The COMPLETE Witching Pen Series, Boxed Set (54 page)

“Elena…”
 

Oh, God… “Mum!” She darted into the room and took her mother’s hand as gently as she could, despite her overwhelming need to throw her arms around her. She looked so frail. Her mum may have been a stranger to her most of her life, but she’d never been frail. “How are you feeling?”

The whites of her eyes were tinged yellow, and her voice came out hoarse. “A little wrecked, darling.”

“I’ve got water here for you. Can you sit up a bit?”

She helped her up against the cushions, then handed her the glass that was sitting on the nightstand, but her wrinkled hands were shaking, so Elena held it up to her lips for her.

After a couple of sips, she’d had enough.

Elena placed the glass back, and smoothed her white hair away from her face. “You’re safe now.”

“My soul is saved, thanks to you.” She squeezed her hand back. “To die in the Shanka world, would have meant to have my soul reside there forever, always in shadow.”

“Mum, you’re not going to die. We’ll find a way to—”

“No, Elena.”

No?
“A number of us just risked our lives to save you, if you think—”

“You have saved me, I’ve already told you.”

Karl came up behind her. “Mrs Green,” he smiled.

She returned his smile with a genuine one of her own. “Boy.”

He chuckled. “I hope you understand that none of us are prepared to let you go that quickly.”

“Evidently.”

“Mum,” said Elena, blinking back tears. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.”

“Elena, sweetheart, that you came at all after everything I’ve kept from you…”

“Of course I would – how could I not? I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby girl.”

“Look at what they did to you.”

“I could have been treated worse. The Shanka have ways of making things … pleasurable.” The grimness behind her smile did nothing to make Elena feel better. In fact, she wanted to rip her own skin off. How could she be related to these monsters?

“I tried to heal you when you were sleeping. I couldn’t. Nathaniel told me that a Shanka could give back what another had taken, but … several Shanka have been taking your life, not just one. I did what I could, but we’ll find another way.”

Her mother contemplated her for a minute, then turned to address Karl. “Do you think you could give me a minute with my daughter?”

“Of course.”

He bent down to kiss Elena. “Just call me if you need me,” he said softly, in her ear.

“I will.”

“Glad to have you back, Mrs Green.”

“Thank you, Karl … for everything.”

He paused a second, nodded, then left the room.

Her mum brought her hand up to her lips and kissed it. “I’m so glad you’re happy, Elena. I didn’t know if you ever would be. I’ve always wondered whether keeping you was the act of a selfish mother, not willing to give up her daughter, when she knew all the hardships she would have to put her through.”

“Oh, Mum, it’s all forgiven. You’ve had hardships; we’ve all had hardships.” Her grandfather came to mind, and irritated, she shook him away. Instead, she remembered what Karl had told her about sensing Gwain. “We need to get hold of Gwain. I think he can help you. He could—”

“No.” And that was a definite don’t-argue-with-me tone.

“But—”

“Gwain is a man with his own path. You are
not
to call him. Even if he were here I would never let him give any more of himself for me.”

“Mum—”

“He has made enough sacrifices, Elena.”

She paused, and studied her mum. “What is it with you and Gwain? You didn’t write about him in your diary. Were you together?”

Her mother laughed, and in her aged state, it sounded more like a cackle. “No. Oh, it’s complicated. I suppose I never wrote about him, because it never felt right to – he was always such a private person. He was my guardian. Your grandfather assigned him to watch over me when I turned eighteen – my own, personal chaperone.”

“Well, that would be typical of my grandfather, wouldn’t it?” snapped Elena.

“Hush, child. I would have done the same thing if you had behaved like me.

“My mother died of cancer when I was sixteen – there are some things even magic can’t fix. Your grandfather pretended he wasn’t going off the rails. I never bothered with pretending – I did go off the rails. Dad never spoke to me about Mum’s death. Not once. I was confused. I felt alone. One day, I heard him crying as I walked outside his study. I’d never heard him cry before. The door was ajar; I peered in and saw him clutching a photo frame, and I thought, maybe, just
maybe
I can begin to understand him. And then I saw that the photograph was not of my mother, but of someone else.”

Oh, shit … that would be Amy.
Elena inwardly cringed. She had to remember not to let her mum meet Amy until she knew the whole story.

“That’s when I lost it. I rebelled at home; I rebelled at The Council. I stopped going to studies. Instead, I looked for every way I could find to hurt my dad, the same way he had hurt me that day.”

“Didn’t you ever ask him about the photo?”

Katherine threw her a wistful smile. “That would have been the sensible thing to do, Elena. But I never did. Like father, like daughter – I was never good at talking to him either. Is he … is he still around?”

“Yes he is, although… Well, that’s complicated too. Why don’t you tell me about Gwain first?”

Or maybe your mum would like to rest first,
scolded the voice in her head. Bugger. How totally selfish to pummel her for information now… “Or maybe rest for a bit, then—”

“No resting. I’m finally talking to you after seventeen years…” A tear trickled down her sunken cheek. “Nothing’s more important than this.” Her mother’s face crumpled, and then Elena was in her arms, both of them crying, as if every tear could heal every minute they’d lost.

“Ellie,” she whispered.

She hadn’t called her that since before the ‘butterfly incident’. Fresh tears streamed down Elena’s face.

“I’m so, so sorry for everything I put you through. You were such a sweet child, you know that? So loving; so kind… You’d have healed the whole world if you could. I love you so much, Ellie; I always have.”

“I know, Mum. I’ve always loved you too.”

They sat like that, mother and daughter wrapped in each other’s arms, for what could never have been long enough. They sat there until Elena got an ache in her spine from the way she was leaning, and reluctantly had to move.

Her mother reached for the glass of water, seemingly a bit stronger now, and gulped half of it down. “Where were we?” she asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Elena’s ear. “Ah … Gwain…”

She shook her head in memory. “In one way, there’s not much to tell. I exasperated him by always getting into trouble, and he exhausted himself trying to keep me out of it. Dad was obsessed with demons, so I decided I would be too. I think a part of me wanted to show him how much I hated his obsession. I discovered all about the seven tribes, and the Shanka fascinated me the most. On my eighteenth birthday, in an obstinate show of my coming into independence, I performed a spell that would call the Shanka to me.”

“You did what?”

“Yes, sweetie. It was I who sought them out, not the other way around. I was so very hard-headed – took after my mother. You’re more like your grandfather, you know.”

She had no idea what to make of that comment.

“After my spell, Dad sensed something was wrong, although he wasn’t sure what at first, but that man had some kind of sixth sense for demonic activity. That’s when he assigned Gwain to me. At some point over the course of the two years that I was his ward, Gwain started to hint at being in love with me. I’ve never believed it though. Oh, there were feelings, sure, but love? Whether true or not, it was unrequited – I had become infatuated with the Shanka King, Darius – your father.”

“You chose a Shanka demon over Gwain?”

“Elena.” She pulled on her hand, and Elena scooted closer to her on the bed. “I’m not sure what Gwain’s up to nowadays, but back then, he was lost. You must have seen that look he’s got – always a little distant; always
just
out of reach. He never told me that much about himself – other than those suggestions of love on his part, we kept our relationship strictly business – but, in his eyes, I could see a lot of what he kept hidden, particularly with my knack for clairvoyance. He used love – or at least the pretence of it – like a shield. When he told me he loved me, it was somehow to stop himself from getting hurt; when he told me he loved me, he was really saying it to somebody else. I have no doubt he’s got a lot of love to give, but … he’s an all or nothing kind of man, and whoever he’s supposed to be with can give nothing less in return, or she won’t survive him. There was no way that was going to be me.” She paused for a second, her gaze fixing on some portion of her past. “You know, I reached out and touched his soul once with my powers – it was sort of an accident, but I was too intrigued to pull away…

“What I touched horrified me. It felt like a vacuum, as if some crucial part of him simply wasn’t there. It was
so vast
, Elena. A part of him is tortured. Broken. Even if I had loved him, there wasn’t enough of me to fill that hole.”

Her mother gave her head a shake, and smiled at Elena, once again in the present. It occurred to Elena that in the past ten minutes, she’d seen her mother smile more than in the past seventeen years. Of that alone, she was grateful.

“So … it’s your turn.”

Her heart sped up a notch. This was the part she wasn’t looking forward to.

“Tell me about your grandfather – what’s been happening since I’ve been gone?”

~*~

Amy materialised in her living room, and half a second later wondered if teleportation was bad for the baby. Shit. Why hadn’t that crossed her mind?

Don’t stress, Amy – it’s not even the size of a pea yet.

Yeah,
she argued with herself,
but you’re already throwing up, and you shouldn’t be yet – not at two and a half weeks. Blinkin’ messiahs, and their supernaturalness…
 

How in heaven’s name was she going to bring up a messiah?

“Great,” she muttered to the silence, “let’s add ‘I’m going to be a bad mum’ to the long list of things to worry about.”

“You’re not going to be a bad mum.”

She jumped and screamed, whirled around, magicked the lights on, and froze when she saw Pueblo sitting at the bottom of the staircase. Honest to God, she didn’t know whether to throw herself in his arms, or beat the living crap out of him.

“You ran,” she blurted out, unable to hide the hurt in her voice.

“I did.”

And then she realised where he was.

“You ran here.”

He stared at her, sombrely, and she wished she could take back the past two hours. Sombre sucked. There was nothing better than happy Pueblo with a gleam in his eye as he teased her mercilessly. God damn it, he lit her world.

“I did,” he said. “Where else is there to go when you’re all I think about?”

She removed her scarf and coat, and flung them on her sofa. “Pueblo—”

“Don’t. Please. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be told you’re having another man’s child?”

“It’s
your
child.”

“It’s
half
my child. You
slept
with him.”

“I didn’t even know who I was! You know, technically and legally, I
was
his wife. It was before we made love in the desert, and for your information I was having a sexy dream about you when it happened.”

He looked up, surprised. “You were?”

“Yes. Of course, I didn’t know it was you I was dreaming of, but isn’t hindsight the bitch that’s always late to the party.”

His mouth quirked up in a half smile, and she half-smiled back, resisting the urge to go to him. She didn’t want him fleeing again.

His smile wavered, then disappeared. “You’re soul-bonded to him.”

“I’m blood-bonded to you.”

“A soul-bond is ancient – it’s stronger than anything.”

“Stronger than choice? Stronger than my free will?” And then she couldn’t stop herself from approaching him any longer. She was still careful not to touch him though. She perched on the stairs, two steps down from him. “I
choose
to be with you, Pueblo. Isn’t that worth something? That you’re the one I want
despite
whatever direction our bonds try to pull us?”

“So you do feel yourself pulled towards him, then?”

A sigh escaped her. “I’ve never lied to you—”

“You didn’t tell me about Elizabeth’s memories.”

“Because I was trying to gather myself and make sense of it all,
not
because I was lying. I had every intention of telling you … and if you had outright asked me if I remembered her life, or if I’d slept with Paul, I would have told you the truth.”

“
Are
you pulled towards him?”

Maybe
this
was the apocalypse, happening right here in her living room.

She hugged a knee into herself. “Yes.”

“Do you love him?”

“I don’t not love him.”

“What? Amy—”

“That’s the truth. I don’t
know
whether I love him, okay? Elizabeth did love him, but the feelings
I
have – everything we’ve been through – they’re just so bloody complicated, I can’t make head or tail of them... but I know that I don’t
not
love him. That’s the best way I can think of to put it. I’m sorry if you need something clearer, but I don’t have that clarity right now.”

He dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his temples.

“I
do
know that I love you, though. And I can promise you that I will
never
sleep with him again.” Emotion rocked her voice. “Pueblo, you’re my future. The way I feel about you is hope, and passion, and life, and heat… I wanted you the first time I ever laid eyes on you, before I took your blood, and I want you to be this baby’s father. You’re the only one who can be. Paul’s dying. He said so himself: he’s here to see the birth through, and then he’s gone.”