Page 34 of Warlocks Don’t Win (Singsong City #9)

Chapter

Nineteen

“ S age House?”

I looked around the immaculate front hall, the large portrait of our engagement above the table and enormous bouquet of fresh flowers on the wall the stairs wrapped around.

The tiles were green and white marble checks, the trim shiny dark green making the crisp white wall pop.

We could have a ball here if it came to that.

His hand tightened on my waist. “Did you get the information you needed?”

“I don’t know. Dire did have some useful things to say.”

He rumbled his displeasure. “You seemed to enjoy dancing with him.”

“He was an extremely skilled dancer, but I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Then I suppose I don’t have to kill him.”

I sniffed. “He’s already dead. I didn’t expect everyone to be so supportive of me turning your co-star into a toad. Did you?”

He nuzzled my hair, still standing there, hand on my waist, wrapped around me like we were in a dance position ready for a quadrille or something else historical.

“Of course. I was subtly influencing all the minds there. It didn’t take a lot of effort, though.

You’re too interesting a character to throw away. ”

“Oh.” He’d just manipulated the mind of everyone there? “I really don’t think that’s neutral magic.” His hand felt so good on my waist.

“You asked me to work on Parody’s mind.”

“I was certain you’d refuse.”

“I would never refuse you.”

“You just let her drape herself all over you.”

“I was trying not to kill the vampire until you’d gotten the information out of him. And don’t say, ‘he’s already dead,’ because I know perfectly well how to kill vampires, and if you can kill something, they aren’t dead enough.”

“Didn’t you invite him? It’s a little awkward to try and kill someone you personally invited.”

“He didn’t have to dance with you like that.” There was something odd about his voice.

I craned my head to look up at the Warlock who held me in his arms, but stayed behind me like he didn’t want to look at my flawless makeup job. He looked mad. Wild eyes, expression of rage, like he’d mindlessly eat a toad without noticing it was still alive and telling him he was a real human.

“Are you all right?” I slowly asked. Come to think of it, he’d brought us here through a portal made of energy, rage, and madness. Channeling that kind of energy was absolutely not a good idea, particularly for a nice neutral witch like the Warlock Detective.

His eyes met mine and then the madness vanished, swallowed up by his facade of absolute civility.

Watching it was like getting hit in the stomach, all the air rushing out of me in a moment of startling clarity.

He was completely mad. Also, he wasn’t a neutral witch, or a witch at all, most likely, and, and, and…

He smiled politely. “Can I get you something? You’re probably hungry. We never made it to the snack table.”

“You’re terrifying,” I finally said.

He nodded. “I know. You were supposed to be equally as terrifying, but it turns out you were the most sincere, innocent, good witch in the world. Would you like me to break the bindings before or after you subdue the house and break the curse? Or you could forget about it. It’s not worth the effort. ”

I blinked at him a few more times. “Break the binding?” Also, he’d come to me to break the curse. I wasn’t going to forget about that just because Winston had temporarily gone mad. Or been mad from the beginning. Whatever.

“Yes. I’ve done some research. It would involve some extremely dark magic, ripping apart souls, that kind of thing, but I’m more than capable.”

“I don’t want you to rip apart my soul.”

He gave me a slight smile, only a flash of dimple before it disappeared. “No, Clary. My soul. Not yours. I’ve done enough harm to your heart, body, and soul to last me indefinitely.”

“You’re freaking me out. You aren’t a dark sorcerer.”

“No, I’m a dark warlock. Those are even worse.” Again with that charming smile.

“If you were a dark warlock, you’d hardly admit it to me.”

“Why? Would you transfigure me into a toad? I’d be delighted.”

I shook my head rapidly. “Stop it. I don’t have time for this. I need to break the curse before your grandmother dies. You love her.”

“I think you love her much more than I ever did. You still think she’s the one who didn’t forget about you, who kept hope alive. Those letters. Such a stupid idea, but I have no shortage of those, particularly where you’re concerned. Do you know how seductive you are?”

I blinked at the change of topic. “Yes, well, my magic is based on the same kind of energy exchange as a succubus so…”

“You seduce with goodness. Your loyalty is sickeningly determined. The fourth letter I wrote to you, playing my grandmother, so naturally I had to show some censure towards the fiancé who testified against you. You wrote back: ‘His response to evil and injustice only prove his strength of character and inherent goodness.’ The irony, my darling Sage, is that I was the evil and injustice, seeking revenge without any scruples, while you were all the strength of character and inherent goodness. Were you being ironic intentionally? That’s when I did some digging. Your mother didn’t murder anyone.”

I blinked at him. Speaking of digging. “Excuse me? I dug graves with her.”

“Every supposedly missing person is alive and well. The few that talked explained that Madame Sage read their future for a trade of their life force, the exchange needing absolute secrecy for reasons she was unwilling to divulge.”

“She read their future?” I squinted at him searching for the madness he kept so meticulously covered.

“She wasn’t a fortune teller. She didn’t even wear a turban.

You’re being ridiculous. Why don’t you go into the kitchen and see if the butler left any sausage rolls.

He was supposed to deliver them to Salem Coven, but I didn’t explicitly tell him that. I just assumed he would.”

He moved closer to me, looking at my mouth with slightly too much intensity so my heart beat in my throat and I had difficulty swallowing.

“You’d prefer to break the bindings after?

Then you will use my energy, life force, magic, to defeat it.

” He slowly, carefully traced my jaw from my chin to my ear.

“The only trouble is that my willingness to break these bindings comes and goes. I’m not like you, inherently good.

I’ve made it an effort, a study, to protect, to defend, to be a force for light, but every beat of my body down to the molecular level requires that I possess you.

If you hadn’t left me to practice control for ten years, you would already be mine without recourse to logic or sensibility. ”

I shivered and then smiled brightly. “You should have played a dark sorcerer all along. You’re very good at acting like one. I’m almost convinced.”

His eyes softened. “Almost?”

I pulled away, catching his hand and tugging it down. “We’ll talk about unbindings and morality after I wage war on the house. The heart of the house is probably my mother’s bedroom. That’s good. I can lay on the bed during the entire thing.”

He squeezed my hand. “That works for me. Some of my happiest memories involve that bed.”

I turned and dragged him up the stairs, well-polished, glowing beneath the glowing chandelier. The house was content. I’d polished it well and fed it the energy of my shop. It wasn’t going to be abandoned.

“No, you aren’t going to be abandoned, but you are going to break the curse.”

A stair creaked in protest.

“I’m serious. You can’t just curse people. You have to break it now.”

The air contracted and expanded, like it was sniffing at me. Dismissive. That’s what that was.

“I command you, Sage House, as Clary Sage, ruler and heir of Salem Coven, to stop this nonsense right now.” The air crackled as I expanded my will against the soul woven into the fibers of the place.

Every burned witch, every heir since, their wills and lives had become part of its life, its awareness.

It was strong. But I was determined. I would save Winston’s grandmother, even if she wasn’t the one who hadn’t forgotten about me.

The house showed its power.

I fell with Winston, through the floor, deeper, deeper, past the basement and into a crypt filled with crumbling bones. This wasn’t the family mausoleum. This was the roots of the house.

For a second I lay on the piles of bones, the breath knocked out of me, but I slowly scrambled upright, a skull rolling beneath my foot. Charming.

“Winston?” I whispered.

“He’s not here,” my mother’s ghost appeared, shedding light on the situation, green creepy light, but light all the same. “What are you doing? What is this place? Oh, I remember. I had to come here when I challenged the house as heir.”

“You challenged the house as heir? Why?”

“Because my aunt was tired of it and had no female heirs. She made it sound so glamorous to rule the Salem Coven and all that entailed. In all humility I made it glamorous. It’s all about presentation.” Presentation, yes. Humility, not so much.

“Yes, well…” I slid on another skull and fell into the splits then tumbled sideways, bruising my hip rather badly.

Urgh. “Winston said you never actually killed anyone.” I stared up at the green lit roof of the dripping rough rocks.

This would make quite a nice smuggling space if you could get rid of the skulls.

They were a hazard. Definitely not up to current safety standards.

“Did he? Nosy fellow. Always ruining my plans. You were going to bring Sage House back to greatness, but instead you fell for that ridiculous man.”