He didn’t have much time. They were attacking the mission church at four a.m.
Angie
I weaponed up in my kitchen, which had the only surfaces large enough to hold all my gear. Over my personal armor, I strapped on my gear belt, full of amulets—offensiveattackworkings, defensive ones, as well as healing amulets, each in a specific pocket. I required muscle memory and reflex, not patting myself down for tools. Into one pocket I stuffed a dozen sprigs of rosemary. I smelled like an herb garden. Any breathing vamp would smell me coming, so I activated a smallglamouramulet that made odors vanish. The rosemary smell disappeared. “Okay. Better,” I muttered.
Shiloh snorted. I ignored her, sheathing my silver athame. No reason I should need it but itfeltright.
Over the magical gear belt went a hip holster with two nine millimeters loaded with silver-lead hollow-points. A soaker gun loaded with holy water snapped into my heat-resistant spine holster, though the efficacy of holy water was iffy since vamps got their souls back.
I buckled into my sword harness, a longsword at my left hip and the shortsword at my right for cross draws. The hilts wereheavily wrapped in strips of spelled leather to prevent temperature transfer by aheatorfireworking. I adjusted the harnesses, cinched them tight, and checked the quick release. My battle boots were spelled and armored but not steel-toed. Wearing metal in a magical battle often meant scalded toes, melted plastic, and occasionally a loss of tech. Wood and leather, stone and crystals, heat-resistant cloth, were the best bets. I hadn’t fought a magical battle before—mock ones didn’t count. But the Witch War had taught witches, humans, and vamps the world over a new way to fight, one where guns and explosives and even gases and biologics had uncertain success rates. They might detonate. They might melt. They might lie there and grow mold until the right energies from the right species walked by and then discharge. Fighting magic with magic helped. Except when it didn’t.
“There was a time when your dear skinwalker godmother would have rolled her eyes at that getup,” Shiloh said.
“Aunt Jane, my dear skinwalker godmother, survived battle by being able to shape-shift into another species and heal battle wounds,” I said. “She had an angel at her beck and call for the worst of it. And for most of the last twenty-plus years, she’s had a small army at her back and a line of defenders that all attackers had to defeat before they got to her. I have one body, one vampire, a guard unit, a brother, and whatever the hell you are.”
“That’s not a nice thing to say to your sweet cousin.”
“I don’t have a sweet cousin.”
“True.”
I gave the amulet bags each another check, to be certain the amulets inside were fully charged, simple to use, easily distinguishable from one another.
I propped a hip on my kitchen table and surveyed Shiloh.
My cousin was wearing her psycho armor. Her swordharness and gear belt had been tossed carelessly onto the floor at the door. There were no guns. She was lying on her stomach on the sofa with her heels up, kicking slowly like a child, as she scrolled through the film titles on the wall screen. She had cast a glamour over her face, giving herself smoky eyes in midnight blue sockets, long blue trails ran like tears down her face, and swirls like flames licked up her jaw, flames that ended in her hairline above her temples. Scarlet lips. She had braided her hair back but the glamour streaked the dark red with midnight. She looked like a demon herself, or a modern version of a Celtic witch.
EJ had told me about Walter’s thoughts and the queen’s expectations. It all sucked. Being a Chattanooga consulate, having a permanent guard unit. Having the queen’s assassin assigned to our care. Unless we defeated our enemies and gave ourselves bargaining power.
I had no idea what Shiloh would do in any magic fight except go rogue and get in the way, creating chaos. “What are you going to do at the Sacred Heart of Mary Mission Church?” I asked my crazy cousin.
Shiloh flipped channels.
“Are you going to go along with the plan or—?”
“The plan?” Shiloh whipped to her feet. “That plan haszerochance of actually working, and you know it.” She took a step toward me. “There.” She took a second step. “Are.” Another step. “Demons.” She took the final step, too close for comfort. “Demons who are possessing witch-vampires and regular vampires who have most likely formed a summoning witch-vamp circle. Do you know what that means? Have you asked yourself what that means?”
I didn’t answer, and Shiloh leaned in until our noses were nearly touching.
“They have drank each other’s blood until they are nearly anamchara. And then they will drink the elixir. And then sit in their thrice-bedamned circle, where each of them willeat a demon,” she shouted. “All they need is thefifthvampire to be possessed by a demon or half a demon and they can take over the world. They want Walter!”
“Or you,” I said calmly, staring Cousin Wacko in her glamoured eyes. “You’re a witch-vampire. You’re related to the queen. You would fit the bill perfectly if they can’t get to Walter. So why did the queen sendyou?”
Shiloh’s face flitted through expressions. Beneath them all was…shock.
Shiloh laughed her crazy cackle and walked around me to open the refrigerator door as if she owned my apartment. Reaching behind the eggs, she removed something so small it fit in the palm of her hand. Her glamoured eyes on me, Shiloh made a twisting motion.
I jerked to stop her.
Shiloh drank the contents in a single gulp.
I knew what it was, even without my gift.
Shiloh grinned, her fangs clicked down, catching the light in a golden glimmer.
“What was that? What did you drink?” I asked, knowing the answer.Knowing.
“Why do you think it took me so long to get here? Your security crew originally was composed of your six and their Mithran tracker, Asim. Walter found several vials of the elixir at Londyn’s and Asim took a vial of the elixir to the queen. The first night. Fighting his way through the storm on foot. Then the snow piled up, and he couldn’t get back. The Everharts created a better elixir, though it hasn’t flown yet.”
