During a momentary lull in their staccato blast of recollections, Amanda took a deep breath and sat back from her hunched position over the unsteady writing surface. The folding chairs that accompanied the cheap card table were of similar poor quality, and she squirmed to restore the circulation in her legs.
She mentally apologized to the moon shrine for intruding upon its healing process with such crass furnishings and foreign human energies. It wasn’t accident or frugality that had inspired her to find second-hand wooden bookshelves and a workbench that she had re-purposed as her altar. She felt strongly that her moon shrine needed organic materials and a consistent application of her personal energy for it to resonate with her workings and function at its peak.
Noreen had helped her cleanse the space, but Amanda would be mostly responsible for rebuilding the spiritual fortifications that strengthened and protected it. When she opened herself up to the energy of the room, it was still raw and unsettled. More than anything else that the dark coven had destroyed, she mourned losing the sense of comfort and potential that used to embrace her when she entered her moon shrine.
“Earth to Amanda,” Kyle said, touching her arm and drawing her out of her reverie. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just got distracted for a minute.”
Noreen’s expression softened, and she gave a slight knowing nod. “Give it time, Amanda. Your moon shrine will recover.”
“Looks great to me,” Kyle said, looking around. “Almost like nothing happened. It’s even a little cleaner if you don’t mind my saying so.”
“Your eyes don’t see the real damage,” Noreen said in a disapproving tone. “Amanda poured much of herself into this space. That presence has been stripped away and can never truly be replaced. It will always be different now.”
Amanda wanted to deny her mentor’s claim, but she knew Noreen was right. She was a different woman now, and her restored moon shrine would reflect the energies of the woman she’d become.
Noreen noted her expression of disappointment. “Different can be good, Amanda. You’ll be uncomfortable for a while, but what you build here will reflect a more mature and more powerful self. You’ll see. In time, it will be an even better match for you than it was before.”
“Hey, it could be worse,” Kyle added. “The whole place almost burned down.”
Amanda’s initial frown at Kyle’s flippant remark turned into a laugh. “Good point. I should be thankful I still have something to rehabilitate.”
Kyle’s encouraging smile faded and was replaced by a serious expression. “Being thankful is good, but I still have a bone to pick with whoever left that frog for you and tried to burn us up in our sleep.”
Noreen leveled a stern look at Kyle. “You need to purge ideas of revenge from your head right now. Let the Order deal with them. It’s what we do.”
“You keep forgetting I’m part of the Order now,” Kyle said bitterly. “And no one knows better than me what we’re up against.”
Noreen sat back and folded her arms. “You literally only know the half of it. I’ll concede that your near-werewolf experience uniquely qualifies you to understand certain aspects of our enemies, but the dark coven is another matter.”
Kyle seemed unconvinced. Amanda put a hand on his arm before he could argue further. “She’s right, Kyle. We’re contending with lupusdaemons and dark magic. Fighting them will take expertise in both subjects.” She hoped he would catch on to her subtext: that between the two of them, they did have expertise in both subjects.
Kyle gave her a long look. A sly smirk would have alerted Noreen to their private communication, but Kyle was good at maintaining a neutral expression. Even Amanda had trouble reading him at times. True to her expectation, all he said was, “I understand.”
Noreen narrowed her eyes at them, suspicious of Kyle’s easy capitulation. Amanda sighed to herself, knowing the two of them would find something else to argue about soon enough.
Footsteps thumped up the treads of the attic stairway, and Jonathan appeared at the door to the moon shrine. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Please, do interrupt,” Amanda said. Alerted by her wry tone, Jonathan glanced at Kyle and Noreen, observing their annoyed expressions. He was no stranger to their bickering.
Staying at the doorway, Jonathan appeared reluctant to intrude. Amanda guessed that Jessie might have warned him to avoid the moon shrine as much as possible while it was still being restored. She appreciated his consideration.
“The forensics team just contacted me. They have a match on the saliva in Mike’s wounds. It was Fenris Kellen.”
“That bastard lawyer has finally gone too far,” Noreen said with venom in her voice.
Kyle appeared puzzled. “You have Kellen’s DNA?”
“That’s a requirement of the treaty,” Jonathan confirmed. “Every paranormal submits to DNA collection as a sign of good faith.”
“So what happens now?” Kyle asked. “Do you arrest him?”
“That depends upon what the director decides,” Jonathan answered. His voice turned cold. “Personally, I’m hoping we have enough proof for a termination mandate.”
“What’s that?” Kyle asked.
“Shoot on sight.”
Kyle blinked a couple of times. “We can do that? Without any kind of trial?”
Jonathan frowned at Kyle. “When we have solid evidence of a demon killing humans, a trial is at the director’s discretion. Mike sure didn’t get much opportunity for justice before he had his throat torn out.”
“Sorry,” Kyle said, putting up his hands in surrender at Jonathan’s defensive tone. “I’m just trying to understand how things work. I know Mike was your friend, and I sure won’t shed any tears over Fenris Kellen’s grave.”
Jonathan huffed out a breath in frustration. “What sucks is that the grave won’t be the demon’s. Killing the body only sends it back to the abyss.”
“It can return?”
“Well, not easily, and probably not for a long time,” Jonathan conceded.
Noreen interrupted, looking down her nose at Kyle. “See? You don’t know as much about lupusdaemons as you think you do.”
Kyle flushed, but to Amanda’s relief, he didn’t respond to Noreen’s baiting.
“When will we know the director’s decision?” Amanda asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.
“I don’t know,” Jonathan answered. “Forensics submitted the case file to him, but I’ll bet he’ll want to consult with Blackstone before he decides on a course of action.”
“No doubt,” Noreen said. “Kellen is now part of a larger problem.”
“That’s an understatement,” Jonathan said. He lowered his voice, his tone going dark. “Blackstone has no intention of negotiating with the dark coven. When we move on them, it will be a fight, and all kinds of things can happen in the heat of battle. Termination mandate or not, I don’t intend to give Kellen a chance to surrender.”
Jonathan’s words chilled her, but Amanda didn’t blame him for his attitude. He’d taken the attack on the farm personally since it had threatened Jessie’s life and resulted in the death of a friend on his team. She just hoped Jonathan’s thirst for revenge wouldn’t impair his ability to lead his team effectively.
Chapter 17
Fair Warning
Marcella stood with her arms folded, staring down at her captive. Cyrus guarded the open door behind her. Cara had started to get up from her sleeping mat, but Marcella told the girl to remain seated. She wanted to retain the psychological advantage of standing over the young woman. The tactic seemed to work, as Cara returned her stare with wide eyes like a frightened mouse.
“Have you thought about my offer?” Marcella asked.
Cara squirmed, drawing her legs under her. “I would be honored to learn from you,” she answered, her voice trailing off.
“But?”
“May I ask some questions first?”
“You may a
sk …” Marcella responded, her tone indicating that she might not answer.
Cara opened her mouth a couple of times to speak, but clamped it shut again. She finally mustered the courage to ask her first question. “If I join your coven, won’t that make me an enemy of the Order?”
Marcella’s mouth twitched into a sardonic smile. “You mean, like I am? Yes, the Order have meddled in our affairs many times. We usually manage to avoid them. When we don’t, they pay for it dearly.”
“You aren’t afraid of them?”
Marcella laughed. “The Order is not all-powerful. I’d be foolish not to respect their influence, and fear is a useful tool when it keeps you alert. However, I’ve learned how to deal with them. The Order tends to put down roots and settle in. The best way to stay out of their reach is to keep moving.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
You have no idea, Marcella thought. Her coven had been following the “keep-moving” strategy for far too long. It was time to change things, and forging an alliance with the werewolves was the first step. But to Cara, she said, “You get used to it. After a while, it feels strange to stay in one place too long.”
After a moment of silence and more squirming, Cara asked, “Would I have to kill people?”
Marcella’s eyebrows rose. “Only to defend the coven. The fact that you are sitting here alive is proof of that.”
Cara’s face turned red. “I’m alive because I didn’t burn up in the house you set on fire.”
“And then you left,” Marcella answered reasonably. “That shows you weren’t part of the Order’s conspiracy to destroy lupusdaemons.”
“Conspiracy?” Cara responded with a confused expression. “I don’t think there’s a conspiracy. The exorcism was Amanda’s personal project. The Order only got involved when Kyle asked for sanctuary.”
Ah, so Cara knew more than she’d been letting on. How much more could Marcella prompt from her? “And now? The Order has formed up to protect both Kyle and Amanda from the consequences of her actions.”
Cara shrugged. “She’s one of them. And now, so is Kyle. Of course they’re going to protect their own.”
Marcella liked the way Cara consistently spoke of the Order as “them” instead of “us.” She had been watching carefully for slips during their conversations that might indicate Cara was not who she claimed to be. It was still possible that the Order had dangled Cara as bait and that she was really on a mission for the Order.
“What about the rest of your coven? If you weren’t involved in the exorcism, why did the Order offer you sanctuary?”
“They were just being careful,” Cara said, and once again Marcella had the impression the girl was leaving something out. Cara’s voice went sour as she added, “They called it ‘protective custody.’”
A wise precaution, considering Marcella had indeed gone to visit the residences of the Gold Ridge Coven’s members, only to discover that they had already been swept up and moved to Hayworth Farm.
“All things considered, you probably should have been more appreciative of the Order’s protection.”
Cara sighed and looked down. “I guess. But it was too crowded, and after the fire, I felt like a sitting duck.”
“I’m surprised they let you leave.”
“I didn’t ask for permission. I snuck out. I knew that Blackstone guy wouldn’t allow it, and Noreen would find a way to talk me out of it.”
The name “Blackstone” shocked Marcella like she’d touched the hot wire on a livestock fence. Her heart started pounding so hard that she could hear her own pulse. A sharp intake of breath from behind her told her Cyrus had also recognized the name. Reeling internally, she carefully controlled her voice and her expression. “Who did you say wouldn’t allow you to leave?”
“Some creepy guy named Blackstone. He seemed to be the one in charge.”
“Tell me what he looks like,” Marcella demanded.
Cara blinked in surprise. “Okay … uh … he’s tall and thin and wears black all the time.”
“What about his face?”
Cara paused to think. “His eyes are blue, or maybe gray, and he has a thin beard that makes it look like he always needs a shave. His hair is dark and thinning.”
“How long has he been there?”
“I’m not sure. He was already at the farm when I arrived. I heard he showed up and took over the investigation right after Amanda’s moon shrine was destroyed.”
Marcella narrowed her eyes at the term “moon shrine.” Amanda had apparently given her altar room a name. How quaint.
“What has Blackstone been doing all this time? Did he put out the fire?”
Cara’s expression grew contemplative. “Why do you care so much about Blackstone?”
“Answer the question!” Marcella shouted, taking a step forward.
Cara cowered back against the wall in response to the vehemence in Marcella’s voice. “We put out the fire. I mean, my coven did. Blackstone wasn’t there.”
Realizing that her agitation regarding Blackstone was revealing her fear to the prisoner, Marcella relaxed her posture and quieted her voice. “Where was he?”
“How would I know? He just disappears sometimes. I’ve heard Noreen complain about it.”
So Blackstone had been in the area for days, knowing that the Red Claw Coven was nearby. All this time, she thought she’d been playing cat and mouse with Amanda’s coven and a small team of the Order’s soldiers. It made her skin crawl to think about how close she would have been to Blackstone were he at the farm the night she set the fire. Luckily, he was somewhere else. But where?
Blackstone’s presence changed everything. It was only a matter of time before he devised a plan of attack and came after her. She had to set up some kind of trap for him … or take a more direct approach. She’d always been better at offense than defense: her strike-and-disappear tactics were difficult to anticipate or counter. They’d certainly done a good job of keeping her alive so far, except this time she didn’t want to disappear afterward. She needed time to think.
Meanwhile, Cara was giving her a speculative look that she didn’t care for.
“You’re running out of time to make up your mind,” Marcella warned in a calm but deadly tone. “You have until my next visit to figure out what you want.” She turned and started for the door.
“What happens if I choose not to join your coven?” Cara asked.
“Nothing good,” Marcella answered as she exited the room.
Chapter 18
Under Observation
Adolphus Rutlinger poured himself a glass of red wine—his third of the afternoon. He hesitated as he raised the goblet to his lips, half tempted to throw it across the room. He sighed and took a sip instead, knowing the mess would accomplish nothing and he would only end up pouring another.
Allowing Marcella to take over was disgraceful. He should have challenged her, even if it meant losing and returning to the abyss.
No. That must not happen.
All the work he’d put into the Rutlinger Foundation would be destroyed. He needed to be patient. Marcella would make a mistake at some point, and the Order would take care of her for him.
But the wait was excruciating. In the meantime, she was undermining his authority and subverting his pack. Skyler was still his, but Fenris had joined Marcella’s exorcism crusade. The lawyer’s betrayal was not out of character, but his support for any authority figure certainly was. Adolphus sourly admitted to himself that perhaps Fenris had been waiting for the right leader. If that was the case, good riddance.
The ringing phone interrupted his thoughts. He walked to the corner table where the phone rested and lifted the handset. “Hello?”
“Adolphus. So good to hear your voice. I take it you are still allowed to answer the phone?”
Rutlinger cringed, recognizing the mocking voice of David Bonham, alpha of the Colville Pack in Eastern Washington. “News travels fast.”
David chuckled across th
e line. “The wonders of modern technology, my ancient friend. It is a miracle to those of us who remember when the four-paws network was the speediest way to move information.”
“Indeed. I sometimes miss those days. What can I do for you, David, or did you call just to harass me?”
“Come now, Adolphus. Your sense of humor is failing you. I know what you’re up to, so you don’t have to pretend for my sake. Your new alpha is attracting a lot of attention with her mission. If she succeeds, she’ll have the respect of every pack in the world, but if she fails … well, let’s just say it would be best not to be the one in charge.”
Adolphus didn’t think it would make much difference who was in charge. The repercussions of Marcella’s actions would engulf everyone near her, guilty or not. At some point, she would call upon the entire Pack for support and suck all of them into her mad plans. A strong sense of foreboding warned him that the time was rapidly approaching.
At that moment, Marcella entered the living room with Cyrus in tow. Her unfocused eyes and a deep frown revealed that something had disturbed her.
“Marcella is here now,” Adolphus said into the handset, “if you would like to speak to her.”
“Yes, please put her on,” David replied.
Marcella focused on Adolphus and narrowed her eyes. “Who is it?”
He held the handset out toward her. “David Bonham of the Colville Pack.”
Marcella’s face cleared, and she eagerly snatched the handset. “Thanks for getting back to me so quickly, David.”
She glanced toward Adolphus upon hearing David’s response. “The pack leaders didn’t like my proposal?”
David’s answer put a smile on her face. Marcella had contacted all of the northwest werewolf packs, proposing an alliance with herself as an ambassador of sorts. It was a thinly disguised bid to position herself as queen of the alliance, and it would give her all the protection she needed from the Order’s hunters.
“That’s good news,” Marcella said. “I’m sure they won’t regret their decision.”
Demon Witch (The Ternion Order Book 2) Page 13
