Maximum Witch: That Old Black Magic, Book 3 (13 page)

Aurele took Willa’s arm and steered her toward the chintz sofa in the living room. “I’ll tell you everything, but perhaps first I should put some tea on? Or take the lasagna out of the freezer.”

More than familiar with Aurele’s stalling tactics, Willa narrowed her eyes. “I’m not thirsty or hungry. So spill it.”

Exhaling heavily, Aurele perched on the edge of the couch cushion and smoothed the knee of her polyester slacks. “As I’m sure you’ve already deduced, we’re not really blood relatives.” Her shaky hand reached for Willa’s and squeezed. “But I want you to know that I’ve always viewed you as the niece I never had. My love and affection for you is no different than if we did share blood ties. That’s never going to change.”

“But…” Willa shook her head, scrambling to process it all. “Even before my parents died, you were there for every family gathering. Every holiday. My mom called you
sister
. Why in the world would she do that if you weren’t?”

Aurele pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is going to be so very difficult to explain, much less for you to comprehend.”

“Try me.”

Her aunt—no, apparently that wasn’t correct anymore—peered desperately in Max’s direction. As if he’d be any stinkin’ help. He knew about as much as she did. Or at least she assumed so. To be honest, she doubted anyone on the planet could claim to be as clueless as she at the moment.

Finally Aurele’s scrutiny settled on her. “Willa, your memories aren’t one hundred percent accurate.”

“Not
accurate
? Uh, I’m pretty certain there’s no possible way I can screw up something like that.”

“There is, since your memories are implants.”

Willa blinked at Aurele. The only implants she was familiar with were the ones that came in silicone and boasted numbers like double D. She kind of doubted that’s what Aurele meant, however.

Max approached the sofa, his features frozen in disbelief. “What do you mean they’re
implants
? Are you saying her memories aren’t real?”

“Not entirely.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Willa held up a hand, desperate to put an end to this madness. “That’s ridiculous. How could they not be real?” Glomming on to the first thing that popped into her mind, she hiked up the hem of her cargo pants and pointed to the faint white crescent scar just below her kneecap. “I clearly remember getting that when I was seven years old and I fell off my bike after dad removed the training wheels for the first time. Are you telling me it’s not real?”

“The scar is, but the memory is not.”

She couldn’t grasp the insanity that Aurele was suggesting. “Then how did I get it?”

A heavy weariness turned Aurele’s features haggard. Her gaze roved to Max before once more meeting Willa’s. “I don’t recall the precise means, but I know you got it the day we escaped Atlantis. The day your parents were murdered.”

Chapter Twelve

Max watched the color slowly leach from Willa’s face while a horrible premonition of doom barreled upon him. He had a sinking feeling where this story was headed, and if he was right, his and Willa’s lives were about to be irrevocably turned upside down.

“What do you mean my parents were murdered?” Willa’s voice came out little more than a whisper. “They drowned. I saw it with my own eyes.”

“Another implant. I begged the mind sweeper not to use it, not to put you through that, but he insisted it would be the only way to keep you from wondering. To keep you from ever entering the ocean.”

The odd statement snapped Max into investigative mode. “Why didn’t he want her to go into the ocean? And who the hell is this mind sweeper?” He wasn’t familiar with the term, but given this talk of implants and false memories, he could easily deduce what the individual’s skill amounted to.

“I think I’d better fill in a few blanks before getting into that, otherwise it’s not likely to make sense.”

Willa grunted. “Got news for you.
None
of this is making sense.”

“I know, dear. You have no idea how sorry I am that we’re even having this conversation.”

“Why?” Willa’s eyes flashed with accusation. “Because the guilt’s eating at you due to you lying to me all these years?”

Aurele hung her head. “I know you won’t believe me, but it was completely necessary to do so. There was no other choice. After your parents were murdered, it fell upon me to protect you. To protect us all.”

Max drilled his gaze into Aurele’s skull. “From what?”

“Not what. Whom.” The older woman’s shoulders lifted with a deep inhale. She looked up, her expression dismal. “Reva Bellemuir. She’s the one responsible for the death of nearly everyone I loved and swore allegiance to. She’s to blame for
my
death—the person I once was and can never be again.”

He let the name tumble around in his brain for a second. It triggered a hazy sense of
déjà vu
. Slowly, the pieces started clicking. He sorted through the distant recollection of the deceased and missing who’d been cataloged on the victims list from the palace massacre. Yes, Reva Bellemuir
had
been one of those named. Wait a minute…

He jerked his head up. “Bellemuir? Surely she’s no relation to—”

“Yes, she is.”

Aurele’s calm pronouncement shuttled a fresh shock wave through him, and he sucked a breath through his teeth.
Holy fuck
. “The Duke of Atlanta is related to a murderer?”

“More than that, she’s his grandmother.”

A frustrated sound bleated from Willa, and he and Aurele turned their attention to her. “Since no one else seems ready to point it out, let me remind you that there’s no such person as a Duke of Atlanta.”

“Actually, there is, dear.”

Willa rolled her eyes. “Right. Next you’ll tell me there’s a King of Savannah.”

“No. There was only one king, and he ruled Atlantis before being murdered.” Aurele’s eyes became waterlogged. She tried valiantly to stem the tide of her tears, but Max guessed that she wouldn’t last long. Glimpsing the box of tissues resting on the far end table, he rushed to fetch the dispenser. Aurele gifted him with a wavering smile and accepted the offering. She plucked several sheets free and blotted her cheeks.

“Hold on, I thought you said my parents were murdered.” Willa’s tone held a healthy dose of suspicion.

“They were, along with the rest of the royal family and the staff on duty that day.”

“So what are you saying, that my parents worked for the king or something?”

He waited for Aurele to put his worst fears to rest, despite every instinct screaming at him that the opposite was about to occur. Because if she was about to confirm what he suspected to be true, his hope for any future with Willa was about to crumble around his feet.

“No, dear. Your mother was the Princess of Atlantis.”

And just like that, his tiny shred of hope shriveled.
Jesus Christ
. He’d fallen for the granddaughter of the king, the only existing heir to the throne of Atlantis. He couldn’t get further out of his league, even if he decided to date the Queen of England.

Willa laughed. “Yeah, right. That would make me—”

“Princess as well. Yes, dear, it’s true.” Aurele frowned as she seemed to consider her words. “Actually, that’s not entirely right. Since you’re the sole heir, you’re now technically the Queen.”

“You have got to be kidding me.” Willa leapt from the couch, her agitation showing. “This is all…nuts. I’m just
me
. Ordinary, nothing-special me.”

“You are so very wrong, my dear.” Aurele stood, her eyes shining with love and pride. “You are the only known descendant of Poseidon himself. Ordinary doesn’t belong in your vocabulary.”

Willa’s mouth fell open before she suddenly laughed again, the sound bordering on hysterical. “Good one. Last time I checked, Poseidon is only a myth.”

Aurele brushed aside a lock of Willa’s hair. “Most legends stem from reality. True, they oftentimes become twisted within the textbooks, but that doesn’t change their existence.” She tapped the tip of Willa’s nose, earning a scowl in return. “Tell me something. Why is it so hard for you to believe that you’re the descendant of Poseidon? You, more than anyone, knows that there are many fantastical things in this world that the majority of our population remains in ignorance of.”

“Yes, but I’ve seen those things firsthand. I can’t exactly deny the existence of shape-shifters, evil ghosts and all of the other weird crap I’ve encountered throughout my life.”

“Look in your heart, and you’ll know what I’m telling you is true.”

Willa’s frown remained stubbornly locked in place. “Okay, answer this for me. How the hell can I be descended from a god? I’m
human
.”

Max didn’t fail to notice the fiery inflection she’d loaded into the last word, or the way her gaze momentarily flickered in his direction. Obviously she wasn’t ready to accept the fact that she was anything besides one hundred percent human.

“Poseidon mated with many humans.” Aurele cleared her throat. “That, at least, is one thing the textbooks got right. The gods were quite frisky and amorous back in those days. However, all but one of the direct royal bloodlines died out over time.”

“And I’m from that line?”

“Yes. You come from the first and the strongest. Amphitrite was Poseidon’s wife, and mother of all the sea. A nymph of the highest order and regard. It is because of her that you are here today.”

Max stared at Willa, more than a little dazzled by her heritage. He’d been around his fair share of royals. As sheriff, he was their sworn servant, more or less. Enforcer of their laws and protector of their realm. But he could honestly say he’d never stood in the same room with a royal who came with as high a pedigree as Willa. The realization widened the ever-growing chasm between their statuses and filled his heart with even more doubt. The heaviness of it weighed at him.

“Wait a minute. You said this Amphitrite chick was a
nymph
.” Willa’s accusing tone snapped Max from his morose thoughts. She stacked her arms in front of her and glared Aurele down. “A nymph and a god doing the mattress mambo doesn’t produce a human.”

“That’s a valid point, dear. But you’re not fully human. You’re half nymph on your mother’s side.”

A strangled noise came from Willa, and Max hurried forward before she stumbled backward onto the couch. He held her against his chest, uncertain what else to do as Willa visibly struggled to digest this new facet to her existence. Her throat working with a hard swallow, she peered up at him. “Okay, go ahead and say it.”

He decided it would be better to play dumb. “Say what?”

“I told you so.” Her face crumpled.

Raising his head, he met Aurele’s distressed gaze and grimaced. “I don’t think she’s too thrilled about the less-than-human part of the story.”

Aurele rushed to Willa’s side and joined their awkward group hug. “Oh dear. This must be overwhelming for you. Perhaps we should postpone the rest of the conversation for later.”

Willa broke free of their hold, her expression going from dazed to feisty in the blink of an eye. “No. I’ve spent all these years in the dark. Not anymore.” She hooked her thumbs in her belt loops, her chin taking on that mulish slant that Max was coming to know so well. “You said my parents were murdered by this Reva person. Why?”

“Two reasons, really. Reva Bellemuir was a calculating woman. Many of the sirens are. It seems to be written into their genetic code.”

Max more than agreed with Aurele’s assessment. There wasn’t one siren he’d encountered that didn’t prove to be a huge, troublesome pain in the ass.

“What does that have to do with my parents and their death?”

“Reva wasn’t the least bit pleased when your mother chose your father—a human—over Reva’s son. Your parents’ union ruined the duchess’s shot at becoming the mother or grandmother of the future king or queen of Atlantis.”

“So she thought that granted her the right to kill my mom and dad?” A mix of pain and rage trembled in Willa’s voice.

“In the past, there were many who whispered rumors of the duchess’s spiral into madness. It’d be easy to blame her actions upon that. But I believe her motives hinged on a sort of vengeance. You see, Reva didn’t only despise your parents’ marriage. She hated the human race and those who would defend them. Because of this, her ultimate plan wasn’t just to kill your parents, but all of humankind.”

Willa’s eyes tripled in size, and Max could easily relate to her apparent shock. He shook his head. “Wipe out the human race? Anyone who thought they could pull off such a feat had to be diabolically whacked.”

“Not entirely.”

He blinked at Aurele’s resigned statement. “Pardon?”

The elder shark shifter blew out a slow, heavy breath, her shoulder’s sagging. “Reva planned to steal the trident.”

It took a moment for her meaning to register. “
Poseidon’s
trident?”

“Surely your father told you of its existence.”

“He said it was destroyed. A long time ago.”

“It wasn’t. That tall tale was created in the hopes of keeping evildoers from going after it. The truth is, the trident can’t be destroyed. It’s physically impossible.”

“Jesus.”

Aurele’s smile held no humor. “I’m afraid even He can’t help us. Not if the trident is ever discovered.”

Willa broke into the conversation with a pointed cough. “Would someone mind explaining why this trident has you both looking spooked?”

He rubbed his palm along Willa’s arm, the gesture as much to reassure him as Willa. “You’ve seen pictures of Poseidon with that pitchfork-looking thing, right?” He waited for her affirmative nod before continuing. “That’s the trident.”

“Okay.” Willa’s gaze ping-ponged between him and Aurele. “At the risk of sounding incredibly dense, what’s so scary about it?”

Aurele waved a hand, apparently giving him the floor. He coughed into his fist, looking for the right words, before settling on the blunt approach. “The trident is a weapon.”

Willa’s eyebrows slashed low. “You mean like a gun?”

“No. A lot more powerful than that. It holds the force of the elements. Strike it into the Altar of Atlantis, and it’ll create a tidal wave capable of flooding the entire planet.”