Lix gave no directions, so Ben followed her closely along the narrow country road that wound deeper and deeper into the mountains. They turned off onto a gravel lane, and then took a dirt track that led to a clearing in the winter-dead woods before finally coming to a complete stop. It was full night now, the snow gleaming underfoot as they all climbed out of the cars to crunch their way through the icy crust to the front of the SUV Lix had driven.
“I can see why we needed four-wheel drive,” Gareth muttered. “Is this even a road?”
“Maintenance trail,” Lix answered, unfolding a map and spreading it out across the hood. “This clearing and track don’t get used in winter. Look around: the snow is completely untouched. It’s perfect.” She clicked on a compact flashlight, aiming the pencil-thin beam at the map and pointing to a red mark. “We’re here. On the far edge of the Winslow property. The ward wall isn’t far, but we’ll have to walk from here. Everyone, gear up. We move out in five.”
Ben took a deep breath, the frosty air burning cold as he inhaled. He reached under his clothes to pull out his mother’s runestone. He kissed it once, for good luck, and then tucked it away and shouldered his backpack. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s get this done.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Del
Del twirled in the mirror, admiring herself. Pale green silk, a shade lighter than her aura, skimmed her shoulders and tapered to gather at her waist, before plunging to the ground in a cascade of layers that faded to frothy white along the hem. Camille had done something clever to Del’s hair, taming her curls and pinning one side up. A delicate necklace of freshwater pearls shimmered at her throat.
“I’m not much of a dress person,” she told Camille, “but this looks pretty okay.”
Camille, all curves and glamour in a figure-hugging silver dress, raised an eyebrow. “Okay? It looks more than okay. Del, you look lovely. And a picture of innocence, as befits the Heart Bearer.” She smiled mischievously. “Ash is in trouble.”
“What do you mean?”
“You do know this is a ball? But it’s not just a party. The Moot is all about politics and power games. And the dance floor is where it all begins. Alliances have risen and fallen to the sounds of a Viennese waltz. You’ll be on your feet most of the evening, Del, as all the different factions try to get a feel for who exactly the Heart Bearer is, and try to woo you to their side. They’ll play dirty. Trust no one.”
“Oh.” Del was quiet for an instant. “I didn’t know. I thought… I don’t know what I thought. That I could just sit at a table, and maybe dance a bit with Ash?” Her voice rose at the end, high and breathless with anxiety.
Camille shook her head, grinning. “You’ll be lucky to get one dance in with Ash. Alex should have warned you. But perhaps he didn’t want to scare you. Look, you’ll be fine. Just smile politely and make small talk, and don’t agree to anything at all without consulting Alex. Got it?”
Del nodded, unhappy. “Got it.”
“Cheer up. It’s always a beautiful event. Just try to have a good time.”
There was a knock at the door. Camille opened it, calling over her shoulder, “Our escort is here. Shall we?”
Del gave the mirror one last glance and walked out into the hallway. Alex, Dan, and Deacon were all there, handsome in their tuxedos. But she had eyes only for Ash. He stood beside his father, broad shoulders well defined in the perfectly tailored jacket, his face shining as he drank her in. He stepped forward to take her hand and raise it to his lips.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured softly. “You are beautiful.” He offered her his arm and they left for the ballroom, trailing after the others. Conversation and laughter drifted back from Camille and everyone else, but Del didn’t hear a word. She was too wrapped up in the expression on Ash’s face, and the joyful pulse of the Heart Blade as it acknowledged his presence. Ours, it whispered to her. His. All their problems faded away for the moment: Ash’s nightmares; his anger; the barely hidden impatience whenever Del brought up Rowan. None of that mattered right now. They walked along in silence at the back of the group, needing nothing but each other.
When they reached the main floor, their group was joined by other guests, all heading in the same direction. The ballroom doors were open, and Ash led Del into a magical wonderland of white blossoms and candlelight. There was a delicious scent in the air, and Del traced it back to the orange and lemon trees in pots all around the perimeter of the room.
Alex led them to the round table reserved for the Guild. Moments later, a waiter arrived to fill their glasses. Del was surprised to see the adults turn down champagne.
“The Guild is outnumbered and outgunned at the Moot,” Alex explained. “A clear head is crucial.”
“Oh, hush,” said Camille. “It’s her first-ever ball. Let her enjoy it while she can. Don’t bring work into everything, Alex.”
Alex gave Camille an exasperated look, but then he smiled. “Camille’s right. Don’t worry about things, Del. You and Ash should be having a good time.”
Del turned to Ash, who was still staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. Her cheeks grew hot, and she felt ridiculously shy. “I should wear a dress more often,” she said.
He kissed her hand again. “You look amazing.” He leaned in to whisper, “But I like everyday Del, too, just as much.” His eyes widened at something over her shoulder, and she turned to look.
A group of sentinels was making their way across the room to settle at a table a little way to their left. A tall, dark-haired boy around their age was staring at them. Del frowned. “Isn’t that your cousin?” she asked. “Jordan?”
Ash’s jaw tensed. “Yeah. That’s him. We… didn’t exactly part on good terms. And on Sunday I have to officially back him, stand by him as he’s declared Scion-in-waiting.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’d better go and say hi.”
Del looked over her shoulder again. “No need. He’s on his way.”
Jordan threaded his way through the tables. He looked just as Del remembered him: green eyes, handsome, predatory smile.
“Del,” he said. “Nice to see you again.” His voice was polite, but his gaze was sharp, measuring. He turned to his cousin. “Ash. Are you coming over to our table? Andrew wants to say hi.”
Ash got to his feet, giving Del an apologetic look. “Andrew is my dad’s second-in-command. He’s a good guy. I’ll be right back.”
The two boys left together. Jordan gave Del one more calculating look, and she fought the impulse to cross her arms across her chest, feeling exposed and vulnerable at the scrutiny.
***
Camille hadn’t been kidding about the dancing. As soon as the dessert plates were cleared away, an elderly witch in a white tuxedo stopped by at the table, all silver-haired elegance. He greeted Dan, and then turned to Alex.
“May I borrow your charming protégé? The dance floor is about to open, and I would love to claim her first dance.”
“Thank you, Amos,” Alex replied. “But I believe her knight and protector has already requested that honor. Perhaps another dance, later?”
The witch bowed and left them. Alex explained, “Amos is the head of a powerful coven from the Midwest. It would be quite the victory to be seen with you, Del, especially at the crucial first dance. If he comes up to you later, you can accept. But now, I think you and Ash should make your way to the floor before anyone else has the same idea as Amos. Camille, shall we show them the way?”
As Ash pulled the chair out so she could stand, Del was looking around, seeing couples making for the center of the room. “So it’s a political thing, this first dance?” she asked.
“Exactly,” Camille answered. “By asking me to dance, Alex is declaring to the room that the Guild stands behind my claim.”
Ash led her by the hand to the dance floor. They took their places as the gentle music that had filled the room before exploded into a lively waltz. “Have you done this before?” Ash asked her.
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“Not that I can remember,” Del answered.
“No problem. I took ballroom dancing for years. It was part of my training as future Scion.”
Ash was sure-footed, his arms firmly supporting Del. She found it easy to follow his lead, and the steps felt as natural as walking or running. She smiled up at him and he leaned down to brush his lips against hers.
Soon the waltz changed, and a werewolf tapped Ash’s shoulder. “May I cut in?” he asked. The werewolf was young, barely in his twenties, and Ash handed her over with a barely-concealed scowl.
“I’m Andy Cannavera, Rudy’s son?” he introduced himself.
“Rudy Cannavera, the werewolf baron, right?” She smiled at him, mentally high-fiving herself for remembering. Alex had made her study all the main preternatural families and Court barons. Now she was glad she had.
The werewolf was a good partner, and kept her laughing with stories from past balls. The waltz ended too quickly, and he reluctantly handed her over to a tall vampire woman in an acid-green ball gown who introduced herself as Marianne Fletcher, the vampire baroness in person.
Nearby, Ash was dancing with a tiny wrinkled witch with a head of tight white curls. The witch patted his arm in a motherly fashion, and Ash flashed a smile at Del.
“Your young knight takes his job seriously,” the vampire said, amused. “He’s keeping a close eye on you.”
Del soon lost track of all her partners as she whirled from arm to arm. She took advantage of a lull in the music to excuse herself from a pale-faced half-demon and started to edge back to her seat, desperate to sit down for just one moment. Her high-heeled sandals had seemed perfect back at the dress shop, but now her feet were killing her.
Just as she’d reached the safety of the first row of tables, a hand caught her wrist. She turned to find herself facing a witch girl, who looked around her age. Del was about to excuse herself, when the witch whispered, “Dance with me, Rowan?”
Del froze, startled. “What did you say?”
The witch’s mouth curved into a smile. “You heard me.” She tugged Del back onto the dance floor, and Del let her, heart beating fast.
“You left me that note,” she said, as the witch slipped a hand around her waist and guided her in a two-step.
“I did,” she answered, still smiling. She was lovely, all large eyes and full lips, hair cascading in dark ringlets down her back. “I’m Elana. And you’re the Heart Bearer. But I’m not here about your shiny sword, even though it’s the talk of the ball.”
“What do you know about Rowan?”
Elana didn’t answer. Instead she swept Del up in a complicated little twirl that left her dizzy and flushed.
“You’re so pretty. Such a nice form you’ve taken this time,” Elana murmured.
“This time? Look, Elana. I don’t like games. I want some answers.”
“So hasty.” Elana leaned forward, lips brushing against Del’s ear. “Not here, my sweet. At one, when the ball ends. Go to the top floor, and take the stairs to the roof. I’ll be in the solarium, by the pool. Come alone.”
“No.”
Elana raised her eyebrows. “No?”
“That’s right, you heard me. No. Enough with the mystery. If you have something to tell me, spit it out.”
The young witch smiled again. “No. I won’t, not here in public. But I will give you something. That word you wear on your arm? It’s not just a caution. It’s part of something longer, something older. It begins like this: Never give up. Never give in. Never let the darkness win.”
Del’s skin prickled at the words Elana recited. She knew those lines, had been hearing them for a while now, in the soft, whispered voice of the Heart Blade. “What is that?”
“Later. Will you trust me?”
Del didn’t answer. She didn’t trust the witch at all. But the words awoke something in her, and the hunger to know who she was and how she was connected to Rowan warred with her caution. Elana could probably read the conflict all over Del’s face, because she touched her cheek.
“I’ll see you later. Alone, remember.”
Del was about to protest, to say she had no intention of meeting her. But with a final twirl that deposited Del neatly at the edge of the dance floor, the witch was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Raze
Raze’s breath misted white in the frosty air as she crouched in the scant cover of the tree line. Ahead, an expanse of lawn waited, dark spikes of dead grass pushing through the thin snow cover. She tugged her black beanie further down on her head and wriggled her cold fingers in her gloves. The slow unpicking of the ward wall, and the carefully silent walk through the woods, had taken forever. But now that they were here, in sight of the house, she wished they could just keep walking.
Winslow’s mansion lay ahead, dimly lit but still bright enough against the black of the gardens. The flickering glow from a TV danced across one of the windows at the back of the house. Lix glanced at her watch. “Almost eight o’clock. Hopefully our vampires are the sort of couple who cuddle together on the sofa at night… Raze, I need you to shift and find out where they are. Can you do that from here?”
Raze shook her head. “Not from here. Not if they’re inside. If I get closer, will I set anything off? Alarms, wards?”
“May?” Lix asked.
There was a pause, as May’s hands glowed briefly green. “No more wards, not on this side of the grounds, anyway. And the regular alarm system is supposed to be off, right?”
“So we’re good. I’m on it.” Raze reached for the wolf and shifted. The night came alive with scents and small sounds, but she couldn’t sense anything from the house, not yet. She padded forward, paws barely making noise on the ice-crusted snow. Closer to the house, there was the residual smell of something earthy and wild. Not animal, or human, but preternatural. In any case, the scent was faded, not fresh. It didn’t really matter.
Up close, she could hear the drone of the TV. Fake laughter rang out — they were watching a comedy show — and she caught the very real laughter of two separate people. So the vampires were in there: both the butler and the housekeeper.
Raze carefully retreated, shifting back when she reached the tree line. “They’re both in the same room, watching some show together. Oh, is the groundskeeper human? Someone’s been around the outside of the house recently, someone with magic, I think. Not your kind of magic.”
“Do we need to worry about it?” asked Gareth.
“No,” Raze answered. “The scent is old and stale, maybe from a week ago, or more.”
Lix cut in, voice sharp. “If it’s the groundskeeper, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t live on the property, remember? And he doesn’t work on weekends.”
“Just calling out what I picked up,” Raze said. “That’s what you sent me in for, right? So how are we taking out two vampires?”
“Finn gave me the idea, actually,” Lix replied. “I guess I should be thankful.” She dug a canister out of her backpack. “He mentioned tear gas, and I decided to play around with it a bit. This should knock them out temporarily, enough so I can get in and set the stasis spell upon them. Ben, you come with me. Everyone else stay here.”
Raze watched them prowl over to the window. There was a tinkle of broken glass, a small flash of green, and then she heard a low whistle. “That’s our cue,” Gareth said. The three of them went to join Ben and Lix, arriving just as Ben was unlocking the window, his long arm shoved awkwardly through the hole in the glass.
Ben was the first through, fingertips glowing green with what Raze imagined was one of his blasting spells. Lix went next. By the time Raze climbed through the ground-floor window, Lix was leaning over the slumped figures, muttering something as she poured from a glass bottle. Whatever she was pouring wasn’t liquid; it swirled in the air, settling over the vampires like a cloud.
Lix straightened. “It’s done. This should hold them for forty-eight hours. Let’s get them comfortable.”
Ben pushed the butler sideways onto the sofa, picking up his legs to settle him so he lay down fully. He set the housekeeper alongside her husband. They looked peaceful, as if they’d simply decided to take a nap. Gareth turned to Lix. “This stasis spell of yours, I don’t need to worry about stuff like food or water, right?”
“Right. They’ll wake up on Sunday evening as though no time had passed at all. Think Sleeping Beauty. Except these two don’t need a true love’s kiss to snap them out of it. The spell will wear off by itself.” She eyed the bandages on Gareth’s arm. “Will you be okay?”
“Aww, you care, Lixie!” Gareth snickered at the look on her face. “Go, on, get lost. Go do your thing. I’ll be fine. Look, they have cable. I’ll raid the kitchen and catch up on all the TV shows I never have time to watch. You want to leave all the coats here?”
They all peeled out of their winter jackets, and then Lix led the way through the house. The front door was reached through a low-ceilinged passageway. Lix reached up halfway through the passage and tapped the plasterwork. “This above us? This is the tower we need. My source says it can’t be accessed from inside the house. So we’ll go out front, and then it’s your turn, Raze.”
The front door had an impressive number of locks. Outside, the cold bit into Raze’s skin, and she shivered. She looked up, eyeing the walkway at the top of the tower. “So, you said this thing is glamoured. How do I know how tall it really is?”
Lix pulled out the stone Raze and Ben had gone to so much trouble to steal, the alexandrite. She held it up to Raze’s eye. Seen through the stone, the tower stretched upward, suddenly a good number of feet higher. Raze stared.
“How does it work?”
“The stone filters out the effect of illusion magic,” answered Lix. “It doesn’t counter it, just lets us see what’s real and what isn’t. We’ll need it inside, but I figured it would help us get there, too.” She passed the stone around so Ben and May could see it. “Like I said, the vault’s up there.”
Night Blade: Blade Hunt Chronicles Book Two Page 16
