Torchlighters

by Megan R Miller

  “I’d be lying if I said it didn’t,” Callum said, trying not to sound as winded as he was and failing spectacularly.

  “Tell me what happened, little ember,” she said, extending her free hand to touch his cheek. For a moment, Callum started to pull away, but she was faster and the edges of the world became soft. “I’m listening and I am here for you.”

  “Barghest picked me up,” Callum said. “The hellhounds. They’re going to call my mother, I can’t keep this a secret for much longer.”

  “Oh, darling, there’s no need for that worry,” Lena said. “Your father doesn’t trust the Hellwatch at the best of times and your mother would never forgive him for lying about something like that.”

  It sounded wrong. Like on some level this would be crossing a line. But Lena was so sure, and this was so important…

  “What if you’re wrong?” he asked.

  “Oh, I’m not,” Lena said, chuckling. “Relax and stay hidden. You haven’t revealed yourself to anyone else, have you?”

  In the back of his mind, he thought of Ely and Sam. He pushed his thoughts of her way down. Not that. Ely wouldn’t tell. Sam hadn’t told. Lena didn’t need to know.

  “No,” Callum said.

  “Good boy,” Lena said. She removed her hand and took another drag from her cigarette. “Don’t tell your parents yet.”

  A plume of smoke escaped her lips as she said it.

  “Is there anything you need from me?”

  “Not unless you’ve found anything else out about these daggers,” Callum said. “I learned they’re going after nephilim now.”

  “Do not forget,” Lena said, “they are still missing their afrite. Whatever they are trying to do with this they cannot do it so easily as they believe they can. The moment they find out you’re alive, that changes. They will simply go and get another one.”

  “I know,” Callum said. “I’m being careful.”

  “See to it that you do,” Lena said. “There will be a new mask for you in the dead drop.”

  With that, she started to walk. Callum waited until her footsteps faded to look up at Tixi’s perch. She was gone. A moment later she appeared as a weight on his right shoulder and he jumped a little.

  “She’s got her fingers in your mind,” Tixi said. “Did you know?”

  Her words cut through the fog.

  “I…”

  He wanted to say he didn’t. But he wasn’t surprised. On some level he had known this. He wanted to think he was stronger than that. He wanted to think he had the kind of will that could not be swept under by the mind games of a witch.

  His chest tightened and he took a step back to touch the brick wall behind him. He could hear his heart hammering in his ears. Tixi ran her tiny fingers through his hair in a comforting way.

  “There, there,” she said. “Now is no time to fall apart, Trezza. We’ve got company incoming.”

  His head snapped up and he saw she was right. Long shadows bent in the wisplight against the end of the alleyway and he could hear them jostling one another and raising a ruckus.

  They sure weren’t Hellwatch, but he was far enough into the city that they could easily be worse. Gaters.

  “We should go,” Tixi said.

  “I don’t think so,” Callum said, straightening. His blood was burning. How dare she. How dare she get inside his head and move things around without his leave. How dare she lead him into lying to his family. How dare she make so much sense, and how dare she lure him into trusting her with that doll face of hers.

  As the three men rounded the corner, he caught flashes of Gate Street Gold. Callum grinned.

  “You fellas picked the wrong alley,” he said. He slipped the button of his cuff and started to shove both shirtsleeves up to the elbow.

  “Who do you think you are?” the one in the middle demanded, stepping forward. Callum extended and curled his fingers as he stepped forward. Flames sprang to life, crackling along his fingers and licking up his forearms.

  “Just a man about to burn a few piss jackets,” Callum said. “Go ahead and try to buzz off, I feel like chasing you down right now.”

  From the smell of it, one of them actually pissed themselves.

  “Trezza?” the one on the right asked through a throat that sounded dryer than the wastes.

  “Baloney, we saw them bury him,” the one on the right said. He didn’t sound convinced.

  Callum grinned and threw a ball of fire at their feet. They started running. He chased, as good as his word. The fire inside him came rolling out of his fingertips and, curling up his skin and throwing shadows all around the alley as his leather shoes scraped the brick street and he went careening around the corner.

  His second fireball caught one man in the back and he shrieked as he went down, frantically trying to put himself out. Callum threw another ball of fire into him for good measure and kept running.

  The heat and ache in his legs felt good, like an outlet for the raw rage he felt on the inside. Lena was gone, and he couldn’t go after her right now, but he could take these shmucks. He reeled back to throw a third fireball, when a hand caught him around the wrist and he was hauled back off his feet.

  “So Barghest wasn’t lying,” a voice said. Callum would have known Uncle Danny anywhere. He struggled, tugged at his arm, but a pair of strong hands went around his shoulders and turned him around to hold him at arm’s length and the heat in his uncle’s hazel eyes took the fight right out of him. “Look at you.”

  “Let me explain,” Callum said. Now his voice sounded dry.

  “Oh, you’re gonna,” Uncle Danny said. “Running around out here burning Gate Street like we’re not already on the verge of war with them over your little stunt.”

  There was a beat of silence and Danny narrowed his eyes. His fingers clenched tighter.

  “Prove it’s you,” he said.

  “What?” Callum asked.

  “There are creatures out there that can change their skins like they change their clothes and I saw them bury you. I saw you lying in that coffin. Prove it’s you and not some shifter pretending to be,” Danny said. His voice was low and soft and dangerous. A cold chill ran through Callum’s blood as he realized how serious Danny was right now, and that if he couldn’t make his case, his uncle might actually kill him.

  It had always been kind of funny when Uncle Danny made threats, but now that he found himself on the receiving end of one, there was nothing humorous about it at all.

  “How do I prove something like that?” Callum asked.

  “Tell me what you said the night your sister was born,” Danny said.

  “What, that she looked like a bald rat?” Callum asked.

  Danny relaxed immediately and pulled Callum into a tight hug.

  “If you ever scare me, or my brother, or your poor mother like that again, I’m going to throw you in the river tied to a brick, do you understand me?” Danny asked. There was no bite in it, this time. Callum hugged him back and found the tremble had returned to him.

  “I’m sorry,” he breathed.

  “Sorry for letting us all think we’d lost you?” Danny asked. “Come on, you need to head home.”

  “Wait,” Callum said. He didn’t have anything left in him to fight with. If Uncle Danny wanted to push this, that was going to be the end of it. Callum straightened and pulled his hand free. Danny folded arms the size of young tree trunks and waited. “Can we please go back to your place and talk about this first? Let me explain the situation, I swear I didn’t do this for no reason.”

  “There’s no reason good enough,” Danny said. “But fine. Come on, kid.”

  They walked, and Callum felt himself calming every step of the way. It was a longer trek than he remembered from this part of town to his Uncle’s loft apartment over the burnt out ruin of what used to be the general store. The building was structurally sound and he’d carved this space out for himself years ago.

  There were too many stairs. Callum’s whole bod
y was burning from exhaustion and by the time he dropped onto the green suede divan, he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep for a hundred years. Tixi climbed up onto the back of the divan and swished her tail against the fabric.

  “Start talking,” Danny said, dropping into an arm chair. “And while you’re at it introduce me to your friend.”

  He drew out a pair of crystal glasses just like the ones they had at home and poured a brandy for himself and one for Callum before sliding it over to him. Callum took the glass in both hands and took a deep breath.

  “This is Tixi,” he said. “She’s helping me out for caramel candies. Tixi, this is my Uncle Danny.”

  “Enchanted,” Tixi said, dipping into a little bow as her long tail arced through the air behind her.

  “I’ve never met an imp with manners so good,” Danny said, nodding to her. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  “Careful,” Callum said, “she’ll do it and she’ll eat you out of house and home.”

  Danny was already pulling out a shot glass for the imp.

  “You still have explaining to do,” he said. “Start talking.”

  Tixi wrapped her tail around the shot glass Danny poured for her and brought it to her lips with a pleased flourish, and crossed her legs to listen. The amused expression on her face felt like a mild betrayal.

  “I got stabbed,” Callum said. “I went down and the next thing I knew there was a woman and she told me that I couldn’t come and tell you or anyone what happened to me because it would cause a lot of problems. She said the people that had done it would go to ground and it was important that they didn’t know I was alive. Tixi thinks she’s messing with my head.”

  “I don’t think,” Tixi said. “I saw. She was doing it. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

  “I see,” Danny said. “How long have you known?”

  “About ten minutes?” Callum asked. “Maybe an hour depending on how long it took to walk this far? It was a long walk, my feet are howling.”

  “Stop complaining and finish your story,” Danny said, sipping his brandy. “It must have been some strong magic if she just told you telling us would ‘cause problems’ and left it at that. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “It was a sacrificial dagger,” Callum said. “Something that traps the soul for later. They were collecting half-breeds for something big. They think they got mine. If they know I’m alive, they know they don’t have it and they go after another afrite. And if they go after another afrite, they aren’t missing a piece to summon whatever it is they’re trying to call up.”

  There was a soft clink of glass on polished wood as Danny set his brandy on the table. He was staring at Callum now, dark hazel eyes shadowed by his furrowed brow in the dimly lit room. Callum sat up.

  “What kind of summoning takes seven cambion?” Danny asked.

  “And seven nephilim,” Callum said. “They started going after those next. I don’t want to say it, but if anything is going to take that many souls, and souls that potent…”

  “Ancients,” Danny muttered.

  “Exactly,” Callum said, flinching a little bit. Humans were one thing. Angels and demons, another, more powerful thing. Ancients made angels and demons look like humans in comparison. It was impossible for him to fathom what one might possibly want.

  He really doubted it would be as simple as caramels.

  “I’ve been investigating the situation from the shadows, masked and trying to figure it all out. I thought…”

  “You thought you’d stop this and come home,” Danny said, “and you didn’t think we’d help you?”

  Callum ran both hands through his hair.

  “She said everyone knew how my dad was going to react,” Callum said, “and that it would be off if he knew the truth.”

  Sammy knew. Ely knew. He couldn’t tell Uncle Danny that without dragging them down with him. Maybe Ely deserved it, but Sam? No way.

  “If it helps,” Tixi said, unsolicited, “it was very strong magic. I watched her do it.”

  “And you didn’t do anything?” Danny asked, lifting a brow.

  “Honey, I’m an imp,” Tixi said. “That woman’s blood was a demonic cocktail and she was a trained witch to boot. I wasn’t going to get involved with that.”

  “Wait, what?” Callum asked, looking back at her over his shoulder. “Lena’s more than one kind of cambion?”

  “Three quarters demon if she’s a drop,” Tixi said, eyes wide and serious. “Two djinn lines, concubus and a drop of human. But don’t feel bad, Rhys is a trained witch, too, and she still managed to get him.”

  Callum stared at Tixi. She ran her fingers along her tail.

  “What?” she asked.

  “She went to Rhys and you didn’t tell me before now?” Callum asked.

  “Hey,” she said, “I only just now found out you knew her and then you were throwing fire at shoeshiners and getting hauled away by your very large and very scary uncle. When did I have time to mention it before now, hm?”

  Callum looked to Uncle Danny briefly, then back to Tixi.

  “Make that six bags of caramel, little friend,” Callum said. “Assuming Uncle Danny is going to let me out of his sight again for a single second.”

  “You’re a grown man, Callum,” Danny said, “and I can’t stop you. But don’t expect me to keep your secrets for you. Ophelia already knows you’re alive, or she knows that Barghest said so. You’re going to have to go and see her eventually.”

  “I’ve been looking into this with Tess,” Callum said. “She and I have a crime scene to investigate together and I’m not sure Mom is going to let me go so easily after she sees me.”

  “Sounds an awful lot like an excuse to me,” Danny said.

  Callum reached over, picked up his glass of brandy and took a long sip from it, finally.

  “I don’t know what to say to her,” Callum said. “I don’t know what to say to Dad, either. All of this made so much sense an hour ago and now I just feel like I’ve let them all down. They’re never going to trust me again.”

  “You were under a spell, Cal,” Tixi said. She extended her shot glass to Danny with her tail and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Would you mind terribly, big guy? Thanks.”

  Danny refilled her glass, but his eyes never left Callum.

  “Everybody screws up at one point or another,” he said. “This is going to be hard, but the longer you wait the worse it gets. Shame will drown you if you let it.”

  “You sound like you know what you’re talking about,” Callum said.

  Uncle Danny laughed.

  “Everybody screws up at one point or another,” he repeated. “Ain’t always this big, but it always happens. Me and your old man included. Even your mother.”

  “What, straight-laced ex-Hellwatch Ophelia?” Callum said, snorting and dropping his gaze to the green carpet.

  “Ask her about it,” Uncle Danny said. “Disappearing without a word and letting everybody think you’re dead runs in the family.”

  Callum furrowed his brow and stared at Uncle Danny over the rim of his glass, but it was clear the older cambion wasn’t going to say another word about it. Callum gave a nod, and rolled back over onto his back on the divan.

  “If I stay here tonight,” Callum said, “are you going to call and tell on me?”

  “If your mother asks me if I’ve seen you I’m going to say you’re here,” Danny said, “but I won’t call her. You can have the night at least. It sounds like you’ve been through an ordeal.”

  He had. He was just so incredibly tired after all of it. He might have said more, might have asked questions, but the second Uncle Danny said it was okay and that he was safe—safe in a way he hadn’t been in weeks—his eyes were falling shut on him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Enemy Lines

  “If you’ve been listening to me for any length of time at all you know how much I hate having to indulge celebrity gossip, but it was on my docket
for the day and management isn’t going to let it go unless I tell you about it.

  Julianne Geist, up and coming factory moogle, has been arrested for insurance fraud. In a turn of events that is appalling only to people that liked her for some reason and surprises exactly no one, she burned down one of her own factories to get money to build new ones.

  Her family has declined to comment at this time. Well, no kidding. I wouldn’t want to talk about this either. So let’s move on before we hang any more of these people’s laundry out to dry, shall we?”

  Dorian was staring at her again.

  Ely had found she was good at playing the besotted girlfriend, but there was hardly any need for it when she was at the Ninth Circle on Dorian Asteri’s arm. He kept glancing at her like he was afraid some pickpocket was going to come through and take her away and he wouldn’t see it until it was too late. It was quickly becoming the way of things.

  The girls that enjoyed his magic show would glare at the pair of them and Ely would pretend not to notice while Dorian stared at her like she was the treasure here and she hadn’t just stolen him out from under the noses of his little fan club.

  Meanwhile, she had the best seat in the house to overhear anything she wanted. The magician’s girlfriend could justify anywhere she wanted to put herself.

  He’d been right, his act was very good.

  Tonight, though, there was a singer on stage and Ely was interested in a very different sort of diversion.

  “…to complete the set,” one of the passers-by was saying as they moved for the stairs. The other ducked his head and gave a quick look around the room that might have passed for casual to an observer that wasn’t her.

  They rounded a corner and up the steps to the second floor, where private rooms were held both for more discrete meals and different kinds of interludes. She leaned back into Dorian and looked up at him with large eyes.

  “Why don’t we get out of here?” she asked. He smiled at her, the left side of his lips tugging up just a hair farther than the right in a dopey grin that would probably have made one of his fans faint.