Witch-Blood

by Ash Fitzsimmons

  He’d paled, but he rolled up his sleeves and nodded.

  “Now,” she continued, staring into Hel’s wide eyes, “you don’t have to go out there if you think you can’t hack it. I understand. If you think you can, though, I wouldn’t mind making this duet a trio.”

  “Helen, wait a minute,” Joey began, but she shook her head and looked back at Toula.

  “They just killed a barely-armed mundane,” she muttered. “I can’t stand for that.”

  “You’re in, then?”

  “I’m going to be the grand magus,” she snapped, pushing Toula off her. “Of course I’m in. And Joey…”

  Having released Stuart, he stood a few feet away, watching her with tight shoulders. “Are you sure about this?” he murmured.

  Hel stormed across the distance between them, grabbed his face, and pulled him into a long kiss. “Not at all,” she said when they broke apart. “So if something happens to me, you’d better damn well take care of my baby brother.”

  It was Joey who pulled her close that time, and she lingered in his embrace until Rufus said, “Ms. Carver, will you be joining us sometime this century?”

  She kissed him once more, quickly, then headed for the door. “Shields ready?”

  “Yep,” said Toula.

  Rufus eyed Hel curiously. “Do you, uh…do you want a wand or something?”

  My sister looked at him with disdain. “I’m sorry, but what part of ‘grand magus’ was unclear?”

  “Wait.”

  Toula groaned in exasperation and turned back from the vanguard. “No, Stuart, you’re not going out there, end of discussion. Play wizard later.”

  “I’m not pla—oh, forget that,” he said, and pointed to the armchair in the corner of the store and the worried occupant curled up on its seat. “She’s the dragon I saw in Faerie?”

  More or less, Georgie replied.

  Stuart jumped at the mental intrusion, but recovered almost immediately. “Can you breathe fire?”

  She nodded. Here, yes. I can’t do it in Faerie, but here, the magic’s different—

  “Then for crying out loud,” he exclaimed, throwing his skinny arms in the air as he turned back to the three at the door, “why not use the sentient flamethrower before you run out there and get shot?”

  “Okay, first,” Joey snapped, getting in Stuart’s face and putting his extra five inches to good use as his hackles rose, “Georgie is not a ‘sentient flamethrower,’ got it? That’s my partner, that’s my friend, and she can barely get around right now, so why don’t you back off before we lose anyone else?”

  It’s getting easier…

  “Don’t help him.”

  “Actually,” I mumbled, “he’s got a point.” Joey flipped on me with dagger eyes, but I stood my ground. “Not out the front—across the street. Those three take the main line, Georgie sneaks up from the rear. If she’s up to it?” I added, looking at her.

  Georgie nodded emphatically. If I could lean on someone, just in case…

  “If you’re going, I’m taking you,” said Joey, scooping her out of the chair. “Toula, gate.”

  Hel opened her mouth, but she held her peace and muttered under her breath as Toula ripped the universe open again. “If you go out there,” Toula warned him, ignoring Hel’s distress, “you’re going to be beyond the wards, and there isn’t going to be much I can do from here to help you if you get in trouble.”

  “Just take care of Helen,” he said, then shifted Georgie onto his hip, patted his sword for reassurance, and stepped through the tiny wormhole.

  The fatal flaw in the Arcanum’s assassin squad was that there had been a dearth of targets in recent years. Official policy was to avoid faeries unless confrontation was absolutely critical, which left few opportunities to practice clean kills. Sure, the wizards out front were magically talented and coordinated, but they didn’t have a full handle on our situation, and so Rufus, at least, was a nasty surprise for them to face.

  They didn’t have to look at him long, however, because the far nastier surprise was the little girl in Joey’s arms who paused in the doorway of Tea for Two, took a deep breath, and incinerated half the force. As the rest of the wizards stumbled around to see why their fellows were screaming and flailing, Toula, Hel, and Rufus took the opportunity to rush out from the store and attack them from the rear. In the chaos, the squad didn’t last long.

  When the last fell and was smoldering in the street, Stuart and I emerged to check for survivors and hurried to Mrs. Cooper’s side. But try as we did, we couldn’t find a pulse, and even Stuart gave up after a few minutes, stepped to the sidewalk, and sobbed. With some hesitation, Georgie wobbled over to him and patted his back. I’m really sorry I set her head on fire, she thought. That was an accident.

  Hel and Joey stood together, their arms around each other for mutual support, and stared at the carnage. Toula was busily pulling the helmets off the dead to ascertain their identities, and I looked to Rufus, who lurked on the edge of our group with an odd expression on his face. “Good shooting,” I told him. “Two torso shots in two seconds—wish I had aim like that.”

  He nodded, smiled weakly, then turned around and vomited in the gutter.

  While Rufus lost the last of his dinner, Toula came over and produced a glass of water from memory. “First kill?” she murmured, holding it out to him.

  “Yeah,” he croaked, taking the glass with a shaky hand. “What gave it away?”

  The ghost of a smile crossed her face, and she waited while his stomach calmed. “Aiden’s right, that was some nice shooting. Hunt much?”

  “No, skeet. About forty years ago.” He straightened, rinsed out his mouth, and spat into the storm drain. “So, you’re going to make me feel better and tell me your first time was like this, too?”

  “Nah. I knocked off Titania, and then my mother showed up, and it all went to hell. No puking, just a lifetime of angst to work through.” She looked around at the corpses in the street, then closed her eyes and spread her hands. In an instant, the dead had vanished, and Toula stopped Stuart before he could cry out. “No bodies means fewer questions,” she murmured, “and there was nothing we could have done for her. Magic can’t always do miracles.”

  He rubbed his eyes dry and sniffed, but his chin continued to tremble. “In the Circle, there’s talk of dark—”

  “Stuart, please, not now,” she said wearily. “We’ve got to hurry.”

  He gave up and let Toula lead him back into his building. I started to follow, but I reconsidered and ran up into Mrs. Cooper’s apartment first to turn off her lights.

  It was the least I could do.

  By the time I got back through the wards, Toula had gathered everyone in the store and assumed command. “We can’t know which of us they’re tracking,” she told Hel, who stood by with her arms crossed. “My blood’s on file, yours certainly is…I bet they’ve got a sample on Aiden, too, and if not, all it would take to find both of you would be a finger prick from Daddy. But they’ve got finite personnel, so we may as well make them split and stretch. Come on, Carver,” she murmured, “you know I’m right.”

  Hel considered this in tight-lipped silence for a moment, then muttered, “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

  “Who said anything about liking it? This is about evasive maneuvers, not vacation planning.” She looked around the room, considered our numbers, then pointed to Rufus. “We need someone with talent on the Florida excursion. Up for it?”

  “Sure,” he replied, frowning, “but what about—”

  “He has to go along,” she explained, nodding to me, “and my job right now is to stay the hell away from him.”

  “Wait,” I said, pushing toward her through the display tables, “what am I doing? Where’re you going?”

  Toula sighed and ran her hands through her mussed spikes. “We’re trying to get a meeting with Grivam, right? Well, you don’t just ask a king for a chat unless you’re decently connected. Our best shot might
be if the request came from you.”

  “Me?” I mumbled, feeling queasy.

  “High lord trumps Greg’s gofer,” she replied with a smirk. “So you’re going. Rufus, you’re the muscle, and you’re going to have to send the message down.”

  “I don’t even know where we’re heading,” he protested.

  “Which is why Percival’s going with you,” she continued, pointing to Joey. “And to be safe, let’s throw in Thunder Lizard.”

  Georgie, who was leaning on a table of paperback grimoires for balance, rolled her eyes and thought, I do have a name, you know.

  “But you’re such fun when you’re peeved,” Toula replied, then turned her attention to the remainder. “We need to get Vivi, Rick, and Hal up and packed. Stuart, you’re going with them. Carver…” She considered my sister for a few seconds, then said, “You know the Arcanum hubs as well as I do. Keep the mundies under the radar until we can rendezvous. I’m going on the run, but I’ll be in touch.”

  “A suggestion,” said Rufus, seeing Hel’s unease. “My parents’ home. They’ve all been guests before.”

  “Maybe so,” said Joey, “but since, you know, we’re trying to sneak up on Oberon…”

  He shook his head and held up two fingers. “First, I don’t think that’s going to be nearly as great a problem as you anticipate. Second, if I tell them there’s an Arcanum hit squad after Vivi, they’ll do whatever it takes and tell the old bastard to screw himself.”

  “Protective much?” Toula muttered.

  “Of the baby, their only daughter, the mortal?” he countered. “Why would that surprise you?”

  While Toula woke the others and delivered the bad news, Rufus stepped behind the counter and borrowed Stuart’s landline to make the arrangements. One brief call later, he returned and flashed a quick thumbs-up. “They’re all expected. How soon?”

  “Rick’s on the way,” Toula replied, then pointed to the gate floating to her left. “Hel just went through to help Vivi pack. Coach is having to make up a family emergency and put calls in before they leave town.” She watched as Stuart lugged an overstuffed black Samsonite down the stairs, then asked him, “Cats?”

  “Remarkably…resourceful,” he muttered, punctuating his words with the thumping suitcase. “They have…a cat flap.”

  “Just remind me to deactivate the wards, then,” she replied. “And hey, Stuart?” He dragged his case to the floor and turned to her, and she murmured, “I’m really sorry, man. She was…quality.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at the floor for a moment, then added, “Don’t suppose they make them like that anymore, do they? We had our differences, but Auntie Eunice…” He sniffed and angrily swiped at his face. “There’s no body. She deserves a funeral at least, she would have wanted that Reverend Martin guy to do it…” His voice trailed off, and as he hugged himself, he seemed to lose about twenty years.

  Rufus stood in awkward silence as Stuart fought back a fresh bout of tears, then asked, “Would you have a good-sized piece of wood, by chance?”

  “I…well, I’ve got a little out back,” he replied, puzzled, “but it’s just firewood, and it’s still wet after the rain Saturday morning…”

  “Never mind, I can make that, too.” Rufus closed his eyes and gestured, and a fat log appeared in the middle of the store. “Please don’t be offended,” he said, then spread his hands over the log. As the enchantment took effect, the wood morphed into Mrs. Cooper’s form and features, down to an off-white nightgown and a mask of cold cream. “Glamour,” he explained before Stuart could object. “Unless someone puts samples under a microscope, it should pass embalming without much notice.”

  Stuart hesitated, then touched the figure’s bare hand. “Still a little warm,” he declared, surprised, and pressed harder against the fake flesh. “And it feels right…”

  “Best I can do.” Rufus waited while Stuart completed his examination, then said, “If we put her in her bed and lock up, the person who finds her will think she passed in her sleep. No fingers pointed at you, no unsolved homicides. Acceptable?” Stuart nodded, and Rufus levitated the body from the floor. “Toula, would you get the gate?”

  She opened a fresh one and watched them as they set about arranging the decoy in Mrs. Cooper’s bed. For the first time since I’d met her, Toula looked her age. Granted, this was only about a ten-year difference, but she seemed drawn, as if the bluster had finally gone out of her. “You all right?” I asked.

  “Ha.” She turned away from the gate, frowned at a flurry of motion on the floor, then plucked one of Stuart’s cats out of its latest hiding place and rubbed its ears. “Honestly? I’m about as far from all right as I’ve been in a while,” she said, running her fingers down the rumbling cat’s neck. “Eunice Cooper was one of the good ones. She was always kind to me, and that…” Toula paused and swallowed. “That’s rare, you know?” She shifted the cat to her shoulder and stroked its back, and when she resumed, her voice was lower and harder. “Greg never said anything about an assassin squad. Either he’s lost control of the Council or he’s a sick bastard, and I don’t like those choices. So no, Aiden, I’m not all right. But I’ll make do.”

  Rufus and Stuart stepped back through the gate, and the cat, suddenly terrified, hissed and jumped from Toula’s arms. “Sorry about that,” said Rufus, rubbing the back of his neck as the cat scrambled for cover. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “Faeries,” she muttered, closing the gate with a flick of her fingers.

  “Oh, look who’s talking,” he retorted, and followed her toward the staircase.

  “What do you mean? Animals love me.”

  “Only because you’re confusing.”

  Stuart and I watched them go, and when the apartment door slammed, he quietly said, “They’re scared to death, aren’t they?”

  “Looks like it,” I replied, and spotted Georgie picking her way around the tables. “Need something?” I asked her.

  No. She caught herself just before tripping into a ceremonial drum, then steadied her steps, walked up to Stuart, and threw her arms around his waist.

  He stiffened, surprised to find himself in an ambush, then bent and hugged her back. “Thank you,” he mumbled into her hair.

  I really am sorry about setting her on fire.

  Stuart patted her shoulders and sighed. “Just don’t eat my cats.”

  It was only four in the morning when the last of the stragglers showed up with a suitcase, but there was no sense in waiting for dawn. “Be careful,” Rufus told Vivi, stooping to kiss her cheek before she passed through the gate to their parents’ place. I could tell she’d been crying—her face was still splotchy and bore telltale mascara tracks—but for the moment, she was holding it together. “Did you pack a coat?” he asked her.

  “Rufe.” She pushed her smudged glasses down her nose and met his dark eyes. “Don’t worry about me, okay? And don’t do anything stupid out there.”

  She hugged him, grabbed her bag, and passed through the gate to join Rick, Hal, and the elder Stowes, and Rufus gave his parents a little wave as he beckoned my sister forward. “Helen, you’re up,” he said, but she lingered for one last kiss from Joey.

  “If you get yourself killed out there,” Hel whispered, “I will never forgive you. Got it?” Joey squeezed her and let her slip free, and she looked up at me. “Same for you, Aid. Don’t be a hero. Come back alive. Understood?”

  “I don’t have to kiss you, too, do I?”

  She punched me in the stomach and attacked me with a too-tight hug when my defenses were down. “Call when you can,” she said when she released me. “When it’s safe, when you’ve got a phone—”

  “We’ll call,” Joey assured her, and he watched her go until Rufus closed the gate behind her. “So,” he muttered, looking at the few of us remaining, “time to hit the road?”

  “Get on your way—I’ll lock up. And here,” Toula offered, then opened another gate onto the parking lot of a seafoam-green stucco
motel with a giant pelican on the roof. “I remember seeing this place when we drove through Miami,” she explained. “It’s maybe three hours to East Rock Key from there. Get a room, get a car, whatever you need. And speaking of which, did anyone think to bring a wallet?”

  Joey nodded and shouldered his bag. “Take care of yourself, Glinda.”

  “Shut up,” she said, flashing a weak grin, and watched with Stuart’s jittery cats as we trundled off into the cool predawn.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  As the odds of finding an open car rental place before sunup were slim, we decided to check into the motel for a few hours, if for nothing more than a place to sit. Leaving the rest of us and his sword in the parking lot, Joey headed inside to book a pair of rooms. Rufus had offered to pay, but Joey turned him down and flashed a debit card, explaining, “I’ve been making trips out of Faerie. Boss wanted me to be prepared.”

  Joey neglected to mention that most of these trips had been to Nashville, but from the look Rufus gave me as Joey trudged toward the sliding glass doors, the subtext was clear. I gave him a half-smile in return—it was the most I could manage that night—and Rufus leaned against a palm tree and sighed. “You may have noticed the young man trailing after my sister like an oversized kitten,” he said, tucking his hands behind his head. “Just stay out of it, Aiden. Believe me, unless someone’s getting hurt, it’s the best thing you can do.”

  I didn’t know how he was comfortable standing there with his shirt sleeves still rolled to the elbows. The night was chilly, and along with my coat, I was glad to have Georgie leaning against me. Her balance had vastly improved in the last day or two—she probably could have toddled around on her own—but with the fire burning inside her, she was the functional equivalent of an electric blanket, and I didn’t mind holding her steady.

  When I said nothing, Rufus considered me more closely. “If you’re not in the mood for conversation, tell me. Then again, I don’t know about you, but I’d talk about the tax code with an IRS agent if it meant I didn’t have to think about what I just saw.”