Blood, Smoke and Mirrors (2010) (7 page)

"Hold still." Squaring my shoulders, I stared at the claw marks, holding my right hand just a hairsbreadth above them. I closed my eyes, concentrating as I visualized the slashes closing from the inside out, the tissue and muscle slowly knitting together. The energy moved in a cool, soothing wave, and I passed my hand across the length of the wound. To my disappointment I realized I couldn't close it completely. I just didn't have the strength left in me, but I managed to reduce the gouges to mere scratches.

"That's all I can do." My voice was hushed and breathy as I opened my eyes and sagged into the chair behind me. I was tapped out--between the exertion of the test, the strain of holding up uber-shields, and healing the wounds, I was at my magic's limit.

"Thanks, Cat. I can handle the rest."

"Nah, I started it, may as well finish it." Grabbing a tube of triple antibiotic ointment from my first-aid kit, I leaned forward and smeared a generous amount on the claw marks. "Hey, if you heard about my death sentence, I don't suppose you heard why the vampires want my father to be Oberon?"

"No, that's goin' to take more research."

"It's a power play of some sort," Tybalt stated.

"Yeah, but what sort? We need to figure out what they're up to before we do anything else."

"That thought had crossed my mind." Lex smiled dryly. "I'm going to do some askin' around tomorrow."

"You mean
we
are going to do some askin' around, right?" Frowning at my collection of bandages and the placement of his injuries, I debated how best to wrap them up. The prospect of putting my arms around him to do something as simple as winding bandages turned my face even redder, and I cursed myself for being a blushing idiot. With an annoyed sigh I stood up again and got to work.

"No, I meant just me. I wouldn't advise you leaving here right now. Your apartment still warded?"

"Of course. I have the whole lot triple warded, for everything but faeries." With my relationship to Tybalt and Portia's clan, not many beings from Faerie would try to pick on me, so I don't worry about keeping them out. Clan Silverleaf is respected, powerful and well connected.

"I'm impressed," he said, and his expression echoed the sentiment.

"Yeah, well, I got real into security after..." I trailed off. Lex nodded in understanding and didn't comment. After my attack I'd been extra jumpy, but I'd been twitchy about safety even before that. Not many witches have come home to see a loved one ripped to pieces on the carpet. If my mother had taken more precautions, the vampires might not have been able to get in to attack her, though admittedly it was a very big might, considering my father would have just undone whatever wards she put up. He let those monsters in. Very little feels safe again after that.

"With your wards it's safer for you to stay here," he pointed out.

"I'm not going to lock myself in my room and hide under the covers and hope the monsters go away. I need answers, so I'm going with you. There, all done." Stepping away, I let him inspect my first-aid handiwork.

"Thanks, sugar."

I flinched at the nickname, the scene a little too familiar for my taste. Lex'd spent a lot of time in my apartment while we were dating, because my place was closer to most of his work than his house was. Walking around him, I crossed to the sink, nudging Tybalt aside so I could wash up. As I dried my hands off, I fought the urge to yawn. I was exhausted. I hadn't been this tired in years, possibly never. Throwing around so much big magic put a drain on my magical batteries and I hadn't really given them an opportunity to recharge. If we got into another fight, I'd start to worry about the strength of my shields. Then again, it wasn't a question of if we'd get into another fight, but of when.

"You look like you could sleep for a week," Tybalt said.

"Wouldn't that be nice."

"You should come home with me, stay with the family."

"It's not a bad idea," Lex agreed. "You'd be safe from the vamps in Faerie."

"Yeah, but I'm safe from the vamps here as long as they don't drop a house on my building." I didn't want to run and hide behind my faerie cousins--it seemed like cheating somehow.

"Fair enough. So you'll be leaving now?" Tybalt asked Lex. The faerie folded his thin arms across his chest and watched the guardian carefully. It made me want to give Tybalt a big hug.

"I've been ordered to look after Cat. It's best if I stick close. She does have a nice, comfy couch." He nodded toward my living room.

"And you'd best make sure you stay on that couch, Duquesne."

"Of course." Amusement danced in those beautiful light blue eyes, but Tybalt and I weren't laughing.

"I don't know what idiot assigned you here, but I don't like it, and you'd better be on your best behavior." The faerie glared up at Lex, and then he turned to me and gave a slight bow. "Blessed be, Kitty. Rest well." With a soft pop the faerie blinked out of the room, leaving only me and the half-naked guardian. Well, me, the half-naked guardian and my two cats who had been staring at him since he entered the apartment, watching Lex as though he were the King of all cat-kind and they were awaiting his orders. It made me want to yell "boo!" just to see if they'd jump.

"We ought to get you into bed soon," Lex advised.

I blinked, certain I'd heard that wrong, and struggled to maintain my composure. Certain death was almost easier to face than the idea of Lex spending the night in my apartment.

Placing my hands on my hips, I glared up at him. "Why are you here?"

"Orders, actually."

"From who? Obviously they didn't come from the witches' council. They'd be more than happy to see me dead."

"Now that's just not true. And you know I can't tell you."

"Great, classified information, got it." Deciding I wasn't going to get anywhere, I walked away into the living room. "I'll get you a pillow, and I have extra sheets in the linen closet."

"Cat--"

Ducking into the bathroom, I yanked open the door to the linen closet and began rummaging through it. I didn't think he would need a blanket--it was warm up here on the second floor and my bedroom was the only one with an air-conditioning unit. It was a little comforting to know he'd suffer while trying to sleep in the sauna that was my living room.

"You don't need to go to any trouble," he said from behind me. Startled, I jumped and rapped my head hard on the underside of a shelf. It took a great deal of willpower to swallow the string of curses that came to mind, and I rubbed the bump on my head with one hand as I thrust an old set of gray cotton sheets I'd used in college at him.

"Here. Just...just go."

"Thanks, Cat."

"Don't mention it," I muttered as I retreated hastily to my bedroom. Shutting the door behind me, I crawled directly into bed and hid my head under my pillows. Tomorrow had to be better. I couldn't see how it could get any worse.

Chapter Six

Though I needed to sleep for a week, I woke up at sunrise. I dragged myself out of bed and stood staring at my closed bedroom door. All I could think of was how to best tiptoe around Lex to avoid waking him. Depressing. Pathetic.

After a record-fast shower I retreated back into my room and got dressed. Considering I had no idea what my schedule was for the day, other than the fact that I would not be going to work, I settled on jeans and a T-shirt that proudly proclaimed that I was an alumni of Three Oaks University in bright green block letters. I tamed my wet hair into a long French braid, guaranteeing it would stay in place for the foreseeable future, and then next on my to-do list was imbibing copious amounts of coffee. I crept into the kitchen and set about making breakfast. Thanks to last night's fight I needed pancakes to recharge, and lots of 'em.

I'd used up half the batter and finished my first cup of coffee when I noticed my uninvited guest watching me from the doorway, a cat standing guard on either side of him. Whatever had gotten into my cats was beginning to creep me out--they were disobeying the feline rules of conduct by showing extreme interest in a human who didn't appear to be allergic to them. They'd never paid any attention to Lex before. I had no idea what they found so fascinating about him now.

"Good morning. Hungry?" I asked as casually as I could manage.

"Starved."

"Help yourself." I nodded in the direction of the empty plate I'd left on the counter. "Extra mugs are in the cabinets up and to the right."

"I know."

Staring at the skillet, I choked down a sarcastic reply. Of course he knew where they were. This wasn't the first morning we'd spent in my kitchen. "Gonna need a hearty breakfast if we have a full day fighting evil," I quipped, steering my thoughts to a new subject.

"It does help." He proceeded to stack his plate full of pancakes and pour himself a cup of coffee. There was something absurd about the rugged, long-haired man drinking out of my bright yellow Tigger mug. Really, there was just something absurd about having him in my kitchen in general. It was a sight I thought I'd never see again, but to be honest I'd never understood what he saw in me in the first place. Even with the rumpled, slept-in, bloodstained clothes, a day's worth of stubble and the wavy, shoulder-length hair, Lex still looked as though he belonged on the cover of one of the many romance novels crammed into the bookshelves in my bedroom. Maybe as a pirate, or a barbarian warlord. And he ought to have a busty wench to accompany him. Not me, a mousy waitress in jeans and a T-shirt. I guess we must've been doomed to failure.

"What's our plan for today?" I asked.

"I still say you should stay here, or let me take you somewhere else safe."

"If it gets real bad I can stay with my cousins, but I'm not letting the evil dead chase me out of my home if I can help it." To emphasize my point I jabbed a spatula in his direction, and he held his hands up in defeat.

"All right, I surrender. I'll have to make some calls, and if nothin' turns up we'll take a drive and talk to some people."

"That sounds deceptively easy."

"Don't worry, it won't be."

"How encouraging."

When I finished the last of the pancake batter, I loaded up my own plate and refilled my coffee before sitting across from Lex. My cats sat side by side at his feet and stared up at him as he ate, until I distracted them by getting up and filling their food dishes. The loud crunching of cats chowing down on dry cat food was the only sound in the kitchen while everyone enjoyed their breakfast. I don't do well with silence, and decided to ask something that'd been bugging me.

"Did the faerie council send you?"

"You know I can't answer that."

"It's the only thing that makes sense. Obviously the witches' council couldn't care less about my welfare. They'd probably kill me themselves, 'cept they don't want to get their holier-than-thou hands dirty." I pushed the plate away from me as I suddenly lost my appetite.

"You're not bein' fair to them."

"Why should I? They weren't fair to me," I countered. "I got cast out for self-defense.
Self-defense.
Most people get off with a warning, 'specially for a first offense. It's crazy."

"I know..." He trailed off, and for a moment it looked as though he was struggling to say something, but then he sighed, shaking his head. "Look, Cat. I don't want to work with Dorian, and I'm sure you can understand that. You'll make a good Titania. It's in everyone's best interest that you stay alive long enough to become it. That's why I'm here."

"I didn't think guardians got to choose sides."

"We don't, in general. These are unique circumstances. No one wants to see the vampires get a foothold in Faerie, and I do mean no one," he said, a dire note hidden beneath the Southern drawl. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as I pondered his words. As the magic police, guardians ultimately answer to only one power. A higher power.

"Huh. Right then."

Aside from a bit of chit-chat about the weather and other benign topics, the meal was a quiet one. I had no idea what to say to him, and as usual he seemed content with silence--Lex'd always been a man of few words. While I cleaned up dishes and the mess I'd made while cooking, Lex disappeared to take a shower and start on whatever phone calls he needed to make. I wondered who he would talk to, and my mind filled with detective-movie images of a nervous, weaselly snitch whispering secrets into the phone, his voice nearly drowned out with an ominous soundtrack that hinted at impending doom. Probably wasn't far from the truth--I can't imagine any wholesome people being willingly involved with vampires and necromancers--and I bet the vamps bumped off informants as readily as the mob. After all, this is Chicago.

When I'd run out of things to busy myself with in the kitchen, I wandered into my living room and discovered Lex seated on the couch. He'd changed into a new set of clothes, and the old bloodstained ones peeked out from the top of the open gym bag at his feet. This time he'd gone with a pair of blue jeans and a simple, short-sleeved, black button-down shirt. There was a lot of black in that man's wardrobe. I knew, I'd seen his closet. Then again most of the men I knew seemed to prefer black instead of color. It's a magician thing. With the stubble gone and his light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail again, Lex almost looked respectable. Almost.

Frowning into his cell phone, he was arguing with someone in French. I raised an eyebrow. I speak a decent amount of Spanish, because I studied it in high school and college. Both languages have their roots in Latin, which I also have a decent understanding of, so I can get a rough gist of what's being said--only if it's spoken slowly enough, and Lex's heated conversation didn't qualify. Annoyed, he snapped his phone shut and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him.

"Problem?" I asked. He looked up at me with temper in his eyes, and I shrank back slightly into the safety of the doorway.

"A few. Looks like we're going to have to take a drive."

"Where to?"

"O'Hare. Can I borrow your printer?" he asked, nodding at my computer.

"Sure, knock yourself out. Why O'Hare? Are we flying somewhere?" I'd never been to O'Hare airport, considering Midway is so much closer to where I live and easier to get in and out of.

Lex settled in at my desk. "Not really. Just need to talk to someone there, and we'll need boarding passes to get into the terminal. You'll want to travel light. Don't bring anything that'll scare security."

Well, that pretty much ruled out the majority of my magical trinket arsenal. Deciding my attire was appropriate for the airport, all I needed to do was empty anything questionable out of my purse and I was ready to go. Dumping the contents of my bag onto the coffee table, I separated out all my magical tools--a few suspicious-looking crystals, some sinister vials of essential oils (
Look out, she's armed with patchouli!)
, and four or five books of matches. This left me with a wallet and keys.

"Here." Lex handed me a piece of printer paper. I scanned it, frowning in disappointment.

"Boise? Who wants to go to Boise?"

"Nobody, that's why they had seats open."

"Oh." Made sense.

Lex drove, since I am distinctly lacking in possession of an automobile. Once we got on the expressway I noticed the roll of dark clouds approaching in the distance, preparing to ruin the bright, sunshiny day. It was probably a good thing. With any luck the rain would break the stifling heat and give us a few days of decent temperatures. Traffic wasn't too awful, so we made decent time getting out to O'Hare. The first drops of rain began to fall as we arrived.

The airport was enormous. I thought I was prepared for it, considering Midway wasn't exactly a shoebox, but the place was gigantic. O'Hare dwarfed the other airport, and I was immediately glad I didn't have to try to navigate the place by myself. Lex maneuvered us through it, quick and efficient, like he had magical radar that alerted him to the lines with the shortest wait. He must be invaluable at amusement parks.

The crowd seemed to be made up of mostly business travelers, with a scattering of families headed out for their summer vacation mixed in. People clutched their carry-ons as though they expected the bomb squad to swarm them if they made the mistake of setting their bag down for a moment. It made me feel very naked--all I had was a near-empty purse. Lex drew to a halt in a small food court, scanned the area, and then turned to me.

"You want some coffee?" He nodded in the direction of a nearby Starbucks.

"Uh, I guess so." Coffee? We'd come all the way out here for Starbucks? Surely not.

"All right. Go find us a seat, I'll be right back."

Without another word he walked away, and I watched him in a state of fuzzy confusion. Deciding to play along and do as I was told, I picked out an empty table and grabbed a seat. I settled back and continued to watch the crowd. The place felt like a mall with businessmen instead of teenagers. It was very odd. Most of the tables around me were taken up by people in suits sipping coffee while staring intently at their laptop computers--lord forbid they go anywhere without a wi-fi connection, might miss an email while waiting for their flight. A mother and her three children were seated a few tables away, and one of the kids began bawling because her brother stole one of her fries. Another fine example of why I prefer cats to children. I don't have to haul my furry babies around and suffer through feline temper tantrums in public. Not that I'm morally opposed to children, I just didn't foresee any in my future.

"Here you go," Lex said, interrupting my train of thought. He handed me a small cardboard cup of steaming coffee and I sipped it. Vanilla latte, my standard gourmet coffee drink. I shouldn't have been surprised that he remembered, but for some reason just that simple detail made my throat tighten with emotion. Seating himself across from me, he sipped at his own cup.

"Why are we here?" I asked, my voice slightly strained.

"Waiting for someone."

"Okay. Pilot? Flight attendant? Business traveler?" I guessed, and he shook his head.

"Nope. Give it a few minutes, you'll see."

"Great." I leaned back in my chair and decided that questioning him further was going to get me jack in the way of information, so I changed the subject. "Still have those season Cubs tickets?"

Lex chuckled, giving me a grin that made my stomach do a fluttery flip-flop. "Sure do. I haven't been to one in awhile though, been pretty busy."

"Uh-huh. How's Marie doing?" Marie was one of Lex's many sisters, and the only family member of his I'd met.

"Not bad. She's still out in Denver, though our mama's been tryin' to get her transferred back home."

"Why?"

"Well the Duquesnes are based in Louisiana," a voice offered from behind me. "It's tradition that they eventually go home to roost, as it were."

Startled, I turned to see an aged janitor leaning against a mop, his tired brown eyes looking down at me from behind a pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses. The man wore a plain gray coverall with an ID badge as its only decoration, and I wondered how I'd missed seeing him before. I guess he just blended into the background too well.

"Large family, the Duquesnes," he continued. "French originally, quite an interesting history." The janitor turned his gaze to Lex and then ran a gnarled hand through his wispy white hair as he eyed the younger man. "Figured I'd see you here, sooner or later. Looks like it's sooner. I don't have anything for you."

Curious, I surreptitiously sniffed at the newcomer, noting that beneath the strong smell of bleach was the subtle papery scent of a librarian. Guess that explained why we'd come out here--a librarian would have access to the sort of information we needed, and one who based himself in an international airport would hear all sorts of interesting information. There must be more magicians around us than I'd first assumed. It did make sense. Obviously we don't live by magic alone and we don't travel by flying on broomsticks.

"Nice to see you too, Pete. Pete, this is Cat."

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Baker."

"Likewise."

"You sure you haven't heard anything?" Lex asked him, appearing unconvinced.

"All I have is speculation. Everyone's talking about Morrow's candidacy, of course, but no one knows the reason for it, or if they do they're not telling."

"What are they saying about his candidacy?" I inquired.

Pete picked up his mop, plopped the head into the bright yellow bucket on wheels next to him and took the seat next to me. "It's Laura's doing, obviously. I doubt Morrow's made a decision of his own since he took up with her, and she's got enough ambition for a dozen vampires. No one knows why she'd make this move though. In life she had no link to Faerie, so she isn't looking to reconnect with her past. She's prone to wild stunts, but this is odd even for her."

Tension pinched my shoulders at the mention of Laura's name. Lovely Laura Barrenheart was the reason my father left my mother and became a necromancer. She's the vampire who mentored him. Laura was not high on my list of favorite people.