Burning for You (Blackwater) (10 page)

“You did this,” she says, unable to
look away from the chaos.  Glass is everywhere, embedded in the furniture and
smashed in shards all over the floor.  “You,” she repeats.  “It’s your fault. 
I can’t believe this, Leah.”

“It just happened!” I exclaim,
finding it ridiculous that she brought my asshole ex into the house and now
she’s yelling at me for a chandelier that broke without my intervention.  “I
didn’t touch it.”

“You made this happen,” she says
through clenched teeth, turning to me.  I’ve never seen her look so angry. 
Usually her face is a mask to hide her feelings, but they are all completely
visible now.  Her ice blue eyes practically burn holes in my face from the
hatred that seems to blaze from them.  “You made this happen,” she repeats,
“which means you’ve found your catalyst.  Which means I’m never going to get
you to leave Blackwater.”

“So you admit it!” I shout,
stepping back from her to make eye contact.  It’s impossible when she’s
standing right next to me and I’m looming over her with my height.  “You’ve
always tried to drive me out!  I can’t believe this!”

“Of course I’ve tried to keep you
away,” she hisses.  She steps a few feet into the room, skirting around the broken
glass and sinks into the same chair I had stood behind an hour ago.  “You have
no idea, Leah, what I need to protect you from.”

I hesitate, finding her words the
complete opposite of what I have always thought to be true.  “What do you mean,
Mother?” I ask her quietly.  I step into the room and walk directly across the
broken glass, making it a point not to flinch like I’m walking directly across
hot coals.  I’m still wearing my interview heels and hear the glass crunch
beneath them.  Taking a seat across the room from my mother, I stare her down. 
“What do you need to protect me from?  If you’re so concerned about my safety,
you probably shouldn’t be throwing me back into a relationship with Michael.”

“Whatever he’s done can’t be as bad
as what will happen to you if you stay here,” my mother replies, looking away
from me. 

I’m quiet for a few seconds.  “I
doubt that,” I finally say quietly.  “You don’t even know what he’s done.”

“I mean it, Leah!” she exclaims. 
“Whatever it may be…cheating, sex, drugs, money, I don’t know, whatever.  It
won’t be as bad as what’s in store for you if you stay here.”

“You keep saying that, but unless
you tell me what it is, I can’t believe it,” I say.  “You’ve always pushed me
away and shut me out.  I’m an adult, Mother, and I think I’m ready to hear
whatever it is you have to say and what you’ve been trying to hide for so long.”

“I know you are,” she says.  “But
I’m not ready to tell you.”  I roll my eyes.  I can practically feel the heat
escaping out of my ears, I’m so livid.

“Don’t interfere in my life again,”
I warn her.  “You have no right to have brought Michael here.  You don’t know
the hell I’ve been through, being married to him.  It took every nerve I have
to leave him and come back to a place where I’ve never felt welcome.”

“I had to push you away to protect
you, Leah!” my mother cries out, clearly frustrated.  I’ve never seen her
composure so compromised.  “Your father…he…”

“What about Dad?” I demand to know,
feeling my entire body stiffen at the mention of him.  “Tell me, Mother, what
you were going to say.”  My words escape in staccato through my clenched jaw. 

“I know you went to Chicago to look
for him,” my mother says softly.  “And I let you believe that he left us and
went there.”  A loose lock of her golden hair has escaped her chignon, and she
pushes it behind her ear.  It causes her face to lose some severity.  She looks
so young and lost, thinking about the father I miss so terribly, who left us so
suddenly.  “He didn’t want to leave us, Leah, but his job came first.”

“As police chief?” I ask
incredulously.  “I find that hard to believe.”

She shakes her head.  “His…Coven
job.”

“Coven?”

She sighs histrionically.  “You
know nothing and it’s my fault.  Honestly, things would be better if you never
found out about any of this.  If you’d stayed in Chicago, you wouldn’t have met
your catalyst and you’d never have known you could craft.”

“I’ve always known, Mother,” I say
softly.  “Or at least, suspected something.  You’ve let people in our home for
years and told them things that no ordinary person could know.  And Isabel,
too, she always knew everything.”

She nods.  “It’s true, there were
some things you grew up around and were exposed to.  But Leah, if you knew
everything, you would run back to Chicago and forget you ever knew any of us.”

“But I can’t do that now,” I say. 
I pause.  “You say I’ve met my catalyst.  And according to Isabel, that
‘ignites’ me.”  My mother nods.  “Had I never met him, I wouldn’t be able to….”

“Craft?” my mother offers.  I nod. 
“No, probably not.  Maybe a little bit, but your true power isn’t realized
until you find your catalyst.  And my living room wouldn’t be a death trap,
currently.”

I start to laugh, perhaps more in
shock that my mother made what seems to be an actual joke.  She doesn’t join
me, obviously not seeing the humor in her own words.  “So what if my catalyst
is seeing someone else?” I want to know. 

My mother raises a delicate golden
eyebrow.  “Leah, do I really need to explain what meaningless sex is to you at
your age?”

“Oh god, please don’t,” I say,
flushing.  “I get it.”

“It’s all well and good to be with
someone who isn’t your catalyst,” my mother explains.  “But if two crafters who
aren’t catalysts ever potentially reproduce, the result of that union could be
fatal.”

I frown.  “I’m not sure what you
mean.  Like a miscarriage?”

She shakes her head.  “I’m talking
about the dangers of two crafters who aren’t compatible producing a child.  The
child could be dangerous and out of control.”

“I see,” I say, though my grasp on
everything is shaky.  “And that happens?”

My mother nods.  Her hands tremble
as she brings them to her neck to twist her pearls around nervously.  “Gabriel
Locke,” she whispers.

I put my head in my heads.  I feel
like my brain might explode.  “This is too much information at once, and I need
to back up.  Let’s go back to Dad.  What job are you referring to?”

“Your father was the Keeper of the
Legend,” she tells me in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Of, oh course,” I say sarcastically. 
“How silly of me to not have known that!  Is there a children’s book that
explains all of this, sort of like those books normal parents give their
children to explain puberty and dying pets and stuff?”

“The Legend,” she goes on, ignoring
my outburst, “is the only book you’d ever need to understand everything about
the Coven.  It is your father’s job to keep that book safe and protected and
out of the wrong hands.  He is the Keeper.”

“This is starting to sound like
Ghostbusters,” I say. 

“You are asking the questions, and
I’m doing my best to explain them,” my mother says, her voice raises slightly in
a sing-song pitch to indicate her irritation with me.  “If you’re going to stay
in Blackwater, you will need to understand what sort of danger you’re in.”

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.  “You’re
right.  I’m just still angry about…everything.  Seeing Michael has me on edge. 
The chandelier exploding was the icing on the cake.”

“I’m not exactly thrilled about
that either,” she agrees, smirking.  “That was a Maria Theresa crystal and fourteen
karat gold chandelier.  I doubt I’ll be able to find a replacement easily.”

“I get it, I get it,” I say,
rolling my eyes for what seems like the fortieth time during this conversation. 
“Again, I’m sorry.” 

My mother waves a hand
dismissively.  “Leah, you need to understand, all I’ve ever wanted for you is
your safety.  Your father and I didn’t choose what we are, but we’ve had to
make the best of it.  Nothing is what we’ve decided.  I’ve never made a
decision in my life about what I’ve wanted, it’s all been preordained for me. 
You can’t choose your catalyst.  You can’t choose your elemental.  Your father
didn’t choose to be Keeper, the Legend chose him.  I don’t understand it very
well because only a true Keeper can know what it means to protect the Legend.”

“What is the Legend?” I say. 
“You’re jumping all over the place.  Let’s start there.”

“Oh Leah,” she breathes.  “The
Legend is everything.  The origins of the Coven.  Folklore and history. 
Spells.  Potions.  It’s also maintained by the Keeper, who must record births,
deaths, and inductions of all Coven members.”

“And the Coven is what, exactly?” I
want to know. 

“The Coven is something you’re born
into,” my mother explains.  “I was born into it, your father was born into it,
and you were born into it.  It simply means you have an elemental that gives
you the ability to craft.”

“What about Heidi?” I interject.

She pauses.  “Heidi is not a
crafter.  She never will be.”

“How do you know that?” I ask her.

“The same way I know that a baby
will be a girl, or that you were coming back to Blackwater, or that you were
marrying a monster,” she says, looking straight at me.  “I just know.”

“How did you know about Michael?” I
ask her quietly.  “And why didn’t you stop me?”

She shakes her head, looking away
from me.  I swear there are tears in her eyes.  “I didn’t want you to come back
and experience what I’ve experienced living here.  I thought you could go away
and start a life for yourself outside of Blackwater.”

“Why not, Mother?” I say, feeling
my jaw clench in anger.  “This is my world.  If I’m a crafter, if my catalyst
is here, why shouldn’t I be a part of it?”

“This is the only world I know,” my
mother says.  “It’s brought me nothing but pain.  Because of this world, I
don’t get to be with the man I love.  Because of this world, I know things I
never wanted to know.  Is it so wrong to try and keep you out of it?”

“Yes,” I say.  “It is.  You’ve
deprived me of what is also supposed to be my world.  And also, think of my
catalyst,” I remind her.  “By trying to keep me away, you were depriving him.”

“Ash Lavanne,” my mother says,
breathing in.  “He’s the one.  I’ve always known that.”

I nod, not questioning how she
could have known.  “I felt…changed, when I met him.”

“You’re drawn to him,” she says. 
“The same way I was drawn to your father.  I should have known better than to
think I could keep you away.  It was wrong of me to believe I had control over
anything.”

“So what about Gabe?” I ask her. 
“You say he’s a result of two incompatible crafters?”

“Exactly,” she says.  “Not that two
elementals can’t be combined.  Your father was a fire elemental and I’m a water
elemental.  You’ve always had more of him in you than of me, so I’m not
surprised you’re a fire elemental.”  I nod, remembering Isabel saying something
similar.  “It’s not always, but it does happen.  Gabe’s father is Oscar Locke. 
Oscar is the same.  A reaper.  He found one of the most powerful crafters and
took her against her will.  Gabe is the result.”

“Who was the woman?” I ask.  “Not
you?”

“Oh no,” my mother assures me, much
to my relief.  She stares at me and then lowers her eyes and sighs.  “It was
Lisette Lavanne, Ash’s mother.”

It’s been a week since my mother
and I had our talk.  Since the day Michael came and threatened me, I’ve been on
edge ever since.  I feel like I’m in limbo, in a constant state of fearing what
might be around the corner, whether it’s Gabe the reaper or Michael the
asshole.

My mother and I seem to have come
to an understanding in our relationship, as long as I don’t bring up the Maria
Theresa chandelier.  We haven’t spoken much since we sat down in the living
room full of broken glass and she told me everything I wanted to know, but I still
have so many questions.  Unfortunately I’ve been so consumed by my new job at
Blackwater Memorial Hospital that I haven’t had much time to spend talking to
her, working long hours to clean up the mess that the two ladies in the billing
department have made.

The two billing analysts I’ve been
asked to assist and potentially supervise are Kelly Price and Linda Vine. 
Kelly is in her early twenties and originally wanted to be a nurse, but ended
up realizing that she actually hates people, which means she and I hit it off
right away.  She’s a feisty redhead with bright green eyes and the ability to
stuff her face with chocolate every ten minutes and never gain a pound.  Heidi
would despise her. 

Linda is my challenge.  She’s
likely been doing the billing since Winston Churchill was prime minister of England
and is incredibly set in her ways.  I’m guessing she’s in her seventies, and
that’s being generous.  Even though she works in a hospital, she smokes like a
chimney and reeks of it.  Her voice is like sandpaper, and she hasn’t figured
out that she has been putting her wig on backward ever since she purchased it. 
Kelly told me this on my first official day when Linda stepped out for a three
cigarette break and now it’s all I notice about Linda is her damn backwards wig. 
I had a friend in Chicago who was a drag queen and told me that he would do
that for bigger hair, but I’m pretty sure that’s not quite what Linda has in
mind.  I can’t have a conversation with her without staring at her hairline the
entire time. 

The billing department is actually
one long desk in the center of the fourth floor kiosk, with four workstations. 
The extra station is empty, while Kelly, Linda and I occupy the other three.  I
sit between Kelly and Linda, acting as an unofficial supervisor, per Gwen’s
advice.  The nice part about our setup is that we can easily communicate by
rolling our chairs over to each other to ask questions and train and learn. 
The worst part is that we’re pretty much right in the middle of the ICU, which
means that the number of dead or dying people that get pushed by our desk is
definitely more than I’m comfortable with.  That part makes me miss working in
an office environment, but the hospital environment looks great on my resume
and it’s probably the only job in Blackwater that’s perfect for me.