Chapter 20
LORDE
Ididn’t know how long I sat on that beach, watching the waves rolling in.
At first, I tried not to think of anything, to force my mind to go blank, but it didn’t last. My thoughts kept drifting to the stories I was compelled to listen to when a child, to Max, and to what my aunt had said.
I no longer knew what was right and wrong, what was truth and fiction.
Yes, I could look at that collection of drivel the Grimm duo put together, and beyond a shadow of a doubt, everything was fiction.
Yes, there might be a grain of truth, the infinitesimal thread that connected make-believe to reality, but for the most part, the tales were nothing except fantastical creations made up in the imaginations of individuals.
Discerning that one was easy, but real life, my life, I could no longer discern top from bottom. I was drowning on dry land.
If I were smart, I wouldn’t think about any of this. I would do what I came here to do and then run away. Once Max was gone, my mother would no longer have a need for me.
I sucked in a breath and held it. Bugger! I thought about that again. My mother would no longer have a need for me. Why did my mother need me to kill him? Why couldn’t she do it herself? Was I overthinking this?
I tried to remember what she said to me when I was younger. “Lorde, this is your destiny, your purpose. No one else can do this because it is what you were born for.” No one else?
There was only one person I could talk to, but did I dare? Could I trust Pat? I still wasn’t certain. “Bollocks! Why?” I cried out to the sky and the water, hoping they might give me the answers I sought, knowing they wouldn’t.
Then, majestically, a large white bird glided down from the sky, drifting lower and lower as it made multiple passes in front of me.
Soon, with its wings flapping, it landed gracefully and dunked its head under the water, popping up a second later.
A swan. Snow white feathers, a long regal neck, and a black mask and nob above an orange beak.
Max. I wasn’t sure how I knew or why I was so confident, but I was. This was Max.
He shook his body, droplets scattering around him. The water had to be frigid considering the temperatures had been hovering in and around the forties since I’d arrived. Bloody Americans and their Fahrenheit. Granted, I was one too, but I’d been in England so long, I was more at home using Celsius.
The bird floated closer to the shoreline, staring at me.
Should I call out? If I did, how would he react?
What would this man do when he found out why I’d been sent here in the first place?
I rubbed the ache in my chest, thinking about his reaction.
I was going to lose him. One way or another, I was going to lose the man I’d come to love.
Less than a week and I’d already fallen under his spell.
No. It all happened in an instant. His eyes pulled me in, and when I saw him in person, everything clicked into place.
He was my other half. I fought it, wishing to please my mother, but I couldn’t resist any longer.
I could no more kill this man than cut off my own arm.
Max’s gaze shifted to somewhere over my shoulder, and I heard the faint sound of someone walking toward me, stomping on the grass growing on the dune I sat upon. Without looking, I said, “Aunt Pat.”
“I thought I might find you here.” She sat down next to me, keeping her gaze on the water and the swan. “Hello, Max.”
Max lifted his wings, flapping them as he honked. Turning, he moved his wings more, and soon it appeared he was running on the water, gaining altitude, and then he was gone.
“Brilliant. Why did you do that?” I spat.
“He was going to figure it out sooner or later.”
“And if he decides to ban me from his life now?”
“Does it matter? You’re here to do a job, right?”
“No!” I yelled, my hands bunched into fists. I dragged my knees up and rested my forehead against them. In a quieter voice, I repeated, “No.”
“No? I thought?—”
“You are incorrect.”
“Lorde…” she stopped.
“What?” I pressed.
“I’m going to tell you a story. I want you to listen and not interrupt.”
Under my breath, I said a simple protection spell just in case she tried something.
Although her magic was stronger, and she had more spells in her repertoire, it would offer a small level of protection against anything she might throw at me, at least temporarily.
Turning my head, I peeked at her from under my elbow. “Okay.” I saw her small smile.
“When I was born, I was the throw-away. My mother already had your mother and Virginia, she didn’t need me, but she still taught me the basics of magic.
I annoyed her more often than not. Most days, she spent her time with Virginia and Kelly, leaving me to teach myself.
I was left for hours in the library. In one of the books, I found a potion that, when drunk, would give me the ability to learn faster and retain more.
Basically, it was supposed to give me a photographic memory with the bonus that it would allow me to understand things I didn’t before.
I had to wait until I knew Mom would be out of the house for a while.
I wasn’t allowed to use the kitchen, and sure as hell wasn’t allowed to use any of her special herbs or jars.
I did it anyway. It tasted horrendous, and instead of making me smart, I don’t think I’ve ever vomited that much before or since. ”
“Ew,” I gagged.
“You’re telling me. I was the one to experience it.”
“Did it make you smarter?”
She shook her head. “No. My dad helped me clean everything up and made it appear as though I’d done nothing wrong.
He even put me to bed and nursed me back to health.
My mother didn’t care I was sick. Sometimes, I wonder how she would have acted had I been on my deathbed.
In my heart, I believe she couldn’t have cared less.
Like I said, I was the throwaway. Dad was a linguist. He used to work with me, teaching me what he could about languages.
About seven years after my debacle with the potion, Dad passed away, and I found myself in the library.
Mom had taken Virginia and Kelly on a trip to Germany to meet with someone.
Instead of going to the funeral, they boarded a plane an hour before.
And don’t think they couldn’t change their tickets because they’d been purchased in advance, it wouldn’t be true.
They bought them, the day after Dad died.
To them, he may have been nothing except a sperm donor, but to me, he was my world.
I was crushed. There weren’t many at the funeral, only about thirty or so, but they all had a wonderful tale to share about my father.
And when the service ended, I returned to an empty house alone.
It was my job, according to my mother, to box up all of his clothes and possessions and either toss or donate them. ”
“What a twat,” I snapped.
“She was,” Pat snickered, but I didn’t hear any humor in her voice.
“What did you do?”
Clearing her throat, Pat answered, “I went through all of his belongings eventually. I couldn’t do it on the day of the funeral, though. It was more than a sixteen-year-old girl should be expected to do.”
Sixteen? I shook my head, unsure of what to say and at a complete loss for words.
“The day of the funeral, I found myself back in the library. After my dad had taught me a lot of what he knew, my understanding of the grimoires and other books surpassed that of Virginia and Kelly, although my mom never found out. My ability and power exceeded what they had, tenfold. Again, no one realized this except my father, and he kept it a secret. He didn’t want my mother to decide I could be of use and suddenly focus on me.
For the most part, she left me alone.” She smiled wistfully.
“When she did bother to pay me any attention, I acted like a bumbling idiot who could barely do magic 101. Between Kelly and Virginia, Kelly was stronger and thus put in charge. It was up to her to find a husband and produce a daughter who would?—”
“Take over the world?” I interrupted, biting my lip when she glared at me. “Apologies.”
“You’re not completely wrong. Kelly met your father at a bar. She got him drunk, cast a love spell, and they were married shortly after.”
“A love spell?” I choked out. Sure, I’d often wondered why my father stayed with my mother, but I never imagined she would be that devious. I should have known better.