Viney glared back at her but I gave her a meek smile and opened my book.
Chapter 22
Mage
I was in business class with Penny when I got the email. I opened it, scanned the contents and quickly closed it. She didn’t notice anything. She was frowning at the book we were reading for class, marking up the text with a pink marker.
What was she thinking about? She never said what she actually thought, keeping everything close to her like I would steal her thoughts and leave her empty. Could I do that? Probably, but that wouldn’t leave room in my head for my own. Not that my thoughts were very interesting lately. I kept going round and round with the room thing.
Everything pointed to the obvious conclusion, Jackson destroying Penny’s room, but it made no sense. Rather, it made all the sense and Jackson wasn’t that rational. For him to plan to break into Penny’s room, there had to be something he wanted. Her trunks were impervious to violence and force, so heavily spelled that no one without her family’s blood could open them. I’d seen inside two of them, and there hadn’t been anything noticeably precious other than hat making supplies and elaborate tea party costumes. The tapestries were priceless, several mangled beyond even my ability to
repair them. That made me angry. Also confused. Jackson would know their value and steal them, not destroy them.
He knew that I wouldn’t allow him to touch Penny Lane. Neither of us knew why, but my reaction in the cafeteria when he’d grabbed her hand made it pretty clear to both of us. If he hadn’t gotten Wit, he would be in traction for a very long time. Jackson didn’t like traction. Why would he risk that?
I shook my head and smiled at Penny before leaving her behind and heading towards the stables. This assignment would be good for me, help clear my head, or fill it with noxious fumes. I grinned as I donned my leather riding outfit and heavy cloak then stepped from this world into Darkside.
After I took care of business in the military camp at the base of the mountain, I took one step back into Dayside then returned to the ash filled air of the mountain city above the camp. I stepped out from the dark alley and walked down the narrow street that tilted so I walked like a drunken man. Darksiders sulked around me, heavy cloaks covering their heads and large shoulders. It was a witch city, but with the war going on, there was heavy traffic of all kinds.
I raised my head to look at the fortress carved into the protruding rock above the city. That’s where he’d be. I didn’t have any business in that fortress, but when I’d stumbled on his location, I couldn’t pass up the occasion for a good chat.
I walked up the streets closer and closer to the fortress until I found a wizard’s square. In other words, gold was embedded in the stone, patterns of stars within stars, twined together, framed by five gnarled trees at each point between streets. I stepped into the exact center of those stars and cast a spell. My body flared green, star shapes coming to life over my skin in a neon flash before I vanished and reappeared inside a room.
I took two steps in the dim light, barely lit from glowing coals in the hearth, tripped over a body, and caught myself on the edge of a table.
“Light, please.”
At my words, candles flashed bright all around then dimmed as they began burning according to nature, at least nature in Darkside. Instead of gray stone, it was a charming collection of gold and burgundy veneer with heavy drapes and thick rugs behind the scroll-footed chesterfield couch. On every flat surface, graceful glass bottles rested with large glasses. I didn’t need to see the bottles. I could smell a drunken spree as well as anyone.
I ignored the body and went to the table, picked up a bottle of cobalt blue and maroon with swirls of gold, uncapped it then poured the contents into a glass, bubbles spinning around like a little whirlpool as I recapped the lid and carried the glass to the couch.
I sat down, leaned back, sniffed the contents then shook my head. “Music.”
It took some concentration, but soon the trumpets of a big band filled the room, followed by a crooning voice that soothed even more than the burnished gold in my glass.
I took a sip and winced. Ian certainly liked to brew his elixirs strong. Speaking of Ian, he stirred, raising up two inches and turning his head, face covered in long, golden, filthy strands of hair.
“Nice boots.”
“They’re yours if you want them. I don’t remember if my feet are larger than yours.”
“They were the same size last time I checked.”
I undid my laces and kicked them off revealing my socks in the Rosewood argyle pattern. Green and Gold.
Ian sat up, leaning one arm on a knee and squinted at me. “Dim.” The candles all responded to his command, leaving us in shadowy darkness. “What is this? Frank Sinatra?” His voice was raspy.
“Sammy Davis Jr. Don’t tell me you drink in silence. It’s not healthy. How are you supposed to drown out the demons without music?”
He snorted and grabbed the glass out of my hand. He threw it back, gasped and choked. His eyes watered while he stared at me, face turning an interesting shade of purple while I tapped my fingers on the arm of the couch, raising the light level to somewhere between bright and dim.
“What was that poison,” he gasped.
I’d changed the liquid while he complimented my boots. He would never mention something personal if he wasn’t in desperate need of sobriety. “Jasper makes it for me. I believe he calls it natural consequences, but there’s not very much nature in it.”
He breathed shallowly, in and out, before he sprang to his feet and dashed to the closet where he kept the plumbing. He threw up for a long time, getting the alcohol out of his system. Good. He might be coherent in a few minutes.
While I waited for him, I went to the table and poured myself another glass of golden death. When Ian came out, his hair was damp, his face washed along with his hands. His clothing was still stained and frankly revolting. He’d been having a very good time.
“How did you find me?”
I raised an eyebrow as I leaned back, enjoying the crackling fire in the hearth mixed with the music. “I had to release someone.”
“That explains the blood.”
I frowned then followed his glance down to the glass where I’d left faintly pink fingerprints. I put down the glass and pulled out a handkerchief, the one with a rose embroidered in the corner. I hesitated before I wiped my fingers on the white fabric.
“You still have some of those left?” Ian smiled slightly as he went to a large carafe and poured himself some water. He leaned on the edge of the sturdy table, sipping and watching me over the rim.
I smirked at him. He looked like a Darksider but he remembered the hours we’d spent in detention embroidering handkerchiefs. “Yes. I have three remaining, two. One isn’t currently in my possession.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But you intend to retrieve it?”
I shrugged. “Eventually. How are things?”
He laughed, a short bark that made me a little more wary than I already was. I sank deeper into the couch and crossed my legs.
“Are you here to interfere?”
I smiled at him, showing my teeth. “I told you why I’m here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Really? You just dropped by for a chat?”
I nodded. “Yes, actually. I thought I’d invite you back. We’re having Blackheart for midfest tourney and we could use you, but probably not in your current condition.”
He growled at me. I smiled back until he turned and gripped the table with his fingers. Finally, he gulped down an enormous container of water. He slammed it down on the table and I tossed him an apple. He caught it, rolled it around in his hands before he gave me a flat glare and took a large bite out of it.
I exhaled while he chewed. I’d been patient with Ian for a long time. I was getting bored. He strode to the fire and stirred it with the poker before turning towards me.
He’d put the poker down, also boring.
“W
hat did you release him for?”
I shrugged. “It was time. One hundred and thirty-eight years of service is a long while, even for Huntsman inc, to keep a Darksider sane. He turned on his companions, took out an even dozen before he was neutralized.”
“A rager?”
I nodded.
“Did you personally ‘release’ him?”
I smiled, showing my teeth. “I did.”
I could still smell the reeking Darksider, the blood, sweat and death that clung to him like an already rotting corpse. Two enormous men held him up between them, the soldier’s eyes empty of reason, humanity, oozing blood and something else, puss probably.
“Is Jasper here with you?” Ian’s voice was careful, eyes wary.
I smiled. “No one is here with me.”
“You ended a Rager without any assistance? Do you have any injuries?”
I sighed. It had been far too long since I’d seen Ian. He was acting like he didn’t know me at all.
I took a long, slow sip of the golden liquid in the cup while I closed my eyes, reliving my most recent release.
I’d pulled out the printout from inside my shirt, ran my fingers around the edges of the still mostly white paper with a name and number on it.
“Horace Bellbody?”
The creature between the two men stared at me, oozing. I could hear his breath, rattling through him like an old air conditioner.
“I release you from the service of Huntsman incorporated. Thank you for your noble service.” I ripped the paper in half down the middle, a fast tear that went through the creature like I’d just ripped him.
He threw his head back and screamed, throwing off the two men like they were bowling pins and rushed me, breaking through the chains like paper. Sparks filled my vision before he struck me, magic filling the air and my throat with a pungent aroma of jasmine.
With one half of the torn paper, I decapitated him using the side with his name printed in neat black letters, well, now smeared red. The other side of the paper I expanded into an explosion of white confetti attached to strands of green, shielding me from the furious magic before I folded it out and over the specks of wild magic until it was contained in one neat package. I’d always been good with origami.
Ian cleared his throat and I opened my eyes. He still stood at the table, frowning from beneath his stringy hair.
“I love what you’ve done with your hair. It reminds me of Lester. He’s left the Chemiss to join the Philosophia.”
Ian gave me a tiny nod.
“I don’t remember you being such a good listener. If you continue with your charming silence I’ll be forced to regale you with tales of Rosewood.”
He cocked his head and he smiled slightly before he took a deep, even breath of the noxious Darkside air. “It’s the pull. It’s unbearable when I’m conscious. She doesn’t want me in Darkside.”
I winced and curled my lips. “Ah, the divine Witley misses her golden dragon.”
“Golden Goose.”
I shook my head. “She would never kill you. She’s far too practical for that.”
He scowled at me then laughed and dropped down on the couch beside me, a boneless flop that left him staring at the ceiling. “True enough. How did you find me?”
“I heard that my mercenaries are fighting a war over a pretty dragonlord. I have to thank you for the business. I expected you to be wrapped in the arms of a witch.”
He closed his eyes. “She’s leading the charge against Helystia. I haven’t seen a witch for days. I think that they’ve forgotten all about me.”
“Poor Ian, nothing to do but drink by yourself, I’m so glad I dropped by. I love being useful.”
He opened his eyes and stared at me, his head still lolled back before his nostrils flared and he sniffed, deeply.
“What flavor of witch are you wearing? She’s lovely.”
I growled before I remembered that I was supposed to be a human or something.
“Nothing. That is, there are so many females how can I know which scent you’re catching?”
He raised a golden eyebrow, the most seductive look in his repertoire. I should feel flattered that he was using it on me, but he wasn’t. He was aiming it at the female he’d caught scent of. Ian was like that, couldn’t help it. “Sugar and blood. Semi-sweet chocolate, no, chocolate is all wrong. Sweet and fluffy, candy canes? No, not peppermint.”
I threw myself off the couch and away from him, taking my place at the table where he’d been not long before. “It’s lollipops not candy canes, and strawberries, not chocolate. Also, she’s mine and I will kill you if you touch her.”
His eyes flickered gold at that challenge but he only raised his eyebrows for a moment before smirking. “You’ve fallen for a witch? The mighty Drake Huntsman who swore that he would never be a pathetic slave like his friends has finally tasted the poison of love?”
I gripped the edge of the table and scowled at my boots where they were strewn over the floor. “I wouldn’t call it love.”
He laughed a wild delightful sound that was like golden bells. He’d definitely been in Darkside too long if he sounded like that. “She has your handkerchief. Which one?”
I scowled at him before I went to the fireplace and jabbed it a few times with the poker. Flames roared from my energy more than the poker, swirling orange and gold mixing with green flames and sparks.
“It’s not like that. I am protecting her from the other witches. It’s my hatred for them which brings us together, not my attraction towards her.”
“But there is attraction? No, she’s probably hideously ugly, cruel, a true beast.”
“Strawberry golden curls past her waist, legs like a sylph, hands…” I snarled at him. I’d actually fallen for his baiting like a completely instinct-controlled imbecile.
He laughed again and leaned forward over his knees, eyes bright and burning. “Do you want me to kill her for you? She doesn’t possess you yet, does she?”
I swallowed and held very still. Was this why I’d come to Ian, to help me escape my growing fascination for Penny Lane? “No. Never.”
“Never possess you, or never kill her?”
I poured myself a drink with shaking hands. I should say both. I had to say both, but the idea of owned by Penny Lane had been slithering around the back of my mind ever since I’d threatened to bind myself to Penny. There were distinct advantages to it. She could challenge Witley, I could fight for her, and then we could free Ian. Would she ever agree to that? She hated Wit, instinctively and at first sight.
Wit had tried to be charming, friendly, but Penny barely kept from snarling at every encounter. If Penny saw Ian as a poor wounded animal that she had to nurse back to health… I scowled at Ian. His reputation was even worse than mine, which was saying something. It wasn’t only his reputation. He tried to seduce every virgin he’d ever met. It wasn’t his fault, not entirely but that didn’t change the reality. If he seduced Penny, I would break him.
“No one is going to hurt Penny.”
He curled his lips in a delighted smile. “I’ll drink to that. I’m so glad you stopped by.”
Chapter 23
Witch
Saturday came quickly. My life was a blur of studying, mixing potions, making lollipops and going to classes.
I got up, dressed in my cute freshly sewn pink blouse with little heart cut-outs beneath the neckband. The floral skirt was a little bit longer than usual, because I was hanging out with Viney, not Zach whose love key I still hadn’t cracked.
When I came out, Viney was sitting at a table, slumped over looking haggard, even her glare at me lackluster. She sipped from her steaming cup of coffee.
“You look great, but a little bit tired. Oh, you must have been up all night with the sorority club. What was it called, Famiss?”
“Makiss. Who told you about that?” She snarled at me and had a bit more energy as I plopped down beside her.
“Zach. Last Friday you were howling li
ke wolves. I thought we were under attack.”
“She almost went out to see, wearing her stunning lace robe.”
Zach smiled at me, his eyes twinkling a little bit as he sat down with his own cup of coffee. I fiddled with my skirt hem. Coffee was not food and that much caffeine on an empty stomach would turn me into a homicidal weasel.
“I’ll go get some breakfast and be right back.”
“I brought food, enough even for you, hungry girl.” Drake’s voice wafted around me almost as delicious as the scent of bacon.
I inhaled deeply, clasping my hands to my heart. “Drake, I nominate you for a promotion.”
“What’s his current position?” Zach looked up at me from his cup of coffee.
“By the door.” I patted the chair beside me. “How did you know that I was craving bacon?”
Drake grinned at me, his green eyes glimmering beneath the fall of his auburn hair that looked genuinely mussed and not very stylish. “It’s my job to know and give you everything you crave.”
My stomach tightened and those butterflies fluttered around but maybe that was just because I was starving. I resisted the urge to grab his arm and pull him down as he laid out breakfast from the bags he carried.
“Are you trying to be slow?”
He turned his head and his mouth was inches from mine. “It’s also my job to drive you crazy before I give you satisfaction.”
I sighed breathily, leaning even closer to him until I was dizzy with his black cherry scent. “If only I wasn’t crazy already. Oh, that reminds me!”
I got up and went to my room, flipping my skirt kind of ridiculously in hopes that someone was looking at my legs. Besides Viney. I came back with a bag I’d sewn a russet weasel to the front of and held it out for Drake.
He was sitting at the table at that point and took it with a puzzled glance. “What is this?”
I handed a bag to Viney, black with skulls, and Zach, an applique of his favorite video game bad guy.
“I made lollipops. I know it’s not much, but it’s my thank you for all your help with my room. The red ones are raspberry, the dark brown tiramisu, light brown mulled cider, and the dark purple ones are…” I gave Drake a sidelong glance before I beamed at Zach and Viney. “Anyway, that’s what’s in the bags.”
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