Shadow City (23 page)

Alexander nodded and looked at Thor. “Anything you want to add?”

His friend grimaced. “Tyler about covered it, boss,” he drawled. “ ’Cept to say that I expected more of you. You’re old enough to know better.”

Alexander winced. That hurt. Thor was his oldest friend in the world besides Valery, and he did not like disappointing either of them. “You are both right,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face and then straightening. “I have learned my lesson. I will not fail you again.” Or Max.

He stretched out a hand to Tyler. The other Blade looked at it and then gripped it solidly. “I’ll hold you to it.”

“Do that.”

He put his hand out to Thor and found himself pulled into a bear hug. Thor pounded his back with his fist. “You mother-loving bastard. I swear, I’ll kill you if you ever do that to me again.”

Alexander grinned, but the grin faded as he looked again at Tyler and read the raw pain and loss in his eyes. “She is alive,” he said. “I refuse to accept anything else.”

Tyler stiffened and nodded.

“I had better go make sure Giselle and Holt have not killed each other. The two of you check on Niko and get some food. Make sure he eats, too.”

Alexander’s new senses told him exactly where Giselle and Holt were. If Tyler was a fiery spirit and Thor was a wild blue storm, Giselle was a tightly knotted mass of forest green. Holt was shining brown, like tiger-eye. There were others with them. Xaphan—he was a clear blue flame around a core of the same cold black as Tutresiel’s sword.

His senses spread through the fortress. He could sense everyone, each with his or her own spirit signature color and blend, each with a spirit scent. He pressed out further. The Fury was pressing harder against the ward circle. The Memory was a splinter of green—heartbreakingly brilliant. The pack of Grims were like Beyul—the clear rushing water of an ancient river. But despite their sameness, he could sense differences among them. Eddies, currents, and ripples. They were as different from one another as snowflakes.

He split from Tyler and Thor and threaded his way down toward Giselle’s apartments. He was not surprised when Valery stepped out of the shadows to meet him. He was not sure he would ever be surprised by anyone again.

“Are you really all right?” she asked. Her voice shook slightly, and she cleared her throat. “You’ve changed.”

He nodded. “I have. My Prime and I—” How could he describe it? “It was like the Prime and I were separate and now we are united.”

“What does that mean? Are you still you? Are you going to go rabid again?”

He shrugged. “I do not think so. I feel like me. I am just . . . more than I used to be.”

“More?” She frowned.

“I have stronger senses. I have no idea what else.”

She nodded, still scrutinizing him. Then she abruptly switched topics. “I’m sorry about Max.”

The words knocked the breath out of him. The explosion of emotions inside him cut like shrapnel. He swallowed them down.
Faith
. He had to have faith.

“She will come back,” he said.

Pity washed over Valery’s face, but she only nodded. “She will.” She clearly did not believe it.

“I have to see Giselle,” Alexander said. He walked away, his body stiff and jerky.

He had collected himself by the time he came to Giselle’s quarters. The door was ajar, and he went inside without knocking, Valery right behind.

Inside he found Giselle, Holt, Xaphan, Tutresiel, Oz, and the six witches who made up the rest of the coven. It was clearly a war council.

Giselle sat in a chair while the others ranged around her. She looked vibrant and healthy. Her face was flushed, and her body looked rounded and curved, as if she’d gained twenty pounds. She had more than survived the earlier backlash—she had flourished from the tide of returning magic.

Holt sprawled in a chair opposite. He looked sleepy-eyed, his fingers tenting together. Xaphan perched on the back of a chair in his typical eagle-like pose. Tutresiel leaned against the wall, and Oz stood beside Giselle with his arms folded. Despite his relatively calm exterior, Oz was enraged. The power of his Prime pulsed in the room. The witches sat in a small circle around Giselle, like children at story time. In the middle was a table with large sheets of paper covered in black pencil drawings.

Everyone looked up as Alexander and Valery entered. Holt gripped the arms of his chair, his gaze locked on his ex. He looked like he wanted to grab her and drag her off somewhere in chains. Which Alexander had no doubt was exactly what Holt wanted to do. Much as he disliked the mage, he could not really blame him. At the moment, he would like to do the same with Max. If only he knew where she was. If—

No
.
Faith
.

“So, you’re back,” Giselle said, one eyebrow rising in delicate contempt. “Do I need to chain you up somewhere?”

Her voice was cold and hard. He recognized it. Max did the same thing when she was hurting. She withdrew behind a wall of ice and did not let herself feel anything.

“I am fine,” he said.

She examined him from head to foot, one finger tapping against her lips. At last, she nodded. “While you were out howling at the moon, the rest of us have been trying to figure out a plan to handle the Fury,” she told him. “Holt has an idea. It might work.”

She did not sound convinced. Alexander could almost hear Oz grinding his teeth, but the Sunspear Prime made no arguments as Giselle sat forward and outlined the plan.

The first step was to create a second ward circle around the one containing the Fury. Inside it would go Alton, the author of this mess. There was no one in the room who looked like they even remotely pitied his fate.

“We’ll have to remove the witch chains,” Giselle said. “They might get in the way of the Fury’s vengeance, and we don’t want to make her angrier than she already is.” She studiously did not use the girl’s real name—Cora. But her eyes were haunted when she spoke. “Taking off the chains means he’s going to have a lot of power. Our circle has to be very, very strong.” She looked at Holt.

“It’ll be strong enough to hold the likes of him,” he said arrogantly.

“You don’t know
what
he is,” Giselle pointed out. “The Guardians have gifted him with a great deal of magic.”

“It will hold,” he insisted. “You can rely on it.”

“We have to,” she said sourly before moving on. “We’ll set up a secondary circle around our first one. This one will be made of three succeeding layers. On the inside, we’ll have a salt and herb circle. The second will be stone and blood and a chain of hex marks. The third will be iron—a lot of it. None of them will likely hold her. But together they’ll hopefully slow her down and drain her enough so that she can be reasoned with. When we’re all ready, we’ll break the circle Alton made to hold her and let her at him.”

“Furies by nature are not reasonable,” Alexander said with a frown. “They are female rage, betrayal, and vengeance embodied.”

“We’ll have fed her justice in the shape of Alton. That may calm her. And possibly, she won’t have entirely forgotten who she once was. I may be able to talk to her.”

He shook his head. “It is too risky. There is no reason to think she will not be insane. You cannot go near her.”

“Exactly,” Oz chimed in. “It’s suicidal.”

Giselle’s jaw tightened, and she took a slow breath and blew it out. “We don’t have a choice. She knows me. Yeah, I know she knows you, too, Oz, but no man is going to be able to talk to her. That would set her off as sure as pulling the pin on a grenade. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

“How do you plan to protect yourself?” Alexander asked. He was not going to argue about it until he heard the full plan.

“She isn’t,” Oz said flatly. “She wants all of the Blades and Spears to hang back, especially the men. She doesn’t even want Holt close by. Or the angels. Just Magpie and Judith.”

Now Alexander knew why Oz was so angry and why his Prime was on the killing edge. He held his own down hard but felt the protective fury leaking through his grip. Giselle was the heart of Horngate. Oz was driven by his compulsion spells to keep her safe. The pain had to be excruciating. Alexander was not bound in the same manner, but he knew what Max would want, and the drive to fulfill her wishes spurred him as hard as any compulsion spell Giselle could have inflicted on him.

The group of witches sank into themselves beneath the onslaught of the Prime power—all except Magpie and Giselle, who simply looked irritated. Maggie, new to her power and scared of it, made a whimpering sound and leaned against Max’s brother, Kyle. He started in surprise and put his arm around her.

“No,” Alexander said. “We should evacuate. Tutresiel and Xaphan can fly Giselle and the other witches far enough away for safety. Everyone else can drive. Start now.”

“And leave every soul within hundreds of miles to die?” Giselle shook her head adamantly. “Forget it. I chose this territory. Whether or not the people here know what this covenstead stands for, I won’t let them suffer if I can stop this. What’s the point of Horngate if all we do is run away from danger?”

Which is exactly what Max would say. And Alexander would point out that Horngate had been nearly decimated and was not strong enough to handle a Fury. And then she would say, “So what?” And that would be the end of it. Because Max never would let the innocent suffer when she could help. Or die trying.

Alexander exchanged a look with Oz. He was thinking the same thing. The Sunspear’s mouth twisted, and he gave a tiny nod.

“If you are going to do this, then you have to have protection,” he declared flatly. “Otherwise, I will haul you out of here myself.”

“Think you can, Slick?”

“Try to stop me,” he said, teeth grating together as she used Max’s nickname for him.

“Push me, and I will.”

“Then you might have a problem.”

“How so?”

He smiled. “Even though I would tell her to stay out of it, Valery would not take kindly to anything you might do to me. She would challenge you. You might not win. But even if you could beat her, you would never get the chance. Holt hates my guts, but he is obsessed with my sister, and so you would have to face not just me and her but him, too. I do not think you could beat the three of us.”

That made her think. Giselle glanced at Valery and then at Holt, and what she read on their faces convinced her. Her sour expression almost made up for her calling him “Slick.”

She folded her arms. “What do you have in mind?”

“Use us. Put the angels, Blades, and Spears in another protection circle. We can withstand a lot. We certainly will add to her exhaustion. Then make your stand with Holt and the rest of the coven.”

“You want to be cannon fodder? The Fury will slaughter you.” There was something in the way she emphasized the last word that told him she was thinking of Max, of keeping him safe for her. Bleak humor almost made him smile. Giselle was holding on to her faith in Max, too.

“Then we die. This is what we were made for.”

“You aren’t even bound to Horngate.”

He went so still that it felt like his heart stopped pumping. Oz tensed behind Giselle as violence filled the room. “Fuck. You.”

He wanted to leave, to turn his back on her and go hit something. Destroy something. Shred metal with his bare hands. But he stood there, his jaw thrust out, refusing to back down. He belonged here, and he did not give a fuck if she disagreed.

Her lip curled, and she taunted him. “Maybe you won’t even get to come to the party, Slick. Maybe we’ll do this in full sunlight.
My
party, remember?”

Magic swirled in her eyes like black whirlpools, and her hair drifted on an invisible current. The room crackled with power. Holt watched her, fascinated.

“No,” Alexander said, stepping forward. When Oz started to intercept him, Alexander pinned him in place with a single look. The circle of witches scooted apart, and he stopped in front of her. “This is not just your party. You may hold Horngate’s
anneau,
but
we
hold you. This is our home, and you are
our
witch. If you are going to do this, you will do it at sundown. The Spears will suffer from the night, but that is the price they pay. Better that than any of us sitting on the sidelines while you go to battle.”

Giselle stared a moment, then gave in. “And if she breaks her containment barrier before sundown?”

“Make sure she does not.”

“I can do that,” Valery said. “And I can help with the rest.”

“No,” Holt said, rising to his feet. “You’re going to get the hell out of here. It’s too dangerous. And before you go protesting, know this: I won’t help as long as you’re here. They need me more than you, so you can get your ass on the road.”

Valery stiffened and glared at her ex-husband. But he held all the cards. Finally, she nodded. “I’ll leave. But first, I’ll set up a strengthening spell around the containment circle. It won’t take me long, and none of you needs to waste your strength on it.”

Reluctantly, Holt nodded. “If anything happens, if she starts to break out before you finish, I want you to ride the smoke out of here. Promise me.”

“Forget it. I don’t make promises,” she said. “Not to you.”

His face twisted, and his fingers curled like he wanted to strangle her. Alexander grinned. He knew that feeling. He had felt it often enough with Max and sometimes with Valery, too. But there was nothing Holt could do.

The mage glared at him. “Let’s get it over with, then.” He started for the door.

Valery put her hand on Alexander’s arm. “I’ll be back to say good-bye.” Then she followed Holt out.

Alexander watched her go. He could not argue with Holt over her leaving. He was almost glad that Max was not here for this. But he had a feeling that she would be safer at Horngate with a Fury than wherever she was with Scooter.

He thrust the thought away and turned to the diagrams on the table. “All right. Let us figure this thing out so that everyone is still standing when it is over.”