by Patti Larsen
Warning received. Recklessness roused. I'm in, I sent.
Gram paused, turned to me, a frown creasing her wrinkled brow. I really should go alone, she sent. But you're the only one who can get us the information we desperately need.
Where are we going, exactly? I kept moving as she began her tromping way again, glad for the distraction, for something to focus on besides my flaring anger as the peak of Memorial Chapel came into view.
To see Ameline, of course, Gram sent.
A black blot in my soul rejoiced.
The perfect revenge against my mother. I'd take it.
***
Chapter Thirteen
Gram finally pulled me to a halt in front of the bench next to the chapel. I knew this bench, spent a very uncomfortable few minutes fighting off my former bestie here during my first week at Harvard. Alison's ghost attacked me, wanting the vampire essence now living inside me. Guilt rose, as it always did when I thought of Alison. Tracking down the now tainted echo of who Alison Morgan had been wasn't on the top of my priority list, despite the fact my vampire worried the portions of her essence Alison stole turned the former cheergirl into some kind of vampire/ghost hybrid. I'd kept my ears and eyes open, but hadn't heard a whisper about Alison since the night the Star Club fell apart. The night Alison first tasted blood.
A shudder ran through me as Gram spun and pointed a sharp index finger my way. “You two stay close,” she said. I caught Charlotte's sharp nod beside me and briefly considered trying to send her home. Like that was going to happen. My bodywere's wolf eyes met my gaze, no sign of calm and unassuming remaining.
Yeah. Charlotte was coming with us.
Okay, then.
Gram turned toward the bench and made a soft sound, kind of like she trilled the beginning of a song. Her hands came together in a sharp jerk, power sparking between them before she slowly drew them apart. The hair on my arms stood up as Enforcer magic bounced back from her. I quickly shielded what she was doing before anyone could react to it.
Gram didn't seem too concerned, all of her focus on the gap forming between her hands. The line of blue magic parted in the middle, a window into somewhere else shimmering to life. Turned out I wasn't the only one who could open a veil. Though this one felt nothing like the rubbery membrane I used to travel, the wall between my plane and Demonicon. It buzzed with life, humming back to Gram, welcoming her.
A stone hallway appeared as she drew her fingers apart, a slice through the veil as tall as she was vibrating around the edges, blue fire licking at her hands to match the border of the tear. By the time she was done, her song ended, a large opening in the fabric of this plane led to what amounted to a castle corridor on the other side.
“This entrance isn't used very often,” Gram said, turning to meet my eyes. Sweat beaded on her upper lip as her chin trembled from the strain, though from the sparkle in her gaze she was having the time of her life. “So we should be fine. Now, everybody in.”
Charlotte didn't hesitate, pushing past me, nose in the air, snuffling as she stepped through. I followed behind her, staying close, feeling the subtle sting of the veil brush against my hand as I touched the edge of the hole Gram made. She hissed behind me, practically pushing against my back until we all stood in the corridor, leaving the warmth of the sun for the dim coolness of the stone hall.
I turned just in time to see Gram bring her hands together again, the tear sealing shut with a slurping sound reminding me of something being swallowed. Gram panted, hands shaking as she grinned at me.
“Haven't done that in a while,” she said with a broad wink. “Forgot how much fun it was.”
Fun. Right.
I looked around, the scent of damp stone and distant wood smoke reaching my nose, the air chill with moisture. A blank wall stood where we'd come through, square stones sealed with dark mortar climbing well over our heads. A small window at least eight feet up showing only a dark and gloomy sky. Gram's hands reached into the air, small flashes of blue preceding the appearance of three black robes as she snatched them from nothing before tossing them to me and Charlotte. Her own draped across her thin shoulders, black hood coming up over her halo of white hair.
As if some kind of weird switch had been flipped, all of a sudden Gram looked like an Enforcer. Her spine straightened, a youthful vitality coming over her face as she did a happy tap dance on the stones under her feet, only the fuzzy socks she wore visible and giving away the fact she wasn't really one of the order anymore.
Or was she?
Her fingers brushed over my cheek, a tingle of magic passing between us as a foreign power integrated into my personal shielding. I recognized her touch immediately, but this was distilled, raw, as wild as any earth magic I'd felt from Galleytrot and his master of the Sidhe hunt.
Gram touched Charlotte too, before shuddering like a dog shedding water.
“Enforcer power,” Gram said, voice deeper, steadier than usual. Without the edge of crazy I was used to. “It won't hold up under careful scrutiny, but I don't think anyone will bother us. No outsider has ever made it this far, so they have no reason to wonder. Or ask questions.” She glared at me, one finger jabbing my chest. “Head down, follow close, and shut the hell up. Got it?”
I nodded even as my stomach fell to my feet, dread as heavy as the velvet folds of the stolen cloak I wore.
This was very bad. But I'd agreed to it, hadn't I? Impersonating an Enforcer. A new low, Syd.
But the joy in Gram's face, the way she turned from me and strode off with eager steps, stilled my bout of nerves. She wouldn't have brought us here if she didn't think it was important. And I agreed with her. Ameline had information I needed, information Mom already admitted the criminal witch would only give to me. Adopting her confident stride if not her attitude, I went after her, Charlotte trailing behind me.
“So where are we?” We'd passed through the veil, but this place wasn't familiar and I began to wonder just how many alternate planes there were. Considering the demon plane was a combination of hundreds of smaller ones bonded together, the possibilities really boggled.
“Nowhere special,” Gram said with amusement in her voice. “Just a little place we like to call home.” She paused. “They, I mean.”
“Who they?” Though from the robes we all wore, I was beginning to understand why Quaid was so hard to find, why he seemed to disappear at times. Understanding dawned as Gram spoke.
“Welcome to the Enforcer stronghold,” she said. “Training ground, quarters. Home of the High Council prison.”
Prison?
Gulp.
Right. Ameline. Still. The word sent shivers through me as I walked behind my grandmother, just hoping this sneak visit wasn't a sign I'd find myself a more permanent resident in the future.
Wasn't holding my breath.
***
Chapter Fourteen
The stronghold seemed to be a maze of endless stone corridors, punctuated by the occasional giant room with towering ceilings. Everything was arched, fitted columns sweeping overhead, reminding me of a medieval cathedral. What few windows we encountered showed a barren landscape, the sky that same dark cloud cover I'd first seen, uniform and dull, as bleak as the browned earth, empty and flat of vegetation or anything else living for what looked like miles.
The stronghold itself felt endless, engulfing us as we walked, the vastness making me hunch my shoulders, tiny and inconsequential. What were we doing again? And why did I care so much? A heavy apathy rode my back, slowing me down until only prodding from Charlotte behind me kept me moving.
Gram finally turned to find we'd fallen behind and frowned. Her fingers touched my cheek again, Enforcer magic sparking my own power.
“Sorry,” Gram said. “I forgot about the warding. Any normal magic user would be weeping on her knees by now.”
I glanced at Charlotte, caught the tightness of her jaw, the way her lower lip trembled and nudged Gram. She squeezed my bodywere's hand. The change in her was
miraculous. Charlotte shook herself, wolf flaring in her eyes under the shade of her black hood before she snarled and bobbed a nod of thanks.
“Now, keep up.” Gram spun, setting a wicked pace. I used to run regularly, loved to play soccer. Had fallen out of the habit. I never expected to wish I'd kept it up so I could keep stride with my frail, old grandmother.
Frail. Yeah.
Snort.
Now that Gram's magic had freed me from the gloom, I actually started to pay attention. And feel my confidence rise. We'd been walking for at least fifteen minutes and, despite passing several Enforcers in their own robes, hadn't had one moment of trouble. Not even a sniff.
Maybe this would work out after all.
I increased my pace, driving myself to keep up with Gram. In and out, chat with Ameline. Easy peasy lemon squeez—
I rounded the corner and almost meeped in shocked. Almost. Only my surprise itself kept me quiet. My head dropped immediately, though I knew I was too late.
Quaid must have seen me.
Damn it, why did he have to be here? Striding down the corridor with three other Enforcers, trainees like him with their blue piping around their hoods and sleeves? I turned my head to the side, heart racing, knowing I was totally and utterly screwed.
Came level with him, caught his scent as he brushed against me, the tingle of his power, so familiar, so welcoming.
Passed him.
Kept walking.
No. Way. Did we really just get away with it?
I glanced back quickly just as we rounded another corner to see he'd stopped. Had turned to watch us go with a frown tightening his brows.
And then we were out of sight as the stone corner cut him off.
I held my breath while Gram cursed softly, but kept moving.
No shout.
No pounding feet in pursuit.
“Damned lucky,” Gram grunted.
She wasn't kidding.
“That boy is no fool,” Gram said. “We have to hurry.”
Hurry I could do. All of a sudden, I felt like my feet had wings, like I could fly, adrenaline flooding my system. But Gram kept to the same deliberate, if rapid, pace and I was now forced to stay behind her, almost stepping on the backs of her fuzzy socks, an insane giggle rising inside me as I realized if anyone saw her feet they would know.
And the jig would be up.
Gram rounded one last corner and jerked open a large wooden door at the end. I looked up the narrow spiral staircase built from thick iron on the other side, feeling Enforcer magic sweep over me as I passed through the door. It paused a moment before moving on.
Still good.
“Back entry to the prison tower,” Gram said. “Hope you like stairs.”
I sighed and started to climb.
My thighs began to ache after twenty steps and I marveled at how agile Gram seemed to be. I reached for my magic, to make my job easier, only to have Gram’s slam down over me.
“They’ll know you’re here the moment you tap in,” she said.
Gook to know. Instead, I was forced to use my own steam. I kept my eyes locked on her socks, falling into a rhythm behind her, panting through my mouth as we made that endless climb.
I was so focused on staying in beat with her steps, I ran right into her back when she stopped. Gram spun on me with a hiss, her cheeks pink from exertion before one of her hands clamped over my arm.
“Pay attention,” she said.
Her favorite chastisement. And she was right.
“This place has its own protections.” Gram gestured at a second wooden door, where the stairs ended. Another window, this one gaping and wide open to the elements, allowed in a whistling breeze, the scent of desolation so powerful I almost sneezed. “It was built specifically for the Enforcers to train and to hold our most dangerous criminals. It has no desire to prevent us from entering. You understand?”
Did I ever. “Getting out might be another matter.”
Gram's grim expression didn't make me feel any better.
“Stay with me,” she said. “My power will protect you. But if either of you wander off, the fragments I gave you won't last long.”
She might have told us that earlier. Charlotte didn't comment, face blank. I wished I was fearless like she was. But I nodded and squared myself.
Gram opened the door, the two of us right on her heels. The corridor beyond wasn't anything special to look at, more of the same, to be honest. But the feel of the place was completely different. Clingy. Challenging. As though it weighed us and judged who we were and why we were there. I felt the power Gram gave me stir and push against the old magic embedded in the prison tower, an almost arrogant flare driving the questing magic away. I held my own energy quiet, letting Gram do what she needed to, knowing one false move would mean staying here much longer than I intended.
She moved on, the circular top of the tower bending to our right as Gram continued with purpose. She stopped so suddenly I almost ran into her again, Charlotte's hand catching me and pulling me back.
“Two guards.” Gram breathed the words. Why was she risking talking? I tried to reach for her with my mind only to have her snap her finger against my wrist and shake her head.
Mental contact equaled power usage. Right.
Gotcha.
“Now what?” No way they would just let us wander in and talk to Ameline.
Gram made a face, an unhappy grimace. “I was expecting this,” she said. “Just give me a second.”
The wave of distaste I felt through her power told me she was about to do something neither of us would be happy about. But before I could ask her what she planned, her magic, mine tied to her, reached out to the two Enforcers around the bend.
I felt them, saw them as she did, as her power eased around the stone wall and slid forward, tucked against the floor. It slid under their feet, winding with such subtlety if I hadn’t been with her I would never have known she acted. Both Enforcers stopped moving, bodies going rigid as Gram's power took them over and held them in a soft, warm thrall.
Nothing overt. Not enough to trigger the protections of the tower. Just enough to blind them to our presence.
I could see through their eyes as Gram eased forward, knew she was in their range of sight. But all they saw was blank corridor. She turned to me, the vision snapping as she jerked me toward the door.
“You don't have long,” she said. “I can't hold them forever.”
Charlotte chuffed, tried to follow me to the dark metal door the two guards flanked, but Gram held her back.
“Hurry, girl,” Gram said. “And you,” she pulled Charlotte tight against her side, “use that nose of yours to make sure no one’s coming.”
Charlotte looked unhappy, but I shook my head at her before turning and touching the cold metal handle. The door sighed, magic parting under the touch of Gram's power in my fingers, the seal easing open. I drew a sharp breath, sliding inside, pushing the door closed behind me, my body registering the chill of the metal even through the thickness of the Enforcer robe and my jeans and T-shirt.
Ameline sat on a low chair next to a small table, a smile on her stunning face.
“Took you long enough,” she said.
***
Chapter Fifteen
It required all of my forced poise to keep from wiping the smirk from her face in the most violent way possible. My demon grumbled with increasing volume as I felt one of my molars crack under the pressure of my grinding.
“The Dumont family magic was stolen,” I said, skipping any kind of polite intro. Her perfect black bangs were still perfect over her smooth white skin, but one eye widened enough I knew her eyebrow arched in interest.
So Mom hadn't told her. Interesting.
Still, Ameline didn't seem surprised. Just curious. Which told me volumes.
“You had a hand in it.” Accusations-R-Us.
Ameline's cold smile and small head shake, her long, black hair rippling around her, stirred my hate for her a
gain. Even in prison she was so disgustingly flawless I could scream.
“Not I,” she said. “But I do know who planned it. And knew it was coming.”
No big shocker there.
“Why do you think I tried so hard to reach you?” Ameline's tone didn't match her words, coldness having nothing to do with empathy.
“To gloat.” I'd finally defeated her, brought her to justice, stood here a free witch/demon/Sidhe/vampire/yada yada while she was a prisoner. So why did I suddenly feel like she found a way to win?
“As you are now painfully aware,” Ameline said, stressing the word “pain” absolutely on purpose, “the information I had for you comes far too late.”
Pain was Mia's Goth name. Ameline's bitch meter just jumped sixteen gazillion points.
“I, naturally, planned to act, to stop the Brotherhood.” Her pink bow lips pursed, head tilting to one side, light shining from her hair as she leaned back in her chair, crossing one long, slim leg over the other. “The last thing we need,” like “we” needed anything, “is for the Brotherhood to have control of so much witch magic.” And she was on our side. Sure she was. “A pity you wouldn't listen when there was still time to act.”
My fault.
Hell no.
“You could have told Mom.” Weak, Hayle. Way to show your soft underbelly.
Ameline didn't respond.
“They wouldn't let me come.” Way worse. Way. I caught the flicker of amusement in her icy eyes, amusement burning a hole through my pride.
“You're here now,” she said.
Splutter, grumble, snarl.
“I'm done with games.” Gram was pretty specific about me not using magic. So I couldn't do anything against Ameline that required power.
Honestly? I wasn't beneath smacking her.
Ameline shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest, looking up at me as I approached. Attempted to loom over her. Yeah, looming takes considerable stature and I couldn't carry it off.