35. Daddy Dearest
DADDY DEAREST
Grammy’s plan is not nearly as foolhardy as it first sounded. I didn’t expect it to be. Not to say the elder witch isn’t above taking a calculated risk, but unlike Starla’s father, her grandmother would never gamble with her life for selfish reasons.
She relies on her visions, and she confirmed that her prediction that Starla would need some closure with her father was the correct way to approach things.
Which is why, with the sun long ago set, Starla and I are walking our jet-lagged selves onto the darkened beach behind her bar.
Grammy had her witches come over from Bald Head and do a bit of poking around, and she confirmed that humans were already being kept away from the area through magical means.
Councilman Taylor may have no compunctions about coming after his daughter, and he may think he’s a big enough fish to keep the government off his back in that area, but he’s not going to announce his presence to the world at large and force their hand, either.
“Saves us work,” Grammy had said—work on how they would conceal and sneak a host of backup into areas around the perimeter, where they could look for the extra individuals Councilman Taylor himself would surely bring.
Two groups trying to out-sneak and outsmart the other. What could go wrong?
Just before we began our walk onto the beach, Jackal pulled me in for a kiss so passionate it had my toes practically curling.
I try to think of that, focusing on the feel of his lips and the comforting swish of the waves, as we approach the councilman.
When my breath speeds up anyway, I remind myself that we have a wave of support behind us. An impressive lineup of individuals who have shown up in our favor, should we need them. I still think it would be better if we don't. I just have to make it to the water.
Starla warned me her father strikes fast, and we’ll need to catch him off guard. Sprinting for the waves might be what I want to do, but I’ll take her word for it that the action would end up with me taking a lightning bolt straight to the heart.
He has to think he’s winning, to be lulled into distraction. He’s too suspicious to let down his guard entirely, but we only need a moment. Just a single opening.
Even in the darkness, I can tell a storm is moving in. The clouds are covering the stars, and the air has the scent of rain.
The first few droplets start to fall as we reach Councilman Taylor, who has a man standing on each side of him.
Claude and Piers.
We’ll have to get by them as well, but I see Councilman Taylor as the largest threat.
Droplets land on Starla face, looking like teardrops.
We’re back in our Carolina Beach best, meaning jeans and off-the shoulder sweaters paired with flip flops. Beach winter chic. Councilman Taylor’s lip curls upward, displaying what he thinks of our fashion choices.
“If it isn’t my bride. Cold feet, dearest?” Claude shouts at me.
He’s grinning, but his eyes flicker dangerously. I don’t think he likes being made a fool of any more than the councilman.
Piers looks a bit green around the gills. I’m not sure if it's the awful weather, fear of us, or regret for the situation he’s landed himself in. He’s still standing here, though, so he’ll reap the consequences just the same.
“No one to perform the ceremony?” Starla asks her father.
“You’re well aware that among witches and warlocks, a councilman has the authority to conduct such things. Human laws mean very little to me.”
“Hypocritical, when you partnered with one,” I snap, hoping to rile him enough to put him off guard, but not enough to strike.
Months ago, I wouldn’t have dared, but that was a different Leena, and Councilman Taylor has been tap-dancing on my last nerve since we went to England.
“You all assimilated to their culture; I instructed and used them to my advantage. Very different, dear.” His tone is that of a parent chiding a petulant child.
“Could we please get on with this! My shoes are getting muddy!” Piers pouts, acting much more like a spoiled brat than myself.
Starla and I step in front of our respective grooms, waiting to see what Councilman Taylor will do next.
His eyes follow our every step. I’m itching to throw myself at the water, but as Starla reminded me on the plane, ‘close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades’.
My ancestor’s instructions didn’t say we could be near the water. She said in the water.
I can’t afford to mess this up. If I do, I lose my song and my ability to protect my friends forever.
We stand facing the councilman, and Claude is closest to the shoreline as he clamps a hand over my arm, anchoring me in place.
Unfortunately it’s low tide, so there’s no chance of a stray wave washing over our feet.
Councilman Taylor whips out a couple of documents from thin air. Flashy magic.
“We’ll be signing these first. I have no doubt that you’ve got something up your sleeves, and I’d rather not find out what.”
“And if we don’t sign?” I ask.
His fingers blaze to life, licking at the edges of the documents with crackling electricity but not harming them.
“Then I’ll send a bolt sailing into the middle of my daughter’s bar faster than you can blink.
I’ll see it burned to ash, along with anything and anyone inside, if that’s what it takes.
If I have to grease the palm of every enforcer or Magikai representative that shows up for the aftermath, I will.
And I can. I do not lose. It’s time you girls learned that. ”
“Are we even going to exchange rings?” Starla asks, changing the topic.
“R-ring?” Councilman Taylor stumbles over the word, looking completely off-guard, although his eyes never leave the two of us.
Claude sighs, twisting one from off his finger. It’s golden with heavy ornamentation and reminds me of the class rings high school graduates from the area might wear. But this one has the Ivyrn Works crest on it. Or rather, the family crest, though it’s hard for me to think of it that way.
“Here, if this is so important. You will be looked after in accordance with my station, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not going to shame my family name by having a beach bum as a wife. We’ll get you a real ring after the ceremony.”
He tosses it at me with a look bordering on boredom, his arm fully releasing from mine. The councilman’s gaze flicks up, following the arc of the jewelry as it sails through the air.
I take my opportunity, shoving Claude and diving for the water.
The councilman’s attention is fully focused on me now, and Starla stomps on Piers’s foot. He howls in pain, and she ducks under his arms and rolls across the sand. Her shorts and sweater are covered in glistening granules. She’s just close enough for the water to lap against her outstretched hand.
With the other, she flings the necklace toward me, the shell glowing as bright as a star.
My fingers close around it at the same time a shock jolts through me.
Pain rockets through me. Leon’s men tased me, and I thought that had hurt. I was very, very wrong.
Is our back-up coming? They were instructed to wait until we’d broken the curse, worried that an all-out battle would be just as likely to get Starla and I separated from one another or incapacitated as it would be to help us succeed.
Now though, surely Jackal is coming for me.
Councilman Taylor wraps one hand around the necklace, taking it from my grasp, and letting his lightning fall away.
Fingers wrap around my upper arms, squeezing tight and forcing my arms to remain at my sides as the shocks subside.
“My new bride is going to be a handful,” Claude says.
Councilman Taylor examines his hands, as though sending a jolt through me might have broken a manicured nail.
“Did you try to find a way to break the naiad’s curse on your own? How industrious of you, and how disappointing that your efforts are as weak as your magic.”
The wind has picked up, lifting his hair and giving him a wild look I know he must try hard to avoid.
“I’m okay,” I scream too loudly, warning off the others.
They still intend to go through with the wedding. We still have a chance.
Piers is still twiddling his thumbs, appearing wholly uncertain of what to do.
Starla is suffering from no such problems. She flings herself at her father, pounding his chest with her fists as shocks go flying.
He lets loose with another jolt. Not enough to hurt the witch, but enough to send her stumbling backward.
“Let her go, you great oaf!” Starla says, turning her attention to Claude.
He smiles, all teeth.
“Why? She’s about to be mine anyway, isn’t she? Your father did mention he suspected she’s been cavorting with that stray dog you insisted on bringing to functions. I have to say, cousin, I always assumed you were the one slumming it with him. Or has he had you both?”
“Filth! Lies and filth! I’ll shut that mouth for you.” She throws her hand out, sending shocks his way. Her father flings a bolt, intercepting and redirecting her magic.
“Both of you, stop squabbling. This is not befitting our family. Whatever happened with the hyena is immaterial, and Starla is well aware that if he doesn’t keep his paws far away from our property, we’ll be paying his family a little visit.”
I struggle against Claude, hoping Jackal can keep himself from charging onto the sand.
Councilman Taylor would probably send a lightning sailing right for my mate’s heart.
The rain is pelting us now.
“Is her song in here? If it’s not, do feel free to force me to return the necklace.”
He waves it in front of my face, and I scowl, knowing I can’t do a thing.
“What a fascinating bauble. I may have to call Arloc back to the estate to examine it. Don’t worry, I’m sure we can put this to good use.”
“Councilman!” Claude yells over the winds. “Don’t forget our deal. I’m marrying her, which means that voice should be mine.”
“Our deal is seventy-thirty, and the best way to use it is to have the siren sing when and how we say. We will control the necklace, and in doing so, control her.”
He may have figured out that the necklace is holding my song, but he has no idea how it works.
I sag.
“I’ll do it. Whatever you need me to sing. You can decide how I use my song. Just don’t hurt us.”
“Sign, Starla. Let us be done with this,” Councilman Taylor instructs, pocketing the shell and shattering any hope I had that he would be foolish enough to try making me use it.
Starla throws her shoulders back and glares at her father.
“No! I’m not going back! Not even in a pine box!” she shouts over the building storm.
“You are a disappointment."
“Me? Disappointed doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel for you. You’re a worse father than a riled grizzly bear, and there’s been cases of them eating their own young!”
“Sign!” Councilman Taylor shouts, shoving the document in her face while reaching for her wrist. A snap of his hand, and a glowing quill appears in Starla’s grasp.
“Sign it, or I swear I will crush this shell and let the chips fall where they may.”
“You can’t do that!” Claude yells.
Nor’easters are no joke, and rain starts pelting us. Not lovely, comforting drops that make you want to hop around in puddles. Large, sharp blobs that smack at your skin like they’re trying to slice you open.
And worse, lightning.
It’s as if the weather is doing Councilman Taylor’s job for him.
Starla screams, throwing small sparks at her father.
He bats some away, ignoring the ones that go wide.
He’s toying with her. Another bolt of lightning slams into the sand, sending it shooting into the air.
The resulting glass sculpture that it will create would be beautiful if it came from any other source.
Starla crushes the quill in her hands, and Councilman Taylor reaches into his pocket for the necklace.
“Hold her!” he instructs Piers. The warlock grabs Starla by the wrists, looking miserable as she sends shocks through him, but hanging on.
“Leena!” Starla yells.
Councilman Taylor holds the necklace up, shell in his hand.
“Such a shame,” he says, squeezing.
We’re out of chances.
We were so close.
I can see a crack form along the shell, and pain slams into my chest.
I’m not sure if it will kill me, but the damage to the magic’s container unquestionably impacts me, and it’s excruciating. I slump in Claude’s arms, my vision dancing with black dots.
Black and white dots.
Black and white dots in the form of a snarling Were who leaps for Councilman Taylor.
Piers shoves Starla into the sand and runs.
The councilman throws his arms up at the last moment, protecting his face and neck.
The necklace goes flying.