Chaos Burning (7 page)

Portia knelt next to her, looking. “What the hell is that?”

“It’s Other, that much I know.” She pulled out her little notebook and jotted down some impressions. “It’s not mage. It’s not turned witch. Not Were, not vamp. I don’t know what it is, but I know what it isn’t. So let’s keep looking.”

She did so, keeping low and catching more from that angle than she would have standing. Learned that one from her father. Smart criminals tried to wipe their tracks, but they often forgot what clung to carpet in corners or the feet of chairs and couches.

Lark continued to move through the house, going room by room. At the end she got to her feet.

“Your witches were taken. Taken by a turned witch and something else. I don’t know what. I’ll consult with some people I know to see if they have any suggestions.”

“I can’t believe I missed that.” Dray hung his head.

“Next time, get on your hands and knees. You’ll miss less that way. Otherwise, it’s not like this is taught in third grade. You can’t beat yourself up over it. What you can do though is make sure your witches have decent wards on their homes. If this house had been warded better, they may have had the time to at the very least have called for help. They had shitty locks and they had shitty wards. It would have been embarrassingly easy to walk in to this house.”

“Vivienne, the Septiem, she wants to meet you before you go back. If you could bring it up, then I’d appreciate it. She’s old school. It was hard to ask for help, but she did. So if you could find a way to bring up the inefficacy of the wards, it would be better received from you.” Portia shrugged.

Many clan leaders of Edwina’s generation were prideful and hesitant to make necessary changes. Lark understood a lot of it. Part of it was that they were proud and they loved their rules and liked to be in charge of their own little fiefdoms. But mainly it was that witches had thousands of years of bad examples of what happened when humans found out about them. None of them was anxious to expose their people to angry mobs and inquisitors again.

But there was no way to avoid the fact that change was coming whether they wanted it to or not. “All right. On to the yard and surrounding area and then to their workplaces, please.”

When they got outside, a Were waited at the fence line. “Did you find them?”

Lark went over. “I hope we can. Did you see anything?”

“This is Hansen. He’s a member of the local pack. We interviewed him yesterday. Hansen, this is Lark; she’s a hunter from another clan out here to help us track Brandy and Ernie.”

Hansen nodded. “Good. I didn’t see anything on Tuesday or yesterday. I got in late Tuesday, early Wednesday. Was out for a run with my friends. The lights were on over there. But Brandy was a night owl. Worked on her loom. She’s a weaver. I feel like crap for not knowing they were missing. I’ve been their neighbor for four years. They’re good people.”

“Hansen, can I ask a favor of you?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“I’m tracking with my magick. Have you shifted and gone over the area at all? You see things on a whole different level and I’d appreciate your perspective.” Another thing they were stupid not to do, engage the help of those Others who could give it. Like a sharp-nosed werewolf for instance.

“I’d be honored.”

He shifted, scented and went around the entire property, through the house and came back out to them once again wearing a human skin and clothing.

“First I need to tell you we’ve had our own disappearance recently. I wasn’t at the scene afterward, but from what I understand, the scents were much like those here. I’m not supposed to talk about it with outsiders, but this has gone on long enough.
I’m going to call my Alpha to see if we can’t share some info.” And then he told her all he’d found around the scene.

“SO
this is what we know. Two Others entered the house from the rear. They used some sort of magic to subdue Brandy in her workroom and then went to Ernie where he was sleeping in their bedroom. They took them out the same back door and through the alley. They must have put them in a vehicle because the scent and magick imprints disappear at that point. Their neighbor, a werewolf from your local pack, shifted and investigated around the area. We may have a lead on the type of car they were in.”

Vivienne Septiem nodded. “I thank you so much for coming up here on such short notice. What’s next?”

“Dray and Portia are working on the vehicle leads. The local pack has offered to help and will get back to me later today on whatever, if anything, they find. They seem very eager to help. They like your witches. Moreover, they have a missing packmember as well. The situation is very similar. Similar enough that I believe they are connected. Which of course means this is far more organized and with a wider focus than we first believed.”

“Why would they attack witches and Weres? We’re different. Are you sure it’s not just a coincidence?”

Thank heavens Meriel hadn’t said anything like that when Lark had called her just an hour before to update her on the situation.

“We both have magick. That’s the common thread and we’re working on that angle now. As for Brandy and Ernie…” Lark sighed. “A big plus is that their neighborhood is pretty special. Not only are there a lot of Others around, but they’ve all come out of the woodwork with offers to help. I’m working with the people in Gennessee and Owen archives to pinpoint the signature I didn’t recognize. One of the witches from your archive went out this morning and he doesn’t recognize it either but he’s working on that as well.”

Vivienne sat back and held Lark’s gaze. “How long do we have? I mean, realistically, are they still alive?”

“Every minute we don’t find them makes that less and less a possibility. Which is why Dray put three shifts on it. You need to get everyone warded.” She explained the warding situation at Brandy and Ernie’s house. “I know it seems like we can handle anything. And if they’d been caught in another situation, they most likely could have. But from everything I’m seeing, they were stalked for some time before they were taken. Which means others may be in danger of the same thing.”

“We never used to have to worry about this.”

“Brave new world. Now we’re juicy steaks to starving, desperate criminals. We have the ability to protect ourselves. We should do that.”

Lark went on to explain the training Dray and Portia were going to implement with some of the other East Coast witches. Some of which were in the process of creating clans or at the very least covens. The era of the lone witch, at least when they were so targeted, was over. They had to unite or they risked exposure and worse.

And yet three days later when she left Toronto, it was with the memories of having to tell Vivienne they’d found the abused and abandoned dead bodies of their missing witches. Brandy had been brutalized far more than the others they’d found. It was more than just draining her magick, something far more sadistic had come to play and while Lark hoped it was just that onetime thing, she had a sinking feeling in her gut that this might be the new normal.

Chapter 6

“I
don’t know why you have to be so good at everything.” Lark looked up, and up some more until she met Simon’s gaze. He’d offered her the refuge of his home, as if by instinct he’d known she needed it, needed the solace of friendship and safety away from the ugly reality of her job.

Nonplussed, he shrugged. “I could say the same of you.”

She tossed her cards down. “Not with this hand.”

He laughed. “Nope.”

“Not like you don’t have enough money.” She waved a hand around.

“It’s a nice life.”

“Understatement.” She stood. “All right. I need a swim. I must tell you how many benefits there are to being your friend. Pool. Great land to run. Home gym to drool over. You’re pretty okay to look at too. Top-shelf booze. You like cards and scary movies and you never complain about how many calories are in whatever you’re eating.”

“You’re always welcome to enjoy my place.”

She did. And she appreciated it. Over the last month or so she’d been in Seattle, she’d come to really enjoy the time she
spent at Simon’s house. And to value the friendship of the man who owned it. So funny how they’d clicked so well, right from the start. She had real friends in Seattle and the way things were going, the darkness descending on them, she’d needed that connection.

“Thank you. I mean that.”

There was a long moment between them and he shook his head as if to free himself from it. He grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever been here when you used the pool. I admit to being curious as to what you’d wear to swim in. Come on. I’ll meet you down there. You can make me lunch when we finish.”

She socked his arm and her knuckles hurt. He was solid. Like a damned tank. And she couldn’t tell a lie, she was pretty interested to see how he filled out swim trunks.

“Fine. You did grill the last time I was here. I suppose it’s my turn.”

She headed into the spare room he’d generously assigned her. A place she could put her stuff when she came out to run or use the pool or garden. The view was stunning from in there. As it was pretty much from everywhere else in the house.

Simon Leviathan had become a friend. A person who never judged, though clearly she amused him and possibly offended his sense of style. He played cards, drank, smoked cigars, stayed up late and had impeccable taste. He also enjoyed things like making bullets and going to the shooting range. He was a total dude, but in the least annoying way possible. Nothing to complain about at all except for the way they got constantly interrupted by women coming on to him.
That
bugged her. Yes, sure, she got that their thing wasn’t
that kind
of thing. But women who just walked up between a man and the woman he’s having a drink with to blatantly come on to the guy were jerks.

Changing quickly, she gave herself a look over her shoulder at her back and butt. Helena had given her the suit for her last birthday. It showed more skin than she usually did, but it fit well and made her feel sexy so that was a win.

Though she was more pale than usual because she’d been inside so much, the view still wasn’t that bad at all. Just because he was in the guy-friend camp didn’t mean she wasn’t going
to look nice. He was, after all, ridiculously handsome so she’d be slacking if she didn’t at least try to keep up.

Grabbing a towel, she headed through the breezeway toward the pool house. Not that she’d catch up to him in the looks category. He was beautiful. As if he’d just stepped from an issue of
GQ
for Others. Smooth. Debonair, clever. His clothes were expensive and tailored. They didn’t make his size off the rack anyway, so she supposed tailoring was a necessity.

Not that he was unaware of his appeal. She found it charming. He knew he was hot shit and he worked it. Never to anyone else’s detriment, which is probably why it was charming instead of douchey.

On the other hand, she was sloppy and silly and awash with color. She knew it and was just fine with it. It made her happy and that’s what counted. She’d given up trying to be something she wasn’t a long time ago. She wouldn’t be gorgeous and classy like Helena or Meriel. But she was Lark, one hundred percent, and that was important.

SIMON
didn’t know what he expected but he paused at the doorway to just look awhile. To look at Lark with her hair down as she put her towel on a chaise longue.

Tiny, yes. Especially when compared to him. But she had curves she’d only hinted at in her normal daily outfits. In a bikini, this was not anything
hinted
at. The way the top clung to a spectacularly perfect set of tits didn’t hide a thing. Boy-short bottoms, which he approved of mightily, only accentuated her ass, which was high and tight and round. Longer legs than he’d thought.

She was in shape, which he knew of course having worked out with her a few times. Her job would demand such a thing and she took care of her body like she took care of her weapons.

Tattoos marked her back. Clan runes, he knew. Blue violets scattered from one shoulder to the opposite hip. There were others but she took that moment to turn and smile.

“Wow. Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She said this as if he knew what she meant before she dove in.

He joined her and they did laps for some time until she stopped in the shallow end. “You win. You’re a machine.” She headed to her towel and then settled herself on the chaise.

“I’m not a machine, I’m Lycian.” He grinned and joined her.

“Same thing apparently.”

“Whiner.”

She laughed then. “Totally.”

“You hate to lose don’t you, little pixie?”

“I do. You can’t imagine the sadness this used to bring my mother. She wanted us to be cooperative and nice to each other. She wanted a commune but she
so
didn’t get that. Instead my sister and I constantly challenged each other. Nothing is too small for us to compete over.”

“I hear that. I’ve got a great many siblings and we’re that way as well.”

“I imagine Lycian parents see this as a good thing.”

“Have to protect the pack. It’s our job. It’s what we were born to do. But they don’t want us to really hurt each other. A little blood won’t kill you though.”

“My mother would say, can’t you two just cheer each other on? Why do you have to fight?”

“Because that’s how you get hard for battle.”

She blinked up at him. “Yes, exactly. My father understands. He’s a hunter after all. But we’re his girls; he hates to see us get so cutthroat.”

“I hear sadness in your voice.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

She settled back and looked up, out through the glass roof covering the pool house.

“Helena and I are ten months apart. We’ve always been close. Oh sure, we fight, we compete, that sort of thing. But I know without a doubt that if I needed her, she’d be there. Half the time I don’t even need to say it, she just knows. She’s my best friend. We grew up with a father who ran the hunter squad for the clan and a mother who reengineers felt into clothing and accessories and sells her wares online and at craft fairs. That’s not fair to my mother actually. She’s an artist and that’s what she does for a living. She’s amazing and creative and loving.
But she’d cut anyone who tried to mess with her family. She’s actually scarier than my father on some levels.”