Magic & Mayhem

by Susan Conley

  Two heartbeats later he broke off the kiss and they stumbled into the frigid air.

  She opened her eyes to see his gold-flecked irises had turned brown again. His thumbs stroked her cheekbones and his fangs were poking out from his lips. She sensed his exhaustion. He must be pulling on his animal side to keep going.

  If she thought his body had been warm against her on the bed, it was nothing compared to the heat he generated now.

  “Spell,” she blurted out. She didn’t want to have them tracked here. Particularly if Cart followed through on the intent his body radiated.

  He let go of her face and closed his eyes.

  Mona stepped away and made her way to the end of the pier, where she attached the beacon to a large rock and sunk it into the icy waters. The cold temperature as well as the depth of the lake would make the energy more difficult to follow.

  “Let’s get out of here,” she said, turning back to Cart.

  “Can’t. I don’t have any energy,” Cart said.

  Mona looked at him. It was true. And there was no residual energy here she could feed him.

  “Okay. . .”

  The water behind them erupted, spraying them with pellets of freezing water and ice. Mona screamed and ducked away from the deluge, moving back along the pier to where they’d landed, Cart right behind her.

  Or so she thought until she turned to find him still standing back at the pier, legs braced and fists cocked, watching the water, muscles rippling under his overstretched t-shirt.

  Mona looked back to where the water burbled from the explosion. Nothing came up out of the water, although flotsam churned to the top then sank again. No telling if they were from the bottom of the cove or had been sent along with the spell.

  “Cart!”

  He turned and looked at her. His face looked different, jaw elongated and his nose smashed into his face. Shit, he was on his way to shifting again. One of these times he’d fully turn and then she’d be stuck with a tiger. A tiger? Why did she think that? She was certain she was correct, but had no idea how she knew.

  Maybe the kiss? Oh yeah, his magic had imprinted itself on her memory. She resisted the urge to read what she’d found out—his secrets were his to tell, not hers to pry open without his consent.

  One final look at the water and Cart wearily made his way over to her. Mona saw how much suppressing his need to shift was burning up what little energy he had.

  The wind picked up and Mona started to shiver violently. Cart picked up his pace and hurried to her side.

  Wrapping their arms around each other they headed off the dock. Once in the parking lot, they were faced with two choices: a hotel or a diner. Of unspoken accord they turned to the diner.

  “Open until one a.m. That should give you enough time to recharge, huh?” Mona said as they entered the front door.

  Warmth blasted from a heater in the entry, bringing with it the smell of burnt coffee and fried foods.

  Their waitress clucked over their condition. They explained it by saying they’d just dashed over from the hotel to wait for their ride, and hadn’t realized just how cold it was. The woman shook her head at them as she took their orders, only slightly startled when they each ordered three course meals with extra sides.

  Alone with their waters, Cart sat tapping at the table and glaring at the front door.

  “What?”

  “I need to contact my group.”

  She dug through her purse and handed him her cell. “Averill has a landline, why don’t you try that?”

  He grunted in reply.

  Hot cups of chocolate were set in front of them. Mona wrapped her hands around the thick ceramic and sighed as the warmth seeped through. Cart spooned a couple of ice cubes into his, drank it, and asked for a second one. When it arrived he picked it up and headed off to the hallway by the restrooms to make his call. She could see him, but couldn’t hear him. Interesting. She wondered why he’d left.

  Mona looked around at the clientele, something she should have done when they’d entered. Very few people were hanging around in the after-dinner lull. Not one had any Folk blood. Outside of the one time she visited an airport, Mona couldn’t ever remember being in a place so barren of magical energy. She tucked the anomaly in her memory and examined who was there. A handful of middle aged men, a scattering of women, plus a couple of college kids who’d taken over a corner booth and had papers spread out in front of them.

  Which reminded her, tomorrow night at work she was supposed to meet with an elfling to assess his powers. She glanced back at Cart, still on the phone, a frown marring his face. He’d know how to handle the kid and his just-coming-into-powers situation.

  There was sudden stirring as most of the occupants finished their meals and lined up to pay.

  The waitress stopped by with their soups.

  “What’s the rush to get out?” Mona asked.

  “Shift’s about to start over at the plant.” The soups were slapped down and the woman headed over to bus the emptied tables.

  Too hungry to be polite, Mona dug into the soup. Like all good diners she’d found, this one had its share of Greek specialties. The avgolemono was particularly tasty.

  Cart slid back into his seat, tucking her phone into his pocket.

  “Anything interesting up?” she asked.

  “The incident at the hospital is all over the news, more snow is forecasted, and someone will be here in a while to give us a ride back.”

  “Hmm,” she replied around a spoonful of soup.

  “Oh, and your brother and Tania are definitely an item.”

  “I guessed that might happen when I saw them. And she did name him her protector.”

  “You sure you’re a Warder? You know, you see things not all of them do.”

  Mona laughed. “Nothing more this time than knowing my bro. That combination of protectiveness and exasperation could only mean one thing.”

  “I can relate,” he muttered into his soup.

  Mona chose not to reply.

  They ate slowly, talking about inconsequential things like which Star Trek movie was their favorite—they both chose Wrath of Kahn—and arguing over which would be second. Mona was for the newer prequel while Cart slammed it as being for “the ladies.” Agreeing to disagree, they moved on to whether the “fog bowl” or the “ice bowl” football game had been harder to play in, which segued into the ugliest uniforms of all time. Each new plate of food added much-needed vitality to Cart’s body.

  As he grew stronger, Mona waited for him to ask about the spell.

  Finally, when the booths around them cleared, he did.

  “I—” Cart paused. “Describe to me what you saw with that spell.”

  “The summoning one?”

  He grunted.

  “The runes, the power symbols, are a fairly basic summoning combination. But there’s something about the sigils and the energy attached to the spell that is clearly aimed at the balance, which would make the Were strong enough to shift. Somehow the working is rearranging things and pulling out of the Were the ability to assume their clan totem, whether or not they are actually able to do so. There’s this . . . this shock of energy, which. . .”

  Mona sat for a minute. How would she describe it? Cart signaled the waitress for more decaf. When she left Mona continued.

  “The energy scrambles their inner magic, then rearranges it to a new pattern. I’m not sure how, but their elf blood is supplemented in such a way that they closer to the correct balance, the one strong Weres have that gives them the ability change any time. But the energy . . . it seems like it’s only able to help out so much. Some of the shifts I saw . . . they got stuck partially changed. It was gruesome.”

  “But that’s the part I don’t understand,” Cart said.

  “I get the impression that whoever is doing this, when he calls the Weres back and they haven’t successfully changed, their magic is reclaimed, killing them. It’s probably just as gruesome, but then, letting
them live, that would be worse.”

  “No, I get that part, as horrific as it is. It’s the partial changing.”

  Maybe it was because she’d never seen a Were shift before, but she didn’t understand his point. Cart was frowning and staring blankly out the window.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Cart turned and blinked at her, his mind clearly somewhere else. “What do you know about Elfhaven?”

  “Besides that’s where my father lives? Not much.”

  “Well, some of the tales are true—the difference in how time passes, the beauty of the place. And some aren’t—eating the food won’t enchant you to stay. One of the true ones is that there’s a grove, a transitional zone between here and there, which you have to pass through to get to Elfhaven.”

  Cart looked around the restaurant, examining each person there before continuing.

  “Except for first generation Weres, who carry their clan totem inside them, when a strong shifter assumes an animal shape, it’s assuming the shape of an animal who lives in the grove.

  “You mean they swap out their body for an animal from Elfhaven?” Mona asked. She’d had no idea.

  “Yes, except our bodies don’t go to the grove; instead there’s a special place in Elfhaven they appear. This isn’t commonly known—I doubt even the Maven knows. And very few elves from Elfhaven are aware of the vault and its use. The shift starts gradually, as I’m sure you’ve seen, then there’s a burst of energy as the bodies are transposed.”

  Mona didn’t correct him. She’d never been invited to monitor the pack’s run, since the Buffalo pack banned females. Or had. That would be tough to do with a female pack leader.

  She thought through what he’d said and had to agree. “The piecemeal shifting doesn’t make any sense. Unless . . . by the goddess, are there mis-formed bodies strewn around the grove?”

  “No, I’m very sure the magic in the grove would automatically kill any such chimera. The goddess’s will wouldn’t allow the abomination to live. No, there’s something else going on here.”

  “Okay, but how does knowing what is going on help us get the person doing this? On the one hand, knowing what your enemy is capable of is good, but if this is the same person who has decimated the Buffalo pack, and they’re killing off Weres, we need to track them down whether or not we know the how of what they are doing, right?”

  “True. Can you trace the summoning spell back?”

  “No, something done from a distance like that, that’s not a skill I have. I’m not sure the magical traces are strong enough for me to follow. Could Tania?”

  “Perhaps. We’d have to get her in the right place at the right time, and then she’d likely do something rash. Or your brother would. Better to see if we can track the user down.”

  “We could . . . I could. . .” Mona gulped at what she was about to suggest. “I could stay in contact with the person shifting and get pulled back to the creator of the spell with them.”

  From the growl coming across the table, Cart was not happy with that plan.

  “You have my imprint. You could jump to me.”

  “Still don’t like it.”

  “We have to do something, we have no idea how many Weres he’s changed or killed.”

  Cart rubbed his face. “Any idea how Raine fits into this?”

  “The baby—” Mona stopped herself, not wanting to share Raine’s secret then realizing she had no choice. “Raine was raped.”

  For a split second, Cart sat slack-jawed. “Shit, he’s trying to kill his own baby?”

  “No, I didn’t say that. I mean, I’m not sure if he’s been trying to capture Raine or kill her. As for the baby being his, we’ll have to wait to find out after the baby is born.”

  “We need to get this guy.”

  “I know. First we need to find where he is.” Mona rubbed her finger around the rim of her hot chocolate mug, hoping something would come to mind.

  “That’s not going to be easy. Imps won’t go near him.”

  “Wait, how do you know?”

  “Tried.”

  They both slumped against the cushions of the booth. Cart’s energy was better, but Mona could still see he needed rest.

  “You need to take a break. You can’t track this mage and set up the protector station for the Buffalo pack. Both of them are full time jobs,” Mona said.

  “I’ll find him. It may take me longer than I’d like, but I will.”

  Mona didn’t doubt it for a minute.

  The waitress swung by. The food was long gone.

  “Mind if we stay and just have some coffee? Our ride’s not here yet,” Cart said, dimpling a smile at the waitress.

  “So long as you’re not the last ones out, it’s no skin off my teeth. I’m last on anyway.”

  When there were only two tables left, they settled the bill but stayed at the table. Cart had regained some energy, but Mona wasn’t sure it was enough to get them where they needed to go if their ride didn’t show up soon.

  “I need to work tomorrow night,” Mona said, remembering she wanted to ask him about the kid. “You mind coming in to see me? There’s someone I want you to meet.”

  Even across the table, she could feel him tense. “Who do you want me to meet?”

  “Some guy who looks like he’s on the cusp of changing. What is up with you?”

  “I thought it was your boyfriend,” he mumbled.

  She kicked his shin under the table. “If I had a boyfriend I wouldn’t be kissing and . . . and snuggling, and thinking about doing wicked things with you!” Oh no! A thought struck her. “You don’t have a girlfriend, do you? I mean, you don’t, right? Because I would take it really, really badly if you did. I mean, I know all this was kind of sudden, but you don’t go around kissing other people when you’re already in a relationship. Or at least I don’t, and I hope you don’t either. Oh, that’d be really awful—”

  He leaned over the table, a delighted smile on his face, and covered her mouth with his hand.

  “No.” He paused as she took a breath. “And I don’t go around doing ‘things’ with other women when I do have one. But as you already pointed out, this isn’t the time.”

  Cart removed his hand. Mona kept her jaw clenched lest she start babbling again.

  He looked out the glass door.

  “Here’s our ride. And, yes, I’ll come with you to work.” His relief at seeing the ride turned into a frown. He slid out the booth and stood waiting for her, having placed a generous tip on the table. “Typically the Warder should make arrangements so you don't have to work while training. But then, from what I’ve seen, Smythe’s methods seem to have been anything but typical.”

  Mona teeth started chattering two steps outside the restaurant.

  Cart opened the rear door and looked in at the driver. “Hey, Tiff, thanks for the ride.”

  Tiff nodded her head in acknowledgement, the overhead light shining on her deep red hair. “No problem. How’d the two of you end up all the way out here, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  Mona climbed inside and was surprised when Cart climbed in the back seat after her.

  “Jumped. Mind if you hold off the interrogation until later? I’m beat and cold and am going to try to sleep for at least part of the ride back.”

  There was a blanket in the back and he tossed it over both of them, pulling her to the middle seat while he fastened his seatbelt. Mona would have protested, except she was too practical to give up his warmth.

  “Sure. But don’t think I won’t ask you about it later.”

  A grunt was the only reply. Cart leaned against the door and rested his head against the seatbelt webbing.

  Mona leaned against him, far more comfortable than the door any day. A sure sign of his exhaustion, he fell asleep before she did.

  “Any place you want me to drop you off or are you coming with us?” Tiffany looked at her in the rearview mirror, gray eyes glinting in curiosity.

  “Oh, I
’m coming with you. I may not be integral to the team, but I am part of it, and will be until we find this guy.”

  “Good.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tiffany had pulled the car into in the driveway of a Victorian home in Lackawanna and left it running, both of them tacitly agreeing that Cart really needed the sleep. Mona snatched bits and pieces of sleep in the parked car, while Cart slept soundly for an hour or two. The sky was still dark, but lights were coming on in the second story of the house. The building sat back from the road and was surrounded with set spells. Old ones, which Mona noted desperately needed renewal.

  This was Averill’s house. Judging by the people Mona had seen come and go, and the well-trampled path in the new snow, the new Were leader had been dealing with visitors most of the night. The two protectors stationed by the door were not reassuring, although they didn’t seem to bother the imps that hovered by the lights. A large contingent walked by, waving at Tiff before heading in; the replacement crew. Tiff slid out and went to talk to the guards at the door.

  That wasn’t what pulled her awake. An imp hovered in front of them. Looked like rest time was over. This time she was the one to shake Cart awake.

  “Um, Cart?” He bolted upright and looked around. She pointed to the creature.

  “Not for me.” He ran his hand over his face, then leaned over the front seat and pulled the keys from the ignition.

  “I know that. Think I can go in and get warm first?”

  He turned and looked at the imp, who bobbed gently over her shoulder like a lopsided antennae.

  “Looks like it’ll wait. And leave the blanket in the car, we may need it another time.” He climbed out into the cold night air and she followed.

  His need to present a strong front to these Weres radiated off of him. He was back into efficient leader mode. Cart headed in and the guards by the door let them pass with brief salutes. Tiffany walked back to Mona, her thin, six foot frame barely moving in the sharp wind.

  “Don’t worry, that was a civil conversation for him when he’s short on sleep. Come on, I’ll get you something hot to drink and you’ll feel better.” She escorted Mona up the front walk.