The Cat's Meow (10 page)

“Damn right I am.” Kale jumped to his feet and pulled a dagger, quite a bit larger than the one he’d given me, out of his other boot. He leaped over the tree trunk much more gracefully than I could have pulled off, and then lunged toward the warlock who had gained the power from the demon.

I wondered how he planned to fight a warlock who now had demon-sized strength without any magic of his own and no damn automatic weapon. I tried to move to help or do
something
, but I had become pinned to the spot.

Kale, like some medieval warrior, bled the bodies around me. Bones cracked, screams rang out, and bodies fell to the ground. His intent became clear; he wasn’t giving them a chance to call upon their magic, and they were dead before they could even think to act.

I attempted to blink, or breathe, but I failed miserably. Kale fought with a skill no warlock I’d ever met or heard of possessed. I could only gawk at him as he ended up behind the second-to-last living warlock with the brown hair, latched onto his head, and then slit his throat. My stomach churned as blood rushed from the wound, and the warlock’s eyes went blank before he dropped to the ground.

When Kale set his eyes on the last warlock who lived, Bryon, I finally gained the ability to think and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Had Kale slaughtered three warlocks in less than a second, with only a single dagger in his hand, and with speed and accuracy that proved this warlock was far more dangerous than I suspected?

“Please…” Bryon backed away from Kale with his hands up in surrender. His dark eyes were wide as he bowed his head. “I know you. I’m sorry. Please. Don’t.”

Kale approached in lengthy strides, which impressed me. I thought him arrogant before, but oh no, I hadn’t seen how deep the trait ran, or the sheer power he controlled.

Grabbing Bryon by the scruff of the neck, he growled, “Enough. You will tell me what you know, or your blood will join the others.”

I blinked…again.

Nothing in the last few seconds made any sense. Not when Kale waited until the demon had been summoned, or when he didn’t save the man, and not even when he’d killed the warlocks without a question or even a split second of hesitation. He hadn’t even given them a chance to explain their actions. When had Kale turned into a cold-blooded killer, and what had spun him to be wound with such rage?

Who the hell was this
warlock?

Chapter Nine

My mouth dropped open and my feet felt frozen on the spot. After a moment to gather myself, I cleared my throat, forced myself to move, and found my way over to Kale as he stood next to the pentagram. I placed my hand on Kale’s arm and he vibrated beneath my touch. “We can use my magic to get what we need,” I said with caution. “I think we can kill the threats.”

The candles below gave off enough light to see Bryon’s face, and when he realized who I was, his eyes went huge. “Libby?” he whispered.

“Hi, Bryon,” I responded, swallowing back the emotion threatening to rise and devour me. “Things not going so good, huh?”

“I…” Bryon stared at me with pained eyes.

While I had worried about this moment, right now it seemed I worried more about Kale, and Bryon took a backseat to my confusion over Kale’s actions. When Kale didn’t respond to my request, I repeated, “Let me help, Kale.”

“We don’t have time.” Kale glanced at me in a dark way that made me gulp, and then he turned his attention to Bryon. “Tell me.”

This business with the Alchemy was obviously personal to Kale, and there was some connection with Bryon. “How do you know each other?”

Kale slowly looked at me. “Personal questions about me are
not
important now, Libby.”

“Not important to you,” I snapped. “Very important to me.”

He stared at me for a long second and then his eyes blazed with power when he focused back on Bryon. “Start talking.”

Bryon stared wide-eyed, and sputtered, “I-I-I…”

Kale’s voice dropped to a deadly low tone. “You have one second to tell me what you know.”

“Tell him,” I said to Bryon. Hell, even I took Kale seriously, and I had no doubt he’d rip his intestines out. Part of me might have wanted that for Bryon, but the other part—the sane and not spiteful part—knew at this point he didn’t deserve it since he hadn’t been the one to raise the demon.

Bryon shut his mouth, drew in a deep breath through his nose to clearly gather himself, and then said, “I’m trying to get away. I don’t want any part of this, but what am I to do? They’ve threatened me.”

Before Kale could gut him, I sighed. “Do you think I’m going to have any sympathy for you? You shouldn’t have been involved with this in the first place. What were you doing? You’re part of the Alchemy, for cripe’s sakes.” I stared at him, incredulous. “And you’re summoning demons.”

Shame darkened Bryon’s terrified baby blues. “I didn’t know. I thought the group wanted to live by their own rules and not conform to what the Alchemy set out. Then as time went on a new warlock joined and it all changed.”

“What warlock?” Kale hissed through gritted teeth.

I squeezed his biceps and wasn’t blind to the way his muscles flexed, or how I liked the way they felt beneath my fingers. How odd it was that in this moment I didn’t see Bryon, all I saw was Kale. “He’s not going anywhere. Release him.” He still held him by the neck, but he turned to me and his eyes radiated vengeance.

After a long moment, he cursed and dropped his hand. “Better.” I looked at Bryon, a warlock whom I once loved enough to burst, and now realized a friendship didn’t even exist between us. The warlock in front of me was in fact a complete stranger. “Go on.”

“I don’t know who the warlock is, but he’s powerful.” He looked at Kale. “Much like you.”

I cocked my head at Kale and regarded him. How odd was
that
statement. Kale held power, that much was obvious after the kick-ass scene a moment ago, but it seemed Bryon sensed something I didn’t. The way he spoke sounded so confident, as if he truly believed in Kale’s abilities. Plus, Bryon said he knew Kale. Alarm bells rang in my mind loud enough they needed to be voiced. “Do you know each other?”

“No.” Kale stared deeply into Bryon’s eyes. I sure had the sense he threatened him to keep his mouth shut. “We’re talking about this matter and nothing else.”

Not good.

At Kale’s impatient nod, Bryon said, “No one spoke of who the warlock was, but I heard whispers that he holds extreme power.”

No shit,
I wanted to say—wasn’t that clear? But I kept my mouth shut as Bryon went on.

“I don’t know who’s behind the rebellion. When I met this new leader I wanted out, since I never signed up to take down the Alchemy. I only wanted out and wanted to live by my own rules. We thought we would create a new coven and a new life for ourselves, not this.” As Kale’s lips parted, he added, “Don’t ask me how he did it, but he got the group to agree with him. Since then they’ve looked for a way to succeed.”

Surprise flashed in Kale’s features. “Why the demon summonings?”

“It’s to get the warlocks beneath this leader to a higher power so when the time comes, they can fight the Alchemy.”

Kale arched an eyebrow, and damn, it even scared me. “They plan to form a straight attack, then?”

Bryon agreed with a nod. “From what I’ve heard that’s the plan. The demons are summoned to raise the power of the warlocks, and then they’ll strike against the Alchemy.”

“How can they even think of doing that?” I shook my head at the absurd logic, unable to keep my thoughts contained. “Even with the assistance of the demon tonight, the warlock was no match for Kale. They will never stand against the High Priests. It’s a suicide mission.”

“These rituals are for the warlocks in the rebellion to gain extreme power,” Bryon replied with a pointed look, and it surprised me that when he looked at me, I felt nothing. No reaction under his stare, not even anger, but maybe because I held a world of suspicion about Kale to mask it. I forced myself to stay focused on the present—not personal thoughts—as Bryon added, “Then the plan is to summon the Prince of Hell Baal on Beltane, and he will destroy the High Priests.”

My blood ran cold as the ground dropped from under me. Tonight, a higher demon in the house of demons had been raised and his plentiful power worried me. Baal, a Prince of Hell, held unfathomable power, and that scared the living shit out of me.

However, what he said made sense—one warlock alone wouldn’t be able to summon Baal and live through it, because Baal’s power would consume him. But if there were more, say twenty, he could be controlled. “They wouldn’t dare!”

“With Baal under their command, no one will be safe,” Bryon stated.

My hands trembled and as I shivered, Kale brushed against me as if he knew I needed the comfort, but it did nothing to chase away the chills. I didn’t want any part of this. I dealt with witches and warlocks who tapped into the darkness in the lightest of ways. No one dug this deep. It wasn’t only stupid, but a Prince of Hell would be less than pleased someone summoned it and demanded anything of it. Were these warlocks out of their goddamn magical minds?

“Beltane is tomorrow night,” Kale said. “Will this rebellion be ready?”

Bryon inclined his head. “New Orleans has been the center of the rebellion’s demon summonings. I’m sure you’ve heard of the rise in deaths there, but more rituals will happen tonight around the United States and will continue until nightfall tomorrow.”

All this news did funny things to my stomach in the worst of ways because it sounded accurate. If all these warlocks tapped into a higher power, then they
might
have a chance to defeat the Alchemy. Plus, with Baal on their side…

Now I had my answers for why Charleston had been targeted. It was simple: some of the warlocks involved were located here. If they weren’t in one central location, and didn’t kill in large numbers, then no one would piece it all together. But if there had been a massive killing by demon summonings, the Alchemy would be alerted and they would pinpoint where the rebellion was centered. But with all the warlocks doing the rituals in their hometowns, it would be thought of as it had been—a matter for the coven to look into, which was exactly what I’d been doing. I wondered if witches around the US were in the exact position I was now and had discovered the grave details of this plan, or maybe continued to search for answers.

“When will the attack happen?” Kale demanded.

Bryon’s face contorted with fear, probably at the look of death Kale gave him. “Before the witching hour the group will gather in Charleston, Baal will be summoned, and the attack will come thereafter.”

Kale jerked his head to me, and his eyes blackened. “We’ll have to intervene before the summoning. Once they summon Baal, we won’t have the means to stop them.”

I fought the urge to raise my hand and say, “There is no
we
in this,” but hadn’t fate thrown me headfirst into the mess? Perhaps standing in front of Bryon now drove my need to see this through. Even if part of me didn’t want to be involved in this trouble, the bigger part of me wanted to be the reason for bringing it down to prove I could. I’d waited a long time for retribution against Bryon, and it seemed now I had a way to gain it.

But Kale forgot an important piece of the puzzle. “What about the cats?” I asked Bryon. “Why is the rebellion using them?”

Bryon stared at me with a blank look. “Cats?”

I nibbled my lip. “You haven’t been using cats for your rituals?”

He shook his head, and no deception showed. “No.”

There had to be another reason cats died in Charleston, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what. Peyton had said no dark magic surrounded their deaths, which meant no one used them as sacrifices, and since the last cat, no others had been murdered.

It seemed that nothing was behind those deaths, and that made a thought rise. “Maybe it’s a smoke screen?”

Kale cocked his head. “In what way?”

“To throw the coven off and to keep them focused on the cats instead of the demon summoning.” My instincts told me something more existed behind the cats’ deaths. The fact that magic had been involved meant the cats were placed there for a specific reason, but that reason was lost to me.

“At this point the issue with the cats is moot,” Kale said in a dark tone that held no wiggle room to disagree. “The uprising against the Alchemy takes precedence. You and I have been assigned to the case, this is where it has led us, and I intend to see it through. We need to pursue it until the matter is resolved.” His fierce stare remained fixated on mine. “Are you with me?”

I almost snorted at myself for how confident and sure I felt in this moment, even though I had a thousand questions about Kale that would be answered before the end of the night, of that I was sure. “Yeah, Kale, I’m with you.”

His mouth twitched. Perhaps he read the change in my behavior, or maybe something else amused him, but as quickly as the reaction came it fled and wrath filled his eyes as he looked at Bryon. “Where is this rebellion located?”

“The headquarters is at Magnolia Cemetery,” Bryon answered. “Follow the path to the back and you’ll see the Sampson tomb. There, the summoning will happen.”

I understood why the cemetery had been chosen. On Beltane, the magic would be strong in the cemetery because of the connection to the dead. Another reason Charleston had been picked. It was the perfect place for them to gather because it was so far off the Alchemy’s radar. “Goddess,” I exhaled.

Kale grunted, raising the dagger in his hand, and his expression filled with murderous rage. Before he removed Bryon’s head, I yanked on his arm, and ordered, “You can’t kill him, Kale.”

His eyebrow lifted. “Why is that?”

“Because he hasn’t taken a life.” Goddess, who was this crazy-ass warlock? I didn’t want to admit that my demand was personal—I truly didn’t want to see a warlock whom I had once loved slaughtered in front of me—but the other reason was because to kill him was wrong. “He told us what you wanted and also said he doesn’t want to be involved. All that we’ve learned has led to the knowledge that he wanted out, just as he told us now. We
don’t
kill innocent warlocks.”

Or did he?

Kale’s jaw clenched and he considered me for what seemed like an eternity before he looked at Bryon. “You’re to go to the Alchemy and accept your punishment.” His voice became ice cold when he leaned in toward Bryon. “If you’re not there when this is over, and haven’t done as I’ve ordered, I’ll hunt you.”

Again, alarm bells rang in my head, and my thoughts ran wild. Why would the Alchemy know Kale, since he worked for the coven? I had never once had an interaction with the Alchemy in all of my years employed by the coven. Why would I? My coven mattered to me, not the Alchemy. Only the head Priestess met the High Priests, and most times the meetings were held in a secure location.

“Thank…” Bryon gulped and his face drained of color. “Thank you.”

“Libby saved your life,” Kale retorted, his voice void of any emotion. “That’s the only reason you live.” His look became heated and focused. “Now apologize to her for the pain you’ve caused.”

Bryon and I both said in unison, “Huh?”

Kale leaned in even closer toward him and lowered his voice. “Your past actions hurt her deeply. For that, you owe an apology, and I suggest you do it quickly, and with meaning behind it, or not even her asking me will save your life.”

My cheeks flushed. “Kale, he doesn’t have to do that.”

A slow eyebrow arched at me. “On this, Libby, your opinion is not one I’ll listen to.”

Goddess, he pulled off
powerful warlock
well. It seemed that my asking to spare Bryon’s life
was
the only reason the warlock still had a heartbeat. While some of his actions made me question his motives, this one was so glaringly obvious that he cared that I’d once been hurt and he wanted to see a wrong made right.

In a moment surrounded by the reality of the danger awaiting us, he thought of me. With that realization, all my suspicions that his interests so far had some horrible meaning behind them vanished. This warlock not only cared about me, but he had a fierce desire to protect me.

Bryon looked at me before he glanced at the forest floor, but the emotion I’d seen in his eyes hit me so hard it stole my breath. “I am truly sorry for all I’ve done, Libby.” Then without another word, look, or reaction, Bryon jogged down the path through the trees, fading into the shadows of the forest.