Enforcer

by Patti Larsen

  Mom's mental sigh reined me in.

  Temporarily.

  “We will get to the truth of this,” Mom said. And turned the Council's power on Mia.

  Why did the former Dumont leader suddenly focus on me? All the hate and rage Shenka told me about radiated from Mia's trembling body, aimed with sharp precision at yours truly. As Mom drew out Mia's thin remaining magic, she clawed the air between us.

  I appeared, from her point of view, in a projection hanging over us all. I heard the conversation again, my denial. Mia's argument. When it was over, when her memory watched me leave the room, Mom released Mia's magic.

  “It is clear,” Mom said, “Sydlynn had nothing to do with Mia's plan. In fact, she was here reporting it.” She nodded to Quaid. “With the assistance of Enforcer Trainee Tinder.”

  Jean Marc looked like he wanted to argue. I wished he'd open his damned mouth so I could shove something large and jagged in it.

  No such luck.

  “Very well,” Andre said, “I will accept the fact the Hayle leader was not planning to attack my family.” How very generous of him. “But I demand satisfaction against Mia Tinder.”

  Not a blessed thing anyone could do about it now. Not me, not Quaid. Not my mother. Faced with Mia's clear guilt, we were trapped into what I'd hoped to avoid.

  What Mom wanted to avoid.

  She sighed deeply, nodded. “Agreed,” she said. “Mia Tinder, you are hereby under arrest and will be tried for the crime of conspiring against another coven leader.”

  Mia's howl of fury bounced back from Mom's shields. She lunged to her feet, toward me. I reacted instantly, my power throwing her back, but she never intended to hurt me, I don't think.

  She just needed room to act.

  And my power toss gave her that room. The two Enforcers took the brunt of the impact as she flew backward, the three of them bouncing from Mom's wards. Both Enforcers fell to their knees, but Mia was saved the worst of the recoil thanks to the protection of their bodies.

  Had enough time to pull something dark but sparkling from her pocket before any of us could act.

  “He said this would happen,” Mia said. “And now I know who to trust.”

  A gaping black hole opened at her feet as her sorcery—damn it, how did I not know?— poured through the crystal in her hand, the emptiness of it butting against mine as she released it at last for me to feel. Quaid's power lashed at his sister, Mom's coming to bear, but they had nothing, their magic only feeding her as she dove for the darkness.

  My own power lunged, caught the edge of the black hole, too late.

  It snapped shut behind her.

  Mia was gone.

  Andre Dumont looked terrified suddenly, pale and shaking as he stared at the place she'd been.

  I cursed myself for not paying closer attention, for missing the fact Mia had sorcery, but I couldn't help but toss him a dig, just for old hate's sake.

  “Guess you didn't see that one coming,” I said with a nasty grin. “You sleep alone, Andre?” He gaped at me, still in shock at his own miscalculation. “Want to bet she'll be coming for you some night?” I laughed, unable to help myself. “Have fun with that, won't you?”

  Mom's magic snapped across mine. “I have no choice but to declare Mia Tinder a fugitive from witch law.” She released the shielding around her office. “We will do everything we can to capture and contain her until such time as she can be tried for her crimes.”

  Andre scuttled from the room, his evil sons a whole lot less sure of themselves.

  My tremulous giggles wanted to come back, fed by my fury with myself. How did I miss it after all this time?

  Because the one who owns her taught her to hide it from us, my vampire sent.

  Belaisle.

  One more infraction to add to his tally.

  Quaid's anger reached out, but I knew the moment I touched his hand it wasn't aimed at me.

  “She made her choice,” he said. “She could have come to me.” A sharp comment rose in my mind, about just how available he'd been lately, but I pushed it down. “Instead, she chose the enemy.” His dark eyes held me in a trap of molten temper.

  I reached up, touched his cheek, my heart swelling open, my own anger fading in the face of his rigid fury.

  “Quaid,” I whispered.

  “Quaid,” she said.

  I turned to see Payten at the door, eyes traveling over the two of us, lips in a thin line.

  He stiffened, pulled away from me.

  “Leader is looking for you,” she said. Bowed to Mom. “Council Leader, Enforcer Leader Tremere is on his way.”

  I let Quaid go, hating he didn't look back.

  And that Payten did.

  Nice of me to leave Mom to mop up the mess, wasn't it? But I'd had enough, couldn't take any more. Shoulders slumped, heart heavy, I drifted my way back toward my pavilion, wishing this whole damned conclave was over already so I could hide under the covers of my bed and never come out.

  A warm hand took mine, empty power nudging me as Piers slid in beside me, matching my slow gait.

  He didn't speak, just escorted me to the front of my tent. When I stopped, turned to face him, he kissed me. But not the hot, hungry kiss I was used to. Instead, his lips moved slowly over mine, nose stroking my cheek, fingers light in my hair, sliding over my neck.

  The tingle was there, but subtle, kind and caring, and for a moment a lump rose in my throat.

  “Syd,” he whispered over my mouth. “I know where your heart lies.” His gray eyes were soft, full of compassion. “And I know you're out of time.” Nice of him to remind me. “And while I realize you may not have taken me seriously in the past, I'm asking you now.” His hands slid down and grasped mine, lifting them to press my open palms against his chest. “Choose me as your mate. I swear you'll never regret it.”

  He didn't wait for my response, just kissed me softly one more time before turning and leaving me there. Vulnerable, damn him. Wondering.

  Quaid picked duty over the magic binding us together, the love I knew would never die. Liam was honorable, if too kind, according to those who thought they had a say.

  And while I knew I didn't love him, not like I loved Quaid, nor even as I loved Liam, I adored Piers.

  Was his the strength I needed? Was love just a liability?

  Sadder now than I'd been before, I turned and went inside the pavilion, knowing I wouldn't sleep a wink.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty

  True to my expectations, I paced the night away and I wasn't alone. After a long talk with Shenka about Mia, Sassafras adding his lecture on top of hers, the three of us took turns either circling the small main room or sitting morosely staring into space.

  Because sleep was overrated.

  Breakfast turned out to be a giant affair, large tables and massive amounts of food spread out in the common areas of each pavilion. I found myself dining with a pair of witches from the Hensley coven while Tallah cornered her sister, still struggling to meet my eyes. Whatever decisions Mom had reached about the Hensley leader, I was still nervous about her particular need to expose us to normals, but even more so her contact with the supposed Steam Union.

  Had to remind myself to prod Piers later to see if he’d heard anything from his contacts.

  From the irritation on my second's face, the way she crossed her arms over her chest and refused to look at her fast-talking sibling, Shenka wasn't regretting leaving the family coven and had given up completely the guilt she’d carried telling me about Tallah’s conspiracy, not only with the sorcerers, but her constant badgering to return to her family coven.

  Conclave didn't officially begin until lunchtime, but it didn't stop the gathered witches from finding advanced seating in the giant center pavilion hours early. Tiered risers now lined the inside of the space, a large section in the lowest row set aside for each of the visiting Council and race leaders. Otherwise, segregation went out the window, werewolves sitting next to Sidhe, wit
ches mingling with Steam Union while the large center space remained open, reminding me of a circus tent waiting for the show to start. Though the vampires were notably absent during daylight hours, I spotted a beautiful woman speaking to Mom and, recognizing her from Sunny's group the night before.

  And went to find out who she was.

  “Sydlynn Hayle.” The tall, buxom redhead shook my hand with firm pressure, handsome face mature though her pale green eyes sparkled with good humor. “I've been wanting to meet you for some time now, but my queen has kept me busy.”

  “Syd, this is Chambrelle Strait,” Mom said. “Sunny's human representative.”

  Ah. Gotcha. “Nice to meet you, too.”

  “We need to find time to get to know each other,” Chambrelle said. “When life isn't so crazy.”

  “You mean this isn't normal?” I laughed, liking the easy way she joined me.

  “Then again,” she said. “If lack of crazy was a stipulation, we'd never meet again.”

  Someone blew a horn, the tooting joined by a second, a third, until a ringing chorus of music summoned us to conclave.

  Chambrelle followed Mom, waving to me as they left. I had a good vibe from the woman, and if Sunny trusted her, I trusted her. Still. Getting to know her better was a great idea, if only to make sure.

  I'd been a terrible judge of character lately.

  Part of me felt a little sick as I searched the crowd for Shenka. The last conclave I'd attended had been a trial. Mom's. And though things all turned out for the best—eventually—being here still brought back memories.

  At least the feeling around me was more festive than somber, the gathered magical races excited to be here. Their enthusiasm, like walking through a wall of childish delight, lightened my mood until, when I finally sank onto one of the elevated benches next to my second, I was actually smiling.

  Sassafras left Shenka's lap and stood in mine, thick tail winding around my wrist.

  Keep your senses open, he sent. If the Brotherhood is planning an attack, it will be while we're in session, I'm thinking.

  Way to pop my bubble, smartass cat.

  Still, he was absolutely right. And, thanks to his reminder, I was acutely aware, moments, I think, before anyone else, we were about to have company.

  But not a sorcerous invasion. At least, not overtly. Just as Mom and her Council settled into place, the other Leaders already seated and surrounded by their own members, the air in the center of the pavilion ruptured into blue flame.

  And Margaret Applegate burst through.

  I respected my mother for a lot of things. Her ability to hold her temper under pressure was at the top of the list. Even as my alter egos fumed, my anger surging inside like a rampaging bull in a glass factory, Mom faced the sudden appearance of the European Council Leader and her members with calm and absolute poise.

  So. Jealous.

  Still, Mom's poise left me the freedom to poke around while she dealt with Applegate.

  Because she wouldn't have liked how I wanted to handle it. Nope, nope.

  “Council Leader Applegate.” Mom's voice rang in the space. Magic powered, clearly. No way she made herself sound like she was inside an empty marble hall instead of a soft-topped tent full of people without it. “Welcome to conclave. So happy to see you've accepted the invitation after all.”

  Um, weren't there rules, Mom? Hadn't she just brought up those rules to me last night over Mia?

  I'd have booted the arrogant old biddy's ass out the front side of the tent and back across the Atlantic with a very sharp shoe.

  A rumbling undercurrent raced around the tiers of seating, the other Council Leaders and heads of races scowling at Applegate and her posse as they hung in the air over the empty center of the pavilion. Only a handful of witches arrived with her, but at least fifty Enforcers made a protective semi-circle with just the front end open for her to face off with Mom. I poked and prodded among them, searching for a particular pair of witches I'd met in Ukraine last winter, but came up empty.

  Neither Gwendolyn Ravensdale nor Finlay Wright were part of Applegate's war party.

  Seriously, that was what it amounted to. Strong witches, a bundle of Enforcers... made me wonder what the Brotherhood was up to now.

  And worry. Lots and lots of worry as my maji power opened fully in response.

  “I believe,” Applegate said in the most insulting tone I'd ever heard from a human mouth, “you're in my seat, Miriam.”

  Oh hell to the tenth degree no.

  But Mom's reaction to the arrogance of Applegate—Liander Belaisle, in other words—was lost to me. Because I had a more important discovery to slice bits of anxiety from my already tense coil of magic.

  Applegate had a sorcerer with her. The gaping emptiness was impossible to miss. And not just a thralled witch, either. A full-blown, power sucking Brotherhood member right here, front and center.

  Mom. I felt her catch my thrown thought even as she responded to Applegate.

  I'm a little busy, Syd. “I'm afraid you're mistaken,” Mom said out loud. “As host of this conclave, the head seat falls to me.”

  You're about to be busier, I sent. Let her feel the sorcerer.

  Her face didn't register her reaction, nor did her outward feeling of magic. But I was inside her head when she began to swear, so I knew better.

  Taught me a few things. My demon, even. She flinched from a few of Mom's choice curses, mumbling to herself about Mom going over the line.

  I was pretty used to focusing on two conversations at once by now, absorbing the mutterings and noddings of the other Councils, the general consensus in Mom's favor even as she stopped cursing and grumbled a growl in my head.

  Pinpoint the scum, Mom sent.

  Her wish, my command.

  It wasn't hard to find him, floating with a grim smile next to a vapid looking woman with overly bleached hair. As one of the Enforcers shifted position, I caught a clear look at his face.

  And starting swearing myself.

  We know him? Good thing we were taking turns losing our crap. I didn't want to think what would happen if Mom and I both snapped at once.

  I do, I snarled. And did my best not to throw myself at Vasyl Krajnik, the former second of the Czar of the Black Souls.

  I heard Oleksander's roar of fury before I remembered I wasn't the only one who had a grudge against the sorcerer. The werewolf king surged to his feet, Charlotte next to him, Raoul, her father, standing behind with Maksym and half the werewolf nation. All shaking, bodies vibrating, partially shifting as a people, wolf snouts and eyes appearing in tandem as Oleksander lifted one clawed hand and pointed at the smirking sorcerer.

  “Vasyl!” The werewolf didn't have Mom's power to back his voice. Didn't need it. “Ви мрець!”

  Uh-oh. I recognized the murderous tone in his voice enough to know what the big were just said was a clear threat. I threw up a shield around the werewolves as Applegate smirked at the fuming king and his gathered people. As if expecting this very reaction and anticipating the outcome.

  Charlotte. I dove into her mind, slapping her firmly with my power as she howled in blind fury. Snap out of it. She tried to jerk free, but I was stronger. Listen to me, I sent. This is what they want. Do not under any circumstance shift into full wolf form.

  I could see her shudder even from across the pavilion, but caught her sharp nod, the tightness of her agreement. Charlotte spun on Oleksander, hissed in his ear. He tried to fight her, as she fought me, but her claws dug into his arms, turning back to fingers as his anger dulled and retreated.

  We were going to have to keep a very careful eye on the werewolves.

  Sucked so much.

  “Your little dogs seem upset by something,” Applegate turned to Mom. “Hard to paper train, are they?”

  Wow, she was really pushing it. And not just with Mom. From the angry expressions on many faces, this whole “let's try to get along” thing Mom had going was working out okay. To the point no one
had Applegate's back.

  Belaisle must have sensed his slip up, because he abandoned his attack of the werewolves and focused on Mom.

  “Very well,” Applegate said. “We'll see what kind of leader you are when all is said and done, Hayle.” The European witch swooped toward one side of the tent, her power rudely pushing aside some of the gathered witches and other races watching the spectacle. Mom didn't move to stop her, to my surprise, as Applegate made herself a little podium of her own, chairs and a table appearing out of nowhere, as the European Council Leader settled in with her army around her.

  Bindi didn’t have Mom’s reserve, her people grumbling around her as she stood and scowled at Applegate.

  “Your contingent seems a bit off weight,” she said in her strong Australian accent. “No covens wanted to come play?” She eyed the Enforcers inside the European Leader’s section. “And we all agreed when this began our Enforcers would remain outside.”

  “I agreed to no such thing,” Applegate said. To Mom. Ignoring Bindi completely. Nice. “And these witches are my support staff.” Yeah, right. Buying it.

  Not.

  Bindi spluttered, glared at Mom.

  Who simply nodded to the Australian Leader with more respect than necessary, probably in an effort to diffuse the growing unhappiness in the pavilion as other leaders started to shift and mutter.

  Nothing like stirring up a sense of entitlement in a group of witches to start a party.

  “We will accept Margaret’s assurances,” Mom said in a velvet voice backed with steel, “that her support staff,” she said that with a straight face? Wow, “will maintain the expected decorum.”

  Margaret just sniffed, looked away. Bindi looked around, for support, obviously. And this could have dissolved quickly into mayhem. Mom was just a figurehead after all. The Councils were here of their own accord.

  But the others quieted, shrugged, leaving Bindi no recourse.

  “I formally lodge my displeasure of this ruling,” she said. And sat.

  Mom was already moving on, smoothing edges with her power.