Nightwish (An Echoes of Eternity Novel Book 1) (26 page)

I hadn’t expected such vehement anger. Stunned, I stepped back to regain my bearings.

“Did she ever tell you about her husband?”

“No.” I’d inquired about him multiple times, but Grams always changed the subject and never explained why, so I eventually stopped asking.

“I knew exactly who my mother was. But maybe she turned a new leaf when you came around.”

“As she told it, you gave up on her. Seems that’s a habitual thing with you.” Those words shot out of my mouth the moment they formed in my head.

“You were a brat,” she said with the same emotion of a smoker tapping her cigarette to remove the ashes from the tip. “You cried every time I picked you up. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

“A great reason to unload a child.”

“I was sensible. It could have been worse. I could have wrapped you in newspapers and tossed you in a dumpster.”

I just stared at her, shocked. How could she say such horrible things? Just the idea burned me up inside. Based on her blank expression, Delphine had long ago justified her actions and had no regrets. “So you handed me off to the mother you felt did a poor job of parenting. That’s seriously fucked up. I just feel bad that Alexis had you as a role model.”

“What do you know about parenting? You don’t have a child!”

My eyes immediately went to Celestina, who returned my gaze. “You’re right, I don’t. But I know it demands selflessness and sacrifice. And you sure sacrificed a lot for me, didn’t you? Very admirable.” I swung my attention to my sister. “But you’re a better parent than that, Alexis, so you can’t relate to that, now can’t you?”

I’d put my sister in an unenviable position, and I was curious how she’d respond.

A disturbing smile touched her lips. “I think Mother was wise to dump you on your grandmother’s doorstep. You’re a poor excuse for a witch.”

“I agree. But given the circumstances, I think I’ve done pretty well so far.” I noticed movement to my left: my mother swung her body towards me in an attempt to…what? Distract me? My instincts took over, and I prepared for an attack. Only when I angled toward her to fend off an attack, a surge of heat shot through my arm. And since I extended it towards her, I accidentally sent a ball of fire at the hem of her dress.

It lit the fabric on fire, eliciting a yelp from my mother, who jumped in fright.

I hadn’t expected to respond that way. It left me speechless.

Alexis swung towards our mother, shooting a vortex of frost and ice pellets on her skirt, dashing out the flames.

Without warning, as though assuming I’d attempted to hurt our mother, Alexis lifted her right arm and directed it at me. A gust of frigid air flowed from her palm, so cold that white wisps of oxygen flowed between us.

Expecting a whiplash of chilly air, I lifted my right hand and concentrated on diluting the cold air that rushed toward me. Sparks flew a few centimeters from my palm and sent a jet of flames toward my sister.

Celestina screamed and leapt to her feet.

I tried not to let my niece distract me. If I gave her the least bit of thought, I’d no doubt lose the blazing heat I sent toward my sister, and end up getting frozen in the process. The flames that I’d hurled now clashed with the ice Alexis sent my way. Astonished by how quickly the orange flames flared from me hand, I was overcome with adrenaline, which spurred the blaze even hotter.

Alexis, shocked by the speed and force with which the flames rushed toward her, jerked back, wincing at the onslaught of heat. A moment later, she regained her balance and retained her wits. She smirked and pushed her palm toward me with greater emphasis.

The gust of chilly air transformed so that sleet rushed toward me, popping at the flames. I didn’t know what to expect from Alexis, but since she surely had much more control over her powers than I did, I prepared myself for the unexpected. My outstretched hand vibrated from the pressure, making it difficult to remain steady, so difficult in fact, that I felt my hand pulling back towards my chest, unable to withstand the assault.

Within seconds, sleet had bypassed my firestorm, and a dozen or more specks of ice pelted my face, breaking my concentration and lowering my defenses, allowing even more shards of ice to sting my face. Turning aside, I tried to regain my focus and did my best to defend myself, but with so many specks of ice swatting my face, making it difficult to see, I couldn’t maintain my stronghold.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Alexis asked with an egotistical grin.

I cringed as dart-like agony hit my forehead, cheeks, and chin. No matter how hard I tried to remain upright, I couldn’t fend off the deluge of force striking me. The pressure sent me to my knees.

Celestina rushed over. She stood on the outskirts of where we fought each other. “No,” she screamed again. She jumped up and down, getting closer to the fire and ice with each bounce, willing to enter the fray in order to persuade us to stop trying to hurt each other.

I still held out my hand and did my best to throw off the flurry of ice that easily rushed past my spiky flames. I snatched heavy breaths and tried to remain upright to retain some measure of pride. But no matter how hard I battled, my sister commanded too much power, making it difficult for me to stay on my knees.

“Just as I thought,” said Alexis in an arrogant tone. “So sad!” She didn’t even look at her daughter.

Her admonishment, and flagrant disregard for her daughter, brought about a rush of animosity so strong that I felt a vortex of heat building inside me. I pushed that blazing pulse of heat at my sister, but she combatted it with ease. The truth revealed itself: even at my most uncontrollable, my limited powers were no match for my sister.

Unwilling to let her defeat me, I ended my fiery assault and slid my leg out to the side, using a different defensive measure, one that didn’t rely on magic, one that I’d displayed countless times in the past. It allowed me to slide under and away from the cold fury that, until now, had raged toward me.

Alexis hadn’t expected me to sidestep the onrush of frost coming my way. The freezing sleet blasted across the room, slamming into the back wall with a thunk, sending slivers of ice into a pile on the floor. Redirecting her attention, she swung her right arm in my direction.

But rather than use magic, I relied on tactics that came most naturally: I rushed her, closing the ten-foot distance between us within a couple seconds. While Alexis adjusted her aim, I had already made my way over to her. I threw my hand to the ground to prop myself up while I swept my right foot under her left ankle.

Alexis slipped to the ground, propelling a line of ice toward the ceiling, but when she hit the ground with a thump, the chilled salvo she spread ended.

I scrambled over to her and grabbed a fistful of her hair, prepared to punch her in the face. But my peripheral vision caught sight of Celestina’s concerned face, and all of the desire to hit my sister left me. Rather than let her go, I grabbed her shoulder, found a pressure point, and pressed down hard. As expected, the move rendered her powerless.

“I won’t hurt you,” I whispered in her ear. “But try to hurt me again and I promise you will learn what
true
pain feels like.” I paused to let those words sink in, unsure if she’d recognized that she’d won our contest of supernatural power, or if she simply believed I went with a different tactic to catch her by surprise. “Do you understand?”

Nodding in pain, grinding her teeth together, she let out an affirmative grunt.

I let go and straightened up.

Alexis lowered her left side to the ground as though I still dug a couple fingers into her muscle. She let out a few deep breaths and rolled her injured shoulder to regain mobility.

“Are you okay?” Delphine asked her, more out of duty than concern.

I snickered. “She’s fine. Now where were we? Oh, right: you wanted the grimoire. Well, as I said before, that’s not gonna happen.”

“And you came here to tell us that? I don’t think so. You want something in return for it.”

“I came to show you what just happened. I hope you’re smart enough to leave me alone.”

“Yet you were the one who tried to light me on fire.”

“Accidents happen.”

“So you’ll understand if something…inopportune happens to you? Oh, now I see why you came here: to test your sister’s power.” A satisfied grin took hold of her. “Are you satisfied?”

Before turning away, I met my mother’s gaze. “Yes. I am.” Then I spun around and headed toward the door. A lesson had been learned. My mother knew I couldn’t match Alexis’s power, which in turn meant Alexis was her firstborn child.

It meant my sister would keep me at a distance, so I couldn’t get close enough to defeat her in hand-to-hand combat. The next time we faced each other, Alexis would use magic from afar. And most likely win.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I couldn’t go home because I’d invited Darius inside, and I couldn’t go to the shop because everyone I
didn’t
want to see knew about that place, so I returned to River West, a neighborhood just south of my home. Kendall and Brandon lived on the third floor of a three-floor apartment building that had been redeveloped in the 80s but held up nicely, although on any given day, the hallways either smelled of Polish, Scandinavian, Hungarian, or Ukrainian food. Since Kendall and Brandon didn’t care about their fellow residents’ cook-offs, every month the four families representing those nationalities waged war in the kitchen by actually paying Kendall and Brandon a small fee to test their best dishes and rate each selection on specified score cards, which the families then posted in their homes as motivation in order to take the apartment complex title at the end of December.

“Hey,” Kendall said to me, wearing jogging pants and a tank top with the words, “Girls Night In” scrawled across it. She opened the door for me, allowing me to enter. “Surprised to get your text. Two nights in a row! Is everything all right?” She peered down the staircase, but seeing no one, she stepped back inside and shut the door behind her.

“Things are getting kind of intense,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you kidding? Always glad to have you stop over. Brandon’s out.” She rolled her eyes.

I took those two words and her expression to mean:
trying to score with some dumb chick or another
. “Good. I need your advice on some things.”

“Yeah?” She walked across a thick and shaggy red carpet that looked like Ronald McDonald’s hair and plopped down on a brown suede sofa that shot a swift cloud of dust into the air. “Cool. Hit me.”

I blew at the dust and waved it away before sitting down. “Has Brandon turned into Pig Pen? I thought you made a deal: weekly showers or hit the road!”

Kendall laughed and nodded at the glass of Merlot on the end table to my left. She grabbed the glass to her right and held it out for a toast. “To the baddest witch bitch on the planet.”

We clinked glasses and I took a deep swallow from my glass. “Glad you went there, because that’s what I needed to talk with you about.” I spent the next twenty minutes describing everything that had happened today, while inserting my own feelings, insecurities, and fears. Then I waited for her response.

“So if I got this right,” Kendall said, pouring herself a second glass before doing likewise with mine, “your mom is evil who wants this grimoire thing that’s invisible, the guy sworn to protect you is probably evil and now has no issues with throwing you around, your sister can polar vortex you into January, this demon who has a crush on Minnie Mouse wants your sword, and our new band member – who will probably end up being your next boyfriend – is a half-demon.”

Kendall gave her comments some thought. “Yeah, but have you heard about what I’m dealing with?” She lifted her left index finger. “This hangnail is a bitch!”

Laughing loosened the tension in my shoulders a bit. “My mind is in meltdown mode.” I sipped my wine. Whenever I needed to face the truth, no matter how painful it might be, I turned to Kendall because she seemed incapable of sugarcoating any situation. “Any suggestions?”

“Hire a project manager to deal with the supernatural threats and focus on the romance. You don’t want any schedule conflicts, do you? Because what girl doesn’t want a bad boy?” She cocked her head to the side. “Granted, you’re dealing with, pretty much, the ultimate bad boy.” Sensing that I was no mood for humor, she said, “Sorry. You just look overwhelmed. I wanted to lighten the mood.” She swilled some wine. “Do you really think he’s…a demon?” She paused. “He certainly didn’t seem evil. Then again, Hannibal Lecter seemed like an eccentric psychiatrist at first, so what do I know?”

“I don’t know what to believe. I guess I’ll have to wait until I see him again.”

“Well, you can’t help your mom, Darius, Mephisto, or even Nolan. But it sounds like you still need more information about the grimoire, and maybe your sister can fill in the details. If you get tight with her, maybe you’ll understand why your mom wants it.”

I nodded, trying to envision approaching my sister about the topic…after our smack down. Despite that, I still didn’t harbor any ill will towards her. She fought me to protect our mother. I couldn’t blame her for attacking me. I just couldn’t imagine speaking to her without arousing suspicion.

“And as much as I
strongly
dislike Alexis – and I can’t stress that enough, even if she doesn’t want to mess with Brandon – if someone can discourage her from dropping helpless kittens into a burning cauldron, I’d put my money on you.” She gave that a moment of thought. “Not that I have much money.” She shook her head. “Which reminds me. Could I hit you up for a twenty?”

Her confidence and humor lifted my spirits. “Alexis could be a good person…I don’t want to give up on her.”

“Would you be doing it for Celestina? For Alexis? Or for yourself?”

“All three,” I said without hesitation. Now that I knew what I wanted to do, I needed to find out how to go about it without Alexis questioning my motives, and that’s not something I could talk over with Kendall. I decided to switch the subject. “Notice anything different about Brandon?”

“Yeah, he’s acting kind of weird: more friendly and helpful. He was vacuuming and sweeping the kitchen floor. He only does that when he’s suffering from PDSH: Post Dramatic Stress Hangover. Which granted, doesn’t happen much, but when it does, it’s
hilarious
. He puts on his iPod, and
whala
, he turns into a professional housekeeper: cleaning the windows and baseboards, bleaching the sinks and bathtub, dusting, doing the laundry, cleaning the dishes. He’ll be at it for hours, and the best part? He takes it so seriously! He makes it seem like some intense concentration is needed to sprinkle cleaning solution on the bathroom mirror.” She took another sip of wine and smiled at the memories.

“I think he’s into you.” Dammit! It just slipped out. After I’d told myself to stay out of her personal life! But, if I hadn’t planned to tell her, I wouldn’t have broached the topic.

When Kendall swallowed, the wine must have gone down the wrong pipe, because she started coughing and her face turned red. “What?” she asked, wheezing for breath and swallowing awkwardly.

I couldn’t stop now. If I tried, Kendall would pester me until I finally gave in, so I decided to save myself the time and frustration. “When you went to confront my sister, Brandon and I were standing against the bar counter, and he said, ‘That is so hot!’ At first, I thought he was talking about my sister, but thinking back, I now get the impression that he was talking about you.”

A flush of red ran up Kendall’s neck, and her hand trembled as she tried to put the wine glass on the end table, only to almost miss the first time before setting it down successfully. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, a tremor interrupting a smooth delivery.

“Is it?” I asked, actually glad to continue on this matter since it allowed me to momentarily disregard all things supernatural. “I know how he looks when he’s interested in someone. But a word of advice: maybe your ball busting, however much he may pretend to like it, isn’t something he’s into. Guys want to feel powerful. Not emasculated.”

After a long moment, Kendall nodded. “I guess that makes sense.” She snatched the bottle of wine off the coffee table, grabbed her glass, and got to her feet. “But let’s not go any further with this, okay? It would make things
really
awkward. So let’s pretend this conversation never happened.” She spun around and practically scurried into the kitchen.

I got up and followed her. “Don’t do that.”

That made her stop. She didn’t move for a few seconds. Then she turned to face me. “I need to.” She shook her head as though doing so automatically made her words ring true.

“You’re always honest with me.” I made my way over to her. “Don’t stop now.”

Tears built in her eyes and she looked off to the left. Kendall opened her mouth, but a high-pitched squeak came out instead. As though that gesture was an admission of the truth she hadn’t even spoken, she cringed, pushing tears from her lids that rushed down her cheeks.

I wrapped my arms around her. “Finally,” I said in quiet, joyous relief. “You admitted the truth!”

Kendall let out airy cries as each sob wracked her body, hitching the glass of wine in her hand as her arm shook. “I don’t know what to do,” she said, barely audible. “I’ve tried to like other guys. But I can’t. No matter what I do or say, I can’t
feel
anything for them.”

“Because you love Brandon.” I needed to say those words because I knew it would be too much for Kendall to admit now, and I wanted her to get to that place. “You always have.”

The crying continued. But this time Kendall put her arms around me. I couldn’t remember the last time she and I had such a touching moment, probably because it took a lot for her to reveal her feelings. Then she started squeezing me tighter, as though doing so released all of the pent-up frustration and longing inside her. The wine glass clinked against the wine bottle.

The noise startled Kendall. She loosened her grasp and backed away from me with a bowed head, since her hands were full, and she couldn’t wipe away her tears. She started chuckling in the bashful way that occurred only after revealing a tightly held secret that didn’t have catastrophic results. She lifted her wrist, cleared some of the mascara tears off her cheeks, and then did the same with the other side of her face. 

“Now what?” I asked.

She laughed louder. “How should I know? It’s not like I’ve had a
real
date in the past three years.”

“I guess that means those guys weren’t
real
either.” I gave her a sidelong glance. “You haven’t started abusing life-size blow-up dolls, have you? I mean, even if one looks like Ryan Gosling, it’s still just plastic and full of air. Imagine if you jumped that thing one night and punctured his lung. He’d let it rip with a ton of gas! A farting Ryan Gosling is still—”

“Not an image I want to fester in my brain,” Kendall said. “Ryan Gosling does not partake in any ungentlemanly endeavors. He is as perfect as every character he plays in the movies.”

“Yeah, he’d
never
take on a role where he tries to get romantic with a sex doll!”

Kendall let out a pent up sigh and grinned. “Thanks, I really needed that. But let’s change the subject, okay? I’m tapped out. Let me work up to sharing more as time goes on.”

I’d take whatever I could get, so I didn’t push things.

“You know, I’m curious. What does Alexis do as a job? Does she even have a job?”

“She designs a lingerie line. But I can’t imagine her working in an office or delegating tasks to employees.” Could she have lied? To make herself appear more important?

“I can imagine her wearing lingerie,” Kendall said. “But that’s about it. Maybe you should follow her. See what you can find out.”

*

The next morning, I followed Alexis to learn her daily routine. At 11:00 AM, she entered a strip club named
Angels of Babylon.
When she didn’t exit the building after twenty minutes, curiosity got the best of me, so I went inside. A pleasant cedar smell wafted through the room. I tapped my foot to the beat provided by AC/DCs song, “You Shook Me All Night Long.”

The interior was immaculate: a few dozen men wearing business attire sat in elegant, plush chairs or walked across clean carpets with drinks in their hands as they made their way towards the stage, where my sister slinked around a pole, canned lights shining down upon her from the ceiling.

If Alexis owned a growing clothing line, why would she spend her days as a dancer at a strip club?

I couldn’t take my eyes off my sister, who rocked a body so toned, agile, and flexible that I couldn’t help but flush…because, notwithstanding the fact that Alexis had a better body and better dance moves than me, we were identical, and she gave me an idea of what I might look like if I were leaner. With her hair pulled back in a carefully constructed messy ponytail and a pair of dark shades cops often used, Alexis wore red sequined short-shorts and a bikini top sporting the red, white, and blue.

I didn’t want anyone to see me (since word would undoubtedly get back to Alexis), so I stuck to the perimeter of the club, watching how the men eyed my sister while she swung her limbs around the pole, sliding up and around it in a sexy rendition.

One man with a watch that flashed silver and gold waited at the stage, waving bills at my sister. Another wearing blue jeans and a black button-down shirt stood beside him doing likewise. Other men, some in the middle of eating seafood or steak for lunch, stared at her, unable to return to the food on their plates until they’d gotten an eyeful of Alexis.

A moment later, my sister shimmied toward the front of the stage toward the two men who smiled up at her, waving money in her direction. With a coy smirk, she bent over, giving them plenty of cleavage to admire before sashaying closer to get on all fours along the polished hardwood floor. She crawled toward them with a lusty grin.