Order

by Larsen, Patti

  I still felt saddened by his loss, my sneakers squeaking softly on the polished floor of the Stronghold’s main foyer, glitter of the portal mirror on my far left. He might not have been much of a conversationalist, but I longed for the weight of his presence if only because that would mean the heart was in the right place.

  No metaphor there or anything.

  I opened my mouth to ask Max what his plans were for the lóng a faint smile on my face as Jiao hugged the two kids, when yet another blow hit me so hard I stumbled to my knees in shock.

  SHAYLEE. Oh no, not again. And not the Sidhe, not this quickly. Everonus just mentioned it and the vampire disappearance had taken months. But as my Sidhe princess soul reached for her mother I realized what Max had been trying to tell me, something I’d lost sight of in the last few hours of lights, camera, action.

  The disintegration of the Universe was speeding up.

  ***

  Chapter Eleven

  I felt the realm crumbling before I even passed over the veil line shielding it from my plane. When Aiolainn created the realm, she used the veil’s own magic to turn a pocket of space into her own private playground. I had no idea how, though Cian’s soul had been part of the deal, clearly. Now I’d been drach and intimately connected to the veil, it was easier to see how she’d used Cian and his spirit to form a chamber, like a tumor truth be told, bubbling off the side of my plane. Good thing the space in the veil was vast, though I wondered if the plane next to mine was affected by the press of the bubble against it. A curiosity for another time if the entire Universe didn’t collapse, maybe. For now, I had the Sidhe to worry about.

  Gone was the glamor of the Seelie court, the green grass and blue sky, the stunning forest and arching silver and gold bridge. Instead, blackness loomed over the trembling Sidhe, Seelie and Unseelie alike huddling as a massive cloud poised to devour them. I felt outside it and yet connected to it as Shaylee tried to reach her mother.

  The queen surged to the front of the pack, arms outstretched toward us. Her perfect beauty had vanished, elongating her face, her hands, her ears until she appeared more alien than Fey, the true form of the Sidhe showing through. I shivered at the sight as Shaylee gasped and shivered when my demon took firm hold of her on one side, my vampire on the other and cut the thick, green cord of magic holding her to Aoilainn.

  You mustn’t, my demon growled.

  We need you, my vampire sent.

  Please, I whispered to the Sidhe princess as she sobbed and turned her back on her mother. Don’t leave us.

  Aoilainn wailed her loss, more complete in that moment than even when Shaylee had died so long ago. There was nothing I could do and when I met her eyes at last, when the queen of the Sidhe lowered her chin from her howl of hurt and stared at me with her glowing gaze, I felt her defeat and resignation.

  Save the Universe, she sent as her people vanished in clusters and groups around her, the Unseelie going first as King Ohdran and Queen Niamh grimly waved their farewell before disappearing. And come for us when you are successful.

  You think I’m going to succeed. It came out dull and hurtful.

  Aoilainn’s power snapped, faded as the black consumed her. You always do.

  And then she was gone and the Sidhe with her.

  There was no battle to keep Shaylee, not like with my vampire, though we had to scramble backward into the veil to avoid being sucked down into the void when the bubble of Aoilainn’s creation popped like a giant blister. I gasped into the dimness and hugged myself while Max, oddly in human form next to me, sighed his sadness.

  Sydlynn, he sent. I fear I now know why things are speeding up.

  Great. That didn’t sound promising. Do I want to know?

  He met my gaze, his diamond eyes sad. The pieces, he sent. There has to be a connection.

  We’re working as fast as we can to return them. Okay, snappish much, missy? But Max was shaking his head.

  No, Syd, he sent, turning away from me, heading back to the Stronghold plane. I now believe with every piece we return, we speed the destruction of the Universe.

  He what? Wait a second. I grasped his arm as we settled on the stone of the foyer again, the veil hiccupping closed behind us. I thought we were supposed to put Creator back together?

  Max didn’t say anything, bottomless hurt in his eyes.

  Just freaking fantastic.

  “With every piece we return,” he said at last, “magic flees into the void.”

  I wanted to argue, to fight him over his reasoning. But as I thought it through, I understood. The first vampires to disappear did so right around the time Trill stole the heart of Creator from this very place. Might have been before—I strained my memory to decide which came first—might have been after. But Sebastian and Alison and the Blood Clan DeWinter’s vanishing was close enough to the theft of the heart I had to admit the possibility remained Max was more than likely right.

  “How long have you suspected?” I grit my teeth against his answer.

  “Since the last piece’s return,” he said.

  Could have mentioned it.

  “Can I ask a question?” Piers was still there, amazing. I’d lost track of him, of Varity, both watching and waiting patiently, bless them. But it seemed the Steam Union leader’s patience had worn out.

  I shrugged, tired suddenly, rubbed raw to the bone. “If I have an answer it will be a miracle.” At least, that was how things felt. “Ask.”

  He nodded, accepting. “If putting Creator back together is necessary to save the Universe, but doing so is sucking all magic and magical races—”

  “And planes,” Varity piped up helpfully.

  “And planes,” he said, “then what’s the bloody point?”

  “Excellent question,” I said. “Thanks for asking, Mr. Obvious.”

  Piers grinned, shrugged. “You’re welcome.”

  Nice to see someone wasn’t freaking out. Because my heart was pounding so fast I was sure it would take off to parts unknown without me any second now.

  “Another stupid question,” Varity said in her gravel voice. “Just for variety.” Comedians. Even in the worst of times. Which was, of course, why I loved them. “Say you succeed in finding all the missing flotsam and jetsam, what happens when Creator’s statue is all nice and whole again?”

  Max shuddered next to me, though he didn’t respond with fear, just calm.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Though I have a feeling we’re going to find out.” When he met my eyes, my heart stopped its sudden racing. “Doombringer.”

  He had to say that, didn’t he?

  “There’s nothing we can do about that right now, am I correct?” I prodded Max’s power with my own, deciding then and there I’d only worry about what I could change. Screw the Universe and Creator. She’d gotten us into this mess, she could handle her own crap until I had definitive answers and actions to take. Namely, if Fate got off her scrawny ass and Zoe Helios actually landed a roadmap of Do This Now in my hands.

  Max nodded.

  “Okay then,” I said, turning back to my friends. “Since the Universe can fall apart without us, we’ll let it do its thing and we’ll get back to the matter at hand.” I drew a breath. “Femke.”

  “Jean Marc,” Piers said, shaking his head, sad but grim.

  “Tallah.” Varity’s tone matched his exactly. They sounded like bad things were about to happen to those specific people.

  “Creator’s arm.” Max’s soft finish wrapped up the whole guilt package in a nice, shiny bow.

  Looked like friendship would have to wait after all. I hated to admit it, knew I should reach out and at least explain to Quaid why I was leaving him hanging instead of rushing to the rescue as I said I would. But Max’s little reveal was enough to make my decision for me despite my desire to the contrary. Fate was calling again, it seemed, and I wasn’t about to argue.

  It was a grim group that trouped our way back through the veil and into Mom’s office at Harvard.
She had the right to hear what happened to the vampires and Sidhe first hand. I was shocked to see she wasn’t alone, though.

  “How?” I ran one hand through the silky, thick fur of the giant hound standing on her right, Galleytrot’s black eyes flaring with red fire.

  “Queen Aoilainn severed our Sidhe magic before the end,” he said in a voice like a spring thunderstorm, sadness in him but a new determination. He’d left us a broken dog, guilt over his inability to protect Liam and Gabriel driving him to return to his master, Gwynn ap Nudd of the Wild Hunt. A blessing, from what I understood, allowing him to join the love of his heart, Mom’s old second, Erica Plower. That second hound waited on Mom’s left, slimmer and slightly smaller than Galleytrot, but just as grim.

  “Erica,” I said.

  “Darae,” she said in return. “My hound name, if you please, Syd.”

  I nodded to her. I maybe should have still held animosity toward her. After all, it was Erica who triggered all of this, wasn’t it? By joining forces with Belaisle and the Brotherhood, starting off the rolling boulder of doom we’d caught barreling toward us. But I knew enough about Fate to understand she was just a tool, as much as I was. And seeing her in the form of a hound after feeling her regret and broken realization at her trial, I decided to let bygones just go the hell away and accept things were happening exactly as Fate intended.

  We really had to have a talk about that at some point. So I could express my dissatisfaction with the way the game was run.

  “Sydlynn Hayle, Doombringer, and company.” Mom bowed her head a moment before her shoulders squared, eyes dark and full of fire. “Under order of the North American Witches Council, I order you,” forgive the wording, sweetheart, “to immediately retrieve Tallah Hensley and bring her to me under charge of treason against all witchdom.”

  I embraced her with my magic. Forgiven, I sent, feeling how shaken she was by the loss of her spirit power—her earth magic clinging by a thread, tied to the black hounds at her sides—by the idea that Tallah might make the same mistake as Erica. My mother’s gaze lingered on the smaller hound, even as the dog now known as Darae licked the back of her hand.

  “No, Mom,” I said. “This one’s on me. I’m taking full responsibility for what happens to Tallah and her coven. And I want you to stay out of it.” Might I suggest, I sent in a private aside, while I’m busy, you share with the hounds what I gave to you? Just in case.

  Mom didn’t respond but from the tightening around her eyes she understood.

  When I stepped into the veil with Piers and Varity, the two black dogs still flanking my pale faced mother, I had faith both were willing and able to do whatever it took to make sure she had the backup she needed. No matter how this went down. Because regardless of how things ended, I was about to see to it through whatever means necessary the Brotherhood never troubled anyone again.

  ***

  Chapter Twelve

  Maybe I should have been hurt Max left me to my own business, but I knew him better than that. He departed for the Stronghold without a word and minus judgment, so I took his lack of comment on face value and did what I had to do.

  I didn’t bother trying to locate the Brotherhood or their leader. I didn’t need to. I had a different goal in mind. If Jean Marc Dumont was in cahoots with Tallah, I wouldn’t have to go looking.

  Believe me, after I was done with her she’d take me right to him.

  The familiar beach welcomed me, though I knew the Hensley power wasn’t so kind, pushing through the barriers Tallah set up around her coven house while the Pacific Ocean washed its way against the shoreline.

  I could have just opened the veil in the kitchen/living room combo. I could have shown up without warning and grabbed Tallah, choking her like the vermin she was. Could have. Didn’t. Because the perverse and furious part of me wanted her to know I was coming.

  Wanted her to try to fight back. As she did, ineffectual power beating against mine. I stomped my way up the back stairs and through the glass doors, grimly pleased to see the mix of terror and rage on her dark skinned face. In her deep brown eyes. The way she trembled with tension while I stormed through her house. Through her defenses. With a snarl that had been building since I first found out what she was up to, I pinned her to the counter with a fist of magic steel.

  She choked on the pressure, bending backward, clawing at her throat and the pressure there. For a heartbeat I faltered, at least inwardly. Wondered if I’d made a mistake, if the elder council had led me astray for no reason. Until sorcery crawled out of her and tried to fight back.

  Yes, she could have acquired it on her own. But I had excellent reason to believe she’d had her dark power woken by the wrong kind of people.

  “Syd! No!” Sashenka, my former second and Tallah’s ever faithful sister, broke my need to kill the Hensley leader, but only barely. I glanced away for a heartbeat, saw the terror on her face, then ignored it, turning back to the struggles of the witch in my grasp.

  Might I suggest, my vampire sent, calm and collected with a hint of sarcasm, we keep her alive long enough to ask her questions?

  Screw that, my demon snarled. She has nothing to tell us. Just kill her, Syd.

  Shaylee had recovered enough from her mother’s disappearance she piped in. Though the sweet voice I was used to had been roughened by grief. So had her attitude, apparently. Rip her head off and feed it to demon, she snarled before hiking in a sob.

  Nothing else would have reined me in, not Max or my mother or even Creator. But the three of them? They had more sway over me than anyone in my life and feeling Shaylee’s grief was enough to cool my temper and back me up a pace.

  I didn’t release Tallah, but I did ease up enough she was able to draw a breath, warming the gray cast to her skin as she managed some oxygen.

  “You will tell me,” I said in a voice that shook while my three hitchhikers paused to listen, “where I can find Jean Marc Dumont and the Brotherhood. Or I’ll kill you right now.”

  Tallah didn’t answer, but Shenka’s anger hit me like a blow I barely felt. It was only our old association that triggered the realization she was hammering at the edges of my power. “Let her go,” she said, her own voice cracking. “Now, Syd.” Her dark gaze flickered to her sister and back to me. “We have no idea what you’re talking about.” Fury shook her. Her dark skin flushed a deeper red as emotion washed through her. Outrage. Really? “How dare you barge in here and accuse my sister—”

  I silenced her with a short wave of my hand before turning back to Tallah. “This is on you,” I said. “I’ll make sure the whole of witchdom knows it, too.” She flinched before falling still while Shenka gasped. “Tell me or by the elements and Creator, Tallah, I swear I will kill you.”

  And I meant it. I’d only killed a few times before. The first, Ameline. The second was the Mafia leader, Nickolay Vetrov. Of course I’d also slain creatures of the other Universe, but I didn’t count them because I didn’t have time to get to know them, to talk to them or feel their hearts beating, hear their thoughts. Not like I thought I’d known Tallah. We’d been friends once, a lifetime or two ago, when we were both the youngest coven leaders against the rest of the North American Council. Until she blamed me for poaching her sister as my second, proceeding to steal her back again and blame everyone but herself for the attack of the Brotherhood that laid her coven low.

  And now, here she was working with them, the very sorcerers who killed her family.

  Bile rose in the back of my throat, but it was Shenka’s soft weeping that pulled me further from the edge and made me think, listen.

  “No,” my former friend said, whispered while the other witches in the room—a pair of werewolves among them—stared and shook. “No, please, Tallah.” Shenka gasped a breath before speaking again, one hand over her trembling lips. “Tell Syd she’s wrong.”

  Tallah didn’t say anything, renewed defiance glaring back through dark eyes.

  Shenka sobbed once, stilled, before lo
oking up at me, horror on her face. “Please,” she tried again. “Please, Syd. She’s my sister.”

  I couldn’t let compassion in. Not when so much was at stake. Tallah had to believe I’d follow through. I cut Shenka off with a scowl and clamped down on her sister again, the Hensley leader crying out as my power hurt her.

  Okay, it felt like crap doing it now I had possession of myself again.

  Let me, my demon sent.

  But no, I’d told Mom and I meant it—this was on me.

  “You can’t do this,” Shenka’s last stab at saving her sister hurt me as much as I was hurting Tallah. “The Witches Council—”

  “The Council your sister abandoned and from which she emancipated this family.” Piers spoke before I could, jaunty tone mocking. “That council, Shenka?”

  She stared at him in mute appeal but Piers was probably more invested in finding the Brotherhood at this point than I was. At least in his own mind.

  “We’re not here for the Council,” I said. “I’m above the law now, didn’t you know that?” A flash of anger tore through me, making my jaw ache as I ground my teeth together. “When will you people get it through your damned thick witch skulls? I’m trying to save the Universe here. The Universe.” I shook Tallah with my power, knocking her against the counter as she squirmed. “I am sick,” another shake, “and tired,” dishes tumbled to the floor, shattering around her feet, “of this petty, pathetic crap.” I dropped her to her knees in the shards, pushing her down until she was on the palms of her hands, panting for air.

  With three strides I was at her side, letting my demon out, amber fire blazing around me, smoke rising from her hair while that persona whispered in Tallah’s ear. “We’re ready to make an example of you,” she said through my lips. “And while you might think someone will swoop in and save you, that I’m too kind hearted to take your life, be assured, Tallah Hensley, if you’re in bed with the Brotherhood, nothing in this Universe or the next will save you.”