by Sara DeHaven
His Dad was high up in the Keltoi, considered likely next in line for chief, but Carson had never seemed influenced by that, even though family connections in the Keltoi were supposed to be a big deal. All he would send Scanlon’s way were shit smuggling jobs. Scanlon had brains, he’d graduated from college with a business degree. And he had good ideas, but they’d put him in some box that said, “Good at hiding spells, give him the product running jobs.” He needed something high profile, something he’d done on his own to show a little initiative. And there was what he would get out of it, for himself. How could he have just walked away?
It had to have been that Keeper. He was supposed to be some hot shot, from one of those old powered families, thought they were so much better than Keltoi when Keltoi had been around just as long. It couldn’t have been that pansy Warder, and that powered chick may have helped him, but he’d felt only one weak defensive spell from her, so she was clearly not much of a factor.
He turned off on his exit and started threading his way through streets of high rise apartment buildings in his Belltown neighborhood. The nausea was fading now, but a nagging feeling of anxiety was blossoming under the rage. To think that someone could take control of him like that, get in his head, make him forget everything that was important to him, everything he'd worked for. It was like being raped, a real mind-fuck. He kind of knew now why powered thought binding was such dark magic. He’d always thought people made too big a deal of it. But having it happen to you just made your skin crawl.
But there was no doubt he had to try again. He’d just have to be more careful, be more prepared. That demon ridden idiot Justice would help him again, he knew. Possessed were usually up for anything that might involve violence. He was less sure of the others, they might not think it was worth the trouble.
As he pulled into the garage under his condo building and parked, he thought about what it might be like to bind others. Sure as hell would come in handy with that Keeper. Casters like him usually had a whole library of spell lore. Real academic types. That was probably how he’d done it, some spell, because Keepers weren’t allowed to be Binders. The Ecclesias would strip you of powers faster than you could spit if you had one of the forbidden talents, and that'd most likely kill someone strong enough to go for Keeper. Just another example of how screwed up a lot of powered were with their whole light magic, dark magic distinctions. The truth was it was all power, and either you had the balls to use what you had or you didn’t. Well, he’d just have to see about tracking that Keeper down to wherever he kept his books, see if he could find that binding spell. Most Casters kept a personal book of those spells they used most or had discovered on their own, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find. He could keep that binding spell for himself.
He’d have to do it when Thorvaldson was gone, though. And he needed to keep working on a plan for how get Thorvaldson for Carson. Maybe he shouldn’t try to get him and the kid both at the same time. There had to be a way, because this was the best chance he’d come across to get Carson’s attention. Then maybe his Dad would stop making those pointed little comments about what a waste of money it had been to send him to college.
It was a fluke he even knew that Carson wanted Thorvaldson. He’d just happened to overhear him talking to Destry that night when he was earlier than expected reporting in on a job. Taking down a Keeper of Thorvaldson's power would make his reputation, even better than surviving a long possession. And there was no way he wanted to go that route. Just look at Justice. That guy was losing it, fast.
He threw open his car door, got out, and got a little satisfaction out of slamming it shut. Yeah, he'd get Thorvaldson's spell book, then take him down. And there was no fucking way he'd share that binding spell with anyone.
Chapter 5
Bree sat in her car outside Sophie and Bruce’s, hand on the amulet that now lay around her neck. It was raining quite hard, and the rain pounded on the roof of her car like the tiny fists of angry babies. Why had Daniel Thorvaldson spent two days making her a protection amulet before the attack at Kevin’s? Was there something about their experience with the taint that made him do it, something he suspected? Was it just a thank you gift? Or had he expected or hoped to be around her again, and thought there was something dangerous in that for her?
She sighed and gave up trying to figure it out for now. She called Kevin on her cell, and got basically no information from him over the phone. All he would say was that it was okay for her to come over. He did mention, just before hanging up, trying to sound casual, “Javier stopped by. He’ll probably still be here when you get here.”
Oh great, Javier Ortiz. Keeper, Seth’s best friend, and high on the list of people she would rather not see. There had been a very bad scene after Seth’s funeral when Javier made it clear he blamed her for Seth’s death, then another, only slightly less awful one where he stiffly apologized, more, she suspected, because he thought it was the generous and correct thing to do than because he had actually changed his mind. They hadn’t spoken since. It was just her luck he’d be the Keeper sent in to investigate the situation at Kevin’s. She briefly considered not going, but decided that was too cowardly. Maybe if it wasn’t too bad, she could go back to Mass at St. Stephen’s without the dread of running into him.
It was still pouring rain when she arrived at Kevin’s, and she made a run for it from her car to the front stoop. Kevin greeted her at the door, looking rumpled, tired and discouraged. Bree gave him a hug, then hovered with him in the front hall while he gave her a quick update.
“We’ve had three Keepers here since last night,” he told her. “They’ve basically been providing a guard. Javier was here last night as well, in more of an investigative role. I take it he’s good at reading energy traces, and he says he picked up some patterns that match a couple of local Keltoi, more petty vice types by the sound of it, no major players, though a couple had high power readings. And he said…” Kevin paused and grimaced as if he had just tasted something nasty. “He said he wants to investigate Hunter’s adoption, that it wouldn’t be the first time someone powered later went after a powered child they had given up.”
“Oh Kevin,” Bree murmured sympathetically.
“It’s just sick the way some powered only value powered children,” Kevin continued heatedly. “Steve and I would have gladly adopted a child with no powered ancestry, but we got the chance at Hunter first, and of course we fell in love with him.” He leaned back against the hallway wall. “You know Bree, I have to admit I can’t but hope this is about Daniel. I wouldn’t wish any harm on him, but he’s a Keeper, he can defend himself. Hunter is just a child, and you saw how much good my wards did with a concerted attack. How long do you suppose they’re going to post Keepers here as guards. A week? Two weeks?”
A fiery protective surge well up in Bree, the same feeling she used to get when she found someone possessed. She wanted to do something about this. “I want to talk to Javier,” she replied, wanting to ride the feeling until it vanished.
“He’s in the kitchen with Daniel, raking him over the coals. Which is not a good thing,” he confided in a near whisper. “Daniel went to a lot of effort to avoid anyone or anything following him here. His old partner Bailey and I are the only ones who even know he’s in Seattle. He really wants to be left alone for awhile.”
Bree’s heart went out to Daniel at that moment, more than it had before. She knew exactly what that felt like, just wanting all the stress to stop, wanting to be left alone. Bree stalked toward the kitchen.
She found Daniel sitting on one of the high stools at the granite topped breakfast bar, body very still, except for one hand restlessly turning a coffee mug in circles. He hadn't shaved that morning. Javier was standing on the other side of the counter. He had excellent posture, which made him look taller than he was. He was immaculately dressed as usual, in sharply creased navy pants, blue button down shirt, and darker blue silk tie. Bree had always wondered how someone so different from
Seth had managed to stay friends with him for so long. Seth had been casual to the point of sloppiness, laid back to Javier’s controlling meticulousness, and open hearted to Javier’s cautious pessimism. She had finally concluded it was one of those bonds forged from growing up together more than any sympathy of character or interests. They had certainly shared a whole slew of inside jokes, and Seth had had a way of loosening Javier up. She'd never had that gift with Javier. They'd always been courteous to one another, had wanted to like each other, but had just never really hit it off.
“Javier,” she said, nodding to him as she entered the room. “Daniel,” she added, and surprised herself by putting a hand on Daniel’s shoulder in greeting. He looked up at her with a half smile. She saw his eyes drop, register that she was wearing the amulet, just visible in the opening of her shirt. Then he look quickly and quite intently at Javier, as if trying to draw his attention away from Bree.
She realized Daniel did not want Javier to know about the amulet. She wanted to reach up and button her shirt another button, but that would only draw attention to it. Instead, she crossed her arms and leaned up against the breakfast bar, shifting her weight enough that the amulet slid to one side inside her shirt and out of sight. The realization flashed through her mind that she had just chosen sides.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, pleased to hear that her voice sounded confident. “I was just wanting to check in, see about the status of the case, and answer any questions you might have about last night.”
There was a sneaky satisfaction in seeing how uncomfortable Javier appeared at the sight of her. She'd read his energy spike at her entrance, and he avoided her eyes. “Ah Bree, yes. I was just finishing with Mr. Thorvaldson here, so you’re not interrupting,” Javier replied politely, but his tells were flashing repressed embarrassment. Bree saw that Javier knew she could read his discomfort, and knew that she knew that he knew. Sometimes dealing with other Readers was ridiculously complicated.
“Mr. Thorvaldson, thank you for your assistance in this matter,” Javier said. “I fully understand that you're retired, and there should be no need to call on you further."
The two men did not shake hands. Daniel leaned in close to Bree on his way out and said quietly, “I’ll be in back with Steve and Hunter. They kept Hunter home from school today.” Bree nodded, and turned back to Javier. She had taken the moment of distraction in their finishing up to surreptitiously button another button on her blouse, and felt more confident that the amulet was hidden.
“Bree, I understand you were here last night and sensed a demon. Can you tell me more about that?” Javier began. He officiously shuffled the pile of papers in front of him on the counter, then reached for a pen to take notes.
“I can’t tell you much, really. I could sense one, medium-strong in power. It was blocked by the protective spell I threw up. Not that I’m so hot at defensive spells. I didn’t recognize its energy signature or anything. Honestly, Javier, that’s about all I know. Things were crazy, and I didn’t have time or space to read more.”
“And how, in your opinion, did Mr. Thorvaldson manage to drive the group outside away?” Javier fully met her eyes for the first time, and she knew he was reading her. She remembered he was much better at reading energy than tells, but she had to be very careful to tell the truth as much as possible.
“Well, he was a Keeper back east, at least that’s what Kevin told me. Retired or something, but not for long, so I suspect his skills were still pretty fresh. I think he managed to convince them they weren’t going to get in and might as well give up for the time being.” There, technically all true. She waited for Javier’s response, realizing for the second time that day that she was taking Daniel’s side, wondering if it was because of the gift of the amulet, wondering if the gift was itself intended to manipulate her to do just that. Or maybe it was just her libido talking. The way her breath had caught when he stood close to her a moment ago wiped out her hope that the Binder thing had completely turned her off to him.
“That jibes with what he said,” Javier replied cautiously. "However, there are, of course, cases where Keepers go over to the Keltoi. There's a lot of money to be made in organized crime. Keeper salaries are a pittance in comparison to what even lower ranking Keltoi members can make."
For a moment, Javier's suspicion made Bree pause. Could that be the reason Daniel left the Keepers? But then she shook her head. "Doesn't he come from one of those old, rich powered families back east? I'm not sure he needs the money that badly."
"And yet he doesn't strike me as being completely honest in his reasons for leaving the Keepers."
Careful. "I don't really know all his reasons for leaving the Keepers. I only just met him."
Javier's dark eyes regarded her a moment longer, and he was reading her so hard that she could feel the energy of it like sticky fog clinging to her head. She concentrated intently on the truth of what she had just said. She didn't know all his reasons. The silence between them stretched uncomfortably.
"I have ways of checking into Mr. Thorvaldson's retirement," Javier finally said, and Bree had to work at blocking out the dismay his statement caused her. She doubted she had succeeded, because Javier flashed a small, knowing smile.
“So what do you think this is about?” Bree asked, hoping to get his attention off of her.
Javier shook his head. “Hard to say at this point. Although I will say Mr. Thorvaldson gave a very complete report of his attempts to, shall we say, retire without complications. The Keltoi are generally only loosely allied, clan to clan, so any trouble he had with them in Boston is actually not that likely to cause him trouble here. And I’m afraid that the less likely it looks the group last night were after him, the more likely it seems they were after Hunter. There've been some very ugly incidences of adoptions gone wrong when powered children are involved. And there are even cases of the kidnapping of powered children who are unrelated to the kidnappers. It's usually Keltoi in such cases. It's a form of underground, illegal adoption by those powered who want powered children. Of course, it's possible that this isn't about Mr. Thorvaldson or about Hunter. Are you in some kind of trouble?” He gave her a hard look.
Here at least Bree could feel confident. She outlined for him her lack of power working activity since Seth's death. It felt strange to be talking to him, but also good to have something specific to say. He already knew almost everything there was to know about her power work before Seth died, so there was no need to go over that.
“You know there are reports of demons coming after exorcists later. They seem to have some memory of time in bodies they have inhabited,” Javier said, looking down at notes he was taking rather than at her.
“But why would Keltoi be involved in that case?”
Javier sighed. “Yes, exactly. Which is why I’m going to need to find out what I can about Hunter’s adoption.”
“You’ll be stationing Keepers here until you find out more?” Bree asked. She couldn't keep a challenging note out of her voice.
“Of course,” Javier answered coolly. “For the next couple of days, at least, while the investigation goes forward.”
Bree managed to get away from Javier soon after. Neither of them mentioned the past, which was fine with her, so the meeting was less painful than she had anticipated. Still, she got the distinct impression that while he largely believed Daniel’s story, neither was he letting go of considering him potentially in danger, or even potentially complicit, which probably meant drawing more attention than Daniel was comfortable with. He had hinted he would be calling the Keeper Association in Boston to check up on Daniel, and who knew where that might lead.
She went back to Hunter’s room, where Hunter was playing Connect Four with Kevin. Bree sat on the bed next to Daniel after she had greeted Hunter and provided the required amount of enthusiasm for the fact that Hunter was currently beating Kevin. Hunter dug inside his shirt, and pulled out a silver disc on a cord. "See Bree? Daniel made me thi
s necklace in case I get lost. All I have to do is hold it, say the words and he can find me anywhere."
"And what are the words?" Kevin prompted.
"By wind, I call Daniel!"
"By wind and by will, I call Daniel Thorvaldson," Kevin corrected.
"I know, Daddy." He focused back on the game, and Daniel asked her to come speak with him out in the hall.
“Look, I’m sorry about that in there,” he began. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot with Ortiz. It’s just that if he saw the amulet, and you told him where you got it, there would be even more questions about last night. And honestly, I’ll do what I can to help Kevin, but I just want to stay out of official Keeper channels on this.”
Bree suddenly felt foolish for having gone along with covering up the amulet. She didn’t want Daniel thinking she was going to be part of hiding what he was. And the minute that crossed her mind, she felt a fool again, because that was exactly what she was doing. She wasn’t marching in there to tell Javier that Daniel was a Binder, had somehow become a Keeper while being a Binder, which was against the law.
There he stood, looking at her diffidently, a shy, flustered look, so at odds with the power and control he’d shown last night. If she was to trust her Reader sense at all, she had to conclude that he didn't mean her any harm, in spite of that hint of darkness in his energy signature. Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t end up doing harm. She’d seen the side of him that seemed vulnerable and basically kind, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have another side. And it wasn't as if she had never misjudged someone, in spite of her Reader sense. Readers were only human, were subject to the same preconceptions and emotional reactions as anyone else, they just had more information to screw themselves up with. She was frustrated with the whole dilemma and said, ungraciously, “Fine. However you want to handle it.”
