by Lauren Dane
“You performed magic on our ground tonight,” he said.
His eyes were black as the midnight sky and just as endless as she looked into them. “I performed magic tonight, yes. But not on your ground. On ground held by a witch who’d broken our laws. I don’t need your permission to perform any working necessary to achieve my ends.”
The right corner of his mouth tipped up ever so slightly. “That’s an interesting perspective.”
“We already told you we were on a hunt. We had your leave to be on Devil territory if we had to be,” Rowan said.
Darius looked to her and then down at Star.
He did smile then as he went to his haunches and held his hand out. He spoke in a language so old Genevieve didn’t recognize it.
Star wagged her tail and moved to him, letting him pet her.
Rowan kept a beady eye on him, which amused Genevieve greatly. Her friend had a healthy fear of the Dust Devils but when it came to her dog, she was protective, even in the face of that fear.
“When did you come to live with Rowan, little one?” he asked then in English.
“A few days ago,” Rowan said.
Star yipped, licking Darius’s face before letting the other Devils pet her. That had to have said something to Rowan about the intent of the Devils. If they meant harm, it would have happened by that point and most certainly it would have occurred before a bunch of scary looking men nearly fell over themselves to pet Star.
“Why are you here waiting?” Genevieve asked Darius.
“We felt you. You connected with our land, didn’t you realize that?”
Genevieve couldn’t argue. She had felt it, had recognized the way the magic in the air had not only welcomed her, but jumped to help out when she’d begun to work her spells.
“Was that Devils magic then? That seemed to awaken for me?” She didn’t think so.
Darius cocked his head slightly. “You should have said you were a salt witch.”
Rowan’s body stiffened at the words. Just for a brief moment, but it was there.
“I’m what?” Genevieve asked, keeping very calm.
“I see. You don’t know.”
“I hate riddles,” she told him, annoyed he knew something about her power that she didn’t.
Darius wore an amused expression, even as he seemed to emanate an otherworldly sort of energy. For a moment, the voices that had begun to return quieted, seeming to lean toward him. Genevieve didn’t know if she should be thrilled or concerned.
“There’s much to discuss, Genevieve. Will you give me your time?” he asked, the bass of his voice rumbling through her body.
“Not without me she isn’t,” Rowan said.
“You’re not necessary to this,” Darius told her.
Rowan, Goddess bless her, snorted. “Says you. It’s what Genevieve says that matters.”
“Your friend is very loyal as well as brave,” Darius told Genevieve.
“That’s what a friend does,” Genevieve said. “I’m going to have a meal with her and then we’re going back to Las Vegas. I know you’re aware of where I’m living currently. You may come see me tomorrow after eleven. I’ll be sleeping until then.”
Normally she would have jumped right on getting to hear all sorts of new information but her gut told her it should wait and Genevieve had learned long ago that it was imperative to listen to her intuition.
He didn’t look satisfied with being brushed off, but he stepped back and inclined his chin slightly. “I will see you then.” He nodded at Rowan and then to Star before he and the others got back on their bikes and set off into the night, leaving them behind.
“That was interesting,” Genevieve said as they headed back to the car.
“Interesting is one of those words that can mean bad stuff too. Why did you put him off until tomorrow? If you’d asked me to, I would have left. I just didn’t want him thinking he got to make decisions about you without your input.”
Her friend was indeed loyal as well as brave.
“I thank you for that. It just felt right to have him tell me tomorrow in a different place.”
Rowan looked around at the night all around them. “Like you’re worried about something overhearing?”
Genevieve realized it was exactly that.
“Yes. My house is warded and safe from prying eyes and ears. And daylight is better.”
Rowan shrugged, clearly not knowing what to make of that part, so they took off.
Genevieve smoked a bowl and leaned back against the seat closing her eyes. “I don’t feel much up to a meal right now. Can you please just take me home?” The thought of being in public just then wasn’t a very happy one. She wanted to go home, get in her bed and see if she could sleep. Maybe when she awoke she’d have some answers. Because right then all she had was a lot of questions and a headache.
“Of course.” Rowan hesitated. “Can I do anything to help? There are some high protein bars in the center console. I just put them in before we left.”
* * *
After dropping Genevieve off at the hotel she was living in until her house was ready, Rowan headed back home once she was assured Lorraine, Genevieve’s cook and keeper, would take care of her friend. Genevieve seemed more tired than sick, which was heartening. Even if she was dying to know what was up between her and Darius.
But then she came around that last curve in the road and there it was. Her—their—house was lit up and seemed to greet her as she cruised up the drive, the gates sliding closed at her back.
Now that she thought about it, she realized they were iron gates and wondered if they provided any protection against the Fae. Or even if she needed to be protected.
She shook it off, tucking it away on her never ending to do list, as she parked and headed back out to the front of the house.
Something made a lot easier when Clive was there, opening the front door to greet her. Star sniffled around his legs and then the front entry until she scampered off, in search of food most likely.
Handsome as usual but clearly out of sorts and pissy that she’d been out and about dealing with dodgy characters like rogue witches and Dust Devils without him.
“I’m starving. Yell at me in the kitchen,” she told Clive after she tiptoed up to kiss his cheek.
“You can’t just come in like that,” he said, following her.
“I can. I did. Don’t poke at me tonight, Clive. Don’t you have a job to be at right now?” Rowan called back over her shoulder.
“You texted me that you were having some sort of confrontation with Dust Devils out in the middle of the desert and I’m not supposed to poke at you?” He was in full Scion mode at that point. She heard the fear under his angry delivery and didn’t punch him in the sac.
“I could have not said anything at all. A year ago I wouldn’t have.” She kept walking because when she was hungry she was twice as bitchy.
Elisabeth was there in the kitchen like an angel of mercy. She pointed to the table. “Sit. I put together a quick salad for you to eat while I finish dishing up the pasta I made.”
“Thank you,” Rowan told her as she sat, tearing into the surprisingly hearty salad full of chunks of tomato, cucumber, red onion and feta cheese. It didn’t hurt that the bread to go along with it appeared to be fresh pita Elisabeth had probably made herself.
Clive, not to be deterred, sat across from Rowan and glowered at her.
“Look, I didn’t say some sort of confrontation. I texted you that a very powerful witch and I were having a parley with the Dust Devils. I told you the turnoff. I even texted you when we left that all was well,” she said.
The aforementioned pasta was linguine with pesto and grilled shrimp and it was ridiculously good.
“You take me with you when you rush off into the middle of nowhere to have battles with witches
or Devils,” he said, biting off each word like it was bitter.
“No, I really don’t. I mean, sometimes that happens and I appreciate the backup. But most of the time it doesn’t. You have your own job. I have my own job. If I need backup I take it. And I did. In this case it was Genevieve. You’re a Vampire. I need you for Vampire shaped problems. You’d have been useless tonight with this crazy ass witch we dealt with. On the other hand, if you’ll stop tantruming now, I can tell you what happened.”
He had the audacity to snarl at her. She simply rolled her eyes and kept eating until he calmed down and asked, nicely, what had happened.
Sort of nicely.
Rowan caught him up with the earlier part of the day, the finding of the aliases and the land deed and the decision to drive out to Patrizia’s to see what they could see.
“You should have waited.”
Rowan made a shushing motion, tapping her fingers to her thumb. Very close to his face. “Okay, I can see there are some misperceptions I need to clear up. I understand that you want to come with me when I’m in the field. That’s sweet and adorable. But I work in the field. My job is inherently dangerous but—as I said—I was with backup. I nearly always travel with backup these days. You have a job. I trust you to do it even though if I were there with you, I’d be beating the shit out of Vampires to get them to obey. You’re not my partner in some Starsky and Hutch sort of way. I mean, I’d kill in some vintage clothing and a cool car, but we each have work responsibilities that don’t involve the other most of the time. I cannot, no, I won’t deal with this sort of thing every time I go out to work.”
His mouth firmed into a line and he didn’t say anything else while she finished up her dinner and took her dishes to the sink to rinse them and put them in the dishwasher.
She went outside with Star for a few minutes until Clive joined her.
“I’m sorry. I worry about you,” he said.
“I know. I worry about you too. It sucks. We’re both strong people but for whatever reason that puts a target on our backs. I keep you updated. That’s more than I’ve done with anyone else. Ever.”
He took her hand. “I know. That means a great deal. I hate it when you’re out there and I know there are powerful beings trying to kill you at every turn.”
She laughed. “I hate that too. But I’m hard to kill. You know that for a fact.”
“Don’t let yourself get killed, Rowan. I mean it. I will be exceptionally vexed if you do.”
“Not that! Vexed? Totally outside your normal reactions.”
He harrumphed. “Tell me the rest of what happened. Please.”
Rowan told him about how they’d found the place warded and that Genevieve had torn a big hole for them to drive right up to the front door through. She told him about the battle and how Genevieve had kicked ass with the help of the ambient magic in the air. And she told him about Patrizia and Lyr and the former’s belief that the latter was going to rule over humans with her at his side.
As if.
“And the topper is that the Devils came out to meet us at some crossroads on their big old mean motorcycles and Darius, their leader or whatever, told Genevieve she was a salt witch and she had no idea what he meant. And they eye fucked one another. So. That happened.”
“I’ve never heard of a salt witch,” he said without commenting on the eye fucking.
“Me either. Since Darius is going to see her, I’m hoping she’ll update me on whatever it is he says. I bet she’s going to start researching it on her own anyway. But it connects with my dream, that’s for sure.”
Clive stared up at the sky a while. “And the iron being a connection to the Fae? I should have thought of that myself. I just haven’t dealt with any Fae in several centuries.”
“I don’t know for sure about the iron part being about the Fae, but at this point I’m leaning that way. I guess we’ll see. We have more questions than answers. But that balance is slowly changing.”
“Not fast enough for my liking,” he said. “The Fae are very powerful. And they do not have a human sensibility. At all. They’re not an enemy I relish taking on.”
“Me neither. So let’s hope that’s not the case. Was this like a Vampire army against an army of Fae? Because that sounds like a novel I read.”
“The very few Fae I’ve dealt with were solitary or in groups of three or less. No armies. Rogues, if I recall correctly. There was no cause for battle. They kept to their own ends and we to ours. But we kept an eye on them the way anyone would a predator. That was at least three hundred years ago.”
She said, “Well, let’s look on the bright side. If this is a Faerie, it’ll most likely just be one or two. Maybe three. But no army. I hope.” He growled and she laughed. “Come on. Let’s go inside. I want to shower and probably serve your sexual needs and then go to sleep. I am wrung out.”
“If I must,” he said, pulling her to him to kiss her before releasing her and following her into the house, Star at their heels.
Chapter Twenty-One
Genevieve had a difficult time sleeping when she got home from Patrizia’s so she’d given in and gotten up, wandering the hotel suite she was staying in until the house she’d rented was ready for her.
She’d tried a book and had put it aside after a few chapters. Nothing on television appealed. She wasn’t hungry.
Just restless.
So she’d ended up on her laptop, searching through the Conclave archives on everything they had gathered concerning the Fae and Faerie.
What they’d uncovered the night before with Patrizia had the ability to change everything she knew. Not just the salt witch thing, but the chance that the Fae might have begun traveling back to this side of the Veil with murder on their minds.
The Fae were best left on the other side of the Veil, not thinking about humans. That much she put together as she researched. Her limited experience with them was still enough to make her wary.
Wariness was good when it came to dealing with very powerful beings. She was one herself and she knew that to be true. The older she got, the more she learned, the more she felt just a little bit more estranged from humanity.
The last thing she wanted was to be like her father. Locked up in a tower, looking down at humanity without much empathy in his heart. He’d lost touch and that made him a threat to humans in a way they simply couldn’t even imagine.
Thankfully, he spent more time looking for arcane magics to learn and wield than plotting any sort of revolution against humanity. He understood they needed protecting. But from his perspective it was only to keep the paranormals safe.
It was better when the humans didn’t get worked up. Better for everyone. Even though there were less of them than humans, if a war came now, it would be a bloody rout.
Because small numbers were one thing, but incredible power most humans couldn’t meet was another.
When she’d finished looking up the Fae, she turned her research toward salt witches. And didn’t find much. Interestingly enough, what she did find was connected to the Fae, who used salt witches way back once upon a time.
The records were old and not entirely complete, so they didn’t say what for or why. Genevieve hoped Darius would probably know and share since he was coming over to talk with her about it.
Why it was him also filled her with worry. What did it have to do with the Dust Devils, anyway?
She made herself some tea and by the time the sun rose, she’d gotten sleepy enough to conk out on the couch until Lorraine woke her up some hours later.
“It’s nearly eleven. If he’s coming you should be ready,” Lorraine said. “At the very least run a brush through your hair and wash your face. I’m going to make a brunch.”
She left Genevieve in the living room, trying to shake off sleep so she could stumble into the shower and make herself presentable for her visi
tor.
Normally, Genevieve didn’t get exhausted. She might get tired enough to sleep, but using her magic didn’t stress her system. In fact it quite often left her energized. But she was a little sore as she stood under the shower jets and wondered why.
Maybe she was getting old enough that she’d get aches and pains just from living. But she doubted it.
Even as she changed into clothes—admittedly cute ones because Darius was gorgeous and he made her feel things she hadn’t in a long time—she thought about what she’d found through her research.
From a very early age, she’d understood that knowledge was currency. If you had a skill others didn’t you could use it to make a living. Or to teach others how to use it. Collecting knowledge had become a lifetime mission. It built up her power and it strengthened her position the more she was able to use it in her own magic. To protect and defend. To edify and like the night before, when it was necessary, to destroy what would otherwise destroy others.
It gave her a thrill to know she was going to learn more. That she herself was more than she thought.
When the doorbell rang, Genevieve waved Lorraine off and answered it herself. Darius stood there with a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a thick, very old book tucked under the other arm.
The ropes of his locs had been tied back, away from his face. Exposing the beauty there to the fullest. His eyes weren’t quite as dark as they’d been the night before. Deep brown, fringed by thick lashes. High cheekbones and a mouth that was usually set in a stern line but was full and lush. He was tall. Well over six feet. Broad shoulders, biceps and forearms that told her he worked with his hands. Really nice, big, strong hands.
He’d been in his biker gear the other times she’d seen him. Ruggedly casual right down to the leather vest and beat up jeans. But that day he wore jeans, boots and a T-shirt that stretched lovingly over his chest.
Genevieve realized she’d been staring and stepped back, indicating he come inside.
He nodded slightly and then thrust the flowers at her. “It’s always good to bring something when you visit,” he said.