Firefight in Darkness (7 page)

“Have you had a chance to read
Jane Eyre
?” Capri asked, her hands in the pockets of her dress. She could tell Blythe was in a mood, and she didn’t want to perpetuate it. She had learned in the months that she had known the Fire Dryad that sometimes she preferred to handle things on her own, without the help of others. She could respect that, and she did.

“No. No, honey, I’m sorry, I haven’t yet.” Scolding herself, she turned to look at Capri, sincerely sorry. “I was going to, really, but then…”

At her friend’s questioning look, Blythe made the instantaneous decision to confide in her. Slowing to a stop, she glanced around the corridor to make sure they were alone. She could see Rohan and Serendipity entering the dining hall several yards away, but knew they were out of earshot.

“Well, I went to the library to get the book, and I ran into Nova and Brogan. We had some words, the little brat called me a bitch, and then she said something that for whatever reason bothered me.”

“What was it?”

“The gist of it was that they, she and Brogan, feel that my dad is going to take advantage of our mother. Now, personally, I don’t really care what happens to that monster, and I especially don’t know what he sees in her to begin with. But she was crying, Capri…my stupid little sister who I’ve barely ever even spoken to in my entire goddamn life was crying and it irked me in a way that wasn’t just anger. It made me sad, too. And I have no idea why.”

Considering, Capri studied Blythe’s face, her hands digging out of her pockets to rest on her friend’s shoulders.

“I think the reason it bothered you is that somewhere inside you know how you would feel in her place. If it was Lucian who was being taken advantage of, would you feel helpless and miserable?”

“I would exhaust every option available to help him, and if none of those worked, I’d fight to the death to protect him.” Feeling her chest tighten just at the very thought of it, knowing exactly how she would react, gave her the answer. “But, yes, I’d be miserable every step of the way.”

Capri smiled consolingly, pulling Blythe into her arms. “You feel sorry for Nova. There’s nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t make you weak.”

“No, but it does make me feel like a fool.”

“It shouldn’t.” Capri pulled away, sorrow in her eyes. “And you should consider that your father returning has meant something much different to Nova than it has to you. She had to sacrifice her father for you to have yours, whether she wanted it that way or not. She had no choice, no say. Now she’s trying to protect the only parent she has left against a man she despises.”

“Damnit.” Cursing herself, Blythe tilted her head back and groaned. “I didn’t even think about that. Why the hell didn’t I think about that?”

“You were excited about your own father. There’s nothing wrong with that. But it might be time to try and mend things with her, let her know that you understand how she feels. It might help you to at least talk with her.”

“Yeah, maybe it will.” Sighing deeply, she put her arm around Capri and began walking towards the dining hall once again. “C’mon, let’s go eat. I want to forget about all of this for awhile.”

♦ ♦ ♦

Well, her intention had been to clear her mind for the evening and relax with her favorite people, but it was becoming utterly impossible considering the lovely display her father was putting on for the entire group.

And, by lovely, it was actually more like revolting.

As the whole group gathered in the parlor after dinner like they always did, Blythe seated herself beside Lucian on her favorite comfy sofa and jumped into a debate with him over the true message behind the film
Citizen Kane
. Liam was busy chatting with Clynn about some storm system they were working on, Capri and Rian were snuggled together in the back, Rhiannon was playing a game of chess with Brogan, Thea and Sebastian were pouring more wine for the Fates, and Brock was busy entertaining the three Muses.

While something that should have been completely innocent, Blythe could tell the moment she heard the burst of giggling laughter that rang like choir bells through the room that he wasn’t just telling jokes. He was flirting with them. And from the way his arm was draped over Serendipity’s shoulders, it looked like his main focus was on her.

Irritated, Blythe scanned the room and spotted Rohan hovering in the corner, nursing a glass of brandy and pretending to read a book, though his eyes were locked on his wife and Brock. His face was flushed red with indignation, and for the first time in her entire life, Blythe found herself in complete sympathy with him. And what a shock that was, she thought with an astonished laugh. To know that she actually sided with Rohan on something was revolutionary. But even though she didn’t necessarily like it, she couldn’t help but feel it. It was absolute bullshit the way her father was blatantly hitting on three happily married women. Though he wasn’t touching the others the way he was with Serendipity, Blythe vowed at that moment that if Clarity, Lucian’s wife, made even one sniff in Brock’s direction, she would personally flay her alive.

But, until she saw evidence of such, she could only stand by and observe what was actually occurring.

And that was when she noticed her mother. It wasn’t hard, really, as Nyxa was standing but three feet away from Brock with the other Fates, the wine glass she held clenched so tightly in her hand that her knuckles were bright white. Her pale face was flushed and her dark eyes were madder than usual. But it wasn’t either of those things that startled Blythe. Those were both normal and easily handled. No, what startled her was the blatant longing mixed with the anguish in her eyes.

Nova was standing beside their mother, her eyes shifting to Blythe’s when she noticed her staring. She did little to hold back the bitterness from showing on her face.

And those eyes, dark and rounded and melancholy, held hers for several long moments before Lucian touched her arm and startled her.

“Are you alright, honeypot?” He asked her quietly, his hand resting on her forearm.

“You know what? No, I’m not.” She said suddenly, her mind instantly made up on what she wanted to do. “Excuse me.”

She rose from the sofa and walked purposefully towards where Brock was standing, her head held high. When she reached him, she had to nudge herself by the Muses to put herself in his line of sight.

“I’m sorry, ladies, but I need to have a word with the gentleman. If you’ll excuse us.” She said regally, smiling as she grabbed her father’s arm and proceeded to tug him out of the room.

“Babydoll, can’t this wait till later? I was halfway through my joke about the elephant and the mouse.”

“Nope, it can’t wait.” She shut the door to the parlor so they could be alone in the empty dining hall. Whirling around to face him, she jabbed a finger into his chest, her eyes on fire. “You need to shape up. I’m tired of training you and expecting things of you and not having you deliver. Either you give it one hundred percent, or you give it nothing, I’m not going to play this game with you. And, to answer the question I know you’re dying to ask, I’m not joking.”

“I’ve been trying, Blythe, Jesus. Don’t you think maybe you’ve been pushing me too hard?” Anger flashed in his eyes, coupled with the annoyance on his face. She could tell that he very clearly thought she was being overdramatic. Well, if he didn’t want to take this seriously, then he was going to see just how overdramatic she could be.

“You know, I don’t think that asking you to show up on time and actually give a damn about learning the important stuff is really asking all that much. I get that you want time to relax and enjoy being home, but we only meet for five, six hours out of the day. You have plenty of free time as it is. You seriously can’t devote even five measly hours to, huh, the purpose of your existence?”

“You know, kiddo, I love you, but you’re one tough cookie. Maybe it’s best if we put this work stuff on hold for awhile. I’ll get the kinks out of my system, and then we can get back to work. Is that alright with you?”

She was silent for a moment, fighting tooth and nail to hold back the barrage of snippy comments she wanted to hurl his way. Teeth clenched, she sucked in a breath and slowly exhaled before speaking again.

“Fine. One week, no more. Goodnight.”

She turned on her heel and left the room, leaving him behind looking both pleased and confused by how easily she had given in.

The truth of it was, she was worn out. Worn out from him, worn out from worrying about her sister, worn out from trying to understand everyone else’s feelings while ignoring her own. But the fact of the matter was that it was just downright impossible for her to ignore her own feelings, her own heart. She was too damn stubborn to let that happen.

She slammed the door to her bedroom and threw herself down upon the bed, and prayed for sleep to come quickly so she could just stop thinking.

♦ ♦ ♦

Sleep was not restful. In fact, her dreams were perhaps more chaotic than her reality. In them she was a warrior, a general perched on a regal black horse decked out in all kinds of shiny, glittery chains and armor. She wore war paint all over her body, and her red curly hair circled her face like a bloody halo.

Around her, men screamed, and men died. Her soldiers, her warriors, fought valiantly at her command, hurling their wicked swords into the fray with violence in their eyes. She herself was fighting, lashing out with a whip made of fire, scorching any who dare come close to her. Her battle cry rang out against the smoke filled sky, the flag of her allegiance billowing beside her like a beacon. Yes, this was her fight, her battle, her legacy. She would do everything she could to protect it.

But when a dark black mass of smoke approached from over the horizon, coming closer at speeds that seemed impossible, she heard her men scream in terror instead of exhilaration as they turned tail and ran. Determined to stand her ground, she kept her frightened horse in place and faced the onslaught of mysterious darkness alone.

And when it swallowed her whole, the last thing she heard was her own scream.

Jolting awake, she clutched at the blankets around her and panted, her chest heaving uncontrollably as she fought to regain control of her mind. Sweat dripped down her face, down her back, causing her shirt to stick to her skin. Real terror gripped her heart, and it took all the strength she had to fight it back.

Chilled to the bone, she collapsed against her pillows and covered her face with her hands, her breathing shallow and her throat tight.

She had never in her life had a dream quite like that. Correction, she had never in her life had a nightmare quite like that.

Repulsed by the images of death and destruction that kept replaying over and over in her mind, she threw off her blankets and padded into her bathroom, splashing cold water on her face and neck.

Stripping off her shirt, she threw it on the ground and quickly grabbed another, wanting to rid herself of the sweat. Annoyed that she was still shaky, she headed back into the bedroom and paused in front of her clock.

Midnight. The witching hour.

Because she didn’t feel the least bit tired any longer, she threw on her robe and decided to go outside for some fresh air. Maybe a walk in the moonlight would help clear her mind.

Shutting her bedroom door quietly behind her, she padded down the hallway, passing Liam and Capri’s rooms as softly as she could so as not to wake them. She went down the stairs and out into the main corridor, her eyes adjusting to the relative darkness.

At night, only some of the torches were lit, so most of the lighting came from the moonlight. The white beams cascaded through the stained glass windows at either end of the corridor, making the stone castle seem mysterious and more than a little eerie.

Clutching her robe tighter around her, she headed towards the Atrium. When she heard a shuffling sound and a muffled giggle, she paused, instantly thinking of Capri and Rian.

Curious, but not wanting to disturb them, she leaned around the corner carefully, just enough so she could see into the Atrium.

At first she couldn’t see much of anything, but then she saw two figures pressed up against the stone wall, silhouetted in the moonlight. When she looked closer, she was momentarily confused. Rian wasn’t that tall…

And when she heard the man’s murmuring voice, and the woman’s delighted giggle, she felt her heart fall straight to the floor even as her blood began to boil with fury.

Incensed, she lifted her palm and shot fire into the torches so that that section of the corridor was lit.

When she could see more than just the silhouettes of her father and Serendipity, she noted with disgust that he had one hand up her blouse and the other hiked up high on her thigh as he pressed against her.

They jolted apart, both staring in disbelief at Blythe, who now stood at the head of the corridor, her hands fisted on her hips and her head shaking in revulsion.

“This is just terrific, isn’t it?” She snarled, her eyes on fire.

When she saw Serendipity struggle to fix her clothing and smooth out her hair, unbridled fear and embarrassment on her face, Blythe couldn’t help but think of Rohan and what this was going to do to him.

Brock was glaring at Blythe angrily, his hands lifting and lowering as if he couldn’t figure out quite what to do with them. When she saw him clench his fists, she silently dared him to even try.

“This is none of your business, Blythe. Go on up to bed.”

“You know what, this is my business, dad. You want to know why?”

When he didn’t say anything, she continued.

“I never thought I’d say this, but you’re fooling around on my mother, and it pisses me off. And Serendipity’s fooling around on Rohan, which also pisses me off. Funny, because I can’t stand my mother or Rohan, but I’m going to have to tell them both about this in order to have a clear conscience.”

“You can’t!” Serendipity shrieked, her face drained of color as she jolted forward towards Blythe, her arms outstretched in an urgent plea. “Please, don’t tell my husband. This was a onetime thing, it doesn’t mean anything.”