by Sierra Cross
“Magic decides,” Asher said. “The energy of a coven is like a living being. As it grows it forms into the shape it’s destined to take. The tattoo has just revealed the shape of our coven.”
“But it’s decided wrong,” I said. “Liv is way better at magic than me.”
“Yeah,” Liv agreed too heartily. “No offense,” she added.
“Well, it’s not up to us,” Asher said.
Leader? My whole life I’d been on my own. Didn’t want to follow or be followed. I didn’t even know what it meant to be a good leader. I’d have to deal with the ramifications of that later. Right now, I had to figure out what this meant for Matt. “So how does it work? I mean, is it happening real time? How do I talk to him through the vision?”
“Sorry. It’s a one-way connection.” Asher shrugged. “When a coven member gets an adrenaline kick—pain, fear, panic—a vision window opens. You can’t send a message back or make him do anything, but he may sense that you saw him.” He rubbed his neck. “And on that note, I’m going to call it a night.”
Liv looked at Asher like he was an alien creature. “Didn’t you just hear what Alix said?” Liv asked. “Matt is in trouble.”
“But it’s passed now. Otherwise the vision would continue,” Asher said, almost flippantly. “Our Matt would never take his own life. Won’t happen.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I was in his head. He’s in a bad way.” Those words seemed laughably inadequate to describe the self-loathing and revulsion he was feeling.
“Bad way or no,” he said, “this is still Matt we’re talking about. To a guardian, is suicide the honorable way out of this mess?”
My stomach sank with the awful realization. “Oh god.” Asher was right. Matt wouldn’t take his own life. No, he’d do something even worse. “We have to stop him,” I said, “before he turns himself in.”
A ten-minute Lyft ride later, we were at Liv’s mid-rise condo, all the way across Capitol Hill on the edge of Eastlake. The sashless windows revealed the twinkling city lights reflecting across Lake Union. Liv was using Matt’s sunglasses—his personal effect that allowed her to connect to him—to scry over a map of the US spread across her weathered farmhouse kitchen table. I was doing my best to guide her in the general direction of where I sensed him now.
Meanwhile Asher had checked out of our scrying project and was sitting scrunched down on the teal rectangular armchair in the living room. He sat there playing with his phone, booted feet on the artsy coffee table, letting his body process all the liquor he’d consumed.
“He’s a grown man,” Asher muttered. “Not some pound puppy.”
“Compassion much?” Liv said, without looking at him.
“I’m just saying.” His long fingers scrolled with ennui. “Maybe give him a minute to get his shit together on his own. I know I would not take kindly to being hounded.”
“We’re not hounding him,” I said. “And you weren’t in his head. He needs us. We’re his coven. And if I was in your head and I felt what I just felt in Matt? You bet your ass I’d be tracking you down whether you liked it or not.”
To my surprise Asher looked up from his phone and gave me a lingering look that I couldn’t decipher. “Let’s hope,” he said, “for both our sakes that you never end up in my head.”
I shrugged. Whatever that was supposed to mean.
While Liv scried in silence, I glanced around the apartment. Liv’s place looked like a magazine spread for a hipster New York magazine, in a good way. Nothing matched, yet everything went together. Her style had to have come about organically, a collection of things she’d picked up along her adventures. A 1950s restaurant sign turned into a coffee table. A Tibetan prayer rug that looked ancient. A yellowing coyote’s skull on the bookshelf. I was especially curious about a framed picture on the wall of her in a center of a biker gang. I felt sure there was a story behind everything in this room. Over our drinks at Sanctum, she’d invited me to stay with her for a while, given the total destruction of the Air B&B. So I was another thing she’d picked up along the way.
“Tennessee,” Liv said definitively.
“Tennessee?” Not only was Matt not in Seattle, he was all the way across the country? “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive.” Liv made a circle on the map with red marker. “Looks like it’s in the mountains.”
“What would he—” I started, but Asher cut me off.
“Decommissioned guardian training facility,” he said. “They closed it in the late nineties when they were consolidating bases.”
“Right.” I thought back to Matt reminiscing about the camp with Chris Hasley, his best friend. I remembered thinking at the time how weird it was they were sharing stories about going through boot camp together when Chris was ten years older—the age Matt would have been if he hadn’t been trapped in the Void. “We should—”
“No.” Asher sat up, feet hitting the ground with an uncharacteristic thud. “Before you even think of it. We are not following him there.” He waggled a finger at me. “He’s doing some soul-searching. Let him be.”
“I’m not saying Asher’s right.” Liv seemed be weighing all that was on our plate. “But Matt did choose to leave.”
“You two can do whatever you want,” I said. “But I’m going to that training camp.”
“Wait a minute, what about getting Masumi’s videos out into the world?” Liv asked, anger going from zero to sixty in a heartbeat. “And what about us helping Callie, she’s been languishing for weeks—”
“She’s been dead for weeks,” Asher said, not softening his tone.
“You don’t know that!” Liv shouted. “None of us know that for sure. She’s our coven member too. And she didn’t choose to leave us. And we’re not doing a damn thing to help her. I need to get into that reading room.”
Asher wisely decided to hold his tongue, but I could see the gears working in his brain. He was desperate to cure her of her delusions. As for me, my heart felt like it was on a medieval rack, being pulled so fiercely in different directions I feared it would rip in two. The Callie who taunted me on the loading dock was not my coven sister, but if was there was a miniscule chance that the real Callie still existed somewhere inside that evil shell...? I’d do anything to help her. The fact remained, at this moment, there was nothing I could do for Callie. But I could do something for Matt. It felt like my guardian was slipping further away with every minute that passed.
“I’ve got to find him.”
“You’re like a dog with a bone, you know that,” Asher said, but he’d already given in, I could tell. “Or a girl with a trouser snake,” he muttered under his breath.
I turned and drilled him with an arctic glare. “You know damn well this isn’t about that.” Yes, I wanted Matt. But he meant more to me than some sexual crush object. “I would do the same thing for Liv. Or for you.”
A rare look of seriousness crossed Asher’s face. “I wouldn’t run out on you.” And then his trademark snark returned. “I’m not some scared puppy.”
Great, Matt had been demoted from watchdog to puppy. I reminded myself that Asher was having a difficult time dealing with—or rather, not dealing with—Marley’s death. “I know Marley’s death hit you hard—”
“Point taken.” Asher raised his hands up in a gesture that told me he wanted me to stop talking immediately. He did not want the mirror turned toward him.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay with leaving Callie behind.” Liv’s anger diverted my attention away from my anger at Asher. “But I won’t quit on her.” She plopped down on the hard, wooden chair like a huge weight landed on her shoulders. “And it’s not just her. The proof Dr. Shimizu collected will be burning a hole in my heart until we as a coven do something about that. And then there’s maintaining the Demongate.” She stared stone-faced. “I’m not going.”
I wanted to shout back that I was. And just because we were a coven didn’t mean we had to do everything together. “Ma
kes sense for you to stay and take care of things here.” I nodded to Liv.
“And you’d just, leave us here?” Liv said and then got a startled look on her face. She turned to Asher. “Unless you’re planning on blindly following our fearless leader?”
Asher shifted his feet. Wait, was he coming with me?
“I just think it’s a good idea—” he began apologetically.
“Don’t even. You just finished saying we need to let him figure it out on his own.” She fixed him with a surgical gaze. “Unless you just don’t want to be left here alone with me?”
“Liv…” Asher’s placating tone surprised me.
As did Liv’s cool, sharp response. “Don’t.”
I took a step back from the table. “What is up with you two?” There was a story here that I was not getting, and it was big. This was more than just a steamy kiss.
Asher and Liv looked in opposite directions. Neither one spoke.
“Well, then I guess we’re all great?” I said sarcastically. Their expressions remained blank. Fine, I would let it go, for now. My skull was already on the verge of exploding from everything we’d learned today.
“I think the two of you should just go,” Liv said. “I’ll take care of our real responsibilities.” She forced a laugh. “And just last month I was thinking that life was getting a bit routine.” She dropped Matt’s sunglasses on the kitchen table and stomped to her bedroom. The slamming of the door let me know the conversation was done for tonight.
Asher pulled out his phone again. “I’ll book us tickets.”
Whoa. Harsh. “You think Liv’s okay? Should we—”
“Do you want to find Matt or not?” He pulled out his credit card.
Crap, I hadn’t thought about the money part of this equation. “I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“Don’t be daft, we’re a coven. What’s mine is yours.”
He said it with such conviction that I was dumbfounded. On one hand he seemed so callous, and on the other he was so all-in. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out…”
“Don’t be ridiculous. That’ll never happen.”
Chapter Five
The jet engine groaned as the red-eye to Knoxville, Tennessee lurched into the inky night sky. Asher had magnanimously offered me the window seat, saying, “It’s all right, luv, I could sleep on a bike.” I wasn’t about to turn down his offer, although a bike sounded preferable to Asher’s center seat next to a large man hogging the armrest. Our flight attendant announced that once we reached altitude they’d begin with beverage service. I glanced at Asher and wondered if he would take the opportunity to reload on cocktails. He’d been imbibing pretty heavily the last couple of weeks—since Marley’s death, now that I thought about it. I hoped he found a way to deal with his grief before he developed a liver problem.
Asher and I had gone back to the bookstore and transferred a copy of Masumi’s video onto my phone. Matt needed to see it, and this was the only way to make that happen. Clearly Masumi wouldn’t have made the same choice, but I reassured myself that we’d used the most stringent precautions magic allowed. Still, even with all the wards Asher had thrown over my phone to encrypt the video, it felt like I was carrying around nitroglycerin.
I was vaguely aware of the cabin lights dimming and then I was out.
I awoke with a jolt from a dream about a Caedis in my bedroom. Flinging my fist at the phantom demon, I caught Asher right on the jaw. Instantly awake and ready to fight, he looked around. At the edge of his gloves, faint gold from his Chimerian tattoos glowed in the dark cabin. “What the hell, Alix?”
“Sorry. Bad dream,” I said, and winced, trying to straighten my neck. Someone had replaced the bones with barbed wire. This felt like one of those spasms that would take days to clear up. Not surprising after two car rides and now the equivalent of sleeping in a glove compartment. From behind all the pulled window shades, I could see the hint of a rosy dawn beginning to break. “Go back to sleep, Asher.”
He rubbed his jaw. “Not bloody likely now.” He watched as I gingerly tried to stretch my head up from my shoulders. “Face the window,” he commanded.
“What? No.”
“Just do it.” He pulled off his gloves and stretched his long fingers.
I rolled my eyes, but turned to the window. “Don’t those things slow you down?” I asked.
“What, the gloves? I could burn them off in an instant. But all the glove shopping got tiresome.” He rested his hands on the top of my shoulders, as if he was getting the lay of the land. “I can glamour my hands so the Wonts don’t see the tats moving. But the constant drain of power, no matter how slight, is annoying.” The tip of his thumb pressed between two warring muscles. Bullseye. The pain and relief were equally astounding. But I didn’t know if I was up for getting a massage from Asher. “Just relax. I can’t have you traipsing through the wilderness all gimpy.” What did I have to lose? I let my muscles go slack as his hands worked. I was amazed at the strength in his fingers. They moved, kneading with precision, hitting and releasing a minefield of knots across my shoulders and up my neck. Damn, I did need this. And just as I was thinking how good it felt, a warming tingle seeped into my muscles, flooding through my body, delighting my senses. The amp was at an eleven. I couldn’t help it, a groan escaped me. Was he using his powers? It wasn’t like Matt’s healing magic. It was more like the best hot rock massage I’d ever had. I turned and caught a glimpse of the swirling tattoos and a self-satisfied grin on his face.
“Eh” he scolded. “Face the window.”
I now had a pretty good idea why the women in his life kept coming back despite his player bullshit. With the way they liked to hang on, I wondered where else he had tattoos? I scrubbed that thought from my head quickly.
“All done.” Asher removed his hands. “Stretch your neck out now.” His face was unguarded as he looked at me with his big grey eyes, lashes so dense they almost looked fake. Why did I get the feeling a layer of the onion had been peeled back, that I was looking at a deeper level of Asher, one I hadn’t seen before?
I stretched. My body felt like I just came from hot yoga or a day lounging at the beach. “That was amazing.”
“We all have our gifts.” He shrugged off the compliment. “And that one doesn’t even come close to topping my list.” He raised his eyebrow at me, comically lascivious and the genuine moment that passed between us was gone.
I smacked him on his shoulder. “You really are a dog.”
“Correction,” he said. “A very skilled dog.”
Was he flirting? That was weird. What was up with Asher lately? He hadn’t aimed his hound-dog quips at me since the days when he was a just a regular at Sanctum. Ever since we’d become a coven, he’d been nothing but brotherly...to me.
“Hey, spill. What’s really going on with you and Liv?”
“Nothing.”
I glared at him.
“She and I had a few drinks and had some extracurricular fun.”
“What? She’s a big girl,” Asher said. “As she has told me repeatedly.”
“Liv isn’t some chippie in a bar—”
“Not that it is any of your business, but she knew exactly what I was offering.”
“She’s adores you. You knew that.”
“It was between two consenting adults. Neither of which was you.” He turned away, closing the door on our conversation.
The jolt of the wheels hitting the runway rattled my bones, but my muscles still felt like butter.
By the time we parked our rental car in the wooded lot, the sun was blazing in the brilliant, jewel-blue sky. Living in Seattle, I wasn’t used to such brightness and felt like a mole dragged into the light of day. I pulled Matt’s sunglasses off my head and put them on.
Spring came early to these parts. The path to the compound was visible, but overgrown. As we hiked the mile to the entrance of the guardian training facility, a thin sheen of sweat rose on my skin and trickled down my
back. Too hot of a day for hiking in my black skinny jeans. The air smelled sweet, scented with generations of dry pine needles. Rhododendrons and azaleas sported heavy buds. Birdsongs overlapped the cicadas rhythmic chant. There was a huge contrast between the Spelldrift and the feeling of this energetic boost, but both were powerful. Mother nature was free here, untouched by human sounds. I could easily see why Matt would come here to think.
The closer we got to the compound, the more butterflies took flight in my belly. Would he listen to me? Would he at least watch the video? God, I didn’t want to see it again, but for him I would. The anticipation of seeing him tingled over my whole body.
Asher swatted at invisible bugs. “Of course he would make a beeline past the edge of civilization,” he muttered.
“It’s called nature. It’ll do you good.”
“I’ll probably get malaria.”
“Suck it up, buttercup.”
“Bah,” he snorted. But even here on bumpy terrain and totally out of his element Asher moved with a grace and confidence that was rooted in his bones. His gloves were tucked in his back pocket, his black shirt unbuttoned, revealing all his tattoos—well, all the tattoos I knew about. He wasn’t saying it, but he was prepared for a not-so-warm welcome.
The moment we ducked under the half-assed attempt to bar the gate, I felt tingles brush over my limbs. I turned to Asher. “Is that—?”
“The remnants of a ward.” He looked unconcerned. “Probably in a slow state of decomp.”
The compound spread out in front of us. It was what I had seen in my vision, only now I was looking at it in the light of day. Rows of bunkhouses and outbuildings circled the immense training field. Its once shorn grass now blew in the breeze like the Midwestern prairies. There was a large building straight ahead. The mess hall? Moss grew in thick swathes over all the roofs. Windows were broken. It was a woodland ghost town. My gaze landed on the huge firepit, and a chill ran down my spine. Matt’s long-necked beer bottle was still resting on the stone where I’d seen him leave it in the vision.
