Harley Merlin 8: Harley Merlin and the Challenge of Chaos

by Forrest, Bella

  “Actually, you’d be more likely to be a warlock or a sorcerer than a wizard,” Louella said brightly. “A warlock is someone who gains magic from a higher power, a sorcerer is someone who gains magic from within, and a wizard is someone who gains magic from books and learning, which we all know you’re not a fan of, Finch.”

  “Hey, I have dust allergies!” Finch protested. “If I get within a few inches of those ancient books, I’ll be sneezing for weeks. You should be thanking your lucky stars I’m not a wizard. There’d be boogers everywhere, seriously.”

  “Do you hear that, everyone?” Wade replied. “Finch has a book allergy. That’s why he hates learning.”

  “Oh, that’s right, gang up on the degenerate.” Finch smirked, clearly pleased by all the attention. “I’ll have you know, I’m actually a very learned man. Street smarts, not book smarts, am I right, Harley? And I read plenty of books, just not dusty old ones.”

  “Don’t bring your sister into this,” Wade retorted. “That’s calling for bias. And comic books aren’t books.”

  Finch looked horrified. “Who told you about the comic books?” He glanced at me. “Sis, I’m wounded. That was our secret. Anyway, I’ll have you know they are the perfect vessel for literature. You’re just saying that because you probably can’t read them. Here’s a hint, it goes left to right, same as any other book.”

  “You keep telling yourself that.” Wade smiled.

  “I read novels, too,” Finch muttered.

  The rest of the Rag Team chuckled at Finch and Wade’s little repartee, which made me smile properly for the first time in what felt like forever. It’d been a while since I’d sat with the whole crew like this, just drinking coffee and shooting the breeze. It felt nice to be with them, at the same table, talking like we did in the early days, long before this Katherine nightmare began to unravel. Granted, we had new folks, like Finch—of all people—and Louella, but they only added to the good vibes. Times had changed, and so had I. We all had.

  This was exactly why I had to work alone—so that I could keep every single one of these people alive. Losing Isadora and, in a way, Jacob, had changed my perspective irrevocably. Now, I couldn’t ask for my friends’ help, no matter how alone or lost I felt, or how much I needed them. I just needed to keep reminding myself that I was doing this for their sakes.

  We all looked up as Imogene entered the Banquet Hall and made a beeline for us. She looked stressed, but she was dressed as pristinely as ever, in a flowy blouse and trousers combo with a cream cardigan over the top.

  “Ah, there you are,” she said, as she neared. “I’ve been looking all over, and none of you have been answering your phones. I was so worried.”

  I checked my phone, which had been on silent, to find a couple of missed calls. “Sorry, Imogene.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” she replied, with a sigh. “I’ve found you.”

  “Has something happened?” Astrid asked.

  She shook her head. “Not exactly, but I thought it important to update you all on what’s currently in the works.” She gave a half-smile that made me feel guilty. With everything that was going on, this woman had to be under one heck of a pile of stress.

  “Could I have one of these?” She pointed to the cafetière of coffee and the empty mugs beside it.

  “Sure, fill your boots,” Santana urged. “It’s the good, Mexican stuff. I made sure.”

  Imogene chuckled. “Then I’m grateful for your influence, Ms. Catemaco.” She poured herself a mug and took a long, satisfied sip before speaking again. “Ah, that’s much better. Now I can feel somewhat human again.”

  “Are you sure nothing’s happened? You look kind of on edge. No offense,” Finch said.

  “I’m sure you would be, too, in my position,” she replied, not unkindly.

  “Fair point.”

  “Now, as you know, O’Halloran is busy recruiting people for a secret army, but the cult’s influence has spread much farther and wider than we had anticipated. Remington has discovered that it is far worse than we had previously imagined,” she explained. “Too many magicals from the upper echelons of society are acting strangely. For that reason, we have come to the unfortunate conclusion that no one can be trusted within the realm of magical leadership, as it presently stands.”

  “I was worried about that,” Wade murmured.

  Imogene nodded. “As was I, and I hate to see that I was proven right. I’d have been all too happy to be wrong in this instance. However, I wish to assure you that I’m doing all I can, along with Remington and O’Halloran, who are two of the few people I can still trust. Yourselves included, of course.”

  “Even after pill-gate?” Santana replied.

  “O’Halloran has shown no signs of residual effects, and my friend in the Seoul Coven was adamant that the antidote would work. He’s a top alchemist in his field, so I have little reason to disbelieve him.” She paused. “Speaking of ‘pill-gate,’ as you put it, we’re still trying to catch up with those who are circulating the tablets. They may be gone from the SDC, but their influence is rife everywhere else, as far as I can tell. One of the cult members is bound to slip up soon, and when they do, we shall hopefully be there to accost them so that we may get to the root of the problem. An antidote can only fix so much, but it can do very little if those pills are still in circulation.”

  “I guess it’s also hard to tell who’s been taking the pills, if their memories are blacked out, right?” Garrett said.

  “Precisely. It’s like trying to grasp at water. The moment we think we have something, it trickles through our fingers.” Imogene took a longer sip of her coffee. “In addition, we’re also hard at work trying to get a lead on Katherine’s current whereabouts, though that’s also proving to be tricky. Have you made any progress on that?”

  “Well, actually, Harley has been—” Astrid began, but I cut her off.

  “We’re doing some searches of our own, across the grid,” I said. Astrid and Santana looked at me in surprise, prompting me to send out two faint tendrils of reverse Empathy, using threads of contentment I’d been feeling a moment ago to keep them quiet. They didn’t seem too pleased with my unannounced decision not to tell Imogene, our coven director, about my monster training and the goal of finding Naima. Fortunately, nobody else at the table realized what I’d just done. I had my reverse Empathy down to a fine art these days, which meant it could go relatively unnoticed, even in a group.

  However, one set of burning eyes made me turn slightly, my skin prickling. It appeared I’d managed to hoodwink all but one person at the table—Finch. He sat there, giving me the stink eye. For once, Finch, couldn’t you have just gone along with it? He didn’t look too impressed by what I’d done, but we’d probably hash that out later.

  “That’s good to hear,” Imogene replied. “Speaking of leads, have you made any progress with the Grimoire?”

  “I’m working on it,” was all I said.

  Wade glanced at me in shock, along with the rest of the Rag Team. Evidently, they all thought I’d given up on the Grimoire, too, since I hadn’t mentioned it since yesterday, and the last they’d heard, it was a dead-end street.

  “You are?” the Rag Team chorused.

  “I’ve got some ideas, but they’re all pretty up in the air,” I replied, not going into detail. I wanted to feel out Imogene’s emotions, to make sure she hadn’t learned anything new from Alton, but she had that blocker bracelet on. Then again, she hadn’t mentioned Necromancers, which gave me a sliver of hope that Alton had kept his promise.

  “Well, I hope you keep at it, if you feel able,” Imogene encouraged. “You’re a very capable magical. You all are. We’ll stop Katherine one way or another, even if that doesn’t come from the Grimoire. Don’t lose hope—we still have time to make this right.” She downed the rest of her coffee and set the mug on the table like a cowboy throwing back tequila slammers in a bar. “Now, I must continue in my work. Don’t hesitate to call me if you disc
over anything new.”

  “We won’t,” Wade replied, his eyes still on me.

  Straightening her cardigan, Imogene turned on her heel and walked out of the Banquet Hall, leaving an air of confusion to settle across the table. I focused on the coffee in my mug, feeling the intense gaze of the others on me. Why had Imogene brought that up, in front of everyone? I knew she didn’t mean anything by it, but it was a bit inconvenient right now, since I was planning on doing the Grimoire thing alone.

  “Do you want to work with me and Finch on the Grimoire?” Wade asked, his hand on the small of my back. “We made a pretty decent team the other day, and to be honest, the kid’s starting to grow on me. Like mold, or a rash.”

  “Eh, less of the kid,” Finch retorted. “And there’s no ointment for me, so don’t even try. Once you learn to love me, there’s no going back. I’m like magical herpes.”

  “Finch, that’s disgusting.” Santana laughed.

  He shrugged. “Facts are facts, mi amigazo.”

  “Where’d you learn that?” Santana’s eyes widened.

  He smirked. “I may have a dust allergy, but I read. Weren’t you listening? I know things. Now, Sis, what do you say to testing the limits of that allergy a little more and getting to grips with that ol’ Grimoire?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t really feel up to it, to be honest. I’d rather go and join Tobe and do some more Purge beast training. It lets me vent a bit more than the Grimoire. I’d just lose my mind if I had to sit and stare at those pages today.”

  “Now that you mention your beastie training, how come you didn’t want to tell the Woman in White about it?” Finch eyed me suspiciously.

  I shrugged. “I’ve learned that, sometimes, it’s better not to tell people everything you’re doing, especially with all this pill stuff going around. Plus, I’m not sure if Imogene would be able to hack it. Everyone thinks the sun shines out of her ass, but it’s been all talk and little action with her. I’m sure she’s trying, but we’re running out of time. We’ve got to handle this on our own.”

  “Harley…” Tatyana’s voice held a warning.

  “I know, I know, I’m probably being massively unfair, but if Katherine’s influence is spreading as fast as Imogene says it is, then there’s no telling when it’ll reach the SDC’s upper echelons, too. For all we know, it already has, and we’re better off trusting each other and nobody else.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with Harley’s logic,” Dr. Krieger replied, to my surprise. “One too many people knew about the magical detector, and look where that got us. Yes, we’ve since learned that the real Rita is innocent of any wrongdoing, but Katherine was able to use her image to get where she needed to be, and we have yet to explain how she knew when to strike. For all we know, there may have been times when we were speaking with Rita when we were actually speaking with Katherine. At least, within this group, we all know that we are who we say we are. Harley’s Empathy can attest to that.”

  I offered him a grateful smile. “So, forgive me if you think I’m feeling you out, in the coming days. I’m just making sure everyone is who they’re supposed to be.”

  Krieger had made a valid point. At some point soon, I needed to go over who knew about the detector. If Rita was off the hook, then that left the others who’d been near it, or had known about it, somewhere along the line. There was every chance that it had simply been Katherine masquerading as Rita, and countless other coven individuals, and that everyone here was innocent. But there was also a chance that they weren’t. One of them could’ve leaked the information to Katherine, giving her suspiciously perfect timing.

  Which left one cold, hard fact: the only person I could trust right now was myself.

  Fourteen

  Harley

  Being back in the Bestiary brought me an unexpected sense of calm. In the glass box, I could be alone with my abilities and my thoughts, preparing myself for more than just manipulating Naima.

  Louella and Krieger had gone back to the infirmary after breakfast so that Louella could try some more of her newly returned Telepathy on Jacob, who was our last viable witness to what had happened that day in Krieger’s office.

  Meanwhile, the Rag Team members were busy working on more leads to get them to Naima. Astrid was scouring the globe with Smartie’s help, from the comfort of her cozy little headquarters, with Garrett and Santana pulling together a dossier on possible locations, though I got the feeling Garrett just wanted to be closer to Astrid. Tatyana and Dylan were on the hunt for two known cultists who’d been seen in the California area—Ozymandias Fleming and Constance Pipistrelle. They were two of the most made-up names I’d ever heard, but, apparently, they were legit.

  With no Portal Opener at our disposal, Tatyana and Dylan had been forced to take a car along the coast to Pasadena, to follow the trail of these two cultists. I’d heard them arguing as to who was going to do the driving as they left.

  Raffe, as far as I knew, had retreated to his personal cell so he could speak with Kadar about how they were going to wrestle with Zalaam for control of Levi’s body. I guessed there might have been the possibility of it getting a little ugly, considering the other things they had to talk about, which was why Raffe had chosen to lock them both up instead of having the conversation out in the open.

  The only two who didn’t seem to have anywhere else to go were Wade and Finch, who’d insisted on joining me in the Bestiary, even though I’d told them I’d probably do better without an audience. They hadn’t taken the bait, and were standing together while I spoke to Tobe about what state the gargoyles were currently in.

  “Shouldn’t you be doing something more useful, Crowley?” Finch muttered. “Seems a waste of all that private school money, if all you’re going to do is stand here gawping at Harley. What would your mother and father say? Mr. Ivy League, skimping out on his duties.”

  “You don’t need to be here, either,” Wade replied.

  “I’m the one with the first-aid kit,” Finch protested.

  “Then hand it here and you can be on your way.”

  Finch shook his head. “No, I do have to be here. I’ve got to stay at Harley’s side. That came from the top.”

  “No, you have to be watched over. Imogene never said it had to be Harley who did the watching, and she’s got enough on her plate without having to babysit degenerates.”

  “Then does that make you the babysitter?” Finch grinned. “You should be honored. I’ll let you watch the free, triple-X channels if you let me stay up past my bedtime.”

  Wade rolled his eyes. “You never stop, do you?”

  I couldn’t help but smile at them. On the outside, it looked like they hated each other, but the frost between them had thawed considerably since they’d met again, post-Purgatory. There wasn’t much venom in their banter anymore.

  “The gargoyles are somewhat sprightly today,” Tobe warned, pulling my attention away from my brother and my boyfriend. “I thought they might settle after your last encounter, but they have continued to be… excitable. That is the most pleasant way I can phrase it.”

  “So, what you’re saying is, they’re going to claw my eyes out?”

  Tobe smiled. “I would not allow that. I should not have allowed them to scratch you as they did, but I will be better prepared this time. If I sense their aggression is too much for you to handle, I will pull you out of there.”

  “With that singing you did last time?”

  He looked slightly embarrassed. “You heard that?”

  “It was beautiful. What was it?”

  “Every Purge beast has a song that they respond to. When I was given life by my blessed Selma, I was also given the gift of these songs. They are innate within me, and they come to me when control becomes necessary.”

  “Could I use them?”

  He shook his head slowly. “Sadly no, otherwise I would grant you my gift. Only those who are like me may use those songs, for only our lungs can bear the vibrations.”
<
br />   “It was pretty impressive,” I replied.

  “I thank you.” He gave a small bow.

  “Besides, I’m betting I’d send the Purge beasts running for the hills if I started to sing.” I chuckled. “I’m not exactly a songbird, though the shower never seems to complain.”

  He flashed his fangs in a smile. “I fear I would shatter the glass in my own bathing facilities if I attempted such a concert.” I couldn’t imagine Tobe singing showtunes into his shampoo bottle, but then I couldn’t imagine Tobe dousing himself in shampoo, full stop. Still, it was a good way to ease my nerves before I stepped back into the glass aviary of slashing claws and screeching beasties.

  “I suppose I should get on with it.” I stretched out my tense muscles.

  “Are you certain?” Tobe replied.

  “Yep, I’m good to go.”

  “Remember to focus your energies on your reverse Empathy. You cannot win this with Elemental magic or Telekinesis, not with Naima.”

  I nodded. “Reverse Empathy. Got it.”

  He approached the huge glass box and unlocked the door, the forcefield shimmering as he gestured for me to enter. I stepped inside and took up my position. The swirling black smoke expanded and solidified as the gargoyles emerged from the ether into their true form. Before they’d all fully formed, I gripped my hands into fists and reached deep inside myself for the strongest emotions I could find. I focused on love and contentment, picturing myself around the Banquet Hall table with the rest of the Rag Team.

  Keeping my eyes open, I held the emotion in the pit of my chest, letting it gather strength as I drew my Chaos into it. A few seconds later, my whole body was jangling with energy, every cell practically throbbing with the strain of keeping it all together. I’d felt like this once before, after I’d first broken my Suppressor and had to deal with all of that raw power pulsating through my veins. I took control of that now, forcing the vibrating energy to hold inside my chest until it felt as though I had a giant ball of power swirling inside my ribcage, threatening to burst out at any moment.