“And your parents?” he asked in a stiff voice. Was he making small talk, or was this one of the few things he just didn’t know?
“Have you heard of the Guardians of Order?”
“Yes, they’re similar to Humans First, just a lot more fanatical and violent, right?”
“I never considered them similar until now. HF seems to be human-exclusive; all supernaturals are enemies to them, and the only reason they even considered dealing with Conner was because of his agenda. The Guardians of Order’s only enemies seem to be us.”
He nodded slowly and turned. The dour look eventually slipped away after several minutes of silence. “What happens to you now?”
“We have to stop Conner. If I can’t, then I don’t think I will be viewed any more favorably than Legacy were in the past. People don’t hate us because we possess magic, they hate us because of the type of magic we possess. Well, I think shifters hate us. Not being immune to our magic really gets their panties in a twist.”
“Of course it does, it totally dispels their god-among-men complex. You all reduce them to just some regular schmoes like the rest of us who can be taken down with magic.”
Then he went back to working. Occasionally I caught him looking in my direction with a blank look on his face. After several hours, I’d gotten used to the silence and figured that was going to be the way things would be between us from now on. Tension-riddled silence and furtive glances. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about. He frowned at the hat, which had moved a little lower on my head.
Quietly I sat on the sofa, tablet in hand, cataloguing the items we had. “That’s going to be a thing, isn’t it?” he teased as he perched on the arm of the other end of the sofa. The slim-cut suit made him look thinner than usual, and the crisp white shirt didn’t do much for his fair complexion. I hadn’t noticed the slips in his ordinarily impeccable clothing choices until he was next to me. I studied him as he studied me. Deep in thought, his eyes narrowed and cast a dark look over his face.
“Okay, if you’re going to wear the hat, then …” His finger twitched and I knew he was about to do his magic mojo.
“You change anything and tomorrow I wear the plaid flannel shirt you forbade me to wear and the hair.”
He gasped, recalling the day that I’d decided to wear two pigtails. It was a bad hair day and, apparently, one that would live in infamy to him. We hadn’t gotten a lot of work done because I’d spent half of the day dodging magic he’d lobbed my way trying to change it, or him physically cornering me and trying to.
“If you’re not a five-year-old girl, you are forbidden to wear pigtails,” he reminded me with a broad grin and shuddered at the thought of it again. But he’d relaxed into himself and a smile emerged. As he shifted position, the color of my shirt changed to a light blue, complementing the hat that I’d grown fond of.
“Keep it up, I’ll turn you into a frog.”
He stopped laughing, his head tilted to the side as he considered it. “Can you?”
Good question. But I shook my head with confidence. I didn’t know, but of all the magical gifts to have, I didn’t think changing people into green amphibians was brag-worthy.
I shrugged. “I can do the same things faes, mages, and witches can do. I think I’m supposed to be able to transport, but I haven’t figured out a lot of things out yet,” I admitted and then I told him about how my parents had restricted magic, only teaching me things that they felt I would need to protect myself. He seemed to gain a little relief by knowing that I didn’t have full access to magic. Perhaps he assumed that others had been raised the same way. It wasn’t the truth. The Legacy that I had encountered had magic that had been trained and cultivated, making them a force—a menace.
“I can help you if you like.”
“With what?”
“Improving your magic. You of all people would never abuse it. But with Conner around, you need to be able to protect yourself.” Even though he hadn’t said it, Kalen and I had been friends long enough that I knew it was about more than just protecting myself. It was also about making sure Conner didn’t do more harm.
“I’ve been reading some of the spell books that Blu loaned me.”
Part of me wanted to ask her for help, but I had come out to the Council and the SG, not the rest of the supernatural community, and I wasn’t in a hurry to do so. Blu seemed to adhere to the full disclosure rules among the supernaturals. If she knew, then I was sure others would find out. The heavy feeling that always accompanied me thinking about Savannah as an ignesco reemerged, and I felt the muscles of my back and arms tighten. Stress. Fear. Apprehension. They were all there, and it bothered me that Savannah was feeling them, too.
I decided to be honest with Kalen about everything. “Savannah’s an ignesco.” I kept my voice level, trying not to let any of the concerns I had filter into my voice. Kalen attempted to remain expressionless as I delivered more news, turning his world upside down. But his emotions were expressed in his eyes, and I could see the fear, concern, and apprehension as he waited for more big reveals. I didn’t blame him; things had changed, and neither one of us was naïve enough to have the luxury of denial that things were going to be different.
“Blu reported it. I’m not sure why. I suspect she was obligated to do so.” Irritation colored my words. Even if she had to, it still bothered me. “Savannah’s been contacted by the Mage, Fae, and Witch Councils.”
Kalen sucked in a sharp breath and held it before releasing it. “What is she going to do?” he asked in a level voice, missing any inflection that would clue me in to what he was thinking.
Shrugging, I folded my legs underneath me trying to find a more comfortable position or do anything that might cause me to relax. I wanted to focus solely on Savannah’s situation, but I had to deal with Conner and his legion of misguided degenerates.
Holding out on telling him Blu’s advice, I waited to get his opinion. He took a long time to consider and I was appreciative of this. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully. “The Councils have their benefits.” He took time with each word, which was a true indicator that he had doubts and reservations about the situation. “When you are a specific supernatural, it is expected that they will have your best interests at heart, and that can be invaluable. While the Supernatural Guild is over all the supernaturals in regards to order, a specific Council has on many occasions been allowed to exact punishment instead of the SG. That has its benefits and has worked out well for the most part. The Councils play a major role in establishing the laws of each sect and try not to restrict any of us too much. We are our magic, and overrestricted people have a tendency to rebel. These things are all great qualities and benefits of the Councils. But they are made up of the most powerful of our kind, and those people are not immune to being seduced by power or the acquisition of more. If Blu saw fit to inform the others of Savannah, I suspect that she’s strong and has the potential to be used. A request from a Council is rarely denied, and from my understanding they aren’t made often or without cause—but ‘cause’ is subjective. How many times will there be ‘cause’ to call upon her talents? Can you imagine how strong a high-level mage or fae would be with Savannah’s help?”
He stopped, probably trying to find the right words to say that Savannah wouldn’t be safe with any of them and there was a chance of her being used to do some bad things.
“What about the Shapeshifter Council? It seems like she will have to be under a Council, why not them?”
Kalen’s eyes flashed when he grinned. “You are brilliant.” Palpable relief overcame his face. “What a splendid idea. They can’t use magic, and they are so territorial that no one would dare approach Savannah without checking with them. That’s unlikely because people would rather hug a porcupine than deal with them.”
I was so close to taking credit for the idea, but my conscience wouldn’t allow me to. “It wasn’t my idea. It was Blu’s.”
He slowly nodded his head,
and a different smile flourished over his features with a hint of admiration. “Fashion sense and common sense, she’s quite the package, isn’t she? And she’s not hard on the eyes, either.”
“Should I be jealous that you don’t swoon over me like that?”
“If you ever manage to walk through the door without cosplaying a trucker I will.”
“‘Cosplaying a trucker’? Now you’re just making things up. That’s not a thing and it can’t be one just because you think it should be.”
He brushed off my comment with a wave of his hand and stood. Then he shot a sly smile in my direction as he walked toward the kitchen. “Perhaps you should call Gareth and have him set it up.”
“Or I can Google them and have Savannah call them. I’m sure if everyone else is buzzing about it then they probably know about it, too. Besides, Gareth isn’t part of the Council anymore. Remember?”
“I didn’t forget, but do you think for one moment that Gareth would concede so easily without having anything to do with them? I think just Googling them, cold-calling and just showing up on their steps with your perky adorable friend is a mistake. I do believe the shifters will be more accommodating if the idea is suggested by the head of the Supernatural Guild, as opposed to the cute blonde with a basket full of flourless pancakes or some other tasteless concoction and her obstinate brunette friend dressed in trucker cosplay and a weird hat.”
“It’s still not a thing. It’s not going to catch on,” I chided back, tapping the brim of my hat. If he rolled his eyes any harder he was going to give himself a headache.
An air of apprehension still remained between us, but it wasn’t nearly as thick or obvious as before, and as the day went by we’d settled into our normalcy. It was what I’d needed. Finding a solution that Kalen agreed with had removed a lot of my stress and left me focusing on Conner and crew.
CHAPTER 10
I hadn’t heard from Gareth for nearly three days and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad. My calls and text messages went unanswered, and I had no idea what was going on regarding Conner. The last time we’d spoken, Gareth had suggested that he wanted to imprison Conner and his group of followers. I was ready for whatever plan he had to do so. Lock them up and throw away the key. But I knew it wasn’t going to be easy no matter how much I wanted it. Wards had to be broken and veils ripped open; he had people do it, but he needed one more—Savannah. She agreed without hesitation. I was the last holdout, looking for every option available to ensure that she didn’t get involved. It took a long hour of deliberation before I reluctantly agreed.
The next day, as we walked through the area where I’d encountered Conner and the others, I looked over my shoulder at the small army of supernaturals behind me: eight high-level mages and fourteen witches, eight faes and nearly thirty shapeshifters, and it still didn’t seem like enough. We were only going to do a reverse ward. Instead of blocking people from coming in, we were going to block them from coming out. It had worked with the chaos mages, and now it had to work with the Legacy and Vertu, or so everyone optimistically believed. I didn’t—I had my doubts, because Conner had proven to be more cunning than I had given him credit for and more ruthless than I could have imagined. He wanted the Cleanse to happen again and was okay with it being a zero-sum game. That made him very dangerous.
Savannah standing next to me with her goddamn “quest bag” just made it worse. But at least she also had enough weapons strapped to her that she should be able to protect herself. I ignored the gnawing images of her dropping them constantly when we practiced. She wasn’t an expert by the time we’d finished, but she’d substantially improved. I had Gareth’s word that keeping her safe would be the number-one priority. I knew, however, that if it came to stopping the supernatural crew bent on destruction or saving Savannah, her protection would be an afterthought, so I had to make it my priority. As far as I was concerned, they were equally important.
Why couldn’t she just be a barely acceptable ignesco? I would have given anything for her to be just a run-of-the-mill pyromaniac. Not someone that they needed. Not someone who was about to put her life in danger. No matter how I tried to talk her out of it, she felt obligated to help. I understood, I just didn’t want it to be the way it was.
As we neared, I kept going over the spells. When I stopped feeling the ward near, so did everyone else.
“If they come out, take the shot as soon as possible. At best, we have six minutes.” Although after letting Gareth try the iridium dart on me, I thought six minutes was being generous. After two minutes I was able to do magic, but not at full strength. At six minutes I was in full form. Each shot had to be perfectly done because a second one wasn’t an option. My body had adapted and formed a barrier to prevent it from happening again. The cuffs had to be iridium and fairly large, often too heavy for use by anyone other than a shifter. They were no good at all if those carrying them couldn’t get close enough to Conner and the others to put them on. I’d like to think Gareth was a lucky lion that day when he got a pair on me; I doubted the others would be.
Inches away, a powerful force of magic like a tornado thrashed over us. Hard currents of magic hit. Two bodies flew past us, crashing across the field. I stabbed one of my sai into the ground and held on to it and grabbed Savannah’s shirt, holding her close to me as the blast of magic continued. It stopped for just a moment. We were surrounded by Conner’s followers. The magic wafting off them drowned the air. Before they could deliver another wind of it, shots were fired. Not in sync, but it was enough time. I pulled out the sai and released Savannah. A wolf soared past me, capturing one of Conner’s people by the throat; it was a clean and quick ending. In a few minutes, we had the advantage and we used it. The sound of bodies falling, bones crunching, and screams were the only hints that the shapeshifters were prevailing. But it was only a matter of time.
Before I had time to assess the situation, a blade swiped at me. I stopped it with the moto of the sai. Evelyn used the other blade in her hand and stabbed at me, catching me on my side, and then pulled it out. Pain seared through me. I swallowed the groan, refusing to give her the satisfaction of hearing it. She made another attempt at a drive; I blocked it with the edge of one sai and thrust the other into her gut. She stumbled back; I pulled it out and did it again. I had to use the other one to block her hand. I couldn’t allow her to touch it and heal herself. By the fourth time the blade of my sai had met her flesh, she was bleeding uncontrollably. She wasn’t going to heal.
I looked away. The desperation of her trying to fight for a life she couldn’t save pulled at my guilt. I had to feel something—I wasn’t a sociopath—even though this was a necessary evil. She’d made a choice—the wrong one—and this was the consequence. She made a feeble attempt at using magic. It sparked at her fingers; the colors flared and then waned as she did.
One down, but I couldn’t assess the situation to see how many more to go. With the one the wolf had taken down, Evelyn, and the other Legacy I’d taken out, I knew of three killed out of Conner’s twelve.
Time was up, and the magic was back with a mighty vengeance. It hit hard, and I felt like I’d been slammed into a brick wall. I put up a field, covering me and whoever managed to be behind me. It was the first time I was able to see the damage. Five followers were gone, but I didn’t see Conner. I did a sweep over the bodies lying around and didn’t see him. I didn’t see Gareth, either. A sharp breath caught in my throat, but I didn’t have time to think about it. I had to finish this.
“I’m going to drop it, you can’t do magic through it,” I informed the four mages and two witches behind me. I counted to three and it dropped. I moved out of the way of the exchange of magic. The plans we had were down the drain. This wasn’t going to end with us containing them in the little world they had created for themselves. It was going to end with them being casualties of their ideology and warped Utopian view.
Magic continued to dominate the air. I rushed to the right as the SG
attempted to hold the remaining members of Team Conner off. I needed just a moment and it would be over; the magic started as a small circle, growing larger until it was a whipping force, a cyclone that crashed through the area. A powerful force that I was barely able to control, it moved, ravaging through the air, ripping up trees and leaving nothing but shredded bark in its path. My head pounded, sweat dripped along my temples as I attempted to control it, and directing it was like trying to corral an unruly, temperamental child. It was chaotic and poorly directed and powerful.
I needed the power but control as well, and when I felt Savannah’s fingers slipping through mine, the control grew. It was still a rebellious force, a summation of magic that had been subdued and ignored and was now fully able to be expressed. It sucked the other Legacy up, whipping them violently through the air. At first it moved in a choreographed dance, and then it became chaotic, the top moving independent of the rest. It grew wider and bigger, pulling from the magic of the engulfed Legacy it spun. Their screams of distress were drowned out by the whipping sounds. I concentrated, and it took everything out of me. Fatigue started to set in, but I couldn’t stop, and so I fought through it. I made it—I controlled it. It came to a manageable calm, and I moved it closer to the opening of the veil, where it spat them out and pushed them through with force. I collapsed the whirlwind, which was easier than giving it a controlled release. Then I ran to the veil and closed it.
My lips were moving fervently, trying to erect the reverse ward to enclose them, and I heard the others from whoever was left from the SG join me. When the last words fell from my lips, a powerful magical lock crackled in the air. I wasn’t sure if it would hold them or for how long, but they were contained. The remaining seven could spend the rest of their lives stewing over their failure.
I nearly collapsed to the ground but forced myself to stay standing in order to look over the area. We had losses, but so did they. I called Gareth’s name, but he didn’t immediately respond. Several feet away, he started toward me, his clothes disheveled like the others’.
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