Sally's late modelforeign SUV is in the coven's driveway, but no one answers when I ring thebell. Or when I bang and shout. Fine. No matter. What I'm here for isnât in thehouse anyway.
"Grab theshovel, Princess."
"You get theshovel. I need the salt."
Contradicting myorders while still on probation is not a good move. Sheâs new, though, so Idonât snarl. Much. "Grab. The.Damn. Shovel."
Fortunately, for her,I can't make out what she mutters under her breath. She grabs the shovel aswell as the salt and scurries back like a good little pack member. The gateleading to the rear of the house is wooden. Not very secure. I'm just pissedenough at Sally to want to kick it in.
"I wouldn't dothat if I were you," Princess says seconds before the sole of my bootmakes contact with Sally's crappy gate.
"Why not?"
She drops to herknees next to me and dips her right hand into the Ziploc bag of salt."Because your foot'll fall off." She stares up at me with anexpression that clearly indicates she thinks I'm an idiot. "Sally's awitch. Perimeter boundaries are warded."
Does she think thisis my first run-in with witches? "I can handle wards."
"You can handlepuny wards put up by amateurs with an all-purpose spell and a bit of sage. Thisis a professional warding. Around the Coven's garden. Trust me, it'll turn yourmanly hairy calf into ash."
It grates, but she'sthe magic expert. Time for her to start proving she's worth all the trouble."Fine, but if you burn your hand off, don't come crying to me."
I catch a quick eyeroll as she turns back to the gate. Oh, sweetheart, tomorrow morning is goingto be so painful for you. I was going to have her jog with Ike and Hank, but itlooks like she'll be joining Greta's morning run.
Az presses asalt-coated palm against the gate. "Don't try this on your own. The saltjust protects my skin. I have to drain the magic out of the ward."
Aw hell. Just when Igot the non-psycho version, too. "How far back is this going to setyou?"
"Shouldn't setme back at all, Rick. My defenses are the best. When they're up, that is."She shrugs and closes her eyes. The gate glows a bright orange for a momentbefore returning to normal. "Plus, I have pretty deep reserves. This isnothing."
She rises and shakesthe salt off her hand. There are a few blisters on the tips of her fingers, butshe doesn't complain. Good. You have to be tough to keep up with the pack. Shesteps back and bows dramatically. "You may proceed with the destruction ofprivate property."
The gate explodesinward with one well-placed kick. Sally put way too much confidence in herwards. Splinters of painted wood litter the entrance to the garden. The hingeshang limply from the cracked wooden post. If Sally wasn't a toxin-growing,crazy- witch-harboring, lying bitch I would offer to set her up with a sweetsecurity fence and monitoring system.
Two steps into thecoven's garden, Az grabs the back of my shirt and yanks. She's stronger thanshe looks, but she doesn't have what it takes to stop me in my tracks. Thereare few who do.
"Whoa,cowboy."
"What? No suchthing as second thoughts. I don't care if she is one of your daddy's puppets,no one raises wolfsbane in my territory."
"You're close.Not second thoughts. Secondary wards. Illusionary wards." She lets out ahum of appreciation. "Sly Sally. Very sly."
She tosses out ahandful of salt. What had looked like a brick walkway shimmers for a fewseconds before revealing itself to be a branch-covered ditch. The damn thinghas to be seven feet deep and the walls are smooth as granite. Fucking witches.
"We should havebrought more salt," I say.
Az links her fingerswith mine. Her hand feels tiny and fragile as crystal in mine. I try todisengage, but she has the tenacity of an octopus. She darts in front of me."I should be enough to break the illusions. Just watch your step."
Just fucking great. Ihave to use the fairy princess as a shield. Wonderful way to start the morning."She'll have the wolfsbane in the center where the scent will be coveredby the other plants."
"Verygood," she says, managing to sound just like my kindergarten teacher whenI'd shown up to school with tied laces and not Velcro shoes.
I don't know magic aswell as she does, but you can bet your ass I know everything there is to knowabout the things that can kill me. Every Shifter in my pack has gone throughsessions on wolfsbane identification and survival. It's painful as hell when itmakes contact with your skin, but it's not lethal. In small doses, ingestiondoesn't always mean instant death, either. It does, however, mean you're goingto be one sick son of a bitch for a long, long time.
The wolfsbane isright where I said it would be. Bracketed by gardenias, sage, rosemary, andchamomile, it looks harmless. It isn't until I'm two rows away that I can smellit. Flinching from the distinctive odor is pure instinct.
"Brazen bitchdidn't even bother to hide it."
Azâs laughter floatson the wind. "Sure she did. See." She lets go of my hand and skips tothe oak tree twenty feet from the wolfsbane. The wolfsbane disappears and acrop of chives takes its place. Sally, Sally, Sally.
"Get backhere."
"What did shemake it look like? The illusion isn't as strong as the wards, so I don't get tosee the illusion."
"Chives."
"
.Onions. I'd rather eat wolfsbane."
"Because youaren't a Shifter."
"I think I'dstill pick the wolfsbane." She plants the shovel in the soil near thewolfsbane. "The Matrons at the House of the Crystal Moon onions. I had to eat onion soup twice a day for three months straight. Withtoast and chive-butter. Roasted Vidalia as a side dish. Onion bagels forbreakfast. I picked fights with the Matrons just so I could be put on bread andwater rations."
"Is that whereyou were in Minnesota?"
She blinks up at me."No. The House of the Crystal Moon is in Michigan. I was seven."
Who puts aseven-year-old on bread and water rations? For that matter, who in the helltries to make a seven-year-old eat nothing but onion soup? My momma didn't givea crap about me, which sucked most of the time, but at least she didn't try todictate what I ate. A bowl of Oreos coated with chocolate milk makes anexcellent breakfast, for the record.
I uproot every traceof wolfsbane. Princess stuffs the plants in a heavy trash bag. I'll dispose ofthe stuff somewhere safe. Someplace where double-crossing witches can't locatethe ashes to use as a water-soluble poison. Since she isn't half as sweaty as Iam, I instruct her to salt the churned soil. If I'm lucky, it'll rain tonightlike Marina Reyes at Channel 2 predicted and the coven's garden won't be worthshit.
Sally, dressed in a matronlyblack dress and granny shawl, appears like a ghost near the gate. The handsgripping the shawl are paler, bonier than I remember. "You aretrespassing."
"Call thecops."
Her lips pinchtogether. She looks like she guzzled a glass of unsweetened lemonade. Prissybitch. "That is unnecessary. I do not need authorities tohelp me defend my property."
The challenge in theinsignificant witch's tone makes the muscles along the back of my neck itch.The growl that rumbles in my chest is one that makes my pack mates cringe andhide. It takes real effort to keep my claws and fangs at bay. Sally, bless herstupid heart, stands her ground and glares at me. That's fine, witch. I don'tmind playing with my food.
"You're right,Sally, I think we should keep this just between the two of us."
I'm easily threetimes Sally's size. I stalk forward, slow and easy. No need to rush this. Thelonger the chase, the more satisfying the catch. She backs up until she hitsthe fence. Sweet panic flashes in her eyes as she realizes she's trapped. Herfear makes my mouth water.
"What were yougoing to use the wolfsbane for, Sally? You planning on making a move against mypack? Keeping us in line like good little pets? Murdering us in oursleep?"
Killing her would beeasy. I wouldn't even need to Shift. Just a quick twist of her twig-thin neckand no more pain-in-the-ass Sally. That won't solve my witch problemcompletely. You kill one head of a coven and another power-greedy witch pops upto take her place.
Sally tosses a spellat me. I brace myself for a stunning curse or pain spell. The magic that burstsacross my face is nothing more than a warm puff of air. A small, hot handsettles on my bicep. You know, having a personal spell-negator may just come inhandy.
"Hiya,Sally," Princess chirps with all the peppiness of a cheerleader on gameday. She slides into the sliver of space separating me from the witch."Hope you don't mind, but we did a little gardening for you."
"And if I domind?"
Az plants her feet,stands a little straighter. The pep in her voice turns to frost. "Well,that's fine. Perfectly within your rights, of course." She gives Sallythat damn half-shrug that drives me batty. "You can file a complaint withmy father. If you do that, though, I'll have no choice but to give him a accounting of my time here in Houston."
Sally pales evenfurther. She's white as paper and visibly trembling. "Fullaccounting?"
"Yep. Includinghow you had a witch you couldn't control. One stealing from you and practicingdark magic. Normally he wouldn't care much about the illegal wolfsbane, but thefact that you got caught? Naughty, naughty. You know how the Council is aboutappearances."
It's a good threat.I've heard horror stories about what the Council does to witches who step intothe spotlight. The Mages like to keep the true depths of their power hiddenfrom the public. They keep the Matrons on a short leash and expect the Matronsto do the same with their witches.
Sally doesn't knowthat Vardan wants nothing to do with Az. She'll be too afraid of him, of whathe'll do with Azâs report, to mention any of this to him. It's perfect.
"I won't tellthe Mage about this⦠incident⦠if you won't," Sally concedes.
Azponders it for a moment. Watching Sally sweat and squirm is a nice littlepresent. Maybe I'll let Az off with an early morning jog, after all.
"Okay," sheagrees merrily. Before Sally can sigh with relief, Az leans forward so that sheis less than an inch from Sally's face. "But this isn't the last timeyou'll see me."
"What do youmean?" Now that she feels like she's on even footing, Sally reverts todefiance. A quick flash of fang knocks her down a peg.
"I am afraidthat the issues with your coven are symptomatic of a much larger problem. Thelack of a formal Council presence in this city has allowed its witches too much leeway. Too muchfreedom. Enough independence that you start thinking the rules don't apply toyou." Az laughs as she leans back. "So I'll be back to check on you.Make sure you aren't trying to poison my new friends. Ensure that you have yourwitches under control."
We leave Sally huddledagainst the fence. I lock the bag of wolfsbane in the toolbox in the back of mytruck. Az hums to herself as she buckles her seatbelt. She reaches for theradio but pulls her hand back before she can change it from the classic rockstation. Good. I hate having to slap hands twice.
"So," shedrawls, long and slow. She drags her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on."That could come back to bite us later."
"I can handleSally." That she thinks I can't is more than a little emasculating. I wasdoing just fine before she barged in. I've dealt with witches for decadeswithout having to hide behind anyone.
"It's not SallyI'm worried about it. Witches talk. Gossip. It won't take long for word of thisto get around."
"Just a matterof time before Daddy hears and comes gunning for you. This isn't what heintended when he brought you here." Just what I need: the Mage of NewOrleans coming after me for reneging on our deal. As if things aren't alreadycomplicated enough.
"Eh," shesays, plucking at the hem of her jeans. "Dad and I were always meant to goboom. This may be the catalyst. Not what I was worried about. You make an enemyof one coven, you might as well make an enemy of all of them. Witches'll stabeach other in the back no problem, but heaven help the person who messes withone of them."
Her father didn't payme enough. In the week that I've known Ms. Astraea Vardan, I have been nearlykilled by a crazy-ass witch, had my entire household turned upside down,discovered that someone I thought was a friend was harboring wolfsbane, wasnearly devoured by a succubus, and burned every bridge I had with the witchcommunity. The girl's an overachiever, I'll give her that.
"Will theCouncil retaliate?" I have to ask because having the Council on my asswould be the rotten cherry atop this shit sundae.
"No. Maybe. Idunno." She flashes me a blinding smile that does absolutely nothing toreassure me that we're not headed for an all-out war. "I hate the Council.Always have. Bunch of whiny, greedy, self-centered jackasses. Smile to yourface while they drive the dagger straight in your kidney. Uncle Evan, the Mageof St. Louis, is the only one I can actually stand. Don't you hate them,too?"
Honestly, I try notto give them much thought at all. As long as they stay out of Shifter business,I really don't care what that bunch of ninnies does. Still, it's better toagree with her than start an argument.
"Sure, Princess.With the passion of a thousand fiery suns."
"Good," shesays with a wild grin that sends a shiver down my spine. Girl's crazy. No doubtabout it. "That's good."