Chapter 776: Raising Ghosts
I gaped at her for a long, long time. It felt like forever as the tiny hope I'd fought bloomed like a rose, flared and woke inside me while my soul leaped up and shouted in joy.
Gabriel.
Not his bones.
My egos freaked out, shouting, buzzing with power, so violently I had to hold myself very still for fear I'd fly apart. We reached out for him, found nothing, not a trace, a sniff.
If he was alive, if I could let myself believe... where was he?
Alison continued to watch me, concern on her face, breathing heavily as she, too, must have fought her emotions.
I finally felt my egos still a little, reined them in.
Listen, I snarled.
And they did.
"Whose bones are they?" Teeth clenched, throat tight, barely able to force the words out.
I managed.
Alison shrugged. "I don't know," she said. "Usually bones carry an imprint of the person who lived in them." Shiver. "But these felt blank. Black."
Empty.
Sharp pain wrenched at my insides as truth woke and punched me in the gut.
Alison went on, oblivious. "No echo, no imprint of Sidhe, no Gabriel." She touched my hand one more time. "I don't know if your son is still alive," she said, "but the body they interred wasn't his."
The veil parted before me, Ahbi's eagerness turned to fear as I grasped Alison's hand and jerked her inside, Max following after. My demon grandmother's spirit fought me, buffered at Alison with energy, but I shoved her off and forced the veil open.
In the middle of Mom's bedroom.
She stood there, panic on her face, everyone with her. Charlotte barked in fury at the sight of Alison, lunged forward with her wolf in her eyes, twisting her face even as Mom's power crackled.
And Max stopped them. All of them. Sassafras. Trill and Lula. Shenka and Gram. The vampires I loved, even Sebastian. And Quaid.
"Listen to her." I shoved Alison forward, harder than I intended, making her stagger. But she didn't seem hurt by my rudeness. Instead, she bowed her head to Mom and spoke, though her voice shook.
No one moved as Alison told them what she told me. Every time she said Gabriel's name, my heart healed a little more. A rising passion washed away my hate and guilt, leaving behind a powerful need, so strong it almost tore me apart.
I had to find my son.
And kill the person who stole him from me.
Lula looked troubled when Alison was done. Troubled and doubtful.
I would not allow doubt, not now.
"Syd," the healer said, "I checked Gabriel myself. There was no mistake."
Screw her. I focused on Mom. Who looked at me with a mix of her own concern and fear, as though I'd lost my mind, somehow fallen under Alison's spell.
"Just take me to him," Alison said. "I'll show all of you."
There. See? I stared at Mom, glared at her. Expectant.
But it was Sassafras who broke the dangerously growing silence.
"Oh, for the love of the elements," he snapped, hopping down from the bed and waddling his fat cat body to my feet. "What can it possibly hurt at this point?"
Mom exhaled.
"Miriam," Quaid's deep voice shook. "I'll take her if you won't."
I smiled at him. Beamed, wanted to go to him and hug him for speaking out when everyone else seemed ready to deny even the possibility I was right. Even Sass didn't trust me. I could see it in his face. Or that Alison knew what she was talking about.
I'd kiss Quaid later for his faith.
Mom finally nodded. Turned to Lula who also nodded.
That's right. Just nod your freaking heads. I'd show them.
Gabriel was alive.
All that mattered.
I knew what they were thinking as I spun and left the room, could feel the murmurs in their minds. Whisperings of "closure" and "This will be good for her."
They had no freaking idea.
Alison took my hand, hesitant and I smiled at her. Beamed.
Knew in my heart he was okay.
Dragged her along, Max beside me, Mom hurrying ahead to lead us out. To the elevator.
But not into the Yard, not yet. Down deeper, underground. I knew the bones of fallen North American witches were archived and kept safe at Harvard, could only guess European families had their own storage at Oxford, others around the world in safe caches like this one. But I'd never been down into the catacombs, had no real desire.
Until now.
It was dark, quiet, a little humid. Mom lit the way as the elevator opened, disgorging the near dozen of us into the stone hallway. Her witchlight cast blue over everything, long shadows chasing down the corridor. I drew a sharp breath at the feeling of echoes around me. It had been years since I'd been troubled by them. Aside from Alison, that was. But down here, surrounded by the history of our race on this continent, it was impossible not to sense them.
Gram joined Mom at the front, scooting around me as we passed a corner, not meeting my eyes, her fuzzy socks silent on the stone floor. It wasn't until we rounded the bend I saw someone waited for us up ahead, a flare of blue fire dying as Varity Rhodes joined the party.
Weird how it felt like a party to me. I wanted to dance, sing, shout, laugh. No, I didn't have proof. But I didn't need it. How had I allowed myself to believe he was dead? Now that I understood, I knew he was still alive. I'd fallen into the gray out of reaction to Liam's loss. But Gabriel...
No, I couldn't find him. Feel him. Yet.
Didn't matter.
My son was alive.
Had to be.
We neared Varity who stood outside a heavy steel door. The hall was lined with them, going on into the darkness, more bends, branches. I knew I'd be lost down here in a heartbeat without a map.
Good thing I wasn't alone.
Mom gestured at the door, blue magic flaring around the edges. It groaned and creaked, the hinges grinding as it swung outward. I wanted to be the first inside, but something hit my legs, made me look down.
Sassafras stared up at me, paws rising to my knee.
I bent without thinking, swept him into my arms. Buried my face in his fur.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Syd," he said. "I hope she's right."
I nodded into his mane. "She is."
"And if she's not?"
No. Stop.
"She's right." I strode forward then, looking up, finding we were the last to enter, though Max and Charlotte remained at the door, flanking it like a pair of bodyguards.
I kissed my werefriend on the way by, caught her as she turned her head, cheeks wet.
Let her cry.
I was about to prove to her-to all of them-my son was fine.
Well, Alison was going to prove it.
Good enough for me.
I wasn't expecting the reception I received. Stopped dead in my tracks-no pun intended-as I started down the narrow room toward the back of the vault.
They lined the way, echoes of witches long passed. A stunning dark-haired woman held a tall, handsome man's hand. They waved at me as I walked by. The gorgeous woman who was next made Sassafras shudder and look away. I glanced down at him. Stopped and met her eyes.
"Who is she?" I peered behind her at the small plate over the stone box holding her bones. "Thaddea Ethpeal." I looked up again as she smiled and Sassafras sighed.
Turned his head to look at the witch who gave me my middle name.
"Hullo, Thad," he said.
She blew him a kiss, laughed silently.
The beautiful red-head beside her did the same.
"Auburdeen," Sass said, voice dull and sad.
So this was the infamous Burdie I'd heard about. I stopped in front of her, too. She pressed both hands over her heart, pointed at the tall man beside her.
"Gabriel," Sass whispered, making me jump.
I smiled at Burdie, at her husband. Nodded. Turned and went to Mom, passing more witches who waved and beamed and gestured me onward.
Toward the back of the vault. Gram waited with Varity beside a tiny stone box, a little gold plate carved, fresh and bright.
I knew what it said. Gabriel Liam Hayle. His birthdate and the lie of his death.
Alison paused next to me, shivering, hugging herself, but she kept her eyes focused on the box.
"Coven Leader," Varity said softly, though her voice carried. "You're certain?"
"Just open it," I said.
She turned without another word and touched it.
The top gasped, as though a life escaped. But no echo rose. No hint of Gabriel.
More hope. Yes, yes.
Gram stepped back, Varity keeping her position as Alison slipped forward.
The old Enforcer leader reached into the box.
Lifted out the tiniest little human skull I'd ever seen.
So. Tragic. But not my son.
Not.
The moment she exposed the baby's bones, the whispering began. My name. Gabriel's. Over and over, as my ancestors spoke to me, promise in their echo voices. And a hand, steady and strong, settled on my shoulder, warm breath over my cheek, the welcome, familiar support of Quaid's magic holding me up, feeding my belief with the steady presence of his own faith my son was alive.
Varity cradled the skull, pouring power into it as I'd seen Gram do once before. She'd raised the echoes of those she knew could save Mom when she was on trial. A lifetime ago.
If anyone could find Gabriel's echo, it was Varity, I knew that.
All I could do was pray she failed.
***
