Vowed (2 page)

He shifts next to me, trying to get comfortable on the roof, and I frown at him irritably. I hate sharing overwatch with anyone, especially someone who can’t seem to sit still for longer
than three seconds.

‘Where’s Aiden?’ he asks after about thirty seconds of silence.

I suppress a sigh and point. He sights down the line of my arm. Aiden’s curled up in wolf form in the darkest shadow of the furthest warehouse. I can easily see him using my sight but
Strach takes a bit longer using the binocs.

‘How do you do that?’ he asks me and I smirk at him.

‘Magic,’ I whisper back.

He snorts and we lie silently side by side watching the empty square of concrete before the two warehouses, which form a T-shape. After a few moments Strach rummages in his bag and hands me a
choc chip cookie that I take without comment and munch, relishing the sticky sweetness of it. A few months ago I would have eaten the entire bag of cookies, because the hunger my magic generated
would have demanded it. Keeping vigil like this would have required an entire bag full of eats: using my sight while also using magic to create a protective layer of warmth. I would have needed a
week’s rest too to recover from abusing my magic, but these days my magic comes more easily and takes far less of a toll than it did in the past.

Something happened while I was in the Otherwhere, fighting tooth and nail against Istvan and Olga as they tried to complete a ritual to bring back the Elder Gods. I was exposed to powerful
magics: a crazy ritual on an island humming with latent ancient magic, and I was drenched in a tide of power that spilled from Olga when I decapitated her. My own magic, sluggish and tired, pulled
the new power inside, content and sated for the first time since I discovered my ability.

It took a long while to get used to how fast my magic now comes to my bidding. I no longer see it as a separate thing I consciously think about using. It’s just there, doing what I want it
to do. I spent time with Aelfric’s sorcerers as I lay recovering from my own wounds and they reluctantly taught me how to tap into the well of magic within me. I also learned how, if
it’s ever exhausted, to draw on the natural energies of the world around me. They urged me to go to them for proper training, but being in Alba, especially the Royal Citadel, hurt too much. I
couldn’t think of being there without thinking about Thorn.

The High King of Alba’s youngest son entered my life in a mess of blood and tangled truths and I found myself intrigued by him and the madness that surrounded us. A part of me wonders
where he is and what he’s doing almost every time I’m not busy with something else.

I find myself moping around, remembering how he laughed and tried to be polite to everyone and mostly how he hated Aiden making fun of him. More than anything, I remember him saying goodbye to
me. I remember how utterly broken I felt as the door closed behind him, leaving me standing alone and hurt in a beautiful room overlooking the gardens of the Citadel.

Much later, when his mother came to talk to me, she took one look at my face and held me as if I was breaking. Maybe I was. I hated her so much right then. I wanted to push her away and shout
and scream at her, but then I saw how deeply she was affected by her son leaving too and I felt vile and selfish, which made me sob even more.

She sat with me until the sun set, speaking to me about the decision to send Thorn away. How, in their wildest dreams and in her nightmares, they did not expect the duty of the guardianship to
fall to one of their sons. The guardian prophecy was an ancient one, one fulfilled over time by various noble Sidhe houses. The tradition had fallen by the wayside and for the past four or five
hundred years no guardian had been sent to watch over the worlds, because the prophecies never spoke of invasion. The Fae set great stock by their prophecies, seers and sorcerers.

I felt angry, but not just for me. I genuinely thought Thorn had been betrayed by his entire family and I wanted nothing to do with them. She left, pressing a kiss to my forehead, with a promise
to send me Megan, but I had kept quiet, sitting rigidly on the bed, staring at her as she shut the door behind her. She left a small item behind, and I curled my fingers around it. I knew what it
was without looking. Thorn’s ring.

Megan, Marc and Kyle stormed the room, bringing with them laughter, hugs, tears and gossip. I listened, feeling hollow, holding on to the ring. When they left I opened my hand and looked at the
plain gold band. It was far too big for me but I slid it onto my ring finger on my right hand and closed my fist over it. A small vibration startled me and I opened my hand to find that it had
resized itself, now looking as if it had been made for me.

‘. . . not even listening,’ Strach says in my ear, his breath tickling my cheek.

‘What?’ I say, jerking back, annoyed that I had let myself wander around my memories while on a job.

‘Morika is on her way.’

I blink at him and frown.

‘So soon?’

‘It’s after three in the morning, Kit.’

I pretend not to hear the reprimand in his voice. I lost three hours thinking morbid thoughts rather than paying attention to the job at hand. ‘Who is she bringing with her?’

‘Three others. And a human.’

I nod. I tug the dog whistle out of my pocket and give three short blows on it. Aiden’s head comes up and looks in my direction, but he doesn’t leave the shadows. I can see the blue
of his eyes clearly in the darkness and I hold up my left hand, showing him four fingers, then close it in a fist, then show him one finger. Four Fae, one human.

He swings his head away and sits up.

‘Aiden’s ready.’

‘We have the team on standby.’

I flash Strach a grin. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Absolutely.’

I stand up and stretch, getting the kinks out of my back and legs.

‘Let’s do it.’

I step off the roof and drop to the ground, bending my legs to absorb the impact, my coat swirling around my legs; I feel so Batman right then. With my drawn sword and Strach on my left, a
comforting presence with his twin fighting knives and long braid, we slip between the buildings towards the warehouse forming the cross-bar of the T. Behind us other shadows skim the night and fall
in behind us. Not a single footstep sounds on the concrete and we ghost into the unlocked warehouse just as Morika walks in with her group. My escort fades into the background to circle them
without a sound and I step forward into a beam of light slanting through the broken warehouse roofing.

Morika’s head comes up and I see her nostrils flare as she catches my scent. The three Fae behind her stop in confusion when they see me, but the human just keeps on walking, his head bent
while his thumbs work the keypad of his mobile phone, oblivious to any threat.

I stand quietly, just watching them, trying to figure out what they will do. I think Morika will fight, but I don’t know whether the human will or what the three Fae will decide to do.

The human notices his Fae friends staring at something and looks up from texting. His jaw drops open in surprise.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘This is private property. You can’t be here.’

I shrug. ‘You don’t own this property. You’re not allowed to be here either.’

He blusters and looks at his friends but Morika steps forward. She has a tall shepherd’s crook in one hand. It completes her Swiss farm-maid look. She taps the staff on the floor and it
grows by another four foot, becoming a lance, bearing her house crest on the blade. She tosses her cap off into the shadows and a pair of ram’s horns sprout from her brow. Her thick auburn
hair cascades down her back and her eyes glint in the dark as she faces me, her gaze dropping to the softly glowing piece of antler hanging around my neck.

‘Blackhart,’ she says, sounding annoyed. ‘You are interrupting a serious business transaction.’

‘What I’m interrupting is a drug deal,’ I reply. ‘I’m stopping you from selling more Glow to this stupid man. Dealing drugs is illegal in both worlds, Morika. Did
you think no one would notice human teenagers dying in clubs? And from drugs rumoured to come from fairies themselves?’

Her answer is to leap forward and swing the lance at me. I don’t move and the lance slams to a halt inches away from my face as it shudders into the wall of magic that surrounds her.
She’s walked into the circle I’d drawn earlier, into which I’d then spent most of the day pouring my magic. A bolt of energy sizzles along the haft of the lance and she lets out a
yelp of frustration as it burns her hands; it drops to the floor with a clatter.

It’s not necessary, because she can’t go anywhere, but I still point my sword at her. Behind her, Strach and the rest of our team have surrounded her small group of cronies. Aiden
has a giant wolf paw resting on the chest of the human – he tried to run the moment Morika grew a full set of ram’s horns before his eyes.

‘Morika, Lady of the House of the Ram, by the authority of the High King of Alba and by the trust placed in the House of Blackhart, you are sentenced to return to the Seelie Court. There
you will face punishment in accordance to the treaties signed by the Summer King. Your crimes are numerous and show a disregard for the lives of those who inhabit both the mortal world and Alba.
The creation and selling of hallucinogenic substances is a major offence in both worlds and for this alone you are sentenced to be taken back to face a jury of your peers. You will have a chance to
plead your case, but we will submit the consequences of your deeds in this world to the judge. Your trial is set to start in seven days’ time.’

Morika’s beautiful face twists with anger. ‘Your time will come, Blackhart.’ She swears loudly, slamming her hands into the wall of magic keeping her trapped. ‘Do you
hear me, girl? I will hurt you so badly the next time we meet; your precious family won’t even recognize you.’

I watch her rage for a few seconds, wondering if I’ll ever get over the shock of being disliked by the Fae I send back to the Otherwhere. My cousins shrug it off, wearing the threats
against them like badges of honour. Me? I keep an eye on the shadows all the time. It makes for uneasy trips to the shops.

Once Morika’s threats peter out and she’s glowering at me venomously, I spin on my heel, sheathe my sword and nod to Strach. He takes out the token from the Seelie King’s
chamberlain, Zane, and snaps it between his fingers. I walk out into the night and breathe the night air. Behind me I hear the team secure the three Fae and prepare to transport them back to Alba.
The small token will open a portal for long enough to send them all into the arms of Counsellor Zane and his guards, ready for sentencing. The human is stripped of his wallet and the Fae hit him
with a memory spell, making sure he won’t remember anything that went down in the warehouse.

I pocket the wallet and join up with Aiden, who’s waiting for me by the gates, still in wolf form. He falls in beside me as we walk through the gates into the night surrounding the quiet
suburb.

‘I don’t know about you, but I need sleep.’

In answer he nudges my hand with his head and I curl my fingers into the ruff around his neck for a moment, taking strength from his presence. Aiden lopes off and I take my time walking back to
the van. By the time I get there he’s back in human form and dressed in jeans and a hoodie, his concession to the colder weather.

He wordlessly hands me a mug of coffee from the thermos in the back of the van and I wrap myself around the black stuff, drinking it in.

‘You sure you want to finish up as planned?’ Aiden asks as he sits next to me in the open door of the van.

‘The instructions were clear,’ I tell him. ‘We signed the contract.’

‘The Spooks are gonna have a fit when they realize what went down here and they weren’t involved.’

I shrug and push my own doubts aside. Her Majesty’s Department of Supernatural Defence and Investigation, or the HMDSDI, more popularly known to us as the Spook Squad, have been unable to
make head or tail of the Glow case. I think I know more about the supernatural world than they do, and that’s not saying much.

‘Strach and his team know what they’re doing. We’re dropping the human in the West End. None of this will bounce back on us.’

Aiden grumbles under his breath but I take comfort that I’m following Uncle Andrew’s orders to a T. We all know what happens when I go off script.

We don’t have long to wait. Strach and two of his team turn up with the unconscious glamoured human, the others escorting Morika and her cronies back to the Otherwhere. They take a moment
to each give me a slightly formal nod and an odd little half-bow of the head before leaving the human on the floor between them. I’m dropping them near Hyde Park, where they’ve arranged
for the forester Crow to wait and take them back to the Citadel.

As we drive off, the sky behind us is lit by an explosion that rocks the quiet neighbourhood. Destroying the warehouse is symbolic and messy but necessary. It sends a message to whoever is
running Glow in the Frontier that the Blackharts don’t play around. I watch the flames reach for the sky in the van’s wing mirror before I point its nose north, back towards the
ramshackle house I share with my cousins while Blackhart Manor is being rebuilt.

Fire at Disused Warehouse in Catford Brought Under Control

I walk into the house just before dawn and find Kyle waiting up for me. I notice, not for the first time, that his shoulders have widened in the last few months, pulling
tightly at his T-shirt. He’s in desperate need of a haircut too and in danger of looking like a hipster with it falling into his eyes all the time. I resist the urge to tuck it away and
instead watch him curiously as he goes about making me breakfast.