Arcane Magic (Stella Mayweather Series) (2 page)

Closing my eyes, I focused on the neat porch of my home, inherited from the parents I didn't remember. I visualised the white rails, the steps leading up to my house, the uncanny sense of belonging that I felt there, concentrating harder until I felt the magic flooding me.

~

A half hour later, both feet landed on my porch, and my hands had barely stopped shaking from the incredible relief and jubilance I felt after shimmering from one continent to another.

I pulled into the parking lot of Westside Memorial. After three laps around, I nosed the car into a space just as the sky opened and fat drops of rain began to splash onto the asphalt.

"Welcome home. Brought the English weather with me," I muttered as I climbed out and tugged my hood over my head. Smoothing my hair down, I reached back to grab my bag, the one thing I thought to bring with me. In my haste to try my new skills and get to Annalise, it never occurred to me to grab my luggage. I would have to consult with Anders on whether he could ship my case, and I cringed, knowing he'd have to pack my underwear. I wondered whether a spell could transport my things such a vast distance.

The parking lot was abuzz with people; staff finishing up their shifts and heading home, and a middle-aged couple, crying and clinging to each other. I averted my eyes to give them their privacy in the wide-open space, and stepped through the automatic sliding doors, searching for the sign that would take me to Annalise.

I found Gage pacing on the third floor, hands thrust into his pockets, head bowed, the collar of his shirt slightly askew. On a chair nearby, his leather jacket was folded over a backpack. A cold cup of coffee was abandoned on the low table beside it. Looking pale and strained, he started as I approached, then his eyes lit up, and he smiled warmly. "Stella?"

"In the flesh."

"But how...?"

"Zippity zap!" I quipped, adding jazz hands for heightened effect.

It was the first time I'd ever seen Gage so stunned. His jaw dropped slightly, his eyes widened, and his brows knit together in surprise. "Stella Mayweather, you have got to be kidding me!" he drawled as the welcoming smile turned into one of surprise, illuminating his whole face.

"Not one bit."

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, dragging the words out as he reached for me. He enveloped me in a warm hug before drawing back, and looking down at me. "You're wet. Did you...?"

I batted his arm affectionately. "It just started raining." I smoothed a damp strand of hair behind my ear and shrugged off my jacket. "Where's Annalise? What's the news? Is she okay?"

"In theatre. The baby's heartbeat dropped and they're doing a cesarean. Beau is with her." Gage slumped into the chair beside the one on which his backpack and jacket lay. I took the free chair the other side of him, and waited as he rubbed a hand over his forehead and through his thick hair, waving it into place. He had a few days of stubble, and as usual, I caught his earthy scent. "I haven't heard anything since I called you. I just checked at the nurses' station and they don't know anything yet either."

I folded my hand over his, where it lay on the armrest, and gave it a quick squeeze. "I'll wait with you."

"Thanks, Stella. Appreciate it. I've been going out of my mind." His hand was palm up and his fingers curled around mine as we sat there, waiting without talking, neither of us wanting to voice our fear, or offer meaningless platitudes. Time seemed to stand still as we watched the medical staff move past us, their heads bowed, and clipboards carried close to their chests. Patients shuffled to and fro as relatives arrived and left. Every so often, I checked the big clock over the nurses' station and drew a hard breath. I kept reminding myself that however difficult it was to wait patiently, that was all I had to do. At least, now I was close by. Again, it hit me just how much magic it required to bring me here, but now, I realised I barely felt tired. It should have taken much more from me than that. Perhaps it was from the adrenaline rush.

"I hate this," said Gage, dropping my hand and rising abruptly, stepping back just in time to narrowly avoid walking into a cart pushed by an orderly. "She's my only family, Stell. Without Annalise, I have nothing. Shit, that's selfish." He turned away, moving a few paces before coming back and restlessly dropping into the chair again. "I shouldn't be thinking about me when she's somewhere in here, probably scared out of her mind, trying to deliver that baby."

"I can try and send feelers out if you like? Just to get a sense of how she is?"

"Could you? Please."

"Of course." I straightened my back and folded my drying jacket over my hands. Instead of closing my eyes, I picked a spot on the floor and stared at it, concentrating as I opened myself and let a single stream of magic flow from me. I followed its wake as it began to travel through walls, and into rooms I could not see. I couldn't pick up any clues on what was occurring in the spaces around me, but I didn't want to. My magic was programmed to search out Annalise only.

I knew the instant I found her. I could feel her calm, marred slightly by the drugs being pumped through her veins, mixed in with a pinch of panic and hazy disorientation. She absolutely believed that she, her baby, and Beau were all going to be just fine. She clung so hard onto those beliefs that it was beginning to strain her, but I felt it was because she didn't want Beau to worry. I got the sense that he looked exceptionally grim, but was holding her hand. I pulled my magic from her and sent it around the room, only mildly ashamed that I was invading their privacy. I justified it, thinking I wouldn't mind if they did the same for me.

I sensed the presence of medical staff in the room, and traveled quickly from each person to the next, noting that none of them seemed particularly panicky. However, it did surprise me that I noted a witch in the room, a woman. My magic beelined from her before I could get a handle on it. I briefly felt her surprise before she rebuffed it. After a moment or two, her magic prodded back, not forcefully, but more friendly in gesture.

I concentrated hard and sent a telepathic message towards her, hoping it would reach her, and that she would interpret it correctly from a friend, asking if Annalise was okay. A moment later, I got a resounding
yes
in return, and the assurance that the baby would be born very soon.

"She's fine," I told Gage, when I severed the connection. "They aren't unduly worried and the baby is going to born very soon."

"You got all that just from sending out your feelers, using your magic?" he asked in a hushed voice as two nurses hurried past us.

"Just general impressions, but one of the nurses is a witch, so I asked her."

Gage nodded like our conversation was perfectly ordinary, although I noticed he looked marginally less strained with the good news. It struck me yet again how much my life had changed. Once, I'd been a scared, young woman with uncontrollable power and no knowledge at all of the magic that ran in the world alongside the “normal” one. Now, here I was, a witch with power, conversing with a powerful werewolf about magic in the most matter of fact way. Life was strange and beautiful. Sometimes, as now, it carried the fleeting, stabbing pain of missing Evan, which also hit me very hard. Would I ever have a family of my own, I wondered.

We waited a while longer silently, the hands of the wall clock seeming to slow down, or maybe that was because I kept checking the time every thirty seconds. Just as I finished replying to a worried text message from Daniel, telling him I was fine and not in the sea, a man halted in front of us, his ill-fitted green scrubs swamping his legs. I looked up, expecting a doctor, but instead, found Beau. Stubble sprouted from his chin, and his eyes were bloodshot while his face seemed very pale. I sprang to my feet at the same time as Gage. Gage gulped, and with a stiff jaw, hoarsely asked, "Is she okay?"

"Yes." Beau heaved a breath, his face splitting into a grin as he looked from Gage to me. "Annalise is fine. We got a girl. We got a baby girl!"

Chapter Two

Since my early return to the sleepy, little town of Wilding, whose population was comprised mostly of werewolves, (and proud of it, too) I knew it would only be a matter of time before my friend, employer, and currently elected head of the Witch Council, Étoile Winterstorm, got in touch.

As it was, she resisted calling until the morning after Annalise's baby was born. For me, that was a good thing. After seeing the baby, I followed Gage home, declined his offer of dinner, and barely made it to my bed before falling into it, exhausted. That day, I rose at dawn, confused by my body clock as I rummaged through the kitchen for enough food to make breakfast. Since my early rise, I'd been taking it easy, holding off calling
Étoile because I still had another two weeks vacation due me, no matter where in the world I was. In England, Daniel, Anders, and I had plans. The problem was: what would I do with my free time now?

"You're home?" Étoile started without preamble the minute I answered the phone. She sounded wary, as if she were expecting trouble.

"Annalise had her baby. I got back just in time. You should see her. So tiny!" I gushed, still enthralled by the miniscule, perfect, pink fingers that flexed around my own.

The audible squawk of excitement indicated that Étoile hadn't heard the news yet. Pressing the phone to my ear, I filled her in on the latest: the number of fingers and toes, as well as the emergency cesarean. Mostly, Étoile wanted to know about my unorthodox travel arrangements, expressing her unmasked pleasure at my skill and accomplishment.

"And what about a name?" she asked when I finished answering her probing questions on my prowess.

"They're not saying until the naming ceremony at the next full moon."

I heard a scrabbling of paper and imagined Étoile poising her pen over the old school, leather-covered diary she preferred to my choice of booking appointments, in my phone's calendar. "I'll be there," she said. "That is, assuming I'm invited and no one has to get naked." She muttered something about werewolf rituals and heaved a tiny sigh, adding it wasn't like "civilised" witch business.

"Not that anyone mentioned nakedness, but I'm out of there if that happens," I agreed.

"I call shotgun."

"And I call bull on witch business being civilised. Remember your election?" I reminded her. That was anything but an easy victory, and several months down the line, Étoile was about to create ructions again.

"Fun times," sighed Étoile. Amidst the murders, and my arrest and trial, it had been anything but. "How was England? Did you have enough tea?" she teased.

"Quiet, and yes, thank you. Anders' network is still looking for Auberon Morgan and the witch hunters, but so far, nothing. Wherever they are, they’ve managed to stay undiscovered and haven't returned to Hawkscroft."

"We both know they probably left England after the fire."

I nodded in agreement, then remembered Étoile couldn't see me. "They could be anywhere in Europe."

"Or here."

I paused at the matter of fact tone in Étoile's voice. The possibility that the witch hunters could be hiding on these shores was, of course, something I considered. Auberon Morgan was a wealthy man in his own right, although we long suspected that the witch hunter posse he led was supported by powerful people. We had yet to discover whom, however, or how far their influence spread. Whoever they were, they covered their tracks quite well. It was impossible to ignore that the witch hunters had long escaped prosecution, despite admitting responsibility for a string of brutal murders. Their public revelation regarding magic, murders, and witch hunting was still the subject of discussions now, though the initial hysteria had ceased. Conspiracy theories still abounded, and it was part of my job for the Witch Council to monitor the various web forums to learn who was fueling the fires. It was possible witch hunters were inciting the general populace, not only to accept magic, but also to use it against us. The Council had worried for some time what would happen if our world were exposed; and I couldn't help thinking we were on the brink. "Is there something I don't know?" I asked, just in case.

"There was a reported sighting of Morgan crossing into Canada."

I frowned. I didn't see that; and the system I set up should have emailed me that information. I was either really out of touch, or the system had a bug. "I would have seen that in the warning network we set up on the forum."

"This came via an informant. I have some people checking into it." Étoile didn't sound unduly perturbed as relief flooded me. The system wasn't buggy after all. "It's probably nothing. Anyway, I'm glad you're back. When shall I send the next shipment? Or are you still on vacation?"

"As soon as you like, I guess. All the last boxes are gone." When Étoile took up her post, she hired me to haul the Council's ancient filing system into this century. That meant wading through box after box of crumbling, dusty material, some of it centuries old, and uploading it onto a secure server before cross-referencing it. The idea was to make the Council's knowledge accessible to all witches, and not just a select few as it was previously. If anything could be said for Étoile, she was certainly democratic when it came to sharing. She didn't want to just run the Council, she wanted to revolutionise it, and I was proud to be part of her team.

I didn't hide my other motives, which kept the monotony of uploading the material less of a chore. For the past few months, I had been searching for two very specific pieces of information. The first related to my father's family; as I knew little of the Mayweather branch of my heritage, and was keen to learn more. Perhaps it was a case of seeking balance over the disappointing knowledge that my mother was Auberon Morgan's younger sister, although even that carried the benefit of acquiring Daniel as a cousin. As far as I knew, Daniel and I were the sole surviving members of our family, aside from Auberon... and Auberon, most certainly, did not count. We might be related by blood, but he was no family of mine. I held a small hope that there was a Mayweather relative still alive somewhere.

The second piece of information was even more personal. I wanted to learn everything I could about demons and their half-human offspring, daemons. It wasn't purely academic. I didn't just want to know their histories, I wanted to know their weaknesses too.

My ex-boyfriend, Evan Hunter, was the reason for my search. He was a daemon born of a human mother and an imposing and enigmatic demon father, as well as my first love. Since his powerful and deadly father, Hunter — a creature I didn't trust one bit — pulled Evan into his political race, the end goal of which was a mystery to me, I liked him even less than not at all. I broke up with Evan so that I couldn't be used against him; since his protection came with a costly price. That Evan didn't extract himself from the demons' politics after our break up remained a source of some worry to me. More troublesome still was my suspicion that he couldn't. Despite my misgivings that Evan wouldn't want me interfering, I couldn't help my further investigations. If Evan was in trouble, it was the least I could do. After all, Evan was once my teacher and protector, not just the first and only man I ever loved. I might not have seen him in many months, but I still felt love whenever I thought of him. Love that was mixed with pain, anger, and confusion.

Countless times, I picked up the phone only to talk myself out if it, feeling at a loss of what to say. Even worse, what if Evan refused to speak to me?

"I'll have more sent over for when you're ready; and Stella, I know it's short notice, but as you're home now, I want you to come to the city for a meeting."

"When?" I asked, wondering how I could fit in a visit with Annalise and the baby at the hospital, while checking in with my other part-time employer, Étoile's sister, Seren, whom I helped in the administration of her website. I'd already cut my hours back to the barest minimum just so I could complete my college commitments before I took my vacation in my home country. I wasn't sure how overstretched Seren and her husband, David, had become. Their business of selling magical items was rapidly growing to meet the incessant demand. All of a sudden, the pressure I felt when I began my vacation reared again, and I slumped lower on the sofa. So much for relaxing!

"Tomorrow at noon."

"Shall I come to your apartment?" I asked, sparking at the idea of seeing my friend, Kitty, who moved to the city at the same time as Étoile, and was currently her houseguest. The idea of seeing Kitty elated me. With both of them gone from my home, not to mention Evan too, my house felt very quiet and empty. It no longer struck me as strange that I'd gone from a very solitary existence in London, lacking the knowledge and understanding of my magical heritage, to finding true pleasure at having a houseful of friends. A very large part of me missed Étoile and Kitty tremendously, even though we were in almost daily contact. The remainder of me ached for the man I lost. Perhaps keeping busy would be good? It would give me less time to think about being lonely. And I wouldn't have to compare how quiet my house felt without them all there.

"No. Meet me at The Amethyst,"
Étoile said, surprising me. She preferred to meet at the Council's suite of offices, which occupied a tall, inconspicuous-looking building. "I have other business to take care of."

"No problem."

"The Council are pleased over your progress with the online forum."

"Oh? Good." I couldn't help the note of surprise that leaked into my voice at being noticed. Of course, the Council were watching my progress. They watched everything. I only hoped that, unlike some of the witches in the community, it was because they were
following Étoile's positive advocacy to ensure that no witch was isolated again. The forum wasn't just for chatting and sharing knowledge; it also served as an important early warning system. Whether sighting Morgan's witch hunters, or any other problem that threatened our kind, we could quickly and efficiently contact each other from anywhere in the world. I couldn't take all the credit though. While I played a key part in its design, the site was built by a web company based in The Amethyst, along with input from the Council. Their owner was a warlock, and we'd had many interesting discussions. "It's only been live a few weeks," I pointed out. "And we've barely made any of the archives available."

"Time is less important than our ability to connect with witches throughout the world. This is going to change the way we live, Stella."

"That's what you wanted, right? To bring the Council into this century?"

"Absolutely." Another softer voice drifted down the line with some kind of instruction to
Étoile, but I couldn't make it out. She sighed as she spoke again. "I must go. Remember, tomorrow. The Amethyst. Noon."

"I'll have to shimmer," I mused, stretching my arms, then my legs. All felt fine.

"Piece of cake now, right?"

"Absolutely. Hey, are you going to tell me what the meeting is about?"

Étoile laughed, but it wasn't mirthful. "All will be revealed. Don't be late."

~

I arrived at The Amethyst a half hour early, beaming into the entrance lobby on the floor where The Council had their suite of offices. It was one of the few unprotected places for a shimmering witch. Most simply took the elevator. My entrance was barely noticed, barring a few curious glances cast in my direction, so I simply signed the guest book — not that The Council needed one, I was sure – and made an enquiry into Étoile's whereabouts before searching for her.

She was still in her meeting when I passed by the boardroom, so I simply dropped into a chair, pulled a book from my bag, and made myself comfortable. My book had just reached a climatic chapter when the door abruptly opened, and all manner of supernatural creatures made their exit. I recognised some from the Council's election who greeted me as I stood, while others were unfamiliar. There was Noah Wilde, the leader of the werewolves, and a few members of his party, then several more witches, and four demons, all largely proportioned and scary as hell. I was surprised to see Noah. I heard that due to his fight with a disgraced witch, prior to
Étoile's inauguration, he had to pay a large fine. What truly surprised me wasn't when Hunter exited next, but seeing Evan was right behind him. What was he doing here?

"Miss Mayweather," said Hunter, barely blinking as he locked eyes on me. "A pleasure to see you again."

Despite being frozen in place with surprise, I had just enough wherewithal to make a polite gesture and nod to him. My eyes drifted to Evan, who looked down at me, his face remaining impassive. As my thumb grazed the ring he'd once given me, which I still wore, I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out, and then they were gone. I released a deep sigh of exasperation as Étoile exited next, right before the party rounded the corner and moved out of our sight.

"Why aren't you at my office?" asked
Étoile. She looked tired, but impeccably dressed in her black silk suit. Her hair was cut short again, very close to the sides of her head, and she ruffled it into loose waves on top. Only Étoile could pull that type of look off and come out stunning. It must have been a Winterstorm gift, I concluded, one she shared with her sisters. The whole family took glamour to the next level.