Fire Kissed (28 page)
“Girls who play with matches shouldn’t build anything.”
“Girls who have fire in their blood don’t burn.”
“And Grey? He can squash you like a bug.”
“I am a Brand, old and rich in Shadow.” She looked at him eye to eye, strength to strength. “You have no idea what I’m capable of. And neither does he.”
The grin that split Mason’s face went all the way to his eyes. “Excellent.”
He turned and strode back to his car, gun lowered. Opened the front door and reached deep inside, vulnerable to attack. Was he mocking her?
When he reemerged, he held the rope drawstring of a dull cloth sack that appeared heavy. He approached again. “A gift.”
“I don’t want it.” She would not touch it. “I don’t like your gifts.” The last had been a photo album.
“You’ll want this.” His deep, lazy drawl was getting on her nerves. “And I apologize for the other. I was trying to scare you away on behalf of a friend.”
A friend. “The same ‘friend’ who had my bodyguard viciously beaten?”
“Yep. That one. My friend has been very worried about you.” He loosened the rope until the bag opened and held it out so she could look inside.
Kaye let her gaze drop. Grayish, whitish oval stones. Then she looked closer, a strange, numb exhilaration suddenly flowing through her body. Stones.
“You’ve made my friend change his mind. He’d rather you get the hell out of Dodge while you still can, but if you won’t, if you’re determined in this course—”
“I am.” Her heart pulled and pulled until she didn’t think she could breathe.
“—then he wants you to have these.”
Kaye was going to cry. She looked away, off into the dry, brittle field and the dense growth of the trees in an attempt to compose herself. Another gunshot, and she burst with a short, undignified laugh. She wiped her wet eyes, trying to clean her mascara at the same time. Then gazed into the bag again.
Oh Shadow come and Shadow drum, Shadow make the whole world hum.
She put an arm into the bag, wrapped her hand around a sooty stone, and felt a deep response in her marrow, and in her umbra, and in the
thud
of her heart. Then she drew out and looked upon a Brand House ward stone. The splatter of a tear made the white dust run and the gray stone darken.
thud
of her heart. Then she drew out and looked upon a Brand House ward stone. The splatter of a tear made the white dust run and the gray stone darken.
“How?” was all she could say. With these—
these
—she could do something. The stones were her legacy and her future all at once.
these
—she could do something. The stones were her legacy and her future all at once.
This changed everything.
“They were collected from the rubble ten years ago and kept safe for you, Little Match Girl. You can’t build a mage House without wards.”
A happy sob finally escaped her. She should have known it from the first. For in the story, who had sent the Little Match Girl out to sell her fire but her father?
“How is he?”
She’d concluded he was dead. She’d been told—by whom? she couldn’t remember—that he was dead. He’d never had an active power with fire, but his Brand umbra must have protected him anyway. If she never burned, why would he?
She had to remember back. What had happened that night? What had happened ...
after
?
after
?
“You have more supporters than you know,” Mason said. “And vassals sworn to Aidan Brand seek now to align themselves again under his heir. They want to become yours in every way that Lakatos has.”
Supporters. Vassals. Mages allied against Grey. But no one was like Lakatos, her first.
“And as you’re a Council member, you’re also now the Head of your House.”
Mason handed off the stones to her. The bag was awkward, heavy, but Kaye hugged it to her like a precious treasure. The bitter smell of ash floated up to her nose.
“Why didn’t my father come?” The man who’d slapped her, then stood in front of a wraith while she ran. So many feelings there. Conflicting memories. Maybe it was time she examined them.
“Your old man is biased,” he said. “And I’m trusted to do what needs to be done.”
Ah. The shotgun. Mason had good aim.
“And Lakatos ... ?” But now she thought she knew.
“Has always been loyal to Brand. He just swore himself to the new generation.”
“But he died for the key.”
“He died so that Lakatos would flourish in the time to come. So that you’d make his son powerful. He wants a great House. Listen: We understand you want revenge against Grey House for what they did to Brand. Well and good, payback is warranted. Your father wants it just as badly and is proud of all you’ve accomplished so far to weaken Grey.”
Kaye’s high dropped a notch. They wanted something from her.
“But even your father agrees that you’re too well positioned to waste on a single feud.”
“You’re saying my father wants me to marry Ferro after all.” Why did that hurt when she’d already decided to do so herself? Brand before Kaye.
“I’m saying not to do anything that would jeopardize what you’ve accomplished. The war is on. Shadow will win this one, there’s no doubt about that, but we want to be strategic about how we proceed.”
“Meaning?” The ward stones were getting heavier.
“Meaning, if you waste yourself by bringing Grey low, then none of the Houses that support him will trust you. But if we know their plans, we can make sure that our Houses survive the turmoil. Let them take the brunt of The Order’s assault. And when it’s over, Brand House will be among those that still stand.”
Kaye’s coat wasn’t warm enough for this conversation. She was chilled all the way through.
“You have responsibilities, Kaye. Others who are bound to Brand. Do not fail them for personal reasons.”
“But I don’t want a war with The Order,” she said in a low voice.
He laughed. “Don’t tell me that you, who held fire in the face of a fae, are afraid of the angels. You saw how weak and frail they can be when you got rid of Grey’s pet.”
“I’m not afraid. I just don’t want war.”
“History repeats itself, but at least this time the outcome is assured in our favor. The Dark Age is coming at last.”
The Dark Age was here. But this gave her a lot to think about. Her father. Supporters. Stones. No matter what, however, she would do whatever the hell she wanted.
Her arms ached. “How do I reach you? How do I get in touch with my father? I want to see him. I demand to see him.”
Mason sighed. “Too dangerous. So far you’ve been magnificent.”
She usually loved flattery. But she shook her head.
“Shit, okay. But it has to be tomorrow. Battle Park outside Warrenton.”
Fine. In the meantime, “I’ll consider what you’ve said.”
He ratcheted the gun. Shot. “You do that.”
There was no way she could bring the wraith back now. And the golum made from the mud of dead people couldn’t come back either. Grey would find out eventually, and she would be implicated.
Picking battles.
A spark was easy to find while embracing the ward stones; the fire within licked every pulsing nerve. A clench of an inner muscle and the wraith exploded in flame. She lit the golum as well, to make a point, which seemed to make Mason’s eyes go even blacker, hungry, impressed.
She turned on her heel, wobbled, but kept her shoulders back anyway, then started for the car. “And stop killing my clients.”
Chapter 14
“Fiefdoms,” Jack said suddenly, examining Adam’s demarcated maps of North America.
Adam had taken over a small Colonial inn near a historic battlefield in Fredericksburg. The place had an independent generator and sufficient amenities to dive immediately into parsing the information from Grey’s office. The Order was also working on the same elsewhere.
“Fiefdoms,” he repeated, surer now. The wraith-free zones were shaded like topography, the center white. Adam had added a sideways triangle icon common to computer-generated data to identify each one, but to Jack the triangles looked like pennants. And pennants were hung to show unity behind a team, or a fraternity, or long ago, a noble family.
Of course. That’s what Grey was doing with his Houses. It was brilliant. The mage was corrupt, but he had vision.
“Excuse me?” Adam said.
“He’s put in place a feudal system underneath your democratic government. See here—” Jack pointed to a zone near the Georgia coast. “Hall House makes its home here.” He pointed to an area. “Webb.” There were so many. “Martin.” And another. “Wright.” He continued, “And Grey House is here, lording over them all.”
His gaze skated over the map again. “And considering that they intend to hit power hubs next, yes, I’m almost certain that they intend to rule and protect at the same time. It makes perfect sense.”
He glanced over at Adam. “You don’t believe me?”
Adam shrugged. “People would never stand for it. Not today. Kids learn about the horrors of tyranny in grade school. No one would recognize some guy, no matter how powerful, who thought he could lord it over people.”
Jack shook his head. Adam lacked the scope of time to see it clearly. “You don’t understand the benefits of the system, why it worked for so long, and you’re not remembering the first priority of humankind. While yes, the population of an area would be under the thumb of a lord, or House in this case, and through it, a king (or Ferro), they could also expect in return
protection
for themselves and their families. Safety, peace. Shadow
will
continue to deepen on Earth.
protection
for themselves and their families. Safety, peace. Shadow
will
continue to deepen on Earth.
“Grey knows that the future will not be governed by politicians who speak carefully worded rhetoric on any number of controversial subjects. The future will be governed by those who have the power to manage Shadow, to keep it out, to fight the monsters, and to keep food and medical supplies moving. An infrastructure.” Jack was certain that Urlich had provided part of that service. “The Houses do not rise in strength by wealth and cunning alone. They have real power. They know they have it.”
“Then The Order should take over,” Adam concluded, as if this were easy.
Jack smiled. “That’s just a tyranny of a different kind.”
Adam threw his stylus onto the map. “So you
agree
with what Grey is doing?”
agree
with what Grey is doing?”
“No,” Jack answered. “I’m acknowledging the issue and the viable solution he’s found and put into place. No mage is going to wait for people to vote on how he or she should handle a problem presented by Shadow. You never waited for permission to act. And in a way, Segue is a little kingdom too. Think about it.”
She’s arrived. Drove herself,
came the report from a bird’s-eye vantage.
came the report from a bird’s-eye vantage.
Jack’s heart jumped.
Movement outside drew him to the window. The rolling grounds allowed them to see anyone approaching, like now. A Mercedes was climbing the drive, one of Grey’s.
“She’s here,” Jack said. He clenched his fists, anticipating the victory. He couldn’t believe Grey had let her come unattended, or at all. Not after the angry way he’d looked at her last night amid the commotion. He must think she was absolutely loyal.
Jack knew that she was. The worst was now over, though his blood rushed to the beat of danger. Adam Thorne would be her last “client.” The assignment was officially over. It had been far worse than he’d predicted, and for reasons he never could’ve anticipated.
Adam glanced up briefly at the news, but then went back to the map rolled out before him, expression haunted by their conversation. At another desk, Layla Mathews was on the phone, listening and nodding, as if the person on the other line could see her agreement.
Far off, Jack heard the door close, the sound of Kaye’s heels. He loved that sharp rap on the floor—it said,
I am strong. I still burn. I’ll burn you if you cross me. I might burn you anyway.
I am strong. I still burn. I’ll burn you if you cross me. I might burn you anyway.
He held himself back, jaw clenched, while Laurence ushered her into the salon where they’d been working. “Ms. Brand, please come in.”
Kaye entered, one hand loosening a scarf around her neck, the other clutching a heavy sack. She flushed when she spotted Jack, gaze to gaze, heartbeat to heartbeat, but then swallowed as she looked around the room and took in the other occupants.
Laurence put a hand to her elbow, drawing her farther inside. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you properly.”
Jack didn’t trust himself to get too close. He didn’t know what he’d do specifically, but it would embarrass everyone but him.
“You’re an angel,” Kaye said slowly, her posture going wary. “Where have I seen you before?”
Laurence nodded confirmation. “I was at your town house in Georgetown when you returned to collect your belongings. I was worried about Jacques, my old friend, who’d gone and fallen in love on the job.”
She flushed deeper. “Oh.” Her gaze found Jack’s again. Held. “Oh.”
“Please have a seat,” Laurence said. “I’ll get you some tea to warm you up.”
Tea wasn’t Kaye. “She takes coffee,” Jack said, looking into the Shadow in her eyes. “As sweet and creamy as you can make it.”
There. Her scent. Magic. He swayed on his feet toward her. If he took one step, he wouldn’t stop until he’d gotten her out of the state, the country. Farther.
She broke eye contact again. Found Laurence. Lifted a nice smile. “Thank you. If it’s not too much trouble, coffee would be lovely.” Then she slowly lowered herself into a chair, her drawstring bag at her feet. What was in it? Not her clothes. A truckload of those little bags might handle her wardrobe, but not one little bag. Good thing he’d taken care of that.
“So how’d we make out?” she asked.
“We got everything.” Jack moved to the sofa beside her. “We know what Grey will hit next—power hubs. He’s looking to go medieval for a while. Adam’s working on safeguards now.”
Adam still stared at the map.
But that wasn’t all they’d retrieved in Grey’s office. Not nearly. “And we know about Grey’s deeper networks. We are more careful than ever tracking our angels. We know who is accounted for, who is missing—and why. We know why the wraiths are stronger and smarter, and we know how Grey intends to use them. You’re done. You’ve done it all.”
She still gripped the cloth at the top of the sack, though the weight of it rested on the floor.
“This is good,” Jack told her. In case she didn’t get the point.
“My father’s alive.”
Jack was silenced, the room a vacuum.
“He sent these to his Little Match Girl.”
Little—?
He took the cloth from her grasp and opened it. Eleven tours on Earth, including one bloody annihilation of magekind’s power, and he’d never looked upon ward stones. Until now.
Gray and white, smooth and oval, this was old magic. Powerful magic, and rare among her kind. How could Jack tell her that he’d been among the host that fell upon the warder’s House and decimated that line so that there would be no more sanctuaries for Shadow?
And yet ... his blood pumped relief. Relief and treasure and miracles. He’d never believed until now. Miracles were for humanity, not angels. And he’d just been handed one.
“Ward stones,” he breathed. The foundation of a mage castle of her own.
Kaye could be protected, if only it was built in time. He’d build the fortress of safety around her that she’d once named him. She just needed land. He’d find her land.
“And there’s another faction of Houses,” she continued. “Less inclined to wage war on angels or humanity, I think, but very happy to reap the spoils.”
Jack’s head came up. He felt Adam and Layla’s attention narrow on Kaye’s news as well. He would not look at Laurence, who would counsel caution.
“I’ve been given instructions not to squander my position,” Kaye said, with an ironic kind of laugh in her voice. “Ten years and I’m right where my father has always wanted me.”
“No.” She was finished with magekind. He wouldn’t let her leave the room until she was convinced.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m way more selfish than he gives me credit for.” But she looked to the side, her expression full of thought. “I’ve been trying to remember that night.”
“What night—?” Jack was trying to follow.
“He carried me out of there, I think. He took me to a hospital. He made arrangements for my care. Why didn’t he come back for me? Why aren’t I part of this other faction of Houses?”
“Carried you out of where? Brand House?”
She nodded absently. “I’d wondered who did that, since I thought he was dead. Someone told me he was dead. But I can’t remember.”
“You were delirious, in and out of consciousness. How could you remember?” Laurence put a steaming mug before her. “We thought everyone was dead, which is what we told you. Michael asked that you live, so we did our best to save you and repair the damage done to your face.”
She looked at Laurence, eyes widening. “You ... ?”
When those black eyes of hers looked back in question at Jack, he confessed. “Your wedding would have been a key alliance among the Houses. We were sent to observe and listen. To learn what we could.”
“You were there too?”
“I was, yes, with a few others.” It had taken awhile to find her body when there were no thoughts to follow. When the house was on fire. “We couldn’t get inside the wards to save anyone else. Not even Michael.”
“What happened?” Her voice was gut raw.
He should have told her before. He should have told her the first day he met her. That he’d seen the damage to her face firsthand. That he’d been there the night Brand House burned.
“We were watching the house. I was concentrating on the thoughts of the kitchen staff. Someone important had arrived—”
“Zelda Grey,” Kaye said. “I was to marry Ferro by proxy.”
“We wondered how he’d survived.” Proxy. Romantic.
Jack felt Adam and Layla draw close to listen, forming an irregular circle.
“The thoughts in the kitchen flashed to terror; a wraith rampaging. A human life was lost in one quick moment, but the wraith passed over the others and left the house.”
“He was coming after me.”
Again, Jack saw the child she’d been in her eyes, as if some part of her had frozen in time while the rest of her grew up. That night was present in her every day; he could feel it himself in the isolation of her words.
“We heard sounds of a struggle in the woods, and then the house exploded into flame.” Everyone in the room could guess the source of the fire.
“It was me.” Her expression changed color. “I set my own House on fire when I found my umbra. I was the one who burned down Brand House.”
“It’s not your fault,” Jack said. “Grey sent the wraith after you. You found it within yourself to fight back. You were strong.”
“Umbra?” Layla murmured. Jack could feel her interest shift.
“A darkness within,” Laurence explained, as an aside. “Mages occasionally use the word as we do
soul
.”
soul
.”
Jack reached for Kaye, who’d gone inside herself to think, where he could not follow.
But Adam wasn’t satisfied with an aside. “I thought mages didn’t have souls.”
“They don’t,” Laurence said brusquely. “An umbra is the source of their power in mage cosmology, the intimate Shadow from which they draw.”
“But if she called upon a source of power, then there’s something there,” Adam argued. “They aren’t empty inside.”
“Not now,” Jack said through gritted teeth. Kaye seemed upset.
“Yes, now. My wife is sick over this no soul thing. Our boys. Do the fae, or the part fae have an umbra?”
“An umbra is not a soul,” Laurence said.
I’m sorry, Jack. I should’ve realized Adam would be angry.
I’m sorry, Jack. I should’ve realized Adam would be angry.
But Kaye’s eyes were shining like she finally understood something. She looked at Jack, really looked, and for some reason he was uneasy. “So it’s always been you. You got me out of there, took me to safety, and then returned me to magekind to save me all over again. You and you again, on both sides of my story. Is that Order?”
Jack’s heart was breaking. He’d never intended to save her. He wished he had. He liked her version better. Would he lie for it? Where was the Order in that? “I—.”
“My children have umbras, Shadow souls,” Adam said to Laurence. “How did we not know this? Even when I worked with The Order, why wasn’t I told?”
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