Dead Man's Deal Part 10

Tomorrow, grief would be replaced by boiling rage. The creatures with shorter life spans, shorter memories, would shake their fists in the air and call for arms against the Towers, regardless of the fact that they didn't know where to go to strike at their enemy. Regardless of the fact that they didn't have a hope in the world of winning.

I was angry for all the lives that had been senselessly wiped out in a matter of seconds by a handful of witches and warlocks. I was angry for all the years of violence and bloodshed. But more so, I was afraid. I was afraid for the people of this world if we were forced to go to war again. And a bit selfishly, I was afraid for myself.

Despite my petty claims of leaving the Towers and turning my back on that lot, I was still a warlock. If we went to war, I wouldn't side with the Towers, but what could one warlock-in-training do against them? And would the rest of the world even welcome my help if we went to war?

No. This had to be stopped before it came to that. The mess with the Towers had to be sorted out before anyone else had to pay the price.

10.

A BAD FEELING followed me back to my apartment that night, making me grateful that I picked up a few items from my secret h.o.a.rd in the parlor's bas.e.m.e.nt. Along with my wand, I grabbed some colored chalk, a couple crystals, and a handful of various herbs. I didn't know when Sofie was getting to my apartment and I definitely didn't know if or when Gideon was going to show up. In the meantime, I needed to be protected.

It didn't help that the number of people who knew my dirty little secret was growing due to my recent a.s.sociation with Reave. I couldn't trust his flunkies to keep their mouths shut. While the unwashed ma.s.ses might not know where to find the Towers, my aging apartment building, less than twenty minutes from my tattoo parlor, wasn't difficult to locate.

Before reaching my place, I stopped at a gas station and bought a small bag of sunflower seeds. Breaking open the bag, I scattered the seeds outside my front door. My landlady wasn't going to be pleased if I didn't vacuum up the mess the next morning, but at least I was protected against a bunch of OCD vampires for the night.

My stomach twisted as I discovered that my apartment was empty. There was no note and no text telling me when Robert had left, where he'd gone, or when he'd get back. a.s.shole. How the h.e.l.l was I supposed to protect him if I couldn't f.u.c.king find him? He'd mentioned something about getting clothes from his place, but I'd expected him to have done it in the afternoon. Unfortunately, I couldn't wait. I needed to protect the apartment.

As soon as the dead bolt slid home, I grabbed a piece of chalk out of my pocket and drew a series of symbols on the plain wood door and along the doorjamb. Each symbol briefly flared to life and then faded again as the protective wards were locked into place. When I was finished with the door, I pocketed the chalk and hurried to my bathroom, grabbing a bar of soap. Going through the apartment, I drew symbols with the soap on each window and on the sliding-gla.s.s doors that led to the balcony. I hesitated, looking at the balcony. I thought about scratching a few symbols on the concrete floor, but decided against it. If someone went to the trouble of climbing to my balcony, the wards on the sliding-gla.s.s door would stop them. This would give me a glimpse of my would-be attacker before I sent the b.a.s.t.a.r.d packing.

Dropping the soap and chalk on the coffee table in the center of the living room, I bent and pulled my wand out from where I had shoved it into my sock before collapsing on the sunken sofa. With my wand tightly clenched in my right hand, I lay back and draped my left arm over my eyes while kicking off my sneakers. It was only now that I was alone in the suffocating silence of the apartment that I realized how exhausted I was as well as sore.

Business at the parlor had been steady, but not hectic. While the little adventure at the garden hadn't been particularly clean, it had been successful. At some point tomorrow, I'd have to divvy up the flower and call my buyers, but for now, it was safe in the shop in its little brown paper bag.

It was the chaos that was brewing with Reave and the Towers that felt like a f.u.c.king gorilla sitting on my chest. I hadn't talked to my brother since leaving the apartment that afternoon and it hadn't been the happiest of partings. But then anything that had to do with the Towers was a big downer.

I felt bad for my brother. Not only had my being born a warlock f.u.c.ked up his life, but I knew that when he looked at me, he saw someone damaged, broken beyond repair. Who wanted that in the family? I didn't know what happened to the families of warlocks and witches. Never thought about it. I knew the families were instructed to tell the world that the kids had died, because they never expected to see them again. But what if the world found out they gave birth to a great killer? I can't imagine there are that many support groups out there for them. Were grieving women sneaking off to Mothers of Warlocks/Witches Anonymous?

Sleep settled over me for a short time, so that my mind wasn't churning about in useless circles. My thoughts slipped away and a blissful blankness cradled me, but it didn't last long. At least, it didn't feel like I'd slept long.

An intense buzzing ran over my arms, as if electricity had jumped from the nearest outlet and was trying to burrow into my flesh. My hand reflexively tightened on my wand, but I didn't lower my arm from my eyes as I continued to lie on the sofa. I strained with all my senses, trying to place the feeling that had jolted me awake. Someone was using magic very close to me. I guess that answered the million-dollar question as to who was going to arrive at my apartment first.

There were no sounds beyond my own uneven breathing and the distant hum of the refrigerator. Whoever was using the magic had yet to enter my apartment. I lowered my arm from my eyes and looked around the living room. Only the light in the kitchen was on, spilling through the rest of the apartment. Thick shadows crowded around the living room, but I was alone.

As I sat up, the buzzing feeling that I had felt upon waking returned. A second later, the front door exploded inward as it was blown off its hinges. The warped plank of wood hit the opposite wall and was left partially blocking the hallway to the bedroom and bathroom. A woman with a wand clutched in one hand lunged into the room and screamed, her body instantly wrapped in a white net of energy. She shrieked and writhed where she stood, unable to move her arms so she could use her wand. Her mind was locked in a fog of pain, leaving her powerless to remove the spell that held her.

I couldn't stop the smile that rose to my mouth as I stood. I loved it when those arrogant p.r.i.c.ks underestimated me. Gideon didn't, but then Gideon was smart enough to watch me; smart enough to know that if I survived several encounters with my former mentor, then I obviously knew how to weave a spell or two. This b.i.t.c.h a.s.sumed that since I left the Towers when I was a teenager, I didn't know s.h.i.t about protecting myself. She easily blew through the first ward guarding the door, but didn't bother to check for anything else before entering my apartment.

Raising my wand to banish her from my place, I shouted when the sliding doors exploded, covering me in gla.s.s. I didn't risk looking around to see who else was knocking on my door. Diving forward past the witch, I rolled until I hit the cracked and stained linoleum of the kitchen. My heart was pounding loud enough in my ears that I could barely hear anything else. There were now two magic users in my apartment. I was in serious s.h.i.t.

When I had battled to leave the Tower, I had faced only Simon. Of course, Simon was a master warlock of considerable power, so beating the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had been no easy task and I had no illusions about the fact that luck had played a large part in my final victory. But now I was faced with two and I was beginning to have some serious doubts about the likelihood of my survival.

With my back pressed against the cabinets, I peered around the edge of the wall to see a warlock with bright blond hair taking a slow step across the balcony toward the gla.s.sless doors. Yeah, warding the balcony was starting to look like a good idea. I quickly waved my wand and lifted my empty left hand. The gla.s.s shards that littered my living room rose up into the air and turned toward my newest guest like thousands of little daggers. With a whispered command, the shards shot through the opening at the warlock, attacking him again and again. They wouldn't kill him, just buy me some time.

Turning my attention to the witch, I frowned, struggling to think of something that would be effective in getting her out of my hair without killing her. Of course, even if I managed to send her away, there was still a good chance that she would only return at a later date. If the inhabitants of the Towers were anything, they were definitely single-minded. With a grunt, I gave my wand a short wave in the air, wrapping the energy net tighter around her so that it sizzled as it bit into her skin, sending her screams even higher in pitch and volume. A second later, she disappeared from sight and I gave a quick sigh of relief. If the spell I had woven was correct, she was now sinking to the ocean floor near a reef off the North Sh.o.r.e of Oahu.

Could this kill her? Sure. If she was stupid enough to come after me without knowing some basic escape and underwater breathing spells, of course she could die. Was she going to die? Most likely not. Warlocks and witches were harder to kill than that. The only plus in all this was that if she did die, I wasn't going to get dinged again. If she died, it would be because she drowned, not because of magic. It might seem coldhearted, but the witch b.i.t.c.h had been here to kill me first and I wasn't about to owe Lilith a second year.

The air crackled again with pent-up energy. I jerked my head back, pressing against the cabinets as a bolt of magic shot through the entrance into the kitchen and slammed into the wall, leaving behind a black scorch mark. Apparently the warlock had gotten free of my little gla.s.s entanglement.

"What the f.u.c.k do you want?" I shouted from the kitchen. I stayed back, unwilling to stick my head out and give the a.s.shole a target. I could hear the m.u.f.fled crunch of gla.s.s underfoot as he stepped onto the living room carpet.

"Your head for treason," snarled the warlock.

Before I could stop myself, I leaned around the doorway so I could look at him. "What?"

He didn't speak but snapped his wand in my direction, sending yet another blast of green energy in my direction. I raised my left hand before my face, calling up the appropriate countercurse to shield myself. A grunt escaped me when the energy pummeled my shield, knocking me back. Cracking sounds filled the air, sending my heart pumping in fear. The energy stopped for a second only to be followed by another blast. My defensive shield splintered and I was thrown to the back of the narrow kitchen.

Pain exploded down my spine and radiated through my ribs as I slid down the wall and fell on my a.s.s. f.u.c.k. This b.a.s.t.a.r.d was strong. He would have given Simon a run for his money. Were the witch and warlock the next in line for the open seat on the council and they thought killing me would give them a leg up?

Breathing in short, ragged gasps, I couldn't get a lungful of air. I was also having trouble clenching my wand in my hand as my fingers had started to tingle.

With a wave of my left hand, all the drawers in the kitchen slid open. A second later, the utensils hovered in the air, and more knives jumped from the butcher block on the counter. I smiled. This would keep the b.a.s.t.a.r.d busy for a bit. With a nod, all the objects hovering in the air flew through the doorway into the living room, seeking out the only other living creature in the apartment.

I pushed to my feet with a groan and grabbed the handled knife sharpener out of the butcher block. It was little more than a dull silver rod about the diameter of a Magic Marker that came to a sharp point. I could barely grasp my wand in my right hand, but this weapon was held firmly in my left hand.

Charging from the kitchen, I dodged a wicked steak knife that was slashing at the warlock and used my wand to knock aside his wand as he attempted to focus on me while ducking the downward blow of a stainless-steel ladle. I plunged the knife sharpener into his chest just below his heart. He stiffened, his eyes going wide with pain and surprise. At the same time several knives. .h.i.t home, burying themselves in his arms, legs, and stomach. As he crumpled to the ground, I waved off the spell that was controlling the silverware, allowing the utensils to fall harmlessly to the ground.

The warlock gasped, blood gurgling up his throat and spilling out the side of his mouth. On shaky legs, I kicked his wand away from his reach. I hadn't killed him, but he was dying. He could heal himself without the wand, but he could use the wand to kill me. My stomach clenched to look at him. I needed to finish him off, put him out of his misery. Right now he was in so much pain that he couldn't concentrate enough to use magic to heal himself or even take himself back to the Towers. I could pull the silver rod out of his chest, heal him, save him. But wouldn't he come after me again?

"What the h.e.l.l?" thundered a deep voice.

Spinning toward the front door, I raised my wand but stopped myself before I let loose the bolt of energy I had summoned. Gideon stood in the open doorway, his hair mussed and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was the most unkempt I had ever seen him. Yet it was the sight of Sofie b.l.o.o.d.y and limp in his hands that nearly stopped my heart.

"Sofie! What happened?" I cried, lowering my wand.

Gideon walked into the living room, his sharp gaze taking in and a.s.sessing the damage. "I found her on the landing of the stairs as I came up. She must have been caught on her way back." The warlock's frown deepened as he looked down at the mortally wounded warlock. "Why isn't he dead yet?"

"I hadn't . . . decided . . ."

"d.a.m.n it, Gage! You have to kill them!" he shouted, losing his temper. With a growl, he shoved Sofie at me. "Heal her. I will take care of him."

I didn't question it. As I was kneeling down to gently lay Sofie on the floor, I saw Gideon pick up a long boning knife from the carpet. He knelt beside the warlock and stabbed him straight through the heart, ending his pain and the threat he presented.

"Holy s.h.i.t!" Robert cried from the open doorway, popping my head up again. My older brother stood white-faced and frozen on the threshold, a pizza box in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other. This was not the side of my life my brother needed to see-a warlock kneeling over a dead body, me kneeling over a nearly dead cat, and my apartment trashed from a magic fight. Perfect!

Gideon raised his wand, his body twisted toward my brother as he prepared to sling whatever attack that had come to mind.

"No! Don't! He's with me!" I screamed while throwing a protective shield in front my Robert with my free hand.

The warlock's wand halted, but I could see the thick muscles in his forearm tensed and ready to strike.

"Please, he's my brother," I said.

Gideon's gray eyes jumped to my face, filled with shock. He knew I wasn't in contact with my family. It wasn't safe, as evidenced by my thoroughly trashed apartment.

"Please," I repeated, a little firmer and a little calmer.

With a frown, Gideon lowered his wand and looked back at my brother, waiting. I dropped my shield and waved my brother into my apartment. d.a.m.n, I needed to get that front door back in place before a neighbor wandered by.

"What can I do to help?" Robert asked, his voice a little wobbly as he gave Gideon a wide berth as he approached me.

"Nothing."

"Gage, it looks like you're in pretty deep s.h.i.t here. I can help."

I smiled at Robert, touched more than I wanted to admit that my brother, who was obviously scared s.h.i.tless, was ready to wade in and watch his little brother's back. A part of me wished I could let him help, but this was a mess best handled with magic. Lots of magic. "Just go hang out in my bedroom while we clean this up. And save me a couple beers."

Robert frowned as he looked at Gideon and then nodded. "Got it." He stared down at me for a few seconds and I don't know what was pa.s.sing through his mind, but it didn't seem to be abject horror, which was surprising. "You need anything, you shout. Anything at all." And then he shimmied past the broken door into the hall to my bedroom. Under his breath, I could hear him muttering that he should have bought a f.u.c.king case of beer.

Turning my full attention on Sofie, I found that her lovely bluish-gray fur was now dark and matted with her blood. There was a large wound in her abdomen and her breathing was shallow. She was fading fast. With a deep breath, I drew in as much energy as I could hold. As I exhaled, I sent that energy streaking through her body. It was a similar spell to what I had used on Bronx nights ago, but stronger. I was afraid of her dying before I could heal her. This spell tied her soul to the energy in her body. As long as I maintained the spell, her soul was trapped.

Despite the smallness of her frame in comparison to Bronx, it still took several minutes for the worst of her wounds to heal. I was vaguely aware of Gideon using magic around me. I could hear the tinkle of broken gla.s.s and the clink of silverware while a heavy breeze swept by me as the door flew to its place at the front of the apartment and the lights clicked on. I kept my eyes closed, straining to keep as much of my focus on Sofie as I could.

When the beat of her heart was strong beneath my fingers and her breathing was even, I started to unravel the healing spell, pulling the energy out of her body. Sofie shifted and I thought I could feel her purring. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, relief making my hands shake as I pulled them away from her. Sofie was an annoying, meddlesome old witch, but she was my annoying, meddlesome old witch and I'd be d.a.m.ned if I was going to let some f.u.c.king witch or warlock kill her because I had been stupid enough to send her into danger.

I sat on the carpet, leaning against the nearest wall, and dropped my head until my chin nearly hit my chest. Both Sofie and I had nearly been killed by a witch and a warlock. I was exhausted down to my soul and my body hurt in more places than I wanted to think about. I didn't want to move, didn't want to breathe, didn't want to think, but I still had to do all of the above because Gideon was here and was going to want some answers. He also had some answers that I desperately needed.

Something nudged my elbow. I looked down, lifting my hand. Sofie crawled into my lap and curled up. She didn't speak, only purred as she snuggled close. I gently ran my fingers over her wet, sticky fur, soothing away the last of the trembling and terror that had gripped us both. I had almost lost her. A lump grew in my throat and my chest ached with a pain that had nothing to do with physical injuries. The Towers were picking apart my life no matter how hard I tried to escape. I'd left my family to keep them safe from the Towers and now the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds were trying to claim the lives of my friends. There had to be another way.

"You're better than I am at that particular healing spell," Gideon said. "I think I would have been able to save her, but she wouldn't be as strong as she is now."

I wanted to smile, but I was too tired. As I looked up at him, I found that my apartment was back to its prebattle state with both doors fixed. The dead warlock was gone along with the bloodstain in the carpet. All that was left were a few stray pieces of chalk and my own bloodstained hands.

"Good to know I've got at least one skill," I said, scratching Sofie on the top of the head and behind her ears.

"If you're fishing for more compliments, I'd stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Why don't you tell me what the f.u.c.k is going on? And by that question, I mean for you to start with Indianapolis, cover Sofie's injuries, and finish with the two f.u.c.knuts who popped by to rearrange my apartment."

"I'll start with the easiest and the rest should fall into place," Gideon said on a sigh as he sat heavily on my couch. He looked as exhausted and as rough as I felt, but without the bruised and cracked ribs. "I didn't get to talk to Sofie, but I did see her briefly in Dresden. I a.s.sumed that you sent her in hopes of drawing me back to Low Town."

I stared down at Sofie in my lap. "You went all the way to the Tower?"

Sofie gave a wide yawn. "You aren't the only one who wants answers. And it was the only place I was guaranteed to get them."

I suppressed a shudder at the thought. She had walked into the lion's den. The European Ivory Tower wasn't in Dresden, Germany, but more to the north of the city in some forestland called Der Loben near a series of lakes. Everyone referred to it as Dresden because that was the closest big city. And for roughly nine years, the Dresden Tower had been my home.

"As I was saying," Gideon continued a bit irritably. "When the meeting broke up, I had already lost sight of Sofie, but I gather someone else was following her. They took care of her once they were sure they had your location."

Sofie rubbed her head against my hand. "Sorry, Gage. I didn't mean to lead anyone back to you."

"As long as they didn't tell anyone else where they had found me, it doesn't matter. Any idea who they were?"

Resting his right elbow on his knee, Gideon leaned his forehead against his right hand, scratching his scalp in thought. "The warlock on your floor was Neil Wilson. If there was a witch with him, it was most likely his apprentice. I think her name is Leanne, or maybe Lenore. He usually called her Useless Clod. Did you at least finish her?"

I looked away from the warlock, unable to meet his gaze. "Don't know. Sent her fishing off the North Sh.o.r.e. She might have escaped." Gideon remained silent so long that I had to look back. He frowned at me and I could feel his disappointment. For the first time, my claim that I wasn't a killer like him sounded weak and pathetic. An excuse rather than a principle.

"I get that they were here to kill me," I said, breaking the silence. "But do they have a new reason to be here?"

"For both our sakes, I f.u.c.king hope not," the warlock snapped, surprising me with his choice of language. He flopped back against the couch and dropped one foot on the top of my coffee table.

"You want a drink? My brother's got some beers," I said with a smirk.

Gideon hated me most days and the feeling was more than mutual. He was a pompous, arrogant, controlling a.s.shole who liked to make my life h.e.l.l, but I had to stop there because I also knew that he had done a lot to protect my life. Regardless, he had never looked quite so human as he did slouched on my couch with hair standing on end and shirt wrinkled. If his state didn't scare the s.h.i.t out of me, I would have laughed.

"G.o.d, that would be nice." He sighed and shook his head. "No, Ellen will worry."

"You go home every night?"

"I try, but it's not always possible. After Indianapolis, I have to."

Yeah, the whole world was in a state of shock and terror. His wife would definitely need a little rea.s.surance tonight from her warlock husband. While the news reports were offering little information beyond horror, a warlock could provide a better view of why the world was close to burning.

"Speaking of which, what happened with Indianapolis? Is the renewed attack on me tied to it?"

"Yes."

My head dropped back against the wall and I closed my eyes. Fear coiled in my stomach and that drink was starting to sound better by the second.

"Things have been bad in the Towers for a couple of years now. Between Peter's death, Simon's death, and the runaways, everyone has been on edge. It all exploded this afternoon when rumors. .h.i.t New York that someone managed to get exact Tower locations."

My heart stopped and my breath froze in my chest. I could even feel Sofie stiffen in my lap at this news. Apparently she hadn't heard this bit yet despite her quick trip to Germany. The world was teetering on the brink of destruction and I now had a hand in it. To make matters worse, a key figure in this growing debacle was sitting in the next room eating pizza and drinking beer. May whatever forces there were in the cosmos please take pity on me and let my brother stay in my bedroom with his mouth shut.

"All locations?" I asked, struggling to keep my tone steady.

"We don't know. I'm not even sure how true the rumor is, but it doesn't seem like most are concerned about the truth of it any longer. What I've heard is that two to three locations have been discovered. The ones that keep coming up are New York, Dresden, and Canberra."

"Where'd the information come from?"

"We are aware of several small resistance groups that have been working on trying to find the locations for the past few decades. It's been largely humans with a few ogres, trolls, and others thrown into the mix. No one strong in magic, particularly glamour, so we've left them alone. The guardians gleaned word a few months ago that they made a new contact and were excited. We watched but this person was very smooth. We never saw him or her, but when a couple representatives struck the enclave they were watching, nearly all were found dead."

"Their contact killed them?"

Gideon nodded. "One person was found clinging to life. He was squeezed, but we got only one last fleeting thought. Elf."

"f.u.c.k," I whispered. This was a disaster.

"Yes, the one race that we've feared from the beginning. Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds know more about glamour than anyone else. We always worried they would crack the protective spells. The Towers hoped that the elves had been broken, that they wouldn't try to fight back, but apparently not."

"Stop. You don't know this is the elves. It could be one rogue elf acting alone. You also don't know if this is the elves or the Svartalfar. There is a difference."