by Sierra Cross
As soon as we were settled, he rang the call button. The leggy flight attendant smiled coyly at him.
“Love,” he purred to her, “we’d take food as soon as it’s convenient for you.”
She came back with two Mediterranean snack boxes. “Here you go, hun,” she said, giving both boxes to Asher. “Just wait to open your table until after we take off.”
It was the best food I’d ever had in my entire life. Actually, I knew the hummus tasted a bit like paste but my stomach was so happy my taste buds were fooled. A wave of fatigue slammed me hard. My eyelids weighed as much as elephants, but my limbs wouldn’t find comfort even in these cushy seats. They needed to stretch out.
“Here,” Asher said, lifting the armrest between us. “Lean on me.” He stopped my protest. “Just do it, you know you’ll be more comfortable. And don’t worry, I…” He paused.
I was doing an awful lot of touching Asher today. What was up with that? Maybe it was the liquor talking. A pang of guilt hit me when I thought of Liv. Of course it didn’t mean anything, but it would still have irked my coven sister. I wonder if she was still mad at us? But my head was already on his shoulder when that thought came to me. And then I passed right out.
Changing planes at JFK was a blur. I vaguely remembered Asher making me chug water, bless him. And then I was out again, leaning against him, chasing monsters through my dreams in a fitful sleep.
Slowly I came back to consciousness. With my eyes closed, I tried to remember where I was. A stubbled chin was pressed against my forehead. Strong arms were wrapped around me, lean, taut muscles keeping me safe. The scent of his signature was citrusy bergamot, not Matt’s woodsy masculine fragrance. My hand was tucked under Asher’s open shirt, fingers pressed against the warm skin of his tattooed chest. Being this close to Asher didn’t feel bad or wrong—felt pretty nice. But it didn’t make my blood sing in my veins the way being near Matt did. His hand trailed across my shoulder, and I eased to a sitting position, of course waking him in the process. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“You didn’t. I’ve been awake for a little while. At least we’ll be well-rested for this witch hunt,” Asher said chuckling at his own joke. The casualness of how he handled physical closeness made me think he excelled at the etiquette of the one-night stand. “We could call Liv and get her to scry for us,” he added. “With the city pinpointed, it’s shouldn’t be hard for her.”
The prospect of waking up Liv right now to demand magical favors did not seem wise, given the tense way we’d parted. I wasn’t afraid of Liv’s wrath…exactly. “Are you saying my scrying sucks?” I asked, dodging the question.
“Hey, if the pendulum fits…”
Which it did. “I don’t think we need to bother her. At least not yet. Matt mentioned his favorite place in Barcelona. What was that place called?” I tried to recall the conversation he and his guardian friend had about it weeks ago. Instead, I remembered being at Sanctum, the brush of Matt’s thigh against mine as I served the drinks. The flutter I’d felt when his fingertips found mine as I handed him his beer.
“Mm, that’s some memory,” Asher murmured.
I blushed, wondering what my face was giving away. I refocused my thoughts. “Palau Dalmases.” Fear kicked my brain into high gear. God, we had to get there in time to stop him. I refused to think of the alternative. “We should try there first.”
We landed and headed straight to the taxi line to catch a cab to Palau Dalmases.
The taxi took us almost to the center of downtown, where the streets were packed with throngs of pedestrians, many waving tiny green flags. Men hefted guitar cases, and there were so many women in long red dresses with frilly trains that I swore I was seeing double. Apparently, we’d hit town the same time as a flamenco festival.
The traffic was so thick we decided walking would be faster, so we paid the cabbie and melded into the crowd. We strode as quickly as we could past café tables with brightly colored umbrellas, packed with lunchtime crowds. Pounding the ancient stone through narrow streets, I felt like I was walking in a different century. We passed beautiful churches and commercial buildings that had to be over five hundred years old. You could just feel they had stories to tell and secrets to keep. But fear beat in my chest like a second heart, and I urged my legs forward. Please god, don’t let us be too late.
At the end of the alley sat an honest-to-goodness fifteenth century palace, the exterior barely altered from the day it was built. Its unassuming wooden wall was inset in a wide swath of stone, a nondescript door with no sign or window, positioned off-center to the right. Thanks to my friend Google, I knew the bar was through here.
Chapter Seven
We stepped through the door into an open-air courtyard shared by several businesses. Palau Dalmases was in the middle of the row. As we got closer, a buzz of recognition filtered into me through my coven tattoo. Matt was in here. The feeling was familiar and warm, and so subtle if I weren’t so eager, I could’ve missed it. As Matt’s energy entered the tattoo’s aura again, I felt the complexity of the coven spell. I ran my hand across the inked art on my bicep like I was welcoming him back in. The sensation Matt’s aura created was so visceral it almost felt like I was touching his skin instead of mine. I picked up my pace, eager to get to the real Matt, and Asher grabbed my arm with a jerk, pulling me to a stop.
“What was that?” he demanded.
“What? Nothing. We’re close.”
“You touched your tattoo.”
“I can feel it. He’s in that bar.”
Asher pulled his gloves off. “If you can feel him, he can feel you.”
It took a minute for me to realize what Asher was implying. “He’s not going to attack us.”
“And I never would’ve believed he’d be stupid enough to turn himself in.” He stuffed his gloves in his back pocket and gave me a rakish grin. “I’ll be cocked and loaded, but I promise not to fire first.”
“Asher, it’s Matt.”
“Matt and maybe a dozen guardians ready to escort him in.”
I stayed silent. I hadn’t thought of that. Hadn’t wanted to think it.
“There’s always a possibility of battle. Never let your emotions prevent you from remembering that.”
I shrugged and didn’t argue, but I wasn’t walking in with my magic blazing either. I threw open the door and entered the dimly-lit bar with Asher at my side. Dust motes, dancing in shafts of sun, striped the sidewall in a warm light that was quickly absorbed by all the dark leather and wood in the room. A dozen people of all ages, mostly guys, with beers in their hand sat glued to a football match being shown on a TV screen behind the bar. We hadn’t taken two steps inside when a roar went up from the crowd. I almost called my magic before I realized they were just reacting to a play on the screen.
Then I saw him. At the corner of the bar with his back facing the door, the curve of his broad shoulders was unmistakable. I didn’t need to see his face to know. It was Matt. Relief overwhelmed me. I took a moment to catch my breath.
Without turning, Matt said, “You came all this way, you might as well have a drink.”
Apparently, drinking away our troubles was our coven’s big strategy this week.
Asher’s eyes darted across the bar, scanning the room for danger. “Back to the door? You’re getting sloppy, guardian.”
“Nah, it just doesn’t matter anymore.” Matt’s voice was even calmer than normal, but there was no peace in it. Only flat resignation. He called out to the bartender, ordering for us in fluent, if slightly slurred, Spanish.
Of course he’d be fluent—the years he’d labored at the academy in Barcelona had left their mark on the man he’d become. So had everything he’d lived through. Boot camp in Tennessee. His lonely childhood on the guardian compound, hiding the secret of what he was. The solstice massacre. His lost decade in the Void.
Damn it, Matt. You’ve been through hell before and come out stronger.
Was he finally too scarre
d to bounce back?
No. Not if I still had a beating heart. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, let him go like this.
My feet propelled me forward, rushing me to Matt. Yanking his shoulder, spinning him into my arms for a crushing hug. For a moment, his arms remained at his sides, then he squeezed me back with an even greater fervor, nuzzling his unshaven cheek against my face. A breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding escaped. He stood, still with his arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground. My body lit up, and I curved into him. My mind had only a moment to think the words: I am home. Then he let me go and extended a hand to Asher. As they clasped hands, Matt pulled him into a shoulder-bump bro hug.
Asher and I took seats on either side of Matt, at the corner of the bar. Asher’s butt had barely hit the chair when he flicked Matt in the forehead. Matt didn’t even try to deflect. “What the hell were you thinking?” Asher hissed and threw a circle of silence around us.
“I’m just trying to make things right,” Matt said, not meeting Asher’s gaze. “We all know if I’d any guts, I would’ve done this years ago.”
“You bloody tosser, this is the last thing you need to do.”
I let Asher do the talking because I didn’t think I could be at all measured in my response. I wanted to slap Matt. Shake him. Scream at him. He left without even a goodbye.
“Like it or not you’re a part of this coven,” Asher lectured. “What you do affects us all...and the future of the Demongate. Or did you forget taking on those responsibilities? We can’t do this without you.”
Matt looked up and cracked a half-smile. I could swear, that big lug of a guardian was on the verge of tears. “You guys. I’ll never forget that you came all this way. It’ll get me through what’s to come.”
“As fetching as I do find you,” Asher quipped, “I didn’t come all this way to stroke your…ego.” I rolled my eyes. That man would flirt with a lamppost. “Fact is, we have proof that your self-loathing is based on a lie,” Asher said. “Proof that Mals aren’t born evil and don’t suddenly become evil either.”
The look of hopelessness mixed with gratitude that Matt gave Asher ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped it. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a Pollyanna,” he said. “Look, some things you can’t gloss over with positive thinking.”
“Augh, Asher’s not thinking positive,” I burst out. “I don’t think he even knows how to. We have real, actual proof on us, okay? As in a video showing that everything you think you know about Mals is a lie.”
Matt furrowed his brow. “Don’t tell me what I know.”
“We’re telling you what you don’t know.” I said.
“The ruling body is afraid of your kind.” Asher clapped his hand on Matt’s massive shoulder. “But not because you’re evil. Because you’re powerful.”
“You’re trying to tell me it’s all a big conspiracy?” Matt laughed bitterly. “Whatever. Anyway…it’s too late. I called Chris tonight, told him what I am.” The muscles of his face sagged with pain, and I tried to imagine what a difficult phone call that must have been. “Out of respect for our friendship and my past service, he’s given me until the morning to turn myself in.”
“Fuck.” Asher pinched the bridge of his nose with his strong fingers. I knocked back the smoky, brown liquor, feeling it burn all the way to my stomach. “Now what? Have any more bright ideas, coven leader?”
“Coven leader? Is it official?” Matt asked. I nodded, and he beamed with pride. “I always knew it would be you.”
“Don’t change the subject,” I chided. “How’re we going to get you out of this?”
“Get me out of this?” Matt was incredulous. “Don’t you see? I’m doing this for you. I put you all in jeopardy just by being around you.”
“If you hadn’t gone and confessed we’d have all been fine,” Asher said. “Our don’t ask, don’t tell policy was working just fine.”
“I’m not talking about legal ramifications,” Matt said. “I’m talking about keep you safe, from what’s inside me.”
What was inside him? He was pure and gentle to the core. Emotions made my legs twitch. I stood and paced behind my chair to keep from throttling him. Asher looked like his head was about to explode.
Light swept across the bar, creating a momentary distraction as the front door opened and a tall woman stepped in. All we could see was her silhouette. She glanced in our direction and did a double take, as if she’d seen something she hadn’t been expecting. I felt the trace of an energy signature as she approached the bar. Was she magicborn? If so, her signature was faint and nondescript, I couldn’t get a read on it. Asher and Matt looked up, probably having gotten the same ping in their energy fields. I stared at her stylishly dressed figure, a long skirt and flowing tunic, in natural fibers that looked expensive. A glimmer of recognition nagged me, and I searched my memory banks for her image, but only came up with shadows. Her long straight brown hair, barely touched by grey, swayed and she leaned on the bar. Her body was strong with broad shoulders, long limbs…oh my god.
I did know this woman. In another lifetime, she was my mother’s coven sister. Alana. Matt’s face had gone chalk white. This woman had been his mentor witch.
My brain churned with the impossibility of it. A member of the original coven had survived the Solstice battle? How? Where had she been hiding for the last ten years?
Matt jumped to his feet. At his sudden movement Alana turned with a jerk, like she was ready to rabbit.
“Alana?” Matt called to her, arms out like he was trying to coax a wild animal. His brow twisting. No doubt he was struggling to absorb this altered reality.
“What are you doing here?” she said, keeping her voice low.
“Me?” He was still staring at her, looking lost. “You…how is this possible? You survived?”
“So they finally figured out it was you,” she said, but not to Matt or us. She was talking to herself, railing against her unseen foes. She was barely making sense. “And the monsters sent you after me.”
“What? No one sent me.”
“I won’t let even you take me down, guardian.” Her voice was strong, but tinged with regret.
Matt’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What’s going on? You’ve been alive all this time and you left me in the Void?”
“They knew what I’d done.” Her lip quivered…with fear…sadness? Then her face shifted to resignation. “They’ve been tailing my every move for ten years. I must’ve been betrayed by one of my coven sisters. Staying away was the only way to keep you safe. If I’d pulled you out, they’d have killed you for sure. They would’ve known...you were my son.”
Holy shit. Her son?
“They’re right, I won’t defend myself against you.” Alana cursed, raising shaking hands as if to call her magic, but didn’t. “But I’ll be damned if I let you take me in.” In a swift motion, she pulled a small disc from her purse. It was purple with an unfamiliar stamp. The spellbead hit the floor, and in a flash of white smoke, she was gone. Ballsy move in a public space, I thought. But the semi-drunk Wonts swaying to their football songs didn’t even look up from their match.
The three of us stood staring at the patch of dirty wooden floor where Alana had just been standing. From the dazed look on Matt’s face, I was guessing he’d had no idea Alana was his mother, the genesis of his Amalgam nature. It sickened me that the society we lived in had deemed their relationship so unclean, she was forced to take the role of family friend. He’d been without a mother his whole life but she’d practically raised him. The revelation filled me with anger as well as sadness, and it made the thirteen years I’d shared with my mother even more cherished.
“One hell of a family reunion.” Asher sat back down, eyes still on the empty spot. “I gather she was one of the casualties in the Coven of Fire’s ‘bus accident,’” he said, using air quotes.
I sat and motioned to the bartender for another round. A grim thought occurred to me. I remembered Matt’s warning
from months ago, when we were looking for Liv so we could restart the coven. “Is there any chance her body was taken over by a Caedis?”
“Nah, we’d have felt that lovely razor aura,” Asher said. “They can’t hide it.”
“But couldn’t she tamp down her signature using Alana’s witch body?” I asked.
Asher curled his lip. “In theory, I suppose, but the body of a mature witch is the last place any Caedis wants to take up residence,” he said. “A bit like mutton, tough and unappealing. Too hard to overcome the muscle memory to gain full control.” Asher downed the last of his drink. “But, you’re right to question her allegiance. She was tamped down. We need to assume she’s a dark witch until we know otherwise.”
“Yeah, I couldn’t get a good read on her,” I said. “Why would she tamp down if she wasn’t dark?”
“Maybe to prevent whoever’s chasing her from being able to scry for her.” Matt stood in front of us, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Didn’t you just see her? She was terrified. She’s been on the run for ten years.”
I hated to ask the obvious question, but, “Who exactly is she running from?”
“It must be the Council Suprema,” Matt said. “She gave birth to a Mal, instant outlaw status.” Matt paced in tight circles. “And if one of her coven sisters betrayed her secret, who knows how far the betrayal went? In retrospect, how did that Solstice breach happen without insider help?”
I stared at him. Was Alana’s paranoia contagious? “You’re not suggesting someone from my mother’s coven purposefully weakened the wards?” Demongates failed. That’s why strong covens were so important. Was he so desperate to have Alana back that he was inventing conspiracy theories?
“I don’t know what I’m suggesting,” Matt said. “All I know is that woman was there for me every time I needed her. Now she needs me. I’ll be damned if I let her twist in the wind.” He sounded so certain. All the normal Matt skepticism had evaporated.
