Champagne, Misfits, and Other Shady Magic

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Kandy burst through the ward line shimmering with witch magic behind me, landing a few steps in front of the vampire. Kett’s lips twisted again in what might have been a smile, but was possibly also a snarl. He stepped back, risking ruining his shiny dark-gray Oxfords in the salt water lapping at his heels.

  Kandy cackled. “You afraid to come in, ancient one?” She set her hands on her hips, glancing around. “Where’s your baby girl?”

  Kett opened his mouth to speak, but shook his head instead, uncharacteristically running a hand through his hair. Then he stilled in midmotion, slowly lifting his gaze to the house looming behind us.

  A perfectly coiffed blond swathed in navy silk stood on the edge of the patio, gazing down at us.

  At Kett, specifically.

  Wisteria.

  A well-tanned, utterly imposing man loomed next to the reconstructionist. His sunglass-shaded gaze was pinned to the vampire on the beach.

  Declan.

  Kett hadn’t moved. Hadn’t dropped his hand. His face was expressionless, his cool peppermint magic coiled tightly around him.

  Kandy glanced up at the witch on the patio, then back at the immobile vampire. Dark laughter rose up from somewhere deep within her belly. “Centuries old but still human enough to want what you can’t have. Eh, vampire?”

  Kett dropped his hand, lifting his lip in a halfhearted snarl. But he didn’t dispute Kandy’s glib conjecture.

  The werewolf snorted, snapping her teeth at Kett playfully.

  I looked back toward the house, watching Wisteria glancing around, then moving for the gate that led to the beach. Declan remained behind.

  “So … Wisteria too?” I whispered.

  “It’s not what you think, dowser,” Kett said stiffly. “Or … it might have been. But it isn’t now.”

  “And the tasty morsel with her?” Kandy asked, feigning ignorance in order to needle Kett. “He doesn’t appear to be a fan.”

  “Declan Benoit.” Kett spoke the name as if it had been dragged from him. “Her childhood sweetheart. Her betrothed. And Jasmine’s half-brother. In another lifetime, at least.”

  Kandy gave me a look that I returned. None of that information was news to either of us, of course. But Kett’s reaction was.

  Wisteria stepped into view, pausing at the base of the stairs. After carefully assessing the beach for potential hazards, her gaze returned to the vampire at my side.

  “Don’t make her walk across the sand in those shoes,” I murmured. The reconstructionist was wearing shiny, open-toed navy sandals with spiky heels.

  Kett flinched as though I’d pinched him — and he had somehow felt it through his iced-carved physique. Then he stepped across the beach, reaching for the reconstructionist.

  The surprise that flitted across Wisteria’s face informed me that he’d moved quickly. To her senses, at least.

  But it was the kiss that Kett pressed to the witch’s cheek that was surprising to Kandy and me. The green-haired werewolf’s eyes narrowed in dark assessment. She wasn’t the reconstructionist’s biggest fan, and I could easily guess that the circumstances tying Kett to the Fairchilds through Jasmine were bothering the werewolf as well. But then, Kandy didn’t really like anyone. Other than those few people she would die to protect.

  I followed Kett, Kandy moving beside me. Wisteria appeared completely composed, even emotionless, matching the vampire’s cool aspect almost perfectly. But her nutmeg-scented magic churned around her.

  They hadn’t exchanged a single word. At least not out loud.

  “They’re an interesting match,” Kandy murmured. “Boring to the extreme.”

  Kett offered his arm to the reconstructionist as we drew closer, preceding us up the steps and back to the party. Whatever had stopped the vampire from crossing through the wards previously had apparently been nullified. Perhaps by Wisteria’s appearance, and her silent acceptance of his presence.

  I paused to brush sand off my feet. Kandy didn’t seem to care. And somehow, the vampire didn’t have a speck of sand on him.

  By the time I made it to the top of the stairs, the party was down to one dragon. Warner.

  “Wily guardian,” Kandy muttered, scanning the patio and pool for Suanmi. “Slipped my net.”

  I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. Only my werewolf best friend would decide that stalking one of the nine most powerful beings in the world — one who could incinerate a demon with a whispered word — was a fun pursuit.

  Drawing startled gazes his way, Kett weaved through the few Adepts near the top of the stairs, Wisteria’s hand still resting lightly on his arm. I’d never seen the vampire willingly touch anyone for such an extended period of time.

  I latched the gate behind me, seeking out Warner, then meeting his questioning gaze with a smile.

  The odd couple paused before Declan where he still stood on the patio. Kett offered his hand to Wisteria’s betrothed. Magic full of the taste of burned sugar raged around Declan, and for the briefest of moments, I thought he was going to attack Kett.

  Because I apparently took after my father more than my mother when it came to such things, my palm itched for the grip of my knife hilt. Even without my father, Suanmi, and Drake present, there were still a lot of powerful people gathered on my grandmother’s patio. A brawl would have been epic.

  But Declan simply grasped Kett’s hand, offering a stiff nod instead of a smile. His magic settled back into the taste of bread pudding soaked in caramel sauce.

  Wisteria dropped Kett’s arm, stepping to Declan’s side. Then she locked her gaze to me.

  I sighed. Disappointed.

  No brawl, then.

  Kandy chortled under her breath, flashing me a grin. Then she slipped off into the crowd to waylay a server who appeared to be carrying an Asian-inspired spot-prawn appetizer. Abandoned to deal with Wisteria, Declan, and Kett on my own, I plastered a smile over my inappropriate disappointment.

  The vampire turned to look back at me over his shoulder, lifting his hand to invite me to join them. Another unusual display of forthright affection.

  Then I put the three of them, along with Jasmine, together with the rumors that had filtered through the Convocation, Gran, and Scarlett. The reconstructionist had recently taken the reins of the Fairchild coven, and at least three witches had died in the transition — including the now-remade Jasmine. As far as I knew, the Convocation had accepted the official statements that the Fairchilds had provided, and no tribunal had been called for.

  If anyone had asked me a day earlier whether Wisteria was capable of murder, I would have said no. Utterly and unequivocally. But I could have easily imagined that most people would have said the same of me. The cupcakes confused people, as the cool, perfectly put-together facade that Wisteria projected no doubt did as well.

  The executioner of the Conclave didn’t become enamored of the ordinary. Of course, neither did I — so that wasn’t judgemental of me, but simply an observation. But the timing of Wisteria’s elevation within the Fairchild coven, her obvious connection to Kett, and the fact that whatever had happened resulted in Jasmine becoming a vampire — all of it seemed to indicate that the executioner had been involved in the upheaval.

  I stepped forward, placing my hand lightly into Kett’s cool grasp and meeting his icy-blue gaze.

  So … okay. The executioner of the Conclave was infatuated with a witch betrothed to her childhood sweetheart. And Declan, based on the taste of his magic, wasn’t to be toyed with. But with her newly settled power, neither was Wisteria. In fact, I was fairly certain that given enough notice, either of them could seriously harm Kett if they were so inclined.

  My vampire BFF squeezed my hand lightly, perhaps letting me know that I’d been staring at him too long. I turned to Wisteria. Even with both of us in heels, she stood about two inches shorter than me. A ring of bright-blue witch magic almost obscured her dark-blue eyes, informing me that my smile had taken on an edge at the thought of her hurting Kett. But her expression
was otherwise placid.

  “Jade Godfrey,” Kett intoned formally, not knowing that I had already met Declan. “Dowser. Alchemist. Wielder of the instruments of assassination. Dragon slayer.”

  Still, I could see in Declan’s reaction that this was the first time he realized exactly who I was — and all the terrible I was capable of. His shoulders stiffened, then angled slightly as if he might have been preparing to throw something at me. Based on the tenor of his magic and Kandy’s comment about him singeing Gran’s rug, I gathered that whatever spells he wielded were volatile.

  My smile widened. I was a fan of new magic.

  “Declan Benoit,” Kett said, blithely continuing as if I wasn’t egging the witch on just a bit. “Convocation extraction specialist. Of the Fairchild coven.”

  “Declan,” I said, unintentionally purring his name. Then I added for Kett’s benefit, “We met at the bakery earlier today.”

  Wisteria flinched, drawing my attention. Then I felt a flush of shame. The two of them were guests of my grandmother, and obviously friendly with Kett. My edginess was completely uncalled for.

  I swallowed, consciously willing my magic to settle underneath my necklace and knife, though it usually did so naturally. “My apologies.” I glanced at Kett, who was watching me closely. “There is rather a lot of magic … in the air.”

  “Indeed,” the vampire murmured.

  Wisteria smiled tentatively. And I realized that the witch was nervous, as if she were worried about something. Perhaps of how I would react to her obvious connection to Kett?

  “Congratulations on your engagement, dowser,” the reconstructionist said formally.

  “And you as well.” I nodded toward Declan, who acknowledged me with another of his stiff nods. But I was fairly certain it was the vampire by my side who was the source of his conflicted feelings, not me. And that wasn’t any of my business. At least, I wasn’t interested in getting entangled in any of it.

  “Well … um …” I spoke before the silence could get any more strained. “I should introduce you to Warner.”

  “We’ve met.” Wisteria smiled politely. “Twice now.”

  Nodding as I remembered her reference to meeting Warner in Seattle while we were first hunting the instruments, I glanced sideways at Kett. “And you should say hello to Gran.”

  The vampire nodded, almost imperceptibly disconcerted at the suggestion.

  Wisteria laughed quietly again, obviously picking up on Kett’s dismay without effort. Well, that was surprising.

  “Will I see you later?” I asked the vampire.

  His gaze flicked to Wisteria, then to Declan before he dipped his chin in a shallow nod of acknowledgment. I brushed my hand against his forearm as I turned away, intending to finally set up camp beside the chocolate fountain.

  “Is she here?” Wisteria whispered tensely almost the moment my back was turned. “Kett? Can we see her?”

  I didn’t glance back, nor did I hear Kett’s answer. But then, the vampire would have known how many sensitive ears currently surrounded him, more so than the two witches would have. And Jasmine was a secret he would want to keep to himself for as long as possible.

  In all honesty, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know all the gritty details. Unless Kett wanted to tell them, of course. But I knew that it would be better to move forward, hoping my vampire BFF remained in Vancouver despite how firmly he was now tied to the Fairchilds. I couldn’t shackle him, or even Kandy, to the city just because I chose to stay, though.

  Life changed, didn’t it? But that didn’t mean I had to like the prospect of losing those I loved if they moved on.

  10

  I slipped away from the engagement party, mournfully leaving the chocolate fountain behind but needing a reprieve for a few moments. I wasn’t certain why I still felt so edgy. Nothing had really happened. Yes, the day had been filled with a series of minor revelations and magical blips. But that was nothing compared to what I’d faced in the past. So why was my chest tight and my smile so strained?

  Had my tolerance for stress dropped to such a supremely low level? Was I that weak? That inflexible?

  I had thought of simply stepping outside the wards that coated Gran’s property for a moment. But instead, I found myself walking down and around the block. Then, wrapping the comforting weight of Warner’s gloriously soft stole around my neck and shoulders, I strolled through Tatlow Park. Avoiding the forested edge where Sienna had dumped Hudson’s body.

  That terrible moment of discovery and betrayal felt as though it had occurred two lifetimes ago. The remembrance was still saddening. Mournful. But also muted.

  But that wasn’t what was bothering me. That wasn’t responsible for the edginess I was having a hard time denying and brushing away.

  I had relentlessly avoided introspection since I’d murdered Shailaja and absorbed her magic. Since I’d become the dragon slayer, perhaps decades before I’d been destined to wield the instruments of assassination. I thought I’d accepted the idea of that accelerated timeline, but perhaps I still hadn’t digested it fully. Perhaps I still hadn’t figured out how to fit back into the box I’d built for myself, with the bakery and everything.

  I had wedged Warner, and Kandy, and even Kett into that box. Yet we really didn’t fit. And now there was Jasmine … and Wisteria … and all of Kandy’s misfits.

  And that was all I had. All I could come up with to justify my mood. An observation. An idea that something was going on with me, and with the city itself. But with no firm understanding of what it was or might be.

  Preceded by the muted taste of his magic, Warner crossed through the shadowed playground. I had paused by the yellow plastic slide without noticing. He twined his fingers through mine when I reached for him, and together, we meandered out of the park and onto West Third Avenue without speaking.

  With that simple gesture — his hand offered and accepted — Warner had anchored me back in the present. “Do I do that for you?” I whispered. “Make you … settle with just a touch?”

  “Yes,” Warner said. “But I know that some part of you still worries that I’ve reinvented myself. That I’ve conformed to the present, which includes marrying you. Rather than truly wanting any of it for myself.”

  “I know that isn’t it,” I said. “Or that it isn’t all of it, at least.”

  “Being a dragon is all about duty and honor. About might and justice. And enforcing rules and regulations.”

  “I know.”

  “But … I would throw all of that over if doing so was necessary to save you.”

  I stopped, gazing up at the ever-darkening sky above the tightly packed houses that lined the narrow road. I couldn’t see the moon, but the lights from the homes to either side kissed the neighborhood with a comforting glow. “When I thought you were dead …” I found myself struggling to find the words. “In the tomb of the phoenix … all I wanted to do was join you. And … and when I knew you were still alive, but … the far seer had … but I knew I was dying, all I wanted to do was live. To survive. With you. So I took the power. I took it. I murdered Shailaja —”

  “To prevent her from killing Drake and me.”

  I nodded, acknowledging him but needing to get out everything I hadn’t said yet. Everything I hadn’t said out loud. “And then I walked away. I’ve walked away. No trial. No ramifications. Just a whack of power, and the only three ways to kill a guardian dragon hanging off my necklace.”

  Warner laughed harshly. “Isn’t that enough of a punishment? That responsibility?”

  I looked over at him. He was leaning into me — not touching except for our intertwined fingers — but there if I needed him. His broad shoulders turned as if offering to shelter me, or even carry me, if I needed it.

  He smiled sadly. “You are so strong. Mind-bogglingly strong. Chi Wen forces this metamorphosis on you, and you barely blink. Pearl decides to erect a magic detection net solely because you are here to fuel and enforce it for her.”

  “
I don’t think —”

  Warner pressed a finger to my lips softly. “I’m sure she has other reasons as well. But many cities host diverse Adept populations without a coven of witches attempting to govern all their behavior. They police themselves, as it has always been. Even the party tonight was a parade of power. How many of the guests would you call your friends? And it was supposedly our engagement party.”

  “You know that was just to get her off my back about not having a huge wedding …” What Warner was trying to say slowly sank into my thick head.

  That was why I was so tense, why I’d been so tense the past few days. I was doing things for other people. Out of duty, not choice.

  “There has to be a balance,” I murmured. “Vancouver is my home.”

  “Our home.”

  I grinned at him. “So … we have to make it work here.”

  “Of course. But it’s also okay to take a break, or even say no. Or to get mad at what’s being carelessly asked of you.”

  “I said no to the guardians, didn’t I?”

  He laughed quietly. “Yeah. Right up to the moment they actually need you.” He brushed his fingers through my hair, then pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “Don’t get me wrong, Jade. I love that about you.”

  “I still need to help recast the grid tonight,” I said stubbornly. “I’m seriously tired of getting itchy feet whenever a fledgling’s magic goes wonky.”

  Warner stilled. “Whenever? It happened to someone other than Mory, you mean?”

  I nodded, tugging him with me as I continued to meander up the block. I hadn’t had a moment to update him about the last twenty-four hours yet.

  “Like what? A burst of power?”

  “Yeah. Why?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve encountered a number of magical power surges in the last few weeks.”

  “With Adepts?”

  He shook his head. “No. Certain locations. Magical fortifications. Pulou has had some of us, your father and Haoxin included, checking on various places. Dimensional rifts and such. That was why the others were called away. Something happening in Europe.”