by Sierra Cross
“Well done!” Asher was genuinely proud of his student.
“How’d that feel?” Or did I want to know?
“Like a shot of Jäger.” Liv shuddered. “Hit me again.”
“Okay, one more time,” Asher said. “This go ’round, Alix, you throw the blast at her.”
What? Crap, that would require me to call my magic out. I felt the lump on my solar plexus. What if I sent green magic at Liv? Would it infect her too? “Why does she get all the fun?” I hoped my reluctance to call my magic didn’t show. “I wanna try absorbing a blast.” No, I really didn’t. But better than showing off that flaming green.
“Fine by me.” Liv shrugged, called her magic, and aimed her firebolts at me without even taking a breath.
“Just a sec let me get—” Pow! The magic sailed at me. I barely had time to think the word sponge and the firebolt was upon me. The energy hit my body with a painful jolt. Every molecule wanted to tense up, but I forced myself to absorb. I gulped.
“Just like Jäger, am I right?” She grinned at me.
“More like a shot of turpentine,” I eeked out.
“Ah, nice save, Alix,” Asher said.
I was relieved when it was time to go to work and I hadn’t once had to call my magic.
I stretched out my shoulders, taut from a full night of tossing the shaker and sliding beers across the bar, and turned to my glistening back bar. Leaning forward, I lovingly scrubbed the shelf one final time. Then I replaced each bottle, adjusting meticulously so that the labels faced forward.
Ah, Sanctum, it’s good to be home.
During the weeks I’d worked for Millennium Dynamics, I’d missed this place achingly. The camaraderie among staff. The buzz of customers and banter with regulars, as well as the collective sigh of relief when the barflies cleared out at the end of the night, like now, and I could go about the calm business of prepping my station for the next night’s labor of love. The balls of my feet throbbed from standing in my spike-heeled black boots—I was wearing the new ones from Armis, the magicborn clothier, with the requisite hidden karambit sheath—but there was no place else in the world I’d rather be.
I was neatly stacking pint glasses when the sound of deep male laughter made me look up. Matt had let himself in the locked front door, followed by a sandy-haired guy who was almost as large as him.
The other guy—who had to be the guardian rep from Barcelona—clapped Matt on the back and guffawed. But it was Matt I couldn’t take my eyes off. He was laughing raucously. So much for being nervous about this review; they sounded like old buddies out for a nightcap. I’d never seen my normally stern, responsible guardian laugh like this. The skin around his dark brown eyes crinkled as he tossed his head back. There was a day’s growth on his square jaw. I stared, unprepared for the effect that glimpsing this playful side of Matt would have on me.
Unbidden, a fantasy entered my head of running my teeth across his stubble. Letting my tongue tickle him behind his ear. Making him laugh for me. A heat rose from my core, my face flushed, and I turned back to my bottles, scrubbing an already clean shelf.
Deep breaths, Alix, get yourself in check.
My hormones were just about contained when I felt a hand on my shoulder, fingers touching the bare skin at my nape. I didn’t need to turn to know it was Matt.
“Asher and Liv are on their way.” Hearing his voice in my ear lit up like a thousand fireworks in my belly. “You about done?”
Damn, why did he always do this? He touched me when he could’ve just said my name. “I’ll be there in a sec,” I snapped, without turning to look at him. My anger was misdirected. I could tell him at any time to stop touching me and I know he’d comply instantly. The truth was, I lived for these inconsequential moments of closeness. Yeah, I was a mess. But with the guardian rep sitting there waiting to report our every move I’d better figure this out quick. If he even suspected a possibility of a romance between Matt and me, the consequences would be dire. Especially for Matt. And obviously, our coven would be hosed.
“You guys want a beer?” I called after him without looking.
“You’re closed,” Matt said, smiling. “I don’t want to break any laws.”
Of course you don’t.
“We close at one on weeknights. Technically, I can serve you until two. You’ve got another forty minutes.”
I mixed a Bijou for Asher, his new go-to cocktail, and poured beers for the guardians and Liv. As I pulled up a chair to the end of the booth, Matt made introductions.
“And, Chris, this is Alix.” As he spoke my name, a smile formed on his lips, but he tamped it down quickly.
“Christopher Hasley.” Chris extended a beefy mitt for me to shake. Like Matt, like all guardians, he was exceptionally tall, lean, and super fit. “Pleasure to meet you. I hear good things about you. Your trick with the Malum Osmium was impressive.”
Matt told him about how I’d avoided getting turned by the evil tree? And made it sound impressive? I nodded, speechless.
“We did our pre-academy training year together,” Matt said smiling. “Down in Tennessee.” A laugh from a distant memory interrupted him. Chris joined him as they shared a private joke.
Looking at Chris more closely, I noticed the crinkles in his smiling eyes went deeper and his muscles didn’t pop out as much. Perhaps because he’d moved on to a desk job.
Because—it hit me with a jolt—Chris was ten years older. Even though they’d gone to school together. Thanks to his decade in the soul-prison that was the Void, Matt would be forever out of step with his own cohort. His schoolmates. His brothers. His generation. Sobering.
“Who knew the rep from Barcelona HQ would be one of our own? Small world.”
“I thought the guardian academy was in Barcelona,” I said, confused.
“The college is, yes.” Chris seemed eager to educate me on all things guardian. “We all get four years there, 100 percent paid for by the guardian trust.”
“Well, not our bar tabs from Palau Dalmases.” Both laughed and it was clear they were sharing a private joke.
“This guy’s bar tabs would have bankrupted the order.” Chris hooked a thumb at Matt, who was still grinning over some bar on the other side of the world. “But yeah, think of the training facility in Tennessee as a weeding-out mechanism. Just being male and born into a guardian bloodline doesn’t guarantee you’ll make it into the Brotherhood. Almost 50 percent get cut. Lot of dreams dashed. Consider it was more like…”
“Bootcamp,” Matt supplied. “It was a rough place.” He grimaced. “Remember when those girls from the witches academy across the river tried to sneak in to party after bed check? Man, all hell rained down on them.”
“In retrospect, their expulsion was appropriate.” Chris’s gaze hardened. My heart sank. So it wasn’t just Matt who took the vow so seriously. The older guardian downed his beer and his expression turned sad. “You know, it’s defunct now?”
“Whoa…the guardian facility?” Did Matt look disappointed that the horrible bootcamp closed?
“We had to downsize from three US pre-training centers to one, so now everyone goes to the center in Mississippi,” Chris explained grimly.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Matt said. “I’m actually sorry to hear it. A lot of stellar guardians were forged in that place—you among them. When did they shut it down?”
“Let’s see.” Chris tilted his head. “It was three years ago, the year my son Felix was born.”
“Wow. Son. Congrats on that.” Matt raised his glass, but he looked even more thrown off. Suddenly it struck me to wonder: did Matt want to meet a guardian woman and have children of his own, children who would grow up within that culture, keeping its traditions alive? Of course he would. It made me ache even to think about it.
Chris spent the next half hour talking about ways we could recruit from dormant bloodlines, testing for latent abilities, and how the witches could assist in the process. He promised to direct us
to a private coven portal on their secure website. We’d get detailed instructions, check-ins schedules, etc. Our individual logins would be issued after the results of his review were certified by HQ. All in all, it sounded like no big. I was thinking Matt having his panties in a knot over this inspection was all for nothing.
When Chris said, “Sounds like this crew pretty much has it dialed in. So this trip is going to be a lot shorter than I thought. I’ll only shadow you for a few days.”
And suddenly, all our coven secrets seemed to loom larger before me.
The next morning, I met Matt and Chris at my car. The coffee in my mug was the first I’d made for myself in over two months. Since Matt had reentered this corporeal world and assumed a proactive role in my general physical well-being, most importantly in keeping me caffeinated.
Thinking that it was best not to give Chris any misleading information, we’d decided that Matt should spend the night at Asher’s. I chuckled when I thought how that must’ve gone. I was betting Asher, a tea man, didn’t even own a drip coffee maker.
“Where to?” I asked Matt. Between Matt and Chris filling up so much of the space in my car, I hoped I wouldn’t get claustrophobic.
“Looks like, Honorata Skarpecki is the lucky witch.” Matt’s voice was too bright, like he was trying too hard to sound relaxed and funny. I wanted to tell him to chill, this Chris guy seemed cool and this inspection would be a snap. But I doubted I’d get a moment alone with Matt to tell him. “She’s in Northgate, expecting us by ten. Chris, you’re about to get an up close and personal look at Seattle morning rush hour.”
We parked on a street lined with bare cherry trees. On the front stoop of Honorata’s well-kept sixties rambler, a shiver ran down my spine. A familiar feeling struck me that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was not the dark tingle of black magic that I felt, but just the opposite. I felt no magic at all. Like at Marley’s. Matt’s hand was poised to knock on the door.
“Wait!” I shouted. “It’s too quiet. Like at Marley’s.” The magnolia trees in the yard stood stock-still, there were no birds or squirrels anywhere near the house. Matt and Chris drew their blades. I went to do the same, but Matt’s sharp looks reminded me of our present company. I flicked my hands downward and raised my arms to an offensive stance, looking ready to call my magic—which I prayed I wouldn’t have to do. The thought of showing green in front of this guardian rep made my peach pit ache in my gut.
Matt’s first rap on the door caused it to swing open—having not been properly closed. Sprawled across the floor of a small living room lay an older woman whom I assumed was Honorata. Limbs splayed at odd angles.
Without thinking, I crossed the threshold.
“Stop! You’ll pollute the crime scene,” Chris said officiously.
“I have to check if she’s still alive.” Even as I said it, I knew I should’ve done it magically. As her whole body came into view I realized I didn’t need to check for a pulse. Her face was frozen in mild surprise, her short grey hair barely mussed. But her abdomen was a cauterized, gaping hole, just like Marley’s was. And just like at Marley’s, nothing in the room looked out of place. How were these brilliant witches killed without getting a single shot off at their attackers?
Retracing my steps back to the stoop, I waited in silence with Matt for the Council Suprema folks to arrive. Chris was scribbling notes on an official guardian pad. Apparently he had a lot he wanted to document.
The Council Suprema agents descended, pretty much like they did at Marley’s. The shifter officers escorted us off the stoop, back to the curb. This time I leaned up against my own car. Knowing the drill by now, I kept my mouth shut and waited. Another black SUV pulled up: Agent Larch and her bulldog of a lackey, Jason, were here to complete the team.
Agent Larch stopped to stare daggers at Matt and me. “Why am I not surprised to find you two at this murder scene? It’s getting to be a habit for you.” She gave Chris a withering visual inspection. He snapped to attention, but wisely waited for her to speak. “And are you another addition to this ragtag coven?”
“Guardian First Class Christopher Hasley, ma’am,” he intoned with military crispness, as if he were saying it to a drill sergeant. “Home base, Barcelona HQ. Current duty, onsite review, Swords of Light Brotherhood, Coven of Fire.”
“Well, well.” Larch’s crimson lips curved up into a sardonic smile. “I see the Fidei aren’t the only ones who are taking a closer look at your eccentric little gang.” She turned to pointedly speak to Chris. “I’m sure your superiors won’t have a problem with you sharing the findings in your report. I’ll request it through official channels, of course. It’ll be good to have another objective perspective.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She looked at Chris like an ally. “Walk with me.”
Matt stared ahead blankly, but I could imagine what was going behind those eyes. This was his worst nightmare. Larch clearly believed we were on the wrong side of the law, and now she was trying to win Matt’s old friend to her side. And at this moment, I was afraid, her chances looked good.
Several hours later, we were finally allowed to leave. In near silence, Chris, Matt, and I piled into my car. Unfortunately, it was perfect timing to immediately get caught up in afternoon traffic, slowed down further by an accident in the express lanes. The only sound in the car was the rhythmic clack of wipers combating the light rain. In this closed space, the tension was so thick it was cutting off my oxygen. Chris hadn’t said a word, but he was radiating outrage.
Traffic came to a complete stop with no signs of letting up anytime soon. I groaned and it was like a tipping point for the emotional pressure.
“What the hell, Matt?” Chris exploded. “You might have mentioned you were called into the Fidei. That you’d been questioned in an investigation of a massacre that took place up north. And that your coven’s been called out by the Witches’ Assembly!”
He got a little anticlimactic with that last point, but I saw where he was coming from. When you said it all together, it sounded damning.
“Those are not related events.” Matt folded his arms across his massive chest defensively. Shit, the one time where he needs to take the high road and suck it up, Matt gets all protective-y. Like my father always said, your greatest strength can also be your greatest weakness. “And visiting this witch today wasn’t our idea. The council itself sent us here.”
“That’s a bullshit answer and you know it.” Chris was all business now, no residue of the homeboy from yesterday. “And as of today, being caught at yet another crime scene, you’re going to be officially registered as persons of interest in the murders of those witches!”
Matt let out a heavy breath. “Look. You know we couldn’t have had anything to do with Honorata’s murder. You were with us.” Matt was practically pleading. “Somebody has it out for us. They’re trying to set us up.” Chris tried to break in, but Matt wouldn’t yield. “Yes, I know how that sounds. But man, you know me. I wouldn’t do this. And I can vouch for my coven.” As he spoke the words I could feel the weight of them. His vouching for us was like one of his sacred oaths and Chris knew it. “They didn’t do this.”
“No, I don’t think you did,” Chris said, as if it was a revelation. “But I’ve got to report this the way it has unfolded. And right now, that does not look good, my brother.”
“I’m not asking you not to report it,” Matt said. “Just give us a week—to figure things out. Please.”
Chris’s face knotted with indecision. He was weighing a lifetime of commitment against a bond of loyalty. And I had no idea which side he’d end up on. Finally, he gave a small nod. “You heard Larch. She decides to indict, that’ll be flagged in the system. And they’ll haul your ass into HQ, put you under hot lights, and ask you questions till your ears bleed.” He let out a long slow exhale. “Here’s what I can do. I’m flying to Hong Kong. Maybe I can stretch that trip a few days to give you some extra time. Once I’m back in the office
I have to file that report.” He looked pointedly at Matt. “Straighten things out here with the Fidei or my hands are tied.”
We’d been granted a brief stay of execution.
“Too bad we can’t hang out in the cozy corner in Talisman Books forever,” I said.
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that,” Asher said, miffed.
“Why not? It’s one corner of your lab, and it’s…downright cozy.” I stretched across the loveseat, holding my coffee cup out in front of the crackling fire to emphasize my point.
“It’s an Englishman’s proper study.” It was adorable how deeply insulted he sounded. “Oh, never mind.” He gave up, exasperated. “We’ll all be in the Council’s not-so-cozy prison soon and it won’t matter.”
Matt glowered at him. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was pessimism. He’d once told me he saw it as a disease spreading across teams.
“It seems like everyone’s out to get us,” Liv said, proving Matt’s point.
“Not everyone,” Matt said. “Chris is giving us time to figure this out.” True to his word, the guardian rep hadn’t filed a report on our coven’s doings in Seattle. Instead he’d boarded a plane headed for Asia. Hopefully, he’d stretch out that open case at the Hong Kong Demongate to do his old friend a solid. “We’re going to hack this investigation and clear our names.” He was clearly trying to rally us.
“Hack.” Asher sat up like he’d received an electric shock. “Hold on, our lovable—yet overbearing—watchdog might be onto something.” He scooted off the leather couch and stalked over to his desk. At the press of a button, a monitor rose from the desk. He pulled the keyboard out from a hidden draw. “We’ll hack into the Fidei system and read the files on their investigation.”
“Dude, you know that’s not what I meant.” Matt gave Asher a horrified look. “If they see you’ve hacked into their system—”
“I’m not going raise any red flags.” Asher’s confidence was contagious. “I’ll get someone on the inside to do it for us.”
