by Jane Kindred
All eyes turned to her as she came up the aisle—including a pair that were a glittering tiger’s-eye golden brown.
Ione stopped still, blood rushing to her cheeks as well as to other more inconvenient and intimate places. It was impossible, but there he was, seated among them, just a little apart from the rest: last night’s epic bad judgment. When he rose, the others rose with him.
The golden-brown eyes widened slightly at the sight of her, and she was certain for a mortifying instant that he’d somehow seen through the glamour last night. He knew exactly who she was. But the expression was gone just as quickly with no hint of recognition in his eyes, only grim determination.
“Dione Carlisle?” He’d pronounced her given name as “Dee-ohn”—which was the reason she’d changed it.
She willed herself to behave like someone who hadn’t just run smack into the man she’d sucked off in a parking lot the night before while wearing another woman’s face. “I go by Ione, actually. But I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.” Her cheeks throbbed at the unfortunate word choice, and he studied her with a peculiar expression.
With a slight, formal bow, he held out his hand. “Dharamdev Gideon. The Leadership Council sent me.” Ione’s heart sank. So this was her replacement, after all.
His skin tingled with magical energy as she shook his hand. She should have recognized it last night, the vibrational hum his proximity—and his touch—had set off inside her. It was magic—ordinary magical ability and not the pulsing tremor of some karmic sexual connection. She tried to ignore how the warm vibration of his skin touched off that answering warmth inside her that was decidedly more carnal than spiritual. And to ignore the enticing scent of his skin.
Realizing she’d held his hand a moment longer than necessary, Ione released it.
His expression masked, Dev clasped his hands behind his back, his deep-charcoal suit obviously tailored, as it accommodated his movements with perfect ease. “I’m the Covent assayer. I assume they told you I was coming.”
Ione tried to make sense of the words. She’d thought for sure he was the new interim high priest. But maybe he was just some kind of number-cruncher or efficiency expert. Maybe the world wasn’t ending.
“No, I’m afraid they didn’t, Mr. Gideon. Assayer...what is that, exactly?”
Dev cleared his throat and drew himself up tall as he straightened his raw silk tie in dark teal, his face expressing disapproval—and a touch of what looked suspiciously like disgust. “The Covent seeks to determine what role you may have played in the infiltration of the necromancer Carter Hamilton. I’m here to evaluate your failure of leadership, Miss Carlisle, and to decide on an appropriate punishment.” His cheeks seemed to color, but only for an instant. “Penalty.”
The furious heat in Ione’s cheeks was undoubtedly far more obvious. The Covent leaders apparently intended to treat her like a naughty child. The sense of resignation and grief at what she’d believed she was about to lose was quickly giving way to umbrage.
“I see.” Ione put her hands in the pockets of her coat to keep the angry tremble from showing. “I take it my account of the events is in question. I suppose that’s not entirely a surprise, given that none of the Council members was here to witness what happened. But the police accepted my account, Mr. Gideon. And Mr. Hamilton himself confessed that he alone was responsible for his actions. I’m sure any of the members of my coven can tell you what an act he put on, how he fooled us all.”
She glanced at her fellow coven members to be sure they were still on her side. A few looked embarrassed but no one was avoiding her gaze.
“I’m not proud of being fooled, and I’ll accept whatever censure the Covent deems fit to mete out for that failing, but I can assure you, Mr. Gideon, that I did nothing unethical.”
Dev gave her a condescending smile. “I will, of course, be interviewing every member of the coven at length. But by your own account, your actions were anything but ethical. You used unauthorized magical influence on a Covent member—”
“A Covent member who happened to be a necromancer, Mr. Gideon. Who was in the act of attempting to murder my sister and another member of my coven.”
“Unauthorized influence.” The gemstone eyes seemed to crackle with intensity. “There are no exceptions to this rule. Rafael Diamante subdued him with the very necromancy of which you’ve accused Hamilton, and it appears from your account that you helped Diamante do it.”
Ione’s mouth dropped open and she had to work to get her jaw to function normally. And to respond without screaming. “You’re not actually suggesting Carter Hamilton is innocent?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, Miss Carlisle. I’m merely explaining to you, since you seem to be having difficulty with the concept, that you took actions that are greatly frowned upon by the Covent. And a full investigation is more than warranted to determine exactly what happened here and who is culpable.” Whatever trick of the light had made him seem so damnably attractive a moment before, his smug condescension had managed to shake Ione loose of it. Now he just looked like a pompous jerk.
He glanced around at the others as if just remembering their presence and let out a sigh. “I trust that you’ll all cooperate fully with my investigation. I’d like to begin with brief, preliminary interviews with each of you, no more than ten or fifteen minutes, before Miss Carlisle and I sit down to discuss her account at length.” Dev turned back to Ione. “I hadn’t expected you to attend this preliminary session.” His frown expressed disapproval of whoever had leaked the news. “Since I may be a few hours, it might be best if you leave and return later.” He took out his phone, poised to make an entry. “If you’d give me your mobile number, I’ll call you when the interviews are completed.”
“I don’t have a ‘mobile’ number.” She couldn’t help echoing his British pronunciation. Ione fixed her gaze on him as he looked up, daring him to mock her for being a Luddite. She actually did have a cell phone—for emergencies—but she was rather proud of the fact that she hadn’t succumbed to the pressure to carry the phone about with her. “I don’t need to reach anyone that urgently and anyone who needs me knows to reach me at my home number.”
She took a book from her bag and turned to take a seat beneath one of the stained-glass windows. “I’ll just sit and read while I wait.” The glass depicted the tongue-thrusting goddess Kali. Ione hadn’t chosen it on accident.
“Miss Carlisle.” Dev hadn’t moved, his brows drawn together in consternation when she glanced up from her bench. “I’d prefer not to have any...undue influence on the accounts of the others.”
Ione glared daggers of ice at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Dev seemed to blanch as if only now aware of his choice of words. “I mean, it would be better if none of the coven members were to discuss their versions of the events with you prior to our interviews.”
She let out an astonished and offended laugh. “You think I’m going to coach them, Mr. Gideon? You don’t know a thing about me or my coven if you imagine for one moment that I’d tell anyone here to lie for me—or that any of them would.”
Chatoyant eyes glittered dangerously in the candlelight. “Well, that’s just it, isn’t it? I don’t know anything about you or your coven. That’s what I’m here to assess. There’s a process and protocol that must be followed.”
Ione shrugged and opened her book. “Then follow it. I pledge a solemn oath before Kali beside me, Mr. Gideon, that I will sit here quietly and read and not ‘influence’ anyone in any way.”
He was still staring at her. She could feel the indignation radiating from him in waves as she continued to ignore him until he finally sighed his disapproval and gestured to one of the coven members to accompany him to the vestry behind the altar.
Self-satisfied prick didn’t know whom he was dealing with. She’d sit here all day if she felt l
ike it—even if he didn’t deign to talk to her at all.
A beam of sunlight through the window dappled the pages of her book with vivid reds and golds. Not the best reading light, but she was reading the same four or five words over and over again anyway, unable to make English out of them, her heart still pounding with anger—and more than a little anxiety.
“Is this seat taken?”
Ione glanced up to find the newest member of the coven smiling at her. Fresh and eager, Margot had apprenticed to an elderly member who’d decided to retire a few months ago. Ione hadn’t gotten to know her yet. Not that Ione ever really got to know anyone. Once she’d been anointed as high priestess, it seemed wiser to keep her personal and coven lives separate. As the disaster of dating Carter had proved.
Ione smiled back, grateful for the overture. “It isn’t, but aren’t you afraid I’ll accidentally influence you?”
Margot sat beside her, crossing her ankles beneath a pair of multicolored paisley leggings peeking through a sheer black skirt. Her relaxed, fun sense of personal style was the polar opposite of Ione’s carefully conservative attire. Besides the responsibility of representing the coven as its high priestess, Ione had always feared being judged as perpetuating some kind of metaphysical trend. Sedona had a reputation for being a little out there, and, while many of the merchants were perfectly genuine, some of the more touristy businesses exploited that reputation for maximum effect.
Margot crossed her arms over her ample bosom. “Don’t worry about Chauncey in there. Maybe he just can’t let go of that stick up his butt because it’s so damn tight.” She grinned as Ione nearly strangled on the startled burst of laughter she was trying to suppress. “Man, you didn’t see that thing walking away, did you?” Margot fanned herself. “Kinda makes you wish we could bring back the Great Rite.”
Now that was something Ione didn’t need to be thinking about. The image of rolling about on the floor in front of the altar with a stripped-down Dev Gideon was a little more than she could handle. Not that the Great Rite was really about rolling around on the floor having an uninhibited orgy, per se—God, she really needed to get laid more often. Ione shuddered, realizing the last time had been with Carter. And she did not find Dev Gideon attractive, she reminded herself. His personality had ruined it.
“And speaking of Rafe Diamante...” Margot winked. “How’s your sister Phoebe doing?”
Ione couldn’t hold back the laugh this time. “Yeah, my little sister pretty much hit the jackpot with that one, didn’t she?”
“Not that I was trying to get into that boy’s pants or anything, but I know quite a few women who are quietly weeping about not getting into those pants.” Margot shook her head ruefully. “All joking aside, do you think he’ll be coming back to the Covent?”
Ione closed her book. “No, I think he’s had enough of organized practice.” She was careful not to mention that, thanks to Phoebe’s demon blood awakening his inner Quetzalcoatl, Rafe now had a tendency to sprout wings and get a bit scaly when he practiced ritual. Not that Phoebe seemed to mind that this, apparently, also included the raising of sexual energy.
Ione knew just a little too much about her sister’s sex life these days. Not so much because they’d gotten particularly closer since the Carter incident, but mostly because the twins were busybodies and couldn’t resist sharing juicy tidbits with Ione after calling Phoebe to pester her for details. To hear Rhea and Theia tell it, Phoebe hadn’t left her house in weeks—because she was having trouble walking.
“Well, if you talk to him, let him know we all miss him. And not just because of his pants.” Margot smiled, putting a hand on Ione’s shoulder. “And, seriously, don’t worry about this investigation. We all know you didn’t do anything wrong. We’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” Unexpectedly, Ione had to work not to tear up. It was nice to have a vote of confidence. “That means more than you know.”
She felt Dev’s approach without looking up, as haughty, self-righteous energy filled the aisle of the nave. “I thought you were going to read quietly, Miss Carlisle.”
Margot jumped up. “Sorry. My fault. I was getting a little antsy sitting around. But don’t worry. I didn’t let her give me the whammy.”
Ione choked back another laugh and had to pretend to be focusing on her book once more, unable to look either of them in the eye.
Dev tried to vibe her with a folded-arm stance of paternal disapproval that she pretended not to see from the corner of her eye until he gave up. “And what is your name, Miss...?”
“Margot Kelley.”
“Miss Kelley, why don’t you accompany me to the vestry and we’ll have a little chat.”
Ione rolled her eyes. What was he, a headmaster in his day job?
The first interviewee, Calvin, passed her with a nod and an encouraging smile on the way out. That was two votes of confidence, anyway.
As she started to make an actual effort to put the proceedings out of her mind and read her book, a strangled cry of alarm came from the antechamber, and Calvin came stumbling back inside.
Ione was on her feet in an instant. “Calvin? What is it? What happened?” She stepped into the aisle and put an arm around his shuddering shoulders.
“On the door,” he choked out, looking ill.
Dev Gideon had come swiftly at the noise and he marched past them with determined steps, Margot following, bemused. Calvin had sunk onto one of the benches, too horrified by whatever he’d seen to articulate it.
Ione started toward the doors just as Margot hurried back inside. “What is it? What’s going on?”
“You don’t want to see it.” Margot shuddered, blinking back tears. “Somebody—some sicko nailed a dead cat to the door.”
Chapter 4
She was still high priestess of this coven, and it was her duty to protect it. Ione squeezed Margot’s hand before ignoring her advice and heading into the atrium. Dev stood in the doorway, his body framed in sunlight, looking down at the paper in his hand.
He turned as Ione neared the door and shook his head. “There’s no need to look. Someone was obviously going for shock value, and we don’t all need nightmares.”
“This is my coven, Mr. Gideon, and I’m not some delicate flower.”
Dev caught her arm as she tried to pass him and the surge of vibrational energy struck her once more—not sexual this time, thank heaven, but a powerful bolt like a warning that stopped her in her tracks.
“Let go of me.”
“Sorry.” Dev released her, looking shaken. “I’m just trying to spare you any more trauma than is necessary.”
“Necessary?” Exactly what kind of trauma would be necessary?
Dev held out the note. “I believe you were the target of this little act of terrorism.”
Ione took it, unable to resist one last glance beyond him to the mangled thing that lay on the stone walkway. She looked swiftly away. Maybe he was right about this. Whatever the aim, she had no doubt this was an escalation of the message that had been intended with the dead birds left on her porch every morning for the past week. She’d been so focused on the summonses she hadn’t even noticed the absence of this morning’s “gift.”
Her head swam as she tried to concentrate on the words written on a piece of parchment in the careful, talented hand of a calligrapher—in what appeared to be blood.
“It’s ink.” Dev guessed at her assumption. “They obviously wanted it to look like blood, but it’s ink.”
Ione breathed a little more easily and read the note aloud. “‘Out of love for the truth and from desire to elucidate it, I, Nemesis, intend to defend the following statements.’” She glanced up at Dev. “This nut is doing Martin Luther’s 95 Theses?”
Dev nodded grimly. “Just ten, but they’re what I believe Americans would call ‘doozies.�
�”
Ione continued. “‘One. When the Covent was established in the Canton du Valais in the Swiss Confederation in 1533, its aim was to illuminate the arcane as a complement to the glory of God, not to profane it.
“‘Two. The practice of the Sacred Craft within the tenets of the Covent is the antithesis of the practice of evil.
“‘Three. The thirteen founding families believed in purity of heart, purity of mind, purity of body, and purity of soul.
“‘Four. There is therefore no place in the Covent for those who harbor evil within them.
“‘Five. The high priestess of this coven has brought the stain of impure blood onto this body.’”
Ione’s voice trailed off. The remaining theses were more than she could bring herself to read aloud.
6. High Priestess Ione Carlisle, being of one of the venerable Covent families, has hidden the shameful secret that kept the Carlisle family from the ranks of the Covent for nearly four centuries: that she is of the blood of the accursed demoness Lilith.
7. Impure blood cannot be tolerated, and the body of the Covent must be cleansed.
8. Let her who pollutes the purity of the Covent be anathema and accursed.
9. To allow Ione Carlisle to continue as the high priestess of the Sedona Coventry is an act of heresy against the Covent.
The parchment shook in Ione’s hands.
10. She who brings evil into the halls of the Covent shall be admitted only into the halls of death and hell.
Dev quietly took it from her. “The writer of these words is obviously mentally unhinged, and the Covent doesn’t tolerate such harassment. But you’ll forgive me if I ask...is there any truth to the accusation?”
