Cate Tiernan - Changeling

• Название: Changeling
• Автор: Cate Tiernan
• Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика

When Morgan receives a shocking revelation about her family, she's thrown into a moral tailspin, believing that her essential nature is evil. Is her dark heritage too powerful to overcome?

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“Though I should mention that I’m rather famished myself.”

“I know a diner we could go to.”

“Perfect!” Killian flashed his trademark grin and turned to Raven. “How about you, love? Care to join us?”

“I can’t,” Raven said, frowning. “Mom’s suing Dad again and I have to meet with the lawyers.” She rolled her eyes. “They are such losers.”

“Oh, too bad,” I said, relieved, as Killian and I headed for Das Boot. I wasn’t sure if she meant the lawyers or her parents—probably both—and I didn’t care. Killian waved behind him as we walked off.

“Cool car,” he said as he climbed in, putting his arm across the back of the bench seat. “I love huge American cars. Gasguzzlers.” He smiles. “What year?”

“Nineteen seventy-one,” I said, pulling out into the street and heading toward the highway. Despite having called him, I was still rattled by Killian’s presence, and the weight of my mission pressed in on my chest, making me feel like I had drunk a couple of double espressos. “Listen, Killian,” I added quickly, “do you know who I am?” Might as well plunge right in.

“Sure. The witch from New York. With the friends, at the club.” He slouched comfortably against the seat, unconcerned that he was in a car with a virtual stranger going to a place he didn’t know, in a town he had just shown up in. He seemed like a leaf, a colorful autumn leaf, tossed about by the wind and content to go where it took him.

I took a deep breath. “Ciaran MacEwan is your father.”

He straightened a little bit, and I felt tension entering his body. He took a longer look at me, and I felt him cast his senses towards me, trying to figure out if I was friend or foe. I blocked his scan easily, not letting him in, and saw him straighten more.

“Yeah,” he said warily. “You knew that. So?”

My throat constricted as I turned onto the access road to Highway 9. Somehow I just couldn’t get the words out, and suddenly the diner was there in front of us. I pulled in and parked, and we didn’t speak again until we had ordered.

The waitress brought our drinks. We sat across from each other in the back booth of a fifties-retro diner. Killian took the paper off his straw, stuck it in his chocolate milk shake, and sipped—all without taking his eyes off me. I watched him, unable to decide what my next move should be.

“So, what do you want with Ciaran? Is your Seeker boyfriend looking for him?” Killian finally said lightly, but his face didn’t match his voice.

I fought to hide my surprise at his question. “The Seeker is not my boyfriend,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I found out Ciaran MacEwan is my father, too.”

Killian sat back as if he’d been slapped. His eyes open wide, he scanned me again, looking at my hair, my eyes, my face.

“I realized it in New York,” I explained awkwardly. “I didn’t know until then. But—Ciaran and my mother had an affair, and my mother had me.” And they were mùirn beatha dàns, soul mates, and then Ciaran killed her. And a short while ago he tried to kill me. I wondered if Killian had any idea what had happened to me in New York. I figured the odds were against it—he had told me that he and Ciaran weren’t all that close. Appearing out of nowhere, the waitress clanked our plates onto the table in front of us. Killian and I both jumped. After she left, he continued to look at me, stroking his chin.

“What was her name?” he asked finally. “Your mother.”

“Maeve Riordan, of Belwicket.”

I might as well have said Joan of Arc or Queen Elizabeth. He stared at me as if I’d suddenly grown two heads.

“I know that name,” he said faintly. Then, seeming to come back to himself, he shook his head and looked down at his hamburger. “American hamburgers.” He sighed happily. “I’m so sick of mad cow disease.” He picked it up with both hands and took a big bite, closing his eyes in pleasure.

Now what? How did I get from here to having him tell me everything about Ciaran and getting Ciaran to come to Widow’s Vale? Somehow I had to find a way. Every day, every hour counted. At this very minute Alyce was at Practical Magick, feeling a heavy mantle of doom lowering over her head.

“How did you found out about Ciaran?” Killian asked after a minute, taking another bite. Apparently discovering he had a half sister hadn’t dulled his appetite.

“I’ve read Maeve’s Book of Shadows,” I said. “She talks about Ciaran in it. Then in New York, I sort of—got into trouble. Ciaran helped me get out of it. And we figured it out how we knew each other… that he was my father. I–I have his eyes.”

“Yes, you do,” Killian said, studying my face.

“Anyway,” I went on. “He helped me, and he’s my biological father. I didn’t get a chance to really talk to him in New York or even to thank him.” I shrugged and glanced up to find Killian looking at me intently, and I felt a surprising strength coming from him.

“But you weren’t raised by Maeve,” Killian said quietly. “You couldn’t have been. How did you come to be here, in Widow’s Vale?”

“Maeve put me up for adoption,” I explained. “My family, the Rowlandses, adopted me. They’re the only parents I’ve ever known. I have a sister, but not a blood sister, of course. I mean, when I realized that I have an actual half brother… by blood.”

Mary K., please forgive me.

Killian blinked, as if this notion were just occurring to him. He focused on his food, working his way through his burger and shake with steady intent.

As the minutes went by, I felt more and more anxious. What if Killian hated me, the flesh-and-blood evidence of his father betraying his mother? At last he looked up, his plate completely clean. He smiled.

“Well! A little sister,” he said cheerfully. “Brilliant. I always hated being the baby.” He stood and leaned across the table to kiss me on the cheek. “Welcome to the family.” He made a rueful face. “Such as it is. Now. What do they have for pudding here?”

I watched as Killian devoured a slab of chocolate silk pie, and the new silence felt awkward. I studied Killian, trying to think, trying to prod my addled brain into motion. I needed more information from him. That was why eh was here. I needed to know everything he could tell me.

“Was Ciaran a… good father?” I asked.

“Not particularly,” Killian said, sitting sideways on his bench and putting his feet up. “He wasn’t around you a lot, you know. He and mum hate each other. He used to come around a couple of times a year, and he would test us kids and find us all wanting and blame my mother, and she’d cry, and then he’d take off.”

“That isn’t how I pictured it at all,” I said. “I thought, he’s your real father. He would teach you. He would show you magick. I thought you were so lucky to have him around.”

“Nope.” Killian seemed unconcerned, but I could tell it was a facade. “What about you? How’s your dad?”

“Great,” I said. “He’s really brilliant—does all sorts of research and design and experiments. But then he’ll leave his glasses in the fridge, and forget to put gas in his car, so it runs out, and you’ll ask him to get something and find him an hour later, reading in his office.”

Killian laughed. “But he’s nice?”

“Really nice. He loves me a lot.”

“There you go, then.” Killian rubbed his hands together and looked up, as if to say, Shall we go?

“It must be difficult for you,” I said quickly, trying to keep this conversation going. “I mean… I hope you’re not upset with me. For bringing you here. For springing all this stuff on you so quickly.”

Killian looked surprised for a moment, and then he seemed to regard me differently. He gave me a rueful smile. “Well, love, it’s not as though my family life has been The Cosby Show. Finding out I have a sister…” He seemed to take me in, and at that moment I felt a sense of connection to him, like this wasn’t just an awkward conversation between strangers. I sensed in him that—kinship, I guess—that sprang from this less-than-ideal connection by blood. “… well, there are worse ways to spend a Monday afternoon.”

I smiled in response, and immediately started to feel guilty about using Killian to get through to Ciaran. It saddened me to think that he was a real person, my real half brother, with feelings, and I was really only getting to know him as part of a spy maneuver. The fate of Starlocket was a pretty good motivation, but I was beginning to feel that I liked Killian and that I might enjoy getting to know him even if Ciaran wasn’t involved.

“So do you and Ciaran ever… see each other?”

Killian made a face as though he tasted something sour and took a last sip of chocolate milk shake. “No.” He shifted, and I realized that all at once that he was incredibly uncomfortable with this conversation and wanted to flee. “I’m beat sis,” he said as I kicked myself mentally for not changing the subject earlier. “It was lovely speaking with you. I’ll see you around.”

“But—” I watched helplessly as Killian left some money on the table and walked briskly out the door. “Killian! Wait!” I threw some money down on top of Killian’s, grabbed my stuff, and ran out the door behind him. How would he get home? We were too far from anything to walk. Widow’s Vale wasn’t exactly a place were you can hail a taxi.

But I didn’t see Killian in the parking lot, and a quick scan of the highway found no pedestrians, no cars headed in either direction. In fact, I realized, I hadn’t heard a car go by in the last five minutes or so. I looked back at the parking lot, moving closer to study the woods on the perimeter of the lot. There were no footprints anywhere; the ground looked untouched by human feet. Frustrated, I leaned against Das Boot and took my last look around. Where had he gone? Had he actually used magick to get away from me?

Finally, after a few more minutes trying to make sense of it, I climbed into Das Boot, checking my watch. Five o’clock. Barely twenty-four hours after accepting Eoife’s mission, and I was already feeling pretty certain that I just ruined the council’s plan.

Eoife was staying at Hunters and Sky’s, and Hunter answered the phone when I called. The sound of his voice made my heart flutter inside my chest, but I ruthlessly pushed down the pain.

“Hunter? I need to talk to Eoife.”

“What’s wrong?” Hunter’s voice was warm with concern. Oh, Goddess, I thought, I can’t talk to you about how I’ve already ruined everything.

“Um—Killian’s here. But he kind of… got away.”

“Got away?” Some of the warmth leached out of his voice, and I sucked in my breath to prepare for his disappointment.

“Well—”

“Listen, Eoife just walked in.” Hunter cut me off. “I’ll put her on.”

Before I could react, Hunter was gone from the line and I heard Eoife’s voice. “Morgan? Is there a problem?”

“Well,” I began, “Killian came, and we were talking, but he took off before I could talk to him about calling Ciaran. And then he sort of… disappeared, and now I don’t know where he is or when I’ll see him again.”

“Morgan, calm down. It’s not a disaster.” Eoife’s sensible voice, if not exactly warm, still calmed my nerves a bit. “Listen, I was just heading out to attend a Starlocket circle. Would you like to come meet me there?”

Starlocket? Oh, no. How could I face Alyce and all of the innocent members of Starlocket when I might have just thrown away their one chance for survival?

“I don’t know Eoife. I mean… maybe this mission isn’t for me. Maybe you should find someone who’s better equipped—”

“Morgan,” Eoife interrupted me, “I think you’re overreacting. Come with me to the circle—it will calm you down. And we can talk a bit about how to approach Killian from now on.”

I sighed. It would calm me to attend a circle, especially since I’d skipped Kithic’s this week. And Alyce was always a warm and comforting presence—I could only hope that no harm would come to her anytime soon. “All right,” I said finally. “Where is it?”

Starlocket was meeting at a cozy, cedar-shingled house on the outskirts of town. When I rang the doorbell, the door was answered by a tall, formidable woman who looked to be in her late thirties. She had long, dark brown hair that reached all the way down to her butt, and she wore a brilliant robe of purple silk. “Hello,” she greeted me.

“Hi,” I said. “I’m Morgan Rowlands. I’m a friend of Alyce and Eoife’s.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Morgan.” The woman regarded me calmly. “Welcome to my home. I’m Suzanna Mearis.” Suzanna stepped back from the doorway and gestured into a small living room. “The circle will be held in here. Eoife hasn’t arrived yet.”

I thanked Suzanna and headed past her into the warm, golden-hued room. Nature-themed oil paintings adorned the wall in shades of green, gold, orange, and red. A rust-colored velvet couch sat before a brick fireplace, and candles burned in every available surface. Several members of the coven were sitting on the couch, chatting, and I noticed Alyce standing by a window, looking out into the night. I walked over to her. “Alyce?” I said softly. She turned and hugged me tightly without a word.

“Morgan,” she whispered finally. “I’m so happy you’ve come.”

“It’s good to be here.” Seeing Alyce made me realize how much I’d missed my friend and confidante, and I had to fight back tears.

Alyce’s eyes met mine, and I could see her concern shining there. Her voice dropped. “I know that you had a difficult time in New York.”

A difficult time, I thought. Difficult was right. One blessing of this new assignment was that it kept my mind off just how much my life had changed in the last week. I nodded, not feeling up to talking about it just now, even to Alyce.

“Morgan?” I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to find Eoife in a green linen robe. “We should talk.”

I nodded and followed Eoife to a private corner of the room, after saying good-bye to Alyce, and promising we’d get together as soon as possible.

“Listen,” Eoife began, “Killian isn’t going to open up to you right away. What we’ve asked you to do us to get close to him, and that’s going to take more than just one meeting. Given what we know about Killian’s upbringing, I can imagine that he doesn’t trust people too easily. If you were able to make contact and tell him who you are, you should consider this first meeting successful.”

She had a point, I realized, but I hadn’t counted on my half brother disappearing into the blue. “But how can I be sure there’ll be a next meeting?” I asked. “I have no idea where Killian went or how he got there. And he’s not answering my witch messages.”

Eoife put her hand on my shoulder. “Morgan, remember: Killian is your half brother. He may not want to share everything with you right away, but we believe that he will feel a connection to you and that he will want to come meet with you again. You just have to give him time.”