Every Witch Demon but Mine (Maeren Series Book 1)

by Mercedes Jade

  There is No Good Cop

  Elizabeth’s weeks of preparation had been to face fire-breathing demons and poisonous earth assassins. She had trained to blend into the court, so she could spy on its wicked intrigues and root out the mastermind sending vampires and demons out drinking on her turf.

  Her mother had been all business when it came down to honing Elizabeth's skills to the sharp edge needed to cut out the evil heart of her old court.

  Even Jill had been pushed to be ready to fight if needed.

  Going to a ball should have been the first hint that other skills were going to be necessary to hunt down and take out their targets.

  Picking flowers because they were pretty was possibly the lamest thing Jill had ever been delegated.

  Elizabeth's relief at not having to waste time picking flowers with her sister was short-lived. She went to check out the library, but it was nothing like her mother had described.

  A lot must have changed in a couple of decades.

  The library had an air of neglect. There was a musty scent that clung to the stone steps leading up to the double-door entrance. It didn't bode well for carefully preserved books to be within.

  A chill emanated from the cavernous room as Elizabeth first tried air to pull the doors open, then using both hands, tugged with her body’s weight. They slowly opened only a crack.

  Her depleted air hadn't a chance against the solid oak of the doors.

  She switched both hands to one door to get it open enough for her to squeeze in. This would be embarrassing if anyone was watching.

  Even deep in Maeren, she needed at least a day to replenish her magic when she drained it so fully.

  Choking Daemon with air had been a power suck. She normally didn't run her tank less than half-full back home, wary of a naked vacation to hell.

  Not surprisingly, given the cold, there was no fire lit at the massive stone hearth taking up the east wall. There was wood to fuel it, at least.

  Elizabeth headed there to get a fire started before exploring further.

  Someone had loved this library once.

  The heath’s mantle was a sculpted history of the clan wars, gorgeous detail carved in veined marble that was meant to be displayed and not hidden in a disused room.

  There were worn leather chairs and oak side tables strategically placed for warmth and academic discussion or long hours spent reading by firelight.

  The chill seemed to emanate stronger from inside of the library, possibly from the chimney vents, raising gooseflesh on her arms as she piled logs and kindling in the promise of heat. The matches were dusty but not as damp as the rest of the room, dry cardboard easily striking a spark to light the kindling.

  Smoke and crackling flame battled with the musty room.

  “You really are a wet wick.”

  Elizabeth dropped the kindling she had been feeding to the fire. She instinctively grabbed lightning to locate the speaker’s mind, turning to face the tickle of thoughts behind her.

  She didn't risk opening her mind’s barrier.

  The witch that had spoken was cute—almost adorable—with a dark, pixie haircut framing blue, almond-shaped eyes, a button nose, and bow-shaped, ruby lips. The stark, black robes and sheathed daggers encasing her petite frame edged the cute into dangerous, like a honey badger.

  She strode across the library to Elizabeth from the west side stacks, a strange mist or fog trailing from behind her.

  “Ninja elf?” asked Elizabeth, annoyed more than frightened.

  The witch didn’t know about her lightning if she thought Elizabeth could only light a fire without magic.

  It would have been nice to throw a little air at that confident stride, but there hadn’t been any threat made yet.

  Elizabeth had to stay focused on the second mind, tickling against her barrier, still hidden in the stacks and fog.

  “Coming from a flower fairy, I’m not even sure I can be offended.” The witch eyed Elizabeth’s daffodil dress. “Please tell me that does not come in rose and violet as well.”

  “I have shoes dyed to match. They used a sample of my hair.”

  She watched as the witch collapsed onto a leather side chair and giggled. It was contagious but she refused to laugh with her.

  “You ate breakfast with Daemon, dressed like a bridesmaid.”

  The witch laughed some more.

  It didn't slip past Elizabeth that the mystery witch was on a first-name basis with the demon prince. Her danger rating skyrocketed.

  Misty fog and the second mind crept along the stacks, ever closer to them.

  Elizabeth turned and grabbed a lit stick from the fireplace. She nodded at the other witch, for her to hide safely behind Elizabeth, after a moment’s hesitation.

  The witch looked like she could defend herself. Elizabeth wasn’t sure how she felt about a stranger at her back, but at least the witch hadn’t snuck up on her, announcing her presence earlier.

  The hidden danger was the one she had to focus on first.

  The witch ignored her unspoken command to get behind her and laughed once more, settling further into her leather chair.

  “Vic, seriously, dramatic entrance much?”

  Another elf slid into view, mist parting around his form. He was taller as he approached, the mist, poor lighting, and his uncanny resemblance to elf one deceiving her into thinking he was smaller.

  There was a leanness to his body, like William’s, but more compact. His whipcord strength was visible under his closely fitted black jacket and trousers that resembled those of the strange witch. They obviously were together and related.

  He broadcast his strength with efficient movements, a few large strides that quickly took him to his sister’s side.

  The siblings both stared at her.

  “Prince Victor?” guessed Elizabeth. It had to be him.

  She wasn’t quite ready to throw her burning stick back into the fire. Part of that was wishing the floor would just swallow her up before he answered.

  If this was Victor, then she had threatened the youngest prince and princess in their own library.

  Fantastic.

  She was making all sorts of friends.

  “Just call him Vic,” the sister said. Her casual address pretty much confirmed their identities.

  Victor neither refuted nor agreed with her suggestion. He wasn’t wearing a royal ring. Neither was his sister.

  “And Princess Victoria?” Elizabeth asked.

  She didn’t need to wait for the answer to know this was the king’s only daughter.

  She threw the stick back in the fire.

  Attacking the youngest prince and princess was bound to result in very bad things. They would laugh their asses off if she used a stick of fire for that purpose, given it was one of their born powers.

  The mist was thinning out now, and the room, finally getting some heat from the fire.

  This was her first time around water. She was dying to slip into their minds and feel how they’d created the mist, but there was no way she could risk it.

  “Not ‘princess.’ ‘Ninja elf’ is okay,” Victoria corrected her. She laughed again, keeping the advice lighthearted. “Just don’t call me Vic.”

  Victor didn’t sit.

  Elizabeth realized it was probably because she was still standing.

  “How about Victoria?” Elizabeth suggested, taking the seat across from her.

  Victoria shrugged indifferently.

  Victor still didn’t say anything. He did sit down.

  “You can call me Liz,” Elizabeth told them both.

  “Not flower?” mocked Victor.

  She gave him a sharp, surprised glance. That had been the kind of teasing she would have expected from Jill. Perhaps this prince wasn’t the silently menacing type that he’d first appeared to her.

  “Yes, he can speak,” Victoria said, noting her surprise. “He likes to save it up for effect.”

  The princess rolled her eyes at her brother. �
��So dramatic.”

  They were definitely siblings.

  Of course, this slur about being dramatic was coming from an elf with purple and blue streaks in her side bangs. Victoria’s modern speech and her punk hair confirmed that there were others who slipped through the hidden portals to earth.

  Not everyone was there to bleed a human. Some elemental just wanted to do a little border tourism, given the lack of technology, and dare she say fun, available in Maeren.

  “I came here to escape the garden,” Elizabeth admitted honestly, in case they were checking up on her. “Flowers are more of my sister’s thing.”

  Belladonna was a flower. Foxglove, too.

  The only roses Jill was going to bother with were going to be for luncheon—because their mother would insist.

  Elizabeth bet they would be full of thorns.

  “She’s blonde,” Victor observed.

  What was wrong with her hair?

  His was boring next to Victoria’s multi-coloured pixie. It was shaved, except an inch on top and a couple of extra-long inches for his bangs, just brushing his eyebrows. Not a strand was out of place. The natural deep-brown colour instead of the black she’d expected from his half-Asian appearance was the only thing unusual.

  “Probably bottled,” Victoria remarked.

  If she was referring to Elizabeth’s hair, then she was wrong.

  “Living in an edge town, it must be so easy to peroxide the boring out of your hair. You probably get a mani-pedi regularly, too,” Victoria said with a touch of jealousy.

  She didn't do nail care beyond trimming them as short as possible. She staked vampires and demons for a living.

  Permanent changes like tattoos and hair dye could make the transition between dimensions, magic recognizing changes at the cellular level, but nail polish and other superficial, decorative changes didn't transition.

  “Blonde hair doesn’t do well with dye or swimming pools,” Elizabeth admitted. “Green is a really awful shade outside of Halloween.”

  Victoria smiled at her confession. She seemed to relax more in the chair.

  “Vic can call for some tea and biscuits, or maybe something a little more grown-up if you're game?”

  She knew it was still morning but a little hair of the dog that bit her sounded good.

  Victoria looked like a girl that might have the aspirin she was desperately in need of for her hangover.

  “Ah, I’ll have whatever you’re having,” Elizabeth answered.

  No point looking like a lush. It was bad enough she had to pretend to be powerless.

  Victor bent down to pull a hidden drawer open from the low table between the chairs. He took out a clay teapot and tiny, matching cups.

  The engraving was incredible.

  The clear liquid he poured into the miniature teapot was of the adult variety. A little stand came out next and he sat a fat candle in its centre, lighting it with an easy flick of his wrist. The pot suspended on the stand to heat.

  “Warmed sake,” Victoria explained.

  Oh boy.

  Elizabeth had gotten drunk off of the spiked punch at the tasting ball. Alcohol strong enough to be dispensed in tiny cups was above her pay grade.

  Victoria was nearly her size. She didn’t see how the petite princess could hold her liquor either.

  “You wouldn’t happen to know where I can get some aspirin to go along with that?” asked Elizabeth.

  “Yes,” answered Victoria.

  “Do you prefer human medicine?” asked Victor at the same time.

  Elizabeth wondered if this was going to be some sort of ‘good cop, bad cop’ routine.

  Luckily for her, the twins obviously hadn’t practiced it much.

  “Human medicine doesn’t feel like ripping your brains out of your ears to get rid of a headache,” Elizabeth explained. “Although, the effects are not as lasting as a good healer,” she added to mollify Victor. He looked a bit more traditionalist than his sister.

  Victor poured the sake, having quickly heated it with his fire, no doubt.

  Victoria handed the first cup to her with two hands. One hand held the tiny cup and the second hovered underneath to catch any errant drips.

  As if the princess would waste a drop, her flawless manners displayed to elegantly serve the sake.

  Victoria wasn’t all rough edges.

  “I’ll have a servant deliver you the aspirin,” Victoria promised, raising her own cup to her lips once she was done serving Elizabeth.

  She waited for Elizabeth to do the same before drinking.

  “So, do you read a lot?” she asked them both once they had all taken a sip of the strong liquor.

  There was no way Elizabeth could finish the cup. She put hers down.

  They both shrugged in response to her question, a secret smile on Victor’s lips that was quickly wiped away when she turned to face him.

  “Where are the books on healing teas? My sister has trouble sleeping,” Elizabeth added.

  This distraction worked. Victor blinked and looked around like he just realized they were in a library full of books. Victoria pointed towards the still misty west stacks.

  “Will has the good books on healing in his room but he leaves the doubles over there. It will be the stack that actually looks dusted this century,” Victoria said.

  Apparently, Victoria read a few more books than her twin. Will must be the third prince, William.

  Earth users were as familiar with healing as they were poison, their magic able to manipulate matter, lending it naturally to medicine.

  Shifting rocks got old fast.

  No surprise, the third prince kept the best healing books in his room. They would be prized.

  Jill would commit burglary if she knew.

  Elizabeth got up before the twins could offer her more sake or anything else to stop her. She walked around the side tables to go to the books Victoria pointed out, willing to grab the first book she saw on teas.

  ‘Good cop, bad cop’ was only warming up. She needed to escape while still sober.

  Victoria hopped up from her chair. Victor trailed after her. They weren’t going to give up that easily.

  “Did you really stake Daemon?” Victoria asked.

  Crap. She wasn’t going to ever live that mistake down.

  “It was more of a flesh wound,” Elizabeth said, avoiding eye contact.

  “In the back,” Victor commented.

  “An accident,” Elizabeth insisted.

  The predators were circling her, getting ready to cut down her flanks.

  “Nobody has ever staked him before,” Victoria told her. “The last demon that scratched him ended up . . . ash.”

  “It wasn’t a battle, it was an execution,” Victor clarified. “Sixty seconds tops.”

  Daemon’s prowess was well known, as well as his role as the king’s dark enforcer. Whoever ended up ash probably had deserved it. Her mistake was better written off as a stupid drunk girl accident.

  “I was drunk. I tripped. I said sorry,” she responded, emphasizing the apology.

  Who knew the twins were so close to their demon brother?

  They had reached the book stack Victoria pointed out. The other two were on either side of her and not helping to search the books at all. She was worried that they had given up pretending to help.

  She tried scanning the titles for anything remotely related to healing teas.

  “We want your autograph,” Victoria said.

  Elizabeth looked over at her. Was she being serious?

  The princess pulled a dagger out of its sheath, from the various weapons strapped on her, to flip and spin in a dangerous juggle.

  Now, there were weapons. For the millionth time, Elizabeth wanted her stakes.

  She turned to check the brother.

  Victor ignored his sister. He stood there with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face.

  Elizabeth inched closer to Victoria.

  She’d bet that Victor was as fast
as her lightning.

  Quickly, she grabbed a couple of random books from the shelf. They didn't even have to be about tea. As if the twins cared.

  “Well, thanks for the help,” Elizabeth told them, gathering up the heavy tomes.

  They were dustier than they had looked. She let out a pretty big sneeze that she could only half-direct away from Victoria.

  The princess dropped her dagger.

  The books thumped onto the floor.

  Victor caught Victoria’s dagger mid-air with a wave of one hand. He floated it back up to his sister’s deadly grip.

  Elizabeth knew she should make good on her exit, but she had to know how he had done it. She hadn't sensed air.

  “I thought you had water-fire?”

  “They’re special,” Victoria said, handing her the dagger.

  It was a lot heavier than Elizabeth would have expected. She turned it over in her hand and felt something liquid swoosh in the handle.

  “Water core weapons for water users,” Victor explained.

  He pulled a wickedly sharp star from his sleeve and handed that to Elizabeth as well. It was heavy.

  “They are modified weapons for magic,” Victoria said. “Don’t you have arrows or darts?” she asked.

  Elizabeth could cause them a seizure with a thought.

  “Uh, our mother doesn’t allow weapons.”

  She was getting better at lying.

  “You can have my dagger. I have lots,” Victoria offered.

  “I don’t have any water,” Elizabeth reminded her, handing the heavy knife and star to the right sibling.

  She bent down for the books she’d dropped. It would look suspicious if she ran out of here without them.

  “No fire, either,” added Victor. “Why is that?”

  “Well, when a vampire and a witch love each other . . .”

  Duck, weave. She didn’t need a fire prince examining her heritage too closely.

  “He knows about the birds and the bees, Liz,” Victoria told her. “He has three claimed witches in his harem and one is preggos for sure.”

  Elizabeth couldn’t quite hide her shock. The sex wasn’t as surprising as hearing a young vampire claimed three witches. It would take a good deal of power to hold three witches bound to him.

  “You’re a wet wick,” Victoria said, again. “A fire user that’s dormant.”