Gordon was the diametric opposite of Conner as he was apprehended. He didn’t spew an over-the-top monologue about his unhinged and nefarious plans, eyes alight with anger and malice. In contrast, Gordon’s eyes were gentle and innocuous. The small, hospitable smile on his lips as he was cuffed didn’t strike me as that of a person who would orchestrate such an attack or even ally themselves with the likes of Conner. Staring at the unmarked SF car as they drove him away, I couldn’t smother an unsettling feeling about him. Something was off.
That thought stayed with me as I returned to help Gareth. Grimacing, he had his hand over the bullet wound. Once I saw it was more than a simple flesh wound, I reluctantly dismissed thoughts of Gordon.
“Are you going to go to the Isles and let them look at it?” I asked.
“It’s fine.” He yanked a knife from his shoulder holster. My eyes widened when he stabbed it into his shoulder. I screamed. Not just any scream—a scary-movie, being-chased-by-a-person-with-a-chainsaw type of scream.
“Levy,” Gareth groaned, digging even farther into his shoulder, coaxing more screams out of me. “I’m the one with the bullet and knife in my shoulder,” he said as he rooted around for the bullet.
“And I’m the one who has to look at it. Stop that. What is wrong with you?” Finally I had the presence of mind to close my eyes, and after several moments I heard groans.
“You can open your eyes now.” I didn’t immediately, and when I did, there was a bloody mass of metal on the ground next to my knee. Bile tickled the back of my throat. I’d been injured enough that seeing my own wounds didn’t bother me too much, but watching a person dig a bullet out took things to a place I’d never go again.
“It’s not my first bullet wound. I’m a shifter. I’ll heal soon.”
“I won’t. I will be forever traumatized by that. Thank you.”
“You live with a person who’s dating a vampire. Surely you’ve seen him feed from her. How is this worse?”
“First of all, I suck-block all the time. If he so much as has a hungry-looking glint in his eyes, I’m there like bam, pow, block, and weave. I’m playing defense like an NFL all-star.” My skills had improved significantly over the weeks, which was why Savannah spent most of her time at Lucas’s. If I didn’t see it, I could pretend it wasn’t happening. “As for you—warn someone before you decide to remove a bullet. Okay?”
He rolled his eyes. “Levy, ten minutes ago, I was thinking about removing a bullet from my shoulder that was bothering me. You’ve been warned,” he said, flashing a roguish grin.
“No one thinks you’re funny.”
“I’m pretty funny,” he countered, resting back against the tree. He closed his eyes, and I watched as his skin began to mesh, the beginning of the healing process. “What’s with the look?” he asked, moving closer to me, taking in my brow, which was furrowed in concentration.
“It seems off—this whole scenario. You all questioned Gordon and were sure he wasn’t behind it. He wasn’t an extremist like the rest of them. He was rational and driven mostly by grief over the loss of his friend at Conner’s hands. Of all people, why would he work with Conner?”
“Maybe he didn’t know that Conner was behind his friend’s death.”
“That’s possible. But the total one-eighty in his personality is unsettling. He looks different. His eyes were blank, missing something, like—”
“Like Savannah’s,” he interjected.
“We still have some Culded. I think we should use the spell on him.”
Vacant eyes stared back at me from the other side of a double-sided mirror. Gareth stepped closer to examine Gordon through the glass. “I think you’re right, Levy. There is something different about him.” Gareth looked at the clock. “If you’re going to do it, it should be now before Alysa gets here or the police find out he’s here. I assure you, they won’t let him stay long, and it’s doubtful they’ll even prosecute and will instead cite some BS that they don’t have enough to go on.”
“Will you press to allow him to be tried in the supernatural courts?” I asked.
“Of course, but we haven’t been successful once. These last few weeks are going to require a hell of a spin.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Alysa’s voice now seemed too sweet and airy—too much effort placed on seeming innocuous. The magic breezing off of her served as a warning. Tensing, I shifted slightly when she took up a position next to me, watching Gordon through the glass.
“I’m disappointed that he was able to evade your staff. The fae aren’t as good as I was led to believe. Perhaps it’s time to recruit better,” she suggested.
“They are good. In fact, the best the city has to offer,” Gareth responded. His voice was as professionally cool as hers.
“I’m the best the city has to offer,” she retorted.
“And modest about it, too,” I mumbled.
Her mask of cloying smile, charming freckles, and gentle eyes dropped for just a fraction of time as she shot me a sharp look. “They hired me because they knew I could do the job. I am Harrah’s replacement because I can do what she could, perhaps even better. And I have no intention of meeting her fate.” The chill in her voice sent shivers through me. When they post the job, do they require the person to be devil spawn, or is it just a preferred quality?
“I don’t want him leaving here,” Alysa said. She slipped into the role of heartless harpy pretty easily. Was there an academy where they trained people like her?
“What do you propose we do with him?” Gareth asked.
“He’s dangerous. I propose you treat him like the extreme danger to supernaturals that he is.”
Moving closer to the window, I looked at Gordon, who still possessed the strong features, welcoming countenance, and relaxed persona that had catapulted his career. They made most people believe he was a shoo-in to attain any political position he chose for the future, and his humanitarian efforts had made him a legend in the city and a well-known name globally. I couldn’t believe that he was behind the virus. He was reasonable, not a radical with stark tenets. He was driven to take over Humans First only after his friend was killed.
Like Savannah, he seemed like a shell of a person.
Looking over my shoulder at Gareth, I said, “We need to do the spell—now.”
Alysa’s brows hitched up. “Spell?”
With a great deal of reluctance, I shared our thoughts about Gordon and our plans to use the spell to see if I could remove whatever Conner had done to him.
“If you are right?” Alysa asked.
“That exonerates him and you have the person responsible for the virus: Conner. There might have been someone else in the beginning, but I’m willing to bet anything that the moment he aligned himself with Conner, he sealed his fate. You might find a body, but that’s it.”
Alysa looked at me as if she was questioning Conner’s ruthlessness. If she was, she wasn’t as good as she thought and was too naïve to deal with someone like Conner.
“Conner doesn’t care about anyone except Legacy and Vertu and is perfectly content killing off every other supernatural. It’s to his benefit to do so. Kill off the very people who were able to break Legacy wards. Without magic to assist, the humans would have lost against the Legacy. Conner wants power and separation. The fewer supernaturals who exist, the more likely people are to acquiesce. At the threat of a war, humans would be more agreeable to segregation. It would give him an advantage of getting the Legacy and Vertu that exist to side with him. We would live our separate lives and procreate to increase our numbers. What do you think happens with the next Cleanse or even war?” I said.
“Conner’s a pain in my ass,” she acknowledged.
With a mirthless chuckle, I offered, “You’ve only been dealing with him for a few days. Wait until you’ve been dealing with him as long as I have.”
Gordon gave me a doubtful look as I explained my theory.
A light smile flourished on his lips and made i
ts way to his eyes. “You think that I am under the lure of magic and everything I’ve done is because of it.” Humor laced his words. Perhaps he did think my theory was utterly ridiculous, but I had a feeling this was the beleaguered protest of a man who had been in control of his life and didn’t want to think that his actions weren’t born from his own thoughts and desires. He’d rather think himself the type of person who would do something horrendous than be under the will of someone else, even if it was because of magic.
“If it’s not magic, then doing the spell won’t have any effect,” I said simply, grinding the Culded in a small metal bowl to make it into a dust as I’d done before with Savannah. Gordon split his attention between me and the people moving the furniture out of the way. As the commotion continued, he looked as if he were ready to change his mind about participating.
Seeing hesitation cast a dark shadow over his eyes, I didn’t give him a chance to say no. Whispering the incantation, I blew the flowery dust into his face, and he inhaled. In a matter of minutes, he was on the floor, sedated, his eyes moving busily behind his lids. The hours crept by, and when he awoke, there was a difference in his eyes.
When the smile fell from his face, I realized he probably also remembered everything he’d done under Conner’s influence. I couldn’t help but wonder if those memories were clear and explicit or hazy bits and pieces. It was something that Gordon quickly answered.
“I shouldn’t have met with him,” he whispered. Then he went on to describe his many meetings with Conner and how he’d help recruit people. Conner was there with each recruit, using magic to manipulate the situation. He’d used tactics I’d used before—implanting false memories and cognitive manipulation. They were illegal—well, illegal in the real world; the SG seemed to follow a different set of rules. But when dealing with Trackers, it was justified. I figured in Conner’s warped mind, cognitive manipulation and implantation of false memories were justified as well.
No one objected when the mayor, ignoring all protocol, called to request that Gordon be released. It was expected. What was surprising was Victor’s response twenty minutes after Gordon’s departure. I’d wilted into the corner of the office, hoping Alysa, Victor, or Gareth wouldn’t take notice of me and ask me to leave.
Victor scrubbed his hand along the stubble on his face, probably the result of long hours at the office dealing with Conner. “He’s a problem beyond redemption, and if you think for one moment he can be handled like anyone else, then you are foolish. He needs to be handled like any volatile weapon and destroyed.”
It took a great deal of effort to refrain from showing my enthusiasm. As much as I’d like to believe I was being covert, skulking in the corner, part of me knew that my presence was known. Victor’s gaze found me. “We need to be more diligent about the Legacy coming forth. We can’t allow this to continue. The way things are unfolding will open the path for another person like Conner. Once he’s gone, I don’t want another of his ilk popping up.” Pulling his attention from me, he turned to Alysa. “Please handle it as quickly as possible.”
With his last instruction, he started out of the office.
“And you will be handling…” Alysa started, knowing the answer by the determined look on his face.
“Conner. I will be handling Conner,” he said, without breaking stride.
CHAPTER 19
“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Kalen beamed, giving me a once-over. I’d been pulled, tugged, primped, and coiffed until I was almost unrecognizable. His stamp of approval confirmed that I looked like Barbie, innocuous, sweet, Legacy edition. I was itching to put my hair in a ponytail instead of having the loose curls brushing my shoulders. I took a quick look at myself in the mirror and saw what the makeup artist and stylist had transformed me into. A dark business suit might have seemed too portentous, so they’d opted for a light tan skirt and a pearl-colored shirt instead. I didn’t look like a powerful wielder of magic but something trite and palatable. It annoyed me. I’d agreed to the press conference and coming out on television, but being paraded around as the adorable person who “happened” to possess powerful Cleanse-evoking magic grated at my thinning tolerance.
Sensing my discomfort, Savannah sidled in next to me. “People are silly. Just do this, and after it’s over you can put that horrible plaid shirt and jeans back on. Why not give Kalen a conniption?” She pulled a slouch hat out of her purse and grinned.
“Conniption, he’s likely to catch the vapors and pass out at my assault on fashion.” I laughed, loud enough that it got Kalen’s attention. I held up the hat and made it seem like I was about to put it on when he donned an expression as if he was about to witness a horrific accident that he couldn’t stop. “Just kidding,” I mouthed, handing the hat back to Savannah.
“He’s so easy.” Savannah chuckled. “You seem to be having a better day than Elijah.”
My heart went out to him. It wasn’t as if he looked out of place in slacks and a dress shirt—they looked good on him. His clothing was nice and professional, but the scowl fixed on his face wasn’t. It hadn’t relaxed since Gareth had asked him to do the press conference with me. Victor, Gareth, and Alysa believed he and I would be good at it. I’d agreed with them about Elijah; his quiet power made him approachable and alluring. But his power didn’t seem so silent now. It was raging and he looked like a person who could start an apocalypse.
I wondered if it was the situation, or if he, like I had, figured this press conference had already been set up days before. It was hard for me to believe Alysa could have this all ready to go under eight hours after Victor had requested that she handle it. She’d orchestrated this faster than Victor would be able to get rid of Conner. There was more involved than just walking into Barathrum and destroying him. The Magic Council wanted to question him. I couldn’t understand why. What could they want from him that would justify keeping him alive?
Moving closer to Elijah, I brought my fingers in front of my face and drew them out, a gesture to tell him to smile. After several beats of silence and consideration, he ushered one onto his face with great effort: a peculiar mix of grimace, scowl, and grin. “Your smile makes you look like the Joker, the dark goth one. Not the one where you don’t know if he’s really the bad guy.”
I was immune to the eye roll. He and Savannah had hit it off nicely and were always giving me collective eye rolls whenever I commented about a comic book.
“This dog and pony show is ridiculous,” he huffed out, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt.
“Well, you two are the best dog and pony at this show,” Savannah said, giving him a playful nudge. He smiled—a genuine one—and I was thankful Lucas wasn’t around. He wasn’t a fan of Elijah, solely because of his comradery with Savannah. Lucas intimidated most people, but not Elijah.
“I thought they would send out a tweet or something,” Elijah grumbled.
“You couldn’t have thought that at all.” I laughed.
“Maybe not something that informal, but I didn’t think it would be this big of a deal.”
I agreed with him on that account. It seemed like Alysa could have just gone out and smiled for the cameras; fluttered her eyes a little; hit them with that kind, melancholy voice that elicited calm; given them an update on the state of the supernatural world and the alliance; and ended with, “By the way…you know the people who were responsible for the Cleanse and who we thought were extinct? Well, they aren’t, they’ve just been hanging out among you all. Okay, then. Good day to you.” Then she could have left without answering any questions and referred them to a website. This meant the press were going to demand answers, and no amount of questioning that Gareth, Savannah, Kalen, Blu, or Alysa had lobbed at us would have adequately prepared us.
When Savannah glared at the person approaching from behind me, I knew it had to be Victor. I was still upset with him for detaining me in Barathrum, but from the looks of Savannah’s flushed skin, steely gray eyes that homed in on him with unfetter
ed anger, and snarl that would make any shapeshifter proud, it was clear that she was planning on taking her grudge with her to the grave.
“Play nice,” I whispered to her.
Eventually a smile spread over her face, and it was obvious she was putting a lot of effort into it.
“Agent Victor Matthews,” she acknowledged in a sharp, cool tone.
Like any shapeshifter faced with a challenge, he mirrored her greeting with a cool undertone of authority. “Savannah Nolan, as usual, it’s good to see you.” He dismissed her as soon as he’d greeted her. “Are you nervous?” he asked me.
“No,” I lied.
My lie coaxed a half-smile from him and the same brow raise that Gareth gave me, a subtle reminder that shifters could tell when a person wasn't truthful.
“A little,” I amended with a frown. Elijah’s tweet idea was looking a lot more appealing.
Everything went smoother than I thought for the first ten minutes. The typical questions: “How many are there?” “Do you know how to do the spell that caused the Cleanse in the first place?” “How can we trust you all?”
Then there were the questions directed to Alysa about the supernatural community and what would be done to prevent the Cleanse from occurring again. She assured them that the Legacy had agreed to be braced with an iridium cuff that would diminish their magic significantly. I looked out at the crowd of people for anyone with a shifter ring to see if they bought the lie. It concerned Gareth that he couldn’t detect lies from Alysa. Her physiological signs stayed steady—even during times we knew she wasn’t telling the truth. Like now. I’d agreed to the brace; Elijah had refused. Conner’s words echoed in my head: how I was a “good little Legacy.” Was I? Or was I just pragmatic, understanding the tradeoff involved in us being accepted? A minor display of goodwill wasn’t that difficult and it would be even easier since the thin band they were requesting we wear wouldn’t do anything to stop our magic.
Rogue Magic Page 17