Page 35 of Morning's Light

Aisanna twirled an errant strand of thick hair around her finger. It had been years since they’d gathered together around a single table. The last time they’d been together was the twins’ fifteenth birthday party and Awakening, the first moment they’d demonstrated their magic. The moment Astix manifested the wrong power—and her brother found he had none.

Aisanna recognized the slow burn of guilt creeping its way up her throat. There were a lot of things she’d done in her life that she regretted. Not finding her sister during her banishment was one of them.

She didn’t remember much from that birthday. She’d been eighteen at the time and thought herself too cool to pay attention to her younger siblings. She’d gone up to her room after the disaster with the Awakening, blasting her music and determined to tune out the overly loud voices coming from downstairs. It wasn’t until the door slammed, shaking the windows, did she run downstairs to find her parents packing Astix into the car.

She’d gone out looking for a week afterward, sweeping the streets of Chicago and dealing with her parents’ ire when she came home. It took years for her to understand the severity of the situation.

The hair tightened around her finger until it tugged at her scalp. She released it with a wince. Those telltale nerves she would deal with another day. It was Imbolc, a time for rejoicing, spending time with loved ones, and watching for signs of spring. And Aisanna was thankful, certainly, for being alive.

She was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Karsia leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “I’m glad we could be here together.”

“Me too. Even though it’s a little awkward with you know who.”

Indeed, Leo Voltaire sat next to Astix with the calm of a saint. His large frame made the dining parlor seem small, his shoulders seemingly taking up enough space for several regular men. Golden-yellow lion’s-mane hair was a distinct contrast to the others and their darker tones.

The formal dining room—resplendent in tones of taupe and forest green—had been decked out for the holidays. Karsia dove into springtime festivities with the fervor of Christmas and no less ceremony. Garlands of conjured hyacinth and narcissus leaves hung around the room along with conjured flower hearts in shades of red and white. A nod to modernity even though they sat down to celebrate the pagan holiday of Imbolc.

Astix looked ready to bolt. Her nails drummed on the table top, hidden by the sounds of clanking dishes when more plates were set out. Aisanna understood that kind of anxiety, the kind knotting one’s insides into a fucked-up version of a cat’s cradle. She felt it, too. She’d just had more practice in dealing with it.

“Can we get this over with?” Astix said suddenly. “I’ve got work to do. Or have we forgotten that Zee is still locked in the Vault and there’s a supernatural maniac on the loose?”

“Like I told you earlier, we’re trying to focus on the positives for one night. Please.” Varvara spoke with forced cheer. She gestured toward the table now piled high with steaming platters. “Eat.”

“It’s not like you cooked the meal.”

“No, but I ordered it. Same deal.”

“Your optimism is going to make me sick.”

“Don’t let her fool you. She’s never too sick to eat,” Leo joked. “Pass me those potatoes, ma’am.”

“You two are living together. I think it’s safe for you to call me Mom.” Varvara wanted more than anything to see her children carted off on a tide of newlywed bliss. Reproducing would be icing on the cake.

A wave of bitterness rose in Aisanna at the thought. Of all the things for Varvara to focus on tonight… It was a coping mechanism, she knew. A way to put her attention on something other than her missing son or the countdown ticking down day by day with the approach of spring.

One would never know from the look on her face, however.

“No one but my mother has claim to that name, I’m sorry to tell you. I’ll happily call you by your first name if you call me by mine.” Leo sent Varvara a wink and everything was forgiven. The man could charm the teeth out of an alligator’s mouth.

Aisanna dove into her own mashed potatoes with concentrated fervor. They ate in silence for the first few moments. She chewed her food and looked around the table at each of them in turn. What a motley bunch, the six of them. Her eyes lingered on Zee’s empty seat.

“These are great mashed potatoes, Mom,” Karsia cut in to relieve the silence. “Just wonderful.”

“They’re out of someone else’s kitchen. We know it.” Astix made crop circles on her plate, the fork twirling through her food. “You can stop trying to make her feel better.”

“At least someone has something nice to say.”

Leo took Astix’s hand in his own, a tight smile stretching his well-formed mouth. “Try to be happy for one night, dearest. I know it’s hard.”

Luckily, Astix was given a reprieve when Varvara turned her attention to Aisanna. “Isn’t it nice that your sister found someone to call her own? A handsome, strapping young man. Have you seen any more of your fellow lately?”

“And I’m sure we’re very happy for both of them.” Aisanna sent her sister a brief smile before turning her eyes down to focus on her food. Please, she begged her mother silently, don’t go there. Don’t bring up my romantic status.

“Israel is a nice young man too.”

Yup, she went there.

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