Dark Cotillion (First in the Brenna Strachan Series)

by Hadena James

  “No idea.” I frowned at the wolf that was once again curled up around my feet. “Hopefully, not much longer.”

  “What are your thoughts?” Ba’al asked Anubis.

  “I think they are regrouping and we have a little more time. We should educate her. This shit could be a preview of things to come.”

  “Another war,” Gabriel seemed to lose interest in Anubis momentarily, “I don’t…”

  “We have the cream of the crop,” Anubis cut him off. “A perfect merger, perhaps Magnus is right and it is Divine. The Wolf, The Vampire, The Angel, The Demon, The Gargoyle, and The Witch.”

  “It sounds like a bad movie title.” I smiled slightly.

  “Yes, it does, but we have the five that can sustain the most damage, have the most interesting self-defense mechanisms and have a healer as well as a spell caster in our group. It does seem rather ethereal.”

  “Why not the others?” I asked.

  “Because the rest are more fragile,” Fenrir’s voice came from my feet. “We jokingly refer to them as ‘fragile souls’, but there is a kernel of truth to it.”

  Fenrir had partially shifted back. No goo, no puddles of ooze and flesh, but he was looking distinctly more Human than he had five minutes ago.

  “Fragile souls?” I shook my head. “More confusion.”

  “Yes and no,” Anubis looked at me, his face was set hard. “It is easier to destroy their minds and their souls. Pendragon can do it in about three days. He’s never broken the mind of the others though, and that is why we put all the conspirators of the first war to death. Most of the leaders were from our stock. Pendragon could lock them up and take away their powers, but they could still think logically.”

  “Pendragon breaks their minds?” I closed my eyes, trying not to think of it.

  “Not intentionally, it’s a side effect of being exposed to his magic for a prolonged period of time. Or, rather, exposed to his magic while it is directly focused on you. The mind goes a little soft because it wants to do magic and can’t. Eventually, with enough time, it will break the soul as well.”

  “And that’s better than death?” I asked.

  “Yes, because when they are released, they heal. However, Demons, Vampires, and Lycans, all seem to be immune to the psychological aspects of it. Angels and Gargoyles have a different response.”

  “Different how?”

  “Oh,” Gabriel let go of Anubis entirely, “angels who go to the prison and are subjected to several days of Pendragon’s magic, tear off their wings. The light causes massive damage to the cell and themselves. It takes months for them to heal and the pain seems to be seared into their brain permanently. They never do it a second time. And they don’t seem capable of going crazy from the lack of magic, it’s like they don’t want to use it, so our souls, insisting on survival, don’t require it.”

  “And we turn to stone,” Ba’al added cheerily. “Hard to break the mind of a creature that has turned to stone. We can go in and out of stone form whenever necessary. It isn’t magic that causes it. It’s a transitional state of being for a Gargoyle. Most stone Gargoyles are healing and do it automatically. Young Gargoyles are the worst about suddenly turning to stone.”

  “What about the rest of us, the ones that are immune?” I asked.

  “I don’t feel it,” Anubis said. “I know that I can’t direct my magic and that I don’t have it, but it doesn’t bother me, psychologically. I don’t need to feed on blood or magic or soul energy when I don’t have magic.”

  “Same for Lycans. The need to feed goes away and in some ways, that is our greatest burden. We no longer feel the pull of our animal and therefore, don’t need to feed. It is sort of a relief.”

  “And Demons?” I asked.

  “Well, the Nine are immune to Pendragon’s magic. It does have some effect I suppose on all but Lucifer, but not much. As for Demons as a whole, well, I can’t answer why they don’t go insane. I just know that they don’t. They become very calm, almost serene. I think they are pleased to be rid of the gift of taking pain, considering what they are surrounded by,” Anubis told me. “How do you feel when you are around him?”

  “I don’t feel any different,” I answered.

  “So, you might be immune to him as well.” Anubis seemed to think for a long time. “That would be interesting and useful.”

  “Immune to Pendragon? I don’t think so.”

  “Do you feel like your powers have left you when he’s around?” Gabriel asked.

  “No, but I am a Witch.”

  “That might be why you are immune. You should feel your power…” Gabriel seemed to be searching for the word.

  “Deplete,” Anubis answered for him. “You will feel like you just don’t have the ability to do anything magical when in his presence.”

  “Nope, never felt that,” I answered.

  “Well, another mystery for another time.” Ba’al was standing from the table. “Since dinner was ruined, I say we adjourn to the living room, have a smoke, a drink, and do something hedonistic.”

  “Agreed,” Fenrir walked, or rather, limped into the living room. He still wasn’t fully Human, but he was well into the change. It was odd to watch his staggering gait as he alternated between walking on all four to standing up, and then back to all four.

  “Do you need help?” I asked him, curling up on the couch with a pillow.

  “I imagine I do, but…” Fenrir made a gesture that might have been a shrug, “I don’t have the foggiest how you would be able to help me.”

  “What happens to the goo and whatnot?” I asked, frowning at the floor as the first bit hit the hard wood with an audible plop.

  “It turns to dust.” Anubis knelt down and blew on the blob. It powdered and disappeared into the air. “Great fertilizer.”

  “Okay,” I looked at Gabriel, “any thoughts, Angel?”

  “Many, none that helps our current situation. I was never in charge of assassinations. Just leading troops into battle.”

  “I’d wait a week and then launch into full battle mode, especially, if I wanted to keep my identity anonymous. I wouldn’t strike once a day or wait until night. I’d send wave after wave of creature to attack. Eventually, the group as a whole would weaken enough to allow a chink in the armor to appear, so to speak. Once the chink was exposed, I’d go in and finish the job myself. However, in this case, I’d send a surrogate. Someone or something ruthless, brutal, and intelligent. If I am not conspiring alone, I pick the being that fits the categories the best and send them. If I’m not conspiring, I send a Gorgon.”

  “Like Medusa?” I frowned at Fenrir as he finished speaking.

  “Medusa’s a myth, but yes, the same general idea. They can’t turn people into stones with a look, but they are pretty nasty and have relatively high intelligence levels for an animal species. Dolphins and rats are still smarter, but a Gorgon can use reasoning skills to get her prize,” Fenrir answered me.

  “What’s the prize?” I asked.

  “Your magic,” Anubis answered, holding up a hand to Fenrir, “they drain you of your magic. It’s like a drug for them and one they highly prize. Demons aren’t their preferred breed, but it will do. The ultimate magic they crave seems to come from Djinn. But any magic is like catnip.”

  “This just keeps getting better,” I sighed. “Dragons and Minotaurs and Gorgons, oh my.”

  “Just to name a few,” Fenrir gave me a look. “I wouldn’t stop with just those three. I’d send anything I could bait, lure, trap, trick, or bespell. Dragons, Wyverns, Gorgons, Minotaurs, Sirens, Cerebus, Hydras, Golems, Trolls, Skinwalkers, Humans, Elders, Witches, and anything else on the planet. But that is what I would do, if killing you was my ultimate goal. What Chiron does, well that’s anyone’s guess. He isn’t known for his assassination attempts. He usually just sits around and grumbles. I can’t imagine he is conspiring alone though, so it is possible that someone else has thought of these things.”

  “How do we prepare
to be attacked by every apex predator on the planet?” I let the sarcasm fill my voice.

  “We don’t.” Fenrir dropped another glob onto the floor. “We prepare for only one thing, you.”

  “I don’t intend to attack anyone or anything that doesn’t attack me first. Why prepare for me?”

  “Because you are the target. Know the target and know the attack. For example, if I were going to kill Anubis, I would send only myself. It would be hand-to-hand combat and I would have a back-up plan in place that included Gargoyle Blood. Lucifer though, well, there’s no way to attack him head on, you’d have to pick and choose your attacks. Personally, I’d go after his family first. Once he was blinded with rage, I could start to attack him directly. Every weapon in my arsenal would be dipped in something poisonous and I would have to have something to stop his ability to heal. He heals too rapidly for even Gargoyle blood to work completely. A talisman would be required, I’d have to have a Witch make it, it would have to be forged using Lucifer’s blood and it would require more magic than I think exists on the planet. But that is the only way it could be done with any chance of success.” Fenrir was changing as he finished his sentence. He jerked his head backwards and made a wordless scream. When he had finished, the remaining fur was on the floor. It was enveloped in mountains of gelatinous yuck and he was stark naked.

  “You on the other hand, you’re a loose cannon. I couldn’t risk a frontal assault with my own person without being absolutely positive that you were both completely incapable of using any Demon powers, and that the Overlords were not capable of assisting you. If I could manage that, I could take you out personally. However, that is nearly impossible. You are Maturing and your power is even more unpredictable than your mood swings. So, I don’t do it myself. I send others and other things to do it for me. Things that are powerful and can bring out different weaknesses among different breeds. In other words, I send something that is specifically targeting Demons, one that is specifically targeting Vampires, and so on and so forth. If, and when they retreat, I regroup and restrengthen. I increase their numbers and diversity as well as try to get a couple of Witches in on the deal to increase their magic potential. My first wave is strong enough that you rally your troops. The Call goes out and the Overlords send it as well. Now, I don’t really have to worry about reinforcements because they are all here, all battling. I send Sirens, Wyverns, Minotaurs, and Cerebus, in the first attack. When I bring them back for a regroup, I add as much power and danger as possible. That is when I add Dragons and Gorgons and Trolls and whatever else I can find. I attack again, if they fall back or are forced to retreat, I then add whatever Elders are following my cause. I send them all back in and overwhelm you.”

  “That isn’t an assassination, that’s warfare.” I closed my eyes.

  “No, Bren, that is how you get to someone that is nearly untouchable and not in enough control to have predictable magic.” Fenrir stood up. “It’s chilly; I’m going to get dressed.”

  “Ani?” I asked as Fenrir left the room.

  “I have to admit, it makes sense. While it might sound like an out and out brawl, it is rather calculated and meticulous and has a high level of success probability. Sirens will be a distraction, Cerebus a problem. Both of them at the same time, is a flaw in our design.”

  “I’m pretty much fucked,” I sighed again and lit a cigarette. I couldn’t remember the last time I had smoked one, but now seemed like a good time. “May I have a drink?”

  “Should you be drinking when you can’t control your magic?” Anubis asked me.

  “Don’t you think this situation warrants a drink? In two weeks, do you want to be sitting in the ethereal plane thinking, I should have had that last drink?”

  “Logical, flawed, and tempting,” Anubis stood up. “You may have one and it will have a different impact than when you are Immortal.”

  “Great, break out the good stuff. Dad’s private stash is in the bottom of the liquor cabinet, under a false floor. I believe there are several bottles of scotch that are well over 200 years old.”

  “Perhaps we should save that for when we have all survived.” Anubis grabbed a different bottle.

  “Or we break it out tonight so that we can all say we had one before we die.”

  “Becoming a fatalist?” Gabriel smiled at me.

  “Possibly, or it could just be that the wool is being removed from my eyes. I sort of feel like the entire world sucks.” I was handed a glass of the good scotch. “If I survive the Maturing, we have a whole different Pandora’s Box in front of us. There is the issue of the binding. That will have to be sorted, explored, and understood. There is my brother, The Prophet. The coming of war or some other divine reason for keeping Magnus alive this long. Chiron and his conspirators will need to be dealt with, including my sister. And on top of all that, at some point, I’m going to have to start having sex. The prospects for our futures are all rather bleak.”

  “You might be the only being on the entire planet that thinks the prospect of having sex is bleak,” Fenrir said as he rejoined us. He was wearing a pair of sweat pants and white tube socks. It wasn’t exactly what one expected an eons old Lycan to be lounging around in while we discussed death and drank 200 year old scotch. I couldn’t help but smile.

  “What?” He asked as he took a glass from Anubis.

  “I just realized that we are all a bit ridiculous looking. You are in sweats and tube socks. I’m dressed in yoga pants and a tank-top with house shoes on and not just any house shoes; I’m wearing Tom and Jerry slippers. Gabriel is dressed in a t-shirt and running shorts and sandals that I imagine were created around the same time as the Great Pyramid. Not only that, but the t-shirt is neon green and the running shorts are orange. Anubis is dressed completely in black. Black jeans, black button down shirt, black shoes, I imagine even his socks and underwear are black, which is just odd since the fur on his face is black. Ba’al is wearing a kilt, of all things, and flip-flops. We might actually be the worst dressed people in the history of the world and we are discussing death, sex, and everything in between.”

  “She’s right,” Gabriel grinned, “we might be the worst dressed warriors on the planet or in the annals of history.”

  “But what’s really odd, is that none of us even noticed.” I threw out my arms for emphasis. “Magnus was here and we didn’t notice. Magnus didn’t seem to notice. Normally, you see beings dressed like us, and you wonder if they fell off the fashion train, or if they were violently shoved from it. But we were oblivious. And it wasn’t because of the conjured soul or my death or any of that, somehow, we all managed to go into our clothing stocks and pick out either the worst thing possible or whatever happened to be on top. It’s like we are just at home, hanging out by ourselves, on laundry day.”

  “Are you implying you think magic is involved?” Ba’al frowned.

  “No, I’m implying that we are so comfortable in this little group that it doesn’t matter what we dress like. We are obviously not dressing to impress each other and none of us noticed. How did that cohesion happen? It happened so fast.”

  Ba’al took a deep breath and looked around him. The others did the same.

  “It feels like I am at home, just hanging out with some friends, not a care in the world,” Gabriel finally said.

  “I love my kilt. It was a gift and it is so comfortable,” Ba’al added. “I normally wear it when I’m home alone, hanging out. I feel like I’m at home.”

  “Me too.” Anubis looked at me. “Perhaps that is what it is, we are all at home. Not exactly home in the sense of this house is ours, but in the sense that the five of us together are home for each other.”

  “Four weeks ago, Bren would not have worn that tank top around me or anyone else for that matter,” Gabriel added.

  “That’s just it; I don’t wear it around anyone. I wear it when I’m at home. Somehow, in the last 36 hours or so, we have become not five individuals, but one unified group.”

 
Fenrir looked at Anubis and then at me. He narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils.

  “It happened when you died,” he finally said. “I don’t think I felt it when it did happen, but looking back, it happened when you died. We became a unit. We all came together to save your life and bring you back from the grip of death. That is when it happened.”

  “Probably,” Gabriel sat down. “I don’t remember the feelings associated with it, except fear, panic, and dread.”

  “I felt something else, but I was in wolf form,” Fenrir responded. “I felt something akin to…” He shrugged.

  “Akin to nothing I’ve ever felt. Truly awe-inspiring. I felt connection.” Fenrir finally finished his thoughts. “I haven’t felt connected to anyone in hundreds of years.”

  “So, tonight we have a drink and wear awful clothing, tomorrow we might consider being a little more fashion conscious. I’d hate for the Overlords to get a reputation because they dress oddly around me.” I took my first whiff of the amber liquid. It smelled like fire and something else, something wonderful. I took a sip and felt it burn on the way down. Not a lot, just a tingle really and it was not unwelcome. The tingle was coupled with the revelation that I was sitting on a couch, looking at my future and for the first time, I wasn’t terrified. I was overjoyed. I would spend eternity in this company. I would enjoy their mood swings, odd humor, and interesting habits. They would annoy the hell out of me from time to time, but that was to be expected. More importantly though, whatever hell, trials, and tribulations that the future held, would be faced standing alongside these men. While our lives were intertwined, it went deeper, our very souls were joined together, what happened to them would happen to me and vice versa. That was a future that held prospect, hope, understanding, and so many other things.

  “Why are you smiling now?” Ba’al asked me as I took another drink.

  “I’m not afraid. I’m not just my father’s daughter. I’m not just my mother’s daughter. I’m Brenna Nichneven Strachan, Demon and Witch, and bound for eternity to damaged Overlords who will fill me with pleasure, pain, irritations, and joy. And that knowledge is powerful enough that whatever the future holds for me, I’m not afraid of it.”