Eileen Wilks - Ritual Magic

Julia snickered. “Well . . . I usually do my homework.”

Lily smiled.

Julia tilted her head. “What kind of mother was I?”

Oh, damn once more. She didn’t want to lie, but the truth was complicated. “You read stories to us when we were little, and you were wonderful when one of us was sick. You’d nag us about how we hadn’t taken care of ourselves, but in this really soft voice that was really saying I love you , never mind what the words were. Then you’d fix us whatever treat made us feel pampered. Oh, and you threw wonderful birthday parties. For my tenth birthday you rented a bunch of costumes, western stuff, enough for my whole class. We put on a play, making it up as we went along. It was fun.” Lily smiled, remembering. That had been her first birthday after the abduction. She hadn’t wanted a party, but her mother had insisted, and she’d been right. Not about everything, but about the party. Lily had been the sheriff.

“Was I strict?”

“About some things, yes, because you wanted what was best for us.”

Julia nodded. “Were we close? Me and my mother were really close.”

Lily licked her lips and tried. “I think you and your mother were unusually close. That’s the impression I had.”

“Yes, we were. But you and I weren’t.” Julia nodded again, decisively, and stood and dusted off her rear with both hands. “Good.”

“Ah . . . it is?”

“That’s a mistake, being too close. My mother was . . .” Julia’s voice thickened. “She was wonderful. She really was, and she didn’t know she’d die like that, so it’s not her fault, but . . . but it’s better if there’s a little distance. Mothers should take the very best care of their children, but they shouldn’t make it so it hurts so much when you lose them.”

With that, Julia headed for the door. “I am going to apologize,” she announced, “to Grandmother and Li Qin because I was rude, and to Toby because I shouldn’t have said that about him being stupid. Even if he does brag too much.” She opened the door and went back inside.

Lily didn’t move. She just sat there, robbed of speech. Had her mother always thought this way? That the truly loving thing was to keep some distance between her and her daughters so they wouldn’t hurt too much when they lost her?

Oh, Mother. She rubbed her chilly arms and stared up at the starry sky with damp eyes. You were wrong. It still hurts. It hurts a lot.

HOME.

That was what Rule felt as they drove down the familiar asphalt road . . . in spite of the subtle push-away that began the moment they passed the gate. In spite of the fact that he had his own home now, however unfinished it might be. He didn’t really know every twig and rock here. It just felt like it. Nor had he been away for long, only since their move.

It just felt like it.

“What does it feel like?” Lily asked quietly.

Startled by the echo of his thoughts, he glanced at her. She was watching him, her eyes dark in the shadowed car. He decided she was asking about the dissonance between Leidolf’s mantle and the way the Nokolai mantle claimed this land. That dissonance only affected Rhos, and only when they were on another clan’s clanhome. If he was wrong, if she was really asking if he ached from the rejection he felt every second . . . no doubt she’d let him know. Whether he wanted her to or not. “Rather like walking into a wind that blows from every direction. It’s not a problem.”

She cocked her head. “Maybe it will be okay to visit your dad sometimes, then. Eat some of Carl’s lasagna. See some of the people you’ve missed.”

“Perhaps.” This place had been the center of his world for most of his life, and now it pushed him away. Home didn’t want him here.

“Does it help to focus on the portion of Nokolai’s mantle you hold? It must be happy to be here.”

Lily always personified the mantles, in spite of all his explanations. “I’m fine, Lily. It’s a minor discomfort, one I can easily ignore for the short time we’ll be here.” Though he’d done poorly at that so far, allowing himself to be distracted. That needed to stop. “It looks like Abel is here already.”

“We’re late.”

She sounded so grim he had to smile. Lily hated to be late. “By less than ten minutes. I think they’ll forgive us.”

His father had left the porch light on in the universal sign of welcome. The van—which held Toby, Julia, Li Qin, Madame Yu, and six guards—pulled up behind Abel’s government car. The van had been an airport shuttle in its previous life. They could have all ridden in it, had Rule been willing to bring fewer guards. He wasn’t.

No one had attacked them on the way, though, and he wouldn’t need Leidolf guards at his father’s house. He’d arranged for them to enjoy a nice four-legged run with a few Nokolai. The two clans needed to get used to each other. Some of his guards had stayed with him here at Clanhome before the move, but most had not.

He should have come here sooner, he realized as the car pulled up behind the van and stopped. He should have been bringing his men here all along to train with Nokolai the way he’d been doing in D.C. If he had, Santos might have accepted José’s authority better. Which made Santos’s failure his, as well—a failure he would have cemented in his soul if he’d killed the young man who was currently deeply miserable, but alive.

Thank God Lily had shown up in time. Stubborn woman. He smiled as he stepped out of the car and inhaled, which told him several things . . . Isen had had spaghetti and meatballs for supper. Home still smelled right, however it might push at him. And . . . “Sam doesn’t seem to be here.”

“He watches over Nettie,” Grandmother announced as she climbed down from the van, “so Benedict may attend.”

“Hey, Dad!” Toby shot out of the van at his usual pace. “Can Danny and Emmy come over? They’d like to meet Julia, I bet.”

Rule’s gaze flicked to the five-foot-nine twelve-year-old exiting the van behind his son. “I’m afraid not. We’ll be discussing confidential matters. Would you like to go to Danny’s?”

The excitement leaked out of Toby’s voice. “I guess not. Carl’s probably got cake or cookies or something.”

Toby was as interested in sweets as any other boy, but that wasn’t why he didn’t want to go to his friend’s house. He didn’t feel safe away from Rule. Rule understood that. He didn’t want to let Toby out of his sight. When he thought of how close Toby had been to those dworg, how differently it all might have ended . . . best not to think about it. They’d have to get over their mutual clinging, but for now, Toby stayed with him. “Let’s find out,” he said cheerfully enough and roughed up Toby’s hair.

“C’mon, Julia,” Toby said and set off for the front door at his usual clip.

The door opened and Isen stood there, solid and sturdy as a tree, beaming at his grandson, arms opening for a hug. “Toby!” he boomed happily, as if he hadn’t seen the boy in months. Toby barreled into him.

Then it was Rule’s turn. His father was a world-class hugger, and for a small pinch of a moment Rule felt as safe as Toby must have when those strong arms closed around him. This, too, I could have lost . . .

Enough of that, dammit. Rule moved on into the house, hating the anxiety that had trailed him like his own shadow since the dworg attack. Normally he would have slid closer to his wolf to relieve it. To the wolf, it was simple. He’d won that battle. His mate and his brother and his Rho had won theirs, as well. What was there to be anxious about in that? But the man was too aware of how easily it might have gone differently for any one of them. The man kept thinking of that, dammit, no matter how often he pushed those thoughts away.