Chapter 10: Magic and Mayhem

SERAPHINA

Three days had passed since Jack’s funeral, and I was making no progress in my endeavors. Discovering who had shot Garrick was proving to be a complex task. Damien had only grazed the gunman, leaving a cold, bloody trail.

The hard-packed ice made footprints impossible to track. This was just the beginning of my proverbial snowball of disappointments.

Trying to tap into any trace of magic in my spare time was proving impossible. Any small grasp I had was nothing compared to healing Garrick. It was enough to drive any sane person a little mad.

It was like holding onto a live wire that seemed to dissipate any time I tried to use it. The Umbra Aurorae still had no answers for me, which left me in an even fouler mood.

The idea of leaving Jack’s empire behind was becoming almost too appealing amidst the frustrations that seemed to suffocate me each time I laid my head down. Without answers, though, I would regret not at least confronting Aleksandr head-on with my accusations.

The very idea, let alone the action, was likely a suicide mission. No matter how many armed men I might bring, Aleksandr was something else. What he was, Jack had never elaborated on, but whatever it was, he certainly wasn’t human enough to face head-on.

Life seemed a little too complicated. My coffee cup was my only companion, and the numbers on the paper in front of me were starting to blur. I rubbed my temples, trying to clear my head, and sighed as I drained the last of my coffee.

I was trying to shake off this feeling of displacement, wondering where I belonged. Sleep had been elusive for the past sixty hours. There were too many things to deal with, even after the attempt on my life.

I was also avoiding the nightmares that were waiting for me, ready to pounce as soon as my head hit the pillow. I traded cool sheets for dim lights and peaceful meditation upright. This was the only rest I was giving myself, while also searching for something larger than myself in Jack’s study.

The phone ringing on our private line startled me. I wondered if I had been awake or asleep as I reached for the phone. I was suddenly alert since no one had told me about an incoming call.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Is this Seraphina Blair? Is Jack Blair available?”

“This is her,” I said, my heart sinking as I realized I would have to explain Jack’s death yet again. It felt as if this explanation was never-ending. The grief hit me softer each time, yet it was still a heavy blanket.

“We buried Jack about three days ago,” I explained.

There was a pause on the other line, followed by an insincere, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m Danika Willowspade, of the Nightshade Coven. I just had some questions and concerns that I’m afraid I’ll have to discuss with you since your husband isn’t available. If you have the time?”

The mention of the Circle of Nightshade shook me. The Circle of Nightshade was a coven Jack had often talked about when he was trying to find answers about the orb. Their High Priestess, Raven Lidia Madera, was said to be one of the most powerful seers in centuries.

There were rumors that she had an actual goddess whispering in her ear after working with the Witch Queen Delilah. Raven’s eyes were as white as snow, but her soul was as black as night. Her coven worshipped dark goddesses of their choosing.

Rumors of dark sacrificial rituals were something they regularly performed in the depths of their halls. Jack had always said that if anyone knew where the orb of Demeter was, it was Raven and her coven of wretches that tore apart rats as fast as they’d eat your heart for answers.

The Circle of Nightshade had always told him it was too dangerous to pursue the orb. My stomach churned with butterflies, wondering what I could possibly do for them now that he was dead.

“I’ve sent you a picture. Did you receive it?” Danika asked.

I pulled the phone from my ear, opening the mail icon from the number that had called. I looked at the screen and recognized a mural of the Four Horsemen.

“It’s…a painting? Of the biblical end of times?” I said.

Danika cleared her throat over the phone, her tone serious. “Are you aware of who Wrath is in this depiction? What his appearance would mean?”

I sensed this was some sort of scare tactic, though what kind I wasn’t exactly sure. “He’s the end-bringer when he appears on this side. The Blue Star Kachina, War—”

“Good. So you are at least aware that his presence would be an ill omen,” she said. “As would the person responsible for his appearance if he were to meddle within a world he was not supposed to have stepped foot in. Would you happen to know anything about that, Miss Blair?”

The hair on the back of my neck prickled. A tingle of hot and cold coursed through my body. I wondered if she were referring to me.

“I’m sorry, Danika, I’m not sure what you’re referring to,” I said. “Unlike my husband, I don’t have that sort of connection with the other side. You’ll need to talk to the coven leader Elis for anything magical my husband was involved with.”

“This matter would be too close to home for your coven to help with, Seraphina,” Danika replied, dropping her formality since I hadn’t bothered to address her as such. “Let me be more frank then, since you’re unsure of his inner workings. You can’t be a complete moron or miss something this obvious.”

“Have you seen a cat? A black one with strange eyes hovering about?”

“A…cat?” I said slowly. My mind misfired at the strange question. I wondered what a cat had to do with anything.

“A cait sith or cat sí, to be exact. They look like a cat, but they will sometimes talk to particular humans.”

“Now I’m confused. You were just talking about Wrath—not a…cat with fairy wings? Isn’t that a cait sith?”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re picturing, but you clearly don’t know your Scottish lore if you think that’s what a cait sith is,” Danika replied with a small sigh over the phone. I wondered if she was as frustrated with this call as I was.

“Well, no, I can’t really say I’ve seen any cats,” I said, before realizing I was lying. There had been one. It was the first time I had felt magic in a very long time, right before I had followed Aleksandr down to the crypts.

It looked a lot like the one I fed on a regular basis out back. Not that it really mattered. A stray was just a stray. It didn’t mean anything.

Danika seemed to change tactics. “Jack was looking for the orb of Demeter. But he wasn’t looking for it on earth. Did you at least know about that? That the orb, or eye, he was looking for is beyond the reach of ordinary mortals?”

It was a desperate question. As if she were deeply fishing.

~The realm of the gods. The plane of existence beyond the mirror.~

~Where I had come from.~

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can help you,” I replied, trying to keep my voice even. I hoped I didn’t sound nervous.

“I knew Jack was after an orb, but as far as I was aware he was still searching for it. He was pretty angry that you guys wouldn’t cooperate with him. He ranted about it for months.”

Danika sighed over the phone with disappointment, pausing long enough to make me wonder if she was wondering what to say. Or if she didn’t believe me.

Either way, it’s not as if she could know if I were truly lying.

“If your husband was successful, it needs to go back where it came from, and the only one strong enough to do that is the Witch Queen. If you see a cat, or something seems out of sorts, keep this number handy and call this line again. I’ll answer, or someone from the coven will.”

I frowned at her words, trying not to swallow too loudly. “The first instance, I will,” I vowed, lying through my teeth.

Even though I had contacted Delilah once, I didn’t want to again. People with power have a tendency to misuse it, and often not for the greater good.

Jack was also doubtful about the extent of Delilah’s power, and our coven did things that the New Moon Pack would definitely not approve of to help others. Things that defied what Delilah might see as the natural order. As many witches might.

Moreover, Jack had accomplished something that the Witch Queen or anyone before him could only dream of. He had pulled a person from another world.

I agreed with him that this feat alone showed her limitations; even though it had almost cost me my life.

If there were people trapped in another world, why hadn’t the Witch Queen tried to save them? Did she even know they existed?

Did she even care?

The current Witch Queen could only boast about destroying half of the Eastern Coven Dar’Noktun, including their leader, Odira. She crowned herself in the eyes of the community, a move many found ostentatious since it had been over the corpses of her enemies.

“If the orb is missing from its resting place, it would have been Jack’s coven who took it,” I began to explain. “I can give you their contact information if you want to ask them—”

“No,” she replied curtly. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch if Jack did. If he didn’t, as you said, and is still looking for the orb, this has nothing to do with you or him. Nor anyone close to you. Have a good evening, Miss Blair.”

The line went dead.