Devious Magic (#3 Stella Mayweather Paranormal Series)

by Camilla Chafer

  “We have to go to England, Étoile,” I leaned forward, beseeching her. “If the Brotherhood captured Annalise in wolf form and knows what she is, there’s no telling what they’ll do to her. The note said she’d bite it. That can’t just be a lame ass joke!”

  “What are you going to do when you get there? Hmm, Stella? Are you going to reason with the Brotherhood? Are you going to ask them politely to let Annalise go, and you too? Or maybe offer yourself as an exchange?” Étoile shook her head and her words were harsh. “If they know what Annalise is, you can be sure they’ll never let her go. She’ll just be something else they can hunt and kill.”

  “So you expect me to sit here and do nothing?”

  “That’s exactly what I expect you to do, Stella. Let us get a plan together, then we’ll do something. But if we go to Hawkscroft unprepared, we’re all dead.”

  Seven

  We were at an impasse. There was no point arguing with Étoile, not when she spoke in that stern tone. Plus I had to face facts. Positives first: Now we knew where Annalise was, we were almost positive that she was alive and would stay that way at least for the hours she was on the plane. After that, there was a strong chance they’d continue to keep her alive if only to lure me to Hawkscroft. On the negative side, my brain reminded me all too dolefully, I was in Texas, nowhere near where I needed to be. I didn’t have a plan and it wasn’t just the Brotherhood against me. My boyfriend and friends didn’t want me to go to the aid of Annalise either. For the first time, in a very long time, I felt horribly alone. Even worse, I felt afraid and incapable.

  Given my current mood, and clearly not up to an argument, none that I was going to win anyway, I surrendered. After a few minutes of silence, Étoile went back to whatever she was doing on the laptop and I went in search of Evan.

  Following a couple of false starts in which I opened the door on the bathroom, then a closet, I knocked on the door nearest the front door and Evan called, “Come.” He had been sitting behind a desk, but he stood and smiled when I came in. However, he seemed a little wary of whatever I might say.

  “Hi,” I said. “I’m awake.” Well, duh, he could see that. What I meant was tell me you have a plan, please.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  “Good. Micah interrogated the shape-shifter while you were sleeping.”

  “Do I want to know what that means?” I tried hard not to shiver, especially once I spotted Micah sitting in the chair closest to me. He scrutinised me with cold eyes.

  “No,” said Evan, at the same time that Micah said, “The shifter is very, very angry. Fortunately, the arm can be reattached.”

  I suppressed an immediate urge to say sorry. Perhaps I was oversimplifying things, but the shifter was attempting to kill me and I was only trying to escape. The loss of a limb versus my loss of life? Well, at least one of those could be sewn back on if it were lost. I couldn’t say I felt much sympathy for the shifter.

  “We haven’t ascertained who the shifter was under the employ of... yet.” Micah made the last word sound horribly ominous. “But you can be assured the prisoner is now...”

  “Don’t say ‘armless.’ It’s not funny.” To emphasise my point, I rolled my eyes. Micah grinned. It wasn’t pleasant.

  “The prisoner is no longer a threat,” he finished. “The job was to get you to the airstrip and hand you over.”

  “The same place they took Annalise?”

  “Yes.”

  “So it was the Brotherhood.”

  Evan nodded again.

  I looked around the room while I mulled that over. Like the living room, it was sparse. A broad oak desk and a big, expensive-looking, leather chair behind it. Evan stood, resting his arms on the back of it as he leaned in. Two more chairs in front, one of which was occupied by Micah. A row of bookcases covered the wall behind Evan, stuffed with books and a few ancient looking objects. A tall plant filled a large basket in one corner and the window looked to the rear, over a small courtyard. This was a man who definitely did not do mall shopping.

  “The shifter didn’t know who the employer was. She was subbed out,” explained Evan.

  I dropped into the chair adjacent to Micah’s and absorbed that for a moment while Evan and Micah conferred about something the shape-shifter said. I wasn’t going to waste time wondering why they had a contract to find me and deliver me for money. What struck me was that it sounded uncomfortably like the way Evan once described his job. He even showed me how he could change bodies and appear as though he were a different person. At the same time, he showed me how to recognise the true being underneath. That was what confirmed the shifter’s identity, and probably saved me. I wasn’t sure how I felt about Evan doing things like the mysterious shifter sent to kidnap me.

  Looking at him, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to ask. For a little while longer, I wanted to stay in my cosy little bubble where I had a boyfriend who loved and protected me, and never participated in frightening, and quite possibly illegal, things in the name of business.

  Perhaps I was being stupid. Perhaps I was just waking up and the world would never be the way I wanted it to be. It was full of scary, hostile beings and I had to learn faster, or learn the hard way. I seemed to be having a strange little epiphany. Right now though, I’d have to leave the soul searching for later. There were more important things to tackle.

  “Does that mean the Brotherhood know what about shifters?” I asked, wondering if they’d discovered Annalise’s secret yet.

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Evan moved around the table to sit on his desk, one leg still on the floor. “They could have hired an agency who works with freelancers like this shifter. The middleman may never pass on who’s working for them, and the client would never ask.”

  “Do you know the agency?”

  “A rival of mine. They touch work I won’t do. I prefer to keep my business above the law. Kidnapping law-abiding women isn’t a service advertised in my catalogue.”

  “Glad to hear it.” I paused, then readied myself to say what I knew would be fruitless. “I need to get to England.”

  “We’ve been through this. It’s too dangerous. You aren’t at full power and you can’t take on the Brotherhood alone. You’d be risking too much.”

  “But I...”

  “No, Stella. This is not up for discussion.” When I opened my mouth to protest, Evan held up a hand, silencing me. “I mean it, Stella. It’s too risky. I can’t allow you to go.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Allow me?” I repeated incredulously. Who did he think he was to give or deny me permission to do anything?

  We glared at each other, in a deadlock. Evan had explained enough to me that I knew roughly what we were dealing with, but he seemed clueless about what would happen at Hawkscroft. It was that cluelessness that made it difficult to formulate a plan. “Can’t your employees do something?” I tried not to look at Micah, because I doubted he wanted to be told what to do anymore than I did. “They’re experienced in stake-outs and catching bad guys, aren’t they?”

  “Everyone is working their asses off keeping the business running for me, so I can be with you.” Evan closed his eyes briefly like he realised what he’d just said, and how it sounded.

  It stung, mostly because we had an audience and I could think of a whole bunch of people I’d rather argue in front of than Micah. As we stared at each other, I tried to think of a way to convey that I never asked Evan to step in and teach me, not at the beginning, when I was a neophyte. I also never demanded that he stay, even though I saw his growing restlessness, but I came up with nothing. Having it spelled out in plain words was another uncomfortable truth I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear, but it did remind me we would be having a conversation about this very soon.

  “I didn’t realise it had been so hard on you,” I replied stiffly, breaking the uncomfortable stretch of silence. Micah politely stared out the window, as if he were imagining he wasn’t there.

  Evan r
an a hand over his jaw, his lips pressed together in a stiff line. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he said softly.

  “No, it’s fine, I understand.” I stood up, smoothing imaginary creases out of my yoga pants. “I’ll leave you to get on with your work.” I was at the door, when Evan called my name tenderly. I turned, my hand on the doorknob, half expecting an apology, but instead he said, “I was going to order pizza. I didn’t have time to arrange for the kitchen to be stocked.”

  “Yum,” said Micah, snapping back into the present.

  I looked at him in surprise. “You eat pizza?”

  “I normally eat small, sweet animals like bunnies but the fur is a bitch.” He bared his teeth at me, pausing for a moment so I could get a good look at the sharp, pointed ridges, then winked. “Of course, I eat pizza. Who doesn’t?”

  Shaking my head, I looked back at Evan. “Fine.” I didn’t wait for a reply; I just shut the door behind me, my heart heavy.

  As I pulled the door closed, I heard Micah say, “Nice ring your little witch is wearing.”

  “Quiet!” snapped Evan. I stood on the other side of the door for a moment, frowning while I worked the ring in a circle around my finger with my thumb. The pretty jewels – rubies, emeralds, and sapphires – sparkled up at me. Evan told me that it had interesting properties; clearly it was something that Micah recognised, even if I didn’t. I didn’t want to barge back in and demand an answer, partly because my cross demeanour wouldn’t win me any favours, and partly because I didn’t want to be embarrassed in front of Micah by asking something he clearly thought I knew, even if Evan hadn’t thought an explanation were important. To be fair, he had mentioned special properties; I just hadn’t followed up on what.

  I alternated between furious and worried through dinner, which arrived, steaming hot, thirty minutes after our conversation. We spread the boxes across the kitchen counter, and passed plates and napkins around the four of us. I kept my answers to a monotonous “yes” and “no” as we ate, too tired and cross to engage in the conversation. Instead, I listened as Evan and Étoile relayed what they learned individually – not much – and tried not to look at Micah who was evidently enjoying the pizza. Finally he brushed his hands together over his plate, nodded at Evan and snapped out of the room, a brief rush of heat the only thing he left behind.

  “I thought magic didn’t work here.”

  “Witch’s,” Evan pointed out. “Micah and I both use magic here.”

  It seemed futile to argue that I was no threat, not when Evan was clearly suspicious of me, watching my every move just in case I leapt up and made a run for it. Funnily enough, the idea hadn’t even occurred to me until then. Now that it had, I couldn’t help wondering what would happen if I did just open the door and try to leave. Would there be a magical barrier preventing me? Would alarms go off?

  Finally, when my eyelids were drooping, and I was slumping ever lower in my dining chair, I still wasn’t quite on speaking terms with Evan. He said goodnight to Étoile, picked me up and carried me all the way upstairs to his bedroom.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t get to give you the tour earlier. I expected your first visit to my home, to be very different from this.” He walked through an open doorway, kicking the door shut with his foot.

  Like everything about Evan, his bedroom was understated in an elegantly masculine sort of way. Big bed in a glossy dark walnut, set off by white sheets and pale grey walls. He deposited me on the edge of the bed and the nightstand lamps came on automatically, casting a soft glow around the room as the long drapes shut themselves. Kneeling, he started to help me with my socks.

  “I can manage, thank you,” I said tartly and, after a moment, he let my foot go and rocked back on his heels.

  “Don’t sulk.”

  “I’m not sulking.” Well, I was, a little, but most of all, I was sick with worry about what was happening. I was terrified for Annalise because I knew that death wasn’t always the worst thing that could happen to a person. It was everything that preceded death that was the big problem. Most of all, the tremendous guilt of being safe and protected when my friend wasn’t made me feel traitorous.

  I wondered about Kitty and how she was treating the burns and whether Michelle was out of hospital. I thought about Gage and how worried he must be about Annalise, and Michelle, too. Then Beau, because he loved Annalise too and it must be killing him that he wasn’t there to protect her.

  Evan, never one to give up, tried again. “Don’t be mad at me then.”

  “How can I not be mad at you? You’ve taken away my magic and won’t let me leave.”

  “I haven’t taken it away. It just doesn’t work here. This house is protected by daemon magic and I can’t strip it just because of you, or Étoile. She gets that.”

  “Goody for her,” I mumbled.

  “It’s to protect us all.”

  “I don’t mean you harm.”

  “You sure about that right now?”

  That teased a smile out of me. Looking briefly relieved, Evan got up and stretched, moving round the side of the bed. I swivelled, drawing my legs up onto the bed, and watched him shuck his shirt and jeans, tossing them on an ancient-looking leather chair. Even through my anger, I could still appreciate what a fine figure he had.

  “I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

  “Oh, well.” Evan flicked an eyebrow, a smile slipping onto his lips.

  “Mind out of the gutter. I’m too worried to think about having sex.”

  “Might take your mind off it?”

  Rolling my eyes, the frustration briefly at bay, I muttered, “Down boy.” Yawning widely, I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry. Long day. I don’t mean to be mad at you,” I said, by way of an apology. I really didn’t mean to be mad at him. It was the situation that made me angry. In my heart, I knew Evan just wanted what was best for me, in the same way as Beau would always do what was best for Annalise.

  I did a sort of sit-down-wriggle to get out of my clothes, fished my phone from my pocket and laid it on the nightstand, then pushed back the covers to slide under. Evan joined me a moment later, pulling me into him so he could wrap his arms around me and press me into his warm body... Oh! His warm, naked body. For a moment, I wished I could forget everything but him.

  “I don’t want to just wait around while everyone else charges off to find Annalise. She’s my friend and she’s missing because of me,” I said, snuggling against him.

  “Can’t you understand that I don’t want you to get hurt?” Evan’s mouth was near my ear, his voice soft and low, anguished. “It’s not about not letting you do something. This is more than that. The Brotherhood might not have powers like you or I, but they’re brutal and vicious and they would think nothing about killing you.”

  “Then why invite me? Why not just kill me in Wilding?”

  I felt Evan shrug, his muscles brushing my back. “To get you on their turf where they feel safer and therefore, more powerful,” he said, his voice carrying just a note of question.

  I squirmed onto my back, turning again to face him. “Why me, anyway? If they want a powerful witch, why not go for Étoile, or anyone else?”

  “Maybe that’s just it. Maybe they don’t think you’re that powerful. Maybe they underestimate what you can do.”

  “Hmm.” I mulled that over. “I could use that to my advantage.”

  “If you were there, which you’re not,” Evan reminded me, unhelpfully.

  “I still don’t get it. They must want me more for something than just what I am. Otherwise, why go to the bother of inviting me, making their presence known, and then kidnapping my friend? If she’s been taken to England alive, like it appears to be, well, that’s a lot of trouble, time and money spent to get me there.”

  “Who knows? The Brotherhood aren’t known for being rational. They’ve killed countless people and they’re not about to turn friendly now. Use your brain, Stella. They want you dead and they’re just playing a game with you because
you’re the one that got away. Maybe there’s a bonus on your head.” Evan sighed, rolling onto his back. He didn’t have to make that any clearer. The Council told me that I was the last of the English witches, the last of the blood witches whose veins ran with magic. “Stay here,” Evan urged. “I’ll keep you safe and we’ll send others to look for Annalise and bring her back. I’ll call in some favours. I promise.”

  I could have laboured the point and insisted that I go, but Evan was as stubborn as I and I was too tired to press anymore tonight.

  “How’d you get the scars on your back?” I asked, after we’d been quiet for a moment. I noticed them the first time we slept together and never asked about. It didn’t seem polite. At first, I didn’t think Evan heard me and I was just going to ask again when I heard him draw a deep breath.

  “My father,” he said finally. “He’s a full blooded demon. They were punishment for misdeeds when I was younger, before my mother died.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  “Yes, it is.” Another long pause then, “He can hurt you just by looking at you. It’s one of his special talents.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Far away.”

  “Can you do that, hurt people just by looking at them?”

  “Yes, but not as powerfully and I don’t choose to.”

  “What about Micah? He’s a full-blooded demon, right?”

  “Yep, but not as powerful as I, even though I’m daemon, a half-blood. My father’s family are very, very powerful and it passed through to me, but I have more of my mother’s humanity. Micah, on the other hand, is from a lesser line but he’s bright and able, and he finds humans very interesting.”