Consort of Fire: A Paranormal Reverse Harem Novel (The Witch's Consorts Book 4)

by Eva Chase

  “Hmm,” Heard said. “Just more work then, huh?”

  There was something prodding about his tone. I smiled at him, but a prickle ran down my back. Gossip traveled fast around here. People were always a little wary of the Hallowells and their estate, and I had been there an awful lot in the last few weeks.

  The landlord wasn’t insinuating anything all that specifically, though, so I shrugged the comment off with a laugh. “What can I say? I like keeping busy.”

  “I’m sure you do,” he said as he saw me out, with a narrow look that set off another prickle.

  It didn’t matter. He and anyone else could think whatever they wanted. Most of the people in this town had thought I was pretty weird all along—for my interest in computers and all the things I could find out about on those computers, for going away for college and then inexplicably coming back, for not hanging around much with anyone outside my family—in person where they could see, at least. Not that I figured mentioning my online social life would have impressed my neighbors any.

  In some ways I’d been coasting, those few years after college. I’d enjoyed myself, sure, but there’d never been much sense of direction to my meanderings. Now I had a purpose. A mission that had somehow spiraled into a quest to rival the ones taken up by the heroes in my video game collection.

  I pulled out my phone as I headed down the street, checking a couple of my non-recreational online accounts. No returns yet on the latest feelers I’d put out. That didn’t mean they were total dead-ends, but the longer those queries sat unanswered, the less chance I’d hear anything useful back in the end.

  Ah well. I still had plenty more avenues to pursue. I wasn’t sure I was quite a video game-level hero yet, but Charles and Helen Frankford sure as hell could have qualified as final-boss villains. Their files had given us all sorts of data—names of witches who’d come to their meetings and contributed financially to their efforts, schedules of visits to the Cliff that held the demons’ cave, business and political schemes they’d undertaken that must have been tied into the whole conspiracy somehow—but we needed outside proof if we were going to expose any of that, since we couldn’t show anyone the files themselves.

  I didn’t only have my computer skills to rely on. My little foray into spy territory, sneaking into the Frankfords’ home and stealing his hard drive, had reminded me of that. Tomorrow I planned to drive out to the area near his coastal property with its demon-portal cave to see if I could find anything useful in the local archives. You never knew what might have been committed to paper that had never made it onto any digital platform. Especially since the Frankfords had been using that property since the ‘60s.

  Thinking about getting that close to his base of illicit operations sent a quiver through me that was both nervous and excited. I didn’t exactly relish the idea of stepping into the line of fire again… but maybe I had gotten a taste for more concrete adventure.

  First, though, I had the much more mundane mission of restocking my fridge. I ambled into the grocery store and started grabbing my usual go-tos off the shelves, with a nod to the other shoppers. One guy, whose name I couldn’t remember but I knew worked for the post office, let his gaze trail after me as I walked by, as if he were waiting to see what else I’d do.

  Okay, some kind of gossip had definitely been going around. Maybe I was better off not knowing what it was.

  I turned the corner from one aisle to the next and almost walked straight into my mother.

  “Oh, hey, Mom,” I said, managing to jerk my basket to the side at the last second. “Sorry.”

  Mom laughed. The faint sprinkling of flour on the side of her purple skirt told me she’d come straight from a baking session. “Out of everywhere in town, this isn’t where I’d have thought I’d run into you,” she said, and patted her own basket. “It’s the mid-afternoon slow period at the café. We were running low on sugar, so I figured I’d put my break to good use.”

  “Reasonable,” I said, and groped for something else to add. I wouldn’t say I was especially close with my parents, but we’d always gotten along. There was just so much from the last couple months that I couldn’t talk to them about. The weight of all those omissions made it hard to think of what I could say.

  “You know, I’m glad I did run into you,” Mom said. “You’ve been on the go so much, sudden road trips and all, we’ve hardly seen you recently. Why don’t you come back to the café? You can have the first slice of the strawberry pie that just came out of the oven.”

  I didn’t actually have any definite plans for the rest of the afternoon. It might be a good idea to take a little time just to chat, both to show her everything was good and to help me relax around her again.

  Also, my mother made the best pie in the state, with the fair ribbons to prove it.

  “Sure,” I said with a grin. “Can’t say no to pie.”

  I did relax into the conversation as we meandered over to the café where Mom worked. She commented on the weather and Dad’s recent renovation projects, totally non-stress subjects. I found myself telling her about some articles I’d read the other day about mini houses, and she shook her head and said, “Oh, I doubt that’ll last very long. If I’ve learned anything from hearing about your dad’s work, it’s that almost everyone always wants bigger rooms, more space when they have the chance.”

  So, my guard was down. I sat down at one of the quaint wooden tables in the otherwise empty café, breathing in that fresh baking scent that filled the place. Mom set a plate with a slice of strawberry pie and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the table in front of me. I’d just taken my first bite of sweet fruit and buttery pastry when things took a turn in the wrong direction.

  “I hear you’re letting go of your clients around town,” she said.

  My fork hesitated for a second in mid-air before I took another bite. Of course word would be going around about that. “I am,” I said. “Just making sure they’re good to go, no computer emergencies on the horizon, before I move on.”

  Mom set her hands on the back of the chair across from me, her face with its framing of gray-blond hair suddenly looking wearier than usual. “It just worries a mother a little, you know, when she sees her son putting himself out of work.”

  “You don’t have to worry,” I said quickly, waving my fork. “I’m not out of work. I’m just changing focus. I’ve got online clients and enough work there to cover the bills that need covering.”

  “It seems like relying on people you’ve never even met face-to-face would be a lot less secure.”

  “Not at all. We sign contracts; it’s all above board. Really, Mom, I get paid more by the hour that way.” We wouldn’t get into how overqualified I was at this point to troubleshoot printer problems or remind people how to run a reboot. “And it gives me more flexibility, in case I feel like setting off on any other impromptu road trips.”

  I gave her another grin, hoping she’d take her cue from my tone, but her brow stayed furrowed. She looked away for a second, and something in her stance made me tense up with the suspicion I wasn’t going to like whatever she said next.

  She pulled her gaze back to me. “I’ve also heard you’ve been going out to the Hallowell estate.”

  No point in denying that. “Why wouldn’t I? Rose is back, and she’s a friend.” I wasn’t allowed to say how much more than that she was to me. “Maybe people need to find some new hobbies if that’s the most exciting news they’re finding to pass on.”

  Mom still didn’t return my smile. “We might have been distracted by our own concerns after the family picked up and left all those years ago”—and fired Mom and Dad from the jobs they’d had on the estate, she didn’t add—“but I know it shook you up pretty hard too. You cared a lot about that girl. I’m glad you’ve been able to reconnect, I just… I don’t think you should extend yourself too much.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?” She’d seemed perfectly happy to have Rose over for lunch a couple month
s ago.

  “You know what they’re like,” she said. “The Hallowells. They don’t really mix with us here in town. She might enjoy having your attention, but I wouldn’t want to see you get your hopes up for more than that and then—”

  “Mom,” I interrupted. It was almost ridiculous, how little idea she had of how much Rose had already committed. And even more ridiculous that she thought she needed to lecture me like this. “I’m not a lovesick teenager. I’ll be twenty-six in a month. So far I haven’t gotten myself into any catastrophes I couldn’t find my way back out of. Come on.” Was this the whole reason she’d invited me over?

  Mom shifted her weight uneasily. “I just wanted to say my piece. Her coming back, this strange trip you went on, leaving all your clients—I don’t know what to think. I just want to know you’re okay.”

  “I am,” I said. “Nothing’s wrong at all.” Well, other than the malevolent demons lurking less than a day’s drive from here, but she didn’t have a clue about that. She was just, what, trying to protect me from a broken heart?

  She’d always fussed a little more over me, as if she wasn’t sure I really could handle the real world after all the time I spent staring at screens, but I’d thought she’d gotten over that. I had survived on my own just fine since I’d left for college eight years ago. How much more proof did she need?

  “Ky,” she said, “if you’d just think what I’m saying through, make sure you really know what you’re doing here…”

  I got up. I didn’t know whether I felt more hurt or angry, but neither of those emotions was going to take this conversation anywhere good. “I always know what I’m doing, Mom. I thought you’d trust my judgment more than this by now. Are you hassling Seth about how he’s been spending his time lately?”

  Mom blinked at me at the mention of my twin. “Why?” she said slowly. “What has your brother been doing that I’d be worried about?”

  Crap. She didn’t realize how much time he’d been spending with Rose too. I guessed with him out in his new house out of town where he could hop the stone wall into the estate without anyone noticing, the gossip mill hadn’t started going about him too. He’d slipped under the mom-concern radar… until now.

  “I don’t know,” I said, hoping my face didn’t show how flustered I felt. “I was just making a point. You definitely don’t need to worry about him either. And I, ah, do actually have a job to get back to at home, so I’d better get going. Thank you for the pie!”

  “Kyler,” Mom said, but I was already heading out the door with a little wave.

  Chapter Three

  Rose

  When I stepped close to the stone wall that surrounded the estate, the magic I’d already cast into and over those worn blocks tingled over my skin alongside the cool early morning breeze. Still there, still holding, but not with enough power that I felt completely secure.

  The sun was only just peeking over the horizon, streaking the sky with a hazy glow, but I had to do this outside work now before the estate’s few remaining employees from town showed up. I could only imagine what people would be saying if word got out that the newest Lady Hallowell went dancing along her wall every day.

  The grass whispered under my bare feet as I set them down in the first movements of the form. I reached to the spark of my magic inside me and pushed that energy out through my body with the weaving of my hands. Every gesture I made called for protection, for shielding. I sent that energy up from me, all around the estate. The Frankfords might control some of my actions with the oath we’d taken, but I wasn’t letting them get anything else from me. No magic of theirs was going to break through this barrier to spy on us. No sound would travel over these walls from more than a few feet away.

  It would have taken hours for me to circle the entire estate with its extensive forested grounds. At the back I simply cut across the gardens, tying my protections to the farthest hedges. When we’d first returned here, I’d laid down a basic warding spell around the whole property. I’d bolster that once a month. The guys and Naomi knew not to say anything sensitive that far from the house, just in case.

  My two guests… well, I hadn’t been able to explain to them why I was setting up protections in any detail, but they’d gotten the gist. I didn’t think they’d be shouting about their secrets in the forest anyway.

  That forest used to be the part of the estate that gave me the most sense of safety. Back when it’d been just me and my father and the employees, I’d escaped the loneliness of the big old house to ramble among the trees with the guys who were now my consorts. Recently, while we’d still had to hide our relationship, we’d snuck out there to meet. So many fond memories were tied to those woods—and now the Frankfords’ looming threat had cast a shadow over them.

  I set that thought aside and focused all my concentration on solidifying the magical wall laid over the real one.

  By the time I’d made it back to the front gate, my muscles were trembling from the effort and sweat had formed on my forehead. I wiped it away, letting the strain fall from my body with an exhaled breath. I had a lot of power—Naomi said more power than she’d ever seen any witch use before—but not a lot of practice yet. An hour of concentrated magicking every morning should be doing wonders for my endurance.

  I was just turning away from the wall, wondering if I might slip up to the garage-top apartment and pay Gabriel an early visit, when an engine rumbled up the road outside. Not one I recognized. I stepped closer to the wrought-iron bars of the gate, into the range where my voice would travel past it if need be.

  The tan compact pulled to a stop just outside. The driver-side window rolled down. A woman with a wispy black pixie cut leaned her head and arm out. She didn’t speak, her mouth set in a flat line, just flashed an ID with a crest I knew way too well. She was requesting entrance on the authority of the Assembly’s Justice division.

  I gave her a tight smile and pressed the controls for the gate. The Frankfords had sworn that they and their allies would see that the charges they’d encouraged against me were dropped and that they wouldn’t pursue any further ones, but that didn’t mean the rest of the Assembly couldn’t take issue with what I did. I still had to play by their rules when they came calling.

  The woman drove in and parked to the side of the drive just inside. The gate clanged shut behind her car. I stood there, fighting the urge to fidget, as she grabbed something out of the passenger seat and got out.

  There was no way to know whether this particular Assembly enforcer was just a regular witch or one with ties to the Frankfords. I couldn’t exactly ask her.

  She shut the door and adjusted her leather satchel over her shoulder. “Investigator Ruiz on behalf of the Assembly,” she said. “I believe you’re Lady Hallowell?”

  “That would be me,” I said. “What’s this about? I didn’t know there was anything to investigate here.”

  One of her thin eyebrows lifted. “Two witches with no relation to your family have recently disappeared from their homes—and we’ve determined arrived here. Their families are concerned. I’m simply here to make sure there’s no reason for that concern.”

  Oh. I should have expected this. I had expected a visit like this in the first few days after Lesley had turned up, but when no one had come calling, I’d assumed that was the end of it. Had it really taken the Assembly this long to figure out where she and Imogen were, or had their families been waiting for what they felt was the best time to prod me?

  And if the latter, why had they chosen now?

  I couldn’t exactly ask Ruiz either of those things. I gave her another polite smile and motioned toward the manor. “There isn’t anything to be concerned about, but why don’t you come in so we can talk. You can speak with the witches you’re here about too if you want. If they’re not up yet, they should be soon.”

  Ruiz nodded and followed me to the house. I ushered her through the grand front hall into the less imposing sitting room off to the side. If it’d been a li
ttle later in the day, one of the staff would have ducked in to see if we wanted anything, but right now it was on me to act as full host.

  “Can I get you some water or something else to drink?” I asked as Ruiz sat on the velvet cushion of the settee.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “No need. I’d rather get out of your hair as quickly as possible. Let’s get down to business.”

  I could appreciate that attitude. She didn’t seem accusatory so far. I stayed wary, but my fingers unclenched as I sank into the armchair across from her.

  She opened her satchel on the mahogany coffee table between us and took out a computer tablet that she flicked on. As she tapped through to whatever files she was looking for, the corner of my lips quirked up. Most of the witching folk I knew were still stuck on pen and paper. Kyler would have liked this one.

  “So,” Ruiz said, looking up from the tablet, “can you confirm that Miss Lesley Portsmith and Miss Imogen O’Brien are currently in residence on the Hallowell estate?”

  “They are,” I said. From the hum of the pipes overhead, at least one of them was currently in residence in the shower.

  “And on what date did each of them arrive here?”

  I thought back and told her. Ruiz typed on her tablet’s screen.

  “What reason did they give you for coming here?”

  I paused. I didn’t want to get my guests in trouble—or Naomi, for putting out that whisper that the Hallowell estate was a good place to seek sanctuary.

  “They didn’t feel safe, and they thought they’d feel safer here,” I settled on. “Maybe because I’m a young witch like them, managing the estate on my own? And because I made it through the trouble with my father.” I didn’t know how much the investigator knew about my arrest and the chase across the country last month, but Dad had been arrested by the main body of the Assembly. The Frankfords couldn’t have erased their memories of that.