Between Light and Dark (18 page)

Her mother seemed sincere. Laurell's stance relaxed a
bit. The Umbrae had killed her mother. Her chest burned
with anger, this time at the evil creatures whose machinations had turned her world upside down. Maybe Elaine had
left much to be desired as a mother. But she was the only
family Laurell had, and the Umbrae had taken that family
from her.

"Now that that's out of the way, tell me how you're faring?
Are you and Axiom getting on okay?" Elaine asked. She
stepped back as though a thought had just occurred to her,
and her gaze swept Laurell's middle.

Laurell's jaw tensed, and she shrugged out of her mother's
grasp. Not so fast, Mother. "You were supposed to mother the
Earth Balancer, weren't you?"

Elaine blinked at the sudden turn of topic. "Yes, that's
true."

"Tell me what happened to prevent you from fulfilling your
mission," Laurell demanded, a familiar ire settling in her gut
with a slow, acidic burn.

"Your grandmother tried to tell me about the mission,
but I didn't take her seriously. So she sent the High Priestess, Anne, to try to convince me," Elaine admitted.

"But she couldn't convince you either, could she?" Laurell pressed. "You wouldn't listen." You never listened. "You
cared only about yourself and your career and keeping up
appearances. I spent most of my life trying to fit some impossible mold you'd created for the perfect Hollywood
daughter. And no matter how much I tried to tell you what
I wanted for my life, who I wanted to be, you wouldn't hear
me." Moisture pricked her eyes, but she blinked the tears
back. She wouldn't cry. She hadn't cried since she was a
teenager, and she wouldn't start now. Not in front of her
mother, of all people.

"You've every reason to be angry with me, but I want to
make things right for you. For us." Elaine reached for her,
but Laurell stepped back.

"No. You don't get to ruin my life, then sweep on in for
your happy ending. This isn't the movies, Mother." Laurell
paced over the smooth crystalline landscape, glancing periodically at Elaine. She enjoyed the whiteness of her mother's
face, the way the other woman twisted her hands in concern. It felt good to tell her mother off. She'd wanted to do it for a
long time and probably should have years ago.

"Laurell-"

She ignored her mother's attempt to speak. Elaine's time
to talk was over. Laurell had spent too many years listening
to Elaine.

"The fact is, you refused to hear Grandmother or Anne
and because of that, you're dead. And now, guess what? Once
again, thanks to you, my life isn't my own." She paused in
midstep and turned to face Elaine, arms folded, limbs shaking
with repressed rage.

"I understand your world is topsy-turvy right now, but
the mission-"

Laurell cut Elaine off and continued. "I've accepted my
place in this mission. I'm committed to seeing it through."
She sighed and ran one hand through her hair. "Then
again, I don't really have an option, do I? But I do have the
choice of whether to talk to you or not. I choose not. Tell
the Council not to bother sending you here again. You're a
piss-poor choice of messenger."

Elaine's eyes widened. "Laurell, don't do this."

"It's done," Laurell said.

A moment later she bolted upright in her bed. Shadows
danced across the dimly lit cabin, the night-light casting distorted shapes on the walls and ceiling. Traces of nag champa
drifted on the air, remnants of the incense she'd burned earlier that day.

She buried her face in her hands and willed her frantic
heartbeat to slow. She should be satisfied, smug, after giving
her mother what for. After all, she'd wanted to do that for as
long as she could remember. But a hollow cavern echoed
where her heart should be, and she wished she could cry. Just
let the tears fall. She tried, but in the end, she couldn't. If she
gave in to the urge now, would she ever stop?

"Ginger for a stomach upset or peppermint. Soapwort for
skin conditions like eczema or acne. Anise is a good antiseptic and also helps nausea-oh, and it's great for a colicky
baby." Hillary's words droned on, and Laurell found herself
tuning her out without intending to. It had been hours
since she'd entered the healer's cabin to discuss the various
uses of herbs. For the past several days she'd moved from
one coven member to the next, learning each person's
magical expertise.

The day before, she'd worked with Dawna, playing "psychic games" where she had to guess what shapes or numbers
were on the backs of cards Dawna held up. Apparently,
since Anne had died, Dawna was the group's next-mosttalented intuitive. Despite Dawna's insistence that everyone was psychic, Laurell remained unconvinced. Her own
intuition left something to be desired.

Today, she was supposed to be learning about different
healing modalities. So far, they'd covered everything from
Reiki to oils and herbs.

"Hill, aren't you going to be around once the Earth Balancer is born? I mean, I'll never remember all this stuff.
And I'm not sure why I need to," Laurell remarked, halting
Hillary's treatise on the benefits and drawbacks of the herb
valerian.

"I don't know that any of us have ever discussed what happens after the baby is born," Hillary said with a look of
puzzlement. She scratched her head, close-cropped black
curls bouncing beneath her hand. "We were just told to
make sure you learned as much as you could from us. You
know, 'cause you're going to have to help the child learn."

Laurell frowned. It hadn't occurred to her the coven might
disappear once the baby came, leaving her and the child to
their own devices.

"I know I'm going to have to be able to help the baby, but
what will you guys be doing? Is there some other mission the
coven needs to jump on or something?" She tried to keep the
sarcasm from her voice, but failed miserably. Sarcasm always
laced her words when she was worried or scared.

Hillary's stern brown gaze pinned her. "Hmmph! Don't
take that tone with me, young lady. I'm old enough to be
your mother, and I won't take any lip from you! We have
lives outside this coven, you know. You should be thankful
we put them on hold to help you and Axiom."

Laurell sighed, thoroughly shamed. "I'm sorry. I'm just
feeling anxious."

"Well, you've lots to be anxious about. Aside from the
obvious, why don't you tell me what's on your mind? Maybe
I can help." Hillary dropped the sachets of herbs she'd been
sorting onto the table in front of her and crossed the room.
She folded herself into the chair next to Laurell and patted
Laurell's knee reassuringly.

Laurell chewed a nail and glanced over her shoulder toward the door to the cabin. It was closed tight. So was the
window next to it. Outside, the wind shook the bushes beneath the window so the branches tapped against the glass.
The day was gray and dreary as usual. Inside, though, soft
new age music played from a CD player in the corner, and
vanilla incense burned.

Hillary's open, friendly face turned to her, smooth cocoa skin gleaming from the homemade lotion she'd applied earlier during her demonstration of healing creams. Crossing
her arms over her purple fuzzy sweater and ample bosom,
she tilted her head to the side. "Well? Out with it."

She could trust this woman; Laurell knew it. Still, her
face heated with a blush as she thought of how to pose her
concerns.

Just get it out. Maybe she can help. "Here's the deal," Laurell began. "I've only had sex with a couple guys in my life.
With one of them, it only happened once. With the other,
it wasn't any good. And, well, I really lack experience in
that department." Now that she'd done her best to seduce
Axiom, only to be summarily rejected, she was less certain
of her sexual prowess than ever.

Hillary didn't say anything, but her lips thinned, and her
brow furrowed in apparent concentration. "So, you're feeling nervous about getting busy with Axiom, is that it?"

Laurell let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. Thank god she didn't have to explain further. Hill got
it. "Exactly," she said.

"Just what is it that makes you nervous?"

Laurell pointed to her thighs. "My thighs are big, my
butt is big, my belly is big, my-"

"Good Goddess, girl! You're not even half my size, and
you think you're fat? You got a little meat on your bones, so
what? You look like a goddess!" Hillary grinned and motioned to her own ample figure. "Not as much of a goddess as
me, of course, but you can't have everything, now can you?"

Laurell groaned in frustration. Maybe Hillary was the
wrong person to complain to. No doubt her worries seemed
silly and vain to such a self-assured and confident woman.

"Now, now, don't think I'm making fun of you, sweetie. I
understand. Really, I do." Hillary stood and grabbed Laurell's hands, yanking her to her feet. "We've been sold a lie in this country. A lie that says women are only attractive if
they can wear a size six. Come here."

Hillary dragged her to the full-length mirror occupying a
wall near the bathroom. She stood behind her, hands resting
on Laurell's shoulders. "Look in the mirror. I see a gorgeous
woman with a curvy figure, big hazel eyes, high cheekbones,
and a mouth like Julia Roberts. And look at that hair! Silky
and shiny enough to make any girl jealous. I see a beautiful
goddess. What do you see? Hmmmm?"

Laurell met Hillary's piercing gaze in the mirror.

"Don't look at me. Look at yourself," Hillary urged.

Laurell reluctantly complied. Feeling silly, she stared at the woman in the glass. For a moment, she thought she saw
the woman Hillary did, eyes dark and beguiling, cheeks
flushed with embarrassment, plump lips tilted in a half smile.
She glanced at her breasts. They were admittedly large and
perky and probably pleasing to most men. Her gaze traveled
over hips she just might be able to imagine as voluptuous and
not just wide.

Then her gaze settled on her too-thick thighs, and she
heard her mother's voice calling out from a distant dinner
table as ten-year-old hands reached for the mashed potatoes: No seconds, Laure, you know we Graves women have the
obesity gene. Don't tempt fate.

She twisted away from Hillary. "Hill, I appreciate what
you're trying to do, but-"

"But you aren't buying it just yet, huh?" Hillary shook
her head, one eyebrow arched in disapproval. "Well, I suppose you can always ask Fiona about a glamoury to get you
through your night with Axiom."

"A glamoury?"

"A spell to alter your appearance temporarily. Fiona
knows how to cast one, but I don't. Maybe she'll show you
how to enhance your features so you'll have more confi dence." Hillary resumed her seat by the window. "Not that
I think you need it, mind you. But whatever it takes to get
the deed done, the Earth Balancer needs to be conceived.
The sooner the better, I say."

"Yeah," Laurell agreed. "The sooner the better." How in
the world would she convince Fiona to teach her a glamour
spell? The coven's High Priestess had made it clear she didn't
like Laurell, so why would she help her with such a request?
And how will I explain why I want it so badly? Just the thought
made her cringe.

"You want me to do what?" Fiona eyed Laurell with feigned
shock. Laurell shifted from one foot to the other, her forced
smile drooping a little.

"I know you heard me, Fiona," Laurell said, taking a step
farther into the kitchen, where Fiona was stirring a pot of
homemade vegetable soup. The scent of beef bouillon and
simmering peppers and onions tickled Fiona's nose. She lifted
the spoon to her lips and took just a sip of the broth. Tangy,
but it needed a bit more spice. She reached around Laurell to
the cupboard, found the cumin, and started to tip some into
the pot. Laurell's hand on hers stopped the movement.

Green eyes locked with determined hazel ones. "Why do
you want to learn glamoury? It's hardly necessary training
for the mission," Fiona said.

Laurell pushed a lock of chestnut hair from her eyes.
Fiona noticed the other woman's hair had grown a bit since
she'd arrived at the covenstead. It curled over her collar and
softened Laurell's striking features. Fiona would bet Reese
had noticed the subtle but attractive change as well. Reese
noticed everything. She turned back to her soup and stirred
with a vengeance.

"Does it matter why I want to learn it?" Laurell asked.

"I'm in charge of your training," Fiona insisted. "I don't want you wasting your time on spells that won't be of any
use to you."

"It's not a waste of time," Laurell said, her tone tinged
with agitation.

Clearly this spell was important to the girl. Fiona set her
spoon on the counter. But why was it so important? She
faced Laurell, arms folded across her chest. "Tell me why you
want to learn it and I'll consider teaching you," she said.

The brunette's face flushed and Fiona had an inkling she
was about to hear something good. Despite Laurell's obvious attempts to appear nonchalant, the glamour spell
meant a lot to her.