The short nod she got in answer didn’t settle the fear knotting her stomach.
“Can we come in? Please?” Devlin’s voice was soft and calm. His face was hard and blank though as he flashed a badge at the Supreme.
“Of course, be my guest,” Maura stepped back and held the door open wider, waving toward the couch. “I’d offer to get you something, but it’d be best if you didn’t stay too long. I’m—not well— as you can see.”
Michaela certainly did see. Looking with her magic she saw brilliant white magic shimmering around her coven leader. And a pale echo of that shimmer settled at the other witch’s center. Michaela would have expected that echo to be a roaring flame, but the pure colors proved the witch was still on the right side of magic.
Devlin settled gingerly onto the antique sofa, winced as it creaked under his solid bulk. “We’re looking for Michaela’s sister, and her brother-in-law. Samantha Steele and Mark—” Devlin glanced toward Michaela with raised eyebrows. It took her a moment to register his unspoken question.
“Davidson. Mark Davidson. He married Sam, but she refused to take his name. Or give it to the boys, for that matter…”
Supreme Maura looked mortified at the very thought, and pink filled the apples of her cheeks. At least the coven leader had a bit more life in her gaze when she was emotionally unbalanced.
“Precisely what do you expect me to do, child?” Her tone was dark and bitter. “Any fool with eyes can see my magic is damn near drained dry.”
Michaela slumped in her seat and nodded sadly. She could see that very well, thank you. Didn’t mean the woman had to call her a damn fool.
Devlin’s low growl echoed off the log walls and hardwood floors. Michaela shook her head at him. Not like the other witch’s attitude was worth getting worked up over. She’d always been low woman on the totem pole so to speak.
Apparently her silent warning had gone unnoticed. Or ignored. Regardless, his next words sent color flooding Supreme’s face. “I would expect any witch with enough talent to be appointed coven leader to prevent the incursion of dark magic into her region. Not to mention the very god-damned forest she lives in!”
“You upstart shifter b—”
“Ah, ah Supreme Blake.” Devlin flashed his badge again. “If you’re going to be uncivil about this, we can revert to my title. Agent Quinn, if you will.” He tucked the badge back in his pocket, and heat rose in Michaela’s cheeks again when a low cough pulled her wandering attention back to the conversation at hand. “If you insist on continuing in this vein, I’ll have to take you in for disrespecting an Arcane Affairs Agent. Failure to aid in an official investigation. Maybe even interfering with said investigation.”
Maura shut her mouth with an audible snap. Her cheeks paled, flushed, then paled again as she leaned back unsteadily on the backrest of her rocking chair. “Forgive me, please.” She even flopped a limp hand across her forehead. Either her coven leader was a better actress than Michaela had ever guessed, or the woman was truly running on what amounted to magic fumes and caffeine. “I forgot myself for a moment. But you must realize, Agent Quinn—”
The limp hand fell to her lap, and that over-tired, dull gaze brightened fast. “I’ve drained my magic to the dregs for a reason. That—” she paused, took a sip of water from the bottle on the end table, then continued. “That mess out there is why I’m out of gas. Out of energy. And out of patience, it seems.” She chuckled wryly.
“I see. Can I ask you some questions about ‘that mess’ as you so eloquently put it?” Devlin’s tone was soft, conciliatory, almost. But Michaela didn't’ miss the hard, suspicious light in his gaze or the subsonic rumble that vibrated the couch. Devlin the man might be calm and collected, but his beast was pissed off.
The Supreme waved her hand in an elegant ‘go ahead’ gesture, and waited patiently.
Devlin cleared his throat, glanced around the room, then began. “Have you seen any strangers in this area recently?”
“No, not unless I count you two.” Her tone made what would have been a reasonable answer an insult in disguise. Michaela clearly read the unspoken ‘idiots’ in that reply. And if she heard it, no doubt in her mind Devlin did, too. Yet he didn’t change a millimeter of his expression, and the couch had stopped vibrating as soon as he’d cleared his throat. Michaela had to tear her mind away from trying to interpret every reaction or lack thereof on Devlin’s part and redirect her focus to the answers he was getting.
“Do you know of any warlocks operating in the area?”
This time, the ‘idiot’ message was driven by the Supreme’s narrowed gaze. At least her voice was cool and distant. “Any idiot could tell that just by setting foot in that forest. I’d venture to guess even a human would feel something off out there by now.”
Devlin nodded along calmly. Michaela couldn’t disagree with the other witch’s assessment. She figured most people would steer clear of any place that felt as foreboding as that forest on pure instinct. Which begged the question: why was the Supreme still living at what had to be close to the center of all that dark magic? And where was the rest of the coven if they weren’t helping her try to deal with it?
Michaela nudged Devlin in the ribs with her elbow, but he didn’t flinch. Just kept his eyes steady on the Supreme as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a handful of pictures. He passed them across to Maura, and watched as she flipped slowly through them. “Do you know, or have you ever seen these people?”
A long slow nod was their only answer. Devlin waited in silence, chiseled face turned expectantly toward the Supreme. It felt like an eternity before the woman elaborated. “I’ve been so busy cleaning up other people’s messes,” another wave toward the forest, and the black magic it contained. “That I’ve barely had time to take care of myself. Much less other people.”
“How come you haven’t asked the coven to help?” Michaela whispered hoarsely. Devlin's warm glance and the slightest upward curl of his mouth settled her nerves. Supreme glared at her in stony silence for so long Michaela started to wonder if she’d really asked at all. Or if the woman had heard her.
“I don’t answer to the likes of you, young lady.” Michaela shrunk in her seat under the onslaught of words. “Last I checked, this coven was under my control, my rule.” Michaela nodded stiffly. She couldn’t argue with that fact. Still, didn’t mean the Supreme had to be such a bitch about it.
“I just thought—” Michaela hesitated, then chose better wording than ‘I could have helped’. Because realistically, her magic was useless out there. “That invoking the full circle of a coven would spare your magic, and get the issue dealt with faster.”
“Answer the lady, Supreme Blake. It’s a valid question, one I’d like an answer, too.”
A low sigh echoed through the room as the supreme cast her gaze skyward in obvious appeal to someone, or something for aide. Maybe she was asking for patience? “I don’t work with witches whose magic is broken, tainted.” A sharp nod at Michaela had her all but jumping off the couch in protest. “And despite your talent with herbs and potions, despite the great, hidden potential I sense in you, your magic is unreliable.”
“That doesn’t explain why you didn’t call any of the others.”
“What makes you think I haven’t? Have you spoken to each and every member of our coven?”
Devlin shook his head, and pulled out a note pad. Michaela opened her mouth to speak, only to be cut off when Maura continued her vitriol.
“You know not one of the other members has as much potential for magic as you. As much power stored. Why should I be forced to rely on a bunch of incompetent witches. It’s enough like herding cats to get any big spells done when everyone knows their place,” the dark look the Supreme shot at her practically shouted ‘unlike you’ in Michaela’s face. “Never mind when they’re practicing with unreliable, broken, or limited reserves.”
Devlin cleared his throat, then spoke in a low, menacing tone. “So you’re saying
you’d prefer to wear your own reserves to nothing than call on ‘lesser’ witches for help? Do you know how that looks from where I sit?”
The Supreme shrugged. “I’m saying I couldn’t rely on anyone with lesser powers because the taint of dark magic would corrupt them much faster and easier than it can take me. I have a chance of beating that mess out there. The rest of the local supes?” She shrugged. “They’ve got about a snowball’s chance in hell, I guess.”
“I see. So you’re not just poking at your coven mate there to get a rise out of her?”
“What?” Another short head-shake, and eyes closed tight. “I’d worried that she was connected to the ‘strangers’ I’d heard rumors of. That she was part of the mess that lead up to … all this.” The supreme sighed and rested her chin in her hands. “If I’d ever thought that letting lesser witches into the coven would lead to this—”
Devlin’s growl and the tearing of fabric cut the Supreme off mid-sentence. “You’ve maligned the character of Ms. Steele more than enough today, Supreme Blake.” Another tearing sound as Devlin pulled claw-tipped hands away from too-soft, fragile couch cushions distracted Michaela from her insane need to run, or bawl, or both. “Unless you have any further information you think will be of value to this investigation….”
The Supreme’s soft, trembling ‘no, nothing further’ and her wide-eyed fear filled gaze was oddly gratifying. Too bad all that fear—and by extension, respect—was directed at Devlin instead of her. Wouldn’t it be nice to make him a more permanent fixture in her life just to see that look on her coven leader’s face again? Ah well, a girl could dream, if she dared.
“Then we’ll see ourselves out.” Devlin rose, and extended a large, calloused palm toward Michaela. “Miss Steele, if you please?”
Michaela bit back a sob and ordered the tears welling in her eyes to stay put as she placed one trembling hand in Devlin’s solid, comforting grasp. He pulled her to her feet with an effortless tug, and kept right on pulling until she landed in the protective curve of his arm. The solid weight of his arm across her shoulders stilled the trembles coursing through her body, and the heat of him pressed against her gave her courage to speak her mind before they left.
“If you were a true Supreme, Maura Elizabeth Blake, then that,” Michaela pointed toward the front door, and by extension the forest beyond. “Sludge gumming up the local magic would never have gotten a single toe-hold in the entire region. As it sits-” Michaela breathed deep, and steadied her nerves for an explosion. “It’s as if you invited it to your front door, to sit on the porch and have a nice visit, sip some iced tea and discuss the local gossip.”
Michaela curled in closer to Devlin, going so far as to tuck her face into his sturdy shoulder. Something flashed at the edges of her vision but she kept her attention on Devlin’s solid presence as he escorted her silently out of the cabin.
The explosion Michaela expected never came, but chills crept up her spine and settled deep in her heart.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Can’t believe I never realized what a bitch she is,” Michaela muttered. Devlin reveled in the soft feel of her pressed tight against his side, loved the way she leaned on him on the hike back to the sedan. Not even continuous recitation of the spells he carried in the trunk was enough to divert his thoughts from those luscious curves and just how badly he wanted another taste.
“Hate to break it to you but she’s more than just a bitch.” The subtle tension vibrating through her made Devlin’s heart stutter. God, he hated playing the bad guy, being the bearer of dark tidings. But there was no one else. And if Michaela hadn’t seen what he had, she needed to know the truth.
“What?” Michaela settled gently into the leather seat of the sedan, eyes narrowed in confusion when they met his gaze. Devlin smirked, shut the door gently, then slid into the driver’s seat.
“She knew.”
“Knew what, Devlin?” Michaela waved her hands in frustration.
“About the cursed charm we found.”
“How—” Michaela sputtered to a stop. Silence balanced on the knife-edge of expectation filled the car as Devlin backed carefully down the narrow path back to the blacktop. “Could you possibly know that?”
Devlin drove in silence for a while, enjoying the steady fading of dark magic the more distance they put between them and that unholy forest. Michaela’s soft sighs of impatience, and unending fidgeting in the seat beside him finally drove him to answer. He just hoped she’d believe him. “Because she pocketed a twin to the amulet we found as we were leaving.”
“I didn’t see—”
“You were too busy trying to keep your hands off me,” Devlin winked at her to take the sting out of his words. Her answering giggle made his bear sit up and really look at her. Damn she was a gorgeous mate, able to laugh at herself sometimes. The beast huffed and settled back into the depths of his mind as he drove.
“You think that she planted the curse in my sister’s room?” The note of disbelief in Michaela’s voice was like nails on a chalk board to Devlin’s ears.
“Not unless you regularly invite her over for tea.” Devlin sighed. “I do think that the mess in the forest is her fault somehow. Only thing that makes any sense…”
“Yeah, otherwise she’d have asked for help from the rest of the coven.” Michaela sighed. “She’d never ask me for help but… the others? Sure…” Michaela stared out the window. Devlin could smell the salty tears she was hiding.
“We’ll have to talk to her again.” Devlin’s grip on the steering wheel made the leather creak, and he had to focus to consciously loosen his fingers one at a time.
“Tomorrow. Maybe later, even. I need time—” Michaela waved toward town. “And Shaundelle can only watch the boys for so long. She feeds them sugar by the bucketful, I swear.”
Devlin nodded. “So, time to save the babysitter from rambunctious boys, huh?”
Michaela grinned and nodded. “Hope you’re up to the task, Agent Quinn.” Her bright-eyed wink sent his mind racing straight to the bedroom and what he’d like to do to her. Down, boy. We’ve got a case to solve and some boys to keep out of trouble. But his beast didn’t care. That wink was the red flag, challenging him to stake their claim now. Devlin gritted his teeth and held the bear back with a sullen reminder that they were still on duty.
The bear subsided with a rumbled promise to keep pushing until they got their mate. Not even Devlin’s silent reminder that they needed to focus to keep her safe was enough to silence the beast.
“You alright?” Michaela’s voice was soft, all hint of teasing gone.
Devlin nodded and steered carefully into the drive, parked with deliberate care in exactly the same spot they’d left earlier. His hackles rose as he sat for a minute to compose himself. Something was off, out of place. But what?
“Do you feel it? Something—” his voice was all growl and threat. He bit back the rest of his words when Michaela paled beside him. Her fear turned the air bitter and heavy to his nose. Damn. Something was wrong.
“Someone’s been here,” she pointed at the front door.
Devlin squinted, but couldn’t see anything out of place. The door looked closed tight. He couldn’t tell if it was locked, but it was in one piece, and unmarked by claw or tool. So what was his mate afraid of?
“I can’t see anything, Michaela. Tell me what’s going on.”
Instead answering, Michaela slammed the car door open and bolted for the porch. Whatever was wrong, it had to be bad. Devlin followed her, the beast rumbling threats and using every sense to search out threats. Not sight, nor sound, nor scent brought answers, yet his hackles still rose, and fear prickled up his spine.
The thud of his bulk on the stairs was sure to travel in the clear night air, but Devlin didn’t care. All his attention, his entire being was consumed by the fear and horror on Michaela’s face as she examined what looked like a twin to the pendant he had tucked away in a silk kerchief earlier.
Sh
it.
“Can you tell what it does?”
Michaela shuddered, and he could see goosebumps raise on her arm as she held the trinket out to him. “Nothing good. It’s … dark. That’s all I can tell.”
Devlin fished another kerchief from his pocket, mentally cursing himself for only bringing three of the damn things. He held it out and waited. Forced his hands to stay rock-steady as Michaela lowered the presumably cursed object onto the cloth. He folded the cloth carefully, and tied it shut with a solid knot before tucking it back into his pocket. He could feel a lightness in the air after the amulet was wrapped in silk. His skin crawled at the thought, but he had to ask.
“Are they targeting the boys? Or…” he trailed off. Maybe they were targeting Michaela? Shit, if that was the case, somebody was going to bleed. Buckets. His beast wouldn’t let that threat stand for one second once they found the asshole leaving curses laying out for folks to stumble on.
“Maybe. I…don’t know, Devlin. Could be they’re just tracking me or the boys. Could be something worse.” She threw up her hands and wailed, “I can’t tell because magic doesn’t work right for me.”
Devlin pulled her close and rocked her, gently shushing her as he did. The way she melted against him, trusting that he’d take care of everything in the moment made his heart stutter. Brave witch, brave mate, the beast concurred.
It took Devlin a minute to get just why the beast was so outspoken, but only that. And he had to agree. She had more courage than dozens of agents who were sent out to confront folks they actually had a hope of besting. Not sent out with one hand tied behind their back, magically speaking. All things considered, it was time to call in back up. After they made sure the boys were okay.
“You ready to go in,” Devlin brushed away her tears with his thumbs, planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “We have to make sure they’re alright.”
Bear My Soul: (Arcane Affairs Agency) Page 8