“You should mention that next time you chat with Gran,” I said with a grin. Kett and Gran didn’t speak. Like, not ever. I’d seen them spend hours together and still manage to not even make eye contact.
“How are we supposed to help you?” Cicely asked, attempting to be somewhat professional. “I can’t … I won’t amplify vampire … powers.”
“The other two will step into the hall.”
“No way,” Ash said.
“Screw that.” Dave’s vehement assertion overlapped that of the fire wielder’s.
“Now.” Kett’s voice resonated around the makeshift office, heavy on drama and magic alike.
I felt the vampire’s command brush by me. Ash and Dave stiffened. Then Ash stood up from the couch awkwardly and they both crossed to the door. Dave had some trouble opening it.
“Interesting,” Kett said. “He’s fighting the compulsion. I wonder if that’s an aspect of the nullifier power.”
Cicely gripped the edge of the desk, staring helplessly after her friends as they managed to open the door and exit into the hall.
Warner followed them, raising an eyebrow at me as he passed. Yeah, I didn’t like the compulsion trick either, but I was damn surprised that Kett had been this patient already.
“You’re scary, you know,” I muttered.
“Not to you.” Kett pulled one of the guest chairs farther away from the desk and turned it ninety degrees. Then he patted its back.
I sat in the offered chair, not disputing his assertion.
But Kett had changed after London. The power that ran through his veins — literally — wasn’t entirely his own. I wasn’t sure, especially after the display in the club, that he was wholly in control of that power yet. I wondered how long that took for a vampire. How long did it take to absorb the magic that reanimated them? I’d never met a fledgling vampire, but all the deep, dark rumors — all the whispered stories that even humans told about sunlight, wooden stakes, and feeding frenzies … well, I was fairly certain those were based in some sort of reality.
So was Kett a different type of uber-powerful fledgling now? Would the Conclave have made him an elder in that case? I knew that the witches’ Convocation had ancient ways of sharing magic, and when filling their thirteen seats, they typically only selected members from the most powerful and influential covens. Perhaps the Conclave was the same and Kett’s inclusion was power-based only. Or maybe it was a way to rein their suddenly unpredictable executioner in.
Kett pulled out a second chair, turned it to face me, and sat down. He looked at Cicely expectantly.
She looked at us, utterly scared and completely perplexed.
“She’s going to need some words,” I said to Kett. “Some explanation. Most of us don’t own manuals on what to do when powerful Adepts show up at your window and demand your participation.”
“You will amplify my telepathic abilities,” Kett coolly informed Cicely.
Her mouth dropped open. Yeah, vampires were terrifying. I’d gathered that — similar to witches or even dragons — they didn’t all come with a specific set of abilities beyond their immortality, strength, and invulnerability. I was fairly certain all vampires could use some form of compulsion — that was part of the whole hunter/prey aspect of their magic — but that not all of them were telepathic.
In fact, before he’d mentioned it yesterday, I hadn’t been a hundred percent sure it was an ability Kett wielded. The vampire was a lot of smoke and mirrors, right up to the moment he wasn’t.
Kett tilted his head, still looking at Cicely. “Does she require more words?” he asked.
Cicely shook her head and stood. Her legs looked shaky. I felt sorry for her … well, as sorry as I could feel for someone who’d given serious thought to shooting me.
The amplifier crossed around the desk to stand behind Kett. He reached forward, grabbed the arms of my chair, and tugged me and it closer until our knees were sandwiched together.
“I’ve … I’ve never done a vampire before.” Cicely caught my gaze over Kett’s head and bit her lip.
“If it doesn’t work, no worries,” I said.
“But the dowser will know,” Kett said.
I sighed. “I’m trying to calm her.”
“I’m trying to keep moving.”
I looked back at Cicely. “I already know what your magic does … what it tastes like … namely, the Adept you’re amplifying. So I’ll know if you don’t at least try.”
She nodded and reached to touch Kett’s temples from behind. He, in turn, pressed his icy fingertips to my temples.
Peppermint magic tickled my taste buds. Ah, this was going to be rather intimate. Maybe even uncomfortably so. I thought about closing my eyes instead of staring directly into Kett’s ice-blue orbs, but didn’t want to appear intimidated. For Cicely’s sake, not my own. Kett seemed to be walking a narrow line of self-control, and acting at all like prey might tip him to the wrong side of that balance.
“It might be more helpful if you removed the necklace,” Kett murmured, his voice low.
“And let you get your grubby paws on it?” I teased. “No way.”
“I am neither grubby, nor do I have paws.” A smile flickered over the vampire’s face.
I glanced up at Cicely, who did have her eyes closed in concentration. “Leaving it on would be better.” Removing my necklace around unknown magic was a terrible idea, though I might be forced to do so if it blocked Cicely’s amplifier power.
Kett tipped his chin in a nod. “You’ve worked with a telepath before?” he asked Cicely.
“Sort of,” she murmured.
“Well then, you know where to focus.”
Cicely’s magic rose underneath her fingertips, glowing a pale tint of blue that was a couple of shades darker than Kett’s eyes. Now that I was closer — and not surrounded by so much other magic — I could taste the amplifier’s own power … a subtle hint of rosewater Turkish delight. But though her magic appeared as a shade of blue, it held no hint of the grassiness I associated with witches or the earthiness that usually accompanied sorcerers. I wondered if that aligned her more with oracles and readers — Adepts who worked with mind magic — than witches.
Cicely’s rosewater magic was quickly overwhelmed by Kett’s deep peppermint. The vampire’s eyes glowed red, though his touch on my temples remained gentle and his gaze didn’t shift from mine.
“No screwing around in my head, Kett,” I muttered. “Or I’ll gut you.”
He laughed, low and husky. He was enjoying himself. But then, who didn’t when given a legitimate reason to exercise their powers?
“Think of the map, dowser,” he coaxed. “Relax. And don’t call up the power of the necklace or the knife. I’ll be in and out in a breath.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I muttered.
Cicely snorted involuntarily and I smiled at her. Then I closed my eyes to focus.
“Open,” Kett said. “Windows to the soul and all that.”
“Except you aren’t looking for my soul, vampire.”
He smiled, revealing his very white, very straight, and thankfully not yet pointy teeth. The expression was completely at odds with his red eyes. “I’m looking for your heart, Jade,” he murmured. “That’s where you keep all your darkest fears. And you fear the map.”
I swallowed. Then, refusing to dig meaning out of his words, I focused on the whirling shards of red ice I could see in his eyes.
I thought about the map. I thought about the centipede. That, I could see clearly in my mind because I’d felt its magic, and because I still had Rochelle’s sketch stuffed in my satchel. I’d seen the centipede shift, moving across the tattoo. Then the map had shifted as well. Blue and green reformed into … more green and blue.
“Hmmm,” Kett said. His cool peppermint magic intensified against my temples, as if he were icing my skin underneath his careful touch. My jaw began to ache. Red shards of ice danced and danced and danced in Kett’s eyes. Then I c
ould feel the shards behind my own eyes, with more ice filling my sinuses and plugging my nose … burning across my tongue, coating the back of my throat … choking me. Slicing into my brain —
I pushed the peppermint magic away, shoving it all back toward Kett without stopping to think about it.
Cicely shrieked, stumbled back from Kett, and almost fell. She was holding her hands, with her fingertips curled as if she’d burnt them on something.
Kett grunted. He’d pulled his hands away from me, and quickly. “Not necessary, dowser.” He sounded as unruffled as always, though he was rubbing the tips of his own fingers together.
Trying to not look too relieved, since I’d obviously hurt them both, I asked, “Did you see the map?”
Kett nodded, and I slid my chair back from his knees until I had enough clearance to stand. He mimicked my motions.
“Thank you,” I said to Cicely. “If you’re ever in Vancouver … British Columbia, that is … I run a bakery called Cake in a Cup.”
Cicely nodded. She’d retreated behind the desk and was holding her arms crossed, with her hands tucked underneath them.
I stepped to the door. Kett got there before me to open it. Feeling insanely bad about running away from an Adept so clearly traumatized, I turned to look back at Cicely. She looked tiny and young behind the desk. I wondered if the evening would haunt her.
“Will you be okay?”
She bit her lip but nodded. I took her at her word as I stepped out into the hall. Kett followed.
Ash and Dave were leaning against the far wall, eyeing us as we exited. Kett snapped his fingers and both the Adepts jerked to life. Then they quickly cut a wide swathe around us to step back into the office. The conversation within turned quickly heated, but I tuned out the actual words. They’d been paid well for their troubles. Each one of those gold coins was worth hundreds of dollars — maybe a thousand or more — even if only sold to be melted down. A true collector, or an Adept who knew of guardians and dragons, might be willing to pay much, much more.
“You’re mad at me,” Kett said as we walked down the dimly lit, grimy-walled hall.
“That usually doesn’t bother you,” I answered.
“It always bothers me.”
“I’m not mad. Just claustrophobic.”
Kett nodded and stepped sideways into the shadows — still in the hall with me, always at my back, but not so present magically or in my mind.
Warner was waiting at the end of the hall. He looked at me, concerned. I shook my head.
“I was making the fledglings nervous,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Not all of us can be centuries old and uber powerful.”
Warner smirked at me. I managed to grin back at him, though my brain was still feeling peppermint-iced over.
“Where to, vampire?” the sentinel asked the shadowed hall behind me.
“South America,” Kett answered. “Peru, specifically. It’s been many years since I’ve visited, but the shape of the country’s coastline is unmistakable even on a hand-drawn map.”
“Great,” I groused. “That’s the territory of the healer, and we all know how much he likes me right now.”
“Yes,” Warner said agreeably. “Too much.”
∞
I’d been diligently doing my homework for the last three months or so, so I knew there was a grid point portal located in Peru somewhere. Over land, not water. Thankfully. But I knew little else about the region — so much so that I obviously couldn’t identify it on a map.
“I guess the grid point portal is the place to start,” I said as we stepped out of the warehouse and onto the night-shrouded city sidewalks, turning back toward Haoxin’s apartment. At least, that’s where I assumed Warner was leading us. I was still shaking off the residual feeling of having my brain frozen by peppermint ice.
“We’ll need Qiuniu’s permission to travel there,” Warner said. “And perhaps some guidance if he is amenable.”
We hadn’t needed Haoxin’s explicit permission when we’d used the portal to travel to Hope Town for the first instrument of assassination — nor had we gotten it to come to San Francisco, which in hindsight might not have been a great idea. Though technically, we weren’t hunting down the next instrument here. Like I’d said, things had changed among the guardians since we returned with the braids, but maybe I just hadn’t noticed that the nine weren’t always in agreement before. They certainly hadn’t been in agreement about me — so that, thankfully, my continued existence hadn’t been put up to a vote. Not that I knew whether the guardians exercised real democracy … it didn’t seem likely. By the prevalent mood in the nexus, however, it was apparent that Baxia wasn’t going to be the only guardian to close their territory to us and our mission.
“Text me,” Kett said. Then he stepped off into the shadows and around the block before I’d taken another step or opened my mouth.
“Text you what?” I called after him.
The nearest airport to the portal. Kett’s voice sounded suspiciously like a whisper in my mind.
My step faltered. “Did you hear him?” I asked Warner. “About the airport?”
Warner shook his head.
Damn it. Telepathy?
“A side effect, perhaps,” Warner said.
“It’ll wear off?”
“Hopefully.”
I sighed. I liked Kett well enough, but I didn’t want anyone in my head. Pulou could communicate with me like that, but only when we were both standing in the magic of the portals. And for some reason, it wasn’t so disturbing then.
I’d started walking again, but hesitated when another thought occurred to me. “You don’t think he …” I glanced back over my shoulder toward the warehouse and the amplifier’s offices, realizing midway into the question that I didn’t want to vocalize less-than-fantastic thoughts about a friend. And especially not to Warner, who was genetically inclined to be prejudiced toward vampires.
“I think,” Warner said, placing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me up the sidewalk past a closed pizza place, “that Kettil, the Executioner of the Conclave, collects more than he kills.”
I tried to not squirm uncomfortably at Warner’s vocalization of my thoughts.
“He’s different,” I said.
“And you feel responsible for that difference.” Warner tapped his left thigh where he wore the sacrificial knife when he was dressed in his dragon leathers. The knife was still there, of course. The clothing was simply an aspect of Warner’s chameleon magic.
“Sometimes I think he’d prefer to be dead,” I whispered. “True dead, full dead.”
“The vampire values his immortality. But perhaps he also chafes at its restrictions.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Two more blocks and two more left-hand turns, and we’d somehow arrived back at Haoxin’s steel-and-glass apartment building. Standing at its base, it felt like the skyscraper was towering over the city, though only because it sat two blocks from the water’s edge. The streets were quiet here but not completely empty.
A cool breeze made me shiver, though it didn’t stir my still-sticky-with-dissolved-foam hair. Warner brushed a kiss across my lips without warning.
“We’ll find the map,” he murmured.
I reached for him, for the strength of his arms, wrapping my fingers around his biceps as far as they’d go. I took a moment to breathe in the smooth, creamy-chocolate-and-sweet-cherry magic that he held so tightly coiled around him.
“We don’t know she’s in Peru,” I said. “Or that she can even read the map.”
“If she is who she claims to be, then she’s the daughter of the former treasure keeper and can most likely unlock the map. If not, then whoever she is, she seeks an object of power and for you to unlock her magic. She’ll follow us to Peru.”
“What does ‘to break with the guardians’ mean, exactly?”
“If, as she appears to be, Shailaja is in league with the shadow
leeches, then I would conclude that she believes in immortality.”
“But dragons aren’t immortal. Only long-lived and difficult to kill.”
Warner shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, glancing around the street. “Is the vampire near?”
“Classified dragon secrets?” I asked, teasing but still somewhat serious.
Warner huffed out a laugh. Behind him, through the glassed entrance of the apartment building, a tired-looking businessman stepped out of the elevator with his pure white English bulldog. The dog made a beeline for the front doors, tugging his master after him.
Instead of reaching out for a taste of Kett’s magic to answer Warner’s question as to the vampire’s proximity, I took the sentinel’s hand and pulled him into the building before the door closed behind the man and his dog, who were now wandering up the sidewalk.
∞
If we hadn’t opened the shades earlier, the apartment would be pitch black, but the glow from the city below and around us lit the room just enough to distinguish the furniture. And Warner, of course. He was kind of hard to miss as he stepped into the living room. Not that I’d had a chance to test that in the dark yet.
Warner sighed and ran his hand through his hair, leaving it a mess. Something about the gesture made me pause. So much of him was cobbled together from the people he’d first come into contact with when he woke from stasis … my accent, Kandy’s ideas of clothing, Pulou’s raised eyebrow. But right now, all I could see was Warner … watching me as I watched him.
I wanted him to close the space between us, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t. I had a feeling that the level of intimacy I wanted, that I craved, was unusual for his time period. Not that he’d been a monk, but I think everything private took place behind closed doors in the last life he’d lived.
He certainly didn’t kiss like a monk.
And the door was most definitely shut and locked right now.
I closed the space between us. Slowly, deliberately. A smile spread across his face, and he leaned back against the couch and stretched out his legs. I would have to walk between them to get as close as I planned to be.
Yeah, he definitely wasn’t a monk.
Maps, Artifacts, and Other Arcane Magic (Dowser Series Book 5) Page 13