“We?” She laughed. “You demons despise the hell out of dark breeds because we’re part human. Now you want to make us your lap dogs?”
“Selene—”
“You’re part of Kryto’s inner circle, take your concerns to him,” Selene remarked and jerked out of his hold. “I’m not getting involved in this because when you fail and Kryto gets wind, my ass is going to be left swinging in the wind.”
“Don’t let us down,” he said coldly. “Assign one of your people or do the job yourself, but I want that girl brought to me alive.”
“Then you do the job,” she snarled. “But I’m not putting my neck in a noose. I’ll be caught between a pissed off aurai and Kryto. I pass on both.” She stalked to her car, knowing if she didn’t get out of the city tonight, she’d have no choice but to retrieve the girl for him or fight to the death.
****
When Tylor arrived home, there was a car waiting in her driveway. She pulled into the garage and cut the engine as the door rolled down. Tylor climbed out and headed inside, knowing her visitor would be waiting on the porch for her.
This was the last thing she wanted after an almost romantic evening. She strolled down the gray corridor to the foyer where she pulled open the front door to Amara Holt. Her blue eyes were edged with tiredness and her dyed blonde hair was arranged over her shoulders in waves.
“Hello Amara,” she said coolly and motioned her in. “What do you want?”
“Is that any way to speaker to your elder?” the other woman asked arching a brow at her.
She fought the urge to roll her eyes as she bit back the acidic retort. “Tell me what you want, so I can relax before bed.”
“Amollia said she delivered my message,” she replied evenly as she glanced around the blue foyer taking in the shelf on the wall and the table next to the door. Both were made from the same old wood that had once been Tylor’s bed as a child.
“So?”
“I thought I’d pay you a visit so that I could make you aware of how important it is that Miss Bay join my coven.”
“And that affects me how?”
“The dark forces that we’ve fought against for hundreds of years are rising,” Amara told her. “I suspect this dual Congress is only an attempt to blind us to whatever is really going on in the underworld.”
“How do you know?”
“A friend of mine is on the Congress, and she thinks aurai marked are being hunted in our city,” Amara told her, her eyes firing with anger. “She and I have come to the conclusion that killing aurai is the plan of aspirants for underworld leader.”
“Why would you two assume that? Aurai are dead.”
Amara snorted. “No one in their right mind believed that,” she said. “Besides, the aurai- marked have the power some crave. Feeding off them will confer telepathy as well as knowledge of how to destroy the aurai and all nymph.”
Aurai had access to knowledge on nearly every topic there was or would be. However, the underworld’s leaders were shielded from them by chaos demons who maintained a curtain against them until the dark forces acted.
“We know who two of the marked are and they are both targets of an aspirant.”
She already knew this and rage swelled in her anew, but Tylor kept her expression neutral, refusing to give herself away.
“Miss Bay is one of the targets and the best way to keep her safe is to bring her into my coven,” Amara told her.
“Really? You don’t think telling her so she can be proactive would be better?”
“I plan to tell her,” the other woman said, giving her a serene smile. “But if she knows what she is, I doubt she’ll willingly join us. The aurai-marked tend to be a little arrogant in thinking they’re above normal witches.”
“Isn’t that what this is about? Your arrogance?” Tylor demanded. “Amara, I’m tired and I’m not really in the mood for games, so leave.”
The older woman studied her and her aura glowed with shifting colors as she tightened her mental shields to prevent her thoughts from leaking.
Tylor found supernaturals who consciously adjusted their shields around her amusing. She could crack most shields, even those created by some chaos demons, but she didn’t bother wasting her energy. She saw no need when most people became transparent enough as they tried to put their plans in play.
“You did give her my message?”
“Yes.” Tylor slipped her hands into the pockets of her pants and watched Amara watch her. “Is that it?”
“I’ll see you at the party on Thursday eve,” she said.
Mabon Eve. The witches usually gathered at their country club, the upper crust anyway, to celebrate the coming of the fall season.
“I expect your support in ousting whatever dark breed is going to attempt to take over our city.”
“I’m not joining your coven,” Tylor replied quietly. “Good night.” She strode to the door and pulled it open.
“Aaron told me about your ideas tonight,” Amara said joining her at the door. “It would be a shame for your promising career to fade in a cloud of suspicion along with Miss Bay’s.”
Tylor gave her a cool smile. “It would be.”
“Think things over,” she said, giving her a smirk before slipping out into the night.
Tylor closed the door with a sigh. She loved her job, but she wasn’t going to be bullied or intimidated by anyone. She’d quit the job and find something else that she might come to enjoy even more.
She headed to her bedroom where she closed her eyes as she faced the south. The air in the room picked up, blowing steadily around her. It became a dark cloak, a barrier between her and the rest of the world.
Aria. The call was a polite hail, and she waited for a response.
Aria Brees was the next highest ranking aurai in the area. She was a thunder aurai, capable of causing lightning storms as well as windstorms and tornadoes.
Like her, Aria was a warrior aurai and would be her second in command should she decide to go to war with the dark ones. The Goddess of war would give her a sign if she wanted them to stay out of it. So far, the signs indicated this was her choice.
I’m here. Aria’s response was crisp.
Have there been any new developments? Have you learned who V is?
No on both counts, but there have been a few more witch deaths and the demons are now hunting an aurai-marked named Camille Bay. West wind. Jasmine just found out she was in the city.
Yes. She works at the same school as me.
Oh? How lucky. You’ll be taking charge of her then?
I’ve already done so. In a roundabout way, she mused. Tonight hadn’t been the evening she’d hoped for with Ms. Bay, but Tylor had gained the confirmation she’d needed to ensure her that Camille was her Nina.
She had killed for her and would no doubt do so again because nothing would take Camille from her this time, not even death.
We’ll have no choice but to work with the witches. In the meantime, do more digging on the members of Whiteall and Dark Hollow. There has to be a deeper connection between the two.
Already on it. Aria’s voice held a vein of irritation she chose to ignore.
Because we’re targets I won’t let this turn into a long drawn out offensive unless I’m told to let it play out.
I’ll e-mail you a report.
Thank you. How is your girl? Is she adjusting to aurai life?
She’s shown signs of being able to pick up information on the wind.
Good. Make sure she receives proper training. If you can’t, I’ll take care of it.
I can handle it.
We’ll talk soon.
Tylor exhaled on the heels of the conversation and the air swirling around her stopped, the blackness fading away.
There was too much work to be done which meant she didn’t have time to handle her new charge with kid gloves. She’d have to make that clear to Camille tomorrow. Whatever her feelings, she was no longer one but part of many.
Nina rested a hand on her belly, her stomach knotted and the baby inside kicked her as if in agreement with her mother’s fear. The wind howled outside and the boat bounced and buckled on the choppy waters.
“My Goddess,” she said softy in a shaky breath. “Where are you Carina?”
Carina had gone topside not ten minutes ago, so she knew it was unreasonable to expect her to be back so soon especially with the storm raging outside.
The cabin door open and Carina entered, her feet didn’t touch the ground but Nina barely noticed. She was so used to seeing it.
“We’ve been caught in a cyclone,” Carina told her. “The waves are going to topple this boat and we’re going into the ocean.”
“No,” Nina whispered, her voice quavering. The child kicked inside her again and she rubbed her stomach as she drew in a slow steadying breath. “I love you, Carina.”
“This is not the end, my love.”
Carina came to her, and Nina noticed she was dressed in a pair of trousers and shirt. Carina reached into the pocket and removed something.
“Why are you dressed like that?”
“Never mind,” Carina said with a ghost of a smile. “We’ll have to get off before th—” The ship lurched and Nina stumbled backward, but Carina caught her hand as she slid back into the wall. Carina braced a hand next to her head.
“I’m scared,” Nina said, her eyes tearing.
“I will take care of you, mi querida. First I want you to have this.” She handed Nina a small ring. The blue stone was almost dull in the light.
Nina took it and the silver band winked at her. Looking closer engraved on the inside of the band she saw a heart with a bolt of lightning shot through it.
“What is the meaning of this?”
“My heart burns for you, my love,” Carina told her. “I have never felt such passion for another, so much love. You are mine to be forever branded as such if you put my ring on.”
She slid the ring on her finger and cupped Carina’s jaw. “I love you, too.”
“And we will glory in our passion later. Now, we must go.”
“How can we survive?” she asked even as she gazed at the band on her finger.
“You’ll see.” Carina led her from the cabin, but they swayed and collided with the walls of the narrow corridor as they did so.
Once topside, the wind slapped her across the face and the tang of salt burned her nostrils. The ship leaned and she slid, but Carina held onto her keeping her from falling backward down the stairs.
“Ven!” Carina said and tugged her away from the stairs.
She barely heard her over the wind, but that was truly the least of her worries. Her stomach dropped into her toes and her heart stopped beating when she saw the towering wall of water coming at them.
She tried to pull back. The noise of the wave was deafening but she heard a voice through it, cursing.
She pitched forward or was pulled, falling overboard.
With a startled scream on her lips, Camille woke from the dream, heart hammering wildly in her ears. She was drenched with sweat and gripped the sheets beneath her tightly.
The love and fear filled her, but her eyes widened as she remembered the ring. The band had born the same distinct symbol as her birthmark.
“You are mine to be forever branded as such if you put my ring on.”
“Oh, my Goddess.” It couldn’t be. The dreams couldn’t be memories of a past life.
If Tylor was Carina it would certainly explain the almost unnaturally strong chemistry between them and why’d she’d had sex with her in a bathroom.
Camille sat up to find herself levitating several inches off the bed, yet resting comfortably on air. She let out a horror-struck cry and crashed to the mattress only to roll onto the floor where her arm clipped the side of the nightstand.
“Shit!” She sat up rubbing the arm. She brushed her hair back from her face and got to her feet, padding into the bathroom. She passed the vanity mirror on her way to pee and stopped, doing a double-take.
Her reflection revealed a not so subtle change in her hair. Where she’d had luscious straight locks, she now boasted gorgeous waves. She ran a hand through her hair, and noticed the silky strands held a hint of blue and the chocolate brown was almost black.
Camille withdrew her shaking hand, staring with curiosity and concern. Had someone done a spell on her while she was sleeping?
Tylor!
Camille glared at her hair and stalked to the toilet.
No, Tylor wasn’t her Carina, she was an annoyed witch who’d made a change to her hair to show her who was in control.
If Tylor thought she was going to suffer in silence, she had another thought coming, she growled angrily as she sat down to pee.
After peeing and washing her hands, she brushed her teeth and climbed into the shower. She was giving her a piece of her mind when she saw her.
****
Trent walked into the office with a secret smile on his face and headed for the row of staff mailboxes.
“Good morning, Mr. Cummings,” Tylor came to a stop on his left as another teacher joined them from the door that led out into the quad.
He gave her a cool stare. “Morning.”
“I need to speak to you a moment in my office.”
He grabbed the single sheet from his box and Tylor led the way to her office. Once there, she motioned him in ahead of her.
“Have a seat,” she suggested and Trent took one of the guest chairs before her desk.
“What is it?” he asked giving her a curious stare.
“Ms. Bay contacted me last night to inform me that she was uncomfortable with the contact you’d made with her outside of school. I don’t know who you got her number from, but don’t use it again unless she invites you to.”
“You can’t prevent me from contacting her on my own time,” he said coldly, eyes stormy.
“I can consider it as harassment and put you on probation,” Tylor told him. His expression sent alarms bells clanging in her head, and she turned them down deciding to keep an eye on him rather than take an action now. “Also, she can file a restraining order or stalking charges against you which cause me to have to fire you.”
He sneered at her and a shiver ran down her spine, warning her to beware of him.
“Fine,” he said. “Is that all?”
“Yes, and Mr. Cummings, you’re a good teacher, but I’m pulling you as academic advisor to debate team.”
“Damn it,” he snapped. “I know that jerk Wells is behind this, but those kids aren’t ready for that.”
“I think they just need a different structure than the one you’re providing,” Tylor said. “However, you could prove correct.”
“Keep embarrassing them,” he muttered. “It’s no skin off my nose.”
She gave him an indulgent smile when all she wanted to do was slap him off his chair with a hard wind.
“That’s all. Thank you,” Tylor said and he got up and stomped out.
She shook her head, instincts telling her he wasn’t going to let Camille get off that easy. He was interested in her, almost obsessed if they way he was always staring at her was any indication.
****
When Camille arrived at school, the first of the three busses of day students was just pulling in. She parked in the teacher’s lot and headed straight to Tylor’s office, her earlier anger reigniting with a vengeance.
The door was ajar, and she could hear sounds of skin on skin. Peeping in, Camille spied one of the math teachers rapidly signing. Tylor was sitting on the edge of her desk as the woman ranted.
“Marion—” Tylor started but stopped again. “I’ll talk to him.” She signed as she spoke. “Yes. Today.”
The other woman finished up and turned on her heel still in a huff as she brushed past Camille and strode down the corridor.
“Tylor.”
“What?” she asked coolly.
Camill
e pushed the door closed and stomped over to her. She pointed to her hair. “What did you do to me last night?”
Tylor looked confused. “What are you talking about?”
She released her hair from its tight knot and curled a strand around her finger. “It’s wavy.”
Tylor reached out and captured the strand and let it sift through her fingers. “Very nice, but if you wanted a compliment all you had to do was wear it out and I’d have notice right away.”
Camille glared at her. “You did this. My hair is—was straight and a beautiful shade of brown.”
Tylor shrugged. “Baby, I’m good, but not that good unfortunately, or you wouldn’t have kicked me out without dinner last night.”
Camille put a hand on her hip and pointed an accusing finger at Tylor. “So, to punish me and to show me you could make bend to your will, you put a spell on me.”
“No.” She stood. “Lower your voice, Camille. I didn’t do anything to you, you’re changing.”
She opened her mouth to protest and then closed it again. “Changing?” she asked softly, fear and confusion stopping her heart.
“Yes. You’ll be lucky if your hair doesn’t turn blue considering the amount of power you have, and the depth of your connection with the water in it,” she murmured.
She hadn’t expected to physically change and her head was reeling at the thought of what was to come.
“I talked to Trent this morning and warned him not to call you again,” Tylor told her. “But I’m not sure that will be the end of it. He seems pretty intent on taking you out, so let me know if he pushes this.”
“To say the least.”
“I also talked to Amara, she used to be on the board here. Her granddaughter has her position now.”
“So?”
“She’s not going to take no for an answer. You have to attend her party this weekend, and she will attempt to draw you into her coven.”
Camille made a face. “What if I say no?”
“She might attempt to make waves for you about the Caroline thing.”
Heat in the Air Page 7