CHAPTER 8

 

 

“She got to you in the house,” Karsia said softly, reaching for fresh towels. “She got to you when we were all here and we didn’t hear you scream. At least they’re healing quickly.”

Aisanna gritted her teeth and stood still while her sister mopped the blood from her arms. She could still see the woman in the mirror, the intimate connection between them despite the pain and blood.

She’d never felt so close to the end as she had when the brand seared along her skin. Except maybe in dreams.

“What happened?” Karsia asked.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t have let it happen. So much for Astix’s damn piece of agate.” Aisanna tipped her head back and closed her eyes.

“Maybe the agate was the only thing that stopped it from being worse. I’m going to wipe the ones on your chest. Ready?”

“Sure.”

It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. She tried to keep the screech to herself, lest she sound like a big baby.

“Try to focus on something else. Think about work. Something good. Your boy toy’s sexy arms…okay?”

Aisanna smiled a little despite the pain. “I’ll do my best.”

Karsia stopped long enough to stare at her before rinsing the blood. “I’m not sure if you noticed, since you were busy getting sliced and diced, but it’s writing. Cyrillic script, actually. I’m going to find out what it says.”

To give herself a moment to steady, Aisanna bent at the waist to grab a discarded towel, using it to wipe her hands. “If you think you can.”

“I know I can.” Karsia blew out a breath. “And when I do, we’ll solve this thing. Together.”

 

**

 

Another few days passed until the Imbolc holiday was upon them. Always an uplifting, hopeful time of year, it somehow felt forced this time. Threats of all shapes and sizes loomed ahead and added unwanted pressure. Instead of a joyous night to celebrate the mid-point between winter solstice and the spring equinox, the family was trapped together under a fresh blanket of snow.

And Zenon’s chair was still empty.

The Cavaldi clan gathered around the antique oak table that comfortably sat twelve. Aisanna knotted her hands in her lap and tried to feel grateful. The writing across her chest and arms had scabbed over and was healing quickly. She was grateful her parents hadn’t found out yet, although she’d taken to wearing turtlenecks and long sleeves to hide it. Luckily the weather provided enough excuse that her wardrobe choices were never questioned.

Although Karsia had promised to discover the meaning behind the strange-looking Cyrillic script, so far they’d had no luck. But fortunately for Aisanna, there were no more ominous shadows. No more whispered words or strange reflections in mirrors. There, she felt exceedingly lucky.

Aisanna kept her mind ruthlessly turned toward greener pastures. It was better than thinking about her problems. Or Elon. She wanted him to hold her again. She wanted to feel his mouth on hers. Though she knew it wasn’t a crime, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. There was a charge between them. He’d been right, and she couldn’t say it surprised her. Between the sizzling tension at work, and their kiss several days ago, she was hesitant to admit: She’d been moved.

For a long time, she’d wondered if the part of her heart capable of feeling affection for a man had died. She’d experienced her fair share of interesting, attractive men over the years, and come to appreciate her own sexuality. But there were none—including Israel—who brought her to full attention like Elon.

She’d been content to live without the affection, her heart turned off. Then Elon had to go and make a mess of things.

She wondered what it meant for her future. Her ability to fight the faceless monsters who wanted to use her and her sisters. It would be a trial to balance her basic human wants and desires and protect her family at the same time.

“Where are you?”

Aisanna snapped to attention. “I’m right here,” she commented.

“Don’t lie. You were a million miles away.” Karsia pursed her lips and let her attention wander back to the food.

The surface of the dining table, polished to a lemon-scented sheen, was swathed in a tablecloth of blinding white and laid with heavy silverware and food someone else had prepared. Varvara Cavaldi had many talents, but cooking wasn’t one of them.

Astix shook her head and a wave of hair obscured her features. Tension knotted her shoulders. “I still can’t believe you dragged me here.”

Thorvald Cavaldi set a massive golden-brown turkey in the center of the table while shooting his middle daughter a world-class glare, one perfected over decades. “Isn’t this nice? It’s our first meal together as a family without a Claddium-sanctioned banishment looming over us. At least, it’s our first year where I don’t give a damn about the consequences of breaking said banishment. Calm your mouth for an hour and I’ll give you a treat.”

“You really know how to deal with children, Daddy.” Astix snorted, drawing her napkin with a flourish and settling it on her lap.

Aisanna twirled an errant strand of thick hair around her finger. It had been years since they’d gathered together around a single table. The last time they’d been together was the twins’ fifteenth birthday party and Awakening, the first moment they’d demonstrated their magic. The moment Astix manifested the wrong power—and her brother found he had none.

Aisanna recognized the slow burn of guilt creeping its way up her throat. There were a lot of things she’d done in her life that she regretted. Not finding her sister during her banishment was one of them.

She didn’t remember much from that birthday. She’d been eighteen at the time and thought herself too cool to pay attention to her younger siblings. She’d gone up to her room after the disaster with the Awakening, blasting her music and determined to tune out the overly loud voices coming from downstairs. It wasn’t until the door slammed, shaking the windows, did she run downstairs to find her parents packing Astix into the car.

She’d gone out looking for a week afterward, sweeping the streets of Chicago and dealing with her parents’ ire when she came home. It took years for her to understand the severity of the situation.

The hair tightened around her finger until it tugged at her scalp. She released it with a wince. Those telltale nerves she would deal with another day. It was Imbolc, a time for rejoicing, spending time with loved ones, and watching for signs of spring. And Aisanna was thankful, certainly, for being alive.

She was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Karsia leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “I’m glad we could be here together.”

“Me too. Even though it’s a little awkward with you know who.”

Indeed, Leo Voltaire sat next to Astix with the calm of a saint. His large frame made the dining parlor seem small, his shoulders seemingly taking up enough space for several regular men. Golden-yellow lion’s-mane hair was a distinct contrast to the others and their darker tones.

The formal dining room—resplendent in tones of taupe and forest green—had been decked out for the holidays. Karsia dove into springtime festivities with the fervor of Christmas and no less ceremony. Garlands of conjured hyacinth and narcissus leaves hung around the room along with conjured flower hearts in shades of red and white. A nod to modernity even though they sat down to celebrate the pagan holiday of Imbolc.

Astix looked ready to bolt. Her nails drummed on the table top, hidden by the sounds of clanking dishes when more plates were set out. Aisanna understood that kind of anxiety, the kind knotting one’s insides into a fucked-up version of a cat’s cradle. She felt it, too. She’d just had more practice in dealing with it.

“Can we get this over with?” Astix said suddenly. “I’ve got work to do. Or have we forgotten that Zee is still locked in the Vault and there’s a supernatural maniac on the loose?”

“Like I told you earlier, we’re trying to focus on the positives for one night. Please.” Varvara spoke with forced cheer. She gestured toward the table now piled high with steaming platters. “Eat.”

“It’s not like you cooked the meal.”

“No, but I ordered it. Same deal.”

“Your optimism is going to make me sick.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s never too sick to eat,” Leo joked. “Pass me those potatoes, ma’am.”

“You two are living together. I think it’s safe for you to call me Mom.” Varvara wanted more than anything to see her children carted off on a tide of newlywed bliss. Reproducing would be icing on the cake.

A wave of bitterness rose in Aisanna at the thought. Of all the things for Varvara to focus on tonight… It was a coping mechanism, she knew. A way to put her attention on something other than her missing son or the countdown ticking down day by day with the approach of spring.

One would never know from the look on her face, however.

“No one but my mother has claim to that name, I’m sorry to tell you. I’ll happily call you by your first name if you call me by mine.” Leo sent Varvara a wink and everything was forgiven. The man could charm the teeth out of an alligator’s mouth.

Aisanna dove into her own mashed potatoes with concentrated fervor. They ate in silence for the first few moments. She chewed her food and looked around the table at each of them in turn. What a motley bunch, the six of them. Her eyes lingered on Zee’s empty seat.

“These are great mashed potatoes, Mom,” Karsia cut in to relieve the silence. “Just wonderful.”

“They’re out of someone else’s kitchen. We know it.” Astix made crop circles on her plate, the fork twirling through her food. “You can stop trying to make her feel better.”

“At least someone has something nice to say.”

Leo took Astix’s hand in his own, a tight smile stretching his well-formed mouth. “Try to be happy for one night, dearest. I know it’s hard.”

Luckily, Astix was given a reprieve when Varvara turned her attention to Aisanna. “Isn’t it nice that your sister found someone to call her own? A handsome, strapping young man. Have you seen any more of your fellow lately?”

“And I’m sure we’re very happy for both of them.” Aisanna sent her sister a brief smile before turning her eyes down to focus on her food. Please, she begged her mother silently, don’t go there. Don’t bring up my romantic status.

“Israel is a nice young man too.”

Yup, she went there.

Aisanna let out a long-suffering sigh. “Mom, can we enjoy just one night? It’s supposed to be a celebration of the promise of renewal, earth awakening and life-force stirring. Hope. Not you trying to play matchmaker again.”

“I only want you to be happy.”

“Keep it up and I’ll consider running out of the house screaming. It would go a long way in my book if you would just drop it.”

“Valentine’s Day is also coming up…” Varvara let her voice trail off.

Aisanna would have retaliated had she not seen the way her mother’s eyes fell on her plate, how she repeatedly rubbed the nape of her neck.

“I’m simply saying. The two of you have been together for years. He comes from a good family, with connections. He could take care of you.” And between the lines, something Varvara hadn’t said: Israel would have the means to keep her safe once the eclipse arrived.

“It’s casual sex, Mom,” Aisanna said somewhat crudely. “Not something you would understand.”

Thorvald laughed before swallowing the sound at a well-placed look from his wife.

“I’m just worried about you. I’m allowed to worry when you almost died last week. You’re also getting old enough. It’s time to settle down. Your younger sister found a good man.”

“Thank you.” Leo sent her a devilish grin.

Thorvald scooped a second helping of broccoli casserole onto his place, appearing unconcerned with the topic. “Var, will you leave the kid alone? She’s old enough to make her own decisions. There’s enough stress in this room without you adding to it by forcing marriage proposals on your daughters.”

“Thereby using the word ‘kid’ in a manner not conducive to its meaning,” Astix pointed out.

“Young lady, you are going about it in the right way if your aim is having your invitation into this house revoked! You and your sass talk.” Despite the warning, there was a twinkle in her father’s eyes.

Thorvald and his middle child shared more attitude than any of the others put together. Growing up, it put them at odds. Now they seemed to have grown into a pattern.

Aisanna sighed, wishing she could be back in her apartment with a microwaved meal, a glass of wine, and embarrassing reality television. “Honestly, let’s drop the entire thing and go on about our evening.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry! I know no one wants to hear me, but I simply don’t know what else to say.” Varvara sliced through her turkey meat with zeal. She hacked away at the piece until only inch-wide chunks remained, smothered in gravy. “Especially considering your accident. I’m going out of my mind and there’s not a damn thing anyone will let me do.”

“Because we have it covered, Mom,” Astix said with a loud sigh. “You dragged me into this mess. Let me handle it.”

“You’re handling it so well. I’m still waiting for Zenon to walk through the door.” Thorvald offered an amused smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’ll have your precious baby boy as soon as I can find a way to get him out. I’m doing my best.”

Aisanna reached for her magic and let the glow of it engulf her. This will show them. With a whoosh, she released a flood of power, unnoticeable until honeysuckle vines wrapped around her mother’s knife and fork, sending them away with a clatter.

Varvara reared back from the table with a screech of wood on wood. “That is not acceptable behavior in my house!”

“Yeah, of course it’s not. What was I thinking?” For the hell of it, and because it was the first time she felt in control for weeks, Aisanna let loose another spell. A large banana leaf popped out of the air and wrapped itself around her mother’s mouth, stemming the agitated flow of words.

Unfortunately for her, in a world where magic passed down along gender lines, Varvara’s strengths far exceeded her own. The leaf and vines dissipated into nothing.

“I said, knock it off!”

The legs of Aisanna’s wooden chair returned to their original splendor of rough oak and knocked Aisanna up from her seat. Wormy trunks with moss and lichen pushed her down and held her captive.

“Okay, I give up. This isn’t funny anymore.” Despite being thoroughly amused, a wave of pain shot through her. “I’m sorry. I was trying to break the tension!”

“You leave my sister alone.” Astix jumped into the melee with savage delight. A splinter of granite materialized up from the floor, causing her mother to jump out of the way in avoidance.

Through it Thorvald sat, quietly finishing the rest of his dinner. This was better than the silence from previous dinners, at least. The silence and useless anger and the new dread settling between them.

Varvara laughed, rose thorns escaping from her fingertips and pricking any in her path. “She was my daughter before she became your sister, missy. That gives me precedence to do whatever I want. Especially when she made the first move.”

Astix, refusing to be deterred, rebutted with several well-thrown shots of turquoise spheres, to which Leo added his own considerable strength though he hid it well, coughing into his hand.

“Well, that escalated quickly!” Karsia drew back when vines whipped by her face. “Guys, please. I’m an innocent bystander.”

Gleefully they beat at each other, never to the point of actual contact. The women threw their mettle together, blossoms threatening to bury one while deep-hued purple light surrounded them all, drawn from an amethyst geode in the corner.

Aisanna did not want any part of the chaos she’d caused, though she enjoyed the show. She and her father made eye contact and she noted the cheer there. He snapped his fingers and Varvara’s sapphire necklace reared back, smacking her on the cheek.

Karsia giggled. “Way to go, Dad!”

“Thorvald, honestly.” Varvara hauled herself onto her chair, with vines and leaves whipping around her like green octopus tentacles. “Don’t provoke them.”

“My dear, I did nothing,” he insisted.

Mashed potatoes spattered the wall when Leo and Astix struck back. Food flew and added to the decorations.

“Well, if this isn’t the best Imbolc celebration we’ve had in years, then I don’t know what to tell you,” Thorvald said with a chuckle.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing interrupted their mock battle. Aisanna jerked around and saw Elon standing in the doorway, his eyes wide.

“I, ah…” he began, “I let myself in. Hope that’s…okay?”