Carnival of Secrets (14 page)

“I
know
they will.” Adam had spent the last several years trying to think of a way to keep Mallory safe. Until she was eighteen, she was his child by law, but too soon she’d be an adult by both daimon and witches’ law. He’d been preparing her as best he could, teaching her how to fight and use weapons, knowing that if he found no other solution, those skills would become essential. He hoped that she’d stay with him, continue to run, but once she discovered that he’d adjusted her memory, spelled her to hide her nature, and prevented her from disobeying or questioning him, he suspected she wouldn’t want anything to do with him until her temper cooled.

And even if she did keep running, she wouldn’t be able to escape the throngs of daimons who would come for her once she was of age. Their greatest defense to date had been that no one had the right to take her from him. If Marchosias stole Mallory away before she was an adult, it would give Evelyn justification to attack him. Unfortunately, dangling Mallory as bait to get that justification was not outside the realm of possibility with Evelyn.

“So you’re desperate enough now to bring her near me?” Evelyn asked as they settled on the stiff chairs in her meeting room.

“It’s a calculated risk—she will be vulnerable in a year unless you help me. I have to believe that you won’t alienate me to gain one year’s time.”

Evelyn smiled, neither confirming nor denying his theory, and Adam wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that there were no illusions between them. He liked to believe that he could ask her directly if she meant to cause harm to them, but he knew her well enough to know that her answer would be fluid. There was no person or ideal that she’d put before her vendetta.

“If you want my help, you have only to ask,” Evelyn said.

“What I want is for my daughter never to know Marchosias exists, never to know what she is, never to go to The City. . . .”

Evelyn laughed. “I work spells, Adam, not miracles.”

“I want her to access her daimon side completely without her realizing what she is,” he said. “Let her think it’s witch heritage that she’s just developing. We can pretend her mother was one of us . . . or even that her unknown father is.”

“That’s not easy,” Evelyn began.

“I don’t have any other ideas left. She has strengths she can’t use without tearing away the spells that hide her nature, and I know there was a daimon who crossed the barrier of the last house—one she didn’t fight.” He hadn’t mentioned it to Mallory since they were leaving anyhow, but the terror he’d felt that night reaffirmed his belief that going to Evelyn was the right choice—the
only
choice, really.

Evelyn Stoneleigh might claim she was unable to work miracles, but aside from Ross himself, Evelyn was the closest thing there was to a miracle worker in the two worlds. Unfortunately, she was also aware of her worth, and his being family didn’t negate that knowledge.

“I could give her what she needs to face him,” she admitted, “if you meet my terms.”

“Name your price.”

“Vow that you’ll obey when I demand it of you,” she said.

Adam paused. “On the condition that it doesn’t injure, entrap, or kill Mallory, I will.”

Evelyn withdrew a short silver knife and held it out. He knew his sister loved him, but she’d loved their parents and brother too. She was old enough that she remembered them in a way he couldn’t. Their deaths fueled a hatred of daimons that he’d surrendered years ago.

Because of Mallory.

As he accepted the blade, he looked at the only person he loved aside from his daughter. He cut his palm crosswise, and then he held both the blade and his bleeding hand out to her and promised, “You have my vow.”

W
HEN
K
ALEB SHOWED UP
outside the coffee shop in the late afternoon two days after Mallory had arrived in Franklin, she wasn’t sure what to think. He hadn’t called; instead, he was just suddenly there beside her.
Just like every other time we ran into each other.
He knew her weakness for overpriced, oversweetened coffees, though, so it was a logical place to look for her—which made her realize that all of their other surprise encounters might not have been as much of a surprise to him as they had been to her. But then he kissed her, and she couldn’t think about anything.

When he pulled away, he whispered, “I thought about this, about you.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that she was pretty sure made her look like a complete fool.

“I thought about you too,” she admitted. She didn’t, however, tell him exactly how much she’d thought about him—or that she’d had a dream about him that was, by far, the most detailed dream she’d ever had about a boy. She wasn’t embarrassed by it, but that didn’t mean he needed to know how much he was in her thoughts.

He put his arm around her shoulders, holding her closely to his side. “I could only get away for a couple hours, but I needed to see you.”

All she could do was nod. When she’d thought about him,
need
was a pretty accurate term. It was strange to have an almost physical ache to see someone, but she didn’t feel ready to divulge that detail. She wasn’t sure she was ready to admit anything. For now, she simply enjoyed the feel of his arm around her.

“If you’re free, we could eat.” Kaleb pointed at a café across the street. “What do you think?”

Like innumerable little restaurants in the countless towns where she’d lived, it was a perfectly serviceable place. Tables and chairs were crammed into a space slightly smaller than they needed. People were laughing and talking; waitresses slipped through narrow spaces carrying overflowing trays. The tables were taken up by couples and groups of people her age—none of whom she knew—but she was there with Kaleb, and that changed everything for her. Maybe it was silly, but having him by her side made her feel braver.

Over the next couple hours, he asked her about everything from her ideal home to her favorite memories. She told a mix of truth and omissions as he watched her like she was far prettier than she was.

Eventually he pulled some cash out of his pocket, counted it painstakingly, and left it and the bill on the table. “I’m glad you weren’t dating someone already.”

“My father hasn’t been very in favor of my dating. He’s . . . protective.”

“He should be,” Kaleb said.

Mallory smiled at him, but didn’t reply. She wasn’t entirely sure how to tell her father about Kaleb, but she knew she had to introduce them. She couldn’t keep secrets from Adam.
Could I, if it meant seeing Kaleb?
She pushed that thought away. Adam was a perfect father; he’d understand once he met Kaleb.
He has to.
She was suddenly sure she shouldn’t keep Kaleb a secret a day longer—so much so that she almost called her father.

Kaleb stood and pulled out her chair. “Are you still with me?”

“Just thinking.” She smiled at him, and he put his arm around her.

She was grateful that he didn’t press the matter. He never did when she dodged questions—which meant that she didn’t feel as on edge with him as she did with a lot of people. It wasn’t that she lived some great big exciting life; she was simply aware that there were daimons and witches in the world and that there was another world filled with daimons. Those weren’t exactly truths she could share openly.

They left the din of the restaurant, and Kaleb directed her toward the side of the building where the shadows were thicker. It was as close to an alley as one could find in Franklin, dark but relatively clean. Kaleb kissed her with the same intensity as he had in her kitchen. For a few minutes, Mallory let herself enjoy it, but when his fingers skimmed her waistband, she forced herself to pull back. Considering the way he was acting, she wasn’t entirely convinced that Kaleb had limits on what was acceptable in public. There weren’t any people around just then, but anyone could step into the alley. More importantly, if his hands wandered much farther, he would discover the guns she wore secreted on her body.

She put her hand on his chest and pushed gently. “We’re in the middle of the street.”

“Not really.” He leaned in again.

“No,” she said firmly. She would’ve said more, but her attention was caught by a woman who stood deeper in the shadows, staring intently at them. At first, Mallory thought she was just nosy, but then the woman opened her mouth, stretching pink-pale lips to reveal something feathered. It leaped from her tongue and took flight, expanding in size as it went.

She just exhaled a bird.

The sight of it tickled some niggling memory Mallory couldn’t reach, but the more immediate issue was Kaleb’s safety. Mallory tried to shove him behind her. Simultaneously, she reached for the tiny derringer in her coat pocket.

Three times the woman opened her mouth as if words were imminent. Three times a raven flew from between her lips.

Mallory looked away from the woman for a moment and realized that Kaleb was about to see a part of her life that she’d really rather he didn’t.

“Go on,” she said. With one hand, Mallory shoved him toward the street. Then, she walked into the alley.
A derringer isn’t much of a defense.
Her other hand went to the holstered gun she had only moments before been hoping to hide from him.

Kaleb grabbed her shoulder. Mallory froze, her .357 half drawn.

“I’ll handle this. Go,” he ordered.

But the bird-breathing woman was in front of them now. She was familiar in a way that made Mallory struggle to identify, like a word on the tip of her tongue, an answer just out of reach. Her eyes were ringed with blue and red lines, and the shape of her pupils wasn’t quite right. But aside from the whole birds-flying-from-her-mouth thing, she was beautiful.

The woman touched Mallory’s arm, and without planning to do so, Mallory slid the .357 back into its holster.

With her odd eyes and impossible mouth, this woman looked inhuman, but at her touch Mallory felt peaceful.

Then Kaleb stepped forward, using his body like a shield in front of her, and told her, “Run,
now
.”

Mallory frowned. She didn’t know why she felt like she could trust the strange woman, but she did. She also wanted rather desperately to protect Kaleb. The two instincts were both unexpected—and at odds.

She wasn’t sure what to do until, with a flick of her fingers, the woman flung Kaleb with such force that he landed several storefronts away. He wasn’t moving.

“Distraction,” the woman said, the word pushed from behind her teeth with deliberation and struggle.

She stepped closer to Mallory.

The peaceful feeling evaporated, and Mallory backed away from her. Kaleb was injured; the woman had hurt him. That clarified everything.

“I
will
shoot you,” Mallory threatened. She reached for her gun again.

Simultaneously, the woman reached out and snapped the cord that held Mallory’s pendant. She cupped the stone in her palm and curled her fingers around it. All the while, she stared at Mallory as if a question had been left unanswered in the air between them.

“That’s mine.” Mallory grabbed the woman’s wrist with her free hand.

Across the street, the three black birds stood in a row on one of the cables that stretched between poles.

Waiting for me.

“I really don’t want to hurt you, but . . .” She resisted the urge to look at Kaleb. “You hurt him. If he’s not okay, I’ll kill you.”

The woman looked heartbroken for a fluttering moment. She took Mallory’s hand and put the stone in it.

Mallory backed farther away, not running—
not yet
—for fear of leaving Kaleb at the woman’s mercy. She eased toward him, hoping that she could reach him but unsure if it would do any good.

The woman didn’t speak. Two of the three birds looked in opposite directions so that one was peering up the street and the other down the street. The third bird swooped toward Mallory.

The woman lifted her hand. She stood with arm outstretched and palm open. The black bird touched down in her hand. As it did so, it disintegrated into ash and smoke. The woman lifted her cupped palm filled with silty dark ash while tendrils of smoke twisted above it. “Remember.”

“What?” Mallory lifted her gaze, and as she did so, she realized too late that the bird-breathing woman had opened her mouth again.

She blew the ashes into Mallory’s face. “To free your voice and your mind.”

Mallory coughed as the dark cloud of ash hit her face with far more force than was possible from an exhalation—not that disintegrating birds or women breathing birds into being was possible either.

Daimon. Daimons don’t do magic . . . but witches don’t exhale birds.

“What are you?” she asked.

The woman exhaled again then, and feathers cradled Mallory’s fall as she dropped to the ground unable to breathe or see—or stay awake to hear the answer to her question.

W
HEN SHE OPENED HER
eyes again, Kaleb was crouched on the sidewalk beside her. He had one arm around her shoulders and was holding her chin with the other hand. He tilted her head, peering into her eyes as he did so. “Do you feel able to stand?”