He craned his head—a strange, reptilian sort of movement that was somehow both alien and suiting.
“I imagine you can understand the problem the Assembly faces when it comes to you. You’ve been a great boon to the southern region, have fought tirelessly for those in this city, this state…the entire region.” A look of concern settled on his features. It looked real, but it struck me as an…accessory, like the ring he wore, or the walking stick he rested his hands on. It was just an affectation. Nothing more. “But if we were to probe deeper and find that you settled here under false pretenses, that you were, in fact, guilty of crimes against your race and had no right to the status you claimed when you settled…?”
My sword heated. I am here. I am yours. You are mine. We are one…
The soothing tune of her song settled inside me and I met Malcolm’s creepy-ass look with a smile. “Crimes against my race? Sure. I’m the one who committed crimes, although I’ve got scars on my back from the beatings, broken bones from the discipline.” Pushing back from the desk, I swung sideways and propped my boots on the edge. I was careful to keep my left hand on the blade, but casually lifted my right and studied my nails. I doubted I looked as unaffected as I would have liked, but that I’d dare even attempt nonchalance would piss him off. “You be sure to let me know when this goes before a full Assembly. I’ll be calling for a full examination, because there’s no way in hell I’m only going let one very slanted side be told.”
He rose, a stiff look on his face.
“It’s odd,” I said after he’d turned his back. He kept walking. “She often had the fae coming to her, but I don’t remember you. And none of them seemed so willing to dance for her, Malcolm. Why are you?”
He spun, his walking stick in hand.
The magic in my wards flared to life just beyond him, crackling in reaction. The wooden walking stick began to glow, a brilliant silver at first, then the color of dark, spilled blood. And under all of that, there was an aura of deep, dark green.
From one breath to a next, I was on my feet and I held another weapon—another one that had belonged to my mother. It was her shield, murmuring to me in a deep, masculine tone, his glow echoed the shimmering, golden hue that powered the wards.
Malcolm cocked his head, eyes falling to linger on the shield.
I had no idea what good a buckler-styled shield would do if he unleashed what magic he carried inside him, but the longer he stood there, his stupid, stupid walking stick uplifted, the angrier my wards got.
A bolt sliced down from the corner of one wall, leaving a mark of scorched, black ground between him and me and more magic spit from the wards themselves.
“Maybe it’s time you leave,” I said gently.
He just stood there, eyes locked on mine as he held the stick up, parallel to the ground. It had a carving at the head, I realized. A face. Or maybe a mask. There was something familiar about it, but I couldn’t place it.
A bearded man, yet the beard was…odd. Almost more like his beard grew of leaves and twigs rather than hair. And the thing’s eyes were red, red rubies, with twig-like tendrils trailing down out of them like tears.
An ugly, red magic, mottled throughout with that green, colored the air around the stick itself.
My phone rang.
I slid a hand toward the unit on my desk.
“We’re still…talking,” he said coolly.
“I told you to leave.” Hitting the speaker button, I said, “Hello?”
Granted, this wasn’t the ideal time for a business call, but my gut said, answer the phone.
Chapter Five
“Something is wrong.”
The sound of Colleen’s voice didn’t exactly untie the knots of tension.
But it helped when Malcolm spun on his heel and stalked toward the door.
“All sorts of things are wrong, Coll. How are you?”
“Who is there?” she demanded.
Malcolm stiffened. For a moment, I thought he was going to look back. But he simply opened the door and walked out.
“Nobody now,” I said calmly. Still gripping my shield, I went to the door and started the process of reactivating the wards. “Give me a minute, okay?”
I heard the low murmur of a deeper, masculine voice and figured she’d put two and two together. Justin was there with her and he’d built the initial wards here in my office, and at home. But the two of them had taken turns rekeying them and building them into what they were now.
They would have felt what happened just now.
Even when I was done, I didn’t speak right away. In the back of my mind, I heard my blade murmuring, and since nobody was there to see me, I gave into the urge, banishing the shield and letting my blade come to me. With her grip so familiar in my hand, I took comfort in the feel of her, in her solid weight.
Mine, I thought.
I am yours, she whispered as if she heard every last thing that had gone through my mind. I am yours. You are mine. We are one.
“I’m here, Coll.”
“If nothing is wrong, then why did the wards go haywire and why does it sound like you’re meditating?”
“If I was meditating, I wouldn’t be on the phone talking to a smart-mouthed witch, would I?”
That got a laugh out of her. “Since you never do anything the way you should…who knows? Assuming you do meditate, you probably do with a blade in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other.”
“That actually has potential,” I said. A chocolate bar might soothe the savage beast of anger still clawing inside me. Still eying the door, not entirely trusting Malcolm not to return, I circled my desk and opened the skinny top drawer that was too small to serve much use—except when it came to sweets or stray little odds and ends. There was a comb, which I rarely used, a silver ring, which I never wore, a bunch of notes that I’d never gotten around to throwing away…no chocolate. But there was a protein bar with pseudo-chocolate bits in it. It would have to do.
“How is everything going?” I asked, tearing the wrapper open.
“I don’t want to talk about…me.” Colleen’s voice was stilted and rough.
“Then we can talk about me.” Forcing a mock note of cheer into my voice, I ignored the small voice inside that kept insisting she couldn’t hide from what had happened, who she was. I knew all about hiding. If it was what she needed, who was I to tell her otherwise? I’d hid until it was time to stop, then I’d stopped. I’d done some healing during my retreat away from the real life, and then I’d forced myself into the real world again. Colleen would figure out her own way, too.
“I had the weirdest damn visitor.”
“I figured the wards weren’t going haywire because Doyle or Damon had stopped by.” Her voice was droll, the sarcasm so thick, it all but painted the air. “Who dropped by to see you this time? The Queen of England? A hobgoblin who wanted you to dig up the spear of Longinus?”
I blanched, my stomach clutching up on me. “Don’t joke about shit like that. And FYI, no hobgoblin could touch something like that.”
Colleen was quiet for a moment. “Ah…that was a joke.”
“And I said, don’t joke about shit like that. You do realize hobgoblins are goblins, right? Most of them, by nature, are nasty bastards? And no matter what your personal beliefs are, they can’t touch something from a divine faith without bad, bad, bad shit happening. I dunno, but seems we’ve dealt with enough bad shit happening.”
I shot a look at the door, reluctant to sit down.
“I’m pretty sure hobgoblins aren’t in the United States, Kit.” Colleen’s voice was short and curt, almost rude.
It was yet another thing I’d had to adjust to, all the changes in her.
“And I’m pretty sure the Lance of Longinus was destroyed in the fifteen hundreds, but that doesn’t mean I’d like to tempt fate. Besides, monsters, like any other creature, tend to be mobile these days. Hobgoblins likely are in the US. And Colleen? You wanted me to tell you when you were bei
ng a bitch. Guess what?”
“Hey…!” It came out in a sharp snap. Then…nothing.
After a few seconds of silence, she sighed and there was a world of weariness in that sound. “I’m sorry, Kit. I’m just…there’s too much inside me now. Too much coming from everywhere else and I’m not used to having to block it out.”
“It’s okay.” I summoned up a smile, but I doubted she could pick up on it the way she would have before everything about her was unmade, then redone in ways she still hated. “So…you want to play a guessing game about who was here, or would you rather me just tell you?”
“Just tell us, Kit,” Justin shouted from somewhere in the room.
Colleen laughed. “He’s still as patient as ever.”
“All the more reason for you to get up to speed, sweets,” I said. “You were the patient one of our little trio. We need you. Don’t forget that.” I went back to the desk and switched the phone from audio to visual. Colleen blinked in surprise, then, leaning closer to the screen, she pursed her lips. “You took a bad one to the face, Kit. Did you use an ice wrap?”
“Yes, Mommy.” I made a face at her.
“Good. Use another tonight.” Then she settled back in her chair. “What’s going on? Who was the visitor? He left me feeling all creepy and weird and the wards are still pissed off.”
“Trust me, he did the same to me.” Rubbing the heel of my hand over my chest, I shifted my gaze back to the door, even though Malcolm was long gone.
“It was a Speaker with the Assembly. I hadn’t ever had a run in with him until earlier this week. Then a few days ago, he corners me in the parking lot with some job he had to know I’d refuse. Then he shows up here today.” Suppressing a shiver, I answered, “His name’s Malcolm. He’s up—”
Justin pushed her to the side before I could finish.
“Did you say Malcolm?” Justin demanded, his eyes snapping as he glared at the monitor. “Creepy bastard, blond hair, pale eyes, weird feel to his magic?”
“That’s the guy.” Warily, I studied him. “Unless there are a couple like that. I’ve only ever met the one.”
“Just the one. And he’s not just a Speaker any more—he’s moved up. He’s a fucking Regent now.” Justin’s mouth drew into a thin, flat line and his eyes glittered. “What in the hell did he want?”
Regent.
“Ffffuccckkkk…” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. Ignoring Justin’s question, I said, “So if he was here, was it because the entire damn Regency wants my head on a platter?”
“Shit, no. There’s just as much in-fighting with them as there is anywhere else. But you didn’t answer me, Kit.” His voice hardened. “What did he want?”
Slowly, I lifted my head and stared at him. “He…” Running my tongue across the inside of my teeth, I debated, then decided to sidestep. “He wants to…utilize my services—or me.”
“Ah.” He inclined his head, acknowledging what I wouldn’t say outloud.
“I said no.” Eyes narrowed, I added, “Then he threatened me.” I’d damn well say that. If by chance Malcolm had left behind something to listen in on my conversations—mundane or otherwise—then he needed to be aware that I wasn’t going to be quiet about those threats. “The son of a bitch threatened me. He made references to my family.” I frowned, mind racing as I pulled his exact words to my mind. “And he made crap references to how I came here under false pretenses and that I’d lied.”
Justin had lowered his head and all I could see was the dense, thick weight of his dreads. After a few more seconds, he looked up and under the light gold of his skin, I caught the flush of temper.
And there was worry in his eyes.
He said nothing outloud.
But his lips moved.
He knows who you are.
I just nodded.
“He’s being an ass,” Justin said in a voice that was remarkably calm. “But I’m going to contact some friends at Green Road, maybe Red Branch, too. Talk to their Speakers in the Assembly. You’ve got kinship with the Road, so that it’s not like you’re without backing, Kit.”
“Don’t forget the backing that comes along with a couple big scary cats—and all those who follow one of those big scary cats,” Colleen added. Justin angled the screen so I could see them both. She made a face. “Sometimes I still don’t like the big scary cat…but he loves you. Anybody coming at you will have to cross through hell and a lot of pissed-off cats to do it. They won’t fail you again.”
They hadn’t failed me the first time, I wanted to point out.
But I didn’t.
Shifter loyalty and what I saw as loyalty were two different creatures and chances are any cat in Damon’s ranks would see it her way, not mine.
“So is this why you were calling, Coll?” I asked. “Checking up on me? Feel better now?”
She lifted a shoulder and took Justin’s data pad away.
“I knew something was wrong. But…yes. I feel better. Just talking to you helps me feel better, Kit.” A melancholy look entered her eyes. “It’s lonely down in the back of the beyond.”
“Next time I come, I’ll bring a pizza.”
Chapter Six
Interagency Alert
Body of unaffiliated shifter found outside of East Orlando at approximately 4:30 am by a pair of vampires from House Amund.
Shifter was male, assumed to be of average height and estimates placed his strength at sub-alpha level.
Cause of death, beheading.
At this time, no names are being released.
Due to the extreme nature of the shifter’s death, the Assembly would like to make the populace aware of the possibility of an unusual predator in the vicinity. Anyone with knowledge on the death is encouraged to share information.
There will be no reprisals.
Reading the interagency alert that had gone out from the Assembly to Banner, certain trusted individuals in human law enforcement and to all major factions, I tried to shrug off the emotions churning inside.
I felt bad for the unnamed shifter. Sub-alpha level. That would be on Scott’s level. I wondered if the guy had been heading here for Damon. Or because Damon had wanted him here.
I read the information over again, unease settling inside me despite my attempts to brush it off. I couldn’t pin whatever caused it though and my phone buzzed, reminder me I had a job to do.
⸸
“It’s the third body.”
The old man stared at the envelope on top of the stack of mail, his rheumy old eyes milky, but the expression in them was hard and flat.
“Toots?”
He shrugged and looked back his food, content to eat.
Warily, I looked at the envelope, stamped with the familiar seal of the Assembly, then put the entire stack of material down on the wooden planks behind me.
The exterior of the old road side service station was sad—it advertised fresh oranges, grapefruit and juices, the painted images long since gone to rot. Orange now read orang and grapefruit now read rape uit. Not pleasant. Made me want to grab a bucket of paint of fix things up every time I came down here.
But the old witch who lived inside preferred everything to look as old and haggard as it currently did.
His name was Toots Holder and he had lived through more than a few wars—that was how he introduced himself every time he saw me.
He was also slowly losing touch with reality.
The Father of the Green Road house in East Orlando had made the big mistake of trying to bring Toots back into the city. From what I heard, the damage Toots had done to the road had taken nearly three weeks and millions to repair.
The Father of the Green Road house had spent nearly the same amount of time in one of the healing halls. I’d heard there was a big power play in the Assembly—several Speakers had wanted Toots put down.
The Father of Green Road had simply stated if that happened, the Assembly was declaring war on witches.
And all the witches ha
d walked out.
A week later, I was hired to start coming down here. Talk about a nerve-wrecking job.
But Toots was…harmless, really. If nobody tried to drag him out of his nest, he wasn’t going to hurt anybody. And as long as no witches came around. Or vampires. Shifters.
Now, he sat on the bottom step in front of his ugly home, eating a bowl of soup and he looked at the packet of mail I’d brought from town.
He had a house back in the city. It was used as rental property now and maintained by the Green Road, the money banked and used to buy him meals, games, clothes…plus anything that might keep him amused, like books and movies. He had accounts open all over the place and bought things like a hoarder getting ready to be put on notice.
Many of those things sat unopened in corners of his home. Today I was supposed to clear some of them out. That meant keeping Toots happy.
“You want to ask me about the body. Why aren’t you asking me about the body?” Toots asked, voice plaintive, almost like a child’s.
Meeting his gaze, I reached out slowly, aware he might lose it if I touched him—and equally aware, he might clamp onto my hand and cling for dear life, I rested my hand on his knee.
Toots winked at me. “None of that, pretty girl. Your cat would skin me.”
He’d never met Damon. I’d never told him about Damon. But the words didn’t surprise me.
Toots was…well, he’d fought a lot of wars, as he’d said. Some were probably still happening inside his head.
“Should I ask you about the body?”
“Ayuh.” His voice slid into an accent reminiscent of a different corner of America, although I couldn’t pin where. I’d hit the ground running when I came in through Canada and I’d hadn’t slowed down long enough to take in much for almost three years. “You should ask. There’s going to be more. Stupid people. Stupid vampires. Stupid everybody.”
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