by Sierra Cross
“And who would be willing to do that for you?” Liv asked. Her face fell as she came up with the answer. “Daria.”
Matt threw up his hands, and Liv shrugged, but they didn’t try to stop him. I sure wasn’t going to stop him: I wanted to know what cards they were holding. How else could we know what we were up against?
Asher clacked away on his keyboard, messaging Daria through a secure channel he’d had set up.
Daria did not seem thrilled to have all of us come to her house, but she let us in. The Ballard bungalow was impeccably restored. Every corner perfectly mitered, paint cut-ins all in crisp lines. Its décor looked like it was straight out of House & Garden, but there was something so ordered and controlled about everything that kept it from being homey.
She led us to the kitchen where we sat at a mission oak table. I noticed a slim satin rope looped over the top bar of my chair. It did not look like a hair tie. If I were a betting woman, I’d say Daria was into bondage.
“You’re gonna owe me for this one, Asher.” Pulling a sleek laptop from her leather satchel, she turned a laser focus on our warlock. “And you know I will collect on this debt.”
“I always pay my debts.” Asher’s eyes twinkled.
Liv did a shoulder-roll-shudder.
Daria logged on to the Fidei system. Her fingers worked the keyboard, oblivious to all the eyes watching her. “I’m in.” A few more keystrokes. “They’re in the process of uploading security’s feed from Marley’s system. Wow.” She scrolled through a number of folders, looking surprised. “She had hidden cameras all over that property.”
“Well, we did say she was paranoid,” Liv said.
“But it’s not paranoid if they’re really after you, is it?” Asher asked.
A silence descended as I imagined we were all remembering the grisly scene.
Then Matt cleared his throat. “Everyone, what we’re about to see is probably going to be extremely disturbing.” I knew he was warning Asher more than anyone. In some strange way, Asher had loved Marley. That much was clear. Would he—would any of us—be able to watch her be murdered? Daria didn’t seem fazed. Maybe she’d seen a lot of graphic footage as part of her job, but it made me wonder what the hell they did on floor six.
“They’re uploading the footage in reverse chronological order,” Daria says. “That’s the most recent time signatures first.” She paused. “Looks like they’re having technical issues. They’re pulling down the footage as we speak. Sending it to be forensically enhanced.”
“Can you retrieve any of it before they take it down?” Asher asked.
“Don’t want to raise red flags so I can’t copy it,” she said, shaking her head. “Let’s see what we can view.” Her hands moved rapidly over the keyboard.
We all leaned in with some trepidation. I for one wanted to be as close as possible to my coven when we were faced with this horror.
Daria opened a few files simultaneously…and the monitor showed screen after screen of pastoral bliss. In one view, an acolyte tossed feed at the chickens. In another, several followers knelt to harvest purple kale from a winter garden bed. In a third, a young woman was beating rugs suspended from a clothesline in the side yard. The fourth and fifth screens showed acolytes cooking lunch and turning compost. In the bottom right view, Marley was walking through the foyer. Suddenly all the feeds shook like sloppy handheld cameras. Witches stumbled and fell forward as the earth moved beneath them. Several grabbed their ears as if they’d heard a deafening blast. Marley’s eyes went wide with terror and her hand flew to her pendent. A blaze of white flashed across every screen, and then nothing but static.
“What the hell?” Liv gave voice to the thought we were no doubt all sharing.
“Was that an earthquake?” Matt said.
“Something shut off all the cameras at once,” I said.
“My God that’s some powerful magic.” The blood had drained from Asher’s face. He kept staring at the six snowy feeds, as if trying to absorb the magnitude of what we were up against.
“That’s all there is.” Daria put her hand on the laptop to shut it.
“Wait,” I said, more on a hunch then an actual insight. “The one with Marley in it. It looked different than the rest.”
Daria tapped her finger impatiently. “We need to get out of this drive,” she said. “We’ve been in too long. It’s starting to look suspicious.”
“Just that clip, one more time,” I pleaded.
Looking reluctant, Daria played it again. This time, at Asher’s request, in slo-motion. This feed was indeed different from the rest. The screen went white before all the others. And the flash emanated from Marley’s necklace.
My heart was pounding as the pieces fell together. Bonaventura hadn’t been thin-skinned or pissed off at my attitude. He didn’t want me noticing the necklace Whatever was in that amulet was the key to the massacre at Marley’s compound. And for some reason the vampire didn’t want us to even think about it.
Daria’s screen went black. “That’s it. We’re boned. They’ve pulled all the vid.” She almost looked relieved.
I stood. I knew Asher trusted Daria, but the information I was about to share with them could put her in danger. “Thanks, Daria,” I said, pushing in my chair. “We need to be going.”
Daria looked at Asher, question on her face. “All of you?”
“Yes. All of us,” Liv said and headed for the door.
“All right, Alix,” Asher said as we all piled in the car. “You rudely rushed us out of there, what’s your big idea?”
“Or was their flirting making you gag too?” Liv asked mockingly.
I told them about Bonaventura and the amulet.
“That’s it,” Matt smacked his own forehead. “Now I remember where I’ve seen that style of chain before. We studied vampire relics back at the academy. We need to pay a visit to the vigilant Director.”
CHAPTER FIVE
T he buzz of my 6:00 a.m. alarm sent me stumbling like a zombie toward the kitchen. Its generic white walls and tiles assaulted my bleary eyes, but the scent of fresh coffee sang to my synapses. Thanks to the fire that destroyed my apartment, I’d lost my whole coffee-making system, including my Burr grinder, but surprisingly this rock-bottom priced Air B&B had a decent coffee maker. I poured myself a greedy mugful and—just for a second—ogled Matt, who leaned against the counter in sweats and a muscle tee. Eyes closed, meditating after his morning guardian exercises. His deep, deliberate breaths as soothing as the sound of ocean surf.
As had become habit, I shunned the four wooden kitchen chairs, all of which were either rickety, shredded, or both, and hopped up onto the table itself. Legs swinging freely down, I took a sip from my silver to-go cup and let myself return to admiring Matt’s sharp cheekbones, his angular jaw. My gaze lit on a faded scar that split his blunt eyebrow, and I felt a heat rise in my chest, an urge to sweep my fingers along his brow bone. Every subtle mark, every wound, made him all the more beautiful to me. But it also made him baffling, mysterious. He’d earned that scar, no doubt, in some battle that occurred while I was still a child. He was my peer now, but once he’d been my teacher. That he could keep his sanity as a man plucked out of his own time, a sole survivor of a massacre, was a testament to the powers of the guardian code of honor. And then there were his lips, full and sensitive and juicy…
Danger, warned a voice inside me. Don’t get too used to this view. To starting our day together. To him making me coffee.
All of this was temporary. As soon as we cashed a few more Sanctum paychecks, we’d have enough to pay for security deposits for separate apartments. My traitorous heart deflated at that thought.
As if he could sense my bittersweet turn, Matt suddenly opened his eyes. I averted mine.
“Morning.” He tossed me quizzical look. “Did you not get any sleep last night?”
“What do you mean? I slept fine.” I chugged some more liquid energy. Come to think of it, I did feel sleepier than us
ual this morning. What was up?
“Thin walls.” He pointed to the dingy, white wall pockmarked with nail holes. “You were thrashing so much it kept me awake.”
“Huh, that’s so weird.” I sure didn’t remember tossing and turning. “I didn’t even have any dreams last night.” Wait. That wasn’t quite true. A snippet of memory bobbed along the wavy surface of my consciousness: strong arms around me, a stingingly sweet kiss…but the shimmering dream-fragment swam away when I tried to zero in. Not that I needed more detail to guess that dream’s plot, yikes. I felt my cheeks flush and hoped he couldn’t see it.
“Hey, maybe you should go back to sleep for a bit.” Matt’s voice was suggestive, and for a paranoid moment, I wondered if he knew. That he’d heard me. Having a sexy dream. About him. “Get some rest, I can handle this errand without you.”
I snapped to attention. “Not a chance, guardian.” So that was his plan. To stop me from going along with him to have a chat with Director Bonaventura. His protective instincts were getting the best of him again. “I’ll be ready in ten.”
“Look, there’s no reason for you to have be present. All I’m going to do is ask him about the necklace. Which I can do alone.” Matt flashed a smile, but I wasn’t buying his nonchalant attitude at all. “Why don’t you go with Liv and Asher instead?” The two of them were going to take a ride out to Caster’s Park to make sure the wards on the Demongate were still holding. “To be honest, you’d probably be more help to them.”
Horse apples. Matt just didn’t want me around the vampires. He thought they were dangerous. Which they probably were, which meant, “I’m definitely going with you.”
His jaw hardened. “No, you’re not.”
“You’re my guardian.” Anger flashed, burning its way across my chest. “Not my father.”
His sharp exhale was almost a growl. Then he took a measured breath in and out. I could see him struggling inside, and would have given my next three paychecks to know the root of those protective emotions he was wrestling with. Was it just a typical guardian thing? Or was there more to it? I’d felt the heat between us, I knew he wanted me too. But did it blanket him like a second skin as it did me? Or, more likely, was it the loss of his guardian brothers and the last Coven of Fire—my mother’s coven—that made him overly vigilant about my safety?
“Ambrose already dislikes you,” he said, finally. “And vampires are unpredictable in the best of situations. They’re not just faster and stronger…a lot of them can use compulsion to make a person act against their will. Guardian rule of thumb is to avoid them when at all possible.” Matt was a smart guy, which meant he was good at making it sound like his case was based in logic and not on feelings. But I wasn’t fooled. He was still trying to protect me.
“Well if vampires are so scary,” I said mockingly, “then I better just let big strong you go alone while I stay here and anxiously await your return. Not!”
His gaze softened slightly. “Is it wrong that I don’t want you to take unnecessary risks?”
“No, but…” I faltered, trying to explain. “Matt, this is necessary. We have no other leads, no way to find out who’s setting us up and why. And you know that when we work together our chances of success shoot way up.”
“You’re right about that.” Matt still sounded like he was holding out, though. I waited for the “but.” “It’s just that vampires don’t have that much regard for warmbloods.”
“I get it, it’s dangerous.”
“I don’t think you do get it.” Matt’s face was fierce. “It’s not just one vampire we have to deal with, it’s at least three. He lives there with his two sons.”
“I hear you.” I put my hand on his well-muscled shoulder. Surely vampires had to follow magicborn law...but if Matt was leery, I should be terrified. Then again, what other option did we have? “Risky or not, that’s the job I signed on for. Just like you. It’s not a choice, it’s who we are.”
He nodded somberly, understanding on his face. He took the smallest step forward. My arm bent and I moved my hand down onto his chest. His eyes darkened and his breath caught. The pull of his body was as unavoidable as gravity. Deep inside me, the need for him ignited like a flash fire. His head tilted toward me imperceptibly and I was sure he was going to kiss me. I willed him to, but I wouldn’t kiss him first. Not this time. Now it was up to him. It had to be his decision to break this outdated vow of his, not mine.
His voice was husky. “Alexandra, if we’re going to do this…” My heart leapt with excitement. Till he stepped back, and my hand was only touching air. “You should be armed.” Right, he wasn’t talking about us, but about the vampire visit. “And I should re-etch your blades while I’m at it.”
Crap. Here it was, the moment I’d been simultaneously looking for and dreading. Time to rip that Band-Aid off and come clean about what happened to my blades. I trudged across the squeaky hardwood floor into the bedroom. Digging through the cheap duffle bag that served as my dresser, I hauled out my shoulder harness. Three runeless daggers were sheathed within it.
“Here.” I handed Matt the harness, surprised that my hands felt this cold and clammy with nerves. “So, I kind of need to tell you something.”
He sat at the spindly kitchen table and pulled out the blades. He looked at them. Then he stared at them. “Your runes haven’t faded, they’re completely gone.”
“I know. That’s what I was working up to telling you.”
“Why didn’t you speak up sooner?” Matt’s face tightened, accusation in his voice. “Like days ago, when I specifically asked about it.”
I bit my lip. I tried. But I knew for a guardian there was no try. There was do or fail. “I’m telling you now.”
“You still haven’t explained what happened.”
Damn it, he was right again. I searched for a way to begin. “You know how your guardian magic isn’t solely blue?” At the pained look on his face I instantly regretted taking this tact. But it was too late to take it back, so I kept lurching forward. “Lately, my magic...well.” Man, this was hard to admit. “Something’s wrong with my magic.” I took a deep breath and forced myself to continue. “That night when the Neq bodies didn’t dust? I touched my blades and a green blast surged out of my fingers. It erased the runes.”
Matt muttered a curse, threw his head back, and squeezed his eyes shut. Like he wished he could un-hear what I just said. Like he was running scenarios through his head. Calculations and probabilities I’d never know crossed his face, unspoken. He was calculating my fate. And whatever his conclusion, I realized, I’d accept it. I trusted him that much.
Abruptly he opened his eyes, his gaze probing me. “Did any part of you want to erase the runes?” His voice sharp, curt. “Spare the demons?”
“No. And NO,” I said emphatically. “I wanted to kick demon ass. That was all I was thinking about.”
Matt breathed out a sigh, but there was no relief in it. “Well, that’s a start.” For the next ten minutes he continued to grill me on my state of mind. How I felt. Was I missing time? Did I want to turn on the coven? He nodded at all my answers, but by the time he ran out of questions he looked shaken. Disconnected from the moment in a way I’d never seen before. His voice eerily monotone. “We should keep this to ourselves, Alexandra.”
I looked at my hands and nodded, expecting relief to flood me. But the strange thing was I didn’t feel a bit better. Matt trusted me enough to keep me in the field, but his insisting we keep it to ourselves made it feel dirty. Were Matt and I hiding something shameful? The small lump in my solar plexus throbbed.
And now we had one more coven secret. One more complication threatening to rip our little makeshift family apart.
Spanning a short stretch of Lake Washington Boulevard, the posh neighborhood of Madison Park offered one sprawling mansion after another—each with sweeping views of the lake, which was choppy and deep blue today. Manicured lawns stretched out behind ornate security fences, and as we drove past
each I wondered what kind of people lived there. Tech millionaires? The trust-funded? Eccentric artist types?
Set off farthest from the street, one gorgeously landscaped property loomed grander than all the rest. It was, of course, the residence of Director Ambrose Bonaventura.
Back home, Matt had explained that we’d have to check in at a security gate and in the same breath insisted he be the one driving. He didn’t come out and say it, but I knew he wanted to give Bonaventura the idea he had me in check. That made me want to kick the Director’s ass even more.
Want being the key word. If Matt felt he couldn’t win against a vampire, there was no way I had a chance…at least not with physical combat. Suddenly it struck me that everything Matt had told me about vampires was from a guardian’s perspective. What if, as a witch, I could bring protection spells into the mix? Would spellbeads or incantations work on vampires? Too late to find out now, since Matt was pulling up to the security gate.
“Put on your game face,” he murmured, and rolled his window down.
“State your business,” intoned a cold male voice from the security panel in front of the looming wrought iron gate.
“We’re here to see Director Bonaventura.” Matt was equally cold and dispassionate. “Representatives of the Swords of Light Brotherhood and the Coven of Fire.”
The briefest pause. “Do you have an appointment?”
“He’ll want to see us.” I shouldn’t have been surprised at the confidence Matt was able to project. Confidence I knew he didn’t truly feel. “It’s concerning information in an open investigation.”
There was a click as the security guard severed the connection. We waited silently for what felt like hours but was, according to the car’s clock, only about a minute. The voice came back on, sounding downright hostile. “The Director said not only does he not want to see you, but that you’re blatantly disregarding a direct order. Leave now or he’ll have you arrested.”