by Jayne Faith
There was a gasp. “Ella, what happened?” Deb asked.
I cleared my throat. “Uh, nothing. Why?”
She snorted. “Because you sound like someone punched you in the throat. Also, I’m an empath, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” I said tiredly.
“Are you okay?”
“Uhhh.” I lifted a hand and shrugged one shoulder, as if she could see me. “Relative to what?”
“Ella.”
“I had a little run-in with Damien.”
She gasped again. “Oh, no. Did he have Evan?”
“Yeah, but they got away while I was uncon—um, yeah, they escaped,” I said, silently berating myself. I didn’t want to upset Deb. She had more than enough on her mind already, and she didn’t need to be worrying about me getting beat up and knocked out with mage magic.
“Where are you?”
“San Francisco.”
She sighed. “I’m so sorry they got away, Ella.”
I closed my eyes and ran my hand down my face, and instantly regretted touching the bruises.
“I’ll keep after him,” I said. “Is everything okay there?”
“Um, yeah, I’m fine. I was just trying to figure out where you were.”
“Oh, shit, the coven meeting,” I said. I nearly smacked my forehead but stopped myself just in time.
“Sorry. I know it seems trivial compared to everything else.”
“Nah, I’ll be home in ten minutes. Wait for me?”
“Of course,” she said. She gave a little laugh. “I still can’t wrap my mind around you jumping from place to place the way you do through the in-between. You could travel the world for free!”
“Ha, maybe someday,” I said. “See you soon.”
“Okay, see you soon.”
We hung up, and I went to the bathroom and stripped off my rumpled, bloodied clothes. I didn’t have time to wash them or buy new ones, but I could at least get the blood out of my hair and off my face, so I’d look slightly less like a horror movie victim when I arrived home. Deb wasn’t squeamish, but nobody wanted to see their best friend covered in their own blood.
As hot water cascaded down my beat-up body, the emotions I’d been keeping in check flooded through me. Frustration and anger were enough to keep tears in check, but my gut wrenched every time I recalled my brother’s vacant face.
When was the last time Evan laughed or did something he actually enjoyed? Certainly not while he’d been trapped in the vampire feeder den. Even before he’d disappeared, he was already in trouble. I still held onto hope that someday he’d have a real life, normal days where he woke up coherent and spent his time on something productive, something he was actually engaged and interested in. It was hard to imagine, though. He’d been used for so many years, and if Damien’s family and the other powerful mages got their hands on Evan, they’d sacrifice him to close the interdimensional rips that had been unleashing chaos on our world for decades.
I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to block out the hurt. It compacted, sinking into my gut and hanging there like a lead baseball.
I turned off the shower, quickly dried off and mopped as much water out of my hair as I could, and then got dressed. I plugged the sink and turned on the water, twisting my damp hair up into a bun while I waited for the basin to fill.
There was only one option left: beg Phillip Zarella to help me find Evan. I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I didn’t want the madman’s help, and definitely didn’t want to contemplate what he’d want in return, but Zarella and his connections were my only chance. A shiver crept over my scalp and down my neck as I contemplated using an army of zombies, demons, and who knew what else to save my brother.
The sink nearly full, I shut off the flow of water. Tuning into the faint, ever-present tug of the in-between, I faded into the land of gray and mist. Loki followed, and I used the water to take us to the dish of water my neighbor left out next to the dish of food for stray cats on her porch.
I went to my own door and stood there for a moment as tiny dots of white fell from the sky, a barely-there dusting of snow. The lights were on inside, and I knew Deb was waiting for me, but suddenly I felt so heavy I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to force my legs to carry me forward.
Loki nudged my hand, as if knowing I needed a little encouragement.
I forced my feet to move. “Glad to be home, boy?”
The hellhound-doodle gave a little yip.
“Yeah, me too,” I whispered.
Deb opened the door before I could reach for the knob.
She let out a little shriek. “Ella! Your aura looks like hell, and your face—oh my god, your poor face.” She started to reach up to touch my temple but then pulled her hand back.
“I know, I know,” I said. My insides warmed at her concern, even though I didn’t want her to get upset. “I’ll be fine.”
I closed the door behind me. When I turned around, she was standing with her hands on her hips and an accusing look pinching her face.
“You used death magic,” she said. “A lot of it.”
“I had to. And for a second, I actually had the upper hand against Damien. Or maybe I just thought I did. I don’t even know at this point.” I smoothed my hands over my head, pushing back stray tendrils of hair and trying to recall that moment when I was sure I’d seen fear in his eyes as death magic streamed into him, attacking his soul. Or had I just wanted to see vulnerability so badly I’d misinterpreted it?
“How bad?” Deb demanded.
“My head is pounding, but I’m okay,” I said. “I can wait until after the meeting to get healed.”
She peered at me for a moment. “The minute we’re done, you go straight to Gina,” she said, relenting.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How did he look? Evan?” She’d gone to get her purse from the table next to the sofa but stilled, watching me as she waited for my response.
I sighed. “Not great, but not terrible, I guess. Damien claimed he was getting Evan clean. There were syringes and stuff next to the bed.”
Deb turned to me, her face softening into a mix of sadness and concern. I had to look away as a lump rose in my throat.
“You’re going to get him back,” she said firmly. “I’m sure of it.”
I pulled my lips in and bit down, unable to respond.
“You sure you’re okay to go?” she asked.
I cleared my throat and nodded. “Yeah, let’s get on with it.”
I’d almost said let’s get it over with, but I caught myself just in time. Deb was still under the influence of Lynnette’s charisma and promises of financial security, and even though I didn’t trust the coven leader with a bucket of dead rats, let alone my best friend’s future, criticizing Lynnette in the past had only driven a wedge between me and Deb.
Deb and I went out to my old pickup, and I got behind the wheel. I waited until she had her safety belt on, the lap part tucked under her growing belly, before pulling away from the curb.
“Guess what?” Deb asked, her voice an odd mix of subtle emotions I couldn’t quite read.
“What?”
“The divorce will be final by the end of next week, unless Keith decides to put up a fuss about something.”
“Hallelujah!” I crowed and then quickly glanced at her. “I mean, that’s good, right?”
She nodded and blew out a long breath. “Yeah, it’s time. I’m ready.”
“What’s going to happen after the baby comes?” I asked. “Is Keith going to try to be involved?”
“Our agreement says I’ll have full custody,” she said. “It helped a lot that he’s currently jobless and his employment record is pretty crappy.”
“That’s such a relief,” I said, truly glad that she would have full legal control.
“If he wants to be part of his child’s life, he’s going to have to make an effort,” Deb said, turning solemn. “And we both know what he’s like when it comes to committing to something.”
I couldn’t quite tell whether she was hoping her soon-to-be-ex would or wouldn’t make an attempt to be a father to the baby.
“Well, one thing’s for sure,” I said, steering onto the street that would take us away from the heart of downtown and up to Lynnette’s neighborhood. “You’re going to be an amazing mom. The best.”
Deb reached over and patted my arm. “And you’re going to be an awesome auntie. And godmother.”
My eyes widened, and I flicked a look at her before returning my attention to the road. “What?”
She gave a shrug and a little smile. “Who else would I pick? You’re my family. You always have been.”
“Aw, Deb, you’re going to make me cry,” I said, for once sincere about my emotions. I blinked back tears for, what, the third time that day?
Then it occurred to me that Deb could have chosen Lynnette as the baby’s godmother. In covens it was common practice to do such a thing. That sobered me up.
We talked about the baby, and Deb chattered happily all the way to Lynnette’s. But my mind was already jumping ahead to the coven meeting, trying to guess the possible manipulations the coven leader would have in store for us this week.
Chapter 8
LYNNETTE LEBLANC LIVED in a large house built primarily in the Victorian style with a few modern touches. By my standards, it was a mansion, especially considering she lived there alone. I couldn’t help questioning whether she could still afford the mortgage, considering the recent hit to her income. She’d pissed off a dragon oracle that lived in a different dimension by trying to steal some of the dragon’s magic. As penance, she’d lost her talent of exorcism, a service that had been in high demand and for which she’d charged large sums.
In fact, her exorcist services had been so unique it had been the foundation of the coven when the group first formed. She’d commanded extravagant fees that had allowed her to fund the start of the coven.
As I parked the truck along the curb in front of the hedge that marked the line between Lynnette’s yard and her neighbors, I wondered if any of the other witches in the coven had considered how truly negatively Lynnette’s recent actions had affected the group. Before I was coerced into joining, the coven had actually been complete in its membership. But Lynnette’s dabblings with rip magic had indirectly led to the death of Amanda, one of the original members. I’d filled the opening. Since then, Lynnette had created more trouble, but she was cunning in how she dealt with the other women, and they never seemed to hold her accountable for her transgressions. Her charisma and ability to seek out and exploit the thing each witch most wanted in life helped fuel the intense loyalty that already existed in the coven.
This was one of the reasons part of me hoped things would eventually work out between Deb and Detective Lagatuda. It wasn’t that I wanted my best friend to rush into another serious relationship, but Deb’s deep longing for family—even an improvised one—had drawn her to the coven and held her there. If she had an actual family, maybe she wouldn’t be so emotionally reliant on the coven. That was my hope, anyway.
And that was where Lynnette had the upper hand with Deb. I could provide her with friendship and support, but I was only one person. Lynnette offered a tightknit group of women, twelve ready-made sisters who vowed lifelong loyalty to each other.
The others were arriving, too, and a handful of us trooped up the front walk to Lynnette’s door. She opened it and invited us in with a smile. Dressed in her usual black clothes, calf-high Doc Martens, and with heavy eyeliner and her midnight hair twisted into an intricate braid that fell halfway down her back, she was the very picture of goth chic.
Her demeanor cooled slightly when her eyes fell on me. “Hi, Ella,” she said.
I gave her a nod but didn’t try to fake pleasantries. She’d come to my aid more than once recently, and she professed to want to help me, but Lynnette never seemed to do anything unless there was something in it for her.
Since I was more powerful than she was—at least in straight-up magical ability, if not yet in skill—our dynamic had become even more antagonistic. But very little of it was out in the open. It simmered beneath the surface of her serene, maroon-lipsticked smile, and she was way too shrewd to show her true animosity in front of the other women.
Jennifer, a very rare vampire-witch, came forward and grasped one of Deb’s hands, towing her toward the overstuffed crimson velvet chair that was considered the prime seat in Lynnette’s living room.
“What’s up, mama-to-be?” Jen asked. “How’re you feeling?”
The other women milled around Deb as she sat down and updated them on the last doctor visit, which had been a couple of days prior, and I had to admit their interest and concern were very sweet. Aside from being too susceptible to their leader’s manipulations, I had no real objections to any of the women aside from Lynnette. They all seemed like decent people.
“The divorce will be final soon, too,” Deb said.
Lynnette stepped into the group, and the others automatically moved to make space for her.
“We’ll have to celebrate,” she said, beaming at Deb. “This is a big year for you.”
Deb pressed her lips together and then smiled. “Sure is. Lots of changes.”
“We’re here for you, no matter what,” the coven leader said with a little tilt of her head and a pat on Deb’s shoulder.
Deb nodded. “You know I appreciate all of you. This coven means the world to me.”
Lynnette shot me a saccharine smile through the crowd. I ground my teeth as anger spiked like thorns inside me, and my entire head seemed to heat up. I knew my reaction was overblown, but I was spent—magically and emotionally—from the confrontation with Damien and being so close to Evan only to have him slip away again.
And then I saw red. Literally, the world became awash in blood. I inhaled sharply, but no one noticed as their attention was still on Deb.
Oh, shit.
I pressed my fingertips to my temples and squeezed my eyes closed. Was this it? Had I pushed my magic too far? Was I going to keel over onto Lynnette’s luxurious rug, dead of an aneurism?
I braced for agony, ready to call out for help. But the pain didn’t come. Slowly, I opened my eyes and peered around. The world was still red, but I wasn’t dead. In fact, I felt pretty damn good. Except for the odd throbbing in my hands.
I looked down and found my fingers and palms bathed in concentrated clouds of the maroon magic. Tiny sparks lit in it, sending soft shivers along my skin. I turned my hands over, staring at the way it moved with my motion, like fat, pulsating mittens of magic.
“Ella, what the crap is that?” Jen’s alarmed voice drew my eyes up.
All the women were staring at me. I was suddenly acutely aware of their hearts, and their individual pulses seemed to form a little cacophony of faint drumbeats.
“What?” Deb rose from the chair in alarm. “What is it?”
Jen’s brows lifted. “You can’t see it, can you?” she asked Deb.
My best friend shook her head.
“Can any of you see it?” Jen looked around at the women. She returned her gaze to me. “It’s that blood-red magic.”
Her eyes were gleaming in a way that made me a little uncomfortable. Her upper lip twitched, her teeth baring for a moment. Jen was a docile vamp, a victim of the VAMP2 virus, but with a special implant that was required by law. The tiny device calmed her natural bloodlust and allowed her to walk in sunlight unharmed. But something about the maroon-toned magic pulsing around my hands seemed to be affecting her, and I didn’t like it.
On instinct, I sent my focus downward into the ground and pulled earth magic. Green strands of power snaked up and around me. I directed the magic down my arms to my hands, and it snuffed out the blood-red magic.
Jen blinked several times and sucked in a sharp breath through her nose. No one else seemed to notice her brief but strange little episode.
Lynnette folded her arms and thrust out one hip. “Everythi
ng okay over there?” she asked, clearly irritated that she’d lost control of the group’s attention.
I gave her a serene smile. “Just peachy.” I raised a palm in a carry-on gesture, which only seemed to agitate her more.
Everyone shifted around finding places to sit, and Lynnette started talking. My mind was still on the maroon magic. I slid a glance at Jen, thinking about her reaction. I’d seen the magic before. I sometimes left trails of it, and Rogan had as well. I’d thought it an odd sort of footprints-in-the-sand phenomenon of reapers who walked among the living, not as a magic that could be wielded. But as it had pulsed around my hands and sent tiny sparks lighting and dying, I knew it wasn’t just a passive artifact. And I was suddenly just as sure that it had something to do with blood.
I suddenly itched for privacy so I could try to summon it again. There was something darkly alluring about the feel of the crimson magic. Warm and vital, yet dangerous.
Feeling eyes on me, I looked up to meet Lynnette’s gaze. Curiosity flickered in her dark eyes, and I knew she was thinking about the blood-red magic, too, even though she hadn’t been able to see it.
Wait. That was wrong. She had seen it. Lynnette, like me and Jen, was death-touched. I didn’t know the story of how it happened to Lynnette, but her former power of exorcism was proof of it. I would bet my entire payout from the construction site job that she’d seen it but had just kept quiet. As a power-hungry collector of magics, she was probably as eager to see it again as I was. But she’d want to figure out a way to take some of it and keep it for herself. I didn’t understand the methods she used to sample and store magic that wasn’t hers, but I knew she did it.
I narrowed my eyes as her glance slid away from me and skipped across the rest of the women. Perhaps I could find a way to use Lynnette’s desire to my advantage.
“. . . and I’ve saved the best and most important announcement for last,” she was saying. She paused dramatically. “We’ve been granted our coven charter. Our membership is sealed and we’re official!”
