Shrouded Agendas: Ozark Destinies Series, Book 4

By Shanda Adams

Life as a vampire is getting no easier for Mari, despite her brother joining her in the Springfield enclave, as doubts arise over who in the household is to be trusted now that their chieftain knows of Christoph's intent to go renegade, and the escalating war with the Ouachita colony has brought in the clan’s Italian monarch, who well guards his true knowledge and intentions. No less a worry for Troy and Caron, her having become a pawn in the clan’s power plan, they’re also facing troubles closer to home with David fighting the divorce and the rapid development of a unique new life inside her. But the dangers to Caron and the baby prompting them to form a coven of witches around them finds new challenges in a sleeper ready to embrace his destiny and dealings with her immortal mother. All the while, preoccupied by the past, Troy’s downplaying of the prophesized danger to his future will have deadly consequences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483537320

Book preview

coincidental.

Chapter 1

Troy quickly minimized the screen at Hans walking into the computer alcove. He didn’t need anyone wondering what he was doing. It was curious enough that he was spending so much time in the library this week, a little surprising no one had asked already. In the past he might go an entire six week stay at Windermere without ever setting foot in there. Then, too, he’d shown up with the courtesan he’d foresworn ever taking, so they probably didn’t know what to expect of him as a whole these days.

But he’d kept Caron in the dark about his pursuits as well. Even as to how often he was here rather than in his studio while she slept. He hated hiding it from her, but she would ask why and there was no point in distressing her for nothing. Whatever version of the truth he went with. He wasn’t going to find anything. He’d done this same search a couple of years ago, innumerable searches of all kinds over the past two hundred years. As always, there was no sign of anyone —except Daniel, of course.

It had been too painful to stay in touch with him over the years. But when the hunt flushed him out this time, he’d broken down and contacted him, asked if he’d ever had word on any of the old Cairnmichael clansmen. However unlikely with him living in Peru for the past century. Of course, Daniel knew what he was really asking; he’d helped with the frantic dig through the smoldering rubble of the enclave. And, indeed, said he’d never heard anything about anyone surfacing before or since he moved away, assured that he’d have let him know somehow. It was just as Troy had expected. She alone couldn’t have survived.

When Riley entered right after Hans, Troy gave up. He shut down and left the computer lab. He should abandon the entire effort. Why was he putting himself through this again? It never even crossed his mind the whole week they were on their practice honeymoon, as Caron called it. But as soon as they returned and got settled into hiding out here for the time being, everything they’d taken a short escape from came flooding back in.

So what if Cienna’s handmaiden was Scottish? And a red-head, therefore, not that unusual. With arresting turquoise eyes. That’s where he kept falling down. His Glynis used to complain that hers were purer green, like his, prior to her awakening, but kept getting bluer during the transformation before she died. Resulting in the most gorgeous shade of turquoise, he could have gazed into her eyes for hours. Often did. But this tiny young lass could not be her.

The uncanny coincidence just disturbed him because he was so blissfully happy now that he was afraid something would ruin it. Spooked him enough the night Andy mentioned Cienna’s Glynis for him to have begged Caron to at least form a spiritual union until such time as she was free of David, had her mother perform a ritual handfasting before they left for Salem. There had been something inexplicably satisfying about the impromptu ceremony by an ordained priestess in her bathrobe in her kitchen in the dead of night. And he’d loved privately calling Caron his wife this past two weeks, though publicly, legally, she still had to be his fiancée if they didn’t want her charged with polygamy.

He scanned the main floor living area as he came out of the library, half expecting to find Caron in the kitchen. She complained lately that all she wanted to do anymore was eat or sleep. He’d add a third activity to that list, but wasn’t going to argue. Or complain. He was just glad her appetite was back and she was keeping food down. But it may mean she hadn’t gotten up yet. If she still wanted to go to her parents before Samhain ritual, he probably should wake her while she had plenty of time for whatever she needed to do to get ready.

It really was entirely up to her what she told them—about herself; she knew any vampire connections in her life had to be kept secret. Half-breeds could use their own discretion in what they revealed to whom about their heritage, as far as he’d been able to learn. But it did surprise him a little that she wanted to go ahead and tell them now.

With their pagan faith, he’d agree they could probably handle the news, however shocking. And with the young will-o-the-wisp expectant mother who’d asked them to take her baby, before Caron turned up as a teensy newborn in their kitchen one night, there was already something curious about her origins this could reasonably explain. Reasonably, huh. Relatively. And they wouldn’t be able to keep it from them indefinitely. There was every chance the elfling would start displaying its own elemental talents in childhood, even involuntarily in infancy. What they may be in for with this child still unnerved him a little. Especially since his progeny was also a fifth gen legacy vampire. He tried to drop that line of thought before it could turn to Mari’s brother’s role in all their current trials but it inescapably crept into his mind lately, also.

Ben was among those who had been trapped in the Springfield enclave for the past couple of weeks. He may or may not have had been able to talk to Mari yet, but Christoph knew Ben was the baby’s father. Biologically. He had his own family problems, though, with their chieftain on lock-down with them. And embroiled in war as he was at the moment, hopefully Christoph didn’t want to stir up further domestic trouble by saying anything. At least until Mari was back under his roof again and not distracting his focus.

Troy really couldn’t let himself think about her, not an hour away, only Andy watching over her. He paused at the top of the stairs that came up from the dining area. Caron would be in his room on the third floor if she was still asleep. Cameo had offered to set her up in the quarters that she’d intended to be Mari’s but he’d insisted they wouldn’t be staying there long or often and he preferred that his courtesan continue to share his room. Cam was the only one in the household that knew most of the truth about Caron. As he started down the corridor toward the staircase that came out closest to his quarters, he couldn’t help but smile at her reaction when she’d returned home a couple of days ago and found Caron here in her enclave with him.

In her thousand-whatever years, the enclave’s founder had actually met a few half-breeds, recognized right away the innate magnetic pull they exerted on vampires. Cameo agreed that, as highly desirable familiars, the more secret they could keep her identity, the better, even amongst friends. The three of them had spent that evening visiting in her fairly soundproof quarters in a remote part of the mansion where they could talk freely without concern over all the acute vampire hearing there. She’d been able to share with Caron her experience of other half-breeds abilities and what she should be able to do.

They’d already known that, being half-human, Caron was still susceptible to vampires’ abilities. Troy had often read her thoughts since his blood tripped her latent heritage. But while they were in Salem they’d also tested whether she could still be compelled.

Unfortunately, that was an outright success. She was completely unable to exert her own will and not do as she was told. She’d have at least hesitated a moment before she slapped him. Or put such wicked force behind it! Holy Mother. It had distressed her greatly to realize what she’d just done, see the fleeting mark she’d left on his cheek, but it showed what they needed it to. If commanded, she’d attack even him.

Whether she’d do something more violent, especially against those she loved, he was less certain. It seemed to be programmed into her to protect vampires. The first time she’d felt he was truly threatened, her latent abilities emerged full force. She insisted it was her job; was why she could augment the energy shield he could create around himself so it prevented sunlight from harming him. But that she could still be compelled put her very much at risk of obediently serving and staying with Gianni if he got ahold of her, even if just in her protective capacity.

Troy silently slipped into his room. Being in a cavern underground, Windermere was always consistently cool, and impervious to temperature, no one there usually paid it any mind. But it was quite balmy in his room at the moment. In order to remain as inconspicuous as possible, Caron tried not to alter the ambient temperature around her everywhere she went in the house, but he didn’t mind if she wanted it warmer while she slept. In fact, it may not have been conscious; she had burrowed herself deep under the down comforter.

Peeling back one corner of it to see her better, he sat down on the side of the bed. He hated to wake her. She looked so peaceful, really was the most adorable little thing he’d seen in his entire life. He’d like to crawl in there with her for the next few decades, just hide from the whole world together. The coming arrival of the elfling made that absurdly impractical. She’d need to be raised in the outside world, for one thing. Besides, if Caron was ever to be truly and completely his, they also had to deal with David. And willing as she was to go underground with him for now for safety’s sake, she probably missed her house.

Caron was more worried than he was about the supposed danger to him. He hadn’t really studied the meaning of that prediction. What was there to investigate? His only possible enemies were either very much alive or unquestionably dead. He had given it a little thought. David might fairly be considered an enemy but he couldn’t see him being truly dangerous, no more than troublesome about the divorce.

He was wanted for a string of murders. Well, feeder negligence, not that such made it more forgivable. But the better part of two centuries ago, there wasn’t a living soul still hunting him, nor would the human world imagine him to be alive anymore, either. He doubted the threat to him was human, anyway. That made it more difficult for it to be someone presumed dead.

Hershel Hayes might be disgruntled over the destruction of his progeny after she ran from him again. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t responsible for that. Christoph beheaded Hannah. On Mari’s orders, for that matter. But it was doubtful Hayes even knew what happened to her, that she wasn’t just in hiding from him somewhere. And he had nothing to do with an empty tomb.

It kept coming back to Ben as someone who at least in the eyes of the world was dead, but wasn’t really, not for another week. It would fit; Cienna had been weaving the entire royal court into that quatrain. And he’d still be an issue once he reawakened. Caron was dead set against him having anything to do with the baby; now considered that little drunken escapade after her fight with David as not so much a mistake as it was divine intervention. She’d long accepted medical opinion that she was unlikely to conceive, and to insure against a family he never wanted, David had gotten a vasectomy over the summer without telling her. She believed she was meant to have a baby at this time when he, himself, would enable a very special paternal heritage, also.

Who was he to argue whether elementals still interfered in human and vampire affairs? Whether her true mother may indeed have been watching over her, led her to her destiny and heart’s desire. He certainly hadn’t deliberately seeded her, ever anticipated awakening a half-breed or falling in love with her.

When Caron stirred, he gently stroked the silken blond strands that fanned down over her back. There was no rush, he could give her a few more minutes, would rather she woke in her own time. Trying not to jostle the bed, he stretched out beside her. Apparently just sensing him there, she snuggled up close and slipped an arm around him, kicked a little at the covers that lay between them, prevented her entwining her leg with his. She settled in again when he put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She needed the extra sleep if she could get it. It was going to be a long and tiring day, probably a very late night.

For him, it would be an interesting evening, at the least. The conversation with her parents aside, it had been many a decade since he’d been around a coven. He’d pretty well abandoned religion centuries ago but had promised to support her in her faith. Given that she was the offspring of an immortal elemental, it was no surprise she felt such an affinity with nature, had more interest these days in rejoining the lifestyle she’d grown up with. She was still likely to be unique among them. But he was curious to see if there were any true witches in this coven.

*

Mari continued to orbit the moon phases in her mental temple. This had been pointless. One day left and she’d accomplished nothing other than upsetting Christoph. After the past year one would think she’d have learned that having to do things her way didn’t mean it was the right way. Things never turned out like she planned anymore. Still, they’d generally come out alright.

Rushing her transformation had caused all kinds of problems but, in the end, had been for the best. Leaping headlong into her role as Christoph’s foreshadower had landed her now in a war she didn’t really feel prepared for but, according to Cienna’s prediction for him two hundred years ago, would ultimately end up with him ruling over a new kingdom with her by his side. So, she supposed she’d learn to deal with it all. And accepting her progenitor’s proposal in order to have Troy back in her life she never anticipated would mean along with his wife, once best friend, now freakishly powerful half-breed elemental, and her unborn witch. The child also a fifth generation legacy with potentially unrivaled, unknown abilities and Troy’s first progeny.

It was hard to see how this one would work out. And he wasn’t in her life right now.

After she’d been at her old home a couple of days, she’d gone into the mists to see him, just see him, since Caron was apparently banning all contact; not even letting him return her calls. She’d nearly thrown up when her mind got yanked half way across the country to what looked like Salem, maybe. She equally could have heaved at the scene in the hotel room she’d walked in on. Maybe served her right for spying on them, but what the hell were they doing in Salem, Massachusetts? Besides the obvious. When were they coming back? Were they already?

She hadn’t dared go look for him again for fear of where she’d get sent next. Last thing she wanted was to get hurled overseas again; she’d blacked out when she’d accidentally gotten thrown to Italy. Of course, she could simply part the mists and view a scene from inside her mind without going into the visionary realm, having to endure the trauma of leaping great distances away or ahead in time. But she hadn’t even tried that and had to add the specification ‘when they’re not making love’ to the command for a view of his current whereabouts.

Had they gone on the run? Troy was apparently in danger from some mystery figure. A recent prediction by Uziel’s foreshadower had said that a strayed son of Lyon with allegiance of convenience was imperiled by an empty tomb. Cryptic as Cienna’s quatrains were, that had to be Troy, implying that he had an enemy somewhere who was thought to be dead. He claimed to do his level best not to make any enemies, but in over two hundred years as a vampire, he must have crossed someone.

Her ability to look into the future hadn’t helped to solve that puzzle. There was no fixed event in time where he would be ‘imperiled’; no concrete plans by anyone as yet that would put him in danger. Not as far as she could find. Cienna could look at least two hundred years ahead into events that Mari would think could be altered a thousand different ways, see the lives of people who hadn’t even been born yet. How the hell she did that was beyond her. Okay, so she’d only been at this for about six months and Cienna had been doing it for at least five hundred years, over a thousand for all she knew. And her own skills were still evolving, granted.

Cienna had apparently told her brother that all foreshadowers’ abilities aren’t entirely the same. She, herself, had never spoken with Cienna, only seen her and her visions from the mists. But the gift was rare enough she had no other comparison. Most vampires had never even met a foreshadower. And if they had, usually all that he or she could do was to get a quick, and largely involuntary, flash of what was about to happen. Her own gift was one in a million, no doubt. But then Christoph had specially bred for her over four generations.

It was still hard to believe sometimes that her very existence was the result of a prophesy. She tried not to let it bother her. As Troy had said the night she found out, regardless of why she came into being, she was a seriously planned pregnancy, was very much wanted. Having grown up thinking she was an accident, that actually was a bit of a comfort.

The biggest development with her gift lately was the ability to share Christoph’s thoughts when she was remote viewing the present rather than looking into the future. He could even sort of see her. Not the way Cienna could see her, in either the present or the future, which she’d described as something like a holographic image. That was creepy enough that Mari avoided actually entering the visionary realm to keep track of what she was seeing. But Christoph could tell where she was, at least, as a vaguely human form that disturbed the air like a heat distortion.

Mari made herself stop pacing restless circles inside her head. Her stay hadn’t been to no benefit. However temporarily useful, it had been a startling and wonderful discovery to learn that by touching him she could not only talk to him telepathically but hear whatever he heard. Had even advanced, it seemed, to merely having to be in his presence. Voices had always eluded her in her visions before. It made it easier to keep up with what was going on at the enclave the past two weeks. And in sharing with him what she’d viewed ahead of the siege and how to counteract Ouachita’s offensive, it saved a lot of time not having to relay conversations at HQ both ways.

When their clan chieftain had gotten trapped inside the Springfield enclave at the onset, he’d sent down massive forces from the Kansas City Colony to combat the siege. Christoph had received a couple units of warriors when they seized Aurora and requisitioned more when he told Gianni they were making a preemptive strike on Joplin—all that he’d had no intention of giving back. But the number of warriors Gianni had called in now still shocked her. It was impossible to watch them all, keep track of all the skirmishes, without essentially living in the mists, which she refused to do, would Christoph even allow such abuse of her gift. Gianni had been staying in the thick of the planning, so she’d had to work remotely with him, little as Christoph liked his progenitor knowing the extent of her abilities, either.

The past couple of days, however, the most important business to Christoph had been coordinating punching a hole in the surrounding forces so she could return tomorrow. He was dead serious about her deadline. And since Gianni was trying to negotiate a deal with him in part for the use of her visions, he was equally anxious that she make it back into the enclave safely, supported this use of her time and his men. Several units of his warriors would hold the corridor open at the moment she was passing through, as well as a dozen of his elite warriors surrounding her and Andy en route all the way up to the lower southwest entrance.

She needed to pay Christoph a visit, make sure everyone had their instructions on the exact locations of Dominic’s men that were to be taken out of the way at nine o’clock. It had to be exactly timed in order to slip thru without the Canpelli chieftain realizing there was a specific reason for targeting his warriors in that area, nor have time to move the forces in to keep the enclave cut off. Which seemed a big part of their intent right now, just keeping them pinned in. Vampire warfare had a subtlety to it by necessity. Especially in this day and age, humans couldn’t be made aware of altercations between colonies by bombarding one another’s enclaves.

Besides, she just wanted to see Christoph again, share the intimacy of the mental connection even if they couldn’t have any physical relationship, not feel one another when they touched from the mists. Nice as it had been to be back in her little two-room house in the woods, albeit strange, she really missed him. A whole lot more than she’d expected to when she’d begged him to let her stay here to try to deal with David.

For all the good that had done. She’d finally figured out what to do if she could get to him, what to implant in his mind to counteract the devotion she’d errantly instilled in him toward his wife so he’d stop fighting the divorce. Obviously that wasn’t happening any time soon. He’d been back to their house several times in the past couple of weeks, but Troy and Caron weren’t there and he hadn’t come to her own house looking for them. That surprised her. He knew it was Troy’s house now so she’d think that would be the next place he’d look for her. But maybe he was wanting to talk to Caron without him around, kept hoping to catch her alone.

Andy flatly refused to allow her out in public since she was supposedly dead. In fact was, but that was beside the point. She still hadn’t achieved full invisibility yet, could no more than translucently blend with her surroundings; the ability to bend light was seriously challenging. So, even if she could then enhance a human’s non-awareness of her in his mind, as well, as far as Andy was concerned, it wasn’t good enough to face David. As her body guard, answerable to Christoph, he never let her take any chances. Especially now that they were outside the enclave. He knew his life was forfeit if anything happened to her.

He wouldn’t even let her out to feed. Troy had a fair supply of blood in the refrigerator, which Andy said Christoph assured would be replaced, so she could just made do with that. Obviously, it wasn’t an independent decision not to let her out tracking feeders.

Okay, it was true; she’d never been hunting before. That wasn’t her idea. Christoph had a private stable for her from the day she’d arrived. She was used to calling for a feeder morning and night when she was putting herself through such mental exhaustion. It wasn’t that she had to. She was just pampered, alright, yes, spoiled even. If she wasn’t spending half her time in the mists, she could go two or three days between feedings, no problem.

As it was, she had no problem cutting herself back to a daily feeding of the packaged stuff. No wonder Troy was barely feeding when he holed up in her house a couple of months ago. She seriously needed to see that Tiara was given time from now on to get out to feed. Her handmaiden had never once complained about having to get most of her meals from the enclave’s blood bank, but she’d never known before just what Tiara was sacrificing.

She’d often regretted that she never got the chance to hunt, to hone her tracking skills and captivate a feeder. She didn’t even know what your everyday human tasted like, what variety was out there; Christoph had procured the tastiest ones he could for her pantry. It still seemed that neglecting her predatory side might be inhibiting her ability to shapeshift into a mountain lion, never mind that fashioning a tail seemed so weird. She’d felt what it was like to have one in a pseudo visionary dream. On the whole, though, denying her the thrill of the hunt seemed detrimental to her development as a vampire.

Once they returned to Springfield, however, it was laughable to think she’d be allowed to do so still. Even more so that she’d ever be in a position in the future to connect with David. It was hard to imagine that Christoph would let her set foot further than the outside of the mountain again. And not even that until Dominic surrendered the attempt on the enclave in retaliation for Christoph seizing the one in Joplin, assassinating his first gen progeny who’d ruled there.

Mari found herself pacing over the moon phases again as she debated between checking on David’s whereabouts one more time or going to see Christoph first. The warriors in the field might not even have their instructions for tomorrow night yet. They still had tonight’s skirmishes to get through. The sergeants likely knew by now, and the lieutenants surely knew the longer range plans, but as precision as the individual warriors’ orders were for eliminating a specific target or routing a particular strike, they mostly just received them a night at a time.

On the other hand, even if David was back in the area again this weekend, what could she do about it? For all the good it was doing either of them, he might as well stay in Kansas City.

*

What a nervous little mouse you are tonight.

Caron stopped pacing between the sink and the stove, looked at her father as he came into the kitchen in full ritual garb. Too right about that. They were about to find out why.

He came over and took her hands. I know it’s been a while since you were in circle but I don’t think that’s it. Or the announcement of you going from maiden to mother. You worrying about the introduction of your young man to the group?

She looked over at Troy calmly sitting at the table. Outwardly, anyway. She wouldn’t bet that on the inside he wasn’t almost as nervous as she was. Did she really want to do this just yet? No, Daddy, I’m sure they’ll all accept him. Just as you and Mom have.

It still melted her heart to see the gratitude in their eyes whenever she called them Mom and Dad ever since they’d admitted to not being her true parents. But Troy was right; they loved her dearly and were the only parents she’d ever known. It was doubtful she’d ever know her real mother and she wasn’t sure that who her biological father was mattered. These were the parents She’d wanted her to have and they’d accepted the responsibility with their whole hearts, couldn’t have been a better choice. But how was the revelation of what her mother really was, what she really was, going to affect the way they saw her?

Troy reached out a hand and wiggled his fingers, bidding her over to him. There were still times she felt like pinching herself. But she wasn’t just dreaming what he really was. Her sweet, beautiful, self-persecuted vampire. He deserved every happiness in the world. It was hard to believe, in his eyes, that meant having her for his bride. And to have his little one-day vampire offspring growing in her womb. Any part of that was still a bit staggering.

She settled on his lap, the agitation falling away as he wrapped his arms around her. She could handle anything with him beside her. But explaining him wasn’t going to be any easier; she couldn’t tell them the truth. Dad just smiled at the two of them and set about packing the basket for the post-ritual pot luck feast. Is Mom nearly ready? There’s something I want to talk to you both about before we go.

Nearly, I think. He cocked his head at her. Undoubtedly he was curious what was up, maybe even a bit wary. Only two weeks ago, they’d been woken at the witching hour for Mom to marry them, just so Troy could declare to them, and whatever gods were listening, that he’d cherish her for all time before running away with her. I could hurry her along if you need.

No need, her voice came from the doorway to the living room. I’m all set. I was wanting to get there early.

Caron smiled at the barely whispered, Good luck with that, from Troy.

So, what’s on your mind, Sweetie? He took the jar of honey Mom passed him from the counter and nestled it in the basket alongside the cornbread, then met her eye again.

She just looked at him, suddenly at a loss how to start, even though she rehearsed it in her head all the way from the enclave. Uh, you both may want to sit down. This is a little hard to wrap your head around. But it’s nothing to worry about, she quickly assured when Mom’s brow furrowed. I’ve found out a bit about my birth mother.

At that Mom did sit down a little hard on the nearest chair. Is that what you were doing in Salem?

No, not directly. She had thought she might be able to find out more about elementals in general if they could track down any genuine witch descendants. And though she’d spoken with a number of ‘hereditary’ witches, the farther back they traced their lines, legitimizing their claim, the further removed they actually were from a possible elemental ancestor. That really was just a pleasure trip, a practice honeymoon.

She smiled at Troy faintly shaking his head. He was amused by her calling it that, teased her about how well-rehearsed she’d encouraged it being. She’d heard no objections at the time. At the moment, he was most likely thinking that pretty blatantly said what he’d been doing with their daughter all week rather than sightseeing. But, seriously, how big a surprise could it be when her mother had just bound their hands together before they left. It shouldn’t be, anyway, as they thought he was the father of her child. She kissed his cheek before turning back to them.

It’s hard to know how to say this exactly. Mom, don’t you start crying. Her eyes were getting awfully glassy. There’s nothing to get upset over. This really is good news. You’re not losing me. Except to him. She tipped her head at Troy as she met Dad’s eye. He’d made a comment that night about giving up his baby girl to Troy, as if he hadn’t already given her hand away once before. I didn’t go looking for my birth mother to see why she abandoned me, or try to reconnect with her or anything. From what I’ve learned, that would be tricky at best. Alright, first off, I probably ought to reassure you that I haven’t gone off my rocker.

She glanced at Troy again over the single laugh she felt rather than heard. Well? She’d sure thought she may be losing her mind when it all started happening. And he hadn’t been very helpful; just kept saying not to worry about it, they’d get it sorted out. She knew now he was still trying to work it out himself first. But she was a bit freaked for a while even after they’d determined the cause.

He shook his head and snuggled her closer. No, you’re doing fine, elf. Go on.

She looked back and forth at the puzzlement on her parents’ faces. "It is going to sound crazy at first, I know. But I can prove I’m not making it all up."

Mouse, sweetie, you know you can tell us anything. Sitting down adjacent to them at the table, Dad reached for her hand. When have we ever not believed you?

True. Even growing up when she’d told them plans or dreams of hers which to them had seemed fairly radical —which is to say, conservative. And looking back, most maybe were. But she’d never tried to tell them she was only half human. "I know, Daddy, and believed in me. But this isn’t quite the same. You’ve always known there was something a little curious about how I came into your care, but it appears that it’s pretty normal for Her kind to have no inclination, or means perhaps, to raise a child. Though I’m not saying She hasn’t cared about my happiness, or even continued to guide my destiny, maybe. Oh, I knew this wasn’t going to come out right."

Her folks only looked more bewildered. But she couldn’t just blurt out that her mother was an immortal being, one of the gods, making her a demi-god. She still had a little problem with that title, herself. However, in some ways, did find it preferable to ‘half-breed’. That term made her feel like a mule, though obviously not a sterile beast, after all. They’d surely think that recent events may have sent her around the bend.

Angel, you don’t really have to do this now, Troy murmured with a gentle, soothing stroke of her hair, sensing the return of her apprehension with the frustration.

What do you mean ‘her kind’? Mom picked up the salient part of that. I don’t think you just mean extremely young, unwed mothers.

Young. There was a relative term. Perhaps in the way mankind was in relation to the age of the earth. I know She appeared very young to you. But that’s a matter of perception. Maybe the easiest way into this is a demonstration. Troy didn’t hamper her getting up and going to the sink to take the candle in a jar off the window sill and bring it back to the table. Just show them the way he’d shown her, get into the how it was possible once that shock had worn off a bit.

Not trusting to her legs to keep her stable, Caron sat back down on Troy’s lap. Holding the candle up to her parents with one hand, she gave a wave at it with the other; the gesture more for effect than of necessity. A flame obediently leapt up.

Dad startled, a squeak of a gasp coming from her mother.

She doused it with a thought and set the candle down, stayed focused on it. Light. The wick reignited.

How... how... Her father just stared at it.

Mom’s wide eyes came up to meet hers, her mouth hanging open. She couldn’t even voice that much of a question. Caron shrugged at her, then reached for the glass of water sitting on the table, touching the rim, grew a delicate frost all the way down the outside. She knew better than to suddenly turn the water to ice; glasses tended to shatter when she did that. Your daughter is a freak. Like they hadn’t thought that before, starting when she was nine and announced she wanted to be a CEO and live in a mansion when she grew up.

Elf, Troy gently scolded.

Well, I am. As in abnormal. Literally a freak of nature. She looked back and forth between her parents again. A child of nature. Of a nature spirit, that is.

Gracious, child. Mom found her voice. How...

Okay, so she hadn’t, however, found a coherent question yet, either. Understandably. It was pretty mind-blowing. I discovered my gifts about the same time I learned I was pregnant. She met Troy’s eye. That much was true. Never mind how her gifts were enabled.

You’re a witch? I mean, I mean, an honest-to goodness witch? Dad looked back and forth between her, the candle and the glass.

Not exactly, Daddy. My child will be. And you need to be prepared for the fact that it may do things like this spontaneously before it’s old enough to learn to control its powers. It took me a few weeks to learn to not accidentally tap an element, even after I realized I was doing so. My mother was what our culture might call an Elemental.

Although throughout history, Troy put in, Her kind have been branded as gods, sprites, pixies, elves, any number of supernatural beings.

Dad tipped his head at him. And are you also a...a...

Demi-god? he finished for him, then smiled and shook his head. No.

No, though Troy is very special, also, she took back over. And we really need to leave it at that, okay? Both her folks nodded a bit automatically. They wouldn’t press for an explanation. It was enough to deal with trying to understand her. On down the road, when he never aged, he’d indeed be recognized as ‘special’ but they’d probably still respect his need not to define that. She’d looked little aged, herself, in the coming decades.

Just how much can you control the elements, mo...use, Dad faltered uneasily.

Oh my gods, I’m still your little mouse, Daddy. Rising from Troy’s lap, she moved over to sit on his, wrapped his arm around her. I don’t want this to change anything between us. I love you both, same as ever. Caron reached for her mom’s hand. Even if I have sort of turned into Mighty Mouse. She was rewarded with a little chuckle and snuggle from him. I just didn’t want to have to hide this from you. But to answer your question, I have control over fire and water, static electricity, some over temperature and gravity. I don’t have the power to bring rain, or do more than stir up a very localized breeze. No powers over life and death, though it appears I may be able to accelerate the growth of plants. I haven’t really played around with that much.

You’ve always had an uncommon way with them, he nodded. I always felt they responded to you talking to them. Maybe I should ask you to bless the greenhouses next Spring.

She returned his smile. Dad seemed to be taking this all pretty well. Mom still looked a little like she might faint, one hand pressed to her heart, her mouth slightly gaping. What more can I say, Momma?

Lightly shaking her head, Mom squeezed her hand. It’s just...gracious sakes...a genuine little goddess...I’d always believed in... but...

Still not really processing. An all too familiar feeling lately. I maybe should have waited until after circle to spring this on you. I’m sorry. What had she been thinking? She knew they’d be in shock. She was for days. Had only slowly come to terms with it with Troy’s support and encouragement as they’d explored her newfound talents. Are you going to be okay to go still?

No, no, it’s okay, Mom gamely rallied, with a little more vigorous, thought-clearing shake of her head. I’m happy you felt you could tell us. This is pretty...big.

Troy softly laughed. As promised, he’d pretty much left the talking to her, just sat quietly letting her tell them whatever she felt ready to. Huge, he agreed with a kind smile. He claimed to like her folks and they definitely liked him without him having to exert any influence over them. David they’d accepted into the family because she loved him, appreciated how well he treated her, but had never really warmed to him. Troy couldn’t walk into the house without Mom hugging him. Like mother, like daughter.

He got up and went around the table, took her hand in both of his. Amber, dear. It seemed he couldn’t bring himself to call her ‘Mom’ yet, even though she’d asked him to. It’s a little overwhelming, I know. A lot to process. Tell me where your chamomile is and I’ll make you a cup of tea, then Caron and I will get the car packed up. I want you to just sit here and relax for a few minutes before we go.

No, no, I’ll be fine. No need to fuss over me.

Troy let go with one hand to caress her cheek. I’ll fuss over you if I want to. Now don’t argue with me. Mom. So, are you going to tell me where the chamomile is or should I just go rummage through your cupboards? She gave in and told him.

Caron wasn’t sure if any supernatural influence was at work there. I’ll get it for you. I can suspend an avalanche out of that cupboard if I need to. Mugs are in the one over there.

He retrieved one as she managed to extract the chamomile without all the teas leaping out at her. As she was filling the tea ball, he filled the mug from the tap, then held it up to her. If you wouldn’t mind, elf. Just to speed things along.

She glanced at her parents who’d been simply staring at one another but now looked over curiously, then shrugged. Why not; how much more dazed could they be? Laying a hand over it, she brought the temperature up to just below boiling. She sank the tea ball in as she took the mug over to her mother. I can be kind of handy in the kitchen these days.

I can see that. She sounded calmer, more like her usual self, but didn’t seem to trust herself to keep hold of the steaming mug. Caron set it down in front of her to let it steep. Troy had surely gone into her mind and urged her not to freak out over this. It was probably for the best. She doubted he’d really have overridden her will, forced her acceptance of it; would just have encouraged her to be tranquil and give it time.

Chapter 2

By the time they reached the isolated farm west of Fayetteville where the ritual was being held, about an hour later, Caron’s parents largely seemed to be handling her shocking revelation. Impressed by how Weldon just accepted their foundling daughter was actually an extraordinary half-divine being, Troy had to wonder again whether he might be her real father. And now, too, if perhaps ‘Rhea’ had enchanted him to accept the gifts of this child should they ever manifest. He’d have no more memory of that talk than of being mesmerized to make love to Her.

Amber still looked at her with a dazed sort of wonder as she handed Caron the feast basket. Though Weldon asked a few more questions on the drive, she’d seemed to try to stay focused on the upcoming ritual for the time being. Troy had worried a bit when he went into her mind and found her thoughts locked up on whether their little girl could handle being a ‘freak’, when she’d spent so many years trying to fit in to society after being raised as something of an outsider.

Since they all went in one car, he and Caron hadn’t had much chance to talk, but he should let her know her mother’s concerns. No doubt she already suspected he’d been in Amber’s head. He’d have to assure her that he’d done no more than remind Amber what a strong, confident woman her daughter had grown up to be, who could handle anything life threw at her. Caron might have some objections to even that as she didn’t always see herself that way. Evidently her mother did; it eased her mind considerably. He knew Amber loved her enough that she’d come around in her own time without need of imposing an acceptance. As she’d said, this was big. It would take anyone a while to make the mental adjustments.

Caron lagged back with him as Amber and Weldon headed toward the barn. You’ve been awfully quiet. You’re not uneasy about being here, are you?

Not at all. Somewhat surprisingly. She really was quite precious in her simple black robe and fur-trimmed cloak, little glow-in-the-dark ghosts dangling from her ears. He was enjoying seeing her like this as much as he was glad to be there with her. Just thinking about how things went back at the house.

Better than I feared. She looked askance at him as she took his hand. Which I think maybe you had something to do with.

He reached around her to take the basket from her other hand but didn’t delay their following after another group of darkly cloaked and robed figures headed in the same direction. Just your mom a tiny bit.

Uh-huh. We’ll talk about that later. She didn’t sound upset despite his promising to let her handle the talk.

Weather was always chancy on October thirty-first in this part of the country, could be seventy degrees, could be snowing. Tonight was a crisp, clear, moonless night in the upper forties, and likely to get very cold by midnight. Expectation was that the ritual itself would be outside in order to have a fire, the barn merely for gathering together ahead and the feast to follow. Caron had said the ritual fire would probably be built into a bonfire afterward also.

Despite being one of the few ways he could be destroyed, on the whole, fire didn’t bother him. Even a bonfire wasn’t really unsettling these days, knowing Caron could choke it out in the blink of an eye. There were certainly enough people here to restore him if he got a little charred, he noted as they stepped inside. At least a dozen so far were milling about the place, which was festooned with bright colored leaves and spider webbing, countless jack-o-lanterns and gourds. A realistic human