by Avery Gale
Taking in the room she’d stepped into, Kit found herself temporarily frozen in her tracks. It was as if she’d been transported back a couple of centuries, her mind playing through scenes as if she’d seen them herself. The experience was unnerving, almost like watching a series of movies clips being projected in her mind. And in each of those clips, the room looked exactly as it did now, the only thing that changed was the faces of those around her.
The floors were polished white crystal that seemed to be drawing energy from the very air and shimmering with the effects. The horseshoe shaped table was exactly as she’d always pictured the round table of Camelot, save the opening for visitors to stand close without feeling as though they were actually a part of the Supreme Council’s elite membership. The table sat on risers befitting the status of those seated around it, but in Kit’s mind it was more about intimidation than respect. The witches and wizards who made up the Council were supposed to be elected based on skill, experience, life experiences, and the desire to serve the ranks from which they’d risen. But even as a young girl, Kit had noted that it seemed that by the time they’d made their way into such a position of power, they’d forgotten what it was like to be young and learning. She’d struggled to understand why she should revere the opinions of those who’d never once lived in the world as it is today. Many of the people seated in front of her hadn’t lived in the real world in more than a century—how could they possibly understand the questions and challenges those under them were facing?
The room was lined with deep blue draperies with gold brocade that shimmered as it reflected the golden light from the wall sconces. The air was filled with a rich and woodsy incense that brought to mind the circles of light covens had been practicing in forests since the dawn of time. The entire room almost pulsed with the heartbeats of those who had proceeded her and Kit let the feelings wash over her, losing herself in the rich history. For the first time in her life, Kit was truly grateful for the gift of her magical heritage and she wanted to soak up every bit of the feeling she could before she was forced to face those who were watching her with amused interest.
When she saw Cecil’s smile, Kit knew each member of the Council had been listening intently as her mind had wandered about untethered. Even though he’d been the one to catch her eye, he wasn’t the first to speak. “Don’t worry, it happens all the time. This whole set-up is pretty intimidating—intentionally for those who are here for certain reasons.” The older man on her right spoke with just enough Irish brogue to make Kit smile, she’d always loved the way the people from the Emerald Isle spoke. “Aye, I grew up not far from the cottage your friend, Braden, described. I’ve always felt a particular interest in the young man, perhaps that’s the reason. But, that isn’t the reason you are here, is it?”
Kit nodded, hoping the gesture conveyed her respect as well as her agreement. “No it isn’t. But thank you for your patience while I tried to take everything in. And you’re right, it is intimidating, but it’s also magnificent.” She paused, letting her gaze taken in each of the witches and wizards sitting in front of her, “I’ve come to ask permission to use every resource available to me to bring Angie Wolf-Michaels home safely.” Kit didn’t see any reason to waste the Council’s time, plus she was more than anxious to find Angie and return her to her mates.
Several of the Council members raised their brows, but Cecil was the one who spoke, “Kit, perhaps you need to clarify any means necessary since all of us are aware that you’re still training.”
“Yes, and the temptation to step over the line is even more powerful when you are new.” The wizard who had spoken the words smiled, but his eyes were filled with concern.
“And you have an emotional stake in this if I’m not mistaken.” Kit nodded at the witch who had made the comment. The woman was stunning, Kit had no idea how old the woman was, but she hoped she would age as beautifully as the witch who was now blushing a lovely pink. “Thank you, my dear. I assure you beauty is a double edged sword as I’m sure you already know.” Kit smiled in return and nodded, because she did indeed know what it was like to be judged on her appearance and not her mind.
Kit couldn’t argue with anything they’d said. Each Council member who had spoken had raised legitimate concerns—her only hope was to assure them she had a strong enough sense of right and wrong to avoid the pitfalls she knew others had fallen prey to. “You are all right. Each of you. But I assure you I’m not easily swayed and my sense of right and wrong was firmly in place long my training started. I’m not willing to sell my soul to Damian. We all know he is seeking an alliance, not to possess me. He needs both Braden and I in order to gain the type of power he seeks. Damian is not a fool, he knows I’m more powerful than he is—I’ve already proven that.”
Cecil leaned back in his chair twirling a fountain pen so quickly between his slender fingers Kit worried ink was going to start flying everywhere. He studied her for so long, she had to fight the urge to fidget. He finally leaned forward and asked, “Are you willing to take Ruby with you? Absent that, we’d have to find another mentor and that would take time. And I’m worried for the young shifter’s safety already. She’s an amazing physician and there are great things in her future—she’s destined to make remarkable contributions to the care of children. She and your friend, Libby, are going to be quite famous—well, assuming we get her back quickly.”
“Agreed. These sort of things tend to derail people from the path their souls outlined on the other side.” This comment from the youngest member of the group, a woman who looked so tiny Kit wondered if she was sitting on a booster seat. Her purple robe shimmered like silk and stood out from the more sedate robes the other members wore. When she smiled at Kit, the warmth it inspired was almost a physical reaction. How odd. It felt like she wrapped me in a warm breeze. At that thought, the woman merely nodded. The young witch’s magic left Kit feeling as though she’d been hugged by a long lost friend—it was both comforting and unsettling in its familiarity.
Turning her attention back to Cecil, she noticed his lips quirked in a knowing smile. “Yes, sir. I am more than willing to take my grandmother along, but I want to be the lead on this. I’m not willing to take chances with her safety and I’m worried her reactions aren’t as quick as they once were.”
Most of the members chuckled softly and the man sitting next to Cecil shook his head, “Heed my advice, young woman, and don’t let Ruby hear you say that.”
“Too late, Bart.” Kit was surprised to see her mother and grandmother both standing behind her. When Granny Good Witch turned to Kit she was frowning, “And you, my sweet granddaughter, better watch yourself. I’ll show you slow reactions. Why that’s just plain insulting. We’ll see who is faster, just you wait. I’ll let you lead this, but we’re going to have a serious discussion about you thinking I’m ready for the old witches’ home. As if.”
Well fuck a duck in a big yellow truck, that’s all I need, a pissed off granny.
Her grandmother moved into the center of the circle and Kit watched as the air around her began to shimmer. The sparkling light was the most brilliant combination of colors imaginable, and seeing her grandfather’s image emerge filled Kit’s heart with joy. He turned and winked at her before turning back to the Council. She stepped closer hoping to hear what they were discussing, only to discover they were speaking in Latin. Well, that’s just plain rude. What the hell is that about? Her mother leaned down and spoke softly against her ear, “Drama—well, they are going to claim it is tradition, which is technically true. But if you ask me, you grandfather is providing some insight that may help or hinder you, and he doesn’t want to prejudice you.”
“Want to run that by me again?” Kit had refrained from rolling her eyes at her mother’s obtuse remark, but just barely. Carla Harris was incredibly bright and an extremely powerful witch, but both of those things also made her very difficult to understand at times. Oh, she thought she was being clear and was often completely befuddled
when others didn’t agree.
He mother’s sigh let Kit know she wasn’t impressed with the question, but she explained anyway. “He’s gotten the scoop and he’d filling them in. Damn, my Latin is too rusty for me to keep up and I doubt Mother will share everything she knows. They’ll use this as a test of sorts for you. They believe you are the one mentioned in the prophecy, but they want to be sure. But I don’t want them to sacrifice Angie just to test their theory.”
“What?” The question had come out far louder than she’d intended and when all eyes turned to her, all she could do was shrug and apologize.
“Good Goddess, keep your voice down. You’re already pushing your luck just being here. And you better hope this wraps up quickly because your mate is faunching at the bit outside the door. Anyway, what I was trying to explain is that no one here sees this as the crises you do.” When Kit gasped, her mother let out an exasperated sigh. “It isn’t that they don’t think Angie is important, it’s just that we are fairly certain where she’d being held, the real question is what is it going to take to get her back without losing you in the process—something that is completely off the table by the way.”
Kit wanted to argue, but knew it would just be an exercise in frustration. Her mother was rarely wrong about anything involving the magical community. Carla Harris had always been deeply committed to promoting the status of witches and more often than not she was a mediator when things went to hell between different groups. When Kit looked back to where her grandmother stood, she could see the lines of frustration bracketing her mouth. Ruby Stone wasn’t happy about something and whatever had set her off was clearly a problem for her grandfather as well because even though his image was fading quickly, Kit could see him cross his arms over his chest as he shook his head.
By the time Kit had listened quietly as the Council handed down their decision and she’d walked out of their chambers, she was practically vibrating she was so angry. How could they be so callous about Angie’s safety? Doesn’t her life mean anything to them? It seemed to Kit that they had been far more worried about identifying the traitor who had managed to slip past their security to intern within their hallowed halls more than they were about the life of a young woman they were leaving hanging in the balance. Hell, if she followed all the guidelines they’d given her, she wouldn’t have a prayer of rescuing her friend. Document each step planned in detail and forward written copies to each member prior to acting? If there had ever been a rule made to be broken, it was that one. In Kit’s view the entire trip had been a wash, and the instant they stepped out into the cool night air the rage she’d been holding back burst to the surface. When she stretched her arms out wide lightning snapped from her fingers illuminating the night. Turning her face up to the sky, Kit felt the moonlight burst through the rolling clouds and shine down on her. It was as if the heavens had decided to endorse her anger by shining nature’s spotlight on her from above. She shouted, “Devin, I am coming for you. Save yourself and return Angie to her home or turn her over to me.”
Kit hadn’t really expected him to hear her. Her plea to the dark sky had been more about venting than actually trying to contact Damian’s brother. But one of the things they’d discovered about her magic was that it was amplified by anger and fear. No one knew exactly how or why—but there wasn’t any doubt that was the case. Her granny stood aside watching as Kit tried to pull the calm of nature to herself, but the only thing that had helped was Trev’s touch. Since shifters were earthbound creatures, both Trev and Jameson acted as lightning rods for Kit. When she was overwhelmed by the energy that rolled over her when her emotions took over, their touch was often enough to dispel the worst of the excess.
During a discussion while traveling to meet with the Council, Ruby had explained, that in fact, it was Kit’s inability to moderate the energy she attracted that was one of the Council’s chief concerns. They feared she could easily fall prey to the lure of dark magic partly because of it would appear that she was more in control, at least in the beginning. Kit had felt it was an unjust argument because strong emotions would fuel reactions in anyone. But her granny had disagreed, shaking her head and explaining, “That’s just it, Kit, power must equate to responsibility and control at all times, or its use is always going to be questioned.” Kit hadn’t fully understood the truth of that statement until this moment, but even then she didn’t have long to consider all the implications because Devin’s voice filled her mind.
‘The queen’s blood runs true in your veins, meet me tomorrow where she lies cold and still. Bring Braden but no one else or your sharp-tongued friend loses what little favor still remains. Tomorrow. Sunset.’
Chapter Four
Trevlon Wolf paced the length of the luxury suite, cell phone in hand listening to his brother list all the reasons their mate should not be allowed to meet with Devin alone. Jameson hadn’t mentioned one assertion Trev hadn’t already used in his numerous discussions with Kit—and not one of the very persuasive arguments had met with even a sliver of success. But right now Trev’s problem was calming his brother down enough to actually find a workable solution to the problem. Honestly, sometimes I’m not sure which of us is the most stubborn. “I heard that, and it’s our mate. I’m right, so it’s simply tenacity. Kit is wrong, so she is being stubborn.”
“Yeah, well thanks for clearing that up, but playing semantics games isn’t going to solve this problem, now is it?” Fuck it, nothing he’d said had seemed to make any difference to her. Trev knew his brother could use his compelling voice to demand her compliance, but neither of them relished that idea. There were a lot of reasons they were both reluctant to go to that extreme, it was a perk of being the pack Alpha that Jameson used rarely. Once a command was spoken with the compelling voice, there was absolutely no question—it would be followed, but the recipient often resented their free will being bypassed, and both Jameson and Trevlon understood the inherent problems that caused.
He could hear his twin’s sigh of frustration and knew from experience Jameson was running his free hand through his dark hair. They were not only identical twins, but also virtually mirror images of one another, and more often than not, they felt one another’s emotions. They had always looked so much alike there were actually only a couple of people who had never mistaken them one for the other. Kit hadn’t understood how anyone could confuse them—and that meant more to both he and Jameson than it probably should.
“I don’t want to compel her. She’ll resent it and I’m not sure I’d blame her. The message we’d be sending to not only our mate, but to our entire pack, would be that we don’t trust her to do what we know she is here to do. Damn, this is exactly the sort of thing that defines her destiny. How can we deny her this?” Jameson’s voice was heavy with regret and worry, and Trev fully understood Jameson’s dilemma. Even though they were both considered pack Alphas, as the first-born, Jameson was the more senior leader and he always tried to shoulder the worst of the burden alone.
As they ended the call, Trev turned to see Kit standing in the doorway, her eyes shining with unshed tears. He held his arms open and she stepped quickly into his embrace. “Talk to me, baby.”
“It’s you…well, both of you. Your faith in me fills my heart with gratitude. I know that it’s killing you to let me do this—but you’re not going to stop me because it’s what I need to do. I know I haven’t known Angie as long as you have and we are not blood relatives. But she is still my family in all the ways that matter—and she needs my help.” Trev was humbled by his sweet mate’s words, even though he was worried she was giving he and Jameson far too much credit. Rather than saying anything that might cause her further upset, he simply held her. She certainly didn’t need any added distraction before leaving to meet Devin.
Kit and Braden rode in silence to the open field where Aradia was said to have been buried. There was no marker per the Queen of Witches request, she’d known her gravesite would become a contentious memorial and she’d
been adamantly opposed to that idea. Fearing future persecution of those who would follow, the wise witch had demanded the exact location of her grave never be revealed. From everything Kit had read about the woman considered the Queen of Witches, she’d been a firm believer in living for the future rather than in the past. Every witch’s Book of Shadows contained bits of wisdom attributed to Aradia that had been passed down generation to generation for countless centuries. Kit’s favorite was the reminder to never be humbled so much that you stumbled over our own past.
As they exited the small rental car, Braden looked over at her and winked, “Remember, individually we are good, but together we are superheroes. And Granny Good Witch promised me a cape when we get Angie back.” When she cast him a sidelong glance, he chuckled, “What? I know I can’t fly with a cape, but it will be fun to mess with the kids back at the estate.” She shook her head, in so many ways he was an adult, but there were still moments when the childhood he’d missed bubbled to the surface. Everyone at the estate relished those moments because to their minds it meant he was healing and maturing into the powerful wizard he was destined to become.
Braden’s childhood had been cut far too short because he’d been the focus of Damian’s obsession from the time the dark wizard learned the child was his grandson. Braden’s father had run away with him after the young boy’s mother was killed. For years, father and son had barely managed to stay one-step ahead of the man obsessed with the young boy, but their luck had finally run out and Braden lost his father, too.
As the sun started to sink beneath the horizon, a brilliant ball of orange light shimmered several feet in front of where Kit and Braden stood waiting. For several seconds the light simply hovered and spun slowly around and Kit wondered if it was ensuring they’d come alone. When Devin finally emerged as an ill-defined mist, he scanned the area before focusing on the two of them. Just as Kit opened her mouth to demand he give them proof Angie was still alive, she appeared next to him.