by Robyn Bachar
When we finished the map I stood back and hugged my arms to my chest. It was a lot of pushpins. We’d had to send Marie out to buy more. All those people, missing and presumed dead. Parents, children, somebody’s brother, somebody’s grandma…and not a squeak about it on the news. How terrifying was that? All those people snatched from their homes and no one had noticed. Part of that was our fault, because magicians have always lived at arm’s length, away from our straight neighbors. But there had to be some sort of mysterious cover-up going on as well. That, or in the digital age we really didn’t know or care who our next-door neighbors were, unless they were on Facebook or on a sex-offender registry.
“You know what’s wrong with this picture?” I asked.
“There’s a lot wrong with this picture,” Lex said.
“Right. And we’re the only ones looking at it as a whole, like this. Except for maybe Zach…but you know what I mean, right?” I asked.
Lex nodded. “Each group is handling the problem on their own.”
“Like usual. No one wants to talk to those people.” I shook my head. “We need to form some kind of rebel alliance to fight the hunter empire.” He nodded again and peered at me. “What?” I asked. Did I have food on my face?
“I’m picturin’ you with a blaster and your hair up in space buns.”
I laughed, and Lex grinned and kissed me, but my expression sobered as I looked up at him. “Seriously. How do we get all these people to work together? Harrison said he’d try to arrange it, but I don’t think they’ll listen to him. Would they listen to a guardian? Like if Marie and your other two local buddies called some sort of meeting?”
“It usually doesn’t fall into a guardian’s area of expertise, but I think it could work. It’s worth a shot.”
I winced at the word shot, considering our trigger-happy enemy. I really hated guns. They were so indiscriminate. You could fire into a crowd and hit twenty people aside from your target. That didn’t happen with a sword, unless it was an extra-special episode of Mythbusters, and robots or explosives were also involved.
Marie was put in charge of rallying the other guardians and organizing our big magician meeting, and I memorized the ritual. It was fluffy, complicated magic. It was also one of those spells that used up the wacky ingredients in it regardless of whether or not you cast it right, so if I mispronounced a word, we’d have to figure out a way to get another mug-o’-Harrison blood. And I suspected he’d know we were up to no good by that point, which would make it nigh impossible to try it a second time.
Well, I just had to get it right on the first try.
Faust arrived on the third night with a short glass bottle, reminding me of a fat beer bottle. He popped into our living room while Lex and I were home alone watching a movie, and we both jumped. Thank the gods we weren’t making out on the couch.
“Zachary’s blood, freely given, as requested.”
“Thank you. Are you going to be okay? He’s going to go ballistic,” I said.
Faust seemed taken aback for a moment, but then he smiled. “I am touched by your concern for my welfare. Zachary will be angry, of course, but he cannot harm me.”
“Good.” I didn’t want him to get hurt on my behalf. Too many people did.
“If you’ll excuse me, I must be on my way. Good luck with your ritual.”
“Thanks.”
He handed me the bottle, and it was warm. I screwed my face into an expression of ultimate eww! What was I supposed to do with it? Put it in the fridge? Donated blood was usually refrigerated, right? Faust left, and I turned to Lex.
“What do I do with this?”
“Let’s use it.”
“Now?” I asked, my voice squeaking. Nervous nausea crashed through my stomach like a tsunami. I was not prepared for this.
“No time like the present,” he replied.
Lex rose and helped me to my feet, and I followed him down into the basement. No time like the present. Yeah, sure. The sooner the better, right? Every moment I stayed stuck to Zachary Harrison put my life in danger, and now the life of my future-guardian spawn. I glanced down at my belly. Poor kid. I thought I had it bad as the child of a witch and a sorcerer-turned-necromancer. Our kid would have an outcast witch and a former guardian as parents. Lex was probably still good role-model material. Me? Not so much. I deserved to be in time-out for a decade or so.
We’d already laid out the rest of the spell ingredients and traced out the circle in the middle of the floor in the workout room. The arcane runes looked bizarre surrounded by exercise machines, but it was the best spot in the house to try this. I placed the bottle on the floor in the center of the circle and then walked back out to plop my butt down on a weight bench and pull my socks off.
“You have to stay outside the circle,” I reminded Lex for the zillionth time.
“I know.”
“I know that you know, but if the spell hurts me you’re going to want to leap in and save me, and you have to fight that urge.”
“I know,” he repeated.
“I know that you know. But I’m serious. Saving the damsel is in your DNA. You need to overcome that.”
Lex nodded, but didn’t argue further. He stood looking over the circle, tall and intimidating, his hands on his hips. If I were that circle, I’d be scared. The concrete floor was chilly against my bare feet as I stood at the circle’s edge. A million excuses for not stepping inside just yet flew through my thoughts—I should pee first, I needed to check my e-mail, I should reread the words of the incantation again. I took a deep breath, stepped inside, and crossed to the eastern candle.
Most rituals follow the same basic formula. Form the circle, cast the spell, open the circle, and celebrate your success. I hadn’t done a lot of formal rituals like this, but I’d done enough to be confident that I wouldn’t fuck up calling the elements. East for air, south for fire, west for water, north for earth. Though honestly, as a Chicagoan, east was water in my book, but I wasn’t going to argue with tradition. I picked up a barbeque lighter and used the flame to breathe life into each candle, and the wicks burst to life with a twinge of magic. Next I spoke the spell to summon the elements at each point. The words were overwrought for my taste, but they boiled down to what I was used to—asking the elements to be present and to protect me.
I’d need plenty of protection for this.
With the circle complete, I knelt in the middle, the ingredients spread out before me. Everything was a purifying agent, meant to wash away the dark bond that had been burned into my spirit. I stirred the ingredients into the cauldron—yes, I own a cauldron, but it’s small, like a popcorn bowl. Instead of forming a lumpy soup, each ingredient disintegrated, as though beamed away by Scotty. A green fog formed from the energy of the ingredients, and it swirled around the cauldron.
Now for the hard part. I uncorked the bottle of Harrison’s blood and poured it into the cauldron.
“I offer the blood of my master, freely given,
To undo the bond that was forged unbidden.
No more will I hear his call and feel his pain,
Let my spirit stand free and be purged of this stain.”
The magical fog blackened, and I winced. Was it supposed to do that? It didn’t explode, so I continued. I cut my palm, hoping this was the very last blood I’d have to shed on Harrison’s behalf, and held it over the cauldron.
“I offer my blood, the servant thrice bound,
To purify my spirit until no taint is found.
Servant no longer, my spirit set free,
Thus is my will, so mote it be.”
I plunged my bleeding hand into the cauldron, and the spell entered through the cut on my palm. I was expecting a bad reaction. I’d underestimated how bad.
Fire burned through my veins, shooting up from my palm and racing through every nerve ending in my body. I screamed and yanked my hand away, but it was too late. My limbs flailed as though I was having a seizure as I fell back onto the concrete floor.
Liquid agony pulsed in my veins, and I screamed and cursed and probably gave poor Lex a heart attack. I stared up at the drop ceiling, counting dots in the cheap Styrofoam tiles to distract myself from the pain. The sensation swelled, and I was sure I was about to burst into flames. Then I heard Zach scream out an anguished no in the back of my mind, and it vanished with a sharp snap as the pain subsided, and the only voice in my head was mine again.
I smiled.
“Cat!” Lex yelled. The shout buzzed in my ears, and I frowned. I turned my head and spotted him on the floor, just outside the circle. “Cat, honey, look at me. Say something.”
I blinked. Words. I was sure I remembered some of those. My mouth was dry, and I licked my lips.
“Can you hear me? Say something, sugar, or I’m gonna break the circle.”
“I’m fine,” I wheezed. Oh man, my throat hurt like I’d chain-smoked a pack of cigarettes while downing shots of Jack.
“Can you move?”
“Dunno.”
“How ’bout you sit up real slow, okay?”
“Okay.”
I didn’t have the energy to nod, but I rolled to my side and propped myself up on my arms. My palm was still bleeding, and I smeared blood on the floor as I pushed myself the rest of the way upright. I stared down at the cut and willed it shut, and once I was no longer bleeding I took a few more deep breaths and struggled to my feet.
“Talk to me,” Lex instructed.
“That hurt like a motherfucker,” I said.
“Better now?”
“Yeah, better now. I’m going to open the circle.”
I shuffled from point to point counterclockwise, thanking the elements and pinching out the candles. For some reason it was considered offensive to blow them out—I figured it was similar to the taboo of spitting on a birthday cake when you blow out your candles. The protective energy of the circle dissipated, and I was in Lex’s arms a heartbeat later.
“It is over?” he asked.
“I can’t hear him anymore or sense him. It worked. I’d say celebratory sex was in order, but I hurt like hell.” Lex grinned and kissed me, and I instantly changed my mind. I clung to him, kissing him deeply with all the pent-up passion I had. “I love you.” I grabbed the hem of his T-shirt and tugged it off, over his head.
“I thought you just said you wanted to wait,” he pointed out, sounding amused.
“Changed my mind.”
I dragged him over to the exercise mats—half the exercise we did on them was the horizontal mambo. I jumped him. There was no other way to put it. Filled with newfound energy, I threw my husband down and ravished him, and he did not complain one bit. Not that I expected him to—Lex could be on the alpha-male side, but he had no problems with me taking charge. I kissed, caressed, stroked, licked, nipped, straddled and rode him until we were both spent. And it takes a lot to wear that man out, so the sex took far longer than the spell had. I reveled in it. This was the first time as a married couple that I enjoyed him with no buzz in the back of my brain, trying to tempt me away to the dark side. It was just us, husband and wife. Soul mates. As it was meant to be.
Exhausted, I lay atop his chest and smiled drunkenly. “You know, I’m starting to feel sentimental about these workout mats.”
Lex laughed, and the sound thrummed through me. “See, exercise is your friend.”
“No, sex is my friend. Exercise I’m still iffy about. But we should get dressed before your sister gets home and we scar her for life.”
“Marie won’t be home tonight. She said she’s workin’ on something. But we should get the spell cleaned up before the cats get into it.”
“Right.”
Good point. My cats got into my ritual stuff all the time and caused havoc. Patchouli oil is damn hard to get out of cat fur, and they walk around with the stink face for a few days afterward. We dressed and started cleaning up. I left Lex to mop the floor while I took the tools and reusable components back upstairs. I stowed the candles and my dagger in the study. There was nothing left in the cauldron but a filmy green residue, and I took it into the kitchen to wash it.
It was quiet as I filled the sink with water. I hate quiet. Most faerie-blooded people can’t stand silence. I think the iPod was invented with us in mind. I headed toward the living room to flip the stereo on, but all hell broke loose as the dogs erupted into angry, snarling barking. Startled, I bumped into an end table and knocked over the lamp atop it, and it shattered when it hit the hardwood floor. I cursed but ignored it, hurrying to see what the dogs were mad about. Bubba and Cesár were in the kitchen, trying to claw their way through the back door.
“Lord and Lady, what is your problem? I don’t care if there are squirrels out there.”
I flipped the back floodlight on, expecting to see a deer in the yard, but instead there were several men in black combat gear. For a moment my heart stopped, and I thought that Harrison had sent his goons to bump us off. Then I spotted the big, scary guns. Hunters.
The damn Prometheans were at our door. Boy, did those bastards pick the wrong house. The sound of cracking glass echoed through the kitchen, but nothing shattered. Bulletproof.
Whirling around, I ran, still barefoot, for the living room, and I scooped up my belt and strapped my sword and dagger on before heading for the basement. If Lex was still cleaning, he’d have the music up and wouldn’t know that the dogs had freaked the fuck out and we were under attack. I shouted for the dogs, and with them at my heels we barreled down the stairs. I slapped the off switch on the stereo and Lex looked up as the dogs rushed him, jumping and barking.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Hunters. Outside,” I gasped, struggling to catch my breath.
“How many?”
“Five or six?” I guessed. “Maybe more. I only saw the ones in the back.”
“Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll take care of ’em.”
I drew my rapier. “Fuck that. You go, I go.”
“Fine. Just stay behind me.”
Lex’s weapon appeared in his hands, and then he bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The dogs were right behind him, and I hurried to keep up as I tried to shield us. My magic had recovered from the ritual, but I only managed a thin barrier while moving. Better than nothing, and I could punch it up once we were standing still.
Loud crashes shook the house as the hunters battered at the doors, but these weren’t flimsy wooden doors, so they’d have to work at getting through them. The windows, on the other hand, were bulletproof but not battering-ram-proof, and hunters streamed into the living room through the broken front windows. Lex charged them, and as they raised their guns, their first few shots bounced off the shield. I kept close to him and put everything I had into our shield, so much so that I could see blasts of frost where it took hits.
“Portia!” I called, hoping for reinforcements. She didn’t show, and I cursed. Of all the times for her to be off on a field trip.
Instead of bullets skittering across the floor, I spotted tranq darts, and I frowned. The hunters rushed us once they figured out their darts were doing diddly-squat. I stood fast, knowing the shields would stop them. One of the nice things about Lex’s guardian spear is that the thing has reach, so he was able to skewer a hunter without stepping outside the shields. The hunter gurgled and fell, and I turned to see another one hit the barrier and stop cold. It looked confused, as confused as a man dressed head to toe in black-ops gear like a soldier in an Xbox game can look. He tilted his goggled head at me, and I flipped him off.
“I can do this all damn day, asshole. Get the fuck out of my house,” I snarled.
“Surrender and you won’t be harmed,” it ordered.
“Oh hell no. You motherfuckers burned down a soccer mom. I’m not buyin’ that bullshit.”
Before the storm trooper could pull another cease-and-desist order, the dogs went after his legs. He went down, and I stabbed my blade into his chest. Not bad. I was getting better at this. I sh
ould’ve felt bad for killing a human being—not a vamp, not a demon, but a person. I didn’t. Instead, I stabbed him a few more times with anger roaring through me, but I didn’t have time to linger, because there were plenty more of them.
Lex’d taught me to go for the weak spots in armor. The material may have evolved from chain mail to Kevlar, but the weak spots remained the same. I aimed for the neck, and I moved like a fencer. I’m not sure what they were trained to deal with, but it wasn’t me and Lex. We fought back-to-back and killed every motherfucker stupid enough to get close.
I made my first mistake when I heard one of the dogs yelp. I couldn’t see which one it was in the chaos, but Lex and I both flinched. My shields couldn’t protect the dogs. For a moment my heart froze, and then something broke inside me. Maybe it was that last brittle bit of my witch upbringing that said to do no harm. Maybe it was the last shard of mercy I had for people who surely couldn’t know what they were doing by killing innocent magicians. But most likely it was the part of me that cries when dogs die in movies. And that part of me latched on to the inner frost faerie I’d been learning how to tap into, and I lost my shit.
The kitchen sink exploded as I pulled watery fuel from it, and winter cold exploded from me like an atomic bomb of frosty anger. Ice blasted through the room and knocked everyone down except for me and Lex. We parted to make sure the bad guys stayed down, with extreme prejudice. I didn’t count them. I just stabbed and moved on to the next before they got up.
The sound of gunshots jerked my attention toward the front door, and Lex shuddered and fell. The world slowed, my ears ringing. A man with a gun stood in the doorway, swinging around to aim at me, and bullets pinged off my shields with sharp cracks of ice—guess they ran out of darts. Unlike the rest of the hunters we’d just taken out, this one wore a plain black suit and dark sunglasses. The sunglasses at night triggered my what the fuck? alarm, and it blared full blast as the man holstered his gun and hurled a fireball at me. I ducked, and the flames bounced off my shields and exploded against the wall.
