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"Jeez, Mom," I said as I clicked the burner off and felt the heat radiating from the metal rack. "How long have you had this on?" Damn, it was glowing. That's where the hot metal smell was coming from.
She didn't answer, and my brow pinched in concern when I saw the never-used percolator on the counter beside the sink. It was one of those old ones you set atop the stove, and it was the only thing my dad had drunk coffee from. There was an open bag of grounds waiting to be scooped out, and the filters were scattered across the counter.
Double damn, she'd been reminiscing again.
My shoulders slumped, and I picked up the amulet and set it on the table. "Mom," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder to bring her back to reality. "Mom, look at me."
She smiled at me with her green eyes bloodshot and her face blotchy from crying. "Good morning, Rachel," she said lightly, chilling me with how at odds her voice was with her appearance. "You're up early for school. Why don't you go back to bed for a while?"
Shit. This is bad. I'd better call her doctor, I thought, then took a deeper sniff, scenting what the hot metal smell had been covering. My face went cold and I searched her empty expression. It smelled like burnt amber in here.
Alarmed, I looked closer at the amulet I'd picked up, then pulled a chair around so I could sit and see her face-to-face. Al hadn't shown up last night, but what if Tom had sent him…
"Mom," I said, sca
She took a breath to say something, then dropped her attention to the photo album and flipped a page.
Fear dove deep, tensing me. Tom wouldn't risk sending Al to me, knowing I could circle him and send him back, so he sent the demon after my mom. I'm going to kill him. I will freaking kill him.
"Mom," I said, pushing the album away and closing it. "Was Al here? Did he hurt you?"
My mom focused on me, her gaze clearing for an instant. "No," she said, her voice airy. "Your dad was, though. He says to tell you he said hi…."
Shit, shit, shit…Can today get any worse? I looked at the amulet with a new understanding as I recognized it. My mom was never good at making circles, preferring the security of another witch's skills to her own. She had trapped Al with it, or she wouldn't be here. I looked over the room thinking it looked normal, not like the disaster Al usually left in my kitchen.
"Mom," I said, taking her hand off the album and holding it in my lap. "That wasn't Dad." Whoever Dad was. "It was a demon disguised as him. Whatever he said to you was a lie. It was a lie, Mom." Her gaze was starting to land on me with some awareness, and both relieved and scared, I asked, "Did he do anything to you? Did he touch you?"
"No," she said, her fingers touching the spent amulet. "No, he didn't. I knew it wasn't really him so I put him in a circle. All night we talked. Talked and talked of before he died."
A chill went through me, and I stifled a shudder.
"We were so happy then. I knew if I didn't keep your demon here, he'd come after you, and I figured you were out having fun. I knew right away it wasn't your dad. Your dad never smiled like that. Cruel and vindictive."
My breath was fast, and I looked at her hands as if they might show a mark from her ordeal. She was okay. Well, she wasn't okay, but she was here and unhurt. At least physically. She had talked to Al all night so he wouldn't come after me. God help her.
"Do you want some coffee?" she said brightly. "I just made some." She looked at her empty mug, clearly clean and never used. Shock flickered over her, then disgust when she saw the percolator and realized the coffee had never gotten made.
"Let's get you to bed," I said. I wanted to ask her about my birth father, but she was scaring the crap out of me. I'd seen it before, but not like this. I had to call her doctor. Find her spells. "Come on, Mom," I said, standing and trying to get her to rise. "It's going to be okay."
She refused to move, and when she started to cry, I got mad at Al. How dare he come into my mom's house and stir her up like this. I should've had her spend the night at the church. I should have done something!
"I miss him so much," she said, the tears in her voice making my throat tighten, and I sank back down. "He loved us all so very deeply."
Reaching out, I held her, thinking life was cruel when the child had to comfort the parent. "It's okay, Mom," I whispered, and her narrow shoulders started to shake. "It's over. The demon did it to hurt you is all. It's over, and he won't do it again. I promise. You can stay with me until they find a way to hold him."
Fear wrapped around my soul and squeezed. I was going to take Al's name to stop this. The other choice was not an option at this point.
"Look," she said around a sniffle, pulling the album to her and opening it up. "Remember this vacation? You got so sunburned you couldn't go on any of the rides. Robbie really didn't mean to hurt your feelings by calling you a crab person."
I tried to close the album, but she wouldn't let me. "Mom, stop looking at these. It just hurts you," I said, then stiffened at the sound of the front door opening.
"Alice?" came a strong, masculine voice, gravelly and resonant, and my heart jumped when I recognized it. "It wasn't me," he pleaded, coming closer. "God, Alice, I didn't tell her. You've got to believe me. It was Trent. And he needs to get his ass out of your house so I can pound him into little pieces of green—"
I stared, my pulse hammering when Takata strode into the room, stiff and angry, his long hands made into fists, his face red, and his dreadlocks swinging. He was in jeans and a black T-shirt that made him look ski
My mother quietly cried, and I took a deep breath. "I couldn't find my car, so I took his." I didn't feel so hot, and swallowing, I remembered his roadies listening to me argue with Trent. And with that, it all fell together.
"You?" I said, my voice a high squeak. There was only one reason he'd have come over here and walk in as if he had a right to. My face flushed, and I would have stood if my mother hadn't clenched her grip on me, keeping me seated. "You!"
Takata's eyes were wide, and he rocked back a step, his long hands up as if in surrender. "I'm sorry. I couldn't tell you. I promised your mother and dad. You don't know how hard it's been."
Hard for you? I stared, horrified and angry. Crap on toast. "Red Ribbons" was about me. My gaze shot to him, reading his guilt. Damn it all to hell, his entire career had been made by putting his fucking feelings of guilt for having abandoned me and my mom out there for everyone to see. "No," I said, moving as my mom rocked back and forth, lost in her personal hell. "You and my mom…no!"
My mom started crying in deep racking sobs, and I held her closer, torn between comforting her and shouting at Takata.
"I can't take it anymore," she burbled, trying to wipe her face. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be like this at all!" she exclaimed, and my grip loosened. "You aren't supposed to be here!" she shouted, standing up out of my arms and looking at Takata. "She's not your daughter. She's Monty's!" she raged, red-rimmed eyes glaring and her hair all over the place. "He gave up everything for her and Robbie when you left to chase your music. Sacrificed his own dreams to support us. You made that choice, and you can't come back. Rachel is not yours! I can't—" Her balance wobbled, and I reached for her. "I want it to stop!" she screamed, and I fell back when she swung blindly at me. "Go away! Go away! Just make it stop!"