A
N ALARM WAS SOUNDING IN THE MOUNTAIN KEEP
when Oz, Tutresiel, Alexander, and his new Grim companion arrived. It was not loud, but the chime burned brilliantly in the air and vibrated deep into their bones. No one could ignore it.
“When did Giselle install this?” Alexander asked as they jogged through the corridors.
“While you were gone to California to get Max’s family,” Oz said.
“So she expected another attack. Anybody in particular?”
“We all see the writing on the wall. With the war, food will be getting short. That will bring all sorts of creatures down on us—human and not. Plus, there will be refugees and marauders. We have to be ready.”
The none-too-subtle emphasis on
we
made it clear that Oz did not count Alexander among them. He grinned. Too damned bad for him.
Giselle’s door was wide open when they arrived at her apartment, and they went in without knocking. Xaphan perched on the back of a chair. He nodded as they entered. Beyul ignored everyone and padded up onto a cream-colored couch and sprawled along its length, his black tongue hanging from his mouth as he panted.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t you?” Oz said, eyeing the Grim.
Beyul bared his teeth and growled. It was enough to raise the hairs on Alexander’s arms. “I do not think he likes you,” he told Oz.
“The feeling is mutual.”
Just then, Giselle pushed through a stone door on the left side of the room. It swung on a central pivot, and beyond was her workroom. She carried a book. As she came through, she snapped it shut and tossed it onto a chair.
“We’re in trouble,” she said. “I don’t have anything that tells me how to stop a Fury. I’m open to ideas. Tutresiel? Xaphan? What do you know?”
“Only that Erinyes rise when a woman has been horribly betrayed, and they are capable of great destruction, especially on first rising,” Tutresiel said.
“That much I found in my books,” Giselle said. Magic smoked in her eyes, and threads of it crawled over her hands. Alexander frowned. She needed to take better care of herself.
“What about you, Xaphan?”
The fire angel shrugged, an elegant, liquid movement. “The kind of betrayal that creates a Fury is beyond imagining. There are few of them despite the evil that has been committed against women through millennia. Still, they aren’t deathless, or there would be more of them.”
“How many are there?”
Again the shrug. “No one knows for certain. Legends say there are only three at any given time. But legends lie.”
Giselle nodded. “Yes, they do.” She raised a brow at Alexander. “And you? Do you have anything to add?”
He shook his head. “No.”
She grimaced. “Then it’s time to go talk to Alton.”
“Alton?” Oz repeated.
“Of course,” Alexander said.
A former ally of Giselle’s, Alton had allowed the Guardians to destroy his entire covenstead just to lure Giselle into a trap. She had not fallen for it, so when the Guardians had sent Tutresiel and Xaphan to attack Horngate, Alton had tampered with the shields, killing every one of Horngate’s witches except for Magpie and Giselle, and the latter had nearly died. Giselle had had him drugged and put in one of her underground prison cells until she could decide what to do with him.
“He did something to the shields,” Alexander said. “He bragged about it to me and Max. That spell circle is centered right on the old ward line.” He frowned. “But waking him is dangerous. He is still bound to the Guardians, and they gave him a great deal of power.”
“What choice do we have? I need to know if creating an Erinye was his intent and if he knows how to kill her.”
Oz snorted. “He already killed her once.”
Giselle glared at him. “The irony of asking the witch who betrayed this poor woman to tell me how to kill her again doesn’t escape me. But it’s our best hope at the moment. Unless you have a better idea?”
“No.”
“Then let’s get going. That spell circle isn’t going to hold her long.” She started for the door, then stopped, her gaze snagging on Beyul, who returned the look without blinking. “Is he watching us for her? The Memory?” she asked.
“She said he chose me,” Alexander said. “Whatever that means.”
Her mouth flattened, and then she spun around. “It means you can damned well keep him off my furniture,” she called over her shoulder as she marched out.
Tutresiel and Oz followed. Beyul made a chuffing sound and stepped down. Xaphan fell in beside Alexander. The Grim nosed between them, completely unaffected by the flames brushing against him from Xaphan’s wings.
“That’s . . . unexpected,” the angel said, his brow crimping. “I’ve never encountered anything my flames didn’t burn.”
“Remind me to hide behind him when you get pissed at me,” Alexander said. He had a feeling that Beyul had a lot more surprises in store. He just hoped they were good ones.
Xaphan grinned. “Don’t think a big dog will save you if I decide to barbecue your ass.”
“I’ll volunteer my sword for the skewer,” Tutresiel said.
“I have heard your sword is too small for impaling anything bigger than an ant,” Alexander said. “A very
dull
blade indeed.”
Oz and Xaphan chuckled, and Tutresiel grinned. “Better a dull blade than none at all, as you should know all too well.”
Suddenly, Giselle made an exasperated noise. “I swear, men are such asses. Seriously, if you want, we can drop everything and send for a tape measure. You can all whip your dicks out, and we’ll measure them. Or hell, go outside and have yourselves a good old-fashioned pissing contest. Whatever you do, get it the hell out of your systems, because personally, I’d like to stop messing around and figure out how to save Horngate before the Fury wipes us all off the map. In which case, how big your dicks are isn’t going to make much difference to anyone.”
She did not wait for a reply but turned and strode off, magic wreathing her in black tendrils.
“I guess we know whose is biggest,” Xaphan murmured as they all followed after.
Alexander choked back a laugh, as did Oz and Tutresiel. Giselle glared back at them but said nothing.
They made their way to the western side of the underground fortress. The walls and floor were roughly carved, and there was no attempt at decoration. They entered a loop of barred cells. They were empty, their doors open. Beyond was a wide corridor etched with arcane symbols. Three cells broke off from the end. These were covered in grilles made of woven metals and wood impregnated with wards. Lise stood outside the one on the left.
Oz’s second in command, Lise was five foot nine, with burnished brown hair that fell in waves around her gamine face. She was dressed in a tank top and a pair of loose-fitting jeans, with a Glock strapped to each hip. She paced in front of the door she guarded, her cell phone to her ear, whirling when their small company approached.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “What’s the alarm about?” Her gaze skimmed them, stopping on Beyul. “What the fuck is that?”
“We need to talk to Alton,” Giselle said, ignoring her questions. “Open up.”
Lise’s mouth dropped, then snapped shut. She glanced at Oz and Alexander as if to be sure that she should. Both nodded. She grabbed the door and yanked, her muscles bunching as the massively heavy grillework swung outward, the hinges squeaking.
Inside, the walls, floor, and dome ceilings were thickly inscribed with wards. Etched into the floor was an
anneau
—a triangle within a five-pointed star within a circle. The entire thing glowed with orange light. A thick pile of salt, herbs, and ground metals surrounded the circle, adding to its protections.
In the center of the triangle, the drugged Alton lay bound in witch chain made of silver and spells designed to suppress a witch’s power.
“How do you want to do this?” Oz asked Giselle. “I don’t want you going inside the
anneau
with him,” he added quickly. “It’s too dangerous. We don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“Agreed,” Alexander said.
“I’ve no intention of risking myself,” Giselle said irritatedly. “I’ll break the outer circle and release the
anneau
. You two can go inside, and once I’ve sealed the outer circle again, you can wake him up.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a small brown bottle with an eyedropper lid. “Put three drops on his tongue.”
“And to put him back under?” Alexander asked. “Once you are through with him.”
“I’m not going to. Not right away.”
“You have no idea what powers the Guardians have given him. Will this cell even hold him if he wakes?” Oz demanded.
“It should.”
“That answer doesn’t exactly inspire a lot of confidence,” Lise put in, her arms crossed. “I don’t know what the hell is going on right now, but that bastard killed nineteen witches.”
“I don’t need to inspire confidence. I tell you what to do, and you do it. Right? So let’s get on it.”
Giselle bent, pulling a silver knife from her hip pocket. She drew it from its leather sheath and knelt outside the thick ring of salt, herbs, and metals. She murmured, and magic billowed around her. Snakes of black writhed along the outside of the circle. A burst of it detonated, and a sharp wind blew through the chamber as Giselle plunged her knife through it and scraped away a gap. Without pausing, she touched her fingers to the
anneau,
and magic flared and pulled up into her hand.
She stood. Her cheeks were flushed, and her entire body pulsed with power. “Go to it.”
Oz and Alexander stepped over the ring. Beyul followed with a graceful leap. He went to snuffle at Alton’s prone body. Giselle eyed him acidly. “Can’t you control him at all?” she asked Alexander.
“Not that I have noticed,” he said with a cheeky wink.
She made a frustrated sound and bent to rebuild the outer circle. Again, she murmured, and snakes writhed around the circle. The air inside hummed, and magic washed over Alexander’s skin.
“OK. You’re good. Wake him up.”
Oz knelt beside the witch. He unstoppered the bottle while Alexander pried Alton’s mouth open. The Sunspear squeezed three drops of the reddish liquid onto the witch’s tongue. Alexander dropped his head. They waited.
It was nearly five minutes before Alton twitched and his eyes sprang open. Alexander recoiled. They were a golden yellow. Last time he had seen Alton, just before he had been locked up, they had been a dull blue.
“Where am I?” He lifted his head, taking in the cell, the witch chain, Alexander, Oz, and Lise. His eyes widened on the two angels. When he saw Giselle, his face flushed red. “You bitch,” he seethed through clenched teeth.
“Welcome back to the land of the living, Alton.”
He struggled, but his bindings held him. His face grew haughty. “How long have I been here? What’s been happening?”
She smiled coldly. “Your plan failed.”
“Don’t count me out yet.”
“Oh, I think you’re done. But I’m here for answers. Whom did you sacrifice when you tampered with the shields?”
He settled back against the floor, no longer looking at her. “Why do you want to know?”
“Sit him up,” she snapped at Oz.
He grabbed Alton’s collar and yanked him up. The witch coughed raggedly and spat at him. Oz dodged easily and slapped the back of Alton’s head. “Mind your manners.”
“Whom did you sacrifice?” Giselle demanded again.
“Let me think . . .” He glowered defiantly at her. “Sorry. I can’t remember.”
Giselle shrugged. “Suit yourself. Perhaps you’ll remember when you get hungry enough. Or thirsty. Come, Alexander and Oz. Let us leave him to his misery. We’ll check him in a week or so and see how he’s getting along.”
She released the magic of the outer circle and waved them through, then engaged the circle again. Alton made furious noises as he strained against the witch chain, twisting from side to side and bumping over the floor. At last, he stopped.
“You can’t hold me. I am far stronger than you think.”
“You seem to be pretty stuck for the moment,” Giselle said with an exaggerated yawn. “You’ll excuse me. I think it’s time for breakfast. I’m starving. I think I’ll have bacon and an omelet. Maybe a cinnamon roll. Oh, and coffee. A whole pot of it with cream. Maybe there will be raspberries. What do you think, Oz?”
“No raspberries, I’m afraid,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “But there are blackberries and a few huckleberries. They would be delicious on pancakes.”
Alton made a low moaning sound that cut off abruptly. “You bitch. I will have you groveling at my feet yet.”
Giselle whirled, her cheeks spotted red. “I’m a bitch? You ball-less coward. You were my
friend
. My ally. You let them slaughter your entire covenstead just so you could curry favor with the Guardians and steal Horngate from me. And what about Cora? Where is she now? The Guardians have unleashed hell on earth, and your daughter is—”
She broke off, her face going white as alabaster. She pressed a hand to her mouth and sank boneless to the floor before anyone could catch her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Oh, damn. Damn you. Tell me you didn’t. Tell me it wasn’t your daughter in that charm circle.”
Alexander felt the blood drain from his own face, his stomach twisting in revulsion. He turned woodenly to see Alton’s reaction. The captive witch’s face was utterly still. Slowly, life crept back into it. The animation was sickening, as if he had suddenly drunk from the fountain of youth. His eyes sparkled, and his lips seemed to grow red and full. He sat straight, one eyebrow rising in an expression of disdain.
“Yes. My daughter returned to me the life I loaned her. She served me well.”
Giselle choked. “
Served
you? She was your
daughter
. You were supposed to protect her. You’re a fucking monster!”
Her magic was spinning around her like a whirlwind of jagged black glass. The air turned thick, and it hurt to breathe. Alexander stood just beyond the thickening magic tornado. Was she losing control? If so, he had to shut her down. But how?
The chamber suddenly echoed with the sound of Alton’s laughter. “Such a dramatic show, Giselle. But isn’t that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black? You’re a cold-blooded killer, no different from me. You are just as ruthless, just as brutal. You would have done the same, if you had the same rich payout promised to you.”