Rogue Magic

by McKenzie Hunter

  “Do you know where she went?”

  “Yes, to the Shapeshifter Council’s office. They won’t let me see her, because she’s requested protection from us—from me.” The last words were laced with a mixture of sorrow and the anger of a person who wasn’t often denied. Lucas’s voiced changed, becoming more assertive. “Gareth, I need you to change that. Talk to them. I want Savannah back here with me.”

  Oh, that’s not going to work. Have you two met? Gareth, Lucas. Lucas, Gareth.

  That captured Gareth’s undivided attention. Abruptly he stopped searching his laptop to look at the phone. He gave it the same dismissive look I was sure he would have given Lucas if he was present. Gareth’s lips tightened into a thin line.

  I muted the phone. “Play nice. You miss Savannah; you think he doesn’t?” This was such a peculiar situation. Savannah, my annoyingly bubbly, clean-eating, neat freak of a friend had apparently managed to wiggle her way so firmly into Lucas’s heart that he’d forgotten himself. By the look Gareth was giving the phone, he was about to be quickly reminded of it.

  I waited a few more minutes, giving Gareth time to get some semblance of composure after being delegated duties by Lucas.

  Not in a million years would I have thought I’d have to give the head of the Supernatural Guild and the Master of the city each a timeout. When Lucas spoke again his voice was velvety smooth and even. “Is there any way you can get them to at least allow me to speak with her? I went there and they said that she’d asked for sanctuary.”

  That sounded serious and it was confirmed when Gareth sucked in a sharp breath and frowned.

  “They won’t let anyone see her if she’s requested sanctuary, and any violation will have dire consequences. Shapeshifters take that very seriously.”

  “Maybe she didn’t know the gravity of it. Maybe they need to understand that.” This time, there was pain. It weighed so heavily on my chest, I was having trouble breathing.

  “If we get the Culded, how can we undo the spell if we can’t get to her?”

  I wondered if Gareth was thinking the same thing because he grimaced and dropped back against the chair with his fingers clasped behind his head, concentrating. “I’ll see what I can do,” he offered after several moments of contemplation. There was uncertainty in his words, and if I heard it, I knew Lucas did as well.

  “Very well.” Lucas’s tone was curt as he hung up. Gareth took the phone from me and called him again.

  As soon as he answered, Gareth spoke, in a cool professional voice. “Despite your desires, you will need to let me handle it. At least I have a chance of reasoning with them. If you go, it will not end well.” There was a long pause, “I do mean not well for you. A request for sanctuary is taken as a very serious responsibility. Do not challenge them on it. I am asking you to let me handle it.”

  Lucas seemed to have gotten past his bruised ego. “I will. I just ask that you keep me informed of all matters.”

  Gareth ended the call, fell back onto the sofa, and let out a long string of curses. He even became creative with them, and dropped so many fucks he wasn’t going to have many more to give.

  “I don’t think she knew the seriousness of what she was asking.”

  “No, she did. That’s the thing they let a shifter know once they join the Council. It is drilled into all that it’s not to be asked lightly. She’s afraid, and we have no idea what Conner has put in her head so we can’t even determine if it’s unwarranted.” His lips lifted in a mirthless half-smile. “You saw the way she reacted to you. There is a real fear of you.”

  “Can you at least check on her?” I could imagine her waking up with Lucas, Gareth, and me over her, after I’d performed a spell while she’d been sleeping. I understood why she was afraid of us. I didn’t understand why she would request refuge from people who were virtually strangers. I hadn’t realized how much it was affecting me until I felt the solitary tear course down my cheek.

  Gareth leaned over and placed his hand over mine. “We should at least talk to them.”

  I couldn’t meet the shapeshifters in Gareth’s clothes, so we had to stop by my apartment for me to get dressed. I put on clothes and then sheathed the sai on my back.

  Gareth gave me a disapproving look. “Do you think you’re going to have to fight your way out of the place?” Incredulity and amusement twined over his words.

  “If I have to,” I shot back with a lot more confidence than I felt. Especially after getting a look at how entertained he was by his comment.

  The corners of his lips lifted into a rueful smile, and once again I was under his assessing gaze. He took in my casual attire of jeans, a peach shirt that was a gift from Savannah and her effort to “find the woman under the plaid,” and brown flats. I was sure I looked odd with a sheath on my back.

  “Where’s your bag?”

  My brows inched together. “Bag?” I asked.

  “Yes, bag. We had the discussion less than twenty minutes ago so I can’t imagine you have forgotten already. Remember, I suggested you leave some clothes at my house so we won’t have to make stops like this.” He was unsuccessful at hiding his irritation. Packing a bag had been heavily debated on the drive to my apartment and I couldn’t help but smile at his frustration with me. Gareth wasn’t a person used to having to debate his requests, and I had a strong feeling based on his reaction that I may have been the first woman to ever decline an invitation to keep clothing at his house.

  Perhaps it wasn’t a big deal to him—and it shouldn’t have been to me—but I hadn’t fully relaxed into a life where I didn’t have to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, move somewhere different, or lie low for a while. Gareth was foolishly optimistic about the smooth transition of the Legacy and Vertu into society. It would be easy to possess such positivity if you hadn’t lived through or lost anyone in the Cleanse.

  “I will. Later.”

  “Why put off something for later that you can do today?” His attention shifted to the hallway.

  Did he just use that pitiful platitude?

  I stood up taller, squared my shoulders, and fixed him with a hard stare. A display of determination that was wasted on a person who was the head of the Supernatural Guild and dealt with surly supernaturals on a regular basis. I was a novice trying out for a professional league.

  Gareth laughed when I blew out a breath so hard it made my lips rumble a little. It was a valid suggestion, and if I weren’t so stubborn, it probably wouldn’t have been such an issue. It didn’t take me long to fill an overnight bag with clothes, and I tossed in a toothbrush and a stack of graphic novels as well. I was putting in the latter when Gareth commented from behind me, “If you’re staying at my house do you really think you’ll have time for those? I’m betting that you won’t.” There was no need to turn around to witness the flourish of his smug and wicked grin; I could hear it in his voice.

  Keeping my back to him, I shrugged. “We make time for the things we love. Sometimes I might want to cuddle up with Wolverine, Rogue, Kitty Pride, and…” I turned, swooning. “I can’t forget Remy Etienne LeBeau.”

  “Gambit,” he offered. Baring his teeth in a wide smile, he licked his lips. “I’m more interesting than him, aren’t I?”

  “Your humility is so sexy. It’s taking everything I have not to rip your clothes off and take you right now,” I quipped back.

  He cleared the distance between us, grabbed my bag for me, and headed out the door. “Let’s pretend that was a joke.” His deep, rumbly laugh drifted down the hallway. “I can hear your eyes rolling,” he teased.

  Good.

  Sanctuary. I didn’t expect Savannah to be hidden away in a bunker or something that extreme, but when we had to give our names as well as show ID to the person manning the front gate before they would grant us entry, I realized it might be more like a secure fortress. For several minutes we were under the scrutiny of the shifter at the gate. He gave Gareth a quick once-over, but I garnered a great deal of his a
ttention. The shifter ring danced around his eyes as he examined me. It was apparent that what he saw wasn’t quite impressive. I wondered if he knew what I was, had heard the rumors, and had expected someone bigger than life. Perhaps it was a look of pity because he was aware of the reason for our visit and knew it would be unsuccessful.

  The long driveway led us to a three-level French provincial home. A steep conical roof, complete with a spire, made the grand, ostentatious house look more like a castle than a home in the suburbs. Perhaps estate was more fitting, given the thick flourish of bushes that formed a verdant barrier around the building. The wooden doors, although intricately decorated, looked very thick and probably heavy. The windows on the first floor were uncovered and double paned. They distorted objects and made it difficult to see what was inside, though I suspected occupants could probably see out. Then Gareth rang the doorbell, and within seconds a dusk-colored man answered the door. His smile was warm and welcoming but it didn’t extend to his chilly, chestnut-colored eyes.

  “Gareth,” he said, extending his hand in a greeting. Gareth took it and gave it a firm shake before the man moved aside to allow us to step in. He possessed a quiet strength and also, based on the way he moved, a smooth agility that he used to his advantage. He had Gareth’s six-five height by an inch or two.

  “Michael,” Gareth greeted him with the same warm tone. They were full of it. The nicety was just a display of dominance. Mine is bigger than yours so I can be cool and collected about it. Shifters.

  With Gareth to my right and the other shifter in front of me, I felt towered over. I didn’t like the feeling and moved a couple of inches away from them. The shifter gave me a sharp and hostile look, which made me glad I’d left the twins in the car. If simply moving agitated him, bringing a weapon into the house might be tantamount to an act of aggression.

  “I suspect your visit is about Savannah. I figured once Lucas was denied, he’d send his attack cat. No offense.” Michael bared his teeth.

  It doesn’t work that way. You don’t say super offensive things and think it’s okay because you add “no offense,” you jackass. No offense.

  Michael’s attention came back to me as he gave me a long, evaluating look. “This is her?”

  “Her” has a name, jackass. Once again, no offense.

  “Levy, I’m her best friend and roommate,” I said, working hard to keep my annoyance out of my voice.

  He nodded his head slowly. Gareth lifted a brow and his gaze traveled up the top of the stairs to the right. I followed it in time to see a whirl of blond hair as Savannah moved out of sight, probably into one of the numerous rooms on the top floor. I wondered if there was a little keep where she was housed.

  “She’s had magic used on her and her memory has been distorted. She requested sanctuary based on false memories,” Gareth informed him.

  Michael made a sound of dissent. “You all didn’t come to a place where she thought she was sleeping safely and attempt to perform a spell on her?” he asked with cool reproach.

  The silence swelled along with the animosity between the three of us. “I was trying to help her,” I explained.

  “By betraying her trust, which was already fragile. That’s an approach.”

  His sardonic response snapped my patience. “What exactly did you expect us to do? We didn’t have a lot of options.” My retort was fire-laced and definitely wasn’t helping the situation. Taking several calming breaths, I forced my voice to soften. “What options did we have?”

  Under his appraising look, I felt the flames of my irritation light once again. “Legacy,” he said as if he were tasting the word. A long drawl with a definite air of curiosity and disdain. “Is it true that you are one?”

  There was a list of things I’d rather do than play this game, but I needed to be amiable. He was the person standing between me helping Savannah if we got the Culded.

  “Yes.”

  His lips lifted into a small smile as his eyes sharpened on me. “Your magic can work against us—against shapeshifters.”

  I nodded.

  The same morbid intrigue and fear I’d seen on Gareth’s features the first time I’d used magic against him spread over Michael’s face.

  “Show me.”

  He didn’t have to ask twice. I was more than happy to accommodate him. A surge of magic came from my body, inching toward my finger, and vibrant colors danced along my fingertips. Gathering the magic into a ball, I held it. He eyed it as I eyed him. Curiosity skated along the sharp planes of his face.

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  He nodded, and the ball struck him. Not with as much force as I usually exerted, but he let out an audible gasp when it crashed into his chest and pushed him back several feet. He stood, straightened, and squared his shoulders. After several minutes, he was able to pull his rigid lips into a humorless smile. “Impressive,” he admitted in a flat, even tone. Despite his voice, I could see a tinge of aversion and poorly suppressed anger.

  Shapeshifters had warranted arrogance about magic because of their immunity to most of it. Their vulnerability to the Legacy was a reason there were so many shifters among Trackers. They wanted to rid the world of the only people who could use magic against them. Several long moments passed before he directed his attention to Gareth.

  “I understand her desire to help her friend, but Gareth, wouldn’t your time be better spent finding out who is responsible for the attack at the Solstice celebration? Lives could have been lost.”

  Gareth’s difficulty with diplomacy was noticeable. “I have an entire agency at my disposal, and the FSR is assisting us in the matter. But Levy and Savannah are the reason we had no casualties from the attack. Despite what you think, Levy’s motives aren’t entirely selfish. We have no idea what has been implanted in Savannah’s mind and whether she is willing to help if we call on her in the future. If she doesn’t, people will die if there is another attack.”

  Michael shook his head in consideration and remained quiet for several minutes. “I won’t violate her trust and allow you to do a spell on her without her permission, but I will do what I can to persuade her to see you.” He addressed me. “But anything she does will be of her own volition. You will not come here while she sleeps and do any spells on her no matter how confident you are that they will work. We don’t operate like that.”

  Gareth nodded in agreement. He didn’t look apprehensive or doubtful. He trusted the guy, which made me feel more comfortable.

  Before we could leave, Michael said, “Please let Lucas know that the same rules apply to him. I will talk to her on his behalf, but if she chooses not to see him, so be it. You might want to educate him that his power and influence don’t extend this far. I’d rather you tell him than me having to show him.”

  Well, that’s the politest threat I’ve ever heard.

  I waited until we were in the car and driving away from the house before I made a comment. “He’s rather intense, isn’t he?”

  Michael was dangerous—there wasn’t any denying that—but so was Gareth. At the forefront of my mind was how he’d dealt with his cousin, who was still a Tracker and the person he suspected was a traitor in the Supernatural Guild. He never went into detail, but the dark cast that moved over his face when he discussed it indicated it wasn’t anything good.

  “He’s actually one of the most reasonable heads they’ve had”—he flashed a grin—“since my tenure.”

  “Never miss a chance to toot your own horn, do you?”

  “I thought you would value honesty, but apparently you don’t. Fine.” He shrugged. “Michael can be persuasive when necessary. We’ll work on finding the ingredients for the spell and worry about getting to Savannah later. Hopefully we won’t have any problems. But we will get to her.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Elijah was already seated and drinking his coffee when I entered the café. It had been two days since he opted out of going with us to get Savannah. Appreciative of the help he offered i
n order to find her, I felt I’d asked enough of him and wasn’t in a position to ask for more. I took a seat across from him, but he continued to eye the door.

  “Are you waiting for someone else?”

  “Your shifter friend,” he said, his attention still on the door.

  “He’s not coming; did you want him to?”

  He shrugged. “I just thought he’d be curious.”

  “About our meeting?”

  “No, about me,” he said, smiling as he took another sip.

  I wasn’t sure how to take that. Was it a statement of arrogance or general curiosity about Gareth’s intentions?

  “I piqued your interest when we met; I figured that would bother him.”

  “I’m sorry, you can’t do that.”

  His brows inched together as he waited for me to continue.

  “The position is filled. I already have one arrogant Vertu in my life, I don’t have an opening for another. But once he’s gone, I’ll make sure to let you know of the vacancy.”

  Chuckling, he took another sip from his cup. “It’s not arrogance, it’s self-preservation. I figured your shifter would be concerned about you meeting another of your kind. There are so few of us, I know at some point you had to think about how we would preserve our species. That has to be among your considerations and reasons for us coming out.”

  I looked at the coffee bar.

  “Do you need a drink?” He stood to go to the counter to get me one.

  “Yes, but if we’re going to continue this conversation, I need something stronger than coffee. Too bad this isn’t one of the cafés that serve wine, too.”

  “I’ve upset you. Why?” he asked softly, returning to his seat. The earnestness in his voice made it clear that he was concerned—concerned about me.

  Sighing, I smiled—it was forced and mirthless but the best I could muster at the moment. “I’m not thinking about our lineage, increasing our numbers, or any of those things. My efforts to come out are nothing more than me no longer wanting to hide who I am. I no longer want to be the face of this horrible crime against humanity. My only goal is to have a normal life. I’m sorry, it’s not deeper than that. I’m not trying to start a Legacy and Vertu make-a-baby-campaign or dating site where we meet and procreate. My motives are simple. I don’t want to hide or be hated,” I confessed, exasperated. Why were people making things more complicated than they had to be?