Three crows emerged from the inky black of night and descended toward the circle. Once inside, they merged to form one giant black bird. The moment the bird’s feet touched the ground, it was transformed into a woman. A goddess.
The Morrigan.
Her dark hair was long and wavy. She wore black armor but no helmet and carried a golden shield with the image of a crow on it. She walked toward us with purpose in her stride. I knew all along she was a goddess—or three—and now I felt it. Even if I hadn’t known, the Morrigan made it glaringly obvious. The way she held herself. Her regal air. She approached us with fire in her eyes and I fought the urge to turn and run.
“Son of Cicoluis, what business have you with the Morrigan?” she demanded. She planted herself in front of us and set her shield aside.
“We have questions,” Declan said. “Questions only you can answer.”
Her dark eyes narrowed. “What kind of questions?”
“About a prophecy,” I said. “One that addresses the end of the world.”
She tilted her head to examine me. “Did I give you leave to speak, mortal?”
I lowered my head. “No, but this matter is too important to stand on ceremony. I mean no disrespect.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whenever someone says they mean no disrespect, that’s a sure sign they’re about to disrespect you.” She glared at me. “Are you about to disrespect me, mortal?”
“Tell us about the prophecy,” Declan urged. “If evil, disease, and vengeance are triggered, what are we waiting for? What’s the next piece?”
“Have they been triggered?” the Morrigan asked. “I think not.”
“They will be if we don’t stop what’s happening right now,” I said.
“The disease that impacts sons and daughters of Lilith?” the Morrigan asked. “It rages on?”
“It’s contained for the moment, but there will be another attack,” Declan said. “A bigger one, and it impacts the children of Adam and Eve as well. They’re all at risk.”
A smile played upon her lips. “So much death and destruction.”
“But not on a battlefield,” Declan said. “Not as it should be.”
The Morrigan circled us. “Should it, though? Perhaps once, but the world has changed, son of Cicoluis.” She paused. “As you well know, seeing you now with this mortal witch.” She said the word ‘witch’ as though it burned her tongue to speak it.
“You never were fond of mortals, were you?” Declan asked. “You resented my father’s love for my mother, too.”
The Morrigan stopped in front of us. “How could I not? Your father was a god. Your mother was…” She trailed off. “Insignificant.”
“Not to me,” Declan said.
And that was the moment I realized the connection—why someone like Declan could see someone like me. His love for his mother had enabled him to see past powers and blinding godly beauty. He wasn’t dazzled by any of it. Declan may have been a demigod, but he possessed the heart of a human.
“And where will you stand during this next war?” the Morrigan asked. “I fear you’ve already chosen the wrong side.”
“There’s a wrong side?” Declan asked. “I would think either side pleases you, as long as there’s fighting.”
Her lips curled in a cruel smile. “I suppose that is true.”
Declan stood firm. “Are you responsible for trying to trigger the prophecy?”
The Morrigan threw her head back and throaty laughter escaped her lips. “You think I would lower myself to that?”
“Not directly,” Declan replied, “but you would be more than willing to pull the necessary strings. You would encourage anything that ignites warfare among paranormals.”
She trailed a fingernail down his bicep. “It has been so long since we’ve had a really good war. Too long.” He jerked his arm away and she laughed again. “There’s so little of your father in you. More’s the pity.”
“Make it stop,” Declan ground out.
“I do not wish to bring the prophecy to fruition,” the Morrigan said, her voice tinged with disdain. “If this world ends—this pathetic, easily manipulated world—what would be left for me to do? I’d have to return to the place beyond the veil and toil amongst the gods.” She feigned a yawn. “A tedious existence.”
“Then please help us,” I said. “Stop the chain of events that will trigger the prophecy.”
The Morrigan regarded me coolly. “I do not wish to bring the prophecy to fruition, but that does not mean I won’t enjoy what happens in the meantime. I see so much destruction.” She closed her eyes and inhaled, as though imagining the sweet scent of death.
“So you’ll let it continue until the last possible moment?” Declan asked. “For your own amusement?”
The Morrigan picked an imaginary piece of lint from Declan’s brown coat. “I may not even stop it then. Who knows? At that point, it may have gone too far for any god to bring to heel.”
She spread her arms wide and her skin darkened to a deep shade of midnight. Feathers sprouted from her pores until her entire body was covered in them. The crow cawed only once—a haunting sound that made my blood run cold—before launching into the sky.
It was only in that moment, watching her as she gazed skyward, that I realized I’d missed a crow in my recounting. The enclave, the salon, my dream—and a single image on a book cover with no words.
“Declan,” I said slowly. “I think I know who’s behind this.”
“The factory looks dark,” Cerys said. “Are you sure about this?”
In the end, I’d woken my roommates, knowing I would need their assistance. The four of us were stronger together, we’d learned that in our first year together. The wisest creatures in the world request help when they need it. Declan wasn’t the only one taught by a wise woman.
“I’m sure,” I said. She was right, though. I’d expected to see a hive of nighttime activity, figuring that the daytime hours were dedicated to non-nefarious projects. Instead, the factory appeared shut for the night.
We spilled out of the groundskeeper’s old pickup since Declan’s car couldn’t fit the five of us.
“What about the catacombs?” Bryn asked.
Dani scrunched her nose. “That equipment took up most of the space and it clearly hadn’t been touched for ages.”
I snapped my fingers. “There’s another chamber. Below the catacombs. That’s why the rug was crooked and the edge was curled.” The brothers were constantly moving the rug to access the secret entrance.
“Meditation, my ass,” Bryn said. “More like murder-tation.”
I pulled out my wand. “Who’s ready to keep the world from imploding?”
The other witches waved their wands in solidarity.
Bryn cast a sidelong glance at Declan. “And what can you do, aside from look good in a leather trench coat?”
Declan grinned. “You’ll see.”
“We’ll go first so we can keep the element of surprise,” I said to Declan. “When you hear a ruckus, that’s your cue.”
“Ruckus, got it.” He saluted me.
My roommates and I made ourselves invisible and swarmed the building. We headed to the catacombs and I immediately saw that I was right. The rug was rolled to the side, revealing a trap door. I could hear them down there now, discussing calculations as though they were merely concocting an innocent potion, not trying to kill an entire race of vampires and trigger the end of the world.
One crisp nod to my roommates and we descended. I landed easily on my feet, still clutching my wand. No one saw us. I counted fifteen brothers. Fifteen paranormals dedicated to wiping out millions of lives. It didn’t seem possible.
Tito stood at the head of the table, safety goggles protecting his eyes as he examined a beaker of white liquid. He looked down to consult a notebook before issuing an order to the man beside him. I recognized him as the annoying man that wouldn’t let us enter the factory.
There were several machines behi
nd them, each one bigger than the last. They would require a truck and a flatbed to move them. I shuddered, imagining the damage they could do. The coverage they would manage. The brotherhood was ramping up for another attack, this one far greater in scope.
I held up one finger, then two. When the third finger appeared, we sprang into action.
I called to my magic and it rose to meet me. I pushed my hands forward, forcing all the air I could muster against the far wall. The machines slammed against the hard stone and I heard the satisfying crunch of metal.
The brothers’ reaction was swift, as though they’d been preparing for this moment. I saw a flash of wand as one of them conjured a spell.
“Revelare,” he yelled. I felt the sting of his magic and knew we were now visible.
Tito didn’t seem surprised to see us. “I’d had hoped we were convincing. Apparently not.”
“Drop your wand,” Dani said, aiming her wand at the conjurer who revealed us.
He pointed his wand back at her, refusing to yield.
“Creepy guys in matching robes,” Bryn said, and held her palm open for a high-five. “I totally called it.”
I stepped forward, keeping my wand in an offensive position. “The blood substitute you were trying to create,” I said. “The one you wanted Anton Harrington to fund. That was meant to be another experiment, wasn’t it? Another form of distribution?”
Tito removed his protective goggles. “In the end, this was a better plan. We could control the distribution more easily. Vampires can decide which blood to drink, but it’s difficult to avoid weather when it occurs unexpectedly.” He gestured behind him. “Each one of those machines can cover the atmosphere of a small town.”
Bryn stared at him with disgust. “Did someone drop you on your head as a baby?”
“Protectus,” Tito said and wiggled his fingers. “Harrison, you may lower your wand.”
I aimed my wand at Tito in an attempt to freeze him, but nothing happened.
“My magic,” Dani said. “It’s not working.”
Tito wore a proud smile. “I’ve initiated a spell. A failsafe, so that no magic can be performed within these walls.”
Declan flexed his muscles. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t need magic to kick your ass.”
Dani ripped Revival from its sheath. “Neither do I.”
A melee ensued. Tables were flipped. Beakers thrown. We quickly learned that the brotherhood had weapons of their own, concealed beneath their bland robes.
“Is that a pocket knife or are you just happy to see me?” Bryn asked, before using a wooden beam to pummel the brother in the head.
One of the brothers threw a bottle of black potion and the liquid scorched my arm. I yowled in pain as I continued to fight.
“I thought he said no magic,” Cerys cried. She slashed at the brother with her sword and knocked the beaker to the floor.
“I bet the substances have already been through a magical process,” Dani said. “Doesn’t count as magic anymore.”
Between two brothers, I spotted the notebook on the floor—the one that Tito had been consulting when we arrived. “Whatever you do, don’t destroy that notebook,” I called. If it contained the formula for the toxin, then there was a chance the AMF lab could use it to create a cure.
No one could get to the notebook right now. It was surrounded by brothers with daggers.
Declan held two brothers under either arm and was squeezing their necks.
“Don’t kill anyone!” I yelled. We could destroy the machines and take the formula, but their fate wasn’t ours to determine. We had to hand them over to the AMF.
Declan winced as one of the brothers stabbed him in the side. “This is hand-to-hand combat, Mia. If you don’t want to kill them, then they’re going to kill us.”
There had to be another way.
“Retreat,” I called.
To his credit, the demigod of war didn’t hesitate to follow orders. He released his grip on the brothers, flinging them across the room. My roommates disengaged and, together, we ran from the building.
“I’m calling the agency to let them know,” I said. “We need to force the brothers outside so we can destroy the machines and whatever concoctions they’re storing there.”
“I’ll start a fire,” Dani proposed. “We can smoke them out and destroy everything at the same time.”
“But the spell,” Cerys said. “Tito said no magic.”
“He said no magic can be performed within its walls,” I said. “He didn’t say anything about magic from the outside.”
Dani didn’t hesitate. She maneuvered her hands as though ready to conduct an orchestra. A large fireball appeared between her palms and she catapulted it onto the roof of the factory.
“Mia, I think you might have a trick that speeds things along,” the fire witch advised.
“On it.” I pulled the air from the factory, sucking it away so that new air would rush in and fuel the fire, helping it to spread faster.
As the brothers fled the burning factory Cerys, Declan, and Bryn were waiting to apprehend them. Cerys used her earth magic to raise the ground and encase them in dirt mounds. Declan subdued the others with a few well-placed strikes of his sword, and Bryn conjured ice to freeze the rest in place.
“I only count fourteen,” Dani said.
My gaze swept the scene. “Tito. He’s still in there.” No doubt trying to outlast us. I sprinted toward the entrance.
“Mia, you can’t go back in there,” Dani yelled. “You won’t be able to use magic.”
“I can do this,” I called, and hoped I was right. It was difficult to see through the flames. I surged ahead, through the main area to the staircase. Part of the floor collapsed and I nearly plunged into the catacombs.
I found Tito on his knees, huddled in the corner of the room. He clutched the notebook to his chest.
I extended my hand. “Come on. I’ll help you out.”
Tito hugged the notebook. “I won’t surrender. I’d rather burn for the cause.”
“Mia!” It was Declan.
“Down here!” I yelled.
Declan appeared beside me, startling me. “This place is crumbling.”
“I’ve noticed,” I replied.
Tito stared at me, his face streaked with ash. “You cannot stop what has already begun.”
“That’s where you’re mistaken,” I said. “Look around, Tito. It seems to me we already have.”
He started to laugh. “Your scorched earth approach has only destroyed a single garden.” The laughter quickly morphed into a cough. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
More flaming debris fell around us.
“Come on, Tito,” I urged, but he remained cemented to the corner.
“It’s too dangerous in here,” Declan said. “We need to go. Now.”
“We can’t leave him,” I said.
Declan looked at me. “This is a battlefield, Mia. You leave the vanquished.”
It didn’t feel right, not to me. Splintered wood came crashing down around us. Declan didn’t waste another second. He slung Tito over his shoulder and headed for what remained of the stairs. I covered my mouth and dashed out behind him. Declan maneuvered his way through the burning building as though his moves were choreographed. His steps were swift and sure and I quickly lost sight of him.
I burst through the dilapidated exit and sucked in a much-needed breath. I was relieved to see that the other witches had everything under control outside, not that I doubted it for a second.
“Mia.” Cerys rushed to my side. “Are you okay? I was so worried.”
“I’m okay, but I want to call the agency again,” I said, coughing. “We need a healer.”
“No need,” a familiar voice. “We’re already here.” Nick stepped out of the shadows, followed by Healer Keswick.
“Nick!” I said. My spirits lifted at the sight of the werejaguar.
“You’ve been busy, Holmes,” Nick said.
I shook my head. “You have no idea.”
Nick assessed the scene. “These are the guys responsible for murdering Lucille?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Tito is their leader.”
Declan placed Tito on the ground at Nick’s feet. A low growl slid from Nick’s throat at the sight of his partner’s killer.
Tito kept his gaze pinned on me. “The wheel of time keeps turning,” he wheezed. “We are merely its cogs.” His head drooped to the side.
“Tito?” I said. I crouched down and removed the notebook from his grasp. The front was stained with blood. Tito’s blood. It was then I noticed a gaping wound in his abdomen. Something must have impaled him when part of the ceiling collapsed. He didn’t intend to leave that corner because he knew he was already a dead man.
“I’ll check everyone for smoke inhalation, shall I?” the healer asked.
“I’m good,” Declan insisted. “Make sure Mia is okay. She was in there longer.”
I stood and handed Nick the bloodstained notebook. “This book has their formulas. The lab might be able to use the information to develop a cure.”
Nick gripped the notebook with both hands. “Thank you, Mia. Lucille would be proud.”
Cerys looped her arm through mine. “We’re all proud of Mia. She’s a superstar.”
Dani squeezed my shoulder. “How does it feel, Mia?”
“To still be alive?” I asked.
Dani smiled. “To save the world?”
Chapter Twenty
I sat in Chancellor Tilkin’s office, reviewing recent events. The chancellor wanted me to share every piece of information in connection with the case, no matter how seemingly insignificant. It seemed she was amassing a report of her own. For whom, I wasn’t sure.
“So the Fraternal Order of Hermes used alchemy to transform the toxin into snowflakes, making it easier to distribute?” the chancellor queried.
“That’s right,” I replied. “The snow retained the original toxic properties, so any vampire that came into contact with it became infected.”
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