by Sierra Cross
“Matt…” I tried to put myself in his place. What if that had been my mother that had walked into the bar? Would I be able to be objective? “We need to think about this.”
“What’s there to think about? She’s in trouble. I have to help her.”
“One small problem, my dear Boy Scout,” Asher said. “You’ve already outed yourself. You have that little morning rendezvous with the death squad.”
Chapter Eight
“How do you say flea bag in Spanish?” I asked as I looked around Matt’s cramped and outdated hotel room. Street sounds bubbled up into the room from the raucous crowd outside, barely muffled by the thin glass in the windows. Peeling wallpaper with clunky washes of oranges and reds fighting each other made the room look even smaller. The foam under a tacky blue armchair’s upholstery looked like it was disintegrating.
Then again, the festival crowds had limited our lodging choices to none. We could bunk here with Matt or grab a park bench. I threw my backpack in a corner and plopped onto the worn-out chair, leaving those two to either sit next to each other on the full-size bed or stand. Matt sat, Asher leaned against the wall.
“We need to find Alana,” Matt said.
“Easier said than done,” I pointed out.
Matt shook his head. “It’ll be hard, but so what? I’ll do whatever it takes to find her. I owe Alana my life—twice.” He turned to Asher. “The night of the solstice battle, she performed the spell that threw me into the Void before Tenebris could finish me off.”
I couldn’t help but think that it was also Alana who’d left him there for ten years. Was leaving her son alone in an amorphous hell really the only way to protect him?
“As you pointed out,” Asher said, “she can’t be scried for. We’re not going to find her unless she wants to be found.”
“But we could regroup in Seattle?” Part of me was hopeful that Matt’s desire to help Alana could help me talk him into returning home. “Go to see one of the Spelldrift’s crones…”
“I plan to turn myself in after we help Alana,” Matt said, in true thick-headed fashion. “So, I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay. That does it. You need to watch the video.”
“I’m not going to watch a stupid video.” Matt ran his hands through his hair, impatient.
“It’s not stupid! It’s years of a reputable scientist’s hard work. Dr. Shimizu is an expert—”
“No, I’m an expert,” Matt shot back. “I understand what it is to be a Mal. To fight evil urges every day.”
“Do you think those kids back in Tennessee were evil?” I asked. His face softened, and I knew I had him caught in a contradiction. “You bought them food. You felt as sorry for them as I did. Why’s it all right for them to live, but not you?”
“It’s not the same. I feel—” He grabbed his forehead and squeezed it roughly with his big strong fingers, like he didn’t even want to think the words he was about to say. “Those kids aren’t me. There’s something inside me...that isn’t right.”
“What do you feel inside you?” I asked.
Asher’s face registered the same question, but he looked from me to Matt and wisely held his tongue.
“Ever since this coven formed,” Matt said in a low growl. “Me, using my witch magic.”
“Still not following.”
“You don’t lose control when you heal me,” I said. “If anything it seems to be getting easier for you.”
“Alexandra, don’t you see? My power’s getting stronger every day.”
“That doesn’t make it evil.” I thought back to the video, the blue and golden flash of magic Tyler had released. An awesome amount of power, but the Mal held it in check until tortured. And Tyler had been completely untrained, while Matt was already using his power at low levels. On the other hand, if Matt was developing a magic that strong, it was no wonder he feared it. When I first opened myself up to my magic, I remembered how foreign it had felt, like a strange force moving in my body. And I didn’t have a lifetime of people telling me that I had evil in my soul. “Just watch the videos, for me?”
“You’re the reason I won’t watch them,” he said sadly. “I don’t want to let some whim change my mind, make me ignore facts, and stay with you…until it’s too late. I care for you too much.”
“Matt…”
“Enough about me. My mother’s out there. And I need to find her.” Matt looked at me, then Asher. “Will you help?”
“Yeah, I’m in,” Asher said, surprising me with the speed of his response.
I wished I could get Matt to watch the video, but at least if I was near him I could keep chipping away at his false beliefs. Though they seemed to be set in concrete. “Of course I’ll help you. We’re a coven, aren’t we?” Matt reached over and squeezed my hand. His warm strong fingers sent a shiver through me. But before I could get lost in the feeling, a thought occurred to me. “What about tomorrow?”
“Yes, Matty, your date with destiny?” Asher added. “Aren’t the guardians expecting you?
Matt’s gaze darted to the right, landing on the wallpaper. Then he turned back to us. “I guess I’m going to stand them up.”
“I knew you had a bit of bad boy in you.” Asher smiled. “We should probably tamp you down so you can’t be scried for either.”
Matt gave him a sideways look like Asher was a porcupine that should be kept at a healthy distance, then, seeming to accept his fate, he exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Have at it, warlock.”
Asher stood over him and made a production with arm flourishes and big swaths of magic. While they were working on that I had the urge to get up and brush my teeth, since I hadn’t done so yet on this continent. But the bathroom was out in the hallway. And the hallway seemed like a long, daunting distance, because I was so damn tired. I had no idea what time it was for my body clock, but my eyelids were staging a revolt against the overtime. Screw it. I walked over and stretched out on the other side of the bed.
“I don’t care if you join me,” I said to them both. “But I’m definitely crashing now.”
“No. We should let you have it,” Matt said, standing so fast you’d think he’d touched fire.
“Not so fast,” Asher said, following him with a swipe of magic “I still need to do your right arm. There.”
“Seriously, I don’t mind sharing the bed,” I said, wishing he’d just get in beside me. My body was longing to be next to his, and as weird as that would be with Asher in the room, I didn’t care. I just needed to feel the heat of his body close to mine.
“No, go ahead and crash.” Matt came over and kissed my forehead. “We’ll let you sleep.”
“Well, if you’re not going to get in, I will,” Asher said. “I’m exhausted.” Asher pushed past Matt, lay down, and smiled up at Matt’s horror-struck face. “Thanks, mate.”
Just great. Asher’s cluelessness was thwarting my attempts to get closer to Matt. I was too tired to argue. My eyelids fluttered at half-mast, then drifted closed.
I was aware of the drool crusted on my bottom lip as my body slowly returned to life. My face was pressed against Asher’s black broadcloth shirt, my body hugging his back. I resisted the urge to jerk away so as not to wake him, and instead slowly inched toward my side of the bed. As I eased to a sitting position, I saw Matt in the broken-down chair, just staring at me. I swatted down the guilt that rose in me. I didn’t have anything to feel bad about. He chose to sleep in the chair.
“I see you and Asher have gotten close,” Matt said in a defiant whisper.
Did he seriously think I would ever hook up with Asher? Guilt morphed to rage. WTF? I just flew across an ocean to find Matt. Even though he’d never claimed us, never admitted what we had was real. No, he’d constantly pushed me away. It always came back to the vow. And now he was jealous? Any desire to assuage his fragile feelings evaporated. “Why would you even care? You left me,” I said, walking around the end of the bed to get in his face.
Th
e pain in his eyes echoed as an ache in my chest. “That’s not fair.” His voice a charged whisper.
“Oh, like leaving me not knowing if you were alive or dead was fair?” Clashing feelings swarmed inside me like bees. I wanted to slap him and jump his bones at the same time.
“Could you take your lovers’ quarrel outside?” Asher stretched his leg across the bed and pulled a pillow over his head. “Some of us are trying to sleep. Much obliged.”
I grabbed Matt’s wrist, and tugged him toward the door. Out in the hall, our fury was swirling in a cloud around us. I felt it in our coven connection, in the air between us, in his burning gaze.
“You selfish son-of-a—”
My words got cut off by his lips crashing into mine, the heat between us instantly a raging fire. For the first time, his kiss held nothing back. His embrace slammed me up against the opposite wall. My need was so powerful I didn’t think my legs would hold me—but they didn’t need to. His greedy hands were under my shirt and on my body, holding me up as they staked their claim. I wrapped my hands around his neck, pulling him to me. Our passion had gone too long unacknowledged, nothing about it was measured. Our embrace was raw and powerful and urgent, tenderness burned away by need. No space between us, but still he wasn’t close enough. Lust and love were inseparable. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and spun him around, slamming his back against our door so hard the picture frames rattled on the other side of the wall.
Which also meant Asher was hearing all of this. My eyes dropped to the floor in a moment of embarrassment. Then I realized I didn’t care who heard us.
Poking out from under our door was the corner of a white linen envelope. Not the kind of paper a cheap hotel like this would use.
Matt’s lips pulled away from my neck, and he saw it too. No one knew we were here…right? We both stared down at the envelope as if it were a ticking bomb. Passion ebbed as fear crept in. Had Chris alerted the guardians? Did they know where he was staying? Had they surrounded the building? Tears of anger sprang to my eyes. I just got him back, I’d be damned if I’d let anyone take him from me. I bent down to scoop up the envelope. To see what fate was throwing at us now.
Matt stopped me. “No. You’ll incinerate it.” He pointed to my hands, to the gold magic encircling them up to my elbows. My instinct to protect him was so strong my magic had surged. He picked up the note and opened the door.
“Let me guess, you want me to give you the room,” Asher said, rolling over to face us. “Fine, I’ll go out and grab a tea.” His tone was flip, yet there was a reluctance in his eyes. Was he really that tired or was it something else? Then he saw Matt ripping open the envelope. “What the hell is that?”
Matt stared at the letter. “It’s from Alana.”
“How did she even find us?” I asked.
“She must’ve scried for him before I tamped down his signature,” Asher said. “She must’ve been carrying something that belonged to you. She must always have it on her…” He let that thought trail off as if he was thinking the same thing I was. Had Alana been thinking about her son this whole time?
“What’s it say?” I demanded.
“She says…” Matt faltered, shook his head.
Asher snatched it from him and read aloud. “I tried to leave, I really did. But every cell in my body is revolting at that notion. I couldn’t bear to think that if you really aren’t here to take me down, I would’ve missed the opportunity to see you again. Talk to you, one last time.
“I’ll wait for you at Temple Roma D’August, southeast entrance. If I even smell guardian backup, I will…overcome my reluctance to defend myself.” He looked up. “She has directions to where we’re to meet.”
This woman had been missing for ten years without so much as a hint to him that she was alive. And now she wanted to meet in some clandestine place? A swarm of bees swirled in my stomach at the thought. “This could be a trap,” I said.
“I’m with Alix,” Asher said. “There is an eau d’fish about this.”
“Trap or not, I have to go,” Matt said. “I don’t want either of you to put yourselves in danger—”
“Hello, coven here,” Asher said with a no duh air. “We’re going to do this, but we’re going to be smart about it.” He rolled out of bed, a tuft of his long, dark bangs standing up on his head. His rumpled clothes, rather than making him looked disheveled, made him look more rock ’n’ roll. He dug through his bag and pulled out an iPad. “I have an idea.”
Winning an improbable battle against time, the ancient pillars of a Roman temple to Apollo stood sandwiched between two modern apartment buildings. On the surface, the pitted stone columns didn’t look like much of an attraction. But a large sign with color photos showed the underground temple, images of a time gone by. A long queue had formed at the entrance to the exhibit, but it didn’t matter—we weren’t going in that door.
Thanks to Asher’s Internet search, we found another way in.
We passed the southeast entrance which had a sign reading, “Closed for Renovations” in about ten different languages. Following Asher’s direction, we entered an adjacent building and skulked through the door marked, “Entrada de Empleados.” Employees entrance. Tattoos swirling, he threw a brume spell around us. The mist he’d thrown didn’t make us invisible, just less noticeable. Wouldn’t work when someone was actively hunting you.
The plaster and tile hallway led to a double swinging door. An open cargo lift took us down to the ancient city below the city, lit only by a string of single bulbs with long stretches between them. We were in a section of the exhibit that was currently closed to the public. I walked through the ancient chambers with my magic at the ready. In an unspoken agreement, Asher and I had sandwiched Matt between us, ready to protect him—even from himself.
A dark, cramped hallway led from one crumbling room to the next. This area appeared to be in mid-renovation. Modern scaffolding supported the ancient walls. I hoped it would be enough to keep the decrepit structure from collapsing on us. We turned a corner and crossed into a larger cavernous room. This one looked like the center of it had collapsed centuries ago, turning it into something like a makeshift balcony from which the floor below was visible. All around us faint sounds of distant tours rippled through the musty air, like ghosts of the past.
Asher checked the tablet and pointed to the floor below. “We’re right above the meeting spot.”
We waited in the shadows, blending in with the walls. We waited. And waited. She was five minutes late.
“Maybe she’s waiting for us to show first?” Matt asked.
Another few minutes passed before we saw the top of Alana’s head as she cautiously entered the space. Again, I felt almost no magical signature, but maybe she was just too far away. Matt stepped forward. I pulled him back and gave him the hand signal to wait.
Alana moved with sharp, skittish steps, looking around like she was checking for a tail. Matt’s body leaned toward her. Clearly he was itching to go to her. Asher was impatiently mouthing, “Wait.”
Below us the distant whisper of many feet shuffling across the stone floor echoed through the room, rapidly getting closer. In an instant, the noise was as loud as canons in the still cavern of a space. A dozen booted, uniformed soldiers surrounded a frantic Alana. Half of her assailants wore Fidei black. A few were Council Suprema agents in blue. The rest wore unfamiliar drab grey uniforms. Then I recognized Matt’s friend Chris in grey. They were guardians. If they weren’t looking for Matt yet, they would be soon.
Clearly not thinking of his own safety, Matt drew his daggers. Asher wrapped his arms around our big guardian, fighting to keep him from making our presence known.
Hopelessly outnumbered, Alana reached into her pocket—for a spellbead? But before her trembling hand breached her pocket, a Fidei soldier’s hand wrapped around her wrist.
“You’re not escaping on my watch,” the Fidei said with a thick Spanish accent.
She briefly struggled, then l
ooked up directly at us and gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Like she was telling us to stay where we were.
“Wait, let’s check the area,” Chris spoke up. “Obviously she was meeting someone here. Gonzales, Whitman, take two men, fan out and scan the premises.”
Matt was still fighting to go down to Alana. I was afraid the noise we were making would give us away. Asher was holding his own against Matt, but not by much. I reached my hand up and pinched the flesh under his arm with all my might. Matt grimaced and spun toward me.
“We have to go,” I shout-whispered. “Now! Or we all go down.”
Gonzales and Whitman had already made it up the steps toward the hallway we had come in through. We needed a new exit strategy. Asher pointed to the crisscrossed metal bars that stretched up in front of the walls. Climb, he mouthed. Crap. But as the two agents’ footsteps approached there was no time for debate.
We bounded up the scaffolding, climbing back toward street level. Our muscles churned as we each struggled to keep our movements as silent as possible. Pieces of rock and bits of crumbling mortar cascaded down the wall in tiny avalanches. Would the scaffolding hold? Could the soldiers hear us? A wave of noise from the tourist section entered the empty space—a flurry of laughter in response to an amusing tour guide? I prayed it would mask the ruckus we were making. We ran back through the employees’ entrance, not bothering with a brume. A bewildered shout from a surprised janitor followed us as we careened around corners and rushed back out into the crowds that meandered through the streets. We slowed our pace to blend in and let the human current carry us far away.
Ten minutes away from the ruins with no sign of a tail, I let out a long slow breath. We passed a timeworn church with a clock tower above its intricate arches.
“You shouldn’t have stopped me,” Matt cursed. “We never should have let them take her.”
