“Hi. I’d like to take you up on your invitation.”
“I’ve been expecting you and your companions,” a cheerful voice came back. “Who’s with you?”
“Ryan. My cop partner. And my cat.”
“Well, bring them along. You know where I live.” Moriana hung up, and Ari grinned at the characteristic behavior. Her witch-mentor had never been accused of wasting words.
Moriana’s suburban home was typical for the upscale neighborhood…at least that’s how it appeared. The flower and shrub gardens surrounding it were dense and rich, concealing the backyard from view. An inspection of the house by a critical eye might discover the images reflected in the windows never changed. They were, in fact, enchanted to allow only one-way viewing, hiding the indoor activities. The home presented a pleasant, ordinary facade.
Ari rang the bell, and the door opened without visible means. Ryan’s eyes widened; Ari nodded reassuringly before they stepped into the foyer. It matched the exterior impression, but as soon as they left the entry, the decor was distinctively Moriana. Ivory walls were densely hung with colorful abstract paintings, crystals and beads glittered in every window. The aroma of sage and vanilla drifted from hundreds of candles and baskets of herbs.
Moriana, wearing a loose linen tunic and jeans, sat cross-legged on the floor, her head tilted forward; black hair cascaded around her face and concealed her features. Ari paused in the doorway, gestured to Ryan with a finger across her lips, and waited for the other witch to complete her meditation.
Several seconds passed, then Moriana suddenly animated and bounded to her feet. “I feel much better now. Welcome, witchling.” She turned devastating green eyes on Ryan. “You are also welcome. Come. I have an herbal tea waiting that I think you’ll like.” With an imperious twitch of her wrist, she marched toward the kitchen. “We must talk.”
Ought-oh. Now what?
When they were settled over their tea, Moriana turned a sharp eye on her former apprentice. “You have certainly stirred the pot, Arianna. What have you done to enrage the elders?”
Ari shrugged. “I’m not sure. Andreas thinks it could be the baby.”
Moriana arched a narrow brow. “Extraordinary. Why?”
“They believe it’s a living vampire.”
“Poppycock! Even magic cannot overcome Mother Nature. Your vampire mate is sterile.”
Ari winced. Stated so baldly, it made vampires sound…lacking. “Well, yes, but he was human in 1813. You realize he’s the biological father, don’t you?”
“Of course, my dear. There is no question of parentage.” Moriana looked surprised Ari had asked. “I am merely astonished anyone could ignore the facts.”
“We don’t know if the O-Seven believes it or not,” Ari said.
Ryan frowned at her. “But…”
“It could be just their excuse. I’ve had a lot of time to think the last couple of days, and I think it’s possible Porbius has regained some of his memory. If he suspects he was tricked—or that we killed his First Daughter—he’d be really pissed.”
Moriana hesitated. “That would make sense if Porbius was behind this, but he doesn’t have the natural ability to call the crows.”
“Are you sure?” Ari stared at her. “If it’s not Porbius, then who? And why?”
“I didn’t say Porbius wasn’t involved, but he’d have to borrow power.”
“From someone else? Do you know who?” Ari scooted forward on her chair.
Moriana looked at her with mild reproof. “Patience, witchling. You still have all that nervous energy about you. It can’t be good for the child.”
Ryan ducked his head in a vain attempt to hide a grin.
Ari shot him a sharp look, Moriana’s reproof had briefly reduced her to a sixteen-year-old apprentice again. Her mentor had always counseled patience. It wasn’t a skill Ari had perfected.
Moriana stood, took a plate from a kitchen cabinet, and passed her hand over the surface twice. Chocolate chip cookies appeared on the plate. She set it on the table, refilled their teacups, and took her seat. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if you’d prefer milk.”
“No, this is great. It tastes just like coffee.”
Moriana smiled. “I thought you’d approve. And I believe the cookies are your favorite.”
“They’re delicious. Thanks. This kid is always hungry.”
Ryan looked at the plate, then at Ari. She pushed it toward him and nodded, answering his unspoken question that magical cookies were safe for him to eat. He gave her a sheepish grin and took two.
“Now, where was I?” Moriana winked at Ari. “Ah, yes, the elders. I have an idea who you might be dealing with. I remembered something I heard long ago. Are you familiar with the names of all the elders?”
“I think so. I found them in my Book of Shadows.”
“Then you know one of them is called Luc. I’d been told that wasn’t his original name, so I went digging in ancient family tomes. What I found was interesting. The name Luc both is and isn’t correct.”
Ari blinked. Moriana loved her riddles…and her history lessons. Ari swallowed her budding frustration. It would only result in another lecture and further delay. She locked her fingers in her lap and waited.
Moriana took them through a number of historical references and finally got to the point. “Luc was shortened from Lucris, but even that isn’t his full name. Originally it was Volucris. Do you know what that means in Latin?”
Ari shook her head.
“Winged creature.”
Ari stared at her. Volucris was the crow, a shapeshifter?
“Not dispositive, of course,” Moriana continued, “because there are many winged creatures. But it piqued my interest. So I researched his personal history and came upon several instances of crows appearing when he was present or in the area. I suspect Volucris can manifest as a crow and call others to his bidding.” She cocked her head at Ari. “It’s not the kind of proof required in your criminal courts, but it makes you wonder, doesn’t it?”
“Proof enough for me. But what could Andreas or I have done to make him pursue us like this?”
Moriana spread her hands. “Perhaps he is friends with Porbius? Your vampires might be able to tell you more now that you have a name to give them.”
“How does this tie in with our murder victim?” Ryan frowned, emptied his cup, and set it down. “The elders live in Europe. How would Volucris even know a simple wood nymph?”
Ari shook her head. No one had an answer.
Moriana offered Ryan a place to sleep for the night, but he declined. “I need to get back to work. I told them there was a family emergency when I took off, but if I’m not on the job tomorrow, they’ll ask more questions.”
Ari walked him to his car. “Will you explain all this to Claris?”
“Sure. She’s doing fine with my mom and sister-in-law, but if things stay quiet, I know she’ll want to return home soon.”
“Not yet. I depend on you to keep her safe.”
“No problem. Happy to do it.”
She slanted her eyes at him. “Just how happy?”
He paused with his hand on the car door. “What do you mean?” He acted genuinely puzzled.
“Nothing. Just take care of everybody.”
She watched until the cruiser turned the corner before going back inside. A twinge of sadness, even apprehension, washed over her at the physical distance that separated her from Riverdale. Whatever happened there was beyond her ability to intervene. Maybe the O-Seven would back off now she was gone, but it wasn’t likely. Andreas was there…her friends were there. And the elders knew exactly how to hurt her the most.
Moriana looked up as she entered the kitchen. “Is he safely on his way home?”
“Safely?” Ari grimaced. “Good question. I hope so.”
* * *
As soon as the sun came up the next morning, Ari raced to the window. Moriana’s colorful garden fluttered gently with the activity of butterfl
ies and hummingbirds. No nasty black birds. Ari smiled, went in search of her hostess, and found her in the kitchen singing softly over a cauldron of pale blue liquid that smelled vaguely like vanilla and apples.
When Moriana spotted her, she poured a ladleful of the concoction into a mug and handed it to Ari. “Drink up. It’s good for you.”
Ari took a sniff. “Chamomile?”
“Among other things, including a pinch of passion flower. It’ll help take that stress off your face.”
“I didn’t know it was so obvious.”
“If I can see it, your infant can feel it. We really must get your thoughts in a more pleasant place.”
“Not easy to do with the O-Seven determined to kill me,” Ari said acerbically.
Moriana smiled. “Work on it. Now, let’s eat.” She gestured toward the table.
In addition to the large bowl of cut fruit in the center, the table held two containers of nuts, a platter of goat cheese, and a bowl of deviled eggs. Ari grabbed a plate of wafer-like biscuits from the counter and added it to the table. Moriana packed these delicious breakfast bars with vitamins and minerals, making them a guilt-free treat.
“I have to find a safe way to communicate with Riverdale or I’ll go nuts.” Ari leaned back after finishing a cup of tea, two wafers, and a generous sampling of the containers. “I had to ditch my phone, and I’m even afraid to use the link with Andreas. He’s worried the O-Seven can follow the magical trace back to me.”
Moriana nodded. “He’s quite right to be concerned. Perhaps you should write a letter.”
Ari suppressed a smile. Moriana paid very little attention to the outside world unless it directly affected her. No doubt she still considered mobile phones a fad. “I need something more immediate than that. I’ll buy a burner phone.”
Moriana frowned. “What’s that?”
“A throwaway. A disposable cell phone that isn’t registered in my name.”
Moriana had already lost interest. She glanced at the clock on the wall, stood, and beamed at Ari. “Do whatever you think best, witchling, but try to think positive thoughts. I have a little consultation this morning that will take me away for a couple of hours. A small matter of a dispute among two young wizards and a terribly annoying curse. Tsk. Tsk. Children can be so…well, childish.” She turned a penetrating eye on Ari. “You’re safe in St. Louis for the moment. Make the most of this reprieve.” She opened a drawer and set a stack of twenty and fifty dollar bills on the table. “This will keep you anonymous, and there’s more if you need it. I know you and Andreas are good for it.” Moriana’s lips lifted in a smile, and she disappeared out the back door.
Ari gazed after her. She’d almost forgotten how Moriana could slip from ditzy auntie to sharp, perceptive witch in two seconds.
She called a cab to take her to a car rental. Once she had her own transportation, she crossed the river into Illinois, bought a couple of phones at a convenience store, and called Ryan.
“Uneventful trip,” he reported. “Everything seems calm this morning. No birds, no hounds. I talked with Andreas after I got back, so he knows you’re OK.”
“So it’s all back to normal?”
“I wouldn’t say that. Andreas was uneasy, and the Magic Council has advised against lifting the curfew. Maybe they can sense something I can’t.” She heard the squeak of his office chair as he shifted uncomfortably. “City maintenance is cleaning up mounds of really smelly bird droppings, but it’ll be quite a job.”
“Oh, yuk.”
“At least that’s one thing they didn’t expect our officers to do. The council president is looking into doing it magically, maybe vaporizing the stuff. But other than that, the town is settling down. Claris agreed to stay with Mom until the curfew is lifted, but I don’t know if I can keep her there after that.”
“Pressure her if necessary. Moriana’s given me a idea who the elder might be, and I’m checking into it, but this threat isn’t likely to just go away.”
“Why do you think Claris is with my family? I get it,” Ryan said impatiently. “Sorry, but I’m worried too. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve gone after your friends.”
Guilt washed over her, and Ari swallowed hard. “Yeah, I hate that,” she said in a small voice.
“Dammit, Ari. I wasn’t implying it was your fault. No one’s to blame except the O-Seven.”
“I’m not so sure.”
“Well, I am. They started with Prince Daron, then Andreas. You didn’t bring them here.”
No, but the elders might have lost interest if she hadn’t helped Andreas kill Sebastian, the O-Seven’s former ally in Toronto, and taken over his court…or if she hadn’t killed Ursula, Porbius’s First Daughter. But Ryan was trying to be supportive, so instead of arguing, she switched topics to ask what the public had been told.
“DNR labeled it unusual migratory patterns due to global warming.”
She gave a half laugh. “Just as we predicted. And the hellhound fight?”
“It’s been downplayed as an Otherworld thing that spilled over into the suburbs, like a gang turf war.”
Ari made a rude click of her teeth. “Whatever keeps them happy, but it certainly doesn’t improve our public image.”
“I don’t think there’s a nice way to explain hellhounds.”
“I suppose not. I better go, but pass this number to Claris. And of course Andreas, if you talk with him before I do. He can give it to Lilith and Gabriel, but I’m trying to limit how many have it. I’m being more cautious this time.”
“Can do.”
After disconnecting, Ari returned to Moriana’s. Her mentor was back from her appointment, and they spent the rest of the day poring over books, researching spells, looking for information and vulnerabilities related to Volucris, possessed crows, hellhounds, and the O-Seven in general. Rightly so, Moriana suggested that Ari spend her time in St. Louis improving her witchcraft, preparing for a confrontation with one or more of the vampire elders.
“A showdown is inevitable, witchling.” Moriana tapped her chin and regarded Ari with a speculative eye. “Perhaps sooner and bigger than any of us realize.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Andreas stood in the hallway of his supper club and kept a watchful eye on the guests in the crowded dining room. Two quiet nights had passed since the hellhound attack, and due to the Magic Council’s vaporizing spell, the city had been cleaned late this afternoon. He’d opened the club on a night-by-night basis, but business was good again. Citizens had resumed their everyday lives, oblivious to the underlying sense of menace.
The driveway entrance opened, and he turned to see Gabriel striding toward him, waving a white piece of paper.
“This was pinned to the door of the compound sometime today. It’s addressed to you.”
“What is it?”
“Appears to be an invitation…” Gabriel handed it to him. “To an ambush, I’d say.”
Andreas frowned and unfolded the paper. The message was printed in all caps, drawn in dark, heavy strokes.
WANT TO SETTLE THIS? MEET ME TONIGHT AT THE OLDE TOWN CEMETERY. MIDNIGHT. ALONE.
It was unsigned.
Andreas was tempted to laugh. Not very original. What kind of coward didn’t identify himself? Volucris—as Moriana suspected? Andreas’s scowl deepened, and he snapped the paper with one finger. This didn’t fit the elder’s image. Stern, angular features; long, straight black hair; piercing eyes dark as the voids of space. Luc preferred the shadows at any gathering, but his sinister presence never went unnoticed. He wouldn’t hide behind an anonymous note.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to meet whoever wrote this.”
“Yeah, I assumed that. But not alone.” Gabriel drew himself up as if prepared for an argument. “I’m going with you.”
Andreas’s smile was grim. “You and a few others…and some serious firepower. I’m not walking into a trap without backup. Select a dozen of our most experience
d fighters.”
Gabriel relaxed, and his face lit with a grin. “Now you’re talking. Maybe a few wolves for backup?”
“I’ll call Steffan myself and give him an invite. They have the finest weapons other than SWAT, and I would rather not bring in Lt. Foster and the human officers until I know who or what we’re facing. It might be a good idea to assign extra guards to the club and house. I don’t know what this note is all about, but let’s not get caught unprepared.”
* * *
At 11:57 Andreas strode toward the cemetery gate. The waning moon cast eerie shadows from the gravestones and large monuments. He gave no outward sign of unease, but his warlock and vampire senses spread out, seeking some hint of his enemy. He saw nothing unusual, heard nothing, but his magic touched a powerful shield somewhere ahead.
The back of his neck tingled, a reminder of the watching eyes behind him. Steffan’s wolves had slipped into the surrounding woods almost two hours ago, but a dozen vampires and half as many weretigers had arrived openly with him. They waited in the street half a block away, clearly visible to any observer.
Andreas reached to open the wrought-iron gate and paused when he felt a sudden shift of power. When nothing else happened, he checked his link with Arianna to ensure it was securely closed and pushed the gate open.
He stepped inside and searched the shadows. For a moment, nothing moved.
The scent of brimstone and sulphur reached him just before two dozen hellhounds sailed over the back fence. He crouched into a defensive stance and stilled. The beasts slunk toward him, spreading into a semicircle. He kept his back toward the gate. His friends had that direction covered.
Andreas saw a flicker in the shadow of a large crypt.
“Show yourself,” he demanded, straightening to his full height. “Surely you do not intend to hide in the shadows. After all, you called this meeting.”
“You were told to come alone.”