Page 11

11

T hank the Goddess, the girls didn’t follow us downstairs, nor was Bea lingering in the dorm lounge when we winded through the maze of staircases to return to the cafe. I didn’t blame the teens for dodging the meeting. If I’d had the forethought to press my thumb to the sign-in sheet to register me as present at the Towpath before searching for my demon, we would’ve absconded too, but I hadn’t focused on anything except my missing demon so we were stuck pretending to listen as Griffith’s second droned on.

“And a reminder to all Towpath families with littles under testing age from the surrounding city councils: no child of magical heritage or descent fewer than four generations may take part in youth soccer specifically but also any sport in which mundane children compete. Latent power may give children with magical lineage unfair advantage and so are barred from games and practices, including off-field coaching by peers.” Bea shook the page from which she read, then glanced up. “Please do not allow your littles near any mundane child with a sports ball. Yes, even in your own backyard. It only takes a phone call, just one! The fines are crippling and as two parents in the Quiet Quislings recently discovered, repeated offense will result in community service, which I am told is pleasant only if one enjoys clearing excess poo from the dog park.”

She glared over her paperwork. “Do not repeat their mistake in believing mundanes will give you and your children a pass if you do not practice magic and hold no career in the magical fields. Any hint of power as far back as a great-great-grandparent is all that’s required to invite persecution for not just you, but also our youth. For their sake, let’s not be foolish, shall we?”

Megan nudged me with an elbow. “Didn’t you play T-ball?”

“Magical league,” I said on a low whisper. “Back then, Teddy, Griffith, and Clark organized teams, so we’d have the same opportunities as mundane kids, but that ended a long time ago.”

Megan sat up in her seat. “But why?” She frowned at a mage sitting near us who pointedly cleared his throat. “Kids are kids. They all need physical activity and sports teach discipline and teamwork.”

“After Dad’s murder and Clark’s disappearance. Griffith couldn’t keep the leagues afloat on top of everything else.”

“Do you mind?” the mage murmured, voice scathing. “Mundane trash.”

My hackles rising, I shifted in my seat. “You got a problem, buddy? Want to step outside?”

The mage tipped his head back and chortled. “How many demons do you think are still circling the downtown mall? Four? Five?”

“Seven.” Megan blinked wide, innocent eyes at the mage. “My cousin is best friends with a city cop. What do you drive and how illegally do you like to speed and/or park?” When the mage only grimaced and returned his huffy attention to Bea, still reading the local ordinance reminders to keep magicals under the mundane majority’s boot heels, my boss blew out a long breath and shifted her attention to me. “Magic doesn’t solve every problem, druid boy.” She arched an eyebrow. “Or fists.”

I forced a smile. “Noted.” But magic and a solid left hook frequently helped.

Guildies packed the cafe’s floor space, including magicals lining and leaning against the walls. Megan had waved me over to seating she’d carved out for us on the balcony, a bistro table on the edge to which extra chairs had been added that looked down to the bar where Bea held court.

I’d missed the start of the mandatory gathering while I’d been upstairs searching for Jae, who glowered his contempt and ill-temper from an emergency fire exit on the other side of the balcony, but Megan had caught me up in a low whisper. “Griffith thanked everyone for preparing for and otherwise taking part in keeping you alive this morning. Something about a demon meet and greet later in the fall and then an announcement calling for volunteers for Samhain festivities,” she’d said.

The guild boss had left the rest of the meeting in Bea’s capable hands. He winded through the jungle of tables to reach me, the human half of the hunter team who’d done her best to end me by frostbite glued to his side. Once he’d reached me and Megan, he stared at the rude mage who grunted his displeasure before vacating his chair for the woman. Rather than bullying his way into prime seating for himself, Griffith sank to a crouch next to me. “David, you met her this morning, but let me formally introduce you to Clara Trask, water mage partner to the demon Menolac, Aerie Tribe.”

We traded acknowledging nods of respect, though what Griffith could be thinking when demons up and down the East Coast still wanted to destroy me was a mystery. That they’d kill Jae too, if they could, stuck in my craw. Judging by the growl coming from the direction of the fire exit, where Jae had gathered with some of the younger teens, my demon was none too pleased by this turn of events, either.

“Neat trick with the ice,” I said, since I couldn’t make myself mouth the polite lie that meeting Clara was a pleasure. It wasn’t. But I trusted Griffith…to a point. The guild boss wouldn’t have orchestrated this tête-à-tête if he wasn’t up to something and since Jae hadn’t moved from his position across the balcony, I guessed he was willing to see what Griffith hoped to achieve with this, too.

The wry arc of the water mage’s eyebrow told me the lady was equally aware that the niceties would’ve been hypocritical and beneath us both. “Menolac isn’t comfortable with ice, but he recognizes the most effective weapon against other demons is cold. Our fierce winters keep most from encroaching on our territory. I won’t rely on a few frigid months to keep him safe from danger or harm, though.”

I lifted the water bottle Megan had passed to me when I’d returned from the guild floors above and, unscrewing the cap, I gulped half the bottle. I did genuinely need to rehydrate. Working magic didn’t just sap our power. It took a toll on our bodies and I’d spent a lot of energy, too much, reaching the community center and during the trial of testing. But I also needed a few seconds to think.

What was this hunter team up to? What was their plan?

What was Griffith’s?

Megan must have talked to the guild boss while I was gone, because she leaned forward. “Ice magic isn’t limited to water mages. Druids manipulate water to nurture plant growth and create suitable climates for non-native species/” She pinned the mage with a steady stare. “If he can magic a tropical zone, he can learn to make an arctic tundra.”

“Very advanced magic. Even for him.” Clara’s mouth bowed, her eyes sparkling when she turned her attention to me. “I’m sure you’ll manage ice should you choose to seek that extension of your power, but I don’t envy you the pushback you’ll get from your demon for trying.”

My eyes narrowed on hers. I wasn’t buying the friendly overture, tentative or otherwise. “What do you want?”

Griffith laid his palm over my thigh under the table and gave me a warning squeeze. “An alliance,” he said with a wide smile that failed to reach his eyes, which glinted ominously. “Our nexus is too far south for Clara and Menolac to guard, if the nexus truly is awakening.”

“Menolac likes Pittsburgh. I do too. Pro sports teams, outstanding museums, and fresh pierogies whenever I want them. What’s not to like? We even befriended our dragon.” Clara tapped her fingernails on the iron filigree tabletop. “Neither one of us wants to move or travel down to the mountains to monitor your nexus.”

My nexus now, was it? I snorted a laugh. “So you’re ceding the territory to us.” I waved with the water bottle. “Just like that.”

Doubtful. Demons never gave up land. The bigger the hedge of safety they gathered around their sanctuaries, the happier the psychopaths tended to be.

“Menolac has agreed these mountains were never legitimately ours to hold.” Clara’s mouth pinched. “Until this weekend, we’d never visited Cumberland. We followed a trail of suspected traffickers to Frederick once, meant to swing farther west to add the area to our claim, but Menolac said the nexus felt wrong. Hinky. The nexus was dormant and there never seemed to be a danger or hint another apex predator might move onto this stretch of land. Nobody wanted it, so we stayed away.”

Megan frowned. “That’s western Maryland all right. Ignored by everyone.”

Clara shrugged a dainty shoulder. “The point is, we’ll not stand in your way. The mountains are yours—if you can hold them.”

Griffith rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers. “And your dragon?”

“Obie hasn’t left the nest in a decade. With no mate to help feed, raise, and protect his dragonets, they keep him busy. We struck a deal.” Clara chuckled. “He resists the urge to eat us and in exchange, we handle security around Pittsburgh for him.”

Griffith’s eyes widened. Mine did, too.

Dragonets? Jae’s scarlet gaze focused on our table like lasers and a heartbeat later, he strode across the balcony, elbowing Towpath guildies aside.

I winced. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Clara shot me a quizzical glance and then smiled when my short demon halted by my side, glaring at everyone at our table. “Ah. First Blood. I forgot.”

My turn to flash a questioning look. “Say again?”

“You really should learn daemonica culture, what drives the different tribes, each’s strengths and weaknesses.” She pointed at my demon. “First Bloods are suckers for kids. Species don’t matter. The First Blood tribe reveres all children.”

“The dragon lost its mate?” Jae asked, crossing his beefy arms over his chest.

“I remember that.” Megan hummed under breath. “Years and years ago. Rumors had started about a dragonet hatchling when the female vanished.”

“Probably the same traffickers we tracked to Frederick. Dragon scales, teeth, claws, and hearts command a premium on the black market. You can name your price.” Clara sighed. “Pity we lost the traffickers’ trail back then.”

Griffith nodded. “We were trying to track them, too. The traffickers seemed to go underground for a couple of years, lying low until the heat let up—”

“My dad.” My spine shot straight. “Was Teddy working on that? Was Clark?”

“Not now,” the guild boss murmured under his breath, giving my thigh another warning squeeze.

“How many dragonets?” Jae asked with a frustrated glare.

“The point,” Clara said on a slow drawl, her voice raising above the increasing rumble of the guildies around us, “is Menolac and I agree that a second hunter team in the mountains could be useful. If we can reach an accord.”

I winged up a surprised eyebrow. “What are your terms?”

She withdrew a map from a vest pocket and, sweeping salt and pepper shakers and the debris of other condiment aside, she unfolded it on the tabletop. She stabbed a finger down, tracing a state line. “Pennsylvania is ours. That’s non-negotiable. Every inch of land above the Mason Dixon belongs to Menolac and he won’t suffer your demon inching a single claw onto it.”

I’d grown up in Cumberland. We were a bottleneck of converging points for Maryland, West Virginia, and Pennsylvania, but Virginia wasn’t far either. Locals wandered little. We liked our mountains, but we knew where the state lines were. Still, I bent over the map to study the red lines Clara had added to it. “Teddy sometimes headed up the Appalachians to forage. The dragon didn’t begrudge him that.”

“Your father wasn’t bound to a demon.” Clara tapped the map. “That said, once things settle down, Menolac and I wouldn’t refuse a brief hike to top off your supplies if you give us the courtesy of a phone call first.”

My lips thinned. “How brief?”

“Ten days.”

“Twenty,” I countered. “I’m a druid. Plants mature and bloom in different seasons and at varying times during each of those seasons. I might skate by with three days in the winter, not as much to look for once the snow flies, but I need five days, minimum, for spring, summer, and fall. I’ll have to spread the days out to stagger my harvesting according to plant life cycles, but five days per season are do-able.”

“Agreed.”

“You’ve ceded all of Maryland, including Garrett County. The territory in Maryland stretches as far East as Hancock.” I settled my water bottle on the table so I could trace the lines marked on the map. “The eastern panhandle of West Virginia in its entirety, too, and the northern tip of Virginia, as far south as Winchester.”

“If you go past Hancock in Maryland, you’ll run into trouble with magicals on the coast.” The mage nodded. “South, though, no one will stand in your way until Richmond, where a sorcerer has staked his claim.”

I studied the map. Our territory would be half the size of Menolac’s, but Clara had marked our nexus at with a ruby red star. The other hunter team’s land had no such additions, barring the dragon she’d sketched over the whole of Pittsburgh. No one, of course, knew where the dragon’s nest was located. Still. “You’re giving up the nexus.”

“That’s the deal. Should Menolac or I desire to visit the nexus to draw power from it should the nexus truly awaken, we would extend you the same courtesy of a phone call no more than five days seasonally. Otherwise, it will be yours.” Clara leaned back in her seat, muscles relaxing. “And if anyone unfriendly portals through the nexus, we will be on standby as additional support, if needed.”

Nexuses were a boon to whoever was a guardian of one. Magic bloomed inside them in ridiculous abundance, so much that magicals traveled extreme distances to soak up power emanating from the distinct zones where the barriers between realms thinned and rare bits of esoteric magic could be worked. If ours activated, the power Jae and I would be capable of drawing upon would skyrocket, but the trade-off for the boost in power was the trouble of managing other magicals seeking the same. Not to mention that occasionally, like Jae, other beings slipped through the veil from their realm to ours.

“I would speak to the prince of the Aerie tribe about the dragonets,” Jae said.

I flashed an irritated glance at him. “Thoughts on our territory boundaries?”

He shrugged. “The dragon younglings. They are not safe.”

Clara’s mouth curved to a bow. “We will naturally call upon you and your demon should the security of the dragonets at any moment become at risk.”

“Stop bribing my demon with dragon babies.” I aimed a swift kick at Jae’s clawed foot. “Pretend to care about the map, please.”

Jae snorted. “The land is sufficient.” He pinned the mage with a steady gaze. “But I require meeting the dragon and his dragonets and reserve my privilege to act on their behalf to ensure their health, wellbeing, and survival.”

The mage bit her lip. “Assuming you take no action without first consulting Obie’s primary guardian, my Menolac. He’s no First Blood demon, but Mel is as protective, in his way, as you are. Given the loss of Obie’s mate, maybe more so.” She sighed. “I’ll have to speak to Obie, but if the dragon agrees, I’ll arrange for the two of you to meet his kids.”

The deal was reasonable, better than I could’ve hoped for or expected, especially so soon. An hour or two ago, Menolac and Clara had been trying to kill us…but had they? Had they genuinely attacked us? Or had they been testing us, both my demon and the depth and versatility of my power? And perhaps showing off their skills and prowess, too? The speed of the bargain dividing this stretch of the Appalachians suggested that was the case. The fight between Menolac and Jae had been vicious, not to mention bloody, but neither had tapped their demonic magic in the fray. For that matter, as tough as Clara had been as an opponent, her attack hadn’t sought to end me. Though my wrenched knee ached a little, she hadn’t injured me much, either.

They hadn’t intended to destroy us. Not really.

They’d been gauging us for this, sought to judge our metal as potential allies.

The question was, did we want them on our side? Left to my own devices and personal preferences, no. I didn’t want allies. I wanted the world to leave me the hell alone, but I was a realist…sometimes. We wouldn’t survive long without partners guarding our backs. That meant joining a guild, the Towpath, and reaching out to magicals and beings whose territory neighbored ours to negotiate a mutually beneficial relationship or, barring that, a truce. Ideally, the former rather than the latter.

Did I trust Clara Trask? Or her demon? No. But I didn’t need to rely on them to grasp that Jae and I coping with the mess and troubles of an awakening nexus in Cumberland made the mage’s life easier. My youth even helped her because, from her perspective, she could mentor and mold me to best suit her purposes, which was to dump the chaos of the nexus as much as practicable in my lap. Clara and her demon just wanted to maintain the comfortable life they’d built for themselves in Pittsburgh, where a motherfucking dragon had given them free reign of the territory. Did I trust them? No. But I recognized Jae and I were Clara and Menolac’s ticket to keeping their sanctuary inviolate and strong. We were their best shot at peace. I could rely on that.

“Okay,” I said. “You help us stay alive for the next week and we’ll be your firebreak. Keep the chaos from flooding north.”

“We understand each other then.” She withdrew a dagger from the same vest she’d hidden the map and pricked her palm until a stingy drop of blood beaded. Then she reached across the table to pass the blade to me.

Jae knocked it away before I could grab it. “No.” He snatched my outstretched hand, turning my palm up, and I sucked in a sharp breath at the sting of his claw piercing my skin. “Now you may proceed.”

Rolling her eyes, Clara pocketed her blade. “I wasn’t poisoning him.”

“The blood oath will be stronger for Jae’s participation in creating it,” I said. Also, I didn’t trust our new allies, so my demon approaching the bargain with intense paranoia made sense.

Clara offered me a tentative smile as she clasped my wounded hand.

With a satisfied grin, Griffith lifted both his hands to encompass Clara’s grasping mine. “Towpath witnesses the alliance struck.”

The heat of the blood magic crept up my arm, to my torso, and spread throughout my body in a fiery, consuming wave that kicked my heartbeat to a gallop and gathered sweat at my nape. Clara used her free hand to dab her brow with a handkerchief. “Griff has my cell number. Call me in a few days and if Obie will tolerate it, I’ll set up that meeting. In the meantime, try not to kill any of the other demons hunting you. Some of them are friends and will be yours too once the murder instinct fades. Many will back off once the news of our alliance spreads, anyway.”

Jae grunted. “They are slow, soft, and lazy.”

“Not helping,” Griffith said through gritted teeth.

“A First Blood demon hasn’t portaled to us in a couple centuries.” Clara snickered. “Maybe our demons aren’t as eager to destroy you as you think.”