Twenty-Sided Sorceress 3 - Pack of Lies

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Twenty-Sided Sorceress 3 - Pack of Lies Page 13

by Annie Bellett


  “Wait, you sound really sure.”

  “You could say I’m dead sure,” I said, giving her a grim smile.

  “Okay, back up, when did that happen?” Harper slapped her laptop closed and sat up straighter.

  I sighed and told her the full story. Or almost anyway. I tried to leave out the part at the end.

  “You stopped off on Sunday morning and had a ninja battle? And you seriously didn’t think it was worth telling me about?” She shook her head at me. “Crazy lady.”

  “I killed a man,” I said softly. “I didn’t really want to talk about it.”

  “He’s not the first man you’ve killed,” Harper said with a shrug.

  I flinched. “I more than killed him,” I told her.

  Understanding dawned on her face, and she took a deep breath. “Good. You need more power to stop Samir, right? Why not use the tools you are given?”

  “This doesn’t remotely bother you, does it?” I searched her face but she only looked back at me with open, honest eyes.

  “Some people need killing,” she said.

  “Easy for someone who has never killed to say.”

  Harper went very still and then shrugged far too casually.

  “What?” I said. “Azalea! Who did you kill? When?”

  “Someone who needed killing,” she said. “You want the story, I want cake.” She pointed at the door.

  “Cupcakes okay?” I said, taking pity on her. She looked profoundly uncomfortable, and I understood the feeling. Talking about murder wasn’t a comfortable thing.

  “Lemon, please,” she said, relaxing a little.

  I grabbed my wallet and walked next door to Brie’s Bakery. The nice weather was holding and the morning sun sparkled off the display cases. The bakery smelled amazing as always. It was too late in the morning for the coffee and paper crowd and too early for the lunch crowd, so I almost had the place to myself, and there was no line. Two regulars sat at a table in the corner far from the door by the window, playing checkers and eating fruit tarts.

  I walked up to the front and contemplated the cupcake selection while Brie finished loading a fresh tray of Danishes onto a shelf. There was lemon today, but I wanted chocolate. Or vanilla. One of each? Oh, the difficult choices in front of me.

  “Hey, Brie,” I said when she turned around. “Two lemon and two vanilla with chocolate frosting.” I pointed at the cupcakes.

  “No,” she said.

  I straightened up and looked at her. Her normally cheerful face was cold and hard, all warmth missing from her eyes. Shit.

  “No?” I asked, confused.

  “You are not welcome here,” she said. Her eyes flickered to the two customers at the table and she lowered her voice, adding, “Sorceress.”

  My confusion melted away into unhappy anger.

  “I’m the same person I was yesterday, or last week. Or these last five years,” I said.

  “I will not clasp a snake to my breast,” she responded. “Now leave. You are banned from this place.”

  A snake? What? I backed away. “Brie,” I said, trying to think of words that would help, that would stop the hatred pouring off her. The air crackled with magic, her usual warm, healing power turning bitter and sharp to my senses.

  “Do not make me call the sheriff and have you arrested for trespassing,” she said.

  The two regulars stopped their game and looked up at us with wide eyes. We were starting to make a scene. I realized there was nothing I could say or do that wouldn’t just make things worse, so I turned and left.

  I walked the dozen steps back to my shop in a daze. The door chimed as I entered and Harper looked up.

  “No cupcakes?” she asked, seeing my empty hands.

  “The cupcakes were a lie,” I said, trying to joke through the tears that threatened.

  “Jade,” she said, not fooled for a moment. “What happened?”

  “Word is out,” I said. “As I knew it would be. Small town. Brie banned me for being a sorceress. She’s afraid of me now.”

  “But you’ve lived right next to her for, like, half a decade.”

  “She called me a snake,” I said. “Like I was just waiting to bite.”

  “She’s an idiot. I am never eating her pastries again. Ever. And neither will the twins or my mom or anyone else I know, once I tell them about this.”

  “Harper, that isn’t necessary. Sorcerers don’t have the best reps, you know that. She can’t be sure I’m not a danger to her.” Her fierce protectiveness made me smile and pushed down the sadness inside.

  “Fuck that. I bet that is all Samir’s fault anyway. You don’t deserve this shit.” She got up and wrapped me into a bony hug.

  “Thanks, furball,” I said, hugging her back. It was good to have friends.

  I sent Harper to get sandwiches an hour later, not quite ready to go back outside. I was pretty sure the sandwich guys at Pete’s Deli were human, but better safe than hungry.

  I was in the back part of the store, dusting off the painted display miniatures when my door chimed and my wards hummed, warning me of magic. The scent of cloves preceded the woman into my shop. I walked to the counter where she waited, recognizing the head librarian. I couldn’t recall her name, however. It started with a P, I thought. She was middle-aged, with brown hair laced with grey pulled up into a tidy bun. She had on jeans and a teeshirt that read “Books are Grrrreat” over the picture of a goofy-looking tiger.

  “Afternoon,” I said, though I had the feeling from the sharp scent of her magic that this wasn’t a social call or her wanting games or comics for the library.

  “I’ll make this brief,” she said, wrinkling her pale nose as though my shop smelled like dirty laundry. “You are not welcome in this town, sorceress. I require you to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Um, no?” I said, standing up very straight. I resisted the urge to summon my magic and push back on the power she had clearly readied and brought with her. A protective spell, I was guessing. I was willing to bet it was no match for what I could throw at her. But petty escalation wasn’t going to help my new PR issue. “I’ve lived here in peace for five years. I’m a business owner.”

  I didn’t mention I actually owned the whole building, including the bakery next door and Ciaran’s Curios. Both Ciaran and Brie leased from me, though neither knew it. I’d bought the building through one of my fake names and figured I’d let that part stay a secret.

  “We allowed you to stay because we thought you were just a young witch. You did not bother to introduce yourself to the coven, but we considered that ignorance on your part, not secrecy.”

  “Coven?” I said. “I had no idea there was a coven.” That meant there were at least twelve others. Great.

  “We are more powerful than you might believe,” she said, folding her arms across her chest. “Do not think you can come after us. Our power will never be yours.”

  “I don’t want your power, I have my own, thanks.” I dropped all pretense of politeness and glared at her. “I’m staying right here. Live with it.”

  “You have thirty days to leave. After that, we will make life very, very unpleasant for you,” she said, her mouth pressing into a tight pink line.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I said. “Are you seriously threatening me?”

  “Thirty days,” she repeated. “Or else…”

  I started to ask her “Or else what?” but was interrupted by Ciaran.

  The leprechaun who had been my friend and neighbor for half a decade filled the doorway of my shop and clapped his hands together sharply, drawing both my and the witch’s attention.

  “Peggy Victoria Olsen,” he said in a booming voice that was completely at odds with his short, stout stature. “You will not threaten my friend. Leave. Now.”

  “Ciaran, do you know what this woman is?”

  “She is my friend,” he said. “You have no power here, Peggy. No authority. Go. I am not so much a gentleman that I won’t make you leave by f
orce if I must.”

  Peggy the witch librarian sniffed loudly and turned on her heels. She stomped past Ciaran, who moved aside just enough to let her pass.

  I wanted to hug him, but settled for thanking him profusely in Irish.

  “Think nothing of it,” he said, accepting the offer of a seat in Harper’s chair. “I do not care what you are. Only who.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You’ve known this whole time, haven’t you?”

  He winked at me and tugged on a springy red curl near one of his oversized ears.

  “It’s a poor leprechaun I’d be if I couldn’t keep a secret or three,” he said. “Ah, there is Miss Azalea with your lunch, I think.” He stood up. “You are welcome for tea anytime, Jade Crow.”

  “As are you, Ciaran Hayes,” I said formally, offering my hands.

  He took them and squeezed briefly. Then, exchanging a greeting with Harper, he breezed back out my door with the same energy he’d entered. I felt a deep relief that he was still on my side.

  “What’d Ciaran want? Don’t tell me he’s banning you, too?” Harper said as she put the bag of sandwiches down on the counter.

  “No, he’s still my friend. The librarian, on the other hand…” I sighed.

  “Mrs. Olsen? What did she want?”

  “She’s a witch,” I said. “And she’s given me thirty days to leave town. Or else.” And with that I collapsed into giggles, because it was better than crying or screaming.

  After staying at the Henhouse for a few nights, it felt strange to be alone in my apartment again. I took a long bath and then put on a season of Clone Wars. I needed something fun to distract me from the events of the day. At least no one else had come in and threatened me or banned me from their business.

  I picked up the folded copy of the Wylde Gazette I’d grabbed from the counter in the store where Harper had abandoned it. The front-page article was about the Lansings. They had been reported missing on Tuesday by Jed’s sister. Last night they had been found, following a huge search effort. Their car had apparently gone off the road and caught fire in one of the more twisty parts between here and Bear Lake. The bodies had been so burned that the cops refused to confirm it was the Lansings, but the VIN on the car matched, so the paper was comfortable reporting it.

  I didn’t know how Alek had managed that one, but I guessed it gave the family closure while still protecting the shifters. Balance again. I sighed and tossed the paper into the recycling.

  I heard the creak of someone coming up my back stairs and paused by the kitchen door. A light tap followed, and I opened the door.

  Alek stood there with a bag of Chinese in his hand and a gentle smile on his face.

  “You are getting sloppy,” I said. “I heard you coming up the stairs.”

  He shrugged. “I made noise on purpose.”

  “Sure you did. That lo mein?”

  We settled down on my couch with chopsticks and passed the boxes back and forth, just eating and sharing company for a while. After my belly was full of noodles and spicy chicken, I told him about my day.

  “It will be more difficult for you here now,” he said with a sigh. “But you will stay?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m sort of in for the penny and the pound at this point. I am done running away from my problems. From now on I run at my problems, preferably armed to the teeth.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “What about you?”

  “Me?”

  “Yes,” I said. I set down my chopsticks and curled up on the couch beside him, tucking my feet under his thigh. “The Council didn’t send you back here. You told Eva that.”

  “No. I came back because I missed you. Missed this.” He waved a hand around, gesturing at the apartment, at the food, at me. “I ran into Henry at a gas station outside town. He was searching for his mate and recognized me. He thought I was here to help him, and I let him believe that.”

  “You totally lied,” I said, smiling to take some of the bite out of my words.

  Alek ducked his head and took a deep breath. “Yes. I maintain that you are a bad influence.” That thought seemed to sober him further and he looked at me, searching my face. “Before, when I left? It was because the Council sent me away.”

  “To help somewhere else, to work a case, right?” I reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear.

  He pressed his cheek into my palm. “Yes, and no. They warned me to stay away from you. They do not want me here.”

  I looked into his ice-blue eyes and saw shadows lurking there. “What else?” I asked, because I knew there was more he wasn’t saying.

  “They showed me my death,” he said, his voice dropping almost to a whisper, a growl. “They showed me that if I stayed here, I would die.”

  “I don’t fucking accept that,” I said, curling my fingers into a fist and pulling my hand back. “They didn’t warn you about Eva. They didn’t send anyone to stop what happened here. I’m sorry, Alek, but I am beginning to seriously doubt this Council of yours.”

  I had watched him dying beside me, had felt the poison burning away his heart. No way was I ever going to let anything happen to him. Never. Fuck the Council and their stupid visions. I was a sorceress. I would change the future, make it mine.

  “I am, as well,” he said so quietly I thought I’d imagined the words. He wrapped his hands around mine, warming me. “I still sense them. I still have my gifts, my talisman. I do not know what their plan is. But I will stay here. That is not negotiable anymore.”

  “Good,” I said. “Because we have some serious talking to do.”

  “We do?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Should I be nervous?”

  “No, but I want to know you, Alek. I mean, I don’t even know if you have a family, siblings. Where you grew up. Anything. You’ve at least met my family.”

  “You never asked,” he said. “And I only met your family because someone tried to kill them and they came asking for help. You didn’t exactly share their existence or that you’d been born to shifters before that.”

  Touché. Another point for Alek.

  “All right, so both of us need to be better about this whole actually sharing thing.” I made a face at him.

  He dragged me into his lap and tucked my head under his chin. I curled against his impossible warmth, relaxing into him.

  “I was born in Siberia,” he said, his voice rumbling and making his chest vibrate against my cheek. “In the Irkutsk Oblast.”

  “Gesundheit,” I said.

  “Hush, kitten. If you want others to talk, you first must be silent.”

  I leaned up and nipped his chin. “Go on. Siblings?”

  “I have two siblings. A brother and a sister.”

  “Let me guess, you are the oldest?” He seemed like an oldest, with his overdeveloped sense of responsibility.

  “Technically, I suppose. By a minute or so.”

  “Wait,” I said, sitting up and twisting in his lap so I could look at him. “You are a triplet? That’s like crazy rare, right?”

  “Yes, well, Mother was an overachiever.” His eyes were unfocused, looking at memories far away and long ago. I remembered then that he was over sixty years old.

  “Was? She’s dead?”

  “She died giving birth to us. Hemorrhaged, but she refused to shift with us inside her—she was convinced it would kill us. By the time they cut us out, it was too late.”

  Oh. I laid my head back down on his chest. “Are you close to your siblings? Did your father raise you?”

  “We are tigers. I do not even know who my father was.” I felt him shrug. “We were raised by my grandmother. She lives still, in Russia. It has been a long time since I spoke with her, or my siblings.”

  “When did you become a Justice?”

  “I was sixteen when I was called, chosen. Carlos, who you met at Three Feathers, came to me not long after and took me away to the States for training.”

  “And you’ve never been bac
k?”

  “I have. But it was not the same.”

  I understood that, too. “Thank you for telling me,” I said.

  “Anything,” he murmured into my hair.

  Anything? I decided to test that. I sat back up.

  “When Eva triggered the bomb, did you see anything?” I recalled his face as he looked down at me, the awe there. I had caught hints of that awe in him, speculative glances in the days after.

  He looked away from me, staring into the middle distance again. Then shook his head. “I do not know. There was much chaos, people trying to leave, getting the doors open. Your magic shoved me away from you. Then there was a bubble of light, and inside…” He shook his head again. “I think I know what I thought I saw. But it is impossible. And the memory is unclear; it won’t stay for me to look at it.”

  “As though it’s something you knew but have forgotten and now can only remember that you have forgotten, but not what you forgot,” I said.

  “That almost made sense,” he said, smiling. “But yes, it is slippery like that.”

  “What do you think you saw?” I asked.

  “A dragon,” he said softly.

  “Oh.” I searched my own memory. The heat, the light, that lingering sense of wonder and power. No dragons.

  Alek pulled me tight against him and kissed my forehead. “I told you it was crazy.”

  “Crazy is my new middle name.” I nuzzled his neck, glad to be held. Glad he was whole and safe.

  “While we are on the subject of crazy things,” he said.

  “Go on.” I licked his throat. He even tasted like vanilla. I probably tasted like soy sauce.

  “I love you, Jade Crow,” he said.

  I froze, my mind going blank for a moment. I struggled to form the perfect response, to find the words to tell him how much hearing that meant to me, how my life was better with him in it, how I wanted to give us a real chance, to make this relationship work and let our past be damned. I hesitated too long, unable to find the right words to begin, and the moment stretched out and became awkward.

 

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