Southwest Nights (Semiautomatic Sorceress Book 1) by Kal Aaron (ebook reader for pc .TXT) 📗

“Just say it, Tricia.” Lyssa exhaled. “I don’t want to leave here with you upset. I’ve got a lot on my mind, and I need a clear head going forward. If you have something you need to tell me, go ahead. I came here because I wanted to be with family on the anniversary. Because I know you two give a damn about me, at least.”

“I’ve said it before.” Tricia shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Yes. Come on. We both know words have power.” Lyssa set her spoon down and waited. “So, spill it.”

“I worry about you, Lyssa.” Tricia blinked and looked down, a hint of tears threatening her eyes. “You’re a Sorceress. If you’re careful, you could live two hundred years, but…”

Tricia was right. They’d had this conversation before, but maybe it didn’t have to end in hurt feelings.

Lyssa nodded slowly. “It’s not like the Society’s keeping stats, but the average Torch or Eclipse doesn’t make it that long.”

“Yes.” Tricia gave her a plaintive look. “Your mother and father both died so young. I know you think there’s a special meaning in the fact that you inherited the same essence as your mother, but that was just chance. Nothing more. Don’t let your life be defined by chance.”

“I can’t say if it’s chance or fate.” Lyssa shrugged. “But I’m one of the few Sorceresses alive with the same essence as a parent. That might not be true fate, but it locked me into a path. When it was time to go to the Vault of Dreams during my Initiation, I knew I would take the Night Goddess.”

Sorcery didn’t manifest until puberty. Full membership as an Illuminated in the Society followed three years after that. Until then, all Illuminated raised their children under the assumption that they would come into power. Her parents were unusual in that both their children had done so.

“But you don’t have to be a Torch.” Tricia rested her hand on her chest and took a deep breath. “You don’t have to risk your life fighting. Things are different than before.”

“How?” Lyssa gave her a defiant look. “How are things remotely different? There are always dangers out there, and there always will be. Sometimes force needs to be met with force. Violence and cruelty aren’t going away, and I can do my part to remove corruption from the world.”

“M-Day is what’s different.” Tricia let out a nervous laugh. “We have an opportunity to live as a true part of humanity. We don’t have to convince them to value us as weapons. Think of the parade. I know you and Fred think it’s a silly little game, but it means something. We’ve gone from conspiracy theories and witch hunts to parades. All we had to do was be honest.”

“A bunch of Shadows partying doesn’t mean we’re accepted by them,” Lyssa snapped. She immediately regretted it after seeing the hurt look on Tricia’s face, and she softened her tone. “I’m just saying, Tricia. We can’t all sit in our flower gardens pretending evil isn’t out there.”

“Oh, honey. I know all too well there’s evil out there, and I also know this isn’t about that.”

“What’s it about, then?”

“I didn’t want to argue about it, but…” Tricia shook her head, the pity in her eyes almost palpable. “You need to stop torturing yourself. I know you loved your brother, but he’s gone, just like your parents. You need to accept that.”

Lyssa shot out of her chair, rattling the table. The chair smacked the floor hard. She glared at Tricia, her jaw rigid, taking short, ragged breaths. Tricia looked back as softly as before, not concerned by the sudden movement

The purpose of the trip was to be around people Lyssa loved on a day of pain. Some mention of her brother was inevitable, but she didn’t want it to be like this.

“You don’t know that.” Lyssa’s voice came out low and hostile. “He’s not dead.”

“It’s been fifteen years.” Tricia shook her head. “When you were younger, I never wanted to take your hope from you. Now I wonder if I did the right thing by not trying to get you to give up earlier. When you came to us, you were a sad, broken young woman. You’d suffered so much tragedy. I know he was your last real family member, but after all this time, we must face the truth. If he were still alive, he would have tracked you down. If not before, then after M-Day.”

Lyssa crouched and picked up her chair, her heart thundering. Rage and bitterness swirled in her, but she couldn’t vent them on the woman who had treated her like a daughter for fifteen years.

“You’re my family, too,” she murmured and sat. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want him back. It’s not like my parents. They’re dead, and they aren’t coming back. He’s missing. He could come back. He will. Or I’ll find him and bring him back.”

“Tracking sorcery has failed repeatedly, both from the Illuminated we contacted and those you approached.” Tricia kept her voice soft. “You need to let him go. You can’t carry around that kind of baggage and not have it hurt you. The past is the past.”

Lyssa stood slowly. This time she stepped away from her chair and pushed it in before spreading out her arms. She took a deep breath and pictured her normal regalia in her mind. Her form wavered and shifted, and her light clothing turned into the familiar dark leather. The jacket hanging on the rack in the other room shifted to a long overcoat.

Tricia watched her but didn’t speak. Lyssa was determined to make her foster mother understand.

“He can’t be dead for the same reason I can change this.” Lyssa slapped her hand over her chest. “If he were dead, then why isn’t the Northern Trickster regalia back in the Vault of Dreams? I’ve been there. You’ve been there.” She threw up her arms. “I’ve set it up so they’ll contact me if it returns.” She