Enforcer

by Patti Larsen

  What the hell was he planning?

  That man was giving me an ulcer so big it was about to eat my liver for dinner.

  The touch of Mom's mind, almost desperate, broke the nasty spiral of my thoughts and spun me around. She wasn't calling for me or anything. In fact, I think the connection was a mistake. But there was no way I was leaving her to face whatever it was that freaked her out.

  I didn't run.

  Not quite.

  Her office was crowded with Enforcers, Pender right in front of her desk. I had to push my way through, saw Quaid glaring in fury. But not at me.

  Their anger bubbled like a volcano waiting to erupt. Mom met my eyes as I joined her in facing down the need of the order.

  Pender's gaze flickered to me, determination failing him for a fraction of a second. “We are ready to reclaim our stronghold, Council Leader,” he said, voice vibrating and crackling with power. “Just give us the word and we will fight to the death.”

  A murmur of agreement ran through the watching Enforcers.

  And I thought I was bad.

  “My hands are tied,” Mom said. At least she held steady, reasonable. “With the supporting information we received from the maji Iepa, it is clear we no longer have a right to the stronghold or the plane in which it rests.”

  Yeah, they took that well.

  Mom squashed their furious response with a dose of Council magic. “Listen to me, all of you.” They fell silent, all that duty and honor stuff shutting them up. Good for something, at least.

  Oh, Syd. So cynical.

  Mom went on. “There will come a time our people will stand again in the halls of the stronghold.” They swayed like saplings in a strong wind at the formality of her words while I choked on how much she sounded like a bad epic fantasy novel. “But that day is not today. You must believe I will do everything in my power to restore our honor.” There it was again. Stupid word, really. Foolish sentiment. What good was honor when all it got you was a pack of mindless drones hell bent on throwing their lives away for nothing? “For now, I ask you,” her tone shifted, voice throbbing with power, “I order you, my Enforcers, to stay the course and have faith in me.”

  They shuddered as if she'd scratched them behind the ears and nodded as a group. All but Pender who jerked himself around and led them out.

  I spotted Quaid leaving, head down and, on impulse, went after him.

  Thank you for coming to my rescue, Mom sent softly as I ran after him.

  My power hugged her in answer.

  He was easy enough to corner in a dark alley between pavilions, my magic sliding around him, my hand on his arm turning him around. The guilt of the slap I'd delivered returned in a flare of hurt, but Quaid didn't seem to hold it against me.

  Though he held something against me. The full length of him, crushed to me as he wrapped his arms around me and pressed his hungry mouth over mine.

  I kissed him back, wanting to devour him, opening my power to his fully. Thoughts of Payten, of Piers and Liam, of Belaisle and the poor, dead Enforcers left me as the bond we shared, the link to our destiny, smothered my will and swallowed me whole.

  When he came up for air, I panted against his throat, the heat of him the warmth I craved. Such an odd understanding. I'd lost the ability to feel heat and cold, at least environmentally. Had always showered in the hottest water I could, missing even that small joy now. But standing there, in Quaid's arms, in the circle of his devouring magic, I finally understood what I'd been longing for all along.

  “I have to go,” he said in a voice coarse from emotion. “My leader needs me.”

  I grasped his arms, anger flaring. “You promise me, Quaid,” I said. “You swear to me you won't go to the stronghold.”

  He shivered. “Syd.”

  “It's your duty,” I said, using it against him, “to uphold the command of the Council Leader.” Quaid tried to look away, agony on his face, but I shook him from my hold on his arms and he met my eyes again. “You must protect your leader and your Council. And that means keeping Pender—and your sorry ass—away from the Brotherhood. Do you hear me?”

  Quaid wavered, groaned softly. Bent his head over mine and touched my lips with his, the softest kiss, hot breath trickling over my skin and down into my lungs.

  “I love you,” he said. And left me there.

  He might as well have just ripped out my heart.

  “You believe him?”

  I shrieked and spun, both hands pressed to my chest, to find Piers watching me from the shadows. His face showed no expression as he came to my side, looking up to where Quaid had gone before sighing and meeting my eyes again.

  “You scared the crap out of me.” I swatted his arm.

  “Do you?” Piers's intensity freaked me out. “Do you believe him?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. Bit my lower lip.

  The tall sorcerer nodded. “So do I,” he said. “But that doesn't mean he's going to do the right thing.”

  I hugged myself, not wanting to have this conversation. I had enough going on, didn't I?

  Piers didn't seem to care what I wanted.

  “Love can only take you so far,” he said. Paused. “You love another, too?”

  I nodded, feeling miserable. I couldn't believe I just stood there, allowing Piers to strip my heart raw.

  Oh, wait. Quaid did that already.

  Right.

  “Sometimes love isn't the important thing,” Piers said. “Not at first.”

  I just stared at him a moment before speaking. “I don't love you.”

  He nodded. “I don't love you either,” he said. “But I adore you. And I know we are compatible.” He didn't try to kiss me. Far too practical for that at the moment. “And I have enough of a backbone to stand up to you when necessary.” Damn him. He'd been talking to Sassafras. “Your Sidhe suitor doesn't have that quality.”

  That cat was a pelt for my floor when I caught him.

  Piers backed off, blonde hair rippling in the light as he stepped out of the shadows. “Time does wonders,” he said. Opened his mouth as if to say something else. Shrugged. “I spoke to Mum,” he said, his abrupt about face making me twitch. “She's willing to try an infiltration, but fears we don't have the power to stand against the Brotherhood if they choose to expel us.”

  “Even if this conclave agrees you are part owners of the empty plane,” I said, “Belaisle is under no pressure to allow you in.” In fact, would probably enjoy crushing the Steam Union and laugh at the wails of anger from the Councils and other magic races.

  “We need proof the Brotherhood are as evil as we know they are,” Piers said. “To show the conclave they aren't to be trusted.”

  Because Belaisle had effectively hamstrung us when it came to warning the others.

  Grrr.

  “There's only one way,” I said, knots loosening in my stomach as I finally decided to act. Funny how my tension eased when I was about to walk into danger. “We need a demonstration. And a willing witness to testify.”

  “Care to fill me in?” He followed as I strode off.

  “I'm surprised you haven't thought of it yourself,” I said. “We're out of options and, risky or not, we need to free Margaret Applegate.”

  ***

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  I picked up Shenka and Sassafras on the way to see Mom. Neither of them questioned my reasoning or asked where we were going until we sat in Mom's office. And not alone. Our little group had assembled yet again, Eva Southway's sorcery blocking off the room for privacy.

  Because it didn't really matter at this point if the rest of the conclave knew we were talking. Belaisle's little show and Iepa's matching tell had blown the lid off everything.

  When I laid out the way I saw things to Mom and the others, my mother sighed and sank back into her chair.

  “While I agree with you,” she said, “what you're suggesting is complicated.”

  Uncle Frank snorted. “That's a nice way to put it,” he said
. “Syd's about to start an international witch war in front of every High Council on the plane and you think it's complicated.”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “It won't be seen as interference if it works,” I said. “Margaret will be free to say so.”

  “Wherein lies the issue at hand,” Sunny said. “I don't mean to counter you, Syd, but what if you fail?”

  No one said anything, though the ground under my feet trembled as Odhran and Niamh both scowled.

  When the silence broke, it was the Unseelie Queen who shattered it. “There is no success without risk,” she said. “I agree with Sydlynn, in this instance. It's worth trying, if only to ensure the Brotherhood no longer has control over one of the High Councils.”

  And all the witches underneath her, even without direct taint. An entire territory owned by the Brotherhood, able to act and react within our race, within our governing bodies, unchecked.

  And ready to spread, if I knew Belaisle. To take over all witches, exactly what he wanted. Subtle and under the radar. Because someone like him would rather slip his way through a crack like a cockroach than actually attack head on.

  The idea we could lose just by our own race’s fear of taking action made my stomach ache.

  It was then I understood why he brought up the idea of witches coming out. Not to encourage them. But to ensure they burrowed deeper into their private little groups, segregating them further as they ensured their coven’s safety by minding their own business, secure in the fact they’d talked it out.

  Oh. My. Swearword.

  Evil and brilliant. He knew witches better than they knew themselves.

  Mom said they were complacent, more interested in their petty little lives than the grand scheme. My job wasn’t to destroy the Brotherhood. Though that would come.

  My job was to make the witches pay attention.

  How often had I heard that particular pair of words used together, aimed at me? Gram. Sassafras.

  I was as guilty as everyone else of losing my focus. Sure, my problems and interactions were big picture. But I still didn’t see the forest for the trees. My disasters kept me so wrapped up in what was happening to me and my family—and to the planes—I failed to recognize I was losing the real fight.

  To wake up the witch nation. Before it was too late.

  Okay. So how to manage something no one had ever done, not in the centuries since covens went into hiding?

  Lost in me me me again. So much I almost missed it when Meira spoke up. “Have we managed to examine the others?” My mood lifted a little as Mom's smile appeared.

  “We have,” she said. “Thanks to Eva and her people.”

  “Surprising,” the Steam Union leader said. “Europe is the only territory the Brotherhood affected.”

  Well, not exactly true. But Mom and her Council were free now, weren't they?

  No time for personal back pats.

  “The most dangerous part of this,” Shenka said, voice quiet as though nervous to interrupt, “is the fact some of the younger witches are actually buying into what Belaisle is selling.”

  Hang on. Didn’t I just have this conversation with myself?

  “They’ll back down,” I said. “Witches always do.”

  Shenka’s frown told me she disagreed. “Our coven has long been indoctrinated in radical ideas,” she said. “It was my grandmother’s wish, and my mother’s, that witches be free.” Shenka’s voice rose in volume as her courage increased. “And they will maintain that goal. As will some of the more forward thinking.”

  A few rebels. I had to love them, wished I could make every witch like them, even as the desire to take them and shake them swamped me with need. “Thanks to Tallah,” I said.

  Shenka flushed, red tint flaring under her dark skin. “I’m well aware of my sister’s faults,” she said. “But we were raised to believe we could be liberated to use our magic in the open one day. And while I understand such a wish is foolhardy—as long as the Brotherhood is involved—it’s still something I hope for myself.” She paused as I let my magic hug her, apologetic. “She is motivated, has Miriam’s blessing to pursue it during conclave.”

  Mom’s hands settled on her desk. “If only I’d known the monster I was making. Even a few voices, a handful to step outside the boundaries, can reveal us to the normals and set off a chain of events we aren’t prepared to face.”

  “That’s Belaisle’s fault,” I said. “But now that it’s out in the open, we need to cage it up again.”

  “Do we?” Shenka spoke up again. Hesitated. “We've been underground for so long, suppressing who we are. But this is the twenty-first century. The Dark Ages are long gone.” She chewed her lower lip. “And the days of the Inquisition and the power of the Brotherhood over the church.”

  “My dear,” Oleksander said, leaning over to pat Shenka's knee. “I can tell you, without a shadow of doubt, the moment you expose yourself to normals, you will be hunted and trapped, enslaved.” He nodded his big head. “Studied and bred for more power. You understand?”

  She sighed, sagged. “I know,” she said. “But not if we used magic against them as defense.”

  Against normals? I shuddered. “You realize any plan of Liander Belaisle’s is a bad one, right?”

  Shenka's dark eyes were full of sorrow. “I just... I'm worried, Syd.”

  Mom stood and gestured to the others who rose. “I'll deal with Tallah,” she said. “And I will speak to the other leaders about this nonsense.” Shenka looked hurt. “I'm sorry,” Mom said. “It's not nonsense, Shenka. But it is unthinkable.”

  My second backed off, head down, while I did my best not to storm off, find Tallah Hensley and beat some freaking sense into her.

  Seriously.

  “For now,” Mom said, “our focus is on Margaret Applegate.” She fixed me with a steady stare. “You have a plan?”

  I didn't, not really. But Piers was way ahead of me.

  “We do,” he said, stepping to my side. “The sorcerer second of Eloise Brindle is the lynchpin to Belaisle's hold over Applegate.” He smoothed his long, blonde hair with one hand, the other falling on my shoulder. “Syd gave me the idea to check.” I did? “The power core of control, over Applegate, is no longer Belaisle's, but sits with Vasyl Krajnik.”

  That was good news, wasn't it?

  Eva looked irritated to the point of snapping. “You are to ask permission before acting.”

  “Leave the boy,” Oleksander said. “He's done well.”

  I'll pay for it later, Piers sent to me. But it's worth it.

  “If we can free Eloise,” Sassafras said, “you think Applegate will follow?”

  “I know,” Piers stressed the word as he addressed my demon cat, “if we break Vasyl, the controls over the entire territory will fall.”

  Big responsibility Belaisle laid on the other sorcerer's shoulders.

  Meira's amber eyes glowed with fire. “You're thinking this is too easy?”

  Fear crawled through me, not just about this, but about her. Ameline's face flashed in my mind as I stared at my sister.

  Piers hesitated. “Perhaps,” he said. His hand tightened on my shoulder. “If so, we're walking into a trap.”

  So what else was new?

  Mom stared at her desk top for a long moment before looking up, face set. “Do it,” she said. “But Syd must stay out of it.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but she shook her head.

  “The Steam Union are sorcerers,” Mom said. “And have their own laws. Which means they are technically outside the witch network.”

  “I’m a sorcerer,” I started.

  “You’re also a witch,” Mom finished. “You can try sophistry all you want with me, missy. I refuse to give anyone reason to charge you with anything. All of your excuses and attempts to section off who you are and what you mean to different races is a smoke screen. You’re on thin ice and you know it.”

  “She’s not the only one stretching things, Mir,” Uncle Frank said
. “The sorcerers are at conclave, have agreed to follow conclave law.”

  Eva shrugged and smiled. “What's the worst that can happen? You all kick us out?” She nodded to Mom. “We'll do what we can.”

  “I can suppress my family magic,” I said, fear tingling stronger, like a premonition of disaster waiting to happen. “It worked before.” In Europe. Well, kind of worked. With a lot of talking and blustering and people who loved me threatening to blow up part of the Ukraine.

  Mom's blue eyes held, not a scrap of softness in them. “You,” she said, “will stay out of it. And that, Coven Leader Hayle, is a direct order from your Council.”

  Damn her.

  We can handle it, Piers sent.

  He had no idea.

  ***

  Chapter Thirty

  Piers walked me back to the pavilion alone. Shenka was already gone, chasing after Tallah, and Sassafras stayed with Mom. I wondered where Gram and Varity had gotten to, worry spiraling into a normal tornado of “holy crap what now” and “sigh”.

  “I hope you think about what I said earlier,” Piers said as I stopped at the entry.

  Huh?

  Oh, right. The love thing again.

  He bent, kissed my forehead, warm and tingling as his sorcery nuzzled against mine. It was the first time my normally hungry power blossomed and woke without trying to devour everything around it, instead accepting the touch of his magic.

  “We make a great team,” he whispered against my skin. “When you wake up, I'll be waiting.” With that, he strode off into the darkness.

  Guys were always doing that to me, damn it. Kissing me and leaving with some stupid line for me to mull over.

  Jerks.

  The twins fluttered around Demetrius who shoveled food into his face like he hadn't eaten for a week. I gaped at him a moment before rushing forward and falling into the chair beside him.

  In a swirling mass, the wild magicks descended, settling on me once again, though they seemed to have recovered from their excessive grieving.