Enforcer

by Patti Larsen

  Gram shrugged her thin shoulders under the borrowed black robe she wore. Now that he has them convinced, she gestured at the gathering, an attack to take it back will be seen as an affront on another magic race.

  I'd had my hands tied before. But this was ridiculous.

  I have my doubts the Brotherhood were the creators of the plane, Gram sent, reaffirming Eva’s thin information. I think it's more likely the maji were the masters of it at one point. Knew it. But I don't have proof.

  Bummer.

  There was one way to find out. “How do we know you created the plane?” I pushed against his power as he turned to me with a smile.

  A knowing smile, the bastard.

  “Perhaps you should ask your friends,” he said. “The real maji.”

  Oh no, he did not. And yet, he might as well have punched me in the gut. Belaisle knew where I was heading with this.

  And he already had an answer.

  I called Iepa anyway, not expecting a response. Felt her sadness as she responded.

  She never responded.

  Unless it was to stab me in the damned back.

  Why did I bother?

  She appeared next to Belaisle, a wavering, soft form hovering over the ground. Her power radiated outward, touching the far walls of the pavilion, leaving absolutely no doubt who—and what—she was. Forget the gasps, this conclave had enough of them today already. I glared at my maji guide/slayer of hope as she bowed her head to me.

  “The empty plane was once the home of the sorcerers,” she said as her iridescent power floated around her. She didn’t say they created it, though, did she? “All sorcerers.” Her eyes drifted to Eva Southway. “Before the break.”

  So they were one big, happy family once, were they?

  I almost pushed her about the real creators of the plane until I snagged on the loophole she’d made.

  Did she just give me a way to access the stronghold through the Steam Union?

  Iepa didn't stay, flashing out again even as the conclave broke into excited chatter. I locked gazes with Eva who only held mine a moment before looking away.

  What was churning behind her gaze? And would it work to our advantage?

  Anger burned a hole through me as I threw some parting words after Iepa.

  So nice to see you, I sent with as much venom as I could muster. My day wouldn't be complete without you stabbing me in the back.

  She didn't answer.

  Exactly as I expected.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Seven

  A second gaping hole opened and Piers Southway stepped through. From the easy grin on his face, he'd managed to listen in. Alone, towering over the shorter, more slender Belaisle, he saluted the leader of the Brotherhood.

  “I think I heard a little birdie,” he said. “She mentioned something about the empty plane. How it was once the home of all sorcerers.” Piers stroked his chin with one hand before winking at the now scowling leader. “Does that mean I get to pick the paint color for my new room?”

  A titter of laughter raced around the tent. I could feel Eva's power pushing against her son, saw the flicker of anger on her face, but cheered inside as the young Southway did what his mother refused to do.

  Challenged the Brotherhood.

  “Steam Union,” Belaisle almost spat at Piers's feet. “You're not sorcerers. When you’re not hiding in mouse holes, you’re just lapdogs of the witches.”

  Since when did witches and the Steam Union work together?

  Just petty jealousy on Belaisle’s part, maybe. I was pretty sure he never meant to let his temper slip. To show his shark-like underbelly. Doing so broke the spell of words and persuasion he held over the gathering, their support retreating in a tangible wave.

  Go for the throat, I sent. Nice and juicy.

  Patience, my pet, Piers sent back.

  What was he up to?

  At least Iepa gave us something we might be able to use after all.

  Piers turned to his mother. “Mistress Southway,” he said. “As your representative, I request the right to petition for entry into our ancestral home.” Oh, he'd been listening all right, the bratski. His voice thrummed with emotion as he spun on Mom next. “How our hearts have longed for a place to belong, Council Leader. A true home where we can dwell and be at peace with our dear brothers.” His hand fell on Belaisle's shoulder.

  Liander shrugged it off with a snarl.

  I coughed out a laugh, wanting to dance up and down in my seat and only holding still due to the hold Gram had on my arm.

  Mom nodded graciously. “We will add the discussion to our schedule,” she said. “Now, Master Belaisle, if you will please take your seat, we have proceedings to reconvene.”

  Oh, snap.

  I had to endure staring at Belaisle the rest of the morning, but it was worth it. Just to see him scowl.

  Which made me suddenly nervous as we broke for lunch. No way he didn't foresee a snag like this one. Or did he? Maybe Iepa's little pronouncement threw him for a loop.

  No way. Wouldn't underestimate him ever again.

  I waited for most of the place to empty before turning to Gram and Varity.

  “Okay,” I said. “Harvard. I'll go kick some ass and you two back me up.”

  Gram swatted me. “Don't be an idiot,” she snapped. “The stronghold isn't going anywhere.” She hesitated, jaw set. “Where is Ameline?”

  I blinked in shock. “Gram, I know you need your power back, but—”

  She whacked me again, anger burning in her eyes. “When in the world will you ever learn to pay attention, girl?”

  Ouch. Physical form and feelings hurt, I shrugged.

  And got it as Gram sighed.

  “You want me to call her,” I said. “And go after Belaisle.”

  “Ding ding,” Gram said. “She finally woke the hell up and got it.”

  Sassafras's tail thrashed against my thigh. “Nicely,” he said.

  “No time for nice,” Gram shot back. “No time for anything.”

  Hell in a hand basket.

  I fought the urge to leave right then, spent the next several hours arguing with myself and the need Gram saw to pull Ameline into this mess with me. A mess she would, most likely, add to if given a chance.

  Tallah, naturally, played right into Belaisle’s hands, giving her address as Mom had encouraged her to do. Before we both understood just how manipulated the Hensley leader had been.

  How we all had been.

  I hated Belaisle with a passion so powerful as I listened to Tallah speak in a clear, ringing voice, her hope feeding the conclave he’d buttered up, it was almost impossible to hold still.

  And, coming from one of their own, they began to buy it, these silly witches. Her initial mention as she stood to address them raised the expected response.

  “Council Leaders,” she said in her ringing voice, stunning with her glowing dark skin, long, straight hair to her waist, bright red dress standing out like a rose among a black garden of witches, “though perhaps his message might not be trustworthy, I would ask we at least consider enough time has passed for us, as a nation, to reveal ourselves to normals and take our place at their sides in ruling this plane.”

  They didn’t have the same excessive reaction they did when Belaisle brought it up, but close. In fact, I think a pair of old witches down two rows from me might have almost expired from shock at the mere mention.

  This was giant, taboo, holy crap run away stuff Tallah was talking about. Witches had long memories, especially when they were connected to burnings and stakes and Inquisitions. Normals hunted us, weren’t prepared to share their little lives with those who would always be more powerful.

  And yet, they didn’t run, the conclave of witches. They fanned themselves after shrieking and covering their ears. Finally stilled enough Tallah could continue.

  “The modern world is far different than the one we fear,” she said, turning in a slow half-circle, as though addressing each and ev
ery witch. “Technology has done much to dull their superstitions, to making us legend.” She bowed her head to the scowling werewolves. “All of us legend.”

  Aoilainn looked bored, bless her. The Unseelie King and Queen refused to meet Tallah’s gaze.

  As for Chambrelle, she shook her head, face grim.

  “You’re a fool,” the vampire representative said, red hair glowing in the light as she stood to face Tallah down. “My queen and her people haven’t had the luxury of hiding as well as the witches. They have been hunted by normals throughout the ages. It is only through sheer force of will and absolute caution they have been kept safe from exposure and I, for one, will never allow those I guard to fall under the horrors of normal’s attention.” She sat, arms crossing over her chest.

  Tallah’s smile faltered as Oleksander pounded the thin rail in front of him and shouted something in Ukrainian. I could only imagine it was in support of Chambrelle as she nodded to him with gratitude on her face.

  Considering both Odhran and Niamh continued to ignore Tallah, their vote, and that of the silent and petulant Aoilainn, were answer enough.

  “Coven Leader Hensley,” Mom said. “Revealing ourselves to normals isn’t our decision to make alone. Other magic races must be in line. For, once normals are aware of us, surely they will go looking to see if there are those with power beyond our ken.”

  Tallah bobbed a nod of agreement. “I only ask we discuss it,” she said, her disappointment clear in her voice.

  After centuries of fear, of hiding, the witching nation, steadied by the distrust of the other magic races, did what they always did.

  Refused to change while pretending they might, maybe, someday, if pigs flew and unicorns pooped rainbows.

  Didn’t mean they weren’t going to talk it to death, though. Because, what would be a discussion they planned to do nothing about if it wasn’t picked to death down to the dregs of its meaning?

  The debate ran from Council to Council for the next several hours, a ring around the rosie from should we to hell no.

  And all through it, Gram poked. Prodded. Jabbed. Snarled.

  Until I just couldn’t take it anymore. So, as the sun began to set that evening, I finally tossed up my hands when conclave ended, the gathered witches—if only the witches—chattering in excitement about the possibility of revealing their power for all the world to see. I spun away from Gram’s steady pick-pick-picking that hadn’t eased up all afternoon and went in search of my enemy.

  I left them all, Sass safe with Shenka, waiting until I reached the outside of the pavilion before tearing a thin hole in the veil and stepping into Ahbi's embrace.

  I guess I need to find Ameline, I sent, grumpy.

  My demon grandmother grunted. And dumped me in the trees just outside the conclave site.

  Testy old bat was in as bad a mood as I was.

  “I was wondering when you'd get around to looking for me.”

  My stomach knotted further as I realized Ahbi hadn't abandoned me there out of pique, though I almost leaped out of my own skin as the wild magicks, no longer content to remain hidden, shrieked in fury and fled in a flare of power.

  Ameline emerged from the dark trees, pulling back the hood of her stolen Enforcer robe, watching them go with speculation before meeting my eyes. “Nice to see you, Syd,” she said. “Ready to do things my way yet?”

  It was only sheer will keeping my hands from closing around her slender neck. Her ice blue eyes told me she found it funny.

  I was not laughing.

  “When this is over,” I said, “when Belaisle and his people are toast, I'm going to kill you for what you did to my grandmother.”

  Grandmothers.

  But Gram, most of all. I could feel her power crawling around inside Ameline. Felt the contact, the familiar connection. My demon howled her pain and need to jerk the bitch's heart from her chest.

  Ameline laughed. “We'll see,” she said. “Now, if you're through with your little show of force, we need to talk.”

  I shoved her back into the woods as an Enforcer patrol went by. Ameline didn't seem worried about being caught, which made me nervous.

  “About the stronghold,” I said.

  Ameline's frown of pity fired up my temper again. “Irrelevant for now. His seizure of the site means nothing to us. Not in the end. We will arrive at the appointed time and place when fate decides no matter what Liander Belaisle's plans to the contrary.”

  Was it wrong she actually made me feel better with that pompous little speech?

  “There will only be four of us in the end,” she said. “And all will be decided one way or another.”

  True. Okay then.

  She leaned toward me. “You are correct, though,” she said, like it hurt her. “This must end. It is in our power to bring the prophecy to fruition, not his.”

  Good to know. “How?”

  Ameline shrugged. “I have almost all I need,” she said. “Only two are missing. The first I think I can handle on my own. But the second is more problematic.”

  She was talking about power. She already had a baby soul from the Sidhe, born of Bronagh, Aoilainn’s main advisor, and Cian, the Gate creator, which still gave me the creeps. Like Liam and Ameline had a kid. Shudder. And with Gram's witch magic tied to the Enforcers, Ameline's power there was set, as far as I could tell. She was born with creation magic, like me, and her sorcery was growing, I felt that much.

  Which left vampire.

  And demon.

  “This could all be over tonight,” Ameline said in a reasonable voice, “if you're willing to give up your sister.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  My demon reacted well before the words Ameline spoke made it through my stunned mind. She lunged forward, taking control of me, driving my right fist toward the other witch's face.

  Ameline was clearly ready for my reaction, dodging to the side, though she underestimated my demon's speed. My knuckles impacted her shoulder as she twisted to the side, sending her spinning as my right foot lashed out and caught her in the ass, propelling her forward into a tree.

  Ameline spun, snarling, power surging.

  “If we fight,” she said, “it will attract the Enforcers. And this will be over before it began, the Brotherhood the victors. Is that what you want?”

  “You.” I cut the air with one hand, back in control as my egos boosted my fury. “Stay.” I lashed at a tree, sending a vibration through it so powerful the top of the evergreen shook and swayed. “Away.” A deep, rumbling tremor made Ameline stagger while Shaylee held me still. “From. My. Sister.” I ended with a pulse of spirit power that took her full in the chest.

  She absorbed most of it, but the attack left her gasping even as Galleytrot's desperate mind reached for me.

  Syd. Thunder rumbled in his voice. I felt him running, covering the miles, heading for me.

  Stop, I sent back. It's fine. Protect the family.

  He skidded to a halt. You're sure?

  Nothing you can do, I sent as I faced down my opponent, both of us panting a little. Just having a chat with Ameline.

  Ah. Galleytrot paused. Have fun, then. Don't break the plane, okay?

  No promises. I let him go, grateful for the aside. Talking to him calmed me enough I was able to speak without hurting someone.

  “You heard me,” I said. “Touch one hair on Meira's head and the prophecy can wait for another dark maji to come along.”

  “Fine,” Ameline snarled. “Fool. But when you change your mind, when you realize this is the only way, I'll be waiting.”

  Blue magic flared around her, the power of the Enforcers as she drew on Gram's magic, and vanished.

  I cursed a long string of vile words in a variety of languages while stomping a useless circle in the spread of fallen pine needles. That's how she'd managed to avoid notice, set off the wards. She felt like an Enforcer.

  And I was an idiot, for real.

  I finally cooled enoug
h to stop and evaluate.

  We can't let her have Meems, my demon growled.

  Never. Cold day in hell, I sent.

  And yet... I hated it when my vampire said that.

  There will be another way, Shaylee sent.

  We can hope, my vampire sent. Though perhaps we need to ask Meira herself before we choose for her.

  There's nothing to choose, I sent in a snarl before jerking open the veil.

  What a ginormous waste of time.

  Ahbi hugged me fiercely as though agreeing with my determination to keep Meira safe before depositing me just outside my pavilion. With a whisper of warning.

  Didn't take long for me to figure out why Ahbi spit me out here. Not while Belaisle and Vasyl stood talking. With Celeste Oberman in their midst.

  They spotted me before I could overhear, Belaisle's fake smile widening as he waved for me to join them. Vasyl's shark eyes watched me, cold and silent as the tall vampire clan leader glared her hate for me.

  “Look who decided to make an appearance,” Belaisle said as he turned to Celeste. Full dark had just settled. She didn't waste any time. “As a representative of Blood Clan Sthol and her majesty, Queen Pannera.”

  I was so over the show, he had no idea.

  “How nice for you,” I said before turning my back on them and walking away.

  Not the response Belaisle was expecting, I don't think. It took him a few trotting strides to catch up to me, smile still in place.

  “I just wanted to thank you for such a lovely event,” he said. “Though I've enjoyed my time among you all, duty calls.”

  Leaving so soon? Damn, I knew he had more on his agenda than aggravating me.

  I stopped and turned to face him, seeing Celeste and Vasyl watching from the corner of my eye.

  “I'll see you soon,” I said, pouring sunshine and rainbows into my tone. “Oh, Ameline says hello. She's looking forward to it.”

  His smile flickered, hardened around the edges. “I'll be waiting,” he said.

  Opened a hole in the veil. And stepped through it with a small salute.

  I ignored Celeste's laugh at my expense, refusing to acknowledge her at all. She was a minor player in this. It was Belaisle I had to worry about.