In Mage We Trust (Of Mystics and Mayhem Book 1)

by Heidi Vanlandingham

  “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, but now isn’t the time for doubt. Your mother is one of the Erinyes. Her power is vengeance. The Erinyes are charged to make right the unfulfilled oaths sworn by people for whatever reason. They are charged to judge sins.”

  He glanced behind me to the mausoleum, his face pensive. “Understand, Johnna, what an Erinys feels is many times more potent than our emotions. They are sometimes unmanageable. Even as a mortal, your mom had to fight its negative pull, especially around you. I love your mother for who she is, not what. Lucky for me, she returns the sentiment."

  My mouth mimicked his twisted half smile as questions ping-ponged inside my head. “You’re describing a Roman Fury, aren’t you? Wait a minute—the three Erinyes in Greek mythology had snake hair.” I grabbed my messy ponytail and twisted it around my wrist. “Please, please don’t tell me she wore a disguise and had snake hair.”

  He grimaced. “Well, I wouldn’t let your mother hear you say that—Greeks and Romans aren’t exactly friendly—and why would she have snake hair? You’re thinking of Medusa.”

  I shook my head. “You need to reread a few of your own books. The Erinyes had snake hair too.”

  "Your mother does not have snake hair—unless she goes to sleep with her hair wet, but I think it’s a fairly common problem females have. Suffice it to say, there is a reason these women don’t marry. Let’s just say the marriage rarely ends well.”

  I cleared my throat, trying to sound as normal as possible, as several memories surfaced. “I know I was young, but I remember a few interesting fights you two had.”

  Dad snorted. “Interesting would be putting it mildly. I remember those too, and the making up afterward.”

  “Eewww.” I scrunched up my face in disgust. “Way too much info.” I thought about his story, analyzing every word, when my mind stumbled. My tongue felt like a wad of cotton lying inside my mouth. With everything he’d just told me, I almost didn’t want to ask the question pummeling my brain. “Dad, you keep saying Mom is . . .”

  “Because there is definitely one giant plus about your mother being an Erinys. After we were first married, she wanted a baby so very badly. For whatever reason, she couldn’t conceive, so she consulted the Oracle, who told your mother to take a mortal soul. Johnna, she denied her immortality so you could have a normal life. To save you, she sacrificed her mortal soul.”

  My father’s hands covered my shaking shoulders as he kissed my forehead. “Turn around, Daughter.”

  Fear skittered over my skin like an electrical current, and my empty stomach rollercoastered under my pounding heart. I didn’t want to turn around, but the promise in my father’s eyes, the look of love on his face burst open the tiny kernel of hope growing in my chest. I breathed deeply and before I could chicken out, whirled around.

  Chapter 2

  A halo of dark red hair, like mine but thicker, framed her fair skin, and she had a light dusting of freckles thrown across her nose, giving her a youthful appearance. Brilliant blue eyes sparkled back at me.

  Mom.

  All my pent-up pain and grief bubbled to the surface. Instead of crying and wailing, I did something very unlike me. I ran away. I stumbled, darting between the graves until I couldn’t run anymore. At the base of a massive white angel, I collapsed, sobbing as if my heart had broken, and it had.

  For the past ten years I’d lived a lie and it pissed me off. When I was furious, I cried. If something lay within my reach, I threw it.

  Curling up into a ball, I rested my head on one bent arm and cried until I had no more tears left. With my eyes closed, I listened to the quiet tranquility surrounding me, letting it wash away all the agony and injustice coursing through my tired body.

  Slowly, my muscles relaxed. I opened my eyes and let out a loud sigh as I stared at Niki’s zombified face.

  “I can’t even fall apart alone, can I?”

  He slowly shook his head.

  I sat up, wiping the tears from my cheeks, and hoped I didn’t look as dirty as I felt. “I won’t apologize. Except for running away like a ninny, which I shouldn’t have done. Sometimes my father makes me feel like I’m five years old again instead of an adult. It’s quite evident my parents made decisions about my life without thinking things through.” I glared up at his emotionless face.

  “Has either one realized yet what they put me through? How I grew up? When I needed her most, my mother wasn’t there for me. Other teenagers had their moms cooking for them, taking them to the mall to buy clothes, teaching them how to put on their makeup and style their hair. Me? I got an absentminded father who only showed up to give me money—usually after I’d gone without for a month or so.”

  I ground my teeth together, trying to focus on what I was saying instead of the building anger and resentment. “Instead of dating, I worked two part-time jobs. I would’ve given anything to have normal parents. I needed their help through those horrible times . . . and believe me, to a teenager, everything is horrible. For gods’ sakes, they abandoned me, and I’m supposed to simply accept their reasons and excuses without a word?”

  I angrily swiped away more tears. I seemed to have a never-ending supply of them at the moment. Thankfully, Niki hadn’t said anything. In fact, I don’t think he moved from his squatted position a few feet in front of me while his fixed gaze bared my soul. Surprisingly, his face wasn’t emotionless. In fact, he almost looked sad as he held out his bony hand.

  I stared at it, rolling my lips between my teeth. A gallant zombie. Who knew? I so didn’t want to touch him and instead, cringed. He was trying to be nice. I might have been many things, but obnoxiously rude wasn’t one of them. At least not on purpose. Most of the time anyway. So I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat and placed my palm against his, expecting his hand to feel cold and slimy. I was shocked when his warm fingers closed over mine. He had calluses and the pads of his fingers were rough, yet not unpleasant.

  I took a deep breath and sucked it up like a big girl. “Okay, I’m ready to go back.”

  We walked in silence, but the closer I got to my parents, the more nervous I became. My stomach rolled, pitching and tossing as my nervousness increased. Recognizing the last row of tombstones before my mother’s mausoleum, my feet dragged.

  Niki stopped, his eerie gaze holding mine, seeing more than I was comfortable with.

  “What?” I asked.

  He raised my chin with his finger. “Look through adult eyes and see what your child’s eyes couldn’t see. You will be fine,” his low voice whispered. His touch and velvety tone sent shivers cascading over my body, and I found myself falling into his intense regard. He gave me a single nod and led me back to my parents, who hadn’t moved.

  My beautiful, wonderful mother stood in between the ionic columns framing the doorway of her crypt. My heart stuttered in my chest, and I did feel like a child again. I stared into her eyes and did as Niki told me, trying to see my mother with adult maturity.

  Sorrow enveloped her like a cloak, wrapping itself around her until there was no end and no beginning. Tiny worry lines framed the outer edges of her eyes and between her brows. My emotional rollercoaster exploded, and I couldn’t reach her fast enough.

  Our arms wrapped around each other with the fierceness borne of a million missed hugs.

  “I’m so sorry, my darling.” Mom’s soft whisper lovingly curled around me. It shook with emotion but was still the same gentle, soothing tone from my childhood. The voice I had missed the most and the one I thought I’d never hear again. I still resented my parents for leaving me to grow up on my own, but I’d been given a second chance with my family, and I couldn’t pass it up. Not in a million years. I’d figure out the rest later.

  “I missed you so much. After you died . . . before Dad left . . . he kept saying you were gone. He never used the word
‘dead.’ I thought he was in denial.” I lifted my head from where it lay against her shoulder. “What he explained seems so farfetched.”

  Mom threw my father a questioning look, then cupped my cheek between her palms, a sad smile on her face. “I missed you right back. You were never alone, darling. I watched over you as much as I could.”

  I frowned. “You did? Why didn’t you say something instead of letting me believe you were dead?”

  “I hated every moment. However, it was the only thing we could think of to keep you safe. I’m afraid there’s more you still need to hear.” Her sad eyes locked with mine. “Thank the gods you’re not one of those squealing, panicky types.”

  My heart squeezed with fresh worry. I didn’t want to hear any more. Yet, when Mom tucked me under her arm and motioned with a flourish toward the mausoleum, I kept my mouth shut. “Let’s go inside and get comfortable. This could take a while.”

  I stopped, pulling her backward. “Really, you don’t need to tell me. You know the saying, ‘ignorance is bliss?’ And I definitely don’t want to go in a crypt. Unless there’s a living room stuffed in there, how comfortable can we be?”

  Then I stepped inside and my jaw dropped. I quite possibly strained my eye muscles as my gaze moved around the room, taking in everything all at once and getting that jittery Alice-esque sensation again. “Whoa.” I couldn’t quite believe what I saw. “Talk about your misconceptions.”

  Dark terra cotta floor tiles butted up against pale yellow walls. On either side of the doorways were several antique, hammered-metal torches, giving the room a peaceful glow. Two oversized rattan sofas with rich sapphire cushions faced each other in the center of the room. My brain was on overload, so I decided to go with the flow and have a nervous breakdown later.

  With a sweep of her hand, Mom gestured for me, and I assume Niki, to take a seat, although, in my opinion, she’d have to throw the chair away when he left. She sat next to my dad who immediately wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her against his side. They looked so happy.

  Mom smiled at me. “Your father was right. We could be sisters. You look so much like me.”

  A warm, fuzzy sensation blossomed in my chest and popped when I noticed Dad’s pinched expression, so I refocused. “Before Dad comes unglued and my brain stops from overload, spill the rest of the story. I stayed up late studying for a test last night and some ugly imp is wearing my four shots of espresso, so I can’t guarantee how much of this I’m going to retain.”

  “I’m sorry, Johnna. I unknowingly put you in a very awkward situation when I bequeathed you the key to my diary. Of course, you would have been given the key on your twenty-fifth birthday anyway, but I inadvertently presented you with a death sentence by giving it to you early. Max will do anything, and I mean anything, to get his hands on my diary, including killing his own family.”

  “What a jerk. How evil could someone be to hurt his own family?” Then I frowned, my gaze moving rapidly back and forth between my parents. “Wait a minute. Whose family are we talking about?” I’d never been known for my patience, and now was no different as my leg bounced up and down while I waited for her answer. The worried glance she gave Dad didn’t help either.

  “Max is your grandfather,” Dad said.

  “Holy shit.”

  “Johnna Artemis Newton.” Mom’s voice echoed through the room. “Legally, you may be an adult, but when you are with me, you will watch your language at all times, young lady.”

  Mom’s blue eyes could’ve cut glass with the glare she laid on me. I was on a roll. Five minutes with both parents, and I was in trouble. Yay me.

  “Sorry.” I smiled sweetly. “Holy poop.” I bit back my laughter at my parents’ sour expressions. “I’m sorry. Now, why is my grandfather a psychopath? And who gets to claim him as their father?”

  Dad’s swallowed laugh ended in a choke as Mom ribbed him with her elbow. “He’s not . . . well, maybe he is a psychopath. Just don’t underestimate him. Death, while for us isn’t permanent, is very painful. Max is your paternal grandfather.”

  “Well, good advice but it’s a little late. I’ve had quite an exciting day. Dear ol’ Dad can fill you in later. Now get to the juicy part. Are you dead or alive? Why does he want your diary so bad? What did you write in it?”

  Mom stared at me with a funny expression, her eyebrow raised high. “Straight to the point, aren’t you?” A small smile ghosted across her face. For a brief moment, spots appeared, glistening around the room, then solidified into tall glasses filled with a rich ruby-colored liquid. A plate filled with sandwiches appeared on the marble coffee table between us. I stared at my glass, knowing I should be freaking out. Instead, I plucked the glass from the space in front of me, sniffed the liquid, and hesitantly sipped.

  Great. Cherry flavored drink mix. I’m sitting in a crypt in a magical world, and that’s all I get.

  How old did my father think I was? Five? Scratch that, I told myself. Of course, he did.

  “Max thinks the book holds the answer to some problem he has. As an Erinys, my job is to keep a log of everyone’s lies and broken promises—no matter how small, as well as their transgressions. I went through my diary a million times, but nothing ever stood out.”

  Her fingers squeezed my dad’s thigh, her knuckles turning white. “As for your next question, there is no easy answer about whether or not I’m alive. Being an Erinys isn’t just a job, it’s who and what I am. Like your father is a mage and my mother a goddess. I never realized how hard being a mother could be.”

  She swiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. “I was so tired, running you around from basketball to dance lessons and later, the library. I made a mistake that night and fell asleep without setting my wards. They’re a magical security system. When Max arrived, I woke up, but it was too late and he had you. He said I had to turn over the diary to get you back.”

  Dad pulled her closer and kissed her temple. “Your mother never knew I’d put a tracer spell on you. I arrived as they made the trade. My father’s assistant was young and inexperienced. He panicked and threw a demon flame at your mother.”

  I held up my hand, my poor caffeine-starved brain trying to keep up with all the craziness it was trying to process. “Wait a minute. A what?”

  “A demon flame. When thrown at a target’s life source, the target dies. The flame destroyed the mortal soul she needed to stay bound to the Mortal Realm—and to you.”

  Dad's pain washed through me. His guilt over what had happened slowly ate at him, like a cancer. How I knew this was a mystery. Maybe I understood his pain because of my own.

  “I took her to her mother and sisters. They helped her heal and watched over her, making sure Max didn’t go after her again.” Dad patted Mom’s thigh affectionately. “Being immortal has its perks. Anyway, I made the decision to hide the key using you. And believe me, I’ve paid for my choice ever since.”

  I laughed at the uncomfortable look covering his face. “Surely, it wasn’t that bad.”

  His expression turned into a cross between horrified and incredulous. “Uh, avenger of justice? Weren’t you listening earlier?”

  I scrunched my face up at the thought of what went down between my parents and imagined World War Three. “Eewww, sorry.” Studying my mom as I sipped my drink, I tried to ignore the subtle movements from the stick-like hand next to my leg as I wiped away a few drops from my chin. “Why didn’t you come back to see me?”

  My mother frowned, and when the dead person beside me dropped a napkin onto my lap, I glanced over at him. His eyebrows, or what I thought were eyebrows, rose as if he waited for me to do something.

  A zombie had just chastised me for dribbling. Oh, the irony.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, his eyes sparkling. The dratted zombie was laughing at
me again. He’d just lost a good-boy point.

  Mom sighed. “I couldn’t risk it. The man was infuriating and never let up. He assigned a very anal-retentive young apprentice who reveled in his job. Even now, if he realizes I’m still alive, you would be in more danger.”

  She snuck a sideways peek at Dad. “The old adage, 'Like mother, like daughter' applies to this situation. We never told him about my true nature. He knew I had some kind of power. We never talked about it, not even in private because he could hear us even then. We found out soon after we married he used the mirrors in the house to spy on us. We thought we had more time. We hoped he would wait until your twenty-fifth birthday, when you would be able to read my diary and understand what’s written inside. It’s also when you would have come into your powers.”

  “Yippee for me, but not happening. Reading your personal thoughts is just creepy. Now, go back to the part about powers.”

  “That’s where I come in,” Cheesehead whispered in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. I jumped, the liquid in my cup spilling onto the floor.

  “Stop doing that,” I snapped, glowering at him. “Or I’m going to make you wear a bell around your neck.”

  The zombie leaned back, unconcerned by my threat. “You’d better get used to surprises because Max plays to win. He will never let up, and you will need to be prepared for anything. In removing the key before your twenty-fifth birthday, your magic was, in a sense, jumpstarted.”

  I stared at Cheesehead, amazed he’d said so many words at once. I faced my parents, my mouth opening to ask a question, when Niki reached for a couple of the sandwiches. Crunching noises came from his direction, and I sealed my lips, willing my stomach to stay strong.

  I met my mother’s amused gaze. “Now what? I can’t sit here and wait for him to show up.”

  “No, my dear, none of us will.” Dad’s resolve laced each word. Rising with a flourish, he pulled my mother up with him. I watched them like I used to so long ago, during much happier times. Dad lowered his hand, palm up, in front of me. I hesitated and slowly laid my palm on his.