by Jayne Hawke
Unfortunately, it seemed she had been keeping a closer eye on her surroundings than I’d thought. The moment my attention turned to my fire charm and began to draw from it, she leapt into action, gnarled fingernails lunging for my eyes. I threw myself backwards, trying to maintain the spell, but the suddenness of the attack combined with the hideousness of its method broke my concentration, and the very expensive fire became a wave of harmless energy dissipating too fast to use.
The finwife continued her advance, teeth clenched and nails slashing out, her speed far faster (if every bit as inexplicable) than it had been in our last encounter. I didn’t have time to draw my sword and was reduced to fighting on the defensive. I saw an opening and made a hard counterpunch, but it was a trap. She caught my arm faster than I could retract it and drove her nails, sharper and harder than any talon I’d ever seen, into my forearm.
She took a moment to savour my reaction, and I let myself cry out even as I reached for the storm energy in a charm. The distraction her sadism allowed was enough, and I unleashed a powerful shock down my arm and into hers. The beauty of storm magic is that it’s extremely cooperative. It wants to strike and has no problem being directed. Using it as a basic electrocution in combat barely qualifies as spellcraft. It is, however, quite effective, if not a replacement for more complex workings.
The hag jerked backwards, staggering as the electricity passed through her, and I continued to pour it into her hideous face, lightning arcing from me to her even as she screamed. The question wasn’t whether she was going to fight through the attack, it was whether she would outlive my supply of lightning.
As I allowed the electricity to work, I drew my sword in my off hand and prepared for the possibility that she would outlast the attack. She was clearly a tough old bag, and I wasn’t going to end up on the back foot again. I finally came to the end of my storm energy and found her still standing, dazed and hoarse but neither bowed nor broken. I felt an unfamiliar magic draw up within her, a power that felt almost sidhe but for rough edges and squishy corners.
Before I could react, I felt the power suffuse my body, an aching like starvation and the sense of myself deflating overwhelming all other sensation. My body felt heavy and dead, like every inch of it was covered in a layer of lead. My sword dropped from my hands, my fingers too weak to hold it, and I knew I was in trouble.
I distanced myself from my body, letting myself stand in a droopy near-collapse as I focused my mind on the magic available to me. It was clear that she was draining away my life somehow, whether to use it herself or to dispense with entirely, but my mind was sharp. It was a spell meant for warriors, not witches, and that meant I wasn’t completely screwed. It was stupid to fight the spell directly when I knew nothing about it, so I didn’t. I was fit enough that my body could fight for itself. The finwife couldn’t say the same. I ran through spells I could make quickly enough to finish this. I was certain that she would soon feel confident enough in my weakness to go for the killing blow, and if I didn’t have something figured out by then it was game over.
Luckily, she returned to the speech she’d been giving before. Apparently she’d been a friend of James - the trapmaker, blackmailer, and all-around great guy - and his death had been the one to put the finishing touches on her vendetta. I couldn’t picture the unnerving but picturesque James being friends with anything that looked like that, but I had bigger things to concentrate on than arguing with her definition of friendship.
She’d been weakened, she had to have been, and weaker meant slower. Even if I couldn’t take her out hand to hand, her inability to evade things as she once had gave me an opportunity. Hydra venom magic readily reformed itself into the cloud that it was drawn from. What I had had been bought after I stupidly failed to gather the mass of it that had been left in the wake of the hydra that may or may not have been sent to kill me, but that was here nor there. As the cloud formed, I pressed it outwards with a gentle breeze formed of the magic in the air around me, driving it towards her in an extremely diffuse cloud too fine to spot with the naked eye.
If she’d been watching for magic, it would have been entirely obvious, but she had her mind fully embarked in the process of blaming me for everything that had ever gone wrong, so certain that I was helpless that she didn’t even see the need to kill me in any sort of hurry. As it arrived, I pressed the poison into a thick cloud around her head. When she saw it begin to form, she attempted to duck, but she’d used so much magic and suffered so much damage that she simply couldn’t outmanoeuvre the wind as fast as I could summon it. The venom got into her eyes and nose even as she desperately held her breath, and that was all it took. She dropped dead, her body as frail and brittle as it had seemed without the powerful will and even more powerful magic sustaining it.
It was a shame to see what must have once been a truly incredible being turned to nothing but a pile of bones, a mournful anti-climax. I hoped that I had given her some form of peace in the end. Hydra venom was one of the less painful ways to go. As much as I didn’t appreciate her jumping me, it was clear to see that she had been suffering for some time. It was a cruel curse to not be able to fall for your own kind else you’ll crumble as she had done.
Twelve
The Narrows were full of people who knew things. I just needed to find the right one. Sean had disappeared the moment the finwife hag had shown up, not that he’d have been much use to me anyway. I wasn’t going to risk another knowledge merchant. I was already having to waste time figuring out why the fixer was in town so Kate would give me something.
I tried to think who my best bet for information on something was. Going home empty handed was a failure state I wasn’t willing to face right then. Turning back the way I’d come, I considered Sven. His connections to the kelpies meant that he might be able to tell me something, or at least point me in the right direction. The kelpies liked to know what was going on so they could continue with their businesses unobstructed. The fae were less likely to feel the wrath of the court than non-fae. Some people said that the court fae were actually the ones running those drug distributors and other businesses.
Sven was leaning against the wall smoking something with deep red and purple smoke when I strolled down the path towards him. His eyes narrowed as he saw me approaching him.
“No,” he said.
I pouted.
“You don’t even know what I want.”
“Trouble. That’s all you are, all you do.”
I laughed. He was being so melodramatic. I’d never given him any trouble.
“What can you tell me about the arsonist who started up recently?”
“I’m not saying a word to you,” he said as he dropped the cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot.
“What would the kelpies say if they knew you were smoking their product instead of selling it?”
Sven laughed.
“They wouldn’t give a fuck as long as they were paid for it.”
I could feel the change in his magic. The shifting, swelling change of it that slowly stretched through his limbs.
“So they wouldn’t mind that you’re using it to make yourself something more?”
“Fucking witches. Fine. What do you want?” he spat.
I smiled sweetly.
“Tell me about the new arsonist in town.”
“I know nothing.”
He felt as though he was telling the truth.
“And the fixer?”
“The posh twat with black hair and green eyes? He likes the expensive bar near the Pavilion. The Last Call.”
“Good boy,” I said before I walked away.
He likely felt on top of the world, as though he was strong, better than he’d ever been. I’d felt the damage being done to him from the inside, though. The way the magic within the cigarette was corroding his own magic, leaving him needing more and more just to feel alive. Eventually he’d be nothing but a sad, desperate husk. He’d give the kelpies the world for one more hit, a
nd they’d take it.
As much as I was tempted to rock up to the Last Call, I decided it was better to head home. If nothing else, I wanted to know how Elijah’s dinner had gone. The twist of jealously annoyed me, but I knew what I’d gotten into when I slept with him. I went into it with my eyes wide open. That didn’t mean the new feelings were going to magically be normal right away.
Driving back through the city, I took my time enjoying the view over the ocean and then through the very edges of the forest. There might come a time when I had to give all of that up. If Varehn and his crew did enough digging, we might not have any choice but to leave for somewhere fresh and new.
Brighton hadn’t been my ideal home when I’d first looked around for somewhere to move to, but it had given me what I needed. I’d grown up with the rolling wildness of the Highlands around me, and there were times when I still craved that. Still, Brighton had charm and character like no other.
I pulled into my usual spot in front of the pack house and smiled, seeing that Elijah’s car was where it belonged. It was just a stupid dinner, and maybe he’d gotten some information we sorely needed. Varehn likely had every advantage thanks to the court, and I didn’t want to think about what would happen if we failed in this.
“How was dinner?” I called as I walked inside.
Elijah appeared in a pair of suit trousers and a pale blue shirt, which was half unbuttoned and entirely untucked from the trousers.
“I forgot how tedious that woman is. She tried to get the most expensive things on the menu, including four-grand bottle of champagne. Of course she had nothing; I should have known better.”
I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his neck.
“You smell of blood,” Elijah said with a frown.
“The finwife hag jumped me. I did, however, find out where the fixer hangs out. I’m heading over there tomorrow.”
He raised an eyebrow at me as he wrapped his hands around my hips and pulled me close.
“You can’t just stroll up to the fixer.”
“Why not?”
He sighed.
“Because he’s a fae fixer.”
“I don’t see the problem.”
He kissed me gently.
“And that’s part of what I love about you.”
Thirteen
The words slipped from his mouth so easily, as though he were saying he wanted duck breast for dinner. It took me a moment to really process them. On one hand, I knew that was where we were. We were life bound, after all. On the other, he’d never said them before. It was so very different hearing them out loud. I’d felt it in the small touches, seen it shining in his eyes. The sentiment was somehow so much more when he just casually said it, though. Was I supposed to say it back?
He leaned in and softly kissed behind my ear, drawing goosebumps out in his wake.
“Stay with me tonight,” he whispered.
After the fun we’d had earlier, how could I possibly say no? Although I’d never slept in someone’s arms before, not really. Not like how it would be with him.
“Of course,” I said.
I chided myself for being completely ridiculous. We were grown adults. This was all natural and normal.
“Any news from the others on the case? Phoenixes? Something?”
“Liam’s fallen down a rabbit hole with a couple of the symbols. Jess is doing whatever Jess does when she wears her sparkly dress.”
“Hopefully Kate will have something for us when I tell her why the fixer’s in town then.”
“Are you really just going to walk up to him?” Elijah said with a disbelieving laugh.
I shrugged.
“I don’t see why not. He’s just another fae.”
The lords and ladies were powerful. They’d had to fight for their position in the courts. Still, he was fallen, and I’d been practising both with and without my magic. I was confident that even without my shadow I could take him.
“Come to bed with me. It’s been a long day, and you’ve developed the habit of getting up at a ridiculous hour.”
How was I supposed to say no to that? I allowed him to guide me up the stairs to his room. There was a good chance I’d be missing my usual alarms the following morning, but it would be worth it.
Word had reached us that Varehn had been working very hard to dig into our pasts and see what there was to see. Liam had done everything he could to ensure that any digital records were sealed up tight and said exactly what we wanted them to say. Still, that didn’t stop real people from saying something which could land us in trouble. Jess and Rex had been more than happy to go out into the city and remind them what would happen if they said something wrong.
I’d spent the day looking through my old coven’s grimoires for anything that might help me track down and identify the arsonist and killer. I really wasn’t convinced that they were one and the same. It just felt like two very different crimes. The problem was going to be proving that, and that would be much easier if we had a motive.
The grimoires didn’t have much of anything of use. Most of the content was far more geared to things that would make the coven money or protect them. I’d found a couple of rituals that might have worked, but they called for three or more witches. As much as I was confident in my abilities, I didn’t want to risk something like that. Rituals were carefully calibrated. Knowing my luck, trying to do one alone would end up with my imploding or something ridiculous.
The solo spells and rituals weren’t giving me anything of use. There was an interesting one to forge a really good security system, one that could keep out a dragon if need be. I scribbled down the ingredients I’d need. With Varehn throwing his money into the ring to gather up as many mercs and thugs as he could, I’d feel much better if I could double down on the pack house security. What we had was certainly good, but there was no harm if having a second system there.
Jess sighed melodramatically. When the pack continued setting the table and preparing for lunch, she sighed more heavily. We were all used to the cat’s antics by now, and I bit back a smile as I settled myself into my usual seat.
“You lot are the worst,” she huffed as she sat down.
“Go ahead, Kerry,” Elijah said trying to hide his smile.
“Well, I went and spoke to Tom, you know, Beth’s older brother. The one with the missing eyebrow.”
Everyone gave a sound of acknowledgement. I had no clue who he was, but Kerry would give us his entire life history if we didn’t go along with this.
“So, he’s the most prolific firebug I know. He’s usually pretty good about keeping it under control: bonfires, the odd insurance job for good money. Anyway, I asked him if he knew of a new firebug in the city. He tends to keep an eye on them, as one turning the city to cinders puts them all at risk. You know, there are a lot more of them than you realise.”
“Right?” Liam took a sandwich from the middle of the table. “I’d expected there to be one or two. I mean, how many fire addicts can this city sustain? Apparently a lot. There’s even rumoured to be a club for them. I don’t know how that works, though, maybe some of them are satisfied watching any fire burn?”
“I’d heard that they need to set the fire to get the thrill.” Rex bit into his third sandwich. “The club could be where they gather to set small fires in controlled settings, though. Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen.”
“Oh, it was. A couple of them turned on the rest and tried to set them on fire. It became a whole thing. Five people died, and the club was thought to be disbanded. Some of them might still gather, but I couldn’t find any solid evidence one way or the other,” Liam said.
Elijah and I shared a long-suffering look.
“Jess, have you found our arsonist?” Elijah asked.
She frowned at him.
“No. Why would I have?”
“Because you were talking to your firebug people...”
“Oh! Oh, that. Yea, they were just pissed that someone was using th
e fires to kill people or hide the bodies. It puts pressure on all of them. They’ve been trying to track down the arsonist, but no luck so far.”
There was no point in telling her to get to the point. She enjoyed the rambling stories far too much for that.
“So you have nothing?” Elijah asked.
“Well, we know it’s not one of the usual people gone rogue,” she said with a slightly wounded expression.
Admittedly, being able to knock some names off the list was something.
Fourteen
It was almost midnight by the time I finished my preparations for my trip to The Last Call where the fixer was supposed to hang out. I wanted to have the spell I wished I’d had for the finwife ready before I walked into another unknown situation. Elijah had made his thoughts on my plan very clear.
“He’s a fixer, trained under Ryn himself. You can’t just stroll up to him and demand to know why he’s in town,” Elijah said.
“Why not? It’s not as though I’m trying to kill him or steal his work.”
Elijah’s mouth flattened into a thin line.
“Don’t underestimate him. Please.”
I put my hands up.
“I’m just asking him a question or two, then I’m leaving.”
He sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to change my mind. He had his own leads to chase down, else he’d have been glued to my side.
“Text me as soon as it’s done,” he said.
“Of course.”
I kissed him gently, knowing that it pained him to let me walk into this. It wasn’t such a big deal. Fixers didn’t cause trouble, they helped make sure that everything looked pretty with a bow on top. Killing one of the city’s most prestigious bounty hunters was the exact opposite of that.
The pack was spread out across the city that night. Everyone was leaning on every contact and chasing every little lead we could find. I hated it. The longer I spent with Elijah and the more I allowed the bond between us to grow, the more protective I became over the pack.
