The Blue Woods (6 page)

“But Dad had to have known that they would find me here, too. The Waterfall in the woods behind our house—that's the site of magic we're protecting. He knew about it; he used to take me there. Why did you come back here to Twin Willows if you knew they were here, too?”

Lidia closed her eyes. Now the tears did spill over, staining her cheeks. “Because he didn't agree with me,” she said, so low that I had to lean in to hear her. “Because he knew that you would be a great Walker. That you would be a hero. He did not believe that you could escape that destiny, no matter where we were.”

God, that word,
destiny
. I could never escape it, no matter how hard I tried. “So I've just been fulfilling some master plan all along?” I pushed myself up to my feet and paced the length of the couch. “You all knew that I was going to be a Benandante someday, didn't you?”

“Alessia, I never wanted this for you. I had hoped it would never come to this, or if it did, that you would make the same choice I did. That you would refuse.”

I whirled to a stop in front of Lidia. “The
coward's
choice?”

She winced. A stab of guilt pierced my gut, but I was too angry to really feel its pain. “How long have you suspected that I was a Benandante?”

“I . . . I don't know . . . maybe a couple of months . . .”

“A couple of
months
?” I tore my hands through my hair. “And you didn't say anything to me?”

“I knew that you would not be allowed to talk—”

“But I could've talked to you!” I flung my arm in the direction of the living room. “Jenny's known her dad was a Benandante since she was twelve. Barb knows. Dad obviously knew about his parents. It seems like I was the only one in the Clan following the rules, and I was the one who most needed to break them.” I couldn't breathe; the anger and frustration were like bands across my ribs.

“
Cara . . .
”

“Don't
cara
me! I
needed
you and I was so afraid to say anything, afraid for your safety. And now I find out you knew all along.” I was surprised to taste salted tears in my mouth; I hadn't realized I'd started crying. “If you had come to me, I would've told you everything.”

Lidia looked up at me, her face a bottomless pit of grief. “I didn't want to believe it was true. It was easier to think it wasn't . . .”

“Yeah, easier for you.” My legs felt so rubbery, I was in danger of collapsing on the rug. “My whole life, you've overprotected me. God, you wouldn't even let me go to Paris on a school trip. And the one time when it would've been really great to have you be overly involved, you stepped back.”

Lidia hunched over and buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with the force of her crying. I stood in the center of the rug, my chest heaving with every emotion that coursed through me. The only other time I'd seen her cry like this was when my dad had died. That time, we had curled up together, comforting each other's grief. This time, I couldn't stand the thought of touching her. “Did Dad really die of a heart attack?” I asked. My words landed like barbs, and she flinched. “Or was he killed by the Malandanti?”

She raised her face from her hands, her eyes a swollen red mess. “No. I swear, Alessia. He really did die of a heart attack.”

I breathed in sharp through my nose. “How do I know you're telling the truth? You've been lying to me
my whole life
.”

“Alessia, everything I have done, I did to protect you. To keep you safe.” She rubbed her face. “And every step of the way, I have been blocked by
that woman
,” she said, jabbing her finger in the direction of the living room.

“Oh, don't blame Nerina, Mom! You know it's not her fault.” I shook my head. “The only person you have to blame is yourself. For refusing the Call in the first place. Because if you hadn't, I never would have been Called.”

“If I hadn't, you never would have been born,” Lidia shot back. She stiffened her shoulders. “We choose our own destiny, yes, but there are some things that just can't be stopped . . .”

“Stop saying ‘destiny'!” I balled my hands into fists and dug my nails deep into my palms. “Destiny doesn't matter. What matters is that you knew what was going on and you did nothing to help me. What matters is that at the moment I needed my mom the most, you refused to be there.”

“Alessia . . .” Lidia stretched her arms out, reaching for me, but I backed up all the way to the door.

“Don't, Mom. Just don't.” I collided with the soft padding on the door and felt for the handle. “Dad would've been there for me. The minute he suspected I'd been Called, he would've been there.”

“That's not fair.” Lidia stood up. A flush crept up her neck. “I did what I thought was right.”

I flung open the door so hard it slammed against the wall. My existence in this town,
my entire life
, had been built on a lie. “The problem is,” I told her, my voice shaking, “that you couldn't have been more wrong.”

I'd Give Anything for a Ritz-Carlton Right about Now

Bree

When Alessia came back into the living room, she looked like she'd been punched in the soul. Lidia trailed behind, her hair and face looking like something a cat coughed up. Without looking at anyone, she veered off into the kitchen. Alessia collapsed onto the couch so hard it made my ribs ache. “Jesus,” I said. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Alessia muttered, shooting a death-ray glance at Nerina. “What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Nerina said quickly. Whatever Shakespearean plot twist had happened between Alessia and her mom, I guessed that Nerina had more than a supporting role. “We were just about to break up and get settled in here.”

I stretched my arms overhead, my chest prickling with pain. “Well, I need a cigarette,” I announced. “Alessia, will you help me outside?”

“You are not allowed in my room smelling like smoke,” Jenny said. “I'm not going to die from secondhand smoke because of you.”

I rolled my head to the side to glare at her. “Oh, for Chrissake,” I hissed. “I need to talk to Alessia alone and I was trying not to be obvious. Happy?”

That, at least, put a shadow of a smile on Alessia's face. I leaned into her as we hobbled to the front door. “This is going to be the most not-fun slumber party in the history of slumber parties,” I muttered. I glanced into the kitchen as we passed. Lidia was at the stove, stirring something in a big pot over a low flame. It smelled like tomato sauce. Really delicious, homemade tomato sauce. Lidia looked up, her eyes big as a doll's, but Alessia squared her shoulders and pulled open the front door.

Outside, the cold slapped me across the face. Should've grabbed my coat on the way out. I propped myself up against the side of the house. “So what the hell was that all about?”

Alessia sighed and dropped to sit on the steps. “Apparently my mother has been lying to me my entire life.”

“Join the club,” I said. “I can't remember a time when I didn't feel like my parents were keeping something from me.”

“Yeah, well, some of us aren't used to that.” Alessia looked at the patch of bare trees that filled the space between the house and the street. “My grandparents were Benandanti. They didn't die in an accident like I thought. They died in battle when I was a baby. Oh, and that wasn't the reason my parents moved back here from Italy. They moved back here before that because my mom wanted to get me away from Nerina.”

“How did your mom know Nerina? Italy isn't that small.”

“I guess Friuli is,” Alessia said. She blew out a breath, making a loose strand of hair dance across her face. “Nerina Called my mom when she was my age. My mom's a Refuser.”

“Really?” I gazed at the sky. “It's nice to know I'm not the only one.”

“Well, I'm glad you're happy to hear it.” Alessia shook her head. “She says she's known for months that I'm a Benandante. But she never said anything. What the hell kind of parenting is that?”

“The crappy kind,” I said. “I can't believe Nerina didn't tell you this.”

“Well, it wasn't her place to tell me,” Alessia said. “And actually, that doesn't surprise me at all. I mean, Nerina keeps a lot of stuff from us. I think she truly enjoys knowing things the rest of us don't.”

If Nerina was a nail, Alessia had just hit her on the head. “That's for damn sure,” I said. I moved to sit next to Alessia, every joint and muscle creaking. “In the car on the way over here, she told me that the Malandanti can't fight each other. Their auras prevent it. I'd never read that in any of the books—and I went
deep
into those books. If it had been in there, I would've known.”

“So do you think she's lying?”

“No.” I flexed my fingers. All my nails were chipped and broken. The Rabbit owed me a manicure, among many other things. “I think it's probably true, but for some reason she didn't want that to be common knowledge. After all,” I cocked my head, “who do you think wrote those books to begin with?”

“The
Concilio
,” Alessia answered. “Maybe not her specifically . . .”

“. . . but her people at least.” The cold concrete made me feel like I was sitting on a block of ice. I shifted so that I was on the doormat, leaving enough space for Alessia to settle next to me. “I definitely think she's hiding something, though. Something else. Something big that maybe she
really
doesn't want us to know.”

“She
freaked
out when Jonah and I were talking to each other,” Alessia said. Her eyes looked far away, like she was seeing that room again, that room that I hoped neither of us would ever go back to. “And it wasn't just a Benandanti versus Malandanti thing. It went . . . deeper than that.”

“She told me that I had to get the whole idea of turning a Malandante into a Benandante out of my head,” I said slowly, bringing the conversation back into my mind. “She said it was impossible and that I had to forget it.”

“Well . . .” Alessia watched a lone bird spiraling in the sky. “In order to do it, someone from my Clan has to die. I'd like to think that's impossible, too.”

“I know, I know.” I pressed my palms to my thighs. “But he's my brother. I have to keep looking.”

Alessia nodded. “Oh—something else. It was pretty obvious that she and the Harpy knew each other. It didn't hit me at the time, because I figured that they've both been around for so long it would be odd if they
didn't
know each other.”

A memory slammed back into me. When I was trapped in that room, the Harpy had stood in the corner and laughed while the Rabbit tortured me. I didn't remember most of what she'd said in those long hours; it was gone in the haze of pain and horrifying hallucinations the Rabbit had made me see. But one thing I did remember.
She'll pay for what she did to us,
the Harpy had cackled.
The little Lioness will pay.

“She's made such a big deal about us knowing each other's identities,” Alessia went on, interrupting my thoughts. “Something doesn't add up.”

I shoved the memories aside and knocked my knee against Alessia's. “I'm gonna get to the bottom of this. With all of us living under one roof, someone is bound to let something slip. And I am nothing if not sneaky.” I put my hand out. “Now help me up. I'm fricking freezing out here.”

Jenny's room had an actual bunk bed in it. Apparently her parents thought they'd have another kid someday but either nature or someone's nerve had failed. Alessia climbed to the top bunk. “Jenny hates heights,” she explained. “Obviously I don't mind them.” She dumped the contents of her bag out onto the bed. We'd gone back to her house and I'd done a masking spell while she and her mom ran all over the place, throwing crap into bags to bring back to Jenny's. And the whole time, they hadn't spoken to each other. I'd sat between them in the truck on the way over, collateral damage in their battle of icy glares. That was a barrel of laughs, let me tell you.

I'd managed to get back to my own house too. I'd done the masking spell, but the house had been empty. Dad was still in Boston, being interviewed by the feds. And shockingly, my mom hadn't been laid up in bed with a bottle of prescription drugs next to her. She hadn't been there at all. I had no idea where she was, but considering how concerned she'd been when I was missing, I decided not to lose sleep over it.

I flopped onto the air mattress that Jeff had set up. “I guess it'll have to do,” I said and eyed the bottom bunk. “Although maybe I should take the bed. You know, since I'm injured and all.”