by Jane Kindred
Laurel was still glaring at her defiantly, daring Ione to challenge her. It dawned on her then that Laurel had said “your ancestress” not “ours.” Was it possible she didn’t know they shared the same father? Or did she believe the “contamination” had come only from their mother’s side? If what Carter had said was true, Laurel’s mother must have had the recessive gene. But that didn’t necessarily mean Laurel was aware of it. Carter would have used any information he had about Laurel to suit his own aims, which surely wouldn’t include sharing what he knew with his little protégé if it served him not to.
“If you don’t mind, I have work to do.” Laurel picked up the hose and looked like she might aim it at Ione. “I want you to leave, and if you or any of your sisters or coven members harass me again, I’m going to file charges.”
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Carpenter.” Dev took Ione’s arm to lead her out, but Ione shrugged him off.
“I want an answer to my question. What do you get out of helping Carter? Besides your wonderful, warm feeling of helping the less fortunate, of course. I can’t believe you’re committing these acts of terrorism just because you feel sorry for him.”
Laurel twisted the nozzle on the hose and water began to trickle out of it at her feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t terrorized anyone.”
“You’re going to stand there and tell me you’re not Nemesis?”
Laurel’s uncannily Phoebe-like eyes were unreadable. “A minute ago you claimed I was Lorelei Carlisle. Now I’m Nemesis?”
Ione let out her breath in an exhausted sigh. “You’ve made no secret of your feelings for my ‘unclean’ blood. You came to my Taizé service at the Chapel of the Holy Cross and gave a woman in the congregation a note that was signed ‘Nemesis.’ She described you to a T. And I’d be willing to bet with all the tourists constantly taking pictures in the chapel that someone will have evidence that you were there. All I’d have to do is run a quick image search for Holy Cross photos posted online in the past week. You said you were willing to do anything to help Carter, and someone is helping him with this campaign against my ‘impurity.’ It’s absurd to deny it.”
Laurel’s disconcertingly familiar eyes never blinked. “You have no proof that I’ve done anything but pass along a note to give to you. That’s not illegal. It wasn’t even a threat. So, yes, I admit that was me. But I’m not helping Carter in order to get anything. I’m helping him because he’s a dear, sweet man who’s been treated horribly by you and your precious sisters, and I believe in him. It’s also my duty to help him.” She lifted her chin proudly. “I happen to be his apprentice.”
Dev must have sensed the explosion of disbelief and rage about to erupt from Ione, as he took her firmly by the hand and turned her about, leaving the little room and Laurel Carpenter before it could happen. “This is one of those battles you must walk away from,” he murmured when she stiffened and tried to turn back.
She pulled her hand out of his as they entered the interior. “But she’s as much as admitted she’s Nemesis. We have her. We need to call the police and press charges against her for her threats.”
“Carter Hamilton is a dangerous, conniving necromancer, and he’s put this girl under his protection. We have to walk away. For now. We’ll figure something out.”
“He’s in prison,” Ione snapped. “What difference does his protection mean? If he had any real magic, he’d have done far worse than his stupid tricks. He’d influence someone, and he’d be out on the street. The only possible explanation for the magical attacks is that he’s trained her—and she has the advantage of my family’s blood.”
“Be that as it may,” said Dev patiently, “if we continue to accuse her, or if we even keep trying to contact her after she’s invoked the claim of apprenticeship with a member of the Covent, there will be consequences. And you’re in enough trouble as it is.”
They’d stepped through the front doors into the parking lot and Ione stopped and turned to stare at him in shock. “A member of the Covent?”
Dev rubbed the back of his neck. “Hamilton remains a Covent elder for the present. There are official procedures to formally revoke his standing and permanently expel him.”
Tears of anger sprang to Ione’s eyes. “He’s a murderer!”
Dev took her in his arms and drew her against him, despite the fists clenched at her sides. She resisted until the anger turned into despair and she collapsed against his chest.
“I know he is. I know, love.” Dev placed a kiss on her brow and kept his lips against her skin for a long moment. “And he’s not going to get away with it. The wheels of justice turn slowly, and the wheels of Covent bureaucracy make those wheels seem straight out of an installment of The Fast and the Furious.” Dev’s voice grew hard. “But he will pay for what he’s done. And if the Covent doesn’t see that it happens sooner rather than later, I may see to it myself.”
Chapter 19
The drive back to Sedona was silent. Ione was obviously full of conflicting emotions, and there was nothing Dev could say to help. Silence seemed the most respectful option.
He took comfort in the little pulses of their vibration that traveled between them like the rhythm of a heartbeat or a wave against the shore. He wasn’t quite ready to examine what it meant that they shared such a visceral connection. But he knew he wanted to pummel anyone who dared to hurt her. Well, maybe not Laurel Carpenter. She was being used and lied to by Carter Hamilton, just as Ione had been used and lied to by the filthy necromancer.
Though Laurel referring to Dev as Ione’s demon familiar had punched him in the gut. Hamilton had definitely seen him in the prison. The magic he’d invoked with the demon’s cooperation had the effect of throwing a “glamour” of invisibility, and the expenditure of magical energy had given him away. Which meant Hamilton definitely had access to power he shouldn’t be able to wield. Hamilton claimed to be in possession of another soul, and Dev was reluctantly inclined to believe him. But as brainwashed as Laurel appeared to be, Dev found it hard to believe she would commit murder for Hamilton.
She had access to the animal carcasses—and a willingness to desecrate them on Hamilton’s behalf. That much was clear. But murder...? It would be quite a leap for a young, idealistic woman who clearly believed her mentor innocent of the crimes of which he’d been convicted. Could Hamilton have committed a murder in prison? It seemed too far-fetched to imagine he could get away with such a thing with no one raising a hue and cry, even if he did have allies among the guards. And, besides, how could he possibly accomplish the ritual with the bones? No, more likely someone else on the outside was doing his dirtier work. And Laurel, perhaps, had been employed as their go-between. But whether she would go along with murder even if she herself wasn’t willing to commit it, well...that remained to be seen.
Dev glanced at Ione as he turned onto the rugged stretch of highway within the cloister of Sedona’s spectacular stones. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “When Hamilton said you’d been meddling in his affairs by throwing glamours...” Dev let the words hang in the air.
Ione turned her head away from the window at last. “That’s not exactly a question.”
He drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “Is there anything you want to tell me about that?”
Ione let out a sigh heavy with resignation. “The reason I’ve been going out in a glamour wasn’t to pick up hot British guys.” She gave him a wan smile. “I’ve been looking for the men who were part of Carter’s ride-along business.”
“Ride-along?”
“It wasn’t brought up in the case against him because there was no way to prove it, but Carter was using necromancy to allow men to purchase sexual experiences with prostitutes possessed by the shades he enslaved. Or, worse, to have his shades step into unw
itting victims so these men could take revenge on women who’d wronged them.”
Dev jerked the wheel and nearly ran off the road. “Christ. That’s...probably one of the most repugnant practices I’ve ever heard of. And I’ve heard some of the worst.”
Ione’s profile was grim. “He did it to Phoebe to take salacious pictures of her, and threatened her with releasing them. The good news is that I found some of the bastards the night before last. A couple of Carter’s cop friends, it turns out. I got the address of a little party they’re planning for tonight. They claim to have access to the spirit of a warlock and a girl who can channel him.”
“Tonight? On Samhain?” Dev shook his head in disgust. “Taking advantage of shades when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest.”
Ione nodded. “And I intend to call in an anonymous tip to the police and get them shut down.”
“Sounds like a splendid idea.” And he had a few ideas of his own. Dev slowed as they neared the turnoff to Ione’s street. “So what do you want to do now? Shall I take you home?”
Ione considered. “I should tell Phoebe what I’ve learned.”
“So...to Phoebe’s, then?”
After a moment she shook her head. “No. No, let’s just go home.”
He wondered at the meaning of that “let’s.” He couldn’t be sure if it was just an American figure of speech or whether she actually meant to include him. It was best not to assume. He pulled into her driveway and kept the engine running.
Ione’s eyes crinkled with that peculiar amusement he seemed to elicit in her. It did funny things to his internal organs. And some external ones.
“Aren’t you coming in?”
“Certainly, if you wish me to. I didn’t want to presume.”
“Yes, I wish you to.” Her smirking little smile and her emphasis on the word “wish” had that quality that made him certain she was mocking his Britishness.
She got out of the car as he turned off the engine, and Dev followed her in, not sure what to expect. They’d gone from intensely intimate to uncomfortably polite—and not so polite—so many times he couldn’t keep track. But Ione set the mood, taking him by the hand and leading him to the sofa.
She sat beside him, drawing her legs up onto the cushion, and curled herself against him. “I just want to be close,” she said as he wrapped his arms around her. He had no objection to the proposed activity.
Despite the best of intentions on both their parts, it didn’t last long. The vibration between them was simply too strong to ignore.
* * *
Ione played with the lines of Dev’s tattoo as they lounged in bed later, tracing the pentagram along the firm terrain of his upper abs. “So this keeps Kur in his cage.”
Dev tucked his arms behind his head, causing the muscles to contract into a tighter six-pack. “I couldn’t manage him otherwise. I couldn’t take a chance that he’d emerge and harm someone.”
She glanced up, studying the wary brown of his eyes. “Oh, I’m not judging. Just musing. Is he aware of what goes on...with you? Do you share a conscious connection?”
The corner of Dev’s mouth turned up. “If you’re asking whether he’s aware when I’m getting busy with a lady, that’s a question I rather doubt you want the answer to.”
“Really.” Ione raised an amused eyebrow. “Do you ‘get busy with the ladies’ often?”
The turned-up corner gave an amused twitch. “I sense that you’re mocking me.”
“You have a unique way of wording things.” She crossed her arms on his chest with a smile. “I won’t deny enjoying your peculiarities.”
“My peculiarities.”
“You’re very proper sometimes. And then you’re not.”
“Oh? When I have been improper?”
Ione shrugged, still thinking about Kur. “You drank out of my toilet, for one.”
Dev sat up, looking outraged, unseating Ione from where she’d propped her chin. “I did no such...” His voice trailed off and his face went crimson as the shared memory with the dragon apparently surfaced. “Oh, bugger me.”
“And there’s that very proper-sounding impropriety.” Ione grinned. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.”
Dev’s look of embarrassment changed to one of pensiveness. “It does seem to be.”
“Sorry?”
“You’ve had a couple of opportunities now—both having occurred while you were quite cross with me—to denounce me to the Covent for not disclosing what I carry within me.”
Ione shrugged, drawing up her knees and wrapping her arms around them. “It’s not your fault you’re bound to a demon.”
“Nor is it yours that you have demon blood in your veins. And it’s my fault the Covent knows about that. It’s my fault the Conclave is even here. And yet you haven’t said a word against me.”
“And I don’t intend to.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. It’s consideration I don’t even deserve. You’ve been incredibly kind—to both me and Kur.”
“I’m not trying to be kind.” Ione shrugged. “Just...fair.” The way Dev was looking at her was making her extremely self-conscious. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to the door to take her robe from the hook, wrapping the taupe satin around her.
“If you’re trying to be fair, showing me that bum and then covering it up simply isn’t.” Dev grinned. “But in all seriousness, I’ve been thinking about what Ms. Carpenter said.”
Ione tied the robe. “About what?”
“When she called me your familiar. Or said it of Kur, anyway.”
Ione felt the disheartening venomousness of the encounter creeping back over her. “I’m sorry, Dev. That was horrible. I’m sure it was Carter talking.”
“Well, yes. Obviously something she got straight from the necromancer’s mouth. But the thing is... I’m not sure she’s wrong.”
Ione squinted at him. “Come again?”
“That marvelous vibration we both feel when we’re in close proximity with each other. The connection we have that brought Kur out—and enabled you to put him back in before the warding destroyed him and me with him. It’s in the blood. Kur, if my old mentor Simon was correct, is as ancient as they come, a demon from pre-biblical times. As is the origin of Lilith.”
“So you think I’m somehow...”
“Genetically programmed to care for Kur—as he’s genetically programmed to obey you.”
“To obey me?”
“Perhaps ‘serve’ might be a better word. Quite frankly, I’m not sure what else could explain why he didn’t kill you.”
Ione rubbed her arms, unsettled by the idea that something in her blood controlled her responses—and Dev’s. “You think the magnetism between us is only about Kur then?”
Dev blanched. “No, no. Not at all.” He jumped up from the bed to come around to her side. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all.” Dev took her hand from her sleeve where she was nervously stroking the fabric and kissed it. “That frisson of electric energy when my lips touch your skin...that may be the part of my blood that is Kur’s recognizing the part of your blood that is Lilith’s. But my response to that energy, my body’s response to you...” Dev glanced downward with a slight smile. “That is mine.”
Ione’s cheeks warmed pleasantly. “But if it’s simply some biological predestination—like a pheromone...”
Dev shook his head. “Not a predestination. A predisposition. It doesn’t shape my desire. It merely draws me to you.”
“That and the fact that I smell like a sweet, gooey treat.”
Dev grinned. “A warm sweet, gooey treat.”
With a little smile she couldn’t suppress, Ione drew her hand away, not wanting to get further distracted from the
topic. “But about this ‘familiar’ business. You really think Kur is mine?”
“It seems the only plausible explanation for his immediate devotion to you. Whatever else Kur is, he is, in essence, a wild animal, not a tame beast. And he certainly has no love for humans—witches in particular. I’ve carried his seething rage inside me for nearly two decades, and his responses to people are unambiguous. He sees them as enemies. I’ve had to practice daily meditation just to be able to go about my business without sudden pulses of violent fury making me respond to slights in most unsociable ways.”
Dev sat on the bed and gazed up at her, and in that instant he seemed as vulnerable as a child. “But I feel none of that when I’m with you. I feel—Kur feels—safe.”
Part of her wanted to climb into his lap and tell him she felt the same. That the impulses she had to run away, to do reckless things like don glamours and have sex with strangers in parking lots, were quieted when she was with him. That she’d never felt so safe letting go and relinquishing control, calm in the knowledge that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her.
But the part of her that wanted to bolt was still whispering in her ear, reminding her that she’d been betrayed before. Like Carter, Dev had learned where she was most vulnerable. And, like Carter, he could use it against her.
Ione smiled. “Well, I certainly feel safe knowing he can’t get out without my help.” Casually she picked up her landline since the cell phone was still charging. “I should probably check in with Phoebe and see if she can find out what Laurel’s up to when she’s not at work or visiting Carter in prison.”
Dev blinked at her, looking somewhat dazed by the sudden change of subject. “You’re going to have Laurel followed?”
“The sooner we figure out how she’s helping Carter access his magic, the sooner we can stop her.”
“We have to tread carefully there. Technically she has protected status as Carter’s apprentice.”