by Susan Conley
Cart caught up to her on the steps, phone put away and the large tome cradled in his arms. The place was pretty busy, given it had been up for less than a day. Hyram stood just inside the door beside a manned desk that was clearly a check in point.
The lobby was circular, pleasing to Folk if unintentionally built that way. The three-story area was capped with a dome, which Mona could see needed cleaning as well as a renewal of spells. Interesting, though, that there were even spells there.
“They’ve set up a room for you on the third floor, and an office on the second, Cart. The Warder and his trainee have a couple of rooms set aside down here, past the gym. Herrick’s set up workstations down the hall to the left. He’s expecting you there.”
“Thanks, Hyram. Here, take these.” Cart handed the heavy book and Mona’s bag to him. “And put them in the Warder’s rooms, out of sight preferably, then come join the meeting. You have someone to cover the desk?”
“Wait, can you take my coat too?” Mona shrugged out of it, hesitating a minute since she did seem to be taking off suddenly, without a coat, a lot recently. But what could happen to her in a protector station? She handed it over.
Hyram gathered everything together. Mona hadn’t realized he was so much larger than Cart, but he carried everything with ease.
“Take the hall to the right, first door on your left. It’s behind those windows.” The wall of glass Hyram gestured to took up one side of the entry rotunda. “We haven’t cleaned them off yet.”
Not that they could—they were spelled opaque. They headed down the hall.
“You want me to clear the windows?” Mona asked.
“When I open the door.” He reached for the knob. “Now.”
Mona rotated the clarity rune clockwise.
People stilled around the workstations and tables that filled the room as activity ceased. Half were looking at the now clear windows and half had their attention on the door.
“Geez, Leader Josiah, you sure like to make an entrance,” said Herrick from his position along the wall. “And about time. What’s this about not using imps for messaging?”
Somehow Mona didn’t think it accidental that all the desks faced his. The guy had control freak written all over him.
“Pretty simple, no imps,” Cart said. He looked around the room, he had everyone’s attention now, his presence controlling the pack in a way Herrick’s never would. “The person who did this is manipulating them. Stopped all my messages for a while, which, I can tell you, turned out to be a pain in the ass.”
Mona filed the information away, wondering when he’d learned that, as she watched Herrick. His magic had the slightest taint of evil to it, the stain noticeably larger than before. Cleaning the cancer out now would be better than waiting.
“And Herrick,” Cart added, “despite the fact they’ve named you head of the policing side, call me Cart, everyone else does. Now, I want to see the chart my investigative team has on attack locations as well as families attacked and I’ll add to it. Do we have a conference room?”
“Hold on a minute,” Mona interrupted. “Cart, Herrick, when was the last time either of your crews was cleansed?”
Not that she’d ever done the check on protectors, given Buffalo didn’t have any, but Smythe had her read the procedure and explained it. Protectors routinely went through a cleaning of their essence so foul residual that might cling to them from their work was removed. Usually the procedure was done after, and sometimes before, they went out to handle someone whose magical essence was severely tainted.
Although Herrick was a small step beyond what she’d been told to expect, the procedure would clean him too.
“We don’t need cleansing,” said a voice from the back of the room.
“Glad you volunteered to be first,” Mona said as she walked through the crowd and grabbed the arm of the tall, African American woman who’d spoken. “This is not negotiable, and you all know it. If I see the need, you have to submit. Or you can be placed in solitary until your appeal is heard.”
The woman tried to slip out of Mona’s grasp. Mona reacted, stilling the magic in her, which had the effect of slowing her movements. The woman was, for all intents, frozen in place as her body moved at a fraction of what it usually did. But, oh, how interesting this was! For she wasn’t a Were or even an elf. She was a witch.
Mona had been told about witches, early in her training. Here in the states they’d claimed a large chunk of the southern plains, from Utah to the Mississippi, and mostly they stayed there except for small covens in New York, Chicago, and San Francisco. But once in while one got a wandering foot, and showed up in unexpected places. The woman’s magic felt different. Definitely part of her, but not so much in her body, like elves and Weres, more mental. Interesting. Worrisome, since even holding her for a short amount of time might cause some damage Mona couldn’t anticipate.
“The longer you hold out the worse it is going to be for you,” Mona told her.
“Kofi, submit or I’ll be sending you home on administrative leave. Again,” Cart said from behind Mona.
“Funny thing is I don’t see any residual on you, just a crappy attitude.” Mona hadn’t realized she’d spoken the thought out loud until someone snorted at her words.
Kofi nodded her head imperceptibly, and Mona unfroze her.
“Good, I’ll do you, then the bosses,” Mona said, pulling up a chair for her to sit on. No way she’d be able to reach Kofi’s head standing, much less half the crew. “After that, whoever is in line first will get to the meeting room earlier and be in on the strategy session.”
“Line up behind Herrick,” Cart said as he stood in front of the man. A general scrambling ensued.
In the cover of shuffling around, Kofi whispered to Mona. “You won’t change my personality, right?”
No, but this would be different given how tied to mental processes Kofi’s magic was. Mona would need to do more of a surface check, but then any external evil taint would be on the exterior, she thought, so that’d be okay.
“That’ll only happen if what is causing your attitude is tied into the residual. Don’t worry,” Mona smiled at her, “I think every group needs a nay-sayer, keeps people on their toes.”
Mona placed her hands on either side of Kofi’s head, fingers slotting into place between the tight braids. Unsurprisingly, several imps, including an orange one that looked remarkably like the one from her kitchen, had come to hover near her. Something, she didn’t know what, made her think these were some of the new ones she and Cart had created. Mona could only guess she was now in a cone of silence, but she didn’t want to pull her attention away to check, so she kept her voice low.
Kofi’s magic felt fine—restlessness, worry, and resentment laced the energy, but nothing evil. “Kofi, if there is something you can do to get more training, look into it. Your magic is underused.”
A startled look crossed the tall woman’s face. “I keep saying I need to do more and they say I haven’t shown potential yet.”
“If ‘they,’ whoever ‘they’ are, wait for a sign of your potential, it’ll be too late, because at that point it’ll explode out of you. Clearly they’re not taking into account that you’ll evince your magic differently because you’re a witch. I’ll mention it to Cart.” Mona lowered her hands. “You’re done. Go give them hell.”
Cart stepped up next.
“You have a nice talk with Kofi?” he said, confirming there was a cone of silence. Rejecting the chair, he sat on the edge of a table so she could reach his temples. It also forced her to step between his knees to reach him. As if the crew needed any more of a hint they were together.
“She needs more training. Pull strings and get her some or her magic will get out of control.”
He, too, looked startled. “But—”
“Not everyone shows potential the same way. I’m guessing Kofi served for several years, doing well, before she started asking for, then demanding, training and getting cr
anky when she didn’t get it. Her potential should have been picked up then. Besides, she’s a witch, she’s going to do things differently.”
“Right, we’ll have to contact the New York coven to see how they can help. Thanks, I’m so used to her fitting in, I’d forgotten she wasn’t fae.”
“Not safe to do with a witch, even if they are on your side.”
Cart only nodded and looked thoughtful.
Mona placed her hands on his head. “I’m only doing this for show. I would have noticed if any evil was clinging to you already.”
“Ah, and I thought it was the sex that had given me the extra energy.”
“Both.” She couldn’t help but grin back. She lowered her hands. “Now go kick butt.”
He jumped down and, mimicking her, placed his hands on either side of her head and kissed her, pulling away before things got too intense. The man was clearly marking her as his in front of his people. She’d complain about Weres and their desire to publically claim their property, but she understood the need riding him. Plus it felt damned good.
He let her go.
“You do realize you didn’t need to do that, they all know,” Mona said as she willed her heart back to its normal beat.
“Yeah, but I wanted to.” Grinning cheekily, he stepped away and toward the door.
Herrick turned to leave with him.
“Herrick, everyone’s got to do it, that includes you,” Mona said loudly, knowing the imps would have removed the cone of silence with no one in her space.
He came reluctantly into her space, Cart patting him on the shoulder as he passed.
“What’s up?” Mona asked. “I can’t imagine you don’t know how important this is.”
“I get extremely nauseous from the feeling. The crew knows I’ll be puking my guts out afterwards.”
Mona looked him over. He was a man’s man. She expected he had a pack of cigars stashed next to the recliner he watched football and hockey from.
“Is the Warder who does this in New York male?”
“Yep.”
And that explained a whole lot. The process could feel like a very intimate touch and, while she didn’t think he was homophobic, he would be intensely uncomfortable with a man’s caress.
“Well I’m not, so this should go better for you.” She put her hands on his temples.
One of the logistics she hadn’t thought through was where to put the bits of foul energy she pulled out. Someone had, though, since the orange imp lowered itself to her hand once she pulled the taint away.
“Thanks,” she muttered. The imp felt like a small spark of static electricity as it took the magic. Not much, a minute or two and she was done. She removed her hands and stepped back.
Herrick grinned at her.
“Wow, I feel better. Guess I did have some stuff.” He stood and stretched, cracking his back. “Maybe I ought to get transferred so you can do that all the time.”
“Sorry, I am a one man gal, and I’ve found my man.”
Only two more had any substantial residue. Even those she pulled nothing from said they felt better after having her look at their magic. She guessed it was like going to the dentist—having clean, smooth teeth felt nice even when no other work was done.
She was starving when she finished up with Hyram, whom she was told was the last until the night shift, a skeleton crew for now, came on. Checking the time she saw she had a good four hours until her dinner, so she’d need to eat something or risk passing out.
“Any food around, Hyram?” she asked when she was done.
“Yeah, there’s a full kitchen, and they laid in supplies, but not a lot of ready made stuff.”
No problem, she’d make something up. She’d had enough of pack politics and personalities for the day. Better to let Cart find out what he could, and ask him later.
Chapter Eleven
The kitchen might be stocked, but the place hadn’t been properly cleaned in years. Again, though, Mona found imps waiting to help. Good thing since the site was too new to have a family of brownies in residence like Smythe had. While they worked she went to look at what was in the fridges. No walk-ins, just a wall of industrial sized units. After opening every top and bottom door and moving on to the freezers, she started pulling things out. The counter was sparkling.
“Thank you again, imps,” she said to the two remaining ones who seemed to be working in the bottom of an oven. They shimmered green then disappeared.
As she cooked, she gathered her thoughts. Cart was, in essence, right. Having a ward would not be that different than, say, if she had found out she had a child with a severe disability. Plus, she knew she’d have the added advantage of the support of the entire Folk community to help care for him, or, more correctly, help her as she cared for him. Or her.
Mona sighed as she scraped the minced chanterelles into the bowl. She needed to go re-read the parts on a ward, but she still wasn’t ready to deal with the reality.
Mona had the mushroom barley soup on the stove in two big pots, one batch with cubed roast, beef stock, and tomatoes—the tomatoes were, in part, to make it easier to see which had meat—and one without, as well as several loaves of a fast-rising bread proofing on the counter when Cart found her.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. Still taking me a bit to process it.”
Mona filled a sink half full of soapy water and set the Hobart mixer bowl in it to soak.
“Leave it, someone else can clean up.”
Not about to argue with that, she removed the apron she didn’t remember putting on.
She joined the group in the dining area and had her own soup served to her.
The crew bounced ideas off each other to figure out if there was a pattern to who had disappeared from the pack. Clans, trades and age all were put out and discarded before they decided to put the idea aside. Mona enjoyed the chaos of the group but was more than ready to leave when she was done eating.
“Thanks for making food for the crew,” Cart said again when they were in the hall.
“No problem. I tend to cook when I am anxious.”
“I thought you babbled,” he said as he took her elbow and led her around a corner and down a long corridor.
“No, that’s when I’m uncertain and uncomfortable, remember? Anxious, worried, that I cook for.”
“Good to know,” he said.
“So, anything you want to share now that you know two of my worst quirks?”
“Me, I don’t have any quirks,” he said, his too cheeky smile belying the point.
“Yeah, right.” She followed him, quickly getting lost in all the turns and half staircases.
“The group hasn’t made much headway tracking where the leaders headed off to,” Cart shared. “The information from the pack is different for each person who went to meet him, giving us too many leads for our manpower to follow up on. Most, though, were north, toward Canada so we’re concentrating in that direction.”
“Near the falls?” Raine hadn’t gone somewhere safe when she’d headed up there, she’d walked into the lion’s den.
“Seems reasonable he’d be near a major source of natural energy.”
Mona had no response to that. He was right, she should have thought of it.
“Any word on Raine?” she asked.
“I called Nurse Ferguson before lunch, she had nothing new to report except to thank you for buying the baby more time.”
Mona abruptly stopped in the middle of a hall they’d gone down at least once before. There was a door hidden in the wall here. From the guarding and secrecy spells, it looked like a Maven might have used this as an office at some point. With all the spells around, it was clear the building, before it’d been a YMCA, had been used by Folk. Mona reached up and fiddled with the working, renewing the guarding part and deemphasizing the secrecy. Some secrecy was good, but this would make it difficult for some people to remember the room’s existence once the door was closed. Actually,
she could see the spell being very useful. She memorized the sequence of runes.
The door, which had been blurry to her eyes before, shimmered and solidified.
“I thought you’d be able to do it,” Cart said his eyes on the newly appearing door.
“Changing spells is what I do, Cart.”
“Yeah, but no one’s been able to find the room since Hyram shut the door after he put your stuff in.”
Mona looked over the workings again. “Who chose this room? They had to have seen it.”
“Kofi went through and did the initial assignments. Yes, before you say anything else, I realize now it isn’t just skill anymore that guides her and I have arranged, or am arranging for, training for her, once this gets done.”
“Glad to hear it.”
He opened the door and took a quick look around before holding it wide for her. “Shall we?”
The outer room looked like a waiting room, just large enough for a couch, table, and magazine rack. What made the room special was the waterfall feature in the corner, complete with a small tree and plants. Imp magic glistened all over it.
“I don’t remember her saying anything about the fountain,” Cart said as he walked over to take a look.
“I’d guess it wasn’t here before. I think, eventually, the imps plan for this to be the Maven’s room again, so they wanted to set up something so all Folk could access her. For now, while things get settled, I’m sure it’s okay for us to use the room.”
Mona walked through to the next room. Surprisingly contemporary furnishings sat in the sun lit room. Looking up she saw there was a large, clear dome letting in as much light as possible. As if she needed further proof this would be the Maven’s room; as a full-blooded elf who’d come into their powers, the main way the Maven renewed her energy was with sunlight. She wondered how Nic would deal with that.
Her book was on a desk facing the door and her bag on a chaise set under the window. Mona kicked off her low boots and sank her feet in the rich rug.
“No curtains, the windows are spelled, right?”