“That’s a lot of money for a simple artefact.”
“It would mean a lot to the wolves. We grew up hearing stories about it. The witch was supposed to have been in love with the wolf she gave it to. One of those big epic love stories.” Gage kept his eyes focused on the blank TV screen on the wall opposite as he spoke. “It’s a symbol of freedom and it’s supposed to protect our race. It’s a nice story.”
“Are you sure it’s just a story?” I asked, recalling what the book said about its supposed powers.
“Yeah. All of our parents told it to us and it’s been passed down through many generations.”
“Does it have a happy ending?”
Gage pulled a face. “I’ll tell you the story some time. It’s just a fairytale really, but the witch and the wolf were real people; and the talisman is a symbol of their unity and their love.”
“I guess it makes sense for a witch to have it, since a witch created it.”
“Only in so much as it was stolen. We thought it was lost forever, but now it’s resurfaced…” He trailed off. “It’s just a talisman. But if you hear anything, would you let me know? I’m sure Noah would appreciate it.”
“I’ll listen for any news,” I told him. While Gage discussed it, he never gave any indication that he thought the talisman might be anything special. Gage regarded it as nothing more than something fabricated from a fairytale. “Don’t say anything though. I don’t want to get your friends’ hopes up.”
We passed the time a little longer, then I yawned a little too frequently, and Gage insisted on walking me back to my room. It wasn’t necessary, but polite nevertheless, so I let him. Micah’s door opened as we passed by and he stepped into the frame. His tuxedo was still perfect and without a single crease, like he hadn’t been sitting or moving at all. He didn’t look too pleased at my being out without telling him, but he kept it to himself. Besides, with the hotel in lockdown, I was probably in the safest place.
“I looked for you,” he said, glancing over at Gage, then back to me.
“I went upstairs,” I told him tartly. “And now I’m going to bed.”
“So I see. Goodnight, Stella. Gage.”
“Micah.”
Micah shut his door.
“I think he’s taking his guardian duty too seriously,” I told Gage as I slipped my key card into the slot and the door opened.
“You didn’t tell him where you were going?”
“He’s not my nanny. Besides, we’re in the hotel and it’s under lockdown. I should be able to move freely here.”
Gage thought about that. “If Evan assigned Micah to look after you, maybe it’s a good idea that you stick with him.”
“You’re not going to lecture me about Evan micromanaging my movements from afar?”
Gage laughed. “I think you can do that just fine by yourself.”
When he was gone, I showered and pulled my jammies from the suitcase that mysteriously appeared. It was placed at the end of the bed while I was gone. I thought about Gage leaving me with some serious topics to think over, since it happened twice now. As I climbed into bed, I dialed Evan once. Unsurprisingly, I got his answering service straight away. This time, I didn’t leave a message. Instead, I hung up and dropped my phone onto the nightstand. I could very well give myself the micromanagement lecture indeed. I even wondered if Micah was on the phone with Evan, perhaps commenting on my most recent movements right now.
Well, screw them, I thought crossly. If Evan couldn’t be bothered to return a phone call, I’d do exactly as I pleased; and if Evan didn’t like that, he could damn well tell me himself.
I fell asleep, feeling cross and frustrated. When I dreamed, I dreamed of pale vampires in love with witches, witches who loved wolves, missing demons, and talismans that protected everyone.
THIRTEEN
Étoile had a room reserved for conducting business and Micah and I slipped inside only five minutes before our first appointment was due to arrive. We had just enough time to receive instructions, but not long enough for me to ask her about the vampire, Matthias. It wasn’t that I wanted to know what he was doing in her room — I’d figured that one out all by myself — but I was curious about him. She never mentioned him. Why? And was whatever going on between them now more than just a fling? More importantly, would her relationship with Matthias affect her candidacy? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask one very important question: did she love him now as much as the time I saw him in her memories? It seemed too invasive of her personal space.
Grabbing coffee from the tray set on the side table, I exchanged greetings with Seren, David and Steven, before taking a seat. I kept my surprise to myself at Steven’s presence. If Mary Richardson could run for Leader, it seemed perfectly fine for a Council member to support another candidate.
Despite a good night’s sleep, I didn’t feel particularly rested. Sweeping a look around the room, I decided everyone else was edgy too.
The room was large with enough space for a long table, with chairs spanning the lengths of each side. They took up one whole wall by the window, and there was a less formal seating area where Étoile had already claimed a Queen Anne chair for herself. She wore a navy suit with an ivory crew-neck top underneath, and her hair was swept backwards to curl behind her ears in a slightly tamer version of her usual style.
“Today will be long,” Étoile told us as she consulted a small plastic folder. “We’ll see the shifters first. Then, the demons, and the wolves after lunch. I’m so glad they’ll have eaten before we see them. They get so tetchy when they’re hungry.” She ran her finger down the list she perused, finishing, “And the vampires after dark.”
“Let’s hope they eat first, too,” murmured David, and Étoile smiled.
“You’re obsessed with food,” said Micah softly as he strolled past, his hands in his pockets. Today, he wasn’t the only one dressed up. I’d taken a leaf from his book and worn a sober, black skirt suit with a pink shell top. Apparently, I’d gotten it right too, seeing as Étoile and Seren were similarly attired, although I wore flats and Étoile wore four-inch heels. If she intended to distract every male guest, all she had to do was stand and show them some leg. I supposed it was easier than yelling.
“I have several appointments with witches that you need not attend.” Étoile closed the folder and tapped her pen against it. “Seren, you know what to do. David, could you play wingman? Stella, you can do coffees and generally look inconspicuous while you evaluate our guests.”
“What am I evaluating them for?”
“Any kind of magic they might be using, their body language. Micah…” She gave him a long, observant stare. “Try not to look too threatening,” she decided as a rap sounded at the door. “Here goes nothing.” Étoile smiled.
Seren answered the door, opening it wide to allow the four shapeshifters to stroll through. Their delegation was comprised of two men and two women, all neatly dressed, though slightly more casual than we. Étoile greeted their leader, a goatee’d man, as if she knew him already. “Arnie, how nice to see you again.”
“Likewise, Étoile.” They shook hands.
As they sat, I felt magic streaming through the room. It emanated from Seren and saturated every surface from the walls, to the ceiling and floor, looping around us to create a bubble of privacy. No one outside of this room would ever know what happened in here. That meant things were going to get a lot more interesting than just finding out how they took their coffee.
Arnie, the goatee’d man, whom I took to be the one in charge, eased one button of his jacket open and took the coffee I handed him with a polite nod. Serving coffee seemed adequate for showing that I was doing my bit, so I retired to my chair, sipping as I watched the exchange. I was fully aware of Micah, who continued to hover around me.
“Nasty business last night,” Arnie started as he took a seat, while his three colleagues assumed standing positions around the room. “I heard you were there.”
“You
heard correctly,” Étoile replied. “We were fortunate it wasn’t worse.”
“The Summit seems to be attracting some negative attention,” he commented evenly. Étoile gave a noncommittal shrug as he continued, “Should we shifters be interested in backing any candidates who have been targeted?” His face was blank as he looked upon her, waiting for an answer. Étoile took her time sipping her coffee.
It sounded like he was asking if he should expect an assassination attempt to undo any bargains he’d previously made. He sounded as if he felt he was being relegated to the bother of having to start afresh, perhaps on uneven footing. It wasn’t exactly an unreasonable comment to make, if he were nervous about backing the wrong player.
“We’re all targets,” Étoile pointed out. “There’s no reason to think any one of the candidates poses an individual target.”
“You were shot. So was Matthew Donovan. And I heard that you were close enough to him, it could have been you instead.”
Étoile remained unruffled. “If that were so, the sniper is a poor shot and we don’t need to worry. As you can see, I’m fine.”
“How is your wound?”
“Healed. Thank you for asking.”
He glanced at me. I smiled. “You have a healer?” he asked next, returning his gaze to Étoile.
“Stella has the healing ability.”
“We have a need for healers from time-to-time. It’s a gift.”
“Your local witches don’t have a special healer amongst them?”
“None with any particular power.”
“Perhaps that’s something we can help you with from time-to-time,” she said, echoing his words. Arnie glanced at me again, and Micah came up to stand behind me as he placed a hand on my shoulder. Arnie gave us a puzzled look, turning back to Étoile as she continued pleasantly, “I’m not saying I’ll send you one for keeps. I’m merely suggesting that if you have need, we can aid you as much as possible. Stella’s healing ability is natural, whereas David’s relies on spellcraft.”
“Shifters get injured pretty often. Sometimes it’s due to the strain of changing our bodies, and sometimes from our internal conflicts,” Arnie explained. His comments were loose enough to mean anything. Then he added, “But we would all appreciate knowing there is someone we can call upon for assistance.”
“I would never withhold aid where I could help. My sister and I can both heal, and we know a few others too.”
“It’s an interesting offer.”
“It isn’t an offer.” Étoile placed her cup on the coffee table as she leaned forward, her hands clasped in her lap. “I’m not bargaining or sweetening a deal. You’ve told me what you need; and I’m in a position to help. I won’t force witches to aid you if they don’t want to, but I won’t prevent them from doing so either. I would ask of you that our races co-operate for the good of all. There’s no reason for us to fight against one another when we can co-exist in harmony. I won’t punish you if you decide your allegiance falls in another direction. Regardless of whom you choose to back, you’ll still have my healing support if I win.”
Arnie stroked his chin and considered that as two of his people exchanged interested glances. “And if you don’t win?”
“I still won’t take any issue with you. We’ve spent too long in isolation. Consider this meeting an extension of friendship, not a desperate bid for your support.”
The man leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs and surveyed Étoile. She didn’t blink as he gazed upon her, nor did she look away. She eyed him indifferently while he assessed her. Finally, without saying anything further, he got to his feet and the others quickly moved towards him. Extending a hand to Étoile, Arnie said, “Thank you for your time.”
“Thank you for yours. David, will you please show our guests out?”
“You did great,” Seren told her sister after David shut the door, sealing us back inside the privacy of Seren’s magic.
“They’re undecided,” Étoile told her. “It was written all over him.”
“He liked the olive branch,” I pointed out. “And you didn’t act desperate. I didn’t sense any magic masking what he felt. The shifter men were both bears. One of the women preferred the form of a dog. I’m not sure about the other woman. A werebear sounds really cute.”
Micah laughed.
Across the room, David nodded. “He respected your lack of desperation.”
“I’m not trying to be genuine without being a…” Étoile struggled for a word.
“A wishy-washy sap?” I supplied.
“Without pretending to promise whatever he wants or being disingenuous,” Étoile agreed. “He would see right through that. He hasn’t led the shifters for thirty years without being a wily son of a gun.”
“Thirty years?” He didn’t look that old to me; maybe early forties. Somehow, I couldn’t see a teenager taking the mantle, even by a fluke, and retaining it all this time.
“He looks good for seventy,” remarked Étoile. “They age well. All of us do in one way or another.”
“I think I see a wrinkle,” said Seren, squinting at Étoile. “Maybe even two.”
“You’re looking in a mirror,” Étoile teased. She checked the slim, silver watch on her wrist. “The demons are due in twenty minutes. If you all want to take a break, do it now. We’ll need to be alert for their visit. Stella, Micah, do you prefer to stay?”
“Why not?” I asked. Through breakfast, I couldn’t help wondering about Hunter and the warnings he’d given me. Absent-mindedly, I thumbed my ring, feeling the smooth stones, and gulped down the anxious thoughts of Evan. I couldn’t think about him now. While we were occupied with Étoile’s campaign I could only devote myself to that. Hunter would most likely be present, but even if he weren’t, the ring had already marked me as something of interest to him and his race. Perhaps it was as harmless and vague as my simple choice of romantic partners. Somehow, I couldn’t quite convince myself that the other demons wouldn’t ask about me, purely out of curiosity. If I were they, I would do exactly that. I would want to know everything about me. I imagined a dossier circling between the demons with every detail of my life and Evan’s, as well as ours together. Evan never took any steps to hide me from the race that made up half his genes, although he never introduced me to them either, beyond Micah anyway. Whatever I felt for him right now, I had to believe that was for a very good reason. I wanted to know that reason and that meant analysing them, as much as supporting my friend.
“No reason,” replied Étoile. “Just wanted to check. We should reserve a table for lunch. Restaurant or here? Anyone?”
“I could go book a table at the restaurant now?” I suggested. “Micah can come with me.” I looked over my shoulder at him, hoping he would come so I could ask him the questions I wanted to ask. “If you want to stretch your legs?”
“I suppose it would be too easy to telephone ahead,” he murmured, but started for the door anyway. I followed him quickly.
“Just the six of us?” I asked, my hand on the door handle.
“Eleven. My parents, Astra, Anders and Daniel will join us.”
“Should we be at the meeting?” I asked Micah as we walked away, my feelings confused as I second-guessed myself. I was pleased that I would see Anders and Daniel soon, because with all the commotion so far, I hadn’t gotten much of an opportunity to spend time with them. Even at the ball, our interactions had been fleeting. Astra still left me perplexed, but I could hardly say anything. Clearly, her family thought she was well enough to be here, and seemed to hold no grudge. Astra was used as a weapon to hurt me, however, not them. All the same, she seemed pleasant to me on the occasions we’d met over the past few days, and my feelings for her were softening. If Marc could offer me forgiveness, perhaps I could do the same for Astra? “I mean, Evan’s dad was…” What? I couldn’t think of a way to put my feelings into words. Only that he left me feeling edgy.
“He’s powerful and will expect you to be there as much to r
epresent yourself as well as Étoile,” Micah told me, settling my internal debate. He reached forward to hit the “up” button for the elevator. “If you don’t show, he might take it as an insult. And I go where you go.”
“It won’t put you in a bad light with them?”
For the first time I could remember, Micah showed a flash of surprise. “I do not answer to them,” he told me.
“Yeah, well, speaking of your boss. Have you heard from him yet?”
“No.”
“Worried?”
“No.”
“He’s never out of contact this long. Even when I was in England, he still managed to text me.” Of course, I now knew that I also wore his ring with the GPS bloodstones. I wondered what would happen if I took it off. Would Evan know?
Micah didn’t speak. Again, I got the sour feeling that something wasn’t right, but I had no clue what to do about it. It was even less reassuring that whatever was happening, Evan apparently didn’t want me to know about it.
“Micah…” I started.
“I cannot discuss what I do not know,” Micah said with absolute finality, ending our curt conversation.
We stopped by the restaurant, made reservations for our party, and returned the way we came. As we approached the doors to the room, the demons rounded the corner at the other end of the corridor and walked toward us. Hunter led the way as four males fanned out behind him, each towering over me. Where were the women? I wondered, as we came to a stop outside the doors.
“Good morning.” Hunter inclined his head, as I scanned the other four. Power seemed to ripple though them and I had to fight the urge to erect a protective barrier around Micah and me. Micah made no move, defensively or otherwise.
“Good morning,” I greeted him in return. When Hunter didn’t make any sign to speak or start towards the door, I said, “Étoile is waiting for us.” Reaching for the door, I opened the handle and stepped through, immediately announcing our guests. When no one followed me, I turned and saw the stand-off at the door. Micah seemed undecided as to whether he should follow behind me, or wait until Hunter’s group had entered. It seemed to be a protocol thing involving status; something that was apparently problematic for Micah. His undisguised disregard for the demons, combined with his allegiance to his boss, an allegiance that was temporarily transferred to me, was giving him difficulty. He didn’t want to defer, but couldn’t not. Hunter’s group seemed uncertain why Micah was present at all, and stared at him.
Magic Rising (#4 Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series) Page 19