by Patti Larsen
I didn't let her finish. Pummeled her with what I'd just gone through. Mom's anger disappeared in a flash, the feeling of her rising and moving quickly feeding my own desperate need to act.
Go, she sent. I'll be there shortly with Enforcers. You know where to find her?
Following her call. I spun on Shenka and Gram, Sassafras tucked against my chest. “Watch the family,” I said before turning and sprinting across the yard and into the edge of the park, tearing a massive hole in the veil the moment I crossed over the family wards.
Quaid, Sass sent as we leaped from the other side, my feet landing on a manicured lawn, Charlotte releasing a soft hiss as we emerged at the end of a long, cobbled drive leading up to a massive mansion, more castle than house.
Right. I reached for the Enforcer trainee, knowing he'd want to help Mia if he could, though I knew the siblings were as estranged as Mia and I.
Why was I surprised to feel him nearby? More shock, the Dumont family wards were down.
No, not down.
Gone.
I slipped into the veil again rather than run what looked like a half mile to the front door, stepping out into a large foyer of marble and dark stone, a thick, purple carpet soft under my feet, climbing the staircase. Charlotte’s deep growling cut through the stillness, punctuated by the sound of crying. I almost tripped over a fallen woman, her angular face characteristic of her Dumont heritage, skin pale, eyes closed. Sassafras leaped from my arms as I looked around in horror. The foyer was filled with the fallen, Dumonts all, from the look of them, some staring empty-eyed at the ceiling, others groaning softly, weeping.
But the worst was the young woman resting in the arms of the black-robed Enforcer six stairs up. Mia sobbed in Quaid's arms, her black Goth makeup trailing down her white cheeks. I choked on disbelief, a horrible feeling of dread rising in my chest as I followed Sassafras who streaked up the steps to land in Mia's arms.
She hugged him, the sound of him purring reaching me long before I knelt beside her, my demon cat’s particular brand of comfort vibrating through her body. Mia looked up at me, ice blue eyes huge before she lunged toward me, pulling away from Quaid to embrace me, Sassafras squashed, but still purring, between us.
“Oh, Syd!” She clung to me, sobbing harder despite Sassy's comforting magic.
I hugged her back, reaching for her power.
Felt it, puny, small.
My entire body shuddered as I understood at last what happened, terror for my own family clenching my muscles tight as I reached for Gram.
It's gone. I could barely whisper in my mind. The Dumont power. Just. Gone.
I had no idea how. Didn’t know it was possible.
But there wasn’t a trace of the old family’s magic anywhere.
Gram touched me, understood. Gasped before cursing. We're gathering the coven, she sent. Everyone is safe. So far. Keep us informed.
I met Quaid's eyes, registered the hurt as he leaned away from his sister. I reached for him with one hand even as Mia fell back again, grasping at me and her brother at the same time.
The air around me exploded all at once, shocks of blue magic erupting as dozens of Enforcers suddenly appeared overhead. Mom burst into view, landing with a thud on the step below us, leaning over Mia as she reached for the girl. Mia fell into Mom's embrace, shuddering uncontrollably, Sassafras slipping free, still purring, but shaking his head at me.
No amount of comfort magic would help Mia. Not now.
Maybe not ever again.
I caught glimpses of Enforcers gathering the fallen Dumonts, but kept my attention on Mom. Her blue eyes met mine as she rocked Mia, her power engulfing the girl even as she touched my mind.
The family?
I hugged her mentally. Safe. For now.
Mom seemed to relax a fraction, only enough I noticed, knowing her so well.
“Mia,” Mom said. “You must tell us what happened.”
The Dumont leader gasped a shuddering breath before absolute hate crossed her face, transforming her from grief to evil in a breath.
“She did this,” Mia snarled. “Ameline.”
I shook my head immediately even as Mom answered.
“That's impossible,” Mom said. “Ameline is in prison. And has been for months. You know this.”
Mia's whole body bucked as she jerked free of Mom, vibrating with her hate, feet pattering against the floor as her heavy boots thudded into the thick carpet.
“She did this!” Her scream echoed through the giant foyer, catching the attention of the Enforcers who tended to her family. Everyone stared as Mia lurched to her feet, balls of flickering lavender magic appearing and disappearing around her hands as the meager amount of power she still had access to struggled to do her bidding.
“Rupe was here.” Mia's voice dropped, a deep hiss.
Her old boyfriend vanished with Ameline after she tried to steal my vampire essence. So I could understand why Mia was so convinced. But I delivered Ameline into custody myself. Fear lanced through me as I turned to Mom.
She is in custody. Right?
Mom didn't answer. Didn't have a chance. Mia spun on Quaid, grasping him by the front of his robe, the magic lighting the fabric on fire.
“You find her,” Mia shrieked, “and you kill Ameline Benoit for stealing our family magic!”
***
Chapter Six
I stood back, trying to stay out of the way, the horror of the circumstance still weighing on me as I watched Enforcers carry the injured—and the dead—to various parts of the house. More and more fallen Dumonts appeared, from rooms scattered all over the giant mansion. I knew the family was large, hundreds of members, but I had no idea they all lived together in a fortress like this.
No way I could handle having my coven around me 24/7. No. Way.
Quaid stood next to me, head down, face drawn into a tight scowl. I knew he had to be lost in the demand Mia made of him. It took me a little while to break out of my own shock, but once I did, my hand crept into his and he accepted what fraction of comfort I had to offer without question.
Our magic linked, flowed together, his tie to the Hayle coven still as strong as ever, though now buried under his growing Enforcer power. I dreaded the day he accepted his place as a full Enforcer, knowing, despite the fact I'd set him free from me, I'd cry over his loss when he finally severed our last connection.
Pender Tremere, the Enforcer leader, strode with ponderous concern to our side, one hand landing on Quaid's shoulder as he bowed his head to me. The air over us continued to burst and ripple with magic as more and more Enforcers arrived, others leaving, the rush of activity making me feel dizzy and starting a headache behind my right eye.
“Thank you for coming, Coven Leader.” Pender turned to Quaid. “Perhaps you'd like to stay with your sister?”
Quaid shook himself, breaking our touch as he straightened his shoulders. “I'm here to serve, sir.”
Pender smiled sadly and dropped his hand from Quaid's shoulder. “I know,” he said. “In that case, I ask you to please attend to the Dumont leader, if you would, trainee.”
Quaid's face spasmed in pain, rippling through his magic to me.
“Yes, sir,” he said.
“What will happen now?” I hugged myself, looking around, wincing from the scent of death and the cold feeling of the house, the pressure of so much grief and loss sucking at my spirit. Though most of the family was now behind closed doors, under care, the place still had the feeling of a giant refugee camp.
Pender looked around too, lines etched deeply in his narrow face. “I don't know,” he said, ever so softly, as though he wasn't aware he spoke. “Nothing like this has ever happened before. We'll be here to guard the family, naturally. Until some resolution can be found.”
He didn't have to say there wasn't much left to protect.
Mom strode toward us, face calm, emotionless, though I knew her better than that. She did the whole Council Leader thing way better than I wo
uld ever play my role and I wondered if she'd teach me how to hide my emotions so I didn't have to feel like my pessimism was only adding to the problem.
“That's the last of them, at least as far as we know.” Mom's fingers brushed my cheek, the momentary contact allowing me in, to feel how weary and sad she was before she dropped her hand. “According to Council rolls, there should be three hundred and seventy six members.”
Holy. Our coven of just over a hundred felt small in comparison.
“Any outside the premises?” Pender sounded all official again. Mom had that effect on most people, despite the kindness she showed those beneath her.
“Some.” She reached out and took Quaid's hand. “They've been located and brought back.”
Quaid's chocolate eyes flashed with blue power. “How many lost?”
Mom hesitated, long enough I knew the answer wasn't good.
Not that losing even one witch was okay, Dumonts or not. Yes, they'd been a thorn in our sides for a long time. But bygones were bygones as far as I was concerned. After the death of Odette, their misguided leader, the worst I had from the Dumont family was the occasional irritation from Mia's cousins, Jean Marc and Kristophe.
No, I didn't like the Dumont family. But no coven deserved this fate.
No witch.
And from the tension around Mom's eyes, the number ran high.
“One hundred and forty three,” Mom said as Quaid's brow tightened, my own stomach clenching. “Survivors.”
Dear. Elements. Almost two thirds of the coven...
Dead.
“So far,” Mom said. Winced. “Some are still touch and go.”
I quivered, reached for Gram, felt her support me as tears welled, my throat tightening. For the Dumonts, but more so, for us.
Who had done this? And why?
More importantly, were other covens at risk?
I had to assume so. “Mom,” I said. Didn't have to finish.
She nodded quickly, her mask falling away as rage flickered over her face. “I know,” she said. “We'll find out who did this. I swear it. And they will pay.”
While I appreciated her sentiment, the pessimist in me was still alive and well. Whoever did this, whoever attacked the Dumonts, brought a powerful coven to its knees. And while yes, Mia wasn't the strongest leader, the Dumont family was generations old and one of the strongest in North America. If they'd fallen so easily...
Choke.
“It could have been Ameline,” Quaid said, voice gravel over coals, burning with fury. “Not directly, but she could have had a hand in it.”
Mom didn't say anything, but she had to be thinking the same thing. “She'll be questioned,” Mom said.
“Mia mentioned Rupe.” My normal friend, the Goth guy I'd known as Blood, who I'd reconnected with at Harvard only to have him stripped away by Ameline. A tug of guilt reminded me I hadn't thought of him in ages. Or continued to look for him after my initial hunt for him failed when he disappeared. “So you could be right, Quaid.”
Mom let his hand go, stepping back, mask in place once again. “As I said, she'll be questioned.”
“Let me talk to her.” Ameline had been trying to lure me in for months, sending endless notes, claiming she needed to see me. I ignored her, but maybe it was time to take her up on her invitation.
Mom's flat, cold expression shut me down well before I could offer further.
“I will handle Miss Benoit,” she said. “It's time for the Hayle coven leader to return home.”
She said what?
Let me handle this, Mom sent, mental tone sharp and rigid.
Mia asked for my help, I sent back, with my own razor edge. Directly.
I know, Mom sent. That's why you haven't been arrested. She did not just say that to me. But your initial invitation was just that. Initial. It's now my job to handle this.
Mom didn't wait for me to answer, spinning and striding off. I watched her go, seething, my horror turned to fury aimed at the back of her head.
Pender bowed to me before walking after Mom. Quaid turned to me, dark eyes full of churning emotions, as powerful as mine.
I'll keep you posted. His magic slid around me, pulled me close, the intensity of his need to act firing me up, sending my demon into a cycle of snarling and snapping even as she reached back, tightening the connection.
There again, the tingle, the pull. The touch I'd thought lost to me. Still there, calling.
His hair felt soft, thick under my hands as I clasped the back of his neck, welcoming his lips as he bent over me. A burst of power surged between us, heating my body to boiling as his lips devoured mine, hands hot where they pressed to my t-shirt. I sank into him, and he into me, our bodies locking together as we both took what we needed.
Passion. Support. Promise.
Quaid pulled away first, leaving me panting, my demon snarling at him to come back, to stay with us. A need like I'd never known burned in his eyes, a need I knew very well.
Too well.
Quaid let me go, stepping back while I did the same, the touch of his Enforcer magic coming between us.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
“I'm not.” It came out fierce, full of pain.
Quaid hesitated. “How's Liam?”
Bastard.
“How's Payten?” Oh, the pain we brought each other.
Quaid straightened, nodded.
And me? Well. I walked away.
***
Chapter Seven
It brought me at least a little satisfaction to ignore Mom's direct order. Rather than leave immediately, I pushed my boundaries and went looking for Mia.
She had my demon cat, after all. And I was more than a little attached to his fuzzy butt.
Charlotte padded softly behind me, footfalls louder than usual. As though she wanted me to know she was there.
I stopped to face her, meeting her blue eyes, flickering with the wolf inside her. She hovered closer than usual, body loose and liquid.
While I went tense when I prepped for battle, Charlotte was the opposite. As though knowing she headed for trouble triggered extra fluidity.
Charlotte was ready for a fight. As long as it wasn't with me, we were fine. When her wolf surged to the surface and took over for a moment, I knew it wasn't me she wanted to thrash. But she threw in a little nod anyway.
Just so I'd know it.
It couldn't have been easy for her, being in this house. The Dumonts held her and her pack captive here for who knew how long. Thralled and forced to protect Odette and her hideous bloodline, Charlotte must have memories she wanted to erase. And since I knew the lengths this family used to be willing to go to when they wanted something, I could imagine Charlotte's life hadn't been easy.
Not even a little bit.
The guilt I felt because she traded ownership by the Dumonts for servitude to me didn't help much. And even though I would have loved to talk to her about it, previous attempts to find out more about her past failed. And she gave me no indication such questions would meet with anything more than silence and stubbornness.
Instead of continuing to beat my head against that particular brick wall, I focused on finding my demon cat. We found Sassafras curled up next to Mia in a large, four poster bed carved from black stone laced with purple crystals. Her room was huge, reminding me of my old bestie, Alison, and the massive mansion she grew up in. Guilt twanged at the thought of the dead cheergirl, but I didn't have time for her or her memory now. Besides, this place was much more ostentatious, as bad as the rest of the mansion/castle, with furniture clearly imported from France and heavy black curtains better off on a horror movie set than a bedroom. The whole space gave me the creeps, the fact Mia felt so weak and lost not helping matters any.
The sound of Sassy's purring finally lulled me, and I wondered if he'd been eavesdropping on my conversation with Mom. I knew Gram probably had and wouldn't put it past my demon Persian to do the same.
No privacy for Syd. Not ever.
Mia opened her eyes as I entered, two Enforcers flanking the bed coming to attention. I waved them off and approached as if I was supposed to be there, hadn’t been ordered to leave, sitting next to my friend. Not looking at Quaid who stood with his back to me, staring out the slit in the curtains.
Mia reached for my hand, huge blue eyes achingly wide, full of so much agony I felt my throat tighten all over again.
“Syd,” she cried. “What am I going to do?”
I leaned over her and hugged her, feeling her desperation through her embrace. “We'll figure this out,” I said, that same fierceness I'd experienced with Quaid rechanneling into rage and determination. “I promise.”
She nodded against my shoulder before falling back. “I had to call you,” she whispered. “You were the only one I could trust.”
Wow. Sob. And here I thought she hated me, had cut me out of her life for all these long months. I always considered Mia my friend, even when she'd broken down after I tried to support her, had advised her to prune the bad apples from her coven when I didn't know if she had the strength to do it. She came looking for my help then, too, and I'd given her what assistance I could without being arrested. She cut me off after that, hadn't followed through, left me with the impression I wasn't welcome in her life anymore. But knowing how much she thought of me made things ten times worse. Could I have prevented this, helped her more, supported her if I'd just pushed a little harder, been a better friend?
Don't be an idiot, Gram sent in a tight burst of connection.
Right. No coven interference. Still.
“I wouldn't have let him in.” Mia sagged, a doll missing her stuffing. “If I'd know, Syd, I never would have.”
“Rupe?” My forehead pinched before I forced myself to calm. She didn't need me freaking on her. She was enough of a mess herself.
Be supportive for once, Syd. Sheesh.
“He just showed up at the door.” She smiled and cried all at once before her face crumpled and she coughed out a series of barking sobs before falling still again. “He told me he loved me.” Could the whole situation be more horrible? More terrible than this? “I let him in. And then...”