by Cat Adams
There was the briefest of pauses—perhaps the space of a heartbeat—then an explosion. The stone, unable to withstand the impact of the bullet after being weakened by the titanic magics forced into it, shattered, sending a shock wave outward. The fiery tornado was blown out like a giant birthday candle. The ground lurched sickeningly beneath me, as the power behind me expanded without resistance, flowing over me in a burning wave. I closed my eyes against both pain and nausea, bracing myself as my body reacted to the conflicting magical powers. Pure energy swept outward from the enemy encampment, flattening everything outside our walls, squashing the enemy army like so many roaches before burning their bodies to dust in an instant. The power hit the sandbags with hurricane force, the ground itself rocking from an earthquake that probably scored high on the Richter scale. The truck I lay in bucked enough to drop me into the bed.
When the powers met in the air above me, there was a sound like the chime of a huge bell. I opened my eyes, turning to see the pure blue-white light change to a vivid neon purple that shone more brightly than the noonday sun. People dropped to the ground, burying their faces in their hands, turning away from the light. I tried to use my forearm to shield my eyes, but I cared too much about the people in that circle to turn away. My four mages were tiny black specks against the painful brightness. As I watched, three of them fell to their knees. The hood of the standing figure’s cloak was thrown back by eldritch winds, revealing Isabella’s face as she shrieked the final words of the spell. Power poured into and back out through her, rebuilding the Needle’s defenses, renewing them, making them more powerful than they’d ever been. The pain of the magic ripped across my skin and I screamed, writhing in agony, for an endless instant until the world went dark.
* * *
I forced my eyes open to find Bubba kneeling next to me. He looked a little worse for wear; one arm was strapped to his body and he was covered with dirt and scratches, but he was alive. There was something weird about his eyes. They were blue—really, really blue, like lasers or the light sabers in that old sci-fi movie. His eyes hadn’t been that color before. Had they?
“Graves, you’re back.”
“Jeez,” I wheezed, “can’t a girl even take a nap without everyone getting spooked?”
It was a weak joke, but he gave a snort of laughter anyway, settling himself cross-legged onto the ground beside me as I sat up. Chris dropped a blanket over me and handed me a bottle of water. The blanket was rough wool and army green. Looking around I saw a lot more people milling about than had been there when I’d passed out. Most of them were in uniform.
“Drink this. Stay warm. I’ve got other people with worse injuries to tend to, but shock is tricky. Bubba, keep an eye on her.”
Bubba nodded his assent. When Chris walked off to his next patient, Bubba turned to me. “Before you ask, they’re National Guard. The governor sent in a unit at the archbishop’s request. There’s a group of militant priests here, too, working to banish the thing in the middle of the battlefield. The guard’s pretty much taken things over. Bruno’s fine. So’re John and Matty. Mrs. DeLuca is alive, but every hair on her body is white, even her eyelashes. And she’s blind. Chris bandaged her eyes, but I’m pretty sure it’s permanent.”
I was pretty sure it would be, too. She’d been a conduit for too much powerful magic. She was lucky to have lived. I figured she probably knew that. She’d been prepared to die. Blindness would be hard, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But it was better than dying.
So was being a werewolf.
Apparently it was a night for tough choices and compromise.
“What’s up with your eyes?”
“The magic did it. Everyone the magic hit has blue eyes. You do, too.”
Really? Wow. How weird. No matter how much I learn about magic, I’m always startled by the odd, esoteric stuff that gets left out of the textbooks.
“I have blue eyes now?” I knew he’d just said that, but I seemed to be a little slow on the uptake. Besides, I’d wanted blue eyes like Ivy’s since I was a little kid.
He nodded.
“Don’t suppose you have a mirror?”
“Nope, sorry.”
Oh, well, I could wait to see my face. At least the color change didn’t seem to have affected my vision. I could see the bustle of cleanup activity easily thanks to the full moon and the huge fluorescent lights mounted atop four big National Guard equipment trucks.
I sat, sipping my water, feeling strength seeping slowly back into me. Soon I might even be up to standing. But there was no hurry. For the moment I was content to stay right where I was.
“How’s Talia?”
“Chris says she’ll make it. He used some pretty hefty magic on her, and that helped. Still, she’s going to need a lot of physical therapy if she’s going to get full use of that arm again. They’ve taken her to the staging area for the medical choppers.”
She was going to be fine. That was such a relief that I closed my eyes, saying a quick prayer of thanks.
“You okay?”
“Hunky-dory.” He gave me a long, steady look, then asked, “Did you shoot one of their mages?”
I shook my head. “Nope. Took out the focus stone. That’s where all the power was.”
“Smart move.”
“Thanks.”
We didn’t say much after that, just sat in companionable silence. I wondered what had happened to Thomas. He wasn’t tied up on the ground anymore. But I didn’t wonder enough to ask.
I turned at the sound of footsteps some time later. “Ms. Graves.” Zach Stone, one of the lower-ranking employees of Miller & Creede, stood at full parade rest, as if we were military and I was an officer. I was startled by that but didn’t comment. His expression was too serious.
“Yes?”
“Your employee, Talia Han, gave me a message for you.”
“Yeah?”
“‘If I wanted to be in a war zone, I’d have stayed in the army. I quit.’” He extended his hand; on his palm rested my jewelry.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was a little hysterical, but it felt really good. I took the bracelet and earring Zach offered, then the earring Bubba held out to me. Rather than risk losing them by tucking them in my pockets, I put them all on.
When I thought I was steady enough to stand without falling, I got to my feet. Turning to the nearest medic, I asked where I could find the injured mages. His directions led me right to three of them.
Emma and Matty were holding each other upright, standing silently over Isabella DeLuca. Bruno sat next to her on a rock, his body sagging with exhaustion. His head was nearly between his knees. A wool blanket much like the one I wore was wrapped loosely around his shoulders; beneath it, he wore an old Mets baseball jersey and faded jeans. His eyes were blue, his hair liberally laced with silver. It was so strange. Not unattractive, but not the Bruno I knew and loved. I felt a pang of sadness but shoved it forcibly aside. He was alive. It was practically a miracle.
“Celia.” He sat up, smiling hugely. “You did it.” He held out an arm and I ducked beneath it, letting him pull me close. I buried my face in his shoulder for a moment, taking in the familiar strength, the warmth, the scent of him that had been a part of my life for so long.
“We did it,” I corrected him. “It was a group effort.”
He gave me a weary squeeze. “Yeah, but we were losing until you showed up. And I heard you were the one who made the big shot.”
I couldn’t deny it, so I didn’t even try.
The smile faded, his expression sobering. “Even with Finn dead, and them having to fight against both us and the existing protections, we were losing. Who the hell are these guys?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Wish I did.” It occurred to me belatedly that he’d spoken of them in the present tense. “Do you think they’re still alive?” I hoped not. The force of the explosion when I’d shot the vosta had been huge. It had wiped out close to two hundred spawn. Surely
nobody close to the blast could have survived.
He gave a huge sigh. “Finn’s dead. I felt that. Another of the mages was killed when you took out the vosta. But two of them survived. I’m sure of it.”
I swore wearily. Two new enemies, enemies strong enough and smart enough to have survived the equivalent of a magical Hiroshima.
“Celia.” Isabella’s voice drew my focus. She looked so frail, with her eyes bandaged and her hair snow-white, but she sat rigidly upright, her spine as straight as if it was reinforced with a steel rod despite the exhaustion she had to be feeling. She still wore her robe, but it had been bleached a white so pure it was almost painful to look at.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You did well. You should be proud.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome.” She sighed. “I owe Isaac an apology. Apparently he was right about you. He will no doubt want to rub my nose in it.”
Isabella DeLuca was admitting she was wrong. She was going to apologize. Holy crap. I stood there blinking. I knew I should say something but couldn’t seem to come up with anything to say that wouldn’t be seriously tactless. Bruno gave me a weary grin, but it was Emma who threw me a lifeline.
“Before I forget,” she said, “Kevin called. He and Michelle are both fine. They didn’t eat anybody.”
“Oh, good.”
Bruno’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t interrupt.
Emma continued. “He said they’ll meet us for breakfast at Irma’s Diner at nine—if you’re okay with him.”
“Why wouldn’t you be okay with Kevin? What happened?” Bruno asked.
“It’s a long story,” I told him, “and not important.”
He didn’t believe me, but he was too tired to push for now.
Emma and I shared a look. What had happened at the cabin wasn’t something Bruno ever needed to know about. And ultimately, it really wasn’t that important. I’d known for years that Kevin Landingham was a werewolf. I just hadn’t realized what it meant—not until I saw him smile at me through the bars of the gate, met his gaze as he tried to climb into the helicopter after me. I knew now that there were times when Kevin looked at other human beings as food.
I couldn’t blame him. Not when I had the same problem.
33
I was late for breakfast. I’d been right. The authorities wanted their questions answered. Rizzoli had shown up somewhere along the way, so while the powers that be were insistent about getting information, they were pleasant and polite about it. I overheard one or two interesting bits of information while I was waiting around. Warden Davis had vanished from the prison, and his magic signature was one of the four at the other site.
The authorities weren’t happy with me. They were even less happy with John. But the evidence was clear. The other guys had demons and spawn, and in the middle of the desert were two dead mages who were supposed to be locked up in maximum security on the upper floors of the Needle.
We’d saved the day. Again.
So eventually they cut me loose. The first thing I did was telepathically contact Queen Lopaka—my cell phone, like everyone else’s, had been confiscated, both to contain the leaking of information to the Internet and as evidence of what happened. At my request, my aunt agreed to call King Dahlmar and to apply her own political pressure, along with the King’s, to help John Creede.
Since I didn’t have a car, I caught a ride with Bruno. He agreed to drop me off at the restaurant, but he wouldn’t be staying. He was headed to UCLA Medical Center, where they’d taken his mom for treatment. Matty had flown there with her—as a fellow patient. He’d overstrained his magic and they wanted to keep him for observation.
We didn’t talk much on the drive. We both had a lot on our minds, and it wasn’t far from the Needle to Irma’s.
I knew Bruno was thinking of his mother and his brother, and worrying about John. They’d been rivals for my affection, but they were also friends. If there was anything Bruno could do to help the other man out of his legal difficulties, I knew he’d do it.
My thoughts were about the guys who got away and what that might mean for my future. I was glad to set that aside when I got out of the car at Irma’s and joined my friends for a victory celebration.
Emma and Kevin exchanged meaningful looks, but I ignored them, the same way Kevin ignored the adoring looks Michelle was casting his direction. She was young, she was smitten. I didn’t worry about him doing anything inappropriate.
Michelle tore her gaze away from Kevin long enough to meet my eyes. “Ms. Graves, I want to thank you. Your quick thinking saved me. I’d be dead if you hadn’t had Kevin do what he did.” She was so earnest, it was ridiculous. She was only a few years younger than me, but somehow she managed to make me feel ancient.
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“No, of course not.” She smiled when she said it, flashing white teeth and deep dimples. “But Kevin’s agreed to mentor me until I get full control of my beast.”
I turned to him, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. He ignored me in favor of taking a big bite of rare steak, juices dripping from his fork onto the plate. Then again, maybe that was an answer.
I finished before everyone else. There hadn’t been a lot of suitable food choices on the menu, and I wanted to get on the road. Kevin came up as I was paying the bill. He walked me out to the parking lot to wait as the mechanic brought out my SUV but didn’t say anything until he was sure we were alone.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No,” I admitted. “But I will be.”
He stared at me for a long moment. “Yeah, you will. You’ve changed, you know, these past couple of years. You’ve grown up. Before the vampire bite, you’d never have been able to make the hard choices.”
“It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does.” His gaze locked with mine, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. “Emma tells me that two of the warlocks survived. And that they escaped.”
I didn’t want to think about that right now. I knew I needed to, but I just didn’t have the heart for it. I knew he could hear it in my voice when I said, “So they tell me.”
“Do you want me to track them?”
Once upon a time Kevin had been a field operative for the Company. His specialty was hunting “hard targets,” the worst of the worst. He was offering to do that again, for me, despite the fact that his PTSD was severe enough to require an assistance dog. He’d do it, too.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. Was it friendship that prompted the offer? Or was it something else? My gran had told me that men will fulfill a siren’s needs, even to their doom. Chris had flown me into the middle of a war zone and jumped out of that helicopter because I needed backup. Kevin was offering to do for me what he’d done for the Company. Maybe out of friendship. Then again, maybe not. My vampire side had intensified after being left on the beach. Had my siren side been affected as well? I couldn’t know without checking with my great-aunt, or maybe El Jefe, Kevin’s father, Warren. But I knew one thing for certain: I was a siren. Influencing men was something I could do—but only if I let myself.
“No, I don’t think so. Not this time.”
He shook his head sadly and his shaggy blond hair fell slightly over his blue eyes. It was a boyish look, but his words weren’t boyish. They were deadly serious. “You screwed up their plans, Celia. You. Nobody else. They’re not going to forget or forgive.”
He was right. I knew it. That Davis and the other man had gotten away was most likely going to bite me in the ass hard somewhere down the line. But it didn’t matter. Kevin was my friend. I was not sending him up against these people. Not now. Not ever. There had to be another way to stop them. I would just have to find it.
I climbed into the cab of the SUV, feeling old and tired. My whole body hurt. Worse, my heart ached. So much had happened in the past few days. I needed some time alone to think and absorb it all. I rolled down the window to ask Kevin one last
question.
“Are you really going to mentor Michelle?”
He grimaced. “It’s traditional. If you turn someone, you’re responsible for training her until she can control herself. When she’s ready, I’ll introduce her to a friend of mine who’s the leader of a pack.” He could tell from the expression on my face how I was feeling. “Don’t feel bad. It’s all right. I don’t mind. You made the right choice.”
If I had, then why did I feel so crappy about it?
“You’re just tired. Go home. Get some rest.”
“Maybe you’re right.” I turned the key in the ignition and the truck’s engine roared to life. “Good-bye, Kevin.”
“Good-bye. Be careful driving home.”
“I will.”
He stood in the parking lot watching as I drove away.
I thought about Jack Finn. I’d let him live. Had it been a mistake? Maybe. I didn’t know. I’d done it because I’d thought I needed to, but he was a bad man, a killer who was probably only slightly better than his father had been. I thought about Connor Finn. We’d had quite the dance, he and I. I lived, he died, but his ghost was out there, a powerful, violent shade. There is only so much harm a ghost could do, but I’d no doubt he’d manage every bit of it given the chance. And there wasn’t one damned thing I could do about it.
Thinking of ghosts brought memories of my sister. I missed Ivy. On the drive home, it really hit me. Usually during a long drive she’d provide the air-conditioning, mess with the radio, and draw hearts in frost on the driver’s-side window. That would never happen again. She might be better off. I wasn’t sure I was.
I turned on the radio, determined not to wallow in self-pity anymore. We’d won, damn it. Michelle was alive. The prison wards were back up. The bad guys’ plans were foiled. We’d won. I hit the search button. The first channel it found was a disco station. The classic notes of Donna Summer’s “I Will Survive” blasted out of the speakers.
It made me laugh. There were tears in my eyes, but the laughter was real, too. Turning up the volume, I sang along, belting out the words I’d learned from listening to the punk version. After that I felt better, enough better that I had a brainstorm. I hit the button to make a couple of hands-free calls, first to Dawna and then Emma.