Light and Shadow

by Patti Larsen

  She had to know I didn’t go looking for Dad without her on purpose. But I guess it would seem that way.

  One more conversation I had to have.

  Charlotte hovered at my side while the big dog sat on his haunches, red fire flickering in his eyes. “What do you need?”

  “To find Rosetta.” I quickly sketched out my plan. “I’m hoping she’ll lead me to other members of the Chosen. I need one of their sorcerers.”

  Charlotte twitched a little, but Galleytrot nodded. “You’re thinking one of them can help?”

  “I need another crystal.” The big dog grunted. “If I’m right, having one could give us the advantage we need.” I reached out and scratched his big head. “I know you hate to leave Liam right now,” I said, “but I need to find her.”

  “I agree,” he said. “As distasteful as she and her sect are. Though you recall there wasn’t much left of their order when we scattered them last time.”

  “I know,” I said. They’d taken it on themselves to work with the Dumonts, to kidnap Sassafras when he was still in mortal form. Mom and I made sure they would never have the nerve to come together again. Still, I refused to believe someone as fanatical as Rosetta with her absolute hate for other witches, though she herself had our power, would ever give up entirely. “Do you remember her scent?”

  He shook his big head, fur rippling, though not in the negative. “I do,” he said. “But it would be better refreshed, if we can manage it.”

  Only one place to go to give his nose what it needed. I dreaded returning to the Morgan’s big house, the memories of my former best friend, Alison, still clinging. How I’d failed her and left her to exist in a half-life of the ghostly monster she’d become. But this was too important for me to let something like grief and heartbreak stop me.

  Way to be a trooper, Syd.

  The black dog and my wereguard at my side, I paused at the entry to the archive. Liam looked up, Trill back behind the laptop, Meira and Owen looking through the stacks while Sassafras had returned to his seat.

  “We’re going out,” I said, purposely vague. “Hopefully we won’t be long.”

  Liam hesitated before smiling. A strained smile. But when his eyes touched on first Charlotte then Galleytrot, he relaxed a little. Probably because I had so much firepower at my back.

  “Keep us posted.”

  Trill looked up, the light from the screen reflecting on her glasses, hiding her eyes. “I need to see the chamber under the mansion.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I think you might be right. That it could help us. Why else would Iepa lead you there?”

  “I’ll take you when I get back,” I said, using my best Mom tone. Yeah, I pulled out the Mom tone. But the rebellion in Trill’s whole body told me I had to do something. “Every time you leave this cavern, there’s a chance the Brotherhood could track you. So we’ll keep travels to a minimum, got me? Trill, we’re just trying to keep you safe.” Why didn’t she understand that?

  “What about your coven?” Trill dropped her arms, hands fisted on either side of the computer. “And the vampires? The longer we stay here, the more danger they are in and you know it.”

  Ah. My final bright light moment of the day came in a jab of sympathy. Anger hid fear and guilt inside the maji girl. How many people had she seen hurt or killed because of her and her brother? Had they trusted others to keep them safe in the past, only to fail, to fall? It seemed very likely.

  “Iepa wouldn’t have sent you to us, your Nona wouldn’t have, if they didn’t think this was the right thing to do.” No more Mom. Just me, all gentle, reaching for her with my power.

  To my surprise, Trill reached back as her hands unclenched, shoulders shaking a little as she drew a harsh breath. Her maji magic connected with mine, the touch tenuous, but present as she spoke.

  I can’t live with it, she sent, her mental voice near a sob. If anything were to happen… I won’t be able to forgive myself.

  You’re forgetting, I sent back, hugging her gently with my power. I’m one of you. Maji. And we have to stick together.

  A little smile, wavering and thin, but present. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll try it your way. But I won’t stay trapped here forever.”

  Fair enough. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Hopefully with a weapon we can use against the Brotherhood.”

  As I turned to go, I sent a tight link to Liam.

  Watch her. Just in case.

  I was through the wards before he could answer, but had no doubt he took my warning to heart.

  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Morgan mansion towered over us in the darkness, empty and lifeless. It was clear from the dirt on the windows, normally polished and cared for, as well as the untidiness of the typically flawless grounds, no one lived here for quite some time. Not since Alison died, I was guessing. With Angela living in New York with her husband, Roger, the big house sat alone and tragic, the bones of a broken family left to rot.

  Alison was never far from my thoughts, and I tried many times to track her. But despite my efforts, I was never able to find her, not since she sampled blood for the first time, her echo enhanced by the power of the vampire essence inside me, thanks to Ameline’s meddling. I could only imagine Alison found the taste to her liking. And since she no longer pursued me for the power I had inside me, it was clear she didn’t think she needed it—or me—anymore.

  Talk about give me nightmares. Even the vampires didn’t know what drinking blood would do to a ghost, especially one fed by her magic. Hard to guess when it had never happened before.

  Moving on. I had a job to do, and Alison wasn’t part of it. Or, at least, I didn’t think she was. My skin rippled into gooseflesh as I magically picked the lock to the kitchen door and let myself in, passing over the threshold with the sudden worry this must be where Alison had been hiding out all along.

  But no, again, nothing. If she was here, she didn’t show herself and, from the snuffling Galleytrot was doing, he wasn’t finding much either.

  “This family is long gone,” he rumbled in the dark of the extravagant kitchen, big paws resting on the marble counter top as he rose up on his hind legs to touch his nose to its surface. “How sad to only catch the oldest of scents where once this house was alive with them.”

  He had to go there, didn’t he? I snuffled a little, but refused to let my sadness get the better of me.

  “Rosetta?” It came out like a pointed stick, sharp and precise. But Galleytrot showed no indication I’d hurt his feelings, instead absorbing my grief-fed anger without a word.

  He hopped down, head swaying back and forth as he crossed the kitchen to a small cupboard, like a closet, tall and thin. A pass of his paw flipped it open, revealing a cream-colored sweater inside.

  The cable-knit looked familiar. In fact, wasn’t it the same sweater we’d used last time to track the traitor witch? Galleytrot buried his face in the fabric, drawing a deep breath before spinning his big body toward me. Red fire burned deep in his eyes, casting a glow around him as he shuddered and growled low in his throat.

  “I have her,” he said in his voice like rolling thunder. “But she’s far, far from here.”

  “You can’t run the whole way,” I said. “We take the veil.”

  He grunted, as though to protest, then nodded. “We could lose her that way, waste time. But I’ll do my best.”

  “Might I suggest,” Charlotte said as we left the house, locking it behind us, feeling as though if I left it open I’d be adding to my betrayal, “we try to link Sydlynn to your nose using magic?” I stared at her, Galleytrot too, before laughing.

  “Little slow on the uptake.” I smacked my forehead with my palm and grinned at the big hound. “I can use air magic to tie into your sense of smell. You should be able to use it to find her no matter where she is.”

  “Will I be able to smell her in the veil?” He seemed more optimistic, licking Charlotte’s hand in thanks.

  “I don
’t know.” I shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  It was a brilliant idea, really. Took us a bit to figure it out, I admit. And the first time I dumped us outside the veil, I received matching glares from Galleytrot and Charlotte while water soaked my jeans from the knees down as we appeared in the cold water of a stream.

  “What?” I hopped out and used some water magic to shed the moisture before helping them both dry off the same way. “This is new. Give me a break already.”

  Turned out Galleytrot couldn’t smell inside the veil, but was able to point us in the right direction. After a few tries, we were sailing along nicely, slipping in and out, changing direction as needed.

  And we needed to. I’m not sure what Rosetta had been up to since I saw her last, but we visited several houses where she’d obviously taken up residence, all of decreasing attractiveness in gradually depreciating neighborhoods. Then apartments, also growing more run down until we finally emerged on a dark street, one light in the distance the only illumination, the moon long set as the deepest part of the night took hold. I sidestepped a pile of refuse in the short, ugly alley outside a squat building covered in spray-paint artwork, the front windows mostly boarded up, the brick itself covered in graffiti.

  “This is the place,” Galleytrot muttered. “Even through this offal, I can smell her.” He paused, head lifted. “She is here, Syd.”

  Well, finally. “Where the hell are we?”

  Charlotte shrugged, eyes everywhere. “Does it matter?” She’d grown increasingly tense as our surroundings degraded. She now looked like if anyone appeared and even glanced my way they’d be taking their lives into their own hands. “Let’s move.”

  Funny how bossy she became when she thought I might be in trouble.

  Galleytrot surged ahead, following his nose into the alley way while Charlotte gently prodded me to keep moving. It was warm out, much warmer than I was used to, humidity levels making me sweat. We had to be somewhere further south. Charlotte’s encouragement added to the annoyance I felt as my temperature rose, inside and out. I almost told her to cut it out, but left well enough alone. This wasn’t the time to stand around arguing with my bodywere.

  That I would save for later.

  The black hound disappeared into the shadows, my demon enhancing my vision as I passed from the edge of the light and into the darkness. He was clearly visible ahead, one paw reaching out to impact a steel door, surface running with rust, but firmly bolted.

  “Through here.”

  I made quick work of the lock, letting it swing inward onto a dark hall lit only by the exit light as Galleytrot took the lead again before I could enter. Smelling a conspiracy, I scowled back at Charlotte and wondered when they had the chance to decide I’d be sandwiched between them the entire time.

  The quick gleam of guilt in her eyes told me she knew I was on to them.

  They were both going to have a very stern talking to when this was over.

  Something squealed and dashed over my right foot. I leaped back, a little shriek of horror escaping. Just a rat, yes. But seriously.

  Yuckamundo.

  At least there was light up ahead, cold fluorescent casting a vile greenish glow on everything. Galleytrot was already moving up the stairs at the end of the hall, nails clicking on the industrial tile, chipped and filthy. My foot slipped a little on a patch of something wet, but I refused to stop and examine what I’d stepped in.

  Double yuckorama.

  Three flights we climbed, to the top of the building, before emerging into a dankly carpeted hallway, the smell of mold and urine, animal and human mixed together burning my nose, peeling wallpaper barely holding up the plaster, more graffiti mingling with water stains, one section of the ceiling bowed downward as though ready to collapse at any moment. I sidestepped the spot, avoiding whatever was up there, not even wanting to think about it falling on me.

  I so needed a shower. Just being there made me feel dirty.

  A door creaked open beside me and I had a view of a startled face before it slammed shut again. Obviously, the neighbors here had no desire to ask questions. Perfect.

  Galleytrot stopped at last at the end of the hall, the final door on the left, and turned to face me, eyes still glowing, eerie red flickering lights calling me onward. I reached his side with Charlotte crowding my back as the big dog sank to his haunches.

  “Here,” he said, voice low. “She is here. But Syd, she’s not alone.”

  I didn’t have to ask if he was sure. And while I would have loved to simply barge my way inside, I didn’t. Sure, the neighbors might seem like they wanted no part of anyone else’s business, but the last thing I needed was to have police show up and challenge me before I had what I wanted.

  Though I hesitated to touch the peeling gray paint on the warped wooden door, someone had to do it.

  A firm knock stirred movement inside the apartment. I waited, patience almost gone, as feet shuffled closer. The peephole was black, and I had to assume it no longer worked, because I was sure if Rosette knew who was on the other side of the door, there was no way she’d open it.

  Which she did, snatching the handle, popping the door back, glaring at us where she hunched, pale and thin, under a dirty shawl. The moment she saw me, her eyes widened and she back-pedaled, hissing and swearing at me in Spanish, making signs with her fingers as though to ward me away. I ignored her, pushing my way inside, the big dog crowding her out of our path while Charlotte softly closed the door behind us.

  It wasn’t until Rosetta had backed out of the short hall and into the open space beyond, I caught sight of the others. I recognized a few faces, though, like Rosetta, they were all shadows of themselves, gaunt and desperate, their fear of me as real as my hate for them.

  Or the hate I used to hold. As I stood there, eyes flickering from one fallen Chosen member to another, the dozen or so members crouched on rickety, sagging furniture, clutching each other in terror, my animosity faded, converting to regret and pity. Not empathy, I wasn’t ready to commiserate with them or anything. But I could at least feel sorry for how things had turned out.

  I couldn’t show weakness, not yet. If ever. I needed a crystal and being sympathetic would likely get me nowhere. So, mean bitch Syd it was.

  “Nice to see you, Rosetta.” No need for sarcasm. She got it.

  “You have no right to be here.” She stammered through her words. “You will leave us in peace now.”

  I shrugged. “I will,” I said, “when I have what I came for.”

  They shuddered as one, exchanged horrified glances. One woman’s eyes flickered to a doorway and back again. Interesting. Were they hiding something?

  What were they afraid I was after?

  “I need information.” I pinned Rosetta with a rope of family magic, not to hurt her, but so I could feel her power and know if she lied to me when she answered. I could also compel her to speak, though the thought of doing so turned my stomach.

  She spit on the floor at her feet, making another warding sign with her hands, but the gesture was weak and without power to back it. “I won’t tell you anything, evil one.”

  “You will.” Okay, I didn’t mean to squeeze her until she squeaked. Honest. But I was getting really freaking tired of being jerked around.

  Really, really.

  “Tell me about the Brotherhood.” I expected some kind of reaction from them, but certainly not the moan of terror, the scrambling of bodies, Rosetta’s wail of despair. Galleytrot and Charlotte both moved as the group scattered like rats, most running for a window and the iron fire escape outside, but I stopped them. A handful remained, faces buried in each other’s shoulders, their hysteria attacking me in a wave of overwhelming emotion.

  “It’s the end, don’t you see?” Rosetta fell to her knees, wringing her hands. “The end of everything. They will come with their army and destroy us all. All.”

  Well, as much as she sounded like she was babbling, at least she seemed to be in li
ne with what Iepa showed me.

  “You’re not tied to them?” I guess I wasn’t surprised. The Chosen hated all magic, though they were magic users themselves.

  Rosetta shook her head, turning her face away, bringing her shawl up to cover her weeping. And no matter how I pushed her, what I said, what magic I tried, she refused to speak, just crying and rocking.

  Galleytrot snuffled around as I stopped pushing the woman and tried to think. She was clearly broken. And none of the others seemed much better. It was hard to tell if any of them were sorcerers because they all felt equally empty.

  Leave it to the black dog to remind me what I’d suspected earlier.

  “Someone hides within.” He pawed at the door. A closet, had to be, too thin to lead to a room. “This scent… I know it, Syd.”

  As I turned to join him, Rosetta rose, shrieking incoherently, diving for me with her hands in claws of rage, even as Charlotte smoothly stepped in front of the woman and struck her with the side of her hand.

  Rosetta went down in a heap, eyes rolling back in her head, out cold. Charlotte grimaced, bending to wipe her hand on the woman’s shawl before turning to the others. They simply stared at us, hopeless and lost, as I grabbed the door handle and tugged it open.

  “Sydlynn,” Demetrius Strong said, his face still cherubic though in demon form. “How lovely to see you, my dear.”

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen

  He crouched in the back of the small closet, amber eyes alight with fire, body hunched and scrawny. His thin hands made grabbing motions before him as he smiled at me, white teeth flashing. The man who had led the Chosen, the powerful sorcerer who had tried to kill me twice and almost succeeded, was as wasted and pathetic as his followers.

  “Demetrius.” The last time I’d seen him, he’d fled with Batsheva. “Where’s your mistress?” If that old (b)witch was in on this, I’d be more than happy to make sure she ended up minus a head.

  He shuddered violently, tears welling in his eyes though his grin, now manic, never faded. “She’s gone, gone, gone, gone.” He shook like a dog coming out of water, falling to his backside and kicking his feet against the floor, dirty flip-flop sandals flying free. I winced, seeing him crack and break, knew, though he had been mad before, he was now truly insane. His previous madness at least lived behind a veneer of absolute civility, an almost cheerful crazy that creeped me out. This was worse. Not because it was icky, but because it was so gaping and raw, his mind an open wound in front of me, one that would never heal.