd dyed her long, blonde hair jet black and taken to wearing a lot of eyeliner and mascara. I seemed to recall she was a redhead like Tippy when we met, but when I asked Charlotte about it, she simply shrugged. “So I like to color my hair,” she snapped, sullen and sulky.
I hadn't responded past a meeped, “It looks really nice,” leaving it at that.
I wished she'd just sit with us. She made my life even more uncomfortable when she hovered like she did. Made me feel really visible. As in, oh look, there's the puffed up princess, Sydlynn Hayle, who thinks she's so special she has a bodyguard.
Sigh.
I dissected my sandwich with twitching fingers, feeling a little sorry for myself, when Tippy went and opened her big mouth.
“Have you all heard Syd's news?” She practically gushed she was so excited. I didn't get the chance to shush her up before she blurted it out. “She's looking for a second. And I'm in the running.”
Hey, hang on a minute. I opened my mouth to shut her down, only to catch the hurt in Shenka's eyes. My bestie turned away while the other girls all oohed and aahed.
“I'd test for it,” Nicci Mortimer said, dirty blonde hair bouncing in her high pigtails as she sipped a soda, “but I know I don't have the power you need, Syd.”
My empathy kicked in immediately. “That's not true, Nicci.”
“I'm planning to teach,” Josie Ambrose said, pale skin almost glowing in the light from the stained glass windows, her hair as black as Charlotte's, “or I'd be all over that.”
“You can't have her.” Tippy reached across Liam and grasped my hand.
“I don't know,” Donalda Pierce said in her slow drawl, tall, thin body leaning forward, wide gray eyes sparkling with humor as she teased our friend. “Maybe I'd like to give it a go, Syd.”
Though they were all part of Shenka’s family coven, I'd be much more inclined to choose this quiet, powerful Hensley witch than her red haired counterpart and actually paused to consider. Even as my heart churned over the look on Shenka's face.
“Excuse me,” she whispered, rising from the table, taking her tray with her. She left us, head down, dumping her uneaten lunch in the trash while I struggled with what to do.
Sheesh. She was the one who didn't want to talk about it.
I was about to go after her when I felt Mom touch my mind. Syd, sweetheart, can you come to my office? She sounded a little tense, hidden behind her Momness. No one else would have noticed, probably. But I knew her very well and felt my stomach tighten in response.
Anything I should have forewarning about? I rose with a wave to the others, a squeeze to Liam's shoulder and a mouthed, “Mom,” so they knew where I was going before turning and heading for the exit.
Just come, please. She sighed mentally.
I am, I sent as I descended the steps of Annenberg Hall and crossed the street to the Yard. But you sound stressed so I thought I'd ask.
Her hesitation told me everything I needed to know. I'll fill you in when you get here, she sent before cutting me off very firmly.
How lovely.
Charlotte paced silently behind me as I crossed the grassy Yard, backpack over one shoulder, my feet heavier with each step as I considered the numerous disasters Mom could be shielding me from. By the time I passed through the front door of Massachusetts Hall where she kept her office and climbed onto the elevator, I was so worked up I was sweating.
I often wonder why you allow yourself to become concerned with something of which you don't know the details. My vampire's gentle voice calmed me immediately before sparking a bit of temper.
You know my life, I sent back as the elevator doors dinged.
Our life, she corrected softly.
Whatever. You should be ne
rvous too, I sent. Why aren't you?
She paused. Sighed. When you put it that way.
That broke my nerves and made me laugh.
I thought this wasn't funny? She sounded so confused I giggled harder.
I love you, I sent. But sarcasm isn't your forte.
She fell silent as I grinned out the last of my tension and walked through the large wooden door into Mom's sitting room.
The parlor was all dark wood, from floor to walls to ceiling and though the height soared above me, I always felt like I was in a cave. The glaring faces of the previous Council Leaders in portraits lining the walls didn't make things any better.
The place gave me the creeps.
Maurice waited for me, his little mustache quivering. My mother's secretary and I didn't get along very well. Partly because he was a pompous snob and a toad. His old-fashioned waistcoat always hugged his very round belly and reminded me of a fat frog.
“Coven Leader,” he sniffed as though I didn't deserve the title, “please leave your dog at the door.”
Oh hell no. Charlotte had been a bone of contention between us before, but this was the first time he openly insulted her. The only thing saving his nasty little life? Mom entered the room at the exact same moment he insulted my bodywere.
Then again, from the scowl on her face, he'd gone from my rock and into Mom's hard place.
“Maurice.” She snapped his name. He jumped as he turned to face her, so comical I almost laughed. Would have if I wasn't pissed off. “You may go.”
“Council Leader.” He spluttered a moment. “The meeting.”
“I told you to leave.” Mom was usually really good at hiding her anger. But I could tell she'd taken personal offence to his insult. Either that or whoever waiting in her office had already stirred her anger and she was just taking it out on a convenient target.
Didn’t bode well for him either way.
