Wicked Destiny_A Reverse Harem Urban Fantasy Series

by L. C. Hibbett

  “Is that how you know Patrick?” I frowned. “The Guild wants him too.”

  Izzy grinned. “Oh, the Guild doesn’t want Trick—the trouble that guy causes.” She shook her head and smirked. “Trick appeared on the Guild’s radar because he was doing his own private investigation on one of the human families who displayed unexpected gifts. Snow had been tracking the family for years, but Trick beat her to them and the family went underground before the Guild got a chance to study them.”

  “Study them?” My jaw tightened. “What gives the I.G.S. the right to decide a human life can become their science experiment? Gods, what wrong with you people? The world isn’t your damn Petri dish.”

  “That’s pretty much what Trick said when he showed up in Snow’s office in Boston and told her he’d bring the I.G.S. crashing down around her knees if she ever targeted another human for compulsory examination.” Izzy lips curved upward and her dimples flashed. I frowned, unsettled again by the shimmer of a thought tugging at the corner of my mind as her lips moved—there was something so familiar about her smile. “Which is exactly the moment Snow decided even though the Guild doesn’t want Patrick Joyce, they probably really need him.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Let me guess, she feels the same way about me? They don’t really want the witch of death on their team, but they don’t want anybody else getting their claws into her nasty ass either?” Izzy didn’t try to deny it. I gave a hollow laugh. “Well, thanks for not insulting my intelligence by lying. At least I know where I stand.”

  “Look, it’s a shitty deal, Destiny. I get it, believe me, but you can be smart about it.” Izzy leaned closer. “You’ve got all the power in this situation. What do you want to do with your life, Destiny? You want to open a bar? You want to go to med school? Buy a yacht? Whatever you want to do, the Guild will make it happen for you. And they’ll keep you safe—safer than any coven can.” She held her palms out. “Okay, they’ll be giving you whatever you want so they can keep tabs on you, sure, but you think the coven won’t want something from you if they let you join? It sucks, but it’s the way of the world—people always have an agenda. Just make sure you get the best deal for yourself, whatever you chose. The ball’s in your court, Destiny.”

  I stared at Izzy, hearing Aoife’s words on her lips, and suddenly déjà vu sharpened into clarity. “What’s your agenda, Isabelle O’ Neill?” I slid off the packing crate and glared at her. “What are you doing here?” Izzy opened her mouth to answer but I cut across her. “No, really. Why are you here? This is a big case and you’re a newbie agent. Sure, your pack seem competent, but there are hundreds of Irish agents, why bring you guys over? And why were you asking about my mother? She’s been gone fourteen years—nobody asks.”

  Izzy threaded her fingers together. “Destiny, there’s something I need to—”

  “Don’t.” I thrust my finger at her. “Don’t you bloody dare finish that sentence. I am so damn sick of people admitting they have something to tell me. Gods.”

  Izzy took a deep breath. “Destiny, I know Markus told you about the baby. He shared everything with Snow before he let your aunt and her friends do the ritual to severe his fealty to Balor’s clan; he wanted somebody to know in case he needed the rite of fire. In case he didn’t survive.” She spread her fingers. “I was going to tell you. I wanted to wait until the moment was right. I didn’t know how you’d react.”

  “What were you going to tell me, Izzy?” My fingers curled into a fist. “Just say it.”

  Izzy straightened her shoulders and met my stare. “The Guild believes—my father thinks…I’m your sister, Destiny.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut and dug my fingernails into my palms. “How?”

  “Your mother.” Izzy paused. “Our mother was very young—just married to Balor, not finished school yet—but it seems she already knew she’s made a mistake and she feared the worst. She gave birth on the school grounds and begged her cousin and his wife to come and take the baby and hide it. She pretended the baby had died during the labor and that she’d buried it on the grounds.”

  “My father didn’t believe her. He blamed her friend.” I tried to block my imagination from conjuring images to accompany the fact.

  “Yeah, your father closed ranks on the clan after that baby disappeared, expelling all those from outside his bloodline, but he never managed to track down your mother’s cousin or the baby,” Izzy said.

  “You.” I stared at her. “He never found you.”

  Izzy didn’t look away. “Yes.”

  I gave a bitter laugh. “Gods, that’s how the Guild found me, that’s how you set me up—getting Nick to offer me the job because you knew we needed money—they tracked me using your blood. The blood of a full sibling. The only possession my father didn’t have,” I said.

  Izzy lifted her chin. “I didn’t give them permission to track you, Destiny. I didn’t know anything about you, or what I was, until a few months ago. My dad—your mother’s cousin—heard you’d escaped from Balor and he wanted the Guild to make sure you were okay. He gave them a sample of my blood. But he’s not a bad man; he just wanted to make sure you were safe. He loved your mother like a sister. I had no clue about any of this until I discovered I was a super and met the guys—it’s a long story.”

  “And you didn’t tell me the first day we met because…?” I asked.

  “Because I wasn’t sure you’d be able to take the truth.” Izzy met my angry glare and stared back at me. “You’d just found out about Nick, Destiny. Snow thought telling you the truth about our relationship could cause you to lose control of your magic.”

  “And you agreed with her.” I clenched my teeth.

  “No,” Izzy said. “But I didn’t want to kick you when you were down. I know what it feels like to find out the mother you adored lied to you all your life and not have the opportunity to ask her why.” She tucked a stray wave behind her ear. “Listen, Destiny, I’m not going to sit here and pretend I understand what you’ve been through, but I know what it’s like to lose somebody you love, and I know what it’s like to feel like the world is conspiring against you. And I know family comes in all weird shapes and sizes, the pack taught me that. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to try and be your sister. If you want.”

  “What I want is to punch you in the face,” I said. “I want to smack every single person who thinks they’ve got the right to hide pieces of my life from me like I’m a helpless infant who won’t be able to handle the truth.”

  Izzy folded her arms. “Okay…”

  “And I want proof this isn’t a shitty manipulation tactic by the Guild. I want a DNA test.” I held my hand out to stop Izzy responding. “Not by Mac or anyone in the Guild. I’ll find somebody to do an independent test; Aoife has friends in the coven who can help with stuff like that.”

  “And if the results prove I’m telling the truth will you still want to kick my ass?” Izzy asked.

  “You fucking bet I will, but Aoife said some things earlier…” I folded my arms. “I don’t want to drown. I don’t want to lose sight of what’s important. And I’ve kept some pretty shitty secrets too, so I won’t punch you in the face. Or anyone else who knew.” I pinched my lips. “Did Nick know? Did Aoife?”

  Izzy gripped the edge of the crate. “Your aunt knew there was a baby, but she believed it had died. My mom, dad, and the Guild members who bound my magic were the only ones who knew the truth. Aoife doesn’t know who I am yet.” She paused. “But Nick was aware, yes.”

  “Nick—I swear, that asshole.” I glared through the window, searching for a glimpse of the huge tiger shifter.

  “Don’t go too hard on him, Destiny. Nick’s been begging Snow to let him tell you the truth for as long as I’ve been in the Guild. He cares about you,” Izzy said.

  My cheeks flushed and I kept staring through the glass. My gaze landed on Aoife. “You look like Aoife, you know, like she did before the fire ritual.” I gave Izzy a lopsided smile. “People always sa
id Aoife and my mam were like twins born out of step, so I guess you must look her too. I can’t remember her face anymore. Or her voice. Except when I’m dreaming.”

  “I’m sorry, Destiny.” Izzy pressed her lips into a tight line and I nodded. She stood up and, for one horrible moment, I thought she was going to try and hug me, but she didn’t. “You can go to bed if you want; it’s been a long day. I know you need to help Patrick find the children before the new moon but—”

  “I’m not going anywhere until the kids are found, not for the Guild or the coven, but because Patrick thinks I can help.” I shrugged my shoulders and chewed at the corner of my lip.

  Izzy’s dimples deepened as she pushed the case room door open and held it for me. “Welcome to the team.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  The tension in the air was as thick and heavy as a damp towel. Izzy squeezed my shoulder and marched toward Teddy and Blackwood at the opposite end of the case room. Lan, Nick, and Aoife were arranging pieces of paper in an intricate web on the floor. Nick caught my eye as I walked into the room and my stomach jumped at the sight of his disheveled hair and his dark stubble. I took a deep breath and crouched down beside them. “What are you looking for?”

  “Connections.” Nick’s fingers hovered an inch from my knee. “We’re trying to look at the evidence from a different angle, see is there anything at all that might trigger something useful.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and located Patrick at the top of the room. “Patrick hasn’t seen anything else?”

  “Nothing,” Nick said. “He’s taking it really hard. Mac’s been trying to get him to take a break, but he’s adamant we need to find the kids tonight.” He hesitated for a moment. “He thinks the kids are running out of time.”

  “Shit.” I stood up and Nick’s fingertips brushed my thigh, blazing trails of electricity over my skin.

  He stared up at me. “Destiny, can we talk?”

  “Not now,” I snapped. Nick’s face fell and a burst of regret exploded in my gut. Aoife and Lan pretended not to watch us as they laid their paper trail. I lowered my voice. “After we’ve found the kids, Nick, we’ll talk then.”

  Nick nodded. “Okay.” I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my hand, stopping me short. “Just don’t agree to anything yet, with the coven—don’t make any big decisions before we talk. Please?”

  I disentangled my fingers from Nick’s grip and glanced over my shoulder as I moved toward Snow and Blackwood. I wasn’t making any promises I couldn’t keep, even if every ounce of my body ached to run to him and bury my face in his strong chest. To feel his arms surround me. To feel his fingers on my skin. I shoved my hands into my pockets and forced myself back to reality.

  “We’ve been through it a million times, Trick. There’s nothing there—nothing that ties these kids together.” Blackwood’s frustration was evident but his eyes were compassionate as he returned Patrick’s glare.

  Patrick threw himself down on a chair and rested his elbows on his knees. “Go through it again. I need something to break this goddamn block in my mind.” He smacked the heel of his hand against his temple and eye-balled Blackwood and Snow. “Say it again.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Markus examining the wall of evidence. I perched on the edge of the chair beside Patrick and he turned his blue eyes on me for a fleeting moment. I reached for his hand, holding it between both of mine as Snow began to recite the list of evidence again. Her voice was worn. “Various times of day, various locations, various supernatural species, children of various ages but none beyond puberty. There’s never a sign of a break in. Some parents report being in the room with the child when they disappear but not seeing an intruder.”

  “Time thieves,” I murmured. Snow raised her eyebrows and Patrick squinted at me. “The gold witch who was here earlier said there was an old Welsh coven that could manipulate time. It was just a story.”

  Blackwood frowned. “Fairy tales have no place in an investigation.”

  “Actually, there seems to be some truth in the myth,” Mac grimaced. “Izzy and I did a little research after I spoke with David, the Welsh gold witch, and records show there was an ancient coven, descended from one of the Welsh gods, who practiced an archaic form of magic capable of manipulating time.”

  “Purple magic,” I breathed.

  Mac nodded. “Yes. Most of the records predate written folklore, but the general consensus seems to be that a purple witch could freeze time and perhaps even reverse it to some degree. Unfortunately, their gift was a poisoned chalice. The purple witches became highly prized for their abilities, encouraged and coerced to work as thieves and assassins for their god. Eventually, the other gods rose up against the purple witches and their clans hunted them into extinction. There’s a report in the Guild archives which claims the last known members of the clan were brutally murdered in the latter half of the last century and there’s no trace of them since.”

  “Was the gold witch’s mother was right?” I asked Mac. “Did they throw them over the cliffs? Babes and all?”

  Mac grimaced. “Yeah. Seems they did.”

  “Gods, what’s wrong with people?” I shook my head.

  Snow glared from Mac to me. “Well, thank you for the interlude but we’ll continue assimilating the data now, shall we?”

  “Why bother?” Patrick’s fingers ripped at his hair. “It’s all just a jumble of random facts. I was certain there had to be something linking the children.”

  “There is.” Everyone in the room turned to stare at Markus. I frowned as he shrugged his shoulders and buried his hands in his pockets. “It’s probably nothing, but there is a common feature.” We all stared at him in silence until Snow snapped her fingers and gestured for him to enlighten us. “They’re all children of the moon.”

  “What?” Blackwood glared at Markus, but Patrick was already on his feet and running from poster to poster, frantically tapping on the screen of his cell phone.

  “Children of the moon; it means they were born during the first night of a new moon.” Patrick waved his hand at Blackwood. “There are online calculators to determine the lunar position on past dates. Check the other children’s details to see if he’s right.”

  “He’s right.” I pushed my hair off my face, not meeting Markus’ stare. “Mark’s always right about stupid shit like that. He has a weird photographic memory thingy.” I chewed on my thumbnail. “Why does it matter?”

  Izzy started confirming dates on her phone, her fingers moving at lightning speed. “Because it’s something that ties them together.”

  Aoife walked up from the back of the room and wrapped her arms around her waist. “My mother used to tell a story about the children born on the new moon.” She screwed her eyes shut. “Something about them being the lost babes.”

  “Stolen,” Patrick whispered. He leaned his back against the wall. “I was born on a new moon and my foster mother used to tell me stories of children like me being stolen and fed to the god below the sea to feed his power to grant immortality to those of his bloodline.”

  “That’s it,” Aoife said. “Sacrifice thirty babes of the moon to Arawn and he’ll grant you eternal life.”

  Izzy shuddered. “What a gruesome story to tell a child. Although, my grandmother liked to terrify us with stories about the banshee wailing when death was ready to visit a home. Crying like a fox in the darkness.”

  “What did you say?” Patrick gaped at Izzy.

  She drew her brows together. “About the banshee crying when death was close? My grandma used to tell us about when we were kids. Not that we had any idea banshees really existed, we thought it was just another crazy story from the old country.” Izzy tucked her hands into her pocket. “I nearly passed out when the head of security at the Guild academy told me she was a banshee. She looks nothing like I’d imagined as a kid—she’s got great hair and a serious rack—but that shriek.” Izzy grimaced. “It’s like a thousand cats being strangled.”

>   I stared at Patrick and he shook his head, reading my mind. “No, Destiny. There’s no banshee in the coven, right?” He stared at Aoife. “We’d know if there was a banshee in the Silent Quarter.”

  “A banshee in the coven? I don’t think so, pet.” Aoife frowned. “Doesn’t mean you wouldn’t hear their cry though. The banshee don’t travel to the dying in their corporeal form, it’s their spirit that calls for death—no amount of fairy wood can keep a spirit out.”

  Patrick’s head snapped back as though Aoife had slapped him across the face. He grabbed Mac by the shirt. “The god the time thief witches were descended from—was is the god beneath the sea? Was it Arawn?”

  Mac fumbled with his phone and flicked his fingers over the screen. A crease formed between his brows as he glanced up at Patrick. “How did you know they were descended from Arawn?”

  The fragments of truth spun through my mind like leaves on an autumn breeze as I stared into Patrick’s eyes. The time thieves were a Welsh clan descended from Arawn. They tossed the witches over the cliffs into the sea. Pulled the child out of the ocean at Barna, crying for her mother. Kathleen was afraid to use her magic for years. A fox wailing all night in the Silent Quarter. My foster mother used a healing rune on me. It’s like I have a blind spot in my mind. Feed Arawn thirty children of the moon and he’ll grant you immortality. I stared at the files taped to the wall, counting the photographs with frozen lips. Thirty. Thirty missing children of the moon.

  Aoife clutched at my hand and drew breath in through her teeth, her mind sifting through the details at the same speed as mine. “Gods, Patrick, you don’t think—”

  He was gone before Aoife could finish her sentence. I bolted after him, but one of Snow’s men blocked my path. Snow glared at me with tight lips. “Does anyone want to explain what the rest of us are clearly missing?”