CHAPTER 13

 

 

 

Just as Astix released the aura around her and Morgan, a loud thud on the front door interrupted the conversation. Karsia and Astix both swiveled their heads around at the sound while Morgan stood still, considering their options.

“It could be Elon doubling back. He doesn’t have a key.” Astix rubbed her elbows and sighed. “Dad is still upstairs, so I’ll go let him in.”

Karsia jerked, her teeth bared. “You think I can’t get out of this bind? I can!”

“You just stay there and try.” Astix studied her sister closely and whatever she saw there had her hastening her steps. She wrapped her hand around the massive doorknob and pulled. “Be good.”

The moment Astix left the room, Karsia wiggled her toes and broke the enchantment. It was easy to find the weakness in her sister’s magic and exploit it until the gems turned dark. The taint of her power flared out and filled her senses with the smell of dead things and rotting garbage.

“It was getting a little hard to hold it without laughing.” She plopped down on the couch and cracked her neck with such force it would have broken under different circumstances. Grinning at Morgan, she stretched her cramped muscles. “I let her think it worked,” she told him. “So she feels safe.”

“This is a game to you?” he asked, eyeing the creature in front of him. “I didn’t realize you cared enough about her feelings.”

Karsia shot him a sly smile. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Morgan was already making for the door as he tried to puzzle out her last bit of information. “I should go check on everyone.”

“Oh, stay here. It’s not like I’m playing games with you.” Her grin turned smug. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Right?”

His surprise was there and gone in an instant. “We’re going to fix this,” he told her with an appropriate amount of sympathy and honesty.

“Don’t waste your breath. My hope is gone, and you’re only here to look pretty.”

 

**

 

Astix moved down the hallway to the open foyer, the ceiling soaring two stories overhead. A single staircase curved gracefully to the left and connected both floors of the house. She remembered her mother in her glory days, with such fondness for grand entrances, sweeping down those stairs with the poise and grace of Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with the Wind. Always a fan of making a scene, with a fabulous flair for the dramatic.

Would Varvara recover to take up the mantle again?

Everything looked the same. Runners of deep crimson reached down the length of the long center hallway. Numerous cleaning ladies were kept on retainer. The floors, woodwork, and furniture gleamed like stars under the light of the crystal chandelier. The rooms were characteristically neat, except for her father’s study.

Astix wondered if the house would fall into disarray while her mother stayed in a coma, or if Thorvald had the cleaning service on speed dial.

The ambiance was one of means. Years of polish and familiar charm. There had been parties there, more regularly than not, women in expensive dress and garb gliding down those halls in style. Her father’s banking associates gathered in the den and smoking parlor, puffing religiously on cigars and pontificating dryly about market management and fiscal years.

Those days were in the past. Would probably never be again.

Pushing the memories aside, Astix turned the knob, opening the front door to reveal three men on the stoop. They looked like a flock of crows, dressed in matching black suits and shoes and coats. The coats were hung from their shoulders, casually, as if the cold didn’t bother them, leaving the coat sleeves dangling like limp wings.

Her mind flashed back to the three dead crows she’d found on her doorstep. Ice formed in her veins and her back stiffened.

“Cavaldi residence?” the first man asked. A large brimmed hat hid the majority of his face from sight though she caught a flash of pale hair, deep eyes, white teeth.

“Who are you?” Astix refused to budge. Her fingers dug into the wooden molding of the doorjamb.

No one spoke.

“Astix?” Thorvald croaked out from the top of the stairs.

She glanced up at her father, surprised he’d found the strength to move. “Dad.”

He hung over the railing and peered down at them. “Are you folks from the hospital?” His salt-and-pepper hair was stringy from days of negligence, unkempt and straw-like. The hand gripping the banister trembled.

Astix registered the changes, knowing on any given day she would have fired back with a retort that was both insolent and creative. Now those words dried on her tongue and she felt only pity.

“I’m going to assume you’re not from the hospital,” Astix muttered, returning her attention to the strangers. She might not be able to detect magical signatures from them, but her intuition was screaming.

At last the lead man dropped his hat to his chest and spoke in dulcet tones. “You know what they say about when you assume, Miss.”

“Do I know you?”

“Not yet.” The man finally glanced up, his smile deepening. “But you will soon.”

“Get down!” Thorvald roared.

Astix didn’t question the demand and immediately dropped to the floor. Her knee bashed into the marble as she rolled to the side. The three men shed their coats, their exposed hands primed with magic at their sides. They walked inside.

“We don’t want any trouble, Mr. Cavaldi,” the first stated with forced calm. Sparks flew and Astix saw, out of the corner of her eyes, this wasn’t ordinary magic. “There is no need for conflict here. We simply want to take your daughters downtown for a word. All three of them.”

“You lose the right to a peaceful negotiation the instant you walk into my house uninvited.” Thorvald raised his fists threateningly. Instantly, both glowed with a deep, eggplant-purple aura. “Now get out. I won’t tell you a second time.”

“Dad? Don’t do anything stupid,” Astix cautioned, her arms over her head.

“I’m afraid we can’t leave, sir. We are under strict orders to apprehend the girls.”

“Orders from whom?”

“Orestes Voltaire.”

Astix glanced up, color draining from her face and leaving it stiff. “Leo?” she squeaked out.

“Then it seems Orestes and I are of differing opinions yet again.” Thorvald straightened his back. “The girls are leaving, but not with you. I would never allow a man like Orestes to harm my children.”

“Your children are a menace to society,” the man said with a snarl, the others flanking close behind him and bodies tensed for action. “One an abomination, one a sociopath, and the other willing to destroy an entire city block for her own amusement. Thank goodness we have the fourth in our Vault, withering away and begging to see the sunlight. Our people need to feel safe. This is the only way we can continue to do our jobs.”

“You’re wrong.”

“They must be taken in immediately for the protection of our community.”

“My wife is in a coma, thanks to you,” Thorvald growled, “and you have the audacity to come here and insult me? Threaten my children and taunt me with my son? Tell Orestes he can have my girls over my cold, dead body.”

“If that’s what you want. No one can say we didn’t warn you.” All three men raised their hands chest-level.

Thorvald retaliated quickly, shards of marble from the stairs shattering and raining down on them like tiny projectiles.

“Gentlemen, prepare yourselves.”

Savage glee warred with despair when he drew on every ounce of magic he possessed, knowing the secrets of the house like the back of his hand. There were precautions in place for such an occasion, should the need arise. He used his height to its utmost advantage, conjuring lances of diamond and slamming each down in a ring around the intruders.

The three men under Orestes’s orders let loose their power. Astix knew then, knew exactly what had happened. This was rogue magic, impacted by the thinning veil. Wild. Uncontrollable. Sparks flew and shredded curtains. Plaster cracked, falling to the floor and shattering. Astix heard screaming as she cowered near a table.

Thorvald laughed, the sound booming out and knocking several books and knickknacks from nearby shelves. After a brief hesitation, Astix turned to him, blinking rapidly to keep the dust from her eyes. “You need help, Daddy?”

“Back away, Mr. Cavaldi!” Three men countered the attack. The first stepped forward and when he spoke, his voice was amplified. “Our fight is not with you. Orestes will surely forgive this violent act if you turn your daughters over to him.”

Thorvald stood on the second-floor landing surveying the devastation before him. None of it mattered. The ornate decorations and carefully handcrafted treasures fell before him. When a splinter of wood from the banister snapped against his shin he showed no emotion.

“I do not bow to Orestes, and it is high time someone knocked him off his high horse!”

Lungs working like bellows and running out of patience, he fought the elemental witches before him without a care if he won or lost.

“Get out now!” he called to Astix. “I’ll hold them off.”

Astix ducked when gemstones exploded from the walls to imprison the three intruders within a crystalline jail cell and cutting off the flow of their power. “Let me help you!”

She added her own mettle to the fight and the floor buckled underfoot. Once, she’d drawn up the very magma from the earth’s core. She could do it again.

Thorvald drew himself up until he stood straight and tall, his vitality restored with the use of his gift. An almost joyful tint took over his face as he threw wave after wave at the strangers. “Get your sister out of here and find Aisanna. Fix this! You’re the only one who can. It’s always been you, Astix.”

Sparks and shots rang out throughout the corridors and Astix found herself yelling again. “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?”

A tornado-like gust of wind pelted Thorvald with the remnants of his own crystals. He fell back as they whipped at his exposed skin, scratching lines in his face.

“Go,” he demanded, blood dripping to the floor. “Now! I shouldn’t have to tell you again.”

Astix turned the stairs into a landslide of debris when one of the men ventured to climb. He dropped to the floor with a howl, his ankle fractured.

She couldn’t argue even if she wanted to. The weight of Thorvald’s order pushed her forward against her will. Physically moved her away from the scuffle.

One of the men reached out when she bolted past. He gripped a handful of the dark hair hanging to her shoulders and pulled her back with a yank. Astix screeched, landing on the floor between them and clawing at his hand to get free.

The man’s grip tightened while she beat at him, slapped in panic. Her scream petered out into a gurgle when his free hand circled her throat. Squeezed to silence her.

“You bitch,” he murmured amidst the free-for-all. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done. What you are. You’re a disgrace to our society.”

Astix fought to draw in air. She scrambled, the tips of her feet grazing the floor as the man proved stronger than she. Dimly she heard her father yelling and begging her to fight back.

She had to get free. To free herself and get the others out of the house.

A wave of marble and diamond assaulted the man and knocked him off balance. His grip loosened. With a sudden inhalation, she fell to the floor. Pain radiated out from every portion of her body.

The man slammed backward into a cabinet, and wood crunched and pristine white-pillared candles cracked under his weight.

“Astix, move your ass!” Thorvald commanded a final time.

While the powerhouses battled it out, and determined to ignore her own throbbing neck, Astix cocooned herself in a protective shell of energy and ran back to the den for the others. She ducked when part of the ceiling collapsed behind her, cutting the hallway off.

Drawing her body agilely forward, Astix maneuvered through the debris field and leaped up in time to avoid the gaping maw of the cracked floor, shards of material fissuring out like so many broken teeth. She burst through the door and shook plaster from her body.

“What happened to you?” Morgan was on his feet in an instant. “We heard noises but couldn’t get through the door. It wouldn’t budge.”

Another one of her father’s tricks, Astix thought to herself. “Out the back,” she told them. The sounds of a scuffle echoed behind her. In a distant part of her mind, she was dimly aware of the weeping, the choking sobs clawing their way from her bruised throat. “We have to leave.”

Morgan glanced at the door and hunched in on himself. The walls shook. “Shouldn’t we help?”

“It would only make him madder.” Astix considered her father’s wishes and girded herself against the protestations.

“Why would I run away from a fight?” Karsia asked with a laugh. “This is exactly what I wanted. They came to me!” She waved a hand and they heard a body slam against the wall, glass cracking. “You see? I can kill from wherever I am. I don’t even need to be in the same room.”

Astix and Morgan shared a look. “Out. Now.”

“You can’t stop me.”

“I don’t know how long I can knock her out this time,” Morgan admitted to Astix. He noted the marks on her skin, deep, blossoming out from the distinctive shape of fingers.

“Long enough to get her out of here?” Astix hiccupped and winced in pain.

“Maybe. Less if she fights me.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Karsia jumped to press herself against the farthest wall, staring at them both through impossibly wide eyes. “You’re not touching me.”

Morgan didn’t need to touch her. Not with his fingers. The shadow of wings stretched across the room and tapped the base of Karsia’s neck. She crumpled to the floor.

“Impressive skill. One day you’ll have to show me how to do that.” Astix spared a glance over her shoulder as the fight in the other room escalated.

“Are you all right?”

Using her sleeve, she smeared away the remnants of useless tears. “I’m fine. Let’s go. Now.”

Morgan gathered Karsia close for the second time that day and knew, when she woke up, there would be hell to pay. Literally.

He’d never seen the point of war. Men killing each other under the guise of religion, or for wealth, or land. People needed little excuse to hunt and slaughter their fellow man. He had brothers and cousins, aunts and uncles galore who relished the violence of the hunt. Who dove headfirst into battle and took a front row seat when the banners of war proudly flew.

Never had a taste for it himself.

The house threatened to collapse around them and Morgan drew his shoulders up and vowed to do whatever he could to help them out.

Astix used her power to safeguard them as they made their way out. Another loud shudder and the very foundation shook. They stumbled, nearly losing their balance, the integrity of the house compromised.

“Hold on to me.” Astix gestured toward her coat. “And don’t let go.”

In later retellings, Morgan would make sure everyone knew he’d led the way. The women were behind him and huddled close together for safety instead of the other way around. Now, he was too frightened to think straight and obediently grasped the back of her jacket. The small shred of material helped him balance his fear with survival instinct.

Astix pulled at the door and found it unyielding, the frame thrown out of alignment. “Come on, come on!” She pushed her shoulder into it, and when that failed, used her foot to kick it out with one smooth motion.

“Impressive. Do you have a plan yet?” Morgan asked, struggling to be overheard.

“I’m working on it!”

They forged a path through the snow toward the car, ducking against the howling wind. A fourth Claddium member rounded the corner, a woman this time. Startled to see them. She reached for her magic and widened her stance.

“Don’t move! You’re coming with me.” Posturing, she held her closed fists aloft and stared at the three of them.

Astix was prepared this time. “You people never learn.” She waved her hand and a rectangular piece of siding extracted itself from the wall and slammed into the woman.

She averted the blow with a casual sweep of her arm and the siding disintegrated.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” A single blast of magic poured out from the woman’s hand, solidified into a spear, burying itself in Morgan’s shoulder. He cried out.

The woman bolted toward Astix, who reacted instinctively with a second wave of magic. “Don’t you hurt him!”

Morgan hissed and tightened his hold on Karsia with his good arm, the pain like teeth gnawing into his flesh.

“Morgan?”

“I’m fine. Flesh wound.” He thought of what they had to do and pushed the pain aside. His body would heal the second he had time to draw on his power. The instant Astix took the woman down, they were flying around the corner of the house like animals pursued.

“I hope you have your keys on you. Because three of us are not fitting onto my bike.”

For a moment he panicked, before the reassuring heft of the key ring in his pocket registered. “Good to go.” He paused only to flick a glance at Astix.

They ran toward the front of the house while Morgan fished the keys out of his pants. He punched the key fob and had the doors clicking open for his arrival. They were like wild things, tearing around sleeping topiary, fighting to lose what hunted them.

He deposited Karsia less than gently in the backseat, then Morgan and Astix scrambled into the front. With the key firmly in hand, Morgan shoved it into the ignition with a single slide and twisted until the engine turned over reluctantly, working overtime in the cold.

“Is there any point in asking you to hurry it along, Professor?” Astix clicked her nails on the dashboard and stared at the house.

Color burst behind the windows as Thorvald and the Claddium members continued to flex their muscles. She knew he kept them contained and distracted until his girls were clear. It warmed her heart and she prayed her father had the mettle to pull through.

“You can’t rush a motor in this weather.” Morgan used the time to buckle himself in, careful to maneuver around his injured shoulder and keep it limp.

“I hate to ask this of you…but try.”

“All right, well, you’re paying for my oil change.”

With one arm looped over the seat, Morgan stared out the rearview mirror and backed out down the driveway with a screech of tires, turning the wheel rapidly to keep the vehicle straight without sliding into trees.

The foundation of the house rattled a second time and every window burst from within. She ducked even with the distance between them growing.

“I don’t want to leave them.” Astix stared back at her childhood home and tried not to clutch at the bar in response to Morgan’s driving. She memorized each line of the structure; every turret and gable and a proud widow’s walk the crown atop it all. Who knew the next time she would be able to come home?

If home still stood.

“What happens if he causes enough damage to collapse the second floor? Mom’s up there.”

“I’m sure he understands,” Morgan put in distractedly. “He seems like the type of guy who can handle things himself.”

“He’s alone. He’s alone and fighting for us.” Astix ducked her head until her hair hid the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Any father would do the same.” Morgan slammed the car into gear and took off down the street. He waved jovially at a neighbor strolling along the street, wide-eyed, before speeding away. “If you don’t mind me asking, where exactly are we going?”

“I’ll let you know. If you don’t mind me asking, how long is she going to be out?” Astix gestured toward the back. “I really don’t feel like being in another car accident, thank you very much. Once was enough for me.”

“If I have to send her to sleep repeatedly then I’ll do it. You concentrate on navigating.”

Astix stared at him. “I would feel a lot better if you let me drive.” She gestured toward his shoulder. “Your arm looks painful.”

Morgan jerked his head in response. “I’ll handle it. I’m immortal.”

Immortal or not, she knew the pain of a spell gone wrong. Was intimately aware of the intense flash and burn.

It took them longer than she wanted to get out of the city. After several blocks, Morgan pulled to the side of the road so Astix could take over, and Morgan slipped into the back next to Karsia. Astix put the pedal to the floor and took off, away from the immediate influence of the Claddium.

He didn’t mind, truly, giving up the control. Call it guilt for the marks at her throat, the total devastation of her home and family. He always had been a sucker for the less fortunate.

Once he felt sure of their distance from the chaos, Morgan let his magic flow and shifted his form. It was a simple thing, not a true healing in the traditional sense of the word but a metamorphosis. Skin and bone loosened and re-knit until the damage from the magical spear was repaired. At once he felt a swell of relief.

Astix drove until the sky darkened and the day came to an end. She clicked the wipers on, smearing dirt on the mud-and-snow-splattered windshield.

“Is it safe for me to ask where we are?”

“No. It’s better if you concentrate on keeping her knocked out.”

The road snaked along in a sinuous line and the dark macadam stretched out under faintly glowing clouds. Tree trunks burst through the snow like bones through skin. They drove in silence without the comforting presence of the radio for a distraction.

The sky continued to darken while the car kept a steady pace. Hours later, Astix swiveled away from the road to park between two trees. Nothing surrounded them for miles except dusky woods creaking with the weight of icy limbs.

“Okay, we’re here.”

Morgan cricked his neck, rubbing a hand over his face and hearing the scratch of stubble. “Please tell me this isn’t where you’re planning to hide. Because I didn’t bring my snow boots.”

“This isn’t it. But with the weather, I can’t trust the snow to hide our tracks. We need to ditch the car and go the rest of the way on foot.”

“And how do you know those people aren’t going to be able to find us here?”

“Because this is my house. And I’ve taken great lengths to hide it from them.” In the dim light, Astix gestured ahead. “Can you get her inside the wards? She’d mentioned something about not being able to come here after the accident.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Karsia blinked and gasped, rising out of unconsciousness with the force of a submarine breaking the surface. “Where are we? What did you two do?”

“And, she’s up.”

Astix pocketed the keys. “We got you out of there before you hurt anyone.” She slammed the door behind her and shivered, her breath a white cloud. “And it was a damn close call, too. I think the words you’re looking for are thank and you.”

Karsia punched herself in the chest right above her heart. “It’s my right to hurt them when they come into my house and try to attack us. How is it any of your business to get in my way?” She let out a powerful exhalation and glanced around. “Bringing me out into the middle of nowhere so you can do me in? If you think you’re going to stop me by taking me away from civilization you are wrong.”

“Let’s not think about this right now, okay?” Morgan told her, moving closer. “How about we focus on getting out of the cold so we can find this stone? I presume that’s our end goal here?”

“You presume correctly.”

“No,” Karsia interjected. “I don’t want to find it, not yet. We need these powers of mine to take down the Claddium.”

“Whoa, hold on! Who said anything about taking down the Claddium? Are you out of your mind?” Astix asked, color staining her cheeks.

“I’m finally thinking straight. For the first time in a long time. You would be amazed at the kind of magic I wield!” Caught up in her own bloated vanity, Karsia allowed Morgan to lead her along as they followed Astix away from the road and through the trees.

“I really don’t think I want to know. That dark power doesn’t belong to you.” Astix trembled but kept her voice strong. “Soon you’re going to give it back.”

“I’ll give it back after I’ve had my say,” Karsia insisted, still arguing.

“You scare me when you talk like that,” Astix admitted. “It makes me think you don’t want to get that evil out of you.”

Karsia kept silent.

“You do, don’t you?”

Her answer was long in coming. “Yes.”

“Good. Then follow me and try not to kill me while my back is turned, okay?” Astix cracked a branch out of her way, the sound amplified in the silent night.

“I’ll try.”

The weight of those words hung on Astix as they traversed the minefield of snow-covered shrubs and bushes and thick underbrush. Astix made her way unerringly through the maze, having done it a hundred times in the past.

One step in front of the other, she thought. A few more feet and she would be home, in the picturesque cabin she and Leo fought so hard to find and hide. Great stone monoliths she’d plucked from the depths of the earth rose high in a circle around the property. Imbued with every ounce of power they had both been able to conjure, the stones helped distort the energies around the house until it was virtually invisible.

Astix had to be careful every time she retired to the cabin. She doubled back on her trail, turned in semi-circles, and followed the stars in the sky until she caught the wisp of smoke in the air.

“We’re almost there,” she called to the others.

“Thank God. If it were any further I would—”

Morgan cut Karsia off. “Please don’t finish your sentence. I’m not sure I want to know.”

“Are you scared of me, Professor? Now that you know what I am and what I can do, are you ready to turn your back on me?” Karsia’s hand reached out to grip Morgan’s, and he felt the punch of energy she radiated. Great waves of heat and terror rolled through him with enough strength to cause internal bleeding if he were a normal human.

Keeping his voice calm, Morgan patted her hand and pushed the fear aside. “I think that’s a conversation for another day, my dear.”

The pristine snow-covered meadow glowed with a light to rival the shadowy moon. In the spring and summer, wildflowers would perfume the air and bring with them the sweet possibilities of the coming year. There were no neighbors for miles, fields turning into forest and blockading them from the rest of the world. A dirt road wound through the trees and led up toward the cabin.

Nature. Privacy. Freedom.

They stopped to survey the two-story cabin made of log and stone. It was small, windows glowing orange from the fire within and tendrils of smoke trailing from the chimney.

Karsia commented first, hands on her hips. “Did it look like a piece of shit the last time I was here?”

They made it to the front door and Astix knocked three times, stomping her feet to keep the blood flowing. It took seconds for Elon to answer.

Blue eyes peered at them through a widening yellow sliver. “We wondered when you were going to show up.” He ushered them inside. “I’ve got stew on the stove and the fire roaring. Aisanna has been in bed crying all day. I didn’t know what else to do with myself except cook and look after her. I’m not great in a crisis. I admit it.”

All three stopped on the large mat in front of the door and shook the snow from their clothes.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” Astix moved out of her coat and flung it on a nearby hook before removing her boots. “She needs to get her head on straight and keep looking through the spell book,” she commented. “We can’t let ourselves be distracted by our sadness.”

Or so she admonished herself. She wouldn’t tell Aisanna about the latest disaster and the potential destruction of the house. Not yet, anyway. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

“She’s been researching, too,” Elon commented, jumping to his girlfriend’s defense. “I wish there was some way I could help her. You know how she is. She barricaded herself in the bedroom and won’t let me inside.”

Morgan followed the girls’ lead and kicked off his shoes.

Tugging Karsia behind him, and infinitely surprised when she allowed him to keep hold of her hand, he walked out of the small foyer and into the living room. Two leather couches flanked a fireplace large enough to fit a moose inside. Shadows from the flames flickered against the walls.

He noted the muted hush immediately. This place was heavily warded. He took a moment to adjust the pressure inside his ears.

Elon followed them, flashing a brief smile. “I made up the spare bedroom for you,” he said to Morgan. “I had a feeling you’d be joining us before long. I think you’ll find the place more comfortable than you think.”

“I can see.” Morgan dropped to the couch and let himself stoop forward, elbows on knees, feeling the weight of everything that had happened. His bottom ached from the long drive and a phantom ache resounded from his shoulder. “How do you get used to the weight in the air?”

Elon shrugged. “You stop noticing after a while.”

Morgan glanced over at Karsia, noting the way her fingers trembled, knees bouncing up and down. Energy constantly in motion. Lifting a hand lightly, he slid it over hers and stilled the motion.

She leaned in close, her breath whispering in his ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for what you’ve done.”

“I expected nothing less.”

“Let me get you some stew,” Elon offered. “A family specialty, and about the only thing I can cook without a recipe. I’m good with soup.”

“I’m terrible at cooking. I’m grateful for anything at this point.” Morgan sent an exhausted smile toward his newest guy pal—his only guy pal, actually—before tuning in to the ominous rumble in his stomach. “Thanks.”

“It’s the least I could do. Stew for everyone. It makes me feel useful.”

“You’re human,” Morgan commented. “It doesn’t worry you? What’s happening?”

Elon grinned. “I love Aisanna. She tolerates me. I figure she keeps me around to cook while she’s off saving the world.”

“It takes a strong man to love a witchy woman.” Morgan made the comment offhand.

“It takes a strong man to love any woman, is what I think you mean. I’m no different from anyone else.” Elon tipped his head before retreating to the tiny kitchen.

Karsia pointed over her shoulder. “We’re planning a war while Martha Stewart over there is busy playing host. All he’s missing is the apron.”

“Leave him alone. He’s a good man and the only one of us capable of thinking about necessities right now. I’ve gotten to like him quite a lot.” Astix curled up next to the fire and warmed her hands, light glinting off the numerous golden rings in her nostrils. “I know I would feel a little better with something in my belly.”

“Fine, fine.” Karsia held up her hands. “I’m just saying what’s on everyone’s mind.”

“What’s on everyone’s mind?” Aisanna moved down the stairs, taking each step carefully, the skin beneath her eyes swollen and red. Her hands gripped the rail tightly.

“Never mind. Sit and try to relax.” Astix did not look up from the fire. “There’s not much time left. Please say you’ve done your homework and have something useful?”

“I’m sorry to tell you, I haven’t made much headway.” Aisanna sighed and sat next to Morgan. “Good to see you’re still here.” She awkwardly patted his knee.

“I can’t think of anywhere else I would rather be.”

The oddness of it was, every word he spoke was true. Being with them, being together, brought him a level of calm he had not experienced in a long time. They gathered around the room with a natural camaraderie born of people thrust together in unusual circumstances. Morgan appreciated each one for the energy they brought to the table. He slid into his role as voice-of-reason and casual-protector effortlessly, and with the danger ahead and the terror sitting next to him on the couch, he knew he was right where he needed to be.

Aisanna pointed a warning finger at him. “Don’t lie. Believe me, I am very good at ferreting out the truth. Everyone lies. It’s about where you are on the scale.”

“I’m not in the business of lying, generally.”

Morgan looked up when Elon made his way back into the room holding a tray laden with hand-thrown pottery bowls. Steam rose from each, tantalizing and homey, filling the air with the scents of roasted vegetables and savory beef. Accepting the stew, Morgan drew the smells into his nostrils, his mouth watering. Oh yes, this was exactly what he needed.

“Thank you, man.”

Elon smiled and continued to dole out dinner. “My pleasure. Aisanna can tell you, I’m a whiz when it comes to a crock pot.”

“He’s also a snazzy dresser and a PR maven,” Aisanna continued tiredly.

“I don’t know how you can sit around with your thumbs twiddling a tune up your asses, waiting for a bowl of fucking stew, while there are things to be done. We need to formulate a plan to attack the Claddium,” Karsia stated.

“Whoa, the Claddium? Aren’t those the people we’re trying to avoid?”

She scowled when Elon moved nearer, refusing his offer before smacking the bowl out of his hand and watching it skid across the floor, smeared stew in its wake.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Karsia. We’re not planning a full-scale war against the Great Lakes office. They’re our governing body. Making an enemy of them when we’re already fighting against an enormously powerful elemental is insanity. It’s not an option. Orestes and his pals, yes. I will stand with you. The Claddium? Absolutely not.” Astix spooned soup into her mouth and moaned in pleasure.

Karsia surged to her feet. “Why are you holding back?” she asked, exasperated. “You know who’s responsible. Orestes was the one who orchestrated separating you from the rest of us upon your Awakening.”

“Trust me, I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then why are we here like rats in a hole? He has our brother. He attacked our mother. It’s time for us to stop hiding and for everyone to fall in line! This is ridiculous. And get that soup out of my face, Elon, before I shove it somewhere the sun doesn’t shine,” Karsia demanded. Her eyes glinted with demented fervor.

She stalked the length between two windows, her enhanced gaze falling on night creatures as they rose from their dens.

“Can you do the thing, Morgan? You know.” Astix gestured with her fingers. “I seem to like her a lot better when she’s knocked out cold.”

“Do not touch me again.”

“Trust me, I saw what happened the last few times you got mad,” Morgan told her. He ran his tongue along the rim of his bowl, licking away every delicious drop, uncaring how the others judged him. Steam clouded his glasses and he waited until his vision cleared. “One of which included exploding an entire herd of cattle from the inside out.”

“Karsia! Cows? Are you serious?” Aisanna then fell silent, waiting to see if her sister would say anything.

Karsia chuckled. Leaving no doubt that, although ordinary emotions dictated she feel remorse, there was none. “I don’t remember anything about it, so it doesn’t count.”

“Here, it seems like a good time to break this out.” Elon reached behind him and removed a small bottle of whiskey from the waistband of his pants. “Nothing like booze to smooth an awkward situation.” He passed the bottle first to Aisanna, who removed the cap and swigged a hearty chug without blinking.

“Martha Stewart is an alcoholic.”

They wisely kept the bottle out of Karsia’s reach so she couldn’t slap it to the floor.

Morgan went next, wiping the rim with his sleeve and taking a sip. The first shot went down with the ease of hot liquid silk. If the soup helped untie the knots in his stomach, the whiskey relaxed the ropes and put him over the edge, easing his fatigue while the food assuaged his hunger.

“I’m gonna go upstairs and get the book.” Aisanna rose, her eyes locked on her youngest sister. “Maybe we can take a peek and find something new. Something I overlooked.”

Karsia flung herself over the arm of the couch and kicked at a lamp, watching the base teeter back and forth. “Don’t bother. You won’t find anything.”

“To be fair, you interrupted our night before I had a chance to peruse my resources.” Morgan thought of his notes waiting at home and decided he would have to start immediately to catch up on everything that had happened. “I have a fair amount of research to do.”

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, we need to use these powers to fight back against the Claddium. For our family! We can’t walk away now when we’re confronted. We need to stop it.” Karsia looked around the room, lifting an eyebrow. “We need to stop it.”

“You’ll pardon me if I want to speak to Leo first.”

“The traitor’s spawn?” Karsia barked out.

Astix leaned forward and slowly got to her feet, maintaining eye contact. “You watch your mouth. He saved your life.”

“I’ll say whatever I please.”

“Not when it comes to Leo. Not today.”

“Let’s stop and take a deep breath.” Morgan grabbed Karsia’s hands and soothed his thumbs along the plane of her knuckles. “I say we go upstairs, get some sleep, and sort the rest out in the morning. It’s been a very long, very trying day.”

“What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you?” Karsia asked.

“Are you going to be safe?” Astix wanted to know.

Morgan stared at Karsia. “I believe I will.” He helped her rise from the couch and ushered her back toward the staircase. “Good night, everyone. Have pleasant dreams.” He would make damn sure everyone in the house did.

The others said their respective good nights and watched the two leave.

“Why do I have a feeling our days are numbered?” Elon supplied in the silence left behind.

Astix sighed. “Because they are.”

 

**

 

Karsia reluctantly followed Morgan out of the living room, passing Aisanna when she came back down the stairs. The older girl gave them a passing nod.

“You could have let me handle it,” Karsia told Morgan, moving slowly down the hall.

“I know. But we’ve had enough for tonight.”

Although he knew what she wanted, he understood why it was not a good idea to let her engage. She needed time away from reality, and Morgan was afraid, deeply afraid, that soon he would have no power to help her.

Karsia felt the tempest coming. Not a literal one, but something big, looming on the horizon and gaining speed. Momentum. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the seed of darkness inside of her rejoiced.

Once, she would not have been afraid, cowering before destiny. She’d wanted a big life. She’d wanted to live large. But this? This was too big for her. So much easier to bury her head in the sand and pretend it wasn’t her problem. With her meager earth magic trickling through her veins, she could only pretend she was formidable instead of actually being formidable.

She pursed her lips. “Remember who it is you’re coddling. I’m not a child who needs someone to hold my hand.”

“Right, of course. I apologize.” He pushed open the door to the guest room and let her enter first, watched her sniff the air as though by simple scent she could guess at traps. “Is this to your liking?”

“It will do.”

The guestroom was tidy, with a sturdy four-poster bed taking up the majority of the space. Morgan walked around it, touching the wood, bending closer to examine the craftsmanship of each post. The history drew him; the time someone had taken to individually carve out each swoop and swirl.

If Elon had taken the initiative to prepare the bed, Aisanna had added her own personal touch to the room. Roses and begonias speared from tall crystal and porcelain vases. They scattered across the room with a sweet scent designed to put them at ease. A carved chifforobe and chest of drawers completed the room, each chosen for their uniqueness. The floor—original loblolly pine—was left bare.

Morgan shucked his sweater and stripped down to his undershirt. Karsia watched each movement with the precision of a hawk. He expected comments, lewd or otherwise, and was a little unnerved when she remained silent.

Grime and dirt clung to the fabric, once-white sleeves dotted with yellow sweat stains. He stared down at the shirt. Didn’t want to think about how he smelled.

Approaching her on the pads of his feet, Morgan ushered Karsia to the mattress and tucked her into bed like a baby. Giving in to her more tender impulses, she let him. Gentle fingers stroked down the length of her hair until her movement stilled and breathing became normal.

Once upon a time, when she was a commonplace witch, cuddling with a man was natural and enjoyable. Karsia fought against a wave of bitterness. Back then she would have rejoiced in being held, rejoiced at those strong arms gathering her close and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against her back.

She wished she had met Morgan sooner. Last year, or sometime in the early part of the current one. They could have had a typical romance, with flowers, candies, candlelit dinners, and walks near the lake. He would be good at those things, she thought, those little things to let a woman know how he felt.

Unfortunately, there was nothing they could do now. She was sinful and he was hopeless. That was all they could ever be.

If she’d never met Morgan, Karsia would have been content to carry on with her plan. She would have destroyed the Claddium building from the ground up and raised her face to the sky while the debris fell around her. Would have accepted her lot in life and took the city down with her.

With one last sigh, Karsia closed her eyes and gave herself over to whatever lay in wait in sleep.