In Moonlight - Ch 21 - Worry and Doubt

 "Gwen, do you have a minute?" Genie asked.

Seeing Mr. Grey again had stirred up bad memories. Then, learning about the likely connections between the svartalves and the Axis party, and through them to her parents, Genie found herself forced to confront a question that had been lurking in her mind, ignored, for too long. From things Miranda had said, she'd wondered if Gwen might know the answer. So, when Cassie had declared that she and Gwen needed to go before they were missed, she'd followed Miranda's moms outside. 

"I've never been very good at holding onto time," Gwen replied with a strange smile. "I can't seem to get a grip on it."

Genie blinked, suddenly unsure how to deal with Gwen's nearly legendary strangeness. Forcibly putting it aside, she said, "I wanted to ask you about my mom."

"Of course, dear," Gwen said, sobering.

"You were... friends... at university, right?" Genie asked, suddenly unsure quite how to begin.

"Your mother and I were very close once," Gwen nodded. "We were friends and lovers. We shared... so many things."

Genie took another deep breath. From the way Miranda talked, Gwen would be more than happy to tell her all sorts of things she didn't want to know about her mom's sex life. She absolutely did not want to know what her mom had gotten up to with Gwen, and apparently Cassie and her dad, at university. Realizing that she was distracting herself, Genie forced her mind back into line. 

"Yeah, but you knew her... and you liked her. So, she wasn't... I mean... was she always so..." Genie stammered. "I mean... was she always evil?"

"Oh Genie, no," Gwen said sadly. "No, the Luna I knew was certainly not evil."

"Then what happened?" Genie demanded. "Why is she like this now? She launders money for gangsters. I know she's been meeting with Mr. Hand and I'm sure she's involved in this whole Crossing business... Alien invasions and world domination? She might even be involved in Shannon's murder. Why is she doing this? Then there's my Uncle Max and Grand-père Jacques... and a Villareal killed Baron Charm's father! Gwen, is there just something evil about my whole family?"

Is there something evil about me, she screamed silently.

"Oh... oh my dear child, I'm so sorry. No, I don't believe there is something inherently evil about your family," Gwen said, pulling Genie to her. "If you really want to understand why your mother is doing these things, you need to understand her relationship with Genevieve."

"It's Genie," Genie corrected her reflexively, "and my mom and I don't have a relationship."

"I know your name, dear," Gwen said gently. "You should talk to your uncle. He can explain better than I ever could."

"You know, I always thought Miranda was exaggerating when she talked about how cryptic Gwen was," Jenny said, coming up behind Genie as they watched Gwen and Cassie walk away. 

"If anything, I think she was understating things," Genie grumbled quietly. "If I want to understand my mom, I need to understand our relationship? Our relationship is her ignoring me, belittling me, drowning me in unreasonable expectations and calling me Genevieve all the damn time! What's to understand?"

"I guess you should ask your uncle," Jenny offered.

"Uncle Max shot me," Genie snarled. "He pulled out a gun and literally shot me. The next time I see him, the only thing I'm planning to say to him is 'enjoy prison.' Ugh. Miranda's right. Gwen's nuts." 

"... and she just disappeared," Jenny said. "Like... poof... they completely disappeared into thin air. I will never get used to that."

"OK, is that more weird or less weird than the time I watched Miranda fly away on a broom?" Genie mused. "Like an actual broom. Flying."

Jenny seemed to think about it for a moment. "I'm not really sure," she said at last.

"Well, I can't fly or... you know... poof. So, you up for another train trip tonight?" Genie said, squaring her shoulders. "If we hurry, we should be able to catch the last run back to Windenburg."

"Ugh, another night sleeping on the train?" Jenny groaned. "Sure, why not. We should really see about getting those rail passes though."

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"I'm worried about Genie," Mariah said.

Miranda was washing the breakfast dishes. The rented house seemed quiet with just the two of them. That was odd, Mariah thought. She'd gotten used to the house being a safe, quiet place for Mary and Mandy. Now that they were Mariah and Miranda again, it seemed more right for it to be full of friends. It was even more surprising for her to realize she was counting a snarky werewolf and a certain emotionally problematic ex-witch among her friends.

"Hmmm," Miranda prompted.

Focus on one problem at a time, Mariah chided herself.

"This business with her mother... her whole family really, but I think it's mostly her mother," Mariah said. 

"Luna always seemed... distant... to me," Miranda replied thoughtfully. "A bit snobby and superficial, but distant under that. Still, even knowing what we know now, I have a hard time believing how deeply she's involved with the crime families and everything else. I can only imagine what Genie must be feeling."

"I have a pretty good idea," Mariah sighed. "She keeps looking at me like I'm some kind of role model."

"Listen to me," Miranda said gently. "Leaving aside her obvious crush on you, Genie respects you and you've been through something like this. No, you didn't handle it well, but you've learned from those mistakes. You can help her. We both can. We'll be there when she needs us."

"Not if we have to go back in hiding from the Altos or the Dark Court or the svartalves or whoever else is after us," Mariah groaned.

"We'll be there when our friends need us," Miranda said, a sudden flare of Power crackling in the air around her like chained lightning.

There were many times, Mariah thought, when she forgot that her wife was a powerful strega. There were other times when it couldn't be ignored. 

"You know, you can be a little intense sometimes," she said, forcing herself to smile.

And just like that, the great witch was Miranda, the woman Mariah loved again, grinning sheepishly.

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"Would you just tell her already," Demarco said hotly.

Usually, after the catharsis of running as a Wolf under the full moon, Demarco felt calmer. She wasn't feeling calmer. The jealous tension that had been building in her since she'd found herself actually face to face with the Great and Glorious Miranda Goth was reaching a breaking point. The rational Woman in her realized that she'd been hiding that jealousy by snarling at Miranda's wife, Mariah. Now, it seemed, the Wolf in her had grown to like Mariah too much to snarl at her.

"What am I supposed to tell her, Lux?" Etta replied, her own temper flaring. "You're the expert on my feelings. What do you want me to say?"

"You know what? You're right. I have no idea what you feel," Demarco groaned. Not about Miranda, she thought, and certainly not about me.

"Lux," Etta groaned, obviously struggling to reclaim her calm.

"But I do know a couple of things," Demarco said over her, determined to approach this as rationally, if not calmly, as possible. "I know that you divide your life into before and after you met Miranda. I know you still hold back in every... friendship... you have because you feel that you betrayed her."

"I did betray her," Etta insisted.

"I also know that you turned your back on everything you were raised to believe, and you did it for her," Demarco continued, inwardly pleased that she didn't hear the snarl of her Wolf in her voice. 

"Raised by an evil warlock," Etta pointed out.

"It doesn't matter," Demarco insisted, wishing Etta would just listen to reason. "Right or wrong, it was what you knew. You gave up everything that you had defined your life by... for her. You know what that all sounds like to me? Love! Just admit it. You love Miranda Goth."

"What about..." Etta started softly.

"Us?" Demarco asked bitterly. The tension in her threatened to snap. It was good, the reasonable part of her thought, that they were having this conversation now, after the full moon. She needed to have this conversation as a Woman. "What about us? What are we? We used to be 'just friends' because you said you weren't ready to offer more than that. I was OK with that. Then, we both nearly got killed by some big hairy monster..."

"Troll," Etta sighed. "It was a troll."

"... and we kissed. We made love... and then... what?" Demarco continued. "We've never defined what we have. You've never been willing to. So, what are we, Etta? Friends with benefits? Fuckbuddies? Lovers? You keep saying that witches aren't monogamous."

"But werewolves are," Etta pointed out.

"What? The whole Wolves mate for life thing? We both know that's bullshit," Demarco snapped, tasting the lie on her lips. True, she'd known one who definitely wasn't a one-woman-werewolf, but Kiril was also a treacherous, scheming scumbag. Every other mated Wolf she knew was fiercely monogamous. "Just... just tell her what you feel."

Tell me what you feel, the Woman in her screamed silently.

"Lux, I... I..." Etta took a deep breath. "I think we're being followed."

"What?" Demarco blinked. Startled, she tasted the air but found nothing. Irritated, she was about to turn and call Etta out when the wind shifted and she caught a familiar, threatening scent. Damn it, she cursed herself. She'd been so distracted, thinking with her Woman's mind, that her Wolf’s instincts had been blinded to the danger. "The woman in black."

"How do you want to play it?" Etta asked calmly. Whatever emotional turmoil she felt, she'd set aside to deal with the threat. Demarco always envied that about her.

"Split," Demarco said, her voice thickening as the Wolf rose within her. "You go straight, I'll break right. We'll see which one of us she follows."

"It's too open. Too many people around," Etta said. "We should try to shake her."

"So, if she follows you, shake her. I'll do the same. We meet at Beardy Bill's," Demarco said. "It's remote enough, if we can't shake her off, we can confront her there. You know we're not done with this conversation, right?"

"I know," Etta smiled. "We'll finish it. I promise."