Family Reunion
Ten years later…
Ysabelle Sena celebrated the death of her daughter and the birth of her granddaughter the same way she always did. As the sun began its early descent, she began preparing her meal – Maria's favorite hearty stew. She left her kitchen door open and lit all the candles in the room, believing it harkened back to a simpler time. Of course, the humming of the refrigerator and the blinking light on the microwave tended to bring her back into the twenty first century – but that was only when she dared to look at either. Otherwise, she kept her back to both appliances, sitting instead at the kitchen island and waited.
In the beginning Juliano had joined her, bringing Robin with him. They would hold a simple celebration, eating dinner and drinking wine, all the while enjoying the company of their shared grandchild, and remembering Maria in their own way. In the back of their minds - and Ysabelle's psychic power was just strong enough that she knew that Juliano thought the same thoughts - they wondered how their world would have been different if Maria had been alive.
One could go mad from wondering the infinite what-could-have-been, and so Ysabelle wove a single thread in her mind, where Maria had not died and she and Robin had lived happily ever after.
At Robin's first birthday, the three had sat around the table, Juliano and Ysabelle not speaking much other than to talk about the three holiest of holies: politics, the church, and soccer. Robin had sat in her highchair, her green eyes looking at Ysabelle with quiet calm. She was the exact replica of Maria at the same age, even though Ysabelle constantly looked for any signs of Asian ancestry.
But other than looks, she was not anything like her mother, her voice soft and she never fit to tantrums… ah, Maria had been a child of extremes, going from hellcat to angel in a blink of an eye while Robin was steadier, her demeanor constantly peaceful.
That first year, Ysabelle had looked at her then and said to Juliano, "She is as serious as her father, I suppose."
Juliano had grunted, not wanting to discuss the man. A few weeks after Maria's death, Hiroshi Toudou had disappeared from the face of the earth. He knew little about the assassination, other than that Roman had asked someone outside of the main group of Hunters to do it. Juliano had his guesses – and they were all but confirmed when Margaret's had accepted a high ranking position at Solomon, assistant to the Director of the Rome branch.
Though he had never thought Margaret capable of killing someone without a Craft.
A few years later, when she was almost four, Robin had shown signs of the Craft. Ysabelle had been proud, fire in the Sena family ran true. She had also understood when Juliano had informed her that Sienna Lucas would be training Robin in her Craft. Sienna was the most powerful of the fire elementals in the world and Ysabelle had always doted on Roman's girl, no matter what she felt about him.
But Ysabelle had still been shocked when Juliano had not brought Robin that Christmas. Even if Juliano had moved hundreds of miles away, Ysabelle had never asked for more than the few days at the end of the year.
He had refused to answer her letters and in the end Ysabelle knew better than to fight against the wall he constructed. Especially since part of her knew it was Roman acting through his most efficient weapon, Juliano Colegui. They had old scores to settle, after all.
The year Robin turned seven, Roman died in his sleep. Ysabelle's intuition told her that someone had finally struck at the heart of the organization, wanting to test if it could survive the death of such a powerful patriarch, but she had no proof and nor desire to find out if Roman's demise was natural or not. She was just glad that he was gone.
It was Roman's oldest son, Carlo, who had risen above the ranks, surprising everyone in the community. It had shocked Ysabelle, since Sienna was the most powerful of Roman's children and the one who rightfully deserved the position.
Another setback meant a little more waiting for those that had opposed Roman's ascension in the first place almost twenty five years earlier. Arianne Lucas, strong-willed matriarch had always had too soft a spot for her oldest child. Where Jane, her second child should have led, Arianne by will alone pushed Roman as her successor.
Even Ysabelle had not argued with her mentor, but when Arianne had died, she had retreated as had many of the old guard. Roman kept an eye on them, fearing that they would somehow stage a coup. He had been a fool, to think that these witches would not look towards the future generation for their answer. Arianne's blood ran in Sienna, it was answer enough.
Except Carlo –Carlo with his beautiful smile – had a little more of his grandmother's steel than any of them suspected. Head of Solomon Security in the Americas, he had used that as his selling point. They will not follow her. I guarantee it.
Of course Ysabelle had heard this all from Patrcio, one of the few friends she had remaining on the Grand Counsel. So Carlo had risen, and Sienna bided her time. For Ysabelle, her small world remained the same, even if the world outside her changed.
Margaret had taken Juliano's place as her winter solstice companion by then. Mother and daughter would sit around the kitchen, not much said between them either. In the beginning Margaret's position in Solomon did not sit well with Ysabelle – Roman was still dangerous and she didn't want her only child so close to his striking range, but she understood the fascination the organization held. Had Roman not ruled, Ysabelle was positive she would still be sitting on the Grand Counsel. When Roman died, Carlo seemed to lead in the same way, with steel instead of instinct, with the ways of a businessman instead of the ways of a witch; the needs of Solomon International superceding the needs of the Grand Counsel.
Yet Margaret's position was secure, and Carlo held none of the old grudges. So the rift between mother and daughter was, if anything, slight. Truth be told, Ysabelle was very proud of Margaret.
So it was this night, a decade since her daughter had died and her granddaughter born, that Ysabelle waited for Margaret. Though her thoughts, as on every winter solstice, turned to Robin.
I can't believe my little girl is ten tonight. Maria, if you could only see her now. Goddess, if only I could see her now, Ysabelle thought as she lifted the lid over her stew. She had always been a good cook one able to appreciate her own meals, maybe a little much, Ysabelle thought as she noticed her dress was fitting a little snug. But the New Year was days away, she had time to make resolutions.
A rustling by the door and Ysabelle turned her head quickly expecting to see her daughter and maybe her grandsons. Jakob was nine this year and Martin six. Ysabelle did not have much experience with boy children, but they made her smile just the same.
She had not expected the young woman who stood half inside her kitchen. She wore a long hooded coat, the color of crimson, her profile peeking out of the dark folds.
"Sienna?" Ysabelle wiped her hands on her apron, moving forward to greet the young woman who had been Maria's best friend.
"Hello, Ysabelle. Blessings to you on this longest night," Sienna offered. "May I join you?"
Ysabelle furrowed her brows, wondering if some fool at Solomon had finally gotten it into his head that Ysabelle Sena, the herbal healer, the midwife, the witch, had become dangerous enough to be hunted.
The thought fell away, as Sienna removed her coat, her face sparkling with a ghost of her grandmother's smile. Arianne's granddaughter was what they all fought for, the continuation of an ancient line, ancient Crafts.
"I bring a peace offering," Sienna added, and stepped into the room, motioning with her hands.
A group of youngsters followed. Two girls and two boys of varying heights, but it was the one girl who moved to the front of the group, dressed simply in a green knit poncho over denim jeans, who caught Ysabelle's eyes. She was tall, lanky, her dark blonde hair caught in unusual… pigtails Ysbabelle supposed, though how she got them stiff enough to stick out of her head baffled the older woman. The face though was unmistakable – it was as if Maria were ten again.
"Happy Birthday, Robin," Ysabelle said her heart lurching as she got a good look at her granddaughter for the first time in six years.
A flicker of recognition crossed her face and she nodded as she stepped forward, "Thank you, Grandmother, though it's not for a few more hours."
"Yes, I suppose you're right," Ysabelle said as they stood a few inches apart. Ysabelle knew better than to smother the girl with kisses – they were strangers in a way after all.
"I know I should have called, Ysabelle… but we wanted it to be a surprise…" Sienna continued and when Ysabelle looked up she had a man standing next to her. Even if she had not known him, there was no mistaking what he was. Hunter. Dressed in casual black pants and a matching turtleneck sweater, his eyes gave the room the once over. It had not changed since he had last stepped foot here over ten years ago.
But of course Ysabelle knew him. Juliano's protégé, Colin Richards, and another good friend of Maria's. They had all been friends then: Margaret, Maria, Colin, and Sienna. Though she could see that the childhood crush between the two had made way for something much more.
"So you are her Consort, then?" The three children looked at each other, a secret word no one was supposed to say – not in front of Robin, Ysabelle guessed – but Sienna's smile put them at ease and they tentatively began taking chairs around the island. Robin seemed not to notice and moved to stand closer to Ysabelle as she headed back towards the stove. "Do you like stew, my child?"
"Yes, Grandmother," she answered and when Ysabelle went to stir the girl interrupted putting her hand over Ysabelle's, "Can I help? Please?"
They were family after all, Ysabelle thought as the lump formed in her throat. Robin squeezed her hand and Ysabelle nodded, finally putting a kiss on the girl's forehead.
"Of course. Watch it and stir while I get the salad out."
Sienna moved forward then, "Let me help, Ysabelle. We are the ones intruding on you… I hope that you have enough food?"
Ysabelle took measure of the boys only. They were thin, which meant they were probably voracious eaters who spent all their calories on sports and the like. It was that way with Jakob and Martin. "I always cook for an army during the winter solstice, Sienna… It is a habit I have been unable to break."
"Boys, Shaelyn," Colin called and the three slid off their seats. "Ask the Mistress here if she needs additional help."
"No, no. Have a seat. Though, if someone would grab the antipasto plate in the fridge, they can munch on that until dinner's ready – ten minutes… There's also bread on the counter behind you, Colin, if you could bring that to the table?"
Colin obeyed as if he were still a teenager himself instead of almost thirty.
And, yes," Sienna whispered as she helped prepare the salad, "he is my Consort."
"These children seemed versed in the ways of the Lucas clan… and that one there has the look of his father if I'm not mistaken."
The taller of the two boys turned, hearing the comment, and blushed before standing to keep busy while the other two children immediately began picking at the olives and nuts on the platter he set before them.
"Your eyes are never mistaken, Ysabelle. That is of course, Nicholas… Carlo's son. The two others are twins, Shaelyn and Jason Edwards –"
"Your mother is Jessica Lucas then?" Ysabelle asked the girl. Though the twins were both brunettes while most of the Lucas clan was blessed with all shades of blonde, there was the look of Roman's youngest sister in them. They bred true, the Lucas clan, with their blue eyes.
"Yes, grandmother," The girl answered… "Can we call you grandmother? Since Robin does?"
"I would be honored… You've all been touched by Arianne," Ysabelle noted, invoking Sienna's grandmother's name. The aristocratic shape of the eyes and nose were completely inherited from Arianne. She missed the old woman dearly.
The sounds of the kitchen stopped as if marking a moment of silence for the woman who had set in motion the new age of Solomon.
"Margaret asked that I come and bring Robin… I would have brought her sooner, but power is not quickly gathered in Solomon," Sienna apologized a short while later. "And it took a while to collect enough courage to go behind Father Juliano's back."
"Even for one such as yourself?" Ysabelle asked, but her tone was teasing. She was reminded of two young girls, silly with youth, but also wrought with ambition. Even as a young teenager, Sienna had planned that she would be Chairman of Solomon after her father, and Maria would rule at her side. Margaret, Sienna had decided, was too anti-establishment and kept creating liaison titles for her.
None of them had looked too hard in the future.
"Yes, we all had to start in the proverbial mailroom, didn't we? Even Nicholas spent last week being a messenger boy in Rome."
"I had a Mercedes escort," Nicholas replied sardonically as he found the plates in a cupboard and brought them to the table. He shook his head, "I wish I had anonymity."
"They will let you test your wings, eventually," Ysabelle promised, "and you will someday wish that you were this young again. Don't chase after adulthood and responsibility too quickly, Nicholas Lucas. It will find you soon enough."
"I guess I'm not complaining too much. Shaelyn and Robin had to sit in on a meeting with Father and His Holy Eminence last week."
So they were training Robin in the ways of Solomon. Perhaps she would escape the fate of Hunter, though Ysabelle doubted it. It was what she had done in her early days even after Arianne had pulled her into the secrets workings of the Organization.
"What is your power, child?" Ysabelle asked the other young girl as she brought the silverware out.
"I can make anyone stronger," Shae answered proudly. The Lucas Crafts ran true, generations later.
"And you boys? Did the unpower run true in you?" Ysabelle asked, naming another of their Craft.
They nodded. The ability to stop Craft use was one of the greatest of the Lucas gifts and only passed to males in the line. Henri Lucas had inherited the power of complete control – a Craft thought lost to them. He could activate the Craft in a Seed or take a Witch and remove the Craft for short periods. A confirmed bachelor, Ysabelle wondered if that dual power would again be dormant if he did not have children.
"Grandmother, the stew is ready," Robin spoke and both Sienna and Ysabelle made their way to the stove to taste it one last time. Both gave their approval in short order and Robin began opening cupboards looking for the bowls.
"We should wait a few more minutes," Sienna said though a few seconds later a group of four entered the small kitchen.
"Mother!" Margaret entered in her usual flamboyant style flinging back her hood to reveal her vivid blue eyes. She opened her arms and pressed a kiss on the two children at the end of the table, before moving to Robin, Sienna, and then finally Ysabelle. "We're all here, Mother…Rupert and the boys too."
Ysabelle exchanged kisses with her son-in-law, Rupert Lang. He was a burly man, towering over the entire group except for Colin, though he probably outweighed Colin by an easy forty pounds. Giving her a hug, he said, "Merry Christmas."
"Thank you, Rupert," though her eyes twinkled. They believed in older gods.
"We brought food, and don't worry as I had it prepared by our cook. There is no way I allowed Margaret into the kitchen, Ysabelle."
They laughed and even Margaret gave in good naturedly. The boys set the food on the stove and then went through their grandmother's kitchen with the ease of two who felt at home. Jakob transferred the chicken into a big platter, while his young brother managed to get most of the pasta into another dish. Behind them, Rupert reached for both plates and brought them over to the table.
Ysabelle, from the corner of her eyes, watched as Jakob maneuvered around Robin and when they exchanged friendly cheek kisses, a pang touched the deepest recess of her soul… Juliano has allowed them contact. He has refused me, but let my grandchildren get to know each other… Old man, I do not know whether to hate you for the slight or forgive you letting them know they are family.
She shook all thoughts of Juliano aside and called them all to dinner. "Robin, would you like to pray?"
Robin nodded, it was a role she was delegated to often when Juliano was not in residence. She made her way to the head of the table, standing between Sienna and Ysabelle. Reaching for her grandmother's hand, warm to the touch, and Sienna's, she started, "Please, bow your heads."
"Thank you, my child," Ysabelle said to Sienna as the women sat gathered around the great fire in the living room. "To both of you. Margaret for thinking of me, and to you Sienna for bringing Robin… Thank you very much."
The women exchanged glances. The men sat with their backs against the stairwell comfortable as they shared a bottle of fifty year old port. The children had fallen asleep hours ago, piling blankets atop three sleeping mats. Robin and Shaelyn had moved to one end, their heads close together as if they had fallen asleep between whispering secrets. Shaelyn's back was propped against her twin's and the other boys were scattered after him. Someone snored, punctuating the even breathing of the other children, every so often and that brought a smile to Ysabelle's lips.
Ysabelle was content. But she was also no fool. Letting the silence linger for a few moments longer, she could feel the anticipation growing between both the younger women. Colin and Rupert were deep in their cups, not caring on where the night would lead, though Ysabelle figured both were probably aware of what the situation was. She was the only innocent adult in the room, and it felt good to be oblivious, if only for a second.
Ysabelle regarded the two women occupying the recliners – Margaret had insisted on updating her mother's furniture – both seemed ageless in the firelight.
A natural blonde, Margaret had taken to dying her hair an almost copper color, which offset the freckles at the bridge of her nose. She was shorter than Sienna, but exuded an equal amount of confidence.
Sienna's hair was so blonde it almost white. She wore it impishly short, though had worn it in long curls when Maria had been alive. She had inherited Arianne's eyes and Ysabelle had noted Nicholas' shared them as well, the blue-gray of a gathering storm.
It was these same eyes – an echo of the past – that Ysabelle found staring at her when she finally looked away from the flames, "So tell me then, Arianne's progeny, Roman's child… what is it that you require of me?"
Sienna paused, looking for the right words. Tonight she was laying more of her groundwork towards a future she wanted to see in her lifetime, "A confirmation, Matriarch."
Ysabelle frowned. She had not heard the title used in decades, and the last time it had been said to her own grandmother dead over half a century. She supposed that she was Matriarch of the Sena line. Not such a sad little line with Margaret in full power and the boys showing signs of older Craft, Jakob had a touch of the earth elemental like his mother, Martin had the showings of a full blown psychic, and of course Robin's Craft had manifested very early.
"Yes, child?"
"There is a rumor that an ageless one lives in Tokyo, Japan at the heart of a walled city. She moved there, it is said, after the second Great War and was ancient even then."
Ysabelle heart stopped. Abigail. They are talking about Abigail.
"What was her name, Matriarch?"
"Abigail. Abigail Walters."
"A Salem witch."
"No, child… The Salem witch. The priestess of the Salem Coven itself, though it was a traditional coven without blood ties – except for Abigail and her sister."
"Jane," Sienna replied. In her head, she could hear the words spoken by Patricio only weeks before… Jane Walters begat Arianne, two hundred years after the last of the coven had fell, and Arianne entering her second century begat Roman, Jane, Alison, and Jessica.
It was from this line of witches – for she had no qualms about what she was, none of the founding families did – that Sienna could trace her direct ancestry to the Salem witches. The witches who were the founders of Solomon itself. Not the innocents who had died by fire, water, and mob… no, the true witches, most of whom had survived and who with their children had found sanctuary in New York.
The story was one only the direct descendents of those fifteen families and their most trusted were privy to. Even Juliano, as high ranking as he was, did not know the true origins of Solomon International. Roman had seen the fear of God in Juliano's eyes and had kept the truth from his dearest friend.
From New York, some of them had taken flight to start their Covens around the world. But it was in New York that those fifteen families had laid the foundation for Solomon, christened after the great biblical king's who knew the names of all demons released into the world.
The founding families created the Grand Counsel to continue the Salem witches' original pursuit: to protect their future. Solomon International was used to effect that goal and also carry out their second pursuit: destroy those that stood in their way.
The first Chairman of Solomon International, and by extension, Chairman of the Grand Counsel had been Jane Walters. She had ruled for almost two centuries before the torched was passed to Arianne, then Roman, and finally Carlo.
Three hundred twenty years later after the last witch burned in America, Solomon had almost accomplished both its goal in the United States and in most European countries.
But in a few places Roman had made some concessions. In Italy, France, and the Iberian Peninsula, they had allowed the Church too much interference and many of the branches were run with almost religious zeal by Priests and Nuns whose first loyalty was to the Holy See.
In these countries, it was a sect within the Church that decided which witches were to live or die, and in many instances some of the souls had never been asked if they would prefer to live in a structured coven. It had been the same sect that had run the Spanish Inquisition.
Yet even these countries were light years ahead of Japan when it came to the treatment of witches. A tenuous truce existed between Solomon and the Church. The latter ignored the existence of covens in the former, but they understood on some level that covens did exist.
In Japan no coven existed. The Methuselah had vowed it so.
"She is my great aunt, the one they call Methuselah?" Sienna inquired. Proof if you require it. Ask the Sena Matriarch who I am. And we shall agree on a plan of action perhaps.
"Yes. Abigail Walters had defied even the odds of her clan and lived hundreds of years beyond even their extended span."
"Why?" Margaret asked, her arms folded on the arm of the chair as she stared at the fires. "Why has she survived so long?"
"I believe it is because she never had children. Once Jane had Arianne, her life began to slow to a normal pace and she died before Arianne was even fifty. Arianne had children much earlier than her mother… and so we lost her much earlier. But Abigail was always too busy to have children."
"A virgin witch?" Sienna asked.
Ysabelle chuckled, "What witch remains a virgin for very long?"
"Mother," Margaret admonished but did not hide her own smile.
"Now, Sienna, what reason have you to be interested in Abigail? She alone of all the Witches wanted no part in Solomon. She went so far as to have her sister promise her that Solomon would not interfere with Japan."
"There has been a Solomon Branch in Japan for fifty years, Ysabelle," Sienna reminded.
"And who of the Fifteen Families sits in Japan? What great witch in Japan has been asked to start a Coven? The answer to both is no one. That is what Abigail cared about. She believes that witches were persecuted when they tried to integrate themselves with mainstream society. She wants none of that for her beloved Japan."
"Do you believe that?" Margaret asked. "Is that why you no longer take part in the Grand Counsel? Because you believe we should live outside the laws of man?"
"You have bought into part of the propaganda, Margaret. There is no outside of man. We are Mankind and Mankind is us. Something in witches broke thousands of years ago and our numbers dwindled. Whether human and witch were separate races before that has not mattered in tens of thousands of years. We interbred and now you cannot separate the one from the other. Human history is recorded in its DNA, our Craft is recorded in our DNA… and I tell you this now, both strands are the same. The genes lie dormant in every human being out there. Every single one."
"Then why continue Solomon?" Margaret asked. "Why not disband?" A challenge from daughter to mother.
"Because as people still believe that the color of your skin matters and agencies exist to erase that myth, so it is the same with Craft. Solomon continues so that humanity does not wipe out its witch blood. I do not believe in the current leadership, but I believe in the organization. Do not mistake the two."
"She understands that – finally," Sienna whispered, "that we are relevant. That Japan is becoming immaterial. She has asked for my help."
"Abigail?" Ysabelle asked. "She has contacted you?"
Sienna nodded. "Abigail would like it to stop complete destruction of the witches in Japan. She has explored the list that the STN-J, the Japanese Branch, holds. They have marked every single person of Craft on that list. It is genocide there, in a way it has not been since the Inquisition or since Salem."
"From what I have heard," Margaret replied, "there is an administrator there who has a new policy to not kill witches. He places them in confinement in some giant jailhouse outside of Tokyo."
"Zaizen," Sienna supplied the name. "He was in Italy a few years ago, when Toudou was here, but he is lying…He says they aren't being killed and the Hunters believe him… but Abigail feels them in pain and dying. They are all dying, slowly she says."
"It is even worse than that," Colin interrupted, walking purposefully to sit in front of the fire place so that the woman sat above him in their respective seats. His words slurred slightly, but he was resolute, "They are even worse than the Church. Here there are Hunters and then there are Witches. There they try to call the "good" witches – what ever that means – Craft Users – as if the two are not the same thing."
"The old guard uses the same terminology here in Italy," Ysabelle said. "It is a word out of favor with the young ones."
"No, it is not," Sienna answered. "We met Juliano's newest protégé and he has differentiated in his head Hunters, Seeds, and Witches. He sees them as separate people. A Seed can be a Hunter, a Seed can become a witch. A Seed is not just a dormant witch, a Hunter is not just a witch who works for Solomon International… a witch has no place in his world."
Margaret had read the report on him, "His power lies dormant, does it not, the man you speak of. What was his name again?"
"Amon Nagira," Sienna replied knowing it would illicit a response from Ysabelle. She and Colin had become well acquainted with the young hunter, and though he was far too serious, they took a liking to him. He was exceptionally committed, as if he were cut from the same cloth as Juliano.
"Nagira? Surely not… not Keisuke's son?" Ysabelle asked, her eyes alit with fire.
Yes."
"And so it comes full circle to your own great ancestor, Sienna… Keisuke was always Abigail's creature. It must hurt him greatly, to know that his own son rejects his heritage."
"I didn't ask – the last time we tried to kill each other," Colin replied, his mouth twisting. "Though it was nearly seven years ago since I last tried. Juliano might hold a better answer, as he clashed with the man a few years ago."
"I tell you this now, Sienna, for your own good. If you are to make good with Abigail, Solomon must stop hunting Keisuke Nagira. The witches of Japan follow Abigail because they fear her… they will follow Keisuke because they love him."
She agreed, "That has already been explained to me… I am working on it."
Ysabelle felt every single one of her years all of a sudden. If Abigail was relenting, and beginning the negotiations with Solomon International through Sienna, then indeed life was about to change for all of them. She also felt a renewed vigor. They had the future in their grasp.
"We must not lose momentum," She murmured. "Otherwise we are lost. If Abigail recognizes that this is our future, the Covens and Solomon working in concert, then we cannot rest until it is accomplished."
Both girls nodded, but it was to Sienna that Ysabelle turned finally, "I promised your grandmother that I would follow the Lucas line until it was extinguished from this world. I did not say I would follow all of them. If you have need of me, Sienna Lucas, you need only ask."
"Tonight I needed nothing but confirmation… but I am afraid in the future I will ask more of you, and you Margaret… and Robin."
"Why Robin?" Margaret asked, her fear for her sister's daughter coming to the fore.
"It will be her decision to make," Ysabelle murmured at the same time. Abigail will look for the pure flame if she still tires of this life, she thought. One had not exist in Salem when they tried to kill her… but Robin could be that answer.
It was better to keep that secret from Margaret, and Ysabelle sent her daughter a reassuring smile.
"Yes, and I am afraid that her first loyalty is to her grandfather and my brother. I am attempting to show her a different way, but I think that you are right, Ysabelle. She will have to make her own choices. We can only hope to temper what her grandfather teaches her. My father's control of Juliano is complete, even from the grave.
"Grandfather thought to deal with Japan much later, maybe after Abigail's death… but I fear that Carlo is less patient. He feels that if we can wipe out all the witches in Japan, and just start putting our own people there and control it through some orchestrated intermarrying, then he is being efficient… he has no need of the witches in Japan."
"His mother-" Margaret argued.
"Aiko is much diminished since Roman's death and spends all her time on the family compound. My mother has tried to protect her, but I do not think that Aiko will last much longer."
Aiko had always been the most unusual woman. Educated in America, her exotic beauty and intelligence had immediately made an impact on Roman Lucas and he had married her within six months of meeting her. Two sons later, she decided that she was done with marriage and requested a divorce. She had even picked her successor, Amara, Sienna's mother.
And now she was dying from grief? Guilt perhaps? Part of Ysabelle had always wondered if Aiko had been Abigail's creature as well.
"So Aiko is not able to influence her son in this?"
Sienna shook her head. "And though my aunt Jane is still the family matriarch, she tires of the game, and looks to me as her successor…"
"So you will be Coven priestess, Lucas matriarch, and eventual head of Solomon International? Your ambition knows no bounds, Sienna," Ysabelle said fondly.
"I do it all for them in the end," Sienna answered motioning back to the children sleeping in the safe little world they lived in.
It was a restless Sienna who woke first. She had fallen asleep on the comfortable recliner, and Colin had spread himself before the fireplace, his back towards the warmth of the fading embers, his face somehow tilted towards her – protecting her even in sleep.
Across from her Margaret had abandoned her seat, but her husband still kept his vigil at the staircase, sleeping upright, the steel of his gun shining at his thigh holster. Even past their days as Hunters, Consorts kept their watch over coven priestesses.
Sienna wondered then if Ysabelle knew the truth of Margaret's position at Solomon. Assistant to the Rome Director was just a convenient cover to explain her presence in Rome. Margaret had, in the vernacular of the Grand Counsel, ascended. Her power had been tested and she had been found worthy to lead one of the Italian Covens, replacing an old friend of Roman's.
Silly, of course, Sienna thought, as she stood from the chair. Patricio tells Margaret everything. Of course she knows.
Ysabelle had retired to her own room – the recliner deserted as well – and Sienna reached for the shawl thrown casually over it, wrapping it instead over her shoulders. She walked past the kitchen, and out the door, not bothering to put any shoes on. Fire was hers to command after all. It did not take much to take the dewy grass behind her, thinking of flame, but ending the thought just short of actual fire. She walked this way, around the house until she found a familiar spot in the garden, a wood swing that Maria and she had sat in for hours a day…
Maria, Maria, I miss you so, she thought as she took the seat, warming it as she did. The sun was barely rising and Sienna knew that it was less than half an hour before Ysabelle woke to start her day.
They were going to leave after an early dinner, then stop in Rome for a day with Carlo and Andrea before Robin was scheduled to leave to spend Christmas proper with Juliano.
They grow so fast. You would be so proud of her, Maria. Smarter than a whip, this one.
She sighed, chasing away the memory of a woman who had been a sister to her. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, as she had expected the call.
"Hello?"
"Did you get your answer?" The voice was a grandmother's voice, long forgotten. Arianne had spoken with the same raspy whisper, making Sienna strain to listen, though she had heard the woman in Counsel enough – Arianne's voice commanded when she wanted it to, but with her grandchild, she had shown her weakness, her love.
So many have passed on with only dreams of what our future holds… will I live to see the dream fulfilled? "I did… Abigail."
"Good. Very good. Now listen carefully, Sienna Lucas, you must wait for my signal that Japan is ready for its coven."
"The signal?"
"My death, little daughter. As we discussed, send the fire child to me. She is the pure flame I am looking for. And when I am dead, you shall have your Edo Coven."