by Sierra Cross
A little guffaw escaped me. “Assuming she doesn’t smite you the moment we step on her property.”
Liv blinked. “Why would this Marley witch smite you?”
“Luv, I am in no danger of being smote.” Asher had the grace to look embarrassed. “It’s just, well, when one asks a favor one must be prepared to grovel.”
Liv’s blue eyes narrowed. “Huh.”
Yeah, she was not buying that.
Even I didn’t know what had gone on between him and the beautiful forty-something witch he called a crone—maybe I never would get the details—but from the hints they’d both dropped it had been some kind of epic romantic drama. Asher was right; she probably did possess the magical knowledge we needed. Watching him face a powerful witch’s wrath would just be an entertaining bonus.
“If we leave now,” I said, “we’ll be at her compound before lunch.”
“Hmm.” Matt fished his smart phone from his cargo pocket and glared at the screen. As he often did. Ten years in the Void had left him behind technologically, and he was still struggling to catch up. “That should work, as long as we’re back to the Spelldrift by five to meet the guardian rep from Barcelona HQ.”
“Oh yeah.” Why did I keep forgetting about his upcoming meeting with the guardian rep? He’d set it up over a month ago, on the night I brought him back to the mortal realm. I’d fully supported his getting right back in touch with the Swords of Light Brotherhood, the elite paramilitary organization that raised and trained him to be a guardian. That was before I started to have feelings for him…and before I knew about the vow all guardians took. Never to fraternize with a witch. Now I was just praying this HQ rep didn’t take one look at our coven and decide to send in three seasoned, rigidly rule-obsessed guardians to monitor us.
Okay, so that was why I kept forgetting about the meeting.
My own phone vibrated in my pocket. I picked it up, ready to hit decline. Everyone I cared about was in this room. Plus, it was an unknown number. Probably a bad sales pitch. I groaned when my phone vibed again a few moments later with voice mail. Since when do telephone sales people leave messages?
Asher gave me a sharp look. “If we’re interfering with your social life…”
“Hang on a sec.” I pressed the button to play the message.
“Good morning!” Even though I hadn’t hit speaker, the cheery young male voice resonated loud enough for the whole study to hear. “This is an important message for Alexandra Hill, from Fidei Seattle.”
“The Fidei?” Asher and Matt sputtered almost in unison.
Liv and I shrugged at each other. It sounded no more threatening than my dentist’s receptionist confirming our appointment.
Then the buoyant voice went on. “Your full coven’s presence is requested in our office today. This visit is non-optional.” He added in an even brighter tone. “Thanks so much, and we look forward to seeing you at 10:00 a.m.”
“That’s in like an hour.” Matt suddenly looked like a kid who’d been reprimanded by the principal. “We’ll have to change. Everyone in fresh wardsuits.”
Whoa. “Matt, this is crazy.”
He ignored me. “I’ll dig out my Brotherhood crest—”
“They can’t just order us to show up within an hour,” I said.
Liv nodded in agreement. “Besides, we already have plans. We need to get to Marley’s, right?”
I looked to Asher for support, but he was already on his feet. “What part of ‘non-optional’ was confusing to you two?” He snapped. “It’s the flippin’ Fidei. We’re going, and we’ll damn well be on time.”
In the end, we got there early.
The Fidei office was right smack dab in the middle of the downtown Seattle business district, at fourth and Pike. It looked like any other hundred-year-old limestone building in this neck of the woods. Rippled glass windows cast anemic January sunlight on the polished granite floors that led to the reception desk. So far, I saw no evidence this wasn’t a law firm or a commercial real estate office.
The young man who greeted us looked a little burlier than most receptionists, but gave us a welcoming smile. “How may I help you?”
“We have an…um…” I’m not sure what to call a command appearance? “Appointment. I’m Alix Hill.” I thought he would ask us to wait in the lobby, but at my name he grabbed a card key and led us to the elevator. He swiped the security badge and pushed the button for the fourth floor.
“Jason will collect and take you in.” The receptionist, having lost his perky demeanor at last, now just looked like a youthful, biz-casual thug.
“This cannot be good. I’ve never been above the second floor.” Asher exhaled as the elevator doors met. “At least it’s not the sixth floor.” His pale skin looked ashen. He was nervous, I realized.
The elevator stopped on the second floor and a beautiful woman in a form-fitting black Fidei uniform stepped in. She swiped her card key, pressed the button for the sixth floor, and did a double take on Asher.
“Well, this is the last place I’d ever expect to see you.” She raised her eyebrow at the illuminated fourth floor button. “Oh, not here by choice.”
“Hello, Daria.” Asher drew the name out seductively, his rockstar sleek body curving toward her. “Always a pleasure to see you. I haven’t seen enough of you lately.”
The look he gave her was carnivorous. I had to stifle a groan.
The composed woman’s cheeks flushed. “You have my number.”
The elevator door pinged, announcing the fourth floor.
“Assuming you haven’t gotten your ass in a wringer…” Daria’s eyes roamed his body from toe to head. “I’ll expect to hear from you soon. Homicide Department means a lot of late nights, but I get Fridays off.”
A short burly handler, I assumed it was Jason, was strutting toward us in an all-black uniform—snug cargo pants, button-down with a Fidei seal on the left breast pocket.
“This way,” he said by way of greeting. Not much on small talk around here.
We were ushered, more like escorted by armed guards, into a large corner office. The expansive view from the window showed our bustling city in a multitude of greys, stretching the width of Elliot Bay. The office furnishings looked expensive but stark in a no-nonsense kind of way. Matching the vibe I got from the woman seated behind the desk. She wore a similar uniform—although hers boasted a row of three slanted brass bars on the collar.
“Jessica Larch.” She didn’t stand to greet us or motion for us to sit. “Special Agent in Charge.” There was no warmth in her intelligent brown eyes.
Jason moved next to her and assumed a military-style at-ease stance and puffed up like he was trying to be more intimidating. It didn’t last long, because Agent Larch soon snapped her fingers and Jason jumped like a dog and fetched a file from the table to hand to her.
Agent Larch opened the folder cover and flipped through a bunch of photographs, shaking her head in revulsion. She then took her time reading the case notes that I was certain she’d already read. Letting us stand in awkward silence, waiting for her to clue us in as to what the heck this was all about. I recognized this routine. Establishing dominance, keeping us off kilter. Randy, my ex-boss at Sanctum, used to do the same thing…and it worked. Even though I knew what she was doing and should be able to see through it I was starting to sweat.
Matt hadn’t looked at me once since we walked through the doors. Though his face was stone, devoid of emotion, I sensed his unease. Even Liv, who I’d expect to start mouthing off, held her tongue. This Larch woman made Randy look like an amateur.
I tried to distract myself with the mental puzzle of guessing Larch’s age, which proved tricky. She was a small, fit woman, all efficient muscle under that uniform. Crow’s feet bent the flesh near her eyes, but that could be sun damage from her active job as a field agent. From the ages of the grown kids in the family photos that were around her office she could be fifty. Yet there was nothing that said old about this woman. S
he was a dynamo with an agenda.
At last, she threw the file across her desk in disgust. “This is the type of problem I abhor the most.” The cold, righteous anger in her voice threw me. I’d been wrong; her dominance displays weren’t simply an act, like Randy’s had been. She seemed genuinely disturbed. By what?
“You know the Council Suprema is focused on bigger things. Increasing the Spelldrift’s sphere of influence. Global summits. Educational exchanges. All this draws the magical talent we need, but right now they can’t focus on menial tasks like guarding the Demongate.”
I hadn’t known any of that, but it sure explained a lot. But menial tasks? Before I could open my mouth to protest, Larch went on.
“Don’t get me wrong, you and I know how important that is. But the Council has other priorities. You need to be self-starters and police yourselves, God sakes.” She reigned in her tirade. “The Fidei have too much on our plates with the actions of members of dark factions and the demonic classes to have to worry about those who should know better screwing up. For chrissake, you’re supposed to be working with us. Not making more work for us.” She continued to unburden herself, making it clear we were the source of her current discomfort, until I could no longer take it.
“Excuse me, but what the hell is this even about?” Oops, more of an edge to my voice than I’d intended.
Matt sucked in a breath that told me he wished I’d kept my mouth shut like everyone else was doing. Jason tossed me a lethal glare as if he couldn’t believe I’d just disrespected his boss and would be allowed to live. The silence in the room was deafening.
Larch’s smart brown eyes landed on me. “You’re going to stand there and tell me you have no idea,” she said, “that you left two Nequam bodies lying around Caster’s Park for all to see? Are you telling me you’re that incompetent to not have noticed?”
Nequam bodies, how was that possible? A memory tickled the back of my mind but I told myself now wasn’t the time to relive the battle. I held my head high to let Larch know I wasn’t cowed by her.
I felt the heat of anger rolling off Matt. “We were properly etched,” he said firmly, but not strong enough to be a challenge.
“If you were properly etched,” Agent Larch hissed, “you wouldn’t be standing here now—”
Oh. My. God.
The green blast that hit my blade and erased the runes. The Neqs going down but not dusting. Greyish-green blood everywhere. Those Neqs must’ve crawled away to die.
We’re here because of me.
Before my brain could do something useful like spinning ways to get us out of this, Matt took charge.
“Last night was an anomaly,” he told her. “We were properly etched. But there was an insurgence of Nequam we haven’t seen the likes of in recent history. Our runes must have been exhausted.” He launched into a detailed guardian-like explanation of the number of kills you could squeeze out of a blade before it was time to re-etch the runes. Agent Larch looked like she wanted to break in, but Matt wouldn’t yield the floor. Matt’s voice was confident, but I could tell he was spinning this BS out of a need to protect us. Or was it that he wanted to protect me? “The integrity of the veil had been compromised—saving the city from a Nequam infestation that would have threatened the Wonts and taxed all magicborn resources. The witches acted quickly and decisively, making the necessary repairs immediately to ensure the problem was rectified. In the chaos, there was an oversight. And that oversight is on me. But it won’t happen again. The Coven of Fire is newly reformed. They’ve been performing admirably—despite its challenge of only have two coven witches—”
“We’re not the Witches’ Assembly. We don’t give a crap about your…unusual membership. As long as you get your job done and protect the Wonts, you could be a bunch of circus clowns working in unison for all we care.” Agent Larch pinpointed her fiery gaze on Matt. “Do your jobs. And stay off our radar.”
“We’re of like minds on this.” Matt nodded. “We’ll do our job. And do it well.”
“See that you do. Oh, and as long as you are officially sanctioned for operation in the field,” Larch added. “You should know we’ve had reports of an Omni shifter in the area.” Her words dripped with disdain. “Of course we have issued a level six warrant on it.”
I’d heard of Omni shifters before. They were the result of a genetic manipulation on natural born shifters. Rogue scientists engineered them in a lab. And unlike natural-born shifters, Omnis could morph into any number of creatures and mimic their mark’s magical signatures.
“Why, what has he or she done?” I asked, pointedly giving it a human pronoun.
She looked at me, confused, like there is no reason I should be asking the question. “It was born,” she said, flicking her hand to dismiss us. I didn’t need her to tell me twice. We all bolted for the door. But before we got out of the room she asked, “I’m assuming you’ve called the Council Suprema to report the new Caedis that was sighted?”
“It’s on our list,” Asher said, unable to keep the flippant tone out of his voice.
By the time we made it to the street, the small tremor that started in my core had radiated out to my limbs. I wanted to run to the car but fear was making me unsteady on my feet.
I had put our team in danger, and I hadn’t been responsible enough to admit it to myself, let alone them.
I needed a minute.
“My bootlace came undone.” I tossed the keys to Matt. “Meet you at the car.”
He looked like he wanted to say something, but I averted my gaze from his and bent to fake-tie my boot.
I wasn’t sure I could read all the threats that were between the lines in that conversation, but I knew Matt could. He put his butt on the line to protect our coven; I knew he’d risk any punishment to shield us. And it was all my fault. I should have reported the green light I’d seen, the way it had fried away the runes. Why the hell hadn’t I? Everything happened so fast…
But a niggling feeling in my belly said that wasn’t the whole story. It felt like a peach pit had lodged at the source of my magic. I forced myself to remember those terrifying moments of combat from last night. The moonless hilltop. Two Neqs shuffle-running toward me. I reached for my blade…
The green light had appeared to come from me.
How was that possible? I was no demon. But a Caedis had laid hands on me earlier that night. What if that green light was some sort of a residue from his touch that lingered? Of course it wasn’t the first time Caedis magic had affected me. The night we destroyed the evil tree, I’d hoovered some of Tenebris’s green magic, but Asher had cleared me afterwards. It couldn’t be that.
Demon magic coming out of me. The thought scared the crap out of me. Would it turn me evil, as had happened to poor Callie? Not a day went by I didn’t think about her. But I couldn’t help her if the same awful fate had befallen me. I scrutinized my soul the way I imagined Larch would. Cold and merciless like the purifying fire in her eyes. What if I was evil? Was there even the tiniest part of me that had wanted to go with the Caedis, join Aunt Jenn? Join the other side?
Hell to the no.
All I wanted was to kick demon ass, perfect my magic, and build up the wards. The pull for me to live up to my mother’s legacy burned bright inside of me. Screw the Fidei for all its cloak and dagger bullshit. This hyper-paranoid rhetoric had gotten me all twisted.
I imagined Matt’s hand on my arm in the car, and the thought steadied my nerves. Though not quite as much as the real Matt. As I waited for the calm to return to my shaking muscles I glanced up and saw a murder of crows on the power line across the street from the Fidei building. One lone crow hunched away from the group looking intently at the building. Suddenly the rest of the crows descended on it and started pecking. I was thinking nature was a really cruel mistress when the beleaguered crow took off and shifted, mid-flight, into an eagle. Its eyes glowed orange for a split second before settling to a pale yellow. The eagle spread its wings, scattering its a
ttackers. As it took off, swooping down toward me, it looked directly at me, sizing me up. Human intelligence in its eyes.
The Omni.
My heart beat faster. I knew what I should do. I should walk back inside and let them know. Redeem our coven in Larch’s eyes. Prove I’m on the side of law and order. Earn some brownie points.
But screw that.
The Fidei were self-righteous bullies, living by antiquated rules like the rest of the magicborn community. They wanted us to arrest this Omni simply for existing. I wouldn’t be a party to that.
I nodded at the odd bird, and it seemed to nod back at me. But instead of the buzz that accompanied a magicborn’s presence, I felt nothing. Nor could I smell any magical signature. Was that how Omnis masked themselves when they took on other forms?
The eagle took flight, heading north. I scurried back to my car.
Matt was behind the wheel with Liv in the co-pilot seat. Ordinarily I hated not driving, but right now the last thing I felt entitled to was more responsibility. I jumped in the backseat next to Asher.
“That was less than pleasant,” he quipped.
“They were just doing their job.” Matt swiveled in his seat, anger igniting under the surface. “Which is what we should be doing. I know I dusted all my kills.” He looked to each of us in turn. “So what the hell happened last night?”
“Hey, don’t look at me.” Asher shrugged. “All mine were burned with warlock magic. Guaranteed dust. None of the ‘expiration’ nonsense to worry about.”
“I killed a couple with my karambit,” Liv said, referring to the small curved boot knife most witches carry. “Because I had no other choice in the circumstance. But they dusted.”
I took a deep breath. Time to come clean. Tell them about the light. This was the moment to trust my crew. To rely on them for strength and to believe they would accept me, weird green light and all. “I…have no idea why this happened,” I began. And paused. My guts had turned to a swirling mass of noodles.
“Okay, well, we’re going to have to re-etch every blade.” Matt shook his head, clearly uncomfortable with not having an answer. “Take them down to scratch and put new runes on all of them.”