Hella stood between them. ‘What, Meele? Who do you think took her?’
‘When the angels took myself, Tessa and Amara, we were stopped on our way to Captor’s Point. They introduced us to a warlock, someone who the angels sold some Marks to. Maybe he came and found Amara.’ Meele suggested. ‘It makes sense.’
‘But who would he sell her Marks to?’ Hella asked.
Meele shrugged. ‘It’s a place to start. We can go to roughly where I think the van stopped and we met him—’
‘That won’t work,’ Piper said quietly. ‘Wherever you stopped, he won’t be there. We’ll have to scry for him. Do you know his name?’
‘You can’t scry for a warlock,’ Meele snapped.
‘You can’t, maybe.’ Piper said.
‘His name was Immego,’ Meele said, folding her arms across her chest.
‘Great. We’re going back to the store. Between Hella and myself, we’ll find him.’ Piper purposely, in a grand display for Meele, took Hella by the shoulders and steered them away. Net and Tommy followed wordlessly.
Back at Witches’ Wares, the too-recent trial coloured the warm familiarity of the store. A lot of bad things had happened here. Nerretti took Hella’s arm. ‘Let’s check on him,’ he suggested, leading her numbly into a backroom.
They found Harrow laying on a single cot-bed, his eyes closed. Net knelt to him and checked his breathing. Hella was frozen on the door’s threshold.
‘He’s okay,’ Net confirmed, then turned back to look at Hella. ‘Come on,’ he held out his hand. ‘Hella, come see him.’
Tommy peered into the room. ‘How is he?’
‘He’s steady,’ Net said. ‘Healing slowly. I had to take the blades out myself when they were done.’
Hella raked her eyes over Harrow’s torn and bloody body, stepping slowly into the room. ‘They stabbed him eight times?’ she hissed, careful not to wake him. She put a gentle hand on his forehead. There was a bandage over each of his hands, one over his right shoulder, and several more.
‘Once for each Family,’ Tommy confirmed, sitting at the end of the bed.
‘Can we restore his magic or not?’ Hella asked, doing her best not to cry.
‘We’ll have to let him heal naturally first,’ Tommy said. ‘Then, maybe. If his aunt or his parents are willing to help, and keep it a secret. We need someone he’s related to—someone with his own Nympha power—like a blood transfusion, but magical.’
Hella nodded slowly. ‘When will he wake up?’
Net looked him over. ‘I’m not sure. But he will. The ceremony isn’t designed to kill. I don’t know how he’ll be, but he’ll wake up when he’s ready.’
‘Did they let you stay with him?’ Hella asked.
‘Yes, I told them I should, since he’s still a child. I also promised not to interfere. Don’t know that I helped though. They tore his magic out like veins, I watched them.’ At Hella’s horrified look, Net’s eyed widened. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But his powers are gone. Julie told me to wait an hour before taking the blades out so that the blood could coagulate a bit, so he wouldn’t bleed to death. As soon as I started, he passed out.’
‘That might’ve been for the best,’ Tommy said, his own grass-green eyes shining.
Net nodded in agreement.
‘I’m sure he was glad you were there,’ Hella said. ‘I wish I could’ve been.’
‘I don’t think you would have wanted to see that, little witch. I don’t think Harrow would have wanted you to see him that way.’ Net put his hand on hers. ‘But it’s over now.’
‘Harrow’s ordeal might be, but we still have work to do.’ Piper had stuck her head into the room. ‘Come on. We have a faerie to find.’
Net and Tommy got up to leave. Hella met Net’s eyes. ‘I just need a minute with him,’ she said, and they both left them alone.
Hella let her tears slip down her cheek. She didn’t want to wake him, so she carefully planted a kiss on his cheek. He was so bloody and torn up. ‘I promise, Harrow, they’ll regret doing this to you.’ She brushed the dark hair off his forehead. ‘I should have been there with you.’ Her head shook, her body wracked with guilt. ‘It’s my fault they did this to you. For bringing you back, without your soul.’ Her voice was a shuddering whisper. ‘I’m so sorry, Harrow.’
Hella wiped her eyes, then gently squeezed his hand, around the wound. ‘Come back,’ she murmured.
Hella left Harrow asleep in the bed and went to join the others. She avoided each of their gazes, but as she sat down on the floor by the coffee table, Tommy squeezed her hand out of the others’ sights, and she squeezed back gratefully.
Piper had gathered up a map and an amethyst crystal for their scrying spell and waited for Hella’s attention.
‘Are you sure you can do this with just a name?’ Tommy asked with a frown, no doubt thinking of Remy, and the last scrying spell that had gone awry. Harrow had suffered then, too, Hella remembered.
‘Yes, I think so. Hella and I together should be more than capable.’ Piper caught her daughter’s gaze then. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked softly. Piper seemed never to do anything softly.
‘No,’ Hella ground out. ‘But we have to do this anyway.’ Together they clasped the crystal, holding it over the map, and focused on the name. Immego.
‘If you guys can scry for someone with just a name, why not scry for Amara?’ Tommy asked.
Piper shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t work. Wrong magic. We can tap into the warlock’s because our magicks are similar.’ Before the crystal could land, someone rapped sharply on the front door, yelling for them to open it.
Hella wanted both to roll her eyes at the frequency with which people tried to bang down their door, and stay away from it, hide behind someone else in case whoever they were was a threat. Both were ridiculous, of course. She was the promised witch, and should not roll her eyes, nor cower in the face of evil.
Or Amara.
‘Amara! We were just looking for you.’ Hella jumped to her feet at the welcome sight of the faerie to wrap her arms around her, but Amara held out her hands, warning her away.
‘Careful, this blade is powerful. I don’t know what it would do to any of you,’ Amara warned.
The blade was nothing like anything Hella had ever seen, including the stock from the shop. ‘Wow, what is that?’ The blade shone an iridescent indigo. It would have been beautiful if not for the black blood dripping off it. ‘And whose blood is that?’
Net and Piper let her properly into the room, locking the front door behind her.
‘More importantly,’ Net said, stepping closer to her, ‘where were you? We thought perhaps someone had abducted you from the collapse of the House.’
‘Oh, someone did,’ Amara said, and Hella noticed how her silver eyes shone like discs as she looked behind Hella. Hella spun around to see what she was looking at and, to her great embarrassment, squealed. It was Harrow, upright and stumbling into the room.
There were bandages covering eight parts of his body, where the blades had been. He was far too pale and covered in blood. But he was alive. And awake.
Hella rushed to him and—at the last moment—carefully wrapped her arms around him. He looked terrible, but his face cracked into a smile, she could hear it in his voice. ‘Hella,’ was all he said, but it was more than enough.
‘I’m sorry I left—’ Hella started crying, shaking her head. ‘Piper portalled us—’
‘No, no. Shh. No need for that.’ He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, resting his cheek on top of her head. Everyone else faded into the background, giving them this moment. ‘I’m okay, Hella. I’m alive.’
‘They won’t let me heal you,’ Hella said angrily. ‘Harrow, I’m so sorry, for everything. If I hadn’t brought you back to life, you wouldn’t have—’
He gently pressed his lips to her mouth, silencing her, and then they were locked in a passionate kiss.
‘I love you,’ It tumbled out of her mouth. She wasn’t interested in his apology. It didn’t matter.
He smiled then, and under the pain and tightness of the lines on his face, he looked happier than she had ever seen him. ‘Oh, the fire to my ice. I love you too. I always have.’
There was a moment that stretched on and on where Hella had never imagined she could be so relieved and happy. The darkness that had permeated her life since she had found out she was a witch evaporated and was replaced with a deep sense of gratitude: if not for that, then she never would have met Harrow.
‘I don’t mean to interrupt,’ came Amara’s usually gentle voice. It was the alarm in her voice now that got their attention. She waved at them both. ‘This really is beautiful guys. Harrow—’ She finally saw him clearly, it seemed. ‘Oh, my stars. They actually did the ceremony on you.’
Harrow opened his arms and beckoned to her.
Amara squished into a three-person hug. ‘I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’ the faerie asked, her voice choked.
Despite the fact Hella was pretty sure he had never looked worse, Harrow nodded. ‘I am,’ he said, planting a soft kiss on Hella’s head.
Net smiled at them all. ‘We need to find the warlock.’ It was clear that he didn’t want to break the moment, but priorities had to be kept.
Amara’s brows drew together. ‘We have to abolish that terrible law.’
‘I’m inclined to agree,’ Harrow said. He wrapped his arm around Hella, who helped him walk into the adjoining room, and they all sat around the coffee table.
Hella noticed Piper looked relieved, despite her recent brush with Meele. She seemed more relaxed. Hella wondered if she was glad that Harrow was okay—relatively, of course.
Amara settled onto the floor by the table. The faerie herself didn’t look too good either. But being held captive for two days will do that to you. Amara had never let go of the strange blade. ‘You’ll never guess who abducted me, Harrow.’
Harrow’s eyes squeezed shut in pain no matter how he sat, nor how much he seemed happy to be with Hella. He winced as he tried to take a deep breath. ‘I don’t know, Amara. Who?’
‘Should you be up?’ Net asked, looking up at Harrow.
He nodded. ‘I’m fine, Net. Thank you.’
‘It was Wyatt.’ Amara looked bedraggled. Hella noticed there were still dust-stains on her white clothes, the silver of her hair dulled under the grime.
Hella frowned. Before she could ask who that was, Harrow shot up to his feet and, for the first time since his sentencing, showed anger. His hands were in fists at his side. ‘What? Are you sure?’ She noticed how he groaned as he moved. He needed more rest.
‘Sit back down,’ Hella said, now oddly comfortable in reaching out for his hand and pulling him back to her. They sat on the same armchair. Harrow sat, squeezing her hand, but still looked angry.
Amara nodded and slipped tiredly onto the couch, pulling a light throw blanket over herself. Piper and Net sat either side of her, Tommy on the edge of the hearth by the empty fireplace, all ready to hear her story. She must be tired of being abducted, Hella thought.
‘I’m sure. I healed him that night, Harrow. After what he did to you—’ Amara began. Hella was already lost.
‘Wait.’ Hella held up a hand. ‘What do you mean? Who is this guy? We thought it was someone who stopped the angels in that van. Someone who sold Marks?’
‘Named Immego,’ Net put in.
Amara sighed, obviously exhausted.
‘Here,’ Hella said, conjuring her a mug of hot chocolate.
Amara chuckled. ‘Thanks, Hella. Wyatt and Immego are one and the same. He’s older, and he’s dyed his hair blond, but it’s him. As for what he did to Harrow, well, I’ll leave that to you.’ She looked at her old friend, as if properly for the first time. ‘You’re different,’ she said.
‘Well, I was soulless before, and now I’m not, if that’s what you mean,’ Harrow said uncomfortably. ‘Sorry about attacking you, by the way.’ Amara nodded, as if it were perfectly understandable.
‘And Wyatt, oh, that prick. We were staying at the Cambion Den together, back when I was thirteen.’ Harrow curled himself up onto in the armchair, his knees up at his chest, his arms wrapped around them. ‘And he seemed to have a problem with me, because I was a Nympha. I found out that I reminded him of someone.’
At that, Hella could read the sympathy in his eyes.
‘Lisa, who’—his voice caught—‘she used to run the Cambion Den—she told me that his problem with me was because he used to have a Nympha friend, who was not so gifted in his magic, and was therefore almost defenceless when he was attacked and taken by an angel. I worked with Lisa, and I found out that my gift, my magic, was stronger than others. Then, one night, Wyatt and I got into it at dinner, but afterwards, he came and apologised to me. Everything seemed okay. We went for a walk together, and on that walk, out into the darkness of Mill Valley, he was trying to make me understand his loss. It was not just a friend he had lost to the angels, it was his boyfriend. Someone he really loved. So, he sacrificed me to an angel attack to see if his boyfriend would have survived had he been more gifted.’
Hella had been holding her breath, despite knowing that Harrow obviously had escaped. ‘And?’ She was right beside him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the glint of anger mixed with sadness in his blue eyes.
Harrow dipped his head. ‘And it would have made all the difference. That Nympha, whoever he was, was just… unlucky. Wyatt, however, didn’t have to freaking sacrifice me. I got away from the angel that night and went back to the Den and broke his nose. He left that night. I think Lisa made him, though she never admitted it. I never knew where he went. Never saw him again.’ Harrow hugged his knees tighter to his chest.
‘He went to find his sister, Jacqueline.’ Amara said. ‘She’s a piece of work, let me tell you. Wyatt—Immego—tried to convince me to voluntarily give up my wings, to make these weapons.’ The faerie held out the shining blade. ‘That’s what they’re made of. Cambion Marks, melted down. He said they kill demons. He called them Deme blades. It’s Latin. It means “of myself”.’
‘Oh, my god.’ Hella looked at Harrow, who was pale. His grip on his wrists made his knuckles white.
‘That’s sick,’ he said, the corners of his mouth pulling down. He edged away from the blade.
Tommy looked outraged. He glared fiercely at the blade. ‘Does that thing hurt warlocks too?’
‘It sure made Wyatt bleed when I slashed him. You guys are part demon,’ Amara noted. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me. Didn’t kill him, though. At least, not before I ran away. He seemed very convinced about all of this. You should have heard the way he talked about this whole harvesting thing, “for the greater good” and everything. It was pretty surreal. He said he was there, at the London attack, and that they could have saved a lot more lives if they had more weapons.’
‘I think I’m going to throw up,’ Harrow said, now looking ashen.
Tommy nodded emphatically.
‘Amara,’ Hella said calmly, ‘where are Wyatt—or Immego—and Jacqueline? If they’re now hunting Cambions, we need to stop them.’
‘Do we?’ Piper asked from her perch on the edge of the couch. ‘They’re making weapons that kill demons. I’m just saying, in all my years, I’ve never seen or heard of any weapon that wasn’t part of an angel able to do that. And if the Cambions did volunteer…’ She let the sentence trail off as the rest of them glared at her.
‘Oh, I don’t think—’ Net began, but Amara beat him to it.
‘You can’t be serious,’ Amara said, setting the blade down, as if merely touching it repulsed her.
Harrow sat rigid
. Hella wondered if he really was going to throw up. Tommy looked the same way. It had to be awful. She couldn’t imagine how she would feel if people were making weapons out of witches’ body parts. In fact, just at the thought, something deep in her stomach revolted horribly.
‘That doesn’t make what they’re doing right,’ Net said diplomatically.
‘Right?’ Amara demanded, getting to her feet. ‘They abducted me and wanted to remove my Marks. Doesn’t that sound familiar to anyone?’
Sitting on the hearth of the fireplace, Tommy shimmered, his pale-green skin shining with emerald scales. Hella looked at Harrow, expecting to see his warlock Marks too, then it hit her. He couldn’t shimmer. He wasn’t a warlock anymore.
Amara’s eyes widened in sympathy, and Hella gingerly put a hand on Harrow’s shoulder. She felt him relax, just a little bit.
‘I think you should leave,’ Hella said. Everyone blinked for a moment, confused, until Hella’s gaze landed heavily on Piper. ‘We don’t need you—or your wacked out moral compass—here. We don’t do that to Cambions.’ Hella felt the ferocity of her words burn, and watched as Piper flinched back.
Piper frowned but got silently to her feet. ‘I’m staying at the motel up the road. If you need me, I’ll come.’
Hella said nothing as she left, the door opening and shutting with a clang. Hella’s hand tightened on Harrow and suddenly she wished they were alone. As if the others read her thoughts, Net cleared his throat.
‘I have some things to check on, in here,’ he said, jerking his thumb back to the main room.
‘I should get back to Faerie House. I’m sure there are those who need my healing,’ Amara said.
‘I’ll come with you,’ Tommy added, getting to his feet as he shimmered back to human-form. He knelt by Harrow before leaving. ‘How are you holding up?’
Harrow’s mouth quirked up in a half-smile. He was pale and covered with stab-wounds, his eyes dull and exhausted. ‘I’m okay. Thanks. I don’t recommend losing your soul, though. Lot of trouble.’ He winked. There was no malice there, only a jest, but a small part of Hella still cringed.
Mist, Murder & Magic Page 31
