Isabelle tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t, “You’re such a whore.”
“That would imply money changes hands and I don’t charge. Can I ask who that man is that keeps staring at us? He has magic, though not a lot. There’s something very dark about his aura.”
“That delightful piece of trash is Frankie, Harley’s ex and a pawn for the Conseil Neutres.”
“Is he suffering some kind of brain damage to think he’d be welcome here?”
“I don’t think he gives a damn.”
“Can I make him?” Silvian growled.
“No, no fights, not today. Any fights that’re going to be started will only be tolerated if it’s Harley.”
“Very well, but say the word and it shall be done.”
They placed Lya into the Barthélémy family crypt in the St Louis Cemetery, next to Harley’s father. Abélard was holding one of Harley’s hands and Blue Jay had the other as they watched the heavy door close. People mingled off to find their cars to go back to Mama Lya’s house for the wake. It was Harley’s house now, but she hadn’t been back to it since they had found the body. Abélard opened the door to the black Bentley for Harley, when Francois managed to push past the mourners.
“Harley, I would like to extend to you the condolences of myself and the Conseil Neutres,” he said in a rush. “Especially from me.”
Harley looked coldly at him. Francois was waiting for her to say something. Instead, her right hand shot up to slap him hard across his face twice. He made to step back and found Hamish, and a handgun shoved into the small of his back.
“Don’t even try to move,” he warned. Harley got into the car, slamming the door before it drove away. Isabelle nodded to Hamish and he backed off. Francois was outraged but Isabelle didn’t give a damn.
“Piece of advice to you, boy,” said Hamish as he holstered his gun, “don’t you go anywhere near her again. If you do, I’ll be waiting.”
“I was being respectful,” Francois claimed as he straightened the cuffs of his jacket.
“Do yourself a favour,” Cerise said as she lit her first cigarette of the day, “and fuck off before I make a meal out of you.”
Francois turned on his heel and stormed out of the graveyard before they could ask him impolitely. A deep growl was building inside of Hamish as he watched him go.
“I’ve smelled him before,” he said to Isabelle.
“From Lya’s house?”
“Yes, he was definitely there even if he wasn’t the one that killed her.” Hamish took a step before Isabelle stopped him.
“Not today, Hamish, not now. We need to get to Harley in case they’ve some other nasty surprise to spring on us.”
The house was packed by the time they arrived. Isabelle had suggested catering and she was surprised when Harley said not to bother. Now she saw why. Every table and surface was covered in dishes of food that people had brought. Paper plates and plastic cutlery was set out, the alcohol already flowing freely. The mirrors in the house had been covered with beautiful silk shawls that Isabelle had seen Mama Lya wear on occasion. Fox grabbed Isabelle in the hall and moved her out of the way of women carrying cakes into the kitchen.
“Did you get rid of Frankie?” she asked.
“We scared him off. Hamish said Frankie had been here in the house. He recognised his scent.” Isabelle hesitated and said, “Don’t tell Harley yet.”
“Damn it, I knew they’d try something like this. I should’ve put a knife in Frankie a long time ago. I don’t need to tell Harley. You saw the look she gave him. She knows it was the Conseil Neutres. I’m worried she’ll snap and start a war.” Fox downed the glass of iced whiskey in her hand and Isabelle poured them fresh cups.
“We need to get through today and then we can come up with a plan,” Isabelle said. “Where is Harley?”
“She was with Blue Jay.”
“Blue Jay is over there setting up another table,” Isabelle pointed.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Fox put down the glass and began searching the house.
Silvian was talking to an elegant dame of a woman in in soft French when Fox hurtled into him. “Sorry to interrupt, can I borrow you for a minute?” she said quickly, smiling apologetically to the woman.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, placing a hand on her arm.
“I can’t find her!”
“Find who?”
“Harley! She’s gone,” Fox whispered tersely.
“She couldn’t have disappeared. Come on and I’ll help you look,” he said calmly. They searched the house again and all of the gardens.
“She isn’t out here,” Cerise said as she caught up with them, “and the Porsche is gone.”
“This isn’t happening! Where could she have gone? What if Frankie or someone else snatched her!” Fox shouted.
“You need to calm down. We will get Cerise to keep playing hostess, and if anyone asks about Harley, they can say she’s having a quiet moment somewhere. Fox, how much have you had to drink?”
“Maybe one or two.”
“Get a car and Blue Jay, and head over to Coliseum Street. I’ll go on ahead.”
“How?” Fox demanded.
Silvian sighed. “The quickest way and probably the most provoking.” Overhead, a boom of thunder echoed in the distance.
Harley had five minutes before her absence would be noticed. The anger overrode her fear as she sped through the streets and drifted to a halt in front of the dreaded Queen Anne. She hadn’t told the others that Mama Lya had transferred her power to Harley before she died. Only Abélard knew, because he had smudged away the veve symbol in Mama Lya’s blood before the cops could arrive. Harley got out of the car and stared at the house.
“Miss Harley, I was hoping you’d find your way back to us again.” Pierre appeared, walking through the gardens in a seersucker suit. “If you apologise and mean it, I will be lenient.”
“I know you killed her,” Harley said through gritted teeth, her hands clenched into fists. “Why? For what possible reason? For coming here and begging you to do your job and protect the city?”
“I can see your grief has clearly overridden your reason, poor child…”
“Why don’t you tell me the truth for once?” Harley’s words shimmered in the air and she saw, as if a lens had fallen over her eyes, the wards and illusions that were wrapped around the house like a peach coloured bubble.
The dark magic users and other members of the Council were filing out of the house. “I see you all! Why not drop the act?” spat Harley and threw her hand out. A soundless scream roared through her mind and the peach bubble popped. A gale of wind battered them and rain began to fall in stinging droplets. Harley felt the group on the lawn take a collective magical breath and she knew they were about to squash her like a bug.
“You can all go to hell!” she shouted over the thunder, held up her hand and hoped. Power went screaming through her, knocking some of the witches over. Something landed beside her and pushed her out of the way, as they counterattacked. Silvian laughed and whatever terrible curses they had sent Harley’s way, bounced off his naked body. Pierre was furious, “Who the devil are you?”
“I’m Harley’s bodyguard,” Silvian replied, “and here is my cavalry.” A truck pulled up, and Blue Jay and Fox jumped out.
“Harley!” Blue Jay was beside her in a moment, lifting her up.
“They killed her!” she sobbed as Blue Jay pulled her towards the car.
“Get her the fuck out of here,” Fox said as she helped shove her in and slam the door shut.
Pierre was looking Silvian up and down, “What are you?”
“I’m different and if you don’t stop staring at me, I’m going to ask you to start paying.”
“Oh, but I would pay. Join us, beautiful one,” Pierre said, holding out his hand. A knife sliced through his palm and he cried out in surprise.
“Keep your filthy hands to yourself,” Fox said, moving in front of Silvian. She had kni
ves in her hands and before Pierre could express his outrage, she let them fly. A Wiccan and two others fell as her knives found their targets.
“Go now!” Silvian shouted at Blue Jay and the truck roared. Silvian grabbed Fox around the waist and they disappeared in cloud of sleet and lightning.
Fox couldn’t remember much of that journey, the screaming sound of wind, chaotic rain and Silvian’s wild laughter. They landed in Silvian’s yard. Fox was soaked and shaking, too scared to let him go.
“Are you all right?” he asked as she stared up at him with wide eyes.
“I…yeah…maybe?” she realised she was clutching his wet, naked body a little too tightly and let him go with a start. “I have to get back to Harley,” she added without looking at him.
“There’s no need. Blue Jay is bringing her here. They are all coming here because I don’t have the power to protect everyone’s houses separately. Are you sure you are okay? What’s wrong?”
“Can you please find some pants?” she asked.
Silvian clapped his hands, “Done.” Fox looked over and saw he was now wearing a pair of black trousers.
“Thanks, I’m going to go home. Take care of Harley for me when she gets here.” Fox walked to the newly installed back gate that led into her yard.
“Thank you, by the way,” he called.
“What for?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him.
“Trying to defend me even though you didn’t have to. I swear no one has jumped in front of me like that for a thousand years,” he smiled and she felt the warmth of it slide down her backbone. “You keep that up and I’m going to think you don’t hate me as much as you put on.”
“You keep thinking that.” She rolled her eyes and hurried through the gate.
Paranoia got the best of her and she checked the backyard carefully before removing her spare key from where it was buried in a pot plant.
She thought of what Silvian had said and groaned, “Dumb ass.” Of course, he would’ve been fine, but she’d seen Pierre closing in and had retaliated. She hadn’t liked the look in Pierre’s eyes either, like Silvian was dark chocolate ganache ready to be eaten.
She pulled the sopping dress over her head and dumped it in the laundry basket. She’d lost her shoes, and her stockings were muddy and ripped. Sitting down on the floor of her shower, Fox let the hot water pummel her. She’d barely slept the last few days. None of them had. She still hadn’t cried and couldn’t even force herself to.
Harley had been screaming today. It was a good sign for her. It meant that Blue Jay would be holding her right now and she would be letting her tears go. Fox held hers and tried not think about blood all over the floor of the one place she’d felt safe in her entire life.
The sun was almost gone by the time Fox got out and put on a pair of cotton boxer shorts and a singlet. Pouring another large glass of whiskey, she stood in the kitchen and watched the last of the sun’s rays die. Her eyes drifted unbidden to the big white house and the lights that were going on in it one at a time.
Fox frowned, picked up the bottle of whiskey and headed down to her basement. She turned on her computers and checked her neglected emails for a few hours before switching over to the news feed. There had been a foiled terrorist attack in Britain that made her heart race. She checked the location of the attack against her ever-growing file on the Illumination and Vasya Melenko.
“Damn it.” She picked up the wad of photos and hurried up the stairs. Outside, the air was cool and she tried her best not to trip as she walked across the wet grass and through the gate. Much of the big house was dark now and Fox hoped Harley would be sleeping finally. The door opened as she stepped onto the back porch.
“Good evening,” Silvian said as he moved to let her in. He was wearing a red and gold silk robe and matching pajama pants.
“There’s been an attack.” Fox passed him the photos and headed for his kitchen. She was helping herself to the crystal decanter as he put the photos down on the counter.
“I know there’s been an attack and I don’t need the photos to tell me that it was an Illumination building. I was in the Illumination, remember? You also knew that I’d already know but you still felt the need to come and tell me. The real question is why are you here?”
“I wanted to check on Harley.”
“Harley and Blue Jay are asleep. He’s calmed her and they are both resting deeply, thanks to yours truly. Cerise has gone out hunting, and Isabelle and Hamish will be staying at Mama Lya’s for the night. They wanted to make sure the Council didn’t try to pillage the place or whatever these savages do.”
“Thanks for helping them out. I’ve been waiting for Harley to flip but I didn’t expect her to do it so grandly,” Fox said as she studied the marble pattern on the bench top.
“And so we are only waiting for you now.” Silvian reached past her for the decanter, the sleeve of his robe brushing against her bare skin.
“Waiting for me? To what? Skitz out and start crying? Good luck, I’ve already tried to and it didn’t work,” she said and put her glass down. Silvian poured his drink and studied her carefully.
“I know what you need,” he said.
“I’m not going to have sex with you.”
“Did I say you needed sex? My goodness, even Anya wasn’t as defensive as you and that’s really saying something. Have I behaved toward you in anything but a gentlemanly manner?”
“No, I guess.”
“You don’t need to guess. Am I really so untrustworthy that you think I would take advantage of your grief?”
“No, um…sorry,” she replied, crossing her arms and looking at her feet.
“That’s quite alright. Sex isn’t what I had in mind, just to clarify. It was this.” Before she could dodge it Silvian wrapped his arms around her in swirl of silk and warm brown skin. The smell of cinnamon, sandalwood, desert flowers and man enclosed about her and hung on.
“What are you…”
“Shhh, stop talking and wait.” Silvian’s arm moved to stroke her hair gently. Fox’s arms moved from where they were crossed in front of her and she hesitantly wrapped them underneath his robe and around him. His lower hand started to stroke her back. Despite her bitchy comments about his nature, Fox did trust Silvian. Standing in his kitchen with his arms around her, the pain of the last week came rushing to the surface.
“You don’t have to carry other people’s grief anymore, janeeman. You can let your own go too. It is a burden that is pointless to keep bearing.” Fox’s eyes started to burn and she started to shake. Silvian’s arms tightened and she began to cry before she could stop.
“God, I hate you right now,” she said in-between sobs.
“No, you don’t. It is okay, I won’t tell anyone.” Silvian started humming and she held onto him weeping. After a long time she lifted her head up.
“I have ruined your robe,” she sniffed, looking at the big wet stains on the silk.
“It will survive,” Silvian said as he leant down and kissed a stray tear from her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat as he kissed away another one from her chin. “Tears bring healing, little Fox. Do you know that you can taste how much love is in a tear? Angry tears are bitter but the tears from a heart broken by love are the sweetest of all. You loved Lya deeply, so there is no shame in crying for her.”
“You’re going to start me off again if you don’t shut up,” she whispered as another dropped down her face and started to slide down her neck. Silvian studied its descent before catching it on collarbone with his fingertips. “I thought you said sex isn’t what you had in mind.”
Silvian raised an eyebrow. “Sex isn’t in my mind, but I can’t account for what is in yours.” Fox blushed deeper than she had since junior high. He touched her neck and laughed quietly. “And here I was thinking that you couldn’t blush, though I must say it is very becoming on you. Rest easy, I promised Isabelle I wouldn’t take advantage of anyone’s grief today.”
“In th
ree thousand years, you have never broken a promise?”
“Plenty, but I have never broken a promise to Isabelle.” There was a heat coming off him and Fox’s hands began to itch.
“Then I suppose it is lucky that she said nothing about letting other people take advantage of you then,” she said and kissed him before she could chicken out.
“Help, Isabelle, I am being taken advantage of,” he said and Fox erupted in giggling laughter and promptly tried to stifle it. Silvian twisted his fingers gently in her hair. He frowned at her.
“What? What is it?” Fox asked nervously.
“You have the look of someone who has only been fucked and not made love to. I am going to rectify that egregious error.”
“There is a difference?” Fox asked sarcastically. Silvian smiled and it was filthy.
“Sweet girl, tonight is going to be an education.”
Chapter Twenty-Three - Birchwood
“Are you ever going to tell me what you saw?” Aramis asked. Anya was picking up concern from him like a beacon. They had all been quiet since Aramis told them about Mama Lya. She’d been a hard woman to get to know, but she was still one of their own and her loss was a blow. That knowledge on top of her visions had sent Anya into herself and she found it a struggle to say anything at all.
“It has barely been three hours, Aramis,” Eldon pointed out, “leave the girl alone with her thoughts. The first time I went into a Bardic trance like that I didn’t talk for days afterward. The brain is a powerful thing and what Anya saw is her own to deal with. Hurry the process and you will regret it.”
“I’m regretting leaving her in your care to begin with.”
“Jealousy is an ugly colour on an Álfr, kind of like beige on everyone else.”
Anya stopped walking, purposely letting them go ahead of her to continue their bickering without her in the middle. Mychal was walking at the back of the group, keeping watch behind them. Anya fell into step near him and let the silence envelope her. No one knew how to be silent like Mychal. If he spared her a glance, she didn’t notice and she was grateful.
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