Witch Hunt, A Paranormal/Urban Fantasy (The Maurin Kincaide Series) (9 page)

I threw on my wool pea coat, grabbed the army bag and told Amalie that I was ready to go.
She was waiting for me with my coffee at the front door. I took the cup from her and started down the steps to the parking lot. From the second floor landing, I could hear her fixing my door. I couldn’t help smiling despite the sadness that I felt about my apartment no longer being my safe haven. The only constant in my out-of-control life up to this point had been my home. I could escape the craziness constantly swirling around the Council when I was there and pretend to be normal, even if it was only for a few hours. It seemed that was over for now. I was virtually homeless and at the mercy of my friends for a place to sleep. After she fixed my door, Amalie caught up with me and we walked out together.

Cash was waiting for us next to his truck.
I stopped on the passenger side, hoping a ladder was going to drop out when I opened the door. With the lift and huge tires that he had on this pick-up, I was sure that I would need one. Amalie hopped in and held out a hand. I grabbed a hold of her and climbed in.

The ride back to Mahalia’s was quiet.
I didn’t bother filling Amalie in on the way. She’d hear all the gory details soon enough and I just really wanted some quiet before the barrage of questions that waited for me. The Council would be expecting a full report. I would have to answer to Agrona for being taken by humans. Roul would want a tactical briefing and Mahalia would be dissecting every detail for clues leading to the Inquisitors’ real location. All I could think about, however, was the brand on my neck. I wanted to know what it meant. I caught myself tracing the raised skin more than once during the drive.

Once again the familiar gables came into view.
I was getting really sick of coming over here. Cash pulled up in front of the witches’ headquarters, which had once been the home of one of the men who had condemned them so many years ago. You had to give her credit; Mahalia had a sense of humor. We got out and walked up to the front door. Amalie walked right in. I hesitated for a second and Cash gave me a little shove.

“Move your ass, Maurin,” he said, but I could tell by his tone that what he meant was, ‘Go ahead, it’s okay.’

I couldn’t figure out why he was being so nice to me. I certainly hadn’t given him any reason to do so. We hadn’t exactly hit it off the last time that he had been here and he had openly challenged Roul for Alpha of the Salem pack. I didn’t like him and I was pretty sure that he didn’t really like me all that much either, but somewhere along the line we had formed a truce and right now, walking back into Mahalia’s house, I was glad that he was my frenemy.

I saw a few faces that I knew in the crowd that had gathered inside Mahalia’s house.
Juno and Phallon were sitting with Oberon and Graive. They seemed to be deep in conversation. Amalie was headed their way and I couldn’t help feeling a sense of betrayal. Graive had managed to ingratiate herself not only with Oberon, but with the rest of the coven as well. Of course they’d see her as an ally and friend, here to help rid the coven of their enemy. I wish I could say that I felt the same way. It wasn’t just because of Oberon. There was something off about her and it was more than the necromancy. She wasn’t walking into the territory of the strongest vampire family on the East Coast to help the coven out of the goodness of her heart. I decided to find out just what her motives really were.

I left Cash to mingle with the witches and to search for Mahalia.
She was sitting in her study with the rest of the Council. As usual, the conversation died as soon as I walked into the room.

I felt Agrona’s power before her words hit my ears and I instinctively dropped my gaze.
I bore the scars from the last time I went up against Agrona, and I was still too tired to fight with her tonight. She sat in the arm chair beside Mahalia’s desk as if it was her throne, regal in simple black pants and an emerald green off-the-shoulder cashmere sweater.

“It would seem that once again we are to be entertained with a tale of your e
xploits, Maurin,” Agrona said.

I unbuttoned my coat and leaned on the door frame, keeping some distance between us.

“Yeah, well, I was hoping that Mahalia would be the one to lead story time tonight. She hasn’t been real forthcoming with information so far and I think an explanation is a little overdue. You can start with what the hell the brand on my neck means, Mahalia,” I said, not even bothering to hide the anger and frustration in my voice.

I thought Agrona would squeal with d
elight at my irritation with Mahalia. As far as she was concerned, too much of my attention had been given to the coven. She didn’t care that we had been trying to hone my new abilities. I was not progressing quickly enough under the tutelage of the witches, according to the vampire queen and her court. It was obvious that she had plans of her own for me.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right, Maurin.”
Mahalia opened a dusty old book on her desk and turned back around to face the rest of us.

“This is the Clavicle; it is more co
mmonly known as The Key of Solomon the King. Since the fourteen-hundreds, along with the Malleus Maleficarum (or Hammer of Witches), it was one of the greatest weapons the Inquisitors had. As each generation died and the average age of the Inquisitor fell below thirty, the old traditions and methods of their organization were lost. The scholars and old texts had been abandoned for soldiers and a more military style of attack. Finally, witches were able to regain their foothold in society. With each new century, we were able to gain acceptance as midwives and healers. The Shift, however, proved to be both a blessing and a curse, with both light and dark magic being brought completely out in the open. It would seem that despite all of the world’s talk of progress, it has lost some of its tolerance. Since the Shift, we have seen an increase in attacks on covens of Earth and Blood magic users alike. Based on the mark on Maurin’s neck, it would seem that the Inquisitors have rediscovered the Key,” Mahalia explained.

She continued. “The mark on your neck is from the Fifth Pentacle of the Moon and a symbol of
lachadiel. The Inquisitors would call upon him to aid in the destruction of their enemies and against all phantoms of the night. Had they been successful in leaving the other message on your body, I have no doubt that it would be from Psalm LXVIII: ‘Let God arise and let his enemies be scattered.’ Alive or dead, you’ve fulfilled your purpose to them; they’ve proven their strength by taking you and you have delivered the message that they have the Key.”

“So it’s not some anti-witch sentiment?
It’s more like a ward of protection? That my enemies will be destroyed? How does that help them? Shouldn’t they have placed that mark on themselves as a team tattoo or something, instead of branding it on their enemy?” I asked, surprised.

“It is most definitely meant as an anti-witch sentiment, but I suppose it could be seen as a ward of protection as well.
As for any benefit to you, as with all magic, the power is in believing. Without faith in the Key and the belief that it was delivered by divination to Solomon, there is no benefit to having the mark on your body whatsoever,” Mahalia said.

That might be true, but I couldn’t help feeling that the mark might indicate som
ething more sinister. I know that it was intended as a threat to the coven, but I was the one stuck with the mark for the rest of my life, and I wasn’t even a witch. So as far as I was concerned, it might represent something far worse than a mere symbol of an angel who destroys your enemies. If the raised eyebrows around the room meant anything, I’d say that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

The next couple of hours in Mahalia’s study were spent going over and over what had happened outside my apartment and on Winter Island.
The questions were relentless and exactly what I had expected. After telling the story for what seemed like the thousandth time, Agrona threw me a curve ball.

“So the human stood with you rather than the Inquisitors when he was given the chance?” she asked, clearly puzzled by this fact.

“Of course,” I said, insulted. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“He’s a human and it has been my exper
ience that, given the choice, they will choose to side with other humans,” she said.

“He’s my friend.
He wouldn’t turn on me,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Have you never been betrayed by a friend?
We should all be so lucky,” she replied sarcastically.

“Of course I have been betrayed by friends, but never by Matthison.
He was a friend to me when others treated me like a leper. He gave me a job and a purpose,” I said, surprised to hear a sentiment escape my lips that was so similar to the one that I had been so angered by during my recent argument with Matthison.

“Oh dear, I have offended your all-too-human sensibilities.
You are so very young and still have so very much to learn. Humans are every bit as shrewd and ruthless as any vampire. They are murderous, hypocritical, deceitful little creatures,” she stated apathetically, paying more attention to her fingernails than to me.

“Yeah, well, it seems like you have a lot to learn about friendship and the honor and loyalty shared among cops!” I snapped back.

“Yes, but you’re not with that little task force anymore, are you?” she asked. Her voice was full with an irritating and smug satisfaction.

“Matthison doesn’t see it that way.
Like I said, you’ve got a lot to learn,” I said confidently.

Agrona gave Kedehern a sideways glance before abruptly changing the subject, as if she had the undead form of ADD.

“We are wasting moonlight. My king and I shall attend to vampire affairs. Mahalia, I expect by tomorrow night that you will be ready to present your plan of attack. If in fact they have the Key, this faction of the Inquisitors must be completely removed from Salem.” Agrona stood.

“And if they don’t have the Key?”
Mahalia asked.

“Worried you’ll get a little dirt on your precious soul, Mahalia?” Agrona mocked.
“In all the years that you’ve been on the Council, not once have you had blood on your hands. Did you think that Roul and I would always be the ones to do it? And now, Maurin, will you let her kill for you as we have done? As you were content to do not three months ago?”

“The coven has more than fulfilled our end of the Council agreement over the ce
nturies. We have stood side by side with wolves and vampires on every battlefield,” Mahalia said.

“Yes, throwing up shields, tending wounds; you were never actually striking down your enemies.
And now they’re back because you failed to eradicate them the last time. Do you honestly believe that you will make it in this world without getting a little smut on your soul? I’m sure you could conjure something up to rid yourself of the vermin without assistance from a Vampire or a Necromancer. I trust that you will maintain our agreement; time is of the essence for your friend, Mahalia,” Agrona said darkly.

“We have to find them first, Agrona.
They’ve done a damned good job of cloaking themselves,” Mahalia replied wearily.

“Well, then, I suggest that you not waste a minute of daylight tomorrow,” Kedehern added.

And just like that, the vampires were gone.
I sat down in the chair that Agrona had just vacated, surprised to find it warm. She had fed recently, her body flushed with the life and warmth of the person that she had sucked the life from.

Roul stirred in his seat, clearly unco
mfortable - and not because of the furniture.

“I don’t agree with Agrona very often, hardly ever actually, but I’m going to have to now, Mahalia.
There are pack matters to be dealt with,” Roul said.

Olwyn placed a hand on Roul’s forearm in an effort to calm him.
He jerked away. His wolf was closer to the service than I’d seen in a while, but Roul was still in control.

“No, Olwyn!
I will be heard on this! My challenger cannot be allowed to linger in Salem any longer than he already has. Should I give him all the time he needs to gain favor with some of our wolves? I’m running out of things for him to do and I don’t think that Maurin will tolerate Cash following her around much longer. I’ve already gone beyond the protection that I offered. I called in help the last time that we had an invasion and look what it got me. No. There is pack business on my plate and the pack alone will have to deal with it. We will have no help from the Council. I won’t sacrifice the good of pack or risk being weakened before a challenge. I’m sorry, Mahalia, we have been friends and allies a long time, but I can’t put the coven before my own pack. If the Inquisitors have not been eliminated in the next twenty- four hours, then you’re on your own,” Roul said.

Mahalia looked defeated.
The odds were stacked against her and she was losing valuable allies. We were only able to stop the Morrigna because of our unified forces. I didn’t know enough about the Key to say whether or not the coven could defeat the Inquisitors without the help of the weres and vamps, but if it came down to a fight then I’d feel a hell of a lot better with them beside us.

Olwyn looked to her husband and then to Mahalia; the silence between them grew heavy.

“Roul, I’m sure Mahalia understands the pack’s position, but we can wait until she presents her plan tomorrow night before abandoning our friend,” Olwyn said.