by Jasmine Walt
“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy for—”
“Hey, listen, sorry to cut this short, but that’s my boss on the other line. I have to take this.”
“Of course. I totally under—”
The call disconnected, and I blinked at my phone. Normally, I might have been surprised by how short Shelley had been on the phone, but instead, I couldn’t help but feel anything but pure joy for her. I didn’t have to feel like I was the one blowing her off anymore. She had her own plate full of stuff to worry about, same as I did. We were both busy with life. Or in my case, busy with supernatural, life-threatening drama. I was glad that at least one of us got to have a normal existence.
After pulling into my apartment complex, I parked my car in my usual spot, then froze with my hand on the door handle. Uncle Oscar was sitting on the bottom step of the stairwell leading up to my apartment. He looked the same as always, with his flyaway grey hair, his five o-clock shadow on his weathered face, and the usual camel-colored jacket and faded jeans that covered his skinny, five-foot-nine frame.
What the fuck?
“Kid!” he crowed in his gravelly voice as I hurriedly got out of the Jeep. “Was starting to think you’d never get here. You gonna let an old guy like me freeze out here in the cold?”
“Oh my god!” I should have been angry, or scared, or a combination of both, but the negative emotions inside me were eclipsed by joy and relief as I saw him standing in front of me, alive and well. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, throwing my arms around him and squeezing his midsection.
“Oof!” he grunted, wrapping his wiry arms around me. “Nice to see you, too. I was worried after not hearing from you for so long, so I came down here to make sure you were alive. We need to talk.”
I pulled back and looked at the worried expression in his grey eyes. “All right,” I said slowly. “Come up and we’ll talk.”
I let him into my apartment, and he walked around the space slowly, taking in everything as I locked up behind me and started a pot of tea on the stove.
“Kinda weird, living in someone else’s place, don’t you think?” he mused as he stared at a still life painting hanging in the living room.
I shrugged, placing two tea bags of black chai into the mugs I’d set out on the counter. “Better than having to furnish the place myself. And I didn’t know how long I was gonna be out here.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been here too long,” Oscar said, coming to stand in front of the counter. He pinned me with a glare. “It’s time for you to come back to Chicago, Brooke. There’s nothing left for you out here, is there? I tapped a few sources, and found out about your escapade with the Onyx Order. Tom’s dead, the warlock who’s after you is dead. You should get out of here before you start drawing the wrong kind of attention.”
“It’s a little late for that,” I said flatly. The kettle started to shriek, and I turned off the burner. I poured the boiling water into the cups, then gently dunked the tea bags in a few times before allowing them to steep. “I’ve already got myself mixed up into a couple things.”
“I was afraid of that.” Sighing heavily, Oscar grabbed one of the dining chairs, then straddled it. “You’d better tell me all of it, kid.”
So I did. I told him about Maddock’s need to find the artifacts, and how I’d been helping him in exchange for training. Uncle Oscar seemed surprised, and a little impressed, that Maddock had managed to teach me how to shade. I also told him about how the Daire Witch Coven had made me an offer to join them and how Captain Randall had tried to blackmail me into getting him in along with me.
“Well, whoever’s responsible for getting rid of that slimy bastard, I’m glad he’s gone,” Uncle Oscar said when I was finished. “I would have done it myself otherwise. Kid, you have no business getting yourself tangled up with the Daire Coven. Your parents left them for good reason, and I don’t give a shit if they’ve got a new coven mistress. There’s no way they aren’t gonna turn whatever deal they make with you around so that you end up trapped with them.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I said, pouring him a second cup of tea. “But seriously, Uncle Oscar, I need to find someone I can trust to teach me how to use my witch powers.”
Uncle Oscar pressed his lips together. “I’m not sure there’s anyone out there who isn’t going to try to use and manipulate you. This is why I tried to keep you away from all this, Brooke. Because there’s no one out there you can trust, and the bigger you grow, the bigger a target you’re going to be. You were better off at home, safe with me.”
“Would you stop saying that?” I set down my tea cup with a sharp snap. “You know that I don’t agree, so there’s no point in continuing to argue about it.”
“Fine.” Oscar huffed out a breath, looking annoyed. “But just so you know, kid, you don’t need to worry about the Morrigan hurting me.”
I blinked at him. “I don’t?”
He shook his head. “I have, ah, special protection. She won’t be able to get her wicked claws into me, no matter what she says.”
“But I thought the fae couldn’t lie,” I protested.
“Yes, but the fae are really good at twisting their words to get around that little handicap,” Oscar said. “What did the Morrigan say to you, exactly?”
I thought back. “She said, ‘All you need to know is that, should you fail, I will come for your Uncle Oscar.’”
Oscar nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. She said that she would ‘come for me’, not that she would actually be successful in taking me, or even that she would kill me. I know it’s hard for you to trust me anymore, kid, but trust me on this—the Morrigan can’t hurt me.”
My lips curved into a crooked smile. “Well, I don’t see why you’d lie about your own life being in danger.” I took a sip of my tea, flavored with milk and sugar, unlike Oscar’s which he drank plain. “So are you saying I should ditch Maddock and the Morrigan, since there won’t be consequences?”
“Not exactly,” Oscar said, scowling. “The Morrigan might not be able to come after me, but you do owe her a favor. If you don’t deliver, she’ll just take her payment out of your hide in some other way. It’s probably best that you just hand over the artifacts, then wash your hands of this whole thing.”
“I can’t do that,” I said, my chest heavy. “Maddock might be a jerk, but he really needs the artifacts, and the Morrigan shouldn’t have them. It doesn’t seem right to just leave it like this.”
Oscar sighed. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I don’t really see how this ends well for you if you don’t give her the artifacts. Tremaine can always try to get them back after you hand them over. It’s not worth your life, kid. And besides, he may have helped you out, but he’s not your friend. Fae lords are always trouble.”
Don’t I know that, I thought. Oscar was right, but so was I. I needed to get out of this mess, but before I did that, I needed to make sure those artifacts didn’t fall into the Morrigan’s hands.
How I was going to do that, though, was still anyone’s guess.
Chapter 20
Uncle Oscar left early the next morning, saying he had business with an old friend in Boston. I dropped him at the train station, then headed home with the intention of getting a few more hours sleep. It was Sunday, my day off, and I desperately needed to catch up on some shut-eye.
But just as I laid back down on my bed, someone knocked on my door.
“Who is it!” I snapped, not making any effort to move from my mattress. I was tired, dammit. Couldn’t I have a moment’s peace in between disasters?
“It’s me,” Maddock said after teleporting into my bedroom. “I saw yer many missed calls, and snarky voicemails,” he added dryly. “Ye mentioned something about being up shit’s creek without a paddle?”
“I told you not to teleport into my place anymore,” I grumbled, rolling onto my back so I could glare at him. But I was glad that I didn’t have to get up to answer the door. And the view was prett
y nice, I admitted to myself as I took him in. For once, Maddock wasn’t dressed in a suit—he wore a long, black woolen pea coat, jeans, and sturdy leather boots that actually looked like they’d seen a few miles.
“Aye,” Maddock said, sounding utterly unconcerned. He sat down on the chair next to the dresser. “Now are ye going to keep stalling, or will ye tell me what’s got ye in such a kerfuffle?”
“A kerfuffle?” I sat up, scowling at him. “You know damn well what’s gotten me into a ‘kerfuffle’.” I jabbed a finger in his direction. “You went and got rid of Randall without telling me anything, and I got blindsided by the aftermath!”
“I distinctly remember telling ye I was going to take care of him,” Maddock reminded me. “And ye agreeing rather enthusiastically.”
“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to just up and do it without telling me what the plan was!” I threw my hands up in the air. Truthfully, I kind of did expect that sort of thing from him. But I needed him to realize how bizarre that kind of behavior was if we were going to be stuck working together. “What the hell did you do with him, and why couldn’t you have told me beforehand?”
“If ye must know, it happened very suddenly.” Maddock’s eyes darkened. “The guard I set to watch yer apartment reported—”
“You what?” I nearly came off the bed. So much for being tired. Maddock had my adrenaline surging, forcing away all need for sleep and replacing it with a sick feeling in my stomach. “You put a detail on me without letting me know?”
“Not on ye,” he said irritably. “Just on yer apartment, to keep watch in case anyone did somehow track the artifacts here. If ye were to be killed, the artifacts would instantly become visible to anyone searching, and they would come straight here. It’s a reasonable precaution.”
“Fine,” I huffed, laying back down. I wasn’t going to get into it with him about the way he kept talking about situations where I might die as if it were no big deal. I needed to stay focused. “But you still should have told me. This is what I’m talking about,” I added, slapping my hand against the mattress. “Your lack of communication. It’s infuriating.”
Maddock nodded stiffly. “My guard, Fanul, confronted Randall after he came out of your apartment to ensure that he had not taken the artifacts or anything else of value. The warlock gave him a good beating, but in the end, Fanul prevailed and brought him to the lockup in the club. My head of security had him searched and thoroughly questioned, and it was revealed that he had come to your apartment to plant more incriminating evidence.”
“I wish I was surprised,” I muttered. “The bastard planted something in my office desk, too, and Baxter found it today. He suspects I was involved somehow.”
“We should probably change his memories so that he stops asking questions,” Maddock said. “He would never believe the truth, and it does no good for him to keep stirring up trouble like this.”
I winced at that. “He’s already had his memories altered by Father James, which made things difficult enough when I first got here. I feel like if we do it again, it could backfire on us somehow.”
“Not if we do it properly,” Maddock said firmly. “We’ll use it as a last resort, if you feel so strongly about it.”
“Thanks.” I smiled a little, pleased that Maddock was actually taking my wishes into consideration. “So, is Randall still in your club?”
“No,” Maddock said. “I banished him to a largely uninhabited and rather unhospitable section of the unseelie lands in Faerie. It is doubtful he will ever be able to make his way back.”
“Why didn’t you put him wherever you put the other members of his coven?”
“The other members are in a different section of Faerie, put into an eternal sleep and buried deep in the earth,” Maddock explained. He smoothed his hands over the arms of my bedside chair, though I got the distinct feeling it was with disdain and not appreciation of the old furniture. “I felt such a fate was far too kind for Randall,” he continued, “considering all the trouble he’s caused.”
“I wish you could have altered his memories or something,” I said, scrubbing a hand over my face. “The Chief is back, and she brought me into her office for questioning. Right now, she’s reasonably assured I’m innocent, and in fact she’s so pleased about the reports she’s gotten of me that she offered me a permanent position here. I don’t want to jeopardize my good standing with her.”
Maddock was silent for a long moment. “Are ye going to take it?” he finally asked.
“I was leaning toward yes, before Baxter flipped out on me,” I said. “I need some way to pay my rent if I’m going to stay out here.”
“As I said, we can take care of Baxter.” Maddock leaned back in the bedside chair. The way his body relaxed, as if he was exhausted as I was, made him see entirely too human for a moment. I couldn’t let myself forget who he really was, and what he was capable of. “And if ye dinnae take the offer, I’m sure I can help arrange some other form of employment.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, feeling uneasy about that. I didn’t really want to be beholden to Maddock any more than I already was. If I ended up working for him, or for someone he knew, it would only make the disparity between us even worse.
“I need to go take care of some things,” Maddock said, getting to his feet. “If ye had any plans for later this afternoon, cancel them. We’re going to be retrieving the final artifact when I get back.”
“Yes, sir,” I saluted sarcastically as he teleported out.
I couldn’t help but be annoyed that I was basically at his beck and call. But at the same time, I was relieved that this would be the last artifact. I would decide what to do after we had them all, and then whatever happened after that, I would deal with when the time came.
I got up from the bed, then went to my closet to grab the chest I’d hidden the artifacts in. I should start getting familiar with them now, to see if maybe I could teach myself how to use them before the Morrigan came. If I could successfully fend her off, maybe she would just give up.
Why don’t you just tell Maddock? A voice in my head argued. Maybe he’d know a way out of this fucked arrangement. And besides, he ought to know what’s going on since he’s about to get fucked himself.
That was true. I hadn’t wanted to tell Maddock about this before because I was worried the Morrigan might somehow overhear and hurt Uncle Oscar in retaliation. But since I no longer had to worry about that, there wasn’t really any good reason not to tell him.
I grabbed my phone so I could try to reach Maddock before he went out of cell service range again, but before I could call, it started ringing. Dread filled my chest at the sight of Thelia’s number flashing on the screen, and I debated the idea of simply sending her to voicemail. But she would only call back, or worse, come straight to my apartment.
“Hello, Brooke,” Thelia said when I answered. “I hope I’m not calling too early.”
“Not at all,” I lied, glancing at the clock. It was eight thirty am on a Sunday morning. Way too fucking early for someone who hadn’t been sleeping all week, but I’d probably made her think I was an early riser given the time I called her to meet the first time. “What can I do for you?”
“Mistress Darcia is coming to Salem on business, and she would like to meet you while she is here,” Thelia said smoothly. “She asked me to reach out to you and see if you were available for tea at ten thirty this morning.”
“I’m not totally sure,” I hedged. Maddock had said that he wouldn’t be getting me until later in the day, but what if he turned out to need me earlier? Besides, I wasn’t at all sure I was ready to meet the coven mistress. I wanted a few more days to square away this business with the artifacts and the Morrigan first, before I made any decisions about covens.
“It would not be wise to refuse,” Thelia warned, though her tone was mild. “You want to make a good impression on the Mistress, I assure you.”
“Fine,” I said, and if my tone sounded slightly irritable, I
didn’t give a damn. “I’ll be there.”
I got off the phone with Thelia, then went to get ready. Yes, I had two hours, but I looked like hell. And besides, I had the distinct impression that one did not meet the Mistress of a powerful witch coven while wearing sweats and a sports jersey. At least not if you wanted her to take you seriously.
After a hot shower and dressing in a pair of black slacks and a wine-colored sweater, I headed over to meet Darcia and Thelia at Witch City Tea Shop, which was located off Washington Street in Downtown. The place was a lot bigger on the inside than it was on the outside, with soothing pale green walls, glossy wooden floors, and exposed beams running along the high ceilings. There was a bar toward the back where one could order tea and pastries, and little glass display cases set up in various parts of the shop to display teapots that looked like works of art.
Thelia and Darcia were already seated at a table in the corner, away from the window so that they couldn’t be seen from the street. The place was pretty busy, mostly full of mothers and daughters, and I picked my way through the tables toward them.
“Good morning,” Thelia said, rising from her chair. She gestured to the woman seated next to her—a gorgeous, willowy woman with silver hair and large, grey eyes heavily accented with eyeliner to give them a smoky, mysterious look. She wore a maroon dress with cream leggings, a pentagram on a silver chain hung around her slender neck, and jewels adorned several of her fingers. “I’d like to introduce you to Miss Darcia Lane, Mistress of the Daire Coven.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. There was a regal air about the woman that made me instinctively want to bow, but it felt weird to do something like that in a public place, so I settled for nodding my head.
“And you,” Darcia said in a clear voice that reminded me of sunny spring days. She smiled, revealing perfect, even teeth, and in that smile, I sensed something dangerous. “Why don’t you have a seat and enjoy some tea. Do you like oolong?”