hellcat 05 - come hell or high water

• CHAPTER 1
  
• CHAPTER 2
  
• CHAPTER 3
  
• CHAPTER 4
  
• CHAPTER 5
  
• CHAPTER 6
  
• CHAPTER 7
  
• CHAPTER 8
  
• CHAPTER 9
  
• CHAPTER 10
  
• CHAPTER 11
  
• CHAPTER 12
  
• CHAPTER 13
  
• CHAPTER 14
  
• CHAPTER 15
  
• CHAPTER 16
  
• CHAPTER 17
  
• CHAPTER 18
  

Come Hell or High Water

(Hellcat Series Book 5)

by

Sharon Hannaford

COPYRIGHT

Copyright © 2015 Sharon Hannaford

Cover Artwork by Erin Kuhle

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction.  All names, characters, places and occurrences are fictitious and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to actual persons, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or means, electronic or mechanical, without permission from the copyright holder.

DEDICATION

This one is for the unsuspecting local coffee shops I used as secondary offices when the voices in my head refused to talk to me at home.  With one exception, you probably don’t know who you are, but I thank you anyway.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The usual suspects.  You know who you are and you rock!

G, Rob and Ash; wherever you are is home.

PROLOGUE

A capricious breeze tugged at Gabi’s neatly fastened auburn curls and the mid afternoon sun warmed the back of her neck as she took a moment to close her eyes and silently offer a few heartfelt words of farewell.  Then she set a small sprig of herbs and wildflowers alongside the coffin, next to dozens of other similar bouquets, no two exactly the same. 

In solid Magus tradition, each one represented something about both the giver and the relationship they had with the person whose earthly remains lay in the simple, but beautifully crafted, cedar-wood coffin. 

Gabi’s offering had been picked from her own garden.  A stout cutting of rosemary was what she’d chosen to represent herself; it was hardy, not particularly pretty but strong in scent and flavour, quite overpowering if used in excess and, if grown right, could form a protective border around less hardy herbs.  A slender shoot of lavender complete with pale purple flowers was what she’d selected to represent Irene, the Magus they were laying to rest today.  Elegant and timeless, with a subtle, old-world beauty and delicate fragrance, yet able to withstand rain, wind and storms, lavender seemed appropriate for the strong-willed, passionate Magus High Councillor.  Rounding out the posy was a handful of colourful, unpretentious daisies, flax and bluebells symbolising Gabi’s relationship with Irene, and a single, dried poppy head for sadness. 

Not that the funeral was a particularly sombre occasion.  Magi burials tended to be celebratory rather than the morbid affairs of many human send-offs.  No one wore black or grey, except as an accessory, and while tears did occasionally flow, laughter and smiles were more prevalent. 

She moved away from the coffin, giving those behind her the chance to say goodbye in their own ways.  She turned her face towards the sun, looking across the neatly trimmed, grassy meadow to a line of trees protecting the open space.  The trees were all distinctive and ranged from an ash probably over a century old to a willow sapling recently planted.  Each tree was, in essence, a headstone, a memorial to a Magus who had crossed over.  Their presence was both sorrowful and comforting.  Tomorrow there would be one more tree in the protective line. 

Kyle moved to join Gabi as Trish, his beautiful Werewolf mate, stepped forward to lay her simple bouquet of iris and lily alongside his untidy arrangement of sweet peas bound around an oak twig.  Kyle, her best friend for more years than she cared to remember, looked unusually formal in beige chinos and a sky blue, button-down shirt, his sandy-blond hair had even been combed into a semblance of neatness, and his habitual grin was absent.  Trish moved to his side, leaning her head against his chest so that her mahogany tresses covered her face.  He wrapped an arm around her, pressing her close and laying a kiss on the top of her head. 

“This is supposed to be a celebration,” Gabi reminded them, forcing her lips to curve into a teasing smile.

“I know,” he sighed, “but it feels like we’ve been to far too many of these in the past few weeks.  It’s the cumulative effect, I think.” 

Gabi’s smile twisted into something more like a grimace; she couldn’t dispute his sentiment.  She’d never been to so many funerals in such a short space of time; it was downright depressing.  The cost of defending the Magi’s most precious font of power, known to the honoured few as the Source, had been unconscionably high, and the effects of those losses would be felt for decades.  Not only Magi had died that day, but Werewolves, Shape-shifters and even a handful of Vampires.  No one had walked away unscathed or unaffected in some way.  The only silver lining was that the Source was still firmly in the possession of the Castius Magi; those who would use it to protect life on earth from the savage creatures that constantly tried to cross over from the Etherworld, demons who would wreak havoc on modern civilisation.

Consciously schooling her expression, Gabi turned to make her way to where the rest of the attendees were gathering in a loose circle around a tall, blonde woman.  Gabi winced as she put pressure on her left leg at just the wrong angle, even with a couple of weeks to mend, and even with her super-speed healing, the ligament damage to her knee and the fracture in her ankle had been so severe that both injuries were still stiff and occasionally painful.  She’d shunned using a walking stick today and was beginning to regret it.  Her loose-fitting cream slacks concealed the complex medical braces she wore, and she hoped that her oversize sunglasses hid any expression of pain.  She preferred it if no one knew of her weakness; an injured predator was no more fearsome than its prey, and she could not afford to be seen as prey. Not with the current turmoil eddying through the supernatural world’s underbelly. 

Not for the first time, she missed Julius’s physical presence.  Funerals awoke her need for physical comfort like nothing else did, but very few burials occurred after sunset.  Julius had offered to attend with her, but she’d known what it would cost him, in strength and pain, to be out during daylight.  Even for a Master Vampire it was a considerable feat to achieve, but her Consort could do it.  Yes, despite the fact that she herself was not a Vampire, she was the Vampire equivalent of married to the Vampire equivalent of lower royalty.  While she was not a Vampire, she was a Dhampir: a human with Vampire DNA, the only known living specimen in existence.  That thought brought her yet another level of heartache.  It was her existence that had indirectly brought the Dark Magi to the City and sparked the battle for the Source.

“Not you, my Lea,” Julius’s quiet voice growled into her mind.  “The Dark Magus started this, not you.”  Her instinctive dismissal of his sentiment was countered by the pleasure of sensing him.  Their mental connection had begun as a frail, tenuous thing, but lately it had blossomed into something scarily solid and robust.  The warmth that flooded her mind strengthened her, energised her and soothed her pain, both mental and physical.  The reminder that Mariska, the Dark Magus, was finally in Castius Magi hands also helped a little, though personally she felt that the world would be a better place without the woman in it at all.  But even the heartless Angeli Morte couldn’t have killed a woman who was pregnant.  Despite all the cruelty, death and chaos the woman had caused, her unborn children deserved a chance at life.  What the Magi would do with her after the birth of the babies was unknown to Gabi.  They were keeping that information as close to their chests as they were her exact whereabouts.  Gabi didn’t know whether to be proud or pissed that they didn’t trust her to leave the Maleficus alive.  In fairness to them, she had, at least once, taken matters into her own hands when it came to deciding who died and who spent their days in Magi confinement, so perhaps their wariness was justified.

Athena’s strong but pain-filled voice calling them together broke her reverie and her mental connection with Julius.  It was obvious that the slender blonde Magus was struggling to maintain her normally shatterproof composure.  Her relationship with Irene had been a profound and complex one.  Irene’s illness and subsequent death, as well as all the others, had hit the high-ranking, young Magus hard.  Her clothing hung on her already slender frame, her complexion was pale, and dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes.  But her spine was straight, her shoulders set and her voice clear as she spoke of Irene’s strength and passion, her commitment to the protection of all life on earth and how she’d given her life essence to protect the Source from those who would warp its power to their own ends. 

Then Athena began the rite of passing, the final ceremony to send Irene safely on to the next leg of her journey. 

“We are born of the Earth, and so we return to the Earth,” Athena intoned, a tear running heedlessly down one cheek.  “We belong to the honoured Lord and Lady, and so we return to their loving embrace.  The wheel of life turns, and so too, our lives come full circle.  This farewell is not a final farewell, for the wheel turns eternal and we shall meet again.” 

The gathered crowd echoed her final words and several added their own. 

Gabi was suddenly struck by the contrast of the last funeral she’d attended.  This ceremony was the polar opposite of the short, unheralded one held for the two Dark Elders and one half of Gemini, the Dark Magi twins.  The twin and the Dark Elder who’d called himself Phobos had died that night during the fight for the Source, but the other Dark Elder, Deimos, had been injured but alive at the end.  He’d died just two days before Irene, through no lack of care by the Magi, who’d wanted him to stand trial and admit his wrongdoing.  One of the Healers who’d attended him told Gabi that the man actually seemed to will himself to death.  They were still working on bringing the other twin out of the comatose state he’d fallen into the moment his brother died.  Gabi personally thought they were trying in vain; the two had been so intrinsically linked, to the point that they were like one mind, that there was little chance the living one would have the mental faculties to survive alone.  The trio of bodies in simple wooden caskets had been slid into the crematorium fires with no ceremony and few attendees.  Those that did arrive, like Gabi, were there simply to see with their own eyes that they were truly gone and would no longer pose a threat to the world.  After their cremation, the ashes were blessed and then strewn at sea in the hopes that none of the evil energy within the Dark Magi could find its way back into another living soul.  Gabi personally thought that was overkill, but who was she to argue?

Movement brought Gabi’s attention back to the present.  The sun was just slipping behind the horizon when Athena led the congregation back to the coffin.  They encircled it and, after a moment for last thoughts, four Magi stepped forward in full ceremonial robes, one at each of the major compass points, each representing the four major elements.  One by one they began to chant, stretching their upturned hands towards first the sky and then the coffin. 

“May the fire release your soul.”

“May the water cleanse your sins.”

“May the air carry your spirit gently.”

“May the earth receive you gladly.” 

Then they all spoke together: “May the wheel turn and bring you rebirth.” 

Tiny flames appeared on their palms, a different colour for each element, and they tenderly directed them towards the coffin.  Eagerly the flames surrounded the casket and soon the box was ablaze, awash in brightly coloured flames.  The Magi in the crowd repeated the last sentence of the final rite as the wooden casket, the bunches of flowers and the body within rapidly turned to ash.

CHAPTER 1

A quiet knock came at his office door. 

“Come in,” Julius called, already knowing who was on the other side.  Even if he hadn’t been expecting her, his extra senses had warned him of her arrival long before she raised her hand to knock.  He sent out a tiny thread of power and adjusted the level of the room’s lighting upward, illuminating it brightly enough to keep the atmosphere formal and businesslike.  He made his visitor nervous, despite their working relationship being several weeks old now, and she controlled her nerves best when she could cover them with professionalism.

“Julius,” she greeted him with a polite tilt of her head.  She held a few sheets of printed paper in one hand and an electronic tablet in the other.  Her long, chocolate brown hair was pinned untidily on the top of her head, but she was dressed neatly in dark dress pants and a pale lilac cashmere sweater.  Her eyes were bloodshot and Julius wondered how long she’d been awake.