Between Light and Dark (26 page)

Laurell couldn't hide the guilt on her face. "Well, I only
ate a few of those." She couldn't seem to help herself. She
craved sugary foods.

Hillary wagged a finger at her. "You heard me, young lady.
You've got a very important baby cooking in there. He's going to need lots of nutrients so he can be strong when it's
time for him to face down those Umbrae."

Laurell sighed. "Yeah. I know." It wasn't as if she could
argue. It didn't take a medical background to know the
baby needed more than sweets to thrive.

Laurell turned in front of the full-length mirror resting
against the far wall. The bump beneath her sweater was already fairly obvious. Although on the one hand giving birth
and being able to move on with her life sooner seemed a
good thing, it also meant the reality of being a mother was
going to come quicker than she'd anticipated. Her stomach
twisted, and panic surged and threatened to take hold, but
she stamped it down. She'd be a good mother. A great one,
in fact. She'd be nothing like her own mother.

Elaine hadn't attempted contact with her since the last
time Laurell had refused to speak with her. Which was just
fine with Laurell. Mostly. Some part of her still experienced
a twinge of guilt over the way she'd left things with her
mother. Realizing she was going to have a child of her own
was making her rethink that situation.

Would she want her child to be so unforgiving? Would
she want her child to live in the past so much he refused to
embrace his future? She might never be able to forget the
harshness of her own childhood and might never be able to
forgive her mother for making life so difficult for her, but shouldn't she try? At least call a truce-not for her mother,
but for herself?

And the child in her womb for whom she'd be setting an
example.

Laurell's brow furrowed and she focused on Hillary again.
"Are you sure my body can handle this accelerated pregnancy? I mean, is it dangerous?"

Hillary tsk-tsked. "My dear, you are worrying too much.
Of course you can handle it. Nothing is the usual here, you
know. The goddesses and gods would not put you or the
child at risk."

Laurell didn't point out that the entire mission put them
at risk. But she understood what Hillary meant. Hillary's
warm, brown gaze washed over her, and Laurell was suddenly
overcome with affection for her new friend. She pulled the
other woman into a hug. Hillary hugged her back, and Lautell found her touch comforting.

Then Laurell drew away, her cheeks warming. She wasn't
usually so demonstrative; she'd been more emotional than
usual of late. It must be the baby, she thought. The baby. An
idea dawned.

"Um, Hill, this kid isn't going to come out like an alien
child or anything, right? I mean, he's going to look and be
normal?" As normal as a child born from a god and a witch
can be.

The other woman let out a loud guffaw. "Oh my Goddess, you do worry a lot, don't you?" Hillary wiped tears of
amusement from her eyes, chuckling.

"Come on. It wasn't that funny."

Hillary shook her head. "It was pretty funny." Then,
when Laurell pinned her in place with the sternest look she
could muster, Hillary said, "As far as I'm aware, the child
will look human and, other than accelerated growth, will have all the normal human characteristics. Except for the
ability to dispel Umbrae with a touch."

Laurell's lips lifted in a half smile. "Yeah. I guess that's
not quite normal, huh?"

Hillary was still chuckling. "Not quite."

To work with the element of water, you must embrace
your emotions. You must dive deep into the pains of
your past while touching fresh hurts and facing them
head-on. The fragility of life, of being human, must
be acknowledged. You need to accept your vulnerability and be one with it. A surface attempt to touch the
water element will not work. You have to accept your
pains, release them, and realize they serve a purpose in
your life. You must be willing to cry, to be needful, and
to admit defeat.

Laurell perused the Book of Shadows and read over a spell
for working with the water element, which apparently had
been written into the journal by a great-aunt she'd never
known. She'd been practicing with Fiona more on her elemental magic, and was still unable to draw the water into
more than a half-inch stream.

Her fire skills, though, were top-notch. Just that afternoon, she'd sparked fire at least ten feet in the air simply
by focusing on the flames and willing it so. Fiona told her
that once she became really adept at elemental magic, she
wouldn't need a physical vehicle to focus on; she'd be able
to conjure the element out of thin air.

She set the book aside, rose from her bed, and peered
through one of the cabin windows. It was the end of November, midnight of a full moon. The coven had held their usual
full-moon ritual and afterwards, Fiona had shooed Laurell off to her cabin for protection, then led the group away to recast
the protection circle about the entire property.

She hated being shoved away like some helpless child.
She was a witch, too, dammit. And she had power-perhaps
not as refined as the rest of them, but she was getting there.
Laurell bit her lip. She paced the floor, her movements jerky,
her spine stiff. She needed to get out of her cabin. Her need
for independence was rearing its head.

She shrugged into her wool jacket and rifled through her
dresser for the pair of black gloves Wayne had brought back
for her from his last supply trip to town. Winter was settling
in, and the air, especially at night, was frigid. Way too cold,
Laurell thought, for someone whose blood has thinned from
years of living in Florida. When she stepped outside, a pang
of homesickness filled her. She'd have been wearing sandals
and a tank top if she were in Florida.

The air still smelled of the bonfire Thumper had created
earlier for the ritual. She inhaled deeply. She loved that
scent. Scooping up the flashlight she had hanging on a peg
by the door, she clicked it on and followed its thin beam as
it bounced between the trees.

She entered the ritual circle and found only Thumper
there, tending the fire. Flames leaped and danced as she approached him.

"Hey," he murmured, barely glancing up. Then, as he realized she was disobeying Fiona's orders, his eyes narrowed
and anxiety crossed his youthful features. "You're not supposed to be out here."

Laurell patted him on the arm. "I know, I know. They're almost done, though. And I was going stir-crazy in my cabin."

Thumper sighed and gave a small smile. "I can imagine. I
sometimes feel the same way being confined to Fiona's property."

"Exactly." Laurell sat on the log behind him. After another couple of moments spent poking the fire, he perched
next to her, leaning the poker next to him. "So, how come
you don't help cast circle?" she asked.

"Well, it's not a good idea to leave the fire unattended.
And I'm the least experienced with casting the protection
circle. I think they want to keep me safe or something." He
looked embarrassed at this admission.

"You're the youngest of the group, right?"

"Dawna's younger, but I think the rest of them look at
me like a kid brother or something."

"Or maybe they realize how much power you have and
they don't want it jeopardized."

Thumper shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Dawna has the
same problem with the group, but, you know, she's just so
powerful, I think they have more faith in her abilities then
they do in mine." His admiration for Dawna was obvious,
and the tenderness in his gaze when he spoke of the blackhaired witch made her heart swell.

"It must be hard to be in love with someone who doesn't
return the feelings," she murmured. The words were out before she could stop them. Thumper's spine straightened, and
he cleared his throat, glancing toward the fire.

"Oh! I'm sorry. That's none of my business," she muttered hastily.

"It's okay. I figure it's obvious to everyone how I feel
about Dawna."

"It is." She touched his arm in reassurance. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, though."

Thumper shrugged. "I know, and I know she doesn't feel
the same, but loving someone is never a waste."

He retreated to the fire, his head ducked toward his chest
as he turned inward. Laurell's chest tightened. She was an
idiot. An absolute idiot.

"You are not in your cabin." Axiom's deep voice interrupted her thoughts. The hair on the back of her neck rose,
and her body hummed with his nearness. He was behind
her, so close his breath tickled her ear. She breathed his
scent in, and a familiar ache began between her thighs and
traveled to her chest until she found it tough to breathe.

She twirled to face him, and pressed her hands to his chest.
"I'm naughty," she whispered, suddenly feeling just that.

He chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows. She tried to do
the same back, but failed miserably. Must be another of his
god powers.

"Everything went okay with the circle casting?" she asked.

"Yes. No sign of Umbrae." He threaded his fingers through
hers as raucous laughter trickled to them from the woods,
signaling the rest of the coven was approaching. "Let's go before Fiona sees you and insists you do penance for your disobedience." Amusement sparked in his gaze.

"Did you just make a joke?" She couldn't remember Axiom as anything but serious and focused on the mission.
With the jeans and sweaters he'd started wearing instead of
suits, the way his hair had grown and started to curl over
his collar, and now, his joking manner, she hardly recognized him as the same man who had whisked her away from
that graveyard not so very long ago.

"It was an attempt at one, though no doubt I need practice. Is that such a surprise to you?"

"Frankly, yes."

"Come to my cabin, and I will give you more surprises,"
he said, leaning closer, his voice a whisper.

"Some of the Council members have refused to submit to
my questioning," Avina announced, breezing into Mobius's
private chambers. He glanced up from the amethyst tablet
he was studying and thought the doors humans had in their
structures could be very useful. His dwelling, like all structures in the Light Realm, was created and maintained with
his mind. Today, Mobius resided in a room made entirely of
violet and silver quartz crystal. He had also discarded his
usual white robe for one of deep purple.

Unfortunately, gods and goddesses could move into each
other's mind dwellings without effort, though out of politeness, most refrained from doing so without announcing their
arrival. Avina had to be quite agitated and distracted to have
entered his chambers in such a hurried, informal manner.

The raven-haired goddess's amber eyes assessed him with
one sweep of her lengthy lashes. "That color suits you, Director. It presents a pleasant contrast with your hair." Mobius
thought the purple probably contrasted rather harshly with
his red hair, but accepted the compliment nonetheless.

Mobius nodded. "Thank you. Now what is this you speak
of? Who is refusing to speak with you?"

Avina's jaw hardened in frustration. "Helios, Rhakma,
and Willow."

"Willow?" Mobius could not hide his surprise.

Avina nodded. "Yes."

"She would not cooperate? Why? She has nothing to
hide." Helios and Rhakma he could well understand refusing interrogation by Avina. After all, they had both made
their views on the mission quite public. Avina's ability to
read their thoughts would ferret out even the tiniest inclination either one of them might have toward usurping Mobius or thwarting the mission. No doubt they had considered
at least the former. Their involvement in the latter remained
to be determined. Either way, it was unlikely they would want
Mobius to know of their desire for him to give up his seat as
Divine Director.

But why would Willow refuse?

"I do not know for certain, but she seemed very uncomfortable with the idea that you would be given a transcript of
my session with her." Avina folded her arms across her chest.

"It is unavoidable. I must review all transcripts."

"Yes, I know."

"Arrange for the three to meet with me individually. I
will assess their motivations and make them understand the
implications if they continue to refuse questioning." He
frowned. If Avina had to force her ministrations on them, it
could be quite painful, even for a god or goddess. It would be
infinitely better for all were they to acquiesce.

Axiom was woken in the middle of the night by a soft hand
wrapped around his most sensitive part. His eyes flew open
to a sight that made him appreciate his superhuman vision.
Cast in shadows and moonlight, Laurell crouched between
his legs, pert breasts swinging, nipples tickling the hair on
his thighs. She was naked, her skin still flushed from their
earlier lovemaking. Her hazel eyes were dark with devilish
intent. His cock immediately hardened.