Page 30 of Against the Veil (Endangered Fae #3)

By the time they’d landed at St. John’s International, all the news agencies had been buzzing about riots in Houston and Detroit as well.

Witchcraft Riots, the reporters were calling these disturbances, damn them.

Nothing like fanning the hysteria. They all seemed to begin with magical attacks on someone of power in a public area, in a poorer section of town.

‘Witch on witch violence’ some idiot news pundit called it.

The violence always escalated as more magic users were sucked into the crowd hysteria, either trying to defend themselves or attacking blindly out of fear.

The police in every afflicted city seemed unable to find the ones who caused the most damage.

Those individuals all mysteriously disappeared.

Though Zack was sure he knew what had happened to them, in part. Diego had whisked them away. At least he hoped so, and that Diego wasn’t killing anyone. Please, God, not that.

A hand fell on his shoulder and turned him gently.

He’d been so damn distracted he neither had heard nor smelled Lugh’s approach.

He had to stay alert, especially now, damn it, but it felt so good to rest his head on a broad shoulder and have strong arms wrap him up tight.

They’d only been separated for a few hours, but it felt like centuries.

“Are you well, braveheart?”

“Yeah. I guess.” When Lugh let out a sound of concern, he hurried to add, “I’m good. Not hurt or anything. Just…worried and frustrated all to hell.”

“I presume you have watched the news, then.”

“Yeah.” Zack buried his face against Lugh’s neck, drinking in his scent. “He’s moving so damn fast. What the hell are we supposed to do?”

For a long moment, they simply held each other in the empty office, their breathing punctuated by soft computer noises.

Finally, Lugh pulled back, his hands still on Zack’s hips.

“I have never been so unsure. He has not, as far as we know, killed. He leaves destruction in his wake but seems to have avoided causing irretrievable injury. Do we wait, to see his ultimate design? Do we try to divine a pattern in his strikes and hunt him with a greater force? And what is it we do here, exactly, if his goal is simply to capture those who would use magic for dark purposes?”

“It’s wrong and you know it.” Zack poked a finger at his shoulder. “Don’t even try to tell yourself it isn’t. Someone’s gonna get seriously hurt. And even if they don’t, what happens when he has ‘control’? What’s our doppelganger Diego planning then? This isn’t going anywhere good.”

Lugh stared at a point over his head. “He is still Diego. His thoughts have always been ordered…”

“Right. There has to be a pattern to what he’s doing out there. We just need to figure it out.” Zack grabbed his prince’s hand and dragged him to the den. He switched on the news and grabbed a road atlas from the bookshelf, opening it up to the map of the continental United States.

Lugh sat on the edge of the sofa, arms resting on his powerful thighs. If he’d had canine ears, they would have been pricked forward. Zack pulled a red pen from the cup on the end table and circled Los Angeles.

“Okay, pretty sure I know why he went to L.A. first. That’s where the vamp in his FOSH folder was.”

Dark eyes blinked at him. “FOSH?”

“Sorry, the File of Strange Happenings he showed me before everything went all to hell.”

“And is this file still in his office? Perhaps it would provide answers.”

Zack flashed him a grin. “See, now my prince is thinking.” He leaped up before Lugh had a chance to answer and dashed off to Diego’s office.

Damn it, why didn’t I think of it before?

A hard twinge in his chest stopped him at the door.

Memories of Diego behind that big-ass desk, frowning in worry over some diplomatic problem or smiling in welcome—it hurt, to remember their Diego, who might be gone forever.

I don’t want to hurt him but this new Diego scares the hell out of me.

The file still sat in Diego’s unlocked top drawer, and that was so like his old friend, to be so trusting as to leave classified documents lying around, that the lump in his throat almost cut off his breathing.

He swiped impatiently at his eyes and hurried back to the den.

This sure as shit wasn’t the time to start falling apart.

He divided the papers with Lugh and they spent half an hour searching through page after page.

The whole thing would’ve taken seconds if these things had been compiled on the embassy’s intranet, but no.

Diego was old school and had to print it all out.

Sionnach and Angus soon joined them, curiosity driving both heralds to find the source of rustling paper.

“For what do we search?” Sionnach plunked down cross-legged on the floor by Zack’s feet, bushy tail curled across his lap.

“Here.” Zack handed him a stack of pages and took a section of Lugh’s to give to Angus. “Look for any mention of what Diego would have considered ‘dark’ magical critters and what cities they were spotted in.”

Angus sprawled on the floor with his stack, his head in Sionnach’s lap, almost identical frowns of concentration on their faces. Strange to see the two heralds so silent, so serious, but the past couple of months had been hard on everybody.

The list grew slowly. New York. Boston. Miami. Spokane. Poughkeepsie. But no mention, aside from Los Angeles, of the cities Diego had raided. Zack looked up sharply when the news channel began running stories about new riots.

Pittsburgh.

He added it to the list, staring hard at the names. “Houston… Detroit… Pittsburgh…”

His tired brain didn’t make the connection but Sionnach, whose head retained every song he ever heard, began to hum Life During Wartime.

“Damn it!” Zack slammed his palm down on the coffee table, causing all three fae to jump. “He’s playing games with us!”

“Zachary?” Lugh gripped his shoulder, and he realized he was shaking.

“Hold on…” With a muttered curse, he dug his phone from his pocket and did a quick search.

“Talking Heads. He’s pulling cities from Talking Heads songs.

Was always one of his favorite groups. Probably end up in New York at some point, but I’d bet he saves that for later.

” His thumbs flew over the keys as he kept searching while he talked.

A corner of his mind whispered to him that he shouldn’t be able to text so fast. He told it to shut the hell up.

“Memphis. He’ll be going to Memphis next. ”

“Oh, yes?” Lugh leaned over his shoulder, forehead creased in confusion.

“Song lyrics. He’s picking cities from Talking Heads’ lyrics, wondering if I’d catch on. God. He’d do that sometimes. Recite bits of lyrics to see if I’d know the song. It’s like his normal quirks all twisted up.”

“Why would he focus on you?” Angus’ head tilted to the side like the bird he was.

“He…” Zack shook his head. “We’ve been through a lot together. Maybe…maybe some part of him wants me to understand because he’s sure Finn won’t. Wants me to…I’m not sure. Either stop him or stand by him. Maybe some of both.”

The fae in the room exchanged looks. “This is a human thing, I think,” Sionnach said softly.

Lugh shook his head. “It is our Taliesin’s heart crying out to us in anguish. He resides beneath the strange, cold facade still. It should give us hope.”

“It should get our butts moving to Memphis if we’re going to have any chance of stopping this.” Zack stood. “I’ll grab Carol. Lugh, I’d suggest gathering whatever battle group you think is appropriate.”

“Finn?”

“Wouldn’t leave without him.”

Minky cringed at the crack of the dragon lord’s hand on Brandon’s ass.

Again. The first time had been kind of funny, but she had never enjoyed watching someone else being humiliated.

Normally so confident and together, Brandon’s repeated failure had left him frustrated, his face scarlet in shame, his jaw clenched tight.

If he broke down, she might have to say something…

Whoa. Where did that come from?

“No and no!” The dragon didn’t shout but the way his words snapped and popped in the air made his listeners wince. “Your impetus comes from your core but power comes from outside yourself!”

Brandon squeezed his eyes shut, obviously fighting his temper and tears. The dragon lord had already taught Nate and Kara how to reach for the magic all around them. They were getting it. The big guy couldn’t.

“Sir?” Will asked softly.

“Yes, little seer?” Golden dragon eyes pinned Will where he sat on the swing under the wisteria.

“If that’s true, and there’s always the same amount of magic out there for everyone to use, why are some people more powerful than others?”

“Ah. Your kelan patterns…” The dragon lord settled cross-legged on the patio under the pergola, his golden skin a beautiful contrast to the gray paving stones.

With a flick of his fingers over the stones where they had each donated a drop of blood, he displayed their individual kelan again as he had when they had first started the lesson an hour before.

“Think of them as nodes onto which the world’s magic may cling. ”

Kara’s and Nate’s were on the end, nearly identical as far as Minky could see, in the distribution and movement of the bright motes.

Will’s and Brandon’s both shone brighter, though Will’s had a quiet, waltz-like movement while Brandon’s looked more like a rave.

Her own…she didn’t understand why hers were so different.

The others had colonies of kelan clustered along their DNA strands.

Minky’s were more diffuse, like strings and webs of Christmas lights.