by Layla Nash
He wandered through the kitchen like a king surveying his domain. “Well. Aren’t we domestic?”
“This is the Remnant,” I said, irritated that my lousy welcome amused him. “What did you remember?”
“Yes. That.” He tested the table for shaky legs with a frown, peering at the floor and the cracked linoleum. “When I broke out, there were some bodies around the mansion and wounded as well, and this animal thing rolling in their blood. It grew with each attack. They were still trying to contain it when I left.”
My forehead thudded into the table. I really hoped that bag I’d hidden in the closet wasn’t the source of the demon. Maybe they forgot to destroy the demon focus I’d found at Anne Marie’s. “Great. Demons attacking the Peacemaker.”
“He wasn’t the Peacemaker for everyone.”
“Just because you two—”
“Not just me,” he interrupted. The bluster and bravado faded. Instead, a proud man worn down by years of servitude sat before me. “Most shifters fought for the Alliance because the humans wronged them, or because everyone had to pick a side, or because they just liked fighting. Not everyone signed up for a lifetime of cowering in front of that man. Not everyone is meant to take orders.”
“I don’t think—”
“Why haven’t you aligned?” Brandr spun his heavy Alliance ring across the table until it bumped my hand. “Soren’s anxious to get his paws on you, yet you’ve avoided it like an iron necklace. No goody two-shoes Glinda would walk away from that opportunity. So what does that make you?”
I concentrated on the soft gold of his ring and the blood-red stone glinting in the lingering sunlight. His question didn’t have an answer, or at least not one that I wanted to share. “Did the demons escape?”
“I don’t know. I left.” His head tilted as he watched me. “Why did you run?”
I nudged the ring back toward him. “Because I don’t belong to the Alliance.”
“And neither do I.” He smiled, tight-lipped, as ghosts gathered in his eyes. “I’m done living by another man’s rules.” Brandr picked up the ring, studying it in the half-light. “I wore this for too long. Here,” he said, offering me the warm gold. “You keep it.”
“I can’t.” I shook my head, but he caught my hand and pressed the ring into it, folding my fingers around the heavy ruby. “Brandr, I—”
“Keep it, sell it,” he said, holding my hands. “I don’t want it.”
Magic tingled where he touched me, a sense of greater connection, and I held my breath. The red haze of pack magic around him faded as his connection to Soren and the Alliance disappeared.
“Welcome to the dark side,” I said weakly. A terrible joke.
He studied me, eyes narrowed just a hair. “I could swear you’re two-natured. When you did that voodoo on my head, there was something very familiar about you.”
I pulled my hands away, still holding his ring. “What did you remember?”
“I don’t care who you were or what you did. I don’t care why you insist on helping Soren. It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m glad, but—”
His eyes remained impassive, dark but steady. “I’m leaving. Come with me. There’s nothing for you here. Leif will always put Soren ahead of you, and you deserve more than being his second thought.”
My heart sank. I feared he was right. Leif even admitted as much—he thought he’d lost his mind for coming after me instead of obeying Soren’s orders. It wouldn’t be fair to him either, to stress his relationship with Soren at every turn. And not much else held me there, only Moriah. Once Leif told everyone what happened and the Alliance blamed me for the demons, I wouldn’t have any friends left.
But I couldn’t ignore demon summonings. I repeated my question, concentrating on the ring.
Brandr took a deep breath. “She hired me to turn you, not kill you. Just make sure you turned. Then I would take you into the pack and order you to answer their questions and cooperate, regardless of whether you wanted to.”
Breathing grew more difficult. “And yet you didn’t.”
“Oh, I fully intended to capture you.” He winked, a smile not entirely covering the lingering threat. “I tracked you until I was sure. By then I had no intention of turning you over.”
“Why?” Unbidden, the memory of a wolf in the shadows as I fled my apartment rose in my mind’s eyes, and I shivered. I wondered how much he’d seen.
“I watched you break into the witch’s house, so I knew you were no friend of the Alliance. I figured I could change you, we could take the money, then disappear.”
A solid plan, if it hadn’t meant pissing off a witch powerful enough to selectively alter his memory, as well as his pack’s, and stealing my magic without my permission. I pressed my palms together as I asked Mother for patience. “When did she hire you?”
He frowned at the ceiling. “Wednesday night, late.”
Wednesday night. After I confronted Anne Marie, after the Skein. “Four days is a long time to survive an Old World hit. I don’t know if I should be proud of myself or disappointed in you.”
Brandr bared his teeth in a smile. “I enjoy the chase more than most men.”
I laughed in surprise and a little because of the flirting, the edge of danger in every look. It was a welcome distraction from the looming fight to the death ahead of us. “Did the witch say why they wanted me turned?”
“She said they wanted something from you but you were…uncooperative.” He gave me a look, like he commiserated with whoever hired him. “She said it was far safer to get what she wanted if you had no magic, and had no way of getting magic. Which meant turning.”
I frowned. If I turned, a collar wouldn’t drive me mad, and I wouldn’t be able to resist Brandr’s orders, not with the pack magic he would wield as alpha. A good plan, all things considered.
“Huh,” I said, and slouched in the chair.
“And then the Morrigan warned me about you.”
Cold flashed through me at the warning. I shook it off as Brandr grinned. “She knew someone hired me to change you, and said you were unstable. Vindictive. That I should kill you instead because the change would drive you insane. She didn’t like you much.”
I got up and tossed the glass of water in the sink. I wanted to believe Anne Marie hired Cold River to catch me, but my heart knew she hadn’t. Which made all of her other behavior even harder to understand. Maybe that third dark witch working with Cara and Danielle did...
“Did she say who hired you?” I leaned against the counter to get a little distance from him, still distracted by his large, battered hands, resting so easily on the table.
“No names, but she knew her. An Alliance witch.”
“Oh, that’s helpful. Why didn’t the Morrigan hand you over to Soren to deal with?”
He snorted, smirking just a hair. “As if I would have let her.”
“She’s a bitch and a sloppy caster, but she’s still a war witch, honey. If she wanted to hand you over, you’d go.”
When he smiled, the edges of his teeth glinted. “Honey?”
I made a get-on-with-it gesture as my cheeks flushed. My death waited for me on the other side of the city—I didn’t have time for this back-and-forth.
“She was on her way somewhere,” he said after a long pause, letting me suffer. “She told me not to follow you, that she’d take care of it—then she did something to my head and everything went cloudy.”
I stared at him as if the answers would write themselves across his face or fall out of his ears. I needed a name. Maybe if I shook him a little...
As I said nothing, Brandr sat back and studied the kitchen. “Who died here?”
“What?”
“It smells like lives ended here. A long time ago, sure, but it’s unmistakable.”
I focused on the doorway to the living room, trying not to see the same ghostly horror show I always did. “Maybe.”
“Someone you knew?”
Mom. Dad. �
��Maybe.”
Only the ticking grandfather clock broke the silence. Brandr nodded to himself after a while, tapping his knuckles on the table. “I waited seven lifetimes to find my soulmate. We married a week before the Breaking. She and I—we had plans. Things to do. I thought we had plenty of time, another ten lifetimes maybe. Humans ambushed our pack five months later. They had rifles, shotguns. Silver in everything. We fought, but they were too many. She died.”
I studied his face, though it was cast in shadows as he leaned back. He concentrated on his hands on the table, though I didn’t think he really saw them. “I didn’t think I could survive her death. I didn’t want to. It was the need for vengeance that drove me—the desire for blood, to inflict as much pain as I felt. It faded, but... I don’t know. I will never love anyone like I loved her. I would rather not try. But I think life could be good if I shared it with you.”
“That’s sweet.” I didn’t know what else to say. What was there?
He shrugged, and even in the daylight, it seemed like darkness filled the Remnant.
I wiped my hands on my thighs as I looked away and the world tumbled out. “My parents died here. Were executed here.” My mouth went dry and I rasped to a halt, hugging myself. “I was twelve. Two months after the Breaking.”
He made a thoughtful noise, and his fingers drummed the table. “And now we are both fighting alone, for ourselves. Now what do we do, Lilith?”
I looked at the piano in the living room, still wary of that damn book. “The Alliance is evacuating everyone south of the city. Immediately.”
“Are you going?”
“I don’t belong to the Alliance,” I said.
“Okay.” Brandr knocked his fists against the table once more. “What are we doing first? Who do we need to kill?”
“Brandr,” I said. “You should get as far from here as you can before demons come after me, or Soren does.”
“Can’t.” He looked as immovable as a boulder, sitting at my mother’s table.
“I fully expect to die doing this,” I said, and I didn’t even choke when I said it.
“Or maybe not, if I’m there.” He folded his arms over his chest and arched his eyebrows at me.
Stubborn damn wolves. A spark of hope ignited in my chest, though it made me deeply uneasy. Hope was dangerous. “Or you’ll die instead, hero.”
“Then I’ve fulfilled my oath,” he said. “And if we both win, I’ll take you to dinner. I win either way. And I don’t have anything waiting on me but a death sentence. So what are we doing first?”
I rubbed my temples. If the saints tormented me with Brandr’s attention, there had to be a reason. Some kind of divine plan. “We have to find the coven, destroy some demons, close a rift, and kill a dead man.”
He didn’t blink. “I take it you know where to start.”
“Not yet,” I said, pushing away from the counter. I felt rejuvenated, now that I had someone at my side. “But I will.”
He followed me into the living room, and as he sat in my dad’s lounge chair, I wondered if I would ever show Leif this house where I grew up, where my war started.
In the steamer trunk under the piano, a warded box protected a few silver mirrors. I retrieved the smallest, no larger than my palm, and placed it on the coffee table. Mother enforced strict rules: no demon summoning around the food.
I didn’t look at Brandr as I set a circle and cut my finger. “They’ll execute me if you tell anyone about this.”
“Baby, I have my own death sentence to worry about.”
I almost smiled as I dripped blood on the mirror. I wanted to tease him about it, but froze as smoke curled up the instant my blood touched it.
Brandr sat back. “Shit.”
The stench of gravedirt followed, blossoming as the smoke unfurled. My stomach dropped. It shouldn’t have worked like that.
“Darling, you finally called,” Sam murmured, a hideous mockery of caring.
“I’m not your darling.” Sam couldn’t be in the mirror. Blood and mirrors didn’t summon humans. Only demons. I stared at the glass, willing it to crack and trap him in the Betwixt. “How did you find me?”
“We are linked. We belong together.”
“I am not—”
“You still wear my ring.”
My finger trembled as I touched the ring, barely refraining from ripping off the chain and throwing it across the room. “It is mine. A man I loved—a man who died seven years ago—gave it to me. I don’t know what you are, but I’m going to banish you to a hell you deserve.”
“Oh, I missed that passion.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
Brandr tensed next to me, a growl rumbling in his chest, and he touched my back in a glancing touch. I stared into the smoke until my vision swam. There had to be a sign somewhere to reveal what he was, what animated him. “And the coven?”
“I’ll free them, as a gift. But I want something in return.”
“Release them.” I wasn’t about to negotiate with him. At least he confirmed they still lived…maybe.
He chuckled. “We will discuss the terms in person. I want to see your face again.”
“Bring the coven.”
More laughter. “Meet me at the Skein. The witching hour.”
Always the damn witching hour. I hated the dark. “They must be alive.”
“You must be there, alone.”
“Yes, alone,” I snapped. “Who would I bring?”
“The human, perhaps?” Sam sighed. “You are so much better than that, Lilith.”
My heart jumped. I consigned Eric to her fate, hoping it had been a quick death at least. But Sam didn’t know about Leif. “You set a low standard, witch.”
He purred, making my skin crawl. “Be there. You don’t want me to find you first.”
The smoke thinned, grew sparse, and the mirror went dark.
I broke the circle and covered the mirror in salt, debating as I sat back. I could free the witches. There was no telling what he wanted in return, but at least I could free Tracy. Once the coven was free, maybe they could fight back. We wouldn’t be nine, but we’d stand a much better chance of defeating him with seven war witches instead of one.
“What the hell was that?” Brandr sounded remarkably calm.
I wished I shared some of his aplomb. “The dead man I have to kill.”
“Ah.” He watched as I retrieved another book from the warded shelf. “And how do we kill a dead man?”
“I had an idea,” I said, paging through the book. “But things change if you’re willing to go with me. I need a different spell.”
He folded his hands across his stomach and propped his legs on the coffee table, eyes half-closed. “We’ll find a way.”
“I hope so,” I said under my breath, almost a prayer. The grandfather clock kept ticking away the seconds until witching hour; there weren’t nearly enough. “I really do.”
Chapter 47
Brandr crouched next to me, eyes reflecting the moonlight. “It’s a good plan.”
“No, it’s not.” I swatted a bug on my arm. We’d slunk through the Slough and up to the Skein, pausing to regroup before the final push. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
His mouth twitched and the pronounced canines glinted. “This is the most fun I’ve had in years.”
I thought of the rush when we’d faced off at the Pug, the surge of adrenaline as we battled. I didn’t look at him. “Me too.”
Brandr tilted his head at the clearing. “Ready?”
No. Not at all. I took a deep breath and offered my hand. “It was an honor fighting with you.”
“No goodbyes, witch. We will fight again.” But he pressed my fingers with his.
I wished I shared his confidence or at least his denial, keeping my eyes wide as I stared into the darkness. “Maybe in Valhalla, wolf. Don’t let them take you alive.”
He winked, clapped my shoulder, and disappeared into the undergrowt
h, not even the leaves swaying to betray his path.
I paused to murmur Rosa’s mantra for strength of will. The witching hour approached. A deep breath didn’t steady my shaking hands, but I straightened and walked into the clearing anyway. If I waited for confidence, I’d never move. Sometimes bravery meant doing what needed to be done despite being terrified.
I wrapped power around me like an embrace, reveling in the War Witch’s indifference as I stood in the open. I’d snuck in a short nap after we got the plan together and before the sun went down. I had enough power to feel overconfident.
When Sam said, “Lilith, my love,” from the darkness, only mild disgust ruffled my calm.
Disdain for him and the three witches cowering at his feet filled me up as I faced the first man to break my heart. Two more witches, tainted with dark magic, retreated into the trees. I hoped Brandr killed them. “Sumo.”
He grimaced at the old nickname, and I neither celebrated nor cared. His coal-fire eyes flashed as he gestured at the three witches. “Your coven.”
“Not mine,” I said as I looked at Tracy, AM, and Betty. Disgusted with the young one, Betty. The one who covered her ears and cried while a demon murdered Rosa and Joanne. Murdered my coven-mates, and she did nothing to help them. I turned my ire on Sam. “You owe me six witches.”
“Half now,” he said, smile eerie as he watched me. He knew I judged all three for their failures. “The rest after you free me.”
“Free you?” I laughed, strolling closer to the chained and collared witches. Betty stared vacantly at me, long red scratches striating her cheeks. Tracy’s brow furrowed as she watched me. I rolled magic into blue death, to remind him to fear me. “From what? I already reanimated you—what more do you want?”
Betty keened as she hugged her knees to her chest, a low whine like an abused dog. I gritted my teeth.
Sam raised his arms and dirty opalescent magic slid around the clearing, demarcating the border of my first circle. “While I appreciate that, you also managed to bind me here.”
I laughed, enjoying his predicament even through the War Witch’s indifference. “How sad for you.”
