The Mage in Black (32 page)

Approaching footsteps sounded behind me. I spun into a crouch, my gun ready for action. Damara stopped short at the mouth of the tunnel, her hands raised. “Whoa, chill out. It’s just me.”

I frowned. “Damara?” Relief over seeing a familiar face was mixed with confusion. Damara seemed like an odd choice for Maisie to send with a message. “How’d you find me?” Maisie had sent me to Vein, so she would have sent Damara there first.

She nodded behind me toward Stryx. “I used the owl to track you down.”

Sounded reasonable, so I nodded, but I was still tense. If Maisie had sent Damara it meant something had changed. “What’s going on?”

Damara waved a hand. “Maisie wants you to meet her at the Crossroads tonight.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“Orpheus worked everything out with Queen Maeve. Convinced her you were defending yourself. The council has dropped all charges against you.”

I frowned. “If everything’s fine, why didn’t Maisie come and tell me this herself?”

“The festival. She’s been really busy getting everything ready.”

While I absorbed that, Damara fidgeted impatiently. In fact, she seemed downright agitated. I hadn’t noticed it at first, since she caught me off guard. My instincts told me something wasn’t right.

“So why not send Adam? Or Giguhl?”

She looked to the left. “I don’t know. Look, we need to hurry.”

I lowered my eyebrows. “Why the rush?”

“It’s a surprise.” She crossed her arms. The move made her shirt gape and exposed a glint of gold between her breasts.

“I don’t like surprises.” I crossed my arms, mirroring her. “Nice necklace, by the way.”

She looked down and released her arms. Then her eyes shifted, going hard as she looked at me again. “Thanks. It belonged to my mother.”

My eyes narrowed. “Did it, now?”

She pulled the necklace from her shirt and toyed with it. “She gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday. One week before she disappeared.”

I stilled. Rhea had told me Damara’s mother had died at the vineyard. Even though my instincts told me something was off here, a trickle of doubt crept in. Maybe the girl didn’t know the significance of the necklace. “Does that symbol mean anything?” I asked, playing dumb to see if she knew.

Damara laughed, the sound bitter. Her posture transformed from the drooping slouch of a teen to the tight, hard stance of a pissed-off woman. “Sabina, let’s not patronize each other,” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. “We both know what this symbol means.”

“What does the Caste have to do with all this?”

“All you need to know is they want you dead, and I’m going to make sure they get their wish.”

“Be careful, little girl.” I lifted my gun. “You’re playing a dangerous game here.”

She crossed her arms, unruffled by the weapon aimed at her chest. “The only one in danger here is you. Who do you think manipulated the weres into attacking you? Who do you think summoned Eurynome? Who do you think forced Lenny to go after that annoying demon of yours? You think you’re so tough, but you’re really just an idiot who doesn’t know when you’re not wanted.”

I raised my eyebrow. “If you’re so dangerous, why am I still alive?”

She gritted her teeth. “I’ll admit it was a mistake to send others to do my dirty work. But now I’m going to finish the job I started the night you arrived.”

“Well, you can certainly try,” I said, raising the gun.

She smiled wickedly at the gun. Suddenly, the static of rising magic made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Before I could pull the trigger, a stun spell slammed into me. My limbs went cold and heavy.

She laughed and plucked the gun from my frozen hand. “Too bad your demon isn’t here to save you this time. He proved incredibly hard to kill, and I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get you alone after he survived the attack at Vein. Of course, then you fucked up and got the council to turn against you, which made it a lot easier to get you alone tonight.” Her fist cracked into my jaw. “That’s for killing Hawthorne, you bitch.”

I couldn’t move, but I could feel. And right then my blood felt like lava in my veins. The muscles in my jaw ached from both the blow and from wanting to scream at her. To demand answers.

“Ooh, you’re mad, aren’t you?” she said with a fake pout. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you? You’re dying to know why and how.” She whistled low, and a second later Stryx landed on her shoulder. She raised her free hand to pet the owl. “Did you know several human races consider owls harbingers of death?”

I racked my brain, trying to remember if Damara had ever been around when Maisie and I discussed my immunity to the forbidden fruit. I prayed she hadn’t been. Because if she shot me, I’d survive and get a chance to teach this little bitch a thing or two about harbingers of death.

She moved closer now, crowding me. I couldn’t see the gun, but I sure as hell felt the cold steel digging into the skin over my heart. “Who’s going to mourn you, murderer?”

Knowing you’re about to get shot is strange. Several things happen at once. Normally, you brace yourself for impact, but frozen as I was, I could only watch and wait. You hear the explosion. Feel the punch of the bullet. The scent of gunpowder singes your nose. But it takes a few seconds for the pain to register. In this case, because she’d shot at such close range, the bullet seared a path through my chest before forcing its way out my back.

Despite knowing the bullet couldn’t kill me, my body still freaked out as pain overrode reason. My heart pumped like a piston in overdrive. Cold, clammy sweat covered my skin. I panted and grabbed at my chest.

A second of panic passed before I realized I was able to move again. The alloy used to make my special apple bullets contained brass, which dampened the spell. It wasn’t enough to outright cancel the spell, though, so each movement was like wading through quicksand. Thank the goddess I’d fed so recently. If this had happened before I replenished my blood, I’d probably have passed out for a couple of hours.

Despite the red haze of pain, I knew I didn’t have the luxury of writhing around. Pretty soon, Damara would start to wonder why I hadn’t combusted. I could sense her standing over me, enjoying the pain she’d inflicted. Somewhere nearby, Stryx screeched, clearly agitated as he flew away. Reaching into my boot without her noticing took effort—more effort with the dampened spell making my movements sluggish. But soon enough I gripped the handle in my fist.

Severing her Achilles tendon was like slicing through a rubber band. Before she realized what happened, her leg collapsed out from under her. My muscles screamed with exertion, but I managed to grab her ruined ankle and squeeze. She screamed and writhed against the pain.

The urge to kill was strong. I wanted to punish this little bitch for all the problems she’d caused me. I wanted to make her understand that no one fucked with me and lived to brag about it. But I leashed the primal need in favor of reason. Killing her now would be a mistake. She had information I needed. And I’d already learned the hard way that killing first and asking questions later didn’t work for me anymore.

I left her writhing on the ground and felt around the dark tunnel for the spent shell casing. While the bullet itself had brass in the alloy, the casing itself was pure brass. It was my only option for ensuring Damara couldn’t use magic against me while I got my answers.

Finally, my fingers closed around the shell. I crushed the metal in my fist until it was a small clump instead of a cylinder. Holding the brass helped release the lingering spell, quickening my movements. I climbed on top of the screaming mage and pinned her hands under my knees. Then I shoved the brass into her gaping mouth. She sputtered and choked, but I pinched her nose and covered her mouth. Her eyes widened in panic. Her face went blue and then green before she finally swallowed.

I released her and fell back on my ass. My breath heaved in and out, each labored breath bringing a shock of pain in my chest. Tears streaked Damara’s face, but her eyes shone with hatred instead of fear. I didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. She was lucky I’d let her live—for now.

I grabbed the cell out of my pocket and called Slade. I gave him a Cliffs Notes version of the situation and told him where to meet me. “I’ll be there in ten,” Slade said before disconnecting.

I slapped the phone closed and shoved it in my pocket. Behind me, the sounds of flapping wings signaled Stryx’s departure. Stupid owl.

“Now,” I said, jerking Damara off the ground. She whimpered and limped against the pain in her ankle. I shoved her forward, holding her hands behind her. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about the Caste of Nod.”

T
hirty minutes later, Slade pulled the BMW up to a warehouse in a seedy section of the city. A sign on the building read “Romulus Imports.” Slade and I had debated where to conduct the interrogation when he picked us up. My vote had been Vein, but he’d vetoed that idea, claiming the bar wasn’t private enough. So he’d called in a favor from Michael Romulus, who offered the use of one of his warehouses.

The bay door opened, and Michael waved at Slade to pull the car into the loading area. I sat in the back with my gun nuzzled up against Damara’s ribs. She’d been quiet the entire ride, but when she saw the four massive werewolves waiting inside the warehouse, she tensed for flight.

“Don’t even think about it,” I said.

Slade turned off the engine and exited. He opened the back door and pulled Damara out, leaving me to follow. I shook Michael’s hand. “Thanks for this,” I said.

He nodded, his eyes on Damara. “Anything you need.”

“Where should we do this?” I asked.

“Follow me,” Michael said, motioning for Slade to bring Damara along. He led us into a storeroom off the main warehouse area. Rex came forward with a pair of brass cuffs and made quick work of binding the mage into a chair. Damara’s chin was high during the entire process. I’d give her points for bravery, but I didn’t expect it would last long.

“You can torture me all you want,” she said. “I’m not telling you shit.”

I approached her slowly, letting her wonder what I had in store for her. Despite her brave front, her body trembled so hard the chair’s legs squeaked against the concrete floor. “I already know you’re working for the Caste. I also know you summoned Eurynome and tried to have Giguhl killed in Slade’s club.”

Beside me, Slade hissed and flashed his fangs at the mage. Her eyes widened.

“I also know,” I continued, “that you called the Lone Wolves on my ass in the park that night.”

A low growl came from behind me. Damara cowered in the chair.

“It’s a full moon tonight, right, Michael?” I asked, my eyes still on the mage.

“Yep,” he said.

“What do you guys normally do to celebrate?” I asked in a casual tone.

He came to stand next to me, looming over Damara with his arms crossed. “We all change into our wolf forms at midnight and then have a big hunt.”

I looked at him. “Have you ever hunted a mage?”

He shrugged, playing along. “No, but we’d be willing to make an exception in this case.” He looked around at his buddies. “Right, boys?”

Four growls filled the small room. Even though I knew they were playing it up to help me out, the sound made the hair on my arms prickle.

Damara’s eyes widened as she looked around the room. A trickle of sweat rolled down from her temple. “You’re bluffing.”

I smiled. “You willing to wait an hour for these guys to change and prove you wrong?”

She swallowed convulsively. “But I didn’t do anything to you,” she whined to Michael.

He leaned down into her face. “You put my pack in danger.” He sniffed her hair.

She shied away. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Memorizing your scent for the hunt.”

She whimpered. “I didn’t mean for your guys to get hurt. I just wanted her dead.”

My eyebrow quirked. “Why?”

Realizing she’d slipped, she clamped her mouth shut and shook her head.

“Okay, why don’t you tell me how? You didn’t follow me to the park. I would have smelled you. How’d you know where to tell him to look for me?”

She smiled then, some of her bravado returning. “The owl. You were so stupid you didn’t even know he’s been spying on you for the Caste for weeks.”

I gritted my teeth together. “Adam told me Stryx was a spy for Lilith.”

“An old wives’ tale. Stryx has worked for the Caste for centuries.”

“That fucking owl. I always thought he was creepy.”

“I wouldn’t have had to use him at all if you’d died that first night like you were supposed to.”

I frowned at her. “What are you talking about?”

“The cleansing potion.”

My mouth fell open. Memory of the cleansing ceremony flashed in my head. Now I remembered how it had been Damara who handed Rhea the potion. “What did you put in it?”

“Apple juice and strychnine.”

I smiled evilly at her. “Nice try, you little bitch. I’m immune to the forbidden fruit.” Without the apple to remove my immortality the poison hadn’t killed me, but that certainly explained my violent reaction to the brew.