by Mark Henwick
Slowly pieces were being put together.
As far as Diana and Alice were concerned, they’d known for some time that I carried a family curse. I had to backtrack for the Hecate and Gabrielle.
It’d been Tullah’s mother, Mary, who first told me, although she’d been vague. She’d said I had a working hidden deep inside me and that it might be for good or evil, blessing or curse. I hadn’t really believed it, even when I’d had dreams where my grandmother, Speaks-to-Wolves, had called me cursed and blessed.
Then Alex had compiled a chart of our branch of the Farrells since arriving in America. Every single firstborn had died, either in birth or infancy. I’d lived because my twin, Tara, had been delivered moments before me.
So cursed, clearly. Not blessed.
I’d put it all aside: as an Athanate, I couldn’t have children. The curse would not be passed on.
But what if this power I’d been using came from the curse? What if it was like Weaver’s workings, and capable of adapting to circumstances? What if it decided my generation hadn’t paid enough of a price? What if—
“Amber?”
I blinked. Zoning out was not a good thing to be doing today.
“It makes a kind of sense if the power is actually from the curse,” I said. “I don’t understand how, but it is dark magic, isn’t it?”
The Hecate disagreed. “There is no dark magic, or all magic is dark. All power carries its own potential evil, and the stronger the power, the stronger the potential.”
“But it is dark,” I said. “This power—it’s all about hate and anger and pain.”
“I’ll give you that, but the negative associations of ‘dark magic’ come about because darker emotions are easier to arouse and harder to control in a positive way.”
“So you’re saying Amber could use anger as a resource for a working that produces a good outcome?” Flint said.
“Yes.”
“But it’s easier to align an outcome with the emotional power of the working,” Kane said. “It’s easier to kill someone if the power you’re working with is based on hate.”
“Easier, yes. I don’t want to get into semantics about what a ‘good’ outcome might be, viewed from opposite sides of a conflict,” the Hecate said and waved the arguments away. “All magic can be used for evil. All magic can be destructive. All magic can be addictive. The greater the power, the greater the potential.”
She sat back down and continued:
“All of this is extremely dangerous for Amber; she’s untrained and she’s been damaged. At any other time, I would recommend rest and healing, but we don’t have that time. Weaver wanted to use Amber to find Tullah because they’re close, but he can use others in the Denver community, and he will. He’ll be looking for Tullah right now. If he catches her, and finds the dragon’s not with her, he’ll use her as bait, physical or magical. He will make Tullah Kaothos’ weakness.”
She stopped, and there was silence for a minute.
“Tell me, Hecate,” Diana’s voice sounded flat coming from the speakers. “Are you committed to restoring Kaothos to Tullah?”
“Yes,” she replied without hesitation. “They belong together. Any other arrangement weakens their power.”
“And after that?”
“We can talk about how we proceed,” she said smoothly. “I agree with you and House Altau that Emergence is coming. As timely and clever as Skylur’s human-facing policies are, there are things the Athanate are not doing, or are not fully aware of, matters we’ve touched on today. Things that are as important as Emergence. The Assembly needs to work with the Northern Adept League.”
Another long silence.
“Bian, bring the Hecate to Haven,” Diana said.
“Diana—”
“I’m aware this breaches Skylur’s security orders. He’s not here. Do it on my authority. Bring Amber and her Adepts as well.”
I took a break while Bian grudgingly argued the details with the Hecate.
Chapter 39
I went to the downstairs study.
Just a couple of months ago, this had been where my private investigator business had been based; where Jofranka, Tullah and I had worked.
I sat at my desk for the first time since Tullah had kidnapped me and taken me off to New Mexico. It felt strange. Smaller. Like visiting somewhere I’d played as a child. Yet I could clearly remember thinking how complicated my life had gotten back then.
There was no business left; it had been transferred to Victor Gayle’s security firm, so the top of the desk was clear except for my photos and mementoes.
Dad and me. Top and me. And Tara’s plaque.
I picked the plaque up. It was dusty. I hadn’t taken it with me to New Mexico. That was hardly my fault, since I’d left unexpectedly. But I hadn’t asked for it to be sent to California while I was there. Because Tara was gone. Hana was gone. And this plaque would have been a brutal reminder of that.
Now I knew where they were.
I took a tissue from a drawer and gently wiped the dust off.
It was a very plain plaque. Jet black granite, a little larger than my hand, glossy once it was clean. Cursive letters in the bottom right-hand corner, in a style I’d imagined my sister would have used for writing, spelled out her name. Tara Farrell.
Before the battle at Carson Park, any reflective surface used to be good for talking to my twin sister. Any mirror or shiny surface like the plaque, I could look into it, see my reflection, and know that’s what Tara would have looked like. And I’d talk to her, just like anyone with a twin sister would. She’d talk back.
How crazy am I?
The lights in the room were off and the blinds were closed. I could see myself only as a shadow on the surface of the plaque.
Me. My shadow. Not Tara.
I knew Tara was some special part of me, and we were supposed to be together. Chatima, the powerful shaman down in New Mexico had told me as much. She’d spoken to Tara and Hana. She’d called Tara Sky-fallen. She’d given me the necklace; Tara and Hana had helped me understand the messages woven into its structure. The same messages that had unlocked the ritual and saved the lives of hundreds of Were.
Our ritual? Our magic?
What had Tara said?
We’re not the flame. We’re the wick.
As if we didn’t actually do magic—we were simply a channel for magic to happen. Or a catalyst.
And that was fine.
But now, whether I could manipulate it or not, there was this power I had access to. My power. Dangerous power. A curse I’d somehow found a way to tap into. A Celtic curse on my family? Why? Who was behind it? I didn’t know, but as for using it, I was the woman who licked knives, as Yelena said.
The talk upstairs had been about inhibitions and compulsions and psychological structures.
I’d probably always had some slightly odd mental structures. What had happened at school, and afterwards in the army, had damaged them. I’d always been a risk-taker, adrenaline junkie, and someone who operated on gut instincts. Then in short order I’d become Athanate, werewolf and some sort of Adept. And rogue.
Now it had been all topped off by Weaver’s working attacking me.
Which the power of the curse had helped me defeat.
I had to acknowledge that using this power was dangerous. I could feel it already—the little scratching beneath the surface of my mind, telling me that I could use it to do this and that. I could fix things. It would be so much easier if I accepted it. Learned to use it.
For all the Hecate’s calming theories, I knew Kane’s view was closer to the truth for me. I couldn’t use this power for good. It was too focused on negative emotions and too strong. In the end it would overwhelm me. Not its fault, not my fault, just the way things were.
Tolly’s warning: stay away from magic.
Shadows seemed to stir on the surface of the plaque. I tried to focus on what lay behind the shadows, the sounds and images that would help me. Al
l I could see were more shadows, and hear my own voice murmuring and echoing words.
I am lost; I have no guide but myself.
I am none of the things they think I might be.
I am the sum all I’ve ever done, all I ever will do, and all that has been done to me, or ever will be done to me.
I blinked. There was a choice and yet there was no choice at all.
Tullah, Tara and Hana. Getting them back was all one task now. And it was urgent. Kaothos might be able to move back to Tullah, but Alice’s research suggested Tara and Hana wouldn’t be able to move back to me.
I needed them back, whatever the cost.
If I had Tara and Hana back, if I was whole, I might stand a chance against the insidious power of the curse. And yet to get them back, going up against the powerful Denver community using weapons I didn’t understand and with allies I barely knew, I might need to use that same power. Which would mean it would get a hold on me.
How would it end?
I could easily die without even finding Tullah. Or the power could overwhelm me. What then? Become like the Lyssae? Was that the real threat behind Tolly’s warning?
Enough. My fangs stirred. I bit my thumb and pressed it to the edge of the plaque.
I was going to find Tullah and Tara and Hana. I would use whatever I could. Even the power, the curse, whatever its threat was. On this, I gave my blood oath.
Before that, in whatever little time left before Bian and the Hecate reached an understanding on security issues, I had people to call.
Chapter 40
Alex first. He was in El Paso, taking the loyalty oaths of the rest of our new pack. Our pack. I should be there. I could imagine the questions they were asking about me. The whispered comments when Alex was out of hearing.
She’s not a real alpha they’d be saying. Can’t be mated with Alex. Did you hear about the way she was behaving at that club in Denver? And later at the factory with that alpha from Albuquerque?
Cast-iron certainty: there would be problems from what had happened last night.
None of which I said to Alex. I downplayed what happened after he left the factory. It was bad enough I wasn’t down there with him; it’d be a disaster if he stopped to return here because of me.
I had to tell him about the El Paso renegades, and how I’d run them out of Colorado. It would have been a whole lot neater if I’d gotten their names at the time, but Alex approved anyway.
His growl over the cell phone reached down into me and I let him talk on for the pleasure of hearing his voice.
He had a lot to say about his complex task down in Texas. He couldn’t just uproot the entire El Paso pack overnight. Like any pack, the members were embedded into the human society around them. There were houses owned, contracts for employment or business, obligations, friends and families outside of the pack. All of which needed careful management to disentangle.
Then, as he sent them north, the new arrivals in Colorado would need organizing on this side as well. Skylur had offered support, and Bian was happy having them temporarily in Haven, but they’d need jobs and places to live, and they’d need them quickly. Someone had to push the right buttons at the right time.
All of which was exactly the sort of thing I should be arranging, as the Denver-based part of the alpha team.
“That’s what I need to do then,” I said.
He was quiet for a moment. “It sounds like you’ve got your work cut out already.”
“I have, but this is our pack. I can’t be down there with you now, so I have to fix that as much as I can, where I can. That’s here, in Denver.”
“Our pack.” His voice was quiet. “Still hits me when you say it. But it is our pack.”
“You know how I feel, because it’s the same thing you feel. Leave this end to me.”
“You sure?” His voice slowed. “I was thinking of asking Zane for some help.”
“I’m sure.” My heart skipped a beat. Despite the fact that they’d be cooperating under orders from Felix and Cameron, for Alex to come right out and ask for Zane’s help like that was... awkward, in an alpha sense. Whether they wanted it or not, there would be dominance issues coming from such an appeal.
And I didn’t want Zane up here before I’d had a chance to talk to Alex face to face about last night. That had dominance issues that made the other pale in comparison.
Naturally, we could ask Felix for help. There were still lots of members of the Denver pack in Colorado. That was the sensible option, but neither of us was suggesting that. In werewolf terms, it was even worse—like admitting to our alpha we couldn’t handle the task. That we didn’t deserve to be alphas of a big pack.
That was why Alex was thinking Zane was the better choice of two bad ones.
“Leave Zane out of it,” I said, more confidently than I felt. “I’ll find a way to handle the pack in Denver. Don’t know what I’m gonna do yet, and I may not give them exactly what they want, but they’ll get what they need.”
He growled again, and this time I could hear the undertones. He was pleased I was going to manage the Denver end of the transfer, that we’d sort this out ourselves.
He didn’t ask for details, fortunately, because I didn’t have any.
And he was missing me already. I got that undertone too, raising the hairs on my arms and making me shift pleasurably on my chair.
Down girl.
“I’m visiting Haven today,” I said. “I’ll take it as an opportunity to talk to the ones that are there already.”
“Okay. There’s only a handful there. I’ll send you a list by text. They’re mainly youngsters.”
“I understand.” I could sense in my gut the sort of decision he’d had to make about who to take back to El Paso with him. He’d have taken any of Caleb and Victoria’s lieutenants, any senior werewolves and any who needed to get back to El Paso for employment or business reasons. Regardless, it would leave the ones staying in Colorado feeling a bit abandoned and rootless.
I’d have to fix that.
“All of them know you’re the boss,” he was going on to say. “I’ll be up in a couple of weeks with the second batch, and I can’t promise the same of them. They’ll have given me their loyalty, but...”
“Yeah, I’ll have to bite a few of those necks, alpha style,” I said. “Got it. How long until they’re all here?”
“They’ll be trickling up for months,” he said. “I could probably leave them with a lieutenant to sort them out in a month’s time, but Felix and Cameron need a replacement pack in El Paso. I’m going to have to be around at least some of the time to help with that.”
“Have they chosen a pack?”
“Not yet. By the way, you are going to call them, aren’t you? I’ve already had one snarly text.”
“I’m on it,” I said. “You spoken to Jen?”
He growled: “You know that woman is stealing my company from under me.”
I laughed. “Yeah. And? You spoken to her?”
“I got three whole minutes between two meetings.”
“Good. And she’s not stealing your company. She’s getting her people to run it while you’re in El Paso.”
He chuckled. “Yeah. That’s what she said.”
“She’s got your back, hotshot. We’ve got your back.”
“And I got yours.”
It felt good to hear him say it, and I wasn’t done talking to my husband, so the polite knock on the door was not a welcome interruption.
“Yes?” My voice came out as a snarl. “The door’s open.”
Rita came in with that cougar-prowl way of walking. She was dressed to go out.
“Apologies for interrupting,” she said. “Bian will be down soon to take you to Haven anyway.”
The sound of Alex’s laughter came from the cell. “We’ll finish another time,” he said. “Love you.”
He ended the call.
“Bian could have interrupted me herself,” I said to Rita. “What’s up?”<
br />
What crisis now?
“Tove asked if the two of us could go out shopping,” Rita said, and shrugged. “I don’t think you’ll need me at Haven, and it’ll get Tove out of your hair for a while. Keep her from brooding. It’s a fair request, too. She’s wearing other people’s cast-offs. I wanted to check with you.”
I laughed.
Big crises and little ones all together. All the time.
“She’ll need some money,” I pointed out, and went to the safe where I kept cash. “You know she’s not aware of us?”
“She’s aware,” Rita said. “Just doesn’t know the details.”
“And she’s a recovering addict. I’d like her to keep recovering.”
“Yeah, I got that. No sneaky little side-trips to pick up some gear.”
“Okay.” I started counting out some bills. “Why do you think she picked you to go shopping with? Just out of curiosity.”
“We’re both outsiders.”
I frowned and stopped counting. “You’re not an outsider.”
“Well, less than her, I guess, but I only got here last night.” She shrugged and then folded her arms. “She said she liked my clothes.”
She was embarrassed that Tove had complimented her style? I added a couple more big bills. Dressing like Rita was a whole level more expensive than dressing like me.
“Then she has good taste,” I said. “Next to Jen, I think you’re the most elegantly dressed woman I know.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
Now she was embarrassed and pleased. I liked the ‘boss’ too.
I wasn’t quite finished. “Take Lynch.”
“Shopping with the girls?” She grinned. “Okay, but he won’t thank you.”
“Take one of the guards as well. Lynch can treat it as training for how to provide security.” I sighed. “As much as I love that you’ve come here, you need to understand that being around House Farrell isn’t going to be safe. You’re going to need to be aware of threats all the time.”