“Can you tell us why your magic went … awry?” I asked.
“It didn’t. Not really. It was just intense and out of the blue.”
“And you normally have trouble getting it under control? Or mitigating its effects?”
Another glance passed between the twins.
“No. Not for a long time, I guess.” Peggy twisted a large moonstone ring on her left index finger. Gabby wore the same ring on her right index finger, making me wonder if that indicated the twins had different dominant hands.
They spoke with American accents, completely different from Angelica Talbot’s. Gabby’s intonation was more abrupt, while Peggy had a softer, smoother tone.
“I have a brown spot in my left eye,” Peggy said. “If you’re trying to tell Sis and me apart.”
I smiled. “Your magic tastes different.”
“Yeah,” Kandy said. “You can’t fool anyone who can smell magic, fledglings.”
They glanced at each other, and this time even I could see the look of disappointment that passed between them. Maybe tricking people into thinking you were your twin was a fun game?
“You haven’t been by the bakery yet,” I said.
Gabby shifted uncomfortably. “We were going to come …”
“Mory said we should …” Peggy added.
“But we were waiting until everyone was in town, like officially, so we could all come together. As a family. You know? But Stephan is still transitioning his work.”
“No one is going to hurt you in Vancouver,” I said gently. My odd conversation with Angelica Talbot was suddenly showing itself in a new light.
Peggy nodded. “That’s why we’re here … Because we were bred for our magic …”
“… and whored out.” Gabby twined her fingers through her twin’s, but she kept her steady gaze on me.
“Mother … fecker,” Kandy snarled, modifying her language at the last moment.
Gabby narrowed her sky-blue gaze at the werewolf. “We aren’t seven.”
“Yes.” Peggy nodded helpfully. “We just look young for our age.”
“A bonus for our breeders.”
“You mean it would have been a bonus, Gabby. If the Convocation hadn’t rescued us.”
“Eventually.”
“It was a large prostitution ring, difficult to track and crack.”
“We agree to disagree.”
“Yes, we do. Anyway, we were pretty damaged by then, as you can imagine.”
“So no one wanted us.”
“Except the Talbots.”
“Yeah, except Stephan and Angelica.”
The twins looked at each other for a moment, then turned their expectant gazes on us.
I stared at them, processing this new inundation of information — and catching Kandy doing the same thing in my peripheral vision.
“Okay.” I shook my head, attempting to get my whirling thoughts back on track. “Okay. So, um, what went on here?”
“We were getting pedicures.” Peggy wagged one of her bare feet at me. “And then there was something coming through the dark. Gabby grabbed me. But just to protect me, not hurt me.”
“Something coming through the dark?” I didn’t try to hide my confusion, given that it was noon on a sunny Saturday.
“Well …” Peggy shook her head, her brow creasing with distress. “Something … someone trapped, angry, frustrated … and so, so strong. But starving, somehow.” She turned to her sister. “Just like I felt last night.”
Gabby shook her head sadly. “That was a flashback, maybe. A buried memory?”
“No,” Peggy said firmly. “For just a moment, I could see a white tile floor. Like through someone else’s eyes. Maybe like the floor of the salon? The edging behind the front counter? And I knew something, someone was coming. Something dark was trying to break through. To get to us. Or maybe … maybe it’s already here.”
“There’s nothing in the salon. Or behind the counter,” Kandy said, tucking her phone away. “Nothing magical but you two.”
I nodded, agreeing. We had passed the white-painted counter on our way into the salon, seeing only rows of nail polish and the cash register behind a rack of colorful flip-flops. I’d bought my own pink pair here only a couple of months before, when I had forgotten mine and was too lazy to walk a block back to my apartment before my pedicure appointment.
“What you saw,” I said, “did it have slitted red eyes?” Maybe the leech had been drawn to the salon despite the fact that it was full daylight. “Sucker-like mouth, jagged teeth? Hooked claws on the apex of its shadowy wings?”
Gabby and Peggy both paled. They glanced at each other, now completely freaked.
Kandy chuckled under her breath.
“So … um … that’s a no, then?”
“That’s … that thing is out there?” Gabby asked. “Like in the city? Somewhere?”
“Why is everyone else in the break room?” I asked instead of answering. “You didn’t mention the dark presence you felt, did you?”
“Nope.”
“No.”
“But they think Peggy is a psychic. You know?”
“No,” Kandy growled. “We don’t know.”
“They believe in psychics,” Gabby said patiently. As if we were idiots.
Peggy bobbed her head. “And it’s a little difficult when someone is touching me. You know.”
“No,” Kandy said again, more pointedly this time. “We don’t, you know.”
“So when I saw what I saw, I just said that I had a feeling they’d be … you know, more comfortable in the break room.”
I glanced at Kandy. She frowned at me. Jenny, the owner, had completely covered for the twins without blinking an eye.
“You’ve been here before?” I asked.
“Sure.”
“Yes.”
“And maybe you’ve been … helpful in the past?”
Gabby shrugged.
“Someone was skimming …” Peggy mumbled.
I sighed.
Kandy turned and stomped out of the room. I gathered it was either that or she was liable to wring both twins’ necks.
“We said nothing, nothing about magic,” Peggy said.
“Yeah, we aren’t stupid.” Gabby crossed her arms defensively, standing with her shoulder against Peggy’s.
“Why don’t you get them out of the break room … after Kandy and I leave,” I said. “Apologize for the misunderstanding. Explain you got a migraine or something.”
Peggy shifted her feet, but she nodded.
Denying your magic was difficult. I knew, because I did it reluctantly every day.
“People do sometimes see wonky things with migraines,” Gabby said.
“Yeah.” I inhaled deeply, letting my breath out with an exasperated rush. “Finish your pedicures, tip well, then come up to the bakery.”
“You’ll feed us?” Peggy asked hopefully. As if she’d heard things about me, presumably from Mory.
“Yeah, I’ll feed you.” I turned on my heel and vacated the salon, hoping that the twins pulled off smoothing over the incident with the nonmagicals. Otherwise, Gran was going to have to come back to the salon with a memory spell. And mind-altering magic, even cast by a witch of Gran’s stature, was tricky. Especially when used on people without any magic of their own.
And actually, getting Gran involved further given her current mood would probably have been a bad idea all round. Better to get through the engagement party — which she’d been planning for over a year — first. Then I could worry about everything else.
7
As was my preference, I turned right off West Fourth Avenue on my way back to the bakery, jogging diagonally across Yew Street so I could continue up the back alley. A quick glance at the time on my phone confirmed that Tima would have come on shift while I was bandying words with the twins and soothing their magic, so I slowed my pace and tried to connect the dots.
Usually, I was so focused on whatever I was doing that I had to be
slapped in the face to notice that something else was going on. Something hidden just underneath the surface of a situation. And the consequences of my slow uptake were usually dire. So if I had a moment to try to figure out what was happening before the ground caved in or the mountain came crashing down, I knew I should take that moment.
Granted, two magical surges weren’t really enough to indicate a pattern. And perhaps similar incidents had occurred regularly before the magical grid was put in place. Again, Gran would have been the right person to ask. Just maybe not today.
Even as a fledgling, I had never personally experienced anything like my magic being out of my control. Of course, Gran had kept me focused by encouraging my baking and trinket making — and thereby unleashing my unknown and untested alchemy skills in a constant trickle.
Magical surges might well have been a common occurrence for other Adepts, then. And it was only because I was tied too tightly to the witches’ grid that it seemed like a big deal. Or perhaps the witches had woven an overly sensitive web even without factoring in my participation.
But still … the telepath’s dire warning concerned me. What she talked about having seen and felt sounded like more than just a simple magical surge.
Kandy was waiting for me, leaning against the back door of the bakery kitchen. Still texting.
“How’s Henry?” I asked. I paused to enjoy some of the hazy sun on my face and the feel of a light breeze as it slipped through the alley. The trees at the exit onto Vine Street were on the verge of turning golden, but it would be a few more weeks until autumn really took hold of Vancouver.
Kandy grunted. “I’m texting with Pearl right now. The twins spiked on the map.”
“Hence my itchy feet.”
Kandy nodded. “She thinks … now … that we might have to take the grid down while everyone is still in town to get it back up, in order to get rid of that particular side effect.”
“So it is only me?”
Kandy flashed me a grin. “Ain’t it always, dowser?”
“And my replacement?”
Kandy snorted harshly. “Pearl isn’t quite willing to agree to that part of Scarlett’s plan yet.”
I pursed my lips. “I suppose I’m going to have to take sides.”
“I suppose you are. Don’t worry, though. Scarlett will get Wisteria and maybe some of the others to weigh in. Pearl will have to cave if the others agree.”
“To oust me.”
Kandy shook her head. “You need to decide whether you’re pissed at possibly being used by your grandmother, or if you want to be a baby about not being witchy enough to play with the others.”
“Can’t I be peeved about both at the same time?”
“Nope. Because then you’re just in a general snit, and that’s supremely boring.”
I laughed, readying a retort … but then the taste of peppermint tickled my senses. I glanced over my shoulder, expecting to see Kett in the narrow slice of shadow along the building at the far edge of the alleyway.
But the area around us was empty of white-blond vampires.
Kandy lowered her phone, watching me.
I shook my head. “I thought I tasted Kett.”
She snorted. “The ancient one texted me a few hours ago, officially announcing his presence in the city.”
“He dropped by earlier this morning.”
“How early?”
“Early. We got interrupted by a visit from Angelica Talbot. The twins’ adoptive mother.”
Frowning, Kandy pushed off the steel door, pacing into the alley and padding silently up toward Vine Street. Then she padded back. “What do you mean interrupted? He’s got a reason for being away?”
“You knew he would.”
“He could have just been moping around some castle in Europe again.”
“What’s making you uneasy?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head in quick denial. Then she relented. “The smoke.” She waved her hand in the air.
I glanced up at the mostly blue sky and the haze of smoke that had been sitting over the city for what seemed like the entire summer. Some days, it completely obscured the North Shore Mountains. And since the back of my throat always seemed to carry the taste of it, I couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Kandy’s werewolf senses.
“Also lots of new Adepts in town,” I said, carefully suggesting that Kandy might be antsy about something other than the smoke, which wasn’t particularly new.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Don’t attempt to baby me, dowser. You’re the one who keeps tasting the vampire’s magic.”
“And he’s in town.”
“Lurking around the alley?”
“Well, you never know. He might be playing. He might not want to interrupt our conversation.”
Kandy gave me a look, informing me with no uncertainty that she thought I was a moron.
I sighed. “I told the twins to come by for cupcakes.”
The werewolf nodded, allowing the redirection of the conversation. “Henry was being belligerent about not checking in with me before sending the Talbots to Vancouver. Said he went through proper channels.”
That was surprising. Because Henry Calhoun was anything but belligerent. He gave truth to all those fictional portrayals of Southern charm — something that seemed severely lacking in the world most days.
“He was probably flirting,” I said.
“Not with me,” Kandy snarled. “I’m his maker, not his mate.”
“He flirts with everyone.”
“Never mind,” she said. “I told him off.”
I eyed her for a moment, but she refused to meet my gaze. “So you were nasty to him, and now you feel bad.”
“Of course not!” Kandy angrily rubbed her arms, one at a time. But then she growled. “Damn it!” She tugged her phone free from her back pocket, placing a call instead of texting.
I reached for the handle of the bakery back door, intending to give my werewolf BFF some privacy while she sorted herself out. The connection between her and the US Marshal was complicated. And though she rarely spoke of it, I think she wished Henry would join her in Vancouver so she could keep him in her sight at all times. Of course, she would never ask him to leave his life and his job. That would be like asking for a favor. Or worse, asking for someone else to live their life for her. But the only thing Kandy ever asked of the Adepts in her life was for them to follow a short list of rules.
Actually, just one rule. Be willing to fight — and to die if necessary — for those you considered to be under your protection. Everything else was just manners and window dressing for the green-haired werewolf. Henry already followed that rule. And so did I.
The taste of peppermint magic drew my attention again, closer than before. And … too sweet.
I moved. Spinning away from the door, I darted across the alley. Vaulting the six-foot-high solid fence that backed the apartment building situated directly behind the bakery, I landed softly behind a huge rhododendron.
The magic I’d tasted shifted, reacting to my movement just slightly slower than I normally would have expected. Except I was almost certain I wasn’t being watched by Kett. Not unless his magic had changed — again — since I’d seen him that morning.
Then it became apparent that whatever Adept I was tracking had no inkling of the extent of my dowsing abilities. Because my stalker was now circling back, believing that he or she was moving too quickly for me.
In the alley, Kandy was talking loudly on her phone. By the blatantly obvious chitchat, anyone who knew the green-haired werewolf would have immediately discerned the ruse. But even as she continued to exude peppermint magic, my stalker apparently assumed the werewolf was distracted by her call.
The unknown vampire darted through the yard toward a high gate that led to a couple of exterior parking spots, seemingly intending to escape through the carport and up the alley.
I slipped up behind her — or at least I was assuming it was a her, now fairly certa
in that I was herding Kett’s maker. I had tasted her magic in London. As I’d predicted, she slipped past a parked car. Then she realized far too late that Kandy was standing in front of her, arms folded and a vicious smile in place, blocking her exit through the alley.
The vampire spun back, intending to retreat. Her dark-golden curls caught the sunlight, fanning across her shoulders and back. Her bright-blue eyes widened as I lunged.
She wasn’t faster than me.
She wasn’t even a match.
I drove her back across the alley and pinned her against the concrete wall, effectively hiding our confrontation behind a large green recycling bin.
As she wrapped her hands around my forearms, her eyes widened further, perhaps realizing that a grip she’d assumed would be crushingly unbearable was barely bruising me. She should have ducked and rolled, taking out my legs. She should have turned her reactionary spin into a kick to my torso.
It wouldn’t have helped, of course. But it was obvious that the vampire I was currently pinning against the exterior wall of the bakery had no idea how to even attempt to fight me.
She also wasn’t Kett’s dark-haired, pale-skinned maker. Rather, dressed in a light-brown silk blouse, a dark-brown skirt, and gorgeous knee-high suede boots, my stalker was golden haired and creamy skinned from tip to toe. She was also curvy in all the right places.
All of that was seriously annoying. Not only because that look was kind of my thing, but also because there were now two too many vampires in Vancouver.
Kandy slipped up beside me, effectively blocking the vampire off from the only route along which she might have tried an escape attempt. Of course, most vampires with the amount of peppermint power in their blood that I could taste in hers would have simply torn through the tall metal recycling bin to our left. But I was betting she didn’t know that. Just like she didn’t know how to fight. Or, at a minimum, how to defend herself.
Just like she didn’t know who I was, or the extent of my abilities, or that I could pick up the tenor of her magic easily. From blocks away on Kits Beach, or in the graveyard the previous night.
But she was right in front of me now. Tasting of Kett’s magic and stalking me. Even I wasn’t so dense that I couldn’t put those two things together. Though what they equaled, I had no idea.
Champagne, Misfits, and Other Shady Magic Page 13