The Cat's Meow (17 page)

“I take it you have your magic?” I whispered, since I didn’t want to scare off the bird.

Kale glanced at me, still smiling. “It was just a simple spell that called him to me, but yes, I’m ready.” His voice was low and satisfied, and damn well pooled heat low in my body. “Come.”

I reached out and rubbed the soft feathers of the eagle on his chest. He extended his wings, sending a wave of air onto my face, and I laughed. “He’s very beautiful.”

“Indeed.” Kale tipped his wand to the rune and traced the design backward. A blast of wind rushed around me, raising even more goose bumps. The eagle took flight as bright blue flames mixed with purple lit up the rune, and then vanished with a loud sizzle.

“Wow.” My awe lifted my voice an octave. “I’m impressed.”

He winked. “Glad I don’t disappoint.” He squatted again and drew a diamond-shaped rune in haste, and then looked at me. Goddess, did those eyes burn with desire.

I swallowed, unable to do anything else, as he took measured steps toward me, his features tightening with each step. As he settled in very close to me, I angled my head to look at him. In this position, he looked much taller, much more impressive. He lifted a hand to my chin and tilted my head back, straining my neck.

“What do you know of me?” he asked.

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

His eyes positively glowed. “Tell me your opinion of me.”

Well, this was…odd. I attempted to think straight, or figure out what the hell he was going on about. But then I realized he was serious, so I indulged him. “You’re loyal to a good cause, strong, and arrogant.”

I thought that would get a response, maybe a wink, yet his stern look never faded. “You seem to have a tender side that’s hidden behind haughtiness.” I remembered his soft touches, even though none were found now—his hold remained tight on my chin. “From what I’ve seen of you, you have a warm caring heart and want to do what’s right, but can kick some serious ass.”

He nodded, his eyes focused and intent. “Yes, that’s me, Libby.” He tipped his head down and brought his face closer to mine. “Just a warlock of those qualities.”

My breath seemed to be gone, as did my ability to think straight. “Kale, you’ve lost me.”

His hand slid over my face to cup the side of my neck. “This is to remind you of what it feels like to be close to me.” His fierce gaze branded me with his passion, so packed full of emotion. “I hope it’s enough, no matter how angry you are, that you’ll remember the connection we have.” The side of his mouth turned up. “A connection you’ve tried hard to pretend doesn’t exist.”

He yanked me against him with a firm hand on my lower back, trapping me in his hold. Before I could catch up, his lips sealed over mine. He kissed me as if he were about to die—somehow mournful and sad—yet also focused, powerful, and his lust hit me like a burst of flames.

Dream Kale was no comparison to the real thing; his lips were firm, yet tender. He licked his tongue across my lip in invitation and I opened for him, lost in the confident way of his mouth. He pinned me with his hands, holding me close, and I squirmed against his hardened length along my stomach. This kiss I couldn’t run from, nor from the promise of what could follow if I allowed it.

Kale wasn’t a warlock who lacked confidence; his kisses were full of enough purpose to drop me to my knees, and dammit, I wanted to do exactly that. Each brush of his lips against mine and the swirl of our tongues set me on fire, leaving me yearning for more.

By the time he drew away, I panted. He rested his forehead on mine, a little breathless, too. “It’s been painful to keep you at a distance.”

He’d never sounded so torn, as if it’d been eating at him not to touch me and now his world had been aligned. In his arms, I found comfort, and being touched by him didn’t raise alarms, but warmed me in intimate places. This, with him, was right.

But then, why was it so wrong?

He finally straightened and ran his hand from my nape to my mouth, where he brushed his thumb over my parted lips. His smile was the gentlest I’d ever seen from him, and in his features was the honesty I couldn’t ignore. He exhaled and his eyes became troubled. “I hope you can forgive me.”

I gulped. “Forgive you for what?”

He aimed his wand at the rune and said in a firm voice, “Ingwaz, ingwaz, ingwaz.”

His chant was the last thing I heard before a blast of wind roared around me and sheer panic made my blood ice cold. Kale’s hand tightened around my face, darkness overtook me, and then I tumbled into a bottomless pit.

Chapter Sixteen

The world did a full somersault around me and fear gripped me as I plummeted into blackness. I screamed, but then my feet hit solid ground. My stomach clenched, ready to bring up the omelet. I snapped my eyes open, fighting off the sickness, and grass was beneath my shoes. After a quick glance I realized I now stood by the main gates to the cemetery.

“You’re safe, Libby,” Kale murmured.

“Safe?” I shouted, shoving him away. “Oh, thank the Goddess, I’m not dead.” I ran my hands over my arms to make sure my body parts were still attached. “What the hell was that?”

Kale’s eyes were shadowed. “A quicker way to travel.”

“Prepare someone when you plan to teleport them.” I thought Kale had killed me. Hell, I’d never teleported before and my stomach took a hit. I parted my lips to deliver another round of insults when a gush of wind soared around me and clamped my mouth shut.

When the breeze quieted, I discovered we were no longer alone. On instinct, and maybe because my mind still spun with serious worries, I wound up and punched the closest man to me. His crystal blue eyes widened as he looked to where my hand hit his chest, and then his eyebrows rose.

“What is wrong with you?” I growled at the four men dressed in complete black, which included Kale. “You don’t just poof around someone and not warn them. Do you have no manners?”

The man I hit chuckled. His eyes crinkled and his full lips turned up into a glorious smile, lightening his stern features. He ran a hand through his black, gelled hair, and gestured toward Kale. “You
are
amusing, as he’s said.”

When I looked at Kale, his jaw clenched. Was that worry in his gaze? I narrowed my eyes—something was amiss, besides the fact that I’d been teleported. I focused back on the other warlock. “And you would be?”

He bowed. “I am High Priest Alistair.”

Oh, Goddess…I hit him.

More importantly, I now realized I had read into the Alchemy’s “arrival” wrong. Kale had said the Alchemy would come to help us, as did my mother, but I thought they meant the Sentinels. Holy shit, the High Priests themselves had come to deal with the rebellion.

My heart skipped a beat, my mouth went dry, and my concerns doubled. In all truth, without the
High Priest
added to his name I wouldn’t have recognized him. The Priests’ lives were dangerous, and once I turned eight years old, I gave up on the attempt to keep up with who was in power since death brought new leaders…often. And, well, they were warlocks and I never bothered with them.

“Hi,” I managed.

“Hi,” Alistair replied.

The High Priests were filled with profound power and such a simple word sounded foolish from his mouth. I so did not expect the High Priests to be here, and damn
,
I was so out of my element.

Alistair pointed to the blond, tall, thin warlock on his left. “High Priest Daryen.” Then to his right, to the High Priest with the shoulder-length auburn hair, dark skin, and equally dark eyes. “High Priest Gregor.”

I nodded at the introductions, because my voice was stuck in my ashamed throat.

I decked a High Priest.

Oh, if my mother knew, no protection spell would save me from her wrath.

“Are you convinced?” Kale asked, tight with tension.

Alistair examined me for a long moment and I swallowed deeply, and then he gave Kale a firm nod. “You’ve said the spells have worked, and Magdalene confirmed the gifts, so yes, we’re in agreement.”

Kale sighed, as if relieved.

While my mind raced to catch up with what that meant, I was still stuck on their presence. Where were the Sentinels? Then again…who cared? “Good, you’re here, and you can deal with this.” The Sentinels were good, but the High Priests themselves would clear these grounds in a single breath, meaning I could go to Peyton’s and wait this out.

Alistair shook his head. “We need you tonight—your strength can aid us with this matter.”

“Why?” I had to ask.

These were the strongest warlocks in the world and I had no doubt they could handle this without me. Sure, those spells helped me some, but compared to these warlocks…I was just one little ol’ witch.

Alistair smiled, and it was friendly. “Because you’re gifted, just as High Priest Kale has said. Those spells were given to you to raise your powers, and now that we’ve confirmed you can use them, they’re not to be wasted. This threat is a grave one.”

Oh yeah, I heard all of what he said, and realized the reason Magdalene had given me the spells wasn’t just a kind gesture, but only one thing concerned me now. The rest I could deal with later.

I slowly turned to Kale. “High Priest?” At his nod, and nearly black eyes now, I shook my head to slow the spinning. This was so
not
anything I could’ve imagined. I thought he was a Sentinel, but oh no, all this time he was a High Priest of the fucking Alchemy!

Goddess, I didn’t just punch one High Priest, but I’d poked Kale in the chest, shoved him to the ground, snapped at him…and
kissed him
! “Why did you keep this from me?” I couldn’t hide the accusation in my voice—I didn’t understand his reasons, not one little bit.

Kale sighed, but it was Alistair who answered, “We apologize that you’ve been dragged into Alchemy matters. It wasn’t our intention, but fate has chosen your path.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off Kale, or the concern flooding his features, but I couldn’t wrap my head around his motivation. Why would I need to forgive him for being a High Priest? There wasn’t anything to be forgiven for. Hell, I would’ve loved to have known who he was since it only meant my ass was safer.

Why would he not have told me?

It did make sense, though, why Jace knew Kale and why Mom all of a sudden trusted him. She must’ve known on the phone who he was, but why wouldn’t she tell me either? Whomever she had keep an eye on me had been given an order from Glenda not to tell my mother of Kale’s real identity. Without a doubt, my mother would’ve refused to lie to me. But then, why once she knew had she kept it a secret? Why had the High Priests ordered the coven’s silence? There had to be an underlying reason behind why I couldn’t know about his
real
role in the magical world…and that worried me.

My mouth parted to unleash the confusion burning in my veins, but Alistair interjected, “While you are owed an explanation, now is not the time. We need to deal with this matter. The conversation will have to wait.”

“Oh, hell no, you
will
tell me now,” I spat.

Kale sighed. “He’s right, Libby, we must finish this.”

Personally, I’d rather tell these warlocks to shove something up their magical butts and piss off, but sadly, that wasn’t an option. Baal and the rebellion were more important than my hissy fit. Besides, I couldn’t refuse an order from my coven, and that vow was even more firm with the Alchemy. For now, my own frustrations would have to wait.

“Fine.” I sneered at Kale. “But you will tell me the truth later—all of it.”

He inclined his head. “Soon, I can.”

Once again, that honesty appeared in the depths of his eyes. The reaction I wished I’d seen more often, but right now infuriated me because I was at a complete loss as to why he had remained quiet about who he was.

The High Priests strode off, and Kale finally took his steely eyes off me and followed behind. I inhaled to recover, refocus, and recommit to the task at hand. Even though I was more confused than when I woke up earlier, and shocked, I headed out on a mission to fight alongside the High Priests. This was going to happen and nothing I did would change it, even if I truly didn’t understand why they needed me now.

I hurried after them as they reached the entrance to the cemetery and passed through the gates. The night had settled in at some point during our talk, yet I hadn’t realized it. Now the cloudy sky made it almost pitch black in the cemetery. The tombstones close to me were visible, but the rest of the cemetery was in shadows.

“It’s too quiet here,” Kale stated.

I tilted my head and listened, and had to agree. For a group of warlocks who planned to summon a Prince of Hell, it was too silent. “Something isn’t right,” I whispered under my breath and icy fingertips crawled along my spine.

Kale stopped, turned to me, and pointed to a large tombstone. “Wait there.”

“Come again?” I retorted. “Didn’t Alistair just say I needed to go with you?”

He shook his head. “You don’t need to be right in the center of the battle. You can work your magic from a distance. Go there.”

My lips pursed as all the High Priests skidded to a halt and looked at me. “Kale…”

He pointed to the spot again, eyes sizzling with power, and his voice sharpened. “Libby. There. Now.”

While under normal circumstances I’d tell Kale to stuff it because he was ordering me around, things had changed, hadn’t they? He wasn’t a random warlock and his authority over me was huge. I narrowed my eyes on him, cursed, and stepped next to the tombstone. Not to say I didn’t mind being on the sidelines and not in the heart of danger.

“Stay hidden. Stay safe,” Kale ordered.

His tone was harsh, but his expression wasn’t. It was soft and concerned, and I was affected by how he looked at me now. To my annoyance, before my brain had a chance to catch up with my mouth, I blurted out, “You be safe, too.”

He nodded at me, a little smile curving his mouth, and then with his wand still in hand, he spun on his heels. His posture was focused and intent on the kill. From being there before, I knew the tomb was only a short distance away, but it was so dark I couldn’t see it. I barely made out the men in front of me, and the silence was discouraging. Each step they took made my heart race.

Something seemed off—all types of wrong.

A sudden flash of light erupted in front of me, casting a white glow over the cemetery. I squinted against the brightness of it and shielded my eyes with my hand.

Another flare went off.

Still silence.

A loud hiss, a bang, and a burst of while light surrounded the tomb, making it glow. Large orbs floated around the tomb, putting Kale and the others in plain view, as well as the fifty or so warlocks who stood by the tomb.

My heart leaped into my throat. I didn’t doubt the High Priests could take the warlocks out. Only problem? The five demons standing next to the warlock who appeared to be the ringleader. It all became clear. They weren’t only summoning demons for higher power, they summoned the demons to fight alongside them, and the Goddess awakened inside me so intense it hurt—my blood felt too hot for my body.

I tightened my fingers into the grass beneath me, and fear made sweat coat my skin. The High Priests didn’t appear to share my concern—they spread out like brave warriors. In the face of danger these men didn’t run, they retaliated.

“You will cease your actions tonight,” Kale said, his voice echoing across the cemetery.

The leader who stood in the center of the demons stared the High Priests down. His dark eyes were fearless. “Tonight you will fall.”

All four of the High Priests’ postures tightened, but it was Alistair who called, “Declare your purpose.”

The lead warlock wasn’t familiar to me, but most of the warlocks present weren’t, except a few I’d seen at The Wicked Lair. Bryon must’ve been right—they were probably not from Charleston, but had gathered to summon Baal.

A slow smile crossed the leader warlock’s face, dark and sinister. The wind picked up as he muttered a spell, and then black smoke rose up from his feet, swirling around him, encasing his thin frame.

Once the smoke ceased, I blinked, hoping the view in front of me was wrong.

Sadly, it wasn’t.

“Bryon,” Kale spat.

He smiled a malicious grin, making my blood run cold. “Had your chance to kill me, didn’t you? Foolish.”

I could only gawk at him. Bryon was behind this? How was that even possible? No doubt he’d gathered a glamour spell to hide his appearance, but why go to those extremes? But as I stared into his ominous eyes, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. We had been played by Bryon as much as Kale had played me.

“Ah yes, Libby,” Bryon said in a dark voice, now focused on me. “I see your mind piecing it all together. Wasn’t it a surprise to hear a High Priest was coming to Charleston to seek out a witch?” His smile widened. “Even more interesting, he came to find
you.
It didn’t take long to see what you’d been up to these past years since I’d left, who your contacts were, and didn’t it all fall perfectly into place?”

I stared, dumfounded, and couldn’t even blink. Just as Kale had asked me the very same question about a snitch, Bryon had considered it, too. I wondered how many others in Charleston he planted the lies with besides Edwin. But he wasn’t wrong; I went right to Edwin because I suspected he’d know what was going on.

And Edwin had told me exactly what Bryon had wanted him to, hadn’t he?

My mouth had fallen open somewhere during his speech and I found myself so shocked I had no words. Hadn’t I learned my lesson long ago that Bryon would screw me over? He knew I wouldn’t allow Kale to destroy him that night. Rage boiled inside and I shot up from behind the tomb, stepping away from the spot I hid.

Kale’s eyes narrowed. I was refusing a direct order from a High Priest, but my silence couldn’t be contained. “But you led us right to you. You wanted us to find you? That makes no sense.”

Bryon smirked. “It makes perfect sense.”

Kale’s fist tightened and he inhaled a sharp breath. “You drew us here for the attack.”

Like a snap of fingers I now understood.
“The plan has come together. They’ve come.”
The warlock—Bryon, as it appeared—stated that last night. At the time I didn’t understand, but Goddess, he had been talking about me and Kale being there and discovering their location.

Bryon had told us their whereabouts so we’d come tonight. They never intended to summon Baal—they didn’t need to—and he wanted the High Priests cornered. Holy shit, he succeeded.

Even I could see the brilliance of the plan. No way would anyone get all the High Priests to one location without the Sentinels. But with all the killings going on around the United States, especially in New Orleans—the Alchemy’s city—everyone was dispersed. That explained why the Sentinels hadn’t come to Charleston and the High Priests had come instead. Bryon hid his plans so well no one had realized the threat. Never giving too much information to make it too easy, but just enough to do what he wanted. The worst part was, I led the High Priests here—I brought them to their very deaths.