Carnival of Secrets (30 page)

Aya lifted her hand as if to strike Evelyn, but moved no further. “Don’t test me,
Mother
.”

The older witch snorted, and then she looked at Mallory as if her daughter wasn’t poised to strike her. “You can come to the office in an hour. If Adam’s in our world, I’ll know where he is. If not, he’s over there.”

Mallory knew her aunt was cold, but this was ridiculous. “Tell me what he took. I’ll give it back to them, and . . . you can talk to them, right? There has to be—”

“Come in an hour.” Evelyn turned sharply on her heel and walked away, leaving Mallory with a witch-daimon and a daimon.

Mallory looked at the daimon, who once more stood beside Aya. He didn’t act like he wanted to destroy Aya, but rather like he wanted to protect her. She
was
half-daimon though, so maybe that was the difference. Daimons had devoured witches for centuries. Evelyn, like many witches Mallory had met, saw all daimons as dangerous, and Mallory herself had no evidence to the contrary—aside from Kaleb, although he wasn’t particularly lacking in dangerousness.

“I’m completely bound to her will,” the daimon, Belias, said. “I cannot hurt you without Aya’s consent, and she is your family. You are safe with us.” He paused and glanced in the direction that Evelyn had gone. “Probably safer than with her.”

Mallory allowed herself to smile at him, but didn’t admit aloud that she agreed.

Aya glanced at Belias before saying, “My mother won’t tell me who fathered me, but I was raised in The City. I knew only that witches were horrid things that had to be kept in control, that they were to be feared.”

“I’ve heard the same about daimons,” Mallory hedged.

“No one is automatically good or bad because of their species.” Aya shook her head. “Although my mother makes a great case for witches being unlikable. Hopefully, you’ve known witches who were otherwise.”

Mallory fought against a sudden wave of sorrow. “My father. He’s good and kind.” She thought about the way Adam had treated Kaleb and added quietly, “Mostly.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment. Aya and Belias seemed perfectly calm, as if Evelyn hadn’t just been flinging Belias aside and he hadn’t been trying to cut her. It reminded Mallory of the calm she could reach when she was training. The difference, for her at least, was that she hadn’t ever had to test that calm in true conflict. No one had ever tried to kill her, and the thought of it happening pretty much eliminated any calm she felt.

“If they took him, you’ll need a guide in The City,” Aya pointed out.

Mallory hesitated. The distrust she had for Evelyn was a result of Evelyn herself, not her species. The reality was that Mallory needed answers and allies. Her only truly trusted ally, her father, was missing, and if her suspicions were right, he was in danger. She felt an innate trust of Kaleb, but he was one daimon—and she didn’t want to mention him just yet.

“I guess we have an hour to kill before we go see Evelyn,” Mallory offered in as even a voice as she could muster.

K
ALEB HALF EXPECTED
M
ALLORY
to shoot him when he returned. He wondered if Adam might turn up; he even considered the possibility that Mallory would be gone. What he didn’t expect was to see a daimon sitting in Mallory’s living room—especially a daimon who was supposed to be dead.

“Belias? What are you doing here?” Kaleb paused and scanned the room.

“Waiting.”

The trickle of fear Kaleb felt was tempered by the lack of threat he read in Belias’ posture. The ruling-caste daimon sat casually in the living room, seemingly transfixed by the television. He flicked through channels rapidly, and Kaleb recognized the same sense of awe that he’d felt when he’d first seen a television.

Tentatively, Kaleb started, “I thought you were . . .” His words faded. “You lost your match to Aya.”

“That would make me dead, wouldn’t it? It should mean that Aya killed me, right?” Belias finished. “No. She sent me here instead, imprisoned me in a witch’s circle.”

“Oh.” Kaleb stared at him. There was nothing he could think to say. He didn’t want to ask Belias if he knew that
Aya
was a witch too—or if he knew that she was bound to Kaleb or that Marchosias wanted to breed her. None of that seemed helpful to mention.

Aya walked in. “I see you’ve met my familiar.”

“Your—” Kaleb looked from Belias to Aya. In that moment, he feared that she was more of a threat despite their bargain. She was a witch here in his wife’s home. Perhaps she was here because of a threat
to
Mallory. He couldn’t process the tangle of threats beyond realizing that this was even worse than the way he felt when he saw danger to Zevi. He looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of order, but Aya was a powerful witch. Kaleb sincerely doubted that Mallory would’ve stood much chance against her. She might have been raised by a witch, but that didn’t change what she was. Worse still, she didn’t know what she was.

“Mallory?” he called.

The thought of fighting both Aya and Belias was about as appealing as fighting Marchosias—or Adam. He’d do it if he had to, but he was really hoping that Aya was here as an asset, not a hindrance.
We have a bargain. It’s fine.
It was Aya’s magic that had bound them though. His twinge of fear blossomed.

“Mallory!” he called again, louder this time.

His wife walked into the room. For a moment, he thought she was going to come to him, that she was happy to see him, but midway into the room she stopped cold. Her smile vanished as she remembered that she was mistrustful or angry or whatever term she called her emotions. “Did you learn anything?”

“I went to The City and asked my packmate to start tracking down what he could there, and then I went to Adam’s offices. They told me nothing, but they’re going to report it to his superior. I don’t know who that is but—”

“Evelyn,” Mallory interrupted. “The one I told you about: my aunt. Aya’s mother. She’s the witch in charge of everything, and she’s why we live here.”

“Aya’s
mother
is your aunt?” Feeling a bit like the world around him had become utterly unfamiliar, he turned his gaze to the witch he had taken into his protection. Her placid expression remained unchanged as well.

He continued, “The witch in charge of here—”

“Of everywhere, actually,” Mallory interjected. “She’s head of the Witches’ Council.”

“Your mother is the
head of the Witches’ Council
, and you didn’t think to tell me?” he asked. “I think you need to fill me in on a few things, Aya.”

“I told you I would look into the situation. What I didn’t mention was that my mother is the witch who runs the Witches’ Council.” She didn’t react as Belias dropped the remote and stood at her side. “She summoned Belias. Today, she introduced me to my cousin.”

Kaleb couldn’t comment on the cousin part just yet. All he said was, “About that—I thought you
killed
Belias?”

“Poisoned him to make him look dead. Witch magic,” Aya said. “Then Evelyn summoned him so I didn’t have to kill him for real.”

“Enslaving him was better?”

“She didn’t want to lose,” Belias said, so mildly that Kaleb wasn’t sure if he was accepting or hiding anger. “If she wins the competition, she can rule and hide what she is.”

Aya stared pointedly at Kaleb, who said nothing. Obviously, Belias didn’t know that Aya was forfeiting.

The click and slide of Mallory’s gun as she checked her clip drew Kaleb’s attention away from the bound daimon and the witch who apparently had far more secrets than Kaleb could’ve guessed.

Mallory removed a box of bullets and another clip from a cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Kaleb asked.

“Getting ready to see Evelyn.” Mallory shoved a handful of bullets in one front pocket and a spare clip in the other. She had a second gun, a revolver, in a holster too. “Then, if Dad isn’t here in this world, you three are taking me to Marchosias.”

“Mal—”

“No,” Aya interrupted. “It’s a sound plan.”

Mallory flashed a smile at Aya. “Thank you.” Then she looked at Kaleb. “I want to believe the things you said to me were for real, Kaleb. I want to believe that daimons aren’t inherently awful . . . and the truth is that I don’t have anyone else to turn to. If Dad is in your world, I need help. I know he took something . . . and either Evelyn will tell me what it is or this Marchosias will. I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

Kaleb felt the weight of Aya’s and Belias’ attention, and he wasn’t ready to have the conversation he needed to have with Mallory in front of them. Unfortunately, he didn’t have many options either. He crossed the room and took one of Mallory’s hands in his. “I love you. I want to help you, but maybe it would be better if the three of us went to The City and you stay—”

“No. If you find Dad, he’s not exactly going to trust
you
.” Mallory didn’t pull her hand away, but she didn’t respond at all to his declaration of love either. With the hand still holding the gun, she gestured toward Aya. “She’s not a weak witch; she stood up to Evelyn herself, and I
know
how rare that is. From what Aya tells me, the three of you were among the final contenders in some he-man”—Mallory glanced at Aya—“sorry . . . some who’s-a-better-killer contest that you didn’t mention. That tells me that you’re not exactly useless at fighting either. I have been training for my whole life. This”—she holstered her gun—“isn’t as useful against magic, but I’m gathering that there aren’t many witches in The City. If my dad is there, we’re getting him back.”

A burst of pride and love filled Kaleb, but it was quickly squelched by an overwhelming pack instinct to protect Mallory—and a not-insignificant measure of self-preservation. He simply wasn’t ready for Mallory to learn that they were married or that she was a daimon. He tried again. “You
really
don’t want to meet Marchosias. If there are no other options, we can do that, but let me at least try to—”

“Daimons and witches
hate
each other, Kaleb. I might not know your world, but I know that. If Dad is there, he’s not being treated well. Whatever he stole from Marchosias is important enough to make my father run for years.” Mallory squeezed his hand and whispered, “Please help me? You told me you would protect me. That means coming with me. Will you?”

And Kaleb couldn’t do anything but nod.

M
ALLORY’S MOOD FLITTED BETWEEN
terror and hope as she walked through Franklin with two daimons and her daimon-witch cousin. She thought over the things her father had taught her, remembered how he’d injured Kaleb, and tried to make those details align with his directive to trust Evelyn. Two of the people walking with her were the aid Evelyn had delivered, and they both knew Kaleb—and, from the way it looked, trusted him.

Which means I can trust him?

She felt guiltily hopeful for thinking about that while she was trying to find her missing father, but her mind was a jumble of thoughts and fears and hopes. Her emotions for Kaleb were in the thick of it. It was impossible not to think about him when he was near her.

He said he loved me. Not just once either.

There was no way to truly believe him, not right now, but she wanted to believe him. She glanced at him, and he reached out as if he’d pull her nearer. She wasn’t ready for that though. There were a lot of answers she needed before she could let herself get closer to him. Trusting Aya was easier: she was a witch, Adam’s niece.

“I wish you’d stay where you’re safe. Adam’s wards will protect you if you stay in the house.” Kaleb’s voice was low, making her step a little nearer to him. “I will give you my vow to do everything possible to find and help Adam.”

Despite having just reminded herself that she couldn’t trust him, Mallory gave in to the impulse and took his hand in hers. “He’s my father, Kaleb. I don’t know what kind of families daimons have, but . . . Adam is my entire family since my mom left.”

Kaleb nodded. “I have a packmate, Zevi. He’s my whole family.” Kaleb’s intensity returned. “I want you to be a part of my family, too. I mean it when I say I love you.”

“We don’t know each other that well.”

“I’m a cur, Mallory.” He paused and shook his head. “You have no idea what that means, but think of stray dogs in your world. The mangy ones that most people want to put down. In my world, I’m one of those dogs. I don’t think I’ve ever said
I love you
to anyone before, at least not since I can remember. I trust my instincts though”—he looked directly into her eyes—“and when we kissed, I knew. You’re it. The mate I want.”

“The mate?” Her voice squeaked, and she coughed a little before she spoke again. “I’m not . . . I can’t. . . . You’re moving way faster than I can handle here. Let me find my dad, and then we can see where we are, if there even is a
we
.”

Kaleb’s smile was completely confident. “There is. I felt how you were with me. We fit.”

Gently, Mallory pointed out, “That could be just physical. Lust or whatever . . . it’s not that easy.”