Chapter Eleven
“Wha?” I push the long bangs away from my face and stab at the brew button on the Keurig. I’ve yet to receive my morning jolt of caffeine, and conversation is out of the question. Luz apparently has yet to get that memo.
“You need to come outside and see this.” The machine rumbles to life, pulling water from the reserves and firing up the heating mechanism.
“Huh?” I grunt, unable to give her more as I watch the brown liquid fill my Queen Bee mug with the golden handle. I scratch the swath of skin bared between my tank top and black, white, and pink sleeping shorts.
“Right now,” she speaks slowly. “There’s a solar eclipse occurring.”
I frown. “Um, no there’s not.” As a witch, I make it my business to know major celestial events.
“What you mean is there shouldn’t be. Yet, if you step outside,” she points toward the foyer, “you’ll see I’m right.”
I rub my puffy eyes and zombie walk in the general direction of the front door. Fumbling with the lock, I step outside and squint up at the pink, purple, and orange sky. The sun is being swallowed little by little. I’m going to need a bigger cup of coffee.
“This is bad, right?” Luz asks from beside me.
I nod my head, unable to make my vocal cords work. My mouth is bone dry. The power necessary to pull this off is unfathomable. It requires altering the balance of nature. “Bad is a major understatement.”
“Do you think it was done intentionally? I mean, how is that even possible? Is it probable?”
“Playing with the laws of nature are bound to have disastrous repercussions. It’s likely whoever caused this did anticipate this side effect. If it was done deliberately …” I rub the back of my neck and trail off as my brain boots up. “Doing this so publicly proves they’re no friend to any of us. Humans will notice and investigate a spontaneous eclipse.”
My mind returns to Sebile and her worry about breaches. The Unseelie queen’s suspicions weren’t unfounded or false. The situation is dire when I’m wishing the Fae were actually playing tricks on me. I grimace thinking of the fall out about to happen. The sun has barely coasted into the horizon, and I’m looking at a crisis situation. We’ll have to reschedule all our appointments. Every witch in driving distance is going to gather today.
“What are you going to do?”
“Finish my coffee. Brew more and start returning the calls I know will be coming in.” I’m going to subscribe to the airplane safety method of reasoning. In case of a loss of cabin pressure, you have to put your own mask on before assisting others. You can’t help anyone else if you’re not okay. I retrace my steps inside the house and grab my mug of warm coffee. I lean against the kitchen counter and let the jolt of caffeine hit my system. The heated drink goes a long way toward kick-starting my brain and chasing away the chill that settled into my gut.
Luz hovers close, a dutiful daughter as she observes me silently. I can sense the unasked questions hovering on the tip of her tongue. I love her for the way she holds back her natural habit of plowing forward full speed. I prep a fresh cup of coffee with cream and sugar. I’m ready to talk.
“I know you have a lot of questions, but at the moment, I can’t really answer them. There are too many variable factors. We’ll all gather and try to narrow those down, so we can form a plan and move forward. The next few hours are going to be incredibly stressful while we try to mobilize, and not kill each other. It’s a lot of egos in a small place under stress.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “It’s a recipe for disaster and a headache.” My phone vibrates on the counter, and I grunt. It hasn’t stopped buzzing. Mémé, Sacha, Fel, and Mom’s numbers have flashed across my screen numerous times.
“Are you going to answer them?”
“After this cup, yeah. I’m going to need all the patience boosters I can handle. How did you know the eclipse wasn’t supposed to happen?”
“I pay attention to things, too. Our senses are strong. There was a faux quality. It smells, looks, and on a visceral level feels wrong. We’re not as connected to nature, but we have our own brand of magic. A sense that aligns us with things on this planet. There’s a reason we’ve always been connected with the evening hours. The connection is tied to endings. We exist after we should the same way the moon ends the day.”
I can understand the bond. Vampires are beings of darkness. They have to feed on life to remain alive. It makes sense.
“Is this similar to the way witches tap into nature?”
“Exactly so.”
I store the fact away for later. My phone buzzes again. Fel. I answer.
“Have you looked outside?” she asks.
“Morning to you, too, sunshine. I have. We should clear the schedule for the week at W.F.H.”
“I thought the same thing. Charlotte, your favorite client, is going to be pissed.”
I snicker. “Bully for her.”
“I’m scared, Lou. This eclipse isn’t happening anywhere else. It’s specific to Cypress and the surrounding areas.”
“There goes any hope of this being a weird global anomaly. This is impossible.” The sun governs us all; anything happening to it should be universal.
“I know. They’re calling a council lead meeting with the heads of families and all the witches who can make it in.”
“When and where?”
“That’s still being haggled over. They’re scrambling at this point, and the fear is making them snippy.”
“I can’t blame them. This is either a bold statement or a sign of something very wrong with our neck of the woods.”
“I don’t know how we can do damage control on such a vast audience,” Fel says.
“It would take one hell of a spell.”
“Manipulating that many minds is skating on the edge of ethical.”
“The rules are always flexible when it comes to what’s best for the greater good. It would take all of us working together to pull it off. That in itself might require a miracle.”
A loud boom makes me jump. “What the hell is that?” I rush toward the front door. The wards are firmly in place. It can’t be an attack. A line of vampires dart out the door in front of me.
Sizzling like bacon dancing in a skillet fills my ears. My jaw drops as flaming bits of circular objects hurtle from the sky. The fiery rain ranges in size from large to medium. The ground shakes with impact.
I grab for the doorframe to stay on my feet. Marcellus and Luz are in front of and behind me instantly, holding onto my arms to keep me steady as the ground continues to vibrate.
“What the hell are those?”
“Meteorites.” Percival and Miles voices are synched.
“What the hell is going on with this town?” Luz asks.
“Nothing good,” I answer honestly. We’ve just experienced darkness followed by fiery rain. It could be read as a mimicry of biblical plagues.
“So, who pissed off God?” Ruby whispers.
“Apparently the town of Cypress as a whole.” Ada snarky tone adds to the tension.
The ground settles as the shower ends and the sun is returned to rule on its throne.
“Well, we have an answer about the spontaneous eclipse,” Larkin says.
“Are you okay?” Marcellus steps away and studies me.
“Right as rain.” My voice shakes betraying my lighthearted words.
“Liar,” Marcellus replies.
“Okay… physically, I’m unharmed.”
“Better,” Marcellus nods.
“Cristobal is going to be so mad he’s in the Middle East right now,” Gil adds softly
I groan. “Oh, he’s going to be livid. We need to call him right now.”
“Is Mother Nature pissed off or what?” Renee asks, joining us.
“Every witch in town is asking that question right now. I need to shower and prepare for the meeting that will be arranged.”
“Here,” Marcellus declares smoothly.
“That’s an option. I don’t get to make the final call, though.”
“You have it here, or we can accompany,” Marcellus demands.
“Why?”
“Cristobal is away on business, that means he’s not here to make you do the things you ought to,” Marcellus replies.
“What he’s saying is we’re responsible for your well-being, and we take that very seriously,” Larkin recants.
“No. This is witch business.”
“And yet, you’re not less ours to protect,” Marcellus counters.
“I can’t appear to be afraid of my own people. You don’t get to intrude on tradition or do anything to hurt my leadership. It’s a matter of respect. This isn’t a vampire attack. It’s a break down in the balance of nature.”
“And if you go off and find yourself harmed, who do you think will suffer?” Percival asks.
“Danger comes with ruling. We all know it’s a part of the job description. We knew dual roles would be tricky to navigate. Let’s learn how to handle it together.” I stand my ground and stare each of them down. “If I am to be the lady of this court, that means you obey me, not the other way around. We are bound. I promise to call for you if I ever have a need. You can even stay nearby, but you can’t be a visible presence. Separation is crucial. When I act as the Esçhete matriarch, its hands off unless indicated otherwise. There are too many witches who continue to distrust vampires. If we hope to change that we have to take baby steps. Foisting you into their fold at a vulnerable moment like this will only lead to resentment.”
The look at each other. I’ve won. I relax. “I’ll offer up the mansion as a suggested place for the meeting, but I won’t push.” Kneeling, I pick up the telephone I dropped off the floor. “I’ll let you know before I leave.”
Marcellus scowls. “Stubborn witch.”
“Pushy vampire,” I toss back.
***
Rows of white wooden lawn chairs decorate the Blanchard’s large backyard. The white gazebo surrounded by colorful blooms is straight out of a fairytale, along with the archway covered with pink azaleas, a black wrought iron bench, and a well-tended flower and herb garden on the opposite side of the yard. I wish we were gathered for a happy occasion. Seated between Mémé and my mother, I study the witches and wizards dressed in formal wear. Their faces are set in various stages of concern.
Quiet conversations rise around us. I lean forward and glance at Sacha who’s seated with the Morel family. Sensing my gaze, she turns to look at me. I arch an eyebrow and glance at the family surrounding her. She shrugs and smiles. I grin. Its official, she’s back in her father’s good graces. Snubbing them publicly would undo the progress they had managed. Seeing them operating as a functional unit feels good.
The council members begin to move toward the front. Mémé rises and takes her place beside the others.
“We’ve all heard about the eclipse and meteorite shower. It’s the reason we’re all here,” Meadow says. Her floor-length, floral patterned dress has a V-neck that shows off her slender collarbone and glowing skin. Her voice speaks peace with it’s soft, melodic quality. Tall and poised, Meadow is the epitome of grace as she walks from one end of the audience to the other, making constant eye contact. When this woman speaks, we all listen. Despite her light and airy tone, the power she possesses is prevalent. “We’ve come together to discuss theories, share any knowledge we may possess, and decide how we shall proceed.”
“Perhaps the ancestors are displeased with the unnatural events going on. Witches are consorting with vampires. There are heads of families with split alliances. It’s not the way it was ever done. We stick with our own kind.” Zephirin Dupeux’s voice booms out over the crowd.
“There was a time when this sort of thinking nearly cost us all our lives and legacies. We survived the Reaping by striking up working relationships with all the species. Because to overcome enemies we need to act together. Now, when a new powerful threat shows up, you wish to work backward?” I challenge his bigotry with fact. Tilting my head, I peer down my nose at him. “Sounds to me like the sort of thing we should be avoiding, unless we want history to repeat itself. We lost too much during the Reaping. We can’t afford to go down that road again. It’s no mystery many families are in short supply of members.”
“Your opinions are prejudiced at best,” Zephirin says haughtily.
If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black.
“No, when they’re rooted in historical facts, it’s called accurate.”
“Your thoughts have been noted, Zephirin,” Meadow interjects. “Does anyone else wish to speak?”
“Due to the Esçhete’s open-minded approach, we believe we have a lead on what’s creating the upheaval in nature. I have invited someone who has more information to join us,” Mémé says. She gestures with a sweep of her hand, and we turn to face the entrance. Vale Meadow is escorting the Queen of Winter court herself down the aisle. The champagne-colored tulle dress has a silver sequined bodice that trails down into thin lines spaced evenly apart. A cape falls down into a train that trails behind her. It moves and flows like a living thing with each step she takes. Its winter couture at its finest. Dark ringlets of hair are twined with fairy lights.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mr. Morel barks.
Sebile narrows her gaze and lowers her lashes.
“Sebile comes to us today in peace. Bound in accordance with the agreement made with Rosemond Esçhete, she is not seeking to harm any here. Our esteemed guest will be treated with the utmost respect and kindness. Lest someone forgets themselves, remember, she’s not forced to show mercy to those who step out of line,” Vale says. I spot her faithful servants, Cein and Kul, standing on either side of the flower arch. Even with good intentions, she wouldn’t be caught unguarded.
Spine straight as an arrow, she looks down on the crowd, nose wrinkled as if she smells something bad. Her smirk is full of secrets we can’t hope to know. Even out of her own kingdom, she acts as if we’re beneath her.
“There has been tampering with the veil between worlds. Someone seeks to open a portal that would allow their entire world entrance onto this plane. This is the root of your problems.”
“If you knew so much, why are we only now hearing about it?” Mr. Morel asks.
“The problems of humans concern me very little. I would not risk an upset to the balance in my kingdom for those who care none for me and mine. But I enjoy our arrangement enough to allow you to investigate on my lands where I first detected the anomaly.”
Everyone begins to chatter at once.
“You expect us to trust you with one of our own?” Zephirin asks.
“One of yours? No?” She laughs. The bell-like sound is cruel and cold, like the season she rules.
“Who will you grant safe passage, wise one?” Meadow asks, smoothing the rough waters like a white-water rafting champion.
“I’ve chosen one to represent you. A person I believe understands the complexity of traversing my rules and my people. She has consented to carry your cause and agreed to my terms. I choose Louella Esçhete.”
“Of course you choose her,” someone shouts in the crowd.
Sebile snaps her finger. Choking begins. “I think you’ve forgotten who you address. I am Queen of the Winter Court and daughter of the Night. Your fragile human bodies would buckle at the mere thought of the things I’ve done to others for far less. Consider this your only warning.” Large gulps for air come from the back.
The invisible barrier keeping the rain from falling in the space does nothing to block the muggy heat. The moisture only unleashes misery with no cooling qualities. I shift in my seat, uncomfortable under the stares and poor conditions.
Frost coats the ground, and the temperature drastically plunges. Snowflakes drift to the ground. The acrid scent of fear drifts to me on a frigid breeze. The wind picks up, blowing her hair behind her like a dark banner. Amber streaks flicker inside the living purple fire of her amethyst gaze. Cein and Kul stalk forward with eerie twin movements toward the offender.
“Apologize to our Queen.” Hands on the hilt of their swords they stop by Everard Dupeux. Like ignorant father, like son.
Everard raises his chin. “I am allowed to have an opinion among my own people. This is my world.”
The swords sing as they are pulled from their scabbard.
I rise. “Peace, brothers. I offer retribution.” I walk over, back straight and eyes firmly fixed on the glitter black chips of ice that bore into me. I kneel before them and lift my hand, palm up.
Cein and Kul exchange a silent conversation with a look.
“Lady, are you sure?” Cein asks, deferring to my connection with the court. It’s a blood matter.
“Please, let my blood be a tribute for this affront.”
“Very well.” The sharp blade bites into the flesh of my palm. I clench my jaw, ignoring the pain. The blood wells up a red river in my palm. I tilt it and let it color the grass.
“Blood is spilled, and the apology is accepted,” Cein and Kul announce in tandem. Kul holds out his hand and helps me to my feet.
Sebile floats toward me, hovering over the ground. “This is the woman I’ve chosen. See how well she handles herself. With dignity, honor, and bravery. The courts of Summer, Fall, and Spring extend their welcome.” With a flourish of her hand, she heals my cut. A trail of snowflakes spin around me. The enchanted pieces of fluffy white frozen water dance, glitter in the sun like a scene from a winter wonderland movie. They whirl faster and faster, becoming a miniature blizzard. This is what it’d feel like to be inside a snow globe.
“Hold out your hand,” Sebile commands.
I do as she asks. A fat snowball lands in my palms. With a flash of blue light, it becomes an hourglass. Pure white sands and white wooden frame.
“You have twenty-four hours to prepare for your journey. We shall come to retrieve you when the final sand drops. I’ll take my leave. Interactions with humans are so very tedious.” She takes to the sky, becoming a swirling fluid white. Her twin protectors follow at her side, dark splashes of black that flank her in a stunning display of black and white.
“Well, that’s one way to make an exit,” Meadow cracks the joke.
Nervous laughter sweeps over the group like mass hysteria.
“Are we trusting our future to this slip of a girl who only recently rejoined our community?” Zephirin asks.
“Well, you made certain it wouldn’t be your lot once you opened your mouth, didn’t you?” Mémé snaps.
An older witch rises in the back. Her gray hair is slicked back and wound tightly in a bun that makes her slender, oval-shaped face almost gaunt. Her high cheekbones are dusted with blush, her thin lips have a touch of color, and her wide-set brown eyes are full of intensity. “She’s proven herself capable of navigating choppy waters. How many of us made foolish decisions growing up? Are we going to hold her to that forever?”
I finally place her. Tangela Bishop.
“I will question anyone who’s in charge of representing us as a whole. This entire thing should’ve been vetted through the council. We decide who’s worthy of such monumental tasks.”
“Here! Here!” The cry rises among his cronies.
Is that what this is about? His pride is wounded because the council was skipped over?
“May I remind everyone that this is Sebile’s call to make?” Meadow says.
I stand. “If you plan to insult my character and capabilities, you’ll damn well do it to my face. I did leave. I had soul searching to do. If you expect me to apologize for that, you’ll be waiting for eternity. I questioned what I believed in and why. I hope I’m always able to do that because there’s nothing worse than going through the motions simply for the sake of it. We must always explore, expand, and progress. That’s what my time away did for me. I returned because I was one-hundred percent sure it was where I belonged. I am dedicated to my family, our people, and my responsibilities. The Esçhetes have never let the magical community down when it counted. We won’t start with this generation.” How quickly people forget all we’ve sacrificed, and how hard we fought beside them.
“Soon we’ll see if all of this is more than lip service.” Zephirin sneers.
I stare him down. “You will.” I’m going to make you choke on every vile thing you’ve spewed here. With titles come the need to save face, be treated with respect, and stand your ground. I can no longer afford to live a turn-the-other-cheek lifestyle. If I’m honest, the fire in my belly is proof I no longer want to.