Wreathed in Flame (Faith of the Fallen Book 3)

by Cassandra Sky West

  All the same, Savanna had taken some pains with how she’d dressed that morning. Alexi had bought her a few things that were far too stylish for Savanna to carry off with any confidence.

  “Too late to chicken out now,” Alexi said with a grin.

  Savanna shot daggers at her friend as she walked toward the door. Alexi wanted her to have friends other than a vampire. It would be nice to have people with whom she could talk to about witch things.

  “Caitlin, this is Alexi. You saw her in the shop the other day, I think. I hope it’s okay she tags along.”

  Caitlin gave Alexi a quick appraisal, though Savanna was sure she couldn’t find fault with anything. Alexi always looked like a million bucks, no matter what she was wearing.

  But she was usually wearing something awesome. Effortlessly awesome, as though it were just her natural state.

  Savanna wished she could carry off a black leather jacket and boots like her friend did.

  “Are you a witch too?” Caitlin asked.

  “No. Sorry, I’m here for moral support,” Alexi said jokingly. The three of them laughed politely. Caitlin turned and gestured them in.

  “I know we can be a bit intimidating, but Savanna, you’re the real deal. This is exciting.” Caitlin’s exuberance did a lot to calm Savanna’s nerves. She led them up the stairs to a large double door with a hand-written sign on it that proclaimed the recreation room was occupied.

  The doors opened into a large room filled with a scattering of tables and chairs, and a few couches up against the walls. A bar stood in one corner, along with a kitchenette.

  A small group of women lounged on one of the larger couches near the bar. Their heads turned to see the new arrivals.

  “I’ll wait over here.” Alexi nodded to a leather loveseat in the corner near the door and pulled out her phone. “Holler if you need me to kill anyone.”

  Caitlin led Savanna over to the group of women on the far side of the room. “Everyone, this is Savanna. She’s, uh… well, she’s—”

  “I’m a witch. Hi.” She’d said the words a million times, but somehow here, with these women, they sounded lame.

  One of the women giggled. An older woman gave her a kind but faintly patronizing smile. “Honey, we’re all witches.”

  There were all shapes and ages in the circle, but the one thing they all held in common was their impeccable taste in clothing. Savanna felt out of place in her borrowed clothes. The top didn’t even fit right. Alexi was no good at guessing bra sizes.

  A spell came to mind, and Savanna cast it without thinking. She flexed her fingers, and blue energy swirled between them.

  The power rushed through her, merely a drop amongst the rainstorm of raw energy the Well could produce. She went over the spell in her mind, waving her hand over Caitlin, and then herself.

  Light and reality bent. A heartbeat later, Savanna was wearing the same thing as Caitlin. The colors went better with Caitlin’s hair, but the clothes were nice enough that Savanna didn’t mind.

  A moment of shocked silence stretched out.

  Had she misread this whole situation? Were they about to run screaming from the room? Or worse… would she suddenly see the demons standing over their shoulders?

  “I’m Clarice,” the older woman said, all the kind patronization gone from her voice, and replaced by… respect. “This is Bethany, Marta, Keisha, and of course you know Caitlin. We’ve seen a little magic before, but… nothing like that.”

  Savanna let the spell drop reluctantly. “It takes a little effort, but it’s called a glamour. An illusion to make you look like whatever you want.”

  “Can I look like I’ve lost a few pounds?” Clarice asked, and the others laughed.

  “I’ve had too much pasta this week,” another said. “I’m up three pounds that I wouldn’t mind shaving off.”

  Their easy laughter and ready smiles put Savanna at ease. She sat down and answered a few of their questions… and then asked a few of her own.

  They all had their own stories, but not many of them involved much magic. Once, Marta had lit a candle with her mind, but that was apparently the most power they’d ever managed.

  Mostly they met, drank wine, ordered pizza, and talked. Savanna liked them all. There was a friendliness there that had not been present in her previous covens.

  “Your eyes are gorgeous. Are those a glamour, too?” Keisha asked. She was only a few years older than Savanna, with skin darker than hers, and long black hair.

  “I used to have lighter hair and brown eyes. But, I did something… dangerous, when I was sixteen. I channeled a lot of power. More than I was ever meant to, and it changed me. Magic always comes with a price.”

  The arrival of the pizza interrupted prevented any more on that subject, and Savanna was thankful. Bethany went to the bar and produced a bottle of expensive wine and several glasses.

  Savanna thought about telling them she was only nineteen, but decided against it. There was an easy, friendly feeling here with these women. She didn’t want to spoil it. She resolved to only sip the wine.

  The women all cast the occasional, curious glance in Alexi’s direction. Alexi lay on her back on the loveseat in the far corner, one leg hooked over the arm with her phone held up. Texting John, probably.

  “Does your friend want some pizza?” Caitlin asked.

  Savanna shook her head. “Alexi doesn’t do pizza. Or wine, either, really—”

  “Gosh, that’s my whole life, right there,” Keisha said.

  Savanna smiled. “She’s really awesome, she just takes a while to warm up.”

  “Is she a witch, too?” Caitlin asked.

  “Uh, no. She’s… complicated. Maybe some other time, we can talk about it.” Savanna could see the curiosity burning in Caitlin’s eyes, but the woman gracefully let the subject drop.

  “What do you do, Savanna?” Clarice asked.

  “I…” Savanna paused. She was sitting here with two models, and architect, and a real-estate agent.

  In the back of her mind she could almost hear Alexi saying, Don’t forget the time or two you saved the world. It’s kind of a full-time job.

  “I work in a bookstore,” she said finally. Lamely. “The Book Fairy on Capitol Hill, the one I met Caitlin in.”

  “But, you can do magic,” Marta said. She had a thick Brazilian accent, and turned up the end of every sentence in a way that made it difficult to tell if she was asking a question or making a statement.

  “Yes, but… magic’s not really a job. I mean, I guess it could be, but… magic always comes at a price. That’s the number one rule.”

  “So, you can’t conjure money for yourself?” Bethany asked.

  Savanna shook her head. “No. Well… maybe, but the price would be steep. More than I’d be willing to pay. Not to mention there are other dangers with openly wielding magic of that magnitude.” She paused. “There are some ways to make money with magic. Given the right set of circumstances, I can see into the future. Sometimes farther than I would like.”

  “You can… see the future?” Clarice asked.

  Immediately, the others were all talking over each other, asking her to read their palms or tell them about—

  “Easy!” Savanna held up a hand. “One at a time.”

  “How do you do it?” Bethany asked.

  “I need something to anchor, otherwise I see my future. Usually I need time to prepare a ritual, and I need a small amount of blood to start the process. However, If I’m just trying to see my future. Then all I need is to focus on the spell.”

  “Blood?” Caitlin asked.

  Savanna looked at them all blankly. They didn’t know. They were all witches, but they didn’t know that the magic they wielded was blood magic.

  “Magic has a price,” Savanna said again, quietly. “Witches cast spells—all but the smallest ones, like lighting a candle—using blood. Ours… or someone else’s. I’d like to say the ‘someone else’ is always voluntary…” She swallowed,
trying not to think of him. “But that’s not always the case.”

  Their eyes were wide.

  “Is that why—?” Caitlin gestured to her forearm, and Savanna looked down. She’d worn long sleeves, but… one had ridden up a bit, showing the scars there.

  Savanna covered the scars instinctively. “Yes. I only use my own blood.”

  Liar.

  She couldn’t bear to tell them about the times she’d used someone else’s. Not yet. Probably not ever.

  “Does telling the future require blood?” Caitlin asked.

  “No, but—”

  “Oh, can you show us?” Marta clasped her hands together in a pleading gesture, and the others nodded enthusiastically, adding their own little pleas. Their sheer excitement made it impossible for Savanna to cling to her morose mood.

  “Okay, maybe just a little. It won’t be much, though. It’s more powerful with blood, so without it, we probably won’t see a whole lot.”

  “What do we need to do?” Keisha asked.

  “Form a circle.”

  Soon, they were all holding hands—except Alexi, who was still on the loveseat.

  Savanna had done this a hundred times. The spell was simply a catalyst to start the process. Symbols, blood, and incantations could make it clearer, more precise—even more predictable. However, some of her most powerful visions of the future, like the one which lead her to Alexi, or the one she received about her failure to stop the zombie apocalypse—those had come entirely unbidden.

  The warmth of magic tingled in her fae hand, shooting through the circle. A gasp ran through the women like wave, until Savanna felt a tingle in her opposite hand. They were linked, now. It wasn’t something Savanna had done before, but then again, she hadn’t used fae magic in quite this way before.

  Darkness descended on them. The rec center disappeared and for a moment nothing was visible.

  A beam of light cut through the darkness and Savanna had to squint. The light wavered, then formed into a hall light. In her vision, she stood before a door with a clouded glass insert. Gold letters spelled out the words, Attorney, Finances, Contracts. No name or address.

  She could move in this vision. Not all of them worked that way, but she could tell with this one. She heard a voice. A man was talking on the other side of the door. Something about his words… they poured out of him like honey.

  She pushed open the door, and an involuntary shiver of fear ran through her. This vision was her future… but it felt wrong. She wanted to break it, to push the others out of it… but she had to know.

  The office was small—just large enough for a solid oak desk and an obese, greasy looking man sitting behind it. He had a cigar in his mouth and he was puffing away at it, filling the room with its sour aroma.

  Alexi and Savanna stood in front of him. They just stood there. Why weren’t they moving? It almost looked as if they were… swaying.

  They were under a spell. The power would have to be immense to ensnare Alexi, or be based on something she has no defense against—like fae magic.

  The shadows behind them coalesced to massive men, with heads like wolves, and massive claws where their hands should be. They stepped out of the shadow. Blood flew as one decapitated Alexi in a single strike.

  The women screamed and jerked their hands away from Savanna. The spell broke. The power of it welled up and snapped into Savanna.

  Blue light flared and flung Savanna across the room. Strong arms closed around her, breaking her flight only seconds before she met the wall.

  “You okay?” Alexi asked.

  Savanna looked up to see Alexi’s brilliant blue eyes staring down at her. She shook her head, trying to clear the memory of what just happened.

  “Well, I’m glad I came here tonight,” Savanna said as Alexi helped her up.

  “What—what on earth was that?” Caitlin’s voice was high and shrill, her voice on the edge of breaking.

  “Werewolves,” Savanna said.

  Marta’s eyebrows shot up. “Werewolves?”

  Savanna could feel the panic collectively rising among the women.

  “Alexi?” she whispered. “Could you—?”

  “Sure.” Alexi seemed to gather herself for a moment, and then she spoke with power. “Calm down, it wasn’t real. You’re in no danger.”

  Alexi’s power washed over them, and they settled visibly, like children calmed by their mother’s voice.

  “What did you see?” Alexi said, turning to Savanna.

  “Our death.”

  “Oh.” Alexi sighed. “So…Tuesday?”

  “I can’t believe he’s letting you keep the bike,” Savanna said to Alexi over the roar of the engine and the howl of the wind.

  Alexi smirked, she couldn’t either. Warren was a nice enough fellow, and helped them out on more than one occasion, but when he said she could keep it… well the cynical part of her mind couldn’t help but wonder if he had ulterior motives. She didn’t pick anything up from him. Not like when she was around John. She could feel the heat rolling off him, and she couldn’t say it wasn’t mostly wanted. Which brought a whole other mess of thoughts to her that she didn’t want to deal with at the moment.

  “Alexi, what did John say?” Savanna shouted.

  She shook her head. Her relationship with the detective was complicated at best. She liked him. He was nice and normal. He obviously liked her and if she had to guess, more than liked. He was patient, kind, and attentive. Then why did she feel like she was using him? It wasn’t as if they were even sleeping together. Every time she thought of him, though, it was if she were looking for a reason to cut him loose.

  She shook her head. Based on Savanna’s vision, this wasn’t the time to fall into a malaise about how she felt about her boyfriend.

  “He sent me the address. He and Summers are positive this is the guy—but with no hard evidence of a crime, they can’t even question him. He’s a lawyer, too, and that doesn’t help.”

  Which made sense. The way the police operated wasn’t simpatico with how she liked to work. It surprised her when John broke the law to help her, but what exactly was he supposed to do? Werewolves kidnapped my niece wasn’t something they could really bring to a judge.

  John couldn’t exactly arrest the man for putting a geas on the Pos, and they had very little real evidence the suspect had kidnapped Wei. Even with everything that had recently happened, the world wasn’t ready for that. No, it would be up to her and Savanna to find the little girl.

  She maneuvered the bike around cars and between semi-trucks as she gunned the engine. Marysville was too far away from Seattle to go the speed limit all the way.

  Victor told her about wolf magic—how it was strongest at a certain time of night, when it hung the highest in the sky. She needed to get there before that happened. Tangling with wolves was going to be hard enough without that disadvantage.

  At least it wasn’t a full moon—or a supermoon. The wolves would be no more or less powerful tonight than they usually were… but she wanted to miss their apex.

  Alexi knew from experience that Savanna’s visions were only possible futures, not set in stone. They’d changed it more than once. She grinned a feral, vicious smile. Won’t they be surprised.

  Surprise made up for a lot, especially when it came to the supernatural.

  “You have any luck figuring out who the werewolf is?” Savanna raised her voice to be heard over the rush of air.

  “The tattoo—French Foreign Legion. That’s all I could find out.”

  “What’s that?”

  “An army in France—foreigners, all of them. Cannon fodder for the French army. They’re tough, though, and mean. They’ve seen more warfare in the last hundred years than any other army.”

  Tough and mean didn’t even begin to describe the man she had fought. If she were honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she could win against him. Not with everything being equal. He was strong, and fast. And he had more experience than she did, by a long
shot.

  If she could summon her sword to fight him, it would be a different matter, but her powers didn’t come with a guidebook. For the hundredth time, she cursed Michael for being so tightlipped—so unwilling to answer any of her questions, as though they had all the time in the world.

  For now, she would have to rely on herself, and if she were going to fight them, she would need to be more than physically capable. She couldn’t rely on her speed or strength to see her through that fight.

  They were all at least a match for her in strength. Probably stronger.

  She didn’t go to the gym, or practice in a ring. Most of her Muay Thai skills were pure instinct. She acted, and things happened.

  Alexi couldn’t make herself stronger. Not unless she were willing to drink a lot of innocent blood. No, she would have to be smarter than them. Plan her moves out two in advance and make sure she always had a backup.

  It probably wouldn’t hurt for her to find a place to practice her Muay Thai. She might not be able to increase her strength, but she could increase her proficiency. If the Arcanum wasn’t acting like a bunch of scared children, she could work out with them. Between all their agents they had hundreds of martial arts.

  Sing still wasn’t returning their calls, and she’d just about given up. The last time she spoke to him, she’d gotten the distinct impression that his bosses blamed Savanna for Connor’s death. There was nothing else coming down that pipe.

  There was an injustice to that, beyond making Savanna out to be a murderer. Connor was a friend, and one of the bravest men Alexi had ever met. To paint his death as murder instead of sacrifice… it made what he had done so much less.

  He’d saved them all, and all they wanted to do was cry foul.

  A tap on her shoulder interrupted her thoughts. “What did you think of the girls?” Savanna asked.

  Alexi smiled, glad for the distraction. “I thought they were going to get down on their knees and start worshiping you.” She couldn’t see Savanna, but she felt her friend laugh.