Chapter 293: Handling The Family
I hated waking up without any knowledge of how I made it to bed. Not that it was a common occurrence, but still. I groaned as I rolled over, a spare blanket laid carefully over me, emerging from the covering to find myself still fully clothed from the night before. I rubbed at my bleary eyes, strung thin and more than a little wonky as I struggled for full wakefulness.
It had to have been Quaid. I didn't remember passing out, but I did know he was still in the house. I felt him, our connection pulling my attention immediately to his location. Which happened to be the kitchen.
I slumped to the bathroom, head muzzy and the world wobbling around me. I'd used up a lot of focus the night before, spending what felt like endless hours and piles of magic on the witches who clung to my power, soothing them one after another until, hopefully, I managed to finish the job.
I say hopefully because I honestly didn't remember.
The hot shower wasn't doing me any good. With a ruthless twist of my wrist, I let icy cold replace it. My skin was red and I was shuddering by the time I stepped out, scalp tingling from the bitter cold, but I felt much more awake and aware.
The wet end of my ponytail clung to my neck as I made my way down the stairs to the hall and the kitchen at its end. I hugged myself through my T-shirt, a huge yawn sending popping sounds through my head and bringing tears to my eyes. I wiped at them absently as I shuffled across the thin metal divider separating the hall carpet from the kitchen tiles. I glanced up and immediately stopped moving.
Quaid casually flipped what looked and smelled like the best pancakes on the planet while Meira stood beside him, her dish held out for her serving. He grinned and winked at her, tall body slouched sideways, wide shoulders moving in the most delightful way under the thin black fabric of his shirt as he lifted the frying pan and expertly tossed the pancake one more time, letting it fall perfectly in the center of my sister's plate.
I found myself grinning too despite my weariness, feeling my heart at last swell and wake. Quaid glanced up, saw me watching, let a slow, delicious smile spread over his handsome face while his energy reached out and wrapped me up ever so gently.
Meira dropped her plate on the table and came running, hugging me with her arms where Quaid used his magic.
I hugged her back, resting my chin on her hair, realizing just how tall she was getting. "Hey, Meems. Save me any pancakes?"
She pulled away, grinning. Her lips looked sticky, cheeks flushed even through the red of her demon tone from the influence of too much sugar. I rolled my eyes at Quaid while she spoke.
"I'm on my fifth." She giggled and turned away, kneeling on her chair to smear a huge wad of butter on the golden cake before smothering it in syrup and strawberry jam.
I shuddered and looked away, raising an eyebrow as I approached the stove.
Way to put my sister in a sugar coma.
His chocolate eyes sparkled. How had I never noticed they had the barest flecks of lighter brown in them? I saw it as I drew closer, much closer, one of his arms going around my waist, his free hand lifting to cup my cheek.
You sleep okay? His concern was a soft and loving thing, sliding over my body with a thrill of his touch, like electricity crackling across every inch of my skin. I leaned into him, resting my forehead on his shoulder, breathing deeply of his scent, a mix of something spicy and rich and the laundry detergent he'd used on his clothes. My lips found the hollow of his throat, pressed to the soft pulse under his skin. I felt him tense a little even as his magic thrummed in happiness.
My demon purred, sliding out threads of amber magic to mingle with the warmly caramel feel of him. I pulled away as he bent his head, his mouth brushing across my temple.
Not in front of my sister. Hell no. And as much as it felt amazing, he was too distracting.
Quaid grimaced, but shrugged and let me go, the feeling of his power untouched by anger and full of agreement. We just couldn't catch a break on our timing.
"I'm heading home after I make you some pancakes." He turned and measured out a dollop of creamy white batter, the sizzle of the pan releasing a light cloud of smoke and steam. "I'll talk to Louisa and Martin and see if I can find out what they wanted last night."
I smacked myself in the forehead with the open palm of my hand. Quaid's smile was full of amusement, but he gently touched the spot with his fingertips before bending to kiss the stinging flesh.
"Gently," he said.
I rolled my eyes, wondering where this new and improved Quaid had come from. I was so used to his snarky, sarcastic and dark humor, it felt odd to have him so attentive. Not that I minded.
"I forgot all about them." I groaned softly, leaning against the counter, feeling the bite of a drawer handle on my hip. "I'll just go now."
He was already flipping my pancake as my stomach let out a very unhappy growl.
"It's cool." He slid the delicious steaming mass onto a plate and handed it to me. "I'll take care of it."
I knew I should have gone anyway, but something about having him there for me, the fact he had my back like no one else, lulled me into accepting his plan. I sat at the table, devoured the sticky mess once I'd covered mine in my own slop of toppings, grinning with a thumbs up as he waved and left.
Is this the life I had to look forward to? With Quaid? As I licked the syrup from my fingers, I found myself smiling at the idea.
Maybe things would work out after all.
I realized then I shouldn't just let him take the fall for my mistake. Not that the Vegas would be angry with him or even me for that matter. But I owed it to them to apologize. I reached for Meira's plate as I stood. She sat back in her seat, groaning.
"Can Quaid make us breakfast every morning?" Her amber eyes smiled at me as she let out a less-than-delicate burp I'm sure they heard down the block.
I wrinkled my nose as I dumped the plates in the sink for later. He'd cleaned up after himself even, the measuring cup he'd used rinsed out, frying pan neatly stacked on the rack. I instantly suspected magic. There was no way he was a neat freak.
There was so much about Quaid I didn't know.
Meira drifted off, holding her very full belly. I heard her climb the stairs and snickered, assuming she was going back to bed to sleep off her binge. I finished tidying up before taking a seat at the table once again and reaching for the Vegas.
Louisa, Martin. I felt them both embrace my mind. I was careful to keep my communication tight, though I could feel their fear despite my caution. I'm sorry I didn't make it over last night. Quaid is on his way home. Can you tell him what you need to share with me?
Their mutual hesitation worried me more than their answer.
Dear Syd, Louisa sent, we really need to speak with you directly.
Don't take this the wrong way, Martin cut in. We love Quaid as though he were our child. But this business... when he trailed off I felt his fear increase, his anxiety. They were worried about the coven, but worse than that.
They were afraid for my life.
I'll be right over. I was on my feet, hurrying to the door, even as I finished the thought and severed the connection.
I heard tires on the asphalt outside, the hum of an engine turning off. I reached the door just as it opened in my face, Erica walking through without knocking.
She let out a little shriek, clutching at her chest. "Syd, you scared the crap out of me."
I know I should have been more patient, but she just waltzed into my house and I scared her? "Maybe if you knocked."
Ouch. I could see I hurt her, deeply. I didn't mean it that way and was about to apologize when she scowled at me.
"I'm here for a reason." Her features flinched, alternating between guilt and anger. This wasn't going to be a happy conversation. "And I've never had to knock on your door in my life."
"Angela?" Hopefully Erica had managed to calm Alison's mother down.
Erica's dark expression softened a little. "The police are investigating. Alison's father is on his way from New York. I had one of the family come in to watch her until she can hire a new housekeeper."
That much was taken care of at least. I nodded my thanks.
Erica was nowhere near done. "I'm not here because of the Morgans."
I sighed and turned my back on her, going to sit down because this was a sit-down kind of discussion, I could tell. "What's up?"
She didn't join me, just stood there in the doorway, hands clenched at her sides. "We need to talk about the coven."
I pointed at the chair next to me, the one Meira just vacated. "Have a seat."
She shook her head, blonde hair swinging. I missed her short, shiny bob and wondered why she'd grown it out. "I'm not here to chat or catch up," she said. "I'm here to take over."
I blinked at her. Man, I was really that tired. I thought she said-
"Your mother had no intention of leaving you in charge." Erica began to pace the kitchen, arms now wrapped around herself, body tense. "While I know she's done so before, it was without knowledge of what was to come." She turned on me then, face set. "Miriam granted you leader status because she was sure nothing would happen. But this time is different, Syd. This time something horrible is going on. And, quite frankly, I don't think you're prepared for it."
I couldn't speak. Oddly, even my demon and Shaylee were both silent. Like none of us could manage to put together coherent thought. I'd had my run-ins with Erica. But this was unbelievable.
"You can't handle Celeste." Erica's arms dropped, fear flickering across her face. "And the coven needs strong leadership if we're to survive this. Syd, there is a very good chance your mother won't..." she looked away, out the window, voice thick as she went on, "won't survive this. But it's my responsibility to make sure the family does." She turned back to me, tears standing in her eyes. "I don't want to fight you over this, but you need to give up control of the family magic to me."
Anger built at last. But it was quiet, simmering anger, rising from deep within me, almost silent in its power.
"You want the family magic, Erica?" I felt my body relax despite the conversation I found myself in, the heat of my quiet rage granting me more strength than I'd ever known. "Is that it? You would go against the wishes of your leader and steal control from the heir to your coven?"
My voice was quiet. I couldn't seem to add volume, didn't want to. I think it was almost worse for her. I watched with clinical detachment as she flinched from each word, each statement. I think she'd been expecting me to explode, not this cutting calm.
Erica shuffled her feet. "Yes," she said. "That's exactly what I'm saying."
"I wonder," I said, injecting power behind my words, "which of us is unprepared for leadership."
Her eyes widened. "How dare you?"
I'd suspected Mom's reasons for selecting Erica as her second. I reached out with my magic, slid it inside hers, felt around. "You're weak," I said, "afraid to act. And so you do the only thing you think you can. But Erica, you're second because Mom knows you'll never be first."
This didn't feel like me. The words coming out of my mouth... were they even mine? I retreated, pulling my magic back, felt then the oh-so-subtle touch of another's magic in my mind, familiar as my very own, the gentle push her power placed over me.
Damn it, I was just tired enough for it to work. I snapped my shields up, cutting off Gram's control before focusing on Erica again. My demon was suddenly awake and aware and quite irritated while Shaylee made some very rude observations at her most arrogant.
"Go home, Erica." I stood abruptly, chopping the air with one hand, cutting her off. "We're done here."
She hovered another moment, face twisting in sadness and fear before she turned and walked to the door. She stood there a long moment, fingers on the handle. "It's not true," she whispered.
"Yes," I said, sad, tired, worn down and just wanting her to go away. "It is."
Erica sobbed once before leaving.
The next time you decide to use me in your little games, I snapped the thought at Gram, you damned well tell me you're doing it or you'll never, ever do it again.
It needed to happen. Gram's power shrugged.
Where are you? I sagged into my seat again.
Watching. Waiting. Her mind's voice drifted off. Stay strong. And whatever you do, don't show them a moment's weakness.
She was gone before I could demand answers. Not like I didn't know why the warning. Celeste was just waiting for me to screw this up.
Which made me wonder, with returning anger and a healthy shot of suspicion, whose side Erica was really on.
***
