Two

CHIARA

Then, there’s my mother.

My mother was always in flight. She had witchy jobs as a junior elder of the Council of Magick.

Her missions were dangerous that she couldn’t be found lingering in the mundane world or living with non-Magickal loved ones.

She divorced my father to protect him from her enemies his wealth could never protect him from.

When I was asked by this judge in all honesty where I wanted to live, my father was floored that I chose to be here.

I was thirteen. They never made me feel I was choosing one over the other. I loved my mother to death and I shared a strong bond with her.

But when it came for me to decide whom I would live with, I spoke very intensely about my wish to live with my father so it would be clear to everyone.

Mom told me she was grateful I made the decision I did. That I understood what her life was going to be like after the divorce and when I chose my dad, it gave her the freedom to do her job without guilt. I was one other person she didn't have to worry about while she went to her missions.

That was one of my reasons, too.

I knew her other reason was that my father would not not be left alone. We couldn’t live him alone. And we both loved him. If he got hurt when one of us could stay and protect him, we both couldn’t live with it.

So I moved with my father to his new, large, penthouse apartment he acquired after the divorce. It turned out really well, despite the fact, our balconies bear all the plants one can acquire in such a space. I loved my plants.

My father raised me as best as he could. I enrolled in some of the best private schools the city could offer.

I was smart—no qualms about saying this, since I had smart parents so I am quite relieved to be so.

His wealth gave me many choices and opportunities to become one of the bests in whatever career I pursued.

And I knew that even as he sometimes groused about it, he was happy I liked my job. That being content where I was is the most important thing in the world to him.

I knew he and my mom had been meeting secretly sometimes. I knew they were together when he was supposedly somewhere for a business meeting or a business convention. I was glad he and mom could spend time together, despite the complexity of their situation. That's supposedly what love was all about.

"You're thinking about how much I look like mommy again, aren't you?" I teased him when I raised my face and caught him watghing me fondly.

His shoulders shook as he laughed. "Your mother is the most beautiful woman I have ever met and I am grateful more of your looks came from her than from me."

"And she swears you are the most handsome man she has ever met and she was glad I got some of my looks from you and it made me prettier than her. Oh god, the sucrose makes me really sick. So heartbreakingly sweet!"

"Oh, sweetie." He was laughing more loudly now. Then he grimaced. "It is, isn't it?"

"You two should better end up together again when she's done with all the council's shenanigans. Don't look like that, Dad. The council doesn't have ears on our walls. They're not going to piss off Mom like that."

"They don't have to tell anyone what they do," he said, suspiciously.

"They better not do that trick. I know when something magickal is happening in this house. I've spelled it so it'll let me know. Mom taught me."

"She did? When?"

"A while back," I replied. "I haven't seen her in weeks, Daddy. But I'm sure the very next time she's got free time and it's safe, you'll see her."

And... my father blushed because of whatever he's thinking about what they would do when they got together.

Eww. Info overload.

Glancing at my watch, I gulped down the last of my juice and got up from the table. I raced around to where my father sat and kissed him on the cheek.

"I've got to go, Dad, or I'm going to be late for work. Don't wait up for me tonight, okay?" I reminded him again. "I love you."

"I love you, too, sweetheart," Davis responded as he picked up the newspaper, his forehead still creased with worry that it made me want to slap every elder who had instigated taking away my mother from us. Including my Mom. Sometimes. "Have a wonderful day, okay?"

"I will!"

AT five that afternoon, I dashed to the elevator, and then through the lobby to outside where my personal driver, William, was sliding the car in place as I was rushing out the doors. He never missed, despite other cars in line trying to get off from parking to drive home. He was to take me to this meeting place with the agent.

As we made our way through traffic, I kept looking at my watch. I really did not want to be late but traffic was standing still. It had been for a while now.

Pushing a button that slid open the glass partition between myself and William, I inquired what was going on. I saw him craning his neck out his window to check the front of the line on our lane.

"There's a malfunctioning traffic light, Ms. Ravensworth. Cars are backed up in all directions, I'm afraid," he replied a little sullenly.

"Oh hell," I said under my breath. Sliding the glass close again, I rolled down my side window to try to see how far the holdup extended.

The sound of beeping cars and angry drivers assailed my ears.

But amidst the chaos, a distressed child was crying.

Looking in that direction, I saw a flushed toddler along with a woman who appeared to be his mother holding her in the backseat of a cab. The driver himself was looking worried and, like my driver, kept extending his neck to check if someone's doing something about the traffic.

The child was obviously in pain and needed to be looked at by medical people immediately, and I was guessing they were on their way to the nearest medical facility.

This shouldn't be happening. Why? I was right here, and I could help the poor baby.

My hand moved, my index finger flicking in the air, gathering what I needed from the ether. I felt the static of electricity building fast on my fingertips and I threw it out there before it manifested in my hand enough for the naked eye to see.

And the problematic traffic lights started to function again.

The next one was easier, as the child was nearer to me than the traffic lights posts. I murmured a spell and the baby slumped, fast asleep in her mother's arms.

The mother, who of course knew none the wiser, got more agitated because she thought her child fainted and she had no idea what it meant—if this was good or bad. She started to cry herself.

But that wasn't what's important at that moment.

I needed to do something else before traffic moved, before they could drive away from me.

I spelled her child to sleep so she will not feel the pain of... I tred to sense the reason for the crying with my 'spidey' sense.

Ahh, there it was. It was a dislocated shoulder from a fall. I grimaced. That was painful. But I couldn't heal that from here, and I was not that trained to heal bones.

I was at least relieved the child would not have to suffer until they could get her to a doctor. Her mother frantically checked her baby's pulse points and breathing and since all that should be good, she eventually appeared to relax, looking grateful that her child 'passed out' from the pain of her injury.

I saw her wipe the tears from her eyes and secure her hold on her child. I didn't need to do anything to her against her knowledge, thank the gods and goddesses. 

I allowed myself a small smile before sliding the window back up as traffic resumed very quickly after that.

And I thought I just might make it in time for my meeting after all.