Blood, Smoke and Mirrors

by Robyn Bachar

  “What’s our plan for today?” I asked.

  “I still say you should stay here, or let me take you somewhere else safe.”

  “If it gets real bad I can stay with my cousins, but I’m not letting the evil dead chase me out of my home if I can help it.” To emphasize my point I jabbed a spatula in his direction, and he held his hands up in defeat.

  “All right, I surrender. I’ll have to make some calls, and if nothin’ turns up we’ll take a drive and talk to some people.”

  “That sounds deceptively easy.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t be.”

  “How encouraging.”

  When I finished the last of the pancake batter, I loaded up my own plate and refilled my coffee before sitting across from Lex. My cats sat side by side at his feet and stared up at him as he ate, until I distracted them by getting up and filling their food dishes. The loud crunching of cats chowing down on dry cat food was the only sound in the kitchen while everyone enjoyed their breakfast. I don’t do well with silence, and decided to ask something that’d been bugging me.

  “Did the faerie council send you?”

  “You know I can’t answer that.”

  “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Obviously the witches’ council couldn’t care less about my welfare. They’d probably kill me themselves, ’cept they don’t want to get their holier-than-thou hands dirty.” I pushed the plate away from me as I suddenly lost my appetite.

  “You’re not bein’ fair to them.”

  “Why should I? They weren’t fair to me,” I countered. “I got cast out for self-defense. Self-defense. Most people get off with a warning, ’specially for a first offense. It’s crazy.”

  “I know…” He trailed off, and for a moment it looked as though he was struggling to say something, but then he sighed, shaking his head. “Look, Cat. I don’t want to work with Dorian, and I’m sure you can understand that. You’ll make a good Titania. It’s in everyone’s best interest that you stay alive long enough to become it. That’s why I’m here.”

  “I didn’t think guardians got to choose sides.”

  “We don’t, in general. These are unique circumstances. No one wants to see the vampires get a foothold in Faerie, and I do mean no one,” he said, a dire note hidden beneath the Southern drawl. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I pondered his words. As the magic police, guardians ultimately answer to only one power. A higher power.

  “Huh. Right then.”

  Aside from a bit of chit-chat about the weather and other benign topics, the meal was a quiet one. I had no idea what to say to him, and as usual he seemed content with silence-Lex’d always been a man of few words. While I cleaned up dishes and the mess I’d made while cooking, Lex disappeared to take a shower and start on whatever phone calls he needed to make. I wondered who he would talk to, and my mind filled with detective-movie images of a nervous, weaselly snitch whispering secrets into the phone, his voice nearly drowned out with an ominous soundtrack that hinted at impending doom. Probably wasn’t far from the truth-I can’t imagine any wholesome people being willingly involved with vampires and necromancers-and I bet the vamps bumped off informants as readily as the mob. After all, this is Chicago.

  When I’d run out of things to busy myself with in the kitchen, I wandered into my living room and discovered Lex seated on the couch. He’d changed into a new set of clothes, and the old bloodstained ones peeked out from the top of the open gym bag at his feet. This time he’d gone with a pair of blue jeans and a simple, short-sleeved, black button-down shirt. There was a lot of black in that man’s wardrobe. I knew, I’d seen his closet. Then again most of the men I knew seemed to prefer black instead of color. It’s a magician thing. With the stubble gone and his light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail again, Lex almost looked respectable. Almost.

  Frowning into his cell phone, he was arguing with someone in French. I raised an eyebrow. I speak a decent amount of Spanish, because I studied it in high school and college. Both languages have their roots in Latin, which I also have a decent understanding of, so I can get a rough gist of what’s being said-only if it’s spoken slowly enough, and Lex’s heated conversation didn’t qualify. Annoyed, he snapped his phone shut and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him.

  “Problem?” I asked. He looked up at me with temper in his eyes, and I shrank back slightly into the safety of the doorway.

  “A few. Looks like we’re going to have to take a drive.”

  “Where to?”

  “O’Hare. Can I borrow your printer?” he asked, nodding at my computer.

  “Sure, knock yourself out. Why O’Hare? Are we flying somewhere?” I’d never been to O’Hare airport, considering Midway is so much closer to where I live and easier to get in and out of.

  Lex settled in at my desk. “Not really. Just need to talk to someone there, and we’ll need boarding passes to get into the terminal. You’ll want to travel light. Don’t bring anything that’ll scare security.”

  Well, that pretty much ruled out the majority of my magical trinket arsenal. Deciding my attire was appropriate for the airport, all I needed to do was empty anything questionable out of my purse and I was ready to go. Dumping the contents of my bag onto the coffee table, I separated out all my magical tools-a few suspicious-looking crystals, some sinister vials of essential oils (Look out, she’s armed with patchouli!), and four or five books of matches. This left me with a wallet and keys.

  “Here.” Lex handed me a piece of printer paper. I scanned it, frowning in disappointment.

  “Boise? Who wants to go to Boise?”

  “Nobody, that’s why they had seats open.”

  “Oh.” Made sense.

  Lex drove, since I am distinctly lacking in possession of an automobile. Once we got on the expressway I noticed the roll of dark clouds approaching in the distance, preparing to ruin the bright, sunshiny day. It was probably a good thing. With any luck the rain would break the stifling heat and give us a few days of decent temperatures. Traffic wasn’t too awful, so we made decent time getting out to O’Hare. The first drops of rain began to fall as we arrived.

  The airport was enormous. I thought I was prepared for it, considering Midway wasn’t exactly a shoebox, but the place was gigantic. O’Hare dwarfed the other airport, and I was immediately glad I didn’t have to try to navigate the place by myself. Lex maneuvered us through it, quick and efficient, like he had magical radar that alerted him to the lines with the shortest wait. He must be invaluable at amusement parks.

  The crowd seemed to be made up of mostly business travelers, with a scattering of families headed out for their summer vacation mixed in. People clutched their carry-ons as though they expected the bomb squad to swarm them if they made the mistake of setting their bag down for a moment. It made me feel very naked-all I had was a near-empty purse. Lex drew to a halt in a small food court, scanned the area, and then turned to me.

  “You want some coffee?” He nodded in the direction of a nearby Starbucks.

  “Uh, I guess so.” Coffee? We’d come all the way out here for Starbucks? Surely not.

  “All right. Go find us a seat, I’ll be right back.”

  Without another word he walked away, and I watched him in a state of fuzzy confusion. Deciding to play along and do as I was told, I picked out an empty table and grabbed a seat. I settled back and continued to watch the crowd. The place felt like a mall with businessmen instead of teenagers. It was very odd. Most of the tables around me were taken up by people in suits sipping coffee while staring intently at their laptop computers-lord forbid they go anywhere without a wi-fi connection, might miss an email while waiting for their flight. A mother and her three children were seated a few tables away, and one of the kids began bawling because her brother stole one of her fries. Another fine example of why I prefer cats to children. I don’t have to haul my furry babies around and suffer through feline temper tantrums in public. Not that I’m morally opposed to childre
n, I just didn’t foresee any in my future.

  “Here you go,” Lex said, interrupting my train of thought. He handed me a small cardboard cup of steaming coffee and I sipped it. Vanilla latte, my standard gourmet coffee drink. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he remembered, but for some reason just that simple detail made my throat tighten with emotion. Seating himself across from me, he sipped at his own cup.

  “Why are we here?” I asked, my voice slightly strained.

  “Waiting for someone.”

  “Okay. Pilot? Flight attendant? Business traveler?” I guessed, and he shook his head.

  “Nope. Give it a few minutes, you’ll see.”

  “Great.” I leaned back in my chair and decided that questioning him further was going to get me jack in the way of information, so I changed the subject. “Still have those season Cubs tickets?”

  Lex chuckled, giving me a grin that made my stomach do a fluttery flip-flop. “Sure do. I haven’t been to one in awhile though, been pretty busy.”

  “Uh-huh. How’s Marie doing?” Marie was one of Lex’s many sisters, and the only family member of his I’d met.

  “Not bad. She’s still out in Denver, though our mama’s been tryin’ to get her transferred back home.”

  “Why?”

  “Well the Duquesnes are based in Louisiana,” a voice offered from behind me. “It’s tradition that they eventually go home to roost, as it were.”

  Startled, I turned to see an aged janitor leaning against a mop, his tired brown eyes looking down at me from behind a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses. The man wore a plain gray coverall with an ID badge as its only decoration, and I wondered how I’d missed seeing him before. I guess he just blended into the background too well.

  “Large family, the Duquesnes,” he continued. “French originally, quite an interesting history.” The janitor turned his gaze to Lex and then ran a gnarled hand through his wispy white hair as he eyed the younger man. “Figured I’d see you here, sooner or later. Looks like it’s sooner. I don’t have anything for you.”

  Curious, I surreptitiously sniffed at the newcomer, noting that beneath the strong smell of bleach was the subtle papery scent of a librarian. Guess that explained why we’d come out here-a librarian would have access to the sort of information we needed, and one who based himself in an international airport would hear all sorts of interesting information. There must be more magicians around us than I’d first assumed. It did make sense. Obviously we don’t live by magic alone and we don’t travel by flying on broomsticks.

  “Nice to see you too, Pete. Pete, this is Cat.”

  “Pleasure to meet you, Miss Baker.”

  “Likewise.”

  “You sure you haven’t heard anything?” Lex asked him, appearing unconvinced.

  “All I have is speculation. Everyone’s talking about Morrow’s candidacy, of course, but no one knows the reason for it, or if they do they’re not telling.”

  “What are they saying about his candidacy?” I inquired.

  Pete picked up his mop, plopped the head into the bright yellow bucket on wheels next to him and took the seat next to me. “It’s Laura’s doing, obviously. I doubt Morrow’s made a decision of his own since he took up with her, and she’s got enough ambition for a dozen vampires. No one knows why she’d make this move though. In life she had no link to Faerie, so she isn’t looking to reconnect with her past. She’s prone to wild stunts, but this is odd even for her.”

  Tension pinched my shoulders at the mention of Laura’s name. Lovely Laura Barrenheart was the reason my father left my mother and became a necromancer. She’s the vampire who mentored him. Laura was not high on my list of favorite people.

  “And that’s all you’ve heard?” Lex prompted.

  “There’s some paranoid speculation that the vamps have figured out how to dilute pure faerie blood enough so they can feed on it and not kill themselves. It’d give ’em a big boost, might tip the balance of power. I don’t put any stock in that though.” Pete shook his head. “Right now the big money’s riding on Morrow to win, since the vampires put a price on Catherine’s head. No offense, Miss.”

  “None taken.” Sipping my latte, I resisted the urge to sigh-I was sighing entirely too much lately. Any more angst and I’d be adding black bodices to my wardrobe and shopping for matching lipstick.

  “The vamps have been tight-lipped on this one.” Pete rose to his feet and took hold of his mop. “You know what you need to do, Duquesne, if you want real answers to your questions.”

  There was a grim expression on Lex’s face at those words, and a sinking feeling settled into my stomach. Whatever the other option was, it couldn’t be pleasant. The guardian nodded and took a long drink of his coffee.

  “I was hopin’ to avoid that particular option.”

  I opened my mouth to ask what they were talking about, but all I managed was a strangled gasp as the worst migraine in the history of mankind suddenly threatened to implode my skull. I covered my eyes and blocked out the painful light, whimpering like an injured kitten. Before anything important popped inside my brain I felt Lex’s hand grip my forearm. Waves of soothing energy flowed out from where his skin touched mine, driving the invading magical migraine away until I was able to open my eyes again.

  “You’re all right, sugar,” he murmured to me.

  I blinked at him as I regained my focus, and I noticed that he stared at something behind me. His hand still gripped my arm as I turned around to see what held Lex’s attention, and I spotted my father standing across the room.

  Because he was out in public he’d left the cheesy wizard robes at home and wore a simple black suit instead. Three men stood with him, dressed in similar dark suits and looking as though the Secret Service had started recruiting from the Addams family. I knew the strangers weren’t the ones who’d attacked me, considering my father was smiling. I tensed to leap to my feet and charge across the room to claw that smile off his face, and Lex tightened his grip on my arm and tugged toward him.

  “Cat. Don’t.”

  “What is he doing here?”

  “If you promise to stay put, I’ll go ask him.”

  “No way. I have a few choice words for that asshole.”

  “I’m sure you do. How ’bout we let me do the talkin’ then?” Lex countered, his voice soothing.

  “Fine, fine,” I grumbled. It was a good idea-just because we’d breezed through security to get in here didn’t mean they wouldn’t arrest me if I cussed out Dorian and lit him on fire. Not that I could, seeing as I had no fire to work a spell with, but it was a pleasant thought.

  “Nice talkin’ to you, Pete,” Lex said as he rose to his feet. The old man nodded, looking uncomfortable, and hurried to get far away from the scene that was about to unfold. I stayed close behind Lex as we crossed the room, staring poisonous daggers at my father the entire time. To prevent any further attacks on his part I made sure to put my shields up as we moved.

  “That was just low. Couldn’t resist takin’ a cheap shot, could you, Dorian?” Lex said, drawing to a halt. Now that we were close I could smell the magic rolling off the group, and easily recognized them as necromancers from their unholy stench. It was all I could do not to gag.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I asked. “I’m willing to bet you and your buddies aren’t taking a trip to Disney World. Unless you’re planning a hostile takeover of the Haunted Mansion.”

  Dorian ignored me, concentrating his disdain at Lex. “Duquesne. I’m surprised to see you here, especially with her. I wasn’t surprised to hear you’d chosen a side in this, but a man in your position really should be more careful.”

  “Just trying to keep things fair. You know it’s not legal for applicants to try to kill the competition. It’s considered cheatin’.” Lex eyed the necromancers. “Assuming y’all even remember what it’s like to abide by the rules. Course you’ve already proved that you’ve got the paternal instincts of a snake, Dorian.”

&n
bsp; I choked down a bitter laugh and it came out as a cough instead. Dorian glared at me and I gave him a sardonic smile. “Hey, what happened to your eyebrows? Get a little too close to a fire?”

  Apparently his ego hadn’t recovered from his toasty dragon encounter and he took a step toward me. Lex moved in front of me, blocking him. “Play nice, now. Wouldn’t do to make a scene.”

  Dorian paused, glaring first at the guardian and then at me. “You won’t be able to hide behind him forever. He won’t be able to protect you during the next test,” he said, his voice low and threatening. “I’m surprised you’re trusting him at all, after what he did to you.”

  “That’s none of your business. I’m not worried, but you oughta worry more about yourself. Next time you might lose something more important than eyebrows.” I tried to sound more confident than I felt, but it didn’t come out very convincing.

  “You won’t survive this.”

  “When I become Titania, my first act will be your execution.”

  “You don’t have the spine for it. You’re weak, just like your mother. Useless, whining witch,” Dorian sneered in disgust.

  My temper snapped and my shields vanished in a fizzle of fury as I hauled back and slapped him across the face. “Don’t you talk about my mother that way, you-”

  Lex cut me off mid-shriek as he clamped a hand over my mouth and hauled me out of arm’s reach of my father. I struggled, wanting to take another swing at him, but Lex didn’t let go. Several more suspicious men hurried over to join Dorian, and by the lack of color in their ensembles I guessed they were also necromancers, probably a dozen in total. What was this, a convention?

  “So this is your daughter, Dorian?” a new voice interrupted, calm and soothing. The posse of necromancers parted like the Red Sea as the speaker approached us. The only one of the group who’d incorporated color into his wardrobe, the man stuck out from the crowd. Though I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before, he looked vaguely familiar. He was tall, well-tanned, with sandy blond hair and a pair of expensive designer sunglasses. “It seems she’s inherited your temper. Thankfully she has her mother’s looks, lucky girl.”