Carnival of Secrets

by Melissa Marr

  Aya lifted her hand as if to strike Evelyn, but moved no further. “Don’t test me, Mother.”

  The older witch snorted, and then she looked at Mallory as if her daughter wasn’t poised to strike her. “You can come to the office in an hour. If Adam’s in our world, I’ll know where he is. If not, he’s over there.”

  Mallory knew her aunt was cold, but this was ridiculous. “Tell me what he took. I’ll give it back to them, and . . . you can talk to them, right? There has to be—”

  “Come in an hour.” Evelyn turned sharply on her heel and walked away, leaving Mallory with a witch-daimon and a daimon.

  Mallory looked at the daimon, who once more stood beside Aya. He didn’t act like he wanted to destroy Aya, but rather like he wanted to protect her. She was half-daimon though, so maybe that was the difference. Daimons had devoured witches for centuries. Evelyn, like many witches Mallory had met, saw all daimons as dangerous, and Mallory herself had no evidence to the contrary—aside from Kaleb, although he wasn’t particularly lacking in dangerousness.

  “I’m completely bound to her will,” the daimon, Belias, said. “I cannot hurt you without Aya’s consent, and she is your family. You are safe with us.” He paused and glanced in the direction that Evelyn had gone. “Probably safer than with her.”

  Mallory allowed herself to smile at him, but didn’t admit aloud that she agreed.

  Aya glanced at Belias before saying, “My mother won’t tell me who fathered me, but I was raised in The City. I knew only that witches were horrid things that had to be kept in control, that they were to be feared.”

  “I’ve heard the same about daimons,” Mallory hedged.

  “No one is automatically good or bad because of their species.” Aya shook her head. “Although my mother makes a great case for witches being unlikable. Hopefully, you’ve known witches who were otherwise.”

  Mallory fought against a sudden wave of sorrow. “My father. He’s good and kind.” She thought about the way Adam had treated Kaleb and added quietly, “Mostly.”

  They stood awkwardly for a moment. Aya and Belias seemed perfectly calm, as if Evelyn hadn’t just been flinging Belias aside and he hadn’t been trying to cut her. It reminded Mallory of the calm she could reach when she was training. The difference, for her at least, was that she hadn’t ever had to test that calm in true conflict. No one had ever tried to kill her, and the thought of it happening pretty much eliminated any calm she felt.

  “If they took him, you’ll need a guide in The City,” Aya pointed out.

  Mallory hesitated. The distrust she had for Evelyn was a result of Evelyn herself, not her species. The reality was that Mallory needed answers and allies. Her only truly trusted ally, her father, was missing, and if her suspicions were right, he was in danger. She felt an innate trust of Kaleb, but he was one daimon—and she didn’t want to mention him just yet.

  “I guess we have an hour to kill before we go see Evelyn,” Mallory offered in as even a voice as she could muster.

  CHAPTER 32

  KALEB HALF EXPECTED MALLORY to shoot him when he returned. He wondered if Adam might turn up; he even considered the possibility that Mallory would be gone. What he didn’t expect was to see a daimon sitting in Mallory’s living room—especially a daimon who was supposed to be dead.

  “Belias? What are you doing here?” Kaleb paused and scanned the room.

  “Waiting.”

  The trickle of fear Kaleb felt was tempered by the lack of threat he read in Belias’ posture. The ruling-caste daimon sat casually in the living room, seemingly transfixed by the television. He flicked through channels rapidly, and Kaleb recognized the same sense of awe that he’d felt when he’d first seen a television.

  Tentatively, Kaleb started, “I thought you were . . .” His words faded. “You lost your match to Aya.”

  “That would make me dead, wouldn’t it? It should mean that Aya killed me, right?” Belias finished. “No. She sent me here instead, imprisoned me in a witch’s circle.”

  “Oh.” Kaleb stared at him. There was nothing he could think to say. He didn’t want to ask Belias if he knew that Aya was a witch too—or if he knew that she was bound to Kaleb or that Marchosias wanted to breed her. None of that seemed helpful to mention.

  Aya walked in. “I see you’ve met my familiar.”

  “Your—” Kaleb looked from Belias to Aya. In that moment, he feared that she was more of a threat despite their bargain. She was a witch here in his wife’s home. Perhaps she was here because of a threat to Mallory. He couldn’t process the tangle of threats beyond realizing that this was even worse than the way he felt when he saw danger to Zevi. He looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of order, but Aya was a powerful witch. Kaleb sincerely doubted that Mallory would’ve stood much chance against her. She might have been raised by a witch, but that didn’t change what she was. Worse still, she didn’t know what she was.

  “Mallory?” he called.

  The thought of fighting both Aya and Belias was about as appealing as fighting Marchosias—or Adam. He’d do it if he had to, but he was really hoping that Aya was here as an asset, not a hindrance. We have a bargain. It’s fine. It was Aya’s magic that had bound them though. His twinge of fear blossomed.

  “Mallory!” he called again, louder this time.

  His wife walked into the room. For a moment, he thought she was going to come to him, that she was happy to see him, but midway into the room she stopped cold. Her smile vanished as she remembered that she was mistrustful or angry or whatever term she called her emotions. “Did you learn anything?”

  “I went to The City and asked my packmate to start tracking down what he could there, and then I went to Adam’s offices. They told me nothing, but they’re going to report it to his superior. I don’t know who that is but—”

  “Evelyn,” Mallory interrupted. “The one I told you about: my aunt. Aya’s mother. She’s the witch in charge of everything, and she’s why we live here.”

  “Aya’s mother is your aunt?” Feeling a bit like the world around him had become utterly unfamiliar, he turned his gaze to the witch he had taken into his protection. Her placid expression remained unchanged as well.

  He continued, “The witch in charge of here—”

  “Of everywhere, actually,” Mallory interjected. “She’s head of the Witches’ Council.”

  “Your mother is the head of the Witches’ Council, and you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked. “I think you need to fill me in on a few things, Aya.”

  “I told you I would look into the situation. What I didn’t mention was that my mother is the witch who runs the Witches’ Council.” She didn’t react as Belias dropped the remote and stood at her side. “She summoned Belias. Today, she introduced me to my cousin.”

  Kaleb couldn’t comment on the cousin part just yet. All he said was, “About that—I thought you killed Belias?”

  “Poisoned him to make him look dead. Witch magic,” Aya said. “Then Evelyn summoned him so I didn’t have to kill him for real.”

  “Enslaving him was better?”

  “She didn’t want to lose,” Belias said, so mildly that Kaleb wasn’t sure if he was accepting or hiding anger. “If she wins the competition, she can rule and hide what she is.”

  Aya stared pointedly at Kaleb, who said nothing. Obviously, Belias didn’t know that Aya was forfeiting.

  The click and slide of Mallory’s gun as she checked her clip drew Kaleb’s attention away from the bound daimon and the witch who apparently had far more secrets than Kaleb could’ve guessed.

  Mallory removed a box of bullets and another clip from a cupboard.

  “What are you doing?” Kaleb asked.

  “Getting ready to see Evelyn.” Mallory shoved a handful of bullets in one front pocket and a spare clip in the other. She had a second gun, a revolver, in a holster too. “Then, if Dad isn’t here in this world, you three are taking me to Marchosias.”

  “Mal—”


  “No,” Aya interrupted. “It’s a sound plan.”

  Mallory flashed a smile at Aya. “Thank you.” Then she looked at Kaleb. “I want to believe the things you said to me were for real, Kaleb. I want to believe that daimons aren’t inherently awful . . . and the truth is that I don’t have anyone else to turn to. If Dad is in your world, I need help. I know he took something . . . and either Evelyn will tell me what it is or this Marchosias will. I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

  Kaleb felt the weight of Aya’s and Belias’ attention, and he wasn’t ready to have the conversation he needed to have with Mallory in front of them. Unfortunately, he didn’t have many options either. He crossed the room and took one of Mallory’s hands in his. “I love you. I want to help you, but maybe it would be better if the three of us went to The City and you stay—”

  “No. If you find Dad, he’s not exactly going to trust you.” Mallory didn’t pull her hand away, but she didn’t respond at all to his declaration of love either. With the hand still holding the gun, she gestured toward Aya. “She’s not a weak witch; she stood up to Evelyn herself, and I know how rare that is. From what Aya tells me, the three of you were among the final contenders in some he-man”—Mallory glanced at Aya—“sorry . . . some who’s-a-better-killer contest that you didn’t mention. That tells me that you’re not exactly useless at fighting either. I have been training for my whole life. This”—she holstered her gun—“isn’t as useful against magic, but I’m gathering that there aren’t many witches in The City. If my dad is there, we’re getting him back.”

  A burst of pride and love filled Kaleb, but it was quickly squelched by an overwhelming pack instinct to protect Mallory—and a not-insignificant measure of self-preservation. He simply wasn’t ready for Mallory to learn that they were married or that she was a daimon. He tried again. “You really don’t want to meet Marchosias. If there are no other options, we can do that, but let me at least try to—”

  “Daimons and witches hate each other, Kaleb. I might not know your world, but I know that. If Dad is there, he’s not being treated well. Whatever he stole from Marchosias is important enough to make my father run for years.” Mallory squeezed his hand and whispered, “Please help me? You told me you would protect me. That means coming with me. Will you?”

  And Kaleb couldn’t do anything but nod.

  MALLORY’S MOOD FLITTED BETWEEN terror and hope as she walked through Franklin with two daimons and her daimon-witch cousin. She thought over the things her father had taught her, remembered how he’d injured Kaleb, and tried to make those details align with his directive to trust Evelyn. Two of the people walking with her were the aid Evelyn had delivered, and they both knew Kaleb—and, from the way it looked, trusted him.

  Which means I can trust him?

  She felt guiltily hopeful for thinking about that while she was trying to find her missing father, but her mind was a jumble of thoughts and fears and hopes. Her emotions for Kaleb were in the thick of it. It was impossible not to think about him when he was near her.

  He said he loved me. Not just once either.

  There was no way to truly believe him, not right now, but she wanted to believe him. She glanced at him, and he reached out as if he’d pull her nearer. She wasn’t ready for that though. There were a lot of answers she needed before she could let herself get closer to him. Trusting Aya was easier: she was a witch, Adam’s niece.

  “I wish you’d stay where you’re safe. Adam’s wards will protect you if you stay in the house.” Kaleb’s voice was low, making her step a little nearer to him. “I will give you my vow to do everything possible to find and help Adam.”

  Despite having just reminded herself that she couldn’t trust him, Mallory gave in to the impulse and took his hand in hers. “He’s my father, Kaleb. I don’t know what kind of families daimons have, but . . . Adam is my entire family since my mom left.”

  Kaleb nodded. “I have a packmate, Zevi. He’s my whole family.” Kaleb’s intensity returned. “I want you to be a part of my family, too. I mean it when I say I love you.”

  “We don’t know each other that well.”

  “I’m a cur, Mallory.” He paused and shook his head. “You have no idea what that means, but think of stray dogs in your world. The mangy ones that most people want to put down. In my world, I’m one of those dogs. I don’t think I’ve ever said I love you to anyone before, at least not since I can remember. I trust my instincts though”—he looked directly into her eyes—“and when we kissed, I knew. You’re it. The mate I want.”

  “The mate?” Her voice squeaked, and she coughed a little before she spoke again. “I’m not . . . I can’t. . . . You’re moving way faster than I can handle here. Let me find my dad, and then we can see where we are, if there even is a we.”

  Kaleb’s smile was completely confident. “There is. I felt how you were with me. We fit.”

  Gently, Mallory pointed out, “That could be just physical. Lust or whatever . . . it’s not that easy.”

  “For me it is.” Kaleb shrugged. “I’ve kissed plenty of daimons, Mallory. I didn’t offer to tangle with the head of the Witches’ Council or the ruler of The City for any of them. I didn’t tell anyone else that I loved her or him.”

  Mallory looked behind her to where Aya and Belias walked in quiet conversation. She returned her attention to Kaleb and insisted, “One thing at a time. My dad is first.”

  He nodded, and they walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence.

  GAZE FIXED ON EVELYN, Mallory walked toward the main entrance of the office building. It was odd that her aunt was waiting at the door, but it wasn’t as if Evelyn was ever what Mallory thought of as normal. Adam could blend with humans, but Evelyn seemed somehow other.

  A strange prickling began at the edges of her body, as if her nerves extended into the air around her. The feeling grew until it was more painful than uncomfortable. “What’s happening?”

  Evelyn beckoned her forward. “My brother is not in this world, Mallory.”

  “Stop!” Kaleb reached for her hand, but before he could touch her, he was flung away. He hit Belias, and the two daimons fell together.

  Aya snarled. “Don’t touch them again.”

  As Mallory turned her head to look at the daimons struggling to get back up from the crumpled heap, her vision seemed noticeably sharper. The color spectrum was wider somehow; tones and shades of hues she’d never seen were mixed in with the normal scope of her vision. She took another step toward her aunt.

  “Is there some sort of spell?” She sounded different too. As she spoke, she heard depths in her voice that hadn’t been present until now. “Is this to help me?”

  “No,” Evelyn answered. “I couldn’t care less about you, Mallory. Unlike my brother, I can’t overlook your parentage.”

  “I know you disliked my mother—”

  “I hated her and your father,” Evelyn said.

  Mallory flexed her fingers. A strange pressure filled her, and the need to stretch out was akin to a full body cramp. “You hate your brother? Did you—”

  “No,” Evelyn interrupted. “I hate your father.”

  “You know who my birth father is?” Mallory stared at the witch as she confirmed the hatred Mallory had long suspected. “Who? And what does that have to do with Dad? And what are you doing to me?”

  “Marchosias,” Kaleb answered quietly from beside her. “You’re his daughter.”

  A horrible clarity hit her. She knew exactly what Adam had stolen, understood why he never told her, and she knew why he wouldn’t return it. With dread Mallory looked from Kaleb to Evelyn to Aya and Belias, who were standing on the other side of her now. Her gaze returned to Evelyn. “My father is a daimon? So I’m a half-daimon?”

  “No,” Evelyn answered. “You’re all daimon. Selah was a daimon, a Watcher, and your father is a cur. You’re not half anything; you’re all abomination.”

  The sensations in her body were foreign,
as if parts of her were just now present. She lifted her hand to touch her teeth, but could only stare as she realized that her fingernails were gone. In their place were thick, curved talons like a bird of prey would have. She kept her hand upraised and stared at them as they shifted into something that looked more like claws.

  Lips closed, she ran her tongue over her teeth. They felt different, longer and sharper.

  Suddenly Kaleb stood behind her. He put one hand on her shoulder and the other on her hip. He whispered, “Concentrate on what you want to be, Mallory. Your teeth will not change unless you want them to.”

  Mallory looked over her shoulder at him. “I’m a daimon.”

  He nodded.

  “You knew all along.” She didn’t wait for his answer; she saw it in his eyes. Slowly, she looked from his sorrow-filled gaze to Evelyn again. “This is why you’ve always hated me.”

  “My brother has spent the last seventeen years hiding. At first, I accepted it. You were to be useful, a weapon against them.” Evelyn smiled as she reminisced. “He didn’t seek you out, but when I found the daimon who bore you, I sent her to him. He knew precisely what to do. He bound your nature, raised you to hate and kill daimons. Then, we would send you back—a perfect little killer.” Her eyes glimmered as she spoke. “My killer was already there, awaiting the time when she would know what she was. I planned. I bled. I killed for this . . . and then Adam announced that he would not send you back, that he considered you his daughter, that he loved you.” Evelyn stared at Mallory with eyes that were identical to Adam’s. “The spells kept you from being as strong as you are. They’re undone. You have guides. Go get my brother. He is in their world.”

  She looked briefly at Aya, and then she spoke some sort of spell and disappeared.

  Mallory didn’t know how to respond—not to Evelyn, not to the truth of where Adam was or what he had done. All she could do was stand there silently as the feelings in her body became clearer. Layers of witchery were being stripped away: Adam had wrapped her in magic, hiding her from even herself. It felt like waking up. She wanted to stretch until her body was alert.