Deadly Vows

by Arthur, Keri

Fuck.

  Panic surged, and my gaze darted left and right; there was no one on the street, and absolutely no indication that I was being watched.

  It didn’t matter.

  He’d been here once.

  He’d be back.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I remained in the doorway, dripping water onto the floorboards as I studied the shadows with both my regular senses and my psychic. There was no sign of intrusion. No sense that someone waited inside, ready to pounce. No emotion in the air beyond the echoes of warmth and happiness that lingered after yesterday’s trading.

  The building remained safe. I was safe. For now.

  But that would only last until Clayton figured out a way to get past the wild magic.

  A chill crawled up my spine, and it wasn’t entirely due to my soaked shoes and cold feet. I stepped inside and then closed and locked the door. But I didn’t immediately move; I simply stood there, my forehead resting against the door, sucking in air and trying to control the fear that rampaged through me.

  I wasn’t sixteen. I wasn’t powerless. Not anymore.

  And yet the knowledge that Clayton was now in the reservation—that it would only be a matter of time before he confronted us—made me feel like that frightened teenager all over again.

  I’m coming home. Belle’s thought was sharp and worried.

  Don’t. Our deeper protections still stand, so I really am safe. He won’t dare tackle the wild magic—he saw what it did to my mother.

  And what if you’re wrong? What if he was just waiting for you to arrive?

  Then it’s better that you remain at a distance. It allows me to call on either your talents or your strength if necessary, without putting you in his path.

  We can’t hide forever, Liz, and I for one have no intention of doing so. This is part of his game. This is what he wants—us in a state of panic.

  Well, it’s damn well working.

  Because of what you went through. Because of what he did. But you’re not that person anymore.

  I know. I sucked in another of those breaths that did little to help the sick churning in my gut and pushed away from the door. I can’t imagine Kash will be happy about leaving the party early.

  Like I really care what he thinks when he’s chatting up another woman. Besides, Monty’s already volunteered to bring me home.

  Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn’t help smiling. Of course he did.

  He thinks it would be a good idea if he adds an additional protection layer over ours.

  I frowned. Why? Clayton could bust his magic as easily as he did ours.

  Yes, but he believes it might just make Clayton rethink a second entry attempt.

  Again, why? He was never one to worry too much about what those lower in power thought.

  I know, but Monty is the resident witch here and, as such, the government’s mouthpiece. Even Clayton can’t afford to disrespect that.

  Maybe. Maybe not. I guess it really depends on whether his anger is more the “I made a deal and you will honor it” or the “I’ve gone insane and you will pay” type.

  I suspect it might be the latter—especially if my anti-erection spell really has lasted all these years.

  There was no regret in Belle’s mental tone, but why would there be? She’d unleashed that spell to save me from rape, and if Clayton had spent the years since in manhood hell, then I for one thought it well deserved.

  Though I had no doubt we were both likely to pay a high price for it.

  We’ll be there in half an hour, she continued. Have the coffee ready.

  Will do.

  I sent Aiden a quick text to explain what had happened and asked him to be careful. His response was immediate and made me smile: Do you need me there?

  No, I sent back, Monty and Belle are coming home to help shore up our defenses. We’ll be fine.

  And if I said that often enough, I might even start to believe it.

  I headed upstairs for a shower, though the heat didn’t really do much to chase the chill from my flesh. Once dressed, I trundled back downstairs to put on the kettle and consoled myself with a thick slab of chocolate cake.

  Monty and Belle arrived just over ten minutes later.

  “Fuck,” I said, as they walked through the door. “You must have broken the land speed record to get here so fast.”

  Monty’s grin flashed. “I figured that if the rangers did pull me over, I’d just have to say you were under attack, and I’d probably get a lights-and-sirens escort here.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on that,” I replied, amused. “Especially if it was Tala who pulled you over.”

  Tala was Aiden’s second-in-charge, and though she’d come to accept that my abilities were real, and even somewhat useful, she tended to play by the rules even more than Aiden.

  “Even Tala would know better than to delay us when your safety is on the line,” Monty said.

  “Except in this case, it wasn’t. And you were well aware of that.”

  “Yeah, but she wouldn’t have been.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Clayton really did a number on your spells, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.” I finished making our coffees, sliced up more chocolate cake—it was definitely a two-pieces-of-cake night for me—and then carried it all over. “But at least he didn’t get in.”

  “Only thanks to the threads of wild magic,” Belle commented. “Which means we’ll need to use it to shore up—”

  “No,” I cut in. “Under no circumstances.”

  “Why?” Monty accepted his coffee with a nod and helped himself to a piece of cake. “He now knows you can use the wild magic, so why bother pretending otherwise?”

  “If my inner wild magic remains concealed, then we might get away with saying the wellspring was still unrestrained when we created those spells and that its presence was unintentional.”

  Monty snorted. “And how many of the witches who’ve stepped into this café have actually believed that statement?”

  “Not many, but remember, Clayton’s memories are of an underpowered sixteen-year-old. He won’t be looking for anything more.”

  “And if you can keep shielding as well as you are at the moment,” Belle said, “it gives us a slight advantage over the bastard.”

  “Maybe.” I scooped up some chocolate cake and munched on it contemplatively. “Monty, did your dad have any success digging out the marriage certificate?”

  He shook his head. “The priest who performed the ceremony died a few years later—”

  “Isn’t that convenient,” Belle said, voice dry.

  “He was older than Methuselah when he performed the ceremony,” I said. “I’m surprised he lasted a few years—I’d have thought a few days would have been stretching it.”

  “Why is his death a problem?” Belle asked. “The marriage would have been registered with the Witch Registry of Births, Deaths, and Marriages—”

  “And, by law, access to such a record is restricted for sixty years,” Monty said. “Liz can certainly request a copy of it, as can an attorney on her behalf, but my father can’t.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Maybe that’s what I need to do, though it will out the situation to everyone up there, and that may make things worse.”

  “I’m not entirely sure they can get worse, especially given it will take time for the request to be processed,” Monty said. “And even if we do get the certificate, it doesn’t actually prove his guilt.”

  “It proves she was underage when it happened,” Belle retorted.

  “Which doesn’t mean anything if there was parental approval—and there was.”

  “Yeah, it was just the bride that didn’t approve.” I scooped up more chocolate cake. “And how in the hell are we supposed to prove that? It’ll be my word against that of my parents and him—and we all know who the courts are likely to believe.”

  “There is one way,” Monty said. “But it will mean reliving everything that happened.”

>   “And?” I said, as he ate some more cake rather than continuing.

  “Well, didn’t you say Ashworth had asked the Black Lantern Society to do a little underground investigating?”

  “Yes, but the records are locked down magically and they can’t access them without alerting either my father or Clayton.”

  “Which is just another pointer to the influence they have in Canberra,” Belle said, voice dry. “And while locking a record in such a manner is illegal, it’s more a misdemeanor few will quibble about.”

  “Except for the fact that their actions point to guilt more than innocence,” Monty said. “And it gives the Society a legal reason to get involved. They’re not just underground purveyors of justice—they also have a history of representing less-fortunate witches against the High Council in court cases. As such, they have both attorneys and truth seekers on their books.”

  “Truth seekers?” Belle asked. “Is that a psychic or magical talent?”

  “It’s a bit both, really. They usually work with an auditor, who records the session and ensures everything being done is above board and legal.”

  “Great, but how’s that going to help us?” I asked.

  “Simple. We get Ashworth to request a seeker ASAP. They record what happened for posterity, and when Clayton makes a move on you, we threaten to take him and your father to court. They may be powerful, but they aren’t above the law.”

  “I’m not entirely sure of that.” My voice was grim. “I’d hazard a guess that my father is on first-name terms with at least half of the presiding judges.”

  Monty’s smile was rather fierce. “And the Black Lantern Society has the pull and the power to request none of them preside over the case.”

  “If this society is so powerful, how come they’re not more well-known?” Belle said. “I can’t remember hearing anything about them when we were up there.”

  “We were teenagers,” Monty replied dryly. “It’s not like we paid a whole lot of attention to the legal happenings of the world.”

  “True, I guess.”

  He reached across the table and grabbed my hands. “Liz, if you want to be free from Clayton, then you have to take the fight to him. What he and your father did was not only wrong, but also illegal. We know that, they know that. That’s why they’ve kept their search for you under the radar; it’s why Clayton has made no mention of it in nearly thirteen years. They want you back, but in a manner that will raise few suspicions.”

  “And Clayton suddenly appearing with a reluctant wife in tow won’t raise any suspicions at all now, will it?” Belle said, her tone sarcastic.

  “Well, no, because she’s no longer sixteen. In fact, I expect most would consider it an advantageous marriage for Liz, considering her lack of magical strength.”

  I pulled my hands from Monty’s and rubbed my forehead wearily. “If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s the fact that he won’t play fair, which means we really have no choice but to fight him any way we can. I’ll talk to Ashworth tomorrow.”

  “Good,” Monty said. “In the meantime, let’s get the protections around this place shored up.”

  He picked up his coffee and strode toward the reading room without waiting for either of us.

  Belle’s gaze met mine, her expression one of tolerant amusement. You can’t fault his determination to keep you safe.

  Keeping me safe also keeps his future wife safe. I pushed away from the table with a laugh as she tried to whack me. You enjoyed his company tonight, and we both know it.

  Well, yes, but please don’t tell him that. He’ll be unbearable.

  “Ladies, stop the secret squirrel business and get your butts in here.”

  “He’s not going to attack again tonight.” I picked up my coffee and followed Belle into the reading room. “He’ll wait until he thinks we’ve relaxed a little.”

  “Expect the unexpected is a motto I think we should all adopt right now.” Monty pushed the furniture to one side then sat cross-legged on the floor. “Ready, ladies?”

  I nodded, and after a deep breath to center our energy, we began to spell, weaving line after line of protection magic around and through the remaining threads. Monty then ran an alarm thread around the entire lot. While it wouldn’t take much to unpick, he assured us we’d all know the minute anyone attacked our spells, no matter where we were in the reservation.

  By the time we finished, twenty minutes had slipped by and all three of us were close to exhaustion.

  I picked up the empty cups and climbed wearily to my feet. “Are you coming in for breakfast tomorrow?”

  He hesitated. “No, as I’ll need to check in with Aiden on the murders first. Besides, it’s better if we leave the council of war until the afternoon, when you’re not as busy. But I’ll send Ashworth a text when I get home—the sooner he’s updated, the better.”

  “It’s close to midnight—he’s not going to be happy.”

  “I know,” he said cheerfully. “That’s the whole point.”

  I snorted and headed out of the room. As I rinsed the cups, Belle followed him to the front door and locked up behind him. Then she walked back and gave me a fierce hug.

  “It will, in the end, be all right. I’m positive of that, if nothing else.”

  I smiled. “Is that wishful thinking or one of those vague premonitions you’ve started getting?”

  She shrugged. “Who can be sure? It’s not like I’m used to this whole premonition thing. That’s supposed to be your talent, not mine.”

  And it had been, up until the moment we’d been forced to utterly merge minds in order to thrust out a white witch who’d decided to claim Belle’s body as her own.

  “Unfortunately,” I said, “My premonition skill set is telling me quite the opposite; if we get out of this alive and intact, it’ll be something of a miracle.”

  Belle’s gaze swept my face, concern evident. “Clayton might be incandescent with fury, but even he wouldn’t resort to murder.”

  “He doesn’t have to—not to make life hell for us.” I shivered and rubbed my arms. “But you were right before—we can’t let him get to us. We need to continue on as normal—with just a little bit more caution.”

  “Which means no going anywhere alone.” She pointed sternly at me. “Got that?”

  I saluted lightly. “Loud and clear, ma’am.”

  She snorted and pushed me toward the stairs. “Go to bed.”

  I did. And, rather surprisingly, slept long and deep. But perhaps my body was simply getting as much as it could before the shit hit the fan.

  * * *

  The café was insanely busy from the get-go, so it wasn’t until midafternoon that I had a chance to look at my phone and saw that Ashworth had left a message asking me to ring him as soon as possible.

  “Hey, what’s up?” I said, the moment he answered.

  “A hell of a lot from the sound of things, lassie.” His Scottish accent was a little more evident this morning, suggesting he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “Got a text from Monty at midnight and have set a few things in motion.”

  My stomach twisted. Every step we took toward protecting ourselves was one step closer to confrontation.

  “With the Black Lantern Society, I take it?”

  “Yes. My sister was none-too-pleased about being woken at such an ungodly hour, but that soon passed once I told her it was about Clayton.”

  I frowned. “Why? What’s changed up there that’s made him to go from an eminent and well-respected member of the High Council to someone who has more than a few enemies?”

  “Everyone in high power has enemies, lass, but Clayton has done himself no favors over the last few years. Even your father has somewhat distanced himself—”

  “Is he still in Canberra?”

  “He was as of last night.”

  A tide of relief swept me. It didn’t really mean anything, because it really wouldn’t take that long for him to jump on a plane and get to the reserv
ation. But, at least for the time being, we only had one autocratic asshole to deal with.

  “Sophie agrees that our best shot of bringing both him and your father to court to face questioning, and hopefully disciplinary action, is to employ the services of a reader and auditor immediately. As such, they’ll be down within the next thirty-six hours.”

  I blinked. “That’s fast.”

  “We need to be fast.” His voice was grim. “If either man gets word of the Society’s uptake of your cause, it could escalate things badly.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure how things could get much worse than what was already coming, but I wasn’t about to put that out there, just in case fate was listening and decided to take up the challenge.

  “Thanks, Ira. I really do appreciate your help.”

  “Least I can do for my favorite witch—aside from Eli, of course.” The amusement in his tone faded as he added, “In the meantime, use that anti-tracking charm we created for you.”

  “Will it work against someone like Clayton?”

  “Until he gets close enough to sense the magic or he realizes the reason he can’t track you means there’s a spell at work, yes.”

  “Hopefully neither will happen anytime soon. We need the breathing space.”

  “Chin up, lass. You’re not alone in this fight. We’re all behind you, no matter what happens.”

  Tears touched my eyes and I blinked them away. “I know.”

  “Good. Then stop fretting; you’ll only make yourself ill.”

  I smiled. “You’re sounding more and more like my grandfather every day.”

  “This would be the dead grandfather?”

  “Well, yes, but you know what I mean.”

  He chuckled. “I do. Talk soon.”

  I hung up and accepted the mug of coffee Belle shoved into my hands. “Just got a call from Monty—he’s off to meet some friend of his who’s an expert in the occult. Apparently he’s only in Victoria for the day.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Why did he ring you rather than me? And how did he get your phone number?”

  “I gave it to him last night—I figured it’d be a good safety precaution if you suddenly went missing.”

  “If I suddenly went missing, you could contact him telepathically.”