Under the Moon (22 page)

“Sam, you go in with her,” Nick decided. “I’ll stay out here and keep watch.” He made a call on his cell phone. Sam’s rang and he answered, looking quizzical. “Keep that line open. You can alert me if you need me in there. She’s probably not a threat, and no one knew we were coming here, but no sense taking chances.”

“And you want to listen to everything we say,” Sam said with a smirk. Nick didn’t respond, but Quinn saw his silent laughter.

“You ready?” Nick asked Quinn, hand on the ignition. She nodded, and he started the car to glide up the driveway to the house. Her heartbeat seemed to keep pace with the car’s acceleration. He parked outside the garage and twisted the key to off. “I’m out here if you need me.”

“I know.” But she stared at the house in front of her and made no move to get out of the car. Fear, resentment, and hope all paralyzed her. She couldn’t even visualize what kind of reception she’d get. How would Tess feel when Quinn showed up on her doorstep? Would her daughter’s presence threaten the very nice life she appeared to have built? Or had they been waiting all this time, as Quinn had for them?
This isn’t all about you
, she reminded herself. This morning they’d gotten word of a new leeching in South Carolina. Quinn didn’t know the leeched goddess, but the database file showed her power source as wind. The leech had kept moving, and the Society seemed incapable of stopping him. They’d sent out new, more urgent warnings, but there was no way to be certain every goddess received them. No one had a photo of him, and Quinn wasn’t sure she’d be able to identify him from the generic sketch they’d attached .

Nick said the Protectorate was working overtime, but she suspected he wasn’t calling in because he was afraid they’d pull him and assign him elsewhere. She was selfish enough to be grateful. She didn’t want to say good-bye, though if anyone asked, she’d have said that the approaching full moon had given everything a new urgency. She couldn’t argue that she wasn’t a potential target anymore.

Which meant she needed to grow a set and get moving. She took a deep breath and shoved open her door to climb out, straightening her ivory wool pants and cotton sweater.

Sam pulled on a navy sport coat over his khakis and blue button-down shirt and adjusted the collar. “Chilly out here today.”

“It’s November.” The leaves were spectacular, flaming reds and brilliant yellows and oranges that were almost peach. The lawn was still a lush green, and the contrast made her think of jewels, which made her think of money, which tapped into additional insecurities she refused to acknowledge. It was stupid to guess at her parents’ motivations. “You ready?” she asked Sam.

“Whenever you are.” He stood patiently, god love him, letting her take all the time she needed.

They walked up the flagstone walkway to the black front door. Deep breaths temporarily stilled nerves that insisted on jangling. The doorbell rang the Westminster chimes, and they hadn’t died before the door opened, a pleasant smile on the face of the short, curly-haired woman on the other side.

Small as she was, she blocked out the chilly fall air and brilliant foliage and even, for a frightening few seconds, Sam. Quinn was eight years old again, looking up with a trembling smile and tears in her eyes, yet she towered over her mother, whose expression was politely inquiring.
She looks nothing like me
, Quinn thought, and the world came rushing back.

“Can I help you?” Tess’s gaze landed on Sam first, then swung to Quinn. She held the smile for a few beats before it faded into shock.

Chapter Nine

As a goddess approaches age twenty-one and discovers her power’s source and manifestation, emotions and hormonal changes wreak as much havoc as during puberty. Though responsibility for training new goddesses has traditionally lain with mothers and grandmothers, remember that support and educational materials are available through your local chapter or the national office.

—
The Society for Goddess Education and Defense
booklet, “Educating Your Young Goddess”

…

Quinn’s voice was steady when she said, “Tess Canton?”

The woman nodded. “Are you—?”

“My name is Quinn Caldwell. This is my assistant, Sam Remington. I’m your daughter.”

“Daughter,” Tess said at the same time. “Oh my god. Come in. Please, come in.” She spotted the Charger in her driveway and hesitated. “There’s someone— Is he with you? I mean…goodness, I’m all flustered.” She smoothed her hands down her pants. “Does your friend want to join us?”

“No, thank you. He’s fine out here.”

“I can’t believe—I never expected— Oh my Lord, I’ve got to call Ned.”

“Not yet, please.” Quinn reached out in panic, catching her arm. “I’d like to spend some time with you alone first. If that’s okay. And if this is a good time.” She closed her mouth before she crossed the line into babble. Had she felt steady a moment ago? It was gone already.

Tess’s eyes flicked to Sam, as if he belied Quinn’s request to talk alone, but she nodded without mentioning it. “Let me fix some tea. It’s nice in the sunroom now.” She led them to the room at the rear, through elegant, comfortable living space and past a formal dining room with a gleaming mahogany table. The sunroom was insulated and warmed by the rays coming through the skylights and glass walls. Quinn and Sam sat side by side on a cushioned wicker love seat, and Tess excused herself to make the tea. The tension snapped, and Quinn closed her eyes for a moment, knowing it would return with her mother.

“She’s pleased to see you,” Sam murmured. “And not very cautious. We could be anyone.”

“I wonder if she’s even aware of the leech.” Quinn glanced out the doorway to make sure she wasn’t coming back yet. “She wasn’t wary of you.”

“No,” Sam agreed.

But then, even if Tess knew about the leech, what mother would suspect her daughter, or the man with her daughter, even if she hadn’t seen her in thirty years?

Quinn looked around the room, focusing on the framed floral watercolors on the one non-glass wall; the smooth, expensive fabrics of the furniture and rugs; and the solid wood and glass coffee tables. Tess returned a few minutes later, carrying a porcelain-inlaid tray that matched the china teapot and three cups, as well as the small plate holding lemon cookies.

“I can’t believe you’re here. It’s been so long.” Tess set the tray down and sat in a matching wicker chair at a right angle to them. “Please, help yourselves. My hands are shaking.” She couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Quinn, and they shone with emotion. “How did you find me?”

Sam shifted forward to pour tea as Quinn answered. “Sam did. Computers can do anything, but you know that, right? Your husband is in software.”

“Yes, your father.” She looked stricken. “Oh, I don’t mean…I know your adoptive father was important to you. I’m so sorry about his death. And your…your mother’s.”

Taken aback, Quinn stuttered when she said, “Th-thank you. It’s okay. I think of you both as my parents, as well as the ones who raised me.” They’d been following her. They knew she was close to her father. That her parents had died, leaving her alone. So why hadn’t they ever contacted her? She couldn’t ask. That would reveal the twisting hurt in her chest.

“Do you remember when we came to visit you?” Tess asked.

“Acutely.”

“You were so beautiful, and so earnest, and I’ve regretted every day since then.”

Quinn’s lungs loosened. “Regretted what?”

Tess laughed uncomfortably. “Everything. Leaving you eight years before that, leaving you then, confusing you by showing up in your life and then not staying. But they loved you so much, we couldn’t even consider taking you away, and I knew staying in your life would make things too difficult.” She took a deep breath. “We found out the next day that I was pregnant.”

That answer eased the ache even more. They hadn’t chosen Marley over Quinn. They’d already decided to leave her where she was, where they thought she was happy and well cared for. And, of course, she had been. She couldn’t believe how much lighter she felt, having confirmation of what she’d always hoped.

“I just learned I have a sister,” she offered.

Tess nodded. “Yes. She turned thirty a few weeks ago. She lives in Maine.”

“Is she married?”

“No, much to my regret.” Tess looked uncertain. “Are you? Is he—” She focused on Sam, seemed to remember Quinn had introduced him as her assistant, and glanced outside. “Or—”

“No, I’m not married, either. I run my father’s bar in Ohio,” she began, and for half an hour, they talked business—Quinn’s, Tess’s, Ned’s, and Marley’s.

“You two make me look like a greedy old hag.” Tess laughed when Quinn mentioned that much of her work was pro bono or barter. “Marley is the same. She runs an inn and uses the crystals for so many different things. She can do only minor healing, but she’s got such a welcoming soul. She draws people to her and helps them find their path. She’s like a life coach.”

“Do you see her often?” Quinn poured them all a third round of tea. When she handed Sam’s to him, she smiled gratefully. He’d been a solid, reassuring support even though he hadn’t said a word.

“Not as often as we’d like, of course. She’s too many hours away, and the inn makes it hard for her to take a vacation or anything. We go up in the off-season, which is the same for both of us. Even Ned manages to get away then,” she added wryly, in obvious reference to his workaholism. She’d mentioned it twice.

“What’s she like?” Quinn asked. She held her breath, waiting for the answer. That was foolish, because of course Tess’s response would be biased. But she wanted Marley to be good, with an agenda that did
not
include overturned cars and hotel attacks. Or leeches.

Tess’s smile was proudly maternal. “She’s the sweetest thing most of the time, but so stubborn! When she was a little girl, she kept trying and trying to ‘get her goddess in her,’ as she phrased it. She collected everything, trying to find out what her power source was, which of course she couldn’t learn until she turned twenty-one. She nearly burned her room down when she tried fire. Flooded the kitchen hoping it was water. Piled rocks under her bed and crushed flowers all over her room. She even collected insects.” Tess rattled on, describing Marley’s affinity for horses and disappearing into a bedroom to retrieve the show ribbons Marley had earned in high school.

“She wanted to go away to college. Ohio State, in fact.” A cloud passed over Tess’s face, as if she’d thought of something she’d never considered before. “But…her father thought it best she go to Fairfield U for management—she always wanted to run a hotel.” Tess paused, her brows knitted.

It was the opening Quinn had been looking for. “Does she know about me?”

Tess refocused on her and looked worried. “Well…”

Quinn tried to hide her anger. She wasn’t here for a confrontation but for answers. “It’s okay if she doesn’t. I mean, I didn’t know about her.”

“We never told her. We thought it would be confusing and difficult…” She trailed off. Quinn guessed it would have been confusing and difficult for
them
, not Marley, and they hadn’t wanted their daughter to resent them for their secrets. Then, as time went on, it got harder and harder. She inferred it was the reason they hadn’t sought Quinn in her adult years, though she didn’t quite have the courage to ask. But she wondered if Marley had discovered it somehow. If she wanted to go to Ohio State to be near her big sister. What would be different now if she had, and they’d made contact in normal circumstances instead of suspicious ones?

Tess changed the subject, which drifted to her greenhouse and cosmetic work. “It’s mostly little things. I don’t advocate major changes. But sometimes the simplest adjustment can make life so much easier, especially for teenagers or people who make a living on their appearance. Like smoothing hair.” She smiled fondly at Quinn. “Not that I’d do anything for you now. You’re beautiful just as you are.”

Quinn didn’t care about stuff like that, but she flushed anyway. “Thank you.”

“How about me?” Sam spoke up for the first time. He fingered a small mole next to his mouth. “Can you get rid of this?”

Tess laughed. “As if you don’t know how much women love it. Don’t be silly. Those kinds of things add character and uniqueness to a person. We shouldn’t strive for some uniform concept of beauty. Here.” She rose and disappeared into the house, coming back a moment later with a photo album. “This is the kind of thing I mean.” She showed them a young woman with a major scar across her face. The before picture showed it puckered and reddened. In the after picture it was shorter and silvery, faint but still present.