Idols and Enemies (Amplifier 4)

by Meghan Ciana Doidge

  Because it could only have been Christopher texting me, I climbed out of the comfortable cocoon of the bed — carefully, so I didn’t disturb Aiden. My feet had barely touched the floor when a familiar magic welled behind me and the bed sagged. Deeply.

  Already shaking my head, I looked over my shoulder to find a too-large, blue-nosed pit bull occupying the space I’d just vacated. The demon dog was sprawled next to the sorcerer, occupying the entire length of the bed, facing me, head on my pillow. She regarded me with red-slitted eyes.

  “Paisley,” I growled quietly. “You’re supposed to be with Christopher and Samantha.”

  Evidently, the demon dog was capable of teleporting between continents. That was a surprise, though I had no idea whether she was doing so all in one jump. I was definitely going to have to reinforce some rules, though. The last thing I needed — especially while waiting for Opal’s adoption to go through — was Paisley popping to and from wherever she pleased. Specifically, teleporting to the Academy to see the dream walker.

  Paisley flicked her forked blue tongue at me, flashing the tips of her double row of sharp teeth. Then she pressed her back paw against my sacrum and tried to push me all the way off the bed.

  I sighed, standing to retrieve the pink, green, and cream quilt that had pooled at the base of the bed. Crossing around, I covered Aiden’s exposed midsection with the quilt, leaving his torso and limbs bare so he wouldn’t overheat. Not that I was concerned about either of us being naked in front of the demon dog — she was the one who had invaded the bedroom, after all. I just didn’t trust her not to test whether or not Aiden’s ‘tentacle’ worked like one of her own tentacles, currently tucked away. Without a doubt, that was an experience I knew the sorcerer didn’t need to endure.

  Paisley chuffed, then made a show of getting comfortable on my pillow.

  The phone buzzed with what I assumed was a second text message as I tugged on a delicate pink silk robe that Aiden had bought me. I’d never had the chance to wear it outside of my bedroom or bathroom, because it was thin enough to leave nothing to the imagination — a look the sorcerer apparently enjoyed immensely.

  I swiped my finger up the screen, not otherwise touching the phone. That was more by instinct than necessity, as my magic didn’t wear on tech — unlike Aiden, who had to recycle his electronic devices every three months or so. And that was despite the layer of protection spells he paid dearly for, as he also did for Opal’s devices.

  The phone recognized my face, unlocking to reveal a new text message from Christopher.

  I tapped the messages icon, reading.

  >Socks. You’re going to need your blades. We can be back in 24.

  >And if you see Paisley, tell her I’m pissed she abandoned us.

  I gave Paisley a look. She ignored me, feigning sleep by mimicking Aiden’s breathing pattern. I texted back.

  Timeline?

  >Not clear yet. But the apples and pear trees haven’t dropped the last of their blooms.

  Christopher usually saw most clearly within the next forty-eight hours. So whatever — or whoever — he had caught a glimpse of wasn’t near enough for him to get a full picture, or the distance between us was dampening the clairvoyant’s sight. But based on what he had observed of the fruit trees, whatever he thought I’d need my blades for would happen in the next week or so.

  Do you actually see me decapitating someone?

  >What else would you be doing?

  So no?

  >No. But it’s always just a matter of time.

  I ignored the tone of his last comment, which seemed nasty to me, because I wasn’t about to start reading tone into text messages. It was also a statement, not a question. And an obvious one at that. So I didn’t bother answering, setting the phone aside as I contemplated kicking Paisley out of the room, and all the ways I could wake Aiden. The nice thing to do would have been to let the sorcerer sleep. Thankfully, I didn’t hold myself to being ‘nice’ terribly often.

  The phone buzzed. I glanced at it in time to see the text message Socks? flash on the screen.

  I might have just been missing the simmering magic of the blood tattoo that tied me to him, but I wasn’t interested in being pissy with the clairvoyant. I’d had enough of that over the last three months. I picked the phone up just as another text appeared.

  >Do you want us to return or not?

  Not.

  I thought about leaving the conversation at that. We had already discussed the plan to open Kader Azar’s letter, and the fallout we’d expected, before Christopher left. But since my lovely postcoital buzz had already almost worn off, I decided I didn’t want to be accused of being an asshole. So I added:

  Not yet. And Paisley just showed up.

  >Send her back. Please.

  I’ll ask.

  >Thank you.

  I set the phone down a second time, making sure it was still plugged in. But before I could turn back to the bed, another message came through.

  >I miss you. And our home.

  Before I could answer — or not answer, really — a shiver of power ran up my spine. I recognized the sensation. Someone had just touched the outer property wards, requesting entry. But the intensity, and the way it was lingering, was highly unusual.

  The shiver of magic came again, warming the back of my neck in particular.

  Aiden bolted upright in the bed, startling Paisley so thoroughly that she growled and snapped at him. The sorcerer flung himself away, magic flaring around him as he tumbled onto the floor.

  Paisley stood in the center of the bed — larger than she’d been a moment before — and shook herself all over.

  On the floor on the other side of the bed, Aiden sat up, peering at the demon dog, then through her legs at me. I tilted my head, noting the sheen of magic coating him. It winked out as the sorcerer raised an eyebrow at Paisley.

  “Was that really necessary?” He gained his feet, grabbing the quilt before it could fully fall to the floor, and wrapping it around his waist.

  Paisley stretched back, bowing before the sorcerer. Then, chuffing happily, she stretched forward, inviting affection. Aiden obliged, grinning as if she hadn’t just tried to take a bite out of him.

  “Hello,” Aiden said, scratching Paisley behind the ears. “Have the others returned as well?”

  “Just Paisley.” I smiled. “I just got a text from Christopher.”

  “Oh yes? Are you going to need your blades?”

  “It’s unclear.”

  Power pinged up my spine again. But the tenor was quieter, softer, as if the Adept requesting passage through Aiden’s outer wards had stepped back, patient to wait.

  I really shouldn’t have been picking up that much detail. Magic didn’t work for me like that. I was more of a blunt instrument, really. Channeling or absorbing power. I could wield some spells, such as the spell Aiden had patiently fed to me for weeks so that I could call my blades to me. And when I absorbed enough power, I could wield it subconsciously. My strength, speed, invulnerability to magic, and healing ability came from the power the Collective had forced me to absorb over long years.

  “An Azar sorcerer,” Aiden said, his head slightly tilted.

  “Just one?”

  Aiden started sorting through the discarded clothing littering the fir flooring. He set my dress at the foot of the bed while donning his pants. The dress had made it up from the back patio, just not on me. “Only one has brushed against the wards so far.”

  “Isa?” Aiden’s brother hadn’t been in contact with him since he’d fled during a snowstorm in February.

  “Could be. Though I’d be surprised if he’d face either of us willingly. Or alone.”

  A slow grin of vicious anticipation spread across my face. Aiden tugged a light-green T-shirt over his head, pinning his vibrant blue eyes on me with an answering smile.

  Still centered on the bed, Paisley threw her head back and howled triumphantly. The undulating wail assaulted all my senses, physical an
d magical. Aiden clamped his hands over his ears.

  The demon dog leaped off the bed, landing in the hall. She’d somehow cleared the doorway despite the sharp angle.

  “Wait for us!” I called after her, shaking my head to brush off the effects of her howl.

  She grunted, slowing her pace as she headed for the stairs but otherwise ignoring me.

  “Isn’t Paisley supposed to be helping Christopher and Samantha?” Aiden asked, crossing to me.

  “I’m guessing they didn’t cater to her every whim,” I said.

  Aiden threaded his fingers through my hair, cupping the back of my head and tugging me closer to brush his lips lightly across mine. “So she missed us,” he whispered.

  I darted my tongue past his lips playfully, and he pulled back, grinning slightly. “She’s probably just here to check on the cows and chickens.”

  “And the sorcerer at the gate.”

  “Let’s hope she hasn’t developed second sight. One seer in the family is enough.”

  “Agreed. And I gather the clairvoyant is heading back?”

  “Not yet.”

  Aiden arched an eyebrow at me.

  “He’d take all the fun out of the upcoming fight,” I said, still grinning.

  Aiden chuckled, running his fingers down the front edge of my silk robe. “I love this on you,” he murmured, cupping my breast through the fabric and flicking my nipple with his thumb.

  I shuddered slightly, leaning into his touch. “I’m not going to meet an Azar sorcerer in a silk robe. I’d hate to ruin it.”

  Aiden brushed another kiss across my lips, then stepped away. “I’m grabbing a few things from the study, then I’ll be ready.” He glanced back at me from the doorway, eyes simmering with power. “Emma … thank you.”

  I wasn’t certain what he was thanking me for, but he headed down the stairs before I could ask for clarification. I dressed, going so far as to pull my hair back in a ponytail, but not so far as to outfit myself with any weapons.

  I didn’t need anything more than my bare hands to bring down a sorcerer, after all. Even one powerful enough to convey intention — maybe even mood — through the outer wards.

  Paisley prowled ahead of us up the edge of the gravel driveway, her paws silent in the grass, right shoulder brushing the rose bushes. The demon dog had been waiting on the porch as we came down, front door open wide at her back, wearing her large pit bull aspect. The toothy grin of anticipation on her face reminded me to keep my own expression neutral.

  Aiden and I walked side by side, not meandering but not rushing either. Fingers and shoulders occasionally touching. Our three cows were munching through the tall green grass to the far right. Christopher had been talking recently about breeding the eldest with one of the Wilsons’ bulls, but had decided to help Samantha in her hunt for Bee instead.

  A figure in a tan-colored suit and hat stood in the shade on the far side of the gate at the end of the driveway. Just beyond the property boundary wards that I could feel as we approached, though I couldn’t see them. He was leaning back against the farm stand with his hat low enough to obscure his face. Feigning taking a standing nap, perhaps. Or he was just that sensitive to the sun. I had set eggs out on the stand that morning, but the lid of the cooler was raised, indicating that someone had purchased the last dozen already.

  As we approached, our visitor raised his head. His eyes instantly locked on Aiden.

  Not Isa.

  Kader Azar.

  And he looked old. Older than the eight years since the last time I’d seen him should have aged him. Sorcerers aged slowly. The gray that had speckled his temples on a rooftop in Los Angeles now feathered up under the edge of the hat. His darkly tanned skin was sallow, slackened in places as if he’d recently lost a lot of weight. The whites of his eyes were yellowed.

  My stomach did an odd roll with a combination of emotions that I couldn’t immediately place. It felt as though one of them might have been trepidation, but that would have been absurd.

  Aiden’s shoulders stiffened, tension edging his jaw. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, presumably palming at least one of the premade runed spells he’d collected from the magical arsenal he kept locked in the safe in the study.

  Kader didn’t even glance my way. He smiled at Aiden. The expression softened the hard planes of his face.

  I didn’t like him smiling at Aiden. I didn’t like having him near enough to speak with Aiden. I checked myself before I lost hold of my magic. I’d been clenching my hands. Any display of weakness was a weapon my adversary could use.

  Paisley snorted dismissively in Kader’s direction, then prowled to the right along the fence line, checking the perimeter. And the cows.

  Interesting. I wasn’t certain what the demon dog could sense through the boundary wards — or if she could even sense the wards at all. Even though she was blood tied to those protections, along with the secondary house wards, as were Opal, Christopher, Samantha, Jenni Raymond, and Lani Zachary.

  But whatever Paisley sensed of Kader Azar didn’t hold her attention.

  Aiden and I paused a stride away from the gate.

  Kader shifted his hat back on his head, stepping forward. He decided to actually glance my way for the first time.

  His second step faltered.

  A flash of recognition, then shock, flitted across his face. Then his smile widened. He was pleased to the point of … gloating?

  “Your wards are impressive, my son,” he said. His accent was smooth, cultured.

  Not gloating.

  Pride. Or at least Kader Azar’s version of being proud of his son.

  Aiden didn’t respond.

  Kader took another step forward, running his gaze over me, then meeting my eyes steadily. “What a pleasant surprise, amplifier.”

  I couldn’t tell if he was feigning that surprise.

  Aiden snorted, obviously doubting his father as well. “Don’t tell me that Isa is actually capable of keeping secrets.”

  Kader frowned slightly, transferring his attention to his son. “I haven’t seen him since he delivered my letter.”

  “Which you knew the instant I touched it,” Aiden said, as if just putting that together himself. Unhappily.

  Kader inclined his head.

  Silence fell between the three of us, punctuated only by the quiet cackling of the distant chickens, and the sound of even-more-distant traffic. Kader smiled again, gently. Which was odd, given everything I knew him to be. He glanced between us, his gaze lingering on Aiden the longest. Seemingly content to just let us look at him.

  I realized belatedly that the sorcerer Azar had arrived without a vehicle. A small satchel that presumably belonged to him was set on the farm stand, but he carried no other luggage. As if he’d teleported, perhaps with little preparation.

  Risky.

  I glanced at Aiden, suddenly finding my own anger, my own gleeful anticipation of confronting Kader, waning. Aiden’s face was blank of all expression, gaze riveted to his father. But in response to my look, he pulled a hand from his pocket and threaded his fingers through mine. Giving me access to what he was feeling.

  Confusion and frustration, with only a hint of anger simmering underneath, filtered through to me.

  “He wants something,” I said.

  Aiden nodded, not taking his gaze off his father. “Of course he wants something.”

  I glanced at Kader, who appeared to have no issue with us not including him in the discussion. “Why shouldn’t I just kill you where you stand, sorcerer?”

  He blinked. “To what end? Exacting revenge? For what? Your existence?”

  More games. “To protect Aiden,” I said.

  Kader smiled, allowing his lips to curl softly, to hint at a warmth of feeling. But this time, I could see the calculation behind the expression.

  “I would never hurt my son.”

  Aiden snorted.

  “Is that why Isa still lives?” I asked. “When it was he who betraye
d you to Silver Pine and Chenda, allowing the rogue shifters to kidnap you in LA?” I had first met the elder sorcerer while rescuing him with the Five. That mission had led to Silver Pine trying to kill me, and the Five destroying the compound as we fled the Collective. But I hadn’t known the reason for my death sentence until years later.

  Kader’s smile broadened. I could see the resemblance between father and son in the bone structure of his face, though the contours of his eyes were different. Aiden’s nose was more refined. His chin more defined as well. But there was no doubt they were blood related.

  “Did the witch and the mystic survive their contact with you, amplifier?” Kader asked. “Did the telepath tear the answers you seek out of their heads while you drained them of all resistance?”

  I didn’t answer. He hadn’t answered my question either.

  Kader glanced at Aiden, silent by my side, then down to our linked hands. “I’m eager to hear the tale of how you two met, and …” He waved his hand, trailing off.

  It was a completely innocuous gesture, but Aiden steeled himself, gripping my hand as if expecting to be attacked.

  Kader lowered his hand. “Fate moves in interesting ways …” he murmured.

  “No,” Aiden said bluntly.

  His father lifted his chin. “No? To?”

  “Everything. Anything.” Aiden’s tone was flat, uncompromising. But his emotions — picked up through my latent empathy — were tangled, roiling.

  Paisley wandered along the edge of the fence to our left, presumably having done a fast circuit of the property. She paused beside Aiden. Then, when he didn’t immediately acknowledge her presence, she leaned her shoulder into his knee. Heavily.

  Aiden swore softly, benign magic shifting in the arcane words. Then he finally looked away from his father just long enough to scratch Paisley behind the ears.

  I kept my gaze on Kader, watching the elder sorcerer’s expression as he in turn watched his son. I wasn’t particularly good at reading people, but I felt certain in that moment that Kader hadn’t come to hurt Aiden. Not outright, at least.

  So maybe it wasn’t all a game.

  Maybe he really was dying.

  And if Kader died without having one last conversation with his youngest son, what might that come to mean to Aiden? The emotions that had been emanating from the dark-haired sorcerer since he’d opened his father’s letter were clear in one way — they conflicted.