Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  “Um, how do open it?”

  “Ask it politely to tell you its message.”

  The suggestion took a minute to sink in. Mona thought back to how Smythe received his. Right, okay. The blue imp bobbed up and down incessantly, agitated by the wait.

  “I am Mona Lisa Kubreck. Please state your message.” She left off her title, and, oh, lots of things—like her family affiliations—but it worked.

  “Mona, this is Smythe. Meet me at the collapse site at nine this morning.”

  The imp, whose effervescent brightness she’d been trying not to look at with her bleary eyes, spun twice then blinked out. Good. At some point, she realized the bridge was as good a place as any to look for clues about Raine. She had a sinking feeling that if she found the person who set the spell, she’d find her friend.

  Mona rubbed her eyes, hiding the tears that had risen, and stretched her back. She was almost healed. “What time is it?”

  “Eight.” Protector Dupree perched on the arm of the couch. Whoever had first tried to wake her up—for some reason the name Tiffany sprang to mind—had left. Mona looked around. This was clearly an office, tons of computers and flashing lights. But no desks or chairs, just two couches. Good enough for the night. Now she could go back to tracking down Raine.

  “Do you have access to the people who were rescued last night? I’m trying to find if a friend was there.” But, oh goddess, did she hope Raine hadn’t been there.

  “We’re putting together a list, I can give you access once we have it.”

  “Okay, Protector—” His full name, Josiah Carthage Dupree, ran through her head but she wasn’t going to use any of those. She’d sound like his fricking mother scolding him. “Wait, we didn’t do that memory thing, did we?”

  “Call me Cart, and no, we didn’t. We need to, but not now.” He stood and walked over to the now closed set of French doors to the hall. “Take a left and there’s a bathroom with a shower; take a right and you’ll find a living space and kitchen. I’ll meet up with you in fifteen minutes.”

  “In the kitchen or the shower?” Oops. She’d meant to say bathroom, not shower.

  His gold-flecked eyes locked on her and a frisson of excitement raced down her spine. Mona hoped those would stop once she got enough sleep. She'd heard Weres often experienced intense instant attraction and lust; she just never thought she'd experience it too. He seemed affected too, if the slight growl he emitted was any indication.

  “The kitchen.” He opened his mouth as if he was going to add something, but then shook his head and walked out.

  She took a quick shower, even though she was putting on old clothes. Okay, she skipped the thermal layer and just put on her long-sleeved t-shirt, figuring that was closer to clean. With no way to blow dry her hair, she gave it a rough rub, leaving the jet black, corkscrew curls tumbling over her shoulders and down her front. She would let it air dry while she had a cup of coffee then braid it back up. Feeling more alert, she gathered up her outer layers and purse, then made her way to the kitchen.

  Cart stood leaning against a counter, looking out the window. Brown hair that was light enough to be called dark blond, shined in the overhead light. Definitely feline; she wondered what cat he’d become.

  She followed his gaze. In a crack between buildings she could see the lake. The view looked familiar but off.

  Looking away, she scanned the counter for a coffee pot, surprised when she didn’t see one. Actually the “kitchen” wasn’t more than a bunch of counters, a small fridge, and a large table.

  “Do I have time to grab something to eat before we go over?” With excellent timing, her stomach rumbled as she finished her question.

  He startled. Mona didn’t really think he hadn’t noticed her, just been deep in thought.

  “Sure, we can get something downstairs.” He turned and faced her, his eyes fixed on the wet ends of her hair for a moment before sliding to her eyes. “Bundle up. The stairs are inside but just barely. You got a way to dry your hair? And your shirt’s wet; it’s going to freeze once we get out.”

  “I’ll run back and give it another toweling. Do you mind going ahead and getting me some coffee? Please? Light with two sugars, three if it’s a large.” Mona headed back down the hall not waiting for his answer.

  She rubbed her hair again, knowing that it’d be frizzy now from the mishandling, but what was a girl to do. Mona braided it up so she could tuck the whole thing under her hat. Rats, she didn’t have a hat. She hurried back to the kitchen holding the end of her hair, grabbing a twist tie off the counter to keep the braid in. Bundled up she headed on down the stairs. “Barely inside” was right—rickety plywood walls let in the cold and wind, but seemed to keep out most of the precipitation. She opened the repurposed screen door to find herself in an alley she was very familiar with.

  D’Alessandro’s. She’d no idea they had an apartment upstairs. She’d worked in the kitchen for a while before she’d started training with Smythe. The chef had tried to talk her out of it and stay with him. Oh good, she’d definitely find something edible here.

  “Hey, Howard,” she said as she walked in the kitchen door.

  “Mona! So glad to see you! This guy, he came for coffee, but he didn’t say it was for you!” She got a robust kiss on each cheek from the chef.

  Howard set to work at the espresso machine making up a large, sweet, milky latte as he asked Cart if he'd tasted her cooking yet then expounded upon what he had to look forward to. Once done, the paper cup and a paper sack emitting a cinnamon laden scent were thrust in her hands.

  “Hey, you know I’m still training with Smythe?” she asked.

  “Waste of your talents, but if you’re happy, I’m happy. Now out. I need to get to work.”

  “What should I do with this coffee?” Cart asked as they headed over to his car.

  “Keep it. I’ll drink it cold later. Okay if I eat in the car?”

  “Only if you share.” By now the odor of cinnamon had pervaded the cabin. And she hadn’t even shut the door yet.

  “Say please,” she said teasingly as she closed her eyes and took a deep whiff of her coffee. Mona couldn’t help the moan that slipped out—the fresh brew smelled so good.

  Mona looked over at Cart as he whipped his head back. He unclenched one hand from the steering wheel and started the engine. Hoo-boy. Yep, he was attracted too.

  “We should go.” His voice sounded a bit hoarse. He cleared this throat. “So, what’s it like living in Buffalo?”

  “I’ve lived here pretty much my whole life so I don’t have a lot to compare it to. The town’s not as busy as, say, Toronto—I was in school there for a bit. Other than that, we’ve got decent restaurants, a downtown area going through a revival, clean energy sources. Not sure what else you want to know.”

  Mona reached in the sack and pulled out a pasty. Or tried to—a thick, gooey glob came out. “Monkey bread, yum!” Mona ate the bit then pulled out another. She started to hand it to Cart before she thought better of it.

  “I don’t think you can hold this and drive, you’ll get too sticky. Here.” She held the bit up to his mouth. “I can give you a taste now though.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  He had looked at the piece with hunger in his eyes, she was sure. Odd man.

  “Fine, suit yourself.” The piece was starting to drip, so she tilted her head up and dropped the chunk in her mouth. Stray bits of sugar coated her lips so she licked those off. Her fingers were getting very sticky, but it just seemed a bit rude to lick them and then put her hand back in the bag. Like double dipping. Yuck.

  She ate a couple more as she looked out the window; the southern start of the skyway was approaching. “We’re almost there anyway, aren’t we?”

  He grunted his assent, then pulled over, showed some type of pass, and went the wrong way down the service road.

  In the broad daylight the blade looked like a massive dagger embedded in the highway. Cracks and craters radiated out from
the center, an almost delicate pattern belying the instability of the concrete.

  He parked and pulled her attention away.

  “I’ll take some now.”

  She handed him the bag.

  “No, the other.” He nodded to the one in her very sticky, sugar-covered hand.

  Their eyes locked as she held the morsel up to his mouth. This time his growl sent tingles down her spine, heightening her awareness of him. Oh, wow, the attraction went both ways it seemed.

  He enveloped her fingertips with his mouth, his teeth gently grazing her skin as he removed the pastry. Sucking gently, he cleaned the tips of her fingers before he licked the sugary remnants off her upper knuckles. His hand came up and clasped her wrist, turning her hand so he could trace a path of kisses across the center of her palm.

  Her insides clenched and her pulse raced.

  Okay, like most other women, she’d read romances. But she’d never understood some of the “aroused just by a touch” stuff.

  Oh, boy, did she get it now.

  Cracked acorns, she did not need this. He could so easily make her loose her focus, something she could not afford, not if she was going to find Raine. Not if she was going to finish her training and become a Warder.

  Mona looked away, refusing to acknowledge how he affected her.

  “It’s killing me too. Let’s get this job done.” He got out of the car.

  “Wait, don’t we need to do that memory thing?”

  He turned and stood in the open door.

  “Mona, if I worked that intimate a spell in this confined a space we’d combust, and I’m planning to spend a hell of a lot more time combusting with you than we have right now.”

  Okay then, good to know she was right that he was attracted as well. As for the “combust” thing? She didn’t plan for them ever to have time, thank you very much. There was no way she wanted that complication right now. She’d finally found her place within the Folk enclave, a place she’d wanted to be, but her mother had refused to “let her conform” to. She wasn’t about to let her lust for him distract her from achieving her goal. And, if he was anything like the men in the local pack, he’d start to demand all her attention and her training would go to heck in a hand basket. Not happening, no way. She’d worked too hard to reach this point to give up on it now.

  “Let’s walk, and you fill me in.” Cart looked at his watch. “We’ve got about half an hour.”

  Mona grabbed her things and headed out. The wind off Lake Erie rushed against her face, cooling off her flushed skin.

  “Here.” Cart snatched his watch cap off and set it on her head. “Next time we need to make sure you have a hat.”

  “I do, in my car.”

  He merely grunted and started walking toward the lake. Mona fell in step besides him, gathering her thoughts and enjoying the sun, bitter as the temperatures were.

  “Everything started the day before yesterday when my friend Raine called.”

  Mona told him about the mall, then briefly mentioned meeting an elfling at the bar.

  “You work at a bar?” No censure, just curiosity.

  “Yeah, I’m good at it, I like doing it, and it’s not like I get paid or anything while training, so I need the money.”

  Cart merely nodded and waved at her to continue. She told him about finding people lurking at her townhouse, going to her brother’s to crash for a couple of hours, then heading out early to get to Smythe’s. They turned to parallel the shore and Mona took a sip of her coffee.

  “When I got to the Warder’s complex, the place was dark. Not sure what was up, I got out of my car and walked over to the gate. Or at least I tried to. The wind pushed me back and I stumbled away. Somehow, though, I triggered a set spell.”

  Mona swallowed, remembering her fear. “The ground split open and these two huge slabs of rocks rose up from the corners of the entry and smashed themselves together. If I had been on the area of the spell. . .”

  She shuddered again, and Cart put his arm around her shoulders.

  “The thing is—and you know this—spells don’t affect Warders, but a spell like that, which wasn’t directed at me, but on things that could harm me, would have worked.” Mona shook her head. “The color was the same angry glow as the spell I found on Raine as well as the working that destroyed the skyway.”

  She paused and let him absorb the implications.

  “Anyway, I ran back to my car, which was in a safe spot, thankfully. The lights for the gate went on. I waited a minute longer, and the Warder stuck his head out of the gate, told me I’ve ‘passed the test’ and to go home and study chapters blah, blah, blah. I was so tired and shaken I just left and didn’t think anything of it until much later.” She paused. “I think—”

  Cart held up his hand to stop her. “I do want to know what you’ve surmised, but not now. First tell me what happened, then we’ll start putting the pieces together.”

  Mona proceeded to tell him everything else, from Raine’s frantic call to being on the skyway when the working struck the wind turbines, to her worry about where Raine might be now.

  After she was done, he went over details, making her draw out far more than she realized she’d remembered. Including the fact that the Warder had told her to study a particular section of the Tome of Folk Lore, a huge book she’d been using as a her training text. This, Cart seemed to find very interesting.

  They looped back and headed to his car.

  “You need to do something for me—don’t tell anyone else all of this,” he said. “I’m worried you might be in danger if someone realized just how many aspects of all of this you’re involved in.”

  “And compared to Raine, I’ve barely touched the surface.”

  He shook his head. “I hate to say this, but it doesn’t look good for your friend.” Cart opened the car door and she climbed in, only aware of how cold she’d gotten once she was out of the wind.

  “You’ve got a couple of minutes,” Cart said after holding up a finger to let his crew, who’d spotted him and called him over, know he’d be there in a minute. “Finish up the monkey bread—you’re far too short on sleep and will need the energy. I need to find out if my crew learned anything new before our meeting. After that we’ll track down Raine.”

  Cart leaned in and gave her an absentminded kiss on the cheek, already looking over at his group. “Don’t leave here without me.”

  He shut the door and headed over to where his crew stood, examining the spot where the blade had entered the concrete.

  Mona sat and gulped coffee, trying to get her equilibrium back, and finished off the monkey bread—not because he said she should. She dug out her phone, couldn’t hurt to try Raine again. Damn, it was dead. Surely one of the Weres had a cell she could use. But there was no time to ask—the clock read 8:56. Time to go.

  Workers still crawled over everything, and a pair of ambulances sat waiting. She doubted there had been a stop in activity since they’d left.

  Warder Smythe arrived almost at the same time she did, crossing to walk alongside her. She caught his arm in his first stumbling step. She wasn’t about to let him fall out of spite.

  He looked awful, as if he’d aged ten years since she last saw him. Caught up in helping him, she didn’t realize they’d gotten close to the group until the sensation of crossing their concealment spell caused her skin to goose bump.

  “What happened the other day?” she asked, stopping them on the other side of the working, hoping here, away from the complex, he’d say something.

  “If you’d been on time you wouldn’t have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He let go of her arm and walked toward the group. “Announce me,” Smythe said, his voice more tremulous than before.

  Cart’s entire group turned at their arrival. Clearly a Were protocol she wasn’t aware of, this waiting to face the person coming until they were close enough to speak.

  “May I present Abner Smythe, Warder of the Niagara Region.”

>   Cart stepped forward and bowed. “Warder Smythe, it is an honor to meet you, if unfortunate that there is a need to do so. I am Training Master and Were Protector Josiah Carthage Dupree.”

  Smythe jerked at the name, although Mona didn’t think anyone else thought it was more than a worse than usual tremor.

  “I am leader of the Upper West Side Pack,” Cart continued. “Second in command of the New York Leadership Council and past president of the North American Pack Training Council. My investigative associates all answer to me.”

  Wow, she could learn something from him. Like the fact that he’d omitted a lot of information when he’d introduced himself to her.

  “Good. Someone who knows something. What do you think of this here?” Smythe used his cane to point out a faded bit of magic.

  They went off, leaving Mona to trail behind them. Sometimes Cart would look back at her, careful that the Warder didn’t catch him. She’d nod yes, or no, or shrug her good shoulder depending on how her memory matched up with Smythe’s analysis.

  The rest of the group crowded around, staying close so they could hear the Warder’s raspy voice. Cart picked up the habit of subtly repeating what Smythe had said.

  They hadn’t gotten very far when “Maven” was whispered down the line. Fighting the urge to turn around and watch the woman’s approach since Weres clearly didn’t do so, Mona followed their lead and did her best to neaten her appearance. About to turn around, Smythe pulled her aside, his grip on her forearm painful, even through her winter coat.

  “You need to stay in the background.”

  He released her arm and they turned to rejoin the Weres.

  The Maven was still several feet away, and she wasn’t alone.

  Nic?? What was he doing here?

  It was Mona’s turn to place her hand on the Warder’s arm to detain him. “That’s going to be difficult, as the gentleman with her is my brother.”

  “Then stay here and don’t get introduced.”