“Gran?” Kira blinked at the stranger. “No-no!” she breathed, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest in fear. Tears thickened her throat as she shook her head in denial.
She’d seen too much and knew how Others used humans with little care for their lives. Her friends were a living testament to this. Darci had been a receptacle, housing Blaéz’s soul, and would have died once she released it. Shae’s beloved uncle was just a facade for an evil fallen angel to hide behind while he tried to reap her mother’s psionic power.
Now, they’d done something to Gran. “You bring her back, now!”
The woman’s otherworldly eyes clouded. “Kira, she is me, and I am her. We are one and the same.”
“No, you lie! Bring her back right now—” A sob broke free. “Oh, God, please bring her back.”
Grief tightened the woman’s face. “She passed on just after you turned five.”
The sensation of falling, of toppling off a precipice gripped Kira. Except she was still standing in a kitchen she’d grown up in, but nothing was the same anymore.
Týr drew her to him and held her in his embrace. “I’m here,” he whispered, his lips brushing her hair, his one hand gently rubbing her back.
God. Kira shut her eyes and held him tight, praying this was all a nightmare.
“Without a supernatural caregiver, I couldn’t leave you alone.” At the woman’s low voice, Kira focused on her once more. “You would have drawn every evil out there because you are a rarity, part of both the dark and the light. Your sire bound you from detection but declared it would become void on your twenty-fifth year. Lila was to have prepared you, but she passed before she could do so. Despite being an Oracle, and an unusually powerful one, she was still human. She grew sick. Her heart got weaker, and it gave out just after your fifth birthday. I didn’t want you to pine for her—you were quite attached to Lila—so I assumed the role, using her glamour.”
“Tell me one thing?” Kira rasped, feeling as if her world were a landslide, and she could do little to stop the horrific crash waiting below. “Does my father know all this?”
“No. It is not easy when forces more powerful than you can comprehend are at work,” the woman said quietly. “I couldn’t say anything to anyone about what or who I was. The risk was too great. Not for me so much…but, even the wind talks.”
“You mentioned that before, that night in the alley,” Týr said, his arms still banding around Kira. “About the winds.”
The woman nodded. “We can listen to the winds—to any whispers from continents away. It’s why this brownstone that Hedori warded was ideal for Kira to grow up in.” Those inhuman eyes with their stars held Kira’s. The woman smoothed back a loose strand of hair, causing a fresh burst of pain in her at the familiar gesture. “I tried to give you a good,safelife.”
“Oh, right. That makes everything a-okay—” An anguished laugh morphed into a sob. “I loved the illusion you created so much that it’s tearing me apart inside. So, yeah, if destroying everything I-I love makes my life freakin’ perfect, then I guess it is.”
“My dearest child—”
“Don’t call me that.” Her fingers dug into Týr’s forearms wrapped around her. “I’m nothing to you. Just a pawn for whatever games you all play!”
The woman lowered her gaze. When she looked up again, her irises burned a searing white, every bit of black having disappeared. “It wasn’t a game. It was the only way I could stay with you, Kira. To keep you safe. I would have done anything to protect you. But more, I longed to be with you.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m your mother.”
* * *
At the primordial power sliding over him, Týr could barely breathe or move, let alone hold onto his trembling mate. Shit, this female had to be older than Michael…maybe, even Wrath.
“No—” Kira jerked free of his grip, her back hitting the kitchen cabinet. Plates rattled. “My mother’s dead!” Wide-eyed, she stared at the female, shaking her head, her skin pale beneath her normal tan. It scared the hell out of him.
Týr’s gaze snapped to the female responsible for his mate’s agony. Her bright glow had dulled to a faint halo. “What the hell are you? Yeah, yeah, you said you’re Kira’s mom.”
The woman rubbed her temples wearily. “My name is Luceré. The few who know of us, refer to us as the Ancients—or the Lights.”
Ancients?Týr frowned. He’d heard of them, beings that probably came into existence at the time of creation. They were revered and sacred because of their immense power. Almost holy. But he never knew of any to take corporeal form. They usually remained in an invisible state and watched over new realms, helping them flourish. Over the millennia, they’d faded away, which is why Týr had thought them a myth.
“So, you’re powerful.” Kira glared at Luceré. “You could have saved Gran, but you didn’t.”
“We cannot interfere in mortal lives.”
“Of course, not. You may be this light, but clearly, you didn’t give a thought to what everything you did could do to me.” Her eyes swam with tears. “Why didn’t you just let Gran pass on and resume your own form? Then it wouldn’t have been this devastating. Why?” she begged for an answer as if needing something to anchor her.
Týr put a hand on her back, feeling her pain as if it were his own. He realized this had to be done, the truth revealed for Kira to get some understanding because closure for this devastation surely wasn’t happening anytime soon.
