Chapter 583: Council Rules
I spent the next two heartbeats looking back and forth between my mother and my grandmother, mouth opening and closing as I tried to comprehend the stupidest thing I'd heard in my entire life.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Okay, I didn't mean to jump on Mom like that, I really didn't. But it came out, boy did it ever, in absolute shock.
I could have been more tactful, I know that now. But I really think, no matter how I called her an idiot, Mom's reaction would have been the same.
The tell-tale mask of cold rose, her whole body rigid.
Yup, went too far this time, Syd.
Every time.
"Dinner is over." Mom swept from the table, returning to her desk, back to us. "Return to your family, Coven Leader, and leave this matter to me."
I hated it-hated it so much-when she pulled the Council Leader bullcrap on me. My mind reached out for hers, to connect. Met empty blankness.
Before blue fire crackled over my mind and sent me staggering back with a cry of pain.
"How dare you?" Mom strode forward, flames rippling around her, the power of her office raging as she towered over me where I bent in half, my hands pressed to my temples. I heard the growl of Charlotte's wolf, dimly registered her yip of hurt.
Tell me she didn't just attack Charlotte, too. Oh hell no. I wasn't taking that from her, no way, no how. My own magic answered, all the power at my command rising in a wave of fury as I straightened to face the woman before me, ready to fight.
Charlotte crouched beside me, blue power crackling over her as she twitched and whined, the wolf in her fighting to escape while Mom's magic flared, blue eyes full of rage. I severed the attack with power of my own, felt the wards in the room spring to life, ready to come for me if I acted again, knew without a doubt this place was coming down and I couldn't wait to tear it apart with my bare hands.
No one hurt Charlotte. No one.
Gram's hand pressed to my chest, sliding through the sparking energy surrounding me while her other fisted, tapping against Mom's shoulder. Something snapped inside me, sending me backward again, this time with horror growing in my gut, the knowledge I would have attacked my own mother given another moment.
And that she'd already attacked me.
Mom's face twisted, tears rising in her eyes, her magic retreating, one hand rising toward me.
"Syd," she whispered, before turning to Charlotte, hand over her mouth in horror. "I'm so sorry."
No way. Not now. Maybe later.
Maybe.
"Let's go, girl," Gram said, taking my elbow, leading me to the door, my bodywere firmly gripped in her other hand. The wards around the exit flared and fell as Mom broke them to allow us to leave. I refused to look back, my heart thudding in my chest, pain like I'd never known driving spikes through my chest while Charlotte snarled over her shoulder before thudding the door firmly shut behind her.
I collapsed against a chair as the door closed behind me, clutching at my throat while the agony rose. Pain ripped through me, my heart stuttering a few beats. Had Mom done some damage I missed, her power still coming for me?
Gram pulled me to her, power sliding over me, supporting me as I realized the hurt I felt wasn't physical.
I don't know why it hit me so hard just then, the fact my own mother struck at me with her magic, treated me like an enemy. No matter what happened, she'd always managed to see past her anger and admit I was right.
That I'd done what I had to do.
Not this time. My mother just attacked me for trying to reach out to her. And now my heart wanted to die.
I gasped for air, unable to focus, shoving away from Gram, staggering through the sitting room in Mom's quarters, not seeing the dark wood walls, the glaring eyes of the portraits of other Leaders. Not caring that Mom's hideous little secretary, Maurice, glared as he huffed past, an arrogant sneer on his face. I made it to the hall, the elevators, fell inside one, barely catching myself as I grasped the hand rail and clutched it like a life line as the sobs threatening to tear me in two finally escaped.
I'd survived so much over the years since Batsheva Moromond and her evil husband tried to take over my family. Through pain and loss and heartache, I'd always had Mom to lean on, in the end. Even when I didn't think it was true, she had my back, did her best, even when I lost it.
But she'd never, not in our darkest moments, ever struck me with magic. The dull memory of her hand on my cheek reminded me of the one and only blow she'd delivered, so long ago I barely remembered being sixteen and a pain in the ass.
This. This was so different that slap didn't even qualify in the same category.
Gram's hand settled on my back, rubbed small circles while I choked on my tears, on my disbelief, more shaken than really damaged. I turned to her, hugged her, trembling so violently I thought I might fall. Gram held me up, slim body stronger than I'd given her credit for, cheek pressed to my hair as she rocked me gently.
Girl, she sent. I know. And if I could save you from this, I would.
I couldn't form a coherent thought, not yet.
Listen to me, she sent. Your mother... the pressure of her job, of keeping you safe... I'm not making excuses. Her anger flared, settled. And turning on you was inexcusable. But you have to pull yourself together.
I didn't want to hear it, hear her. No matter what happened, what mess I was in, Mom never, ever lashed out at me like that.
Heartbreaking.
Sydlynn. Gram's voice cut through my grief. Enough.
I snuffled, pulled back from her, feeling like the support system of my entire life just shattered under me and left me to dangle over a chasm of darkness.
The elevator dinged, the doors opening to the bottom floor. Gram guided me out, past a pair of startled looking witches who dodged the still furious and hyper-protective Charlotte, my grandmother's arm linked through mine as I wiped at my cheeks with my sleeve, the fragments of my soul weeping and raging in alternating surges, my alter egos fighting for balance.
Gram planted me on a bench, Charlotte hovering, vibrating with rage, behind me. My grandmother held my hands while I vented the last of my emotions. By the time I was done, tears dried, mind and body numb, hands still shaking, my anger had won.
"There's something wrong with Mom." I couldn't bring myself to believe she'd acted of her own free will. She had to be under some kind of control, coercion...
Gram watched, silent and grim until I finally had to look away.
There was nothing wrong with Mom. Except I'd finally pushed her past the point of no return.
"Are you done?" There wasn't any judgment in Gram's question, but I felt her impatience and shrugged.
"Whatever," I said, rising to my feet, turning my back on Massachusetts Hall and my mother. No more running to her when things went wrong. No more keeping her informed, Council Leader or not. She made it clear I was no longer welcome.
Mom and I were through.
I met Charlotte's eyes, felt her barely contained rage. Reached for her with my magic, felt the pain in her, that Mom hurt her after all. Healed what I could with my spirit magic, my vampire whispering softly to me, whispers I ignored as Charlotte's skin, once covered in a pattern of dark red burns healed to normal pale tan.
Unbelievable. And unacceptable.
I had to get the hell out of here before my anger drove me back into Mom's office to finish what she started.
Gram's arm slid through mine again. Before I could slice open the veil to take us home, she turned us and steered me toward the other side of campus.
We're not going home just yet, Gram sent. That is, if you're still willing to break a few of your mother's precious rules?
Since when had rules stopped me? I frowned at her as my feet followed, carrying me along, my bodywere pacing behind us.
Where are we going? I firmly stuffed Mom's betrayal to the back of my mind. I'd dig it out later, dissect it, rage and weep over it some more before smothering it in chocolate.
Coping mechanisms rocked.
If we get caught, Gram sent, this was your idea. She cackled a moment before falling silent. I'm serious, girl. We'll both be arrested and they won't even make keys for our cells. If we get cells. More like bottomless pits.
Warning received. Recklessness roused. I'm in, I sent.
Gram paused, turned to me, a frown creasing her wrinkled brow. I really should go alone, she sent. But you're the only one who can get us the information we desperately need.
Where are we going, exactly? I kept moving as she began her tromping way again, glad for the distraction, for something to focus on besides my flaring anger as the peak of Memorial Chapel came into view.
To see Ameline, of course, Gram sent.
A black blot in my soul rejoiced.
The perfect revenge against my mother. I'd take it.
***
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