Between Light and Dark (24 page)

Laurell's chest tightened. Well, of course the purpose of
her mother's visit was to discuss the mission. She doubted
the woman even meant what she'd said about trying to
make things right between them.

"You can tell them I'm pregnant. Step One accomplished." Her voice wavered slightly. She grimaced. She
would not show any emotion to her mother. And why was
she getting upset anyway? Because in any other situation, a
woman telling her mom she was pregnant would be cause
for celebration?

Elaine nodded. "That's good news."

What did I expect? A hug? Even if it had been offered, the
gesture would have felt forced and awkward to Laurell.
"That's all I'm going to say. We're done here. Next time, I
won't respond to you at all."

A pained expression took over Elaine's face, and her eyes
narrowed in warning as if she knew what Laurell was about
to do. "Laurell ..."

Laurell tilted her head to one side, ignored the warning
in her mother's voice, and promptly woke herself up.

She blinked her eyes open to confirm she was back in
her cabin. The bedside clock indicated she'd been asleep
for only twenty minutes.

Maybe she was behaving badly. Maybe it was childish to
hold on to her anger at her mother. But the woman sure
had given her a lot to be angry about. Was she supposed to
forgive and forget just because Elaine was dead?

But Elaine wasn't guilty of everything Laurell had assumed: she hadn't killed herself. At least she says she didn't.
Yes, she'd reneged on her pre-life agreement to be the Earth
Balancer's mother and left Laurell holding the bag-but if
she hadn't, Laurell would never have conceived a child of
her own.

A pang of guilt sliced through her, but then she remembered the years of being ordered around by her mother and
pushed the guilt away. She couldn't let her anger go. That
anger had given her strength, kept her going during all the
years when she had felt so alone.

She yanked the covers to her chin and reveled in her
newfound ability to thwart the astral visits from her Liaison.

"She can't do that," Elaine cried, fists clenched in frustration. She paced the main hall of the Divine Council's meeting chamber, white gown flowing behind her like a flag.

Mobius touched her arm to calm her. "Your concern is
understandable. You must give this some time."

"Time?" Elaine snorted. "I'm dead. I have to reincarnate
soon. I don't have time."

He cocked his head to one side. She spoke the truth. Her
descent to Earth was delayed only by her role in the mission. Once it was complete, she would be reincarnating to learn from the mistakes of her past life and continue her
soul growth.

"You said the child has been conceived?"

"That's what Laurell told me."

"Then we have approximately three months' time before
the Earth Balancer will be born."

"Three months, not nine?"

"The Earth Balancer will not be completely human, and
therefore will not require the usual gestation period," Mobius explained. "Do not give up on Laurell. I believe she
will reconsider."

"But she won't talk to me. How am I supposed to make
amends if she won't even talk to me? For that matter, how
am I supposed to be the Liaison if she keeps waking herself
up when I try to contact her?"

"I may have a solution." Willow's soft voice announced
her arrival in the chamber. Her golden hair curled over her
shoulders, and the full skirt of her robe made a swishing
sound as she crossed the room. As usual, her scent, fresh
and clean as the air after a summer storm, followed her.

"Do share," Mobius encouraged.

"The grandmother, Helen? Does Laurell not feel affection for her?"

"Yes."

"Why do we not send her to converse with Laurell? Perhaps she can pave the way for Elaine."

Mobius pressed one finger to his chin. "Where is the
grandmother, exactly?"

"She is in the Soular Realm." Anticipating Mobius's next
question, she said, "And yes, we can break her away from her
studies. I spoke with the Soular Council, and they have
agreed to release her without penalty so she may assist us."

The Soular Realm was where humans went to study all of their past lives, in order to determine what errors or
progress they had made so they could decide whether or
not to return to Earth to continue their learning.

"I believe that is an excellent solution, Willow. Let us
brief the grandmother, shall we?" Mobius took Willow's arm
then and pulled her out of earshot of Elaine, who had returned to her frantic pacing and appeared lost in thought.
"Have you any news of the investigation?"

Willow would know he spoke of the undercover investigation he had initiated after learning that one of the gods
had tainted Helen's visions. It was imperative they determine who had attempted to thwart the mission.

Willow shook her head. "Simply questioning the goddesses
and gods is getting me nowhere. I have enlisted Avina's assistance."

"We are certain Avina is not suspect?" Avina was the
beautiful, fiery-tempered goddess of justice. She was the only
deity who could tap into the thoughts of other gods and goddesses, and so could prove instrumental in determining the
culprit.

"I am positive, Mobius. Just as you trust me, I trust her,"
Willow said.

Mobius nodded his agreement. If Willow trusted Avina,
he did as well. Willow's judgment was sound. And as the
goddess of justice, it was nearly impossible for Avina to be
deceitful.

Laurell wandered into the kitchen for the third time that
afternoon in search of a snack. The child was making her
ravenous. At least, she blamed the child. Maybe she was
just stress-eating.

"There's some chocolate cake in the fridge. Hillary made
it yesterday," Fiona offered as Laurell walked by.

The two had yet to really discuss the tainted glamour
spell, but they'd called an unspoken truce.

"Thanks, that sounds good." Laurell rummaged through
the fridge until she found the Tupperware container with
the cake in it. Moments later, dessert in hand, she was
about to leave when Fiona patted the chair next to her at
the dining-room table.

"Sit," she said. Laurell hesitated. The other woman gave
her a warm smile and a nod. "I'm serious, have a seat. I
want to talk to you."

Wary, Laurell took the chair next to Fiona. The other
woman wore a red sweater and blue jeans, and her cherry
red hair was tied in a casual ponytail.

Her green eyes were wide with sincerity as she spoke.
"I've been a real jerk to you, and I owe you an apology."

Laurell blinked. Was she serious?

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I hope
you'll consider giving it anyway," the High Priestess continued.

Laurell chewed, and stared at Fiona, uncertain how to
respond. Should she believe her? She'd seemed just as sincere when she was giving Laurell the fake glamour spell.

"Say something. Please," Fiona pleaded. She twisted her
hands in her lap. Laurell had to admit she liked seeing
Fiona nervous. She'd started to think the other woman
never had a moment of uncertainty.

Laurell tilted her head to the side and took her time
formulating a response. When she did speak, her voice
was low and even. "Perhaps you can start by explaining
why you've been such a bitch to me. I mean, I didn't even
have any choice about coming here. What do you have
against me?"

"Nothing. Not anymore, anyway." Fiona threw her hands in the air. "There is no excuse for my behavior. Even saying
`forgive me' seems stupid and it doesn't make my actions excusable, but I think"-she paused and twisted her ponytail
through her fingers-"I think I was jealous of you."

Laurell's jaw dropped. "Of me? Why?"

"Well, first off, you're a natural witch, and I've had to
work long and hard to learn my craft."

"I assume you realize now that I've had to work hard,
too," Laurell responded.

Fiona nodded vigorously. "Yes. I do. I also think I blamed
you for my sister's death. I know that part doesn't make any
sense.

Laurell sighed. What does make sense when you're talking about the death of a loved one? I blamed my own mother
for her death. Even if she had killed herself, that would have
meant Elaine was ill. Could she really be blamed for something done when she was unwell? Laurell shoved these
thoughts away for another day.

"And then," Fiona continued, "I thought Reese liked
you, and that was driving me crazy." Fiona's face flushed at
this admission.

"I can assure you, he isn't interested in me. Nor am I interested in him for anything beyond friendship," Laurell
said.

"I know that now. He's a flirt. He's always been a flirt. I've
been acting crazy and not like myself." Fiona's voice wavered.

Laurell touched her hand and offered a reassuring smile.
"It's okay. Men make us act crazy sometimes."

Laurell grimaced, thinking of how she'd been avoiding
Axiom since their lovemaking several nights before. He'd arrived in the kitchen once at the same time she did, and she'd
darted around the corner before he saw her. As silly as she
knew the behavior was, she was afraid to spend time with him, terrified he'd look at her with those sultry, sexy eyes,
and she'd jump him on the spot. She had to snap out of this.
There was no use getting more involved with him than she
already was. She had to control her raging hormones.

Fiona rose and hovered by Laurell's chair. "Are we okay,
then?"

"Sure," Laurell agreed. Fiona bent and engulfed her in a
lavender-infused hug. When she pulled away, Laurell
halted her with a hand on one arm.

"When are you going to tell Reese?" she asked.

Fiona sighed and opened her mouth to speak, but before
she could, a male voice broke in. "Tell Reese what?"

Both women spun around to see Reese's tall, slim frame
filling the doorway, blond hair swinging around his shoulders, mouth curled in a sexy smile.

Fiona's quick recovery impressed Laurell. "That you'd
better get some cake before it's gone," Fiona said before she
hurried from the table to the kitchen. Reese followed, but
not before flashing Laurell a quizzical look, to which she
simply shrugged in response. She wasn't getting in the middle of this one.

Dawna dropped to the ground and settled onto her blanket.
It was nearing dinnertime, and she could smell the lasagna
Fiona had just pulled from the oven. It was Lynn's night to
cook. The woman made one mean lasagna. The others were
making their way to the main house. She'd join them soon,
but at the moment, she just wanted to enjoy the night and
some quiet. Chill air caressed her skin and threatened to find
a way into her thick, wool jacket. Dawna pulled it tighter
and lifted her eyes to the sky-inky black and dotted with
diamonds.

A flash of movement at her side and a rrronk signaled the
arrival of her familiar. Poe swooped down and settled on
the ground beside her. He hopped close and tilted his head
up, staring at her.

Dawna held her hand out and the bird rubbed his head
in her palm. Hello, my friend. What have you been up to?

Food, he responded.

Ah, well, what else is new? Dawna scratched Poe's neck.

Must leave. Not safe here. She frowned at Poe's warning.
She was quite certain she was not imagining it.

What do you mean? she pressed.

Circle not safe. Umbrae will find you here. Poe fluttered his
blue-black wings and wobbled back and forth on his little
legs. If a bird could look agitated, this one did.

Do they already know we're here? she asked, her chest constricting with worry and her heartbeat speeding up.

Not yet. Soon.

Dawna's mouth twisted. She'd often gone to her familiar
for advice in the past. The bird had an ability to connect with
the unseen world that she did not possess. So far, he had
always been right. She didn't like this. Not one bit. She
scratched him beneath his bill and noticed his little piece of
string was missing again.

Let's get you a new tie. Looks like you lost yours yet again.
Maybe a new color? How does green sound? It's very Yule. The
holiday was just around the corner.

Poe hopped onto her arm, and she rose and headed to
her cabin, intending to talk to Fiona about Poe's message
the first chance she got.

She was avoiding him. Of this, Axiom had no doubt. For
the past week Laurell had all but run away whenever they
crossed paths. She was not behaving in an adversarial
manner, no, but some excuse always surfaced for why she
could not remain in his presence. Either she had training
with Fiona, or the child was making her hungry, or she
needed a nap.

Always, an excuse. He was fairly certain she had been in
the kitchen the other day, but when he had turned the corner, she was gone. Her familiar vanilla scent, however, had
still clung to the air and made him ache.

He did not like it, this strange sensation in his chest. A
painful hollowness had sprung up inside of him. When he
breathed in, he could not achieve a full breath. And the
nights. The nights were unbearable. He could think of nothing but Laurell. Of her touch, her scent, her taste. The entire
situation was unacceptable.