“Got it. And we’ll let you know if we find anything on our end. Stay safe out there.”
“Same,” Theo said. “But immortality probably gives you an advantage there.”
He wasn’t wrong.
* * *
The breakfast party was disbanded. Alexei took the last bite of his bagel downstairs; Lulu followed him. While Connor showered, I checked in with my parents at Cadogan House and Uncle Malik at Washington House. He wasn’t my actual uncle, but my dad’s former Second at Cadogan House, and I’d grown up with him and his wife.
Neither House, unfortunately, had anything to offer regarding the magical burst. They’d been unconscious during the day (being vampires), and the human guards who watched over their Houses hadn’t felt or reported anything. I also sent a message to Black and didn’t get an immediate response, which wasn’t especially surprising. He operated on his own schedule.
Then it was my turn in the shower and dressing for a night of who knew what. Connor opted for his preferred jeans, T-shirt, and boots combo; I went for jeans, boots with a stiletto thin enough to double as a weapon, and a couple of thin, layered shirts to combat the coming fall chill. I pulled my long, wavy blond hair into a topknot—the better to fight with—and offered my attention to the second consciousness inside me.
There were two of us in here. In addition to me, my body housed a remnant of the spell that had bound a supernatural creature into my mother’s katana two decades ago—and that had bound me to my mother, allowing her to give birth to the world’s first vampire child. Lulu’s mother, Mallory, had created that spell. The creature, called the Egregore, had been created by a sorcerer named Sorcha Reed. She’d been killed by her creation.
I called the remnant “monster,” and its presence was a secret that only Connor knew the full truth about, as I hadn’t wanted anyone else—particularly not Aunt Mallory and my parents—to know that I’d been contaminated by Sorcha’s magic. Or feel guilty about any of it.
I’d only recently come to understand monster’s greatest wish—being reunited with the rest of the Egregore in my mother’s sword. Not, as I’d presumed, finishing the Egregore’s mission of ravaging Chicago. Now that I’d finally grokked that wish, monster had become…naggier. It wanted out, as it frequently reminded me. But in addition to requiring from-scratch and risky magic, putting monster into the sword would require me to make a confession I’d been hiding for years. So that wasn’t high on my list.
Checking in with monster usually meant ensuring it wasn’t feeling anxious or hyperactive, which usually meant it needed some stretching or exercise of its own. It seemed to enjoy yoga, although not as much as it used to….
Out,it silently said.
Working on it,I told monster silently for approximately the hundredth time in the last week.It took time to build the spell that put you here, and it’s going to take time to get you out again.
Because I had no idea what I would become if monster was gone, and it also took more bravery than I could spare at the moment, what with the demons.
Let’s be honest—they made a convenient excuse for pretty much everything.
TWO
If the pulse of magic had some physical origin in Chicago, we didn’t see it as we crossed town. Not that we were entirely sure what we were looking for.
Chicago’s mercenary fairies, bereft of their native green lands, had built themselves a castle on the banks of the South Fork of the Chicago River. More defensive fortress than Cinderella’s castle, it rose with towers and crenellations. It had seen its share of misery—including a magical attack by one of its own and a visit from a very pissed-off Lulu. The latter had put me on the receiving end of Lulu’s fireball, which hadn’t been great for my nervous system, but had probably been good for future relations with the fae.
The castle sat at the end of a long stone drive that ran through a wide lawn yellowing with autumn. The gatehouse doors were open, which was not necessarily unusual. But there was no sign of guards, which was. The fae were unmistakably mercenary and rarely left themselves unguarded. Connor parked the SUV he had taken on semipermanent loan from the Pack, given how often we needed a fast ride, and swung the vehicle around so it faced the road.
“Easier exit,” he said.
We climbed out carefully, closed the doors as quietly aspossible. No one came to check on us, and the air was syrupy with power. If magic were a song, this was sweet and slow, like a blues tune played beneath a whirling fan accompanied by the creak of a porch swing. Not the usual Chicago vibe. An effect of the magical pulse?
“Is that Memphis magic?” I asked as I belted on my katana scabbard. The NAC Pack was historically based in Memphis.
“Some of it might be me,” Connor said. He’d come into the full power of an alpha shifter during his first challenge fight a week ago, and he was still adjusting to the sensation.
“Yours is less sweet,” I whispered as we approached in the grass to muffle our footsteps. “More pine forest. Less vanilla caramel left in the sun too long.”
“Did they make the pulse of magic?” he wondered. “There’s so much of it.”
“I imagine we’ll find out pretty fast.”
We reached the gatehouse, walked inside. The magic was even stronger here, even thicker. We walked into the main keep, and caught our first glimpse of fairies. And it wasn’t promising. There were a dozen within and around the various stations in the keep—a small garden, a blacksmith’s forge, a stone well complete with a rotisserie bucket, and a scattering of chickens. But the fairies were all on the ground.
“Shit,” I murmured, and ran toward the closest one. She was a young woman with pale skin and ice blond hair, and she lay at the edge of the garden plot of fall vegetables, including enormous cabbages that rose in leafy rosettes. She was on her back, hair spread beneath her like a halo.
I leaned down. There was no sign of an injury, no blood or bruise. I watched until I saw her chest rise and fall, but the movement was so slight, I thought I’d imagined it. I kept watchinguntil I saw it again. And then, as lightly as I could manage, I touched her hand.
Power rushed me. I snatched my hand away in less than a second, but that small touch was enough to have my fangs descending and my eyes silvering. Colors flashed and became brighter. Everything seemed to sparkle. Was this how fae saw the world?
