I hated funerals and my great aunt Camilla’s was no exception. The fact that my mother decided to hold it the night before the bonfire seemed insensitive even for her. In fact the whole event was a glaring epitaph for why I disliked funerals. Too few people were crying. And too many that were seemed pretentious. Over dramatized, as though they were trying to prove something. Or hide something. Everyone dressed in drab bland shades of black and gray; as if that was different from any other day. This whole town was funeral-ready on a moment’s notice.
Something twisted inside me. Even though I had a hard time mustering up tears over her death, I felt a deep sadness. She had been as innocent as I was guilty. I was a witch. She wasn’t. It wasn’t her fault Gran made the choices she did. At first she was following her beliefs, in trying to help the witch hunters. Now I know she’d had a change of heart and was trying to protect my family. And me. This was the ultimate punishment for her treason. I still wasn’t sure how my life had gone from normal and mundane to the brinks of insanity. Filled to capacity with good faeries and bad, witches and witch hunters, and me at the hub, spinning wildly out of control. At least it seemed that way to me.
The night Gran died, I'd known it was coming. She was in an accident. But it was more than that. There were forces at play I couldn't understand at the time. I still don't, entirely. But at least I'm able to make some sense of it. I don't think anyone noticed the way I clung to her hand as she took her last breaths. Or the way she squeezed mine in return, whispering, “Never change.”
After she was gone, I crawled into myself, refusing to talk or cry or deal with any of it. Just the thought brought me back to the day they told us my father had died. Once again I withdrew. I curled up in a safe corner of my mind, refusing to come out, until my mother took me to Dr. Greenbalm. Now I know that my shrink was an excommunicated elven royal from Mythlandria, and that Gran was involved with some shady hunters. Things had never been as they seemed.
They lowered Camilla’s casket into the ground. I shuddered. I was surrounded by enemies, closing in on all sides. And the safe place I used to turn to in my mind, had been invaded by a Shadow faerie whose thoughts could infiltrate mine. There was no running and hiding from this. I had to take action before anyone else died. And someone else would. Someone always did. My stomach turned over hard, as I silently accepted the fate I knew I'd been assigned. Gotta love being the savior.
As we filed slowly out of the cemetery and back to the cars, one singular thought lingered, nagging at me. I peered over my shoulder to make sure we weren’t within earshot. Then I turned to Adrius.
“I think we should break up.”
His brows tightened as he looked at me. Then he squinted, tilting his head to the side.
“Why?” he drew out the word, suspiciously.
He knew me well enough to know this had to be part of a crazy idea. It was, of course.
“If we can throw Venus off track at least for a little while, maybe we can have time to pull this spell together.”
He stopped walking, and his eyes searched mine for a moment. “I don’t think Venus did this to Camilla,” he said slowly.
“I know, but that’s only because she was already gone. If she thinks we’re not together any more, maybe it will keep her from hurting anyone for a while.”
“She’ll never believe it. She would sense something was up.”
“Not if we sell it. And get everyone else to buy it as well,” I said. “We make it public. Then at the bonfire, you go to her for comfort or something.” I paused so as not to gag on my own suggestion. “I’ll ignore you and word will spread. You know how gossip travels. Especially if Brianne’s in on it.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, Lorelei. What if this only increases her need to spread harm? It seems too risky.”
“I’m telling you this will work. It has to. We just have to make her believe. The only hard part will be staying away from you for that long.”
Adrius sighed. “Hard, no.” His arms looped around my waist and he pulled me closer. “Impossible, yes.”
I leaned my head against his arm and we headed for the car.
“You stabbed that goblin with a flaming blade. Venus has access to magic. And I think I do too.”
His designer navy suit had darkened to black from the misty drizzle, like the damp charcoal waves of his hair. The ebony umbrella he held over my head did precious little to protect him from the unrelenting showers.
The frown lines marring his face deepened. “I shouldn’t have been able to. All manner of magic seems to be getting through.” He opened the car door for me. “Things are changing,” he said, closing it once I was safely inside.
I leaned my head back against the seat and gazed out toward the place where we’d just buried my great aunt’s remains. Light rain speckled the windows, distorting my view. My mind sped as the car pulled away from the cemetery. Change. It was the only constant. If magic was accessible now to all beings from Mythlandria, that meant Venus was right. I had access to dark magic, just as the sygil had forewarned.
“I want to apologize for the other night and dropping the bombshell of Peterson’s offer. I feel like I blindsided you. It was selfish.”
His expression didn’t change. “You shouldn’t be afraid to tell me anything, Lorelei. We are together in this. Never lose sight of that.”
“I won’t.” I couldn’t. Every thought I had could be traced back to him. I really was sorry. I hated that he felt trapped. Like he was begin forced to choose between who he was and me. “I’m not trying to make it a competition between your life and mine. I just…” the words slipped away.
He reached out to hold my hand. “I understand, Lorelei. You chose the only option you could, given the circumstances. No one knows like I do how much you’ve had to sacrifice. I’m not judging your actions.”
“But you must hate me for them at least a little.”
He smiled slightly. “I could never hate you. Your happiness is important to me. Second only to your safety. Both of those would be looked after with this plan. If it were to work,” he added.
I nodded. It was a huge if. But one I was willing to risk. For him. For us. Why then couldn’t I swallow the guilt consuming me inside?
“I really am sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “I’m not. How could I be sorry to have a girlfriend who loves me enough to change who she is to be with me?
“It’s not something I’d even ask of you, you realize. I love you. And I will always put you first. Always.”
“Thank you, for being you,” I whispered. How was it possible that I was more in love with him than I was just a moment ago?
“So this plan of yours. When do you want to start?”
“I haven’t told you all the details yet,” I said cautiously. He wasn’t going to like the part I’d left out. “Once we’ve suppressed her powers—”
“If you suppress her powers…” he corrected.
“We will take her back to your world.”
He frowned. “What do you mean we?”
I took a breath. “I mean you, Zanthiel and me.”
He was shaking his head before I finished. “No. No way.”
“It’s the only way this will work, Adrius. You need me. My powers are stronger there.”
“You're being unreasonable, Lorelei.”
“You said you'd do whatever it took for us to be together.”
“Yes I did. But when I said it, I assumed you'd understand I meant whatever it took that wouldn’t get you killed.” His grip tightened on the wheel.
“This won't get me killed. I'm so much better at the spells than I used to be,” I said.
“And Venus has full use of her powers. You can't fight against that and win.”
“I don't plan on fighting her. I plan on incapacitating her, just long enough for us to get her back to your world.”
He shook his head. “We are not discussing this, Lorelei. The answer is no.” He glared at me hard.
I lifted my chin. “You don't get to decide for me, Adrius. I think we established that a long time ago.”
“We also established that I would never support anything that puts you in greater danger. Are you not in enough already without adding to it?”
“Don't you see, this would be making things easier. Better for everyone.”
“How much better will it be when my father’s guards remove your head for treason?” he growled. “Or Venus invokes enough power over me to force me to do it? What if I killed you?”
I touched his hand. “You won’t,” I said softly. “You fought it before. You can do it again.”
“Don’t be so certain of that.” His eyes locked on the road as we turned onto my street. “The effort nearly killed me. Doing it again would weaken me to a point where I couldn’t help protect you from those out to kill you. You’d be vulnerable to Venus and my father’s knights hunting you. I couldn’t live with myself if I lost you. Like my mother.” He turned away and raked a hand through his hair.
I felt the pain of that memory seep into my heart. “Adrius.” I put my hand on his arm. “I have Octãhvia's power inside of me. I am strong.”
“Strong with powers from the dark witch’s magic and the Shadow faerie’s kiss,” he bit back. “How long before it takes control of you completely?”
My hand fell away. It had been some time since we'd discussed Zanthiel’s kiss of memory, but it obviously hadn’t strayed too far from his mind.
“Are you so desperate that you're willing to lose it all, including yourself?”
I leaned back against the car seat and sighed. Once again we'd reached an impasse. Neither one of us would be willing to concede to the other. It was like that a lot lately. He refused to see reason for fear of losing me, and I refused to lose him for fear of doing nothing. We had to find a middle ground and fast. Time was literally running out. The veil would close soon and we'd be separated. Either on my side or his. I was all too aware that any day now, one of these kisses could be our last.
Cars lined the street in front of my house. Adrius parked on the side of the road, cut the engine and then faced me. His expression softened. “Let’s just get through one tragedy at a time. We can talk more about this later,” he promised.
I watched as a couple walked past our car, and into my house where fifty of Camilla’s least closest friends were gathered. She’d be appalled to find most of them here… probably calling them a bunch of hypocrites from her grave.
“I don’t want to go in there,” I said sullenly.
Never judgmental, he smiled. “We won’t stay long. Be a good girl and make an appearance and we can go anywhere you want after that.”
How was a girl to resist an offer like that? I climbed out of the car, dreading the walk to my front door.
Camilla was gone. Dead. They planted her in the ground at noon and then served a catered lunch at one. This wasn’t the closure I’d been seeking.
There were too many questions left unanswered. Did Peterson know she was dead? Had he been involved? Or was this somehow the doing of the super-secret organization he worked for? That seemed more likely to me, though I couldn’t be certain that wasn’t just wishful thinking. I mean, when you’ve put your hope for a normal life in someone, you want that someone not to be a murderer.
Seeing all of these people milling about made me angry. I wanted someone to do more than gather to grieve. Or offer the respectable pretense of grieving. I wanted action. And since the police chief of Drearyton Cove wouldn’t know what to do with a break and enter, let alone a suspicious paranormal death... it was up to me.
Mom wandered over to me, carrying two plates of food, one laden with vegetables I know she never touched. “Thought you might be hungry.” She offered me the veggie plate.
I smiled thinly. “Thanks. Do you think anyone suspects anything?” I asked, fingering up a carrot curl and leaving it on my plate.
My mother blanched, but then shrugged her reply. “I don’t know what happened to her sweetheart, but Camilla was involved with the wrong people. Dangerous people. It’s just the sort of thing I’ve been warning you about.” She stroked my hair. “I don’t want you to end up like her.”
“I won’t.”
I was sad, but it was for all the wrong reasons. The loss I was feeling wasn’t entirely over my great aunt’s life. I was grieving losses yet to come.
“Your grandmother used to say no matter how someone dies, no one leaves this world unless their soul chooses it. She made her choice. They both did.” She gave a rueful smile before returning to her guests.
Camilla chose death over being a witch. Over being what I am. What my mom and Gran were. People will go to great lengths to deny who they are. I was willing to change who I was, but dying instead would never be an option. I didn’t want this because I didn’t like who I was. I wanted to be free to be with Adrius in peace. That was before the dark magic started taking hold. Now, I wanted to be free of who I was becoming.