Initiation

by Paula Millhouse

  Max stepped between them. “I’m her familiar, Tex. Remember me? Black tabby Maine Coon cat, ’bout yay tall,” Max replied, waving his hand about a foot off the floor.

  Tex’s brown eyes softened to gold. “You’ve shifted? Well, I’ll be damned. Always wondered if you had it in you, mate.” Tex seemed genuinely surprised, and shook Max’s hand a little too hard.

  Max didn’t retract his claws. “Yeah, I did. Wanna file a complaint?”

  Sam frowned. “Dogs and cats—eternal enemies? The last thing I need is for you two to get into it here in the house. Max is with me, Tex.”

  Tex never took his eyes off him, and Max felt hairs pricking at the base of his neck. “You shagging him, Sam?”

  “That’s none of your damn business,” she said.

  “Protecting one of our own is always our business, love. I suppose if you vouch for Max, he can stay, but I’d like to see his credentials.” Tex let go of Max’s hand, then glanced down at Sam.

  Max whipped out his ID card, and flashed it at Tex. In retrospect, he was glad the agent had asked, for Sam’s sake.

  “All right, then. Thought you all might like a nibble. I prepared some goodies.” Tex gestured to a spread of food and drinks artfully arranged in the kitchen.

  “Thank you. I’m starved,” Sam said, then grabbed a sandwich and tore in. Max joined her. He took a filet of smoked salmon, and dug in with gusto. The fish was flaky, and the subtle hint of smoke only served to make the food a welcome feast.

  “Someone called ’round here asking for your whereabouts, Sam.” Tex’s English accent was thick. He’d been reared on the wrong side of the tracks in London, so when he was changed into a werewolf, the HWB was a natural fit for his kind of brash. He and Sam had worked a job tracking down a wayward werewolf about a year ago. “A witch by the name of Victoria Smith.”

  “I’m not surprised to hear she called,” Sam said, and laid her hand on Max’s arm. “She belongs to the fruit bat, which was a sort of surprise.”

  “I’d have laid money on her owning the dragonlet.” Max tore into his salmon after he poured Sam a glass of Jameson.

  Sam took it, and drank a sip. “Victoria is the annual co-chair for my mother’s Samhain event, which they’re holding in Central Park.”

  Tex nodded. “Our intel says Smith is a very powerful witch, as witches go, and a district organizer. At least a thousand witches follow her from covens all along the Eastern seaboard.”

  Max eyed the calendar pinned on the wall next to the refrigerator. Tomorrow night was Halloween. “We have just over twenty-four hours before midnight strikes, and the Samhain Blue Moon Festival of Light begins.”

  “Did Victoria say where she was staying?” Sam asked.

  “She only said she was due into the city sometime tonight,” Tex replied, then turned toward the door. “Right, well, me and my cohorts are off to headquarters now that you’re here. If you need anything, Sam, anything at all, just give us a ring.”

  With that, Tex and his werewolf buddies were gone.

  Sam

  MAX JOINED ME at the breakfast bar, placing my Jameson and ice next to his White Russian, into which I poured a generous amount of heavy whipping cream. I smiled a genuine smile at him. “You like the cream.”

  “I do. Glad Tex took the hint and made himself scarce. I can’t take the smell of that guy, you know.”

  “We need some time alone to figure out our next move. What does your tracker show about Miss Daisy?”

  Max laid the device down between us on the bar. He frowned, took a sip of his drink, and held the device up, waving it through the air, searching for a signal. “Damn. She’s disappeared.”

  I shot the entire highball of Jameson in one gulp. Now wasn’t the time for propriety, and the warm burn of Irish whiskey almost settled my nerves. I followed him around the house. No signal came through.

  “Why would it disappear like that?” Max asked, his frown asking the silent question we both dreaded. Miss Daisy couldn’t be dead. The universe just wouldn’t work right if she was gone.

  “Nothing’s happened to her, Max. Even if they killed Miss Daisy, the device would still track her transmitter. This is magic at work. Black Magic.”

  I lifted my hand to his cheek, wanting to comfort him. He nudged my palm, and I noticed the faintest hint of whiskers growing there on his skin. Geez. It’d been a long time since we’d showered. Would Max have to shave if he stayed in his human form? I loved the way his face felt, and I couldn’t help but wonder what those whiskers would feel like if he dragged them across my skin. Focus, Sam.

  “Black magic? What do you mean? Is this Rosencratz at work?”

  I nodded. “A witch as powerful as she is could cloak Miss Daisy’s transmitter. Remember, Dad said he thought something was blocking him from Mom?”

  His blue-green eyes turned grayer, showing his dismay. When he clutched my forearms, a jolt of electrical power surged through me. “Isn’t there anything we can do?”

  “There is, but we need more power. If she’s spelled the transmitter with a cloak, we need a counterspell to stop her.” It was the best thing I’d thought of all day. “If we were back at the farmhouse, I’d have everything I’d need to cast a counterspell, but Mom always keeps basic things in her pantry like salt and herbs around to spell tons of things.”

  “Is that wise? You working witchcraft?”

  I may be a demigod, but I understood enough about witchcraft and spells to perform what we needed. The problem was the power source. Could I use Atlantis to generate enough power to counteract Rosencratz’s black magic? “Let’s go see what Mom has on hand, shall we?”

  It wasn’t hard to find the things we needed to set up a scrying ring. Three blue boxes of kosher salt waited for me in the brownstone’s kitchen pantry. I managed a smile. “Here, let’s take these and set up the circle in the living room on that ancient Persian rug.”

  I handed the boxes of salt to Max, then searched Mom’s spice rack for the remaining things I wanted. Sage for clearing the area of magic—to neutralize traces of evil. Peppercorns, both black and red ones, for longevity of the spell, and fresh leaves of dragon’s tongue she grew on the windowsill to help me see well. “I just want to see if we can take a peek at what Rosencratz is up to.”

  I threw in some dried sea kelp she kept in a bottle on her shelf to enhance my water affinity to see into the circle we were about to create.

  “Are you sure about this?” Max’s voice sounded worried. After he’d cleared the furniture off the Persian rug, Max stood off to the side, his eyebrows raised with speculation, his hands on his hips, and a little bit of fear in his eyes.

  “What? I’ve seen my sister do this before. Don’t be such a doubting Thomas.” I tried my best to remember the right way to pour out the salt to make the spell.

  “Don’t you need candles, too?” This from him, the peanut gallery. I swept my gaze around the room. Mom had placed white, black, and purple pillar candles in strategic places all about the townhouse. I nodded at Max.

  “Fetch the indigo and white ones and place them in the circle at the five points of the star. Earth, Fire, Water, Wind, and finally, Spirit to unite them for good. Each point needs a colored candle.”

  Max set about placing the candles at each point. Once we had everything in its proper place, I took a cushion off the nearest chair and sat on it outside the circle. Max put another beside me and joined me on the floor. “Maybe I can help?”

  “Whatever you do, whatever you see, don’t go into that circle.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not fooling around this time, Max.”

  “Got it. I’ll stay right here by your side.”

  Our legs touched, but something felt off. I wiggled my left hand, all five fingers, and tapped my wrist twice. Atlantis materiali
zed from my scar, and I placed it across my lap. It buzzed blue-white luminescence around us, illuminating Max’s handsome angular face. I nodded my assent. Why not try? “Okay. Light the candles.”

  He’d brought wooden matches from the kitchen that Mom used to ignite the gas stove. He struck one against the matchbox and it flared to life. The heavy odor of sulfur filled the living room of the brownstone. Max lit each candle, and I chanted along with his movements. “Show us the light. Make right what has been wronged in this house. Give us the sight we need to free the familiar captives tonight.”

  I’m not sure where the words came from. I just channeled them, turning myself over to the magic we created together.

  “Show us Miss Daisy. Show us where the familiars wait,” Max said, clasping my open hand with his. “Show us Helmina.”

  I jerked with his words. Should I let him participate like this? Would two souls ruin the spell, or enhance it?

  Mom had always taught me her spells were best performed alone, and honestly, I’d always practiced my magic alone too, well, except for Max. But come to think of it, what little practical magic I’d practiced, I’d done with him there, by my side, hovering in the background, watching for failed lines, evaluating my magic for problems with my wards, calling out handbook citings of how things could go better. Of course I wanted him here with me.

  “You can do this, Sam.” His voice was always there in the background rooting me on, cautioning me when things went wrong. This felt off by classical standards, but if practicing traditional witch-like spells led me to our mother’s captor, then I was all in.

  I forced myself into the magic, holding nothing back. Max was with me in the spell, his whole heart and soul poured into our request to find our mothers, his deep bass voice urging me on. “You got this. The salt ring is intact, and you can find them.”

  A vision appeared in the middle of the ring.

  He gasped, but I focused on the wisps of smoke lofting above the candles as they took form. Max leaned in, fascinated, watching with intensity. Atlantis surged its blue-white magic, illuminating us in a glow of safety.

  A niggling instinct that I should pull Max back hit me. He was getting too close.

  But I was curious about the apparition too. We searched it together. A cage manifested. A green dragonlet nearly six feet tall wailed against its bonds, crying to be released from his prison. They’d chained him to the bars, and he called for help, his yelp something I could not ignore. Next, a marmalade tabby kitten mewed, calling to my heart with her cries, tracing her steps in a figure eight, trying to appeal to anyone who would reunite her with her people. Poor thing.

  A third image thrust itself up into the candle’s smoke. Sebastian, Cyn’s black-and-tan Doberman puppy. He was beautiful, his ears still covered in the veterinarian’s white tape that bound them to stand straight up. His whines of fear almost tore out my heart.

  They needed our help, regardless of whether they were destined to fight in the HWB, or not. Damn this all to hell—I couldn’t let them suffer. I was a monster-hunter, and some monster had bound these helpless animals with evil intent. My vision clouded, and fury ate at me, threatening to break the fragile bonds we’d established. I reined in my temper, and simply sat and observed the room.

  A cool breeze swept across my skin, and I blanched when the next apparition showed my mother’s face, hardened, and angry. I whipped back from the image. If I let myself get too angry, the vision might disappear. I calmed my breathing, looking harder at the surroundings, refusing my fury, channeling the vision.

  She was chained to a stone wall, and suffering. Miss Daisy was with her, meowing from her lap.

  As soon as Max saw them, he did exactly what I’d warned him not to do. He broke the plane of the circle, and reached out to rescue her.

  Rosencratz was waiting on the other side, and somehow, she got to him. She dragged him into the vision.

  “Oh, hell no, you don’t! No one’s taking him from me.” I blasted her backward with Atlantis, and used the tines of my trident to drag Max back to me.

  Atlantis blew me and Max back from the salt ring, slamming us against the far wall of the brownstone.

  Max gasped, clutching his chest with one arm, protecting my head with his other. Atlantis clattered to the floor beside me, illuminating both of us in glowing light. Max rounded up onto his knees and dragged me into his arms. “Dear God. Are you okay?”

  The candles went black, mere wisps of smoke the only evidence of the vision we’d seen.

  I lolled my head back in his protective clutch. Dizziness threatened.

  “Sam! Sam, talk to me. Are you okay?” He gripped my head in both hands, and shook me, his pained expression of horror vivid. He used his fingertips to search my head for injuries.

  “I’m okay . . .” My voice was less than convincing.

  His eyes bored into mine. The remnants of our attempt to scry into Rosencratz’s domain ended abruptly with her echoing laughter lifting to the ceiling of the brownstone. I shuddered. “That was way too damn close.”

  I was dazed, no doubt about it, but Rosencratz’s laughter infuriated me. I flipped up onto my knees. “We’re gonna need more power,” I said, and let Max pull me into his waiting arms.

  “No, hell no! We’re not doing anything of the sort. She wants you. I saw it. She’s abducted all those souls with one aim. She wants you in trade for them.”

  My hands shook. I found my footing and reared up to standing. “My mom . . . your mom was there on her lap.” I covered my face with my hand. “You saw her, right? God, Max, we’ve got to save them. We’ve got to rescue those familiars before she kills them all.”

  He rose beside me and took my face in his hands. “And we will. We’ll do this together.”

  I pulled back from his gentle touch. “You disobeyed my direct order to stay by my side. Why won’t you listen to me?”

  “I thought I could get hold of my mom. Maybe release Helmina,” he said, casting his glance down. “You aren’t the only one who wants to help them.”

  “And if Rosencratz takes you too? What then, Max?” Shade’s warnings about losing him to a rogue faction loomed in my mind.

  He raised up a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I should have listened. What do you want to do? Will the other witches help us?”

  I bobbed my head. “Yes. Once they understand what Rosencratz is up to, they’ll help us.”

  “Call your sister. You have to get them here now.”

  I nodded, numb from the vision, and searched for my phone. We needed help, and we needed it tonight.

  Chapter 19

  Sam

  I LEAPT UP FROM Max’s embrace and clutched my fists. “Goddamn her.”

  He rose next to me, grabbed my arms and said, “We’ve got to call Shade.”

  I looked around the living room, trying to center myself. Max was right. Shade was the obvious answer. The things we’d seen inside the circle meant we needed help. “But wait,” I hedged, dragging my hand across my face. “We need more witches to enhance this spell so we can figure out where they are.” I searched his eyes. “I’m calling my sister.”

  I rushed back to the kitchen. Our cells were plugged in, recharging, and suddenly Max was at my side. I dialed Cyn’s number and she answered on the third ring. “You gotta get here now. I need you. And every witch you can gather to save Mom from Rosencratz.” Then I told her about what I’d done.

  “Shade can have us there in three hours, maybe four with traffic. What did you see?”

  “Familiars. A dozen of them, drugged, and held captive in cages here in New York. Sebastian’s there. Mom, too,” I said, not able to keep my chin from quivering. “And Miss Daisy. Cyn . . . she’s got her. She’s got all of them, but I can’t see where.”

  Max came up behind me, wrapping his arms around
me, supporting me, keeping me from falling to my knees. I let him, because, God, I was so glad he was here. My hands shook, and my legs felt like Jell-O. My eyes filled with tears. “I’m not strong enough to do this by myself. I need your help. Please.” There was no sense in trying to keep the desperation from my voice. “She almost took Max, Cyn. We need witches . . . strong witches, to stop this . . .”

  “I’ll be there as fast as I can, with reinforcements. Have you heard from Victoria?”

  “Yes. She called earlier.”

  “Okay. I’ll let her know we’re coming. Don’t do anything else, Sam. It’s too risky.”

  “Okay.” For once, my sister and I were in total agreement.

  The phone call ended, and I let myself melt back into his strong arms.

  He held me up, turned me to face him, and grabbed my chin in his hand. “Come on, love. We’re going to get you all cleaned up to meet your people.”

  He dragged me upstairs to a bedroom. “This will do just fine in the interim,” he said, pushing me forward with his hands. “While we wait for reinforcements, I have an idea of what might distract you.” He backed me onto the bed. My knees hit the mattress and I fell back. The cushion of the soft bed called to me. Rest. Yes, I need some rest. I just wanted one minute of shut-eye.

  But he didn’t let me rest.

  He lunged onto the bed too, his legs straddling mine. “Look at me,” he said, his deep voice urging me to look into his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Look at me,” he insisted.

  I opened my eyes and looked at him, really looked at him for the first time since he’d shifted. Those sea-green eyes held utter devotion, and it unnerved me.

  Everything unspoken between us bubbled up to the surface. He wanted me. I wanted him. That decision shone clear and bright behind his eyes.

  For one second, I wanted to lose myself in the promise of whatever was going on between us, but my heart lurched at the possibilities. I reached a hand up and stroked the hard planes of his handsome face. “I may not be strong enough for any of this. I can’t make the spell work right without help, so what if I’m not strong enough for what you’re asking of me?”