Chapter 170: Unclean
Alison hurried off to her room with me in tow. I paused, seeing Rosetta watching us from a doorway, letting my friend go on without me. I approached the maid, my anger simmering, hating the way she looked at me and the fact she was still a part of my friend's life.
Rosetta tried to escape, but I caught her arm as she spun to run down the hall. I guided her into the room from where she'd been spying and eased the door closed. The bedroom was lovely but empty, some kind of guest room for a whole football team from the size of it.
I ignored my surroundings, focusing on the frightened yet defiant maid.
"Tell me," I said at my most menacing, "what has happened to the Chosen of the Light?" The last I knew they were busy tearing Demitrius apart. But having some more information on their current activities would be nice.
Rosetta moaned softly, stricken. "We are no more." Tears gathered in her large dark eyes, true sorrow making her pathetic. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost. Maybe if her old boss hadn't tried to light me on fire I'd be feeling a wee more lenient.
"Where's Demitrius?" Who knew, the guy was so slippery maybe he escaped.
"Gone," she said in a shuddering voice. "Annick, gone. All of us shattered." She glared at me as hate won over grief. "It's all your fault, witch."
I felt power stir inside her, not witchcraft, something else. I knew the feel of it. "You're a sorcerer."
She shrugged, wiping at the tears on her face with the back of her free hand, her other arm still in my grasp. "I am."
"How could you hate your own kind?" It still blew my mind.
She hissed and pulled her arm free. "You are nothing like me, unclean one. Just like the horrible filth now living in our beautiful home." She sobbed once. "Dirty undead in our wonderful house."
Hadn't Sunny said Nicholas took her to the Chosen mansion once? She had to have claimed the house for the Blood Clan DeWinter. Score. The place was a castle, though I didn't think I could bring myself to live there with the ghost of Demitrius hanging around.
"Syd?" Alison's voice reached me through the door, from the hallway. I backed off from Rosetta, jabbing toward her with my index finger.
"Stay away from my family," I snarled. "Or else."
She trembled, but faced me. "Or else what?"
"You don't want to know." I went to the door and eased it open. Alison was walking down the staircase calling my name. I hurried to the top of the stairs behind her just before she whipped around and saw me. A smile lit her up again.
"Sorry," I laughed a little. "I got turned around and, well... this place is huge."
She rolled her eyes, hooking my arm with hers, pulling me along. "Silly, this way."
I went with her, catching sight of Rosetta, feeling my shoulder blades twitch as it felt like the maid glared a hole in my retreating back.
I hung out on Alison's bed playing with her Xbox while she made the arrangements for the party. Her fashion and design questions raised grunts and weak approval from me, more than enough, it seemed, to keep her happy.
It still rankled our friends believed her over me, but I knew how persuasive Alison could be. After all, before she'd reformed to a nice person she'd held the entire high school in thrall to her evil ways. Took talent.
She finally threw herself down beside me for a round of racing.
"How's your mom?" It was a polite question though I didn't really care. The woman was horrible to Alison, not to mention told her daughter I'd been inappropriate with a guy when I was at the lake house. I didn't think much of her or how she treated my bestie.
"She's, you know. Mom." She sighed. "I wish you could meet Dad."
Her absentee father lived in New York most of the time. No wonder with a wife like Angela. I mentally slapped myself for being rude.
"You're so lucky." She hugged my arm after losing badly. I was surprised since she was so hard-core about winning I usually lost just so she wouldn't sulk. "Having your mom and dad home all the time. That must be awesome."
I refused to let her see how much that choked me up. "I should go."
She seemed about to protest, but smiled at last, a sad little expression. "Okay."
Alison walked me to the door. After squealing over Minnie, admiring my new car, she hugged me. "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"You bet." It was so hard to leave her there. "Call me in the morning."
She waved as I drove off, forlorn and lost and I felt like a total jerk for not rescuing her from herself.
Mom was in the kitchen when I walked in, draped in her favorite apron, "Witch in the Kitch." She was covered in flour and assorted baking products, but I went to her anyway and hugged her tight.
Mom didn't say a thing, just held me while I let the scent of her lilac fragrance remind me I had the best mother ever. "Love you," I whispered into her hair.
When I pulled away she led me to the table, seating me before her with my hands in hers. "What happened, honey?"
I spilled to her about Alison, the fight, how her mother treated her, everything. Mom just sat there, though her expression grew grim as I went on. When I finally ground to a pathetic halt, she hugged me again. I hadn't been hugged so many times since I was a kid.
"I worry about her," Mom said. "I had no idea her mother was so..." She looked away then back to me, determination in her face. "We can't interfere, not really," she said, "but there are things I can do to help."
"Like?" Was Mom considering using magic on Angela? That would so rock. And be against a whack of rules I couldn't begin to count.
"You leave it to me." Mom smiled. "And I love you too."
I may have been seventeen, but hearing my mother say that made me feel a whole lot better.
***
