Demons and DNA (Amplifier 1)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Chapter 7

  A shapeshifter was in my house. I had rolled off the bed and taken three steps to the door before I recognized the weak tenor of her magic.

  Constable Jenni Raymond.

  In my kitchen, as far as I could sense.

  Paisley let out a teeth-rattling snore, then rolled to take over my side of the bed. I’d slept heavily enough that I hadn’t felt her climb onto the bed without an invitation — a liberty I offered her only occasionally. Being near me for long periods of time had magical consequences. My amplification power leaked when I slept. The Collective had tracked my output while sleeping for years, inducing dreams, then nightmares, to see if that increased the volume of energy.

  It did.

  But I couldn’t remember dreaming anything the previous night.

  Exchanging bodily fluids with me had similar consequences, though what those consequences might be was more theoretical. The Collective hadn’t ordered me to have sex with anyone in order to track the results. Actually, they had actively discouraged fraternization among the Five. And the seven years I’d been out of their reach but still running hadn’t been conducive to forming any relationships, with mundanes or Adepts.

  I couldn’t begrudge Paisley crawling into bed with me, though. It had been years since we’d exerted ourselves as we had the previous night. In fact, taking down those demons was the most vicious skirmish she had ever faced.

  Unless she was a secret demon hunter. But I doubted that was the case, or the neighbors would have complained by now about all the missing cows.

  I laughed quietly.

  Paisley cracked one red-hued eye, huffing at me indignantly.

  “We have company,” I said. “And since when are you allowed on the bed?”

  She snorted, then tucked my abandoned pillow under her head as she burrowed deeper under the sheets and the rose-patterned quilt. The metal bed frame creaked.

  I shook my head, pulling a freshly ironed dress out of my closet and pairing it with a green cardigan that Hannah Stewart had said made my eyes glow. It was possible that the thrift-store owner occasionally caught glimpses of magic, just as it was possible that Aiden did. And I found, despite all my half-articulated resolutions to the contrary, that I wanted to look nice for the sorcerer.

  Seven years into my life as Emma Johnson, and I could still discover new things about myself.

  Jenni Raymond was perched on a stool with her elbows on the kitchen island, a steaming mug of coffee in hand, and her gaze on the sorcerer leaning next to the sink.

  She wasn’t in uniform.

  Her dark-brown hair was free from its usual bun, tousled around her neck and just brushing her shoulders. Her feet were bare, pink-painted toes curled around the metal cross brace of the stool. She was wearing an oversized white T-shirt over jeans.

  A men’s T-shirt.

  Aiden, also barefoot and wearing the charcoal henley again, was smiling thinly at something she was saying, sipping from his mug. He had obviously made coffee. Again. But this time, for the shapeshifter as well.

  She had spent the night. Some portion of it, at least.

  My stomach bottomed out, souring.

  Aiden glanced over at me, his smile widening.

  I’d been hovering in the doorway like an interloper. In my own house. A slow simmer of anger replaced the hollow in my stomach.

  Jenni Raymond followed Aiden’s gaze, spotting me and stiffening her spine.

  Honestly, I’d never met such a useless Adept. She should have heard me coming down the stairs. I forced myself to be polite. “Good morning.”

  “Oh, hey, Emma.” Jenni’s tone was edged with a false cheer. “We were just discussing last night.”

  I leveled a gaze at the sorcerer.

  His smile gave way to a furrow of his brow. Then he glanced over at Jenni and his expression shuttered.

  I stepped onto the tile, reclaiming my kitchen for myself as I crossed toward the fridge.

  Jenni’s expression turned wary. Her shoulders remained stiff.

  I grabbed the apple juice, stepping back to close the door after setting the jug on the island.

  Aiden reached up over his shoulder, opening the glassed cupboard behind him to reveal my four crystal water glasses. I reached past him, taking a glass.

  He leaned almost imperceptibly into my space, and I paused to meet his soul-piercing gaze.

  “You look lovely this morning,” he murmured.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but found it increasingly difficult to hold on to my anger at having my home invaded.

  A smile ghosted over his face as Aiden settled his gaze back on his mug, taking a deliberate sip of coffee — as if he knew how enamored I was by the way the muscles in his neck shifted and moved when he did so.

  I carried the glass over to the island, pouring myself some apple juice, then leaning back on the opposite side of the sink from Aiden, sipping.

  “What about last night?” I asked calmly.

  Jenni Raymond’s light-brown gaze flicked between me and Aiden. Both of us remained silent as we sipped our drinks.

  “I was on duty last night when the Wilsons heard a roar and then a kerfuffle in their back field.”

  Paisley.

  Jenni Raymond set her mug on the island. “They called it in, thinking it was a cougar snatching one of their calves.”

  “But none of the calves are missing,” I said. Not quite a question.

  “No. But the envelope in the mailbox with the cash in it, indicating that a cow had been taken, was a dead giveaway. I presume the Wilsons will find the cash and get a head count of the herd this morning. Then they’ll call the station with an update.”

  “But you think you’ve already put it together, do you?” I asked coolly. “Did you actually use your nose, shifter?”

  Jenni Raymond stood up abruptly, knocking her stool over behind her.

  Aiden set his coffee mug down on the counter beside the sink.

  I didn’t bother freeing my hands up. I could take the shifter without spilling a drop of juice. And I made certain she knew that every time I looked at her. “I hope you haven’t chipped my tile or dented my stool. In my home. Into which you were not invited.”

  Jenni Raymond lifted her chin defiantly. “I was invited. By Christopher. It’s his house too.”

  I glanced over at Aiden. He dipped his chin in a shallow nod.

  I laughed harshly. “Caught him in the act, did you? Depositing the cash in the mailbox?”

  There was no way she’d snuck up on the clairvoyant. Meaning he must have revealed himself to her for some reason. I’d thought she was wearing Aiden’s T-shirt, which was actually Christopher’s, of course. My initial assessment of the tableau waiting for me in the kitchen had been emotionally tainted. That slip in perspective was another reason that having the sorcerer around was dangerous.

  The shifter had slept over. Just down the hall from me, I presumed. With Christopher, not Aiden. Her already dim magic would have been easily overridden by the clairvoyant’s constantly simmering power. And I had slept heavily.

  I stalked forward, topping up my glass of juice with slow deliberation. “So not only did you not actually use your nose to solve the supposed crime, you screwed the suspect.”

  “It’s hardly a crime if you pay for it. There was fifteen hundred dollars and an apology in that envelope. I checked.”

  “Oh, you checked?” I laughed. “As part of your investigation? Or was that the precursor to the sex?”

  She snarled. “Why the hell do you hate me so much?”

  I shrugged. “You’re an unnecessary complication in our lives. A complication that, given your early-morning appearance in our kitchen, has now turned into a liability. Denying your magic doesn’t make you strong, Jenni Raymond. It weakens you. And any weakness that can be used against you can now be used against us. Against Christopher. If someone tries to come for us, they’ll use you, then roll right over you.”

  Jenni clenched and unc
lenched her hands. Then she shook her head defiantly. “That just sounds like a shitload of garbage. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were acting like a jealous bitch. You’re Christopher’s sister, not his keeper.”

  “Actually,” Christopher drawled, “Emma is my keeper.” His voice pulled my attention to the doorway to the hall, where the clairvoyant stood in a navy-blue T-shirt and dark-washed jeans. “The brother-and-sister designations just make our relationship more … relatable for others.” He padded across the tile over to me, barefoot as always, stealing my glass and draining the remaining juice.

  Jenni Raymond watched him, a confused twist of emotions playing over her face.

  Christopher refilled the glass, passing it back to me and crossing around to set the empty pitcher in the sink. “Good morning, Aiden.”

  “Christopher.”

  “Scrambled or fried?”

  Aiden inclined his head toward me. “Emma? Eggs?”

  “Soft boiled,” I said. “Lightly salted and peppered, over tomato slices.”

  “Oh!” Christopher moved toward the fridge. “Maybe I should give that cheese sauce another try, with less flour in the roux.”

  Jenni Raymond picked up the stool, checking it for damage and setting it down at the island. She glanced toward the front of the house as if thinking of leaving. Then she reached for her mug and took a sip of her coffee.

  She was staying.

  That was interesting.

  “How’s Paisley?” Christopher asked, stepping around me as he grabbed ingredients and kitchen implements.

  “Snoring.”

  He laughed. “Yes, I heard.” He glanced at me sideways, giving me an opening to mention anything about what I might have also heard last night.

  I checked his eyes, finding no magic simmering within them. He looked relaxed, present. Christopher didn’t take sexual partners often. And like me, he rarely selected one from the pool of the magically inclined. Still, I was exceedingly surprised that he’d chosen Jenni Raymond. For multiple reasons.

  “What can I do to help with breakfast?” Aiden asked.

  “Toast,” Christopher said. “Melissa left a sourdough of some sort in the stand yesterday. Rye, maybe.”

  I stepped to the side, clearing the kitchen for Christopher and Aiden. It was none of my business who either of them slept with. Christopher’s flings rarely lasted more than a couple of days. But if Jenni Raymond was going to start making regular appearances in my kitchen, I definitely wanted some ground rules in place.

  A conversation for later.

  I opted to set the table with napkins and cutlery instead. The shifter settled back down on a stool.

  Then Christopher’s head suddenly snapped up, his magic flaring. The white cheddar he’d been grating tumbled from his hands.

  Aiden caught it before it hit the ground.

  I took a step back, then to the side, moving away from the magic that felt as though it was questing across the kitchen toward me.

  “What the hell?” Jenni Raymond muttered.

  His back stiff, Christopher slowly pivoted his head to look at me. The white of his magic ebbed, so that it only ringed his light-gray eyes. He smiled. “Fish.”

  “What?” Jenni asked.

  Aiden held his hand up to silence her, his attention trained on me. She shut her mouth, but she clearly didn’t like having been ordered around.

  “Do I need my blades?” I asked calmly, though my insides were churning.

  Christopher laughed, magic heavy in his voice. “Soon and always, Socks. But not this morning.”

  The magic of the blood tattoo on my spine shifted, tingling as if waking up. I reached back over my shoulder, pressing my fingers to the tattoo on my T1 vertebra — Nul5’s blood, anchoring his magic to me. A tattoo that had been dormant for over seven years.

  “It can’t be a coincidence,” I murmured.

  “Of course not.” Christopher laughed, his tone still remote, speaking into the future. “Have you been trying to convince yourself of that, Socks? Nothing is a coincidence. We take each step, endlessly moving to where we were always going.”

  He walked away, heading for the front door.

  I rested my gaze on Aiden, suddenly achingly sorry for everything I thought we might have been building between us. Everything that was about to be torn down before it was strong enough to survive the revelations of my past.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  Aiden frowned questioningly.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jenni asked.

  “I suggest you use the back door, shifter,” I said, not taking my gaze from Aiden.

  “Like hell I will,” she snarled, standing up and following Christopher. “I’m not here by your leave.”

  I laughed a little shakily.

  The shifter exited into the hall.

  “I gather she isn’t going to like whoever is about to come through the front door,” Aiden said.

  “I don’t know, actually. I don’t know him at all. Not anymore.”

  “Am I going to need my bat?”

  I sighed. “It wouldn’t work against him.”

  “A bat can be a very effective weapon, magic or no magic.”

  I laughed in spite of myself.

  I heard Christopher fling open the front door, banging it hard against the stopper. Footsteps sounded on the patio, then laughter and back slapping.

  I glanced over at Aiden. “I need you at the far side of the counter, please.”

  He stepped back, placing the long length of the island’s quartz counter between him and the doorway — and tugging a chef’s knife off the cutting board across with him, so that it lay within easy reach.

  I stepped around the other side of the counter, situating myself directly in line with the front door. Still laughing, Christopher wandered toward me down the length of the fir-floored corridor with his arm slung across the broad shoulders of a dark-haired man. The newcomer was dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket that I didn’t doubt came with a motorcycle. One he’d most likely parked by the road, so that he could cross onto the property undetected. At least until my blood tattoo had alerted me that he was near, just as his tattoo would have picked up the presence of my magic.

  Daniel Jones.

  Fish.

  A nullifier.

  One of the Five.

  Daniel laid his light-brown-eyed gaze on me. He’d kept his hair cropped short. And he had bulked up, as men apparently did in their late twenties. The smile faded from his face. His gaze flicked over my shoulder and to the left, taking in Aiden, then settling back on me. His features had broadened as well, leaving only a hint of whatever Asian heritage came with the genetic composition the Collective had used to cook the nullifier up.

  My chest tightened at that thought.

  Daniel dropped his arm from Christopher, stepping to the side.

  Jenni Raymond hovered in the background behind the two reunited men, completely forgotten.

  “Are we going to fight, Amp5?” Daniel asked mockingly.

  “No,” Christopher moaned, pained.

  I stalked forward, my anger at having my home invaded by a shifter completely stoked by Daniel’s appearance. He wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near either me or Christopher. His presence — and specifically, having all three of us in one place — was capable of drawing way too much attention.

  I smiled, feeling the false expression taking over my face as I lifted my arms to the sides, offering an embrace.

  Daniel fell for it, stepping forward.

  I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, fingers over the blood tattoo that bound him to me. I yanked him against me, pressing my lips to his ear.

  He gripped my shoulders harshly.

  “Please, no,” Christopher whispered.

  “You want Amp5?” I snarled, low and fierce, for Daniel’s ears only. “You’ve got her.”

  He twisted, spinning and slamming me back against the wall. His magic spread dow
n from where he gripped my arms, numbing me.

  “Fuck!” Jenni shouted, darting around Christopher. He grabbed her arm and held her back.

  I reached for the nullifier’s power, gathering it swiftly under the fingers I still held against his tattoo.

  Daniel gasped, shuddering. He released my arms, holding his hands out to the sides.

  I held his magic at the back of his neck but stopped gathering it. The power that fueled the nullifier was as heavy and thick as it had ever been. Maybe even more so.

  I met his fierce gaze. “You shouldn’t be here,” I said. “You put Christopher in jeopardy by being here. I won’t have it.”

  “Always so cautious,” he murmured, his gaze falling to my mouth. “So careful.” He grinned deviously. “Until pushed.”

  He grabbed my face, slamming a harsh kiss against my mouth. I bit him, catching his lower lip.

  He snarled, half laughing, half pained.

  I released his lip, kneeing him between the legs instead.

  He stumbled, groaning.

  I stomped on his foot, smashing an open palm across his ear.

  Daniel fell, holding his genitals.

  I snarled down at him. “You don’t have permission to touch me.”

  Christopher stepped in between us. “Please, please, Socks.”

  “I’m not the one who attacked first.”

  Daniel rolled over onto his back and started laughing. “You did, actually.”

  Christopher glared down at him. “She didn’t. We don’t use those names in this house, in this life.” He stalked off toward Jenni Raymond, who was still hovering in the doorway. Then he escorted her out of the kitchen and through the front door.

  Daniel remained sprawled at my feet, gazing up at me. “So you missed me then, Socks?”

  I stepped around him, crossing back into the kitchen so that the width of the island was between us. For the nullifier’s protection, not my own. I was having a difficult time reining in my anger.

  Daniel laughed, rolling into a crouch and eyeing Aiden.

  The sorcerer’s gaze was inscrutable. He hadn’t moved from where I’d asked him to stand.