Touch of Shadow (The Shadow Sorceress Book 5)

by Bilinda Sheehan

"And you do?"

  Marcel remained silent, but I'd seen the pain in his eyes, the longing in his voice when he'd described her. And then it hit me. When we'd first met, he'd eluded to the fact that he was searching for someone. It couldn't be a coincidence. I'd seen enough magic to know there was no such thing.

  "She's the one you're looking for," I said.

  "I don't know what you're talking about." He picked up his pace as the car came into view.

  I followed him, and as soon as we'd both ducked out beneath the chain blocking off the road down to the swamp, I grabbed his arm and tried to force him around to face me.

  "You love her despite the fact that she is with Heddou," I said.

  "She is not with him, she has no choice..." Marcel said, bitterly, as he jerked out of my grip.

  "What do you mean ‘no choice’?" My stomach sank into my shoes.

  "It was a punishment. She is my wife and our love was forbidden by Gran Ibo...."

  "I don't understand," I said.

  "Widelene is Gran Ibo's mortal daughter. A true daughter. She is blessed with great power, and Gran Ibo had high hopes for her mortal child. That was, until I came along...." He trailed off as though he could see it all unfolding in front of his eyes.

  "So, what? She split you both up?"

  "Worse. She took back the strength of Widelene's power, left her with only a few charms, and handed her over to Heddou."

  "Wait, and you and Heddou allowed all of this?"

  "Heddou and I were once friends, but our thirst for power drove a wedge between us.... Gran tricked Widelene, took her memories of me and put a spell on her, so that the first man she would lay eyes on would be her true love." Marcel covered his mouth before scrubbing his hand down over the stubble that covered his chin. "I tried to get to her," he said finally.

  "But Heddou got there first," I finished for him.

  "He doesn't love her, doesn't care about her, and she worships him like he's a god." The anger in Marcel's voice was palpable and I couldn't blame him for it. If someone had intervened in my life like that and took the one I loved....

  Someone had intervened and had taken the one I loved. Or at least, it certainly felt like that. At least, in my case, I didn't have to see the one I loved fall for someone else.

  "Why did he agree to it?"

  "Power—she gave him power. I told you, our thirst for power drove a wedge between us."

  "Does Widelene know this?" I asked.

  "Are you crazy? Of course not. When Gran Ibo took her memories of me, she took her memories of everything. Of who she was, of the power she once possessed."

  "And now Jasper has her," I finished.

  "Kalfu has her, and he knows who she is. He knows that the power Gran took from her still exists. He can use her to take that power for himself," Marcel said.

  "Great," I said sarcastically. "Is this going to get any worse?"

  "When dealing with the gods, I've found you should always be careful what you wish for." Marcel sounded so utterly broken that I couldn't help but feel pity for him. Of course, I was doing the same thing for him that I had hated him doing for me, pitying him.

  "So how do we stop him, then?" I asked.

  "You're not going to like the answer," Marcel said.

  Rolling my eyes, I tugged open the car door and slid into the back seat. "I usually don't like the answer, but that doesn’t mean I won't do what needs to in order to get shit done," I said.

  "Good. I need some time to prepare first," he said, holding the car door open as Victoria climbed into the front.

  "Fine. It'll give me a chance to get some other things sorted," I said, leaning back against the leather and closing my eyes. "Wake me once we're back in the city. I didn't get much sleep last night and I plan on catching up."

  The sound of Marcel chuckling as he climbed into the backseat and Victoria started up the engine were the last things I heard before my exhaustion caught up with me and I sank into the darkness.

  25

  We made it back to the city far too quickly, and when Victoria shook me awake, I groaned, slapping at her hands.

  "Just five more minutes," I said sleepily.

  "You're snoring," she said. "And drooling."

  I sat up with a sigh and scrubbed my hand across my face, but there was nothing there.

  "I thought the fae couldn't lie."

  Victoria smiled and shrugged. "It's not a lie if it's true most of the time," she said.

  "Wait, where's Marcel?" I'd been asleep but I was certain I'd have noticed the car stopping to let him out.

  "He's gone to prepare. Said he'll meet us at midnight at the cemetery where Jasper took Heddou."

  "What do you think he has to prepare?" I asked, searching the floor for signs of the clay pot Gran Ibo had given me … but it was gone.

  "He took it," Victoria said, as though she could read my mind. "And Voodoo rituals aren't my area of expertise, so I don't know."

  I sighed. Voodoo rituals weren't my thing either, and Marcel wasn't exactly the most trustworthy of men. Just letting him go to prepare for whatever plan he had in mind left me feeling more than a little uneasy. Add to that the fact that he had already told me I wasn't going to like whatever it was that he had in mind, and I was positively antsy about the whole situation.

  "Why are we back at the Elite offices?" I asked, staring past Victoria's shoulder to the building ahead.

  "I have a mountain of paperwork to catch up on. And unless you plan on falling behind with yours, I suggest you do some catch up of your own," she said.

  I stared at her, unable to keep the look of disgust from my face. "You're a changeling. The last thing I thought I would ever hear you worrying about was getting behind on paperwork."

  She smiled. "Fine. I plan on pretending to do paperwork just so I can attend sparring practice later."

  "And you brought me why?" Not that my sparring didn't need a little work. In fact, if I was honest, it needed more than a little work. But after everything that had gone on, I was tired. Weary would have been a better word.

  "Graham wanted to see you and get a run down on everything." She paused and I could tell there was something she wasn't telling me.

  "What is it, Victoria?"

  "I think he has some news on that case you two were working on not-so-secretly," she said finally.

  Bile crept up the back of my throat. I swallowed it back. If it was good news, Graham would have been on the phone. The fact that he wasn't, that he was back here in the Elite offices meant whatever the news was, it definitely wasn't going to be a positive outcome.

  Hopping out of the car, I stretched, letting my back and shoulder pop. Despite being tired, my body felt good, so much so that if the memory of Tess's tongue lapping at the wound she'd made in my shoulder wasn't so fresh in my head, I wouldn't have believed it had only been a few hours since I'd almost bled out in Nic's arms.

  "You should eat before tonight," Victoria said, her uncharacteristic concern catching me unawares.

  "Since when did my eating habits become such a concern?" I asked.

  "Since I know you've used a lot of magic recently and your body is still healing itself. If you are to face the loa that controls the human Jasper, then you need strength and fuel. Strength can only be won in the training room, but fuel is easier to obtain. You should do everything to increase your odds of winning."

  "Just how many battles have you gone into?" I asked, unable to keep the question to myself. She was right, but then, I was discovering that when it came to matters of war and the fight against the preternaturals who stepped out of line, which was beginning to feel more and more like a war with every day that passed, Victoria was always right. That kind of knowledge didn't come from sitting on the sidelines while others fought; it could only come from hard-won experience.

  "Too many to count," she said with a smile.

  "Why do I get the feeling that many of them were the real deal with swords and everything?" I said.


  "Perhaps one day I'll tell you about some of them. In the meantime, eat and rest or we will lose, and I will hold you personally responsible, a fate you really want no part in." Her smile widened into a grin, but I couldn't shake the feeling that she meant every word of her threat.

  "If we lose, it won't be because of me," I said. "Scout’s honour."

  Victoria frowned at me as I started to cross the road. "I didn't know the Elite utilised scouts in their operations."

  "I'm talking about the kids’ group thing … you know, the one where they go out into the woods camping, and helping elderly ladies across the road."

  She shook her head, looking even more confused than she had been a moment before. "I swear, sometimes you humans speak deliberately in riddles. It's no wonder you have so much miscommunication all the time."

  We reached the Elite offices and I pushed the door open, holding it for Victoria. She didn't say anything as she moved ahead of me and the door swung shut behind us. I still hadn't wrapped my head around the whole not being able to thank anyone for anything where the fae were concerned. And part of me couldn't help but wonder if they were just all really rude. They already saw themselves as better than humans, so “rude” really wasn't a stretch of the imagination.

  The main office area was surprisingly quiet, and I couldn't help but note the number of empty desks. Were there really that many open case files? Admittedly, I hadn't been spending enough time in the office, and it was definitely beginning to show in my lack of turning in complete reports, but there was just always something to do. But had I really been away so much I'd failed to notice the drastic uptick in preternatural crime?

  "Looks like he's already waiting for you," Victoria said, drawing me out of my reverie.

  Graham sat in his office, his silhouette visible through the half-closed blinds.

  "Do you want me to wait for you?" Victoria asked.

  "No. I've got some other things I need to get done. I'll see you later down at the cemetery," I said.

  She nodded in reply before turning on her heel and heading back out through the glass doors.

  "God help them," I muttered beneath my breath. Whoever was holding sparring practice was going to seriously regret it once Victoria was through with them. I'd seen her action enough times to know she didn't do anything in half measures, and practice or not, this would be no exception.

  The few people left in the office didn't even look at me; everyone's attention was elsewhere, and from the back of the room, I could hear the raised voice of one of the Elite officers as he had what could only be described as a heated debate with someone else on the phone. Or at least, I hoped it was the phone. He paused and silence returned, only to be broken once more by another angry tirade of his. If it wasn't a phone call, then he was arguing with himself, and stuff like that never ended well.

  I made my way down the floor to Graham's private office and knocked quietly on the door.

  The seconds ticked by before Graham's muffled voice could be heard from within. "Enter," he said, and it sounded as though he'd called to me from beneath a stack of papers.

  Opening the door, I slipped silently inside. He continued to work, his pen moving quickly across the pages as he scribbled notes on an open file in handwriting that any drunken spider would be proud of.

  "Victoria said you wanted to see me," I said.

  Graham dropped the pen and glanced up. "Sorry, I didn't know it was you." He sounded weary and he scrubbed his hands over his eyes and face before stifling a yawn with the back of his hand. "There's just a never-ending pile of paperwork," he said, shoving the file he'd been working on to one side. He looked at me again and his eyes widened slightly.

  “What?” I frowned.

  "How are you healed?" he asked, taking in my perfectly-healthy appearance.

  "Long story," I said.

  "Give me the short version." There was a hitch of emotion in his voice that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

  "Fine, then: Nic."

  "I thought he was ... different," Graham said, emphasising the word.

  "Different isn't bad." I jammed my hand on my hip and stared at him defiantly.

  Graham's eyes met mine once more, questions swirling just beneath the surface of his heavy gaze. I stared him down and he finally raised his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, different is fine. Just be safe, okay?"

  "How's Peter?" I asked, ignoring his stalling tactics—and that's all they were. I'd known Graham long enough to know when he was trying to delay the inevitable.

  Graham sighed and placed his hands on the desk. "They met with Karis today and it isn't good news...."

  I nodded. I'd known the news wasn't going to be good, but there was still a part of me that had hoped I was wrong, that perhaps the doctors could do something that I couldn't, that science could succeed where magic had failed.

  "So, what are they saying?"

  "They want to switch the life support off..." Graham said, his words dropping into the silence like rocks into a still pond.

  Gripping the back of the chair on my side of the desk, I held onto it as I slid around it and dropped into the seat.

  "They need her permission in order to donate the organs..." Graham continued.

  "Jesus.... Did they tell her all of this at once?"

  He nodded and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Hell, I didn't even know the boy—I'd met him only fleetingly—but I'd seen fear in his eyes, and innocence. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair. His life had barely started, and now to have it ripped away so callously….

  "Tact really isn't their forte, is it?" I said, bitterness lacing my voice. The memory of the way the medical personnel had behaved after my mother had died drew anger from my core: demanding to know what plans I had for the body; ordering me to get a funeral home to pick up the body because the morgue was particularly busy that week. I'd gone with the funeral director to the morgue, and it had taken all of my strength not to unleash chaos upon them all when they'd wheeled her naked body—wrapped only in a sheet that left nothing to the imagination or to dignity—out in a cardboard box, her belongings dumped on top of her inside a bio-hazard bag.

  The funeral director had seen my rage and had patted the back of my hand kindly as he leaned in close. "Remember, the dead don't pay no mind to little things like this. She doesn't care anymore. The good Lord above has her in His arms now, and she's washed clean like a babe," he'd said, sliding the cardboard lid back into place.

  "But I'm not dead and I do mind," I’d replied, gritting my teeth.

  "And we'll see her off any way you like. She's in good hands now." He'd smiled at me, sympathy shining in his old, blue eyes.

  And so, I'd let it go, but whenever it popped back into my head, it brought with it the same white hot rage that had filled me that day.

  "Earth to Amber—where did you go just then?" Graham asked, and I snapped back to the present.

  "Nothing, just reminds me of something..." I said, quietly.

  "Well, whatever it is, be careful. Your eyes did that weird glowing thing again, and with Nic around, you've got to be more careful than ever."

  With a sigh, I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back into the plastic curve of the chair. "What did she tell the doctors?"

  "She said no, she's not ready to say goodbye."

  Drawing my lower lip in between my teeth, I chewed it thoughtfully. It was understandable—what parent wanted to say goodbye to their child? After all, life wasn't meant to work out that way. The child wasn't meant to go before the parent, especially one who had barely lived at all.

  "What about the case you're working? You all went off grid today and Victoria was particularly vague on the phone when I finally managed to get a hold of her," Graham said, breaking through my thoughts once more.

  "We went to see one of the loa," I said, and a small smile curled my lips as Graham's eyes widened.

  "Which one? I thought they had to be conjured, or summoned."

  "No
t this one … she's like the mother of them all, Gran Ibo," I said, but there wasn't a flicker of recognition for her name in his eyes. "It's a really long and complicated story."

  "One I look forward to reading about in your report." Graham smirked and I huffed out a breath.

  "What is it with you people and reports all the goddamned time?" I asked.

  "‘You people’? That's a new one on me," he said, but the smile on his face said he was just teasing.

  "Marcel seems to think he has a plan, so we're meeting him at the cemetery where it went down with Jasper yesterday."

  "I thought you didn't trust him?"

  "I haven't decided yet..." I said.

  "But you'll go along with his plan nonetheless?"

  "I'll watch my back, but you said it yourself: he's the expert. Fighting against him is only going to cause more problems in the long run, and anyway, I don't think he's bad, maybe just misguided," I said.

  Graham nodded and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. "I suppose you need me to sign off on some back-up?"

  With a shake of my head, I pushed up from the chair. "Honestly, I think it'd just make it more complicated. The less people we've got to protect and keep an eye on, the easier it'll be to get in and out. Or at least that's my plan."

  "Is that a wise move?"

  With my hand on the door, I shrugged. "At this point, I'm not sure I know what is or isn't a good idea anymore."

  "Fine. But I'll have a team on standby anyway. Wherever you need them, just let me know and I'll arrange it."

  "Thanks," I said.

  "Stay safe, Morgan.”

  "You know me."

  "Yeah, that's the problem," he grumbled, but it was half-hearted.

  "I'm going to grab some food and a change of clothes before tonight," I said.

  "Just let me know about the back-up," he said again as I pulled open the office door.

  As I did, I spied Jason leaning against the wall next to the door.

  He smiled at me and I glared at him in return before turning my back on him and giving Graham a thumbs up.

  The second the door was shut, Jason grabbed my arm. "We need to talk," he said.