Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3) (17 page)

BOOK: Boundary Born (Boundary Magic Book 3)
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C
hapter 31

I stormed into the house to find the Pellars. They were both in the living room. “I can’t
believe
you broke into John’s house!” I yelled.

“She’s back!” Lily said gaily. She was sitting in the easy chair in John’s living room, playing a game on her phone.

“The guy puts his spare key on top of the door frame!” Simon countered. “He deserves to get burgled, and look, we’re just picking up a little.”

That brought me up short. It was true—Simon was on his hands and knees on the floor, stacking toys into a pile. “What are you doing?”

“Just ignore him,” Lily said, dismissive. “He gets a little OCD when he’s stressed.”

“Or he’s stepped on five different Duplos and he’s sick of it,” Simon muttered.

“But he’s gonna figure out that you were here!”

“No, he’s gonna figure out
you
were here,” Quinn said mildly, coming up behind me. “And because you love him and Charlie so much and feel bad about your fight, you cleaned the house up a little.” I wheeled around to glare at him, but he just shrugged. “You have to admit, it’s kind of brilliant. John’s not Old World, and Charlie’s just a baby. There’s no reason for anyone to look for Maven here. And besides, your family’s safe in Florida.”

I wanted to argue that we were still putting them in danger, but I bit back my protest. We could move Maven right away, tonight—as soon as we figured out where to put her. But in the meantime I had more pressing concerns.

I checked my watch. It was a little after eight. I looked at Quinn. “Did they explain what’s been happening?”

He nodded. “Crystals, telephone to the dead, scary blue guy. I’m caught up.”

“I looked up the meaning of
milites mortis,
” Simon broke in. “The rough translation is ‘soldiers of death.’ Or possibly ‘knights of death.’”

“Fantastic,” I said.

“Yeah, but what does that mean?” Lily asked.

Simon looked at me. “You said this group kidnapped boundary witches, right?”

I nodded. “But Nellie wasn’t sure they were actually hurting them. There were rumors that you could make a lot of money if you joined them. Like it was a business.”

“This is a leap,” he said slowly, “but what if it was the business of making more boundary witches?”

We all stared at him. Simon held his hands up defensively. “I know, I’m just taking a shot in the dark. But if you were a boundary witch, and you were worried that there weren’t enough boundary witches in the world, what would be the best way to make more?”

“Kidnap the witches and force them to . . . breed?” Lily said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. It was the same unsettling word Emil had used to grouse about boundary witches not having relationships with other witches.

Everyone fell silent, and I could feel all of them deliberately not looking at me. If Simon’s theory was correct, there were people out there who wanted to force me to carry a baby.

“Even if you’re right,” I said, the rasp suddenly sharp in my voice, “what does the jolly blue giant have to do with this? Is he working for them?”

Quinn took a step forward, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re not letting them take Lex. We’re going to find Emil and Mr. Freeze, and we’re going to shut this down. Tonight.”

Everyone nodded. I didn’t feel nearly as confident, but if it was an act, I hoped he’d keep it up for a while. “First thing, we have to go back to my place,” I said, half-expecting them to protest. “I have to make sure the herd is all right.”

“They’re fine,” Simon told me. “Between Lily’s crazy story and you being so out of it, I drove back over there. There’s a big-ass hole in your garage door, but nobody else was there.” He paused to push his glasses up on his nose. “Anyway, I went into the house through the garage door to see if he’d gotten inside. Nothing was disturbed, as far as I could tell, but I didn’t see the cats and dogs. I found them in the bedroom.” He grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry about just going into your bedroom like that.”

I waved it off like I was blocking a punch. “Were they okay? Were they alive?”

“They’re alive,” he reported. “They were under your bed.”

I stared. “What,
all
of them?”

Simon nodded. “I counted. They were terrified, but I didn’t see any injuries. I thought it best to leave them where they were.”

I let out a deep breath of relief. “We should still get them out of the house. That thing knows they’re important to me.”

Quinn, who had been leaning against a sideboard, straightened up. “So we’ll go get them right now,” he said reasonably.

I bit my lip. “You really think we can take the time?”

He shrugged. “Sure. It’s a good idea to keep moving anyway, if Blue Man Group is looking for you.” I tried really hard not to smile at that one, but I kind of failed. “And we all know you’re not going to be able to think straight until you know they’re safe,” he added.

I was touched that Quinn wanted to help, but we both knew he was the wrong person to deal with the animals—they had an instinctive fear and hatred of vampires, and although a couple of them had eventually learned to tolerate Quinn, it wasn’t the right time to push that, not when they were already scared.

Ordinarily I would have called Jake, made up a story, and asked him to take the animals to his vet clinic, where there was room for all of them for a couple of nights. But I couldn’t risk that the thing—I really needed a better name for him, because “my father” made me nauseous—wouldn’t come back while Jake was still there.

So after some discussion, we decided that Lily and I would go get the animals and drop them off with Jake, while Simon did some online research and Quinn went “to get something to eat.”

 

As Lily and I walked into the cabin a little later, I was awed by the silence that had fallen over the house. It was
never
this still and quiet. Even when all the dogs were outside at the same time, there were always cats sneaking and skittering around, starting little squabbles with each other. The blue man may not have come inside, but it still felt like someone had broken my home.

I made straight for my bedroom, flipped the light switch, and crouched down to look under my bed. I very nearly burst into tears when I saw all four dogs huddled under there, staring at me with wide, anxious eyes. Chip and Cody came wiggling out right away, climbing over and over me, tongues lapping frantically until I had to laugh. “I’m sorry, guys,” I murmured, petting them.

None of the others wanted to come out from hiding. I tried cajoling, treats, and a stern tone, but they were too panicked. I hated to force them when they were like this, but they were at risk if they stayed where Emil might come looking. So in the end Lily and I had to simply pull the bed away from the wall and scoop them up.

Quinn had lent me the Jeep, which had more room in the back than Simon’s car or my busted Subaru, but it still took a while to get them all secured. It didn’t help that I only had two carrying cases for all those cats. The cranky iguana was the only one seemingly unaffected by my father’s appearance, which made me wonder if whatever the animals sensed about him had to do with proximity. Mushu lived in the back bedroom, far away from the front door where the blue man had been prowling.

When we finally closed the Jeep’s back doors, everyone was very unhappy, and Lily and I both had scratches up and down our arms. She waited outside the passenger door—“so your dogs don’t climb all over me, no offense”—while I went back into the house to pack up a few essentials. I wouldn’t be able to come back here until this was over, one way or another.

I threw some clothes into a duffel bag, barely paying attention to what I grabbed, and then went into the now-empty back bedroom where I kept my weapons safe. I stood there for a few minutes examining my options. I had no idea what would hurt the giant blue guy, so I put a little of everything into the duffel: a couple of shredders (in addition to the new one strapped to my arm), my Ithaca shotgun in a soft case, extra ammunition, and a Gerber LHR combat knife in a sheath. After a few minutes of consideration, I also dug out an old Patagonia fanny pack—they weren’t called that anymore, but that’s what it was—and tucked in my Smith & Wesson revolver, which had the best stopping power of any of the sidearms I owned. I wouldn’t be able to draw it from the fanny pack as quickly as I’d like, but none of the concealed carry holsters that fit me could hold a large sidearm. Much better to be a little slow on the draw than to be in a situation where I needed to leave my weapon in the car so no one would see the holster. Just to be on the safe side, I tossed my favorite quick-draw holster, a gift from Quinn, into the duffel. I also threw in the longest jacket I owned, a lightweight, knee-length number that was a little baggy on me and flared out at the waist, which made it the best thing I had for disguising weapons.

I went back out to the driveway, but before I could reach for the driver’s door I heard a woman’s voice from behind the Jeep.

“Allison Luther?”

Lily and I both jumped, and my hand went to the weapon in my unzipped hip pack. But the speaker was a small, unassuming woman standing at the end of my driveway. She was probably in her midthirties, with a white-blonde braid circling the top of her porcelain face, and she was dressed simply in loose black pants, a white tee, and a denim jacket. Even in the dim illumination from the house lights, I could see that the T-shirt was swelled out. I was just guessing, based on Sam’s pregnancy, but I figured she was seven, maybe eight months along.

She stood there with her hands in her jacket pockets, radiating calm and something else. I couldn’t put my finger on it until Lily stepped in front of me.

Her fingers were thrust out to her sides, and I could swear I saw actual light sparking off them. My jaw dropped. Obviously I wasn’t the only one Lily was training with. She—and no doubt Simon—had been practicing apex magic. “Who the hell are you?” Lily demanded.

“Lily!” I hissed. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe pregnant women were harmless, but this one looked like she was there to sell some kind of raffle tickets, or maybe see if I was registered to vote.

“She’s a witch, Lex,” Lily said over her shoulder. “With some
serious
juice.”

The woman’s smile was calm and unperturbed. “No need to worry, little witch. My name is Kirsten, and I’m here to help.”

C
hapter 32

“Help how?” I asked, at the same time as Lily said, “Kirsten who?”

The woman turned to Lily first. “Harms is the name you’d know. And I am here voluntarily, as a favor to Jesse Cruz.”

Now it was Lily’s turn to look shocked. I, on the other hand, felt like an idiot. I’d been so distracted by the meeting with the blue man, I’d completely forgotten about my call with Cruz. He’d probably been worried.

Before Lily could recover, I stepped forward. “I’m Allison Luther, but everyone calls me Lex. What do you mean, you’re here to help?”

The woman—Kirsten—glanced between Lily and me. “I’m sorry, but I can’t talk to you in front of a clan witch. I didn’t go through our regular channels.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Lily took my arm. “Please give us a moment, ma’am,” she said contritely. The woman gave her a regal nod, and Lily practically dragged me back toward the house.

“What’s going on?” I hissed.

Lily positioned herself so her back was facing the woman. She took a deep breath. “You know how Si and I sometimes joke that my mom’s a witch queen?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Well, that woman back there is the real deal. In Sweden, witches have actual royalty. She’s from that family, though her mother moved them to America.”

I stared at her. “How do you know all this?”

“Because she runs the witches in LA, the way my mother is the witch in charge of Colorado. Only in Los Angeles all three Old World factions have equal billing.”

Cruz had said as much, but I hadn’t really expected it to be true. “Okay, I get it, she’s impressive. But can we trust her?”

Lily shrugged, but her expression was still a little rattled. “If you can trust this Cruz, I guess you can trust her. I don’t like leaving you alone with her, but . . .” She winced. “Honestly, if she wanted to drop a house on you or something, I probably couldn’t stop her. I’ve been using apex magic for six months. Kirsten Harms has probably never done anything else.”

I squeezed her arm, feigning a confidence I didn’t feel. “I’ll be fine. Why don’t you go ahead and drive the animals to Jake’s clinic? I’ll take a cab back to John’s.”

The whole time we were talking, Kirsten just waited patiently at the end of the driveway. When we walked back down to her, Lily said a cautious goodbye and headed for the Jeep.

Before I could think of anything to say, Kirsten turned to me and asked pleasantly, “Would you like to go for a walk? It’s a lovely night.”

“Um, sure.”

We started along the road near my house. It should have been pitch black out here, but the clouds from earlier in the day had finally parted, revealing a nearly full moon and a dazzling number of stars. It was almost as light as it’d been that afternoon.

“How did you get here so quickly?” I asked after we’d walked for a few minutes. Well, I walked. Kirsten’s stride was closer to a waddle.

A smile broke over her pale face. “The cardinal vampire in Los Angeles has a private plane, though it’s not exactly something he advertises. But Jesse seemed to think you needed help right away. And when he explained the circumstances, I worked out that his concern was justified.”

I checked her out of the corner of my eyes, but her expression was unreadable. “I don’t follow.”

“Jesse said you were having a problem related to boundary magic and people dying with no apparent injuries,” she said. “I went online and found articles in your newspaper about the deaths, and eventually confirmed that there have been unusual animal attacks in Boulder recently. I probably would have come out here on a commercial flight for that alone, but Jesse said you were not answering your phone. He was very worried.”

I had dropped the disposable phone in the driveway, and it had been crushed when Lily drove up to rescue me. My regular cell had buzzed in my pocket while I was sitting in Simon’s car, but I hadn’t had a spare moment to think about it, let alone check to see who’d called. “I’m sorry. I was on the phone with Cruz when I encountered . . . something. It kind of drove all other thoughts from my mind.”

Kirsten stopped walking and turned to face me. “Was that something a large man with blue-toned skin?” she asked, perfectly calm.

The bubble of uncertainty in my chest popped, replaced by a flood of relief. “You know what he is?”

“I do.” Her face and voice were suddenly sad. “And if he’s here, you’re going to need to know, too.” She paused. “I’m sorry, I got tired more quickly than I expected. Is there somewhere we could sit down?”

I eyed her belly doubtfully. “I’d invite you into my house, but he knows where I live. We only came back to get my rescue animals away from the house.”

The look she gave me was unmistakably sympathetic. “Then things are worse than I thought. But I can help with that, at least.”

“How?”

She smiled, a look full of wry amusement. “Magic.”

 

I hadn’t seen a whole lot of magic performed, and nearly all of it had been what I now understood to be minor charms and hexes—spells that could clean a messy room or protect a person from immediate physical harm. But Kirsten operated on another level entirely. We walked back to the front of my house, where she pulled a few small supplies out of her bag—apothecary bottles, a small piece of carved wood, some sort of herb in a baggie—and asked me to help her crouch down near the ground. I did, holding her slender arm carefully. She seemed awfully fragile for someone so swollen with life.

Kirsten mumbled something under her breath, scratched a circle around herself in the dirt, and sprinkled the herbs. I wasn’t sure what was happening until a sudden lack of light caught my attention. The stars were as bright as ever, but the lights I’d left on in the house had been extinguished. My busted car had vanished from the driveway, and even Kirsten’s rental car seemed to have disappeared from the curb. The house looked completely deserted.

I gaped. “How did you do that?”

Kirsten gestured for me to help her stand, which I did. “It’s tricky, finding a spell that more or less works on witches,” she said cheerfully. “The magic in your blood would block most things I could throw at you directly, but this isn’t a spell to affect you—it’s a spell to bend light. You’re just seeing the effect, like anyone else would. But it only works from a distance.”

“So we can move around inside the house—”

“And it’ll still look deserted, yes. Until first light.”

Within a few minutes we were settled at my kitchen table with tea for me and hot chocolate for Kirsten. She wrapped both of her small hands around the mug, and I marveled at her. She may have dressed like Lily, but she reminded me so much of Maven: the same delicate looks that belied extreme strength and power.

I was dying for her to start explaining, but she sat there for a moment, and I realized she was trying to figure out where to begin.

“Jesse said you only learned about being a witch fairly recently,” she said at last. “Is that true?”

I realized, then, that this woman either didn’t know what I was or was taking the news better than any witch I’d met yet. I was hoping for the latter, but decided not to mention the whole “death in my blood” thing unless I had to. “Yes. But the witches here have been giving me lessons. I’m catching up.”

“Have they explained what boundary witches did during the Inquisition in Europe?”

It seemed like an odd place to begin, even if she did know what I was, but I started to nod. Then I reconsidered what Simon and Lily actually said versus what I’d sort of pieced together from context. “I was told that boundary witches were particularly upset by the persecution of witches during the Inquisition. They wanted to raise the dead and send them after the Inquisitors. I got the impression that a few of them even did it. Then they were stopped.” It occurred to me for the first time that I’d never actually asked what had stopped them. Suddenly that seemed like a pretty enormous oversight.

Kirsten just nodded again, taking a ladylike sip of her hot chocolate. “That’s the cleaned-up version, yes.”

“So what’s the real version?”

“They did raise the dead and send it after the Inquisitors. That part is true.” It should have sounded ridiculous, but her voice was so solemn it scared me. “But it wasn’t an army of the dead, like something out of a horror movie. It was just one person. And he wasn’t really a human.”

“What was he, then?”

She put the mug down, squaring her shoulders. “The first boundary witch.”

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