Shadow Hunt

by Melissa F. Olson

  But I knew enough about Old World politics to know that if I didn’t confirm it, and there was no proof, Maven wouldn’t have to act on it. “Let’s speak hypothetically for a moment, can we?” I said carefully.

  “Of course.” The vampire began lifting beverages, taking small, appreciative sips. She looked up at Molly and gestured to the last empty chair. “Will you be joining us?”

  Molly glanced at Lex, who shrugged her assent.

  “Thank you.” Molly perched on the edge of her chair, picking up a coffee from the tray that was already marked with her lipstick.

  “Hypothetically,” I started again, “if a null wanted to get pregnant, would it be possible?”

  Maven finished a sip and set down her cup. “Yes,” she said simply. “But very difficult.”

  Something inside me uncurled. Maven knew something about this. We had been right to come here. “Have you heard of it happening before?”

  She nodded. “In . . . let me see . . .” She glanced at the ceiling, squinting. “It was the 1240s, I believe.”

  Molly actually spat out some coffee, though she managed to turn her head at the last moment so it would land on the floor. “Holy shit,” she blurted.

  I raised an eyebrow at her, widening my eyes to say, Dude, we knew she was old.

  Molly nodded and sent a contrite look toward Maven. “Sorry, um, ma’am,” she said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just go get napkins—” She started to stand up, but Maven waved her off.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it later.”

  “Did you actually meet a null who was pregnant?” I asked, trying to get her attention away from Molly’s gaffe. Lex was still silent, but she was looking at me like I’d sprouted another arm.

  “Just north of Istanbul—it wasn’t called that then, of course—there was a small village called Azad, and it was populated almost entirely by witch clans,” she began. “This was shortly after the Inquisition began to spread across Europe, and many witches fled east to Azad, just as many Jews fled to Istanbul.

  “In Azad, witchcraft was practiced . . . well, openly is too strong a word, but Istanbul was in a period of decline, and no one was much bothered by the actions of a small village, not when western Europe was in such turmoil. And so Azad became a sanctuary for magic.” She took another sip of one of the drinks. Her eyes were distant. “I was in Istanbul at the time, on business”—Maven cast a furtive glance at Lex, then continued—“but I kept hearing stories about a city of magic, and decided to investigate. When I arrived in the village, it didn’t take me long to learn that there were three nulls living there.”

  “Three?” I asked, shocked. Most of the time nulls are divided by thousands of miles. It’s been theorized that this is an evolutionary imperative. “What was the population?”

  She shrugged. “Five, six hundred people. And yet, three of them were nulls. One was a woman in her fifties, another a man in his early twenties, and the third was a teenage girl, maybe seventeen. Before you ask, they were not related. In fact, they were from three different clans.” Another glance at Lex. “Three different witch clans.”

  My mouth dropped open. “They were all from witch families?”

  Maven nodded. “That was when I began to suspect that all nulls are descended from magical lines. The most powerful lines.”

  It was too much. I scooted back my chair and got up to pace, trying to absorb the implications.

  Lex, meanwhile, was looking at Maven. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked softly.

  Maven blinked. “Honestly . . . I thought you knew. Because of your niece.”

  Lex was a powerful witch, which meant her twin sister had inherited witchblood as well. “But John,” she began, and then faltered. “He doesn’t have magic.”

  I paused in my pacing, turning to look at Lex. “His mother does.”

  All three of them looked up at me. “What?” Lex said, as incredulous as I’d ever seen her. “Blossom has magic?”

  “Yeah. She activated it as a teenager and then stopped using it, probably shortly after it kicked in. I can still feel it, though.”

  “And men often miss out on the active gene,” Maven said mildly.

  Now Lex looked as stunned as I felt, which . . . okay, if I’m being honest, made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t the only one who’d barely known my own family.

  Wait. My own family.

  “You’re saying my parents were witches?” I said to Maven. “That’s . . . that’s ludicrous. They were the most normal humans I’ve ever met.”

  I thought back to the last few times I’d been with them. I’d never felt anything strange, anything I would later recognize as witches in my radius. It wasn’t possible.

  Maven spread her hands. “They might not have been active. They might not have even known. But if you’re a null, your parents both came from extremely strong magical bloodlines. Unless you were adopted.”

  I was fairly certain I wasn’t adopted. I looked just like my mother, and I’d seen pictures of her pregnant with me. Jack and I both had our father’s green eyes.

  Which meant they’d had witchblood. I dropped back into my chair, feeling suddenly faint.

  “You should eat something, Scar,” Molly murmured. After looking to Maven for permission, she slid one of the scones over to me. I picked at it absently.

  My parents had had witchblood. Both of them. What were the odds? Actually, wait. The odds were miniscule—that was the whole point. For thousands of years, witchblood had become more and more diluted as witches married humans. How often would two descendants from extremely powerful witch bloodlines find each other?

  Almost never. Which explained why nulls were so rare. “Can you please continue your story?” I said to Maven.

  Looking sympathetic, she said, “In Azad, the two younger nulls eventually fell in love.”

  “And then she got pregnant,” I said.

  “Yes. They had a little girl, which was a shock—even back then, anyone who knew about nulls knew they were barren.” Maven broke off a piece of scone, chewing blissfully. “Mmm. Anyway, I came to town when the girl was about three. I met the family briefly, and then I had to report to the Vampire Council to decide if we needed to do something about the child, or about Azad in general. Too many people knew about witch magic for the council’s liking.”

  “And?” Molly asked.

  Maven’s expression clouded over. “Ultimately, it never came to that. A small army of radical Christian humans learned about Azad, and they burned the village to the ground. Some escaped, but not the two nulls or their child.”

  We all fell silent then, but after a moment, I had to ask. “The baby,” I said quietly. “What was she? Was she human?”

  Maven’s eyes were sad. “She was a witch. The most powerful witch I have ever met.”

  Chapter 12

  They wanted to learn something from him, that much was obvious, but Jesse couldn’t tell if the Luparii witches had something specific in mind, or if it was a fishing expedition. Time for an experiment. Jesse squeezed his eyes shut. Sabine, he thought as hard as he could. I’m ready to tell you everything.

  There was no reaction. Which didn’t prove anything, of course, but it made Jesse suspect that perhaps she couldn’t read his immediate thoughts. Jesse had no idea how much of this spell was Sabine and how much was his own . . . what, projections? Creative input? Was he putting the items in the boxes, or were they already there, waiting to be discovered? Was it really like a raid, where the Luparii could look through his memories like a file cabinet, or was she just trying to trick him into thinking about whatever he wouldn’t want them to know?

  When the Luparii had first come to Los Angeles, years ago, it had been because the city was being terrorized by a magical aberration: a nova wolf, driven to kill and turn as many people as possible. Werewolves were one thing, but a nova wolf was a rare occurrence. Someone in Will’s pack had used his connections to alert the Luparii, trying
to make a deal to get Will out of the way.

  A Luparii scout had come, but not to make a deal. In fact, she’d ended up double-crossing the werewolf who’d made the offer, using Shadow to kill him. After that, she’d gone hunting.

  Before the Luparii scout could find the nova wolf, however, Jesse and Scarlett had stolen Shadow and arranged for the Luparii scout to be sent to prison for the nova wolf’s kills. Shadow had then helped them kill the nova wolf, Henry Remus. Afterward, Dashiell had brokered a deal with the European Luparii witches to stay the hell out of LA. It had been a very neat solution, all things considered. At the time, even Scarlett had thought the deal seemed a little too pat, but they’d had more crises to deal with, and none of them had expected the Luparii witches to return.

  So why had they come back? And why the focus on Scarlett’s whereabouts?

  Jesse could think of a few possibilities, but he wasn’t going to get answers unless he got out of here.

  Or was he? What had Killian said about this spell? “You can afford the distraction.” That implied that the twisted slumber required a little bit of her active concentration . . . which would mean that the Sabine who’d appeared in the evidence room wasn’t just part of a dream. She was part of the real Sabine’s active consciousness. Maybe Jesse could learn something from her.

  It was a hell of a leap of logic, but it gave Jesse something to hold on to. And something to do. Time for part two of the experiment. Making sure his mind was clear, Jesse called, “I know you’re with the Luparii.”

  Suddenly, Sabine was there, leaning against the nearest shelf with a bored look on her face. “Congratulations on being slightly less of an idiot than we thought.”

  “You used some kind of illusion spell back at the cottage,” Jesse went on. “That’s your whole thing, right? You twist things into darkness.”

  She didn’t answer, so Jesse tried a new tactic. “You’re supposed to stay out of Los Angeles,” he said. To his own ears he sounded like a petulant child. “There was a deal.”

  Sabine smirked. “I think it’s safe to say the deal is off.”

  “Because you couldn’t stand to have someone else take your toy?” he scoffed. “All this is about you being a sore loser?”

  She didn’t like that. “This is about the natural order,” she hissed. “And yes, we want what is owed to us. Our birthright.”

  Shadow? “The bargest is your birthright?” Jesse said without thinking.

  Her expression grew cagey as she realized he was trying to keep her talking. “Clever, clever,” she sang, giving him a little mock bow. “But that won’t work. And we’ve already got what we came for. You are quickly running out of usefulness, Jesse Cruz.”

  “So first you let Scarlett get away, and now you’re going to murder a mildly famous ex-cop? Won’t that get you in trouble with your superiors?”

  That annoyed her. “You forget,” she snapped, spreading her arms. “This is my world. Here, I have no superior.”

  “Then why did you run away before?” Jesse taunted. “You were scared I’d learn something from you, because this connection goes both ways. If you’re so confident about killing me, why not tell me the plan?”

  Her fists clenched. Suddenly the shelves around Jesse seemed to grow, rising to tower threateningly over him. Boxes rattled toward the edges of their shelves, poised to fall right on him.

  “If this is you trying to show me you’re not scared,” Jesse said in a bored voice, “you really do suck at it.”

  She grew again, her body distorting and leaning into him in a horrific parody of human behavior. It was as though someone had taken everything in Jesse’s eyeline and stretched it like Silly Putty, first vertically, and then horizontally. Only Jesse stayed the same size.

  The now-giant woman leaned down, wrapping her oversize fingers around Jesse’s neck and lifting. She slammed him against some of the shelving, his spine making impact. It hurt like hell, even though it seemed ridiculous that it would.

  When she touched him, though, it was like a window opening. Jesse could feel the anger and crazed intentions leaking out of her. There was something wrong with this woman, aside from the obvious. She had a screw loose.

  There was something else there, too: a longing, a wish that occupied part of her mind at all times. Jesse had a brief image of riding a horse, carrying a sword. Violence and viciousness and unimaginable power.

  What, she secretly dreamed of being a warlord?

  Then she tightened her fingers, and Jesse immediately forgot about the sensation of riding. “Little boy,” she thundered, “you have no idea what’s coming. It’s a shame you won’t live to see your friends suffer and die.”

  Jesse clawed at her hands, trying to get air, which he somehow still needed.

  Then she smiled. “But I can help with that.”

  She let go of his neck, and Jesse tumbled to the floor, dazed. It was eerily quiet, and when he finally managed to sit up, he saw that Sabine was gone—and so were the endless shelves. He was back inside Scarlett’s little cottage. Everything looked just as it had when the Luparii witches had knocked on the door.

  Had he really woken up?

  He noticed that Scarlett’s bedroom door was closed. She usually left it open so Shadow could go in and out as she pleased. Had it been closed when he’d gotten back to the cottage with Shadow?

  He couldn’t remember.

  Jesse staggered to his feet, leaning against the wall. He felt feverish, and he was desperate for water, but first he had to know. Lurching toward the bedroom door, he knocked lightly. “Scarlett?”

  There was no answer, so he turned the knob and pushed the door open.

  Scarlett’s lifeless eyes stared at him.

  She was lying upside down on the bed, her head hanging over the foot, pointed at the door. Her clothes had been slashed and shredded, and blood soaked the sheets around her, running down her neck and into her hair, soaking the carpet.

  Jesse gasped and yanked the door shut, trying to control his breathing. Was it real? It couldn’t be real . . . could it? He was still in the twisted slumber . . . right?

  He opened the door again, hoping it had vanished like a hallucination in a horror movie, but no, her body was still there. Still staring at him.

  Jesse closed the door again, distantly hearing his own whimpers. He wanted to run outside, to fight something, to move, but he felt weak and light-headed. And so hot. His clothes were soaked with sweat. Did that mean he was awake now? He couldn’t be.

  It’s still the spell, he told himself, even as he slid down the wall, his sweaty clothes aiding him. Scarlett will call to check on you. When you don’t answer, she’ll realize that something is wrong. He’d have to wait for that. She would come for him. She was still alive.

  She was.

  Jesse felt a rush of despair, and then there was only black.

  Chapter 13

  “A witch? You said she was three,” I protested. “Witches don’t come into their power until they go through puberty.”

  “Regular witches, yes,” Maven answered. “But the little girl in Azad had activated her magic before she could walk. She was a witchling.”

  Lex looked up sharply. “What does that mean? My”—her expression soured—“biological father called me a ‘deathling.’”

  “Because you’re nearly a purebred conduit,” Maven told her.

  Conduits were the first humans—well, whatever was before humans—who bonded with magic. They are also the ancestors of every magical race on earth: vampires, werewolves, witches, and—yes—nulls all descend from them. I didn’t really understand what she meant about Lex, but I was too wrapped up in the story to ask. “Please,” I said to Maven, “why were those nulls able to get pregnant? And why was the baby a witch?”

  Maven sighed. “This part is all theory, you understand? I can’t prove it, and short of Lex’s friend the scientist”—she glanced at Lex—“no one has ever even tried. But we know that witch bloodlines have become more
and more diluted, which has caused the ley lines to fade, which has caused all of magic to diminish.”

  This was all news to me, but Lex was nodding. “That’s why vampires and werewolves are having a hard time reproducing,” she explained to me.

  “Ley lines,” I repeated. Were there ley lines in LA?

  I had about a dozen follow-up questions on that alone, but Maven continued, “I believe that nulls are an evolutionary response to the diminishment of magic. When two nulls have a baby, that child is born with power nearly equal to a conduit. A witchling.”

  “Which is why the parents are nulls,” Molly supplied. “Because they can keep the baby from hurting anyone with magic.”

  Maven nodded again. “Witchlings may only come once in a thousand years, but they restart the bloodlines, boost the ley lines. They keep magic going.” She held out her hands, palms up. “That’s my theory, anyway. But the witchling in Azad was the first I’d met, and the last.” She gave me a sad, complicated smile. “Unless, of course, you were to hypothetically become pregnant.”

  Without thinking, I leaned forward and let my head thunk on the card table. Little exclamations of surprise came from Maven and Lex, but Molly just patted my back. “She does that,” she explained.

  I was in so much trouble. I mean, I hadn’t felt great about the future when I was just a single twenty-something who’d gotten knocked up by her dead lover, but now I was also carrying the frickin’ savior of magic?

  Above me, Lex was asking Maven, “Is this why you brought me on? So you could keep an eye on Charlie through me?” Her tone was completely neutral.

  “You’re a tremendous catch in your own right, Lex,” Maven answered, sounding a little amused. “But I’ll admit, I want to keep an eye on Charlie, too, to make sure she stays safe. When she grew older, I always planned to have a word with you about this.”

  “Why?” Molly asked, practically. “I mean, no offense, um, ma’am, but do you even have a horse in this race?”

  Maven sounded just the slightest bit offended. “Of course I do. We all do. Magic is dying, which could result in all of our species dying out. A witchling who grows up to have her own babies and boost the ley lines will help all of us.”