Chapter 4
Chapter Four
L ast night I’d warmed Tony’s dinner and kept him entertained with talk about Mom inheriting my great-grandmother’s farm. Dad had been livid when Mom refused to sell it.
One of the worst fights I recalled my parents having was when Mom insisted on keeping our dual citizenship after we moved to the US because of my father’s work. I learned about it because the argument kept getting rehashed every few years. Mom and I were joint citizens of both Ireland and the United States. Both of us had been born here and lived here, whether or not I remembered.
I possessed no memories of my childhood in Ireland. From birth to three was only a story my mother told me. It was a time my father refused to discuss at all after she was gone. We’d visited here as a family a short time before Dad put Mom in prison.
My parents had been happy and loving on the way home. I thought everything was fine. Then one morning a few days later Dad took Mom away. I never even got to say goodbye to her. Worse, I let my questions about Mom go for a long time because I heard Dad crying through his bedroom door that same evening.
His grief—or regret—had made me feel sorry for him. It also made me believe everything he said about Mom was true. When you’re thirteen, you don’t always see things as they are. You see them only for how they affect your selfish teenage life.
No matter how often I asked, Dad never let me travel to Ireland until my second year of high school. Grandpa O’Malley had died before Mom went to prison, so Gigi left the States after Mom got sent away.
But eventually, Dad gave in to my pleas and paid for me to fly here to spend two weeks during the summers. Gigi’s front porch was the Ireland I knew best. Her house was my favorite vacation spot. It also became the only place where I could escape my broken family situation long enough to think my own thoughts.
My grandmother never said a harsh word against Dad back then. Now, of course, I knew why. Dad threatened to keep me away from her completely if she told me anything about witches, magick, or Mom. Gigi had honored whatever promises she’d made. I wish now that she’d not done so.
Dad hated coming to Ireland so he never came with me when I visited. I knew that for certain because he told me so over and over.
I grew up with him telling me he didn’t think Mom tried hard enough to enjoy living in Salem. When they argued, Mom always said, “Jack, Salem is a place where they burned their witches. How can ya ask me to live happily in such a place?”
Dad would tell Mom she was an herbalist who made potions in her backyard. He outright denied she was a witch. I figured that’s why she never said anything to him about inheriting Conn.
Yet I grew up knowing about him and somehow also knowing I could say nothing to my father. I liked Conn a lot so I kept that secret without thinking it odd at the time.
During the time Mom lived with us, Conn slept in doggie form on my bed every night. After Mom went away, Conn disappeared too. I found him later at Gigi’s house. He mostly ran around in dog form there. He explained why he left but by then I’d figured it out on my own. I’d had two years without Mom or him being around.
On one visit to see Mom when I was fifteen, she explained the ruse Dad had used to put her into prison. I didn’t accept that he could do that to her. I figured she was bitter about her fate. I’d listened with my ears instead of my heart.
How could I be expected to discern the truth back then? I was thirteen when she got taken away and fifteen when she finally explained why. I was still carrying around a bunch of her secrets and they had gotten heavier every year she was gone.
In their many arguments about witches, Dad would always point out that the US wasn’t the only country in the world where magick practitioners were murdered for practicing their craft. Most countries punished their midwives and doctors when they fell out of favor by declaring them to be witches.
Few humans ever defended magickals of any sort—real or not.
Dad reminded Mom the persecution of witches had been going on for many generations. Why was she still complaining?
He urged her to let it go and get over herself.
I became sincerely fascinated with Mom’s powers right before I graduated high school. She’d planned to exit the demon hunter’s prison the day I graduated. She didn’t, though, and I still didn’t understand why.
Something had changed her mind.
She’d tried to explain it to me but I hadn’t been able to hear it. All I could think was that she’d broken her promise to leave and let me down.
The effect of Mom’s decision to stay in prison sent me off to college believing my father was right about her. It was a small jump to believe him when he said I had none of her magick. I believed then nothing magickal at all moved within me. Wouldn’t I have felt it? It was easy to keep on believing my father’s words as I grew up.
Dad’s recent bad behavior managed to destroy the trust I’d given him during those years. I lost all my illusions about him when he hired a demon to put them into a coma. His betrayal opened my eyes to see the magick in those around me. Gigi. Mom. Conn. Rasmus. Mulan. I lived among powerful magickals now and felt completely at home.
Maybe part of me thought their magick would rub off on me eventually. Perhaps that was a stupid thing to be thinking but I could be stupid sometimes. I could still think the way a neglected child does when they hope for things even though it's hopeless.
What did I know anyway? Look how wrong I’d been about both my parents. Mom wasn’t a criminal like I believed, and Dad was a manipulative liar.
Looking back, I suspected Dad had nurtured a terminal case of sour grapes over not being able to get control of Mom’s powers. He had worked very hard to stifle my magick and wildly succeeded.
If Dad could see me this morning, hanging out with an angel tasked with training me, he’d for sure scoff. He would also tell Tony how wrong he was to think I could be any sort of magickal protector.
Of course, Dad would also try to capture Tony and do experiments on him to find out if angel power could be scientifically transferred to normal people via a blood transfusion or something.
I had to admit that I questioned Dad’s motivations as much as Mom did now.
But still...
A part of me feared he was right because my magick hadn’t shown up yet. Mom said Dad might have blocked it somehow. We never had time to investigate her theory before she ended up fighting the female guardian. And I ended up in Ireland wearing the second of King Solomon’s rings on my finger.
I could hear her in my head. “It’s do or die time, Fiona. Buck up, girl. Ya got this.”
Then she’d snicker with my trainer over every one of my failures because she had the worst sense of humor of anyone on the planet.
“Are you done staring off into nothing? Can we get back to doing something productive now?”
I turned to glare at Tony. My clothes were covered in green stains where the angel had lifted me with his magick and tossed me across the grass multiple times. I felt I was doing well because so far I’d gotten back up each time and had broken no bones. I’d be incredibly sore tomorrow, but Gigi had plenty of aspirin.
“What do you want me to do, Tony? The ring hates you. It doesn’t even think you’re worth responding to,” I said without my usual snark. “It says you’ve fallen from grace, whatever that means. Honestly, I’m ready to chuck the ring into Gigi’s cow pond.”
The ring cannot be removed from your hand except by death or dismemberment. You must trust in your magick, and in why you, of all other worthy creatures on this planet, were selected to be our protector. You must grow up sooner than you wish. We cannot change this portion of your fate. It is for the greater good of all.
“Nag. Nag. Nag. Even my mother is not as bad as you are,” I said to it as I glared at my hand. I’m sure I looked as stupid talking to my hand as I imagined I did.
Tony shook his head. “You have to learn to stop me from using my magick. Exert your will and hold your ground. Be firm with the ring. Make it help you the way it helped Jedidiah of Judah. It’s supposed to do your bidding. This is why I came, Fiona. This is my job.”
“Who is Jedidiah? I thought it belonged to King Solomon.”
“Jedidiah was his birth name—Jedidiah of Judah, which was the tribe he descended from. A Hebrew prophet named him Shlomo which got translated into Solomon .”
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t realize he had other names. Were you there when he was made a king?”
“No. I was in prison. The creators don’t call it that, but that’s what I called it. Taking this job got me out of prison. Your mother and I were both punished for using our powers. I admire how she handled her incarceration. Of course, she had a child motivating her. I had only my weakness for humans to blame.”
“What do you mean?”
“My life before we met is nothing you need to be concerned about. I have come here to serve the ring’s need to train you. There is no other reason. You can ask the ring to verify my words if you like since the two of you are on speaking terms.”
I stared down at the red stone set in beautiful filigree silver. It hadn’t changed form or appearance since it gave up looking like a man’s ring with its gray granite stone. It had changed on the plane trip and kept its more feminine appearance. “Is Tony right?”
We do not acknowledge him or his motivations. He has fallen from grace. The creators were wrong to use him for this task. We have always thought so.
It was the same thing it told me every time I asked it questions about Tony. Sometimes when I asked, the ring didn’t answer at all. I didn’t understand the sentient artifact any more than Mom had when she’d worn it.
And I’d already picked Gigi’s brain. She said Grandpa O’Malley was as mute as it was humanly possible to be about the ring, even though it stayed on his hand until the day he died. She blamed the ring for them hiding Mom’s destiny from her as long as they had. Its presence had complicated things.
The irony of Dad following their example of keeping magickal secrets hadn’t been lost on me. My mother, possibly because she still resented having been kept in the dark by her parents, was an open book about magick, especially when I asked questions. Her explanations, while always accompanied by ethical lessons and warnings, were honest and never shied away from the truth, even the tough parts.
“If you don’t help me, the angel is going to hurt me. I could even die. Tell me how to access my magick.”
You are a tedious child.
“I am not a child.”
Yes, you are, but we choose to see your immaturity as an asset. Your familial predecessor was too closed-minded about us. And about the world. You are not... at least, not yet.
“You keep saying ‘we’ every time you talk about yourself. How many of you are in there?”
We are a legion of worthy beings. We are a multitude of magickal hosts. We are a horde of fierce warriors dedicated to saving the people living on your pathetic planet.
“I see. So you’re admitting that you’re a bunch of aliens.” I stared at the ring, which had gone silent. “Well? Am I right?”
Your time in the fallen one’s company has been to your detriment. Banish him and be done with his kind.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said to my hand. “By the way, just exactly what is his kind?”
They are unworthy of being named. No amount of recompense can change that. No amount of good can wipe out the harm done by those like him. He does not regret his actions. Grace is not for him and his kind.
I shook my head and dropped my hand. Every conversation I had with the ring made me resent my responsibility to it. I found the powerful artifact to be contrary and bossy. It didn’t help that I had Tony yelling at me in the real world and the ring lecturing me in my head.
If this was all there was ever going to be to my magickal destiny, I didn’t want any of it.
“Pay attention, Fiona!” Tony said, blasting at the ground near my feet.
I jumped back and screamed at the dirt explosion. Then I glared at him. “You could have seriously hurt me.”
“Then do something. Next time I won’t miss.”
Fine. Tell him to attack again.
I drew in a deep breath. If I didn’t learn to trust the ring, I would end up hating it.
“Attack me again,” I said, matching my trainer glare for glare.
The blast came straight at my chest. I shouted a word that I didn’t even know I knew. The energy of the word materialized in front of me and became a rubberized force field that sent the blast back at Tony, hitting him in the chest.
He lifted from the ground and his body flew back twenty feet.
“Holy shit! What did you do to him?” I called to the ring as I ran to where Tony lay on the ground.
He is mostly unharmed. We are forbidden to take his life. If we could, he would have been dead long ago.
“Jesus Christ,” I yelled, skidding to a stop beside Tony’s groaning form.
The Great Teacher did not like his kind either. Why do you call his name?
Ignoring the snarky ring’s response to my swearing, I dropped to my knees beside him. Tony was groaning and laughing at the same time. “Tony? TONY? Are you okay?”
“I must have slept with their daughters in some forgotten time. That’s the only reason they could hate me this much. I’ve done nothing to deserve their contempt in the last few millennia.”
Disgusted, I pushed on his arm and rolled him to his side. “Pervert. Is everything about sex to you?”
He chuckled as he struggled to sit up. “IF I committed any perversions—and that’s a big IF—it happened several millennia ago, not yesterday. I’ve been celibate for a long time now, even in Earth years.”
“I don’t believe you,” I said, climbing to my feet.
Tony reached out a hand. “I’m not asking you to. Help me up.”
Stupid me. I did as he asked and held out my hand to him, but not the one with the ring on it. Was I protecting him from the ring’s wrath? Or protecting the ring from physical contact with him?
Tony rose to his feet and I found myself pressed against him. Evidence of his arousal pressed into the juncture of my thighs and drew a shocked gasp from me.
Laughter left his lips nano-seconds before his head dipped to slide his lips over mine. Electricity—or maybe it was magick—sparked in our kiss. We both drew back and stared at each other in shock. I could see in his gaze that he was just as surprised by that spark as I had been.
Before I could say a word or ask questions, I was locked against him while he kissed me like I was the only woman he’d ever known. My hands wanted to climb up into all that blonde hair of his. I held them out and away from his body to keep from touching him the way I wanted.
Eventually, I brought my hands forward and pushed on his chest to escape his mouth. He laughed into my kiss and slid his tongue into my mouth.
I collapsed against him, my legs weak and trembling.
He groaned into my mouth as his hand slid up into my hair to hold me in place.
Good Goddess, why was he torturing me?
Zap him, I ordered.
The ring finally obeyed my command. Tony flew away from me and ended up on the ground several feet away.
Relieved to be free of temptation at last, I stood there breathing hard. That wanting between us was nothing I’d experienced before in any other relationship. I wasn’t ready for it. It felt too much like what Mom said she initially felt for Dad, which she’d described as an all-encompassing passion that robbed her of common sense.
Well, I was stronger than my mother when it came to men. Don’t care enough to let them make you miserable. That was my motto.
I especially would not jump into bed with a freaking fallen angel. What if he got me pregnant? What if I had one of those monster children mentioned in religious literature around the world?
Even worse, what if I liked having sex with him and no other man would ever compare? A shiver shook me. I pushed my hands into my hair and groaned in irritation at acting so stupid around him. I didn’t want to think stupid thoughts, either.
“What in effing bloody hell is that supposed to accomplish?” I demanded from my now safe distance.
Tony groaned, laughed, and then sat up again. “It was supposed to be me goading you into getting mad again. I thought it would ease the chemistry between us and make you tap into that fire that I instinctively knew you had and were avoiding. Instead, our kiss turned into a bit more than I intended. Your kiss packs quite the punch. Of course, it has been a few centuries for me. Celibacy is not fun.”
Even though I was only a couple of decades old, it felt like it had been centuries for me as well. I’d been too traumatized to date. That happens when your father turns your boyfriends into testosterone monsters.
“You need to stop doing whatever that was. I don’t want to hurt you, Tony, but the ring wants you dead. It said it couldn’t kill you outright but I think it would gladly help me cause you some serious damage. And I will ask it to do that if you try that shit again.”
“Hmm... that sounds like a challenge. Would you seriously hurt me simply because I kissed you too well?”
“Try to kiss me again without my permission and we’ll both learn the answer. Training is over for today. I’m going to go clean up. Gigi said dinner would be in an hour. Don’t be rude and leave again. She deserves better than that.”
“As you wish,” Tony said from his seat on the ground.
I felt his eyes on me for my whole walk back to the house. It was going to be incredibly hard to sleep tonight. I hoped he would suffer as well.
But none of that helped me avoid a very uncomfortable truth. If the fallen angel had been anyone except the being tied to the ring, I’d have gone to his bed without a single thought of denying either of us.
I couldn’t imagine Mom encouraging me to sample Tony as a paranormal lover, even if she had suggested I sample as many as I wanted. In fact, Mom had sort of recommended sampling men until I found one that I was a hundred percent sure I could trust enough to marry. She said she had blindly loved Dad and never once questioned his intentions toward her. She didn’t want to see me join my life to the wrong person as she now judged Dad to have been for her.
I shook my head. “No, Fiona. Just no. The angel is as off-limits as Murray. He’s not even as nice as the fairy. He’s nearly one of the bad guys. Let this neediness thing go.”
I said the words aloud and heard them with my ears, but some parts of my body refused to accept my decision. They kept reliving the moment of being pressed against him when our lips sparked magickly.
Damn it. It was going to be a long time before I forgot how well our bodies fit together when he kissed me.