“You are welcome here, Izobel.”
That was ten thousand and thirty-one times Deklan had told her that. She never believed him.
“Yeah, tell that to Eastman,” she shot back, full of snark.
“You two are going to have to burry that hatchet eventually,” Claudia interjected.
“Not in this lifetime,” Izobel argued. “That bitch nearly got me killed.”
“And you’ve been cutting her breaks ever since,” Deklan added under his breath.
Izobel rolled her eyes. Deklan didn’t feel like arguing. He let it drop.
“Look, I will help you. And I’m sure Claudia will too,” he offered.
Claudia’s mouth dropped open with her reply. It was hesitant and that worried Izobel a little bit. “Your reasons are pure, Izobel. But that won’t matter to the magic. There are consequences to a charm like this. A price must always be paid. There are ways to deal with lycanthropy, dear heart. It’s one night a month. Strong chains and shackles could save a life here.”
“She has to change in front of them, or they’ll kill her,” Izobel doubled down on her reason for dabbling in such dark realms for her solutions.
Nora looked down at the floor guiltily. She forced Izobel’s hand. The Culling was supposed to be a tactic to buy them time. It painted them into a corner instead. It wasn’t until now that Nora started to doubt Johnny’s story of Zoe controlling it.
“Very well, I will help you however I can. But you will face much of this alone, my girl.”
“I know,” Izobel said.
“There are things you will need,” Claudia said. She crossed back to the shelf and lifted an ornate wooden box decorated with mother of pearl and opal inlay. “Some of the ingredients are quite rare, so use them with care.”
“Thank you, Claudia. I will not forget this.”
Claudia smiled and pressed a massive hand over the side Izobel’s head. “You are welcome here. Your sister will know protection within these walls. The circle will come to your defense no matter what you face.”
Izobel appreciated the gesture more than Claudia would ever know. But she couldn’t take her up on it. The circle was sacrosanct. She couldn’t destroy it, even if it meant to save her sister. It was better to walk away. To stand alone. You get less people killed that way. She glanced at Deklan as the thought rolled through her head.
“My sister. My responsibility.”
Claudia didn’t bother arguing against a lifetime of thinking. She would simply leave the door open. “Go with the blessings of the four winds, darling. And always remember don’t just be a witch, my dear. Be a bitch.”
Claudia closed her eyes and held her hands to either side of Izobel’s face. She whispered a chant that dropped like warm water and spilled over her shoulders enveloping her in a field of energy. Izobel welcomed the blessings Claudia gave, every one.
Derrick escorted them out.
Nora shut her phone off and slipped it into her pocket. “The plain is ready,” she mentioned.
“All right, let’s go,” Izobel nodded.
“You really want to go into Mancer territory?” Deklan asked.
“No choice,” Nora answered.
Her glance lingered. She wasn’t sure what to say after last night. Thank you kept popping into her head though. She needed the peace he helped her find to rebuild herself after what happened with Ellis. Her lips turned upward into a blooming smile.
“I should go with you,” Deklan declared.
“You should stay here where it’s safe,” Izobel shot back.
“Bells!”
“I don’t need you to keep risking your life for me,” she said firmly.
50
Chapter
The car door opened and a strappy toed, grey shoe stepped out. Izobel came to her feet. Silver sparkles rained with her every step. Her black hair was pulled back in a severe bun with just the hint of finger waves along her left ear. She was a vision in all her vintage nineteen twenties glory.
Nora’s look was just as glammed up. A close-fitting leather jacket and red velvet tank went amazingly with the boots she’d been looking at for the past six months. This was the first place it made sense wearing them too. Now she couldn’t help feeling a little dimmer about them. No matter how much the black leather went with the club they were entering.
“Where did you even find that dress? Gorgeous starlets are us?” Nora joked.
Izobel licked her lips. She turned her head that way and her smirk fell away into laughter. “It’s magic,” she admitted.
“Get out?” Nora said giving it an appraising glare. “You can spin dresses out of string-like in fairytales. Can you teach me?” she asked in all seriousness.
“I didn’t have anything to wear for this.” Izobel shrugged.
“Well your results are fabulous,” Nora said.
The bouncer at the door glared at Nora for a few seconds more than would be considered creepy but he waved them past eventually. The cold prickled their skin as they crossed the threshold from the outside world into darkness and neon light. Tufted benches and crystals hanging from chandeliers grounded this place heavily in gothic chic.
Izobel wandered through the tables out here on the edge of the dance floor. The light pulsed with lovers and close bodies moving in the square. The music was like a heartbeat. It thumped double time in close rhythm.
The sorcerer was a beacon of light. The layers of hanging rhinestones reflected the blues and purples every bit as much as the chandeliers. Nora marked Izobel’s spot and began her search.
What was he doing here? Nora’s imagination threw up bad situation and worst. She could feel their eyes on her like a weight, hungry and withering. Could almost see their shadows on the edge of her senses. Silver didn’t even slow the leaches down. No preternatural metal did, and the Kin had tried. The only thing that killed a vampire was werewolf venom. And folk like Nora just didn’t get that listed among their gifts.
She knew a woman who could tell your future down to the colored shirt you were wearing when fate punched your ticket. The man who healed her grandfather since he was a child could bless folk to mend the way Kin regenerated.
Nora was just… lucky. Always in the right place at the right time. Someone always put their sword in front of the hit she was going to take. Cool trick, huh? It would be even better if she could control when it happened. She was working on it. It shined just on the edge of her reach, grasping fingertips and all.
Every shimmering bit of awesome comes with a cost that takes something from you to pay. We all have our reasons. That was hers. Nora was a manipulator. It was the strongest lesson she learned. And her last saving grace on more than one occasion.
The thing is if she didn’t do it someone like Abel would always go to bat for her no matter what it cost them. And devoted as that sounds you start to question it quick. At least she did. She wondered many a time whether his boyish grin and hands helped her up off the floor when a Kin pushed her was just his stellar character or was the universe looking out for her. Because no matter the answer he still caught a beating. And the truth of questions like those is all in all, she’d rather it be real.
She’d never admit to feeling like she deserved real. But that’s why she wanted it so badly. And the rub of being aware of it left her picking. Searching for the reasons it couldn’t possibly carry the weight of real. She just couldn’t believe in anything. Even her luck.
Nora just had to help it along.
It took everything to keep her shoulders from tightening. The Folk weren’t known to have superhuman hearing or preternaturally uncommon sense of touch. But Nora’s were a hell of a lot better than a human’s. The ache of an almost brush dragged at her concentration. The ghostly hand gripping and stroking things inside her sent a shiver down her spine.
Her breath plumed in the air before her just as visible as it was palpable. The music chased her with high violin notes and a soprano choir. A heavy guitar grounded this area. Nora
kept her eyes open for sandy blond hair and smoky green eyes. She took the few steps down into a sunken room where the music wasn’t quite as loud. Only a handful of people and almost all of them were vampires.
Nora stopped. Her eyes wide she scanned the threshold. She was two extra steps beyond the point of no return. She made a face at the sound of a vicious punch. Nora swallowed hard and straightened her shoulders. You have two options in every situation, no matter the aftermath. You either walk in like you own the place, or you play the victim. She chose strength.
51
Chapter
Izobel swallowed past the taste of stone. It was thick here. Sorcerers try hard not to step into the worlds of either the Kin nor the Venomancers. But they all coexisted. It happened on occasion. This was Izobel’s first. She made sure to pay extra attention to her intuition here. Her fingertips pricked with Nora’s werewolf blood. She was like a scream. There was one other not far from Nora.
If Izobel knew they were Kin, the Mancers sure as hell would. Secretive as the primordial races could be there were things everybody knew. And the most important to tonight was that Kin and Venomancers killed each other… a lot.
A body stepped in close to her. “You can’t do this alone,” Izobel,” Deklan said.
“You followed me?” She frowned up at him.
“You shouldn’t be here. This is a Mancer club and she’s kin. You guys are insane!”
“The location charm I wove said her brother is here.” Izobel sighed. “You’re here anyway I’m going to need your help. Come on.”
She could admit the stakes of walking into this building were a little higher than she’d originally thought. Back up was back up any way she dissected this situation. The math came out the same. They were going to need more bodies.
Izobel grabbed the lapel of his jacket and dragged him along for a few steps before he fell into line with her. They wound their way through the crowd. Izobel touched a woman. Palm to her forearm as she passed. She pressed her palm to a man’s back. Deklan raised his eyebrows in question. Izobel spun on the dance floor and took a man’s hand, she moved into a woman so close a sharp breath would have made them touch, Izobel’s hand sliding down her arm.
The lights she conjured came to life all over the dance floor and out in the club. They had a reddish-orange glow and danced with the eagerness of the Prime. Eight lights in total moved through the crowd. Numbers are always helpful.
Izobel stopped just outside the room Nora stood in. She ducked down next to the opening and watched the conversation. She counted seven, including the guy doling out the beating. She scanned the route from here to the entrance. It was an eternity littered with debris and winding pathways. They weren’t fighting their way out of this, even with Deklan’s help.
They had to get them out of there.
52
Chapter
“Please, Gregory, you made your point. Don’t hurt him anymore,” Vic begged.
Purple eyeliner drew lines down her angular face. Her wavy caramel-colored hair hung stringy over her bare shoulders. She was a mess. A fight with your boyfriend takes a lot of women out at the knees, and they were that toxic kind of love that poisons you on the inside. The kind that blinds you to the dangers closing in. Nothing mattered but Alex. Vic would give anything, do anything to save him. And then, tomorrow she would scream and throw things at the wall. No one but Alex could inspire that kind of passion.
The bruiser sneered and pushed her out of the way just to hurl another punch at Alex’s jaw. Vic closed her hands over her face so she wouldn’t see it. She clenched at the sound anyway. It carried over the music.
“I’d be careful if I were you,” Nora said in a voice that hinted at sing-song.
A dozen dead eyes added to her unease. She could have won an Academy award for how well she hid it. Nora strutted toward the Venomancers with just hint of a smirk on her face. She could honestly say the boots helped. Confidence is a powerful thing.
“Another wolf, boys. It’s our lucky night,” Gregory laughed. “Don’t they teach you puppies to stay away from Mancer territory?”
Wolf. Nora’s smile got just a little more threatening with that word.
“I’m here to help you,” she said.
Gregory recognized the tone. A right cross shattered Alex’s nose. Silver sizzled and smoked from his wrists. Bladed cuffs, blood dripped onto the mirrored tile. Alex slumped and Vic ran over there. She threw her arms around him and touched his broken face. Vic kissed his cheeks, his forehead.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s going to be okay,” she murmured and cooed.
“I’m sorry, Vic. Forgive me. Just tell me you forgive me,” he begged.
“Why did you come here?” Vic sobbed. “You shouldn’t have come here!”
She dragged him into her embrace. Alex whimpered his apologies against her chest. The rest of the world didn’t matter to them. It fell away the moment he touched her.
Nora tore her eyes from the display of affection her annoyance for the position her brother put them in faded just a little. She could admit for a love like that she’d do some fucked up things too.
“I’ve come to take my brother off your hands,” Nora offered.
“This whipped mutt here,” he said walking by the couple huddled on the floor in a blubbering mess. Gregory kicked Alex, but he wasn’t careful and Vic took some of it too. Vic glared up at him, head and shoulders shaking with slovenly rage. “Why he’s lucky to have you, madame.”
Gregory’s deep vibrato was a stark contrast to the structure and etiquette his speech had. One of the gifts the Mancers were blessed with was a long life. And some habits die harder than others. It was just another layer of disparate things about his appearance and demeanor. That was the thing about Mancers, something was off about them and it was hard to pin down what it was that made you uncomfortable.
“But I think me and the boys have got things well in hand.” He bowed.
“I don’t think you understand,” she said with a comically aware expression. “My family has a trophy room with a dozen Mancer heads mounted on the wall.” She leaned into one of the thugs next to her. “I mean, my great grandfather had some weird outlets, I admit.” Nora stopped in front of Gregory. “Do you really want to get them involved? I mean, you seem like someone who cares about resources. This will cost you.”
The smile fell from Gregory’s rugged looks. He leaned back appraising the woman before him. She was awful soft for a killing machine. He was rather drawn to her peasant beauty. Gregory was glad a little meat on a woman’s bones was coming back into fashion. Too bad she smelled like wet dog.
“Worthington’s getting long in the tooth. And if his heir here is any indication of what’s left of the great house, I think I‘ll take my chances.”
A gun and magazine changed hands around the room. Just to be handed off to Gregory. He slipped the fully loaded magazine into the bottom of the Smith & Wesson SD40 VE and pulled back on the slide. He leveled the barrel at Alex. Nora swallowed with the gunshot. She didn’t dare turn her head to look. Kin are hard to kill. She held onto that thought with slipping fingers.
***
Izobel nodded at Deklan and stepped into the room. Her fingers moved at her side. A line of shimmering dustmotes tied the strings to the bodies she’d touched earlier that night. She drew them in slowly. Deklan moved to her side weaving enchantments at his own peril. A higher number of necromancers were born to the night-time Primordials.
Izobel gave each of the bodies she claimed a flare of Prime that lit each of them up like stars in the darkness of the club.
“Even if you have to pay the tab tonight?” Izobel asked loud enough to be heard.
Nora spared a glance but what drew her eye was the howls she heard on the edge of her hearing. She counted at least fourteen other Kin. She fell in with Izobel’s plan fast and eager to keep up.
“The Kin always come for their own,” Nora declared.
A few of the others G
regory had with him shuffled. Gregory glanced out at the rest of the club. He affixed a bored smile to his face and kicked Alex. The moment carved itself out of crystal. Izobel and Nora shared a look. Izobel’s fingers danced and curled drawing the flashes closer.
“Get him out of my club,” Gregory sneered finally.
Vic got up smoothing her skirt down over her thighs. She helped Alex to his feet. Derrick slid in at his other side, draping an arm around Alex’s back. He caught a women’s eyes. He hadn’t noticed her before. None of them did. Gregory had the room’s attention.
She watched the play with bored Champaign sipping. Brown hair was a fall of silk over her shoulder. The woman winked at him and his heartbeat slowed. His eyes went wide and a plume of his breath turned his world to fog. The single thump his pulse managed left him fighting to breathe.
He warned Izobel of the danger she was walking into. Hell, that’s why he followed her. He had this need to take care of her. That was the lie he told to everyone, himself included. The truth wasn’t so much different. But funny how a single word can change the meaning of a thing. He had this need to take care of IT.
The death mage was just toying with him. Pushing on the edges trying to spark the powder keg. He didn’t dare hit back. He bullied through the stiff damp that made his bones scream. Hooking his hand beneath Alexander’s armpit, he adjusted his weight.
A venomous smile ended their altercation. Deklan made his way toward the doorway without as much as a second glance. He was too busy chanting nullification songs. He drew and redrew a Fibonacci spiral in his head, tracing the lines in each of the colors. Just in case.
53
Chapter
Zoe flicked the flashlight on.
“It’s long, kinda thin. It has a sharp smell,” he said wiping his hands on the small towel laid over his shoulder.
“I know what a bay leaf is,” she assured him walking out the front door.
Aching Silver (House of Wolves Book 1) Page 18
