Enspelled

by Samantha Stone

  “Yes,” Cael and Aiyanna called from the foyer.

  Sebastian hesitated. He hated leaving Briony like this, but something had to be done about the warlocks who’d gagged her.

  Later, he would figure out why her dreams scared her so much she cried as she whimpered for mercy. They had time.

  “Yeah, let’s—”

  “Wait!” Briony came stumbling into the kitchen, her hair a halo of tangled curls over her shoulders. She was flushed, and streaks from her tears still lined her cheeks. “Take these with you.”

  She took Sebastian’s hand and dropped two keys in his palm. “These are for Aiyanna and Cael,” she said, handing a third key to Harry. “This one’s for you.” Briony withdrew a silver thimble from her pocket and pressed it into his hand.

  “Promise me you’ll keep this on you.”

  Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “Worried about me?” This woman is the queen of mixed signals.

  She looked away. “I’m petrified,” she whispered.

  Behind them, Harry cleared his throat. Somehow in the time he’d been speaking with Briony, the other witch managed to make himself an impressive sandwich, the crumbs from his muffin still on his hands.

  “Go, just keep your talismans.” She pulled Harry into a hug before facing Sebastian again. To his surprise, she wrapped him in a fierce embrace. “You stay safe, and if they’re too powerful, get out.”

  Sebastian nodded, his cheek rubbing against her temple.

  He had to drag himself away from Briony, his protective instincts screaming with protest every step he took. All of his cells roared, and he knew it had nothing to do with his desire to mate with her.

  Briony was in danger, with no feasible way to defend herself.

  Outside, the wind cut through his clothes, freezing him to his core. Cold rain poured, causing Cael, Aiyanna, Harry, and him to run the half-block to his car. Once they were piled in, Sebastian held his hand out to the control panel across the dashboard, cranking up the energy powering the heat until they all began to thaw.

  Holding up a hand to keep everyone silent, took his phone from his pocket and dialed Sophia. She picked up on the first ring.

  “Calling in reinforcements already?” she asked teasingly, despite the deadly serious note her voice held.

  “Basically. I need you to keep an eye on Briony for me—I think she’s in some kind of trouble.”

  “What, did she do something to piss off Cael again?”

  In the backseat, Cael laughed dryly.

  “Not this time. Watch her for me?”

  “Will do, brother.”

  Sebastian hung up, feeling slightly better. If he could trust anyone to keep Briony safe, it was Sophia.

  “Where are we going, Harry?” he asked.

  “Audubon Place.”

  Despite his raised eyebrows, Sebastian didn’t comment. Audubon Place was likely the wealthiest street in the city. Shrouded in mystery, gated, and guarded, it was rumored to have been protected by military forces during Hurricane Katrina, discouraging looters from darkening the vast mansions’ doorsteps.

  “They live where?” Aiyanna shrieked.

  In the corner of Sebastian’s vision, Harry’s hair turned white for a split second before it went back to its usual dark blue.

  “The better question is how the hell do we get in?” Sebastian could pick a lock in a pinch, but had never found a reason to investigate elaborate security systems like the ones in place in Audubon Place. “I don’t know if I can get through their human security measures, and the ones they’ve put in place with magic…”

  He trailed off, imagining the four of them cut up into impossibly small cubes.

  It would have been nice to know we were dealing with not only powerful warlocks, but wealthy, resourceful ones, too.

  He couldn’t blame Briony—she’d been gagged. The notion of her choking again had him pressing down on the gas, uncaring of whether he’d have to drive his precious car straight through the gates to reach the men who strangled the woman meant to be his mate.

  “I can get us onto the street, but once we reach the house I can give no promises.” Harry’s hair was leeching of color again, slowly this time.

  “They’re witches. You’re really scared of a man who spends his days cooking bits of plants?”

  Before Sebastian could correct Cael, Harry whipped around in his seat to face the were. Sebastian didn’t have to see his hair to know he was furious.

  “Briony plays with plants because that’s almost all she can do since these warlocks, not witches, took away a good portion of her powers. The nice witches are ten times more threatening than she is, and warlocks are in a league of their own. They’re our boogeymen, told of to children at their bedtimes to instill the correct level of fear in us. Because unlike most variations of the boogeyman, warlocks are real, and all witches have a terrifying likelihood of being murdered by one.”

  As Sebastian pulled onto St. Charles, Aiyanna whistled low. “So, how does your foot taste, Cael?” she asked sweetly.

  He growled in response, but clasped Harry on the shoulder in a bracing motion, about the closest the witch would get in way of apology.

  In a line of enormous homes, Audubon Place rose above them, the name of the street displayed on the curved top of a wrought-iron gate over the street’s entrance. Trusting Harry, Sebastian drove up to the gatehouse.

  Without a word, the guard waved them in, scribbling something onto his clipboard. He didn’t give them a second glance. Sebastian looked at Harry, about to ask how the guard knew him, but Harry no longer appeared as himself.

  An older man with a big smile and white hair occupied the passenger seat. Sebastian thought he recognized him, but couldn’t pinpoint who the man was.

  “Good evening, students. Today is the day you become a member of the Tulane community, an honor you will keep for the rest of your life.” Harry finished his spot-on impersonation by humming the university’s fight song.

  If not for the man’s shit-eating grin, Sebastian would have thought he was sitting next to the president of Tulane University, whose mansion sat at the end of Audubon Place facing St. Charles.

  “I went to LSU,” Aiyanna said in a bored voice.

  “Yeah, well their president doesn’t live here, does he?”

  The shapeshifter sniffed haughtily, but kept quiet.

  “See that house there, with the turret? That’s it.”

  Sebastian drove past the mansion until he saw a cobblestone guest parking lot off of a white home with a wraparound porch. There were no cars in the home’s expansive driveway, so he judged the small lot off the road as a safe place to park.

  “Wish couldn’t get in there,” Cael murmured as they stepped out of the car. He pointed to the blue roof over the porch, wrapping around the house protectively. The homeowners likely didn’t realize just how effective Haint Blue paint was. Their friend Wish was a haint, and the paint had kept him from his daughter for the first four years of her life.

  “Describe Radburn for us, Harry,” Aiyanna suggested.

  “You’ll recognize him—he’s the only one with orange hair. They all have tattoos covering most of their bodies, but look out for his hair. He shaves it close because it’s so easily recognizable, but he’s never been able to shave all of it off.”

  If he’s wearing a hat, we’re in trouble.

  “So what’s the plan, boss?” Harry, like Cael and Aiyanna, watched Sebastian expectantly.

  The truth was Sebastian never did anything without a plan…until now. After what this man had done to Briony, he hadn’t been able to help himself from running off to take the warlock out.

  We’re flying blind. It was an acutely uncomfortable feeling.

  Sophia and Heath both loved to charge into a situation head-on, with no thoughts of looking back. It was the opposite of Sebastian’s preferred method, which was observe, find weaknesses, and exploit them when the enemy�
�s guard was down.

  Sophia and Heath aren’t here.

  They’d have to wing it.

  “Aiyanna, you and Cael go around back. Try not to be seen—we don’t want to kill every—”

  “We’re killing everyone,” Harry interrupted, his voice laced with steel. “They’re all murderers. They all deserve to die.”

  For over century, Sebastian had been misjudged as a criminal. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake about the warlocks, even if every one of them did deserve a death sentence. No, he only had one target.

  “Kill in of self-defense only, but incapacitate anyone if you think they’re too dangerous to be loose. And leave Radburn to me.”

  He’d call the witches’ coven, the shapeshifters, and the Fey. Together, they could decide what to do with the warlocks who’ve committed the crimes Harry accused them of.

  Harry cursed, kicking a loose stone on the street, but he didn’t argue.

  “You’re coming with me, kid.” Sebastian took a light pistol from his backpack and handed it to the witch, who shook his head as if he’d been handed a butter knife.

  Sebastian took the keys Briony had given him and held them out to Aiyanna and Cael. “Briony said you need to keep these on you.”

  “What are they?” Cael asked at the same time Aiyanna screwed up her face, holding the key directly in front of her eyes.

  “It looks like an old house key,” she said, sounding confused.

  Shrugging, Sebastian started walking closer to the warlocks’ mansion, which had a large turret at its front, its roof topped with a sharp point. More pointed roofs rose behind it, making the house appear less of a mansion and more of a medieval castle. Sebastian reached into his pocket to feel the thimble he’d been given. It was warm, almost hot against his palm.

  “They won’t be able to help us much,” Harry muttered, frowning. “Talismans are old wives’ tales Briony shouldn’t buy into anymore.” He turned to Cael and Aiyanna, pointedly ignoring Sebastian as he raised his gun in a nonthreatening way. “This won’t kill them unless you hit their head, hands, feet and heart.”

  With that, the witch stalked away, tucking his pistol under his shirt.

  “These assholes are going to be really hard to kill, aren’t they?” Aiyanna whispered.

  Nodding at Cael, Sebastian made to follow Harry as the other were guided Aiyanna toward the back of the house.

  He’d have to accurately shoot Radburn four times in order to kill him. Great.

  Taking out his Beretta, he walked across the front yard as quietly as he could, making a beeline for the corner Harry disappeared around.

  Resting against the house’s western wall was Harry, with a gaping hole blown from his head. The gun in his hand was still warm, as was the blood that spattered the gray stone behind him.

  No.

  Harry wouldn’t have killed himself. He had plans—to finish college, to run a new line of beer at the brewery by himself. He didn’t do this.

  The sound of a slow, cautious breath jarred Sebastian from his shocked grief. A young, mortal witch with a head wound like this didn’t breathe. This was a mortal injury.

  Sebastian wrapped his hand around his now-burning thimble.

  It seared his skin, but the moment the pain set in he could see through the illusion. This wasn’t Harry but a warlock who, like Harry, could take the form of another.

  Sebastian’s fury must have shown, because the man dropped the act and lunged for him. He let go of the thimble and raised the gun, but the man’s eyes went wide when he grabbed a fistful of Sebastian’s shirt.

  Smiling, he backed away until he disappeared into the clean gray wall that had been covered in blood mere moments before.

  What the hell?

  He hadn’t known any creature who could do that.

  And that smirk the man wore when he disappeared—it was the look of someone who knew he could win. It only strengthened Sebastian’s resolve.

  Element of surprise blown, he sent Cael, Aiyanna, and Harry a text to warn them. He found Harry when he opened a side door; the witch was rubbing a strange-smelling oil onto his gun.

  “You need to get Aiyanna and Cael and leave.”

  Harry ignored him, but kept cleaning his gun, wiping it with a cloth until it shone.

  “A warlock just walked through a wall. It’s not safe for you three—find them and leave.”

  Immediately Sebastian knew this was Harry, not an imposter, because the witch leveled the same frustrated stare at him that he’d seen every time an entire batch of beer was ruined due to someone’s carelessness. He stomped away, the noise of his boots against the cement floor making Sebastian cringe.

  Better for Harry, Aiyanna, and Cael to be angry with him than dead.

  He couldn’t keep them here—these warlocks had capabilities beyond what Sebastian had known to be possible.

  So he’d have to resort to his one infallible fallback: start a fire.

  This wing of the mansion was Spartan; the walls and floors were bare, and there was no heat or furniture. Using small bursts of his abilities, he ruptured every light he passed, allowing some to start fires, and leaving others to simply sprinkle glass across the floor.

  When the hallway curved, he started to see prints and paintings hung up, antique tables lining the halls topped with metal containers, some of which were humming. Sebastian felt the side of one of the cylinders and found it too cold to be chilled only from the weather. Before moving on, he made sure all of the small, electric coolers were fried.

  There was no way he was going to look inside; if he found a child-sized heart, he wouldn’t be able to help keep himself from incinerating each and every warlock and enjoying every second of it.

  All of the doors down the next hallway were locked. Sebastian heard growling from within one of them and a strange clicking sound in another. He didn’t stop until he reached a door though which the sounds of hooves came, along with loud splashes of water.

  It could be a horse drinking.

  Only he couldn’t smell hay or feed—only dank, dirty water, as if someone had been living in it for weeks. “Hello?” he called quietly, thankful kelpies had better hearing than warlocks.

  “Fuck off,” came a whispered response.

  A male kelpie was in there. From the sound of his rough voice and the subtle smell underlying the grime, Sebastian knew the other man was sick.

  He didn’t particularly like the ruthless aquatic creatures, but this man didn’t deserve to be caged like an animal. Besides, kelpies were allied with the Fey and because his pack was also allied with them, he was obligated to help any kelpie he came across else he’d run the risk of breaking his clan’s agreement with the faeries.

  Bursting the two nearest overhead light bulbs, Sebastian grew the small flame until it covered the wooden door. Unlike his sister, he didn’t have the ability to completely extinguish the flame, so he made it die down enough for him to step through the doorway before spreading it in a line down the hall.

  The room was dark, with a toilet in one corner and a children’s play pool in another. Plates of untouched, somewhat molding food were stacked neatly in a third corner.

  A naked man sat in the pool, the water so dark it hid his legs and lower torso from view. Long, tangled strands of black hair hung to land in the water. For some reason, most kelpie men kept their hair longer than many women.

  “If you show me where I can find Radburn, I’ll take you with me when I leave.” Surely this man knew more about the layout of this mansion than Sebastian.

  “What’s your name?” The man didn’t look up, but watched the flames sneaking into the room through his hair.

  Sebastian hesitated. For many creatures, giving a name was giving the other creature power. He was willing to help this man, but he had no reason to trust him.

  “We don’t need to exchange names. Do we have a deal or not?”

  The man rose, and as he d
id, his hooved hands turned human. Clothes mimicking Sebastian’s Polo jacket and button-down appeared on his body.

  “I can’t believe it’s cold now,” he murmured, finally facing Sebastian. The man’s face was covered in scars, as was his body. Pieces of tattoos showed on his chest and neck, as if he’d ripped parts of them away.

  “How long have you been here?”

  The man frowned. “It was the middle of the summer when they caught me, when it was almost too hot for me to stay on land.”

  They’d had this kelpie almost six months.

  “Today’s December eighth. Where do I go to find Radburn?” He shrugged off his backpack and took out a small water bottle and a Cliff bar, which he handed to the kelpie. He took them gingerly, but eagerly drank the water and practically inhaled the energy bar once he saw that they were sealed.

  “Thanks,” he murmured, tossing the trash into the flames growing on the far wall. “He’ll be on the top floor, in one of the turrets. They tend to keep away from their living talismans unless they need us, and Radburn is one of the few allowed in the highest floors.”

  Talisman. Harry said they didn’t work, but Briony had given them her talismans. She must know how they work from Radburn.

  The kelpie led them to a stairwell, its entrance indistinguishable from the other locked doors. One flight up, he stopped and pressed into a wall, sparks flying from his fingers. Another doorway appeared, seeming to lead to the yacht club miles away by the lakefront.

  “Let’s go,” the kelpie implored, gesturing for Sebastian to step out.

  “No. We had a deal—you show me Radburn, and I get you out.”

  The kelpie hissed, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “New deal: I get us out of here, and you don’t get killed. They kept me alive for a reason; they’ll have no such compunctions for you, a werewolf storming into their lair and setting shit on fire.”

  Sebastian thought about the warlock who’d released him earlier, and his blood went cold. He should have at least tried to kill me. Instead he’d merely given a sinister smile and disappeared into solid stone.