Endless Magic (Stella Mayweather Series Book 6)

by Camilla Chafer

"Is that it? Is it Stella?" asked Astra, staring at me.

  "No, that was a huge surge of earth energy, but it was weird," replied Seren.

  "I was trying not to fall over in that whirlwind, and had to concentrate on my feet just to stay still, and it suddenly appeared there," I protested. "Where did that whirlwind come from?"

  "It's the magic. It wasn't as strong with just the three of us, and it's coming back," said Étoile. "The earthquake will take some explaining, but at least, now we can rule you out as the superwitch."

  "One hundred percent," I agreed. "I don't feel any different."

  "I didn't feel any change in the magic," said Seren as her hair whipped around her face, the wind rising again. "I agree. It's not Stella either. Clare, you need to step in so we can restart the spell before we lose our momentum. Let's break apart so Clare can light her candle."

  Clare stepped over the herb circle, shivering as a blast of wind accosted her, and stopped between Seren and me. We watched her repeat my movements. First, kneeling to light her candle, and then rising as we shuffled around her, linking our fingers around the candles.

  "Last time," said Étoile, her words remarkably brief, given the situation. We had one last chance to discover if the superwitch were one of us, the most likely candidates. In a few minutes, it could all be over, and then where would we be?

  In unison, we started again, working our way through the spell. Just as before, the magic began to rise, pulling its way around us and sliding through our veins, prickling our skin. It took a momentous, collective effort to concentrate on the spell. As we touched our flames together, uttering the last words on our tongues, I knew we were defeated.

  There was no sudden rise in power, no superwitch bursting from our circle to save us all. Yes, we had a connection to each other, but despite its beauty as a spell, it wasn't enough. And certainly not what Étoile hoped for.

  "I don't feel any different," said Clare, breaking the silence. "I mean, I feel nice, actually, I feel really good, and more in tune with you all, but I don't feel special. It's not me."

  "It's not any of us," said Astra, voicing all of our thoughts. "So who the hell is it? Was there another prophecy?"

  "I feel good too. I can't explain it, but I sense our connection even though we're not linked anymore." I held up my hand, and little sparks flew from my fingers only to disappear in the air. Despite having a connection with the sisters before, it never felt like this. I’d grown stronger, more confident, and more able.

  "Étoile, maybe this superwitch doesn't exist," said Seren, her voice soft with disappointment.

  Étoile pursed her lips, but I couldn't decide if she were angry, disappointed, or both. "Maybe; but we need to keep looking until we exhaust all avenues. We need those talismans. Stella?"

  "I have one. That is, I know where it is and I'll have it very soon."

  "And the others?"

  I swallowed, facing the task I'd been avoiding. I had to find Gage and convince him to turn over the talisman. "I might have one more very soon."

  "Astra?"

  "I don't have any leads on the others, except one is a pendant," she said, glancing at me for confirmation that it was the right answer.

  "Then get back to work! I need to figure out a way to ensure the humans will consider Stella's power surge as nothing more than an earthquake." Étoile turned away from the debris caused by Seren's spell, but not fast enough. I saw the strain and disappointment on her face. I knew then that Étoile was hiding something from us, something that made finding the superwitch more imperative than a simple hope.

  ~

  Gage didn't answer his phone, or the line in his room. I didn't know where to find him despite searching in all the likely public places: the break-rooms, the hall, the restaurant, but he was nowhere to be found. After an hour of looking on all the Council's floors in The Amethyst, I had to admit defeat. Gage wasn't in the building and there was nothing I could do, but wait and hope he wasn't avoiding me deliberately.

  Making my way to the library, I wished he went out with a search party, and was finally making a breakthrough in locating the people I left, no, I was forced to leave behind, I reminded myself. Despite my goal of not indulging in anymore guilt-ridden self-blame, I couldn't help it. The guilt, shame and helplessness soon became overwhelming.

  Waiting in the library was the next best thing, I decided as I pushed my way through the large doors. Astra mentioned some books on talismans here, and I planned to use my waiting time constructively by researching what the other objects might be. Knowing where to find the horologican and werewolf totem wasn't enough. I needed every piece of the puzzle, and Étoile was relying on me to obtain them. I might be useless to the search party, but at least, I could help here.

  The library was quiet, and the musty air was infused with the scent of old leather and parchment. I slung my cardigan around the back of a heavy, wooden chair, subtly reserving that space while I perused the stacks of old books. Some of them vibrated as I passed by, almost eagerly begging me to pick them up and browse, but most of them remained still, reserving their magic in their words rather than emanating from the pages.

  Talismans took up a very small section, only half a shelf, beside the totems and tarot cards. I grabbed all the talisman books before returning to my seat. None of the six books looked like they’d been checked out in a while, and each was covered in a thin film of dust. I pulled the thickest volume toward me, tracing my fingers over the embossed cover. Seeing the little nicks in the design, it looked like someone might have made it by hand. The pages inside were yellowed, but still legible. I flicked through it, speed reading as I scanned for information on the remaining talismans. It was interesting stuff. I found plenty of information if I wanted to make my own talisman, and suggestions as to what I might use them for; but there was nothing that related to the shapeshifters, demons, or vampires. One good thing I learned was: I could turn crystals into talismans and place them around my home, or give them to people I cared for to aid them in little ways. I could also give them to people I wanted to cause disruption to.

  Closing the book as my name was called, I looked up and smiled. Gage walked towards me. He was clad in the same black fatigues worn by the search party. Gone were the gloves and backpack, and his sleeves were pushed up to the elbows, revealing his thick forearms and sinewy veins. I hadn't realised before how big he'd become since his ascent to pack leader. I wondered if it were a reflection of the job; an evolutionary achievement to manifest his supremacy over the lesser pack members.

  "I got your message," he said, coming to a stop in front of the table. The slip of paper I'd pushed under his door was in his hand. "I thought I'd catch up with you later, but here you are."

  "Here I am," I agreed, swiftly containing the disappointment I felt at hearing this was a chance meeting, and he hadn't been looking for me at all. I swallowed it. Our fling might have ended in a raw way, but it was the right thing to do. I had to remember that and not focus on my disappointment. Besides, there was little choice in my decision. It was mostly a head call, but even I had to admit my heart was never fully there for a relationship. I just wasn't sure how that left us, and whether or not I had any right to think lusty thoughts about him. We were done and that was it. I wasn't going to relive the past for a future that couldn't exist. I walked away, and I had to own that. Plus, being near Evan gave me plenty to think about already without any added complications.

  "You said it was urgent?" he prompted, his hand resting on the back of the chair opposite. He was clearly uncertain whether he should sit or stand.

  "It is." I gestured to the chair and he sat down, sliding his knees under the table.

  "I just got back from the search," he said, running a hand through his hair. "We made a small breakthrough. We found some paperwork that indicated a house they used upstate. We checked it out, but they'd already gone. They left some paperwork behind though; and we found..." he stopped, swallowing hard.

  "What did
you find?"

  "A dead woman."

  "A witch?"

  "Could be. One of the team took a photo and we're looking for a match amongst the missing."

  "Wouldn't her magic be enough? I thought magic lingers in the dead."

  "We found none in this one; at least, none that our witches could detect. They said she was completely empty. Drained."

  "They blocked my magic," I reminded him. "Perhaps they did the same to her."

  "But they didn't drain you."

  "Not permanently." It was a relief to have my magic back, but the tightening in my chest only reminded me how upsetting it was not to know exactly what The Brotherhood did to me. Did they experiment on me? And do the same to this witch only for her to die? Or was that their intention for me all along? To drain me until there was nothing left? It was an unpleasant thought and one I didn't want to dwell on.

  "I thought you'd want to know."

  I nodded. "I do. Do you have the photo?"

  He reached into his pocket, extracting a small photo that he pushed across the table. I took a long look, noting her blue-white skin and glassy eyes. It wasn't a good shot, only made worse by her clearly being dead. "I don't know," I told him, pushing the photo back. "I don't remember."

  "We'll know soon."

  "Do you know where they moved the others to?"

  "Not yet. She'd been dead only a few days, so she might not have been captive with you. I think our search is at an end. We're shifting our focus. Now we plan on tracking the two Brotherhood that were sighted nearby."

  "You hope they'll take you to Auberon?" I guessed.

  "That's the idea. I don't know how they managed to vanish without a trace, but they did. We have to try a new tactic to find them."

  "I understand." I gulped down my disappointment. Of course, it wouldn't be so easy to track The Brotherhood. They would do everything in their power to remain concealed while they plotted attacks against us. They would hardly surrender and hand over the prisoners to the first team attempting to trail them.

  "We're not giving up," he said emphatically. "They're out there somewhere, but we can't keep searching indefinitely."

  "I know. I understand, truly, I do." I did, but felt disappointed nevertheless. I wanted them to storm The Brotherhood compound and rescue the captives, ending The Brotherhood. I wanted Auberon and Georgia brought to justice, and made to account for their crimes. In all that, I wanted my escape to mean something, and to feel confident I hadn't just left the captives behind. Survivor’s guilt was a horrible thing. "I wanted to talk to you about something else," I said.

  "Shoot."

  "Do you remember that talisman? The one Mary Richardson tried to sell to Noah?" I asked. I reminded him of the time I witnessed Étoile's former High Council rival trying to secretly sell the talisman to the werewolf pack.

  Gage tapped his fingers against the table in a light rhythm. "It's not something I could easily forget. What about it?"

  "I need it."

  "What for?"

  "I can't tell you yet. Only that it could be really important in this war and I need to examine it."

  "I don't know. It's a strange thing. It could be dangerous."

  "It might still be, but not to your pack in the way we thought."

  "You had better tell me more."

  Chapter Nine

  Gage wouldn't let me accompany him to collect the talisman. Instead, he simply promised I would have it by the following morning. Not an ideal solution, but I suppose it was too much to expect him to bring it to the city with him. I was the one to entrust him with hiding it in the first place. Where he stashed it, he never told me, but he seemed very sure that it was still there. Trusting him was all I could do, especially after he believed my feeble story about examining it. Despite the suspicion written across his face, he trusted me not to try and use its power against his kind; and for that, I was eternally grateful. How to unlock its power was something that troubled me through a fitful night. I drifted into an exhausted half sleep in the early hours of the morning, awakening from my dream only after a beeping noise pulsed incessantly.

  It took me a little while to get my bearings as I rubbed my bleary eyes, focusing on the shadowy room. Realising the beeping came from the nightstand, I stuck one arm out from under the warm covers, reaching blindly for the phone.

  "Hello?" I mumbled, pressing the phone to my ear.

  "Good morning, Ms. Mayweather. This is the front desk. Your guest has arrived," came a perky female voice.

  "My guest?" I yawned, searching my memory for whatever guest I’d forgotten.

  "That's correct. Chyler Anderson has just arrived. You're expecting her?"

  "Yes, yes, I am. Thank you. Please tell her I'll be right there." Since right there would include bedhead and pyjamas, I added, "Ten minutes."

  "We'll check your guest in while she waits. Thank you!" The phone clicked off.

  I dropped the receiver onto the nightstand, yawning as I hit one hundred percent awake. Just as I began to stretch, a cold wave of fear washed over me.

  I wasn't alone.

  Keeping my body relaxed, as if I were still in that half-awakened state, I began to sink onto the pillows. I reached for the comforter with one hand as if to pull it over my shoulders. With my other hand, concealed by the edge of the bed, I called on my magic, smiling when it tickled my palm as the energy grew. In one smooth motion, I pulled the covers up, concealing what I was about to do, then dropped them before hurling the magical bomb at whomever erroneously thought it was a good idea to sneak into my bedroom.

  The magic hit a force field, erupting into little fireworks that cascaded off the shield. Inside the shield stood Evan, looking smug. Appearing well rested, his eyes were bright, and he seemed not at all perturbed that I just tried to disable him with a blast.

  "What the hell...?!" I started, hard anger chilling my bones as I rubbed my tired eyes.

  "Lesson one," he started, the shield disappearing, "be ready for anything."

  "I thought we were going to train in one of the rec rooms."

  "You think a war is staged inside a rec room? It could begin anywhere! It can be fought anywhere."

  "Not in my bedroom!"

  "Attacks will always be unexpected," Evan countered.

  "How am I ever going to sleep again if I know you're planning to sneak up on me when I'm asleep?"

  "I won't sneak up on you only while you're sleeping."

  "Wha...? You have got to be kidding me. You're going to sneak up on me all the time?"

  "You make funny little noises when you sleep," Evan said, his voice teasing as he ignored my question.

  "No, I don't!" Did I?

  "You talk too."

  "I do not!" I shuffled into a seated position, holding the comforter to my chest. I wondered how bad my bedhead was, and if I looked as tired as I felt. Evan seemed like he never slept better, and I had to envy the rejuvenating powers of daemons. If I hadn't known Evan for so long, I might have questioned whether his good looks were a glamour; mesmerising, yes, but not entirely real. Fortunately for him, he was a damn good-looking half-demon/half-man and I had to curse under my breath when he caught me at being less than my best. At least, he didn’t outdo me magically; that would have been doubly embarrassing. Speaking of which... "What did I say?"

  Evan's lips drew into a languid, sexy smile. "That would be telling."

  Before I could insist he tell me exactly what I said, he vanished. The heat of his teleportation flooded the room, warming me to my core. I couldn't drive myself crazy thinking about what I might have said in my sleep state. Instead, I simply had to take some comfort in knowing at least, he didn't realise I was dreaming about him.

  ~

  I would have recognised Chyler anywhere even though it had been a long time since I last saw her. She wore skinny blue jeans, a soft beige sweater and bright pink heels. Her hair was shorter, cut into a pixie crop, and blonder with highlights.

  Why does everyone ha
ve to look so good, especially so early in the morning? I wondered, aware that my shortened sleep was doing me a serious disservice. I had to prepare for a long and grumpy day. At least, I had the werewolf talisman to look forward to receiving. I hoped Chyler brought the horologican with her, and it didn't choose to do something different at the last moment. The last thought made me want to laugh out loud. A few years ago, I would never have contemplated the existence of a book that could think for itself.

  "Stella!" Chyler squealed when she saw me. "I would know you anywhere! Isn't this place fabulous? I've only been here once before. I can't believe I'm staying!"

  "You're staying?" I returned her hug, pleased at the warm greeting. I wished every being, supernatural or otherwise, greeted me with such overwhelming joy. It beat having them try to kill me.

  "Absolutely. Like I said, I got some time off, and I'm all checked in. I'm here as long as you need me."

  "I, well, uh..." I scrambled for something appropriate to say. Something that wouldn't offend her when I told her that it wasn't she — an untrained, bound witch — that I needed, but her very clever book.

  "And don't worry, I brought it," she said, patting the large leather tote slung over her shoulder. "It's been so eager to get here too. I half thought it might just transport itself, so I gave it my tickets to hold so it knew we were definitely on our way." Chyler smiled brilliantly, all white teeth and glossy, pink lips. She smelled of coconut and sunshine. If she bottled herself, I would definitely buy it.

  Dropping the bag onto her lower arm, she unzipped it, reaching inside. As she began to extract the book, she flashed another brilliant smile, and I expected her to produce it with a full-on “jazz hands” flourish. Behind me the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open with a faint swoosh. Chyler's brilliant smile froze, then faded as her eyes widened before she screamed.

  I spun around, my magic already itching to go. Damn Evan and his sneak surprises!

  But what I saw wasn't Evan poised to attack, compelling me to defend myself from whatever he had planned. No, the contents of the elevator had me instantly sucking in a terrified breath.