Chapter 20 - The End
CHAPTER 20
My intention of sending Lucas to the living room is a good one but, in the end I don’t do it. Not because I have no self-control - which I don’t - but because we are both too exhausted and fall asleep before either one of us means to. I realize this because when I wake up in the middle of the night, Lucas is beside me, fully clothed as he is a knight.
It isn’t Lucas’ presence that wakes me up, though. It is a disturbance, a feeling that something just isn’t right. I feel like I have had enough of that for a lifetime, but I know better than to think that just because I finished off Eoin, I am finished completely.
The disturbance comes in the form of a sort of tugging, a pull that reaches through the dark, sleeping household and the empty shop. Something - or maybe someone - wants my attention. I glance at Lucas. I could wake him up, but after everything I have done, I doubt there is a situation that I won’t be able to handle. Better to let him have a few hours of peace.
Slipping out of bed, I grab Gae Buidhe from the nightstand. I carry the bare blade in my hand and make my way through the unlit hallway and down the stairs, following the call of someone’s magic.
My pulse picks up as I step into the shop. The magic here is strong, stronger than some watching drones, stronger even than my aunts. It is not particularly threatening, but there is something there, an undercurrent of danger, that makes me grip the blade tighter.
The fairy lights strung across the ceiling lend a dim glow to the room. They were definitely off when we headed to bed. The lights are probably the least crazy thing that has happened today, though.
Taking a deep breath, I step over the threshold ready to meet whatever - whoever - is in here. Until I’m not. Nope. I definitely do not want to go in there.
A woman walks slowly through the room, her hand reaching out to touch pretty much everything - the tables, the lights, the old-fashioned sideboard and its piles of mismatched cups and bowls and plates. She lingers over everything, her hand hovering, like she is trying to remember something which, of course, she is.
“Hey,” I say. It’s not exactly the most eloquent way of addressing my once dead mother for the first time, but it’s been a rough day.
She spins and smiles at me. I would have known Taryn Byrnes and I were related no matter where we met. She has the same features as the rest of us: curling black hair, green eyes, fair complexion. She looks about a million times more rested than me and Miranda, though. I suspect being such a powerful Ripper has its advantages.
“Ah, Tristan. My daughter.” She says it without emotion and definitely not like someone who is meeting her only child for the first time. I would hurt by that if I hadn’t written her off as a parent about the time she sent killers for me and my friends.
“What do you want?”
She steps closer like she wants a better look at me, but leaves a safe space between us.
“Merely to meet my offspring, the young lady who single-handedly killed one of my finest associates. He was quite a loss, our Eoin.”
I think back to my conversation with Lucas. “I somehow think if he were that important you could have stepped in and helped him out.”
She shrugs. “People in my employ need to fight their own battles, otherwise why would I have them? Besides, I wanted to see what you would do.”
“I could have been killed.”
My mother drops her head to the side. “Yes, you could have. But you were not.”
“Mother of the Year material right there,” I observe.
She laughs lightly. “You will have to forgive me. I have very little experience being a parent.”
“Obviously. Again, why are you here?”
“I am here to repeat my proposal.”
I frown. “Eoin’s proposal?”
“He was, of course, speaking for me. Tristan, how could you possibly want to stay here,” she gestures around the room with an expression of mild disgust, “when you and I could rule the world together?”
“Like I said, you tried to kill me and, you know, you did kill your own mother. That’s not a good basis for a trusting relationship.”
“Regrettable, but necessary. Also, how do you know I did not save you?”
“Right, so the answer is no.”
Taryn’s lips close in a tight, thin line. She is not pleased.
“You say, Tristan, that you do not trust me.”
“I do not,” I answer. The statement seems like a little bit of a non-starter.
“And yet you trust the people in here.” She waves her hand around the shop.
“I do.”
“The people who lied to you. Who kept your powers hidden from you which, in and of itself, put you and those you care for in a great deal of danger.”
“They were doing what they thought was right.” Damn. I should not be explaining myself to this woman, this stranger who abandoned me. “You should leave.” I feel like I’m starting to lose the upper hand here. I need to get this over with. “I gave you my answer. If I want power, I will earn it on my own. I don’t want to share and, more than anything, I don’t want to work with you.”
“Because you want to protect your loving family. The family who lied…”
“You said that already.”
“The beloved grandmother who kept my existence a secret from you all your life.”
The words stab at my chest. I squeeze the blade of the dagger.
“You didn’t guess that?” My mother makes a face like she thinks I am the most pathetic of pathetic losers. “That’s right,” she continues. “She knew of my existence all along. She orchestrated that little accident in the hope that I would disappear. She wanted you for herself, Tristan. She even killed your father, poor dear.”
I blink away the tears of frustration and rage I feel prickling behind my eyes.
“You. Are. Lying,” I insist. But is she? Is it too much to believe that Nana wanted me away from a psychotic, power crazy woman? My father, though. What about him? The words I have used a few times lately shoot through my brain: collateral damage.
It is too much. This whole day. The dying. My grandmother. Cutting off Eoin’s head. I need this woman out of here before I let her convince me that her lies are true, that what she wants is for the two of us to ride off into the sunset, wielding our tremendous power. Good versus evil, Lucas told me. No matter how much I want to change things in my life, I don’t think I’m willing to tip the balance to my mother’s side of the equation.
The floor upstairs creaks like someone is headed this way. The footsteps are heavy. Of course Lucas knows what is going on. We shared our blood.
My mother smirks and looks up at the ceiling.
“Ah, the Watcher. Brave, sweet Lucas. Has he told you about us yet?”
Us? My stomach twists. What she is suggesting is downright revolting.
“Oh yes, Tristan. He was my Watcher way before he was yours. Didn’t he tell you that? A Watcher,” she leans in, “and so much more.” She laughs and the footsteps above are heavier, faster, reaching the stairs.
“It seems Lucas has a lot of explaining to do, so I will leave you two alone. But I will be around, Tristan. Our conversation is far from over.”
Without so much as a flick of the wrist the door flies open and my mother is swallowed up by the dark and the cold.
Someone crashes into the room.
I turn to face my Watcher.
My intention of sending Lucas to the living room is a good one but, in the end I don’t do it. Not because I have no self-control - which I don’t - but because we are both too exhausted and fall asleep before either one of us means to. I realize this because when I wake up in the middle of the night, Lucas is beside me, fully clothed as he is a knight.
It isn’t Lucas’ presence that wakes me up, though. It is a disturbance, a feeling that something just isn’t right. I feel like I have had enough of that for a lifetime, but I know better than to think that just because I finished off Eoin, I am finished completely.
The disturbance comes in the form of a sort of tugging, a pull that reaches through the dark, sleeping household and the empty shop. Something - or maybe someone - wants my attention. I glance at Lucas. I could wake him up, but after everything I have done, I doubt there is a situation that I won’t be able to handle. Better to let him have a few hours of peace.
Slipping out of bed, I grab Gae Buidhe from the nightstand. I carry the bare blade in my hand and make my way through the unlit hallway and down the stairs, following the call of someone’s magic.
My pulse picks up as I step into the shop. The magic here is strong, stronger than some watching drones, stronger even than my aunts. It is not particularly threatening, but there is something there, an undercurrent of danger, that makes me grip the blade tighter.
The fairy lights strung across the ceiling lend a dim glow to the room. They were definitely off when we headed to bed. The lights are probably the least crazy thing that has happened today, though.
Taking a deep breath, I step over the threshold ready to meet whatever - whoever - is in here. Until I’m not. Nope. I definitely do not want to go in there.
A woman walks slowly through the room, her hand reaching out to touch pretty much everything - the tables, the lights, the old-fashioned sideboard and its piles of mismatched cups and bowls and plates. She lingers over everything, her hand hovering, like she is trying to remember something which, of course, she is.
“Hey,” I say. It’s not exactly the most eloquent way of addressing my once dead mother for the first time, but it’s been a rough day.
She spins and smiles at me. I would have known Taryn Byrnes and I were related no matter where we met. She has the same features as the rest of us: curling black hair, green eyes, fair complexion. She looks about a million times more rested than me and Miranda, though. I suspect being such a powerful Ripper has its advantages.
“Ah, Tristan. My daughter.” She says it without emotion and definitely not like someone who is meeting her only child for the first time. I would hurt by that if I hadn’t written her off as a parent about the time she sent killers for me and my friends.
“What do you want?”
She steps closer like she wants a better look at me, but leaves a safe space between us.
“Merely to meet my offspring, the young lady who single-handedly killed one of my finest associates. He was quite a loss, our Eoin.”
I think back to my conversation with Lucas. “I somehow think if he were that important you could have stepped in and helped him out.”
She shrugs. “People in my employ need to fight their own battles, otherwise why would I have them? Besides, I wanted to see what you would do.”
“I could have been killed.”
My mother drops her head to the side. “Yes, you could have. But you were not.”
“Mother of the Year material right there,” I observe.
She laughs lightly. “You will have to forgive me. I have very little experience being a parent.”
“Obviously. Again, why are you here?”
“I am here to repeat my proposal.”
I frown. “Eoin’s proposal?”
“He was, of course, speaking for me. Tristan, how could you possibly want to stay here,” she gestures around the room with an expression of mild disgust, “when you and I could rule the world together?”
“Like I said, you tried to kill me and, you know, you did kill your own mother. That’s not a good basis for a trusting relationship.”
“Regrettable, but necessary. Also, how do you know I did not save you?”
“Right, so the answer is no.”
Taryn’s lips close in a tight, thin line. She is not pleased.
“You say, Tristan, that you do not trust me.”
“I do not,” I answer. The statement seems like a little bit of a non-starter.
“And yet you trust the people in here.” She waves her hand around the shop.
“I do.”
“The people who lied to you. Who kept your powers hidden from you which, in and of itself, put you and those you care for in a great deal of danger.”
“They were doing what they thought was right.” Damn. I should not be explaining myself to this woman, this stranger who abandoned me. “You should leave.” I feel like I’m starting to lose the upper hand here. I need to get this over with. “I gave you my answer. If I want power, I will earn it on my own. I don’t want to share and, more than anything, I don’t want to work with you.”
“Because you want to protect your loving family. The family who lied…”
“You said that already.”
“The beloved grandmother who kept my existence a secret from you all your life.”
The words stab at my chest. I squeeze the blade of the dagger.
“You didn’t guess that?” My mother makes a face like she thinks I am the most pathetic of pathetic losers. “That’s right,” she continues. “She knew of my existence all along. She orchestrated that little accident in the hope that I would disappear. She wanted you for herself, Tristan. She even killed your father, poor dear.”
I blink away the tears of frustration and rage I feel prickling behind my eyes.
“You. Are. Lying,” I insist. But is she? Is it too much to believe that Nana wanted me away from a psychotic, power crazy woman? My father, though. What about him? The words I have used a few times lately shoot through my brain: collateral damage.
It is too much. This whole day. The dying. My grandmother. Cutting off Eoin’s head. I need this woman out of here before I let her convince me that her lies are true, that what she wants is for the two of us to ride off into the sunset, wielding our tremendous power. Good versus evil, Lucas told me. No matter how much I want to change things in my life, I don’t think I’m willing to tip the balance to my mother’s side of the equation.
The floor upstairs creaks like someone is headed this way. The footsteps are heavy. Of course Lucas knows what is going on. We shared our blood.
My mother smirks and looks up at the ceiling.
“Ah, the Watcher. Brave, sweet Lucas. Has he told you about us yet?”
Us? My stomach twists. What she is suggesting is downright revolting.
“Oh yes, Tristan. He was my Watcher way before he was yours. Didn’t he tell you that? A Watcher,” she leans in, “and so much more.” She laughs and the footsteps above are heavier, faster, reaching the stairs.
“It seems Lucas has a lot of explaining to do, so I will leave you two alone. But I will be around, Tristan. Our conversation is far from over.”
Without so much as a flick of the wrist the door flies open and my mother is swallowed up by the dark and the cold.
Someone crashes into the room.
I turn to face my Watcher.
The end??? but!!! I can only assume this will be a series??? At least i hope so, i must know what lucas has to say for himself
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