Twenty-three

Someone was pushing her shoulder as Grace woke from the dream. This time Bas had been wandering the house with Eli. She’d done everything she could to make them see her but the moment Eli had, she’d felt a wave of fear.

“Hey Gracie.” Cam smiled at her and helped her out of the passenger seat. “Time for another bathroom break.” 

The rest stop was empty of people and it looked closed. Their headlights were the only illumination. She gave him a baffled look and he laughed.

“It’s nothing fancy, I’ll grant you. We want to avoid people that means going places they aren’t. This rest area is technically closed. We drove around the barrier that means we should hurry so that we can be on our way again.”

Grace nodded and then shook her head. “The police won’t show up? And they don’t have cameras?”

“If the police show up Fitz will deal with them, and I don’t think they have the budget for cameras in a place like this.” He opened up one of the bathrooms and propped the door open, shining his flashlight in. “If they don’t have toilet paper I have some in the van.”

“Do you think they would have any snacks? I’m starved.” Grace wandered in and chose a stall as he lay the light on the floor in front of them. There was toilet paper and in the dimness, from what she could tell, it looked as if someone had tried to clean before they closed it all down.

“We can look. If not I have a few things in the back.” 

She finished up and tried to flush, nothing happened. 

“Um, Cam?”

“I think they turned the water off, I know the power is off.” He sounded amused. “I have some waterless soap in the van.”

They headed back after taking a peak at the emptied machines. Cam opened the back of the van and pulled out a bag, handing her hand sanitizer which she gladly used and handed back. 

“What kind of snacks-”

“Can the two of you go somewhere else?” Fitz snapped. “I didn’t ask for…” He trailed off as a police cruiser rolled up on them and flashed it’s blue and red lights, keeping them in the beam of his headlights.

The officer stepped out of his car eyeing them warily, “You folks know this place is closed.”

“We’ll be on our way soon.” Cam smiled at the man. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“I think it is.” He looked at Grace in her robe. “Are you ok, honey?”

“I-”

“She’s fine.” 

Fitz stepped out of the van and the cop reached for his weapon.

“You’re going to leave and forget we existed.” Fitz lifted his hand but the cop wasn’t looking at him he was looking in the van.

“What in the hell?” 

Grace turned to look and saw Genevieve with her eyes open wide, she could have sworn they were brown before but now they were shining gold and the woman was arched off of the bed so oddly it looked as if she were levitating while looking them upside down.

“Mercy. I plead for Mercy.”

She heard the police car start and the tires squealed as the officer roared out of the rest stop.

“Well… that is one way to get rid of an ordinary.” Cam rubbed his face and Fitz started to laugh.

“A Sibyl makes an impression.”

“We shouldn’t stay. You both need to try to use the toilets. Gracie and I’ll have some food and drink out on the bed when you get back.”

“Gracie, take Sibbi to the bathroom. I can use a tree.” 

He helped the dazed woman out of the back of the van and Grace walked her to the toilets with the flashlight. She assisted the woman into a stall and for a moment stared into her golden eyes.

“Don’t be afraid. Trust.” The woman laid a hand over her heart. “The wolf will never harm you.”

A peculiar feeling of calm settled over her and Grace nodded. Stepping back, Genevieve at least seemed awake enough to take care of whatever she needed to do. She waited patiently and after a moment hearing a sound, she peeked in.

“There’s no water.”

“Oh. Cold water would be good right now, and salt.”

Grace laughed, “A drink and some salty snacks do sound good.”

“What?” Fitz met them at the door as they came out.

“She wants some water and something salty to eat. I want the same thing.”

He shook his head. “Cam will have something. Go back to the van.”

The command rankled and she muttered under her breath, “Where else would we go?”

“To the road.” The woman next to her gave her a faint smile. “Make a run for it. They’d be quicker. I feel drugged and hazy.”

“I’d be afraid we’d be picked up by someone worse.” 

Genevieve laughed as they came closer to the van, but the woman looked closer to tears, “By the time you understand there isn’t anyone worse, Grace, we’ll be so close to death that you’ll no longer feel fear or anger.”

Cam rounded the van with a rueful smile. “Neither of us wants to hurt you, Genny, and I don’t want to hurt Gracie.”

“Anything but that. Never that name. Most people shorten Genevieve to Vivi, but I’ve been called Nev, Neevie, G, V, Gen, Genie-”

He nodded with a warmer smile, “Alright, I like Nev.”

“I went by Nev when I was singing. I was in a band, Sibulla. There may still be videos up.” She clambered back into the van and Grace followed her.

Settling in on what was now a bench seat with a table, they started looking through the snacks and they both picked water to drink. Chips and pretzels, Genevieve snagged some cookies too and pushed them toward the window.

“What kind of music do you like?” Cam asked from the driver’s seat.

“Almost anything. I’ve never been a big fan of country, it reminds me of my mom.”

“Fitz said you like Tom Waits?”

“My foster dad liked him. He’s pretty decent.”

“Do you like Florence and the Machine?” Grace asked between mouthfuls.

“Yesss!” Genevieve turned with a grin, “Seven Devils gave me chills the first time I heard it! I had to go listen to all of it after that.”

“You were late to the party!” Grace laughed as the other woman gave a playful huff.

“As long as you get there that’s what counts!”

“What’s your favorite band?” Cam was grinning back at them.

“It’s a toss up. I love Death Cab, but Tool and A Perfect Circle-”

“There’s a huge difference there.” He gave her a mystified look.

“I keep a collection of my favorites on youtube, a list called For my Brain, my tastes are so eclectic it bothers people.” She glanced at Grace, “You might like my Soul like Coffee list. Florence is on there. My foster brother says it’s music to slit your wrists to but it-”

Fitz jerked open the van door. “We can go.” He shut it hard and sat across from them.

“We were talking about music.” Cam started the van and they began to move. “Nev used to sing in a band, Sibulla.”

The other man started to laugh and he leaned onto his elbows. “I own bootlegs of your performances. Your voice… Nev Geary was the name you went by. I wanted to see you perform; the videos were never enough.”

“The videos were how her brother found her.” Grace looked at him curiously. “He put up a site…” 

“I never needed to search for them, I have them all downloaded. That’s what I get for assuming you were an ordinary with a magnificent voice. If I’d come to find you the way I felt drawn to…” 

The way he was looking at Genevieve made Grace feel uncomfortable and she reached to hold the woman’s hand in case it made her feel the same way. 

“The Sibyl will not serve.” The coolness of her voice made the hair on the back of Grace’s neck stand on end.

“The Sibyl will behave herself and do as she’s told.” Fitz smiled smugly. “The Servant isn’t here, the Bathim can be dealt with if they try to come for you, and the wolves are miles away. Mercy won’t show his face even if he could find you.”

“The Beautiful could not break us, nor shall the Grey.”

“I told you, Sibbi, don’t call me that.” He glared at the woman and Grace tried desperately to think of a way to diffuse the situation.

“Who was Beautiful? And why-”

“Names.” Fitz turned his sour gaze toward her. “The Sibyl doesn’t entirely grasp names, their meaning is what she calls you. My given name means grey, I hate it.”

“Grey seems like a good name though, I mean, maybe a little trendy but…” She stopped as he stared flatly at her.

“My name isn’t Grey it means grey. It’s Lloyd.”

“Oh.” Grace winced. “It’s not the worst name but it Fitz suits you better.”

“Only my brother is permitted to call me Sibbi, Lloyd.” Genevieve was giving the man a frigid look as he turned back to her incredulously.

“I told you-”

“Call me something else or you’ll be dumping our bodies before we get to wherever you had planned to take us. If you knew my father at all you know I can be intractable or reasonable depending on your level of respect.”

Grace swallowed as his lip curled and then he sat back studying them both.

“The Sibyl protects. I can threaten you until I run out of air and you won’t budge. That was the mistake your father made. He spared your brother and tried to bend you. I won’t spare Grace if you fight me.” He bit the tip of his tongue as he stared at Genevieve and the air felt colder as if the AC had been turned on.

“The pictures hang in my library and the jewelry is on display as you walk to the Sibyl’s audience chamber.”

She had the feeling she was hearing something not meant for her. Genevieve poured water into the cap of her bottle and stuck her finger in the pretzel bag.

“You would have me rest?”

“Yes. Even after all of it, you are loved.” There was salt on her finger and she dipped it in the cap swirling it before flicking it at the man across from them. “You are forgiven, rest and find peace.”

Fitz’s face twisted in surprise and pain. Suddenly he hunched, turning away from them with a shudder. He began to pant. 

“I summoned him for a reason.”

“They should be allowed their rest.”

He eyed her water dubiously, “You’ll be drinking soda or tea from now on, and taking showers.”

“She broke a summoning with water?” Cam glanced back in the rearview.

“She’s a Sibyl. Where do you think the concept of holy water came from?” Fitz ran a hand over his face settling back and looking at them sourly. “I remember reading that they like running water but if you give them standing water they’ll purify it.”

“If she’s using her gifts she probably needs another shot but there’s another hour at least before it’s safe. Can she be muddled?”

“She can take another shot.” Fitz smiled coldly. “Give me your arm, Sib-”

“I know how this ends and I will make you kill us now unless you choose another name.”

His eyes seemed slightly uncertain, “Why would you drag it out if you know I’m going to end up killing you?”

“Dragging it out leaves things open to a broader interpretation. The Sibyl speaks the truth, it is perception that varies. Some interpretations are more unpleasant, some are less, all end in death. Only my brother calls me Sibbi.”

“I’ll call you Nev, but only if you call me Fitz. The first time the Sibyl calls me the Grey the deal is off.”

“You know she can’t call you anything else, it’s who and what you are. Emotionless but moody, sophisticated but practical. Always in variance.”

The disturbingly rapt look was back on his face. “She looks at me and that is what she sees?”

“Do me next!” Cam teased from the front.

“The crooked-nosed man, descendant on uncertain legs. Twisted lines, love and loss. Welcome the water.”

“Never joke when you ask the Sibyl to tell you something.” Fitz laughed. “I want to get along with you, Nev. I’ll let you call me Grey, like Gracie said, that’s not a bad name and it can be a name that only you call me.”

“What does Nev mean?” Cam asked curiously.

“New.” Genevieve answered with a smile, “Genevieve, depending where you look, means ‘kin, family, or woman of the race.’”

“Grace just means grace.” Smiling wryly, Grace wished for a moment she had a name with a hidden meaning.

“It’s intended to stand for charm,” Genevieve smiled warmly, “and the grace of God. I like it. Remiel, my husband’s name, means God’s mercy. I always thought, if I ever had children, I wanted to give them names like that Amarisa, Abel, Reuel-” 

“Royal?” Fitz looked at her curiously.

“R-E-U-E-L, Reuel, a friend of God.”

He snorted. “He’d be spelling his name his entire life and going by his last name… What is your married name?”

“Coiro.” She folded her arms as he made a face.

“They’d need names like David and Beth. Go tame but not old fashioned.” He smirked. “You’re a Sibyl, I suspect you can break your connection with the wolf and choose another if you want to. If you really want children you should consider me. Fitzgerald is a good name and a good line.”

“My Remiel is the only one I’ll be having children with if I’m given the chance.”

He tilted his head, “When you were pleading for Mercy… was it him you were calling for?”

“She refers to him as the angel of hope or mercy, it could have been.” Genevieve shrugged, “Everything is clear to her but it’s not always clear to me.”

“Ah.” He smiled and nodded.

“So this Sibyl is someone else in your head?” Grace looked at her curiously.

“Yes and no. It’s like… you have pieces of glass that you can lay one in front of the other. When you have one the light hits the wall a certain way, when you have two, it hits differently. It’s not like in a window where the panes are doubled, it’s more… a thing that spins and the pieces line up by fate, or chance, or by request. The light shines through and you… you have the words of the Sibyl.”

“Affected by the filter of the mortal coil.” Fitz leaned forward with a smile. “It’s why you were meant to be kept pure and isolated. They’d have been breeding Farrin like a stud horse. He’d have a wife of a good lineage and be told to have as many children as possible.

“Why didn’t Dara enlist the help of the other lines to find you? He wasn’t a pleasant man but a great deal can be forgiven for a Sibyl.”

“He bought my mother. She wasn’t a witch, she was a, he called her an ordinary, a normal person who was intended to be an Alpha’s mate.”

He sat back with a stunned look on his face.

“He’d done some sort of divination and learned that if he could breed with one he’d get a Sibyl. But you can’t steal from the gods, Grey. My brother and I belong to the pack she should have been part of.”

“He got a Sibyl outside the lines?” Cam sounded amazed.

“It’s a different kind of magic, it shouldn’t have worked.”

“Witches and wolves can breed.” Genevieve shrugged, “I’ve spoken with their offspring. It doesn't happen often and they’re usually wolves, but it gets passed along like blue eyes in a brown-eyed family. Now and then you have a witch pop up in the pack, born to serve and protect them.”

“I’ve heard of a few packs who keep some witches on retainer… keeping them close to train their own witches?” Fitz looked as if he’d just learned the moon was made of styrofoam. “Farrin could start a new line… wolf Sibyls… You couldn’t bring them back into the lineage but she should live longer, be healthier.”

“Would they let the lines have access to her?” Cam glanced back again.

“If they refused, it wouldn’t be too difficult to destroy a pack and take the Sibyl. You’d need enough to join you in the effort, one or two wouldn’t be enough. Wolves are resistant to most spells. Those that affect them require real power.

“I’ll make inquiries about the pack name there and keep an eye on them. I might even tell the others if they come to their senses.”

She wasn’t sure why but the thought made Grace nervous, she glanced at Genevieve, the woman was leaning back with a quiet, serious expression on her face.

“I think it’s time to give you another shot.” Fitz turned to fish a syringe from a bag next to Cam.

“Why did they disown you?” The woman frowned at Fitz. “My brother is the one who got an education. I don’t even know how many lines there are.” 

“Speaking to the dead is a gift that not many have and those who do are,” he breathed a laugh, “policed. The gift is meant to be used only in certain ways and situations if you ask my father. I use it as I please. It was given to me. I can do great things, Nev. I have such power, and they want me to waste it, to hide it and never touch it. You and I, together, we could remake the world.” 

Grace shivered.

“The Sibyl does no harm.”

“Give me your arm.”

Genevieve exhaled and reached out to squeeze Grace’s arm before offering Fitz her other hand. He pulled her so that he could inject its contents into the vein in her elbow.

“The Sibyl may do no harm but until we get to a safe place, the Servant or those wolves might.”

“My brother and my mate are drawing straws for who gets to kill you.” Genevieve nodded and shrugged as she drew her arm back.

“Who’ll win and get to kill me?” Fitz smiled viciously.

“The Supplanter.”

He blinked. “Remind me to look up names when we get home, Cam.”

Genevieve started to slump, leaning against the window.

“She didn’t get to eat much…” Grace looked at their snacks and the cookies the woman had pushed against the window. 

“I’ll give her more time to eat next time we stop.” Fitz stretched and then clambered over the seat to sit in the front. “Get some sleep, Gracie.”

She closed the water bottles first and then settled in close to the drugged woman, trying to find a comfortable way to sit. Genevieve’s eyes opened a crack and she murmured, “Rest your head in my lap.”

“What was that?” Fitz glanced back.

“I’m just trying to find a comfortable way to sit.” 

He snorted and muttered under his breath. When she looked back Genevieve’s eyes were closed. Grace carefully positioned herself on the seat and put her head on the woman’s leg. A strangely soothing hand came to rest on the crown of her head and she let her eyes close.