“Well?” I pressed.
“Where should we start?” Marcus asked, looking at my dad.
Oh hell.
“Do I need coffee?” I had a feeling I seriously needed coffee.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Dad said.
I made coffee. Then I made French toast with a loaf of bread that I’d baked the day before (what can I say, I bake, I’m good at it and it gives me focus).
When Dad and Marcus were sitting at two stools at the island in the middle of the kitchen, Ash was on one side of me, hip against the counter, Aidan on the other side, his hip against the counter too, me in the middle (per usual) and all of us forking up French toast, I spoke.
“So?”
“We’ve been called to Washington,” Dad said.
Syrup dribbled on my pink thermal top that had tiny blue polka dots.
“Called to Washington?” I asked.
“Yes, we have a meeting with a few gentlemen in the government and some representatives from the Federal Witches Agency.”
I did not take this as a good sign.
“What kind of meeting?”
“They want to set up peace talks,” Dad told me.
Holy Diplomacy, Batman!
That was a good idea!
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
“Really?” I asked.
Dad nodded.
“The United States Government knows about me? About us? About the war?”
I found this surprising.
“Of course. The US government knows everything,” Dad said.
“As does Parliament,” Marcus said.
I should have probably known that, or at least guessed it, but I didn’t.
I was not a very good Head Cheese.
“The meeting is tomorrow,” Dad went on.
Holy crap.
What was I going to wear to a meeting with government officials?
I needed to inventory my wardrobe and fast.
“That’s not it,” Marcus cut in.
Uh-oh.
“What else?” I asked.
“There have been rumblings in Le Société. There are members who were against the Elders’ decision to side with The Modernists. The rumblings grew to dissension. Dissension grew to conflict. Le Société has splintered,” Marcus explained.
I looked at Marcus then at Dad then at Ash, all members of Le Société.
None of them showed any reaction to this, such was their training, but I was shocked.
Again, I should have seen this coming.
Le Société had always been stalwart to the cause of protecting witches.
Problem was, Le Société was made up of the husbands, sons and partners of witches. It would stand to reason that the husbands, sons and partners of The Traditionalist witches would want to cast their lot with their kind.
I put down my plate, not hungry anymore (I wasn’t a big fan of French toast anyway, but a) it’s easier than pancakes and b) both Aidan and Ash love my French toast).
“What does that mean?” I asked Marcus.
“It means we have fewer allies than we thought, and we’ve lost a number of good men and women who are highly trained, have significant skills and know a great deal about the rest of us.”
Eek!
“We have the same, don’t we?” I asked. “I mean, how many did we lose?”
“Not many, we just don’t have the numbers we had before,” Marcus answered.
Then it hit me. “You’re surprised by this.”
Marcus’s gaze flickered over his son then came back to me. “The Prophesies intimated that Le Société would ally with you, in total. It was our assumption, because The Prophesies stated it, that Le Société would be your army, totally loyal and at your command.”
I was dealing with the new shock (and kind of happy, giddy feeling) of having a bunch of kickass secret society dudes “at my command” when Aidan made a noise that sounded like a low grunt.
“What?” I asked Aidan.
“There’s more,” Aidan told me.
Great.
Just what I needed.
More.
“What?” I asked.
Aidan grinned.
“What?” My voice was rising.
“Yesterday, the Directors of The Institute called all the members in for a meeting to explain the situation and the fact that they swore allegiance to The Modernists. Dr. Bennett read out the new manifesto for The Institute, shattering its old mission of watching and recording the supernatural world. The members were all asked to pledge their energies toward bringing the magical world and normal world together.”
I was holding my breath.
This was huge.
The Institute was Switzerland, as in neutral. They never got involved. Not even during The Burning Times when witches (and innocents) were hunted, tortured, “tried,” drowned and burned. The Institute never broke custom, not even to save the lives of the innocents (not that the witches that were tortured and killed during The Burning Times weren’t innocent too, they totes were).
Just like wildlife researchers, the members of The Institute observed the supernatural and took notes. They never got involved with their subjects (except some renegade ones, of course, but they were usually banished, though, not Aidan because he was prophesied to be with or die for The Chosen One, it’s all kinda confusing, just go with me here).
“What did they decide?” I asked.
“Without hesitation, every member swore his allegiance to you,” Aidan told me on a smile.
“Oh my Goddess,” I breathed.
Cool!
Man, I am so glad I baked them all those cookies.
Aidan got closer. “It would seem, darling, that the army prophesied to be at your command would be The Institute not Le Société.”
Aidan was enjoying this. I could tell. Le Société had a long-standing hatred of The Institute, mainly because what happened during The Burning Times. This was another thing that stood between Ash and Aidan, giving Ash the higher ground when it came to me.
Now, the coin had flipped.
I should have taken this as good news—at least someone had sworn allegiance to me.
Problem was, as far as I could tell, with the likes of my dad, Ash and Marcus, the members of Le Société were kickass hot dudes. The average age of a member of The Institute (Aidan not withstanding) was nine hundred and eighty-two (slight exaggeration). They could barely walk due to osteoporosis and hardening arteries. They were in no shape to fight a war.
“I’ve been called back to give a briefing,” Aidan told me.
What?
“No!” I cried (I couldn’t stop myself).
Aidan got even closer.
“I won’t be long, Matty. Maybe a week.”
Aidan had barely left my side since the Battle of The Tor. Aidan was my boyfriend (or, one of them). Aidan was my bodyguard during the day. Aidan was maybe prophesied to die for me and how could I look after him when he wasn’t close? And, again, I will remind you, Aidan was hot.
I didn’t want him to be gone for a week.
“But –”
“Wilding has recovered, he can look after you and this is important.”
I could tell Aidan didn’t like the first part of that and wasn’t real fond of the second part either.
I could also sense something else about him I couldn’t put my finger on.
But…priorities.
“I can’t protect you when there’s most of a continent and an entire ocean between us,” I told him.
His smiled changed to the kind where I could tell he thought the idea of my protecting him was amusing.
“I’ll be all right.”
“I swear to the Goddess, something happens to you, you get shot, poisoned, captured, tortured, I’m gonna kill you.”
Aidan slide his arm around my shoulders and he brought me close. “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” he said softly.
“It better not,” I mumbled into his
shirt because my face was pressed into his shoulder.
I heard someone clearing their throat. I looked toward the sound and saw my dad, eyes on me then they moved to something behind my back and I remembered Ash was there.
Yeesh.
I pulled a little away from Aidan and looked up at him.
“When do you leave?”
“This evening.”
Crap!
“I need to brief you on my plan. I have the whole war organized. I need to go over it with you so you can tell the old dudes I’ve got things under control.”
This was a lie, of course.
I had a bunch of Post-its and had convinced myself I had a plan and knew what I was doing but, mostly, I was totally clueless.
Aidan knew this but he nodded anyway.
Jeez, I loved this guy.
Aidan and I stood outside the security area at Denver International Airport, his arms loose around my waist, my hands at his shoulders.
Ash had driven Aidan and I to DIA so he could play bodyguard but had (being totally cool, if you ask me) disappeared so I could say good-bye to Aidan.
I had briefed Aidan and given him some vials with protection potions in them (all, of course, under the liquids limit for TSA—it wouldn’t do for those to get confiscated). It wasn’t a lot, but it was something and that made me feel a wee bit better.
“I don’t like you off my radar,” I told him.
“Funny that, I’m thinking the same thing,” he told me.
Uh-oh.
Felt an emotional breakdown coming over me.
See, the thing is, I had a bad feeling about this.
And again, I was clairvoyant.
But, outside of the witch that tried to zap me at Target, nothing bad had happened in a long time.
I knew that wasn’t going to last. Things didn’t stay calm around me for very long.
I knew something was going to happen. Soon. I knew it because I felt it. I had a witch’s intuition and that meant something, believe you me.
“Please be careful,” I said to Aidan.
“Matty, don’t worry.”
“Just promise you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“Use those protection potions if you need them.”
“I will.”
“Call me if something happens. I’ll come and take care of it.”
He smiled like I was funny, and he was about to laugh.
I slapped his shoulder.
“I’m being serious!”
The smile faded.
“I know you are, darling,” he said softly.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
He kissed my nose.
“I’ll be fine.”
“I love you.”
Holy shit!
Did I just say that?
I stared at Aidan’s face which had gone still along with his body.
Yes, I just said it.
“God, Matty—”
Before he could say more, I wrapped my arms around his neck, went up on my toes, and I kissed him.
Hard.
“Come back to me safe,” I whispered against his mouth when I was done kissing him.
He nodded, slid the back of his knuckles across my cheekbone, kissed my nose again then he let me go and walked into the security line.
I waited for him to look back and wave.
He didn’t.
But then, when I was about to lose sight of him, when he was about to go down the escalators to get on the underground train, he turned back and looked right into my eyes.
And it felt like my heart exploded.
And let me tell you, that hurt.
A lot.
Because that look on his face the night Ash returned was back, with a vengeance.
And I could not only get it this time, I could actually read it.
He was going to let me go.
He was going to end my suffering.
He was going to let Ash win.
And to do that, he’d have to die for me.
No!
When he was out of sight, I realized I’d stopped breathing when I felt a hand slide along my waist.
I started breathing again and looked up as Ash pulled me into his side.
“He didn’t look back,” I told Ash, sounding just as pained as I felt, but before I could add, And then he did, Ash spoke.
“Never look back,” he said, and for the first time, I heard respect in his voice when he was referring to Aidan.
Fucking men.
I decided not to share what I read on Aidan’s face.
No.
Incorrect.
I decided to completely deny what I read on Aidan’s face and try to figure out a way these two alpha, possessive dudes would become brother-husbands to me.
Yeah.
That was what I decided.
Again, it’s not news.
I’m an idiot.
15 December
Lucy’s here!
Yay!
Yay!
Yay!
Am happy because a) Lucy’s my friend and I love her, b) Lucy agrees with my “Nantucket Getaway” vision for our Bewitched store, c) Lucy likes to paint and d) Lucy says BBC is still interested.
Yay!
May still be super, famous cookery program guru with own line of pretty mixing bowls and measuring cups!
Yay! Yay! Yay!
Store is coming together but we’re still trading regardless of painting and renovation happening at same time. I need money to stock my magickal larder and those shoes at Nordstrom aren’t going to walk into my closet by themselves (hmm, could use magic to…no! That would be called stealing. Bad Mathilda, bad!).
Went with a suit to talk with government officials about peace.
Thought it best to appear professional, sober and serious.
Though, being me, I couldn’t be too professional, sober and serious as whole body, heart and soul would protest and likely spontaneously combust.
So, I wore a winter white suit (the jacket was cute, nipped in at the waist and a little flouncy around the hips and the skirt was super tight and made my ass look fantastic, à la J Lo, except taller, not Latina and, um…blonde) and a pale pink satin blouse and the sleekest pale pink sling back shoes.
Sorry, but my outfit kicked ass.
Think I surprised the conservative government guys and the ultra-conservative Federal Witches Agency women (all wearing charcoal gray or navy suits, lots of red ties, lots of shiny wing tips – even on the witches!).
Let’s just say, this was not a fashion-forward group.
When we walked into the meeting, Dad looked around and his face got kinda mad, Ash looked kinda scary, but it was Marcus who surprised me.
“We’re leaving.” Marcus said upon entry.
“What?” I asked.
I hadn’t even sat down, got myself a coffee, let everyone check out the full effect of my kickass suit.
“Let’s go, Mathilda.” Ash took my elbow and started leading me out of the room (somebody’s conference room, or, more accurately, somebody-who-needed-a-new-decorator’s conference room).
“Mr. Wilding.” One of the government guys tried to waylay us.
“That would be Sir Sebastian,” Marcus barked at the government guy.
Erm.
’Scuse please?
Sir Sebastian?
“We don’t hold with those titles here,” one of the witches snapped back.
“We do.” Dad entered the fray, sounding as mad as he looked.
I was still back at “Sir” Sebastian.
Then we were gone, out of the room, down the hall and into the limo Dad had waiting for us.
Just a note, vampires can’t walk around in sunlight, just like you’ve heard.
My brother Gabe, who was only half-vampire, could.
My dad, who was full vampire, could too, but only because of a special lotion Mom made for him that was like magical, mystical ultra-pote
nt sunscreen.
In fact, most vampires had some kind of magic that let them walk around in sunlight.
If not…toast.
Literally.
The burned, icky kind of toast.
Anyhoo.
“What was that all about?” I asked no one particular when we were in the car.
Gabe was waiting for us in the limo and he and Dad exchanged glances.
“Second string,” Dad said to Gabe.
“More like third,” Marcus muttered.
“You’re joking.” Gabe said, sounding pissed.
“Hello?” I called.
“Mathilda, they aren’t taking this seriously,” Ash told me. “They sent lackeys.”
“Lackeys speak English. Peace talks are—” I started.
“You’re The Mathilda,” Dad broke in.
“Yes,” I agreed because I was, indeed, The Mathilda. No one knew that better than me.
“The Mathilda doesn’t sit down and talk with lackeys,” Dad said and even though I’d only known my dad for a short period of time, I knew he was being super, double, extra serious.
I looked at Ash again.
“Isn’t peace good?” I asked.
“Peace is good,” Ash agreed.
“Well, anything for peace is good, right?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t get it.”
“You’re The Mathilda. You’re important. There are certain protocols,” Ash told me.
There were?
Oh shit, I missed that particular book.
More reading.
Great.
“What protocols?” I asked.
“Protocols that say my daughter, The Chosen One, The Mathilda, does not sit down with second string,” Dad said.
“Third,” Marcus repeated.
Yikes!
All right, whatever.
Time to get to the serious stuff.
I looked back at Ash.
“Sir Sebastian?”
“He’s knighted,” Marcus told me.
Knighted!
Oh…my…Goddess!
“By, like, the Queen?” I asked.
Ash nodded.
“The Queen of England?”
Ash nodded again but the corners of his lips were moving in a way that made me think he was fighting a smile.
“Awesome!” I shouted. “How’d you do that?”
“You don’t want to know,” Gabe said and now he was looking serious, scary serious.
The Rise of the Dark Lord Page 4
