by Sierra Cross
“Matt!” I shouted and spun around, searching.
“Oh, Matthew!” Asher called out, mocking me and calling for Matt at the same time. “Your babysitters are here.”
“Maybe he’s off hiking?” I suggested.
I heard twigs breaking in the brush and a rustle of leaves.
“Oh, Matty—”
“Wait.” I froze at the edge of the clearing. “Did you hear that?”
Footsteps were heading away from us into the woods. My feet moved to pursue them but Asher grabbed my arm, yanking me to a stop. “It’s not Matt,” he said in a hushed tone.
“How do you know?”
“Listen. It’s more than one person.”
“Whoever they are, maybe they’ve seen him.” I tried to wrestle my arm out of his grip but he held fast.
“I have an idea.” Asher threw down his arms and magic bloomed on his hands. Instinctively I matched his motion, but stayed by his side. He raised his arms over his head and flung what looked like a magic blanket. A sheet of ethereal gold light, so tightly compressed it looked solid and even fuzzy. It sailed through the air, out into the woods, passing harmlessly around the trees, and out of sight. What was that? This wasn’t a spell that I had seen before.
I heard a yelp, and a thud of bodies hitting the ground. Asher motioned for me to follow him a few feet into the woods.
Tangled in sticky golden magic were two young teenage boys. As I got closer I could sense the musky signature of shifters.
“Who the heck are they?” I blurted out.
“We didn’t do anything! Let us go!” The smaller, redheaded one yelled in a voice more scared than angry. The taller boy worked at pulling the magic off his skinny legs, only to have it stick to his hands instead. Both had defiant panic in their eyes—bright orange eyes. I’d seen those eyes only once before. They were Omnis.
“How’d you get through our ward?” the redhead said as he too pulled at the golden strands that held him.
“That was your ward?” I asked, my mind reeling. So it wasn’t old and decaying. It was just...very crude. Because children made it. “What are you two doing out here?”
“Nunya,” the tall skinny boy shot back.
“What?” I leaned in.
“Nunya bizness.” He shifted to a fox form and tried to duck under the magic that clung to him. But it was no use, the magic still held fast.
I could see sweat beading on Asher’s forehead as he worked to keep the spell alive.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” I said. “We aren’t here for you. We’re looking for somebody else. A great big guardian with dark hair. Have you seen him?”
The boys stopped struggling. The redhead looked at me, awe on his face. “You’re Alexandra, aren’t you?”
At the sound of my full name, my heart stopped. Only Matt would have called me that. “Yes. And you’ve met Matt.”
“You know Kavon.” He spoke the name with reverence, like he was a superhero. “He tore up the lab I was born in breaking all of us kids out. He’s saved so many of us. And you saved him.” The redhead kid said, voice full of gratitude. One of the scenes on Masumi’s video mentioned Omni kids missing from a lab. Could these two be the ones being hunted by the Fidei?
“He’s famous with our kind.” The skinny boy was staring at me, no longer fighting against the magic strands that were holding him. “And so are you.”
“Me?” I was so taken aback I almost didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind me. Light footsteps, a lot of them.
“It’s all right,” Asher called to our unseen observers. “You can come out. We won’t hurt you.” He snapped his fingers, severing the flow of magic into his spell. The dense golden weave around the boys stretched taut and popped, like soap bubbles bursting in the air. And then it was gone, leaving no residue behind.
Whoever was out there stopped in their tracks. Only insects and leaves moved around us.
“It’s okay guys,” the redheaded boy yelled. “They’re Matt’s friends. They’re cool.”
From all around us, more teenagers came out of the woods. One after another, until we were surrounded by a dozen teens—ranging in age from maybe thirteen to seventeen, by the looks of them. Some shifting from animal to human form before my eyes. A sea of competing magical scents and signatures bombarded me. Shifter, warlock, fae, witch. All of it swirling together in an unusual bouquet of magic.
Oh my god, they were all Mals and Deviants.
Had Kavon freed all of them?
They stood watching us. Their quick twitchy movements told me they were uneasy and ready to bolt.
“You all live out here,” I said, with sad realization.
“Yeah.” A white-blond half-fae, half-shifter girl put her hands on her hips defiantly. “That okay with you?” Her tone made it perfectly clear she didn’t care what I thought.
“Take it easy, guys,” the redhead said, an implicit command. “Your guardian friend left something for you.”
“Matt’s gone?” My heart plummeted to the base of my stomach.
Asher and I followed the redheaded boy, who seemed to be their unofficial leader, into the clearing. The other kids trailed behind us as we headed out of the woods and back into the clearing at the edge of the camp. He pointed to the bunkhouse at the end of the row. From across the overgrown field, I could see a white piece of paper was pinned to the door, flapping in the breeze. “He left it for you up there.”
The butterflies in my gut nosedived, crashing and burning. With Asher right behind me, I sprinted through the grass and weeds that clawed at my ankles, scaled the rickety steps, tore the paper from the door. Tears blurred my vision even before I read it. I dreaded what was coming.
I knew you’d come for me, and I love the heck out of you guys for trying. For knowing what I am and coming anyway. But I don’t deserve it. I wish I could make you understand that. Lately things inside me are changing. My resolve to stay true to my vow is weakening—Alexandra, you know that better than anyone. Maybe these kids have innocent souls, but I don’t.
You three have the makings of a powerful coven. I’m so proud of you all, working together, constantly learning, doing whatever it takes. And now it’s my turn. I have to do the hard thing.
I have too much respect for all of you, and the work you have before you to put you in danger any longer. If I stay, I would only be a liability. You’ll find a way to complete the circle and make the coven whole—with someone that is worthy. You can’t see it now, but I know it is in your stars. The Coven of Fire will reach great heights.
Honor dictates that I make things right. Don’t mourn for me, instead celebrate me by succeeding. Protect the Demongate. Take care of one another. Continue the tradition.
Yours always,
Matthew Montgomery
Guardian First Class
“That blasted idiot,” Asher blurted out.
The kids meandered over.
“Your friend was totally messed up,” said the fae-shifter girl. “I mean he was nice and all—he bought us like a ton of groceries. But, like, totally depressed.”
I was too stunned to respond. The kids seemed to feel the weight of the moment and walked back onto the field, giving us a moment of privacy.
Loss and longing battled for top billing, but anger was quickly rising in the ranks. How could he? He took the feelings we had for each other—feelings deeper, more intense, and more real and honest than I’d felt for anyone—and used them to justify condemning himself? It felt like the ultimate betrayal. At the same time, my heart bled for this man, who’d been raised from boyhood to believe that his true nature was evil. How could a person come out of the other side of that emotionally intact? But Matt almost had. He was kind and compassionate. He was brave and heroic. And the very honor that led him down this dark road was exactly why I cared so much for him.
Asher didn’t seem to be struggling with the same complex feelings as I did.
“I didn’t think he was so indoctrina
ted that his head was completely up his ass.” He crumpled the note and flung it, setting it on fire with a flick of his finger as it sailed up in the air. It flamed out and turned black, glowing orange edges eating the paper to nothingness. Only grey ash fell back to the earth.
I gulped and reached up in a fruitless effort to touch the last thing Matt left for us. I sunk to my knees.
“Without him we’re not a coven,” was what I said aloud…but not what I was thinking. I hadn’t admitted it to myself, but every part of me needed Matt. The lie I’d been spouting, about how the coven needed him, cracked and shattered to smithereens. I missed his calming presence at my side. Missed the way our skills meshed in perfect rhythm, making battle a symphony. Missed his body close to my own, even if I never touched it. I’d been living on the hope that he would admit that he missed and needed me too. And that hope went up in ashes just like the note.
“That blasted fool’s going to turn himself in.” Asher towered over me, the fury in his grey eyes giving way to concern. “Damn it.” For all his bravado Asher seemed shaken. Was it fear for what would happen to Matt? Or was it me he was afraid for? I was too lost in my own fear and anger to figure it out.
“He said he would protect our coven. That it was his duty. Now he’s just leaving us. How’s that brave and honorable?” Blood pounded in my ears and my emotions seesawed inside me as the words churned out of my mouth, a weapon to beat back the pain of abandonment. But it wasn’t working. “I miss him. God, I miss him.” Tears streamed down my cheeks.
I scooted back and leaned against the weathered siding. Splinters scraped into my flannel shirt, piercing my undershirt and embedding in the skin on my back but I didn’t care. Asher had the good sense to leave me alone while I stole a minute to get my shit together. Rubbing my fingers over my coven tattoo, I tried to hop back into Matt’s vision. Nothing. He was to the east of us, that was all I could tell. And getting further by the minute. Where would he have gone to turn himself in? Was he already in guardian custody?
I looked up at Asher as he was putting his phone in his pocket. “Come on.” He yanked me to my feet.
Was he giving up that easily? Did he take my anger seriously? “We have to try and stop him,” I half shouted. Yeah, I just railed against him, but my heart ripped at the thought of just letting Matt go.
He spun and looked at me. “I know.” All playfulness gone from him. He exhaled. “He is all those things you think he is. Brave, honorable,” he said the words grudgingly, as if he really didn’t want to be saying them. “It’s his commitment to his honor that is making him do this. In his warped Boy Scout mind, he thinks he is protecting us—from him.” He suddenly stopped talking, as if warring with himself about whether he should say more or not. “You need him. Don’t you think I see that every time I look at you? Don’t you think I feel it every time I see you two together?” He looked away, like he’d said too much. “If you don’t at least try to stop him from making this colossal fuck up, you’ll never forgive yourself. And I could never let that happen.” His words came out tender and quiet. He scrubbed his face with his hands, tattoos swirling like they were caught in a whirlpool. “If that happens, we haven’t got a chance anyway.”
I stared at him. What was he talking about? Beneath that player facade, did he…actually want to be with me? What was I thinking. This was Asher. Lost in grief, the perpetual player, my coven mate. I was reading too much into this. “We…you mean the coven, right?” I said.
Asher swallowed and looked away, stewing. “Of course I mean the coven,” he said finally. He’s grey eyes were dark and cloudy. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
We walked down the porch steps to where the kids were sitting in the grass.
“When was the last time you saw Matt?” I asked.
“He was just gone when we woke up,” the redheaded boy said. “Don’t know where he went.”
“He’s gone to Barcelona,” Asher said with certainty. He turned to me. “Guardian Headquarters is the only place he’d turn himself in. I bought us tickets.” My mouth dropped open. Was that what he was doing on his phone? “We have some time to kill. Which is good, because I need a drink.”
Of course he did. But this time I was right there with him.
“Let’s ward this place so nobody else can sneak up on them,” I said, pointing to the ragtag group of kids. Thank goodness this type of ward was simple to build, unlike those that protected a Demongate. “Then we head for the airport bar.”
Chapter Six
We lucked out—the tiny airport had exactly one restaurant with a full cocktail menu, and Asher and I snagged seats at the crowded bar. After warding the Deviant kids’ hideout, we’d made the car ride down the mountain and back into Knoxville in silence. Asher drove, and I pretended to sleep, too full of emotion to handle a conversation. I was glad to have the bustle of travelers in the bar to distract me from the journey ahead.
Asher raised one gloved hand, instantly getting attention from the overworked bartender. “Whiskey, neat,” he said, lightly tapping my knee. “And the lady will be having…”
I hesitated.
“You’re going to have at least twelve hours to sleep it off.” He knew me too well.
“Stoli martini, dry, two olives.”
Asher nodded in apparent approval of my drink choice. His gaze remained on me for a moment longer than was comfortable. Was he searching for fissures in my armor, worried that my emotional dam was about to burst? Or was it something else? But then he turned his attention to the backbar, an ease in the way he leaned back in his chair. Maybe he wasn’t worried about anything.
The bartender plunked our drinks down in front of us and scurried back down the bar. To his credit, neither drink spilled a drop.
“Efficient,” Asher noted, “but totally lacking finesse.”
“Huh?”
“The bartender.” He glanced around, looking a bit wistful. “You know, this reminds me of how we met,” he said.
“This place?” Incredulous, I looked around the bar. A group of middle-aged men with Fighting Illini sweatshirts stretched taut over their beer guts sat in front of the TV. Obviously on the way to some sporting event to relive their glory days. A tired businesswoman in a wilted suit jacket sat draining her third glass of Chardonnay. “I don’t see it.”
“Oh, it’s no Sanctum,” he agreed. “But still…I remember the first time I saw you behind that bar. A virtuoso of mixology. I could see the magic you had buried so deep inside you. I was captivated…” His voice was veering dangerously sentimental but he switched on a dime. “And you were convinced you were a Wont.” He chuckled.
Wow. The memory of the person I had been slammed into me so hard my breath caught. Life had been so simple. And I’d been utterly unhappy. Always whining about what I’d lost—my parents, the magical talent I thought had passed me by, the chance to belong. Now that I’d tasted a piece of my destiny and saw how far I had to fall…I was on the verge of becoming a sappy mess. Bringing the cocktail glass to my lips, I knocked half of it back in one swallow.
“Enough,” Asher said sternly, as if he were reading my mind. “We’re here to forget about the weight of the planet that resides on our shoulders. Just for a couple of hours.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “Tell me about the weirdest place you ever had sex.”
“As if.” Gotta hand it to him. That was a rubber band snap to the wrist. I couldn’t stop thinking about a dumbwaiter at a country club I worked at one summer. But there was no way I’d tell him that story.
“All right, I’ll tell you mine if—”
“Please, no.” I held up my hand. “Some things you can’t unhear.”
“Party pooper.” He pouted and circled a finger at the bartender—the universal signal for another round.
“Are you always thinking about sex?”
Asher paused to consider like it was a serious question. “As long as my life isn’t in danger, yes. Even sometimes when it is…” He let the tho
ught hang there.
“How about hobbies?” I asked, looking for a tamer subject.
“That aren’t sex related?”
“Sheesh. Okay, how about your childhood? Back before you hit puberty.”
He laughed a deep warm laugh that drew me in. I matched him drink for drink as he told me stories of his life in rural England, of green moors and sheep and fresh baked bread. Of dodging his magic tutors and escaping the rigidity of his parents’ manor house to visit the tenants’ farms. The warmth of those hearty families helped compensate for his chilly, impersonal home life. The conversation could have felt heavy, but Asher seemed to take his past in stride, as if it had all been an adventure. In the middle of a story about bewitching a cat to talk to get free meat pies from the local butcher, he checked his watch. “Shit! Our flight is boarding.”
I stood and reached for my carry-on—but my head weighed a thousand pounds and was pulling me toward the floor. Asher snaked an arm around my waist before my balance was irrevocably lost. He threw my backpack strap over his shoulder with his fashionably-worn leather messenger bag.
“I thought you could hold your liquor.” He laughed.
“I can,” I slurred. “I mean, I usually can.” I didn’t get drunk. Maybe a little buzzed from time to time. Then I remembered, we broke rule number one of drinking—no liquor on an empty stomach. I started thinking about teaching a class on drinking and giggled. People would pay big bucks for that.
Asher was laughing too. Not with me, at me. “Come on,” he said and slid an arm under my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“I can walk.”
“Of course you can. I’m just…insurance.”
The run across the airport was like a three-legged race. By some miracle, I didn’t trip Asher and send us both sprawling. It was obvious that my drunk state was immensely amusing to him, and I could see why after all the crap I’d given him about his liquor consumption. By the time we reached our gate, panting, I was sober enough to stand on my own and not sway.
We were the last two people on the plane, and I was shocked when Asher guided me to the first row in first class. As I buckled in, I wondered if his experience in the center seat had prompted him to spring for the upgrade.
