“Later then.” Lana set the plate on the dresser Simon had built. “You know how to warm it up when you’re ready.”
Fallon shook her head again, but this time tears spilled. Lana simply walked to her, drew her in.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I spoiled everything.”
“You didn’t.”
“I wanted to.”
Lana kissed Fallon’s cheek. “I know, but you didn’t. You’ll apologize to your brothers, but right now, you can hear they’re happy. Nothing’s spoiled.”
“I don’t look like them, or you, or Dad.”
Lana ran a hand down Fallon’s long black ponytail, then eased back to look into those familiar gray eyes.
“I’ve told you about the night you were born. It’s always been one of your favorite stories.” As she spoke, she guided Fallon to the bed, sat on the side of it with her. “I’ve never told you about the night you were conceived.”
“I …” Heat rose to her cheeks. She knew what conceived meant, and how it happened. “That’s—It’s weird.”
“You’re almost thirteen, and even if we hadn’t already talked about all of this, you live on a farm. You know where babies come from and how they get there.”
“But it’s weird when it’s your mom.”
“A little weird,” Lana allowed, “so I’ll ease you into it. We lived in Chelsea. That’s a neighborhood in New York. I loved it. There was a sweet little bakery across the street, a good deli on the corner. Pretty shops close by, lovely old buildings. We had a loft—I moved into Max’s loft. I loved that, too. There were big windows facing the street. You could see the world rush by. Shelves full of books. The kitchen wasn’t nearly as big as the one here at home, but it was completely up-to-date. We often had dinner parties with friends.
“I worked at a good restaurant, and had some vague plans about opening my own one day.”
“You’re the best cook.”
“Not a lot of competition for that now.” Lana tucked an arm around Fallon’s waist. “I came home from work, and we had some wine, some really good wine, and made love. And after, only minutes after, something just burst inside me. Such light, such glory, such … I can’t explain the feeling, even now. It took my breath, in the most beautiful way. Max felt it, too. We joked about it a little. He got a candle. My gift had been so small that even lighting a candle was hit-and-miss, and only hit after a lot of effort.”
“Really? But you—”
“Changed, Fallon. Opened, that night. I lit the candle with barely a thought. It rose in me, the new power. As it did in Max, in all of us who had magicks inside. But for me, what I had inside was you. That moment, that burst, that glory, that light was you. I wouldn’t know for weeks, but it was you. You sparked inside me that night. I came to know, and some you showed me while still inside me, that you aren’t just special to me, to Max, to Simon, but to all.”
“I don’t want to go away.” Fallon buried her face in Lana’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be The One.”
“Then say no. It’s your choice, Fallon. You can’t be forced, and I’d never allow anyone to force you. Your father would never allow it.”
She knew this, too. They’d told her, always, it would be her decision. But … “You wouldn’t be disappointed in me? Ashamed of me?”
“No.” Lana pulled Fallon close, held her tight. “No, no, never.” How many nights had she raged and grieved over what would be asked of this child? This child. Her child. “You’re my heart,” Lana comforted. “I’m proud of you every day. I’m proud of you, your mind, your heart, your light. Oh God, it burns so bright. And I’d take that light from you without hesitation to spare you from making the choice. From having to make it.”
“He died to save me. My birth father.”
“Not just because of what you might be. Because he loved you. Fallon, you and I? We’re the luckiest women. We’ve been loved by two amazing men, two courageous men. Whatever you decide, they and I will love you.”
Fallon held on, comforted, eased. Then felt … She drew carefully back. “There’s more. I can feel it. I can feel there’s more, things you haven’t told me.”
“I told you about New Hope, and—”
“Who’s Eric?”
Lana jerked back. “Don’t do that. You know the rule about pushing into another mind.”
“I didn’t. I swear. I just saw it. Felt it. There’s more,” Fallon said, and now her voice trembled. “More you’re not telling me because you’re worried. You’re afraid for me, I can feel it. But if you don’t tell me everything, how will I know what to do?”
Lana rose, walked to the window. She looked out at her boys, at her man, at the two old dogs, Harper and Lee, sleeping in the sun. At the two young dogs running around the boys. At the farm, the home she treasured. At the life she’d built. Dark always pushed against the light, she thought with some bitterness.
Magick always demanded a price.
She’d kept things from her child, from the brightest of lights because she feared. Because she wanted her family together, at home. Safe.
“I kept things from you because, under it all, I wanted you to say no. I told you about the attack when we lived in the house in the mountains.”
“Two who were with you turned. They were Dark Uncanny, but you didn’t know until they tried to kill you. To kill me. You and Max and the others fought, and thought you’d destroyed them.”
“Yes, but we hadn’t.”
“They attacked again in New Hope. They came for me, and to save you, to save me, Max sacrificed himself. You ran like he told you to do. You ran because they’d come back again, and you had to protect me. You were alone a long time, and they hunted you. And you found the farm, you found Dad.”
Fallon took a breath. “Was this Eric one of them? One of the dark?”
“Yes. He and the woman he was with, the woman I think helped turn him away from the light. They wanted to kill me, to kill you. They killed Max. Eric is Max’s brother.”
“His brother?” Shock ran straight through her. Brothers, she thought, horrified, however irritating, were brothers. They were family. “My uncle. My blood.”
“Eric chose to betray that blood, chose to kill his own brother. Chose the dark.”
“He chose,” Fallon murmured. After another breath, she squared her shoulders. “You need to tell me all of it. You can’t leave anything out. Will you tell me?”
“Yes.” Lana pressed her fingers to her eyes. She already knew, looking into those familiar gray eyes, what choice her child would make. “Yes, I’ll tell you everything.”
CHAPTER TWO
Fallon apologized. Colin shrugged it off, but since she knew from experience he held a grudge, she prepared for retaliation. With her birthday—and the choice—only weeks away, she preferred thinking about her brother’s revenge.
That was normal, that was family.
And she preferred the calculation in his eyes to the worry she often saw in her mother’s, her father’s.
She helped cut hay and wheat, harvest fruit and vegetables. Daily chores helped keep her steady. She didn’t complain about the kitchen work—or only muttered about it in her head. The end of summer and the coming of fall meant hours of making jams and jellies, canning that fruit and those vegetables for the winter to come.
A winter she dreaded.
When she could, she escaped, using her free time to ride the fields and the woods on her beloved horse, Grace. Named for the pirate queen Fallon had long admired.
She might ride to the stream just to sit and think—her baited hook in the water was an afterthought. If she brought home fish to eat or to barter, so much the better. But the hour or two of solitude fed her young, anxious soul.
She might practice little magicks there—calling the butterflies, making the fish jump, spinning little funnels of air with her fingers.