Chapter 10

"I think tailing Claira took something out of her." He admitted quietly, reaching out to pull Bastet into his arms, bending down to press his forehead to hers. "And… she's old, darlin'," Cats, house cats, could live up to 17 years… and Bastet was almost as old as he was. Her lifespan had been enhanced because of him. "Maybe mortality is starting to catch up with her." Mark hated those words, they were so bitter on his tongue and he blinked back wetness, feeling and hearing her purring as if to reassure him.

"Mark…w-what happens to her when she…goes?" Brooklynn did not want to ask him that question, but…they had to prepare themselves. They had to prepare for the inevitable and she refused to let anyone dispose of Bastet's body, if that was the case. "Does she disappear or…is it like when an actual cat dies?"

She couldn't stop crying, her heartbreaking because Bastet was one of her best friends, her confidante and had kept her grounded during the pregnancy with Claira. Brooklynn couldn't begin imagining how this made Mark feel and reached out to rest a hand on his arm, sniffling. He didn't answer her, simply stared down at his Familiar, his most trusted, constant friend and his guard… frowning, he stood, cradling Bastet against him.

"I'll go get Claira." He said finally, stiffly.

Mark wasn't angry with Brooklynn. He understood her questions, but that did not mean he wanted to acknowledge that they would soon find out. His heart was doing some really painful things in his chest and a choked laugh escaped him when Bastet purposefully placed a paw right over his heart.

"No, you need to stay here with her." Brooklynn stopped him, standing from the bed to dress and wiped her tears away, needing to dry it up. Claira didn't need to know what was going on, not right now anyway. "I'll go get her, you stay here with Bastet and spend time with her."

Not giving Mark time to protest, Brooklynn brushed her lips against his and headed out of the house with keys in hand, needing some fresh air. That dream…it still made her tremble and she was terrified of the possibility of that monster returning. No, it would never happen. Mark wouldn't let it. Pulling out of the driveway, Brooklynn headed toward the school and sent a text to Trish, telling her this weekend wasn't a good time. She'd let her know when a weekend opened up for them and tossed her phone back in her purse, doing everything in her power not to start crying again.

Frowning, Trish stared at the text message, her brown eyes thoughtful as she held the cell in her palm. Her eyes went wide as tunnel vision kicked in, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. It had been quite some time since the last time this had happened. Back in the day, they had been a group, each one bringing something to the table so to speak. However, with Nemesis gone, they had parted ways, living their lives… that didn't mean their gifts didn't kick in from time to time. Like now.

Mark locked himself in the bedroom with his books and his cat, curled around Bastet protectively as he began reading. Now it wasn't just for binding his daughter that he was reading for. He was going to find a way to fix Bastet, or extend her life, more.

"Where's Dad?" Claira asked, her way of greeting her mother and buckled up, setting her bookbag in front of her.

Seth was not happy at the fact she was grounded and had been cut off from him. He was uneasy, edgy and had snapped on her today about not standing up to her parents. What did he expect her to do? Until she was 18, Claira had to follow her parents' rules, unfortunately.

Claira didn't care about Bastet and made it clear she wished the cat died on more than one occasion. "Your father is busy and wants to be left alone." It was the first time she had spoken to Claira in 2 days. "I mean it, Claira, not today with you bullshit, understand me?" Her voice was full of anguish, pain and sorrow, not bothering to hide it.

Obviously, something was wrong and Claira didn't know if she should push the issue about this grounding or be concerned about her Dad. He was never too busy for her, and the tone in her mother's voice set her on edge, made her uneasy. Sure, her parents were asshats on occasion, but she still loved them, most of the time.

"Is he okay?" She asked quietly. "Did something happen to Bastet?"

Claira had her issues with the cat, mostly because Bastet had been up her backside for a while now and it was annoying, but she knew what the pet meant to her Dad. Well, not a pet. Bastet was his Familiar, his lifetime companion, she got that. She knew she was eventually meant to have one, providing he ever gave her back her magic.

There was a time to be straightforward with her daughter and a time to lie out of her backside. Claira was 16, highly intelligent and had deduced quickly something wasn't right. "Bastet is dying, Claira." Honesty was the best way to go right now as fresh tears burned Brooklynn's eyes. "I don't know how long she has left…and I made your father stay behind to be with her, to spend time with her. This won't be easy for him, but we'll get through it like we've gotten through everything else. There will be no fighting tonight, so if you have something to say to me, now is the time to do it before we get home."

"How do you know Bastet is dying? I thought she was just not feeling good is all." Claira asked curiously. Bastet was old, sure, but the fat cat still managed to get around and she knew it was because Familiar's lives were tied to their Witch or Warlock. In theory, Bastet shouldn't be capable of dying unless her Dad was dying and she paled. "Is Dad sick? Is Dad dying?!" She demanded, shifting in her seat to stare at her mother intently.

Her Dad knew all of this, he was the one who had told her everything she knew regarding magic, so… two and two, she didn't like how they equaled up. There was one other possibility a Familiar could be killed without harming the lifeline it was attached to. Intentionally. Who the hell would try to hurt Bastet though? It didn't make sense, maybe it really was the immortality weighing heavily on the poor animal.

"No, your father is fine. I don't know what's going on with Bastet, but…your father is distraught and I'm sure he's going to do everything he can to help her." The research on Claira would be put on the backburner until they figured out what was going on with their cat. Brooklynn couldn't think about this anymore and changed the subject, rubbing her temples. "For Spring Break, we're going away for the week you're off school to D.C. to see Melina, David and the kids. Melina is pregnant again."

Well, that was interesting. "Did she see that coming?"

Melina was a fortune teller, an old-fashioned palm reader, not that Claira had ever let Melina near her palms. She rather enjoyed the concept of being surprised, though… she might not mind so much right now. Maybe she'd be able to find out if she was ever going to be ungrounded. When there was an actual twitch of her Mom's lips, like she may actually smile, Claira giggled before turning her attention out the window. Spring break in D.C., that was not exactly how she had planned to spend her week, but right now wasn't the time to be arguing about it.

"It was a…surprise to both of them." There was NO way in HELL she was talking to her daughter about how Melina and David had wild, crazy drunk sex that lead to baby #4. She'd had the birds and bees talk with Claira once and that was more than enough to last Brooklynn a lifetime. Possibly two. "If you're good for the night and don't cause any problems or arguments, I'll give you your phone back this weekend." It was only a few days away since today was Wednesday. "Deal?"

That was a hell of a lot sooner than the original shebang; Claira knew when to shut up and just nod her head. It was a little bothersome that she was being bribed to be good, or maybe she was just that big of a douchebag lately. Her parents just didn't understand what it was to be in love though and then have that ripped away in the blink of an eye. They had been together forever, it seemed.

"I've got homework, I'll stay in my room."

Nodding, Brooklynn had nothing more to say to Claira and sucked in a shaky breath once she pulled into the driveway. The storm raged harder outside, the rain stinging their skin as soon as they were out of the car running for the front door. "Stay put, I'll get you a towel." She ordered, not wanting water droplets all over the place and rushed off to get towels, after they were both undressed to their undergarments, shoes and socks off as well. "Here." She tossed a towel at Claira while one was wrapped around her body, not believing the hellacious storm going on outside. Was it magic based?

Claira hated storms with a passion. Storms always seemed to be the time when ghosts came out in force. She had asked once and her Mom had explained that the electricity fed the spirits, made sense. Something to do with their kinetic energy. She tried to ignore spirits, ghosts, whatever. Claira had absolutely no interest in helping them, especially since there WERE bad spirits who could hurt her.

"Thanks." She wrapped herself up before making a beeline for her bedroom for unseasonal sweats.

The power was out. Brilliant. This day couldn't get any worse. Brooklynn slid her fingers through her drenched hair, not believing how soaked they became within seconds of exiting the car. She sifted through some cupboards and pulled out candles, beginning to light them all around the house for some kind of light. Then, she headed upstairs to the bedroom and slid her fingers down the door before softly knocking, hearing the lock slide out of place a few seconds later.

The room had candles lit all over it, some white and some black, random sigils all over as well in white chalk. Mark was concentrating, chanting in tongues with his fingers spread and Bastet was in the middle of what looked to be a pentagram. She didn't say a word and simply walked over to her dresser to grab fresh clothes before heading into the bathroom, not wanting to bother him.

As long as she stayed away from him, she wasn't bothering him, but if she got to close, she was going to wind up breaking the circle he had cast. This was more of Mickie's thing, not his. Even as he was now, he knew he still tended to walk that fine line and still managed to lean into the darkness. It was who he was, deep down, and they all knew it.

Claira was going to have to wait; he needed to make sure Bastet would be all right, even if it meant dropping the binding on Claira's own magic so he could put his entire focus onto this. After she was changed, Brooklynn made her way out of the room, closing the door silently behind her and went downstairs to give Mark complete privacy. She sat on the couch, burying her face in her hands and jumped when her cell phone began ringing, blinking at the sight of the name on the caller ID.

"H-Hello?"

"Brooklynn, what the hell is going on?" Mickie demanded, holding her hand up at John walking into the room and immediately pointed at him to get lost. "Trish called me freaking out because she had a vision of you, Bastet and…Him." She didn't dare mention the name; nobody did. "Are you okay?"

"Fuck…" Brooklynn cursed, standing from the couch and didn't want to deal with this right now, but it looked as though she had no choice. "Yeah…I had a nightmare with Him in it. I don't know where it came from, but when I woke up, Bastet was right beside me and…" The tears formed again. "S-She's not doing good, Mickie…something's wrong…"

"God, he's not going to try healing her, is he?" Mickie asked flatly, knowing Mark's brand of magic wasn't usually meant for healing anything except himself. She knew the Familiar was connected to him, but… "Do you want me to come out and have a look at her?"

Mickie's magic was of the 'good' variety, and she had her own Credes and codes she lived by. An unfortunate side effect of her and Mark's magic, when together, was that they clashed. If left unchecked, they tended to make each other ill. Fortunately, they had learned how to check that.

"I-I don't know…I don't think that's a good idea, not with the mood he's in right now." Brooklynn could feel the house darkening with his magic and felt uneasy because it reminded her of Undertaker, frowning. "I mean, I can ask him and see what he says, but he's probably going to say no. Bastet has been with him since the beginning, this isn't going to be easy for him to get through." Maybe she should run out to the liquor store and grab some whiskey for him. Tonight just seemed to be the night for drinking. "Do you think Bastet is connected to my dream somehow? Is that why Trish called?"

"I think that's what she's worried about and I'm coming." Mickie had made up her mind. "Two Witches are better than one and, if his magic doesn't work, maybe mine will." She had learned some animal-based magic due to all the pets they tended to have: kids. And John. John liked his dogs and fish. "Just… if you see acid green, run." She hung up, frowning as she stared down at the hair on her arm. It was standing.

"Fuck." Brooklynn cursed, knowing once Mickie's mind was made up, nothing and nobody could change it.

She sighed, not wanting to break this news to Mark, but…it had to be done. Heading up the stairs, she jumped when she heard a growling sound through the door and swallowed hard, hoping he didn't bite her head off for simply delivering some news. Mickie could potentially help them; she hoped anyway because losing Bastet would destroy Mark. Tapping gently on the door, Brooklynn waited to hear the door unlock and stepped into the room, keeping her distance.

"Mickie is on her way here. I tried telling her now isn't a good time, but she said two witches…warlocks…are better than one and she thinks she can help with Bastet. I just…thought you should know…" Their kitchen was still a disaster.

"Whiskey, when you go out, please." He requested, without turning around, barely acknowledging the Mickie thing. Leave it to that wanna-be Glinda the Good to come rushing to save the kitty cat. Hell, maybe she'd be able to do something; he wasn't above letting her have a go, not when it came to his cat. "Cash in my wallet, grab something for you and Claira to eat, darlin'."

"I'm not hungry, but I'll grab Claira something." She replied quietly, wanting to go to him and hold him close, to do what she could to take his pain away. Nothing would though. He was losing his confidante, his best friend, besides her, the one being that had been constant in his life since the very beginning. "I'll be back soon. I love you, Mark." Brooklynn walked out and went to her daughter's room, trying like hell to blink the tears away. "Claira, what do you want for dinner? I'm running out for a minute."

"Subway sandwich is fine if that's not too much trouble."

Brooklynn already knew which kind and nodded, closing the door before heading out the house, sliding behind the wheel as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

Once she saw her Mom's vehicle disappear around the corner, Claira walked out of her room and headed towards her parents. She knew better than to go in and just stood outside the door, leaning in to press her head against the wood, listening. Claira could smell something in the air, she could almost hear the vibration of magic. If Bastet died, what would happen to her Dad?