Arcane Heart (Talents Book 2)

by Angela Knight

  “Yeah.” Erica stared at him, helplessly remembering the tall, rangy blond man who’d been her friend. He’d lost his human life, at least in part, because she hadn’t been there to detect the spell that drove Bobby insane. She opened her mouth…

  His ears flattened and his tail lashed. “If you say it, I swear to God, I’ll bite you.”

  “Say what?”

  “I’m sorry. I can almost see the words floating over your head in a giant tear-shaped thought balloon. And it pisses me off.” Dave spun with a furious flick of his tail and stalked down the walkway. “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  She followed him, aware of Jake watching them go, his expression concerned as he scratched one of the lionesses behind the ears. “That’s not what you said the last time I saw you.”

  Dave tilted his big striped head to look up at her. “I was in a really bad mood.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Thought you were going to eat me.”

  “I always wanted to eat you, baby. Rrrowl.” That last bit was delivered in mock sexy growl. “Which goes without saying, since the whole damn team wanted you as our own private dessert tray.”

  “All four of you?” She wrinkled her nose and managed a joke. “I don’t think there’d have been enough to go around. Like Mickey Mouse at a cat convention.”

  “I don’t know about that. Have you seen the size of that rat? No wonder the kiddies run in terror.” Dave slid into a flawless falsetto impersonation. “Hi, boys and girls!” He promptly answered that with a chorus of shrill, realistic screams. “Ahhhhh!”

  “Damn it, Dave!” a volunteer yelled from the empty section of a nearby enclosure. “Don’t do that! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  “Sorry, Karla,” the tiger called back.

  “Not good enough. You’d better grovel if you ever want to see another pork butt again.”

  “Don’t be that way! You know how I love your butt.”

  “Ewwww! Too. Many. Legs.”

  “Oh, come on, baby! Once you’ve had stripes, pink and hairless doesn’t get it done anymore. Just ask Angelina Jolie.”

  “Dave, you did not break up her and Brad Pitt, I don’t care how many times you say it.” Snorting, the woman went back to scooping cat poop.

  Suddenly Erica felt a little better. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

  “Nope. Just a new fur coat on the exact same asshole.”

  “There’s a mental image I could have done without.”

  He grinned toothily. “Psychic scarring is just one of the many services I provide.”

  “Nope, no change whatsoever.”

  “What, you expected me to mope around like a six hundred-pound Eeyore?” His voice deepened and slowed until he sounded just like the donkey from Winnie the Pooh. “I’ve turned into a tiger and now my life suuuucks.” He returned to Dave’s usual Texas drawl. “Yeah, fuck that. I don’t have time for that shit.”

  He really didn’t. Tigers only live twenty years at most, and Smilodon had been ten when Dave’s human body was killed. He was twelve now. The math made her wince.

  “Cut it out.” The words were accompanied by a rumbling tiger growl that was no imitation. “I’m so sick of smelling everybody’s fucking guilt. Damn it, it wasn’t your fault! It wasn’t Kurt’s fault, it wasn’t Jake’s fault, it wasn’t Bobby’s fault. Hell, it wasn’t even my fault, though I could’ve been a little damn quicker to get the hell out of the way when Bobby lost his shit. You know whose fault it was? That Caliphucker sorcerer who set the booby trap spell. And since you helped Kurt and Jake kill his ass, that bastard paid for what he did.”

  Erica eyed his aura. Though anger flowed through it in blood-red swirls, there was no sign of deception. Dave meant what he said. He really doesn’t blame me. The sweet relief the thought brought was a surprise.

  But the cat wasn’t done. “In the meantime, I’m going to wring all the joy I possibly can out of every minute I’ve got left.”

  She blinked. Though the bad jokes and humor had sounded just like the old Dave, this vehemence was new. “You mean that.”

  “You bet your ass. I made television appearances with Kurt after that shit with the terrorists last year. I even did Saturday Night Live. I’ve built more than a million followers on YouTube and Twitter, and I’m using that platform to raise money for BFS.” His tail lashed. “I’m making my life count for something, Erica. I don’t care if those damn HHers do think I’m demon possessed, or if other idiots think I’m a hoax or a curiosity. When I head for the big litter box in the sky, I’m damn well going to leave the world a little bit better than it was when I put on this fur coat.”

  She studied him thoughtfully. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like this.”

  “That’s because when you knew me, all I cared about was hunting terrorists, getting drunk, and getting laid -- not necessarily in that order.” He paused, tail flicking, eyes narrowed as he glared up at her. “And speaking of wasting time… You need to stop.”

  She stiffened. “Stop what?”

  “How somebody with as much physical courage as you’ve got can be such a pussy when it comes to her own emotions…” He shook his head. “What are you, male? That’s our shtick.”

  Erica sighed. “Yeah, I should’ve sucked it up and come to see you months ago and cleared the air, but…”

  He produced a loud game show buzz. “Not what I’m talking about. Not even close.”

  “Then I’d like to buy a vowel.”

  “Are you certain you’re not a guy?”

  “Dave, I’m not dropping my pants.”

  “Damn. I was sure that would work.”

  She was starting to feel a little irritated. “If you’re going to call me an emotional chicken, I’d like to know what you think I’m clucking about.”

  “Jake.”

  “What about Jake?”

  “You want him, but you don’t have the guts to do anything about it.”

  “And this is your business why?”

  “It’s not. I just don’t care that it isn’t. I’ve been watching you want him without doing anything about it for years. It’s getting old.”

  She stiffened. “I cared about Bobby.”

  “Cared about him, yes. But you wanted Jake. You only picked Bobby because you figured he’d be safer. He was perfect for having a good time with, but you weren’t going to fall for him. Jake’s a lot of things, including a pain in the ass, but you never saw him as safe. We all knew it, even Bobby. He wouldn’t have been such a shit to you otherwise.”

  It felt as if her face was on fire. She must be beet red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know better than you do. If you keep wasting time protecting yourself and making excuses, one day you’ll discover there’s no time left. It’ll be too late, and there won’t be a fucking thing you can do about it anymore. So I’m telling you as a friend. Grow a pair while you can. Reach out for what’s there before you end up having to make do with what’s left.”

  Dave turned and walked off, the tip of his tail flicking back and forth. She stared after him, feeling like he’d slapped her in the mouth.

  Chapter Six

  Dave glanced back over his shoulder at Erica. “Kurt and Gen are expecting us. You coming, or are you pouting?”

  “Where?” She sounded sullen to her own ears.

  “Kurt’s house. Gen’s doing a healing, and Kurt figured you’d want to watch. Do you?” His narrow gaze challenged her.

  “Yes.” It came out grudging.

  “Okay then, come on.”

  Off-balance, caught somewhere between anger and bewilderment, Erica followed him. Her immediate impulse was to chew him out, but her eyes fell on the metronome flick of his tail and she swallowed the hot words. “Do you really think I’m that big a user?” The question came out less challenging than she’d intended.

  “A user? Of who, Bobby?” He looked up at her, considering. “No. Or if you were us
ing him, he was using you right back. But everything went to shit when Selena died, and it wasn’t a game anymore.”

  Erica grimaced. “Has anybody ever told you that you have a real gift for understatement?”

  “Nope. They usually just say I’m an asshole.”

  “Well, that too.” They walked on in silence for a moment as she remembered the aching sense something was missing. Not just Bobby or Dave, though God knows she’d missed them too.

  Over the past two years, Erica had slowly grown aware of just how empty her life had become. Hell, every time she patrolled her slice of Laurel County, she’d secretly hoped to run into Jake. “Maybe you’re right.”

  “I usually am. Mind telling me what I’m right about this time?”

  “Maybe it is time I grow a pair.”

  “Only if you enjoy bathing in the tears of the entire heterosexual male population.”

  “Smartass.”

  “That is pretty much my job description.”

  They headed deeper into the park. Enclosures loomed on either side. A black leopard paced them from the other side of the galvanized fencing of one of them, a blue sheen rolling over his coat with every fluid step. He watched Dave as if enthralled. Which wasn’t surprising; even non-magical cats were attracted to Ferals.

  As Erica watched the leopard, she found herself blurting the truth. “There’s another reason why I was reluctant to get involved with Jake.”

  “He’s a smartass?”

  “Yeah, but I like smartasses. You know how a strong Talent gives an aura density?”

  “Sure. That’s how you can tell a Talent from a Norm at a glance.”

  “Right. Yours is much more intense than it used to be, since a melded Feral has a greater magical density than any other kind of Talent.”

  “Makes sense, given that it’s me and Smilodon in my head now.”

  “Exactly. Pain gives a density, too.” A lot of Dave’s probably came from pain, though she had no intention of saying so. “So do responsibility and determination. Bobby was all bright colors and laughter. Jake is more like a storm front. When I first met them, that was one of the reasons I chose Bobby. Assholes have dense auras too -- and I knew a lot of those back home.”

  “Jake isn’t an asshole. Most of the time.”

  “No, but it took me time to realize that. You’re right about me thinking Bobby was safer. And since he was Jake’s brother…”

  “… If you got involved with Bobby, Jake would keep his distance.”

  “Which was kind of a prick thing to do.”

  “Not given that you really didn’t know us. But you’re not that scared kid anymore. You know who you are and who Jake is. Now you’ve got to decide what you’re going to do about it.”

  “Trouble is, I have no idea.”

  He gave her a dismissive tail flick. “Yeah. You do.”

  She tried to think of a counterargument, but nothing whatsoever came to mind.

  * * *

  Dave led her to a sprawling Victorian farmhouse presiding over a generous lawn at the back of the park. Its wide wraparound porch and wooden siding was a soft dove gray with a hint of green, set off by shutters and gingerbread trim in slate gray. Erica recognized it from pictures she’d seen over the years. This was the house where Kurt had been raised by his father after his mother abandoned them.

  Fred Briggs had been an Arcane Corps veteran who’d melded with his lion after serving in the first Gulf War. When he’d returned home, he turned the family farm into a sanctuary for Familiars.

  Before Briggs Feral Sanctuary, Ferals had few alternatives when it came to housing their big cats. The federal government maintained a facility for veteran Familiars, but it was chronically underfunded, and Fred felt they deserved better.

  So when Kurt left the Arcane Corps at the end of the Caliphate War, he returned to BFS to help his father run the park. Barely a year later, Fred was murdered as part of a vicious spell cast by magic-using terrorists.

  It had taken Kurt, Jake, Dave, and an Arcanist named Genevieve Reyes to foil the plot. From what Erica had heard from Jake, it had been a very near thing.

  And holy fuck, what the hell are they up to now?

  Erica stopped in her tracks, staring in awe and alarm. The Briggs family home seemed to blaze as magic swirled around it like a windstorm. Someone’s working one hell of a spell. It was Arcanist magic, though Arc magic normally wasn’t that intense. You had to lay it down in layers over a long period to get anything with any real juice to it. “What the hell is that?”

  Dave looked back at her with a chuff of amusement. “Genevieve’s healing a kid.”

  “Here? I thought healers usually do that kind of thing at a hospital.” If one was available. Erica’s mother hadn’t had access to medical facilities in the poor Appalachian community they’d lived in.

  “Gen usually does,” the tiger said, heading around the house to the backyard, where a high wooden privacy fence blocked the view. “Unfortunately, Jaida Garza has a brain tumor that hasn’t responded to treatment, and she’s in really bad shape. As in comatose and dying. Gen had to use the permanent spell circle she’s got here. Which took fast talking on her part. I gather the pediatric oncologist wasn’t crazy about the idea of bringing a child that sick into a wildlife park. But without the permanent spell circle, Gen said there was no way she could save Jaida. And since Gen is pretty much the kid’s last resort…” He tilted his big head in a gesture like a shrug “… Dr. Riley decided they had nothing to lose.” He nosed the gate in the slate gray fence, which swung open at the pressure.

  Erica followed him inside and closed the gate behind them, curious to see what the other witch was doing and how she was doing it.

  The privacy fence encircled the entire backyard, enclosing a thick carpet of verdant grass, towering oaks and azaleas in full bloom. In one corner, rosebushes surrounded a pile of weathered gray stones. Water tumbled down the stones into a pool in which bright orange and red koi lazily swam.

  But Erica barely noticed those details, all her attention locked on the blazing spell circle that lay in the center of the lawn. Its sigils glowed bright blue and gold as they revolved over the grass, circling a stretcher where Jaida Garza huddled under a pile of blankets.

  A woman stood at an easel by the stretcher, one hand moving in fluid gestures as she drew. The details of her face were obscured by the blaze of the surrounding spell, but Erica recognized the tumble of auburn curls gleaming in the afternoon sunlight.

  Kurt’s wife, Genevieve.

  Erica had seen television interviews with her about the terrorist Talents. Given her role in the battle, maybe it wasn’t that surprising Genevieve had been able to create such a powerful circle. Even in the daytime, the sigils glowed like a laser light display. She’d seen bigger circles on Arcane Corps bases, but never one backed by so much juice.

  “Damn,” Erica murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid distracting the healer. “What the hell is she -- Gandalf’s love child?”

  Dave laughed. “Nope. She just reverse-engineered the spell the Fords cast.”

  “The one designed to kill President Roth?” Andrew Roth was the leading light of the Humanist party, who’d pushed the National Talent Registration Act that required Talents to register with the government. The two terrorists had thought killing Roth and the Congress would kill NTRA. Instead, the assassination attempt had assured the act’s passage.

  “No, the one designed to power the one to kill Roth. Indigo Ford figured out how to draw on the earth’s magical field to keep a spell permanently operational. It amplifies whatever magic you work inside it.”

  Erica’s brows flew toward her hairline. The idea of drawing on the magic of the entire planet was fucking terrifying. “Is she nuts?”

  “Don’t worry, Gen only uses her power for good. Come on, I want a better view.”

  As the hair rose on the back of her neck at the intensity of the magical field, Erica wasn’t sure she wanted to get closer. But
since that smacked of cowardice, she followed the tiger past the circle with its blazing magical energies. Crap. Remind me not to piss off Genevieve Briggs…

  They walked around the circle’s edge to a slate gray deck built onto the back of the house. The broad wooden platform appeared to be a recent addition to the thoroughly Victorian structure. Several white Adirondack chairs were clustered at the deck railing, most of them occupied. Erica didn’t recognize all the spectators, but it was obvious who were the kid’s parents.

  A wiry young Latino man with a scruffy beard stood with his arms around a painfully thin woman. Both Garzas wore tight expressions blending hope and terror as they stared at the stretcher.

  A well-dressed black woman stood talking to them in a quiet voice. Probably the pediatric oncologist. Two others wore the uniforms of an ambulance company.

  Kurt Briggs sprawled in one of the chairs, watching his wife with an air of proud confidence. He was a big man, several inches taller than Erica, with a muscled build, curly dark hair, and the striking gold eyes of his heritage. His aura was a deep swirl of blues and greens, dense with the magic of a melded Feral.

  Erica winced, remembering Kurt’s tiger. She’d always liked Stoli. Most tigers were touchy and solitary, but Stoli had been almost as friendly as Clarence.

  Indigo Ford had shot the big cat the same night her terrorist partner, Virgil, had murdered Kurt’s father. The cat’s death had forced Kurt to fuse with Stoli while coping with Fred’s murder. The stress must have been horrific.

  Fortunately, if anybody could come through a mess like that with his sanity intact, it was Kurt Briggs. He was one of the strongest men Erica had ever known.

  Kurt looked around as Erica and Dave climbed the deck steps. Handsome face lighting in a grin, Kurt rose to meet them, one hand extended. “Erica! Damn, it’s good to see you.” His handshake was firm and warm. To her relief, there wasn’t even the faintest hint of resentment in his eyes over the months she’d ducked him.

  “It’s good to see you, Kurt. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”