Boundary Lines (20 page)

Nellie pursed her lips. “That’s not right,” she complained. “How do I know you won’t just leave and never come back?”

Kind of a fair question. Shaking out my wrist, I removed the small women’s Rolex watch I was wearing. My father had given it to Sam as a college graduation gift. Nellie’s greedy eyes lit up at the flash of silver. “This watch belonged to my twin sister,” I told Nellie. “Her husband gave it to me after she died. I said I would wear it until my niece is old enough to take it. It’s the most expensive thing I own, not to mention irreplaceable.” I looked around for a moment, then crossed to a decrepit little coat closet and set the watch on the highest shelf. “Now I have to come back. Deal?”

“Deal,” Nellie said, looking satisfied.

I went back over to the grand staircase and sat down, giving Nellie my full attention. “Tell me about the lines, please.”

Curt nod. “When my ma came to this country,” Nellie began, “she met with some of the Indians. They recognized her for what she was, so they treated her with more respect than they did near
anyone
else with a white face. Showed her where her magic was strongest.”

“The moon lines?”

“They’re not actually
called
‘moon lines,
’
” Nellie corrected, “that’s just the wolves’ term for them. To the rest of us, they’re called
ley
lines.” She shot me a triumphant look, like she’d just solved all my problems for me.

“But what are they?”

Nellie waved a hand toward the closest boarded-up window. “You have electricity that moves through those black ropes, right? The ones that hang on tall poles?”

I nodded. “Power lines.”

“Aye, exactly. Ley lines were once the power lines for magic, buried deep, deep underground. The Indians believed the lines fueled
all
magic.” She frowned. “Only, as time passed, the ley lines began to fade. This was long before my years walking the earth. It was like a fire dying: one bit cooling at a time, starting on the edges and moving inward until the last glowing ember fades.”

There’s something wrong with magic
. How many times had I heard that phrase from Quinn or Simon? Everyone agreed that the Old World’s magic was weaker than it used to be, and it was now much more difficult to change a human into a werewolf or vampire. And according to Simon, there used to be lots of magical creatures, but now most were extinct. “Do the ley lines still . . . um, work? Is that still where magic comes from?”

She shrugged. “Ma said they were sleeping. There’s a word for it, something tha
t’s out of the picture for years and years, but not really dead . . .”

“Dormant.”

Nellie snapped her fingers at me. “Aye. The ley lines are dormant. Not dead, though. That’s why there are still places where magic works a little better than others. And your Boulder is one of them.”

“But why?” I asked, though I didn’t really expect her to have the answer. “I mean, why did they go dormant?”

She hesitated for a moment, like she was about to say something embarrassing. “The Indians may have believed that ley lines fueled
all
the magic, but me ma said different. She claimed
witches
fueled the lines, and the lines in turn fueled the demimonde.” She shrugged again. “If she was right, and witch magic alone is what powers those lines, then it’s the lack of witch magic that made them fade.” She gave me a crafty look. “And witch magic that woke up the line, or at least your little part of it.”

The weight of her words settled on my shoulders.
No one
I’d met in the Old World knew why magic was fading, not even Maven—or if she knew, she’d kept the information closely guarded. But Nellie’s account could explain a lot. Witches had been targeted by humans since the Inquisition, and many witches had willfully
chosen
to stop practicing magic. Even active clans, like Clan Pellar, needed less and less magic to solve their everyday problems thanks to improvements in technology, transportation, and communication. And the witches in Colorado had stopped using apex magic because of their agreement with Maven.

Simon was definitely going to freak out when I told him.

“My little part of it,” I echoed, feeling almost numb with the shock of it. “But it seems so limited to Boulder, and parts of Denver. If the ley lines go on for miles and miles, why is it just this one part?”

She looked around in frustration. “If I could just draw a
map
for you . . .”

“Here.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket and pulled up a map of the Boulder-Denver area. “It’s small, but it’s something.”

“Yes, yes.” She didn’t look too surprised to see the phone, but smart phones had probably been around the last time her house had seen visitors. The former madam sat down on the step and crowded in close to me. My body automatically anticipated the smell of her breath or the closeness of her body heat—
something
—but she was just made out of air.

“There,” she said, tracing a line on the phone. The screen didn’t react to her finger at all. “The main line in these parts runs northwest and southeast. Boulder to Denver, but extending forever in either direction. But there was another line, southwest and northeast, here.” She traced another line that connected to the first right over my hometown.

“Hang on,” I said, zooming in on the phone. “Can you show me again?” I asked.

Shrugging, Nellie retraced the lines, and I saw the exact spot where they connected.

Right over Chautauqua.

Chapter 32

“It’s a crossroads,” I breathed.

“Aye. Or it was, back when the lines were active.” Her face was serious now, no more guile or attempts at manipulation. “The crossroads of two ley lines,” she said, shaking her head, “now,
that
made for some powerful magic. And someone has found a way to wake up that little fragment.”

“Fragment . . .
vestige
,” I said aloud, remembering the Unktehila’s words to us. The vestige was the sun it revolved around. “Someone is controlling the vestige of the ley line.”

“Someone is
powering
it,” she corrected, “stirring it up, like hot coals in a fire.”

“Power the ley lines, the ley lines power magic,” I mumbled. To Nellie, I said, “How would you do that?”

She shrugged. “There must be a specific spell. But it’s not
our
kind of magic, so I’m not familiar with it.”

Not boundary magic, then. “It
has
to be a witch?” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice. “You’re sure?”

“Of course.” Her look was a little disdainful now, like I was being intentionally stupid. “Haven’t you ever noticed, girl, that of the three remaining demimonde creatures, witches seem the least powerful, on the face of it? The wolves and the vampires, they have all that strength and healing and speed. Doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”

Well, it did
now
. Without waiting for my response, she continued, “It’s balance of power, you see? Without witch magic, the ley lines die,
and it becomes harder and harder for the vampires and the wolves
to
reproduce.”

My brow furrowed. It was entirely possible that Nellie Evans was messing with me or that she was just plain wrong. But my gut told me she was right. “They don’t know,” I whispered. “The other witches. Why don’t they know?”

Nellie shrugged again, starting to look bored. She reached down and ran her hand over her shoes, changing them to match my own lightweight hiking boots. She wrinkled her nose in disgust and switched them back to the heels. “Even in my time, that knowledge was a rare thing. Without my ma’s connections, I wouldn’t have known. Most witch clans are like the werewolf packs: They only care about their own members. What is it to them if vampires are having a hard time reproducing? Good riddance, we all thought.” A greedy smile. “Plus, the economics. The less access there was to magic, the more in demand it became. And the more we got paid to use it.”

Holy shit. It was like goddamned global warming all over again. Suddenly I felt like the pull of gravity on my body had increased, sinking me into the floor with worry. A trades witch had caused
all
of this: the werewolves, the Unktehila, the vampires losing control. It seemed like more than enough to start a war.

“Would the witch have to be in Boulder to do the spell?” I asked, praying the answer was no.

But Nellie nodded. “Aye. The vestige, as you call it, that little bit of ley line, would need direct contact.”

I let out a few very unladylike words that made Nellie do a double-take, admiration on her face. There were a number of different witch clans in Colorado, but as far as I knew, only one of them was in Boulder . . . which meant someone in Clan Pellar had done all of this.

But who? Reactivating the ley line vestige had provoked the werewolves, which had technically forced Maven to break her covenant with the witches. Any witch in Colorado had ample motivation to want to break the pact with Maven, especially the ones who were upset about losing their access to apex magic. I trusted Lily and Simon—even though Simon had changed his mind about the covenant, there was no way he’d go on letting the Unktehila kill innocent people—but it could be any one of the other witches. Maybe I could go to Hazel, explain my suspicions, and ask if she would help me identify the spell used to activate the vestige?

Except Hazel might be the one who’s doing all this
. The realization struck me like a physical slap. Hazel had more motivation than
anyone
to stir shit up in Boulder, because breaking the pact with Maven would pacify the other clans who were still pissed about her deal. And if Hazel couldn’t be trusted, neither could Simon and Lily, because if they even suspected one of their family members was involved, they’d close ranks around them, right? That’s what family does.

I was so screwed.

By the time I got back in my car, it was twelve thirty. Four and a half hours until sunset. Maven was expecting me to tell her everything I’d learned from Nellie Evans, a conversation that had every possibility of kicking off a war. Whichever side I chose, I would be pitted against someone I cared about.

And that wasn’t the only time crunch, I realized. It had now been a full week since the last full moon. That meant the Wyoming werewolves, the pack that occasionally visited Tobias, could change again starting tonight. Would they make another attack on the borders? Hell, for all I knew, they were already in town, just waiting for the sun to set before they changed form.

The one thing I had going for me was that Maven didn’t know that ghosts were visible during the day. She wouldn’t expect any news from me until an hour or two after sundown, which meant I had until maybe seven p.m. to figure out what the hell to do.

Except I had no idea where to start.

When I was only a couple of miles outside town, Simon called. “Lex? Hey, I’m with Sashi and Grace. We got back to the hotel room and you weren’t there anymore.” He paused for a second. “Sashi said healing you was kind of rough. Are you . . . okay?”

How the hell did I answer that? My head was still a wasp’s nest, the werewolves could be anywhere in the state, and oh yes, an unidentified witch had subtly declared war on my boss. “Not exactly,” I summarized. “We need to talk, Simon.”

“Yeah, I’m right there with you.” Simon’s voice was grim. “We gotta figure out what to do about the Unktehila tonight.”

I smacked the steering wheel. “Goddammit, I forgot about the Unktehila.”

“Are you kidding?” Simon said, incredulous. “You forgot about a people-eating magical worm monster?”

“It’s been a rough day.”

“Well, time to remember,” Simon said unsympathetically. “He needs to feed again tonight, and I doubt he’s gonna go back to Chautauqua after we ambushed him there. He might pop up in
Iowa, for all we know.”

“Oh, I have a hunch he’ll stay pretty close to Boulder.” I rubbed my eyes, trying to think. My impulse was to tell Simon and Lily everything, but there was no guarantee that the witch responsible for all of this wasn’t a member of their family. But Quinn wouldn’t be awake for four more hours, and I needed help. Fast. What the hell was I gonna do?

Maybe he can help.
At first I’d thought Sam might have been
referring to Hugh Mark, but what if I was wrong? What if there was another “he” who could help me?

Stop seeing them as demons, and start thinking about what they can bring to the table.

“Dammit, Sam,” I muttered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

There might be a way to both avoid war and keep all my friends alive. It would cost me a pretty serious compromise, but what choice did I have, at this point?

“What?” Simon asked. I’d kind of forgotten he was still on the line.

“Sorry, nothing,” I replied. “Listen, Simon, is Sashi still on the clock? I mean, does she still work for us even though she already healed me?”

“Hang on, I’ll ask.” There was some muffled discussion, and Simon returned. “She says we’ve got her until her flight leaves tomorrow,” he reported, “but she’ll need someone to take care of Grace if you guys are doing anything too . . . suggestive.”

I thought that over for a moment. “Ask her if Grace likes animals.”

Another moment of conversation, and then Simon came back on the line and said, “Yes, Grace is into anything cute with fur.”

“Great. Tell her to be ready to go in ten. I’m on my way.”

I hung up the phone and called my cousin Jake’s wife, who was a stay-at-home mom. “Hey, Cara, I need a favor. Could you and Dani use some company today?”

I arranged to meet Simon, Sashi, and Grace at a coffee shop near the Boulderado. As I walked in, I couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Simon, who was flushed with health and excitement. He and Sashi were sitting at a table just inside the door, and although their voices were low, he was gesturing wildly, so animated and expressive that he didn’t even see me walk in. There was no sign of his cane. While I was—well, “sleeping” is too innocuous a word, but I hadn’t technically passed out, so we’ll go with that—Sashi had obviously healed his remaining injuries. I looked around for Grace, and saw her leaning against the back wall near the sugar-and-milk bar, talking on Sashi’s cell phone. Out of earshot. Good.

Relief crossed Sashi’s face when she caught sight of me, but I wasn’t sure if it was because I was up and moving or because I was rescuing her from the well-meaning scientist.

“Hey, guys,” I greeted them. “Looking good, Simon.”

“Feeling good, Lex,” he said, a little smug. I remembered how wonderful my whole body had felt after Sashi’s treatment, and I didn’t blame him one bit.

“You guys ready?” I asked Sashi.

She nodded. “I haven’t told Grace about your family yet. Just give me a second.”

The thaumaturge witch left the table to join her daughter, and I sat down near Simon. “So. Where are we going?” he asked expectantly.

Oops. I had half of a rather slapdash and implausible plan, but I wasn’t ready to deal with the fallout of Simon learning everything right now. “I need her help with someone, kind of a personal thing,” I told him. He gave me a quizzical look, and I added, “Meanwhile, I’d like you and Lily to work on figuring out where the Unktehila might turn up next.”

He frowned at me. “I’m not an idiot, Lex. You’re not telling me something.”

I sighed. “No, but it’s because I can’t yet. Can you just trust me for a few hours? Please?”

Simon gave me a long, measuring look, and then shrugged and glanced at his watch. “Lily’s teaching yoga for the next half hour, but then, yeah, we can work on it,” he said. “But remember, even if we figure out where it’s gonna show up, we’ll need some serious firepower to stop it. You got in a direct shot last time, and it only lost a scale.”

“Let me worry about that,” I told him.

Sashi and I dropped Grace off at Cara’s house. I’d arranged for her to ride along to Dani’s piano lesson and then join them at Efrain’s for Mexican food.

“And they won’t say anything about the Old World, right?” Sashi asked me worriedly as we pulled away. She looked tired, and I realized that healing Simon and me must have taken something out of her.

“They can’t talk about what they don’t know,” I assured her. “No one in my family knows about magic. Grace is just having a playdate.”

“Oh.” Sashi gave me a surprised look. “I guess I just assumed, with you being a boundary witch and all . . .”

I shook my head. “My sister and I were adopted.”

“Ah.” Sashi smoothed down her pants, seeming to relax a little. “Great, then. And sorry if I’m being a pest . . . Grace and I haven’t spent much time apart. She says I’m overprotective.”

“My mother was the same way,” I said with a grin. “Take it from a former overprotected daughter: there are worse things for mothers to be.”

Sashi returned the smile. “Did you eventually grow out of it, then? Your mother was able to let go?”

“Not exactly,” I admitted, thinking of how much my own mother still worried about me, especially now that Sam was gone. “But when I joined the army, she kind of learned to do it long distance.”

Her smile faded, and I figured we were both thinking of her attempt to heal me that morning. “Listen,” I began, “thank you for what you did for me, back at the hotel.”

“That’s my job,” she said, shrugging it off.

“Healing the scar tissue, that was your job. But building me a blanket fort and letting me crash in your hotel room, that was above and beyond.”

I glanced over and saw that Sashi was smiling again. “Grace used to have anxiety attacks when she was smaller. Blankets and pillows made her feel safe. At any rate, you’re quite welcome.” She looked out the window for a moment, admiring the mountains again. “Where exactly are we going?”

I told her, and to my surprise the thaumaturge witch paled. “Lex . . . I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Because we’re farther from Boulder, and the extra boost it gives your magic?”

“Not just that, I have a . . . history.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “With them.”

“You said you healed them before.”

Sashi nodded. “A very long time ago. Grace’s father . . . well, let’s just say werewolves are the reason I’m raising her alone.”

Shit.
Are you sure about this, Sam?
She’d told me to get over my hatred of werewolves, but how could I when everywhere I turned, they were ruining lives—Sashi’s, the Pellars’, even my own family’s?

But I trusted Sam. If she said werewolves were more than psychotic killers, I had to believe her. After all, Keller believed more or less the same thing about me, and I was more than what he saw in me. A lot more.

Now I just had to convince Sashi of that. “You work for Maven, right?” I said abruptly. “I mean, she’s paying your bill, so your loyalties are with her?”

Sashi nodded. “She spoke to the accountant who handles my billing,” she said uncomfortably, as though afraid I was about to strong-arm her. “My instructions were to help you with whatever you need.”

I was a little surprised that Maven had given me that much leeway, but then, this had been my idea in the first place. I pressed on, “So if I told you something, you wouldn’t necessarily feel obligated to report it back to the witch clan?”

She looked surprised at the suggestion. “No, of course not. I wasn’t raised in a clan system, Lex. I have no loyalty to the Pellars or any other witch family.”

“Okay, then.” I took a deep breath. “Look, I need your help to prevent a war.”