Darkangel by Christine Pope (red queen ebook TXT) 📕

— but before she did that, she laid down a curse on the Wilcox men so that no girl child should be born to them, and that the wives of Jeremiah’s line should never live to see their children grow up.”

This was all news to me. I sat up, eyes widening. “And no one thought to mention this to me?”

“It’s not common knowledge. The clan elders know the particulars, and the prima, but otherwise we see no need for it to be spread around. It’s enough for most people to know that Flagstaff is Wilcox territory, and Jerome is ours, and we must all stay away from one another.”

“And when precisely were you going to get around to telling me?”

A thin smile. “I’m telling you now.”

“So that’s why the Wilcoxes always have a primus, never a prima.” As far as I knew, the McAllister clan had always had a prima as its head.

“Exactly. They also tend to marry outside their clan more than we do, since their genetic pool was smaller to begin with. That hasn’t diluted their power, though, and their primuses — the men of Jeremiah’s line, and his stolen Navajo wife — are very strong.”

That I could believe. Of course I’d only known Great-Aunt Ruby as an old woman, used to a lifetime of ruling the McAllister clan, and not the young, unworldly girl she must have been, but from her diary entry it was clear that she’d almost been overpowered by Jasper Wilcox. It took a lot of strength to best even a prima-in-waiting.

“And so they tried to kidnap Ruby so they could bind her power to theirs, the way they’d done with the Navajo witch?”

“Yes.”

Here was where I came to the crux of the conundrum. “I don’t understand that, though. I mean, I’ve always been told that a prima’s powers will only fully develop if she’s with her consort. Obviously, Jasper Wilcox wasn’t Ruby’s consort. So why did he think he could force her?”

For the first time during our conversation, Margot looked uncomfortable. She picked up her coffee and drank, but didn’t set the mug back down, instead cradling it in her hands the same way I was doing with my own mug. Maybe her hands were cold, too. “The energy of a prima is a receptive energy, what some refer to as a female energy. A prima cannot force her energy on another. But the energy of a primus is something different — it can be aggressive, outward-seeking. Dangerous, which is also why all the clans have a prima rather than a primus…well, except the Wilcoxes. We learned over the years what was the safer, wiser way and selected for it.”

Like breeding dogs, I thought with some irony, although I knew better than to say something like that to Margot Emory. “So this Jasper Wilcox thought he could just snatch up Great-Aunt Ruby and produce a line of super-warlocks or something?”

Her mouth tightened. I got the impression that she would have liked to call out my remark for being irreverent but wasn’t quite willing to confront her prima in such a way. “Or something. But it’s why we’ve watched over you so carefully, even before this latest incident.”

I assumed she was referring to the dark wraith-like figure I’d seen in the store. No one yet had quite been able to figure out that one, although it did seem as if the smartest thing to do was what the clan elders had been doing — never let me out of their sight. “And what if my consort never shows?”

“It’s best not to borrow trouble, Angela — you’ll find you may end up paying heavy interest on it.”

As may be. Abruptly, I said, “Adam wants me to marry him if my birthday rolls around and I’m still unattached.”

“That would solve a few things.” Surprisingly, she seemed unfazed by the prospect.

I couldn’t say the same for myself. “It would? But I was always told that it was bad for a prima to be with someone who wasn’t her consort, almost as bad as making it to twenty-two without a partner.”

“It’s not optimal, of course, but given the alternative….” She let the words trail off, and flicked a significant gaze northward. “If you’re not a virgin, you can’t be bound to a primus. Just reaching your twenty-second birthday would not be enough to protect you. Of course you carry your greatest potential for power now, but don’t think that you will be safe as long as you are on your own.”

This just kept getting better and better. “So why shouldn’t I just go with someone I choose, if my consort bails on me? Why not a civilian?” Obviously, this was not an idle question. Laying aside the problem of not even being able to contemplate going to bed with Adam, no matter what I might have promised him, I didn’t see why I couldn’t make a serious try for Chris Wilson if things went sideways. There was someone I wouldn’t mind losing my virginity to.

Now Margot did look annoyed. The sweeping dark brows drew together, and she gave an impatient wave of one hand. “Because even a warlock who is not your consort can bring some power to the relationship. A civilian? Never. Not with a prima. At least Adam is a McAllister, and a warlock with some talents, even if of course they’re not equal to your own.”

It seemed she had me boxed in fairly neatly there. My mother had escaped the trap, but then again, she’d never bonded with a consort, had bolted before that could happen. I’d never been given that opportunity, and I wondered how she’d managed it. Just gotten in her car and told everyone she was going out for groceries, then took off with only the clothes on her back and the money in her purse? I’d never been brave enough to ask Aunt Rachel, as I could tell the subject was too painful, even now, and somehow I guessed Margot Emory wouldn’t exactly be forthcoming if I tried to probe too deeply.

So I sipped at my rapidly cooling coffee, then said, “Thanks, Margot. That does answer some of my questions.” I didn’t add, That will be all, but she seemed to take the cue, setting down her mug a final time before getting to her feet.

“I’m glad I could help out. And if you have any other questions, I’ll do my best to answer them.” She smiled at me, although the expression seemed stiff, as if she were forcing it.

Since it was the sort of thing I really couldn’t call her on, I smiled at her in return and then saw her to the door. A blast of cold air came in as I opened it, but she didn’t seem to notice, only sailed serenely down the steps and in the direction of the restored Victorian where she lived on the next street over.

I closed the door, and shivered. Maybe it was the cold.

Maybe not.

Despite everything, the decision was made to go ahead with the shopping trip to Phoenix the week after that. That decision was made without my input; I had a feeling Aunt Rachel had to go plead her case to the elders to get them to agree, but finally they did acquiesce. We wouldn’t be driving ourselves, but would be going in Lester Phillips’ van, along with five bodyguards. Adam wasn’t coming along — not because he didn’t want to, but because the elders decreed he wasn’t a strong enough warlock to make much of a difference, should push come to shove.

As with any expedition into a neighboring clan’s territory, certain overtures had to be made. Since I was now prima, I was the one who had to call Maya de la Paz — apparently she didn’t do email — and explain that some of us would like to come to town to do our holiday shopping, and would that be all right?

I’d halfway been expecting her to give me some kind of grief for not latching on to her grandson as my consort, but she only gave a chuckle and said, “Of course you are welcome here. Where will you be going?”

That hadn’t been set in stone yet, but I told her we’d be focusing mainly in the Biltmore District, the mall itself and some of the satellite shopping areas, like the ones with Nordstrom Rack and Best Buy, and possibly going over to Scottsdale if there were time.

She said, “That is good. Thank you for asking, but the McAllisters are always welcome in Phoenix.”

Right then I wondered why I’d been worried about making the call. She seemed very gracious. “You’re very welcome, Mrs. de la Paz.”

A laugh, and then she said, “No need for that. You are prima, as am I. Have a good night, Angela.”

I hung up then and gave my Aunt Rachel, who’d been watching, a thumbs-up. She shot me a relieved smile, and then we both headed down to her place, since she’d heard about me eating leftover pizza for dinner and wanted to make sure I got at least one decent meal in me that week.

Even as we went, I knew I had one more call to make that night.

I sat on my bed and stared at the number in my contacts list. It should have been easy — just dial those ten digits, and….

But it wasn’t. I’d never cold-called a guy like this before. Yes, Chris had given me his number and told me to let him know when I was coming down to Phoenix. Even so, I found I was having a heck of a time working up the nerve to do it.

For Goddess’ sake, I told myself. You’re the prima of the McAllisters, and you don’t even have enough of a spine to call a guy?

Not just any