Bloodring (17 page)

I should stop. There was something wrong with all this power so easily given. But I was empty, empty to a bone-cold depth. So I yielded and filled all the empty amulets in the loft. All the stones that protected and served me. I drew in enough excess energy to recharge the bloodstone hilt of my walking stick. And then a bit more. Just a bit, to warm me, feeling myself expand to contain it.

Immediately I was unsteady, mentally inebriated, physically nauseous. It was more than a psychic reaction. A lot more. My skin, muscles, torso, felt heated, engorged. I swallowed heavily and put out a hand to stabilize myself. I had pulled in too much, yet the amethyst energies still demanded to be used, an external pressure. A faint headache started, my blood beating with an irregular cadence of pain. When I looked around, my loft was a bower of blissful might, pulsing with color as if I could see the energies of every atom.

A knock sounded. I groaned. It had to be Rupert and Audric. With a sick moan I shut down my receptors and broke the protective ring, kicking aside the salt. Wavering as if drunk, I blanked my skin, tied the amulets beneath my tunic, called out that I was coming, and swept up the salt, dumping it into its bag. Movement made me want to throw up. Yeah, I was drunk, as drunk as a skunk, power drunk. I heard myself giggle and stifled it.

Taking up the walking stick, I felt power flowing through the bloodstone hilt, deep within the stone's crystal matrix. The handle was a prime amulet, one of two Lolo charged to my genetic code the week after I was born. After I damaged the other one, the bloodstone handle was my best defense. Barefoot, warm, I walked to the door and opened it.

Audric was alone, dressed in a loose and flowing black martial uniform, a scarlet belt of status tied, just so, at his waist, his blades at rest, hilts toward the floor. Though many humans practiced the art form and fighting techniques, I hadn't known he was a practitioner of savage-chi and savage-blade until I saw him in the alley only minutes ago. Now it seemed he not only wanted me to know, he wanted to grind my face in the fact that he was a master. His dark eyes met mine from his great height, and when he spoke, his tone was formal. “Are you well?”

His words held a hidden meaning.
Thorn happened.
He had seen my flesh in the alley, had to know I was a supernat. But did he know what kind? I sighed. “You want to talk here or downstairs?” My way of asking who knew besides him.

“Here. Rupert is cleaning up. Jacey has an early customer.”

I stood aside and he entered, his bulk dwarfing me. Audric was bigger than the kylen. A lot bigger. “Who were they?” he asked.

“I never saw them before. They were waiting in the alley.” As I talked, I moved to my armoire and pulled on a pair of socks, planting my story. “When Rupert reached the mouth of the alley, they rushed him. Threw a cloth over him and he was gone before I could blink. I grabbed my walking stick—because it was the only thing resembling a weapon—and ran after them. I bumped one into the wall and hit the other with the stick several times. They dropped Rupert and the wall fell. Probably because its mortar was rotten and the guy hitting it dislodged enough to . . .” At the expression on his face, I let my words fall silent.

Audric's gaze was deep, grave, with the Zen-like silence of his training. And something more. Prickles traced up my spine, helping dispel the sense of drunkenness.
Thorn happened.
I gave up the pretense and dropped onto my cushy couch, pulling up my feet and wrapping my arms around my knees, a defenseless pose, but with my walking stick secured between knees and chest, blade loosed. And I still had the kris strapped to my forearm. “Okay. Let's talk.”

Audric settled onto the couch, but he didn't look relaxed. He lay his blades across his lap, prepared for battle. “You are neomage, out of Enclave, hiding. I assume you ran following an infraction. Or banishment. This I have suspected for some time.”

I should have attacked. Audric tensed as the thought crossed my mind. Not good. I had telegraphed my intent; no human should have been able to pick up on neomage battle reactions. I had become sloppy. I had been away from my people for too long.

Against my training and instincts, I loosened the autonomic muscles that had given me away. Audric mirrored my slight relaxation. I should have thrown everything I had at him, mage-power and blade, hurt him badly, then run. That was what Lolo had prepared me to do if my origins were exposed and I was accused. But Audric hadn't accused me. I hesitated. A conundrum. I had no prearranged plan for this situation. And I didn't want to run, start over somewhere else, as someone else. I had roots here. I had Rupert. Jacey.
Ciana
.

How had Audric known? I opened my mage-sight and examined him. He appeared human, smelled human, moved human slow. As I looked, he touched the lightning-bolt pendant at his throat and relaxed from warrior readiness. Something indefinable slipped aside, as if he dropped shields, as if he had been glamoured, as if a strong conjure had been countered. A glow seeped from Audric, soft coral, like me. Or almost.
“Seraph stones,”
I breathed. “You're a crossbreed.”

“The common term is mule, I believe.” Audric sat relaxed, peaceful, waiting.

I closed off mage-sight and looked at him, astonished. He wasn't in my thoughts, driving me insane. I hadn't been tested against half-breeds before I was sent away, and clearly I should have been. Lolo would have sent one or more with me into hiding. Surely.

Joy budded in the depths of my heart, tremulous, half disbelieving.
I'm not alone.
When I spoke, my voice was breathless, scratchy, and I had to stop and clear it. “Not even a human would find you common, Audric. And the term is insulting.”

“Indeed,” he said, his tone and words still formal. “We call ourselves the second-unforeseen. Or—for the neomage-human crossbreeds who desired to sire children or enjoy the full physical delights of mating—the cursed.” He canted his head. “I too am in hiding, for an incident which I will not discuss.”

“Are you a seraph-bound warrior or mage-bound?”

“Neither,” he said simply.

I looked at him in surprise. A free half-breed was a rare being, almost unknown. When he didn't elaborate, I asked, “What will we do now? Who else knows?”

“Your scars have been noted at times over the years, while you were working in back. They are”—he paused carefully—“distinctive.”

Unconsciously, I smoothed my sleeves along my arms, aware of the spawn-claw shapes, uniform, three fingered and deep.

“Rupert and Jacey have speculated that you are half-breed. Neither have guessed about me. But if Rupert remembers the melted snow in the alley or your unglamoured skin, he will realize, as I did, that you are fully neomage.” Rumors had always abounded about neomages hiding in the human population, though to my knowledge, none had ever been substantiated. Until now. It suddenly occurred to me that I was proof the rumors were true. I considered carefully, knowing my power-drunk judgment was suspect.

“The two in the window saw the broken alley wall. It affected them personally, so it was likely all they saw. The wall was old; its falling made sense. The clouds outside hold frozen rain, which could easily create the frozen mess there now. I think Rupert was knocked loopy. And the melt will have refrozen by now, partially hiding my error,” I said, watching his serene eyes. “May I suggest we do nothing? Keep each other's secret from the humans?”

Audric relaxed even more and a hint of amusement crossed his face. “A neomage and a crossbreed living in the same town? One of us divorced, the other living with a human man? What would they say?”

“If the humans knew? Too much. But Rupert has to know. If you've been”—I searched for a polite term and felt my face burn—“intimate.”

“We're not all totally without physical characteristics. He believes my differences are the result of an accident when I was a child.”

“Oh.” That sidestepped the issue nicely, which made me even more curious, but I couldn't think of a polite way to ask what he looked like naked, so I changed the subject. “I've never met an unforeseen,” I said, using the new designation.

“Second-unforeseen. Neomages were the prime-unforeseen.”

That generated another question, and before I considered whether it might be rude, I asked, “Do you have souls?”

He inclined his head, the lights gleaming off his bald pate. “It is said that we do.”

Sorrow pricked at me, sharp in my drunkenness. Striving to be as formal as he, I said, “I may have met another like you today. One in the alley appeared human, but he knew savage-chi.” I thought back to the alley, parsing each sensation. “I cut him. His blood smelled wrong, not entirely human. And he was spelled with Darkness.”

“Ahhh,” Audric breathed. “Living in Enclave is the only way for second-unforeseen children to be truly safe. The war art is taught to all of us before we leave Enclave as adults, to find and bond with a seraph, to battle minions of the Darkness. Most of us are not fortunate enough to find a winged warrior for war partner, and we either return to Enclave to bind with a mage or enter the human world, often teaching chi as a way to survive.” He worried his jaw back and forth, thinking. “It is perfectly legal to teach humans the art, as long as no Dark humans receive instruction. A Darkness may have drawn in unbound ones. Or perhaps a neomage teacher is in rebellion.”

“Lolo would have heard if so.”

“You are of the New Orleans Enclave. I originated in Seattle Enclave,” he said. “The one you sensed might have been conscripted by a Power, but we cannot assume no primes have joined them unbeknownst to the mage council. Or perhaps a captive was bred to humans kept by the Darkness.”

I shrugged. “It's getting complicated.”

“It's always complicated. Let's consider the threats we face.” Audric bent, crossed his blades on the floor before him, and settled into the cushions, resting his hands on his knees as if meditating. “Lucas sends Rupert stone from Linville. While carrying some of the stone, he's attacked. His blood is spilled. He disappears along with the stone except for small fragments, found by happenstance, by a Stanhope cousin. One who shares the same genetic structure. This stone, and this man, affect you in a peculiar way.”

“Noticed that, did you?”

“With the stone is a letter claiming Lucas found it while cleaning out his grampa's belongings, but the original discoverer is unknown, and it is possible we may never find out who discovered it.”

“The old man was a notorious money-grubber. His own grandson can't see him not exploiting an opportunity to mine it himself.” I set aside my weapon, reached into a basket at my feet and pulled out a pad and pen, flipped past several jewelry designs to a blank page and sketched a globular outline of the relationships and events so far.

“A previously unknown Stanhope cousin is in the mountains,” Audric continued, “and is sent here just at this time, by the matriarch.”

“Coincidence?”

“Is there such a beast?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “The blood spilled in the alley where Lucas was attacked was removed, indicating devil-spawn were present, or close enough to be drawn by the scent. In the hills of nearby counties, spawn are drinking blood. In Linville, where Gramma lives, where the stone was stored, a family was drained. I asked a few questions when I heard of it. They were Stanhopes, distant relations.”

I didn't like the direction this was taking, but it was making an awful kind of sense. “They were looking for the stone?”

“Or for Stanhopes. A daywalker has spoken to Ciana, also a Stanhope,” he said, worry lines growing at his eyes. “Now a second-unforeseen has attacked a Stanhope. Because he was spelled with Darkness, we may consider the possibility that a Power, seeking that bloodline, was involved with Lucas' kidnapping. Lucas' letter stated that Stanhopes are in danger, and though we don't yet know why, it must be related to Benaiah Stanhope. I had thought the focal point of this conundrum was the amethyst, but it could be Stanhope blood.” He thought a moment more. “I will escort Ciana to school each day and back here or home. She and Rupert must be protected.”

Relief flooded through me. “Thank you.”

“And now we have to go to the cops,” he said, dropping the formality.

I looked away from him but saw the smile he smothered.

“I'm not particularly fond of them myself. No unforeseen is. But the Stanhopes need the police to be involved. If we don't go to them and Ciana or Rupert is taken or killed, we couldn't live with it. Up, mage. And dress appropriately for the weather this time.”

“At least I wasn't half naked.”

“I am a specimen of great beauty. You are privileged to have looked upon me.”

I snorted, and Audric laughed. I was no longer alone.

 
At the LEC, Officer Litton listened to our story as sleet fell in the streets and alleys. It took an hour to fill out all his papers and another until his superior could meet with us. Captain Durbarge met us in the Law Enforcement Center's cafeteria, and as he entered, I felt Audric disguise a flinch in a small yawn, and stretch as if he had been sitting too long, the denim of his shirt and jeans too tight. As he moved, he touched his necklace, the amulet hiding his neomage genetic heritage. That meant Audric sensed something about the cop.

I sent out the faintest skim and withdrew instantly.
Sweet seraph!
An Administration of the ArchSeraph Investigator! I drew on my bear amulet to double-damp my skin as the small man sat across from us, and then realized that wasn't smart. AASIs, called
asseys
by the disrespectful, sometimes recognized the use of power. The investigator had hooded, droopy eyes, giving him a deceptively somnolent look. He wore an old-fashioned, black wool suit with a starched white shirt and a fringed black scarf looped around his neck. Durbarge opened a black leather case, revealing an AAS ID sigil, wings and halo, the clear crystal glittering with archseraph energies. I was careful to keep my neomage paws away. It was said such sigils would sometimes glow in the presense of a mage. “I'm Captain Durbarge with the AAS. What can you tell me about the attack you just reported?”