Conah set the tray down on a nearby table. “You okay?” He peered at me with concern.
“I’m good.” I held Wren out. “Fix him.”
“I can’t.” Conah gently took Wren from me, carried him to a nearby sofa, and set him down on it. “This isn’t something to be fixed. We need to keep him warm and let his body do its thing.”
“And what thing is that?”
“Metamorphosis from infant to teen.”
“Wren’s an infant?”
Conah smiled at me indulgently. “Well in mogwai years, yes. There are three stages to mogwai development, but most mogwai never make it to the final stage.” His expression sobered. “The fae began culling this species a long time ago because in their fully grown form they’re vicious predators.”
Wren? A vicious predator. “Bullshit.”
Conah pressed his hand to my shoulder. “Cora, you can’t keep him. We need to take him back to faerie.”
“Take him back? To that shitty place where he’d been used and abused? Um, let me think about that…No.”
“He can’t stay here,” Conah said firmly.
Like hell. “You don’t know him. You don’t know what he’ll be like when fully grown.”
Conah gave me a sympathetic look. “Yes, I do. He’ll be a monster. He’ll kill everyone in this mansion and then he’ll move on to everyone outside it. Back in the day, mogwai were responsible for whole fae villages disappearing.”
I didn’t want to believe this. Wren was sweet and kind and I fucking loved the little tyke. It was like Conah telling me my baby was gonna grow up to be a serial killer. But Conah knew stuff. This was his superpower.
Still, I wasn’t ready to accept his words. “How do you know all this?”
“I read about it a long time ago.”
“And you believe it? Pfft. You can’t believe everything you read.”
The corners of his mouth dimpled. “You’re not thinking straight right now, Cora.”
“I’m thinking perfectly straight. Arrow straight. Wren saved my life. He would never hurt me or anyone else.”
Conah frowned. “He saved your life?”
“Yeah, he leaped onto a revenant’s face to protect me and told me to run. He almost died.”
The silver threads were slowly covering my furry friend’s body like a cocoon.
Conah crouched by Wren. “That isn’t typical mogwai behavior. They’re inherently selfish. Did you know they have a siren song when they’re infants? They use it to lure prey into a trance to make it easier to consume?”
The song he’d sung to the children, and he’d hated doing it. “Conah, I know Wren. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“Hmmm, his behavior is uncharacteristic for a typical mogwai.”
I studied Conah expectantly.
He sighed. “Leave him with me. The metamorphosis can take a couple of days. I’ll keep an eye on him. We can see what his personality’s like as a teen and take it from there, but keep this between us for now. I’m not sure how the other residents will take the news. It could be a case of expel him and ask questions later.” Conah looked across at me. “And Cora, be prepared for the Wren you know to be gone. The metamorphosis will change not only his body but his brain chemistry too.”
I reached out and stroked Wren’s paw, the only part of him not covered in the silver threads.
“I love you, Wren. Stay with me, buddy. Please.”
Conah insisted I eat breakfast with him. My stomach was in knots, but he was right. I’d need to keep my strength up for training and for Wren. The eggs, bacon, and sausages went down well, and before we knew it, we were on to coffee and Wren was totally cocooned.
“He’s safe.” Conah covered my hand with his and squeezed in gentle reassurance. “It’s everyone else we need to worry about.”
I didn’t want to think about that. We’d worry about it once he came out of his metamorphosis. “How’s the translation going?”
If he was thrown by the change in topic, he didn’t show it.
“Good. Interesting.” He pushed the breakfast tray aside and drew a sheaf of papers covered in neat script toward us. “The Sons of Adam have an interesting history. I read bits and pieces before sending the book to you with Jasper, but now that I’m combing through it and cross-referencing with passages I’ve found in Lilith’s journals, I’m not so sure what’s fact and what’s fiction.”
“Like what?”
“There are notes about the multiverse and parallel timelines in Lilith’s journal, but her handwriting is a frenzied scrawl, as if she couldn’t keep up with her thoughts, and I can’t make out much of it. She mentions the name Vlad.”
“The Impaler?”
“I don’t know. And something about anomalies and undying, and here we have the word eternal. She says something about guardians, and there’s a binding spell in here too. It’s a mess.”
“Undying? You think she was referring to the Sons of Adam?”
“She must have been, but the funny thing is she only mentions the phrase ‘Sons of Adam’ a couple of times. Vlad is mentioned on several pages.”
“Jasper told me he overheard Anna use the name Mordecai when referring to the Sons of Adam.”
“No mention of that name in her journal, but he’s mentioned in the other book.”
“And no clue if they can be killed?”
Conah sighed. “I’m beginning to think that the only reason she kept them alive was because she couldn’t kill them.”
“That makes no sense. Everything that lives can die. It’s the balance of nature.”
“I think these creatures exist outside of our realm of understanding.”
“But they’re products of demon and human couplings, right? Descended from Lilith and Adam’s bloodline?”
“There’s nothing in her journal to confirm that,” Conah said. “But this book.” He held up the slender, leather-bound tomb Jasper had brought for me. “This tells us they’re fraternal triplets who spawned the vamp race we know today.”
“And Lilith let them live because she couldn’t kill them?”
“I don’t know why she let them live. And I can’t be certain that they can’t be killed.”
“But they only attack at night, so they must be weaker in the day, right?”
“That’s what we can assume.”
That was something. “So maybe we apply the classic vampire lore from the Stoker books and film. Stake through the heart, decapitation or burning.”
“All things Lilith could have done. All things the coven could consider.” Conah shook his head. “No, I think there’s more to it.”
Fuck. “I need to know what we’re up against, Con.”
“Powerful ancient beings with celestial blood and no known weakness aside from what the coven did to them.”
“Drew from them to create Croatoan’s prison, and even that didn’t kill them.” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “But… it weakened them for centuries…” My gaze flicked up to lock with Conah’s sapphire one as an idea bloomed in my mind.
Conah’s eyes lit up.
Yeah, he was on the same page.
“If we could weaken them again…” we both said in unison, then grinned at each other.
“We need to find out what spell the coven did all those centuries ago,” Conah said.
Urgh. “Pretty sure all accounts of how the first elders locked Croatoan away, including the spell, were lost in the east wing fire.”
“Shit. It’s a shame witches don’t live for centuries.”
No, they didn’t, but… I sat up straighter as an idea occurred to me. “The ghosts of the witches who did the spell are still here. The original elder council.”
Conah leaned in toward me. “Then we ask them.”
“They’re not exactly with it, you know? Their minds are cloudy and confused, but maybe there’s a—”
“Spell to sharpen their minds.” He smiled. “Or I use my ability.” He held up his hands.
Oh, God, yes. Conah could get into a person’s or spirit’s mind and read their memories.
I pushed back my chair. “We need to speak to Anna. Now.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“No,” Anna said. “Absolutely not.”
She stood behind her desk, fingers steepled on the wooden surface, a slight frown flirting with her brow. Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind her, catching the auburn highlights in her dark hair and setting them on fire.
I stared at her. “Why not?”
“Like I explained to Sloane this morning, the elder ghosts are fragile. The fire that took their lives was no normal fire. It was enchanted, and it burned not only their bodies but their memories too. We believe the Order was responsible. The fire is believed to be revenge for what we did to their leader Croatoan, and an insurance policy that we could never replicate the act.”
“They believe he’ll be free,” Conah said.
Anna nodded slowly. “Yes. And by destroying the witches who locked him away and burning both their memories and written accounts of how the act was achieved, they ensured that if he did get free, we’d be at a distinct disadvantage.”
So, that had been the reason for the fire. “But Meredith said she remembered something.”
Anna sighed and straightened. “Residual memories. Incomplete. She says the same things over and over from time to time, but there is nothing more. There never is. I spoke to her today and she doesn’t recall waking you or siphoning from you.” Her mouth tightened. “I’m sorry about that. In hindsight, putting you in the east wing was a bad idea. I’ve spoken to Sloane, and you’ll be bunking with her until you return to the cabin. We’ll have a new room set up for your next visit.”
If the elder ghosts’ memories had been burned away by a warlock spell, then there would be nothing for Conah to find.
I looked up at the reaper. “It was a good plan.”
“I’ll keep translating the journal,” Conah said. “There could still be a clue in there, some way to weaken the original vamps, or hurt them. Some way we can ward them off permanently.”
Anna’s smile was determined. “We won’t let them have you, Cora. I promise you, we’ll—”
There was a fizz and pop and then an envelope materialized on Anna’s desk. Silver smoke curled into the air from the cream paper.
Anna exhaled. “Finally.”
“What is it?” Conah asked.
“A message from the silent sisters.”
The silent sisters had helped put Croatoan away. “The silent sisters must know the spell used to siphon power from the Sons of Adam.”
Anna sighed and picked up the envelope. “The silent sisters were my first point of contact once Dimitri came into the picture. I asked them about the spell used all those years ago. They have no record of it. They were merely called upon to use the power to craft Croatoan’s prison. The spell itself was performed by the elder council at that time.” She deftly slit it open to pull out the note. She scanned it, her brow furrowing, before her gaze shot up to meet mine.
I didn’t like the surprise on her face. “What is it? Do they have the glamour?”
“Yes, they have it. And they’re ready for it to be picked up.”
Okay... “So why do you look worried?”
“Because they’re very specific about who collects.”
Oh boy, was she going to say what I thought she was going to say?
“They want you, Cora.”
Yep. She said it. The idea of heading to a maximum-security supernatural prison made my lungs tight with claustrophobia. But the glamour was important, and if this was the only way to get it, then so be it.
“Fine. I can leave right away.” I fingered the amulet around my neck. “I’d jump there, but I get the impression it’s quite far from here.”
Since becoming the anchor, making jumps was easier, but the amulet still muted my powers so jumping too often or too far was still a drain.
“No need.” Anna shook the envelope and a silver coin fell out. “They sent a portal.” She flicked the coin toward the wall. It turned heads over tails and then there was a flash of light and a silver door appeared. It stood a foot away from the wall, disconnected to anything. “It’ll take you to Blackmore. They’ll be expecting you.”
“I’m going with you.” Conah’s sapphire eyes were bright with concern.
“You can’t.” Anna frowned. “The portal won’t admit a demon, but I’d prefer you not to go alone, Cora. Take Sloane with you. She’s been to Blackmore before.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed Sloane.
She answered on the second ring. “Miss me already, cupcake?”
My pulse kicked up at the sound of her voice. I cleared my throat. “How about we play hooky and head to Blackmore to pick up a glamour?”
She was silent for a long beat. “Where you at?”
“Anna’s office.”
“I’ll be there in ten.”
Sloane arrived at Anna’s office a few minutes later and her gaze zeroed in on the portal door.
“Nice,” she drawled. “Beats driving.”
Conah didn’t look too convinced. “Mobile portals can be unstable. Are you sure this is safe?”
“The sisters wouldn’t put the anchor in danger,” Anna replied.
Sloane opened the door to reveal a swirling purple miasma of light, then held her hand out to me. “Shall we?”
I slipped my palm into hers. “Let’s do this.”
We stepped into the light.
I expected the shattering sensation that came with a jump, or a sense of being undone and reassembled, but there was no sense of displacement. One moment I was in Anna’s study and the next I was standing on gray flagstones in a small courtyard surrounded by high walls topped with iron spikes. The sky above was a churning mass of angry gray clouds.
Sloane squeezed my hand before letting go. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I scanned the empty courtyard. There were a couple of benches and a dried-up fountain but nothing more.
“This is where the sisters get some air,” Sloane said. “Come on.”
“How often have you been here?”
“Used to play courier for Anna all the time.” She arched a brow my way. “I’m usually the one they ask for.”
She led me to a door that looked like it was made of wood and iron, and at least a foot thick. There was a heavy knocker in the shape of a torch. Sloane lifted it then slammed it onto the metal, but there was no sound.
“Okay, that’s weird.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “There are a lot of weird features to this place.”
“Have you any idea why they’d ask for me to pick up the glamour?”
“Curiosity?” She raked me over. “Maybe they want to probe your mind to make sure you’re not going to go nutso like Charlotte.”
Wait, what? “Are you serious?”
She rolled her eyes. “Chill, cupcake. If they want to probe you, they’ll have to go through me.”
The grate of metal on metal cut through the silence—a lock being disengaged—and then the door was pulled open, revealing gloom lit by flickering light.
An oval face framed with unruly dark curly hair peered up at us. Wide brown eyes, a thin mouth, and a straight nose, the woman studied Sloane then me, nodded, and stepped back to admit us.
“Nice to see you too, Gertie,” Sloane said. “Been a while.”
Her voice seemed to echo in the silence. The woman winced with her eyes, as if the sound of Sloane’s voice was painful.
Sloane put her finger to her lips and mouthed, Sorry.
I leaned in and whispered, “How do you know her name? I thought they didn’t speak?”
“I don’t. I just call her that. She loves it.”
The woman frowned, then turned her back on us and hurried away down the corridor.
“And now we follow,” Sloane whispered.
The silent sister led the way down a narrow sto
ne corridor. Sconces lit the way, flames turned low, but even with the fire, the air was chill and damp. The silence was heavy and complete. My heels made no sound as they connected with the flagstones, and every breath was muted. The place was a maze of closed doors emblazoned with glowing silver runes. Each door had an eye hatch and brass plaque with a name etched into it. Names I didn’t recognize until…
Penelope Grimswood.
I stopped and pulled open the hatch to peer inside. A figure sat cross-legged on a bed, staring straight ahead with milky white eyes.
Penelope.
Except this wasn’t Penelope.
This figure was gaunt and had no irises.
What the fuck?
Sloane gently pulled me away from the door and closed the hatch. She shook her head and then slid a glance toward the silent sister, who was glaring at us, obviously pissed.
“What’s wrong with her?”
The witch winced again, and then turned on her heel and strode off.
Sloane sighed. “Probably should have said do not touch anything.”
We jogged to catch up to the witch, the sound of our footsteps being swallowed by whatever spell was on this place.
The silent sister led us through an arch, then up a flight of worn stone steps. She pushed open a wooden door at the top and hurried into a large room saturated in sunlight. My eyes stung for a moment as they adjusted from the gloom.
We were in a circular chamber with a domed glass ceiling. The sun shone, liquid light, down into the room through a gap in the angry clouds. A gap that looked like it had been punched into the sky by a ginormous fist.
Thirteen women sat at a long table in the center of the room, faces tipped back to soak in the sunlight. Their hands were on the table in front of them.
They dropped their chins in unison as we entered the room. Sloane stepped closer to me in a protective gesture. God, she was sweet, but I could handle myself. Just fine.
I scanned their faces, dark-haired, pale, brown-eyed, all except one—a redhead with startling green eyes that looked unreal. She locked gazes with me and then raised a hand to beckon me forward.
“Go on, cupcake,” Sloane said softly.
Witch Undecided: The Thirteenth Sign Book 2 Page 15