Bound Powers

by Saruuh Kelsey

  “I’ll go.”

  “Right, well I’ll tell Janet—that’s the head of department—to expect you.”

  “How much?” Peregrine’s mouth was pursed.

  “I told you. I had an in. It’s all free of charge.” A slight lie—the school was accepting a ten pound donation but really that was a bargain, the stuff was worth way more than that. “Salma’s like an angel at that school. They miss her already, and I’m sure the art storeroom’s in ruins without her.”

  “Hmph,” was Peregrine’s reply.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong,” Joy said, holding back a grin, “but you were raised with manners. What do you say?”

  Peregrine bared his teeth. Joy beamed, then froze, a bit stunned, when he drew her into another of those lightning-quick, one armed hugs. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

  “You’re very welcome,” Joy said when he drew back.

  “This is the last thing you’re doing for me. And I’m only accepting it because Darvin needs this stuff. No more charity.”

  “Civilised people call it help.”

  He folded his arms over his chest, scowling at the hallway behind her. “Well, no more.”

  Joy shrugged. “No promises.”

  “Ugh.”

  “Here’s an offer—you ask for help when you need it, and I’ll stop forcing help on you. But you have to actually admit you need something and ask for it. Otherwise, I’m gonna keep heaping charity on you.”

  “Fine.”

  Joy raised her eyebrows, waited.

  “Thank you, most generous Joy Daffodil Mackenzie.”

  Joy narrowed her eyes. “I didn’t tell you my middle name.”

  He shrugged, smirking and more at ease. “I phoned Gabi yesterday and ended up talking to a guy who knew an awful lot about you. He didn’t hesitate to tell me all your embarrassing secrets.”

  Joy sighed. “Dammit, Augustus.”

  “So I have a whole wealth of things to use against you.” Peregrine looked really happy with himself.

  “You forget,” Joy said sweetly, “that my girlfriend has known you for years, through all your embarrassing teenage years, all your secret obsessions, every boyband you might have loved.”

  Peregrine glared. “Well played, Mackenzie.”

  As he started down the path to the gate where his brother waited, Joy crooned the chorus of Flying Without Wings.

  Pride

  Gabi spent a frustrating amount of time the next morning on the phone to Paulina, trying in vain to convince her to approve a visit to Glasgow to view the latest body with the mark—brand. If she was going anywhere, it wasn’t with the head witch’s funding. In other words Gabi would have to pay for petrol and any hotels and food out of her own pocket. Her empty pocket. She groaned when the phone line clicked, indicating a phone put down, and rubbed her eyes.

  She wanted approval to go to Ireland to view the woman from the TV too, but that not only required permission and funding but an exhumation order because there were no photos of the brand. Not to mention cooperation from local police, who had yet to reply to her emails. Which wasn’t entirely unexpected—people looked down on private investigators like Gabi, even though she was certified, followed the same procedure they did, and had likely gone through the same training. It was just one of those things Gabi had to accept and ignore unless she wanted to get really pissed off and start yelling down the phone.

  But at least Paulina had approved her to look into this more thoroughly, and she’d try to smooth any relationships between Gabi and local police. For now, though, Gabi would start at home, which meant investigating Mrs. Mackenzie.

  She had to tell Joy before she began that.

  A coward through and through, Gabi jogged down the stairs, skirted Gus and Eilidh at the kitchen table—Gabi kept acquiring witches; they appeared without warning—and grabbed her phone.

  “Dad?”

  “Kissing,” he answered. “In broad daylight.” He tutted. “Do you know, I got three phone calls this morning about that public display of affection.”

  “Dad.”

  All annoyance was wiped from his voice, leaving warmth and familiarity. “I’m happy for you. I mean it, Gabi. I’m glad you have someone. And I’m especially glad it’s Joy, you know I’ve always loved her.” It was true, he had.

  Gabi shifted on her feet, edging into the interview room and closing the door. “Right. Well I need your help.”

  “I’d expect nothing less. You’re a very rude girl, Gabriella, you never call for anything else.”

  “Shut up.”

  He laughed, rich and fond. “Alright, what is it? Is this something to do with that Glasgow cop and the brand?” Gabi hadn’t had the energy to explain everything last night.

  Now, she launched into it all—the woman on the news, the trail of similar deaths, too alike to ignore, her process from suspicion to certainty. Joy’s mum’s link to it.

  “Oh, boy,” he said when she was done, which about summed it up.

  “I wondered if you knew anyone who could tell me about the symbol. I don’t know what it represents, but someone in this town should.”

  “Depends what kind of symbol it is. I only vaguely saw it. Does it look arcane?”

  “Fairly arcane. By the way, I rearranged the box room.” She tacked this quickly on the end in the hopes he wouldn’t dwell on it. Her dad, notorious for refusing to tidy a room because the mess had order, who wouldn’t be parted with pens that had stopped working because they had sentimental value.

  “You did what—”

  “Who do I talk to about arcane symbols?”

  “We’re talking more about this later. Come round for tea.”

  “But I have a flatmate now. It’d be rude to leave him.”

  “Bring him too.”

  “Also his sister. Who’s a fox.”

  “Does she like fish and chips?”

  “Probably.”

  “Great, she’s welcome, too. You want to talk to Neil Ivers; he’s mad about anything arcane. Obsessed with it. I heard he has a whole room full of books on the occult.”

  That made sense, him being an arcane witch whose witchcraft was linked to death. “Thanks, dad.”

  “Seven o’clock!”

  “Yep.” Gabi thumbed the end button. She had an uncanny feeling, like the world and all its events were circular, like she would always be brought back to what was important. Apparently Neil Ivers was important right now. People weren’t brought back into her life by chance—she didn’t buy any of that. She had a gut feeling he was part of this collaboration between Gabi and Gus and Joy’s coven. Maybe she was reading too much into her split-second feeling, but she’d have sworn he was meant to be doing this with them.

  Gabi slammed her car door behind her and pressed the lock on her keys, unsure how helpful Neil Ivers would be. She’d brought copies of every close up mark she’d been able to get—only three, since the mark had been fairly small and easy to overlook by a medical examiner, or easy to dismiss. Gabi wouldn’t have noticed it if she hadn’t seen the same mark on Joy’s mum.

  Her dad said Neil was obsessed with this kind of stuff, but there was no way of knowing the brand was in fact this kind of stuff. It could be anything. But she still walked up the short drive and knocked on the door with her knuckles because it was worth a shot. Gabi needed all the help she could get with this.

  “What?” an unfriendly female voice snarled as the door was flung open—

  “Jesus,” Gabi said, choking on a laugh.

  Victoriya Stone had opened the door butt naked. Not a shred of clothing on her, not even underwear. She stood there, proud and unselfconscious and snarling.

  “I need to see Neil,” Gabi said when she’d recovered from the shock. “I have something I need his opinion on.”

  “Ugh,” Victoriya said, the sound mostly in the back of her throat. She moved back a step, allowing Gabi inside, and shut the door hard enough to rattle the house.

  Neil Iver
s appeared then, hurrying down the stairs, his trousers wrinkled, his hair in disarray, and his shirt unfastened at the top. He was hastily working on the top buttons, his cheeks red.

  “There’s a Pride here for you,” Victoriya said with distaste.

  His eyes fastened on Gabi’s golden ID pins instead of meeting her gaze. “Yes, I—I see that. Hello, Gabriella.”

  “Hello, Neil ,” Gabi replied, trying to smother her smile. “Would you mind looking at these photos? My dad says you have an interest in symbols and ‘the arcane’.”

  “That—well, yes, I do. Victoria? Clothes?”

  Victoriya smirked, her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry. This has no effect on Pride. She’s dating Joy.”

  “Oh?” Neil’s awkwardness fled for a moment, a smile breaking across his face. “I’d heard that, but most of the gossip I hear is ... well, gossip. I’m glad this time it’s true.”

  Gabi nodded, annoyed that her face was heating. “This is important.” She waved the envelope she’d put the photos in. “Would you mind?”

  “Oh, well, not at all.” He took the packet and lowered his rumpled head to stare at the photos.

  Victoriya sighed. “You have the worst timing, Pride.” She turned and stormed upstairs, her hair swishing across her back. Gabi quickly averted her eyes. She’d seen more than she ever wanted to, and more besides. Victoriya reappeared a minute later in skin-tight jeans and a loose vest with a band logo. Cut low on the sides, the band of her bra was visible but Gabi was glad for the clothes.

  “I’ve never seen this before,” Neil proclaimed after a while. He rubbed his face and went to push up glasses he’d forgotten to put on. “This mark. Could I keep these? I want to go through my books.”

  Gabi shrugged, indicating he could. “You’re sure you’ve never seen it before? I think it might be a brand.”

  He looked alarmed but took another glance at the photos. “It reminds me of enough symbols to make me think it has some magical use, or some connection to our community, but no, I’ve never seen this exact one.”

  “I’m going,” Victoriya said, stuffing her feet into combat boots. She leaned up and grabbed Neil’s face, kissing him hard and fierce enough that he dropped the photos to hold her waist. Gabi looked at the paintings on the wall—cheap, mass produced, but pretty seascapes—until they were done. When she looked back, Neil’s hair was even more messy, his face stained pink, and he looked breathless and awed. She expected Victoriya to look smug and preening but there was a soft look on her face Gabi had never seen before. She looked more like a girl and less like an animal that could tear you to ribbons. She whispered something in Neil’s ear that made him blush profusely as he kissed her again, quick this time, thank God—Gabi already felt like an intruder, she didn’t want to stand through that again.

  “I’ll text you later,” Victoriya said, her face back to its normal partly-bored, partly-confrontational expression. “Pride—can I have a word with you outside for a minute?”

  Gabi blinked but said, “Okay.”

  When Victoriya shut the door behind them, leaving Neil inside, Gabi’s insides churned. She felt a jolt of nerves as she met Victoriya’s dark eyes and saw not baleful laziness but sharp intent. “I planned to come around yours later and have this conversation then, but since you’re here now, I might as well.” She moved before Gabi, even with all her training, could palm the knife at her belt. The sharp end of a wooden wand jammed into Gabi’s throat. “You hurt Joy, in any way, intentional or otherwise, and I will break into your house in the dead of night, put you under a sleeping spell, and carve you up until your insides are on the outside.”

  Her face was hard, deadly serious, but she warmed in Gabi’s estimation because this show of aggression and violence was to protect Joy. Gabi would have done the same. “I won’t,” she vowed.

  “I’d like your word,” Victoriya added, pushing the wand harder into Gabi’s neck, her smile as sharp as acid.

  “You have my word,” Gabi said, her neck beginning to ache and shoot pain through her. “I swear it.” And as an elf, her word meant more than anyone else’s—it was literally impossible for her to break it, go back on it, when it was given. And Victoriya knew that, clearly.

  “Good.” The wand disappeared into whatever sheath it had come from and so did Victoriya’s violence. She looked … neutral. “I actually don’t mind you, Pride, and I like that you can look after yourself. You’ll look after Joy too.” She nodded. “I’m glad you’re back together. Mostly so I can stop wanting to punch you both every time you do the lingering glance bullshit.” Her lips curled into a cool smile, but there was something genuine in it too.

  “Thanks?” Gabi couldn’t be sure but there sounded like a real compliment in there.

  Victoriya nodded, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Here’s another thing. Don’t think about drawing Neil into some dangerous investigation. I don’t want his life threatened again. If he gets hurt because of this—”

  “Insides on the outside,” Gabi interrupted. “Got it.”

  Victoriya laughed.

  “I’ll keep him out of it as much as I can. But I need his help on this.”

  “What exactly is this?”

  When Gabi hesitated, Victoriya’s eyes narrowed. “Something I can’t tell you about yet,” she said with a sinking feeling, “because I have to tell Joy first.”

  Victoriya did not look pleased. “Is there a reason you haven’t already told her?”

  Gods, so many. The door opened behind them, saving her from answering.

  “You forgot your phone,” Neil said, looking more put together as he held said phone out to Victoriya. She snatched it and took it as an invitation to start making out with him again.

  “Call me if you find anything, Neil,” Gabi said, walking to her car. When she drove off, Victoriya and Neil were still kissing. Gabi shook her head, laughing under her breath, but she was glad they had each other. If these deaths and their link to Joy were any indication, Gabi’s life and the lives of Joy and her coven would never be simple or easy or safe.

  Halfway up the road, Gabi backed into someone’s open driveway and changed direction, heading down the beach. She parked in the small square of a car park and before she could back out, trudged across the beach to the nature reserve. Joy needed to know, and Gabi needed to eliminate this secret between them.

  Her heart already racing with nerves and dread, Gabi took a long breath before she reached for the handle and pushed open the door. Joy’s expression of surprise and happiness damn near killed her.

  Joy

  Joy was bored, and Google had never heard of a queen named Ignatia—at least not one who was secretly fae—so Joy sat behind the desk-slash-till-area in the nature reserve’s main room, staring into space. The sun was high but Joy shivered and cranked the heater higher, burrowing into her giant jumper and—

  Gabi?

  It was Gabi. She pushed open the door and, shivering, shut it behind her.

  “I didn’t expect to see you today,” Joy said, smiling and feeling fluttery. She slid off the stool behind the counter, leaving the circle of blessed heat to hug Gabi. That fluttery feeling died as Gabi hugged her tighter than normal; Joy peered up at her and froze at the flat pain in her eyes. “What?” She hugged Gabi closer. “What’s happened?” Thought of Perchta’s puppeteer rushed through her. She knew it was just a delusion, knew he wasn’t real, but she couldn’t shake the fear. Couldn’t erase the idea of a man pulling Perchta’s strings. Did Gabi know?

  “You asked me what I’ve been working on.” Gabi’s voice was … strange. Taut and strained and nearly breaking. Joy scanned her face, reaching up to cup her cheek; Gabi’s eyes fluttered shut. “It’s about your mum, Joy. About her death.”

  Oh.

  “What?” Joy’s hand slid to her side. She struggled to process, to figure out how those words had come out of Gabi’s mouth, how they had anything to do with Gabi, and work, and the present. Joy’s mum’s death was
a tight hurt that had yet to leave her but it was in the past. Joy didn’t like the way Gabi had brought it into the current. She took a step back and then retreated to her stool by the table, chilled. “What?” she repeated.

  “Joy.” Gabi held up her hands; Joy wanted to laugh. Gabi looked like Joy was aiming a gun at her, prepared to shoot. She looked fearful, agonised. Joy shook her head. Whatever it was, she didn’t need to hear it. She grabbed her scarf from the table and wound it around her neck like armour.

  “No.” It came out strangled. “Gabi, please don’t.”

  “You need to know.”

  “I don’t—I don’t want to know anything.”

  “She wasn’t the only woman who died in her sleep.”

  Joy’s hands shook. “I know. It happens all the time. I never said it was just her, I don’t understand why we’re even talking about this.” Her eyes burned, stung, her throat closed up and swallowed the rest of what she wanted to say.

  “She had a mark on her neck, did you see it?”

  Joy shut her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about this.” That pain, always dormant, always ready to spring up and consume her whenever she was hit by a memory of her mum—that pain was all she was made of now. It had not only consumed her but erased everything she had been before it.

  The next thing she knew, bony arms had wound tight around her, Gabi hot against her back, and a keening sound was coming from her own mouth, stretching past her swollen throat.

  “I’ll stop,” Gabi said. “I’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

  They stayed like that, so long that Joy couldn’t keep track of the time. There was a hole inside her and she could feel nothing else. Not her shaking hands, not her numb face and tight throat. Just that pulsing black hole where her heart had been. It was a relief that no one came to the nature reserve, either out of curiosity, good will, or just habit from those who came by weekly. Joy couldn’t have dealt with them. Joy couldn’t deal with anything ever again. She wanted to turn and bury her face in Gabi’s coat, clutch her so close she could never leave, but Gabi had made her feel this way. Joy didn’t know what to feel. But she did know who she wanted.