The Garrison (The Circle Series Book 3)

by Naomi L Scudder

  Xan hired artists. True creatives to decorate and assemble her magical creations. Xan created the spells to make the desserts, cakes, and pastries, and her employees had free reign over the styling and presentation.

  It was only a few hours before Xan finished her list for the day and left her most trusted artists to assemble and pack the days work.

  Then, she was off to revisit her parents. Xan had enough extra juice from yesterday’s visit that she shimmered right into the Receiving Room.

  “Xandrie!” her mother squealed in a tone Xan was unaccustomed to hearing come from the elegant woman’s lips. “What a surprise! To what do we owe a second visit in as many days?” Hadassah snapped her fingers and the attendants transformed the Receiving Room into the Hearing Room. Or maybe they’d shimmered everyone from one room to the other. Xan wasn’t sure.

  In moments they had a celebration meal laid out before the King, Queen, and Princess Kovak, and Xan’s mother starting in on taking the crown again.

  “The Unseelie Court is adamant about the union happening, my dear.”

  “Guess it’s too bad I already renounced the crown then, huh?”

  Xan’s mother and father shared a look.

  “What? What’s that? What’s that look about?”

  Hadassah leaned forward. “This time, they aren’t budging. You’ve renounced five times, that’s fifty years they’ve been waiting for you to, in their words, ‘set your duties before your whim’. And might I remind you, they don’t necessarily need you to be crowned in order for the union to take place.”

  Xan looked down at her plate of melons and crudités.

  Radburn reached across the table, taking his daughter’s hand. “Do you think you could agree to meet him?”

  “Daddy! I can’t believe you’d even ask me that!” Xan snatched her hand from her father who looked hurt as much by her words as by her action.

  “Xan, this is hard for all of us,” her father said softly.

  Xandrie looked down at her plate again.

  “Just meet him. Just a few hours with the Unseelie Prince. For me, please. What’s the harm in that, darling?” Radburn’s dark eyes shone with tears. “It’s terribly important.”

  Xandrie couldn’t stand seeing her father hurt, especially when she’d caused it. “Fine. I’ll meet him. But don’t expect anything else. It’s only a meeting.”

  The mood in the Hearing Room lightened at Xan’s concession. Her mother and father both nodded, tentative smiles across their faces.

  “Tell the Unseelie Court that’s all it is. A meeting. Not an arrangement, not a secret marriage, in no way am I agreeing to anything but meeting the Prince. Understood?”

  The King and Queen beamed at their daughter. She knew the ways of the dark fae well.

  “Absolutely, dear,” her mother said. “Any other messages you’d like to relay to the Dark Court?”

  Xan looked at her mother and father a long time before answering. “Is there anything else I should relay to them?”

  Her mother let out a peal of laughter so bright and beautiful it made everyone in the room smile along with her. “Tell them to only send the Prince. No attendance, no cadre. The dark ones aren’t above bride-napping.”

  Xandrie’s fork dropped. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Not in the least,” her father said. “And I’m glad you remembered your court training.” Her father smiled at her.

  Court training, like etiquette training for southern debutantes, except for the fae it was less about manners and more about learning the art of “between the lines” communication. It was a chore Xan hated while growing up, her tutor was dry and boring, and she’d been certain she’d never need to use the archaic custom.

  Xan hated it but she still learned it. What’s more, she retained it.

  Which was good, because she really did need it. Especially when dealing with the dark fae of the Unseelie Court.

  Her mother summoned more dishes and in moments braised vegetables, nut butters, and fresh rolls were laid before them, the first course disappearing to where ever dirty dishes in the sidhe go.

  “Thank you,” Xan said to the attendant serving her.

  “Well, now that’s out of the way, why don’t you tell us who to thank for two visits in a row?”

  Xandrie laughed, “Actually, mom, you can thank the wolves.”

  Hadassah looked at her husband, then back to her daughter. “I’m sorry dear, I’m not following.”

  Instead of telling the King and Queen of the Seelie Court about her involvement with Droshin and the subsequent fallout with The Garrison, Xan simply asked questions.

  “What do you know about wolf society?”

  Her father, a history buff in his leisure time, sat back in his chair, broad finger lacing themselves over his middle. “Quite a bit, Xan. Where should I start?”

  Xan narrowed her father’s focus. She didn’t need the entire history of wolf folklore. She just needed a starting point. “The pack in The Circle are out of control. Zora’s had to ban them from the bar because they can’t keep the fighting to a minimum. We’re just looking for a way to get the situation under control.”

  “Well, I can tell you this. Fae have no real power over wolves. You’d be able to best a single wolf, but not if their pack stood behind them. Your gypsy friend wouldn’t fair much better, as far as I’m aware. You’d best steer clear of pack issues. The wolves will resolve it on their own.”

  “I’d like to, but it’s not a situation that can be ignored any longer. Please, whatever you can tell me could help.”

  Her father sighed, leaning back in his chair even more.

  Xan liked to think that if their lives were different, and her parents could have chosen their paths in life, her father would have been a history tutor. “Wolf shifters are closer to their wild counterparts then anyone considers. The pack dynamic is violent and brutal, in most cases even more so than what’s found in the wild. Their female members are kept subservient, and only valued for how many pups they can whelp.” Radburn scratched at his blue-black beard. “But that’s all on a case by case basis. It truly depends on the Alpha in charge. If the Alpha is strong enough to demand different behavior, the pack will act accordingly.”

  Her mother nodded, adding a closing thought to her husband’s information. “It sounds like you have a particularly violent leader in the pack.”

  That wasn’t what Xan wanted to hear.

  The last she heard, Jake was the Alpha of the pack.

  9

  Jane

  Jane was wired. All the coffee from earlier made it impossible for her to take her own advice and get some sleep. And the only solution for that was more caffeine.

  “Come on, Jake. Pick up!” Jane paced the length of the great room oh Theron’s mansion as the electronic ring clicked over to voice mail. “Jake, it’s Jane. I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. Call me back as soon as you can.” Jane ended the call, and in a very un-Jane move sent him a text as well. She’d never left a text AND a message at the same time. Ever.

  “He’ll call back when he can, I’m sure of it, Janey,” Theron said from the chaise he sprawled across. “Don’t worry so much about it.”

  “Theron, I haven’t seen him in months, his pack is out of control, and The Garrison wants me, Zora, Xan to fix it. I’ve every right to worry about it.”

  But Jane wouldn’t let herself get worked up about it, despite the caffeine fueling the anxiety in her gut. Instead, she asked Theron what he knew about the situation.

  “Janey,” the vampire visibly tried to keep from laughing. “I haven’t paid attention to such trivial things since I was your age.”

  Jane folded her arms and continued pacing.

  If Theron couldn’t help her with the wolf problem, maybe her vamp could help her with the other problem.

  “If I wanted to get to the hell realm, how would I do that?”

  Theron looked up from his book, interest piqued. “You’d need a conduit a
nd guide. You’d have to summon a demon willing to do both.”

  Jane nodded. “And how would I go about summoning a demon?”

  Theron put down his book, giving the witch all his attention. “What is this about?”

  Jane sighed and sat next to the vamp. “Turns out I need an exorcism. Apparently, the demon siphons energy from me no matter how much I feed her. I’ve gotta get her out before she does any more damage.”

  “You mean you didn’t already know that?”

  “No! Did you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Theron! You didn’t think to tell me?”

  “Janey, I’m sorry, I assumed you knew. I thought you liked having access to her magic and strength. I thought you kept her on purpose.”

  “I didn’t.” Jane checked the metaphysical wall separating her from the demon she housed. The last thing Jane wanted was the demon knowing what she was planning. The spellwork held strong. Jane was certain the demon no longer had access to her thoughts.

  That had stopped the moment they got back from killing Droshin. The demon had done her part and helped get the girls out. She’d even healed Jane of all the broken bones battling Droshin left her. But after that Jane wanted nothing to do with her. She only used the demon to help end the man who put it in her. Now, she couldn’t stand the thought of having her that closely linked to her mind again.

  She needed her out, now more than ever.

  “Alright. So I need to summon a demon. Do you know of any that might be willing to help me? I doubt just any old demon will do.”

  “As a matter of fact, I may.”

  Theron didn’t go into many details about the demon who had escaped forced servitude and would, therefore, be open to helping Jane. And Jane didn’t care about the details.

  She grabbed the book in Theron’s collection she’d been eyeing most of the day and found the summoning spell she needed.

  “It doesn’t look that complicated,” Jane said as she flipped through the three pages of instructions. “It does require a huge amount of energy though. Possibly more than I have,” she said absently.

  Jane gathered the ingredients she needed for the spell and set about drawing a demon snare in the middle of Theron’s floor.

  “That better come out, love.”

  “It’s chalk, you ass,” Jane finished the last line of the trap that would keep the demon within the circle she’d created, and pronounced herself done. “I think that’ll hold.”

  Theron got off the chaise to appraise her work. “Looks fine,” he said, comparing it to the image in the book. Then he whistled. “Janey, you don’t have enough energy to pull him realm to realm. You’ll need to pull some from the demon.”

  “Absolutely not,” Jane said. “I won’t have her knowing anything about what I’m doing. I can’t risk it. I’ll be fine if I don’t push it.”

  “Jane, overextending your magic isn’t something I can heal like a bite or some broken bits. You’ll have to recover the old fashion way.”

  Jane nodded. She had a feeling that would be the case. “Back up, in case I can’t actually hold him.”

  Theron obliged and Jane closed her eyes.

  She focused on the spell, the words, the power they held and channeled it through her being.

  Because the only way to summon a demon from one realm to another was to pull it through your own body.

  Jane recited the spell in demon-tongue.

  And with the last word the circle Jane drew burst into blue flames and Jane’s insides felt as though they were ripped from her.

  And then it was over. A strange looking creature with fox-like ears and a floofy tail stood in the center of Theron’s great room, encircled by blue flames.

  “I’m never going to get the sulfur smell out,” mumbled Theron.

  The demon’s eyes fixed on Jane. “You called me, little witch?”

  Jane was lightheaded with exertion but she pulled herself together. “Yes. I understand you might be willing to help me get to the hell realm and plead my case.”

  Eyes narrowed and sniffing the air, the demon licked his lips. “I may, for a fair price. What is it you’re offering me?”

  Jane looked at Theron. She hadn’t thought of that. Theron hadn’t mentioned a price.

  “Don’t look at him, witch. Do your bargaining for yourself,” the demon snarled, snapping his fingers to get Jane’s attention.

  Jane fell back on her roots, not bothered by his crude gesture or tone. “I’m not sure what would appeal to such a fine demon as yourself, sir. I was only looking to my older, wiser vampire friend so as to not offend.” She laid the butter on thick, hoping demons, like humans, liked having their egos stroked.

  “I thought I smelled rotting flesh,” the demon said. “Step into the light where I can see you, dead one.”

  Theron did and the demon jumped at the metaphysical border of the circle. It crackled and bounced him off, sending the peculiar demon flying backward on his tailed rump.

  “You DARE show your face to me, Theron? After what you did to me. Let me out of this cage, witch! Now!”

  “What’s going on?”

  “This vampire is the reason I was enslaved! You murderous corpse. Let me out and I’ll have you in so many pieces, your witch won’t know which goes where.”

  To Jane’s astonishment, Theron laughed at the demon. “You’ve no power here, demon. Help my friend or be on your way.”

  The demon threw himself against the barrier once more, again falling on his ass, this time his skin sizzled and smoked. The demon rose and looked Jane right in the eyes. “You think I’m the monster here? There’s the real monster,” he pointed to Theron, snapped his fingers, and disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  Jane collapsed on the ground.

  The energy to pull a demon through realms was much more than she’d considered. It took more than she had to give.

  “You’re an asshole, Theron,” she said as the vampire picked her up and laid her on the chaise. “You should have told me you knew him. You should have told me he hated you. Now, what am I going to do?”

  “Rest, Janey. You’ll feel better once you’ve rested.”

  10

  Zora

  Zora had taken Jane’s advice. She bled her extra energy and gotten a great nights sleep, probably because of it. The next day she still felt really good. She hadn’t exploded anything at the bar the night before, and she’d even woken early. Easier since she hadn’t once dreamed of Amari dying in front of her.

  As she got ready to head to The Laughing Cat, her phone rang. It was her editor in New York, Elle.

  “Hi, Elle. What’s going on?”

  “Zora, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I don’t get the game you’re playing at here,” Elle sounded exhausted, Manhattan accent thicker than usual.

  “What do you mean? I’m not playing any game.”

  “You sent me a hard copy of the manuscript but no electronic one. I figured you’d forgotten and I knew you were going through a lot, so I gave you some time. But you know I can’t format and layout a book from a hard copy. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  Zora didn’t bother going into the details about why she hadn’t sent an electronic copy. She was certain Elle didn’t care one bit about how many times Gunnar stole her manuscript, or how hard she’d worked to get her that typewriter copy. “No problem. I’ll have it to you ASAP.”

  “You better. You’re on thin ice. The partners are talking about buying out your contract.”

  And with that Elle ended the conversation.

  “Buying out my contract? What does that mean?” Zora asked herself. “Whatever, I’ll just retype the manuscript and get it to her as soon as I can.”

  Zora dug out the only other copy in existence, opened her laptop and happily started clacking away at her keyboard.

  It didn’t occur to her that yesterday the same call from Elle would have put her over the edge and she probably would have blown up most of the dishes
in her condo. It also didn’t occur to her the reason she was taking everything in stride was that she wasn’t carrying around months worth of extra mojo.

  It didn’t occur to her because she just felt normal. Like herself. The way she should.

  11

  Xandrie

  Xan agreed to meet Casimir Ellis, the dark fae, and Unseelie Prince on one condition — that it was on her turf. In her bakery to be specific. Home field advantage was the best kind of advantage. Witches said the more intimately you knew the magical texture of the surrounding ether, the better you could wield it. Fae weren’t prone to such things as their magic came directly from the sidhe, but being in a familiar space was still comforting for Xan.

  She’d made sure she finished the prep for the day, and that she and Casimir met during the busiest time for the storefront. The more witnesses the better.

  Xan’s storefront didn’t have tables or chairs, it was simply a place-your-order-and-leave, takeout bakery. No reason for The Prince to get too comfortable.

  She paced in the backroom, waiting for the man she’d been dodging for half a century to walk through the door.

  “Xan!” Jenny, her favorite cashier, poked her head into the room. Eyes glazed and slightly flushed she said, “Some super hot guy is here to see you.”

  Great, that’s just what I need. No doubt he’s used his charms on poor Jenny, who’s now completely in love with him.

  “Thanks, I’ll be out in a minute.” Xan grabbed the dirtiest apron from the laundry service bin, messed up her hair, untucked half her shirt and went out to meet the Prince of the dark fae.

  Xandrie stumbled as she laid eyes on him, but caught herself with fae fluidity. He was absolutely mesmerizing. Dark hair, and eyes, sparkling smile, broad build, and a single dimple on his right cheek. Xan could see herself kissing that cheek.

  Stop it! Don’t let his glamor fool you. He’s probably a troll with pointy teeth and a pig’s snout under all that magic. Keep it together.

  “Xandrine, it’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.” Casimir extended his forearm, a traditional fae greeting.