Chapter 7

Sylvana

 

I’ll admit to shameless eavesdropping. Hell, it’s not even close to the worst thing I’ve ever done. And it’s not as though I was around during Lexi’s teen years when invading her privacy would have been acceptable and expected. Making up for lost time, that’s what I decided to call it.

The first time I spoke to my adult daughter, she was clad in a flowered sundress, looking at the business end of Delta’s rapier, and the look on her innocent face was pure fear. Now, she looked like a comic-book hero. Oh, how times had changed, and once again I’d been absent during a transformative period in Lexi’s life.

My heart almost stopped when I heard her ask Delta to try to locate another Fate Weaver, then hope kick-started it again, and set it racing as the implications sank in. When the search effort failed, as I suspected it would, Lexi would be left with no other option, and that’s when I’d swoop in.

The conversation ended with the Fiach shooting straight into the sky like a rocket. While I stood hidden in the recess of a cobbled stone building covered in what I thought was an impenetrable cloaking spell, trying to decide how to proceed, my daughter took a few steps in my direction and popped her hands on her hips.

“You’re aware I can see you, right?” She asked, her voice hard and cold and entirely impassive. My shoulders dropped with my sigh, and I flicked the spell away while vowing to ream the elf I’d purchased it from next time I was in the Fringe.

“I wasn’t, no, but I’m not surprised. Your skills have improved since the last time I saw you. I’m impressed.”

Lexi’s mouth set into a thin line. “Yes, well, it seems I’ve had cause to hone them, thanks to you.”

Maybe my goal wasn’t as close as I thought it was. My daughter was still angry, and there’s nothing scarier than a ticked off Balefire witch.

“I’m sorry—” I began, but Lexi cut me off.

“I don’t care what you are, though sorry does seem a fitting description. What reaction did you think you’d get? I believe I told you to stay away, and I’m betting you’re back because you need something. No wait, I forgot who I was talking to. You want something.”

“To see my daughter safe,” I said, taking hold of the irritation rising in me at her animosity. “And if what I overheard you talking to Delta about is any indication of your status, clearly, you are not. What’s going on? Maybe I can help.”

The look she gave me would have flash-frozen the balefire.

“If you think I’m stupid enough to believe you care about me, you haven’t been paying attention. I can handle myself just fine.” Lexi spat. “And my conversation with Delta is none of your business.”

I swallowed a fair amount of frustration and repeated myself, hoping Lexi would hear the sincerity in my voice, “I want to see you safe.” And then I made the mistake of telling a half-truth. “And I have no ulterior motive.” I really should have left that last part off, and immediately cursed my big mouth to hades and back.

I shivered under Lexi’s unbelieving stare, and even though she was right, backing down wasn’t my style. “Fine. You know there’s another reason. Look, you need a Fate Weaver, and I need to find your father. Two birds, one stone. I watch your back, you watch mine. We both win, and everyone’s happy.”

My daughter lifted one eyebrow and despite the difference in hair color, it was like looking into a mirror. She didn’t say anything for a long moment, and I could see the internal struggle playing out behind her eyes. “Well, at least you’re consistent even if your motives are decidedly one-sided. It’s not Cupid I need specifically, any Fate Weaver will do. And to be quite honest, I’ve had enough family reunions to last me a lifetime. Besides, the last time I tried to help you, you betrayed me and left me to my own devices. It’s high time I returned the favor.”

Great, I thought to myself, of course my daughter would have inherited my ability to hold a grudge for all eternity. It wasn’t as though I could blame her, but the Lexi I knew was softer and far more pliable than the creature now standing before me.

“We could be a family again. Cupid would want that. He loves us.” I insisted.

Lexi smirked. “Is that what you think? Because I saw what happened the day he left and you got banished to the nexus. Your mother might have shot him with one of his own arrows, but he chose to walk away. Maybe he didn’t love us as much as you think he did. In fact, I’m quite certain he didn’t.”

She certainly didn’t pull any punches, and the pain of her words hit me like a sledgehammer. “You don’t understand,” I protested.

“I understand what I saw, and that you have no loyalty to anyone but yourself, which makes you untrustworthy as an ally. That’s all I need to know.”

Some people take hard truths and turn them into signposts for change. Others just get pissed off when their foibles are dragged into the light of day. Guess which category I fell into?

“You got the bow didn’t you? That’s what you wanted.” It came out a little more harsh than I intended, as did what came next. “And Kin survived, didn’t he? No harm, no foul.”

Pain flashed across Lexi’s face before it turned to stone. “You’ve been following me all over town. Don’t deny it. I’ve felt you spying on me. Tell me, Mother, how many times in the past week have you seen me with Kin?”

Actually, come to think if it, the answer was none. I’d just assumed that since Lexi was holding her own against Diana, the spell had been broken. If that wasn’t the case, it explained the change in Lexi since the last time I’d been in town.

She’d begun to pace, another family trait we Balefire women employ when trying to work out a particularly frustrating problem—and sometimes when we’re just plain furious. I took a step back since it was clearly the latter situation.

“No,” I admitted, “I haven’t. But I thought—”

“Well, you thought wrong,” Lexi snapped. “Your little message from the Faelands didn’t help me any, and in case you haven’t noticed, Diana the Snake is still slithering around trying to unmake my matches.”

“You seemed to have her under control.” It was all the response I could manage.

My daughter’s eyes narrowed to slits, and once again I noticed how forbidding she could look, “You’ve been following me?” she asked, her words razor sharp.

Damn, I really should learn to be more careful with my words. “Yes, I have. I told you, I wanted to make sure you were okay, and just for the record, I was impressed with the way you handled yourself.”

Lexi ignored my compliment entirely. “I’ve managed to keep Diana at bay, yes. She has her cards, I have my arrows. Tit for tat has become the status quo, and I can hold out as long as she can.”

“Then what happened with Kin?” I dared to ask.

Lexi’s face drained of color, and again a more fragile version of herself showed through her hardened exterior. “I have no intention of sharing my pain with you. Or anything else, for that matter. Goodbye, Mother.” With that, my daughter spun on her heel and stalked away.

 

Lexi

My legs were shaking as the distance between my mother and me widened, and the goddess chose that particular moment to step back long enough to leave me to face the pain of the encounter alone. Just like her to bail when things got too emotional. The one occasion where her strength would be an asset to me rather than a crushing force that rendered me silent but mercifully numb, and she was nowhere to be found.

Though, to be fair, lately the numbness had started to wear off, and I wasn’t sure if that was Alexis’s doing or through some fault of my own. Seeing Kin, hearing Mona describe him as lonely—it was a kick in the solar plexus. Or in the butt. No, it was both.

Add in the boost of pure love coming from Kaine—those experiences had roused me from my near catatonic state, and I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be so simple to crawl back inside this time.

And now my mother had arrived, once again at a most inopportune moment of my life. Part of me identified with her single-minded need to set her disaster of a love life to rights. Part of me even understood what she was going through. I’d been without Kin for such a short time in comparison to the twenty-five years she’d been separated from her lover, and I wondered if that would be enough time for me to get over my devastation.

But an even bigger part of me was happy she was hurting. At least I wasn’t alone in my pain.

She’s obviously desperate if she’s willing to ask for help after everything she’s done. You have to at least admire her for having a cast-iron resolve, Alexis unhelpfully pointed out.

I thought the peanut gallery was closed, I fired back, letting irritation and impatience replace the heartache I’d been wallowing in. I felt the control over my mind and body expand a little before Alexis snapped it back into place like a brand-new rubber band.

Don’t underestimate me, she purred. If you were strong enough to handle things, you wouldn’t have needed to call me forth. It’s you who needs me, not the other way around. Her words came out sickly sweet, but with an edge that left no question I was dealing with a lioness, not a kitty cat.

 

Alexis

When I walked through my front door a short while later, I had prepared myself for a full-on assault from Terra for forgetting to call and let her know I was going to be late. But, to my surprise, the house was quiet. I heard a shuffle of feet and a few whispered words coming from the kitchen, and when I chanced a peek, Terra, Evian, and Soleil were huddled near the sliding patio door. My entrance elicited three equally guilty half-smiles.

Beyond them, through the frosted glass, I could see Vaeta standing in the middle of the backyard, her arms waving fast enough to create a snowy funnel of air. Across from her stood a disheveled Rhys, his goatee coated in a thick layer of ice, and a concerned expression on his handsome face.

That explained the guilt—the faeries had been caught spying, which, even though I’d seen them do far worse, contrasted with their recent holier-than-though attitudes. I merely raised an eyebrow and marched upstairs, grateful for the reprieve.

Normally, letting a demon into my house wasn’t something I’d allow, but Rhys had proved himself trustworthy enough to make an exception. He cared about Vaeta, and since I was the last person who ought to be engaging in species prejudice, I’d decided to stay out of it. Whatever lover’s quarrel he and Vaeta were having was their own business, but that didn’t stop me from taking a look out the dormer window on my way down the hall to my bedroom.

What I saw reminded me again of exactly why I was glad I didn’t have to worry about relationship issues. Ever again.