by Jayne Hawke
Cover art by Deranged Doctor Design
ONE
It had been five days since we’d defeated the blood witches. I slumped down in my favourite seat at the kitchen table in the safe house. My morning had been spent dispatching wannabe assassins. Blood coated my hands and clothes. It had even splattered my face. The familiar tingling sensation from my blood magic was present, but I was firmly ignoring it. Everything in my mother’s grimoires had pointed to madness if I gave in and allowed my blood magic to do as it pleased.
Cade placed a bowl of warm water with a fresh cloth down in front of me. It was quickly followed by a couple of healing potions and a sandwich, which looked to have been made with half a cow and a full loaf of bread. Sin sauntered into the room. To my dismay, he didn’t appear to have a single drop of blood on him. His designer chinos and boots looked as though they had come straight from some top-end store, and his beautiful leather jacket was equally untouched. Damn him.
The elf sat down next to me and eyed my sandwich.
“We should send the heads of the assassins to Ryn,” Sin said idly.
I glared at him until he looked away from my sandwich. The first thing I’d learnt when I moved in with the pack was to guard my food, else someone would take it from me. It was a weird sensation, but it was what I got for moving in with a bunch of oversized guard dogs.
Sin’s plan did amuse me. The number of assassins had doubled since we’d met with Ryn. I’d hoped that our handing over the remaining blood witch would appease him somewhat; instead it seemed that he’d taken it as a challenge. I didn’t particularly like being his testing ground for assassins. It was costing me a fortune in jeans, if nothing else.
Washing my face, I thought about it. Ryn was the leader of the Fae Isles. All other fae bowed down to him. It was a position he’d fought tooth and nail for. There were rumours that the great Shadow Fox, the assassin that sent shivers down even the fallen’s spines, had tried to kill him once. Ryn was supposedly the first failed assassination the Shadow Fox ever had. Of course, I wasn’t convinced the Shadow Fox existed at all. If you believed all of the stories, then they could slip through shadows and kill anyone, anywhere. Shadow walkers were a myth, and no one was that good.
“I vote we do it. Send the heads, I mean,” Cade said as he sat down opposite me.
His black curly hair was a tangled mess with distinct patches of red where blood had dried. The others were out running errands and handling business matters.
“How would we do it? Don’t couriers have rules against shipping disembodied limbs and things?” I asked as I picked up my sandwich.
“We’d just use one of the witch couriers. They’re always shipping organs and dead things,” Cade said with a shrug.
Witches needed to send all sorts of unpleasant, dangerous, fragile, or otherwise unusual items from place to place as part of their magical dealings, and rather than try and talk normal couriers into weird requests on a daily basis it made sense to start their own – not to mention that paying humans to do things meant less money in the hands of witches. It also allowed for the use of what might broadly be called ‘travel magic’ for particularly important transfers, though the difficulty involved and the resources required meant that those sorts of services were very expensive and used very infrequently. You might want the very freshest kidneys, but when the price of shipping was more than the price of the item, fresh-ish started to seem good enough.
In any case, the idea was certainly growing on me. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, given Ryn’s power and position, but it would be fun to see the expression on his face. Or picture the expression on his face when boxes of heads showed up at his office.
I bit into the sandwich, which was almost as thick as the palm of my hand was wide.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Sin asked.
“You tell me, you’re the elf,” I said.
He crossed his arms and pushed his chair back to balance it on its back legs. The elf was making himself comfortable in the pack house. He was still bound to his lady, but he apparently had enough freedom to live where he pleased. Sin still hadn’t given many details on that bond. All I knew was Ethan or I had to challenge his lady for the bond if we were going to bring him into the pack. Ryn had all but commanded we do so, but we’d been pretty busy and hadn’t gotten around to it yet.
“Ryn does have a sense of humour, beneath the murderous intent and sociopathic drives. I think he’ll see the amusement in it,” Sin said.
“We’ll see what Ethan says,” Cade said as he finished his own sandwich.
“I’m co-alpha now, isn’t my word enough?” I said with a grin.
“You’re co-alpha in name because you’re dating Ethan. You haven’t fought for the position,” Cade said.
I leaned forward and looked into Cade’s amber eyes.
“Does that mean you want me to kick your ass?”
He laughed.
“Such confidence. Some would call that arrogance...” he retorted.
“You’ve seen me take down god touched, assassins, harpies, and blood witches. Do you think you’re better than them?”
He leaned forward.
“I know I am,” he said with a soft growl.
I laughed and returned to my sandwich. If I wanted to live with predators, I had to prove I was just as dangerous as them.
TWO
“Why is there a box full of heads by the front door?” Ethan asked as he walked into the kitchen.
Cade, Sin and I looked at each other.
“We’re sending them to Ryn,” Sin said.
Ethan paused on his way to the fridge and frowned at us before he slowly smiled.
“Yes, I like that,” he said with a laugh.
“Do you think a ribbon around the box and a handwritten note would be too much?” I asked.
“I think it would be a nice touch,” Cade said.
“The ribbon is pushing it,” Ethan said.
Dean came stomping into the kitchen as Ethan sat down next to me. Dean tossed his plaid shirt into the trash and muttered under his breath.
“We should start sending Ryn invoices for the clothes his damn assassins ruin,” Dean grumbled.
He turned to face the rest of us, and I saw deep red cuts criss-crossing his ridiculously defined abs. They were slowly healing before my eyes. I subconsciously rubbed at the weird scar tissue where I’d mixed corrupt blood from one of the dead blood witches with my god magic to heal myself. I’d hoped that the silvery-red stuff would fade and disappear when I took the health potions, but the marks were still present on my body, to my great irritation.
I could feel my blood magic pressing against the foreign magic, but the healing going on beneath it was slow and itchy. The blood witches had done something to screw with me and stop the healing potions from doing their job. I hoped that I wasn’t going to be left with scars. They were sexy on men but a whole different thing on women.
“We’re sending him the heads of the assassins,” Sin said cheerfully.
“Damn, I already threw the bodies to the dobhar chu,” Dean said.
“I’m sure there’ll be more later,” I said.
Dean kept looking at Sin and frowning, which only encouraged the elf to grin brightly at him.
“Remind me why he’s staying in the house instead of on the roof,” Dean said to Ethan.
“Because Ryn was right, and Sin has proved to be a useful ally,” Ethan said evenly.
Dean huffed and said nothing.
“Well, aren’t you a cheery bunch!” Kerry said as she and Matt joined us in the kitchen.
She and Matt had been sharing her bedroom for a few nights, and they were both verging on giddy. I hadn’t found the right moment to jump Ethan, but I was going to have to soon. Between the stress of the assassins and the increasing attraction between us, I wasn’t going to be able to hold out much longer.
“Have you challenged my lady?” Sin asked Ethan.
Ethan gr
oaned and sighed.
“I’ve been busy running a very successful business while fending off assassination attempts.”
The corner of Sin’s mouth tugged downwards.
“Fine, tell me who she is and the process of the challenge,” Ethan said wearily.
“She is Lady Seanan. You will have to verbally challenge her and then beat her in a match of fists,” Sin said.
“So we have to kick her ass,” I said.
“Yes,” Sin said.
“And there I was thinking you fae were so much more civilised than the rest of us,” I teased.
Sin grinned at me, a sharp expression full of promises of pain.
“Oh, darling, we can be positively feral when we choose,” the elf said.
My mind immediately went to Ethan and that huge bed waiting for us in his room, which I had no doubt was Sin’s intention. The bastard.
We were all in our favourite spots in the living room ready to watch the latest episode of Imogen Shade together.
“So, you’re seriously just going to rock up to this Lady Seanan’s place and kick her ass until she hands Sin over to you?” Matt asked.
“We need to officially voice our challenge before we can,” Ethan said.
Sin had been incredibly bemused by the show at first. The idea of a pure-blooded human treasure hunter and thief just didn’t sit right in his mind. After a few episodes, he’d gotten into the fun of it. Sure, it was a bit ridiculous the way she managed to slip around the magical traps and outwit the hilarious bad guys every episode, but that was why we loved it. Sometimes you just need a bit of ridiculousness to shake off the darkness of real life.
Once the episode was finished, Sin went to speak, but Ethan said, “We’ll place the challenge when we have the time and energy.”
“I was actually going to say you look like you need a little more fun in your life,” Sin said.
I glared at him. The last time he’d given us some fun he had brought a group of dobhar chu and a spriggan to our doorstep.
Sin shook his head.
“You have so little faith in me.”
“Oh, I have plenty of faith in you. Faith that you’ll be a pain in the ass,” Ethan said.
I couldn’t help but laugh. Sin practically preened at Ethan’s words, which only made Ethan glower and me laugh even harder. The elf wasn’t such a bad addition to the pack.
THREE
I had never been a morning person. On those occasions when I did have to crawl out of bed before nine, I needed at least two cups of very strong breakfast to get me functioning. My expression when Ethan and Dean knocked on my door to go for a run with them at the literal crack of dawn was not one of amusement. I groaned. Buried myself under the blankets. Then I finally cursed them out and got dressed.
The crack of dawn during the winter was somewhere around seven in the morning, which wasn’t that unreasonable, but I hated stepping out into the cold air while it was still dark. We were supposed to sleep through the darkness, dammit.
Cade was in the workout room and passed on a run. I didn’t know what was wrong with them. They had smiles on their faces and hadn’t even had a cup of coffee. Still, I wasn’t going to be beaten. We headed out and began running along by the river. The hounds set a fast pace, but I refused to slip behind them. Losing wasn’t in my nature, and the pack only encouraged that competitiveness. Everyone pushed everyone else to be better, stronger, faster. It kept us sharp and battle-ready.
To my surprise, we didn’t see much of anything during the ninety-minute run. I thought I saw a bean finn beneath the surface of the water, but we were moving too quickly for me to be entirely sure. There was a soft white outline that could have been her white gown, and the impression of slender limbs. Bean finn weren’t all that common. They drowned human children fool enough to get too close to the banks of the river they swam in. Most children were smart enough to spot the dangers hiding in the water, but there would always be a few, which meant there would always be a few grieving parents willing to pay for revenge and call it a public service. Supernaturals may not think much of humans, but their money spends like anyone else’s.
The dobhar chu population appeared to be under control. I only saw one, which wasn’t unusual for the area. After the lecture I’d gotten about killing the hag and that upsetting the ecosystem, I’d expected far more change. I realised that probably meant another hag had moved into the area and groaned. They were useful in their own way, but they were also a pain in my ass.
We were sweaty and disgusting when we got back to the safe house that had become home. It was conveniently close to the library mom had built up - and everything else within the city. I still missed the wild openness and quiet of the normal pack house, though. Maybe we’d be able to return there once the assassinations subsided. There was a small chance that Ryn would back off when he got a box of heads. Or two.
Matt and Kerry were bright-eyed and laughing as they went about making breakfast for everyone. The pack didn’t believe in a slice of toast or a bowl of cereal for breakfast. No, it, like every other meal, was a feast. Matt was making a mountain of pancakes while Kerry worked on waffles and bacon. My mouth watered just looking at it all. I ran up the stairs to shower as quickly as I could. There wouldn’t be a bite left if I was too slow.
Ethan had guarded a plate full of waffles and bacon for me. He really was a keeper.
“Did you hear about the patch of dead people?” Cade asked as he poured himself another mug of coffee.
“I’m sorry, a patch of them?” I asked as I cut off a piece of waffle.
“Yea, a patch. There was a circle of death. Everyone and everything within it was dead,” Cade said.
“Witches,” I said with a sigh.
Everyone looked at me with one eyebrow raised.
“I’m only half witch, a demigoddess, remember,” I said with a grin before popping the waffle in my mouth.
“Anywhere know where the elf is this morning?” Dean asked.
“His lady called him back in,” Cade said.
That sounded ominous.
“She can’t be very happy that he hasn’t killed me and still has his head attached,” I said.
“I’ll send the challenge later. We need to look at this ‘patch of death’ first,” Ethan said.
“What if it wasn’t witches? I mean it could have been an alchemy thing gone wrong, some other form of death dealer like a cait sidhe,” Matt said.
“I really hope it wasn’t a broken banshee,” Cade said.
“A broken banshee? How do you break a banshee?” I asked.
“Sometimes something within them snaps and rather than screaming when someone nearby is going to die they turn into bombs of death magic,” Cade said.
“Delightful,” I said drily.
“Does anyone know what causes them to snap? What does that death magic come out like?” Matt asked.
“You are not going to break a banshee to use in alchemy,” I said.
“It could provide a breakthrough!” Matt said.
“Assuming you don’t kill half the city in the process,” I said.
“You just need the right containment system,” Matt said.
“You’ve never met a banshee. How can you know what type of system they need?” I asked.
“I have books and records. Banshees are reasonably well studied. They’re quite docile and even nice people when they’re not screaming,” Matt said.
“A book isn’t the same as real life experience,” I said.
“Your mom’s grimoires seem to be good enough for you,” he said.
There was no point in continuing the argument. If he wanted to turn a banshee into a bomb for the sake of alchemy, I wasn’t going to be able to stop him.
FOUR
They really hadn’t been kidding when they said it was a patch of death. A perfectly round circle had been formed in the middle of a small park near the outskirts of the city. Everything within the circle was completely dead. The gra
ss had turned brown and wilted beneath the thin layer of snow. Four people lay sprawled out in the middle of the circle, their eyes glassy and skin pale.
I reached out with my magic to check if their blood was still present. The blood felt wrong beneath the touch of my magic, but I put that down to its being dead and cooling. Where blood was usually full of threads of magic and, in some cases like Sin’s, sparks, that blood was a thick ooze that I really didn’t want to touch. Matt had insisted that we bring some vials along to get samples for him to look at with his alchemy mentor. He hadn’t really been involved in our cases to date, but he wanted that to change. Fighting wasn’t for him, but he was making progress as an alchemist.
My witch magic didn’t throw up any alarms as we walked around the edge of the circle and so we stepped inside. A group of Ethan’s people had formed a casual perimeter to stop witches and such from messing with the scene. The magic from the death of the people had already dissipated, but that didn’t mean that the remaining bodies, earth, and so on wouldn’t be of use to them.
The snow crunched beneath my boots. I looked back and saw the clear boot prints within the pristine white snow. That definitely screwed up the scene, but that they were the only ones also meant that who- or whatever had done that had done so from well outside of the circle. That was worth noting. I’d thought that death magic radiated outwards from the user, and the untouched field of snow looked too big to jump past.
“Could this be a death dealer? A cait sidhe or something?” I asked Ethan.
They had more nuance and control over their death magic, but the perfect circle was odd even then. It was far more difficult to form a perfect circle than people realised. It required focus and precision.
“I don’t smell anything that would tie it back to a cait sidhe; the type of death magic feels wrong.”
He crouched down next to the young woman wearing running clothes. Once he’d looked her over, he began putting some of her hair into a vial. Next went some of her blood. I did the same with the middle-aged man in a pinstripe suit.
