by Elisa Adams
“A human, Royce? In the middle of this? Are you nuts?” Wil flopped down on the couch next to him and rested his elbows on his thighs.
Royce laughed at Wil’s assumption. “She isn’t human. She’s Panthicenos, and she knows what she’s doing. She’s been doing this kind of stuff longer than I’ve been alive.”
Wil sat back and whistled long and low. “Panthicenos, huh? A little thing like that? I never would have guessed. She doesn’t like you very much, though, does she?”
“Not at the moment.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Give me time. I’ll get back in her good graces again.”
Wil leaned back against the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. “What did you do, sleep with her and leave her?”
He wished. “No. Actually, it was the other way around.”
“You’re kidding me.”
Royce kicked at a loose leg on the coffee table, wanting somehow to get the cat out of his mind. “I wish. I don’t want to talk about Merida now, okay? I just want to forget, at least for the night, that she’s here.”
“I don’t know how you could.”
Royce glanced up at Wil’s appreciative tone, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “Keep your hands off her.”
“Wouldn’t dream of laying even one finger on her, buddy.” A slow, knowing smile spread over Wil’s face. “Not if she’s yours. But if the two of you aren’t involved, it seems to me like she’d be fair game.”
Somehow, he didn’t think Merida would appreciate being referred to as game. But he’d let Wil find that one out on his own. “Hands to yourself, Brogan, okay?”
“Sure. I wouldn’t touch what belongs to someone else. You know me better than that.”
Yeah. That’s exactly what Royce was afraid of.
Chapter Five
Sunlight streaming through the parted curtains woke Merida early the next morning. She dragged herself out of bed, grabbed some clothes, and walked to the bathroom for a quick shower. She passed two closed doors on her way, presumably the day sleepers already at rest. She breathed a sigh of relief that she wouldn’t have to deal with their irritating egos until after the sun went down. She had the day to herself. And she’d need the time to think. Being back in New England brought unwanted memories to the forefront of her mind.
Once showered and dressed in jeans and a cropped black t-shirt, she pulled her still-damp hair back into a loose ponytail. She put on her shoes and went outside, sitting on a bench in the corner of the wraparound porch. The quiet solitude of the morning comforted her. A light breeze rustled in the branches of the trees surrounding the house. She squinted into the sun-filled yard as a cat ran across the grass. The animal most likely had nothing better to do all day than chase mice and nap. Must be nice to have such a simple life.
Her palms itched and she wriggled her fingers. The longer she sat, the more she wished she had someone to talk to. Anyone. But there wasn’t anyone in her life she could trust with her secrets. Living a solitary life, at least emotionally, magic had become her only outlet. Since early childhood, when she’d learned what she was truly capable of, it had been the one thing to keep her grounded when things got crazy—as they so often did these days.
She crossed her legs on the worn wooden bench and rested her hands on her knees, palms up. Her eyelids dropped closed and she focused all her concentration on summoning the ropes Sam had tried to teach her—something that had been giving her trouble for over a year. Each time she got close to getting the ropes to do what she wanted, they fizzled into blue smoke in the air and she had to start again.
She drew in a deep breath, and another, feeling the familiar tingling start at the base of her fingers. Yes! Finally. She’d been killing herself to get it right, bending her mind with practice until she couldn’t even think straight, and now all her hard work had started to pay off. She could almost feel the thin threads of energy lifting from her palms, spiraling out into the air around her. Maybe next time she’d even be able to open her eyes. Right now, she wouldn’t chance it, or anything else that might break her concentration. Like moving. Or breathing.
A twig snapping in the distance broke her concentration. The tiny threads of what would have been psychic ropes snapped free from the anchors of her fingertips and flew away. She opened her eyes just in time to see them zinging through the air like little balloons that hadn’t been tied. One hit the window and fizzled out. The other struck the gray clapboard siding, leaving a tiny burn mark as it disappeared. Damn it! So close…but still not good enough.
She’d never be like Sam. Why he thought she could even compare to his abilities was beyond her. Of course, he had a few hundred years more practice on his side—and a lot more patience than she’d ever have. She could accept her shortcomings, and a lack of patience happened to be a major one. It made her good at her job, but it also made her a major bitch when things didn’t go her way.
She banged her fists on her legs and fought the urge to scream. She’d never get used to actually having to work for anything—at least not anything magical. She had a natural ability toward it, and the ropes should have been no exception. It tormented her to know she couldn’t get one simple thing right, even after huge amounts of practice. Maybe she had some kind of mental block against the ropes. She wouldn’t be surprised, considering she’d been working on conjuring them when Sam had dumped his news on her.
Her mind drifted back to the previous summer, when everything in her life had gone wrong. It hadn’t been long after the demon Aiala had tried to kill her brother and Ellie. Not long after her visit to the town where Eric had been staying, and her…mishap with the vampire. She’d been sitting on her bed at the time, practicing the rope trick Sam tried to teach her—with the same results. Back then, her failures had been worse. The first time she’d let the ropes loose into the air, she’d charred her bedroom curtains. The second time, she’d had to buy a new mattress.
“Give it time. It’ll come to you.”
She’d snapped her eyes open at the sound of the familiar voice. Sam had stood in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest and his usual serious expression plastered on a face that would have been handsome if it wasn’t so downright scary. She was used to seeing him that way—permanent scowl, jagged scars, and all—so it didn’t bother her. But she understood why humans wouldn’t want to run into the guy alone at night.
“No, obviously it won’t. I’ve been trying and trying—”
“For three weeks.” He’d walked into the room and rested a foot on her mattress, leaning his forearms on his leg. “The ropes are tough, Rida. Very tough. I’ve explained it all to you before. It’s going to take a while to learn it. The most important thing to do is to keep trying. Don’t give up.”
“I’ve never had to work this hard for anything in my life. Practice? I don’t usually have to do that. I should be able to think of the ropes, and have them appear.”
He’d laughed—a rarity for him. It did nothing to lighten his brooding expression. “That would be like trying to take a calculus exam without even opening the book. Not everything in life comes easily. Some things are worth the extra work. You have to learn that someday. Up until now, you’ve had things way to easy. Things are going to change. There are going to be spells a lot harder than psychic ropes, cases a lot harder than minor demons. If you give up now, you’ll never reach your full potential.”
Icy fingers of suspicion had walked down her spine. She hadn’t considered Aiala a minor demon. “My full potential? Is this some kind of a test?” She’d rolled her eyes at his silence. “Why are you pulling this shit, giving me spells you know I’m not ready for?”
“You’re beyond ready. Ready, in this instance, doesn’t mean able. What do you really get out of life if everything comes easily? You’ve become too complacent with the world as you know it. You can accomplish great things, but you have to apply yourself. Do you realize most Panthicenos can’t even manage half the magic you can?”
She frowned. “I
thought it was natural to us all.”
“You’ve been around enough of us to know that isn’t true. Have you spent much time with your brother lately?” Sam shook his head slowly from side to side. “There are few with your potential, Rida. Less than two percent of us are capable as you are. Do you understand what that means?”
She blinked at him, not sure at all of what he was trying to tell her. “I don’t think so. Maybe if you stopped talking in riddles, I could follow you.”
“You’re destined to be a Balance Keeper. As soon as you finish your education and learn the rest of the magic you’ll need to carry out the job.”
“A Balance Keeper?” She shook her head, sure she’d heard him wrong. “You can’t be serious.”
“Why do you think I’ve let you work for me for this long, when you constantly disregard orders? When you put yourself in unnecessary danger and nearly get others killed on certain occasions?”
She knew what occasion he spoke of—the one when she and Ellie, along with Ellie’s vampire friend, had tried to vanquish a very powerful demon. It hadn’t gone as planned, but at least they’d gotten rid of the demon threatening Eric and Ellie. “I don’t know. Tell me why you seem to feel compelled to keep me around.”
“You are to be groomed to accept a position as a Balance Keeper, only when the time is right.”
“I’ve been around for almost a thousand years. Don’t you think you should have told me sooner?”
“No. You weren’t ready. I’m not supposed to tell you now. But, with everything that’s happened lately, I thought you needed to know.”
Her heart had sunk to her stomach, her throat narrowed. “How long have you known?”
“For longer than I’ve known you. Things have a funny way of working out, don’t they?”
The pieces of an ancient puzzle began to slide together in her mind. Sam had taken in Merida and her older brother Eric when, a thousand years ago, their mother had been killed. They’d been children, barely two and twelve years old, and had nowhere else to go. For all these years, she’d thought it had been because of Eric and a friendship he’d formed with Sam’s son. “Is that why you raised Eric and me? Was it because of what I’m supposed to be?”
He confirmed her suspicions with a nod of his head. “Yes. I was named to protect you and start your education when the time was right.”
“What about Eric? Why did you accept him as well?”
“I had no choice.” Sam turned away and walked toward the door. “I couldn’t leave him alone. You needed each other. I’d love to talk with you more about the subject, but it will have to wait until later. I have some things to do.”
In typical Sam fashion, he had walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, leaving her alone to think about the huge bomb he’d just dropped on her.
A dog barking in the distance brought her back to the present. She leaned her head back against the rough surface of the bench and blew out a breath. That had been the last conversation she’d had with Sam, a man who’d become like a father to her in the years since he’d taken her in. Her opinion of him had shifted, along with her supposed destiny. No longer did she see him as a man she could trust with her life, because he’d taken away life as she knew it. She’d left that day, fled to Florida to get away from a destiny she didn’t want.
She knew what a Balance Keeper did. They spent their entire lives wandering the world, going from one place to another, destroying the greatest evils the planet had ever known. Neither good nor malevolence could ever be allowed to grow stronger than the other, because power could taint even goodness and turn it into something twisted and ugly.
Balance Keeper? Not hardly. She was just a woman who enjoyed playing with magic. She wouldn’t give up herself to make sure the rest of the world stayed safe. If humans felt the need to act like idiots and invite evil demons into their presence, then she wouldn’t try to stop the morons from being eaten alive. Not that most species of demon were interested in actually eating humans. They weren’t. Some preferred souls, or blood like vampires did, but human flesh? She wrinkled her nose. Disgusting.
Being a demon herself, she could attest to the fact that they weren’t all hideous beasts. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a normal, very human-like woman.
Most of the time.
And the times when she looked like a giant cat with glowing eyes and sharp teeth and a scaly spine…well, she wasn’t that scary. And she wasn’t really all that big, either, as far as Panthicenos went. She most certainly had no interest in taking her teeth to humans. Not unless they pissed her off. She would never actually eat anyone, but she got a huge kick out of threatening big, burly men who thought they were so tough until they caught a glimpse of her incisors.
She lifted her hand into the air, sending a flash of blue light toward the porch roof with a flick of her wrist. It bounced off the wood before evaporating in a puff of white smoke. A chunk of a roof board splintered and hurtled down toward her. A flick of her wrist and it vanished into the air, leaving only a puff of thick, black smoke.
What she’d normally consider a stupid cat trick now served to get her even more frustrated. She got everything else Sam had taught without more than a few minutes of practice. She’d mastered fire, lightning, electricity, even a little wind and rain on good days. She’d been moving objects with her mind since she’d hit five years of age and could read thoughts if she tried hard enough.
Why not the goddamned ropes?
She wiggled her fingers against the armrest, watching as her nails grew longer and thinner and razor-sharp—a mix of human-like fingernails and her Panthicenos claws—a trick that worked wonders for scaring the life out of a temperamental quarry. She loved her job. Hunting down criminals and killers, both human and not, gave her a rush. She thrived on the adrenaline. But the magic itself had become her passion.
Now, everything had changed. Her passion had become her responsibility, her fate. She didn’t know if she liked the sound of that. But at this point, she didn’t see that she had much choice. A pang of guilt shot through her stomach as she thought about Sam. She hadn’t talked to him since the previous summer. She didn’t care to accept a life as a Balance Keeper, but she missed her family. She’d been strong not to call in all the time she’d been away, but homesickness made her weak. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and dialed Sam’s number.
“Hi, Sam,” she greeted when he answered.
“How’s Florida?” came his terse reply. She knew he was angry, and that she’d disappointed him, but he hadn’t left her much choice. He’d brought it upon himself when he’d tried to force her into a service she refused to do.
“I’m in Vermont now, actually.”
“So you did meet up with Royce, then?”
She heaved a sigh. How would he know about Royce contacting her? Eric. She’d called him to let him know where she’d be. He must have called Sam. “Yes. I did.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.” The coldness in his tone hit her like a smack in the face. He’d never spoken to her that way before—like an object of disdain instead of the woman he’d raised like a daughter.
“What makes you think I would?”
“You don’t have a very good track record with those things.”
A tear welled in the corner of her eye. She swiped it away, having no time for foolishness, especially not when Sam would know. She’d lose any credibility she had left. “Don’t start. I’m here to work, and I always do my job.”
“I suppose you do.” Sam hesitated, and she knew he wanted to ask her how she was doing, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t either. He’d made his utter disappointment in her quite clear the night she’d quit her job and walked away from her old life. “Tell me. What are you working on?”
She drew a deep, shuddering breath before she answered. “A double murder, as far as I know. I don’t have many details yet. I plan to go to into town today and ask around about it.”
“Just make su
re you’re subtle. In a small town like that, you don’t want to get people suspicious.”
“I can handle it myself.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted snapping at him. But she refused to take the words back. He’d raised her to have pride—and she couldn’t let it go.
The tenderness in his reply surprised her. “I know you can. Believe me. I know.”
“How are you doing?” she blurted, her heart aching to be back home.
“Your brother misses you.”
She closed her eyes, knowing he meant he missed her as well. “I miss you, too,” she mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear.
“I know you no longer wish to work for me, but you know you can call me if you need any help, right?”
She resisted the urge to tell him she wouldn’t do anything of the sort. As much as she valued him, she needed to do this on her own. From now on, she needed to do things her way and not rely on someone who might turn on her years down the road. “Of course.”
“Keep in touch, okay? Don’t wait another year before you call and let me know how you’re doing. Oh, and Merida?”
“Yes?”
She heard Sam’s sigh before he continued. “Be careful up there, alone with those two vampires. I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”
“Always.” She disconnected the call, feeling worse than she had before she’d picked up the phone. Why had she felt the need to call him? And why had he warned her to be careful, when he knew damned well she was perfectly capable of caring for herself?
She went back inside and, seeing Royce’s car keys on the counter, thought of an idea. In need of breakfast and sure the vampire’s cabinets were bare, she lifted the keys off the counter and walked back out the door. He wouldn’t mind if she borrowed his car, right? It would only be for a little while, and he’d probably sleep right through the whole thing.
She drove down the winding, twisting dirt roads back toward the center of town they’d driven through the night before. She remembered seeing a little coffee shop on the corner—probably a good place for breakfast and information. She walked into the busy restaurant and grabbed one of the handful of empty tables, a small round one in the corner near the window.