Darkangel(65)

A fire crackled in the hearth; it was a cold day, with a promise of snow overnight. We were both drinking coffee from my new Keurig coffeemaker. Aunt Rachel had turned up her nose at pre-fab coffee, but I found myself having a great time drinking a different flavor every day.

I set down my mug of hazelnut roast. “I wanted to ask you about the Wilcoxes’ kidnap attempt of Aunt Ruby.”

That did seem to surprise Margot; she lowered her own cup of French roast and shot me a quizzical look. “Why?”

“I found her diary,” I said frankly. I’d decided I might as well be up front about reading it. “She described the whole thing in some detail.”

“Interesting.” She tilted her head to one side, as if considering. “She never mentioned that she kept a diary.”

“I don’t know if she did, except for this one that she started around her twenty-first birthday. After the kidnap attempt, she didn’t write it in very much, except for writing about the day she met Great-Uncle Pat, and then a few entries about ordering her wedding gown, that kind of thing.” I wrapped my hands around the mug I held. It still felt cold in here, even with the fire blazing away. “I tried to ask Aunt Rachel about it once, and she just sort of blew me off. But I’m getting the feeling I haven’t been told the whole story.”

For a few seconds Margot didn’t say anything, only watched me carefully. She was a coldly beautiful woman who always reminded me of a retired ballerina, with her graceful neck and fine, sharp features. “I suppose Rachel thought she was trying to protect you. But you are prima now, and because you are in such a…vulnerable…position at the moment, it’s only right that you should know.” A pause, and she set her coffee mug down on a coaster on the side table next to her chair. “How much do you actually know of the Wilcoxes?”

“The usual,” I replied. “They came out here after losing some sort of clan war back in the 1800s — ”

“The 1870s, to be precise. Yes, they’d been caught doing some of the blackest kind of magic, and the other clans in New York united to drive them out. It wasn’t just the magic itself they feared, but that it would be discovered by the non-magical population. So Jeremiah Wilcox and about fifty of his followers headed west, and ended up in Flagstaff, which was very much a wild frontier town back then. My guess is that they thought their goings-on wouldn’t draw as much attention there. But Jeremiah’s wife died on the journey out here — ”

“And he took a wife from among the Navajo,” I finished for her.

She gave me a very thin smile. “‘Took’ being the operative word. He stole her from her tribe because she was supposed to be a very powerful witch, and he wanted to join her magic to his. This didn’t go over very well with her own people, as you can imagine, but they feared his magic, his ruthlessness, so there was no retaliation. She gave birth to a son, then took her own life — 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?”