“What are you charging Gareth with?” I asked.
“Seems like you should be worried about what I’m going to charge you with rather than what’s going on with Gareth. So, you’re Legacy, we know that much.”
“Then if you know that much there’s not really much more I can tell you.”
His lips twisted between a scowl and a frown. We assessed each other for far longer than was necessary to sum each other up.
“Okay, Ms. Michaels. We have no interest in making this more than just a discussion period. You walk out of here without any charges against you. But you must understand the situation you’ve put us in. You’re sleeping with the head of the SG, a member of the Magic Council.”
I made a face; was there a tape or something? How did everyone know?
He smiled. “It’s not like it’s a secret. You’ve killed Harrah, the head of the Council and the human/supernatural liaison, and were about to kill another member if you hadn’t been stopped. You broke and entered the magical objects registry and destroyed a significant number of objects that we wanted preserved. You’ve killed three people—in broad daylight—who have been linked to an underground group known as the Brotherhood of the Order and associated with the murder of the former head of Humans First.”
Holy crap that sounds bad! “Well, anyone can sound bad if you list it like that,” I offered in an even voice. “What exactly do you want from me?”
“As you can probably tell, things are getting out of control and it’s a mess. And it isn’t helping that now there are rumors that Legacy exist. Not to mention the escape of the Maxwells, Declan being released, and the creature that terrorized the city last week. Apparently, you had a hand in taking the last one down.”
Hand? I actually did it. I get credit for murder of the so-called wrong person but only partial credit for the right one. “I’m not exactly sure where you’re going with this. But since your dossier on me seems to be quite incomplete, let me help you out. My parents were killed by the Brotherhood of the Order, leaving me an orphan at sixteen. I’ve run into several of them on multiple occasions, and they almost killed me. I was able to manipulate them so they thought I was dead and would leave me alone or—I thought I had when no one came for me. Then I was just driving down the street, minding my own business, when another group of them jumped me. Just because I happen to be the victor, I’m sitting here in front of you being accused of their murders. I didn’t murder them—I defended myself against them.” Taking creative license with the truth on that one. I knew I could have handled it differently, but I hadn’t wanted to. “And the reason you no longer have the Maxwells running around here, weird creatures terrorizing the city, or an actual Cleanse occurring again is because of me and Gareth. So don’t act like you are doing me any favors by not wanting to press charges. The way I see things, the scales are very much in my favor.”
He sucked in a sharp breath. “I never claimed that we don’t owe you a great deal of gratitude. There’s still the problem of whether or not your kind considers annihilating other supernaturals unacceptable.”
“Yes, and sending someone out to assassinate us is really going to make us not want to get rid of everyone. If you have someone out there planning to do another Cleanse, know that is your own doing.”
“And how is that?”
“Don’t condescend to me as if you didn’t know that Harrah summoned Mors to find the rest of us and kill us! So, the next time you have a group of Legacy banding together to do it again, remember that the first time might not have been warranted, but this one will be. You said you have no intention of keeping me here.” I stood. “I’m ready to leave.”
With a piercing gaze, he studied me for a long time. I wondered what he saw, a person inured by tragedies or a bitchy freak without cause, and for a microsecond I cared. He kept giving me long sweeping looks, and I became decidedly defiant, a scowl pulling my face tight. The agitation of having my magic restricted felt more intrusive than the large cuffs on my wrists. Protective magic brewed in me, unable to be released and used. My fingers tingled and I wanted desperately to extend them and release bolts of magic. Perhaps he sensed that desire because he leaned in, his eyes narrowed to slits as he bared his teeth like a savage animal. I’d awakened the predator and it took time for him to master it.
“Levy, you’ve helped as much as you’ve hurt, let’s make that clear.” He blew out a breath. “I don’t dispute what Harrah did was wrong—”
“You don’t get to be so flippant about her summoning a demon to assassinate me and my kind!”
“As I said, it was wrong, but she was just trying to prevent a war that is surely brewing between the supernaturals and the humans. Humans are afraid, and fear breeds paranoia and foolish groups like Humans First.”
He was right—that was why they’d aligned themselves with Conner for another Cleanse to take all other supernaturals out. They wanted the same thing for different reasons.
“I want you to help us find all Legacy,” he blurted.
“Then what?”
He stayed expressionless for too long. His eyes went hauntingly vacant and were hard to read. It made me feel more like prey, and I hated that feeling.
“Nothing. We form an alliance. A treaty.”
“And that’s it? You’re not going to restrict our magic, in any way?”
He sucked in another sharp breath and considered the question. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“How many. Levy, I can’t pretend that we aren’t concerned. But I think there is more trust when everything is out in the open. You help us find them, you become the liaison, and we will come to some kind of agreement.” His voice was quiet but heavy with concern.
Although he didn’t say it, the hollowness behind his gaze aptly let me know that if not, my life was about to become a living hell and he was more than willing to make it his priority to help that along.
“Gareth. I’ll only do it if Gareth keeps his job and position on the Magic Council and is the person I report to.”
“No.”
“Okay.” I stood. “Thanks anyway.” I pointed to the door. “Do you need to unlock it or is it open?”
He didn’t even pretend to hide his disdain. His jaws were clenched so tightly they looked locked. “Gareth will be in on this and be an intricate part of it,” he finally said, but it took him a long time to concede.
I nodded. “I will agree.” Headed for the door, I looked over my shoulder. “I’m sure you are a man of your word, but I look forward to our written agreement in the next few days.”
That eye roll had to hurt, and he ran his tongue over his teeth as if he wished he had fangs he could use on me.
CHAPTER 16
I curled my legs under me on Gareth’s sofa. My hair was still damp as I hadn’t bothered to blow-dry it. It felt so good to be out of my bloodstained clothes and in clean ones, and it was even better to be in Gareth’s loaned shirt. My clothes were being washed. There wasn’t anything that was going to get out the amount of blood that was on them. The jeans might be salvageable but I doubted the shirt would be.
The clipped grin Gareth flashed me each time I tugged at the shirt, going to great measures to keep from exposing myself was in vain. He didn’t mind. When I once again yanked at the hem of the shirt, pulling it farther down and securing it under me to make sure it didn’t ride up, he asked, “Are we back to that again?”
“Unlike you, I like to practice a little modesty,” I shot back.
The delight that played at his lips and on his features was just a mask that concealed the worry. His hands raked across his head a couple of times and then scrubbed along the shadow starting to form on his cheeks.
“Do you trust them?” I asked.
“I’m having a hard time trusting anyone right now. Harrah being a skilled liar and manipulator should have been a sign. It was, but those were the qualities needed to do her job well. Skills I thought would only be used to uphold the alli
ance and maintain the narrative we needed. I never considered her ruthless. What they did was ruthless.”
He glanced at his phone that was buzzing on the table and then rolled his eyes at the number. “Will you please call Savannah? This is the fourth time she’s called. I suspect if I block her, she’ll just show up at my house.”
“Oh, she’ll definitely show up at your house with her ‘quest bag’ and the knife she looks very dangerous with.” Chuckling, I leaned forward to look at my phone on the coffee table. I had seven calls from her. I picked it up and dialed her number.
“At least you aren’t dead,” she spat out in a frosty voice.
“Nope, I’m alive and uninjured.”
“Where are you?”
“Gareth’s.”
“Give him the phone. I’d like to speak to him,” she demanded.
“You’re in trouble,” I mouthed to him and tossed him my phone.
His tone was silky smooth with a hint of humor as he greeted her. It stayed there, although his eyes narrowed in the confused way they did when Savannah chastised all of us in a meeting. He didn’t understand Savannah’s disbelief in boundaries. She didn’t care about his position, money, family connections, or anything else. He’d violated her implied rule that she needed to be notified about everything. I loved Savannah, but her concern was overwhelming. I understood it—my world was scary—which was why I wanted her to have as much distance from it as possible. Life didn’t work her way.
Savannah was giving Gareth an earful. “Yes, she’s fine,” he told her. Bemused, he gave a rundown of everything that had occurred over the past few hours. After he’d assured her again that I was fine, his wounds didn’t require medical attention, and the Mors couldn’t be summoned, something that I wasn’t necessarily sure of, she seemed to be placated enough to let him go.
“I’m sure we’ll get more calls as she thinks of more questions. Apparently, if you are within a twenty-mile radius of me, your safety becomes my responsibility. And somehow I’m obligated to keep her informed of all things. Aren’t you always telling me not to damsel you? What should I do?” he teased.
Giving him a twisted sly smile, I suggested, “I’d listen to me and ignore Savannah.”
“Really? Ignore her? I feel like that might be highly impossible to do.”
I grinned, remembering when I was first arrested, when Savannah had camped out in the SG office trying to talk to Gareth. “Don’t block her—ever. If you even for one minute think she doesn’t have your address, you are wrong,” I warned. I didn’t think he would but I had to caution him.
“She is persistent and very enthusiastic. Maybe she should have a job at the SG.”
“You want to give her a badge! Are you insane?”
He laughed at my response and sighed heavily. In a grave and overly serious voice, he said, “She’s very disappointed in me. Very, very, very disappointed.” As if it was too much of a burden to bear, he said theatrically, “Apparently, I’m your guard and I failed.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s okay, I think she believes you’re my handler and I should run everything past you before I do it.” I laughed at the absurdity of it.
His grin faltered, and his lips now drew into a thin, stern line. “You do realize that’s what you agreed to. At your request, you will have to answer to me as a liaison for the other Legacy. That’s why the meeting they had with me lasted so long. We were hammering out my responsibility in the role, their expectations, and some of the challenges we might face with you working under me.” He was quite pleased by that.
“Not under. Together. We are working together,” I pointed out.
“That’s not what’s going to happen. I must admit, I’m quite excited about you working for me.” He laughed and sauntered over to me. He leaned forward and kissed me on my forehead. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day and I just had a very odd dressing down by a civilian. I need sleep.” He extended his hand. “It’s bedtime.”
I was about to take it when he added, “That’s an order.” He just couldn’t help himself.
Yanking my hand back, I sank back into the sofa, turned the TV on, and started looking at it.
“Why don’t you hold your breath until I do?”
“What am I going to do about your insubordination?”
“I suspect you’ll get used to it,” I said in a cloying voice, giving him a toothy grin.
“Well, I’m going to bed.” He slipped off his shirt and started to back away. “I’m pretty sure you’ll be in soon.” And he turned around and walked away, with the swagger and arrogance that only he possessed—his special brand. I struggled to pull my gaze from him and to the TV. My stubbornness was stronger than any desire I had for him.
I didn’t expect things to go back to normal so quickly. Calling it normal was taking creative license with the word. I didn’t think things wouldn’t stop being such a gigantic clusterfuck so quickly. The FSR were still very present in my life, and weren’t hard to detect, either. Like the guys that had been at Mr. Lands’ office, they had that Men in Black look, suits walking around the city, generally hanging out at Coven Row and in Forest Park where the shifters usually lived. Savannah and I watched the two who’d been following us since we’d left the house. Five days since the incident with Harrah, and I’d received my contract to work with them and Gareth to find the other Legacy. Being paid for it was a bonus. Just as Gareth had stated, technically I would report to him—I worked for him. That didn’t feel good at all. And the smirk that he gave each time he reminded me of it was him dancing over those buttons he loved to push to rile me up.
Despite the working relationship we now had, I had a detail on me. “Do you have any idea how long they plan to follow us?” Savannah asked, but I was more irritated by it than she was. In fact, I think it gave her some comfort.
“They aren’t trying to be discreet; that’s a good sign. They want my presence known. Gareth said it’s until they have a handle on the Human Rights Alliance. They’ve been a problem.”
Savannah shrugged. “At the rate those nuts are going, their stupidity is a bigger threat to themselves than to any of us. How many of them have been arrested this week? Twenty, thirty? It’s just silly. But they’ve given the police, FSR, and SG just cause to handle them.” She smiled at the idea. She was right. Humans First had become downright civil in comparison, becoming the face of maintaining the human/supernatural alliance. Whether it was the FSR position or someone using questionable magic, Mr. Lands was singing a different tune. I think it was a combination of both and seeing what had developed from him taking over. No one wanted to be responsible for the Human Rights Alliance, and at the end of the day, Mr. Lands was a politician who desperately wanted to hold on to his legacy and reputation.
Savannah looped her arm through mine; not only didn’t she mind the detail, she was gaining far too much pleasure from screwing with them. The “girls’ day” that she wanted was the perfect opportunity for it. After we’d gone into the wine and painting shop, she’d turned her finished artwork that looked like she’d had one too many glasses of wine during its creation to give them a look.
At the bakery, the only thing I’d made her promise to add on our day, they glared at her for several moments when she approached them with cronuts. Initially they maintained professional stoicism, and eventually took a few. Who’s turning down a cronut? It’s impossible to do.
“When are you going to start looking for the others?” Savannah asked as we entered a lingerie boutique.
“In a couple of days, after the Solstice festival.”
She wrinkled her nose, and her brow furrowed. “Why? Does it affect our magic or something?”
There isn’t any “our”—you don’t have any magic! But I kept that to myself and felt the blush of embarrassment warm my cheeks. “No, I just like it.”
I glanced over at a table of overpriced bras to avoid the satisfied beam that I knew she now had. The smile was in her voice. “I knew you like
d it! Each year you made it seem like I was dragging you there. It’s the best thing all year.” She was right. It had started as a festival for the witches and had grown into a massive event of magic, pageantry, floats, and parades. It had been reduced to what people do on St. Patrick’s Day and Cinco de Mayo: partying, drinking, staging spectacles, and having fun. Supernaturals and humans alike came for the celebration. For some it had another significance: the summer one was during the week of the Great War. The coming together of humans and supernaturals had significant meaning for some. But for most, it was another celebration.
“I know half the things you claim you hate you really like,” she huffed out before giving me a face. “Just like you’re pretending you hate it here.” She sorted through underwear that was nothing more than strings and minimal cloth. Knowing who she was getting this for was even more disturbing.
“I do hate it here.”
“Sure you do,” she mocked. Then she held up a bra and matching underwear to get my opinion. I touched the bra, feeling the fabric and the wire underneath it. I just didn’t get the idea of my breasts being hiked up with metal and contraptions or trying to walk around with a string stuck between my butt cheeks. But whenever I saw the way they made Savannah’s look in her clothes, I always reconsidered—until I looked at the prices. Savannah was reasonable about a lot of things, but when it came to the pretty little things and vampires, logic went out the window. Now that she was dating a vampire she seemed to enjoy shopping at these places even more.
“What do you think of this?” she asked, holding up a different set: a pale pink bra and matching barely-there underwear.
“Isn’t he a neck man? Whether or not you have on sexy lingerie or a tank and boxers as long as he can see a vein, I’m sure he’ll be happy. Really rock his world and put the thong around your neck,” I suggested, winking.
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