Andwhen the vampire has a fit of shits when she realizes you will be alone as youdrown your sorrows, what excuse should I give her?
None.Just stop her from looking for me. Not kidding, I need some me time here. Andit's a shit fit, not a fit of shits. That's what happens when you get badtacos.
Hebowed his head.
"Geton Delanir. I'll shadow walk home."
"Yes,Master," Yuki answered and gingerly stepped on the bicorn's offeredforeleg, settling herself neatly behind his neck and gently running her fingersthrough his silky mane.
"Becareful, my lady," Ellis answered and deftly hopped up behind her.
"Whatdoes he mean be careful?" Yuki shifted, intent on getting off the bicornjust as he slashed a portal home through the air with his horns and steppedthrough.
Maste–
Hermindspeech was cutoff as the portal closed behind them.
Ilifted my hand to take myself back to Cedar Falls, but I knew if I did, I'djust end up sulking at the diner. I needed something way stronger than that,and I knew just where to find it. Which worked out perfectly with my motherstill in Cedar falls. The chances of running into her were nil. Maybe not nil,but certainly greatly reduced.
Callingthe shadows to my hand, I pulled myself into the shadow realm and stepped outinto the alley between the Daystrum Cleaners and Tir Na Nog, the biggest Irishpub in Ashville. I had puked so many times in that alley in my youth, I knew itby heart. And smell. It brought back so many happymemories, I found myself smiling from nostalgia as I walked around the cornerand pulled open the heavy oak door with the brass handle.
Thesmell of corned beef was the first thing that assaulted your nose as you walkedin, then the smell of beer and polished wood warmed your heart. Waving at thehostess, I pointed at the bar. You needed to wait to be seated for booths andtables, but not the glorious, majestic oak bar with the hammered copper top.
"Dorothea?"The burly bartender stared in shock as I ambled up to his domain.
"Heyla,Mr. Connors." I smiled at his mustache, still wondering after all theyears I had been going to the pub, how he managed to eat or drink anythingwithout swallowing a half a pound of hair. He had just started growing it thefirst night he had taken over as bartender from his father. That had beentwenty years ago. Now, it dangled long enough to brush his shirt. It was nowonder he was so fond of it. It was the only hair gracing his head.
"Stillas beautiful as ever."
Igrinned at him.
"Usual?"
"Yes,please. And make it a double."
"Roughday?"
"Roughcouple of months. Rough, but good."
"Good.How's your mother?" He whispered the question.
"Fine?Why?"
Heset my whiskey sour in front of me and frowned. "Well, it's not every daythe High Priestess steps down without someone in mind to take over. Everyonethought it was going to be you, but you hightailed it out of town first."
"Excuseme?" I gripped my glass and stared at him in shock. Mr. Connors wasn't awitch, but his wife was. He was as human as they came, but between his wife andthe number of drunk witches that got blabby-mouthed after a few dozen beers, hewas almost as bad as Marge in the gossip department.
Hestood up straight, realizing I didn't have a clue. "She didn't tell you."He wasn't asking, he knew.
"Tellme, what?"
"Thatyour mother is an asshole." A drink slopped down on the shiny metal barbeside me, and a very drunk Nestor Flume slopped down in the seat next to me.Mr. Connors started wiping down the bar, quickly polishing his way away fromthe conversation.
"Nestor?What the hell is going on?"
"Youtell me. The coven would fucking looove to know." He clinked hisglass of straight whiskey against mine and poured the rest of it down histhroat before leaning against the bar and holding his head up with his hand.
Severalmore witches got up from the surrounding booths in the bar and circled aroundus. I guessed old Nestor wasn't the only one who wanted answers.
Sighing,I sucked down some of my drink to steel my nerves. "Mother came for avisit. As far as I know, she should be leaving any day and coming back here."
"That'snot what her letter said." Nestor pulled out a folded piece of stationaryand slapped it down beside me.
Gingerly,fearing the worst, I picked it up off the bar and scanned the contents. Theletter was addressed to Nestor. I'd known they'd been lovers, but seeing thegraphic and detailed address to Nestor, I felt my drink rising in my gullet asit threatened to make its escape. I did notneed to know Nestor was endowed like a bull elephant. He was creepy as fuckenough already. How Mother found him attractive was beyond me. But, then again,she found most of the male members of her coven attractive. Probably why shebedded half of them.
Afterthe disturbing greeting, she basically said she quit and that her troublesomedaughter needed her. She was resigning the coven to the witches of Ashville todecide on leadership going henceforth.
Nestorwas right.
Mymother was an asshole.
"Fuckme." I handed Nestor back his letter. "Don't look at me. She showedup and kept going on and on about how she was leaving any day. Then she agreedto stay through Yule. This is the first I'm hearing about it."
Theother witches grumbled an understanding, but Nestor was scrutinizing me,gauging if I was telling the truth. "Why? Did you really need her thatbad?"
Iopened my mouth to deny it, but I couldn't. Not after how much help she had been. Her and Nana both. "Idid. And I won't lie to you, Nestor. I might need her for a bit longer, but I'llsend her back as soon as she's done."
"Don'tbother. We don't need her." He got up from his stool and wobbled offtoward the bathrooms.
Therewas one thing for sure as shit. I didn't want her, either. She was my mother,and I loved her, but I would be much happier with her several states away.Plus, Ashville needed her, despite Nestor's proclamation.
Gulpingdown my drink, I tossed a twenty down on the counter and waved goodbye to Mr.Connors. I needed to get my shit together and get her back where
