Ivy said nothing but grabbed the shot glass set in front of her. “What I want is to have a little fun tonight. What I do or don’t do with Elijah is no longer up for discussion.”
Deidre and Lita clinked their glasses together and took the shot. Ivy ignored the curl of desire that burned the moment she linked her and Elijah in any way.
Maybe Lita is right. Maybe if I give in this will stop. “Another round!” There’s only so much longer you’re going to be able to fool anyone into thinking you aren’t ready to see what Elijah’s like away from the politics.
4
The yawn messed with Ivy’s focus and the athame dropped to the ground, the purple glow of magic vanishing instantly. “Come on. Wake up.” She shook her head as if jostling it side-to-side was all it would take to wake her mind up.
Last night’s encounter weighed on her mind because it kept her from dreaming of anything but Elijah’s impressive body hovering over hers before he kissed her. A kiss that moved from her lips, down her body ,and ended with the most explosive dream-orgasm of her entire life.
“Which is exactly why you need to focus.”
She would never tell another soul, but she used the weekends for research. Jetting off to other countries, losing herself in ancient grimoires, and talking to mystics from other cultures like Druids and Shamans were her best shot to create time travel magic, so her time off was spent learning and not relaxing.
Despite Lita’s insistence the coven didn’t need Aspen Lancaster back, Ivy knew better. Aspen and Tyler Lancaster owned thirteen grimoires between them. Ivy could read only six of them. She knew the others contained defensive magic, magic she and her coven might need one day.
A widespread war never broke out when the magical and supernatural were discovered. Pockets of anger and attacks ran rampant, but the Council formed quickly and stifled war. If the North American council could be used as evidence, the tension between factions worldwide grew every day. The witches and warlocks truly held the most power, so they were the smallest species allowed within city limits.
Hundreds packed up and moved to new cities and towns—even countries— when the limitation ordinance passed. If humans continued to limit them, it would only be a matter of time before she lost control of the witches. It sounded as if the warlocks were already knocking on war’s door. Defensive magic was needed, and if Ivy couldn’t read the books to learn the spells and potions, she worried darker magic would be cast, magic that compromised one’s soul.
“So, sit down, take a sip of water and get to it.” Ivy shook her body, trying to restore some blood flow.
She’d never shared her concerns with anyone, but that didn’t make them any less valid, or the magic any less crucial.
Twirling her index finger in the air, the candle at the south of the circle lit with a crackle. Moving her finger counterclockwise, a slight breeze started at the eastern point and moved the dirt to the north and spun a slow path to hover over the eastern part of the circle. The water jostled in the bowl and Ivy closed her eyes.
Remember. Remember to travel, remember to leave, remember to seek the world unseen.
Ivy chanted in her mind, focusing on the night she wished like hell she could erase, but needed for any attempt at time travel magic to work.
The room didn’t change, but her mind conjured up the flames. Red and orange danced through the living room of her Garden District home, transporting her back in time in her mind only. Flames licked up the curtains, igniting them and sending more smoke into the space.
She choked. Travel magic was potent, and memory-fueled magic was so much stronger than any other kind. Smoke caught in Ivy’s lungs. Burning fabric smelled like rotting weeds and the stench only grew stronger as she forced herself through the only memory of the disaster she had.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, a reaction to the smoke stinging her eyes and not her remorse at what came next.
“Ivy!” Aspen’s memory form shouted, muffled by the flames as the specter of her mother raced down the hall.
Ivy’s feet itched to follow her, but the spell would only go as far as her memory, and Ivy had been trapped in this one room sixteen years ago. Goosebumps on her body seemed out of place as the false heat blazed around her.
The moment her mother screamed, Ivy slammed her eyes shut and grabbed the wand from the floor.
“Bend and weave. Move and break. A minute longer I will no longer take.”
The fire disappeared, taking its heat and Ivy’s hope with it. The memory shattered like the precious gift it was. All those years ago, her mother’s scream had been Ivy’s last memory. She knew a trio of witches levitated Ivy out the open window and that they hadn’t been able to do the same for her mother.
Sorrow pulled a scream from her lips. Ivy collapsed, her knees smashing into the hardwood floor, and wrists following quickly after. Ivy’s body heaved as shriek after shriek echoed around her. She didn’t get up. She didn’t look around.
Until the shakes subsided and the tears fell slower Ivy remained on her living room floor. Memory magic was nearly impossible, trying to tie it with a short burst of time travel was a long shot. And your last one. A tear slipped over the bridge of her nose and dropped off the tip to splash against her hand.
There was nowhere left to turn, no one left to turn to, to save for the warlocks, and her mother would never forgive her if she compromised her morals. Witches who married warlocks rarely practiced magic together—her parents were no exception. She’d never seen two people more in love than her folks, but the only time they fought boiled down to differences in magic use.
“She’d hate you if you go that route.”
Ivy closed her eyes and prayed for the last of the tears to fall. Every spellbook she knew of held but one or two time travel bits. In sixteen years, she’d grasped at every straw, and now it seemed there were none left to grasp.
“Can you really let go? After this long, can you honestly say you’re going to give up?” Ivy spoke to no one as she pushed off the floor.
No. Ivy would keep her ear open to any trace hints of powerful enough spells to truly walk through time. If her search truly focused on helping the witches learn the magic locked away in ancient languages, then it was time to find people who might be able to read them. Time to let them go and focus on what’s best for your coven.
Her lip quivered, and Ivy pursed her lips together in an attempt to stop more tears from falling. Everyone died and perhaps accepting it would make her quest to grow her coven’s strength more successful than chasing one spell for sixteen years.
5
A smile slipped across Jared’s lips. Like taking candy from a baby—only, I’m not pulling the wool over anyone’s eyes.
“I think you’ll agree this is a most welcome venture.” Jared gripped the older warlock’s hand firmly and shook. “I have two other . . . investors . . . on board. I believe with five of the city’s most powerful behind me, we can successfully complete a time travel spell and fix what should never have broken in the first place.”
Carlisle nodded, a lock of curled brown hair falling in front of his eyes. “I will lend you my grimoires, but not aid in casting. Should this backfire, I would like to keep my hands clean.”
The statement didn’t shock Jared in the least. Despite much of his coven requesting a lift on the ban on magic, many wanted to continue wading in the water. He couldn’t blame them. Revolution was not for the weak at heart or those with families to care for. Luckily for all Supernaturals, Jared was neither a coward or a family man.
“Understood. Your magical assistance is appreciated.” Jared slipped his hand from Carlisle’s. “If you’ll excuse me, I have another meeting to attend.”
“You are well met, Jared. High Priesthood agrees with you.”
Another smile. “Yes, well, power suits me.” With a nod, he strode from Carlisle’s necromancy shop.
He admired the other warlock. For a fee, he allowed humans and even the occasional Supern
atural the ability to spend five minutes with a recently deceased person. The only catch? The soul had to be buried in Louisiana dirt. Lucrative business in a city known for spirits and more cemeteries than they knew what to do with.
Jared held no talent when it came to playing with the dead, and that suited him just fine.
The warm February sun shone down and mingled with the annoyingly high moisture in the air. After less than a block, Jared found himself covered in a thin sheen of sweet.
“A weather witch.” Jared snorted as he wiped a hand over his forehead. “Someone needs to pay a weather witch.”
Like necromancy, shifting the weather took a special skill set, but he was certain the city of New Orleans would pay to lower the crummy winter weather as it did with the summer heat. Mardi Gras season should be cool and gloomy, but each year, the sun shone brighter and fewer rain clouds ruined their parades. Good for tourism, good for business, but awful to walk around in.
Iberville. Glancing up, he took note of the street sign. If one didn’t know better, it was easy to slip into a magical shop disguised as something else. While illegal, it allowed Supernaturals a chance to get what they needed without the threat of human interference—and annoyance.
Billy Lloyd’s Crystal Gallery was one such shop. On the outside, it featured beautiful sculptures made from crystals. The backroom held crystal magic, a practical application for any magic weaver. Billy’s son ran the shop, and Drew was no fan of limitations on his kind.
The door opened just as Jared stepped up the stoop. Camera or premonition magic? Either way, he reveled in the cool blast of air conditioning that seemed to blow the horrid sweat from his body. “Beautiful lamp,” Jared nodded at an exposed amethyst lamp base.
“Marlene created it last night.” Drew stepped out from the second room. His dark skin seemed to glow with the overhead lighting. “She gets in these moods where all she can do is carve. Other days, she snarls at me for so much as suggesting she work with the crystal.” His thick accent no longer took time for Jared to understand as it had when they’d meet in their early hundred’s.
Jared clasped Drew’s offered hand, tugging the other man closer and patting him on the back. Jared and Drew went so far back this meeting was merely a formality to explain Jared’s plans.
“How’s business? Been about a month since I stopped by.”
“Good. Shipping costs are getting a bit pricey for the tourists, but it’s nice to see the shop thrive and Marlene so at ease.”
Marlene was a djinn—and the only one in an interspecies marriage that Jared knew of in the entire city. Djinn were notoriously restless. After centuries in servitude to other Supernaturals, many did not know what to do with their freedom.
Jared took note of the beautiful way the light played off each sculpture and danced through the room. The shop was serene. For a moment, he felt guilty bringing something with such a dark nature through, but he knew Marlene could balance the energy if she sensed something off.
“What brings you by? I can’t imagine you actually have a business proposition for me.” Drew pulled back a black curtain, and they stepped into his office.
Jared chuckled. “Something of the sort, honestly.”
Drew sat behind the desk and gestured for Jared to take a seat opposite him. “I’m listening.”
“The vote to allow more magical-based businesses inside the Quarter failed. Fell flatter then day-old cola.”
Drew bristled a bit but controlled his response. “So we lost again.”
“We did, but when I was thinking about it, I realized there is another way. I’ll need your help, and possibly Marlene’s.”
“I cannot speak for her, but you have my compliance. I do want to know what’s in that little head of yours.”
“I want to change history.”
Drew barked out a laugh. “You aren’t serious. Time travel magic has eluded every magic-casting species since Pandora’s Box created us.”
“Because we’ve never worked together. I have two old warlocks willing to share their spells. If I can secure a djinn and a witch, we’ll be unstoppable.”
“You think a witch will agree?”
Jared shook his head. “None in the city, but I found one in Rome who is quite interested in the undertaking. I’ll be speaking with her later.”
“So, you find the secret to time travel magic, what next? No one will agree to exterminate a species—well, maybe the demons.”
“Nothing quite that drastic. We’ll start here, in New Orleans, and unleash a series of attacks that feel exactly like what our species are known in legend to do. We’ll be vicious, and we’ll convince the humans to be afraid.”
“So when the time comes, and we are outed because who the hell wants to go back to living in secret, we’ll be feared.”
Jared nodded. “Truly feared. There won’t be room for the humans to do anything but remember the attacks.”
“How are you getting other species on board?”
Jared waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t need too. I can provoke a wolf and vamp into attacking no problem. I don’t care if they fear djinn. They just need to fear some of us. That small uprising the Council of Supernaturals squashed won’t happen.”
Drew stroked his beard. “How can you be certain they won’t be afraid enough to band together? We’d never survive.”
“Massacre. Humans prefer survival. If they get it in their head they can’t beat us because we’re so brutal in our attempts through time, there’s no reason they would try.”
Drew sat quietly, no hint of acceptance on his face. “Marlene is going to be a challenge. She wants what’s best for everyone, whether that’s humans or us. Her tolerance is one of the things I love most about her.”
“Can you make it seem as if no harm will come to the humans?”
Drew’s eyes flashed in anger. “I do not lie to my wife. Find another djinn. Mine will already be upset enough that I am joining in with my power.”
“So you’ll cast with me?”
“Yes. I am not afraid of competition for business. I am afraid the humans could one day push out entirely. This might prevent that. Besides, the more of our kind in the city, the better it will be for raising children one day.”
Jared twitched. “You’re expecting.”
“Nah,” Drew grinned. “But one day, yeah. You ever think about getting married again?”
Jared’s body heated at the mention of his late wife. “Ginnie was enough. My life extended past five hundred years, and we spent sixty years together. I don’t need another family.”
Drew leaned in. “Tell me, if this time travel works, you thinking about going back to stop the humans who caused her car accident?”
“If I am?”
“No problem here, man. I just wanted to see how far ahead and selfish you’re really being.”
“I’m focusing on warlock’s first. I’m doing my duty as priest and Council Elect. There’s no need to question me.” He snarled, nearly forgetting he spoke to his oldest friend.
“Calm down, Jared. You’re not on trial. I’m in. I expect a seat on the bus when the time comes though. No way I’m letting you go back in time and have all the fun. There’s more than a vamp or two I’d like to see pay for some of their attacks.”
Jared leaned back in the chair, tension slipping from his body thanks to the array of healing crystals spread throughout the shop.
“You’ve got to chill your temper. I can’t imagine you’re anyone’s favorite person on the council.”
Jared shrugged. “So I’m a hot head. I haven’t made any deadly enemies yet, and no one will ever even know I’m behind this if they aren’t on the mission.”
Drew smirked. “You’ve legitimately thought of everything, except how to actually travel through time.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little Cajun head. You’re on board, and that’s all you need to know.”
“Jared?”
“Hmm?”
&nb
sp; “Was someone not on board?”
Jared leaned his head to the side and shivered at the way his neck cracked. “They weren’t.”
“Did you spell them to forget? Aren’t you concerned they’ll go to the council?”
Jared shrugged. “They’re not a problem anymore.”
Drew’s eyes tracked with his and understanding crossed his friend’s dark brown eyes. “You can be truly terrifying sometimes.”
“Well, when it’s something I want, I go all in.”
6
Elijah snarled as he holstered the gun just outside the courthouse gate. “You sure you don’t want to pretend to be a wolf for a bit?” He cocked his head to the side at Sam.
“Not a chance. I’m not a fan of your laws and hairballs must be a bitch.” Chuckling, Sam ducked to the side, likely expecting Elijah to swing. “Is it that bad? I mean, being on the inside of something as important as this must have perks.”
Elijah’s thoughts drifted far from the meetings and over to Ivy. Her curvaceous body tempted the beast in him. He enjoyed when women had a bit to hold on to, and Ivy had just the right amount to give her the curves men invented wolf whistles for.
“Where’d you go, man?” Sam leaned against the gate.
“Nowhere I should have.”
“And that means?” Sam pried, a smirk in his eyes. “Come on, we’ve been partners for five years. Aside from knowing you like quick bangs in public places I know nothing about your private life.”
“Did you ever think that’s what the word private means? Off limits? Not for sharing?”
Sam shrugged. “I like to think of you as family. The grouchy, angry brother, but family.”
Elijah fought to keep his lips from lifting into a smile. “Oh yeah? If we’re so close what should I know about you?”
No hesitation. “I am non-judgmental. Witches, wolves, demons—no issues here as long as the magic stays away from me. No love spells, accidental love nips or dragging me to hell.”
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