30. Peanut
Chapter 30
Peanut
T he world blurs as the car passes through suburbs, city streets, and finally rows of warehouses and alleyways. Somewhere in this maze is Noah and as we approach, the buzz prickles across my skin. Calling me to him.
“Faster,” I almost whimper as a shock rushes through me. He’s not okay. He needs me.
The car slows instead. “We’re here.” Grandma nods at Mom, grasping her shoulder tightly for just a second.
It’s rare to see a moment of intimacy between them. So rare that sometimes I even forget they’re mother and daughter.
No more words are spoken as we exit the car in front of the warehouse. It’s set off from the rest; a pang of familiarity causes my heart to clench. Memories threaten to fully break through the block Mom placed on me, just like when I first entered the shop. Memories of how I lost my father, in the same place I may lose Noah.
My knees wobble. I can’t lose Noah.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch as Laura’s hand stretches toward me as if in comfort before retreating.
I’ve lost everyone, haven’t I?
Laura and I walk behind Mom and Grandma through the double doors of the large building. It’s almost entirely bare inside, just some boxes, pipes, and them .
There’s three of them—daemons, I presume—waiting for us. Same as Botis, they each wear long black cloaks, only this time they have them over their heads. No horns to be seen, but claws still stick out from their sleeves.
My eyes flit past them to a small door on the back wall.
Noah.
“He’s alive,” a human-sounding voice says. A figure steps from the shadows. A tall, imposing man in a black button up-shirt and black jeans. “Although why take my word for it? After introductions, I’ll bring him out myself.”
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as he approaches, and I resist the urge to hide behind my mother’s back as I did all those years ago.
“Always one for the theatrics, Draven. You know you’ve gone too far this time,” Mom says, stepping forward.
The monster chuckles, moonlight lighting up his face for just a moment. He’s more man than warlock, with a strong, straight nose and Superman-esque chin. His white teeth glint in a smile. “Nice to see you again, Peanut.”
Peanut? Peanut ?
My mother has never been called Peanut in her life.
“This is between us,” she continues, as if all three of us aren’t gaping at her. “Release Noah. He’s innocent.”
“Is anyone? Was my brother innocent when you banished him to Hell?”
Grandma scoffs. “All we did was banish him, you act as if we killed him.”
Draven only smiles, black hair shining. With a snap of his fingers, two of the three daemons open the door. It cracks against the wall with inhuman force as they haul an unconscious Noah out of the room.
He doesn’t have any scary angles indicating broken bones, but there is a heavy bruise blooming under his eye. Rage boils my blood, making a torrent of wind whip at our backs.
“No.” Grandma’s hand stops me as I instinctively step toward him. “You must wait.”
“But he’s?—”
Her head turns sharply to me and I’m frozen in place by her icy glare. I’m forced to wait as he’s carried to us and placed on the floor.
His breathing is labored. Something’s wrong.
“I haven’t injured him, he’s merely in a coma,” Draven says, waving a bored hand toward Noah. “One quite easy to reverse. Even for a witch.”
What does he want? That’s the piece that’s missing. What is it that has made Draven care so damn much about our family? What started this vendetta? Is it really just the power our line possesses?
Draven chuckles, a low, dangerous growl that ripples down my spine. “Smart questions, Hazel. Why don’t you ask your mother?”
My eyes bug out of my head. He can read thoughts ?
“Give us the boy, Draven.” Mom’s back straightens, face hard as if she knew exactly how this was going to go. “You have me here, you have what you want. Let him and my family go.”
“That may have worked before, but you and I both know it’s not enough anymore.”
Laura leans in close. “Do you know what they’re talking about?”
I shake my head; Draven turns to us, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. He may seem like a man, but that smile is all warlock. An evil twist of a thing.
“Would you like me to tell the story, Peanut, or would you like to tell your family how your husband’s death was your own fault?” he asks, drawing out each word and playing with it like a cat with a mouse.
The daemons shift beside Noah’s limp body. Their cloaks cover their features, but the one closest stretches his claws.
“Do not touch him,” I say, unable to stop the possessive growl. “Unless you wish to know a fate worse than death.”
Mom takes Grandma’s hand without warning, closing her eyes. “Away with you, daemons.”
A rumble jostles my footing, knocking Laura and I together, as a crack in the earth opens beneath the three daemons. A wave of water springs forth from the hole in a giant crescent, enveloping them and pulling them down. It happens in an instant, just a second. We’re alone with Draven. No longer outnumbered. They didn’t even have a chance to scream.
Draven simply blinks at the display. “And you claim I’m dramatic.”
It’s as if he expected it, as if he knew exactly what she was capable of. Which is more than I can say. My mouth may be permanently stuck to the floor.
“Did you know she could do that?” Laura whispers, jaw in a similar state as mine.
I simply shake my head in response. Even Grandma looks slightly impressed, and I’m pretty sure Grandma has never been impressed by anything. Least of all by Mom.
Mom takes a single step forward. “Give him to me, Draven.”
It’s as if her proximity flicks a switch in his head. His face twists in pain, as if he was punched in the gut. As if that single step forward was the most painful thing he’s ever endured. As if she is the most painful thing he has ever endured.
His hands ball into fists, shoulders squaring. His chest visibly heaves with each deep breath, as if he has to physically control himself.
“Not until you tell them. That is my price. Tell them what you’ve done, and I’ll hand him over willingly.”
“Tell us what?” I scream. They’ve been dancing around it for the entire time, whatever it is. And I won’t lose Noah to it.
Mom’s head drops, arms wrapping around herself protectively.
“I’ll start at the beginning.”
“It began when I was a young woman. I’d moved out of your grandmother’s house and had my first real taste of freedom,” Mom says, turning to face the three of us. Her usually liquid-gold brown eyes are dull, muddy as she speaks.
“I played with magic in new ways, tested boundaries and learned so much about myself and about my craft. I explored the magical world, met magical people...” She hesitates, glancing toward Draven. “Met Draven.”
Grandma’s hand flies to her décolletage. “Oh, Sarah.”
Mom shrugs. “Draven was interesting and intelligent, dangerous but I never felt unsafe. I felt powerful as he showed me magic I had only imagined. A part of me always knew that it wasn’t sustainable. That we were too different. That eventually it would drive us apart.”
The words hit like an expected punch. Some part of me knew it was coming, and yet I didn’t block it. Couldn’t.
“Liar,” Draven snarls. He’s still here? “We are two sides of the same coin, and you never thought we were different until you met him.”
“Dad,” Laura and I say at the same time.
My gaze settles on Noah, where he lies unconscious on the ground. What would I have done if I were already in a relationship when I met Noah? The soulmate bond is too strong. I wouldn’t have been able to fight it.
“I met Peter by happenstance.” Despite the mood, despite the circumstance, the corners of her mouth lift at the mere mention of Dad. “I was at the grocery store, and we reached for the same avocado. I instantly knew who he was, what he was. What Draven wasn’t and never would be. Meeting Peter changed me. I wanted to do better, be better, for him. Stop dabbling in magic I had no business touching. And Draven...Well, I knew that it was time to put that friendship away.”
He scoffs. “Trying to downplay what we were as friendship .”
Mom stands taller, as if his rebuttal strengthened her resolve. “Friendship. Don’t make it out to be more than it was.”
He snarls, smoke streaming from his nose.
“As you can see by this display, Draven didn’t take it well,” she says. “But there was nothing he could do. And I thought we could go our separate ways relatively peacefully, but I was wrong. It took a few years—years of him doing God knows what, years in which I stupidly got comfortable. Built my family, had you girls. Then the attacks started. I knew it was Draven, before Mother volunteered us to take care of this issue. I knew it was him.”
Grandma shakes her head. “You knew the warlock we banished wasn’t Draven.”
“Yes. I figured Draven would see the act of mercy as an olive branch, as a warning from an old friend. I was very, very wrong.”
“Banishing my brother as an act of mercy? If you only knew...”
“You act as if I killed him, when he’s probably back and has been for years,” Mom spits. “But I’m not a murderer. Not like you.”
The way he focuses on her, the way his eyes track her every movement, it’s as if no one else is in the room. After all this time, after everything, some part of him loves her still.
“You knew how close I was to Drinek. You knew how he looked up to me, and yet you still cast him away like some sort of object. Like he meant nothing. And then he died in the pits of Hell you banished him to.” The flame flicks up his arm, an uncontrollable burning that flashes with each word he speaks.
Mom visibly deflates, any strength she’d pulled together drifting away on the whistling wind through the rafters of the warehouse. “That was not my intention.”
“And so I took what was owed to me. A life for a life. But you, Peanut, you took it further, didn’t you? Tell them how you couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. Tell them what you’ve been doing for the last thirteen years. What you did after I left.”
For the first time tonight, the space is silent. The wind stops whipping, the leaky pipe in the corner stops dripping, and all eyes are on Mom. Even the moon is drawn to her, shining its light down on her alone.
“I’ve hunted down every goddamn daemon or warlock I could find, and I destroyed them, and that is why Draven has returned. To stop me.”
There is no remorse in her tone, despite Noah lying on the floor because of her actions. Because of Draven’s action.
Because of both of their actions. Despite Dad dying because of them.
She took my magic away and has been out here daemon hunting. Putting all of us at risk for what? Her own hypocritical vendetta?
“You two are disgusting.” I’m unable to hold my tongue. “You are twisted together in a vile tangle that has dragged everything and everyone good down into the depths. Your obsession with each other has killed multiple people, and while many of them have been daemons, one of them was our father. And I refuse to be part of it any longer. I refuse to let Noah be more collateral damage in your obsession.”
For once, Grandma seems to be speechless. Her mouth opens a few times as if she’s finally formed the words and then closes again. Laura stands still at my side.
Finally, Mom turns to me. Any light that ever lived in her eyes is gone. “I have no intention of letting anything happen to Noah. I promised that before we came, and I plan to uphold that.”
Draven’s right eyebrow raises, flame calmly receding to his fingertips. As if he’s amused by her attempt.
Calmly, Mom walks over to the three of us. “I apologize for my actions. I can’t ever atone for what I’ve done, for the choices I’ve made. But I will attempt to do so today.”
She hugs Grandma, looking for the first time like a daughter seeking comfort from her mother. “Mom, I pushed you away because I knew if I kept you too close you’d know exactly what I was up to. And my pride, my self-righteousness, couldn’t handle the mirror you’d hold. You’d force me to see my hypocrisies. Thank you for not letting me disappear completely.”
She releases Grandma and takes Laura’s hands, tears welling in her eyes. “Laura, you are beautiful and far more intelligent than anyone gives you credit for. I know I created a hostile home for you, and my only hope for you is that you learn to trust someone again. Anyone. Even just yourself.”
She touches my shoulder, and I feel her drawing on my magic. Feel it filling her up alongside Grandma and Laura’s. “Hazel. Thank you for challenging me, thank you for finding yourself and being the strength that I couldn’t provide for you. Protect Noah with everything you have, which is more than you could ever imagine. You are powerful, you are strong, and you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Without waiting for any of us to reply, Mom turns and effortlessly glides toward Draven—who, despite his insistence that he wants us all to suffer, hasn’t taken his eyes off her this entire time. He doesn’t stop her; he welcomes her as she approaches. She takes his hand.
“Forgive me.”
In a moment too quick for us—or Draven—to do anything, they’re encased in a globe of water.
And the water collapses.
And they’re gone.