“Right.” That was pretty typical. Orphans were born with magic, but not to the bloodlines of the Families. The Families adopted the ones they found worthwhile, but they were never treated on par with their own. Had Curtis not found Luc and Anders and risked everything to join with them, one of the Families might have adopted him.
The thought made him shudder.
If Rebekah saw, she didn’t comment. “Well, my grandmother? She was the coven head’s daughter. She and my grandfather were not the pairing the coven head wanted for her by any stretch. I’m not sure what he thought was worse: that she wanted to be with an Orphan, or she wanted to be with a black man.”
Curtis flinched. “Ouch.”
“Ouch.” Rebekah said, in a voice more tired than Curtis had ever heard her use. “You know what the Families are like now, imagine them back then. Anyway. Thing is? My grandfather is one of the kindest men I know. Even in the middle of the Family shit-storm. Between you and me? I think when he takes over for my great-grandfather, things are going to change. He’s genuine. He cares. Kind of like Mackenzie’s mother, you know?”
Curtis had met Katrina Windsor a few times. She seemed decent.
“Well, after my grandfather married, things got even worse. They had my mother, and she pretty much pissed everyone off from day one. She’s one of the strongest damn wizards the Mitchells have ever had.”
“Nice,” Curtis said.
Rebekah shook her head. “Not for me it wasn’t. I don’t know. Some days I don’t blame her. See, she got the Mitchell inheritance. And that sure as shit wasn’t supposed to happen, as far as the coven heads were concerned.”
“Like Matthew?” Curtis said.
Rebekah nodded. “Like Matthew. Though the Mitchell gift isn’t prescience. It’s more like…seeing truth. They call it ‘piercing the veil.’ Magic can’t fool her. Illusions, obfuscations, whatever. She sees right through it. Inheritances come with a big boost of power, too. And she was already strong, like I said. So her being able to toss around magics like nothing would ever wear her out? Seeing through any bullshit someone tried to magic up? That shit was not okay. She barely gets a moment to herself unless she fights them tooth and nail. They want her around all the time, like some kind of magic bullshit detector. She has zero freedom. But she also has zero tolerance for putting up with their shit, so they fight. A lot.”
She tore the paper wrapper from the oatmeal muffin.
“That, as you can imagine, didn’t sit well with Jonathan Mitchell, so they did what they could to move the inheritance along. They married her off—to another Orphan, my father—and hoped the gift would move on sooner rather than later. And with two Orphans in the mix, there was a good chance it would hop back onto the main Mitchell bloodline, but even if it went to her kid, that would be better than leaving it with her, to their mind. Surely they could raise a kid to be more compliant than she was.”
“That’s you?” Curtis said.
“That’s me.”
“You,” Curtis said. “Compliant.” He barely kept a straight face.
“I fake it.” Rebekah gave him a rare smile. “And they don’t much care, unless I inherit. That was the whole point. The Mitchell coven head wants someone easier to control.” She shrugged. “Basically, they wanted my mother knocked up as soon as possible. I’m not even sure she and my father care for each other much. And Jonathan keeps him busy in Montreal or Kingston most of the time, so he’s not around to be an influence.”
“That’s awful,” Curtis said.
“It’s the Families,” Rebekah said. “Anyway. They got pregnant. And then…” She trailed off.
“Demon,” Curtis said. He didn’t want to make her have to say it. “While she was pregnant with Kavan. Anders told me once how it works. I understand.” Rebekah’s mother must have been seduced by a demon while she was carrying Kavan and was lucky enough to survive giving birth to him. Kavan’s soul would have been “shelled” by the demon, left with the nascent essence of a demon-to-be, and when Kavan reached adulthood, his demonic nature would have come forth.
But Rebekah shook her head. “You don’t get it. My mother had twins, Curt.”
Curtis blinked, looking at the still form of Kavan on the bed. He looked back at Rebekah.
“Oh,” Curtis said. Then, after a moment, it clicked. “Oh.” The demon didn’t completely shell Kavan. Mostly, sure. In fact, almost entirely. But the demon got a bit of Rebekah, too. “So Kavan got to keep a bit of his wizard bloodline, and you got a trace of demon?”
She exhaled. “It’s not much. Mitchells are already handy with fire, and I don’t think anyone really noticed why I’m better than average. My mother? Like I said, she sees truth. But we don’t exactly get to talk much, they keep her so busy.”
She took a bite of the muffin and closed her eyes. “Either I’m really hungry, or this is the best non-raisin muffin ever.”
“Probably you’re hungry,” Curtis said.
They ate quietly. Curtis drank some of his tea.
“People say all sorts of shit about her,” Rebekah said. “She’s cold, she’s mean.” She shook her head. “She isn’t. She’s my grandfather’s daughter. When Kavan and I were kids, they couldn’t always keep her from us. Those days? She was incredible. But they took her away so fast. Kept her from us as much as they could. For the Family, of course. The Mitchells needed her gift.” Rebekah shook her head. “And then, after Kavan changed? Then it was a shit-storm of accusations. How could a demon get to my mother, who could see through any illusion there was?”
Curtis hadn’t thought of that. It was a good point, but he wasn’t going to ask.
“After Kavan, she just sort of drifted away from us. Sometimes I think she didn’t want us to see how they treated her. I don’t know.” Rebekah shrugged. “She must know about me, too. Sometimes I’m sure she can see it. I figure her inheritance is a lot like what you did with your spell. But she’s never said anything.”
“Can you draw on souls?”
Rebekah fell silent. Curtis wondered if he’d stepped over the line. He had a habit of being too curious, of asking before he thought about what he was asking, and he was about to apologize when she finally spoke again.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Kavan tried to help me some, and a couple of times, when I was having sex, it felt like maybe I did something, but I never…I don’t need to, anyway. I mean, I’ve got soul of my own. But can I? I never really wanted to find out. I mean, my family walked out on him when he changed. Last thing I needed was to give them any excuse to do the same to me. Especially since I’m pretty much the only one who refused to leave him hanging. The bit of magic he has sure seems to work well with his demon side. He can’t do much in the way of actual spells, but all his demon stuff seems to have an edge to it.”
Curtis nodded. “Thank you. For telling me.”
She looked back at her twin. “Maybe him having wizard in him will mean he can pull through, right?”
“I hope so,” Curtis said. But looking at Kavan, who was so still, and remembering what he’d seen with his magic, he doubted it. He didn’t have enough soul left. That tiny shard of wizardly bloodline might hold him at the edge, but he didn’t think it was enough to bring Kavan back any farther. The necromancy had altered him permanently and left behind the black nothing instead. The person with the rest of Kavan’s soul wasn’t likely to give it back, either.
They sat in silence for a while.
“Do you need anything?” Curtis said.
She shook her head.
He rose and had to sit down again, fast.
“Curt?”
“Head rush,” he said. He was still pretty tapped out. Maybe Luc was right. Maybe what he needed to do was go home and sleep.
“You really do look like crap,” Rebekah said.
“Seems to be this year’s look,” Curtis said. He got up slower this time. “If there’s anything I can do, just text me, okay?”
She was already looking ba
ck at her brother. As Curtis stepped through the door, he heard her whispering words of magic. He caught the words curatio and spiritus and hoped her healing magic would help.
He didn’t think it would.
Fourteen
The moment the sun had dipped below the horizon, Luc came up from his basement bedroom and found Anders sitting in the living room, his laptop open across his knees. The demon closed it as Luc came in.
No sign of Curtis.
“How is he?” Luc said, nodded his head up to the ceiling.
“He went out for a little bit this morning, then came home and crashed. He’s been asleep most of the day. I made him supper, and he ate it, but then he crawled back into bed.”
“And you?”
Anders pulled the neck of his T-shirt down, revealing enough of his chest to show Luc the skin was unblemished. All sign of the werewolf attack was gone.
That was good. “How do you feel about nature reserves?”
Anders raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“That will do. There’s someone I’d like to go meet, and if my information is right, she’ll be at work for another hour and a half or so. If we drive quickly, we should catch them before they leave for the day. I’d rather speak to her somewhere public.”
“She?”
“Her name is Taryne Rhedey. I’ll explain on the way,” Luc said. “It might be better to take your car.”
It took them a bit longer than Luc expected to get to the Ottawa-Region Wildlife Centre, even with Anders’s typical lead foot. They’d driven away from the city, and Luc found himself remembering the last time they’d come out to where the space was mostly green. They’d faced off against Renard in a small cabin not too far from where they were now.
“Maybe this time we won’t have to burn the place down,” Anders said, parking in the partially plowed portion of the Centre’s lot.
Obviously, he was remembering the same thing.
“We can only hope for the best,” Luc said.
There were a series of barns—one large, two smaller—as well as what looked like large fenced-in fields, and the sloping field behind the main brick building backed out onto the river. Luc glanced at the other few cars in the lot. Others were still here.
“Have you ever met a druid before?” Anders said, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He was wearing the odd orange, red, and yellow hat Curtis had given him for Christmas. He tried not to show amusement at the demon’s obvious discomfort with the cold.
“No,” Luc said. “But from what I understand, it would be best if we don’t anger her. Perhaps you should remain silent at all times.”
Anders rolled his eyes.
The electronic bell chimed as they stepped into the Centre. It had a large, welcoming entrance, with an almost museum-like set-up. Posters, models, and small information plaques formed an arc in front of the main desk, where a grey-haired woman looked at them with a smile.
“Hello,” she said. “How may I help you?”
“We’re here to see Taryne Rhedey,” Luc said. He released a little of his glamour as he spoke, and the woman’s eyes widened. She was probably a volunteer. From what Luc understood, the Centre only had a few paid positions as it sometimes struggled for funding.
“Is she expecting you?” she asked, picking up the phone from the cradle and tapping a button.
“I’m afraid not, but I heard she is the best woman to talk to about an issue I’m having with some coyotes. I didn’t want to just call the city. I was worried they’d not take the animal’s safety into account.”
“Taryne? Do you have a second to meet with someone before you go? They just came in.” She paused, and Luc’s sharp ears caught a lightly accented voice asking what it was about.
“Coyotes,” the woman said.
A moment later, she nodded and put the phone down. “She’s just through the back. First door on your left.”
*
Luc knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
The office was small but very tidy. Books lined a single bookshelf behind a functional desk, and two filing cabinets filled the far wall. The single window looked out over the river, where Luc could see light reflecting on the water. Behind the desk, a woman was typing on her computer. She held up one hand, saying, “Just one minute and I’ll be right…with…you.” She finished and tapped the touchpad on her computer. She was dressed for comfort in a brown turtleneck sweater and faded jeans and had her long brown hair pulled back in a functional ponytail. She wore glasses and looked quite young to hold the doctorate mentioned in the information Denis had gotten for him.
“Now,” she said, smiling, “How can I—”
She stopped, sniffing.
“We mean you no harm,” Luc said.
She slid the glasses off and put them on her desk. She had brown eyes, but Luc could see small flecks of amber in a ring around her irises.
“Is that so?” she said.
“It is.” Luc wished for more seats in the small office. He felt like he was looming over the woman, and Anders nearly filled the room by himself.
“Close the door,” she said. If she was intimidated by Luc and Anders being there, it certainly wasn’t showing.
Anders closed he door. It felt even more crowded than before.
“You’re the vampire who messed up my chase,” she said.
It took Luc a moment. “You were the pale-furred wolf. The one erasing its own footprints.”
She rose, and though she wasn’t much more than five and a half feet, she had presence. “If it hadn’t been for you, I could have caught him.”
“How did he get away?” Luc said. “I heard you both stop running, but I couldn’t see from where we were.”
She crossed her arms. “Perhaps we could start with the basics. Who are you?”
Luc paused. “I apologize. I’m Luc Lanteigne. I’m the Duc of Ottawa.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Which would make the big guy there the demon, I’m guessing? Andrew, isn’t it?”
“Anders,” Anders said.
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Happens a lot.”
“Ms. Rhedey—” Luc started again.
“It’s Doctor.”
“Ah,” Luc said, ignoring the laugh Anders covered with a short cough. “I apologize. Dr. Rhedey. I know the local wolf packs keep you in high regard, and you obviously know about the attacks that have happened.”
She nodded. “Yes. That’s why I was tracking Faris.”
Luc paused. “You were chasing Faris? Duane Faris?”
She tapped her nose. “His scent. He and I don’t get along, and although it’s not the first time he’s done something stupid, this is the first time he’s killed. And demon or not, we have rules.”
“Faris is dead,” Luc said.
Rhedey exhaled. “Well. That’s…unfortunate, but I suppose it’s for the best. If he was out there killing, then it needed to be done.”
“You misunderstand,” Luc said, and her sharp eyes returned to him. “He’s been dead for a while. According to the doctors from the Family, at least a couple of weeks.”
Rhedey shook her head. “It’s not possible. I smelled him.” Then she paused. “Although…”
“Although?”
She looked at him. “I lost his scent. When I almost caught up to him, he’d shifted back to his human form.” She shook her head. “It didn’t make sense. To fight me as a human? It wasn’t a smart move. I thought I had him. I went for him, but he used magic. I hadn’t known Faris could do that.” She looked down. “And now, I’m thinking he can’t.” She shook her head. “By the time I got back on my feet, he was just gone. He’d stepped into the shadows and vanished.”
“Vanished?” Luc said.
Rhedey looked at him. “I lost his scent, everything. He was just gone.”
“More illusions,” Luc said. “This individual seems quite adept.”
Rhedey raised an eyebrow. “May I ask why you car
e? I don’t want any violence to spill over against the packs of the city or the innocent lone wolves, either. But I’m not sure why a vampire duke would get involved. Certainly, your predecessor wouldn’t have bothered.”
“I am very much not Matthieu Renard.”
“No,” Rhedey said. “No, you don’t seem to be.”
“Honestly?” Luc said. “I would prefer the city be safe for everyone. The less death, the better.”
“That’s an interesting point of view for a vampire.”
“Less violence, then.”
Rhedey took a breath. “You’re sure Duane Faris is dead?”
“Quite.”
Rhedey shook her head. “I keep sensing him. And it sure smelled like him.”
“Pardon?” Luc said. “I thought you weren’t in a pack?”
“You’ve been checking up on me?”
Luc nodded. “Of course. Our original investigation led us to consider any wolf with a magical ability of any kind. You are a druid, so I needed to know more. All the wolves in the area value you, even though you have no strict affiliation. Beyond that, though…” He shrugged. “That’s why we’re here.”
“I’m a suspect?” She sounded amused.
“You were,” Luc said. “Before I met you. Safer now to say I doubt you’re involved in any way other than what you’ve said.”
“Safer for you, that’s for sure.” Rhedey laughed.
Luc blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m a druid,” Rhedey said. “My magic comes from the sun. If I wanted to, I could make things…uncomfortable…for you.”
“Ah.”
“I like her,” Anders said.
“Gee, thanks,” Rhedey said. “Come on, I need to lock the place up, and then we can go to the barn.”
“The barn?” Luc said.
“I need to check on my patient. I believe you sent him to me.”
*
Luc had to admit Zack Kling looked much better.
Taryne Rhedey had waved to the volunteer as she’d driven away and locked the main building before leading them to the farthest and smallest barn. Despite the warning on the door that only authorized personnel were to enter, she keyed a code into the door and held it open for Luc and Anders.
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