Almost Final Curtain (14 page)

I cupped my chin in my hands, and scowled at the laptop. Was Bea right? Did I favor vampires?

My prickly defense of the honor guard had triggered that first fight between me and Nik, and then Elias, and then my fangs....

Shit.

I was saved from further self-recriminations by the sound of someone downstairs. “Mom!” I shouted, as I jumped up to peer down the open staircase. “Finally! Where have you been, young woman?”

Only it wasn’t Mom. From my vantage point from the railing, I could see a figure standing next to the coat-tree. He was shutting the door behind him, quietly. I was about to run back to my room to dial 911 when he turned and I saw his face clearly.

It was Dad.

O
h crap. I was in more trouble than I thought. My dad had tried to come in the house once before. Mom had wrapped him in a magical spiderweb cocoon and kicked him, literally, to the curb. Things must be pretty serious if he was willing to just waltz in like he owned the place.

Man, our wards sucked.

And I should really start locking the door. Anyone could wander in.

“Amelia?” he called for my mother, and then for me, “Anastasija?”

“You must know Mom’s not home, Ramses,” I said, coming down the stairs. Vampires were vulnerable to witch magic, and my dad had always held a healthy respect for Mom’s abilities. But I had no idea what he thought of me. We almost never spoke, which was another reason why his visit was so extraordinary. I’d gotten the sense that he generally approved of the way I handled myself during the big showdown last fall between the witches and vampires, but there had been no coronation or any other public recognition that I was his heir since. Maybe this princess stuff was all just a figurehead position, since he was, well, immortal. It wasn’t like I would ever sit on the throne.

So I tried to sound tough, as I asked, “What I want to know is, did you kidnap her?”

Dad and I shared the same straight, jet-black hair. He wore his slightly longer than I did, and tied it back at the nape of his neck. Somehow, despite all the time he spent underground, it shone silkily in the half-light. Vampire magic—or damn good conditioner.

“I couldn’t hold Amelia captive even if I wanted to,” he said lightly. My dad’s voice had the trace of a foreign accent, though I couldn’t tell you which one. “Besides, it seems you’re the one playing political games, not me.”

It always surprised me that Dad wasn’t taller. He commanded a lot of presence, as we say in theater, so when I came up to stand beside him, I was shocked to notice that he wasn’t that much taller than me. He did have this fabulously regal, hawklike nose, which made up for a lot. I was just as grateful not to have inherited that, but it made him look kingly.

“Elias came to me,” I said, deciding that it was best just to confess. I was terrible at court intrigue, despite what Dad might be implying. “I just gave him an excuse to do what he already wanted to do.”

“Oh?” Dad’s eyebrows drew together. His eyes were the color of my left one, a startling ice blue. Though his shone with an intense brightness; I doubted mine ever did.

“Yeah,” I said, feeling kind of stupid arguing in the front hall. I should offer him a seat in the parlor or something to be polite, but that would kind of ruin the moment. “He would have gone against your orders anyway. He’s got something to prove about the talisman.”

“Elias went after the talisman?”

“Um, that’s not why you’re here?” My voice broke.

“No,” he said coldly. “Though I’m glad to be apprised of my knight’s intended treachery.”

Cripes.
Way to drop Elias in it, Ana.

“Why don’t you invite me into your parlor? It seems we have some things to talk about.”

Mom had gotten really mad at me the last time I officially invited Dad in. So instead of actually saying the words, I gestured in the direction of the unused formal sitting room. My dad dipped his head in a nod and confidently walked into the dark room and found a seat on the sofa. At least, I assume that was what he did. Without using my vampire eyes, I could only guess from the sound of the squeaking springs. Fumbling around for a few minutes, I found the faux-Tiffany lamps and switched them on.

“Don’t be too mad at Elias. He was awfully torn up about it,” I said, settling myself into a large overstuffed chair that smelled faintly of dust and pipe smoke. “Anyway, I don’t think he did anything against you. There’s been nothing on the news about a break-in.”

“And yet, my spy inside the History Center tells me otherwise.”

“Wait—what do you mean? It’s gone?” Dad nodded at my question. “You mean Elias did it? He stole the talisman?”

“Someone did,” he said, leaning back. His arm stretched across the doily-covered back, and he crossed his legs. I had to admire Dad’s air of command; it was quite studied. “At this point, it seems I must hope that my trusted knight has gone rogue.”

I chewed my lip. “Yeah, I guess so.”

What would happen if it wasn’t in Elias’s possession? If a witch had it, they could enslave all the vampires again. Possibly even me. That would totally screw up my plans for the spring play, to say the least.

Dad seemed to be studying my reaction. His lips twitched before he said, “This is why spontaneous engagements are such a bad idea.”

Was he talking about Khan or me and Elias? “Why is that again?”

“Because people make foolish decisions for love.”

I stared at him, and he glared back with a challenge in his eye, as though he knew I’d take his comment personally. But ... I thought he approved of me and Elias. Had he changed his mind? I frowned at him for a long time. One thing was certain: I wasn’t very good at this kind of political cat-and-mouse conversation style. “Are you implying something about me?” I finally asked.

He looked startled, but recovered his composure quickly. “As a matter of fact, I am. Especially in light of recent developments, I feel Constantine is beneath the attention of royal blood.” I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of that, but he held up a hand and talked over my protests. “However, the reason I am here is because I suspected Amelia had the talisman. I’d hoped to try to bargain for our freedom. But instead you accuse me of kidnapping her. Should I assume the worst?”

“I haven’t seen Mom since last night,” I admitted, my voice shakier than I intended. It distressed me that I’d lost track of the time, and now it was well past supper. I cleared my throat. “But, well, you know, maybe she’s got a new boyfriend or something.”

I was hoping Dad would have some insight into Mom’s whereabouts, but he snorted, like he had as much trouble imagining a boyfriend as I did. “Amelia would never leave you alone for so long. Especially not for a
man
.”

Well, I guess Dad knew Mom pretty well after all.

“Perhaps she’s holding council with those irritating Elders of yours,” he said, “deciding what to do with the talisman.”

“You don’t think Elias has it?”

“Elias, as you said, wants to prove his ability to hang on to the talisman this time. If he had it, I’m sure he’d let me know.”

“Maybe he thinks it’s safer if you don’t.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed dangerously. His posture stiffened. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees. Thin fingers pointed at me like arrows. “Be certain before you hurl accusations, little princess.”

Man, Dad was touchy. Or nervous. Maybe he didn’t trust himself to hold on to the talisman either. Still, it wouldn’t do to ruffle his feathers any more than I already had. “Um, okay.”

Silence stretched, and I found myself noticing the tangled cobwebs clinging in the folds of the velvet curtains, smudges on the leaded-glass window, and the smell of old books. After staring at me for a long time, Dad visibly relaxed. “You will do something for me,” he said.

“I will?”

“Yes. You will be my spy here. Amelia knows something, I’m certain. It’s far too convenient that she’s missing at the same time as the talisman. You will report her comings and goings to Elias.”

“Uh,” I started, but he lifted a hand again.

“It’s decided,” he said with a flourish. Standing up, he swept out of the room. “I will expect word of anything suspicious or strange.”

Strange? My mom was always strange. “I don’t think I can do this,” I said, but he was already at the door, letting himself out. I scrambled to my feet. “Dad!”

He stopped midstride. I’d forgotten that I’d never called him anything other than Ramses out loud. “What is it, my child?”

“I can’t spy on my own mother,” I said from where I hugged the archway. “It’s not cool.”

The look he gave me was patronizing. “You’ll do fine. You already speak to Elias on a regular basis. Just let him know if you think Amelia has the talisman. You would tell him that anyway, wouldn’t you?”

He had me there.

I nodded. “All right,” I said. “I suppose.”

“Then I have your word,” he said. “Oh and please stop making marital decisions for vampire families you know nothing about. You’ve caused the family quite a lot of trouble. I should make you handle the Southern prince who no longer has a wife,” he added, and swept his royal self out the door.

 

 

I poured myself a bowl of cereal and took it back into the parlor to eat. It was such a grand room. Kind of a shame we never used it. Against one wall was an upright piano I had vague memories of taking lessons on. The rest of the room was filled with a half dozen bookshelves piled with the kinds of things regular people read—mysteries, nonfiction, philosophy, cookbooks. I imagined Grandma and Grandpa spent a lot of time in this room. I wondered sometimes if Mom avoided rearranging things to preserve their memories or because she wanted to leave them locked in one place and forget them.

My own recollections were based more on yellowed photographs than actual impressions. Had they been alive to meet Dad? What did they think of the whole vampire/witch union? Did they approve?

I should remember to ask Mom sometime.

Sitting in my grandfather’s chair, I munched Cap’n Crunch. Through rippled glass, I watched clouds pass in front of the full moon.

Full moon!

Relief washed over me. Of course! Mom was at the covenstead, celebrating esbat!

It was still unusual that she hadn’t left me a message, but she probably ran late at work and forgot. I’d gotten myself worked up over nothing! And worse, the fact that I’d had no idea tonight was full moon meant Bea was right. I’d completely abandoned my witch side. What kind of witch didn’t even follow the phases of the moon?

When I finished my cereal, I switched off the lights in the parlor and put the bowl in the kitchen. On the wall near the sink Mom had a trivet with a pentacle in the center of it. My fingers brushed the five-pointed star shape, allowing me to sense the residual magic with which Mom had invested it. Under my hand, the cast iron felt warm, and the scent of loamy dirt tickled my nose briefly.

Back in my room, I discovered the station on my laptop playing an old 10,000 Maniacs song, and my phone complaining about a low battery. I found my charger, and when I plugged it in, I decided to text Nikolai. I told him I heard his interview, and I wished him a happy esbat. While I was thinking of it, I sent Bea the same, only I asked her if she’d heard Nik on the radio.

Then, before Bea could even respond, I added that she was probably right about me. I’d been a terrible witch lately. Well, to be fair, I was kind of pouting. Since I didn’t pass my Initiation, I wasn’t allowed in the Inner Circle, where Real Magic was practiced. But it wasn’t like I didn’t know the Goddess was real insofar as magic worked. Heck, even the vampires worshipped the Goddess in their own way. Ah well, I could at least pray like I used to.

My altar had been gathering dust. I used to be so proud of its simple, elegant design, even though it wasn’t much more than trinkets gathered on the top of a bookshelf. Grabbing an old T-shirt from my dirty-clothes pile at the bottom of my armoire, I polished everything. I replaced the statuette of the Egyptian cat goddess, Bast, and the snake-headed Nile goddess figurine.

Snake-headed. Weird.

I held the goddess in my hand for a moment. Wasn’t that what the infamous talisman was supposed to look like too? The image of the sleek female figure with her arms upraised was ubiquitous in both the Wiccan and True Witch communities. You could find versions of it everywhere—coven logos, Web sites, and even T-shirts. I think I’d ordered this one from some New Age store in Madison. No, Mom had given it to me as a solstice present.

Had nonwitches recognized the power of this symbol unconsciously? Or had they seen it held up by witches to control vampires in the past and tried to copy it?

Either way, I no longer wanted this symbol of vampire slavery on my altar. I dropped it into my desk drawer. It landed at the bottom with a thunk. Great. Now I didn’t even have my familiar goddess to look to for guidance. I felt weirdly adrift.

My phone trilled. Bea sent me a smiley face and said she was glad I’d “come around.”

I asked her if her dad had given her a Nile goddess for her altar. Bea’s dad was one of the coven’s Elders. Though witchcraft traveled matrilineally through the bloodlines, Bea’s mom had, like me, failed the Initiation. Anyway, I was curious if we were all encouraged to have this same icon. Like Elias had said the other day, we might forget what it meant, but vampires would always remember. But I kept that last part to myself.

Bea wrote back that of course he had. Why did I ask?

In my room I could find a dozen or more likenesses of the Nile goddess. Mom had even sewn one into the quilt on my bed. Wow. It was such a slap in the vampire face. Like saying, “We could own you again, see?” I determined to get rid of every one of them. Why hadn’t Elias said anything?