CHAPTER 9

 

 

 

That was the way of disaster. Swift, out of the shadows, when least expected.

The three girls let themselves out of the room. For Karsia, her sadness warred with frustration. She felt completely lost. Stomping down the stairs, she made her way into the kitchen as wrath pounded in her chest with the force of a hammer.

Elon and Morgan were congregated around the center island. One stood with a teapot in his hand, while the other grasped his cup in preparation. Both turned to look at her when she entered, different ends of the spectrum making the best of a bad situation. Elon, with his wavy dark hair and boyish blue eyes. Morgan, distinguished and older, taller, thinner. Both men had been thrown into something beyond their control and forced to tread water.

“We’re on our third pot of tea and getting to know each other. Any change?” Morgan asked her. “I’m sorry about your mother, by the way. Truly sorry. I hope she pulls through.”

“I’m glad to see you two are getting chummy. It seems oddly fitting.” She grimaced and closed her eyes, catching a glimpse of herself, her old self.

That Karsia knew her mother was in trouble, realized she should have been able to help but could not, nearly brought her to her knees. A cry caught in her throat and she clawed at the fake heart in her chest.

Morgan moved instantly to gather her into his arms.

“Let go of me,” she said, her tone sharp but the plea halfhearted. Though no tears came she felt the sting of them aching to burst out and grant her relief. Shock, pure and simple, had her gasping to fill her lungs with air. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t be crying like this. Evil doesn’t bawl like a baby.”

“No, but you do. And you’re not evil.”

Elon continued to line up the porcelain cups and distribute the brewed beverage. He kept any comments to himself, his personal grief unvoiced.

“I know if there was a way for you to fight this, you would be in there healing her with everything in your power,” Morgan murmured against her ear.

“But I’m not, Morgan. I’m not in there and I’m not healing her because I can’t do it. This thing inside of me won’t let me help my own mother.” Karsia shook, afraid to give voice to the terrible things her mind already knew. “It was no accident. Someone hit her on purpose.”

She recognized now why she’d been drawn back here in the first place. There were forces at work beyond the original players in their story.

“My mother could die. And it’s my fault,” she said it for impact, watching Elon wince at the words.

“Try not to think about it. Try to think about anything else. Your thoughts have energy, and if you give in to your fatalism, you put it out there in the universe. Never forget your own strength, little witch,” Morgan said soothingly. He rubbed up and down her back and pushed his exhaustion aside. “Being harsh won’t help.”

“Yeah, it’s a little hard to think about anything else, no matter how harsh it sounds.” Karsia pushed him away and crossed to the stools positioned at the island.

She remembered the moment when Varvara decided to redo the kitchen. Every few years she got a bug in her bonnet and chose a room at random to rip down to the studs. Thorvald would give her anything she wanted, in the end, despite protesting that none of the renovations were necessary. He complained loudly each time she went crazy with her new ideas about decorating, but he was always secretly pleased with the results. For the kitchen, she’d gone for French countryside with quaint modern twists.

Karsia ran the heel of her hand along the stools, soft linen upholstery and brass nail heads completing their look. She’d been there the day they arrived at the house. Watched Varvara rip into them with a delight rarely seen in adults.

The kitchen was large and eat-in, with a quaint round table and six chairs ringing the outside. Although her mother cleaned once in a blue moon and rarely made much use of the double wall ovens, Karsia knew the kitchen had been the heart of the home. A gathering place where they could come and relax. Enjoy a cup of coffee or a piece of chocolate from the community bowl on the countertop.

Her heart hitched when she realized she might never see her mother there again.

She let her fist fall on the marble countertop. The stone cracked. “Elon, so help me God, slide one of those teas over before I lose my damn mind.”

Elon had two cups at the ready. The porcelain screeched until it came to rest inches from her waiting palm. “For what it’s worth,” he told her softly, “I’m sorry. I know we haven’t had a chance to get to know each other, and I’m sure you’re worried about me and what I am, but I’ll never betray you or your family. I love your sister.”

“Yeah, that’s what they tell me.” Karsia gulped the entire cup and felt the burn down to her gut. Searing liquid singed her taste buds though she cared little for the pain. “Every single one of them.”

He and Morgan gathered around her with the false sympathy of those who had nothing else to say except sorry. It made her sick to her stomach.

She gripped the edge of the island and exchanged a long, hard look with both Elon and Morgan in turn. “Look, I’d love to stay and chat but I have a sneaking suspicion that things are going to go downhill from here. I really need to go or else I’m going to hurt someone.”

Destroy. Kill.

Echoes of pain and fury sounded inside of her, aching to burst through her fingertips in raw, unadulterated force. She had no desire to stop them.

“You need to be with your family.” Morgan lifted a brow and moved a hairsbreadth closer to her. “Anything you throw out, we can handle, as long as we’re together.”

She pushed at him. “Who the hell are you to say that? You’re not part of this. We’re not together in anything.”

“I’m not sure you understand the gist of the situation, man.” Elon shifted his eyes to Karsia. “Does he know what’s going on?”

Although the question was directed at Karsia, Morgan answered anyway. “Nope,” he responded pleasantly. “Not a damn clue about anything, really. But I’m staying.”

Giving in to her frustration, Karsia smashed the teacup into powder with a single punch, enjoying the way the china felt under her hands as shards bit into her skin. “I need out.” She brushed Morgan’s concern away. “And don’t you have work, Professor? I distinctly recall giving you an order to find a cure for this monster I’ve become.”

The closeness was getting to her, she decided. She wanted to wipe the fabricated sincerity off of Morgan and Elon’s faces and see it turn to fear.

“I remember, and I’m still staying. I’m where I most need to be.”

Elon poured another cup of tea and handed it over to Karsia without a word about the cup she’d destroyed. She grabbed it if only for the warmth, wrapping her hands on either side and looking out the window.

The soft sound of footsteps came down the back stairs toward the kitchen.

“I hope you saved some of your magical chamomile for me, sweetheart. I could drown myself in a pot right now.” Aisanna kept hold of the rail and used it for balance until she placed both feet firmly on the travertine floor. She spared a glance at Karsia, knowing her need to run and having a hard time imagining the desire to turn from their family home. For a time, she’d begrudged the fact that her baby sister had bolted and left them without a word. At the moment, she could no longer expend the energy on blame.

“Here, have mine.” Karsia shoved the cup out toward her sister. “I’m not in a drinking mood.” She turned when Astix came into the room. “Tea isn’t going to calm me.”

Astix eyed the cup. “You haven’t poisoned it, have you?”

“No. Not this time.”

“Oh, great,” Astix said. Rather than cluster with the others, she moved to the counter and leaned back against the unyielding surface.

Aisanna sat heavily on a stool, and Elon moved to her side. “Oh, Elon.” She turned and clutched at his shirt, bringing him closer, and he didn’t resist. One hand stroked down her hair as soothing sounds passed through his lips.

“I’m here. I’m here.” Elon gathered her against him to rest his head atop hers. “We’ll figure this out.”

“They’ll come for us soon.” Astix was certain. “Once they pick up on our energy signatures again, the Claddium will be here. It’s only a matter of time. The eclipse is getting closer.”

Karsia fought the urge to scream and pushed away from the counter. “I can’t be here anymore,” she said again.

“Well, you can’t leave, either. Now that you’re back, we need to put our heads together and find a way to force Darkness out of you.” Astix crossed her legs, presenting a stoic picture everyone knew was her way of coping. “I’ve come across several spells we’re not strong enough to try alone. I consider them Plan B. Do you have any other ideas?”

Morgan adjusted his glasses. He lifted his cup to his lips and spoke over the rim. “If I had a better idea of the circumstances, I might be able to help.”

Astix gestured edgily with her thumb. “Who is this yahoo? I feel like we’ve been ignoring an elephant in the room.”

“Professor Morgan Gauthier, my sisters Astix and Aisanna. He’s the guy from the Internet.”

Morgan held out a palm and shook hands with each of the women in turn. Though Astix eyed him suspiciously, no one asked him any questions about his involvement. There was enough magic in the room for them to recognize the part he had to play. And accept it. It was strange, Morgan thought, adjusting his glasses. He felt comfortable enough with these mortals to slip into their fold without hesitation on anyone’s part. Then again, nothing brought people together like a tragedy.

“Why does his name sound familiar to me?” Aisanna asked.

“Because I tried to get you to see what I’d found in regards to the Cyrillic script tattooed on your chest, but you wouldn’t listen. Like every other time. You thought I was playing games,” Karsia said with a shrug. “Look, I told him to stay home but he wouldn’t listen either. So here he is. Now, can we get on with things?”

“What things?” Aisanna asked.

“Someone promised to tell me the goddamn details. So please, get on with it.” Karsia raised a hand to her lips and chewed on her fingernails.

Aisanna slid her hands along her thighs, drying her clammy palms, then told them every detail she remembered from the police report. “According to traffic cams, Mom walked right in front of the damn garbage truck. The midtown line. I saw the still photo…”

“And?”

“She had a smile on her face the whole time,” Aisanna answered slowly.

Karsia was vehement. “She’s a tough lady and far from stupid. You know this wasn’t her fault.”

“Keep your voice down. He’ll hear you.” Astix pointed at the ceiling toward the bedroom where their father still sat. “He’s been through a lot and he can’t handle much more.”

“Since when do you care how he feels?” Karsia fired back. The words felt like hot acid boiling inside of her. Frowning, she stuck her hands in her pockets and lifted her chin. “You’ve never been a daddy’s girl.”.

Astix stared at her, a veil slipping over her eyes. “I know that’s not you saying those things. Calm down.”

“It is me. And I don’t appreciate you telling me to calm down. Have you forgotten who I am? Why I’m here? You have a lot of nerve talking to me like you’re so much better.”

“Calm down,” Astix repeated. She touched a finger against Karsia’s sternum. “Right now.”

A burst of light coursed through Karsia and her world turned white. The toll of a bell echoed in her ears, the only sound she heard, and when she drew her next breath the darkness dissipated, if only for a minute, and her true self stared out through her eyes. A tidal wave of hurt assaulted her and scalding tears leaked from her eyes. At once she wished for the numbness of the dark.

“Oh my God. Mom.”

“I know.” Astix drew her sister close in a hug.

Morgan looked on helplessly as Karsia broke down. Her keening sobs tore at his heart and broke it into pieces. He understood the need for being quiet and standing back. Nevertheless he could barely prevent himself from crossing to her side and swooping her up, taking her away from the anguish.

“What did you do to her?” he asked.

“She’s fine,” Astix spoke over Karsia’s head. “I activated the gemstones around her heart.”

“She’s herself again?”

“For a time.”

His face broke out into a grin. “That’s great! Let’s hurry upstairs right now and heal your mom. With Karsia back to normal, we can—”

“It won’t last long enough to make a difference,” Astix said softly. “But it’s a wonderful thought. Thank you.”

He jerked when Aisanna moved to him and touched his arm gently. She looked like the others, cut from the same mold. Here was wisdom. A dynamic and cultured woman who had seen her fair share of tragedy. She shared the same coloring and eyes but with harder planes to her face. A stronger chin. She was a woman who understood self-control and discipline.

“I don’t know how she found you or why she sought you out when none of us could reach her, but thank you. Thank you for keeping watch over her and bringing her home.” Her voice was easy and washed over him with the comfort of a warm blanket just removed from the dryer.

Morgan admired her strength even as he heard the pounding of her heart beating against her ribs like a bird in a cage.

“She won’t tell me what’s really happening. I want to help, and there’s only so much I can do without understanding the whole picture,” he told her. “I have started to look for a way to get rid of what she says is inside her, but so far I haven’t had enough time to find anything.”

“You’re here.” Aisanna sent him a tense half-smile. “It’s enough for now. We’ve been working on a way. Darkness is tenacious, though. You seem like a nice man.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he muttered.

Karsia jerked her shoulders. A slight, uncomfortable twitch.

Aisanna gestured with her head. “I’m surprised this worked.”

“Would you kindly explain to me what, exactly, was done?”

Aisanna focused on her sisters embracing instead of giving in to her own anguish. She would deal with it in her own time, in her own way. It helped to keep a bubble around her thoughts to keep them from scattering. Magic, she thought. It was something she could focus on instead of her own inadequacy—an earth witch who didn’t have the power to heal her mother. It was deplorable.

“Astix has an affinity for gemstones. The only reason Karsia has not become Darkness in earnest is the pieces of stone around her heart keeping the evil at bay,” she went on to say. “Emerald and amber, both used for centuries in keeping negativity and evil spirits away. It’s witchcraft in its purest form.”

Morgan stopped, turning toward the rest of them. “What?”

“Her heart. Astix tapped into it, so what you’re seeing now is the real Karsia. No filters.”

Karsia had no heart? How was she still alive? “That’s cruel.” Morgan longed to intervene. He sipped his tea and tamped down his need to meddle. “Her feelings will drown her. It’s too much for her right now.”

Aisanna sighed. “I understand, and you understand, but in this case, we need her to see why she should stay here. The real her. There’s a war going on, Mr. Gauthier. Our mother was one of many casualties in the fight of good against evil. I’m upset, yes. More than you can ever imagine.” Aisanna hiccupped and set her jaw. “But my sister is here, and that’s what Mom would want. I have to focus on moving forward. Or I’ll sink and never resurface.”

“I’m going to make this right. For her,” Morgan vowed, the desire solidifying in his mind. “I am sorry for your loss, I am. But I’m here for her.”

“I pray you do make it right. You have no idea.”

Morgan sighed. “One of these days someone needs to tell me exactly what is going on. I must have the whole story in order to find a solution. Not bits and pieces from random sources.”

Aisanna clapped a hand down on his shoulder. “We’ve been trying for months now and all this venture has brought us is pain and suffering. This latest fucking business is the worst of it.”

“But you will tell me,” Morgan put in again.

“Of course. Soon.”

The spell on Karsia lasted five more minutes. Five minutes of tears and sorrow, a loss so deep Morgan felt it from across the room. He watched with equal parts fascination and frustration as her eyes shifted from brilliant color, blue and green and gold, to solid black.

“Get off me,” she suddenly snarled, shoving Astix back. She wrathfully wiped the tears from her eyes and scowled at them, her slender body positively vibrating with fear and fury. “Don’t ever do that to me again. Don’t ever touch me again! I’ll punch you so hard it’ll take a chunk out of your ass.”

“Please stop,” Astix implored, shifting to the balls of her feet. Braced for an argument and ready to fight if necessary. “We all need to put our anger aside.”

“Oh, you’re funny. Trying to imitate what Mom would have said to me. ‘Keep the peace, Karsia. Keep the status quo.’ Ha!” The bite in her voice would have left physical marks were it capable. “Let’s all sit down and drink Elon’s goddamn tea and forget about the near-corpse upstairs.”

“That’s more than enough, Karsia.” What Astix saw in the other girl’s eyes brought a panicked sweat to her skin, slick as oil and quick as a thought. There was violence there, and beyond it, capability. Willingness.

Astix told her own feelings to take a flying jump and focused on what lay ahead.

Frustrated, Karsia rounded on Aisanna. “There’s so much more. So much more to do before this is over. I am done sitting by while shit keeps happening.”

“Please don’t do anything stupid,” Aisanna cautioned.

“We need you here,” Elon put in plaintively.

“I know exactly what I need to do.” Karsia shrugged into her jacket and stomped toward the side door. “I’m going to find the bastard who drove the garbage truck and if he doesn’t tell me exactly what I want to know, I’m going to flay him from navel to neck and wear his skin for a coat.”

The door crashed behind her with enough force to rattle the glass.

“Are you kidding me? “I—” Aisanna broke off, deciding there were no good words to say.

“I’ve got to run, but it was nice to meet you folks. Let’s hope the next time will be under better circumstances!” Morgan grabbed his coat, hurrying after the girl with nothing more than a cursory glance back over his shoulder.

Praying he was doing the right thing, he braced for the cold. And a rollicking good fight.