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Summer Storm (Codex Blair Book 8)

Page 18

by Izzy Shows


  Damn it, I didn’t want logic.

  “I don’t want to put my friends in danger,” I said.

  “They’re your allies. You should value them more.”

  I sat back on my haunches, breathing a little easier now. That rock had really done a number on me.

  “It’s precisely because I value them that I don’t want them in a fight. I don’t want anything to happen to them.”

  “I meant you should believe in them more. Are you going to stop me from fighting with you?”

  I grinned. “I guess not.”

  “And why is that? Do you not care if I live or die?” He crossed his arms over his chest, but his expression was flippant.

  “No, you know it’s not that. I know you can handle yourself in a fight.”

  “And you don’t think your paladin friend can?”

  “No! I know she can. We’ve fought together before.”

  “Then why don’t you let her help you in a fight?”

  “Why are we even talking about this? What does this have to do with control?” I felt my temper inching up on me, and I fought to squash it.

  “What do you think letting your friends in means? It’s accepting the things you do and do not have control over.”

  I hated him when he made sense. And just now, he was making a hell of a case for fighting with my friends. I didn’t want to do it, but it wasn’t a bad idea when he put it like that.

  But I couldn’t call them in for this vampire situation. It was too risky--not so much for them, but for Dudley. One more person being called in could be seen as his losing control of everything under the sun.

  No, I had to handle this on my own. Diego wouldn’t even be a part of it, though he was no doubt good in a vampire fight, because we didn’t want anyone thinking he was the mastermind here.

  I was supposed to be the one protecting London.

  Would it be so bad if it was a team protecting London, instead of one woman against the world?

  Damn it. Now my own mind was turning against me, feeding me the words Diego had provided.

  I stood. “Are we going to fight, or what?”

  He grinned. “Sure, we can fight. Try not to let me kick your ass this time.”

  Twenty Nine

  Keyed up from my workout with Diego, I made my way down to the basement after he left to beat the shit out of my punching bag. I made sure to wrap my hands, and then went to town on the bag.

  He’d really done a number on me in the fight, but I felt more in control of myself now, like my temper wasn’t the one leading me, but I could use it when I needed to.

  Sure, I wasn’t perfect, and I’d still make mistakes, but with luck, things would get a little easier. Each and every fight or disagreement presented an opportunity for me to practice the skills Diego had started teaching me.

  And I wasn’t under any impression that this had been the last time we’d be working on my control. It was a skill that would likely need to be honed over time.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t congratulate myself on a good training session, though. Even Diego had said I’d done well, and the man didn’t seem to give out compliments very often.

  I landed a side kick to the bag, thinking about the lessons he’d taught me.

  How much damage had I done to myself by running off half-assed to take care of a problem when I should have thought it through a little more?

  I could have called in my friends on more than one occasion, but I didn’t most of the time because I didn’t give myself time to deal with anything. I just ran off to handle it myself. If I’d had an ounce more control of myself, maybe I’d have realized the benefits to having an ally or two with me in a fight.

  Certainly, it couldn’t have hurt.

  But, no, I had to be the Lone Ranger, going it alone when it wasn’t necessary.

  Part of me wanted to blame that on Aidan--the man had done everything on his own.

  And he died.

  But...

  Aidan didn’t prepare for things, and he died. If he’d been better prepared for Tyburn Tree, if he’d called in allies, he would have survived.

  Damn if that didn’t make a lot of sense.

  How many times had I reminded myself that Aidan had died because he hadn’t been prepared?

  And how many times had I listened to that warning?

  Clearly, not enough. It was a miracle I’d made it this far, and my fight with the Utakar was testament to that. I’d gone into that fight without much forethought, and I hadn’t realized that the fight had been won too easily, and then it had gotten the better of me.

  Raven would have known that the Utakar wasn’t so easily beaten. Raven knew everything under the sun, and they’d have been very useful during that fight.

  Why hadn’t I called them in?

  Because I hadn’t taken the time to think about it. I’d rushed in to get it over with, instead of giving it the attention it deserved.

  My fists flew faster and harder against the bag as I thought about this. What did it mean for the future?

  It was something to discuss with Emily, at the very least. We were at a turning point in our relationship where things were going to change no matter what, and it was as good a time as any to bring up a new change. Would she be willing to fight with me?

  I knew she had rules--but she hadn’t been called to fight Lilith. She’d deemed it a worthy fight because it involved a demon. She’d been called to Tyburn Tree, though.

  But would she fight things that weren’t demons, if I asked her to?

  Would she have fought the Utakar with me?

  I thought it was a worthy fight, but I thought all my fights were worthy. How could they be anything less than worthy if people’s lives were on the line?

  I didn’t understand that.

  Then again, I didn’t understand religion in general. That was a topic I hoped Emily would never try to broach with me. I just couldn’t wrap my head around the concept. I didn’t mind others having their own belief systems. If it worked for them, then that was that. And sometimes I wished I could believe like they did.

  Wouldn’t it be nice to give in and let someone else take care of the worrying for me? To know that someone was looking out for me no matter what, and that there was a plan for things?

  Yeah, it sounded nice. But it didn’t jive with the way my brain worked.

  I sighed, slamming my fist into the punching bag again.

  I was getting off topic, I reminded myself.

  I could control my body, and I needed to learn to control my mind. My mind was the vehicle which my magic passed through, so it was essential that I have total control of it. If I allowed my temper to rule me, my magic would always be erratic.

  I’d always be smashing my way through things.

  A small smirk crossed my lips. Others had described Aidan in a similar way, saying that he lacked finesse and an understanding of the finer points of magic, that he took care of things like a tank that rolled right on through. He’d made up for his lack of finesse with pure strength.

  It would appear that I’d learned more from him than I’d realized.

  I’d clearly done some damage, had derailed myself, by learning too much the wrong way. I’d have to correct that, and I was lucky I had Diego around and happy to help me. I could be a better person, a better Wizard. I was going to put my best foot forward with training from now on, and I was going to do my best to think things through.

  To not run off half-cocked and ready for a fight.

  I frowned, another realization hitting me.

  Dudley and I were out of control. The rebels had control of the mood, of the way things worked. We needed to take back that control, and the only way I could see to do that was to go on the offensive.

  Thirty

  I didn’t waste any time. I unwound the wrapping from my hands and grabbed my staff and jacket on the way out. I even left Weylyn at home--he was too conspicuous for what I had planned.

  Dudley pro
bably wouldn’t approve of what I was about to do, but it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, right? Besides, he liked to think that anything I did was an execution of his will. He’d made that very clear. So, he could deal with what I was about to do.

  My steps slowed as I faced Dudley’s mansion. I wasn’t here to see him, rather his servants.

  Was what I was doing well thought out?

  I remembered everything I’d just gone over in my basement and compared what I was about to do with that. I wanted to find the insurgents and figure out what their plan was. Maybe not kill them right now--I didn’t need to start a fight unless it was absolutely necessary. I was looking for information.

  It seemed like a solid enough plan. Find the insurgents and talk to some of them. Not the leader; they’d likely never sit down and talk to me. They’d want to have me killed just for symbolic reasons. But the followers--there was a chance they could be reasoned with.

  At least long enough to talk to me.

  I nodded, fairly convinced that I wasn’t running off like a crazy person to get myself killed. I made my way past the great doors that led into the mansion and headed for one of the side entrances--the servants’ entrance. It took me a minute to find it, since it was a big damn mansion, but once I was there, I knocked and tried to wait patiently.

  It took a minute, and then a very surprised woman opened the door.

  She was a thrall; that much was evident by the sunken look of her eyes. She was addicted to vampire blood. It was what they used to keep the thralls under control. As long as they wanted their blood fix, they could be owned, heart and soul.

  I hoped the woman had volunteered for the position. I’d hate to have to start a fight with Dudley, but that was the sort of thing that couldn’t be ignored.

  Not now, Blair. Follow the plan.

  I forced a smile to my lips. “Hello.”

  “Oh, um, hello.” Her brow furrowed as she frowned. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so.”

  Her gaze flitted to the staff in my hand, the stakes on my thighs, and then back to my face, and she appeared a little more tense.

  “You don’t recognize me, do you?” I asked.

  She thought about it for a moment. “You’re the Hunter,” she said slowly. “Dudley called you in.”

  “Yes. To keep the peace. I’m not a bad person. And Dudley would want you to help me in my mission, right?”

  She appeared more relaxed now as she bobbed her head. “Yes, yes, he’d want everyone to help you. You’re only supposed to hurt the bad vampires, right?”

  “That’s right. There’s nothing for you to fear from me. You’re human,” I said, beaming. “Well, unless you’re working with the bad guys. Then I guess I’d have some hard questions for you.”

  She shook her head quickly. “No, ma’am. My family’s been serving the Baron for generations now.”

  “So, you’re about as loyal as it gets, eh?” I winked at her. “That’s good to know. Can I come in?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  I put one foot on the threshold when she moved aside, testing it, then walked through. My magic came with me--I’d been invited in.

  “Who are you, in the household?”

  “I’m head maid,” she replied, looking quite proud of herself.

  I couldn’t imagine being proud to have a position like that, but it clearly meant a lot to her.

  “That’s fantastic,” I said. “So, you probably know a lot about what’s going on in the house, then?”

  “I don’t gossip,” she said firmly.

  I arched an eyebrow, stopping myself from pressing her further.

  After a pause, she continued. “But Betsy is. I could get her for you.”

  I smiled. “That would be fantastic. Thank you.”

  “Go on and have a seat, Miss. I’ll be right back.”

  I took a seat near the furnace, still holding my staff in one hand. I wasn’t going to let go of it for anything right now--I was in a house of vampires and thralls. It was impossible to know who was truly loyal to Dudley, and from what I knew, most vampires were free to roam the mansion. Any one of them could be part of the rebellion, and they’d want to get rid of me as quickly as possible.

  The maid returned a moment later with a rather pretty woman: curly blonde hair, luscious figure, though her blue eyes were sunken in as well. She must be Betsy.

  “Laura said you wanted to speak with me?” She appeared a little nervous, her hands flitting about to straighten her dress.

  “Yes. Thank you, Laura. That will be all.” I mimicked the upper-crust accent that Dudley used, and Laura disappeared rather quickly.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet--”

  “Yeah, I don’t have time for chit-chat, Betsy. I’ve got some questions, and I need you to answer them. As long as you’re honest with me, everything’s going to be OK. Got it?”

  She swallowed nervously, unable to meet my eyes.

  That was a bad sign. How did I know the household gossip was going to be in on the bad shit? Because a gossip would know everything under the sun, and if she was loyal to Dudley, she would have told him the moment she found out about disloyalty in the ranks.

  Either he had perfect control of his household, or Betsy knew something she didn’t want to share.

  “Betsy?”

  “Yes, I understand,” she said at last, her hands shaking.

  I closed my eyes, reaching into the well of power inside myself. I didn’t know if this was going to work or not, but it was worth a shot, right?

  The power threaded through my fingers until it was a puddle around me, and I pushed it farther out into the room as I opened my eyes.

  The woman in front of me was now glowing with violet light, which seemed to flare now and again. Her anxiety was most likely what was causing that.

  Or at least, that’s what I hoped. I hoped I could use it basically as a lie detector.

  “I’m going to know when you’re lying,” I said. It wasn’t entirely a lie; it was what I believed would happen. And if I told her that, she’d be less likely to lie.

  She swallowed, her aura flaring high.

  She was afraid of being caught in a lie. I was certain of it now. The woman intended to lie to me, which meant she was hiding information that would likely assist me in my quest.

  “Let’s start with some easy questions. Set the tone, so to speak,” I said.

  I was setting some baseline results, just like you would with a lie detector.

  “OK,” she said, her voice wavering.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Betsy Jones.” Her aura held strong.

  “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-three, Miss.”

  “What position do you hold in this household?”

  “I’m just a maid.” Her cheeks burned as if she was embarrassed, but her aura didn’t flicker.

  “All right. Now, let’s cut right to the chase, shall we?”

  She swallowed again--damn, the girl was nervous--and her aura flickered.

  “Do you know anyone in this household who’s disloyal to Lord Dudley?”

  Calling him Lord Dudley was difficult for me. I thought it was ridiculous, but I knew his servants expected it.

  “N-no...” Huge flare.

  “Betsy. Didn’t I tell you I’d know if you were lying to me?”

  She ducked her head, pressing her hands to her face. “I can’t, Miss, I can’t!”

  I switched tactics, opting to be gentle. “What’s stopping you? I promise, you’re not going to get in trouble. I won’t tell anyone what you tell me. I’m not looking to hurt anyone. I just want some information.”

  “They’re going to kill me if they find out I talked to you,” she said, whimpering.

  “No one’s going to kill you.” My voice was firm. “I won’t allow it. No one’s going to find out you told me, and even if they did, I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

  I meant it, too. She might be a fo
ol for listening to the people who believed these things, but it was hardly her fault that they were behaving the way they were. She was just the person people talked to. She wasn’t evil.

  “There are some people--vampires--I know aren’t happy with the way things are right now. They didn’t like the way it was, and they like it even less now that you’re here.” Her voice was so timid that I knew she didn’t want to tell me any of this.

  She peeked through her fingers at me, and I could see the fear in her eyes.

  Was she afraid I’d react negatively because these people were unhappy with my presence here? It wasn’t like this was news to me.

  “Where do they meet? You don’t have to give me any names. Just tell me where I can find them.”

  She twisted her hands together. “Are you going to kill them?” Her voice was a soft whisper now.

  “No. I’m not killing anyone tonight.”

  That seemed to calm her down a little bit.

  “There’s a warehouse, off the docks, where they meet.”

  I grinned. At last.

  A start.

  Thirty One

  I left Dudley’s mansion as quietly as I’d entered, with strict instructions to Betsy not to tell anyone else that I’d been there, and to make sure that Laura knew to do the same. I didn’t want any of the vampires finding out that I’d been digging for information and raising the alarm.

  Everything depended on my ability to do this as quietly as possible.

  I tossed my staff into the back seat of my car, got into the driver’s seat, and drove off.

  My hands shook on the steering wheel, and I did my best to school myself into a state of calm and control.

  It’s all about control. You’ve got this.

  But what if I didn’t? What if I was running into this blind, just like I did everything else? Retrospect always affords clarity as to what you should have done or how you should have handled a situation, but it isn’t so easy when you’re in the moment.

  Something niggled at the back of my mind, telling me that going in without any backup was a bad idea. What if the vampires turned on me, despite my intention not to antagonize them? I couldn’t handle a crowd of vampires, no matter what tools I had at my disposal.

 

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