The Wiccan Diaries: Neophyte Adept Part 45

In this case, usually meant alwaysand we both knew it.

"In fact, I wanted to talk to you about that," she said. "But first, I think you need a refill. We've been having a hectic time of late, and this is an opportunity for all of us, irrespective of gender, to let our hair down, so to speak, even if we've shaved it all off."

I watched her go in her tight-fitting leather pants, and wondered if she would even want to a.s.sume the Werewolf Headship. Would I? Did I? With House Rookmaaker?

We hadn't really spent that much time together, Lia and I. Part of me knew that I was guilty of keeping my friends at bay. I hadn't even told her about my HouseBallard either.

The dog star, Canis Major, was bright in the heavens. Lia came back with a newspaper under her arm I saw Gaven give to her.

She scrunched up her eyes at the front-page headlines, folding the paper under her arm. "So..." she said.

"Something wrong?" I asked.

"It's nothing."

I waited for what she had to say. She seemed to drink her drink and ponder what she had just been reading. Weighing it on her Lia scales.

"Right. The race..." she said. That seemed to be what everybody was talking aboutwho would win; who would be the new Il Gatto...

I heard Liesel say to Ballard, who was hanging on her every word, a short distance away: "Greek werewolves actually put Wicca back into its box. Wholesale rejection of magic was key to their philosophy. The Greeks were after a kind of harmony without magic. It was the Romans who let it out of the box again. So I guess we failed in our duty. That was actually what the Renaissance was all about. To try and get back to the Greek perfection. Do away with Magic. Instead, we opened Pandora. You can see the results."

Liesel said: "Know thyself. Nothing in excess. Those were the two rules ancient Greeks lived by. I like this little touch here, you did with my motorcycle."

Ballard licked his lips. "You know we are themthe Greeks," he said.

"I guess what I'm saying," Liesel went on, "is that if I'm elected Head WolfI will try and take us from being out of whack, back to that place of harmony, which is vital if we're to sustain ourselves."

Ballard only nodded.

"Onenessnot twoness," said Liesel. "Maybe, you know, that is why Lia can no longer shift. After all, she's Greek. Maybe she was not supposed to have dabbled in magic."

Lia quirked her eyebrow at me. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" she said, but in a lighthearted way, so that only I could hear.

"It is a little rude," I said.

Together we watched the moon spinning through the galaxy. Geminithe twinsall those.

Lia said, "Pretty soon the werewolves will be sending up white smoke, electing a new leader. Gaven's out. Someone else is in. There will be a new Il Gatto."

"If you mean it can't be you, just because you can't shift" I said.

"Il Gatto is for werewolves only," said Lia.

"We need you, Lia. The pack needs you. Or Gaven. Can't he just hold on?" I was thinking of FDRwho was President of the United States for twelve years. Rules could be broken, term limits stretched, if warranted.

"They'll just see it as Gaven controlling the pack through his werewolf bride-to-be. Bear in mind, to them I'm just a wannabe. They won't go for me being Head Wolf," said Lia.

"If it's a race, they'll have no choice," I said. "How good are you, anyway?"

"You mean, at racing bikes?"

She paused and then her thumbs came up. I saw her Mark. It hadn't changed much, but mine had. I wanted to tell her all about the itching-scratching-burning thing.

"It could be a warning" she said. "If you'll let me, I had a point, though."

"The race, Lia. It's the only way." Then Ballard can come with me, I thought, happily.

"We have something called a Quirinal. It's a therian court of Rome. Locke heads up the Quirinal. He's like a dissenting voice," said Lia. "The Supreme Wolfor I don't know. A counter to the Head Wolf. Not in opposition, just a check, to Il Gatto's power. That way we don't have any Julius Caesars, you know, rogue macho bada.s.ses, who want to commandeer the Pack. Just Coriola.n.u.ses."

"Coriolwhatuses?" I said.

"The name means Defenders of Rome. Us. It prevents warmongering. Having a two-headed monster with Gaven and Locke in charge, prevents any rash decisions. If we wanted to fight, there would be a lot of 'people' we could engage in battle with, you know what I mean? So many people. So many monsters.

"Next point. See," said Lia, "Gaven is very clever. He recognizes change is coming. His, ours, yours, mine, my brother's, the Pack's, Rome's."

...What about my change?

"In a sense, he has consolidated our power. Rome is both a werewolf and a Wiccan town now. Because of youand, well, me and the fact that Risky knew your parents.

"Before you ask," she said, "we don't know anything about that. When Risky was Head, neither one of us, Gaven nor I, was into our cyanthropic primeswe were not werewolves yet. That was before our time. Anyway..." She tapped her finger to her nose and winked at me. "We are linked, you and I. Wicca and werewolves. Wiccawolves. Gaven and the rest. But Locke could destroy all that. Which is why Gaven and I have decided not to go on our honeymoon. We will stay for the time being, to watch over Romeeven if we are on the outside. If what is coming is, it means our plans will have to change." She nodded her head at me. "Change is a good word," she said.

Lia couldn't go away with Gaven, who had to stayand I couldn't stay with Lia, because I had to go away. Selwyn was out there. I couldn't explain it. I just felt that leaving Rome was important. At least temporarily. Everything had been building toward it. And I had to take Ballard with me.

It was quiet while we thoughteverything else cancelled out.

"The Sons and Daughters of Romulus is no longer my House," she said. "But with Gaven as my husband, I'm in. Man and wife is one ent.i.ty, one flesh, kind of like werewolves with their animals. Gaven is my animal and I am his. Plus we love each other. What I'm saying is, regardless that I cannot shift, I am bound to the Sons and Daughters of Romulus through Gaven. He is my blood. My husband. In a sense, I am both a witch and a shifter. A witch shifter. Which is why Gaven made you an honorary member, Halsey. You are a witch, but you are also with us, now, a shifter. A witch and a shifter. So in a sense, we're both Witch Shifters. Haven't you thought that you might enter the race?"

I could feel my mind going fuzzynot unlike the onset of revelationwith the implications of what Lia had just said.

"We bind ourselves with blood. Gaven and I is just another steel hoop. A Wiccan in with werewolves brings Wicca into that House, don't you remember that? That's what the Mistresses said, anyway, and that's what I believe," said Lia. "You are an honorary daughter of this tribe."

"I can't shift," I said.

"Neither can I," said Lia.

"NoI'm not a werewolf. I'm not anything."

"Stop it," she said.

I knew who I sounded like. Like Ballard. Something had been eating him up inside. Maybe the same something which was currently chasing after me. The who am I? question. I needed to check my own inner-luminariumto see what was up. That reminded me...

I fetched my diary from underneath my seat. I had the letter to Ravenseal tucked inside it. "You shouldn't leave that lying around," said Lia, referring to the diary. "In case you missed it, we generally enjoy gossip, werewolves. The more scandalous the better. Somebody might try stealing it."

I nodded, oblivious to the threat. What could happen in Trastevere? Then deposited the envelope in a red mailbox in the walland put my diary back. It reminded me of La Bocca della Verita, the mailbox, the Mouth of Truth, when it snapped shut on my fingers. I was leading people onthe Ravenseals, Ballard; I wasn't telling them what I knew, how I was feelingand Ballard himself had been so transparent. A major steppingstone for him. Lia needed to know about my Wiccan House. And the fact that it was the nearest one. She would not have to go someplace else. Lia could study here in Rome. With me. That was big news. Yet, why wasn't I telling her? It was just as much her House as it was mine.

...About something else I had also been mum, and it was doing things to my head. The fact was, if I instigated a fight by rejecting House Ravensealeven though they had gotten up to some serious shenanigans at the Gatheringand by all rights I belonged to my parents' House Breathe, Halsey. Relax.

Who would defend me? My defenders? Who were they? Lia and Ballard and Gaven and the pack?

I had always felt things were after me. Was I a paranoiac, or had I good reason?

Nosomething was after me. If I could've put a name to it, the hunter. Hadn't Camille described to me the city of Prague, in a scene so long ago I could barely remember it, as the birthspark of Wicca? As being overrun with vampire hunters? And was that who this fellow was?

Was he after Lennox? Or Marek?

The Lenoir had a death warrant out on Marek. Marek told me so.

Were they the ones who were employing this monster? Was it the Master House who was doing it? Sending this thing after me? Was it after me? And my tingling? Did it mean something? Was my Mark giving me premonitions, like my visions had been, visions that had a nasty habit of coming true?

It was like a hallway full of doors had been laid before me. Open this one, go here. Open that one, die.

I could see the Master House, in my mind, with Mistress Ravenseal in tow, saying I told you so; and You better join with me, or else. She was a third-degree, after all. Fledged. Maybe Veruschka knew something I did not. Like who I was.

You didn't think of that, did you, Halsey? I told myself.

What was going on? Was anything going on?

Would I be willing to put my friends in harm's way for something so selfish as my own Wiccan independence? Would they step into the fray on my behalf?

Yes. Immediately, the answer was yes.

Some dogs just like to hunt.

It made me feel bad. And selfish. And like a pariah.

Mistress Genevieve's line about the satellite spinning out of control, came back to me. In a sense, I was a satellite of Ravenseal. Rookmaaker House hived from Pendderwenn, which had hived from House Ravenseal, which was one of the original magical Houses that had split.

But Pendderwenn was not, in truth, emanc.i.p.ated from its parent coven, which was Ravenseal. Pendderwenn was a puppet House. Or had been. It no longer existed. It had been led by a weak number two. Julius Pendderwenn had been merely Adept, when he was killed As I would be, in a year, if things worked out, when I was done being a Neophyteif I matriculated that far, and didn't die.

I had fear of not advancing.

Pendderwenn House had never really broken from Ravenseal. So Rookmaaker breaking from Pendderwenn shouldn't really count, should it?

Genevieve was rightI was too much in my head.

I didn't care. I had to figure this out.

If I rejected the Ravenseals, my House would have a hard time standing on its own, as I was only level one, a Neophyte, and not a Mistress; not capable of leading my own House. Nor was I exactly legally allowed to do so. There were rules against it, but there was also the fact that the Lenoir upheld the rules, and as they had allowed Julius Pendderwenn to lead his House (and he was a guy, and only adept)....

Maybe you could break the rules so long as you still appeared weak? It was only when Houses got too big...

I couldn't let the werewolves stand in for me. I wouldn't. Whatever was coming, I would have to face it alone. Or with Ballard. Perhaps that was why I had felt so reticent about sharing the fact that Rookmaaker House existed at all. Had Selwyn told anyone? The rest of the magical world had known about my House. They had sent me a Marker. I had it safely sealed away in my Diary.

Lia...

She would have to study somewhere.

I looked at her. She was wearing long sleeves, manica langas. But that may have just been the weather. Rome was cold. Almost like the winter, which had been freezing in Paris, had crept down to the other magical cities: Rome and Prague.

You to your corner, we to ours.

"Lia, is anything happening with your Mark?" I asked. "Ballard made it sound like you may have had something going on."

"I'm perfectly all right," she said. "I haven't been practicing, but everything's all right. Are you okay?"

I said that I was fine, which, I didn't know why I said that; just that I didn't want Lia to get involved. I didn't want people worrying about me. Lia had her wedding. And the fact her whole family was coming into town. Gaven was calling her. It was a weird night. Lonesomelike.

"Can you hold that?" she said. She ran and jumped into his arms.

Maybe I was just in a funk. It really was the first time I felt alone since I had come to Rome. Spiritually, emotionally. I flipped open the newspaper and looked at the front page.

IMMOLATION RESPONSIBLE FOR GRAVE SCENE INSIDE PeRE LACHAISE.

PARISFor generations, Paris youth have partied openly at the gravesites of some of History's most famous dead people. Lighting candles, drinking beer. An activity which has been called into question, of late, following the discovery, over night, of two bodies authorities say spontaneously combusted. Paraphernalia found near the corpses suggests they were up to no good.

According to one investigator, who spoke on condition of anonymity, "as this is still an open case," he said, "and I don't want this psychopath doubling back on me," there was another set of footprints there.

According to the source, they're looking for somebody who may be on a lunar schedule. "A lone wolf. A rogue, as they're referred, with abnormally-shaped feet. He left paw prints behind."

This rogue is considered armed and considerably dangerous. "How else did he fry those two individuals?"

Europol has posted a red notice along with a descriptor index of the subject. Be on the lookout for anyone with signs of hypertrichosis: a hairy disorder which makes you break out in fur, and perhaps, dog feet.

As is typical with arsonists, they always come back.

As if, on cue, my Mark began p.r.i.c.kling again. I rubbed it surrept.i.tiously, stifling the impulse to say ow. There was a picture of Emmanuela Skarborough, Ballard's cousin, underneath her byline. Although she did not become a werewolf, any doubts I had that Skarborough did not know of the supernatural world, were quickly a.s.suaged. I wondered briefly what would happen if they found out about all of us? The normal people, I meant. Would it be werewolves and witches versus people in tanks? Or vampires versus the Vatican? I hoped we never found out. Something told me the supernaturals would have a field day. Why hadn't Ballard mentioned anything to me about this? And why were the werwolves so interested in it?

I could answer that.

Because werewolves in Paris was strictly forbidden, just as vampires in Rome was. And this hunter read like he was a werewolf. I sighed. You to your corner, we to ours.

Should I tell Ballard and his family about what I had seen?

Paris will blame Rome.... I thought. Especially as it's in the news. The Lenoir don't like that. They prefer to keep things as quiet as possible. But then, this thing, whatever it isman or beast, or man-beastmust be I Gatti. I mean, what other werewolves are there?

Paris must experience enough murders, without the werewolves contributing to them. They are vampires, after all.

I needed to talk to Lennox. Somebody. Anybody. Lia, Gaven...

But I couldn't bother them. Lia looked so happy. Gaven too. They were dancing, the music spilling out of La Luna Blu, along with the rest of the werewolves.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. It was imperative Ballard and I work together. But, why hadn't he told me?

The days were pa.s.sing rapidly. Apparently Ravenseal got my letter, because they never sent their man. We were already well into January, with still no Lennox. Wherever he was, I hoped he had a good reason for abandoning me? Otherwise, why be so cruel? I decided not to bother Dallace and Camille with this. They would just get worried. But then I remembered.

One of Camille's gifts was she could sense where people were at. And how they were doing. Since she hadn't told me about Lennox, I figured he was okay. The alternative was Lennox was dead, or just didn't want to see me anymore. In which case, Camille would inform me as soon as possible. And that would be that. The fact that she didn't, meant that he was still alive. A small but solid comfort!