Chapter 581: Out Of Control
Panic drove me through the door, power gathered, expecting a battle with sorcery, the Brotherhood, someone dying.
Enforcers flooded the doorway behind me, shoving me forward, gaping at Mia. Who stood, mouth wide open, on her bed. Screaming. Screaming, as if she were being murdered, at the top of her lungs. Even the Enforcers screeched to a halt and stared while Mia had a very ugly, very emotional breakdown.
"I WANT IT BACK!" Her wailing words drove spikes through my ears, the pain behind them almost as bad as the volume she used. No one had to ask her what "it" was. The blank absence of the family magic gaped like an open wound. I glanced toward Shenka who crouched on the floor, shielding Marie who sobbed, blood running from her nose. Whatever triggered Mia's eruption injured the young Dumont.
She's out of control. I sent that tight beam to the Enforcer beside me, the same woman I'd encountered at the front door. Do something.
I'm not allowed to interfere. The woman's equally tight reply came through as though she mentally clenched her teeth.
She had to be kidding me. Fine, I snapped back. Stay out of the way.
Magic surging, I stepped forward and reached for Mia, spinning power around her, cutting off her desperate yearning, tying her down with blue flames. She collapsed into the magic, but her rage didn't dissipate. Instead, she refocused it.
Guess where?
"GET OUT!" Her feeble energy battered against me like a butterfly trying to escape a glass jar. "AND TAKE YOUR WITCHES WITH YOU!"
And that was that. The Enforcer lieutenant shrugged at me, brow furrowed, mental voice apologetic as she spoke. You heard her, she sent. Time to go, Leader Hayle.
Damn it.
Damn it.
The twins appeared as if by magic-no kidding-the rest of my family joining her as I clomped my way down the wide stairs, fury waging war with guilt and disappointment while Mia's shrieking chased me all the way from her bedroom. The two Enforcer escorts didn't give me a chance to do much but head for the exit.
And honestly? At that point, it felt a lot like good riddance. Especially if I was right about the Brotherhood. If the sorcerer league hell-bent on destroying all magic but their own really was behind the theft of the Dumont power, I had my own troubles to consider. And Mia's family wasn't part of them.
Finally, Gram sent.
I almost missed him, the familiar pale, scarred face, white hair, diminutive body hiding behind a doorway. But his open smile and bright blue eyes stood out like a sore thumb in this house of pain and loss. When he waved at me, I nodded ever so slightly back. That seemed to be enough. He vanished as I passed out the front door of the Dumont mansion, hearing it boom shut behind me.
It wasn't until I delivered my people home again and walked into the kitchen with my entire body clenched to keep from flying apart I was able to formulate the words I needed.
"Why was Demetrius Strong at the Dumont mansion?" The former head of the Chosen of the Light tried several times to kill me before becoming an ally. Of sorts. If an insane sorcerer could be considered an ally.
Gram stood at the kitchen window, one foot tapping the floor, soundless in her fuzzy sock. When she turned to face me, her pinched expression told me she'd been as deep in her own thoughts as I had been in mine.
"Gram," I said while Shenka stepped aside, arms wrapped around herself. "You knew him before, when you were an Enforcer." She admitted as much, or gave me that impression, when Demetrius helped me against the vampire queens. "Who is he working for?"
Gram shrugged, a sharp, angry gesture. "I don't know," she said. "But if he's here, you can damned well believe we missed the obvious." One of her thin, wrinkled hands slammed down on the counter. "How did we miss it? How did we fail to realize the Brotherhood was the logical choice?"
I shuddered and turned from her, head down, hating to say what I did next. "Maybe because they wanted us to." Gram spun on me as though I'd slapped her even as I looked up and met her eyes, feeling a dullness rise inside me. "You know they've done it before. They're subtle enough at it, we'd never know."
Gram shook her head, white hair flying, rage striking sparks in her eyes. "No," she snapped. "No. I don't believe it." She stomped one foot, the floor shaking as her power expelled through the sole of her foot. "Absolutely not."
Well, if she was that sure... "Then why?"
Gram's scowl was so deep my face hurt in sympathy. "Because," she said. "We've been complacent. Too wrapped up in the loss of the power, in the tragedy, to think straight. Told to stay the hell out of it, weren't we?" She began to pace. "So no, not the Brotherhood, girl. They didn't put that suggestion in our heads." Gram stopped, faced me, the woman she was, the Enforcer who had been, showing in her eyes. "No, that was left by someone much closer to home."
I gasped as I made the connection. "You think Mom...?"
Gram spun so her back was to me, hands gripping the counter edge, gaze locked outside. "Miriam."
"But why?" Shenka spoke when I couldn't. Not while bile rose in my throat, my stomach churning, mix of rage and disbelief stabbing me so hard I almost threw up. "Why would Miriam use suggestion on us?"
"Only one answer to that," Gram said. "She already knew it was the Brotherhood and needed to protect Syd."
Oh no, she did not. "I'm going to kill her." It was the only logical next step. Murdering my mother. Absolutely.
Gram kicked the lower cupboards twice before turning again, pinning me with her faded blue eyes. "Me first," she said.
Shenka stepped between us as the plan formed and grew in our minds, the perfect plan to dispose of Mom's body when we were done. "She had her reasons," my second said in a voice meant to soothe. "Clearly she never expected Syd to try to investigate."
She knew me better than that. Which is why she used the suggestion. And it had to have cost her, considering it held for three days. Three wasted days.
She'd suffer. Oh, how she'd suffer.
Gram grunted, shoulders sagging. "It was a terrible decision," she said, voice falling to a whisper, "but I understand her motives. Might have done the same thing." Her eyes met mine again as I spluttered. "To save the family."
Those four words were a splash of cold water. Mom warned me, didn't she? And since when did I ever listen? Didn't give her the right to take matters into her own hands and I'd absolutely make sure she understood so in crystal clarity. But the family.
The family.
"I need to talk to her." Preferably after I'd cooled off a bit, but there was no helping my state of mind, not now. Not after I'd wasted three freaking days.
"What about Demetrius?" Shenka looked back and forth between us. She'd been filled in on everything and though she'd not met him, she understood how important he could be.
"I don't know," I said. "He used to lead the Chosen. Then he was working for Batsheva." I clenched my jaw against the memory of her fangs in my neck, comforted by the fact her shell grew mold in my basement. "He might be working for the Brotherhood now." Though Liander Belaisle, the Brotherhood leader I'd met when Trill and Owen Zornov first came into my life, treated Demetrius with nothing but disdain the last time they met one another.
And Demetrius swore to me he was on my side. The fact he showed himself gave me some comfort.
Some.
"Demetrius Strong had older masters even than the Brotherhood," Gram said, grim faced, but with a spark of hope in her voice. "The Steam Union recruited him long ago."
The what?
Gram must have known I'd just ply her with endless questions. For once, she gave up what she knew without a fight.
"There are two camps," she said. "The Brotherhood and the Steam Union. Both sects of sorcerers. Only one sect is out for magical domination. And the other wants to find a way we can all work together."
I snorted. Couldn't help it. The idea of good sorcerers made me want to puke all over again.
Gram pinned me with her gaze. "There are two sides to everything, girl," she said. "Don't ever forget it."
Fine. Whatever. "I'm going to see Mom," I said. "If Demetrius has something to share, he knows how to find us." I couldn't worry about him right now.
"Perfect," Gram said, linking her arm with mine, eyes glittering anger. "I'm coming with you."
A tiny, infinitesimal part of me actually felt sorry for Mom.
The rest of me still hadn't decided if she'd survive the encounter or not.
***
