by John Conroe
The woman to Macha’s right was older than the girl but much younger than Macha. Taller, too. But there was a resemblance to both Macha and the girl that told me the three were related. All three had hazel eyes and light brown hair.
“Ah, young Declan Irwin, here in the big city. Fancy us meeting ye here and now, as it were,” Macha said. Beside her, the girl was holding vast power, little eddies of magic slipping free to lift her hair like an errant wind. I remembered she was at least an Air witch and maybe more. I noticed that the rain wasn’t touching any of them.
Sorrow was alert and almost quivering inside me, studying the situation. The walkway trembled slightly as the traffic underneath us shook the foundations.
They had planned well, getting me above the earth and now standing in a grounding downpour that was cold enough to remove most of the ready heat around me. I had only my reserves. The High Line path shook again and Sorrow dragged my attention to it, even as I spoke.
“So you killed my mother and now you’re here to finish the job,” I stated, settling my feet into the firm structure of the path.
“We did no such thing! The nerve of ye to call us killers when ye have a record of it yerself,” Macha said.
“Then what could you want with me?” I asked, glancing behind me at the nine other women, who were closer now. “You and your circle.”
“Aye, we’ve brought the best of the clan with us and all of us being Irwins,” she said. “What we want is what be only right—to bring ye back to where ye belong—among yer own people.”
“My own people?” I asked. The vehicles shake this structure. Use them, Sorrow suggested. I might have been above the earth but I was still connected, if only by the steel and concrete of the walkway. I started to slowly pull together what power I could harness from the traffic below. “The same people who forced rapists on my mother and aunt? Those people?”
“Ye know jest one side of it, see? She be filling yer head with lies and stories such as make us look dark, don’t ye see?”
“Oh, and this little ambush isn’t dark and scary? Trapping me like an animal is supposed to make us friends, is it?” I asked.
“Well lad, we got off to a rough start we did, and ye showed yer not to be trifled with. So this… this should be telling ye just how much respect we have fer yer abilities. Ye should be flattered,” she said. “But yer also a bit above yerself. Tis understandable, what with ye living among so many witches and such as don’t know the family secrets. But lad, ye don’t know all the family secrets either. Even yer mum and yer aunt didn’t yet know them all when they left. We have knowledge ye lack.”
“So, what? You want me to drop everything I’m doing and head off to Ireland to study at your feet?” I asked.
“T’would be best, but I doubt ye’d be so trusting. No, lad. I propose ye at least be willing to meet with us and learn more about yer heritage. Einin here could show ye things ye wouldn’t be finding out on yer own,” she said, indicating the young girl to her left.
Einin suddenly smiled, and it unnerved me. Not that she was ugly. She wasn’t, although not what I would call excessively pretty, either. But there was a glint in her eyes that told me she would love to have me in a subordinate position. She gestured slightly with one hand and the storm shrank away from them even more. The pouring rain was now mostly around me in maybe a twelve-foot circle. She smirked again. It seemed to be her normal look.
Bitches be lying, Sorrow interjected. Okay, so I listen to rap and hip-hop. I’m eighteen; it’s kind of my generation’s thing. But the fact it was influencing the ancient book of evil magic that lived inside me was a bit… unsettling.
Earth to Shield, Earth to Fire, Sorrow added, showing me spells I hadn’t ever heard of before.
Using Earth energy to create shields wasn’t new, as Earth lent itself well to protective spells. But the form of the shield it suggested was different. The real kicker was the implication that one could transmute one affinity for another. Earth to Fire? Nowhere had I ever read, heard, or seen any hint that such a thing was possible. What about Air to Fire?
Possible for one with both affinities.
Holy shit. The implications were mind-blowing. I tried the shield spell and, low and behold, a round disc of invisible shielding formed over my head—like Wonder Woman’s umbrella. The rain stopped hitting me, blocked completely by the spell. Macha, Einin, and the other, unnamed witch noticed immediately. Then I tried the second spell. My clothes started to steam. Their eyes got wide.
“The book,” Macha said, which elicited a quick confused glance from both her companions. “Ye’ve seen the book.”
“I’ve seen lots of books. It’s a big city. We have books.” I said, pulling my rapidly drying t-shirt away from my skin so air could get under it.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where did ye get it?” she asked, then her expression shifted as an idea occurred to her. “Yer father. Ye’ve met your father, ye have,” she accused.
So I could guess what book she was referring to although seen it was less the right verb than, say, melded with. But what did my father have to do with the book? The conversation was getting odd… odder. Time to go.
“Listen, I’ll consider talking with you, but not like a trapped rat. We meet somewhere neutral—a park or something. Whether you have anything to teach me or not… well… we’ll see,” I said.
Macha’s lips were pressed in a flat line. This wasn’t going the way she wanted it to.
“I want to know about the book, lad. Yu’ll be telling us a bit about that, at least,” she said.
I moved to the edge of the High Line, looking over. Below me, I saw a virtual nest of rail lines and parked train cars. Next to the railing was a goodly sized streetlight rising from ground level. “I’ll be bouncing now. Got get back to my job. In case you didn’t know, I work for God’s Warrior, so I can’t stay and trade recipes,” I said trying to keep as cool as I could. Climbing the High Line’s railing, I jumped to the lightpost, activating my glyphs to give me the strength to hang on. Then I slid down, reaching the tracks and solid ground below. Three faces looked down at me from above but pulled back abruptly as soon as my feet touched earth and I drew power. My Sight showed shields snapping into place above me. I ignored them, turning and moving quickly across the rails and out of the yard. The rain fell off, the storm beginning to dissipate as the witches controlling it let it fall apart.
Hurrying onward, I put distance between us, pulling heat from the hot pavement and further drying my clothes. I had a lot to consider.
“Sorrow, why did you help me?” I asked.
I serve.
“Who do you serve?”
Rosewitha.
“She’s dead—right?” I asked, hoping like hell he wasn’t going to surprise me.
Her form but not her line.
Her line? “She had a child?”
Truth.
“But you’re in me? How is that serving her line?”
I serve you—I serve the line.
I remembered something Perun, my father, had said. Something about his own mother.
“Is Zuzanna of the line?” I guessed.
She is of the line.
“Why not serve her?”
If you were not alive, I would serve her.
Thinking I might never sleep again, I hurried home toward the tower, finally spotting a taxi. I waved and it pulled over. Seated in back, I tried not to think about the fact that I was, it seemed, directly related to one of the most evil witches in history. Then I saw the text on my phone and groaned. My boss was an angel, or at least an ex-angel, and I was descended from evil. Should I tell him?
Chapter 21 – Chris
“We should go looking for him,” Tanya said for the third time.
“Let’s give him a half hour more,” I replied. She gave me the you’re dead wrong stare and my phone buzzed.
I looked down, then back up, unable to keep the triumphant look off my face. “It’s Declan. Says he’s on hi
s way back. Got caught in a storm and didn’t dare pull his phone out to check his messages,” I told the two vampires in front of me.
“Storm? I didn’t see any rain predicted for this afternoon or evening?” Lydia asked.
“So the weather people were wrong—that’s never happened before,” I said back to her.
“Oh the sass! And doesn’t he have one of those waterproof cases?” Lydia pressed.
“What are you, the phone Gestapo? The fact that the message didn’t show as delivered backs him, oh cynical one,” I said.
“Enough. This pseudo-sibling bickering was cute once upon a time, but that was long ago. Declan responded, he says he’s on his way back, and we’ve stuff to organize,” Tanya said.
“Grouchy. So you really want to let all those interns loose in Plasma?” Lydia asked.
“Yeah, they’ve been working hard and Plasma is controlled, protected territory,” Tanya said. “How much trouble could they get into?”
A couple hours later provided the answer: a lot.
Most of the interns were under twenty-one, but a number of them were foreign and legal to drink in their own countries. And a handful were older—seniors and grad students. Tanya hadn’t felt it necessary to forbid the older ones from drinking; it was supposed to be a night out, after all. But I don’t think she understood the older ones would supply the younger ones, who were only too happy to let loose in one of the most exclusive nightclubs anywhere on the globe. If Plasma had been popular before the events in Washington, it was off the charts now.
So we had a bunch of excited college kids, let loose in a dark nightclub with legal-age friends whose VIP wristbands provided free alcohol.
“So this is what New Yorkers do for fun?” Declan asked me as he half-dragged a partially passed out intern upright on the sofa in our sitting area.
“I think this is what people in almost every city on the planet do for fun,” Lydia answered, handing a bottle of water to another intern. “What, you don’t see the attraction?” she asked him.
“I’m a witch. Alcohol is not really a great idea for us. Actually, any drug is a bad idea. Never can tell how they’re going to react with our body chemistry. Plus, who wants a drunk witch?” he asked, turning to watch some of the dancers out on the floor.
“Yeah, no shit. People would be turning into frogs everywhere,” she said.
“Damn right,” he agreed, still watching the dancers. Grace was out there with her roommates and from the looks of it, all three had found a friendly source for cocktails. A second later, said source showed up in the form of a weaving Simon, who casually draped his arms around Aleesha and Grace, leaning in to whisper in first one girl’s ear and then the other’s, making them both giggle.
“Although some people should probably spend time as frogs just on general principles,” Declan said, watching Simon.
“Could you do it?” Lydia asked.
He turned to look at her, maybe to see if she was serious. She was. He shrugged.
“Sorrow has a spell for it. All his other spells have worked. I’d need some DNA from both the victim and the frog.”
“But it could be trying to trick you?” she asked.
“There is that, but really, what would be the trick? You’re talking about transforming someone into an amphibian,” he said.
“Maybe the spell is permanent?” Lydia pointed out.
“And you’re saying that’s bad?” he asked.
“Uh-oh, we gotta watch this one… he’s going over to the dark side,” Lydia said to me.
“Well—they have cookies,” he said with a sigh as he pulled the drunk back upright for the third time.
A swirl of jasmine and lilac announced my vampire’s arrival. “Looks like this worked a little too well,” Tanya noted. She wasn’t happy. Having grown up as a vampire had left her sheltered from the antics of today’s kids. I think she was honestly surprised and disappointed in them. None of the rest of us were all that shocked.
“Wanna shut it down?” I asked.
“What I want to do is sober them all up,” she said.
“You could put a teeny bit of blood into a cocktail and then pour them all shots,” Lydia suggested.
“And then they would all feel awesome with absolutely no repercussions,” Tanya said, shaking her head.
“Sorrow’s got a potion that would do it,” Declan suggested. “It flushes all the alcohol and toxins out all at once. He’s suggesting that it’s unpleasant but quick.”
“How do we know if it’s safe?” Lydia asked.
“Easy. I try it first,” he said, his eyes flicking up as he listened to his passenger’s response. He nodded after a second. “He says it’ll be slightly unpleasant for me, but for the kids who’ve been drinking, it will leave them sober and it will be more uncomfortable. Then about an hour later, they should all be fine. But I’ll need some stuff from my bag.”
He was seldom without his messenger bag lately, which was understandable seeing as we had him warding and writing runes everywhere.
Tanya set the staff to rounding up the interns while Declan mixed a big batch of something slightly greenish with the help of the bartender. I wondered over to watch.
“It’s actually mostly water, with a goodly slug of bitters as the base. Then some herbs and some abracadabra, and shazam… instant alcohol cure,” he said.
“What kind of herbs?” Lydia asked.
“A little willow, some primrose oil, milk thistle, fennel, and a few others,” he said.
“What others, ‘cause I smell something a bit nasty?” she pressed.
“A teeny bit of charcoal and just a hint of wolfsbane,” he admitted.
“Aconite? That’s poisonous,” she said, glancing at me with a what the hell look.
“Yes it is—as it goes in. But I change it when I apply earth magic to the whole mixture. It’s an alkaloid, it speeds up the cleansing process, and it’s part of what makes the experience unpleasant.”
“And you’re about to feed it to these kids, some of whom you don’t like?” she asked, starting to really press him.
He frowned at her, poured a shot glass full of his mixture, then drank it down, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
Putting the glass down, he raised both eyebrows in a so there moment. A second later, he shuddered hard and pressed both hands on the bar top to stay upright. Then he shook himself and straightened up.
“Oh, they’re not going to like that,” he said, grimacing. He helped himself to a plastic cup of cola from the bar dispenser and slugged it down.
“A sugary chaser is probably a good idea,” he said, turning to me.
“Nasty?” Lydia asked, eyeing him with a hint of respect.
“Yeah, and I haven’t been drinking. That was just the normal toxins you pick up on a modern diet,” he said.
“I wouldn’t know,” she said, smiling wide enough to show the points of her little fangs.
“My Grandma… what big teeth you have,” Stacia said, arriving behind us. “What’s got you baring your fangs?”
“She thinks I’m going to poison all the interns with the sobering-up potion I just made. Most of them got drunk and Tanya seems pissed. So Sorrow offered this little mix and Lydia thinks I’ve gone over to the bad side because it has wolfsbane in it,” Declan explained.
“Wolfsbane? Keep that stuff away from me,” Stacia said with a grimace.
“Shit, we give it to the weres at school from time to time and it’s no biggie,” he said. “Ya just gotta treat it first.” He held up one hand and let a blue spark pop between his thumb and index finger. “I’ll throw this out,” he said, hefting the blender full of potion.
“No you won’t,” Tanya said, suddenly behind the bar. “You drank it just fine. I want it to be unpleasant,” she said, taking the pitcher from him. She nodded to the regular bartender, a vampire named Mandy who had been watching the whole thing with minor disbelief. Mandy started laying out shot glasses and Tanya filled them one after a
nother.
Meanwhile, the vampire staff was herding the drunk kids over our way, leaving the few sober ones out of the mix.
“Alright team Demidova, grab a glass and bottoms up,” Tanya said, taking a glass and leading them in the shot.
