Chapter 51
It'd been a week since Mark visited her in her dreams and she hadn't seen him again. He didn't hate her, but didn't understand her either. What wasn't there to understand? It wasn't her fault he had asked her to marry him because of his counterpart! It wasn't her fault Taker had gone psychotic, AGAIN, and put their daughter in danger! The only thing she did wrong was not telling Mark Taker had returned. This was a week from HELL. Brooklynn had NEVER gone this long without talking to Mark, not in the 17 years they'd been together. It was weird and foreign being away from him with zero contact. Trish tried cheering her up, but all Brooklynn did was eat and went on auto-pilot, shutting down essentially.
"Mom, we have to talk."
Claira came into her mother's room, another week later, sitting on the bed with her bookbag and set it aside. She was back in school, miserable since Seth was nowhere to be found. Even though she knew he was an evil prick, it didn't make her miss him any less.
"So, I've been thinking about this situation with Seth and…I think I want my magic back."
That snapped Brooklynn out of her funk instantly. "What? Why?"
"I want to help somehow and I feel useless without it, honestly. I don't feel safe at school and I'd feel better if I had it, just in case Seth comes back to try to attack me or something. Do you think…Dad would still train me to use it properly, to control it?"
"You'd have to ask him, Claira." Brooklynn honestly had no idea what to say because her daughter called their 'gifts' curses. "Call him and find out what he thinks about this."
Somehow, it was not surprising when Claira asked to be trained in magic. He heard Taker's voice coming through the mental wall he had erected, warning him not to do it and promptly shut it down. He was nowhere closer to figuring out how to get rid of the sadistic bastard and Brooklynn's words about them being merged… was that their option? The only way to do it without actually killing himself? Mark would be both of them, but not himself, ever again. All those memories, they'd converge, be one man's memories, good and bad. That would be… a headache.
"Yeah, lil darlin', I'll train you." He agreed after a stretch of silence. "Here, in the library. I'll bring you here." It was warded, and nobody got in or out without his say so.
"O-Okay thanks, Dad."
Her family was fractured, and she had to do something, anything, to get them back to where they were. If becoming a Witch and having powers did that, so be it. Claira wasn't worried about Seth right now, her mother didn't look good and she was genuinely concerned this was slowly killing her.
"Can we start now? I don't want to wait…and I need to talk to you about Mom. She's not…she's not good, Dad." Claira heard him suck in a sharp breath and chewed her bottom lip, having stepped outside to make this phone call.
Good. Not that he'd ever say that out loud. Mark knew it was selfish, but he didn't WANT Brooklynn to be happy without him. What had Julia said? The circle, and strength, something along those lines, right? Well, the circle was fractured and in shambles.
"I'll come pick you up, lil darlin', we'll do this at the library." He said calmly, figuring he'd take a minute to shave off the growth.
Claira hung up with him a few minutes later and headed inside the house, seeing Trish was busy cooking dinner. "I won't be here tonight, Aunt Trish. Dad is taking me out." There was no reason to tell her where or why because Claira didn't know how this would pan out.
"Okay honey, have fun and tell your Dad we said hi."
"Will do. Will you…try to talk to Mom while I'm gone? Maybe take her out for a movie or something to get her out of this house?" It'd been 2 weeks since they came here to stay with Trish and Steve and her mother hadn't left her room.
"Sweetheart, she's in a lot of pain right now and I don't think a movie is going to fix that. But I'll try for you, okay?"
"Thanks." Claira hugged Trish and then went upstairs to inform her mother she was spending the evening with her father.
"He agreed to train you?"
"Yes."
"And you're absolutely sure you want this?"
"Yes."
"Okay." Brooklynn laid back down, staring straight ahead at the wall. At least the tears had finally stopped and now she just felt…numb.
When that big truck pulled up alongside the curb, Steve ambled out with a beer in hand, staring at his friend. Mark looked… better than Brooklynn. Circles under the eyes, sure, but better. "Well, you're a damn sight better than she is."
"Yeah?" There was a definite lack of interest in his tone. He listened as Steve told him about Brooklynn not leaving the room for 2 weeks. "She's the one who made this decision for us, Steve. She'd better learn to fuckin' live with it."
Mark had been busy working out spells, for both himself and for his family. If they had to defeat Nemesis, his bastard son AND Taker before he could have his family back, so be it. He wasn't going to lock his ass up and mope over his stupid decisions.
"Hey, lil darlin'."
"Hey Dad," Claira returned his smile, tossing a bag into the truck. "Make sure Aunt Trish tries to get Mom out of the house please."
"Will do…"
Trish frowned, not believing how…callous Mark sounded when it came to Brooklynn's wellbeing. That wasn't the Mark she knew. Maybe he was finally fed up with everything and Taker had been the final nail in their coffin. She sighed, watching the truck pull out of the driveway and went to go finish dinner. There was no point trying to get Brooklynn out of the house because she wouldn't budge. Trish had tried and failed, she was leaving well enough alone, knowing Brooklynn had to work things out for herself.
When a month passed by, almost in the blink of an eye, Brooklynn woke up one morning and decided she couldn't die in this bed. She had responsibilities and she was a mother to a beautiful, smart, vibrant daughter. Both her and Mark had made mistakes and she didn't know if they'd ever reconcile, but Brooklynn was done mourning their relationship and destroyed love. Since Mark hadn't spoken to her in a month, she figured he was done with her or he couldn't destroy Taker or keep him locked up forever, so she had to move on with her life. Brooklynn hopped in the shower to clean herself up and then pulled on a pair of jean shorts and a black tank top, her hair pulled back in a semi-high ponytail.
"Morning." She greeted softly, watching the coffee cup promptly fall out of Trish's hand while Steve splattered himself with his, cursing up a storm. "I'm gonna get out of here today and start looking for an apartment for me and Claira."
"You do realize… Claira basically moved out of here a week or so ago, right?" Steve asked curiously. He had watched as she spent more and more time with her Dad, training she said, and Mark was… well, from what he understood, Mark had been busy as well. But he also didn't have patience for Brooklynn's 'drama' as he had called it.
Trish frowned, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry sweetie, but you refused to get up and she wasn't… well, she's like her Dad. She said she wasn't going to sit on her… backside," Not the word. "And wait for the end to come. She's been with Mark for a while now. She comes and checks on you after school, but…"
"She's training, so I'm not surprised she moved back in with him. I'm sure she's going through a lot right now with us split up and…if she feels she can take care of herself and she trusts her father, there's nothing I can really do." Claira was a stubborn 16-year-old blossoming woman and Brooklynn felt better knowing she could protect herself now that she finally accepted her magic. "Now if she was still Bound and didn't have her magic back, or wasn't training, I'd fight for her to stay with me since she's helpless without magic."
Brooklynn made a very good point. "So…why are you getting an apartment if the reason you left Mark in the first place was because of Undertaker?"
"Because I don't trust Taker and I don't trust Mark can keep him locked up. The only reason he was able to do it before was because of Bastet, but she's gone now, thanks to that piece of shit. I told Mark to figure out a way to get rid of him and, if he can't, then…"
"Then what?"
Brooklynn lowered her eyes to her coffee and swallowed hard, not wanting to say the words. "Then I have to move on…without him." There was no trust with Undertaker ever again. She trusted Mark wholeheartedly, but…not in his ability to keep his lying, manipulative counterpart locked away for good. "Anyway, I'm done wallowing in self-pity and I'm done being depressed. I just…have to wait and see what happens, and I'm not gonna put you guys out anymore either."
They were doing something he had called 'speed training'. Proper training took years, and Mark hated doing what he had done, because it meant Claira had to process and learn on the fly. He figured, if they survived this, they could go back and cover what she had issues with. But she could ward herself now, for protection, and barriers were damn important. Shield yourself first, then cast. Battle magic… he hated that he was training his daughter in battle magic, but that was the reality they were now in.
"You're not getting an owl… that's Harry Potter bullshit and very impractical in the real world." She was doing Math at the kitchen table and he was finishing up the spell he had been working on since he had made this decision. About the only one he had left to him.
"Owls are in, Dad… This isn't all right, trying to remember these algorithms on top of magic bouncing in my head."
"I said… this weekend, we'd go out and see about a Familiar. They don't just come to you, and finding one is hard. Not an owl."
"Yours was a cat."
"Cats are traditional, lil darlin'." He scratched at his chin, fingers brushing against the goatee he had grown out. "Dogs, rats, mice, snakes, anything you can pass as a normal pet is good. Anything that isn't, they'll have to cloak themselves, a lot."
"I don't get to pick… I get what I get."
"Claira, lil darlin'," He looked up at her. "A Familiar isn't just a pet… it's a companion, a friend… someone to keep your secrets and share the experiences of life with. They strengthen your magic, and just about everything else in your life. It's… hard to explain the bond…"
"Hey guys, how's my… you're out of bed?" Claira sounded confused, letting herself in around dinner time and blinked. Her Mom was out of bed. Standing there, showered for once and in proper clothing. "You're out of bed!" She shrieked, letting her bookbag fall and ran to hug her Mom tightly, lifting her up and spun her in a circle before putting her down. "Sorry."
"What'd I say about the magic thing? You're not supposed to be letting it enhance you 24/7." Mark reprimanded, stepping in behind her and removed his sunglasses, green eyes sweeping the room before landing on Brooklynn. He flashed her a smile before looking at Trish. "Need a haircut."
"WHAT?"
"It's for a spell, darlin', need my hair. It's already braided, just take it off at the last band up here." Mark reached back and tapped the spot.
"You have a new tattoo…" Steve said suspiciously, eyeballing the blood red peeking out from behind the denim vest.
"Also for a spell." Claira chirped, still hugging on her Mom.
Brooklynn bit her tongue, knowing she had no right to tell Mark not to cut his beautiful hair off. He kept it long all this time, all these years, but if he had to use it for a spell, something big was going down. Claira was happy as a clam, her emerald eyes sparkling and it made a wave of guilt roll through Brooklynn because Claira had been really worried about her.
"Sorry for worrying you, sweetheart." Brooklynn kissed her forehead, hugging her again and stepped back as Mark sat down in the chair while Trish muttered about him being insane.
"He can grow it back. I think you're more upset about it than he is."
"I would be EXTREMELY upset if I had to cut my beautiful hair." Trish frowned, hesitating while smoothing her fingers down the braid. "Are you absolutely sure you wanna do this, Mark? Isn't there another spell you can do that doesn't involve chopping your hair?"
"Aunt Trish, just do it." Claira rolled her eyes, waving her hand and watched as Trish's hand began cutting the braid off of its own accord.
"CLAIRA!"
"You were hesitating…"
"CLAIRA!" Mark bellowed, not amused and watched as she stopped. "What did I say?"
"No manipulating other people's movements."
"Oh fuck, I'm sorry Mark… it's really… hacked." Trish groaned, shooting Claira a look. "Let me go get the clippers and we'll fix the back up for you, even it all out, and take the rest of the braid off."
"I'm getting us all a beer… not the Witch."
"Rude…" Claira rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "I'm starving…"
"No shit, lil darlin', it takes personal energy to use magic and you just hacked my hair off…" Not the way he had been wanting it to either, Mark could feel that braid hanging on, barely.
Brooklynn had winced when Claira abused her magic that way, along with Mark's roar, and stood up to make her daughter a plate of food as well as him. It was spaghetti, something simple, with garlic bread and filled everyone up, even the men. She set a plate in front of Claira, who looked guilty and then Mark, utensils included.
"Enough with the crap, Mom, when are you coming home?"
Had Mark explained Taker to their daughter? Probably not, she gathered, since Claira still didn't understand why they had to leave home in the first place. "It's complicated, Claira…" There was no way she would announce she had gone out apartment hunting throughout the day. It wasn't Mark's business, quite frankly, and besides that, he had enough on his plate to deal with.