Seraphs Read online

“That would sound more convincing if your mouth weren’t bloody,” Rupert said wryly.

  I licked my lips, tasting kylen and mage. Heat threatened to rise again, but the amulets sent a burst of something into me, like a shot of a powerful drug. I hadn’t drawn on them, even instinctively, but I recognized the pulse of power from the pink tourmaline ring. Clearly part of its purpose was to help control mage-heat.

  Leaving the door wide, I walked into my loft, touching the amulet in the doorknob to damp my neomage attributes. Behind me, I could hear the three males entering as I grabbed clothes from the armoire storing casual wear and pulled a screen around the bath area to shield it from the rest of the apartment. With icy water and a coarse rag, I scrubbed the smell of kylen from me, abrading my flesh to help with the last vestiges of heat. I stuffed the robe into a bag of salt for cleaning later. When I could find a new laundress and someone to stitch up the ragged tear.

  Naked, I looked at myself. Beneath the amulet necklace, my body was mottled with fresh bruises from this morning’s training, and on top of the bruises were the imprints of Thadd’s hands. I inspected the visa, feeling the power of the four-inch stone doughnut and thinking. A mage in the human world would sometimes encounter a seraph or kylen. They would need something to keep heat at bay. The visa had a lot of powers I needed to know about. It would all be funny if I thought the amulets could control mage-heat for any length of time. They couldn’t. I could feel it starting to rise and clamped down on it hard. I dressed in layers for warmth and separation from the kylen. From the look of my robe and his shirt, it might not be enough.

  When I emerged, they were drinking coffee made from the bag Lucas had left last night. Water for my tea simmered on the gas stove. Warily, Rupert and Audric watched me. “I’m okay,” I said, risking a look at Thadd even as an embarrassed flush rose in my cheeks. Tooth marks ringed his throat. Great. “How about you?”

  He took a slow breath. “I’m okay. I guess. That was . . .”

  “Mage-heat.”

  “Yeah. Explains why I’ve been feeling—” He stopped again and flushed.

  “Right,” I said. “So why are you here?” I didn’t mean it to sound so abrupt, but didn’t apologize or take it back, either.

  “Two things. You made SNN’s breaking news last night, and it’s still on this morning.” When I grimaced, he said, “And you’re under surveillance by the AAS.”

  “Why?” Audric asked, responding to the surveillance part.

  “Because she’s the only sanctioned mage living among humans who doesn’t have a specific job to do.”

  My mind gave a drawn-out, unconscious, Ohhh, of course, at his words. When no one responded, he continued. “All other mages are diplomats, working to stimulate and facilitate trade between our respective governments. Thorn—” He paused and started over. “You—”

  “Are loose and running around, having fun. A bad precedent for the immoral to be allowed among the holy humans,” I finished sarcastically. As I spoke, I found the remote and clicked the television on. I didn’t even have to wait. On the bottom left of the screen was footage of me holding a sword to the elder’s throat. I winced and turned it back off.

  “And your Lolo keeps calling me.” He fished out his satellite phone and looked at it. “I’ve tried blocking her. I’ve had headquarters try to block her. She keeps getting through. She’s driving me nuts.”

  “What does the priestess of the New Orleans Enclave desire of you?” Audric asked in that disconcertingly formal way half-breeds sometimes employed in the presence of kylen, seraphs, and mages.

  Thadd shrugged, that odd, seraph-like gesture he used, a lifting of shoulder blades, and shifted his gaze to the wall behind me. “She implies that she wants us to mate.”

  “She would not. Such matings are forbidden,” Audric said before I could reply.

  “Like hiding my birth was forbidden?” Thadd asked, looking at me. “Somehow, your Lolo knows what I am, and she wants something. I don’t think it’s a plan she just came up with. I think it’s been in the works for a long time. Like since before I was born.”

  The same thought had occurred to me, and to avoid the penetrating looks of the males, I went to the kettle, which had started to sizzle, and busied myself with the ritual of tea. I chose almond cookie tea, a comfort flavor, and measured a heaping tablespoon into the kettle to swirl in the hot water. I found a mug I liked, one Audric had dead-mined from his town. On it were the words BEST FRIENDS ARE CHEAPER THAN SHRINKS. I liked the concept. As I worked, I thought about Lolo.

  Rumor claimed the priestess was old, maybe over a hundred years. If that was true, it would make Lolo one of the Mage War survivors, alive when seraph and mage were free to mate, when kylen had been born in high numbers. Some mages wanted a return to the freedom of mating when they wanted, and with whom. Some mages wanted Enclaves abolished. Some hoped there was a way to coerce the Most High into giving us souls so we might join the elect and go to heaven when we die. Rumor said Lolo was among those, but rumor was often false.

  Except: I had lived among humans freely. Free mages were thought to be a rumor too, but they weren’t. Lolo had placed me in Mineral City, hidden me here, ten years ago. Was the old woman involved in some plan that required me to be in this town? Required the birth of Thadd, part seraph, part mage, to one of Mole Man’s descendants? Required him to be here, at the base of the Trine, where the original sacrifice took place? And Audric, too? I had wondered all this before, but I couldn’t see it—yet I had long ago learned to disbelieve in coincidences. I sat at the table and added crystallized honey to the tea, sipping slowly to keep from burning my split lip. I remembered Thadd’s teeth against it. My flush deepened.

  “Durbarge is taking a special interest in you, Thorn,” Thadd said. “Be careful.”

  “Did he see you enter the shop?” Audric asked.

  “Probably. But if we get back downstairs and I buy something, and if I report back to him on our conversation, I should be safe.” When Audric lifted his brows in inquiry, Thadd said, “We talked about the weather; about the ice cap on the Trine melting. About the device that rose from the mountain peak. Thorn shrugged and said she thought it was all weird. I couldn’t get anything from any of you, even in friendly conversation.”

  “I’m cagey that way,” I agreed solemnly.

  “Be careful. And keep those amulets on,” he said, sounding rueful. “Please.”

  I smiled at him, seeing him for a moment in memory, a radiant reddish-gold aura sparkling with green light. Feeling his hands on my bare butt, kneading. I took a deep breath to steady myself. “I’ll try to contact Lolo,” I said. “Maybe she’ll let something slip. Or maybe she’ll answer a direct question. But before you go, I have a bit of information that might shed some light on all this.” Or might not. I still wasn’t a hundred percent certain that I had really seen what I thought I’d seen. It could all have been illusion created by the Darkness, and if so, would only cloudy the muddy waters even more.

  Quickly I told them the vision I had seen beneath the Trine, of the seraph with clipped wings, the cherub, and Zadkiel. I finished with the caveat that it might not have been real, but even so Thadd looked at me like I was nuts. “Seraphs in a hellhole?” he said. “I don’t think so.”

  Because I doubted what I had seen myself, I didn’t get riled at his reaction—but it was a near thing. Rupert patted my shoulder, checked his watch, and stood. “Whatever,” he said. “We can talk about angels and demons later. Let’s get Thadd something from the shop. Something to convince his boss this visit was business.”

  As I followed them to the door, I took a small amulet from my necklace and handed it to Thadd, careful not to touch him. “Here. Put this over the tooth marks on your neck. It’ll fade the bruises in about an hour. Keep your scarf on until then.”

  “You bit me?” he asked, hunger freshly alight in his eyes. His fingers found the raspberry red places on his neck. His mouth parted and he surged toward me.

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nbsp; “Down, boy,” Rupert said, grabbing the cop and pulling him to the stairs.

  “Yeah.” I ducked my head under the amused expressions of my friends. “I bit you. Sorry.” They closed the door in my face. I was alone in the loft, which smelled strongly of caramel, less strongly of ginger. Seraph and kylen pheromones changed with emotion, just as humans’ and mages’ did. When Thadd fought, he smelled of ginger. When he was aroused, the other scents were more powerful. Like now.

  Forcing the rising heat back down again, I pushed the kitchen table away and got a bag of earth salt. Though used, it was potent enough to scry for Lolo. The old bat and I had a lot to talk about, not that I’d ever call her that to her face.

  I poured water into my sterling silver conjuring bowl and lit a candle before sitting within the circle, at the open space in the salt ring. Spine erect, I crossed my legs yogi-fashion and closed my eyes, blew out a tension-filled breath and drew in a calming one. Again. And again. Serenity fluttered close, just out of reach, held at bay by mage-heat that still quivered through my nerves. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get any closer to calm today, and dropped the final handful of salt, closing the conjuring circle.

  Power seized me. The fire of creation burned along my nerves and bones, pulling at me, tempting me, but as usual in the last few weeks, I batted away the temptation to take creation power for myself, to use as I willed, and stabilized the energies needed to scry for Lolo. Once, rejecting the temptation would have been difficult, nearly impossible, and many mages never gained any kind of restraint. I should have been worried about having such control, as it had been the gift of an outside force, but I wasn’t. Never had been.

  My heart beat slowly, my blood pumped, breath moved through my lungs, and all glamour fell away. Scars bright, my body pulsed with a pink coral radiance, and a lavender underglow, as if I sat on a pillow of lavender light. But there was no big purple cobra this time, so maybe I was getting lucky. Luck, fickle and random, was something else I didn’t like to depend on. Only fools depended on the providence of good fortune.

  My loft shone with power. Every window and doorway, and even the floor surfaces were charged with pale energy, glowing with subtle shades, their purposes working together to form the harmony that was my home.

  Calm, relaxed, I called on Lolo. After several minutes, the water in the bottom of the bowl began to shimmer, brightening with an image. In it, a female form sat on a pile of pillows in a dark room. A flute played in the background. Drums beat a slow, steady rhythm. Candle flames bent in an unseen breeze. The priestess was in her chambers, attended by her musicians and acolytes. Finally, she had deigned to answer my call.

  I repeated the incantation for scrying one last time as the vision came clear and tightened on the face of the seated woman. Lolo’s black-on-black eyes looked out at me from the water, her lips turned up serenely. Her voice filled my head. What you want, girl? she asked, her Cajun accent present even in her mental voice.

  “Four things,” I said aloud. “I want to know how to call for seraphic help without calling mage in dire.”

  Yes, Lolo said. I can teach you dis ting. It part of you visa.

  “I want to know what the visa can do and how to use it to its full potential.”

  Dat too, she said.

  Good. Small steps. Now the bigger things, I thought. “I want to know if you were involved in the breeding of Thaddeus Bartholomew.”

  Lolo’s eyes flickered once, and her tranquil smile faltered. I’d not have noticed had I not been watching her so closely. “Last, I want to know about the seraphs in the pit of Darkness.”

  Her hand lifted and the vision wavered as if I had lost focus for a moment. And then she was gone. The water went dim and I could see the silver bottom of the bowl.

  I had lost her. Though I tried twice more to call the priestess of New Orleans Enclave, I failed. The water in the bowl remained only water, reflecting back the candle flame. I swore silently, thinking I should have put stones on the bottom for added power. When I knew my attempts would continue to be futile, I recharged the defensive amulets placed around the loft; not that they seemed able to keep the incubus out, but they were all I had. Marginally satisfied, I reached over and opened the circle, the energies flowing back into me.

  As I cleaned up the salt, I thought about Lolo’s face when I asked my last questions. Her shock. Her dismay. There had been no disbelief, no denial, only surprise that I had asked the questions. Only distress that I knew to ask. And something akin to alarm. Perhaps I hadn’t failed after all.

  At the end of the workday, I was feeling antsy. To banish the remnants of mage-heat, I dressed in work clothes and went out back to the old post-and-beam stable, one of several in a row. Zeddy, Jacey’s teenage stepson, was there before me, mucking out the stalls by lantern light as the geldings—Audric’s palomino Clydesdale and my huge black Friesian—and Rupert’s mule munched feed and hay. I grabbed a shovel and started on the far side of the barn, feeling the pull of muscles in my shoulders and back. The air inside was brisk but not miserably cold, heated by the bodies of the horses and the activities of two workers. Building up a sweat, Zeddy and I worked in silence, Jacey’s stepson nearly a match in size for the workhorses. We had cleaned the stalls and most of the common area when the horses threw up their heads, inhaled and blew, snorting. Clyde stamped in agitation. The mule trumpeted a heehaw of fear.

  “Miss Thorn?” Zeddy said. “Something feels wrong.”

  The stink of brimstone and sulfur blew through the cracks in the barn. Seraph stones. I gripped the shovel and moved to the doors facing the back of Thorn’s Gems. Holding the shovel like a bowstaff, a martial art weapon, I eased open the door to the night, the lamplight a wedge revealing snow trampled with three-toed footprints. “Spawn!” I shouted, as something crashed against the door and I jumped back. Mage-sight kindled instantly, turning the world shades of pink, indigo, purple, and pale yellow.

  The big barn door slammed just as a three-fingered, clawed hand tried to thrust its way in. Without thinking, I rammed the blade of the shovel, severing the fingers. A howl sounded through the closed door.

  “Spawn never come this far down the Trine,” Zeddy said, his voice shaking.

  I knew differently. Spawn went anywhere they wanted. I scanned the barn. I had no weapons but the shovels, a crowbar, and a toolbox that housed a claw hammer, nails, and a couple of screwdrivers. I could throw a shield over the barn, but that would just send the spawn next door to eat my neighbors’ horses. Or my neighbors. A thud landed on the roof, followed by several others. Something scrabbled again at the barn door. “How loud can you scream?” I asked. “If we make enough noise, Audric will hear us. He’ll come.” With battle-lust in his eyes and enough weapons to start a small war, I could have added, but didn’t.

  “Yellin’ I can do,” he said.

  We let out bloodcurdling screams, and I drew on the visa, adding decibels to mine, until the horses reared and I had to stop or have the animals tear down the barn. Zeddy took his shovel to the post-and-beam walls, beating them, and when that proved unsatisfying, he dropped it and beat the walls with his bare hands. The horses pranced in alarm, terrified of the noise and our scent of fear, and of the reek of danger that gusted in through the chinks in the walls and beneath the door. If they started bucking, we were toast.

  More spawn landed on the roof. I smelled smoke. Seraph balls. The spawn had brought fire. The hair on the back of my neck rose, even as defensive incantations and tactics presented themselves in the corners of my mind and were discarded. I hadn’t recharged all my amulets. Most were half empty, yet even if they had been fully charged, they would not have been enough. Smoke wafted in through the chinks. I rammed the shovel at the wood walls, my voice shrill, fighting panic, trying to think.

  If I turned my back on the town and shielded the barn from flame, I might live but my neighbors would die. If my shield missed even a corner of the barn, that part of the building would be vulnerable to fire.
Smoke would penetrate the shield, suffocating us. Worse, the section of the barn enclosed by the conjure would be filled with hungry spawn.

  I hadn’t expected an attack. Spawn liked mule trains and the rare, lone, unwary traveler. They didn’t attack cities. Spawn didn’t plan an attack at all, as they were beasts of opportunity.

  I started coughing. Homer snorted and pranced, ears back, eyes rolling. The mule, overlooked in my worry, heehawed and kicked in a circle.

  Claws scraped the frozen ground and a body scrabbled under the door. I beheaded it with the shovel, ichor flying and burning holes in my shirt. It took three strikes to cut through the spine. Spawn were faster than humans and half-breeds, some said faster than mages, and they healed from almost anything except a beheading. It sounded as if there were dozens more. We were in trouble.

  In the lantern light, I fingered my amulets. One that I would never utilize in warfare presented itself to me. Coughing, I said, “Zeddy, get over here. Keep the horses calm.” When the big teen slid between the workhorses, I said, “Cover their eyes if you have to, but stay put. I’ll try to put out the fire.” He dropped his shovel and clutched the animals’ halters. I flicked my thumb over an amulet and opened a small shield over them. The horses, Zeddy, and the mule were protected from projectiles and attackers, but not from airflow. It was a pretty nifty defensive weapon and I had never figured out how the first neomages came up with it. Nifty, that is, unless smoke was about to smother you.

  Outside the shield I primed two amulets, drawing on the cat amulet’s stored power. I cracked open a door, aimed a charm to heat bathwater at Rupert’s loft, and threw it, transferring power into it from the cat. A lot of power. It ripped through me with a searing electric charge.

  The energies stored in the tossed amulet released when it landed on the stairs. Instantly the snow on the roof, porch, and steps melted, falling to the ground with a crash, like a wave on the beach, hopefully alerting Audric and Rupert while putting out the fire. I jerked back as talons reached for me, slammed the door, smoke billowing up beneath it.