Apples decorated orange-clothed tables along with pomegranates and their seeds. Everyone in the room was clothed in plums, black, shades of oranges, green, brown, or gold. Fashion and function were the order of the evening along with plenty of champagne.
They passed the dance floor, and Camille had a sudden attack of nerves, wondering if tonight was a good idea for a coming out party.
“Are you okay?” Tylor asked.
“Fine.” Camille gave her a nervous smile and put her hand on her stomach for a moment.
“Hello, Tylor.”
“Aria,” Tylor greeted the other woman with a slight nod. “This is—”
“You’ve found your soul-consort.”
“Her what? I’m who?” Camille demanded, confusion washing over her as she looked from one to the other.
“Thank you for pointing that out, Aria,” Tylor replied tartly.
“I guess you haven’t had time to discuss it with her yet.” Aria gave her a saccharine smile.
“No.”
“Discuss it with me now,” Camille insisted.
“You know the word ‘mate’?” Aria said and gave Tylor a cool look before meeting Camille’s stare again.
“I know what—oh.” She looked up at Tylor, stomach tightening.
She’d never considered that, even when Tylor told her she was meant for an aurai. She’d just assumed that meant she’d find love only with someone like herself.
“I was trying to—”
“I’m going to get a drink,” Camille cut in quickly. “We can talk about this later.”
****
“What the hell was that about?” Tylor demanded. “I know you hate the idea of being second, but you are, Aria, and don’t make me end you over bullshit.”
Aria tilted her chin up, giving her a defiant stare. “Not that you haven’t, Tylor,” she retorted. “But you need me for this fight or you’re going to have to throw your consort out into the fray. Is she ready for this? I don’t think assassinations are part of the normal education curriculum.”
“Don’t push me, Aria,” she said. “I killed you before—I won’t hesitate to do it again.”
Aria sneered at her. “Why did you even want to meet?”
“You know why.”
“I don’t have any new intel,” she said coldly.
“Do you really think this is the time to play dominance games? We both know who’d win.”
“Because you’d kill me,” Aria said in a low frosty tone.
“Do you like this area?” Tylor asked silkily. “I’m sure your consort and mine would get to be great friends after Juliet got over missing you so much.”
“You wouldn’t,” Aria said anger flashing in her eyes. A soft heated thread of air washed over her and Tylor’s brows rose in a challenge though she remained relaxed.
“You want to test that theory?” She didn’t want to separate Aria from her mate, but she would and there wouldn’t be a damn thing Aria could do about it without challenging her.
Tylor would kill her for the hell of it despite the in balance of power it would create.
“However, I’d rather have you here. You know the city weather patterns and supernatural as well as I do.”
Aria gave her a grudging slow nod as she relaxed slightly. “Jasmine and Simone have been staking out Whiteall and Dark Hollow members and a new player has entered the game.”
“Voltam?”
“No. A human but Juliet heard some whispers on the wind of a new demon player entering the game to take out a coven.”
“Which one?”
“They’re all dead now,” Aria told her quietly. “We arrived too late, but they were friendly with the Vesta Coven.”
“Dark Hollow’s executing witches that might back up the powerful families.”
“The high priest was part of the Local Witch Congress.”
“They’re putting witch traitors in place,” Tylor murmured.
“We have to assume,” Aria agreed. “Voltaire is a dark one along with Patrick. But the story is their mother was a good witch. Jasmine’s found a record for their mothers, but both women are dead.”
“Convenient.”
“Damn convenient,” Aria agreed. “Simone’s staying on the trail. There is so much there that doesn’t set good with me.”
“Maybe because we’ve seen the betrayal, the lies, and the deaths of good witches led astray by demons.”
“That’s what Juliet keeps telling me,” Aria murmured.
“Who took her mother’s place on the local Congress?”
“Trish Greenaway.”
“We need more witches we can trust,” Tylor said with a sigh. “Jasmine and her crew are going to be worked into the ground.”
“I know a few, but surely you know people with contacts you can work.”
“Some,” Tylor admitted. “One of them wants me in her coven, but I don’t trust her.”
Aria nodded and she saw understanding in her eyes. Neither of them trusted witches easily.
“Work her the best way you can,” Aria said. “Even if you get more warriors down here, they don’t know these people and can’t really fit in.”
“But they can fight,” Tylor said. “I’ll get us a few more fighters to back us. I need a coven I can trust at my back.”
“One you lead,” Aria said coolly.
“Are you asking me to join yours?”
Aria shrugged. “We know I can follow, but can you?”
Tylor shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know, but you’re one of the few people I’d like at my back in this.”
Aria gave her a faint smile. “Do I detect a thaw in our rift?”
She snorted. “Send me the names with photos of the new players. I’d like to take them both out Sunday evening when I return. Then, we can discuss this coven situation.” Her lips twitched in humor.
“Are you going somewhere?”
“Spring Skye high priestess invited me to her celebration,” Tyler replied. “She’s been attempting to draw me into her coven. I think she suspects I’m either aurai or a powerful witch who has aurai associations.”
“She’s part of the local Congress, and she’s friends with the most powerful covens in the tri-city area.”
“I know.” Tylor scanned the crowd for Camille and spied her talking to Amollia.
“She could be some help,” Aria murmured and then followed her gaze. “You should probably talk to her, or the evening is going to get a little tense.” With that, Aria was gone.
Tylor didn’t doubt it. Camille had a bit of a temper, but it wasn’t uncommon for aurai to have a quick temper, especially those connected to the water in air—the moisture of the west wind.
Tylor joined Camille and Amollia, whose date was smiling amusedly at something the fourth member of their group was saying. She decided it best not to make any open moves of possession until Camille gave her a sign that she wanted people to know about them.
“Good evening Amollia,” Tylor said congenially.
“I was wondering when you’d come over,” Amollia said. “Camille was just about to fill me in on today’s events at the school.”
“That was weird to hear about,” Amollia’s date said with a frown. “It sounded like someone had put a spell on him or something, but when I arrived on the scene there didn’t seem to be any signs of bewitchment.”
“I thought you were a doctor,” Camille said with a frown.
“I am, and I’m the medical examiner, so I got the call to have a look at the body,” he explained. “It wasn’t too hard to beat the police there. There is a growing concern that dark forces might be attempting to use humans against us. He could have resisted and been attacked.”
“Then, all the humans have to go on to solve his death is eye witness account,” the other man in the group said.
“Were you alone with him Camille?” Amollia asked curiously. “I heard he was interested in you.”
“He’d asked me out,” she said sof
tly and tears filled her eyes. With a shaking hand, she took a sip of her drink.
At the same time, seeing the pain in her face, Tylor put an arm around her waist. She felt bad that Camille had witnessed his break down, but she wasn’t sorry she’d driven him to it. That had been the most expedient and neatest way to dispose of him.
She hadn’t been worried about what he’d reveal. No, she’d been more concerned about what he’d do to Camille.
“It’s okay, Cam,” she murmured.
“Did he say anything?” Amollia asked quietly, interest in her eyes.
“He was acting like he was being attacked,” she whispered and leaned into Tylor accepting her support. “He said he was in a cage and he was fighting off men.”
“Did he name names?” the second man asked.
She shook her head. “No. Then he threw himself out the window, laughing.”
“One of the blind kids said he was laughing like a madman,” the doctor murmured. “She said it sent chills down her spine.”
“Mine, too,” Camille murmured and wiped at a tear. “He’d been fine moments before that. He’d stopped by my classroom.”
“To talk about a student?” Amollia asked.
“No. He asked me out, but I said no,” she said. “I’m seeing someone.”
“Really? Amollia asked. “You didn’t tell the board.”
“My personal life isn’t their business,” Camille muttered and looked up at Tylor.
Tylor gave her a smile. “That’s what I keep telling them.”
“I guess they don’t listen,” Camille said breathlessly and Tylor wanted to kiss her. She was so beautiful with her fine-boned face and the black waves falling down around her small shoulders nearly to her waist.
Tylor broke the stare first to turn back to Amollia. “Almost never,” Tylor agreed ruefully.
“I see you brought Miss Bay as your guest,” Amara said as she joined them with a man on her arm. “Good.”
Tylor let her hand slide away even as Camille brushed against her side.
“This is my grandmother, Amara Holt.” Amollia made the introductions.
“Hello, Ms. Holt,” Camille said quietly.
“Miss Bay.” The other woman looked her over with calculation in her depths, and Tylor wanted to hit her with a cold wind.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Camille said. “I need some air.”
Tylor started to follow, but Amara put a hand on her arm.
“I’d like a moment,” she said.
Tylor frowned and glanced after Camille, finding her talking to Grace Miller. “Make it quick.”
****
“There’s a great view from down here,” Grace said as they stood on the porch. “Come on.” Grace took her arm and urged down the stairs.
“Grace,” Camille protested but decided not risk a fall down the stone risers.
Once at the bottom, Grace released her, and Camille glanced around.
“The view was better from up there,” Camille commented. Though she had to admit the stone path they stood on with is colorfully blooming bushes on one side wasn’t unpleasant to the eye.
“I’m still a little shaken up about this morning. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Neither could I,” Camille murmured as Grace’s discordant energy raked at her. “He didn’t seem like the type to just—”
“No.” Grace led her away from the stairs and Camille followed hesitantly.
“Where are we going?” She knew Tylor would find them in a few minutes, but she didn’t want to be too far from her after this afternoon.
“Ouch.” Grace bent and Camille went immediately to her aid, despite that putting her on a dimly lit porch directly beneath the one they’d been standing on. Some greenery provided shade and color, but was nicely pruned back.
She sensed the dark energy faster than she saw it and stopped in her tracks before backing up. “Are—” The energy ball that came at her silenced Camille as she leaned out of its way. “Grace,” she called.
“She’s gone.” A taller woman appeared, golden skin lightly made up and hair neatly knotted at the back of her head. “If it’s any consolation, she didn’t want to help, but it was your life or hers.”
The woman came towards her and Camille backed up, her air rising rapidly through her. She felt it rush as if in pitiless anger.
“I had no intentions myself of coming near you, but as I said choice was taken out of our hands.” The woman threw something at her and Camille gasped as black smokiness filled the air, blinding her.
A second later the woman was in front of her and her energy was pulling away from her.
“Mmm, you taste delicious,” the woman murmured. “I’m going to enjoy feasting off you.” She pulled more energy, and Camille flailed in her mind, her body paralyzed, unable to move.
Camille coughed and fear snaked through her as the smoke filled her lungs.
Her air wouldn’t move, couldn’t seem to flow. She tried to scream, but even her vocal cords were disabled by the smoke. It didn’t stop the pain now wracking her body as her energy completely locked up leaving her in terror.
Tylor.
Now, as she went cold it wasn’t out of fear that Tylor would end up being a danger to her someday, it was with the fear that she wouldn’t get here in time to use those deadly air powers to save her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Tylor tracked Camille easily. The fear in her mind, the pain eating at her body, and the fact that she was quickly being murdered was information and map at the same time.
She found them on the porch partially shielded by a bushy shrub. The woman had her back to the entrance which was being guarded by Grace. Tylor didn’t speak. She merely threw a blue and gray energy ball at Grace. It bounced and vanished beneath the ground and came up right between Grace’s legs.
Grace was cut in half by the fast-moving wind and fell soundlessly to the ground, the air quickly eroding parts of her body.
Tylor stepped over her vanishing corpse. Two steps behind the woman assaulting Camille, Tylor drove her fist out, her arm becoming air and slammed it into the woman.
The shadow let out a soundless cry, and Camille crumpled to the ground. The woman slowly turned and as she did Tylor shot out an arc of air. It skated past the shadow to skid to a halt beneath Camille’s falling body.
She threw out a punch as the other woman came around. Her adversary blocked it and thrust out her other hand. The energy escaping threw Tylor’s back. She recovered quickly, becoming translucent to avoid a dark shadow of energy.
“Show yourself, coward,” Selene growled.
And she did, but just a step from the other woman. The woman was startled but not caught off guard for long.
The two did battle, punching and beating each other with a fighter’s efficiency, but Tylor was a warrior, so as her opponent began to tire, Tylor ducked a punch and jumped to avoid a kick.
When she landed, she drove her fist forward with no intention of getting in a punch, and she didn’t. However, her opponent caught it taking the bait.
With her other hand, Tylor punched the other woman in her stomach with an airy fist. The air eroded skin and bone quickly with a lick of heat, crushing bone and causing blood to spurt forth.
The woman opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her sound—her very breath—was being sucked away.
“You won’t be able to scream or make a sound unless I want you to,” Tylor told her softly. Lightning coursed down her arm and escaped into her fingers before shooting into her opponent. “I can feel your terror, hear it just as I heard hers.”
The shadow attempted to override her by sending out an arc of power, but the psychic wind and the lightning created an electromagnetic shield around Tylor so strong, she wasn’t affected.
The other woman’s eyes filled with panic.
“I’m pure aurai. I don’t have sympathy for your pain or your terror. You were about to take what was mine and create an imbalance at
the same time that I couldn’t allow.”
The dark breed swept out her leg and all that did was topple them to the ground and send Tylor’s hand a little deeper inside her.
“It’s the magnetism,” Tylor told her in a hard tone as she straddled the other woman. “It creates a lock that the enemy can’t break. It’s one of the things that make us so effective in a fight. In a way, your people were right to teach those good witches to fear us because we aren’t pets. We are dangerous.”
The woman made a sound as she put her hand on Tylor’s arm.
“You thought you could have her power for your own? No one takes what’s mine. Never.”
Draw back of the lesbians of the race. They were possessive and territorial when it came to their consorts.
Attempt to kill them or harm them in any way and you died.
The other woman’s eyes lit with lightning, glowing from within.
“It’s too bad whoever sent you won’t have the displeasure of knowing who to kill for your death,” Tylor said coldly. “Who did send you?”
“N-Necron,” she said weakly and then jerked violently before turning into dust.
“Thank you.” She caught the image in the other woman’s mind as she died so Tylor knew the face of the enemy. It was too bad it was a blue demon’s whose human form she hadn’t seen in the woman’s mind.
Tylor walked over the dust to check on Camille who was coming awake.
“Come on, Cam.” She pulled her into her arms and turned translucent as footsteps hurried in their direction.
“Tylor?” Camille asked groggily.
Shh. Your voice will carry. We have to be silent for now.
Camille rested her head against Tylor’s shoulder as she clutched her back.
“Oh shit! Grace? Get the sentries!”
****
Necron studied the pile of dust and by the smell this was a fresh kill. There was nothing to identify her, but he was willing to bet this was Selene since remains of what had been Grace weren’t far away.
He ran a hand through his hair. A storm nymph was afoot.
He wasn’t particularly fond of the breed because they tended to be as nasty and hard in a fight as a demon. Their only code of ethics was stop the enemy at all costs.
Heat in the Air Page 12
