Chapter 9 #2
“I have magic. My own. That’s all I need.”
Fennel meowed directly into my face then jumped off the couch and stormed into the kitchen.
“I also need my partners,” I said, waving his tuna breath away. “I always need my partners.”
“Yet, you don’t always keep them with you.”
I scrunched up my nose. “To be fair, they were with me today at the cafe, they just hung back because Cecil wanted to get drunk on faery cakes. Besides, Ronan was there.”
“You know I’m not only talking about today.”
“I’ve had wolves around. They hang out in the background and watch the park—and me.”
“And you can trust the pack?”
“Most of them, yes. Maybe not Brick Greeno, or the ones who worked directly with Floyd, or the more misogynistic branch, or the “keep the pack pure” weirdos, or the ones who don’t think I got the job the right way.”
She raised a brow, said nothing.
“Point made.” I sighed. “Even so, I’m uncomfortable with the idea of restarting the La Paloma coven. You know how I felt about it.”
“Who says you need to restart the La Paloma coven? Why not start a new and improved Smokethorn one?”
“That’s another thing. Margaux and Bronwyn don’t just want me to join, they want me to lead it,” I said, “and leading a coven goes against everything I am. Being responsible for so many people is anathema to— Quit laughing, Ida.”
My friend made zero attempt to stifle her laughter. She threw her head back and practically guffawed at me. The movement caused the recliner’s retractable footrest to pop up, so she crossed her ankles on it, still snickering. “I adore you, but you are ridiculous sometimes, Lilibet Lennox.”
“How?”
“You don’t like being responsible?” She wiped her eyes.
“You’re the most responsibility-driven person I’ve ever known.
In fact, you thrive on it. You took responsibility for your mother’s trailer park when you didn’t want to, took responsibility for trying to find someone to replace her—and not just any replacement, but a magical one who would ensure the soil here would thrive. ”
“That was part of honoring my mother,” I said.
She nodded to the window. “Out there are seven saguaros who live because you took responsibility for them. There are humans in this park who live because of you. Where would Gladys be if not for you?” She gestured in the general direction of Gladys’s trailer.
“Probably starving to death trying to keep a roof over her head.”
“That wasn’t just me.”
“Before you came along, I’d begged her to move into my spare bedroom, and she refused every time.
Don’t want to be a burden, she’d say. Alpha won’t like it, she’d say.
” Ida shook her head. “Then you come along and make her living situation part of a bet pitting Ronan against his abusive alpha father. Now she doesn’t feel like a burden anymore, she feels like part of a bigger plan.
You changed the trajectory of her life because you gave a damn about her. ”
“Come on, but that wasn’t about responsibility. It was fortuitous timing. I had the extra trailer, and the park works better when it’s—”
Ida plowed over me. “The entire La Paloma coven would be dead if not for you, and that’s a fact—Ronan’s kid sister and your new second-in-command, too.
If you hadn’t shouldered the burden of finding out what happened to that old horndog Sylvester Shaw, a murderer would still be on the loose.
If you hadn’t brought the Desert Oasis Senior Apartments under your magical little wing, there’d be a whole bunch of unhealthy, hurting old shifters living there. And then there’s the pack…”
“Not them,” I groaned.
But she was in full swing and showing no signs of slowing down.
“You killed that evil wolf, and before his body had even cooled, you’d already protected the pack from a malicious threat.
You don’t rest on your laurels. You don’t just sit back and let those wolves protect you.
You’re working hard to make their lives better, whether they know it or not.
” She heel-kicked the footrest down and stood, the chair rocking behind her.
“I know what you did with the blackmail stuff Floyd had in his office—I heard you on the phone renting that industrial shredder.”
I’d forgotten she was in the kitchen with me when I did that.
“You could’ve used the information to keep the pack under your thumb, but you destroyed it all, and I’m betting some of the stuff you got rid of would’ve made you a damn wealthy person, the way it did Pallás.
So please,” she stuck her hands on her hips and loomed over me, glaring directly into my eyes, “tell me again how you don’t like accepting responsibility. ”
“Fine. I take responsibility. But doing it doesn’t mean I like it.” My voice sounded small and childlike.
“And that’s perfectly understandable.”
Fennel padded back into the room and hopped up beside me. I stroked a finger over his head and smiled when his eyes closed.
“But you still do it.” Ida stepped around my legs and sat with Fennel and me on the couch. “So, what’s the real reason you don’t want to start a coven with Margaux and Bronwyn?”
It was a question I’d asked myself so many times it had become like the chorus of a way-too-catchy seventies song stuck in my head, like “Afternoon Delight” or “Escape (The Pina Colada Song).” Tunes torturous to a ruminating brain.
“You want the truth?”
She nodded.
“I’m afraid of making the dark side of myself more powerful.”
“Why?”
“I don’t understand myself, don’t really know what I am, much less who I am.” The words ripped out of me, raw and hoarse, and other than when I told Ronan I loved him, they may have been the truest thing I’d ever said.
“I don’t know why I sometimes turn gray and sometimes don’t.
Don’t know how I ended up with these.” I held up the chains.
They looked heavy, but they were as light as foam in my hands.
“Don’t know why I’m capable of teleporting a ghoul to another realm.
Don’t know how I killed eight wolves and then seven Org assassins by boiling their brains inside their heads. ”
“That’s fair. I don’t know how you did it, either.” She sat forward, resting her forearms on her knees. “But do you honestly think going it alone will help you find the answers? Maybe a coven is exactly what you need to keep your dark side in check.”
“Maybe.”
“Either way, you should talk to the witches—Bronwyn, in particular. She’s done some wrong things, sure, but I think she’s also done her best to make up for them, and you should hear her out.”
Exhaustion swamped me. “I’m not angry about that anymore. I’m not angry with Margaux for what she did or didn’t do for Mom, either. Knowing Mom, it wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference anyway. The woman was stubborn.”
“Then talk to them.” Ida smiled with her whole face, including her eyes. “And really let them in, too. Get dead honest with those witches. Tell them your fears and let them help you.” She reached for my hand, and I gave it to her. “You don’t have to do this alone.”