Red-Headed Stepchild

Page 45

“About time you joined us.” His voice wavered, and I have to admit I felt a little shaky myself. Our eyes met and held for a moment—an intense look shared between two beings uncomfortable with strong emotions.
“Lilith protect me.” Lavinia’s whisper caught Adam’s attention.
Despite the sudden urge to burst into tears, I managed a shrug. “I try.”
Lavinia’s shrill voice broke into our little bubble. “Why aren’t you dead and burning? I made sure the stake went through your heart.”
I took a tentative step forward, not quite trusting my strength yet. The movement caused my grandmother to take a step back. I placed a hand over the healing wound over my heart. “Oh, you hit it, all right.”
“Then how?”
“It appears I inherited more than magic from my father’s people.” When she still looked mystified, I said, “The forbidden fruit has no effect on me.”
Her mouth gaped open, and for a moment, I reveled in my ability to shock her. Finally, she recovered enough to say, “You’re an abomination!”
I shrugged. “I guess I am.” I glanced at Adam, who winked at me. I had to struggle to keep a straight face. Despite the acid churning in my stomach and the weakness from my wounds, it felt good to have the upper hand with my grandmother for once in my life.
“What should we do with granny now?” An undercurrent of steel in Adam’s voice contradicted the casual wording.
Lavinia’s chin came up. “I’m not afraid of death.”
“Oh, we’re not going to kill you,” I said.
“We’re not?” Adam said.
Grandmother’s expression turned mocking. “Some assassin you are. You always were weak.”
I stepped forward and got in her face. “As much as I hate you right now, it’s taking a lot of strength to not kill you.”
“Talk to me, Red.” Adam sounded worried.
“We’re not going to kill her. She doesn’t deserve an easy out.” I never took my eyes off hers as I spoke. “No, we’re going to let her live so she can see me destroy everything she holds sacred.”
“What is this nonsense?” She sneered but the corner of her eye twitched.
I spoke slowly, so she’d not miss one word of my vow. “I will not rest until you are alone, powerless, and hunted by those you ruled.”
“I’ll find you,” she said. Her eyes burned into mine. “And when I do, you’ll regret you were ever born.”
“I’ve wasted enough of my life doing that because of you,” I said. “Instead, I think I’ll return the favor.”
Before she could respond, Adam chanted something in Hekatian. A flash of yellow light engulfed Lavinia. In a poof of smoke, she disappeared.
I rounded on him. “Hey!”
“Sorry, I just thought you might enjoy having the last word.”
I glanced at the space where she’d stood, deciding he was right. “Where’d you send her?”
“Siberia. Lovely this time of year. A bit remote, I’m afraid. Might take her weeks to find a town and even longer to arrange transportation back to the States.”
My lips quirked. I didn’t feel like laughing, but the image of my half-millennium-old grandmother trudging though snow was kind of funny. “You’re sick, you know that?”
“What can I say? I thought a cold-hearted bitch like her would feel at home in the tundra.”
I looked around at the warehouse. Spilled wine, which spread like pools of blood among the ash of the dead, coated the concrete. A shiver passed through me as I realized tonight’s battles were merely the early skirmishes in the larger war to come.
“So what now?” Adam asked. His voice had lost all traces of humor as he too surveyed the aftermath of violence.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Adam limped over to Vinca’s broken body. In death, her throat had healed and her body had taken on an iridescent cast. She looked like a wax statue instead of a corpse. Adam lifted her, cradling her body against his own.
“We’ll find her family,” he said. “They’ll want to bury her in a sacred spot.”
Gritting my teeth against the tingling of awareness threatening to rush back in the form of anger and tears, I followed him out of the warehouse. Together, we marched through the now-blackened vines, littered with bodies of winery workers. Frank and his men had obviously been busy.
When we reached the van, Adam gently laid Vinca’s body on one of the rear benches. He closed the back doors of the makeshift hearse. His face was grim, but his eyes told the real tale. Through them, I could see his soul had aged.
He took his cell phone from his backpack, which he grabbed before closing the doors. After pressing a few buttons, he lifted the phone to his ear. Without a word, I watched him talk to someone at the Hekate Council. His voice caught as he described the scene in the lab, where the bodies of his comrades lay. I walked a few feet away to give him some privacy.
I looked up at the night sky. The same stars twinkled in their constellations. The same moon hung low in the sky. Yet nothing was the same. Nothing would ever be the same.
Adam hung up behind me. “They’re sending a team to retrieve the bodies. I should probably stay to help.” When I turned to look at him again, I didn’t know what to say. I knew I should offer to stay and help, but I knew I couldn’t go back in there. Adam must have read my thoughts. “Can you handle taking Vinca to her family on your own?”
I paused, suddenly overcome with doubt. Delivering Vinca’s body to her family would tear me apart, but I knew I had to do it myself. However, something else nagged at me. Adam seemed a little too quick with the offer to leave.
“You’ll be okay by yourself?” I asked. Before the words left my mouth, I felt a tingle in the air. About ten feet away, a figure materialized. The male was soon joined by a handful of others, who also appeared out of thin air.
Adam sent me a smile. “When I said they were sending a team, I didn’t mean by car.”
“Oh,” I said, watching even more mages appear. Soon, about twenty surrounded us. A male, obviously the leader of the group, came forward and shook Adam’s hand.
“Lazarus,” he said. “About time you called.”
“Councilman Orpheus, sorry … things were … complicated.”
“They always are with you,” Orpheus responded. He looked at me with a curious yet distant glance, but then did a double take. “Impossible,” he breathed, staring at me as if he’d seen a ghost. The other mages had all stopped too, staring at me with mixtures of curiosity and shock.
“Sir, let me introduce Sabina Kane, daughter of Tristan Graecus.”
I shifted on my feet. “Hello.”
“You found her?” Orpheus said to Adam, as if I wasn’t standing there, even though he continued to stare. “We knew they were twins, but we didn’t know if they were identical. Maisie will be ecstatic.”
I cleared my throat and looked at Adam. “There’s about fifty mages inside who need to be put to rest. Maybe we should hold off on the long-lost-sister issue.”
The man shook his head as if to clear it. “Of course, I’m sorry, it’s just I hadn’t expected to meet the chos—”
Adam cleared his throat and interrupted. “Sabina, you’d better head out if you’re going to make it by sunlight.”
I looked at Orpheus curiously for a moment, wondering what he was about to say. Realizing I probably didn’t want to know, I turned to Adam. “She told me they live in the redwood forest near Crescent City. I’ll call you when I get there and let you know about the arrangements.”
He nodded gravely. Orpheus, after one last thorough look at me, had walked away to shout orders at the other mages. “Please do,” Adam said. “I’d like to be at the funeral.”
I nodded and scuffed at the dirt with the toe of my boot. I suddenly felt self-conscious. After everything we’d been through that night, it seemed odd to part so casually. But with so many mages milling around, I didn’t feel right getting all emotional. Besides, I couldn’t be sure what Adam was thinking. He probably wanted to get back to New York and I had to figure out what the hell I was going to do.
“Sabina,” he said, breaking into my thoughts. I looked at him and our eyes met. Unspoken emotions passed between us—sadness, regret, relief, anxiety, longing. I don’t know who moved first, but I soon found myself wrapped in a fierce hug. This wasn’t like the hug that started the ill-advised make-out session in the van. No, this was an embrace shared by two warriors after a battle, as well as one of two friends mourning the loss of a comrade. “Be careful,” he whispered, his lips just above my ear.
I screwed my eyes shut against the sting of hot tears. I knew if I let one go, the dam would burst and I’d soon be a puddle. Instead, I sniffed and pulled back. “You too.”
“Lazarus!” Orpheus’ voice was a blessed interruption. Adam looked over his shoulder.
“Coming,” he called. He turned back to me, his hands still on my shoulders. “Call me.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. With one last squeeze, Adam walked away. I watched him go for a moment. His shoulders squared, as if he’d switched into business mode. As he and the other mages disappeared over the fence to do their grisly duty, I turned to the van, ready to do mine.
The keys were in the ignition. I started the motor and adjusted the mirror and seat to my satisfaction. When I could put it off no longer, I turned to look at Vinca. Adam had covered her with a blanket he’d found in the storage compartment.
“Let’s get you home,” I said.
Only when I’d driven out of sight of the vineyard did I allow the tears to fall.
31
When I reached the forest, Vinca’s family was waiting for me. I’d stepped out of the van ready to deliver the speech I’d practiced during the six-hour drive from Napa to Crescent City, which lay about twenty miles from the Oregon border. I was so wrapped up in getting the words right, it hadn’t occurred to me to find it odd that a couple of dozen nymphs were standing in the clearing just off the parking lot of the park.