“Maybe.” Monica’s gaze was distant. “We got caught. The coven elders figured out what we were up to. We were both chucked out the coven. Death magics are forbidden, zero tolerance. Jeremiah brought me here—vampires can use distraught fifteen-year-old witches with no moral compass. Kseniya’s parents took her away. I don’t know where. She was forbidden contact with me.”
“That’s why you wanted to help her, now,” Nathan said, putting the pieces together in his head.
“Yes. I don’t know how she ended up getting involved with the Sahir… but helping me… that was the first step.”
“That’s a pretty big leap,” Nathan said. “It’s been seven years since then. Anything could have happened during that time.”
“Nate, you don’t understand what it means to be excommunicated as a witch. No other coven will take you,” Monica insisted. “I should never have involved her in my drama—it’s what I do, drag everyone down with me. I’m doing it to you, too. It’s just the same.”
“Stop,” Nathan said firmly. “For one, trust me, I do know what it means to be excommunicated. Hunters have the exact same traditions. For another, you have never dragged me down. I’m capable of making my own decisions, Monica. So is Kseniya. You can’t take responsibility for other people like that. We’re free agents.”
“Free agents who got involved in my shit.”
“I’m pretty sure this one is my shit,” Nathan said. “Anyway, I’m not giving up now. We’ll find Kseniya and get her out of there. Maybe this is a mistake. Maybe they threatened her. We can still help her.”
Monica sniffled and pulled away from him. “You think?”
“Sure. No one’s beyond help, right?”
Monica smiled, and Nathan had an inkling that they were no longer talking about Kseniya here. Well, he’d help Monica too. After this crisis was resolved.
He got up. “What do you need to scry her?”
“Something personal.”
“Did she leave anything?”
“She didn’t need to.” Monica went to her desk and opened a drawer, pulling out a Ziplock bag. “I have cuttings of everyone’s hair, just in case.”
“Mine, too?” Nathan asked in alarm. Monica nodded. “Wow, paranoid much?”
“I don’t like the idea that you could be in trouble and I couldn’t find you,” Monica said defensively.
“Fine.” Nathan sighed. “Do your thing.”
Nathan sat on the bed whilst Monica set up the scrying circle. The circle itself was painted onto her floor in white paint, hidden beneath the rug. The runes were witch runes, not the sort that hunters used. They might have been Greek. Monica filled one bowl with water and sprinkled a few white-blond hairs into another, setting each of them in the circle. She lit one candle and drizzled wax onto the floor, using it to stick four candles at each of the four compass points around the circle.
Then Monica knelt in front of the circle and began to chant. This was the part that took time. Nathan laid his head back against the wall and shut his eyes. He was still tired. After a second, he opened them again. He didn’t have time to go to sleep now. He glanced around for something to distract himself, and his eyes lit on something suspicious.
Hidden amidst the feathers of Monica’s collection of dreamcatchers was a little hunk of wood with a word carved into it. Not a rune, this was in Cyrillic: слух. Hearing. The writing glistened greenish-grey to his magical sight. He reached up and plucked it down.
“I can’t get anything clear.” Monica sat back on her heels. “Wherever she is, the anti-scrying wards are phenomenal.”
“I can think of a few places.”
“Yeah, the Witch Council inner sanctum, for one,” Monica said. “What’s that?” She gestured to Nathan’s hand.
“Oh.” Nathan showed her the ward. “I’m guessing Kseniya left it, to keep an eye on us.”
Monica’s eyes lit up. “It’s her magic? Fantastic, give it here.”
Nathan tossed it to her and watched detachedly as Monica got rid of the water and set up a new spell. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. It was Aunt Anna.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m just on my way back. Kseniya bailed and Monica’s trying to do a spell to track her.”
“Never mind that,” said Aunt Anna. She sounded… terrified. Nathan’s heart clenched. “You need to come home right now.”
“What happened?”
“Cathy Rymes just called,” Aunt Anna said. “Cynthia’s missing.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“NATHAN!” AUNT ANNA SHOUTED as Nathan dashed past her to his room. “I’ve told Ms Rymes we’ll—”
“Be there in a sec!”
He dashed into his room. It was an unholy mess, clothes all over the floor. His keys were on his bedside, where he usually left them, and he saw instantly that Cynthia’s tracking ward had triggered. Unable to get Nathan’s attention—because he didn’t have it on him—it had eventually burnt out. Now, it smouldered a bit, and when he picked the keys up, he discovered a burnt patch in the shape of the leather keyring on his bedside table.
Monica had followed Nathan in. He showed her the keyring. “Fuck.”
“Give here,” she said. “I can use that to track her.”
Aunt Anna and Mum were waiting downstairs.
“Nathan,” Mum started immediately. “I know this is a blow, but—”
“Don’t start, Mum!”
“I don’t think you should go rushing off.”
“This has nothing to do with her being my girlfriend,” Nathan said. “She’s my friend and she’s in trouble, and even if I didn’t have a lick of hunter training, I still wouldn’t leave her to rot.”
“I know, but—”
“Can I get on with helping her, then?”
Mum was silent for a moment, her lips twisting. Finally, she said, “I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter!”
“Nathan, calm down,” Aunt Anna said firmly, “we’re all trying to help.”
Nathan glared at them impatiently. Couldn’t they see there was no time to waste?
“Rushing off doesn’t help anyone,” Mum said, “you know that. Take a deep breath, think about what your next steps are.”
“We need to get something of Cynthia’s, to scry her with,” Monica said.
“I told Cathy you’d call her when you got home,” Aunt Anna said.
Nathan forced himself to take a deep breath.
“Okay,” he said. “Okay.” He pulled his phone out. “Will you drive me up there?” he asked his aunt.
“I’ll take you,” Mum said. Nathan was about to protest, but she stopped him. “I know we’ve had our differences, your father too, but we’re not going to leave you to fight your battles alone, Nathan. You’re our son.”
Nathan stared at her, feeling rather touched. “That’s… I mean… Mum…” He scrambled for words and finally settled on, “Thanks. It means a lot.”
Mum clapped him on the shoulder and turned to Monica. “You need to set up a scrying circle?”
“On the kitchen table,” Aunt Anna said. “I’ll get candles.”
She and Monica vanished down the hall. Nathan called Cynthia’s home number, and a moment later, her mother picked up.
“Hello? Cynthia?”
“Hi, Ms Rymes. It’s Nathan.”
“Oh God, oh God. I heard what happened—thank goodness you’re okay—first you and now Cynthia—”
“It’s okay,” Nathan said firmly. “Please calm down. I need you to tell me what happened.”
Ms Rymes made a show of taking deep breaths. “I got a call from the school about forty minutes ago. Cynthia never turned up for her first class.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve driven up and down the road, looking for her. I tried calling her phone, but I found it on the ground, smashed. Her bag was thrown into the hedge. Oh God, they’ve got her, I know they have, please tell me that bracelet you gave her will work and
you can track her—”
“Monica’s working on it now.” Nathan tried to pitch his voice to be comforting, but it was hard when panic was threatening to close up his throat. “I’ve got Mum and Aunt Anna helping me. We’ll find her.”
“Please—I—God, this is my fault. She asked me and I lied to her! I should have told her—”
“It’s okay, Ms Rymes. This isn’t your fault.”
“It is,” Ms Rymes wailed. “You don’t understand!”
Nathan took a steadying breath. He could hear voices from the kitchen, and he wanted desperately to go and see what was happening. Mum watched him worriedly. He forced himself to focus. One problem at a time.
“This is on the Sahir, not you,” he said.
“That’s just it,” Ms Rymes sobbed. “I lied, to Cynthia, to you. I should have come clean, but I just couldn’t. I was too ashamed. If I’d told her, she would have understood the danger, she might have come away with me by now…”
“I don’t understand.”
“Cynthia’s father… he’s one of them.”
It was like a rug had been pulled out from under Nathan’s feet. For a moment, he was robbed of words.
“One of… the Sahir?”
“I met him when I was nineteen, I didn’t realise, I swear. I ran as soon as I found out, and I don’t know how he knew about Cynthia, but he’s never stopped following us since—”
Well, fuck.
“Okay,” Nathan said, scrambling for an intelligent answer. “Okay, thank you for telling me, but—” That doesn’t help me. He bit his tongue. “Okay. Monica is scrying for Cynthia. I’ll let you know as soon as we have news. You need to make sure you and Emma are safe. Can they—how well protected is your house?”
“I… not very. I don’t know anything about wards. That was always witch business.”
“Alright. Maybe the best thing would be for us to come up there—”
“Nate?” Monica called.
He lowered the phone. “Coming!” Returning to Ms Rymes, he asked, “Can I call you back?”
“Of course, of course.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Please find her.”
“I will.”
“Thank you.”
“Speak to you soon. Bye.” Nathan hung up and hurried into the kitchen. Monica and Aunt Anna were hunched over the table, peering into a bowl of water. It took Nathan several moments to understand what he was seeing: Cynthia’s protective bangle was lying amidst all manner of junk on a riverbed, no longer attached to its wearer.
“They threw it in the river?”
“Off Magdalen Bridge, looks like,” Monica confirmed.
“Fuck!” Nathan slammed his fist into the wall. Cynthia had been in trouble, and he’d been too busy sleeping to help her!
Pain lanced up his arm, numbing his fury.
“Nathan!” Aunt Anna snapped.
“I’m fine.” Nathan shook his hand out. It hurt and his knuckles were scraped, but otherwise there was no damage. He couldn’t even punch walls properly.
“Getting in a temper won’t help,” Mum said.
“I’m not in a temper,” Nathan said. “I just need to think clearly. Let me call—” He stopped himself before he said ‘Adrian’. The last thing he needed now was a row with Mum over his vampire uncle. He caught Monica’s eye and she nodded.
Nathan left the room and pulled his phone out. He called Adrian, but the call went through to voicemail. So did the next two tries. Nathan left a message.
“Hi, it’s Nate. They’ve taken Cynthia. Monica’s trying to scry her, but no luck yet. Call me when you get this.”
Then he called Lily. The phone rang and rang. Nathan was beginning to despair when she finally picked up.
“Hi, Nate. Sorry I made you wait. I had to sneak out of my lecture.”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Nathan said. “I’m trying to get hold of Adrian, but he’s not picking up.”
“Oh,” Lily said, and that one word contained a depth of information that Nathan couldn’t quite grasp for a second. Delicately, she continued, “Nathan, I haven’t heard from Adrian. He went to visit you in hospital, but he never came back.”
Adrian had come to visit him in hospital? Touching, but not helpful right now. Nathan pushed those thoughts away.
“When was that?”
“Saturday afternoon,” Lily said. “I was… I’ve been worried. Did you see him? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Nathan said. “I was under a sleeping curse. I didn’t see Adrian—I didn’t even know he was there.”
“Oh,” Lily said again. “If you hear from him, will you call me?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“That’s okay, I’m glad you’re alright,” Lily said.
“Bye.” Nathan hung up. His heart was beating frantically in his chest, and he forced himself to take a deep breath as he went back to the kitchen.
“Mum, did Adrian ever come by the hospital whilst I was there?” Despite his best efforts, the words came out like an accusation. Mum looked up sharply.
“No, I never saw him. Unless he came at night, when your father was there.”
Dad had been at the hospital? Nathan pushed that revelation away as well. He could think about it later. “Saturday afternoon.”
“I was there all of Saturday from when we took you in until about seven PM,” Mum said. “I never saw him.”
“Nate?” Monica asked worriedly.
“I called Lily,” Nathan told her. “Adrian’s been missing since Saturday.”
“Shit,” Monica said. “That’s bad.”
“Yes,” Nathan said. It was all that needed to be said. Adrian was missing. Cynthia was missing. Someone, somehow, had known where all of them would be, and was steadily splitting up their group. Divide and conquer. Nathan immediately resolved not to let Monica out of his sight.
His phone buzzed.
“It’s Dad. What would he want?” Nathan asked in confusion. He put the phone to his ear and said cautiously, “Hi, Dad.”
“Nathan,” Dad said sternly. “Where are you? Longhorn’s asking for you. I’m coming to pick you up.”
“What? Why?”
“I have no idea,” Dad said. “But please, for the love of God, just be respectful. I can’t take any more trouble from you this century.”
Ouch.
“Fine, I’m at home,” Nathan snapped. “Want me to change into a suit and tie, too?”
“Whatever you’re wearing will be fine,” Dad said, matching Nathan’s angry tone. “Just be ready when I get there. I’ll be fifteen minutes.” He hung up.
“What is it?” Monica asked.
“I’ve been summoned by the Hunter Council,” Nathan said. “Dad’s picking me up.”
“Damn,” Monica said. “Is that bad?”
“I doubt it’s anything good,” Nathan said. “Probably more trouble over Adrian, right?” He glanced at Mum, but worryingly she looked as confused as he felt. Great.
Nathan dressed in his hunter uniform and was strapping the last of his knives in place when he heard the car pulling up outside. He took the stairs two at a time and stopped in the kitchen.
“I’ll try and make it as quick as I can.”
“Okay,” Monica said. “We’re going to drive up to Cynthia’s place.”
“Thanks.”
Dad entered the kitchen. “Are you ready?” He looked Nathan up and down, and Nathan must have passed muster, because he looked grimly satisfied.
“What’s going on, Ben?” Mum asked.
“No idea. Longhorn requested him,” Dad said. “Let’s just hope this isn’t more trouble for our family. The last thing we need is Nathan’s teenage rebellion dragging us all down.”
Nathan flinched. Monica laid a hand on his arm.
“Good luck,” she whispered.
“You, too,” Nathan replied. Then he followed his father outside and climbed into the car.
Dad said nothing as he pulled away from t
he house. Nathan considered asking him questions, but one look at his father said that Benjamin Delacroix was not in the mood for talking. He drove out of their street, but instead of turning left towards the the Hunter Council office, he turned right. A nasty suspicion started up in Nathan’s chest.
Fuck…
They pulled onto the A34. “Dad, where are we going?” Nathan asked.
“The prison.”
“What?” Nathan said. “Dad, no! I can’t leave town right now. You have to take me back.”
“Longhorn wants to see you at the prison.”
“You don’t understand! I don’t have time for this—Cynthia’s in danger!”
“Hunter business takes precedence,” Dad snapped. “This is your problem—you go running around after witches and shapeshifters. You’re a hunter first. You need to learn to put the hunters ahead of your personal drama.”
“Being a hunter is not more important to me than Cynthia’s life,” Nathan snarled.
“I don’t care about your little animal girlfriend,” Dad said. “Belt it, Nathan.”
Nathan glared at his father, but his father just ignored him as he accelerated down the dual carriageway. Nathan pulled his phone out and sent a frantic text to Monica.
Nathan: Dad’s taking me to the fucking prison
Monica: The what?
Nathan: Hunter facility halfway to London. Won’t turn back. What do I do?
Monica: SHIT
Monica: Won’t he listen to reason?
Nathan: Of course not
Monica: Your dad’s such a shithead
Monica: Calling Jeremiah
There was a long wait before she sent another message. Nathan’s heart was in his mouth. Finally, as they hit the M40, his phone buzzed again.
Monica: Jeremiah has agreed to help, but you’re going to owe him big time
Monica: Sorry Nate, was the best I could do
Nathan: I don’t care if he wants my firstborn right now
Monica: Got it. Aodhán is going to back me up
Nathan sighed in relief. He didn’t know a damn thing about Aodhán, but Aodhán worked for Jeremiah, and Nathan was probably going to pay for Jeremiah’s help in blood, so he better damn well deliver. One thing you could count on with Jeremiah was that he had a sense of honour a mile wide. He’d come through.
Wicked Magic Page 28
