by Jamie Hawke
“Fake.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah… the guy I introduced you to was some guy they brainwashed or something, the woman one of the witches with the coven I was staying in. Part of me thinks the dark version of myself felt at home, since I…” She stopped, glanced out the window, and said, “Can we get going?”
“I want to hear—”
“I’ll keep talking, but think I saw someone watching us. Move it.”
No need to explain. I high-tailed it out of there, moving over toward Constitution Avenue first, as I figured the others would be less likely to cause trouble near the White House and all the security there.
“Shit, is the President…?” I started, the thought hitting me.
“A magic user?” She shook her head. “He wishes. But, a lot of the Secret Service are.”
“No way.”
“They have to be, especially when it comes to protecting against foreign dignitaries who do use magic.”
“Mind-blowing.” I glanced over, then back in the rearview mirror. No signs of trouble. “You were saying, before?”
“About my situation…” She put her hand on mine and squeezed. “Honestly, I don’t know. Was there a version of me that had parents? Laughed, played with siblings and all that? I wish I knew.”
“The memories were stolen?”
She ran her thumb along the back of my hand, considering. “I don’t think so. This feels different. Like… I simply forgot.”
I turned, but had to slam on the breaks as a light turned red. Glancing back again, I asked, “Are we in the clear?”
“Maybe I imagined it, I’m not sure.”
“You have a family now.” The words sort of spilled out, but as corny as they felt on my end, she was smiling at me.
“Thank you.”
The light turned a moment later, and we were off, making our way toward Georgetown and along Reservoir Road. We had asked for directions and been shown a map on the checkout lady’s phone at Macy’s, and since I had been able to use my powers to scan it, I had what was pretty much a GPS screen up beside me. Convenient, that.
Steph leaned back and closed her eyes. I glanced over, unable to ignore the way the dress pushed up her small breasts to make them appear not so little. I was humored by her lack of makeup and the boots that were not at all in the style of the dress, but somehow, she made it work.
“Do you think Aerona hates me?” Steph asked,
“Of course not.”
“I’ve noticed the way she looks at me. And you.”
I frowned. “And me?”
“She’s not certain, far as I can tell. Still trying to decide whether or not to trust you.”
“Well, if you get a chance to put in a good word…”
Steph chuckled. “Sure. With the girl who hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“No need to keep your eyes open on my account,” I said, watching her yawn.
She held her hand over her mouth, then took my hand on hers. “Sleep… sure means something else lately, doesn’t it? What with traveling in dreamland or whatever it is you do, and… so much company.”
“You miss the old days?”
She chuckled. “When I was a big fraud?”
“When you weren’t yourself. When you were controlled by someone else.”
“Right. That was… not optimal.” She pulled my hand close, kissing it. “No, I love what we have now. Back then, I didn’t have friends. Even before they took me, I never had girl friends, not like this. And they’re more than that, of course. This is a family. Something else I have had.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” I said.
“Perfect.”
As that last word rolled out of her mouth, Steph was asleep, out of it the moment I crossed into Georgetown. The drive was beautiful, and as much as I had loved having air conditioning during the day, right then I wanted to roll the window down and feel the evening air on my face. Since it would possibly wake Steph, I didn’t, instead opting to bob my head to a song playing in it. Some old ditty I’d heard once at a school party.
Passing the Georgetown bars with crowds of young college guys and girls, I was reminded how my life had taken a swift turn, and how it was never likely to be anywhere near the experience they were having or about to have. Mine was probably a thousand times better, in some ways, and a thousand times worse in others.
The sun had set, darkness taking over, and the loud thumping of bass carried through from one of the bars. I turned past a French restaurant, eyed the organic ice cream shop at the next corner, and soon pulled up along with lots of other cars next to the Embassy.
A glance out showed that this wasn’t simply some dinner event, but a full-blown party. I also noted that our outfits weren’t necessary. While some of the attendees entering the gates wore fancier clothes than ours, others sported jeans and t-shirts without worry.
“We’re here?” Steph asked, groggily.
“Yeah, but you can sleep a little more. I’ll be here, next to you.”
“Staring at me while I sleep, I bet.” She hit me. “No thanks, creep.”
I chuckled. “Having a weird dream?”
“No, but I’ve been known to act a bit goofy from time to time, notably right after waking up.”
“You’re ready for this?”
She sat up, smoothed out her dress and adjusted her tits, then smiled. “Sneak around, hope we don’t get killed, and in theory meet some mystery power-person? Sure, why not?”
“Stay alert,” I replied, and we exited, heading for the Embassy.
Passing the ticket along, we entered to find an extravagant garden with a fountain, sculptures with spheres and whatnot that reminded me of butt beads, and a food stand near one of the entrances where a man and woman were preparing crepes. Moving around the corner, we found another one with champagne, along with an area where several people—mostly college age—were starting to dance. A D.J. had her booth set up over by the grassy hill where others were milling about, eating their crepes and whatnot.
“This is so not what I expected,” Steph admitted.
“My exact thoughts,” I replied, and motioned inside. “Let’s see what the deal is.”
The inside of the Embassy had several main rooms laid out in a way that reminded me of a fancy dance club. I imagined it wasn’t always like this. To my left was a silent auction area but at the moment it held various small-dish layouts, which we stopped at when I noticed Steph couldn’t prevent herself from staring at them. I had a little macaroon cookie—pistachio flavored. She tried several sushi rolls, then we moved on. A waiter came around with a plate of chocolate mousse shots, and of course, we had to try those. My eyes scoured the area for Galahad, not sure if it was he who we would should be looking for, or some host who would be the one to find us.
Passing through a room where the music was entirely different from outside, classier and slow, we watched as a woman in a flashy red dress took the stage and started singing. Impressive, and young men and women who were clearly college students or interns stood sipping wine and taking this all in. What an odd assortment of people, I thought. Had I stayed on the West Coast for school, I was one hundred percent certain this wouldn’t have ever been my scene.
It wouldn’t be now, I supposed, except that somehow my new life and this one were intertwining. Soon, I hoped, that would make sense. The next room was more low-key, with people networking, handing business cards to each other, laughing with fake laughs and equally fake smiles. Now this was the D.C. get-together that I had imagined.
“Too bad…” Steph said, glancing back toward the double doors we had come through.
“See someone?” I asked.
She chuckled, wrapping her arm in mine and leaning in close. “No, too bad we’re not here to just enjoy ourselves. I would’ve loved to dance with you.”
“Me, dance?” I pursed my lips, shaking my head.
“Ah, d
on’t be like that. We can’t, anyway, so at least pretend you would’ve loved to.”
“It would’ve been grand.”
She kissed me on the cheek. “Next time.”
My smile was forming when I turned to look around, then froze as my eyes took in the area through a door that was just closing. An off-limits area with guards at the doors near the grand piano in the corner. The movement of the door was arrested for a moment and I saw two men there talking, and the view that had stalled my smile amplified, zooming in thanks to my transmutation powers.
A woman with silver hair pulled up in a bun, her red dress leaving little to the imagination. She wasn’t bad to look at, although she had to be on the older side. There was a strange familiarity about her, an attraction, even, so I stepped closer, amplifying my vision even more to get a better look.
When I saw her face, I froze.
Fatiha.
But it wasn’t just her that caught me off guard. It was the Chinese girl at her side, the short one with the Princess Leia hairdo. She wore a dress that almost looked like she’d thrown a sheet over herself and wrapped it around to look like a dress.
“I’ve seen her before,” I said, nudging Steph.
“Fatiha?”
“Of course, but I meant the one next to her.” Gulping as I saw the girl’s eyes dart toward me, the room seemingly growing a hint of red. “In my last dream with Aerona. That girl was there. The one I told you about.”
Something moved from the girl. Shadows that nobody else saw but me. Shadows that looked like little creatures, moving along the walls and ceiling, scurrying toward me.
“Run,” I hissed, but turned to find Steph grabbing me, already starting to flee.
112
Screams filled the Embassy, shots fired somewhere in the distance. A distraction? My gargoyles moving in, having sensed danger? Either way, Steph and I ran hand in hand, working to get away from the pursuing shadows and the room where we had seen Fatiha and the Chinese girl.
We hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a hand motioned to me. A worried face and tendrils of light-blue came to life, glowing, forming spiderweb-style patterns in the walls that then shot out and formed a barrier behind us. The shadows couldn’t pass, instead scurrying along the other side, looking for an entry point.
“With me,” the man said, and turned, opening doors, sprinting and leading us along corridors before darting down a staircase.
He came to a halt and we followed him into a room that seemed to be some sort of security monitoring station. The door slammed shut and he locked it before turning to us.
“Whoa, there,” I said, hands up, ready to fight if need be.
“She wasn’t supposed to be here,” the man said, hands out to show he meant no harm. “Neither of them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Fatiha and… Megha.” The man’s eyes roamed over us, as if that second name was supposed to mean something. It didn’t… at first. But as Steph’s eyes widened, the name hit me as well.
“One of the group from Avalon,” Steph said. “I’ve heard that name before.”
He nodded.
“Shit.” Steph turned to me, frantic. “Fatiha and Megha both here… this is bad.”
The thought that it had been this Megha woman in the dream made this all even more disconcerting.
“Maybe more of them are here, too.” The man motioned to several security cameras, where we could see the hallway we had just come through. No signs of the shadows. Then the view cut to the other room, the one where we had seen Fatiha. She was there, sure enough, but the other one, Megha, was not.
“I don’t see her,” I said.
“Neither do the rest of the guests.” The man indicated a spot on the screen. “But she’s there, looking for you. What the camera can’t see, neither can the normies.”
“Who are you?”
“A friend of Galahad’s,” the man replied. “Our patron was supposed to be here, but plans had to be rearranged last minute.”
“You’re with the Order?” Steph asked.
He nodded, then shook his head.
“Which is it?” I asked.
“I was, once.” Eyeing us a moment, he waved a hand and said, “Suffice it to say, the Order has been infiltrated. Some good remains, but some bad. I have friends there—friends who wanted to ensure I reach you before the others do. You have the Liahona?”
“Not with me,” I lied, in a sense. While it wasn’t with me, I could always summon it now, thanks to Rianne.
“Good. Bringing it out would be reckless. But the point remains, you have it, and based on what is unfolding, I will assume you’ve restored Avalon. I can feel its connection already—no need to answer.”
I nodded anyway.
“How could Galahad invite us here knowing—” Steph started
Our benefactor held up a hand. “He had no idea Fatiha would be here. It doesn’t make sense, and with Megha on top of that. We need to move on, because my protective charm won’t hold long. Not against the likes of them.”
“And you are?” I asked.
“Merely a friend,” he replied, already leading us through another exit. “Name’s Lex.”
Great. A very trustworthy name. I frowned, but didn’t have much of an option here—it was either go along with him or turn and fight. While fighting didn’t worry me too much, I’d had my gargoyles at my back last time I faced Fatiha, and there was no telling how powerful her little friend might be.
We ran through room after room, out along what felt like a servant’s tunnel, and then past a security checkpoint where the guards were down and out. Exiting the Embassy through the delivery entrance, we charged out into a circular parking lot. A shadow came over Lex and I looked up to see Kordelia about to take him down.
“Not him,” I said, indicating the shouting coming from behind.
One of her wings lifted and she veered off course, slamming into a nearby dumpster instead of him. With her force, she pushed it to block the door, then turned back to us as the others arrived.
“Introductions later,” Ebrill said, indicating the front of the Embassy. “There’s trouble out there. Civilians fighting civilians.”
“The Order,” Lex said. “The good ones fighting those who have turned.”
That got a raised eyebrow from Aerona, but she was already in action mode, moving for the road as two men and a woman leaped down from the roof toward the street. A blast from her took out two, and she spun as a shot from the remaining attackers nearly hit her. Wings already moving out and about her, the claws at the top of one tore into the attacker’s throat.
“Move it!” Aerona hissed, and we all charged out of there, Ebrill and Kordelia taking the high ground.
“Some friends you’ve brought,” Lex said, eyes up.
“You haven’t met them all, yet,” Steph replied as more attackers came. She had her wraith knights there, charging out in a wedge.
I wasn’t about to let them have all the fun, so I turned toward the sound of clanging, casting ice claws out at three of them that raced out from the way we had come. My next attacks finished them off, but then Fatiha and her little friend were there, darting out, shadows thrusting them toward us.
“Shit,” I muttered, and suddenly had my staff and Liahona, not about to take any chances. Blasting them back, I was surprised to see that the strike was countered by the shadows. Imagine light hitting a wall of dark water that gave, letting streams of it in, but yet still held as a protective shield. Others around them fell, but not those two.
The attack had been enough, however, to give me a level increase. My screen popped up as I spun, running and sending out frost footing and ice walls. A quick glance at the screen showed:
Level 9 MAGE
Statistics
Strength: 25
Speed: 23
Luck: 20
Charisma: 20
Mana: 810
New Spells
Gorffwys (sleep); Frost F
ooting; Ice Wall; Ice Claw; Frost Bite; Flurries; Frost Remnant
New Magic Type
Access to Avalon
Rune Magic: Illusion Breaking, Cloaking
Seeing “Rune Magic” up there was pretty sweet, making me feel more confident in my abilities. Maybe I could find a way to make a screen showing specific rune spells and ways to use them, eventually. At the moment, though, we had work to do.
We reached the driveway as police sirens rang out, filling the night. Growing closer. The gargoyles pulled back into the trees, Ebrill motioning for me to come along. Lex, however, was at the gate with three others in black suits, each with a glowing diamond of yellow beneath their right ear.
“A sign for you to know us by,” Lex said, indicating the glowing diamond, taking me by the arm and gesturing. A black Town Car pulled up and Lex motioned for me to head toward it. “Get in. Before it’s too late. Go!”
I glanced back at Ebrill, gave the inside of the car a look, and then nodded. The gargoyles would be able to follow by sticking to trees and rooftops, but right now I needed to learn as much as I could.
“In,” Lex said, and gave me a semi-salute. “If I see you again, I imagine it’ll be after this is all over. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” I replied, in a bit of a daze over all that was happening.
With that, the man, stepped back, closed the door, and we drove off. Man, I sure wished we could have brought Shisa along. The little lion-dog would’ve loved all the action.
113
Driving through D.C. with the sounds of sirens in the distance and knowing they were related to an event I had been involved with was a bit disconcerting. My stomach churned, Steph beside me clutching my hand. We were alone in the car, speeding away from the French Embassy, although at times I caught glimpses of my gargoyles moving through trees or along building tops.
“Where are we going?” I asked the driver, and leaned forward to see an older African-American man with his eyes on the road.
“You’re Mr. Jericho Daynes, correct?”
