After the service was over, Ravyn turned to leave and caught sight of a small figure slipping outside the door. There was something familiar about it, and… Wait, she knew! It was her crazy neighbor. What the hell was
she
doing here? The time had come for a confrontation.
Ravyn headed toward the door, ignoring the sympathetic murmurs of those who recognized her as Sorina's sister. She noticed Nick at the back of the room and gave him a quick nod before opening the door and stepping outside. The sight that greeted her made her halt in her tracks. A horde of reporters and cameramen filled the lawn.
A woman with stark red lips and pale blonde hair slicked back in a tight ponytail stuck a microphone in her face. "How does it feel to survive an attack by the Tin Man, only to have him murder your sister?" the reporter asked. Her voice carried over all the rest of the hubbub.
Ravyn stared, and the reporter's gaze flickered uncertainly. Then the mask was back in place. "Miss Skyler, how does one recover from such a tragedy? Your survivor's guilt must be overwhelming."
Ravyn clenched her hands at her sides, wanting to slap the woman across her perfect features. Taking a deep breath, she ignored the reporter and stepped off the porch.
She tried to push her way through the crowd, but the media hounds closed in, blocking her way, shoving cameras and microphones into her face. She gritted her teeth and halted. Indiscernibly, she flicked her fingers toward the mob. A series of pops sounded, and murmurs rose from the cameramen as they gaped at the smoke wafting from their cameras.
The blonde reporter squealed and dropped her microphone. "The damn thing shocked me!" she shrieked.
Ravyn ignored them all and followed the retreating figure of the old woman. She was just on the edge of the grounds when Ravyn caught up. Reaching a hand out, Ravyn grabbed the woman by the shoulder and whirled her around. She wore a gray coat over a navy dress, and black lace-up oxford shoes. Pale green eyes in a timeworn face peered at Ravyn from beneath a shock of white hair.
"Who are you?" Ravyn demanded.
The woman shook her head. "Just someone who cared about your sister." Her voice was surprisingly strong, considering her appearance.
"How did you know my sister? Why have you been watching me? I know you live near my home. I've seen you sneaking around. Who are you?"
The woman sighed. She gazed into Ravyn's eyes, and her expression softened as her shoulders slumped. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"
There were benches several feet away, between the funeral home and the road. Ravyn motioned toward the benches, and the stranger followed her.
When they were seated, the woman reached out and took Ravyn's hand. Her own was dry and wrinkled but warm. She squeezed Ravyn's fingers gently, and Ravyn looked at her in surprise but didn't pull free.
"Who are you?" Ravyn asked again.
Tears filled the woman's green eyes. "I'm your grandmother. Your father's mother."
Ravyn wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. When the words sank in, she knew they weren't true. They couldn't be true. "What? That's impossible." She jerked her hand from the woman's grasp.
"Because you were told I'm dead?"
Ravyn narrowed her gaze. "I remember you—I mean, her—from when I was very small. But she went away, and Mother said she died."
The woman clasped her hands in her lap and shook her head. "No, child. I didn't die." She gazed toward where the mourners and reporters were slowly exiting the parking lot. "Though sometimes I wish I had."
"Why would she lie to us?" Ravyn asked. But even as she said the words, she knew they were ridiculous. Her mother would lie about anything.
"Let me start from the beginning." The woman leaned back on the bench and slumped as if suddenly exhausted. "Your father was dying, and I loved him more than life itself. I was desperate to save him, so I made a grave mistake. I turned to the dark arts."
Ravyn gasped. "You? You're a…"
She nodded. "Like your Kayne, I was driven from the coven. Unlike him, I did it for my son. I wanted to save him."
Ravyn ignored the fact that the woman knew about her personal life, knew about Kayne. She was a witch, and she'd been practically stalking her, so she probably knew pretty much everything. "You didn't have to practice black magic to save him. We have the ability, although it's at tremendous personal cost."
"Right. But in doing so, we lose our place in the coven and a part of ourselves; we're weakened, I didn't want that. I wasn't sure what kind of shape he'd be in, even if I saved his life. I knew he'd need me." She gave Ravyn an apologetic look. "I knew he couldn't count on your mother."
"But you didn't save him. Father died."
"What did your mother tell you about how your father died?"
"Just that he was ill."
"He had brain damage from a beating. Some men at a bar jumped him and nearly beat him to death because they thought he was in a cult, after they saw him do magic."
"He was performing magic in public? At a bar?"
"I'm afraid so. He was reckless and had a drinking problem. The combination was very dangerous." The old woman looked at Ravyn as if hesitant to say the next words, and she spoke slowly. "Your mother loved you very much but was afraid you would be like him. That the same thing would happen to you. She lived in fear. You were so smart, so powerful."
"Is that why she burned my hand with a candle?" Ravyn gave a harsh laugh. "How thoughtful."
"I know you thought she did it to protect herself, but it was actually to protect you."
"Huh." Ravyn snorted. "Don't you think that was a bit extreme?"
Her grandmother nodded. "Your mother can be unstable, and yes, she went about punishing you in the wrong way. But never doubt that she loved you girls very much."
"Oh? You really believe that? Do you know what happened to Sorina?" Ravyn felt the threat of tears clogging her chest, but she swallowed them back. "What she let
that man
do to my sister?"
The woman gave a quick nod. "What happened to Sorina was inexcusable. Your mother couldn't accept that her husband was hurting her daughter, so she ignored it. Eventually she gained the strength to do what was right. Eventually she divorced him."
"Eventually, she divorced them all. Even the good ones." Ravyn shook her head, disgusted. "Why are you defending her?"
"I'm not. I just want you to have the whole picture. I want you to know the entire truth about your family and your past. Your mother and I have never gotten along. I hated her for taking you girls away from me. I haven't been able to be with you since you were six and Sorina was three. But I've always been nearby. Always watching you. I wanted to protect you both. And now this…" Her voice trailed away, and tears trickled down along the creases in her face.
"What happened to my father? If you began practicing black magic to save him, why isn't he here?"
The old woman dabbed at her tears and shook her head. "I healed him. He was fine. But…"
"But what? What happened?"
"He couldn't stand what it had done to me. He couldn't stand what I'd become, that I'd reverted to black magic, and he couldn't live with your mother's betrayal."
"Betrayal?"
"Even while he lay dying… she took other lovers. She wouldn't settle for a man who couldn't give her all the things she desired, so she found others to take his place." The old woman swiped at a fresh wave of tears, snuggling more deeply into her worn gray coat. "Once he was in his right mind and saw what was happening, he took his life."
Ravyn's hand flew to her mouth. Her father had killed himself? Her grandmother had turned to the dark arts and risked her own well-being to save her son and then lost it all, anyway?
"Was it worth it?" she asked.
"What?"
"Would you do it again? To save your son?"
The old woman looked into Ravyn's eyes and slowly nodded. "I would do it a thousand times to save someone I love. To save him… to save you. I would have done it to save Sorina, if I could have."
Ravyn looked away. Her grandmother must know that she could have saved Sorina and hadn't. That if she'd found the Tin Man right after he attacked her, he never would have had a chance to claim another victim, she'd never have lost her precious sister. Her grandmother knew her failure.
Ravyn stood. "I need to get back." The conversation with this woman was a bit more than she'd been prepared for. She felt drained and incredibly sad. "Good-bye."
But as Ravyn turned to go, her grandmother's voice stopped her. "You did all you could. It wasn't your fault. But now it's up to you to find him. You must find and destroy him. Trust Nick."
Ravyn stopped and turned, wanting to ask the woman what she meant, wanting to ask what she knew about the man who'd been helping out at the store. But she couldn't. For some reason, Ravyn was afraid of the answers. Afraid to know more than she'd learned already. Without responding, she quickly walked back to the parking lot of the funeral home.
When she arrived at her car, Nick was standing next to it. He looked somber and handsome in a charcoal gray sport jacket, black shirt and black silk tie. His blue eyes offered sympathy, and for a moment she wanted to take what he offered. It was strange, considering she'd only known him for a few weeks, but he seemed familiar, solid—as though if she rested in his arms, if she let him shut out the world, all the bad would go away.
She blinked, giving herself a mental shake. Where had that last thought come from? Had to be the grief and strain of the past few days.
More sharply than was necessary, she said, "What are you doing?"
"Waiting for you. We need to talk."
Ravyn shook her head and walked over to open the driver's side door. "I'm a little drained. I've had enough for one day. It will have to wait."
He reached out and placed a hand on her arm to stop her. Ravyn's eyes flew to his, and she pulled away.
"It can't wait," he said softly. "There's something I have to tell you."
She sighed. "So, tell me."
He looked around. "Can we go somewhere to talk?"
Ravyn shook her head wearily. Why did everyone want a heart-to-heart today? "Whatever you have to say, we can talk right here. I'm ready to go home, so make it quick."
"Okay. I lied to you."
Ravyn shrugged. "So? Everyone lies. I barely know you. Why should it matter?"
"What if I told you my lie contributed to your sister's death?"
A hard and sharp pain ripped through her stomach. For a moment she couldn't speak. Swallowing, she shrugged and tried to keep her voice steady as she replied, looking straight into his eyes. "Then I'd say that you and I have something in common."
Surprise flickered in his gaze. "What are you talking about?"
Ravyn looked away, watched the breeze pick up the fallen leaves on the sidewalk and carry them a few feet before dropping them again. She felt similar, as if she were being carried along in a breeze with no purpose, an insignificant part of nature that wouldn't be noticed if she disappeared forever.
She jerked on the door handle and turned back to Nick. "I tell you what. I won't ask you to confess your sins, and you don't ask me to confess mine. Deal?"