Chapter 298: Gram's Support
I was almost ready to move on when I felt her mind touch mine.
I knew you were the right witch for the job. Gram's mental voice cackled. The look on their faces when you pulled that stunt...
She was here? You're here?
Listen up. Her magic cracked like a whip, making me jump. A pair of older witches eyed me like I might be dangerous and hurried on. I turned my back on the entrance and the trickle of witches still arriving as Gram went on. I want you to ignore everything Erica or anyone else tells you and only do what I say.
I almost sagged in relief. You're staying with me?
Hush, child, she sent, though her tone was gentle and loving. Pay attention. Have I not told you over and over again you need to pay attention?
She had. And not when she was fully sane, either. And she'd always been right. Without a doubt, beyond question, and without hesitation I put everything in her hands.
What do you want me to do?
You need to start balancing out the power around here. She sounded annoyed. Start making friends. You know how to do that, right?
Even my grandmother was a smartass. I found myself grinning and blushing while she cackled a laugh.
I doubt anyone will want to admit they know me, Gram. Not after they learned of the charges against Mom.
Nonsense, she said. Trust me. Now, the moment you walk in there, own it. Don't stop, don't think, just go right to where the coven leaders are sitting and take Miriam's chair.
I choked on that. What?
You can't miss them, she went on. Right hand side, on a dais. Like the queens they think they are.
Okay. I drew a breath, held it. What if they ask me to leave?
They won't. Now, as soon as you get the chance, appoint Erica as the Hayle Coven member of Council.
Member of... What are you up to?
Just do it, Syd. Her mental voice sighed. The Council has been cutting the Hayle family out since the Tremeres lost power over a hundred and fifty years ago. But the Hayle seat is still there for the taking. And we need all the help we can get. Follow me?
Of course I did. Okay. Done. I paused. Then what?
Again the cackling laugh like the wicked old witch she was. Then we watch a few choice people have collective breakdowns.
I wished I felt as confident in what I was about to do as she did. Gram, I sent in a whisper. Thank you.
Oh my darling girl, she sent back, do you know how much I love you? Now git.
I got. And she came with me.
I think it was the only reason I had the courage to do what she needed me to. Shoulders back, my own private support group in my head, I put on my best Mom face and marched right through the door.
Gram was correct about not being able to miss the leaders. The room looked like some kind of theater, though the stage was set in the center. Padded bleachers lined the artfully painted wall behind me, a raised platform with a long table at the back. A podium closed in by carved wooden half-walls stood in the middle. More bleachers and seating lined the far left while a group of women sat on another elevated spot to the right, boxed in like a private viewing area.
Even though I felt Erica's panic, the pull of my own nerves, the shock of the gathered witches as they watched as one, I made a straight shot toward the only empty seat in the box, in the second row.
I noticed a few raised eyebrows from the ladies I joined while battling Erica's attempts to reach me, blocked solidly by Gram who didn't let me falter. The cushion beneath me was soft, almost too soft and, for a moment as I sank into it, I worried it was some kind of trap, there to swallow me and never let me go.
Everyone stared, but no one said a word, though I turned my head just enough to spot Odette Dumont in the row in front of me and to my left, glaring over her shoulder. I could barely look at her, and not just because I couldn't stand her. Every time I caught a glimpse my memory took me back to the night at the Hilltop Hotel when she'd finally lost her veneer of beauty, revealing the withered, horrible creature she really was under the glamour she hid behind. No matter how beautiful she pretended to be, the true form of Odette was forever burned into my mind.
I let out some air, feeling a little dizzy from holding my breath. The woman beside me stirred and, attracted by the motion, I met her eyes. She was young, older than me, but much younger than anyone else in the line-up of leaders. Her nearly black eyes met mine for a moment before she winked at me.
My lips twitched, I couldn't help it. The leader just past her moved forward and nodded to me before leaning back.
I faced front then, feeling much better.
Doubter, Gram said. Told you.
Did we actually, really have a chance to pull this off?
And what exactly were we pulling off, anyway?
I was just so happy to still be in one piece I didn't bother pushing Gram further.
So far, so good.
Syd! Erica's mental voice finally reached me. What the hell are you doing? I finally allowed myself to look at her, seated in the gallery with the rest of the coven witches. She was white as a sheet, one hand clasped over her mouth, the other pressed to her chest. If it wasn't so deadly serious, it would have been comical.
I have a plan. I very firmly cut her off, watched her hand drop from her mouth as her jaw worked, throat constricting as she tried to swallow what I'd told her. Quaid met my gaze with a level look, but I knew he had to be dying of curiosity.
So was I for that matter.
Syd, Gram snapped, will you please pay attention?
Right. I'm listening.
Take notes. She huffed a mental breath. To your direct left is Tallah Hensley, the leader of the Hensley Coven, south west district.
The woman who winked at me, her gorgeous dark skin matching the lovely depth of her eyes.
She's the youngest of the bunch and the most progressive, Gram told me, but even though her coven is powerful, it's young, only about seventy five years old, so she could be an ally, but without the juice of some of the others.
Juice? When did my grandmother start talking like a street hood?
Her Council member is Lauren Noble, also young. Her second is her sister, Sashenka, also very young, your age, I think. You'll find easy allies in them, but we need more.
I made an effort to smile at Tallah who smiled back, brilliant white teeth against polished dark skin.
Okay. I could do this.
Beside her is Irene Bradford, Bradford Coven. Her second didn't make the trip but her Council member is Phyllis Gaines. I glanced at the woman who had leaned forward to nod at me, took note of the perfection of her upswept hair, the powder sitting in the creases of her wrinkled face. But she looked kind, at least.
She controls the south central territory. They are both good women, Syd, but could sway either way.
I wished I had a pen. Or my cell phone. I would never remember all of this.
In front of you is Benita Santos, second is Janet Muchin. I checked out the back of the old woman's head, her iron gray hair in a no-nonsense short cut making her look masculine. Her member is Huan Wong, south east territory. This is an old coven, Syd, but not the oldest. They've been known to keep close ties with the Dumonts, so it's likely we'll run into resistance from them when Odette decides she needs someone to speak up.
Good to know. I didn't like her already.
Beside her is Violet Rhodes, second Alberta Morris. The old lady chose the exact moment to turn toward me. She had the sweetest cherub face, tiny features and lovely white hair. Her pink cheeks wrinkled, eyes sparkling as she waved at me like she was happy to see me. North west. Member is her sister, Willa. Gram sighed softly. I've known them a long time. Or used to know them. I like them both.
I did too. I found myself smiling and waving back at Violet who wound up her face in an impish smile before turning front, one hand smacking Odette beside her as she giggled.
Only problem, Violet is a stickler for the law. Gram sounded annoyed by that. Still, she's the head of one of the oldest covens, so if we can recruit her to support us, Odette will be up a very nasty creek without a life preserver.
I could live with that.
The last one you know. Gram's tone was grim. Odette Dumont, north central, second used to be Andre, her son. She's since appointed him to the Council and, in typical Dumont controlling fashion, acts without a second. Gram snorted. With her next option Ameline Benoit, no wonder she's going it alone.
I found myself scowling at Ameline's name and focused on the topic at hand. A man? Not that there was anything wrong with it, but we tended to remain in a matriarchal structure.
Unusual, Gram said, but perfectly legal. Still, I think it might work to our advantage. The other ladies will be uncomfortable with him, I'm thinking.
Hopefully.
That leaves us, Gram sent. North east territory. And no member on Council thanks to years of jealousy and allowing ourselves to be pushed out so the boat doesn't get rocked. We're about to stir up a storm, girl, and those old biddies better be ready to get soaked.
How do you know all of this? I found myself shaking my head and forced myself to stillness. Wouldn't do for the others to think I was crazy. Or hearing voices.
Heh.
What do you think I've been doing all this time, silly child? Gram's amusement was infectious. I hid a grin behind a cough and a covering hand. Someone had to figure out what to do when the crap hit the fan.
A surge of gratitude and love washed over me, bringing unexpected tears to my eyes. I'm so glad you're here.
Tell me when this is over. Gram hugged me mentally, but didn't get a chance to say anything else. The little secretarial man entered the room, a handful of black pages in his grip.
"All present and accounted for," he said, whiny voice carrying. More magic I figured. "Conclave will commence. All rise for your High Council."
This was it. I felt myself swept up to my feet by the energy of the others in the room, unable to unclench my hands from the death grip I held on Mom's velvet skirt.
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