Between Light and Dark (38 page)

"Good," Hillary cried. "Again. Push."

Dimly, Laurell heard Axiom grunt, and she glanced his way to see he had successfully destroyed another Umbra.
She took a deep breath in, preparing to push with all her
might, when she sucked in sulfur. Terror arched through
her as an Umbra appeared in the air above her, hovering,
crimson eyes sparking hate and malicious intent.

Wayne lifted his hands toward the Umbra, but just as he
did so, another demon appeared behind him and grabbed
him by the throat. He turned and tumbled to the ground,
writhing to get the creature off of him.

The Umbra above Laurell reached a hand toward her
belly as it covered her nose and mouth with the rest of its
body. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned. Her heart
raced. Oh god, no. We're so close.

"I don't think so. Get off of her, you nasty thing!"
Hillary cried before beginning a low chant. Laurell's eyes
were covered by a weblike material. She couldn't see Hillary,
but sensed a spell was in the works. Whatever Hillary was
doing, the creature didn't like it.

Laurell could feel the Umbra twisting over her as it
shrieked in pain. Still, it wouldn't release its hold on her.
She was fading fast. She'd been deprived of oxygen for too
long. Her hands, which had been clutching desperately at
the air, at the being holding her hostage, fluttered to her
side in surrender.

Her body continued to be racked with the contractions
but she couldn't move, couldn't contribute to her child's
birth. She was dying.

The demon squealed and finally let go. Then, suddenly,
thankfully, air rushed into her lungs. She gasped and sucked
in life's breath, her chest expanding with the effort. Her eyes
fluttered open, and as her vision cleared she realized Axiom
lay beside her, face wan and pale, body shaking from fatigue.

He grabbed her hand in his own and nodded. "Push, my
goddess. Our child needs to be born."

Our child. Had he called the baby by that title before?
She didn't think so. Her eyes pricked with tears. She gave
one last, forceful push, bearing down until she couldn't
hold the position for a second more.

"That's it," Hillary cried. Laurell felt the baby slide from
her body. She fell back onto the mattresses, relief washing
over her.

Hillary held the baby up, and it was tiny with red skin,
fists flailing in agitation. Little legs kicked with force.

"You've got a girl," Hillary said, suctioning the child's
mouth and nose to be sure she could breathe easily. She
wiped the baby with a cloth and the child started to wail.

Hillary laid the baby on Laurell's chest, and Laurell
stared at the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Tons of
black hair. Wide eyes already sparking with silver light. A
girl. Why had she thought the Earth Balancer would be
male?

She turned her head to Axiom, whose breathing, previously labored, had gone suddenly quiet. What she saw
made her breath catch and her heart lurch. His body was
still; his silver eyes stared at her, but were blank, lifeless.
And she knew he was gone. Her heart shattered like glass
dropped onto stone.

"Oh, child," Hillary murmured, reaching over Laurell
and pressing Axiom's eyelids closed. She touched Laurell's
cheek. "I know this is so hard. But death is just what makes
us appreciate living."

Laurell clasped the child in her arms and turned her
head from Axiom. She couldn't bear to look at him any
longer. And for the third time that day, she embraced her
sorrow, her pain, and for all the tears she'd held back over
the past years, she let them flow now.

She cried as Hillary cleaned her and the baby, changed
the sheets beneath her, and bundled her in a clean gown and blankets. She cried as Reese appeared and helped
Wayne remove Axiom's body. And the tears didn't stop
when Fiona crept into the bed beside her, held her from behind, and smoothed her hair from her face, offering no
words, just the comfort of her presence. In fact, it was days
before the sobs stopped, and the only thing that made the
absence of Axiom even slightly bearable was the little girl
who looked so much like her father.

On the fourth day after the baby was born, Laurell looked
up from the eggs she pushed absently around on her plate.
"Aurora. I'm going to name her Aurora after the Greek goddess of the dawn."

Fiona turned from her place at the stove and nodded her
approval. "What about a middle name?"

"Athtor, for the Egyptian goddess of night. To remind us
of the importance of embracing both our light and our
dark selves and finding balance between the two."

"For without night, there can be no day. Without evil,
we would have no concept of good," Fiona said.

"And we need the darkness just as much as we need the
light. It's part of us all. Without it, Aurora wouldn't be able
to defeat the Umbrae," Laurell finished.

Fiona's smile was bittersweet. "I think you're getting it,
sweetie."

The child she held in her lap giggled her approval.

Mobius strode to Axiom's personal chambers with intent.
He mentally rapped on the silver walls Axiom held in place
around himself. He felt Axiom's power seep through the
structure to see who came calling and then sensed the
other god's permission to enter.

He found Axiom reclining in a clear quartz-crystal chair
clad in a silver and white robe, face pensive and distant.

Mobius halted in front of his friend, head tilted to the side.

"I have just returned from a meeting with the Council."

Axiom's eyebrows rose. "A decision has been made regarding who is to fill Rhakma's seat?"

Mobius nodded. "Yes, and it was unanimous."

"Do not delay, my friend. Please tell me what decision
was made."

"They voted you to the Council, Axiom. Congratulations. I know you have desired this for some time."

Axiom rose from his seat and rubbed one hand over his
face. His eyes were tired and lacked their usual silver of
sparkling metallic light.

"This is good news indeed," Axiom said, though his
words lacked conviction.

"You do not appear as pleased with the decision as I
thought you would be. This is what you wanted, is it not?"
Mobius asked.

Axiom nodded. "It was, yes."

Mobius's eyes narrowed. "Was?"

Axiom groaned. "I do not wish to be ungrateful. I know
you have stood by me, pushed for me, and had faith in me
when many others did not. For this I am forever in your debt."
He began to pace the room with uneven, jerky movements.

Mobius sighed. "You owe me nothing. You and the mortal woman and her coven did us all a great service. It is we
who owe you." Axiom's face was twisted with emotion, his
expression heavy and troubled. "Speak frankly with me,
Axiom. I can see something is amiss."

"It is the woman."

"The mortal woman, Laurell?" Mobius asked, though he
already knew the answer.

"Yes. I am unable to stop thinking of her and yet, I wish
to Source I could stop. Without her near, I feel hollow and
ill inside." Axiom pressed one hand to his chest as though
to illustrate where the emptiness resided.

Mobius knew that sensation all too well. "I understand."

"Do you?" Axiom's eyes were wide with emotion. "You
speak little of your own mission or the Earth woman you were
assigned to."

Mobius's chest tightened. He would not talk of her now.
Speaking of the woman never produced pleasant sensations for him, only sadness and regret. He could not repair
what had been broken so long ago, but he could make a difference now, for Axiom. He touched Axiom's arm, stilling
him midstride.

"What if I said you have a choice?" he asked.

Confusion fluttered across Axiom's face. "How so?"

"The Council has agreed that, were you to give up your
seat and return to Earth, you would have our full sanction
to do so. You could assist in raising the Earth Balancer. It
would be a noble mission."

Axiom stiffened. "Give up my seat?" The idea of such a thing clearly put him out of sorts. Mobius knew of Axiom's
ambition; to walk away now that he had finally achieved his
goal would require terrific strength-and a powerful love.

"How long would I be able to last on Earth in human
form? Is there some trick I do not know that allows a god to
remain for more extended periods of time?" he asked.

"No trick. You would have to become fully human."

Axiom scratched his chin, and Mobius could almost see
his mind racing over the implications. "If this is true, then
you were given this choice once as well?"

Mobius nodded. "Yes. But I made the wrong decision."

Axiom's gaze penetrated his as though trying to read his
very soul. After long moments, he spoke. "I see. And what
of my powers?"

Mobius smiled.

"So, you're sure you don't mind us staying here for a while,
right?" Lynn asked, pouring orange juice and champagne
into a glass.

Laurell sliced a strawberry and set it on the rim of her
champagne flute. "Stay as long as you'd like. This place is
huge and there's no reason you and Dawna should squeeze
into some little apartment while you finish school."

Lynn sighed. "I'm still wondering if going back to graduate school was a good idea."

Laurell smiled. "I think becoming a therapist is a great
idea. I hear that the program at the University of Wisconsin is a good one. And Kenosha isn't that far from here."

"Thirty miles. I like the drive, actually."

"I intend to finish school, too," Laurell said.

"Oh? Did you talk to your college advisor?"

"Yes. Of course, I couldn't tell her the real reason I disappeared. I told her I went into a major depression once
Mom died and dropped off the radar for a few months be cause of that. The department granted me an extension on
my thesis work."

"That's excellent news. I'm glad you're finishing," Lynn
said.

"Me too." Fortunately, Abrams hadn't listened to Laurell
when she'd told him to give all her mother's money to charities. Apparently, he'd had plans in place to commandeer
that money, in addition to obtaining Graves Manor, once
Laurell was dead. Only his plan had failed, Laurell was very
much alive, and she no longer felt the need to refuse her
inheritance.

"I talked to Fiona today," Lynn said.

"What's the scoop?" Laurell asked.

"Well, she and Reese have their hands full with planning
a Samhain festival for October. Thumper's off finishing his
last semester of school. Hillary's visiting her son who is on
temporary leave from the army. Oh, and Wayne is doing his
usual thing, hanging out at the covenstead, enjoying his retirement."

"Does he ever take that cowboy hat of his off?" Laurell
asked.

Lynn shook her head. "Dawna and I have an ongoing bet
he's bald under there, but we've never been able to find out
for sure." Both women laughed.

"So everyone's still coming here for full-moon ritual,
right?"

Lynn grinned. "Of course. Fiona said they wouldn't miss
it for anything."

"Mama, Mama," came Aurora's excited cry as she wobbled into the kitchen of Graves Manor, where Laurell and
Lynn stood sipping mimosas and frosting Dawna's birthday
cake. The child halted in front of the women, hand held
aloft. Laurell set her spoon on the counter and ruffled the
black mop of curls atop her daughter's head.

It never ceased to amaze her, Aurora's rapid growth. During her last astral visit with her mother, Elaine had informed
her Aurora would continue the rapid growth spurts until she
reached age eighteen. Then she would revert to the normal
human aging cycle. Still, a child who was only eight months
old was already walking around in the body of a two-yearold. And Aurora's mind. Sheesh. The kid was sharp as a new
knife. Her mental functioning was on fast-forward as well.

"What have you got there, sweetie?" Laurell asked.

Aurora giggled and showed her mother the multicolored
butterfly poised in her hand. "Pretty!"

"Gorgeous. But you have to take her back outside and let
her go. Butterflies belong outdoors."

The child nodded. "I won't hurt her." She disappeared
back out the door.

Lynn shook her head. "Probably Dawna's doing. I think
insects are the latest addition to the animal species she can
communicate with."

"She's outside still, right? With Aurie?" Laurell asked.

"Mm-hmmmm," Lynn confirmed, pushing a chunk of
honey-blonde hair from her eyes. "She said she'd stay out
there with her until we tell her it's safe to come inside. She
knows we're doing something for her birthday in here. I
don't know why we're attempting to surprise her."

Laurell sipped her mimosa, the liquid sliding smoothly
down her throat, tangy and sweet. She set the glass on the
counter and lifted her spoon to spread more fudge frosting
on the cake. "Well, we have to at least try. She doesn't know
what we're doing, so it will still be a surprise. Who doesn't
love a surprise?"