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Authors: Jenn Bennett

Kindling the Moon (35 page)

BOOK: Kindling the Moon
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“No, that's my sigil. And it's not a wheel, it's a rose. See, these three inner petals in the inside represent alchemical elements. The seven petals around those represent the classical planets, and the outer petals contain the twelve signs of the zodiac. Twenty-two petals total.”

“Twenty-two,” he repeated, tracing the rose with his finger.

“It's an important magical number. It's the number of paths on the Tree of Life in Qabalah, the number of letters in the Hebrew alphabet, and the number of cards in the Tarot's major arcana.”

“Cool.”

“So, now you have my symbol, and that means you have my protection.”


Whoa,
” Jupe murmured.

“I'm real sorry about the mess that put you in that cast,” I said. “Your dad wasn't being a dick about wanting to keep you safe. He had a right to be angry at me. It was my fault.”

“Don't worry. I was never mad about that. You're pretty strong. That was like an old-school wrestling move—you should be a
luchadora
!” An honest smile softened his face and lifted a huge weight from my shoulders.

I grinned back at him, suddenly much happier. “You, my friend, are insane.” Without thinking, I ran a quick hand through his springy curls. He leaned into my hand with the enthusiasm of a dog being scratched behind the ear.

“Will you teach me how you did that invisible spell? Because that was the best part of the whole night. I told Jack about it but he didn't believe me. He thinks magick isn't real.”

I tightened the cap on the marker and handed it back. The dread that I'd kept at bay in the hideout of Jupe's room returned, bringing with it an aching sense of sadness. “To tell you the truth, Jupe, sometimes I almost wish it weren't.”

35

The Big Sur region of California that borders Morella and La Sirena to the south is one of the most beautiful parts of the entire country. Rolling green mountains stretch across one side of Highway One, and the Pacific's waves crash on the other at the bottom of craggy, lush cliffs.

Going this way, instead of taking Five—the faster route— added an extra hour or more to my drive, as Lon tried to point out to me, but I didn't care. The mental serenity it provided was well worth it. It wasn't a weekend, so there weren't
too
many people slowing down traffic by constantly pulling over at scenic spots. I'd hit L.A. after rush hour and would still get to San Diego well before 11 p.m.

“Hard to believe it's real, huh?” I said to Riley Cooper as I drove. “The view, I mean.”

She sat in the passenger seat smacking gum. “Fantastic. I'm kinda sorry you're taking me home. I've never felt so calm and relaxed in my life.”

“Vacation can't last forever.” And neither would my supply of the opiate elixir I'd been using to dose her.

She sighed. “True, true.”

“I'm sorry about the accident, Riley.”

She shrugged. “I feel much better now, no harm done. To tell you the truth, Jane, I'm really glad I came. It was nice to catch up after all these years.” The smile she gave me was so authentic that I almost believed we
were
old friends. Then I reminded myself that the
real
Riley had hurt Jupe.

A couple hours into our drive, I stopped at a gas station and called her father, Magus Zorn, in private on her cell phone, using up the last of her battery. He was alarmed and demanded to speak to her. I refused, but told him that she was okay and wasn't hurt, except for the missing tooth. Like Riley, Magus Zorn denied knowledge of Caliph Superior's whereabouts, but it was hard to tell if he was lying over the phone. Regardless, I told him to make sure his council was ready for me to prove my parents' innocence at midnight. I figured that gave me time enough to talk to them beforehand.

I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I had a terrible headache and was fighting constant nausea. A couple of times I almost blacked out, but it passed quickly. Of course I would manage to get sick during all this, probably from that stupid midnight dip in the ocean.

Early that morning, before I left Lon's house, I scribbled a quick note to him and asked Jupe to deliver it. I made him swear not to read it, but I doubt those kinds of promises mean to much to a stubborn thirteen-year-old.

Dear Neanderthal,

There is no way I could possibly thank you for everything you've done for me, even if you only did it to get me in the sack. No matter what happens, I will pay you back the money you wired to Spooner. My order has it. You may not be a thief, but I don't like being in debt to people. I
was going to tell you some mushy private stuff, but I don't really trust Jupe not to read this. Plus you already know it all anyway, maybe better than I do.

—Cady

It was just after ten when I pulled into a deserted parking lot on the edge of Old Town. I paused to inspect the building across the street. Hard to believe, but there it was, the infamous Luxe Sapphire Temple. The place where the final— attempted—Black Lodge slaying had failed seven years ago. And the place my parents had been framed, when all they'd wanted to do was mediate peaceful talks between the other occult organizations.

As a rule, I usually avoid any of our rival orders' temples and lodges, on the off chance that someone might recognize me; however, one time out of curiosity, I'd driven by this particular building when Kar Yee and I were loping around California after college. The largest occult temple in the world, their website claimed. It was intimidatingly big and contemporary in design, topped with a three-sided triangular blue glass window on the roof; the blue pyramid was lit from the inside and illuminated the night sky like a beacon, easily seen from blocks away. It was so grand and distracting that I almost failed to notice the series of Heka-charged wards around the main parking lot. I had no doubts that if I crossed those wards, I'd be attacked, so I kept my distance.

According to their propaganda, the inner temple held over a thousand people. So crazy. Like one of those megachurches that brings in flocks of attendees every Sunday. Quality, not quantity, as the caliph always said. I wondered if he would be here tonight, and if so, on whose side would he be standing?

I pulled my rental into a dark parking space under a tree
at the edge of the empty lot and rolled down my window. The night air was brisk but energizing. I'd been stuck in the car far too long. Such a shame we didn't arrive in the daytime. After navigating around the brown, smog-filled skyline of L.A., San Diego was the promised land, with warm, clear blue skies and even bluer water.

Dull yellow lights glowed from the smaller windows around the sides of the temple. A handful of cars were parked near an entrance, but I didn't see any people or movement. I patted my jacket, double-checking that the crystal talon was still tucked away safely in the inner pocket. A copy of the White Ice Demon class seal was rolled around the talon for easy access, but I'd also memorized it, and hidden a spare piece of red ochre chalk in the side of my sock, just in case.

Riley was snoring loudly in the seat beside me; I'd dosed her one last time when we stopped outside of L.A. for gas. I'm sure my parents weren't going to be thrilled about the kidnapping. Nothing I could do about it now but own up to it.

Oddly enough, I was nervous to see them. It had been years, after all, since that last time my mom flew from France to see me in college. I'd changed a lot; I was sure they had too. I didn't worry about it for too long, because the air bubbled outside the open driver's window and Scivina materialized.

You are here,
she said stoically.

“Hello to you too. Where are my parents?”

She didn't answer me. Before I could say another word, she faded away.

“Hey!” I cried to the distorted air she left in her wake.

Pissed off, I stepped out of the rental, leaving the door open. A long black limo pulled into the lot. I stuck one foot back inside the car, wary, but the limo door opened and a familiar figure emerged.

“Mom?”

She was wearing a well-cut navy business suit and had her dark hair pinned up, the crown of it now gray. Not only that, but her face was harder; the lines around her mouth were more deeply etched and she'd lost weight. The long, straight nose and deep-set eyes were still the same, but her complexion was sallow. She looked as if she'd aged ten years or more. It broke my heart a little.

My feet didn't want to move. I felt unexplainably shy, like a child. Older or not, she still commanded a great deal of respect. People always said that about her. She could just step into a room and everyone would stop what they were doing to look at her.

She strode to me with outstretched arms. “Darling,” she said, a sliver of her once heavy French accent slipping in.

Her arms folded around me, and I stiffened. Then I smelled her perfume and her hair, and I fell into her. It was like being drawn into a soft, warm cocoon. Everything just went away, all the worry and stress and bad feelings. My persistent headache pulsed a little softer, and I almost forgot why I'd come. None of it mattered. Only that she was there.

The shoulder of her jacket was wet when I pulled away, but I didn't realize I'd been crying.

She held my face in her hands. “Hello, my beautiful girl. It's all okay now, yes?”

I nodded rapidly, sniffling. There was so much I wanted to say, but my tongue was numb. It was all I could do to breathe and stand up straight.

“Seléne.” A low voice sounded from behind her.

I looked over her shoulder to glimpse my father standing there.

“Dad.”

His short walnut brown hair was going gray like my mom's. Especially over his ears. Even his eyebrows were gray.
Jesus, they're old.
My mind recalled all the recent U.S. presidents, the stress of the office rapidly aging them over four years' time—how you could look at before and after photos and be shocked by the difference.

He made a one-word comment to my mom under his breath that I didn't quite catch as she moved out of the way. He was wearing black dress pants and a white shirt with the sleeves folded up to the elbows. He smiled, offering me a gleaming white mouthful of teeth. It was his used-car-salesman smile. I always used to tease him about that. It was worse in photos.

We hugged, briefly, and he pushed me back to look at me before I was ready to end it. Brown eyes darted over my face. “I'm sorry, but we don't have much time, and I need to know a few things.”

“Okay, but I have some good news …”

He gripped my shoulders. “Have you experienced any change in your magical ability?”

Oh, thank God. They knew about the moon kindling. “Two nights ago, I was able to banish an incubus and his mate back to the Æthyr. I didn't summon them.”

“Tell me exactly what happened,” my father instructed. “It is important.”

I told them about the room darkening to black, about the blue light that drew the symbols in the air. My mother cried out, then covered her face with her hands and tilted her head to the night sky.

“What's wrong? Is that bad? Is something wrong with me?” I asked.

She raised both arms up and said something in French,
while my dad grinned his funny grin and patted my back with enthusiasm. “No, no. It's wonderful. Perfect. It is exactly as the old books said it should be. On your twenty-fifth birthday, your powers will manifest.” He grabbed my mother and embraced her as her eyes teared with joy. “We did it, my love. They doubted us, but we did it!” He laughed into her hair and kissed her head several times.

I suddenly felt left out. Hello? Haven't seen me in years? And weren't there more pressing concerns? Annoyance flared up inside me. “So what is this power? And how could it be more important than the Luxe council? You
do
know that they're planning to kill you, right? They tried to kidnap me.” I pointed at Riley's snoozing figure in the car. “That's Magus Zorn's girl—the Luxe leader sent his own daughter after me.”

My mother squinted into the car. “Mmm. She might be useful later.”

“No time for that, Enola.” My dad tapped his watch. “We need to get going.”

“Wait!” I protested. “I have big news. I found the white demon. We can call it to prove your innocence.” My irritation faded, replaced by a surge of excitement as I waited for their reaction.

My dad smiled, and I for a moment I was ten again, being praised for acing a test. But while he was grinning, something slipped out under his breath. “
Merde
.” His mouth barely moved when he said it. My mother poked him on his hip with one finger, admonishing him. His grin got bigger. “That's wonderful. Good job. Well-done. Come here.”

I shook away my confusion and stepped forward to hug him. As my arms went around his neck, a gleam of metal moved in his hand. I barely felt the warmth of his palm against my back when something jabbed the side of my neck.
I cried out, drawing away and reaching over my shoulder. As I did, he pulled back a syringe.

“What—what are you doing?” My fingers found the tiny stinging wound. I shuffled away from them in horror as my vision blurred and doubled. “Dad?” My feet stumbled. A rush of pinpricks slid down my arms. I reached for the open car door to brace myself. Just as I did, my knees quivered.

Numb. Frozen. I was able to see and hear when my face hit the pavement, I just couldn't feel anything. Not my legs or my arms. I wasn't sure I was breathing anymore. That worried me, but I couldn't do a damn thing about it. Confusion clouded my thoughts.

The ground spun and glimmered with light. In the distance, dark shapes bounded out of the Luxe temple, running toward us. Animals, maybe. No, people.

I was surrounded by strong hands. My parents. Another man. They picked me up off the ground and carried me to the limo. The dark figures kept running toward me, but I was inside a tornado and they'd never breach it in time.
If I can't breathe, will I die?
I thought in a druggy haze.

BOOK: Kindling the Moon
2.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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