by Ann Gimpel
The walls of my flat clicked into place around me, but I maintained a ward. Ready to flee at the first sign my home had been compromised, I was barely breathing as I sent tentacles of magic snaking outward. This would be my last visit here for a while.
Satisfied no one was lying in wait for me, I unraveled the shrouding protecting my unique energy signature and was rewarded with a startled yelp from Midnight. He bounded out from a corner he likes to hide in and jumped into my arms, digging his claws into me, and making little snuffling noises.
“You sound more like a baby piglet than a cat,” I crooned and trolled lightly through his mind. Damn it. Something malevolent had set up shop right outside. Midnight been holed up for hours waiting for the source to leave.
Which meant it was still there. Fuck that crap. I’d show them a thing or two. A small shot of guilt reminded me I was supposed to be hunting for the breach beneath Faery. I get on it right after I was done here.
Keeping my mind voice soft and my magic muted, I told Midnight, “Hide yourself. I will be back presently. The next time I leave, I’ll bring you with me.” He didn’t understand words, but concepts came through.
His compact, furry body pressed against me for a long moment. Not only wasn’t he purring, he was trembling. The thing he’d labeled as evil had scared him, and very little did. Twenty-pound tomcats don’t balk at much. I waited, offering him space to leave when he was ready. He nuzzled his snout into my neck and licked me with his sandpaper tongue. Seemingly understanding the need for stealth, he jumped down noiselessly and vanished into a different hidey-hole than the one he’d bolted from when I appeared.
I resurrected my warding and walked through a wall until I had a good view of the street. Naturally, I didn’t see anything amiss. We magic-types are pros at hiding ourselves. Taking care to be as unobtrusive as possible, I sent a beam of seeking magic in a full circle.
Aha! There they were. Three mages. Didn’t matter what they were. No one’s magic is as strong as mine. Mother always said it was why those like me were anathema: because we could cut a path through anyone standing in our way. Anger simmered, very near the surface. Those dickwads had frightened my cat, and for what?
So long as I’d kicked the door to that topic open, how had Oberon turned my pet into a tracking device? I hoped he’d done it indirectly, and in a way Midnight never knew he’d been relegated to a minion of the Fae king.
Mortals strolled this way and that. The night was young. Quite young. It was the dinner hour for most folks. Because rents were cheap in this neighborhood, it was usually crowded with casino workers and others who supported Reno’s brisk tourist trade. The congested streets and sidewalks would thin out, but not for a while.
I couldn’t afford to wait that long. Oberon’s thugs were an appetizer. My real work would begin once I’d dispatched them. If I was Draconian enough about it, maybe he’d stop sending lackeys to make my life miserable, and… I rocked back on my heels. I’d met Oberon. Talked with him, signed a contract. Why didn’t he know what I was?
I’d been well-coated in my Witch glamour, but surely the king of the Fae would be powerful enough to see through my disguise. Except he hadn’t. Was that why he’d left Faery? Were his powers on the wane, and he needed to keep it a secret?
His magical connection to Faery might explain why the land was fading. Since they were linked, it would wither right along with him. Excitement thrummed through me. I felt certain I was onto something monumental.
Yeah, plenty monumental. Significant enough for Oberon to kill me himself once he found out I was privy to his secret. The thought brought a savage smile to my face. He might want to, but I seriously doubted he still had what it would take to end me. I’m tough to kill. All immortals are, but I’m more unyielding than most.
Whoa. My inner critic stepped up to the plate. I don’t know anything for certain. Not yet.
She was right, of course. Rather than spinning my wheels in vengeful imaginings, I shifted my focus to the three mages hunkered a hundred yards away as they kept a close eye on the front door to my flat. What a bunch of dumb fucks. I might be teleporting inside. Or using the back door.
Following a hunch, I sidled to the other side of the building and checked to make certain more mages weren’t stationed there. Nope. Just the three I’d sensed from within. Good. I didn’t need any surprises. Edging back to my original position, I considered the humans littering the sidewalk. And all the cars. One of the first rules of magedom is not revealing ourselves to mortals. They suspect we exist, but we’re more the purview of legends and fairytales.
I stifled a snort. Tinkerbelle was a far cry from the Kraken or a herd of rampaging Kelpies. Back in the day, humans understood faeries weren’t all sweetness and light, but then along came Walt Disney, and all bets were off.
Faery’s rules didn’t exactly apply to me. It wasn’t as if I were one of Oberon’s subjects. Neither was I his hired hand any longer. So what if the children chatting up a storm with their parents got an eyeful—one that would give them nightmares for the rest of their lives?
Mmph. Even I’m not that much of a hard ass. What I settled on was risky because it would divert a portion of my power away from the fight, but it was the right things to do, and I’d make it work. It took me a moment to recreate the steps in the time-stopping spell. Once I had it, I chucked it over the street. Motion ground to a halt across a fifty-foot span of asphalt.
Not much I could do about folks on both sides of my casting. Even I don’t carry enough magic to stop the world. However, my spell had one big bonus: my enemies were just as snared as the mortals. Sprinkling don’t-look-here magic about like holy water—in case the mortals beyond the edges my enchantment turned into a bunch of looky-loos, I bounded to where I’d sensed the mages. Sure enough, a wizard, a shifter, and a Sidhe stood, mouths agape. They’d know exactly what was going on, but they were paralyzed.
Part of me—a miniscule part—cringed at how unfair the fight would be. Not a fight at all, but a rout. “I know you can hear me,” I growled and slammed my fist into the wizard’s face. Not the same dude as last night, but I bet they knew each other. His nose broke with a resounding crack. Blood sheeted down his mouth and chin. Reaching inside him, I clipped the moorings of his magical center, setting it free. A small cloud of golden feathery strands rose above him, effectively finishing him as a magic-wielder.
I’d be surprised if he could chase it down and reattach it. Without it, though, he’d just been busted back to mortal.
Next I turned to the Sidhe. A short blast of fire cut off one of his wings. He tried to howl, but couldn’t open his mouth. A pathetic mewling was followed by strings of saliva. The pain was so intense, he wanted to puke, but couldn’t.
“You’re lucky number three,” I told the shifter. “I’m not going to hurt you. Not this time. Go back to Oberon and tell him the next crew he sends against me—or my cat—will come back to him in body bags.”
“Tell him yourself,” a familiar voice ground out.
I spun to face the Fae King. Like I said, I’ve met him before. Tall and regal, he was garbed in a robe of gold and silver cloth embroidered with power words in the form of runes. Hair of spun silver was braided with hundreds of tiny jewels. He turned his patrician face with its high forehead, almond-shaped silver eyes, and thin, cruel mouth my way. The points of his ears had reddened with outrage.
“You heard what I had to say.” I narrowed my eyes. “We’re done. You hired me and fired me, and now you can leave me the fuck alone.”
He shook his head, but his eerie gaze never left mine. “We will never be done. You declared war on me and mine when you chose to speak with Cynwrigg.”
If I’d been smarter, I’d have teleported out of there. I had power to spare, even maintaining my glamour and my time-stopping spell. “You and yours?” I sneered. “That’s rich. Don’t sidestep your role in this by blaming me. Cyn had a right to know you were still alive and kicking. You declared war on
him and all of Faery when you abandoned your people—your subjects—and your land to whatever fate might befall them. No ruler does that.”
“How dare you judge me.” Twin flames of fury reflected in the depths of his eyes, turning them molten.
“Not judging. Stating facts. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a long and busy night ahead of me. Just so we’re clear, leave my cat alone. He’s an innocent, one of the lives you used to be sworn to protect.”
“I didn’t hurt him.”
“How do you know? You mucked around in his head. He might never be the same.” I shook my head. “You’re stalling. I’m not waiting around for the next batch of stooges to show up.”
“Watch it, Witch. I command armies.”
“You used to,” I said oozing sweetness. “Last I checked, they report to Cynwrigg now.”
Oberon’s face darkened, bushy silver brows lowering like thunderclouds. Probably time to exit while the getting was good. He was trying to engage me, hold me in place for something. I had no desire to find out what. In one fell swoop, I dismantled my stop-time casting and leapt through an opening in the air.
I swooshed through my flat long enough to grab Midnight. “You’re not going to like this,” I told him before initiating another teleport spell. “Pretend it isn’t happening.”
Pathetic yowls accompanied us to the foothills of the mountains surrounding Reno as the cat did his damnedest to dig a hole in my arm and shoulder. Luckily, magic is superb for healing superficial injuries. My spell shattered around us. I was breathing hard, not so much from expended effort as from residual anger at Oberon.
What an overbearing prick he was. “Watch it, Witch,” I mimicked in a singsong falsetto before stooping to set the cat on the ground. “Go hunt for mice,” I told him. “I’ll find you when I’m ready to go.” Thoroughly freaked, the cat didn’t wait for a second invitation. He ran as if Hellhounds were on his heels. He’d settle down once the adrenaline ran its course.
I walked to a nearby cliff and splayed my palms against it. Finding the breach had to be a matter of a process of elimination. I’d walk what I thought was one of many perimeters between Earth and Faery, checking every few feet. When I hit a spot that felt different, I’d explore it more deeply. Like as not, I’d locate the rift.
How hard could it be?
Don’t get cocky. My resident critic was back. In this case, she was right. Cyn had been searching for quite some time with zero success. Presumably, he had more affinity for Faery than me. I cleared my mind of debris and my confrontation with Oberon and walked due north.
Every hundred yards or so, I stopped and sent magic auguring into the hillside. Hours passed with each test pinging back the same. I’d dismissed my glamour quite a while back to give myself access to the full spectrum of my power. Granted I’d expended quite a bit with my fancy-schmancy time spell, but it didn’t take much to drill a hole and compare it to every other one I’d bored.
At some point, I felt Midnight running alongside me. There was a bounce to his step that hadn’t been there before, and I was glad he’d gotten past the rude way I jerked him from what he believed was his home. We couldn’t go back there. Hell, I’d be lucky to retrieve my few things without a magical horde breathing down my neck.
“First thing tomorrow,” I promised Midnight, “I’ll find us a new place to live, and I’ll bury it so deep in spells no one will be able to find us.” A glance at a crescent moon and the stars told me it was time to head back. I marked the spot I’d gotten to and loped back to where I’d begun, leaving a beacon there as well. No point in retracing steps I’d already taken.
Scooping up the cat, I whispered in its furry ears. “Once more, buddy. Sorry, but it’s the quickest way.” This time, I layered a calming spell around him. It seemed to do the trick because he was quiescent in my arms. Or maybe he was tired. Running on fight-or-flight chemicals takes it out of you.
I kept a shroud around us when I popped out a block or so from the casino. It turned out I needn’t have bothered. The alley I’d selected was inhabited by sleeping drunks. Should I take the front door or teleport into Lady Luck?
Because I had kitty-man—and he was snoozing against me, all warm and purring—I opted for teleporting. My travel spells are usually spot on. This one was no exception. I shimmied through a wall at the far end of the upper floor. Cyn’s office was only a few feet away. Still cautious, I kept my ward in place and scanned with magic, taking care to resurrect my glamour. Before I’d even peeked inside Cyn’s office, the sound of raised voices told me someone else magical had arrived first.
Eavesdropping is one of the finest avenues to gather information. I heartily recommend it. Still concealed, I listened to a fellow who was presumably an emissary from Faery.
“You have to come home,” he demanded.
“I can’t,” Cyn said. “For once, you’ll have to handle things, Aedan.”
“But the people—your people—are frantic. One of the unicorns gored another. It was an accident, but it freaked everyone out. When unicorns die, it means—”
“That the world is ending. Aye, I know that as well as you.” Cyn blew out a heavy breath before going on. “There’s only one of me. If I leave here, I lose a cover I’ve established for myself, a reason to be here.”
“Fuck that.” Aedan’s tone was shrill. “Be a bum. Why do you need a reason for anything? Oberon’s balls! You’re the prince of Faery.”
“A dying land with a missing liege,” Cyn said dryly. “Go home, Aedan. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“But the unicorn—”
“Draw everyone together. Hold a wake. That will give them something proactive to do.”
“Got it.” Aedan’s tone made it clear he wasn’t pleased.
I felt a blast of Fae power as he left and gave it about ten seconds before I knocked on Cyn’s door.
Rather than relying on magic, he pulled it open and blinked as he stared up and down the hall muttering, “Now I’m hearing things?”
Before he could slam the door in my face, I dropped the ward I’d forgotten about. “Sorry. It’s been a rough night.”
He eyed me with Midnight in my arms. “Tell me you found something. I could use some good news.” He stepped back and motioned me inside.
I shook my head and sketched out how my night had gone.
“You saw Oberon?”
“Yes. It didn’t go well. I suspect his power is on the wane. It happens sometimes if the lore books are to be believed.”
“Why would you think that?” Cynwrigg leaned forward, interest streaming from his blue eyes. Their real color was far more alluring, but I understood why dropping and resurrecting his glamour used more magic that leaving it in place.
“He has no idea I’m not a Witch. That’s your first clue.”
I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t the fierce smile that spread across Cyn’s rugged features. “You may be onto something, Dariyah. When the club closes, we’ll go hunting for him.”
“I thought you were needed in Faery.”
“Oh, you heard that?”
“I did.”
He shrugged. “Eh. Aedan’s more capable than he gives himself credit for. It will be good for him to handle this. Besides, it just means I’ll be a little bit later, not that I won’t show up at all.”
Midnight twisted in my arms to stare at Cyn. After a moment, he resumed purring. “He likes you,” I said.
“All animals do. It’s a Fae thing. We have an affinity for them.” He pointed to a seat. “Take a load off. Let me button up the club for the night, and then we’ll be off.”
“Best offer I’ve had all day.” I sank onto a leather couch and kicked my feet up.
“There’s food in the fridge. Help yourself. I’ll be back soon.”
“Thanks.” Watching him leave, I marveled at how quickly we’d moved from an adversarial dancing around one another to functioning as a team. Or at least not taking one another’s heads off.
“Nothing like a common enemy to forge alliances,” I told the cat who meowed sagely as if he understood exactly what I meant. Moving him off my lap, I walked to the refrigerator and opened it intent on scrounging whatever was there. Who knew when my next meal would be?
Life on the run has taught me a whole lot of shit. Never turning down food or a place to pee were near the top of the list. Smiling at my own wit, I sat next to Midnight and proceeded to share cheese, tuna, and crackers with him. I hadn’t given up on a tryst with Cyn, but it wasn’t looking as likely as it had after the steamy kiss we’d shared. My nostrils twitched. The office smelled like him, and it inflamed all my senses.
“Mrowwww,” was accompanied by a sharp nip.
Laughing, I filched another scrap of tuna and fed it to the cat.
6
Chapter Six, Cyn
I followed my usual pattern of checking on the club, starting with the basement and moving upward. The night had been uneventful; we’d made buckets of cash. Nothing quite like a casino to rake in the dough. A victim of mismanagement and embezzlement, this one had been teetering on the brink of ruin when I’d swooped in and picked it up for a song. Because I hid my acquisition behind a shell corporation, no one knew I owned the joint. They viewed me as the general manager, which was perfect.
It saved me from sorting through business propositions, none of which would have held the slightest interest. Organized crime is a happening thing in Nevada; they have their fingers in lots of pies. Casinos are a perpetual favorite because of the opportunities to blend under-the-table prostitution with games of chance. Both offer nearly endless possibilities for skimming off the top, bottom, and middle.
I didn’t skim, but I paid part of my payroll in cash. Good, old invisible cash. Nothing quite like it. It saved everyone taxwise, including me. As I made the rounds, I parceled out twenties, fifties, and hundreds. The party line was it represented tips. Some of it actually did.