The Last Dream Keeper (15 page)

Dev's stomach turned, her mind trying to figure out who among them fit the bill of The Fool.

“I wonder if Eleanora and Hessika might have some thoughts on this.”

Her mother set her teacup down in its saucer and stared at Dev.

“What do you mean?”

Dev swallowed, not sure how best to broach the subject, but then she decided to just be blunt:

“Mom, they're both Dream Walkers . . . and they want to speak to you.”

Dev was glad Melisande had already set her teacup down. Otherwise, she was certain her mother would've spilled the hot liquid all over the table.

*   *   *

The information was no sooner out of Dev's mouth then Melisande had insisted they go upstairs and wake Marji. Now the three of them sat in a semicircle in the middle of Marji's bedroom floor—Marji and Dev still in their nightclothes—and waited for the ghosts to make themselves known.

“Mama?” Marji asked. “Why can I see them and you guys can't?”

Her elder daughter looked so tired and woebegone sitting in between them that it made Dev sad. She reached over and tucked a strand of loose hair behind Marji's ear.

“I don't know, sweet pea,” she said. “But maybe it's because you're special. You can see things that others can't and it's a good thing, not bad.”

Marji's face puckered up like she'd eaten something tart.

“But it's scary sometimes,” she said, and rested her head on Dev's shoulder. “I don't like it.”

Melisande reached out and patted Marji's arm.

“God only gives us what we can handle, Marji-May,” she said, and smiled at her granddaughter. “The scary stuff is what makes us stronger. I promise you that.”

Marji nodded, but her big eyes were wide with uncertainty—and then a cold chill shot through the room.

“They're here,” Marji said, staring at something on the other side of the room. “The tall lady and Auntie E.”

Dev caught her mother's eye.

“It's been so long, Eleanora,” Melisande said. “I wish I could see you. I'm jealous of Marji's abilities.”

Marji grinned, then looked over at her grandmother.

“What's so funny?” Dev asked.

“Auntie E said Grammie's haircut makes her look like the Flying Nun.” She turned back to Dev. “Who's the Flying Nun, Mama?”

Melisande snorted.

“Ha! I'll take it. Just so long as she doesn't call me Gidget . . .” She winked at Marji.

“Auntie E says she wouldn't wish Gidget on anybody. Even Grammie,” Marji said, but it was clear she didn't quite understand what she was repeating.

“C'mere,” Dev said, patting the spot in front of her. Marji didn't need to be asked twice; she crawled into Dev's lap and burrowed in.

It was getting colder by the minute and Dev shivered, wrapping her arms around Marji.

“I'm not cold, Mama,” Marji said, wiggling out of Dev's embrace. Then: “The tall lady says that we need all the Montrose women here—and that we have to listen to Thomas. Especially you, Mama.”

Melisande shot Dev a look.

“Who's Thomas?” she asked.

Dev opened her mouth to reply, but Marji answered for her.

“He was good and then he was bad and then he was good again, Grammie. Mama tied him up and I think it hurt him a little.”

“He's the one in the Mucho Man Cave,” Dev added to clarify—which only made Melisande shake her head. “The one who broke into our house . . . ?”

She'd told her mother about the break-in, but what had been said on the phone was now clearly forgotten.

“No, I remember that, Devandra,” Melisande replied, her tone sharp. “There was just . . . someone . . . a long time ago.”

Marji began nodding, her eyes narrowed as she listened intently.

“The tall lady says that it's your Tommy. That's why they
wanted to talk to you, Grammie. So you didn't get your heart hurt when you see him. 'Cause he looks just the same.”

Dev watched the color drain from her mother's face.

“No.”

Marji was still listening to the Dream Walkers, so she didn't see her grandmother's distress, but Dev did.

“Mom, are you okay—”

Melisande shook her head, then raised her hand for Dev to hold on.

“It's . . . just give me a moment.”

Dev gave her mother some space, returning her attention to Marji.

“Uh-huh,” Marji murmured, concentrating on whatever Eleanora and Hessika were saying to her. “Uh-huh. Okay. I'll tell her.”

She turned to look at her grandmother.

“Grammie?”

“Yes, dear heart,” Melisande said, managing a weak smile.

“It's not his fault. He couldn't tell you, but he's not from here. Auntie E says not to be mad at him.”

“The tarot spread?” Dev asked. “Who is The Fool? Do you know?”

Marji shook her head.

“They don't know, Mama. Eleanora says she's been worried about that one. It's been on her mind a lot. She believes that Lyse is The Magician . . . but who The Fool is, she just doesn't know.”

Dev nodded.

“Eleanora? What do you mean . . . it wasn't his fault?” Melisande asked, but Marji bit her lip and scrunched her eyebrows together.

“They had to go, Grammie. They're not here anymore.”

Dev realized she was no longer cold, that the chill had left the room along with the two Dream Walkers she couldn't see. She squeezed Marji tight, proud of her.

“You did good, sweet pea,” Dev said, stroking Marji's hair.

“Thanks, Mama,” her daughter murmured, then quickly squirmed out of her lap. “I'm gonna go make Frosted Flakes.”

Marji crawled to her feet and slipped on her fuzzy duck head slippers.

“It's not so scary,” she added, and bounded for the door, leaving Dev and Melisande alone in the room.

“Mom . . . ?” Dev asked.

“I'm okay,” Melisande replied. “It's fine. I'm just grateful to Eleanora for telling me.”

Dev pulled at the hem of her robe, trying not to look at her mother as she asked the only question that was on her mind: “Who is he, Mom?”

Melisande sighed, rubbing at her mouth with her hand. Dev knew what this meant—her mom was trying to decide what information to divulge.

“He was . . . is . . . someone who was very important to me,” Melisande began. “From before I met your father—and then one day he just disappeared and I never saw him again. That's it. There's nothing more to say that isn't personal between him and me. Stuff that's not for sharing. Even with one of my favorite daughters.”

“Ha!” Dev said, and laughed. “We're all your favorite daughters.”

Her mother smiled.

“You know all my tricks, Devandra.”

Dev wished she could agree with her mom, but, sadly, she understood the opposite only too well: As hard as you tried, you could never really know
anyone
.

*   *   *

“Hello, Melisande.”

Thomas was still mostly bound to his chair, but Freddy had taken pity on him and freed one of his hands. Now he was holding an aluminum can of Pabst Blue Ribbon that
was ensconced in a foam coozie emblazoned with the words
Beer = Life
.

“Freddy,”
Dev said, when she saw this. But he just cocked a dark eyebrow, as if to say:
Sorry, babe, but I felt bad for the guy.

She sighed and shook her head, her annoyance at Freddy quickly dissipating when she caught sight of her mom's face. Melisande stood in the doorway, staring at the strange man, the sheen of tears in her eyes catching the twinkling yellow lights of the tiki bar.

Her mother swallowed and looked away, wiping at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“Don't cry, Melisande,” Thomas said. “It's not so bad, is it, really?”

She remained silent, but from the rapid rise and fall of her chest, Dev could see that her mother was working hard to control herself.

“Melisande, my love, let me get you a chair,” Freddy said, working that ridiculous charm of his—the same charm that had captured Dev's heart the first moment she'd laid eyes on him.

He was compact and muscular, and even when he was exhausted—as he was now—he moved with the fluid grace of a dancer. One moment he was pulling out a chair for Melisande, the next she was seated and Freddy's handkerchief had been discreetly tucked into her hand.

“There you go,” Freddy said, patting Dev's mom on the back, then stepping away to give her some space.

She was lucky that her parents had taken so well to Freddy. He was older than her, Filipino, and a nonpracticing Catholic—it could've easily been a fiasco when she'd brought him home to meet her parents. But his kindness and charm had won both her mom and dad over within minutes, and that was that. He'd become a part of their family. Though they'd never married—neither of them had ever seen the need to—he would be her better half for all of time.

She knew this because it had been Freddy's face she'd seen when she'd joined the coven and been metaphorically mated to the Horned God. The ritual induction ceremony was one of the most important rites of the coven, and it was here that each blood sister saw her true love's face imposed upon the visage of the great Horned one.

Freddy came to stand beside Dev, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers tightly between his own. She was happy for his presence, pleased that he had her back, no matter what. She didn't know many men who would just accept their partner's weird eccentricities without comment, who would get up at three in the morning to stand watch over a strange man their lady had tied to a chair and stashed in their converted bar/garage. She thanked heaven every day that the man she loved was as chill and patient as a saint.

“Melisande?” Thomas said, voice smooth as honey, but with a slight catch at the end. Like he was just as moved to see her mother as her mother was to see him.

Her mom cleared her throat, dabbing at her cheeks with Freddy's clean white handkerchief.

“I know you didn't go away on purpose.”

Thomas let out a long sigh, beginning to tear up himself.

“Really? You mean that?” he breathed, his jaw clenched tight as he fought back the waves of emotion that seemed ready to overwhelm him. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't have gone. I would've done anything to stay.”

Her mom nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak.

“That night at the Beltane fire . . . it was the greatest night of my life,” he continued. “You were everything.”

Her mom started to cry in earnest, and Freddy squeezed Dev's hand, holding her back, so she wouldn't rush to her mother's side.

“Let her be,” Freddy whispered into Dev's ear, then followed his words up with a soft kiss on her cheek.

He was right, of course. If she'd intervened, she'd have ruined the moment, and it was obvious her mom needed this, needed the closure that this meeting would bring her.

“You're so young,” Melisande murmured—at a loss for a better way to say it. “How can that be? I don't understand.”

Thomas shrugged, a bit of his beer spilling out over his hand.

“Without going into the physics of the thing . . . time runs differently where I hail from,” he said, sadly. “All those stories about humans getting lost in the fairy world, where no one ever seems to age? Well, those stories come directly from your people falling into my dimension. We're not fairies, of course, but the rest of those tales have their roots in the truth.”

“But I've lived a whole life,” her mother whispered, “
my
whole life without you.”

Thomas stared down at his knees.

“I know. And it's been almost no time at all for me in my world.”

Dev watched as the tears poured down her mom's cheeks. She wished she could go and comfort her, but Freddy's presence still held her in check.

“You've met my oldest daughter. I have three more. I'm a grandmother, even.”

Her mom laughed, and the years fell away. For the first time, Dev saw how beautiful her mother must've been when she was a young woman—so beautiful that this strange young man from another dimension had fallen hopelessly in love with her.

“You've had a good life?” Thomas asked, and finally looked up at her mother again.

“Yes, I
have
had a good life,” she said, grinning through her tears. “But not a day went by that I didn't miss you.”

“Good,” Thomas said, a little cocky now. “That makes it all right, then.”

They smiled at each other, and Dev's heart ached for what could've been. Dev loved her dad, but this connection her
mother shared with the stranger went beyond anything she'd ever seen between her parents.

“Now you have to listen to me, Melisande,” he continued, letting his look encompass Dev and Freddy, too. “The Flood is coming to wipe you out. All of you except your granddaughter. Her, they want to control because she's special—”

“No,” Dev cried. “They can't have her. I won't let them.”

“They're coming. There's nothing you can do. Only the power in your blood will protect you. But you need the others, all of the Montrose women. Make that happen and we might still survive the night.”

“Man, this sounds really out there,” Freddy said, turning to Dev. “But if you tell me that's what's what, then I believe you. I mean, I haven't lived with you all these years without seeing some crazy shit.”

Dev snorted, not fully believing what she was hearing.

“I didn't know you were paying attention—”

“C'mon, Dev, I'm not blind,” he said, shaking his head. “The tarot cards are one thing, but sneaking off into the woods . . . let's just say, I may have gone after you once or twice to see what you were up to.”