The Enchanter Heir thc-4

by Cinda Williams Chima

  He stopped at an all-night diner on Fourth Street and ordered coffee and pie, sharing the place with a bone-weary waitress and some produce brokers from the West Side Market. Lilith’s words rattled around in his brain. He’d always been conflicted about his role as a slayer. So much of what she’d said echoed the voices in his own head.

  He sent a brief text to Gabriel, relaying what had happened. By the time he left the diner, he had a throbbing headache. And a summons to a meeting with Gabriel and Alison the next day.

  Members of Nightshade lived in the Oxbow Building, a former warehouse that had been renovated as spacious loft apartments. No shared dormitory rooms for them. It was the most secure building on campus. Gabriel occupied the penthouse.

  Jonah didn’t mingle much with his colleagues in Nightshade, save his few trusted friends. They had little in common save a talent for killing, and Jonah had too many secrets to keep. So he was viewed as a loner, resented as Gabriel’s pet. Rumored to be especially deadly.

  That, at least, was true.

  When he finally walked into the duty room on the first floor of the Oxbow Building, Alison Shaw was waiting for him, still blood-grubby from the fight in the Flats.

  “Thank God,” she said, when he walked in. “I was beginning to worry.”

  “I thought it was best not to come straight back here,” Jonah said. “I think half the Cleveland PD is out there.”

  “You could’ve sent me a text.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He studied her. “You have blood all over you.”

  “Those cadavers must’ve been fresh,” Alison said. “Lots of splash-back.” She swiped at her clothes. “I know I need a shower, but I didn’t want to miss you when you came in.” She waited and, when he said nothing, said, “Well? What was that all about?”

  Jonah really didn’t want to get into it. He wished he could go up to his apartment and strip off his bloody clothes, clean his blade, and lose himself in his music until he could lose himself in sleep.

  She deserved an answer, though. She’d saved his butt.

  “A shade grabbed a preschool class,” he said, tossing the ax onto a table. “From that mainliner town. Trinity. Mostly wizards.”

  Alison wrinkled her nose, as if nobody would possibly want a preschool class, let alone a gifted one. “A preschool class? Why?”

  “Someone named Lilith has a new scheme going.”

  It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to take charge of the shades, to organize a system for collecting and allocating bodies. But the constant hunt for new meat made it difficult to orchestrate anything.

  Jonah pulled the bottle from his jeans and waved it in front of Alison. “Whatever it is, it requires blood magic. Which comes from killing the gifted.”

  “Blood magic?” Alison hesitated, as always, unwilling to admit she didn’t know something. “What’s it used for?”

  “I don’t know. But Gabriel will.” He slid his fingers into his pocket, pulling out the bits of nightshade. “They scattered this around before the killing began.” When Alison looked puzzled, he said, “It’s nightshade. It looks like shades are the ones murdering mainliners, after all. And trying to blame it on us.”

  Alison grimaced. “You know I’ve got no use for mainliners, but children?”

  “I guess so.”

  Alison folded her arms and lifted her chin. “What is it about you, Kinlock? Do you attract trouble or what? I wondered why you didn’t stay for the second set.”

  Jonah rubbed blood away from a long scrape on his arm. “I smelled the shade, and I had to go check it out.”

  “You smelled it.”

  “He was wearing a corpse that was totally rank.”

  “I wish I had your sense of smell.”

  “No, you don’t. Trust me, it was pretty hard to take.” He slid a glance at her. Jonah had literally grown up with Alison. He understood her, though she wasn’t always easy to be with.

  “Anyway, I’m glad you came along when you did. I had my hands full.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “How did the rest of the show go?”

  “That’s why I was trying to reach you. Mose nearly passed out during the last set,” Alison said. “Natalie took him back to his place. She seems really worried.”

  “I’ll call them,” Jonah said. “See how he’s doing.” He paused. “Is it me, or has this been a really long day?”

  Alison hesitated for a heartbeat, and then said tentatively, “I had a good time tonight.” She licked her lips.

  No! Jonah thought, beginning to edge toward the door. Please don’t go there. Don’t ruin our friendship. Don’t make it awkward between us when you’re one of the few friends I have.

  Maybe he should imprint No! on his black sweatshirts. No, I’m not seeing anyone. No, I wouldn’t like to go someplace for coffee. No, I don’t come here often. Just. No.

  Alison put her gloved hand on his arm. “I just thought maybe you . . . that you might want to . . . come up to my place for a little while.”

  “I can’t,” Jonah said, knowing he had to stop her before she committed herself. So she could pretend it had never happened. What was he supposed to say now? It’s not you, it’s me? Which was the truth, after all.

  He looked into her eyes, saw the spark of hope fading. “I’m sorry, Alison, I’m a mess, I really am.” In every way. “I need to clean up and go to bed. I’m filthy, I feel awful, and I’ve got class in”—he checked his phone—“six hours, and you do, too.” He put his gloved hand on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Heir Apparent

  When Jonah arrived in Gabriel’s outer office, Alison was already there, all cleaned up from the night before. She sat in one of the guest chairs, ramrod straight, her feet planted, hands gripping the armrests as if determined to prevent herself from doing something stupid.

  When Jonah walked in, she looked up at him, then quickly away. She picked at a scratch on her arm.

  “Go right on in,” Patrick said.

  When they entered, Gabriel was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the conference area, a pick clenched between his teeth, restringing a Martin D-18. He fussed with the bridge for a few more minutes, then set the guitar aside, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with that later.” Pushing up to his feet, he embraced each of them in turn. “Glad you’re safe,” he said. He motioned Jonah and Alison to their usual seats.

  “Alison,” Gabriel said, studying her. “You look like you’re feeling better. More robust.”

  She nodded. “Right,” she said faintly, swallowing hard. Her gaze flicked to Jonah, then back to Gabriel. “I’m doing great. If I could just get rid of these headaches, I’d be perfect.”

  “Headaches? Are those new?”

  Alison nodded. “It’s always something.”

  “Ah.” Gabriel tapped his long, slender fingers on a newspaper spread across the table, clearly ready to move on. “Now . . . tell me what happened in the Flats. The newspapers are full of it this morning.” He held up the newspaper, and Jonah read the headline: Police Baffled at Grisly Scene in Flats. And underneath, Kidnapped Children Safe.

  I accomplished something, anyway, Jonah thought. But the victory tasted bitter in his mouth. “I ran into some trouble in the Flats, and Alison came to the rescue.”

  From the corner of his eye, Jonah caught Alison’s expression of pleased surprise.

  “Go on,” Gabriel said, settling back in his chair, the newspaper on his lap.

  “When I left Club Catastrophe last night, I caught a whiff of mischief and went to investigate. I found Brendan Wu on the Carter Road Lift Bridge.”

  “Brendan Wu?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

  “Remember? He died at Safe Harbor four years ago,” Jonah said. “He’d kidnapped a preschool class.”

  Gabriel tapped the newspaper. “From Trinity, apparently?”

  Jonah nodded. “All gifted.” He fished the glass bottle out of his jacket pocket and handed it across
to Gabriel. “He was carrying this, to collect blood magic. He said that gifted children were the best source.”

  “Shades want blood magic?” Gabriel murmured, examining the bottle as if fascinated. “I wonder why.”

  “What’s blood magic?” Alison asked. “And what’s it good for?”

  “It’s the energy released when the gifted are killed,”

  Gabriel said, setting the bottle on the table. “It can be captured using special ensorcelled containers like these. It’s an extremely potent magical catalyst, sometimes used by sorcerers on the down-low to force together incompatible elements in order to create powerful—often deadly—magical objects and potions.” Gabriel chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t get it.

  How would shades know about that?”

  “Apparently someone named Lilith is leading them now,”

  Jonah said.

  “Lilith?” Gabriel leaned forward, and the newspaper slid to the floor.

  Jonah nodded. “I thought the name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Brendan said she had a plan to save all of us. He wouldn’t tell me specifically what it was, but it involves blood magic. Apparently, they’re behind the mainliner killings.”

  “Oh my God,” Gabriel said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Jonah’s mentor radiated a mingle of emotions, but one dominated them all. Fear. Gabriel knew Lilith . . . and he was afraid of her for some reason. “This Lilith showed up, then, with an army of shades, and tried to convince me to join them in riffing the preschoolers,” Jonah said. “She claimed to know you.”

  “I knew someone by the name of Lilith Greaves, who died at Thorn Hill,” Gabriel said. “But it couldn’t have been her.

  That’s impossible.”

  “It’s not impossible,” Alison said, fingering her Nightshade amulet. “I mean, technically, all of the shades are dead, yet we see them all the time.”

  “What did she look like?” Gabriel asked. “Was she free or hosted?”

  “Free,” Jonah said. “She was more like a—an apparition. More detailed than your usual free shade, from what I could tell. She never let me get that close.”

  “So it could have been anyone,” Gabriel murmured, as if trying to convince himself. He finally settled back into his seat. “Did she offer any proof of who she was?”

  “She seemed to know a lot about us,” Jonah said.

  “I guess that’s not surprising,” Gabriel said. “Brendan could have filled her in . . . he or any of the other students we’ve lost. We’ve never had shades share information before.”

  “She wants to partner with us. Said we should be allies. At least, she wants to meet with you and negotiate a truce.”

  “And how, exactly, would that work?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “You’re the only one who can communicate with shades.”

  “I’d act as go-between,” Jonah said.

  “Did she say what her plan is?”

  Jonah flushed. “She wouldn’t . . . not unless I committed myself by riffing some of the mainliners.”

  Gabriel stared at him for a long moment, as if turning that over in his mind. “No,” he said. “Absolutely not. It’s clearly a hoax—or a trap—and I’m not wasting time on either one.” He retrieved the newspaper and folded it. “What’s all this about cadavers scattered all over the Flats?”

  “After we talked, Lilith ordered the shades to kill the kids. Alison and I intervened.”

  “How many shades would you say there were?”

  “A couple hundred?” Jonah said, looking at Alison for verification.

  She nodded, shifting in her seat. “There were a whole lot of them, and they didn’t go down easy.”

  Between the two of them, they relayed the rest of the story. “Lilith was giving the orders?” Gabriel asked. “She seemed to be in control?”

  Jonah nodded. “At least, she told them to attack, and they did.”

  Gabriel stood, walked to the window, and stared out at the lake, hands clasped behind his back. He always did that when he needed time to think. Finally, he shook himself and turned back to them. “This person sounds extremely dangerous—someone charismatic enough to arouse the undead, and fan the flames of hatred. If you run into her again, kill her.”

  For once, Gabriel didn’t use one of his many euphemisms for murder.

  “I think we should meet with her,” Jonah said bluntly. “We might learn something useful.”

  “Jonah!” Gabriel said. “She just tried to kill eight small children. That should tell you everything you need to know.”

  “I didn’t say join her,” Jonah said. “I said meet with her.”

  “No,” Gabriel said.

  “Look at it from her point of view,” Jonah said. “We’re trying to kill them. It’s self-defense.”

  Gabriel grimaced. “That’s one thing I’ve always loved about you, Jonah—your ability to see issues from all sides. And it seems that she’s managed to engage your sympathy. But I won’t meet with her. It’s too risky.”

  “I think it’s worth that risk, to find out what they’re planning,” Jonah said. “You might recognize her. If she isn’t the Lilith you remember, she might be somebody else from Thorn Hill.”

  “The answer is no,” Gabriel said flatly. “I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

  “Lilith warned me that she won’t allow us to kill shades anymore. She threatened to destroy us if we keep at it. She said they will continue to kill mainliners, and we’ll get the blame.” He paused. “Speaking of risk, did the papers mention anything about nightshade?”

  “Nightshade?” Gabriel’s head came up. “What do you mean?”

  Jonah tossed a handful of crushed herb onto Gabriel’s desk. “They scattered this all around the killing field. It’s part of the plan to eventually link it to us.”

  Gabriel poked at the nightshade with his forefinger. “Did anyone see either of you? Could you be identified?”

  “I don’t think so,” Jonah said. He looked at Alison, and she shook her head.

  “Good,” Gabriel said. “We’ll have to hope nobody makes that connection.”

  “Don’t you think they’ll find a way to make that happen?” Alison said. “I mean, we’re wearing Nightshade amulets, and we have the tattoos. Assuming they know that, then . . . ?”

  Gabriel sat, very still, for a long moment, then dropped his hands. “If they want a war, we’ll give it to them.”

  He looked at Alison and jerked his head toward the door. “Alison, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to speak to Jonah in private for a few minutes.”

  Alison stood and slumped out of the room, with many backward looks.

  When she had gone, Gabriel leaned back against his desk.

  “I’ve been getting a strong vibe of frustration from you for months,” he said. “It seems like you question every decision I make. Do you want to talk about it?”

  No , Jonah thought of saying. But, actually, he did. “It’s a number of things. Beginning with the mission.”

  “Go on.”

  “I just don’t see why it’s our job to finish what the Black Rose began.”

  “Is that how you view what we’re doing?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Gabriel rose, crossed to the refrigerator. “Would you like something to drink? I probably have something that would—”

  “No, thank you,” Jonah said, unwilling to make this tiny concession.

  Gabriel rummaged in the refrigerator for a few minutes, then returned to his chair empty-handed. “When I established the Anchorage, I committed myself to all of the victims of Thorn Hill—the living and the living dead. For the survivors, a home, an education, and care appropriate to their unique needs. For the others, a pathway to rest, while protecting the public. You’ve been critical to this effort.”

  “I didn’t ask for this,” Jonah said. Lilith’s words echoed in his head. “It seems to me that the shades want to survive as much as anyone e
lse. Who am I to put them to rest, as you call it?”

  “You’re not killing them, Jonah! They’re already dead.”

  “What about Safe Passage?”

  “Or nearly dead,” Gabriel amended. “If you were them, what would you want?”

  “That’s just the thing. I am them.”

  “Fine. Would you want to spend eternity in a constant quest for somebody to slaughter so you could live in his body for a little while? And when it began to decay, try and find another victim before you were too far gone to hunt? Is that what you would want?” Gabriel’s voice rose as he spoke, until he was practically shouting.

  Still, Jonah was getting more fear than anger.

  “What I want doesn’t matter. It should be their decision.

  How are they a threat to us?”

  “You’re all right with slaughtering children?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

  “Of course not! But why is it our job to prevent it?”

  “Because we’re the ones who can do it. If we don’t, then who will?”

  “I’d rather take a different approach—by researching what poisoned us and developing effective treatment before it’s too late.”

  “I’ve been working on that for ten years,” Gabriel said.

  “That’s my area of expertise. Don’t you think that if there were better treatments, I would’ve found them?”

  Gabriel paused and, when Jonah didn’t respond, said, “Is there anything I can do to make your life easier?”

  “You can find someone else.”

  “I know Jeanette’s death must have been tough on you.

  She was . . . a very special person.”

  “Yes. So special, she didn’t deserve to be murdered.” Tired as he was, Jonah couldn’t stand to sit anymore. He shoved to his feet and crossed the office to the window. Down below, a freighter was threading its way upriver.

  “All right, Jonah . . . you win,” Gabriel said to Jonah’s back. “I’m going to pull you from fieldwork.”

  Jonah swung around to face him. “What?” Gabriel laughed. “Oh, don’t worry . . . you won’t wriggle off the hook so easily. I have something else in mind for you. I wasn’t going to bring this up so soon, but . . . it’s time that I began thinking about a successor.”