Now or Never: Wizards of Nevermore

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Now or Never: Wizards of Nevermore Page 17

by Michele Bardsley


  Orley frowned. No one had mentioned what Kerren’s role would be in the new order. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that Kahl would give her any power at all. It had already been decided: Kahl and the Ravens would rule together.

  Kerren had no place in the new order. Everyone knew she was just a…a minion. She was Kahl’s whore—certainly not a queen.

  It was Orley’s turn to smile. He understood now why she had shown up. She was hoping to secure her position, perhaps by stealing his information. Wouldn’t she look useful and important if she were to tell Kahl about Gray’s transformative ability before he could inform the master?

  “I see your little thought hamster spinning in its wheel,” she said. “You think you have it all figured out, do you?” She laughed. “You really think you or any of the Ravens will have a place of equality once my husband enters this plane? You’re all suckers. You crack open that door and let him and his demon horde through. Whew. It’s all over. Demons don’t need humans. Trust me, cupcake.”

  Orley let his smile turn into a smirk. The Ravens weren’t stupid. A plan had already been put into place to ensure that Kahl kept his word and to keep the demon horde under control. The demon lord had no doubt underestimated his human cohorts. The Ravens would be the ones in control.

  Kerren backed away and put her hands on her hips. She wore a red dress that swirled at the knee, and a pair of red high heels. And the outfit matched the bloodred lipstick on her mouth. With her black hair and ice-blue eyes, she looked every inch the devil’s bride.

  Orley readied himself to access a defensive spell. Foreboding crawled around in his stomach like a nest of spiders. He couldn’t hope to defeat the half-demon witch, but all he had to do was stall her long enough to escape.

  “Don’t worry, Orley,” she purred. “You are serving a greater purpose—just as you wanted.”

  He drew in the magic and started weaving a protection spell while he waited for her strike.

  He expected magic.

  He expected demon trickery.

  But he did not anticipate the dagger.

  The simple, gleaming blade appeared in her upraised hand. She tossed it almost casually at him, and it embedded easily into his chest cavity, into his heart.

  The magic he’d called died instantly. He sank to his knees, his gaze on the cold bitch who’d killed him.

  Orley fell to his side, sucking in liquid breaths as blood filled his lungs.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll see you soon. We have in a special request for all Raven souls. You’ll make a spectacular addition to our ghosties.” She chuckled. “You know what? It’s so nice when you can kill two Ravens with one stone.”

  Before he could make sense of her declaration, the darkness caved in on him, and he took one last, shuddering breath.

  Chapter 12

  Emmett told them where the restaurant was located, and Norie felt so sorry for him that she invited him to come down later for dessert. Taylor nodded, but she knew it was a sacrifice for him to tolerate the boy’s presence. Emmett perked up and then headed off, waving as he hurried away.

  They were seated quickly, and it didn’t take long for them to order steaks, salads, and iced tea.

  “This is nice,” said Norie.

  “Yeah,” said Taylor. He cleared his throat. “You feeling okay?”

  “I am, thank you. How about you?”

  “Well, I got new tattoos, so there’s that.” He looked at his hands.

  “Everything that’s happened is so strange,” said Norie.

  “That’s just the way it is for folks in Nevermore. Used to be a lot more boring. Which I liked.”

  Norie laughed. “I can imagine that boring is better for sheriffs than…well, not boring.”

  “Damn straight.”

  It didn’t take long for the food to arrive, and they settled into a comfortable rhythm of conversation in between eating. It was a wonderful moment, one that Norie hadn’t experienced in forever. Taylor relaxed, and his smiles came more easily.

  “So, you live on a farm? But it’s not one anymore?” asked Norie.

  “Used to, sure. It’s just me and Ant now. I worked the land when I was younger, but when I got the chance to go to the police academy, I took it. Eventually, all my siblings moved away, and it just got to be too much. I had to choose between farming and law enforcement.”

  “So, how many Moorelands are there?”

  “Seven.”

  Norie goggled. “Seven?”

  Taylor laughed. “Yes. We grew up in what my mother called ‘happy chaos.’ ” His smiled faded a little. “She’s been gone awhile now. You want to hear something crazy? The other night I smelled sugar cookies. She used to make ’em all the time.” He shook his head. “The mind’s a funny thing.”

  Norie looked down at her plate. Sarah had made it quite clear that Taylor shouldn’t know she was hanging around as a spirit. Norie didn’t like keeping secrets from him, but neither did she want to admit she’d had a conversation or two with Sarah. She had a feeling that little bit of info wouldn’t go over too well with Taylor.

  “My mother died, too,” she offered. “It leaves a hole inside you. Nothing can quite fill it.” She reached across the table and took his tattooed hand. She felt a sudden, tingling rush of electricity, and she gasped. She and Taylor stared at each other.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I…don’t know,” she said. She withdrew her hand, and the energy surge faded into vague tingles. “Maybe your magic affects mine.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I have powers. I don’t even know how to make them work. And I don’t really feel different, either.” She looked at him. “When something changes you so significantly, shouldn’t you feel different?”

  “Seems like,” said Taylor. His gaze flicked over her shoulder, and he took on a pained expression.

  Norie looked behind her and saw Emmett eagerly making his way toward them. She hid her smile. Then she glanced at Taylor through her lashes. She wondered what it would be like to have dinner with Taylor every night—to be there when he got home from work, to talk about their days over meat loaf and mashed potatoes and apple pie.

  Oh, how she wanted that.

  And she thought, maybe, maybe she could have it.

  With Taylor.

  * * *

  It took nearly three hours for Gray to follow the sketchy trail started with one vague prophetic reference. He’d gained some assistance from the soul books in the Great Library, although not all of the tomes were helpful, especially as he got into the older sections. Some of the books hadn’t had a real human to speak to in years and simply wanted to converse—without sharing any useful information. At the end of his search, though, he’d found exactly what he needed. And it wasn’t all good news, either. Actually, he wasn’t sure any of it could be called good news.

  He found Taylor, Norie, and Emmett in the embassy’s twenty-four-hour restaurant. The embassy worked like its own city, and it never ceased operations. It was almost like Las Vegas except without the gambling and desperation.

  “Hey, Emmett,” he said as he sat down. “Can you give us a minute?”

  Emmett nodded, his adoring gaze sliding toward Norie. Norie was peeking at the sheriff through her lashes while sipping a cup of coffee. The discarded plates with smears of devoured food—and was that cheesecake?—made Gray realize he hadn’t eaten in a while.

  The young wizard said his good-byes, then left.

  Gray made a space for the book he’d checked out from the Great Library. Luckily, it wasn’t a soul-imprinted book, just a very, very old one. He had almost had to promise his life’s blood in exchange for taking the dusty little guide. He opened it to the appropriate page and then looked up.

  “Good news first,” said Taylor, eyeing the book with distaste. “I’m kinda tired of bad news.”

  “Sorry,” said Gray. “I’m afraid it’s almost all bad.”

  “What’s the almost good news, then?” asked N
orie.

  “Oh.” Gray sucked in a breath. “You know how we discussed the flexibility of prophecies?”

  She nodded. “And the written-in-stone kind.” She frowned. “I take it whatever you found isn’t one of the flexible ones.”

  “It’s been around for centuries. I don’t know where the Ravens found a version, but I have no doubt they did. It’s not as though there’s only one source. Usually prognostications are referenced in multiple resources, mostly to ensure their longevity. The prophet was Nelos—an ancient Greek thanaturge.”

  “Like me?” asked Norie. She shook her head. “Wow. Still can’t wrap my brain around that.”

  “You’ll probably need to absorb it all as quickly as you can. My guess is that the Ravens might’ve known about you for a while.”

  “So, they bound her powers?” asked Taylor. “How come you and Ember and the others didn’t realize Norie was a magical?”

  Gray shook his head. “I don’t know. She seems to attract the attention of necros.”

  “Emmett isn’t a necro,” said Taylor sourly.

  “But he’s studied it,” said Norie. “He knows a lot about it.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” admitted Gray. “I don’t think the Ravens bound her powers. And my guess is that they only recently discovered she was an asset, and was protected and controlled accordingly.” He sent Norie an apologetic glance. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to talk about you in the third person.”

  “I almost prefer it,” said Norie. “Then it doesn’t sound like this person is really me.”

  “I’m afraid it is you,” said Gray. He tapped the book. “I don’t understand the whole thing.…Hell, I don’t understand most of it. But here’s part of it:

  Goddess renewed

  Through two born

  Under the stars of Raven sky

  Dark One revealed

  Through virgin’s blood

  Under the stones of ancient earth

  Magic reborn

  Through the key’s touch

  Under the skin of one burns truth

  “I think we’ll need Ember to help with the translations. Anyway, it seems pretty clear that it’s you.” He cleared his throat. “Another part of the prophecy mentions…er, virginal blood. Again.”

  “Oh,” said Norie. “Oh.”

  She ducked her head, and Gray could tell she was blushing. Shit. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, though there was hardly a polite way to ask about a potential sacrifice’s sexual status. He glanced at Taylor and grimaced. Had his friend been capable of magic, Gray would be a pile of cinders right now. “Look, we don’t have time to play getting-to-know-you in a classy way. I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Gray felt he was apologizing too much for crap that wasn’t his fault. Still, it wasn’t Norie’s fault she was the gateway to Kahl’s permanent entrance onto the earthly plane. It was damned difficult to be circumspect about this situation, though. They had, maybe, a couple of days to figure out everything, save Norie, save Nevermore, and oh yeah, save the world. And if it could all be done without telling his mother, that would be a bonus.

  “I’m a virgin,” said Norie. She faced Gray, her face still tinged red. “Not on purpose.” She swallowed heavily and slanted a look toward Taylor. “It’s…complicated. The short version is that I’ve been unable to…um, complete that act. I can’t explain why, just that…anyone who’s ever tried ended up hurt. Needless to say, my dating life has been nonexistent.”

  Gray thought Taylor looked a little too pleased about that last statement, but he ignored the sheriff’s foolishness. He knew too well what it was like to fall in love and to have it fuck with your brain. In fact, love still fucked with his brain—but he wouldn’t give up Lucy for the world. So, yeah, he understood where Taylor was coming from. They had to keep their heads in the game, though, or their world would have a lot more demons in it. And demons didn’t give a shit about love, or about anything, really.

  “Maybe you should read us the prophecy, or at least sum it up,” drawled Taylor. “That way we can at least start formulating a plan.”

  “I think it’s better if we get everyone together,” said Gray. “Preferably without my mother’s knowledge.”

  “Why not include her?” asked Taylor. “She might know a lot more about Nevermore’s past than she’s revealed. You ever ask her about the Goddess fountain?”

  Surprise bolted through Gray. “No. You know my mother, Taylor. She’s…overwhelming.”

  “She’s powerful, and she’s smart. I know you’re dreading what she’ll do when she meets Lucy, but she’s a class act. We need all the help we can get.” Taylor blew out a breath. “Besides, there’s no way in hell you’ll be able to keep this from her. She’ll sense the change in Nevermore’s magic in one second flat. She might even sniff out the nemeton all on her own.”

  Gray put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I’ll introduce her to Lucy and then say, ‘Hey, Mom, you wanna help us stop Kahl from taking over the world?’ ”

  Taylor chuckled. “That ought to do.”

  “Then I guess it’s back to Nevermore, and a morning meeting at Ember’s,” said Gray. “It’s after midnight now.” He looked at Taylor. “You afraid of flying?”

  “You’re shitting me.” Taylor looked aghast at Gray’s suggestion.

  “It’s three hours in the car or an hour on ‘Dragon Airlines.’ ”

  “What are you guys talking about?” asked Norie. “I’ve never heard of Dragon Airlines. Is it local?”

  “Yeah,” said Taylor on a groan. “Real local.” He pushed back from the table. “We’ll need to bundle up and maybe find some pillows. It’s gonna be cold…and scaly.”

  Norie turned a quizzical look to Gray. “He didn’t drink a drop of alcohol with dinner, I swear.”

  “You’re gonna wish you did,” muttered Taylor. He gave Gray the stink-eye. “Me, too. Well, the SUV isn’t gonna fit no matter how big your ass is, and I need it for work.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” said Gray. “I’ll make sure it’s returned to you tomorrow.” He closed the book and handed it to Taylor. “Hold on to that. If we can figure out what it all means, it might offer the answers we need.”

  “Why does this magical crap always have to be so complicated?” asked Taylor.

  Gray knew his friend was just showing his nerves about the upcoming trip. He grinned. “Because it’s the best way to annoy the mundanes, of course.”

  In the dark vault hidden beneath the Dragon embassy, the magically locked case housing the Colt. 45 snapped open. The gun was removed, and the one holding it leaned close to the gleaming metal and whispered, “Our task is not done. To Nevermore, my old friend. To the next one who deserves punishment for breaking vows. For breaking hearts.”

  Together, the gun and its keeper faded until nothing remained but darkness and grief.

  “Hello?” Happy’s voice echoed into the dingy recesses of the barn. The early-morning light barely penetrated the dark interior. Like knives of burnished gold slashing leathery flesh, the slashes of light added to the weirdtastic vibe of the place.

  She’d entered through a hole created by missing boards and had walked only a few feet. Now she stood ankle-deep in moldy hay, wondering if she should venture any farther. This place was where her own father had cursed her. She hated it there. Why would Ant ask her to meet in the one place he knew she couldn’t stand?

  It wasn’t like him.

  On the way there, it had occurred to Happy that maybe she had somehow become part of his testing. She didn’t want him to fail, not really, so she figured she’d show up and be the good girlfriend. Well, almost girlfriend. As she turned in a slow circle and listened to her own labored breathing, she got a bad feeling in her gut.

  She felt the tingles that indicated recent magic. It was a real bummer that she could sense magic but not use it. It wasn’t exactly an awesome gift. At least, she hadn’t found much use for it. But she could defin
itely feel that something magical had gone down recently.

  Maybe the testing for Ant had already happened? Sure. Elandra could’ve dragged him there and made him do some more stupid tricks. He could already be waiting for her. But why wasn’t he calling out to her? Or at least doing some kind of magical woo-woo so she’d know he was around?

  Her heart started to pound. She could be naive, and she knew it. She’d experienced enough ugly in the world to understand its follies, even though her youth kept her from getting too jaded. She had hope, and faith. At least that was what Ant and everyone else were always telling her. Sometimes, she didn’t know if it was her own thoughts in her head, or the voices of all the people trying so hard to guide her.

  That really bad feeling pulsed in her gut like an ancient drumbeat.

  “Ant?” she called out.

  Her voice echoed across the barn, boomeranging back to her in a lower, softer tone. Goose bumps pimpled her arms. Okay, that was creepy times twelve. She scuttled forward, peering into the interior of the barn. If she went forward, then she’d be close to the spot where her father had given her his curse. He hadn’t cared if she lived or died.

  In the end, he’d been the one to die. And she wasn’t sorry. Not after what he’d done to her mother and to Lucy. He could burn in hell as far as she was concerned. She hoped his soul was being flambéed daily by the Dark One.

  Happy sucked in a breath and marched forward. She wasn’t a coward. And she wouldn’t let herself be terrified. She’d survived death, after all. Not many people could claim that they’d died and returned. She didn’t actually remember very much about dying, or where she was while Lucy was saving her. She’d had a vague feeling of floating, of feeling light and at peace. Then again, she’d thought about it so much, she was probably just adding touches to the experience, in case anyone asked. It seemed to her that no one wanted to know—not even Trent, and he was a necromancer. She supposed it was because everyone was there and had witnessed her death. Ant had described seeing her soul “bobbing in the air like a cork floating in a creek.”

  What the—

 

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