Chapter 430: Mandatory Mom Visit

A quick talk with Sebastian, Sunny and Uncle Frank in on the action, and I had them up to date on the latest.
"So these children Belaisle seeks," Sebastian said, pacing with a glass of wine in his hand. At least, I think it was wine. Ew. "They are somehow vital to the war against the sorcerers."
"It's what the dream warning was about." I hesitated. "I've been trusting this maji," I said, not wanting to show weakness in front of the vampires even though I knew they'd be the last ones to judge me. "Maybe that's a bad idea."
Sunny's arms went around me, hugged me even as Sebastian shook his dark head, eyes meeting mine. "The maji are creators, Sydlynn," he said. "The sorcerers, destroyers. And I believe Belaisle himself was enough proof you're on the right side in this."
Exhale. Relief was a wonderful thing.
"Have you yet spoken to Miriam?" Sebastian set down his glass, the liquid shining in the light. Definitely wine. Though I still shuddered at the thought of the glass goblet full of a stickier substance. "Surely the High Council must play a part in this."
"If she'll listen." Not like Uncle Frank to be such a downer. But when I met his eyes, I shared his sentiment.
"I've kind of been putting it off." Not on purpose, per se. I'd been a little busy. But yeah, I'd known all along I'd have to fill Mom in at some point. "But you're right, Sebastian. She needs to know."
Here comes Syd with more bad news. I'm sure she'd be thrilled to see me.
I left them then, pausing next to the van while Charlotte looked at me as if she suspected I was about to leave her behind.
Which I was.
"I need you to take the van home." Oh, the resistance. Written all over her body, her face, in the snapping fury in her eyes, the way she tensed, upper body leaning toward me as though prepped to grab me if I tried to run. "Charlotte, please, listen." I handed her the keys, which she ignored. "I'll be fine. I'm going to see Mom. But those kids..." I pressed the keys into her hand, hearing the jangle as she dropped them, letting them fall to the gravel unclaimed. "They are more important than me, if Iepa is to be believed. And I do believe her. They need you, more than I do right now."
She swayed just a little. "You can't leave me," she said, a simple fact, the time of day or a casual comment between friends.
"I'll be right back." I took a step away from her, reaching for the veil. I didn't want to use my power on her, but I would if I had to. And I really needed-okay wanted-to face my mother alone. Not that I had anything against Charlotte, but I never had a second where she wasn't hovering around me, except when I was sleeping and I had the sneaking suspicion she checked in on me in the middle of the night. And though I knew it caused her discomfort, maybe it was time to start pushing her away a little at a time to see if we could stretch her boundaries.
And give me some freedom.
Charlotte quivered. "Don't. Please."
"I'm ordering you to go back to Wilding Springs," I said, "and watch over Trill and Owen."
The weregirl groaned, tongue snaking out to lick her lips, desperation in her eyes. "You swear you'll be right home?"
"There and back again." I crossed my heart, though hope to die didn't appeal to me.
"Go." She gritted her teeth, spinning away from me. "Just go."
She didn't have to tell me twice. And though it wasn't fair and I knew I was causing her anguish, I tore open the veil and set my path to Harvard.
I didn't get to ride the veil alone anymore. Charlotte was my constant companion since she'd bound herself to me, her misguided sense of honor compelling her to be my bodywere after her father failed to fulfill that same role. Now that I was on my own, I felt the pull of the veil much stronger, my demon's need for it roused. Her power pushed against the edges of Demonicon, the rubbery membrane calling me home. I exhaled sharply as I exited into the dark Old Yard of the college, the veil sucking at me, sealing shut with a sigh of disappointment.
A big reason to be thankful for my bodywere, one I hadn't counted on. Apparently, she also served as a buffer. I'd make sure to hug her when I returned home.
Trying not to think of the return trip and wondering if it would be worse the second time around, I entered Massachusetts Hall and climbed on board the elevator, the sigh of the doors closing and the climbing floors feeling like I was heading for some kind of prison. Shaking off my foreboding, I stepped off and into the main lobby outside Mom's quarters, reaching for her.
Only to find the place empty.
Just perfect. Though when I reached out in frustration, I realized she wasn't far. At University Hall, just across the Yard, in a meeting.
Syd. Mom's mind touched mine. What are you doing here?
We have to talk. I kept the thread tight, just for her. It's important.
She didn't brush me off, to my surprise. I'll be home soon.
Okay then. I let myself in, wandered through the dark-paneled rooms, past Meira's bedroom door all the way to the back of the building.
A kitchen? How had I never known Mom had a kitchen? Well, duh, Syd. Though, to be fair, it wasn't like I ate here much. And even when I did, I was confined to the dining room. For all I knew, food was magicked in, befitting a Council Leader.
Snort.
My stomach rumbled its happiness at the find and I was soon hip-deep in her refrigerator, hauling out ingredients.
By the time Mom walked through the door, I had two plates of fettuccine and chicken served up, garlic bread on the side, a nice salad to go with it. The smile she gave me, her tired expression and the welcoming hug accompanying it told me I'd done something right for once.
Maybe I was getting the hang of this good daughter thing at last.
A glass of white wine in her hand and the first few appreciative bites chewed and swallowed, Mom reached out and squeezed my hand.
"Thank you for this, sweetheart," she said. "I was going to grab a piece of toast and do some paperwork. This is much better."
"Where's Maurice?" Her constant companion as much as Charlotte was mine, the annoying little secretary was nowhere in sight. Wasn't complaining, considering we kind of abhorred each other.
"Still with the Council," Mom said. "I left him to sort the minutes." She winked.
Bless her.
"It's been a massive year," she said, swirling her noodles with her fork. "Working to unite the covens for common goals while speaking to other covens and Councils around the world." She sighed over another sip of wine. "Did I tell you, I'm trying to arrange a world conclave next summer." She wrinkled her nose with a smile. "Or the one after that. Witches are so slow to act."
I snorted. "Oh, really?"
She swatted my hand with a laugh, my mother, the one I loved and was hoping to see tonight, showing her face. "Brat," she said. "I love you, Syd."
Why did those words choke me up? Probably because I didn't hear them enough.
Or say them enough, for that matter.
"I love you too, Mom," I said. "How are you?" It was a sensitive subject, the whole Dad thing, one I never knew if I should bring up or not.
But Mom didn't shut down, at least. "I'm fine," she said. "I really am, Syd. I was prepared for this, remember?"
"Mom," I said, "I don't care if you knew the exact time and day, it's not something you just get over." I thought of Quaid, of Liam. What would it be like to love and marry and have kids only to watch my mate grow old and die while nothing changed for me?

Shudder. Not going there anytime soon.
Mom must have known I wasn't just talking about her, because she leaned over and kissed my cheek.
"We'll both be okay," she said. "We're Hayles, remember?"
"Right," I said with a little smile, going for the humor in it. "And Hayle witches are too stubborn to fail."
She laughed, a deep, rich sound, before leaning back again. Sighing. Setting down her glass while her blue eyes focused on mine.
"Now," she said, "tell me why you're really here."
Sucked. But, she was still my mom, hadn't retreated from me, wasn't Council Leader Miriam Hayle, so I drew a deep breath and told her everything.
Mom steepled her fingers together, eyes never leaving mine. She asked the odd question but, for the most part, just let me ramble on until I was done, finishing with the confrontation with Belaisle.
"Sorcerers." Mom let her hands fall to the table, toying with the edge of her napkin. "My darling Syd, you have a way of making life so interesting." Her smile was warm, but brittle around the edges. "In a way, he's right, Belaisle. This isn't any of our business."
Um, what? "Sorry?"
"We're witches," she said. "Interfering on purpose in the workings of other magical races isn't our job, Syd." She shook her head as I spluttered at her, unable to come up with anything to say. "Listen to me, sweetheart, please." She grasped my hand again, but this time I wanted to pull away. "I know how you feel, I really do. If I were in your position, I'd probably be in your seat, talking to my Council leader. But Syd, she'd tell me the same thing I'm telling you. We can't get involved. To do so risks a war none of us are ready for."
My hands shook as I slid free of her and clasped them in my lap, clenched against my rising temper. She sounded just like the man I'd confronted. "You don't think the sorcerers are a threat?"
She shook her head, suddenly angry. "No, not at all," she said. "I know they are. But I won't start a confrontation I can't win."
"If helping others isn't witch business, what is?" I pushed my chair back, surging to my feet, resisting the urge to pace. "Besides, there is so much more to this than just simple witch politics. I haven't been 'just' a witch for a long time." Like that was her problem. Okay, well, it was, considering I was a coven leader under her command. Time to remind her. "This was dropped on my doorstep for a reason, and I refuse to walk away from anyone in need." I drew a breath and crossed a line I swore I wouldn't out of fear of the answer. "You told me, when you accepted this role, the Hayle coven would never again have to worry, that no matter what happened we'd always have support from the Council." I watched her face fall, saw in her eyes how she begged me not to go on, but I couldn't stop. "Council Leader, I'm asking for your help."
Mom sighed, deep and long, head down, before standing herself, lifting her gaze to mine. Her face was blank, calm, eyes guarded. "It's not that easy," she said. "The Council can't help you, coven leader. And I advise you to distance yourself from this matter, for the sake of your coven."
That was that, then. We stood there, face-to-face, neither of us bending. I needed to leave before something broke.
She let me go, not a touch of magic, nor an offer of a motherly hug. I wouldn't have accepted either, so it was just as well.

***