Moonlight(Pact Arcanum 3) (3 page)

“Shouldn’t there be three other Winds?”

“Ana felt the mantle of the Wind of Fire fade a few months ago. The new Wind of Fire is awake and out there, somewhere, but we don’t have a clue who that person is, and he or she hasn’t contacted us. The Wind of Fire will also be drawn to the nascent Winds, so it remains a mystery how the strongest spellcaster of this generation will react to meeting Andrea. There’s no guarantee they will be allies. I suggest you find a way to keep her in the country.”

Daniels stood from his chair and glared at Nick. “I will do no such thing. She has her life to lead without your damn war taking center stage. She doesn’t need this on top of everything else she has to deal with.”

“She doesn’t have a choice, Kevin,” Nick said patiently. “No more than any Sentinel has had a choice since Narissa signed away their free will back in the First Age. Sooner or later, she’ll open her eyes and see the world that waits for her.”

“No!” yelled Daniels, slamming his fist on the desk. “I forbid it!”

“It’s not up to you, Mr. President,” Nick answered, with more of an edge to his voice. “This is her destiny, and there’s no escaping it.”

“Like hell. Don’t you dare go filling her head with that bullshit, you understand me?”

Nick sighed. “Kevin, I went through the same thing with my brother. You can’t protect her from this. Unless you’re willing to lock her up in the Armistice Zone for the rest of her life, there’s nothing you can do to keep her from this path.”

“Find another solution,” Daniels said. “One that lets me give her the space she needs right now without piling on this load of crap.”

Nick considered his options.
Careful. Just enough pressure to get him to agree. Push him too hard and he’ll turn on you.
“If you’re not willing to keep her here, then obviously we can’t tell the Court that she exists or every Nightwalker in England will be gunning for her,” he said, choosing his words with deliberate care. “There’s no target more prime than a latent Wind. They’ll do anything to stop her from coming into her own. Lorcan won’t be able to save her, and his authority would crumble if he even tried.”

Daniels gritted his teeth. “So what do you suggest?”

“We augment her protection detail with undercover Armistice Security agents.”

Daniels shook his head. “The Secret Service is a closely knit group, Nick. There’s no way I could sneak a group of outsiders into their midst without someone catching on and investigating.”

“That’s why you’re not going to do it covertly at all. I’ve discussed this with Takeshi, and he’s willing to assign Jack Anderson to be her bodyguard, on furlough from Armistice Security. He used to be Secret Service before his Gift kindled, so we’ll just say that he’s had a change of heart and wants to go back to his old job.”

“One bodyguard isn’t enough to hold off the entire Court of Shadows.”

Nick shrugged, affecting nonchalance. “A full detail of Sentinels would attract too much attention, and no one wants that. One bodyguard will cause a stir, but it might slip under the Court’s radar.”
Hook.
He leaned forward and braced his hands against the desk. “Andrea and Toby made a connection at the wake. I’ve asked him to drop in on her periodically, as well, with an eye toward an extended visit. He can lay some protective magic on her and maintain those wards indefinitely, so long as he keeps renewing them every so often.”
Line.
His eyes shaded toward red. “Of course, this would all be moot if you decided to be honest with her.”
Sinker.

“Don’t tell me how to raise my daughter, Nicholas,” the President said, white-lipped with anger.

Nick growled in a barely audible rumble.
Caught. Now reel him in.
“She’s not just your daughter anymore, Mr. President. She’s a future general of the entire Sentinel race, a voice that will someday wield more power and influence than any human can fully comprehend. We’re placing her at risk by keeping her in the dark, and that decision will have consequences.”

Marina District, San Francisco, California

Toby woke to the smell of bacon frying. He focused his eyes on the bedside clock.
Seven a.m. What the hell? Did Mom make a surprise visit? I’ll have to make sure Layla doesn’t come by today.
So far, he’d managed to keep the two of them apart, but eventually he’d have to let his mother in on who he was dating.
Then we’ll see some fireworks, once she realizes she won’t be getting a grandchild from this son, either.

Toby climbed out of bed, pulled a pair of track pants and a T-shirt out of a drawer, and dressed hurriedly. “Strings,” he said softly, “where is Layla right now?”

“I believe she’s down the hall and to the right, Tobias.”

Toby froze. Then he cautiously walked out of his bedroom and made his way down the hall to the breakfast nook next to the kitchen. He stared at the bizarre sight in front of him: Layla Magister Curallorn, called Nemesis, the Prince of Wrath, the Triumvirate Council Speaker for the Dawn, standing in his kitchen, wearing a formal white silk evening gown, and making pancakes.

“Good morning, Tobias,” she said without turning. “Have a seat. This will be done in a second.”

Toby shuffled into the room and sat at the small table in the corner. “Since when can you cook?”

Layla lifted a pancake out of the pan with a spatula and placed it on a plate with a stack of others. Then she turned off the stove and put the plate on a serving tray already laden with orange juice, coffee, and bacon. She picked up the tray with one hand and laid it on the table in front of Toby. “I learned to cook from my mother when I was mortal, although the components of a meal in that time were quite different. My people were seafarers, so we tended toward the bounty of the ocean.” She sat across the table from him, looking at him expectantly. “It was not so difficult to adapt those skills to modern practices, but I seldom cook for other than myself since I entered the third life.”

Toby hesitantly picked up a strip of bacon. Carefully, he bit off a piece and chewed it, not taking his eyes off his lover. He swallowed and put the bacon down. “It’s good, Layla. Thank you.”

“You are welcome, Tobias,” she said with smile. “Happy birthday.”

Toby took another bite of bacon while he looked over the tray. “There’s plenty here. Would you like to join me?”

“I have already fed this morning, but I would be pleased to watch you enjoy the meal.”

Toby nodded and helped himself to the pancakes. “I appreciate the gesture.”

“But you are wondering if there is a catch to it.” She smiled again. “A reasonable suspicion, I will admit.”

Toby sipped at the coffee. Hazelnut dark roast—my favorite, just like the pancakes and bacon. She certainly did her homework this time. Nick must have told her, because the two of us never really lingered over breakfast together. Sure, the sex was fantastic, but neither of them was that emotionally invested in the relationship. At least, he didn’t think so. “I wouldn’t call it a suspicion. I’m just surprised. I never pegged you for the domestic type.”

Her eyes flashed red for a second, and she scowled. “And that was very wise, Tobias.”

Toby gulped down a sip of coffee, too fast, and burned his tongue. He set the mug down on the tray and tried to salvage the moment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. It’s just a side of you that I never expected to see.”

She snorted in amusement. “Perhaps you never will again.”

Toby picked up a knife and fork and cut into the stack of pancakes. He took a bite and regarded her thoughtfully. “That’s a shame. You’re a good cook, from what I can taste.”

She said nothing, just watched him finish the meal. “I have another gift for you, if you’re ready.”

Toby swallowed the last of the orange juice. “You didn’t need to get me anything, Layla.”

She picked up a small, flat jewelry box he hadn’t noticed from the kitchen counter and slid it across the table toward him.

Toby opened the box, finding a crucifix made of filigreed white and yellow gold. “Wow. It’s beautiful.”

She lifted the box from his hands and gently removed the cross, dangling from a thick gold chain. “Let me put it on you.”

Toby sat still while she stood and walked behind him, drawing the chain tight so that the cross hung just below the hollow of his neck. As she fastened it in place, he felt a whisper of magic, just for an instant, and then it was gone. His head snapped around to see her watching him with an unreadable expression. “What did you just do?” he demanded, his tone sharpening.

“Nothing that should cause you any distress, I assure you.” She stepped back to her seat. “Just a small spell to activate the charm.”

Toby lifted the cross away from his chest enough so he could focus his senses on it.
Holy crap.
It was so densely layered with magic that he couldn’t separate out the spellforms. “What the hell is it?”

She sat down across from him. “It is the strongest amulet of protection that I possess. I want you to come back from this assignment in one piece.”

The Fire Sentinel scowled, studying the shape of the spells he could make out. “This is Sentinel magic, worked at a higher level than I’ve ever seen. A Wind of Fire made this, and it’s certainly not Anaba’s signature. Where did you get it?”

She sighed at his harsh tone. “Does it really matter? I just want you to be safe.”

Toby angrily reached across the table and grabbed her wrists. “Tell me where it came from, Layla.”

She growled at him, her eyes blazing red. “You will release my hands. Now.”

Toby held on with an iron grip, his strength enhanced by his Gift. “Not until you tell me what I want to know.”

Layla twisted her wrists suddenly, breaking his hold, and slapped his face hard enough to make his ears ring. As his head snapped around from the blow, she stood from her chair and glared down at him. “If you
must
know, I took it off one of my enemies. Antonio Martinez was his name, the Wind of Fire of the generation prior to yours. It made him a difficult man to capture.”

Toby scowled at her as he massaged his throbbing cheek. “You fucking bitch. Is this the same Antonio Martinez that you forced to betray Rory and then killed when he was of no further use to you?”

Layla hissed at him, her fangs showing. She contained her anger with obvious difficulty and just barely resisted lashing out at him again. “Spare me your sanctimony, Tobias. I acquired a powerful artifact made by a master spellcaster. Should I have wasted his skill and allowed it to be buried with him?”

Toby shot to his feet. “You wasted his skill when you stopped his damn heart!” He clawed at the gold chain, but it resisted his efforts to break it.

“Don’t bother,” she said spitefully. “I made the chain myself. It won’t come off, and the links won’t break. You will be quite well protected until the day you die, although I find it difficult to remember why I bothered.”

“And I’m just supposed take this lying down?” he shouted. “What else did you charm into this thing?”

“How dare you?” she said, practically spitting in rage. “I wanted something to keep you safe while you travel in Court territory to protect this fool child. The Winds have always been targets. If Nicholas is stupid enough to risk your life for her sake, then surely I have the right to give you a fighting chance!”

“Bullshit. You’re just trying to fucking control me,” Toby said hotly. “If you had even a shred of empathy, you wouldn’t have had to trick me into putting it on.”

She lifted her hand to slap him again, but he dodged and raised his mystical defenses as he began casting a spell. She raised her defenses, as well, and then attacked.

Twenty minutes later, they both stood seething in the remains of the apartment’s living room. Destroyed furniture and pulverized plaster from the damaged interior walls littered the floor. The security system had activated automatically when combat magic was detected, and the green defense field reinforcing the perimeter walls was the only thing that had prevented the fight from spilling over into the neighboring apartments.

“No one offers me insult and walks away, Tobias Primogenitor Luscian,” she said in a cold voice.

“Well, you know where to find me.” He crossed his arms. “Just let me know when you want to do this again.”

She glared at him, gathered her will, and then teleported away.

Toby sagged on his feet and looked wearily around at his devastated home.
Crap. It’s lucky we were both holding back, or we might have brought the building down.
“Strings,” he said, “please ask my brother if he wouldn’t mind a houseguest. This is going to take a while to clean up.”

FIRE AND WRATH

CHAPTER 3

The White House, Washington, D.C.; One week later

Alexander Collins, the Vice President of the United States, marched into Kevin Daniels’ private office after a perfunctory knock. He was short but powerfully built, and his arrogant bearing made him seem like a lion dressed in a gray suit. Daniels looked up at the intrusion and frowned. They had been allies on the ticket in the beginning, but their interests had diverged after Los Angeles, when the supernatural world had exploded into the light. He had no doubt that Collins was somehow involved with the movement to delegitimize the Armistice, that the preparations would have required the support of one of the moderators of the Senate, but he didn’t have enough evidence to actually make an accusation.