Darkmoon (The Witches of Cleopatra Hill Book 3) (2 page)

Oh, how I wanted to believe her. But she hadn’t been there, hadn’t seen the dead look in his eyes when he stared at me. True, he’d just buried his brother that day. We should have been comforting one another, though, not engaging in our own personal cold war.

But if there was even the slightest possibility that she might be right….

“Okay,” I said at last. “If you want to take his words at face value, then maybe it’s possible it’s not totally over. It’s just that right now I have a hard time believing that.” And as the words left my lips, the tears followed right after, and I began to cry, body wracked as each sob tore its way out of me.

Sydney slipped out of her chair and came over, pulling me into her arms, holding me until at last the tears were spent and I couldn’t cry anymore. My heart was dry as a desert.

Pulling away from me gently, she asked, “Do you want me to stay? I threw some stuff in the trunk as I was leaving, just in case. I could tell from the way you sounded on the phone that this was major.”

I wiped my eyes again. No more mascara; it had long been washed away. “I love you, Syd,” I said simply.

She smiled. “Love you, too. And you’ll get through this. But let me go get my stuff.”

In response I nodded, and she headed out to her car while I stayed in my chair and tried to pull in deep breaths. Yes, this was all really bad, but at least I wouldn’t have to deal with it alone.

For now, that would have to be enough.

S
ydney ended
up staying with me for two days. When I asked about work, she just shrugged and said she’d called in sick, and when I gently probed about Anthony being okay with her being gone for so long, she shook her head at me and said, “He’s a big boy. If he can’t handle two days without me, then we’re going to have to have a talk about clinginess.”

After that, I let it go. I needed her there; the house felt so big and empty on the few occasions when she went out to get us food and other supplies that I knew I couldn’t handle being there on my own. Not yet, anyway.

During one of those trips to Grapes to get us pizza, she was gone a fairly long time. I thought I knew why — I was in no shape to face any of my family, but I was fairly certain she’d stopped in at my Aunt Rachel’s apartment to explain to her what was really going on. Maybe I should have been angry with Sydney for taking the initiative like that. I found that I didn’t mind so much, though. Telling Syd had been hard enough. Having to repeat the whole story to my aunt would be even worse, because although she might refrain from saying “I told you so” out loud, she’d certainly be thinking it.

No, it was good that Sydney got that out of the way for me. Aunt Rachel would spread the word, and that meant whenever I finally felt ready to leave the house, I wouldn’t have to worry about explaining myself over and over again.

On the third day, though, Syd couldn’t put off work any longer. So she hugged me and told me to call if I needed her.

“No matter what,” she said sternly as she paused on the porch and pulled her sunglasses out of her purse. “I mean it.”

“I’m okay, Syd,” I replied. It wasn’t a total lie; by that point I felt as if I could get through at least an hour without feeling as if I were going to dissolve into tears.

And if I did, so what? No one would be around to see me sobbing uncontrollably, and I’d learned that I could break down, have my cry, then wipe my tears away and go on for another hour before that horrible choking sensation seized my throat and I began to weep again.

Probably not the best way to live, but I had to start somewhere.

Shifting her weight from one foot to another, she studied me for a few seconds, then nodded. “All right. I’ll call you on my break.”

“Sounds good,” I told her, summoning a watery smile.

She didn’t buy it, I could tell, but I also knew she had to leave now or be late for work. A quick hug, and then she was hurrying down the front walk to her car. She’d been parking it in front this whole time, since she claimed there was no way she was going to deal with the narrow alley that backed up to the garage, with its awkward angles and blind spots. I really couldn’t blame her. Not wanting to go back into the house and face its emptiness, I sat down on the top porch step.

It was actually a beautiful day. Here in Jerome it was almost ten degrees warmer than Flagstaff, the temperatures in the upper 60s, puffy clouds scudding by. The trees were still bare, but some of them had the faintest mist of green along their branches, evidence of buds that would begin to pop any day now. And I could see down into the valley, watch the clouds trace their way over the hills and the river bottom, moving fast. My eyes seemed to be pulled northward, past the red rocks of Sedona, over the mesa….

Don’t do it,
I told myself.
Just look someplace else. Anyplace else.

But somehow my gaze felt inexorably drawn to those brooding mountaintops in Flagstaff. We hadn’t hiked all the way up to the top of Mt. Humphreys, since there was still too much snow for it to be safe for a beginner like me. However, Connor had promised we’d go in the late spring, saying that when you were standing up there, it felt as if you could see the whole world.

This time the pain came as a sudden knifing ache deep in my chest, as if someone had just buried a blade there. I let out a little gasp, felt the sting of tears in my eyes. Goddess, would this ever get better? Or was I destined to feel Connor’s absence like a raw, gaping wound for the rest of my life?

I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if anyone knew. This wasn’t an ordinary breakup — or separation, if you wanted to use Sydney’s more hopeful terminology. A
prima
and her consort were only supposed to be separated by death, and nothing else. I had never heard of a bonded couple like us simply…breaking up.

A shadow fell across the path, and I tore my gaze away from the faraway peaks in Flagstaff, seeing probably the last person I would have expected approaching the house.

Margot Emory.

I blinked a few times, hoping it would be enough to dispel the tears that had begun to gather. No way did I want Margot Emory catching me in a moment of weakness, however well-deserved.

She paused at the bottom of the steps and looked up at me. Her hair, dark enough for a Wilcox, was pulled back into a silvery barrette at the base of her neck, and even though the morning light was merciless, I couldn’t see any lines in her pale, smooth skin. As usual, she looked perfect, minimal makeup flawless, not a hair out of place. No wonder Lucas Wilcox had been so interested in her.

But my own love life was complicated enough without worrying about Lucas’ romantic woes at the same time. “Hi, Margot,” I said, praying that I would sound reasonably normal and not clotty with choked-back tears.

“Good morning, Angela,” she replied. Her voice was brisk and cool, just as I remembered it. “So your friend is gone?”

“Yes. She couldn’t take any more time off work.” I sat up a little straighter, setting my palms down against the sun-warmed wood of the porch. “What, were you just waiting for her to leave so you could come talk to me?”

A flash of irritation crossed Margot’s face. “I did think it better if I could speak to you alone.”

Great. So this definitely wasn’t a social call. Sighing, I got to my feet and said, “Then I guess we’d better go inside.”

“If you wish.”

I most certainly did wish. I wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to talk to me about, but I guessed it probably wasn’t the sort of thing I really wanted my neighbors overhearing. Especially since my cousin Adam’s parents lived just a few doors down and often walked their dog right past my house.

So I led Margot inside. For a second or two I was tempted to take her into the dining room, make her sit in that formal room to speak her piece, but I decided that wasn’t very polite. Instead, I took her back to what had been the sitting room and now was the family room, with its comfortable leather couch and matching arm chairs, and small fireplace. It wasn’t really cold enough today for a fire, though, so I left that alone.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked, knowing it was probably best if I followed the forms, even if my heart wasn’t in it. “Coffee? Tea? Water?”

“Nothing, thank you,” she replied as she sat down in one of the chairs.

Figuring I might as well get this over with, I plopped down on the couch and crossed my arms. “So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Anyone else might have looked surprised at my lack of ceremony, but Margot merely tilted her head slightly and said, “I wanted to know if you were ready to be our
prima
now. Or do you plan to hide in this house indefinitely and only speak to your civilian friend?”

Anger flashed through me. That was fine, though. I preferred anger to the sadness that seemed to lurk behind every thought, every memory, just waiting to pounce. I snapped, “Well, I don’t know, Margot. I thought the clan got along just fine the three months I was up in Flagstaff, so I figured a day or two more while I tried to get my head straight would be all right.”

Her dark eyes held understanding, but no sympathy. “Do you think you’re the only person to have ever loved and lost?”

Despite her even tone, I caught the edge to her words. Certainly I’d never envisioned Margot being in love, but then again, I didn’t know that much about her, as she had always been a very private person. Yes, she was a clan elder, even though I knew she was about ten years younger than my Aunt Rachel. She liked to garden. Her mother was still alive, although she’d moved down the hill to a fifty-five-plus community in Clarkdale. And that was about the extent of my knowledge regarding Margot Emory.

“Of course I don’t think that,” I retorted. “But I’m pretty sure I’m the only
prima
to have ever split from her consort. Or is there something you haven’t told me?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m afraid your situation seems to be unique.”

Great. I was unique.

“And, despite what you might think,” she continued, “we got by while you were gone, but we certainly weren’t
okay
. The
prima
should have been here for Imbolc and Ostara, to lead the observances. We muddled through, but it’s more than that. The
prima
is the touchstone for our clan, the guide. Our protection. You understand that now, don’t you?”

I had to nod. Until my powers awakened, I really hadn’t grasped the true strength of a
prima
. Protection. Defense. I had used that power to defeat Damon Wilcox. Fighting back a sigh, I told her, “Yes, I do. Or at least I think I do. But I’m not sure how much protection you need, now that Damon is dead. Connor certainly isn’t one to follow in his brother’s footsteps.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” I said flatly. He might have thrown me out, might have broken my heart in a hundred thousand pieces, but I still trusted Connor to do the right thing when it came to using his magic, even if that magic wasn’t precisely his anymore, but the power of a
primus
. “Connor is…good. I know you don’t want to believe that of a Wilcox, but it’s true. And so are his cousin Lucas and so many more I could name. I won’t defend Damon’s actions, because they were terrible, but he’s gone. We’re safe.”

Throughout this speech Margot had listened patiently, but I could tell by the slight furrowing of her brow that she didn’t really believe me. Fine. Sooner or later she’d figure it out. Or maybe she wouldn’t. I knew I didn’t have the strength to keep arguing with her about it.

“Perhaps you’re right about that,” she said at length. “Even so, our clan still needs its
prima
. So are you going to do your duty by your clan or not?”

I knew there was only one reply I could possibly make. That destiny had been mine long before I met Connor Wilcox. My heart might be shattered, but my spirit and soul were still intact.

“Yes, Margot,” I replied calmly. “I am ready to be our
prima
.”

I
can’t say
things went back to normal after that — after all, I’d barely been the
prima
for two months before Damon Wilcox kidnapped me — but it did feel as if everyone had been holding their collective breaths, waiting to see what I would do. After I realized there wasn’t much I
could
do except try to settle back in Jerome and put Connor Wilcox from my mind, I didn’t exactly stop hurting. However, I did find enough to occupy my time that those occasions when the pain welled up and threatened to overcome me gradually grew farther and farther apart.

After the first week, people stopped tiptoeing around me. I couldn’t stop Adam from giving me hopeful glances, as if he was thinking that now the Connor episode was safely behind me, he might have a chance again. I knew that would never happen, that I couldn’t even conceive of being with anyone except Connor, but I couldn’t think of a polite way to tell Adam that. Mostly I tried to be friendly and casual, and maybe he got the hint and maybe he didn’t. All I cared about was whether he’d attempt to force the issue, but he knew better than to try that. One thing about Adam; he was patient. I just didn’t know how to tell him that he could wait a hundred years, and it still wouldn’t change the way I felt about Connor.

It would’ve been easier if I could have hated him.

I distracted myself with planning the remodel of the kitchen, and consulted with Terri, the decorator who’d done the rest of the house, as well as an architect she recommended. It was going to be a massive project, since we’d decided to expand the kitchen another five feet into the side yard. I had to assure Margot and the other two elders that the exterior of the house would be restored so you’d never know the difference, and they still didn’t look thrilled by the prospect. All right, Ruby had barely touched the place all the years she’d lived there, according to them, and I suppose they wanted me to follow in her footsteps. Still, it was my house, and my remodel. I’d do it the way I wanted…and hope it would be enough to distract me.

Because of ordering tile and appliances, and having to wait for the architect’s preferred work crew to be available, construction wouldn’t actually get started until almost the end of May. That was good, because when I roused myself from my catalogues and blueprints and paint samples, I realized more than a month had passed since I’d left Flagstaff.