“What it does?” He turned me to face him. “Since when does your closet do anything?”
“The Morrigan gave me a present, and I didn’t know what it was until she had done it.” I stuck a hand down the front of my T-shirt and pulled out the battered silver pendant marked with a triskele.
Each marshal since the start of the program was gifted a medallion that would summon the Morrigan to accept tithes. Though I wasn’t sure what it entailed for other marshals, for me it meant when a case went bad and I exercised my right to use lethal force, the Morrigan collected the body once I had consumed the soul. Meat and bones were paid as a tithe to her in thanks for erasing our messes.
After Balamohan, I was second-guessing what she gained from helping the conclave conceal the existence of fae from humanity. A free meal, yeah, but there had to be more to it. Obviously, she had no issues revealing fae to the human race seeing as how she planned to come out of the closet—no pun intended—in a genocidal way.
Death magics were complex. Far more complex than I had realized, which was worrisome given that was the root of my power. The more I learned and the more Mac taught me, the more worried I got.
When a fae or half-blood died, where did their magic go? Did it vanish in a puff of smoke? Was it absorbed into the ground or air and made clean by the earth? Or was it, as I was coming to believe, locked in the tissues of the fae themselves? Meaning each meal was a power snack in a literal sense.
The worst scenario imaginable was the magics stayed in the body and the Morrigan gained strength each time she ate fae flesh. Given its world-ending consequences, I was betting that was the case.
“You know how these handy-dandy pendants used to summon the Morrigan? For tithe collection and all that?” I rolled my hand. “You know, before she went totally bonkers and took over Faerie?”
“Yes,” he said slowly. “I think I can remember as far back as three days ago.”
“Okay, well, mine also acts as an anchor for a portal.” I pointed toward the closet. “To there.”
Muscle leapt in his jaw. “Portals are illegal.”
Shame wormed through my gut. “I know.”
He drew us back several steps from the door. “Do the magistrates know about it?”
“No.” My shoulders slumped. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
Admitting moral weakness to Shaw hurt. It meant offering proof of my corruption by not giving up the pendant in the first place. I’d intended to collect the contents and turn the whole mess over to the magistrates. But I hadn’t. Something kept me holding on to the pendant, the secret, even after I was rescued and sent home to recover. For the first time in my life, I had Mac’s wealth of knowledge at my fingertips, and I hadn’t said a word to him or to Shaw or to Mai or to Mable. Not a single peep.
Studying the pulsating glow, Shaw advanced. “What are you keeping in there?”
“My skins.” I closed my hand over the pendant, my thumb sliding through the familiar groove in its center. “I needed a safe place to keep them after Faerie, and she knew that. I guess Rook mentioned it. Then I called her for pickup, and she did something to my necklace. She had already been here, anchored the portal in the closet and I just… I’m an idiot.”
“This is serious.” A snarl entered his voice. “This is an anchor of power for the Morrigan in the heart of the marshal’s building, right below the magistrates’ office. This is dangerous for us—and for them. Did you consider you might not be the only one with access to it? To what you store inside of it? Or that the portal might not end here?”
The blood rushed from my face, and I swayed on my feet. “We have to tell them.”
Red light strobed under the door and exploded through the wood in an electric blast.
Thrown against the wall, I collided head first with the baseboards, and the room went dark.
Chapter 6
Slashing pain woke me as fire burned my palm. Steel fingers clamped my wrist, and my left arm popped, yanked out of its socket. I gasped through the hurt, forcing my heavy eyes open on chaos.
The closet door was gone. Inside what used to be a three-foot-square area, magic churned in red waves like a choppy sea after a storm. Shadows moved through the smoky light. Sharp teeth. Claws.
My knee slammed into a bookshelf, and I yelped. The constant pressure on my arm lessened.
A slim line of blood trickled down my right arm. Mine?
“It is alive.” A grunt sounded unhappy about that. “The Morrigan wants a word with it.”
I tilted my head back. A bulky troll was dragging me across the floor toward the closet—toward a freaking portal straight into Hell for all I knew. Movement to my right made me squint. Wide gold eyes blinked at me from between two filing cabinets. Mai. Thank God. Oh no. Shaw. Where was…?
Two more trolls hunched over a mass in the corner. Boots. It wore black boots. No, no, no.
“It will break,” one murmured.
“It might,” the other agreed. “It’s tough. Not good eats.”
A sour taste rose up the back of my throat. I swallowed it down and forced myself to soak in the damage caused by a portal mouth opening inside the closet and transporting a troll mini strike force.
All my fault. This is all me. I can’t blame my magic this time. This is all my doing.
“The other thing,” the one holding my arm said. “Find it. Furry thing. Might make good eats.”
The other two grunted agreement.
Mai. They were discussing her as a menu item. She must have been scared furry after the blast.
How long had I been out? Not that long if they hadn’t caught her yet. Hadn’t dragged me through the portal. Long enough for Shaw to get hurt. He must have fought them. Stupid, stupid, brave incubus protecting his idiot mate from herself. If he was… I would kill them. All of them.
My magic, always balanced on the sharp edge of hunger, driven to the brink of starvation by my exercises in control, shot from my left palm, through my glove, a powerful blast that bowed my spine.
The troll holding on to me bellowed in agony. No stopping it. No saving him. He was toast.
Magic slid underneath his skin, scalpel-sharp, cleaving flesh from muscle. Sliding deeper, into his chest, through his heart, a fist of magic grabbed the organ and squeezed it to pulp. Reaching wider, the fingers of power stabbed into the nugget of soul and ripped it free, devouring his essence before I gained control of myself. His body crumpled, landing in a heap beside my head. His skin landed in a fragile sheet half on top of me. When I breathed in, I inhaled flakes of skin and burnt hair.
“What did it do?” one of the corner trolls yelled. “What did it do?”
“It killed him,” the other barked. “It killed him with a touch of its hand. I saw it.”
“I’ll kill it with my hand.” The first troll made a fist. “See how it likes that.”
“It’s going to die,” the second troll sneered.
Pushing upright, I twisted into lotus position. That was as far as I made it before they charged.
The second troll palmed my entire head. I clamped a hand on to his thick wrist and used the fresh energy coursing through me to rip his soul through his chest with magic fingers. More in control this time, I reeled my power in like a lasso and flung it at the third troll as he landed a kick to my side. Gripping his ankle, I shoved more energy into him. His essence leaked from his heel to puddle underneath me like black sludge.
When I released him, his body, balanced on one foot, teetered, hitting the floor and bouncing. The second troll loomed over me, dead fingers spearing my hair, until impact jostled him and he toppled, landing on top of the third one with a thud. Both were hard as the stone they became in daylight.
Jaws stretched in primal screams. Eyes peeled open wide and blank. Their last breaths reeked of terror.
Left hand raised high like a beacon, spilling light into the room, I scanned for more trolls.
“Mai,” I called. She bounded to me, fur standing on end, th
ick tail swishing. “Where is Mac?”
She pointed her nose toward the ceiling.
“He’s still in the magistrates’ office? Are they hurt or—?”
The fox leapt from my lap, hunkered down on the floor and covered her ears with her paws.
“They’re hiding?”
A growl.
I took that as a negative. “They can’t hear us?”
A yip.
As I stood, it hit me. “They activated a privacy spell so they wouldn’t be disturbed.”
Mai nodded, the gesture looking too human on a fox.
Leaving her where she sat, I crossed to Shaw and fell to my knees at his side. “Oh, Jackson.”
He groaned at the sound of his name and turned his head toward me. His face was ruined. Blood covered him from scalp to collarbone, and when he parted his lips, I counted missing teeth. Potent anger ignited in my gut. All that remained of my glove was a charred scrap of fabric that I tore away.
Clasping hands with him, I trusted Mai to watch my back while I gently pushed a portion of the energy I had consumed into him. Healing worked best with several slow transfusions of magic. That was a luxury we didn’t have, but I couldn’t pump him full of juice. Not when he had been eating light for days. Instead I fed him a trickle until some of the swelling left his cheeks and the skin crept over exposed bone, reknitting the split halves of his face together. Lids regenerated over his eyes, which cracked open a fraction to stare up at me.
“I need to get my father,” I said softly. “I’m going to leave Mai here with you.”
Slight pressure on my fingers told me he heard and understood.
Shoving to my feet, I whirled on Mai. “Bark if anything moves. I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
I took the stairs three at a time, reached the door of the magistrates’ office and pounded on the gleaming silver wood panels with my fists. “Hey,” I called. “Open up. There’s a situation out here.”
No one answered. No one flung open the doors. No one ran to my rescue.
A sick, sick feeling curdled my stomach.
How long had I been out? What else had strolled through the portal? Where was my father? Had the magistrates been captured? Killed? Mable. Oh, God. What if she had been hurt? What if Mom…
No. Shut down the fear. Twenty questions had to wait. This wasn’t a drill. This was real.
Faerie had brought the war here. And I had helped.
Exhaling slowly between my lips, I shoved the memory of Shaw’s battered face out of my mind and grasped the fraying sense of calm Mac had struggled to teach me. From there I summoned magic into my runes and flattened my palm against the door. Through that link, I sensed a heavy enchantment as thick as cotton batting shrouding the room. I couldn’t hear a peep through it, and I bet they couldn’t either. Great. On the upside, this meant the threshold remained unbroken. That was a good sign.
If the fighting downstairs hadn’t punctured the spell, how was I going to manage the job?
My bag of supplies was in my office, probably, unless the trolls had taken it. But this was out of my league. I didn’t have Shaw’s experience or knack for cracking enchantments. Dragging him here for this wasn’t an option. Not unless I spent more time healing him first. By then it might be too late.
Sizzling noises drew my gaze to where red liquid popped and bubbled on the floor.
A thin cut severed my palm, and blood dripped from my hand. Weird. Had I been bleeding all this time? I flexed my fingers, waiting for the wound to knit closed, but it didn’t. It kept weeping in a slow but steady drip. Kneeling by the hissing blood splotches, I wiped my finger through them, and a pulse of magic raced up my arm. Again I called magic into my hand, hotter and faster this time. I let it build, pressed my runes and the sore against the door simultaneously, and a pop unblocked my ears.
I smacked the wood with my open hands. “Can anyone hear me? Hello?”
Inside, I heard the legs of a chair scooting backward. Footsteps. A click as the knob turned.
I don’t know what Evander saw in me right then, but he shouted quick orders in his native tongue, and the others leapt to their feet. Even Kerwin, the Unseelie magistrate, and not my biggest fan showed concern. Each dipped a hand into the air and withdrew their weapons from the pockets of ether where they stored them, and as one they all turned their eyes toward Mac.
Emerald light burst in his hand, darkening until a viscous black magic swirled around his feet.
He lifted his head, and his nostrils flared. “Trolls.”
“I killed three of them,” I said, voice trembling, “but Shaw’s hurt.”
Mac’s gaze swept over me and left me cold and miserable. “Take us to him.”
I sprinted down to my office, Mac hot on my heels, squinting against the strobing light painting the hallway red. The portal was growing. I swept inside my office and pulled up short.
Shaw was gone.
No body. No blood. No tracks. No scent.
Vanished without a trace.
“He was right there.” The sharp edge of panic cut into my voice. “Mai?”
Small as she was in fox form, she might have hidden. She might have…
I jumped when a hand buzzing with power landed on my shoulder. Heart pounding, I jerked away from the touch, gulping hard at Mac’s grim expression. The icy coldness in his green-black aura clung to my chilled skin. He stalked toward me and snarled in my face. “What happened?”
I eased back a step. “Shaw—”
He dug his fingers into my upper arms. “This is bigger than Shaw.”
“He’s hurt.” Panic narrowed my focus to a fine point. “He was right there. Where is he?”
Green eyes blazing, Mac homed in on the pendant I hadn’t tucked back into my shirt, and his lip curled. “Why do you still wear that?” He uttered a feral growl. “Remove it and give it to me.”
My hand closed over the skin-warmed pendant. I meant to lift it over my head, I did, but my elbow locked. I stood there clutching the Morrigan’s coin, frantic for Shaw and desperate to find Mai, my pulse sprinting like my life depended on this moment, frozen in the face of Macsen’s anger.
A strange expression settled over his features, and his fury dissolved. “It’s a compulsion.”
“No, it’s not.” I tossed my head until my brain rattled. “I would know if it was.”
“Give me the necklace,” he demanded.
Fingers cinched, I extended the hand holding the pendant toward him, but I couldn’t loosen them, couldn’t take off the necklace, couldn’t remember if it tied or clasped or what. The idea of removing it was insane. What would I do without its comforting weight around my neck? Where would I keep my skins? My skins. My gaze broke from Mac and skittered to the closet and its whirling red vortex.
All my skins.
Lost.
The puca. The hound. The selkie.
All gone.
Confused tears welled in my eyes.
“It will be all right,” Mac said gently.
Faster than my eyes could track, he fisted the chain and jerked. It snapped at my nape with a bite of pain. His arm completed its downward arc, yanking me forward when my hand refused to unclasp and let him take the coin from me. His hand clamped over mine, and he pried loose my fingers one by one.
Once he alone held the coin, a flare of magic burst from his palm and engulfed his clothing. Red magic lashed him like a tongue of unquenchable flames while a piercing cry made the room tremble.
Throat burning, I understood the scream came from me. I curled onto my side on the floor and rocked back and forth, stomach roiling, skin too tight, feeling wrong, like a T-shirt turned inside out.
Face lined with concentration, Mac rubbed his hands together until ash rained from his fingertips.
The chain, the pendant, all of it, reduced to silver-black dust.
With a bone-weary sigh, Mac settled his attention back on me, and an emotion dangerously close to disappointment shrouded his features.
Power thrummed in his voice when he ordered me, “Sleep.”
My eyes rolled back in my head.
Consciousness burst through me like the first gasp of breath after spending too long under water, a shock to my system that jolted me the way a hit of espresso can and jangled my nerves in a sudden fright.
I bolted upright, magic pooling in my palm, and froze when I saw I wasn’t alone.
A man wearing a long black cloak stood with his back facing me as he studied an odd collection of archaic implements pinned onto a velvet backing on the table in front of him. A quick downward glance confirmed my worst fears. I sat on another such table, velvet crushed under my sweaty palms.
My frantic mind supplied me with the mental image of me pinned to the cloth like a butterfly, as part of this freak’s collection. Memories hammered at my sanity. I had been part of a collection once.
Balamohan laved his sticky-sharp tongue over my skin while he feasted on my death.
I had to clamp my lips shut to choke the dry heaving. “Where am I?”
“It doesn’t matter.” The black-clad figure turned. “We’re leaving.”
“Mac?” He was dressed in black leather armor similar to what I had worn during the Coronation Hunt.
“The outpost in Wink has been warded. The marshal’s office has been blood warded. By me.”
In Wink sounded like we weren’t there anymore, but we had to be, right?
The bitter sweat from an adrenaline dump soaked through my shirt. A burst of ripe panic pushed me to my feet. Jittery as a spider on caffeine, I was all twitchy legs and a frantic heart.
“Where is Shaw?” Fear dried my tongue. “I have to finish healing him.”
Mac rapped his knuckles on the wall in front of him, and a door swung open behind me.
I turned in time to watch Mai enter wearing baggy sweatpants rolled up at the ankles, socks and a T-shirt she could have worn as a dress with the right belt. Her hair was damp and her face bruised.
My throat squeezed tight. “Mai…”
She stopped several feet away from me and asked Mac, “Is she clean?”
Clean? I recoiled from her harsh tone, the cold phrasing.
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