Succession of Witches (17 page)

When Cassie became aware of herself again, she was surrounded by trees. A forest of coniferous trees, covered in snow. In addition to the calls of some hardy winter birds, she thought she could hear the sound of the ocean nearby.

There was snow on the ground too; she started out standing on the surface, but as soon as she moved, she sank knee deep into the snow, soaking her pant leg.
Of all the days not to wear her knee-high boots.

Standing next to her, the Knight looked confused. As her plated metal boots sank into the snow, she looked from side to side frantically, like she didn’t know what was happening, her ponytail snapping back and forth almost comically. Eventually, she gave a graceful kind of shrug and turned away, orienting herself.

“Where are we?” Cassie snapped, hugging herself for warmth. “Where did you bring me?”

Ignoring the question, the Knight cocked her head in a direction and began to walk, more gracefully than should be possible in deep snow, which came up even higher on her than it did on Cassie. Cassie gave a moment’s thought to running in the other direction, then shook her head and scrambled after the Knight; if she didn’t get to shelter soon, she would freeze to death.

After a few moments, it became clear they were walking up a hill. The surrounding trees made it hard to see, but Cassie could tell the incline was increasing the farther they went. Trying not to think of the cold, she focused on the Knight’s swinging ponytail a few steps ahead, which somehow, even beneath the shadowy canopy, seemed to glow faintly with golden light. Its perfection, however, was marred by a dark stain towards the bottom.

A bolt of horror shot through Cassie
as she suddenly remembered what had happened right before the Knight had spirited her away.
Oh my God, Miri!
She thought.
She died protecting me. I called her an undead skank—that was the last thing I ever said to her.

She struggled to hold back tears; they would just freeze to her cheeks.
             

After a period of time Cassie couldn’t judge, they reached the top of the hill, where there was a clearing. Despite
herself, Cassie stared; it was picture-postcard beautiful.

A large house, all dark wood and flawless white stones, sat on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. Behind the homestead, a seemingly endless forest of snow-covered trees was visible. To her left, there was the sea far below, a shocking blue-green color under the battleship grey sky. The smell of wood, pine
needles and salty sea brine mixed together into a cleansing, invigorating aura that seemed to penetrate the very pores of her skin.

The Knight began walking toward the house and Cassie followed, shivering and thinking furiously. She could be in the Northwest, or she could be across the Atlantic in Scandinavia somewhere. Russia also wasn’t out of the question. She began hoping that she was at least still in the continental United States: if she’d been kidnapped onto another continent, that suggested a huge amount of planning, since it would mean defying the Western Court.

Actually, considering the fact that she was court-ordered to stay with Sam, whoever had kidnapped her was crossing the court at this point—unless, of course, the court was in on it. She decided to stop torturing herself with speculation until she had more information and just try to stay on her toes…her sopping wet toes. She was glad when they reached the house—she was starting to lose sensation in her feet.

The Knight reached for an old fashioned brass knocker on the large oak door and pounded three times. Cassie heard muffled voices coming from inside the house, and then a thin man opened the door. Superficially, he reminded her of Serenus—around the same age with the same dapper dressing style, the elder gentleman about town. However, while Serenus usually had a playful look on his face, this man had bloodshot, yellow-tinged eyes and a sour expression. He turned to address someone behind him.

“They’re finally here. They must have materialized at the bottom of the hill and had to walk the rest of the way.”

“For what those transportation amulets cost, they should have materialized in my bedroom, giftwrapped,” Cassie heard another man say with a theatrical cadence. “Let them in already.”

Poor Man’s Serenus (as Cassie had already started thinking of him) moved aside to let the Knight and Cassie through. The house wasn’t quite as beautiful inside as it was from afar, but it was still impressive; the front room was decorated in greens and grays with nautical accent pieces, and plenty of antique, sumptuous furniture. The centerpiece of the room was a large gray plush couch across from an absolutely huge marble fireplace, where a roaring fire warmed the room nicely. Just looking at the fire made Cassie’s fingers and toes begin to defrost.

A man was sitting in front of the fireplace, his back to Cassie. After she had stamped her feet on the rug in the entryway to clear off the snow and ice, he
stood up and turned toward her, hands resting at his sides. There was something practiced about the whole gesture, as though he’d rehearsed it several times.

“Welcome, Cassie. I suppose you never expected to see me again,” he said smugly.

Cassie took in the sight of him. She supposed he was handsome, in an everyday sort of way—regular exposure to men like Sam, John Golding and Nathaniel Lewis had made her change her threshold of attractiveness. He had thick, tousled dark brown hair, a thin-to-average frame and large brown eyes that made him look younger than he probably was, and was fashionably dressed in gray slacks and a blue dress shirt. There seemed to be something strangely, almost painfully earnest about him, which was a weird vibe to get from someone who had just kidnapped you.

“Do I know you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

The man looked crestfallen for a fraction of a second, but covered it well. “Last fall, at court. We were introduced.”

“Oh—if you say so,” she said, shrugging. Something was a little off about this situation. There was a clink as the Knight came to stand next to her, crossing her arms as well. Cassie wondered if the creature was mirroring her on purpose.

The man licked his lips. “You mean to tell me you don’t remember me? Or is this some kind of mind game?”

Cassie shrugged again. “Honestly, I’m not trying to be rude, I really don’t remember.”

Poor Man’s Serenus came up next to the other man, his hands clasped behind his back like a butler. “She’s probably telling the truth, Ben. She must have met dozens of people that night.”

Ben, if that was indeed his name, still looked unsatisfied. “Well, I suppose. Anyway, where are my manners? Come—sit in front of the fire and warm up. We have a lot to talk about,” he said, gesturing to an overstuffed chair across from the couch.

Seeing no reason to continue standing in the entryway feeling cold, Cassie made a beeline for the comfortable-looking chair. The heat from the fire felt heavenly. She heard quiet metallic sounds as the Knight followed, but did not sit, coming to stand in between Ben’s couch and Cassie’s chair. Poor Man’s Serenus also remained standing in his butler’s pose.

Ben sat and looked at her as she nestled into the chair, taking her shoes off and pulling her legs into her body for warmth.  “Making
yourself at home. I like that,” he said with a smile.

“For now.
You do know what happened to the last demon who kidnapped me, right?” snapped Cassie, brushing more snow off of her vest. She should probably be cautious and choose her words more carefully, but something about Ben made it tempting to be frank.

“Yes, I know all about how Cordley was dumb enough to leave you unbound, and with an item of your master’s clothing, allowing you to summon him,” he said. “But I doubt you can summon him now, and even if you could—well, let’s just say I took the proper precautions,” he said. He gave a sidelong glance at the Knight and smiled.

Cassie swallowed. “Who is she, anyway? Can she talk?”

“You’re asking the wrong question,” said Ben. “It’s not who she is, it’s what she is. And what she can do.” He paused and took a deep breath. “
Maasiiis
!” he yelled, thrusting his arm out in the Knight’s direction.

Cassie felt like she had been punched in the stomach. That had been a powerful curse—she had been close enough to the receiving end of one to know what it felt like. It hadn’t been directed at her, but at the Knight, who didn’t react in the slightest. The strange figure just continued standing in the middle of the carpet, arms crossed in front of her breastplate.

Ben seemed winded from the curse for a moment, but laughed after a he got his breath back. “You see? A killing curse, and she felt nothing. That armor, which I made, renders her completely immune to magic.” He grinned at Cassie, beaming with pride. “If your master were to walk in the door right now, all his curses would be useless, and she would cut off his head before he could scream.”

“That’s not possible,” said Cassie, eyes wide. “How could anything be immune to
magic. That just…that doesn’t make any sense.” But no sooner had she said it than she remembered her protection amulet— it had triggered when John had touched her, but not when the Knight had. She had no other explanation for that.

“See, that’s what Arrigio and the rest of those fossils with no imagination at
court kept saying, but they were wrong. I’ve completed it, and now? They could send an army of demons after me, and they would be helpless,” he said, obviously pleased with himself. He leaned back into the couch, luxuriating in his victory. “The court has no hold over me now; my word is law.”

As freaked out as she was about the Knight (for, as much as she didn’t want to believe it, it seemed like what he was saying about her magical immunity was true), Cassie was momentarily distracted by the realization of just what had been bothering her about Ben. He was just so…
affected
.

Sam was reluctant to take on the role of a demon, but when he did, there was no doubt. Whether he was addressing the members of the Western Court, or holding a meeting of his entourage on the floor of the coffee shop after hours from a cheap plastic chair, there was no questioning his authority. He was what he was by virtue of birth, and it was an immutable fact, something he couldn’t escape from
— and he had certainly tried. Other demons, like Donatello Arrigio, were similarly intimidating in their own way. Even Serenus radiated a quiet, composed kind of power.

Ben appeared to be playacting at being a powerful demon, and it didn’t quite work. Power wasn’t the issue; she was pretty sure that killing curse he had directed at the Knight was a strong one. He just seemed to lack confidence in
who and what he was, and he was overcompensating with grand gestures.

Cassie cl
eared her throat. “Listen, Ben—”

He cut her off. “You do not call me that. I am Bennet Marcus, son of Belial, and you will show me the proper respect,” he said, his words crisp and cold. Again, there was something missing; she knew she was supposed to feel like she was put in her place, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Fine, what do you want me to call you?”

There was a pause. “Master,” he said. He seemed to be fighting to control his expression.

“You aren’t my master,” said Cassie quickly. As far as she knew, no matter what wizardry he’d managed to pull off with a set of medieval armor, he couldn’t break her bond with Sam—only a more powerful demon could do that, and no way was this guy more powerful than Sam. She realized she was clutching her silver locket and quickly dropped it back into her vest.

I also have the secret bond with Sammael, the Lord of Hell
, she thought
. I wonder what Mr.-I’m-So-Powerful here would think of them apples?

“That’s
true, I can’t make you my familiar. At least, not yet.”

Cassie threw up her arms. “Then what good am I to you? Why even bother kidnapping me?”

“So glad you asked,” he said, standing up and pacing. “First, there’s the fact that everyone else wants you, but they can’t have you. A proper punishment for treating me the way they did,” he said. He threw out a hand and was suddenly holding a full wineglass which, if she was honest, impressed Cassie more than the killing curse had; she was pretty sure Sam couldn’t conjure his own drinks.

“Second,” he said, running his finger along the edge of the crystal. “Once you’re pregnant with my child, it’s no
t going to matter too much whose familiar you are,” he said, grinning madly.

Despite his lack of experience, his over-the-top acting, and that nebulous feeling that there was something a little sad and desperate about him, Bennet Marcus managed something few demons had; he made Cassie’s jaw drop.

Serenus didn’t return any of the voicemails Sam had left fo
r him until almost 8 hours after Cassie was kidnapped, which was infuriating: for his entire life, he had been unable to get rid of the guy, except for the one time he really, really needed him. To his further irritation, Serenus refused to answer most of his questions over the phone, saying that they needed to hold “a full meeting of the entourage” before he would discuss their next course of action.

That’s why the back room of the Daily Grind was filled with Dwight, Khalil, John (not part of the entourage, but Sam wasn’t letting him go anywhere) Ethan (falling asleep on the couch), Jay (mother hypnotized by Eugene into no longer caring), Mike (parents in Monte Carlo and apparently apathetic), Miriam (still recovering), Eugene Buckley, Liam, Dmitri, and Billingsly. Only Nyesha was missing, still refusing t
o leave the clan’s rented townhouse unless it was absolutely necessary to do so. It was rather crowded.

When Serenus finally walked in, Sam nearly pounced on him. “Why in God’s name does every single one of us have to be together for this? You’d better have a reason.”

“Several, actually, but mostly because I didn’t want to have to explain everything ten times. Not everything is complicated and arcane, Sam,” said the professor, sitting down in the last remaining chair. “Now, apparently since we last spoke, you’ve bonded a clan of vampires,” and with that he nodded at Eugene, “unwillingly stole and bonded a second familiar, and burned a demon’s house down. Anything else you’ve done in the interim that I should know about? You haven’t declared war on heaven yet, have you?”

Sam turned around and slammed his hands down on the metal table, making Jay and Khalil jump. “Ser, I’m not in the mood. Cassie is missing, I have no idea how
to start looking for her, and—”

“Who’s he?” asked Serenus, pointing at John. “I did
miss a lot in the last week.”

“He’s the rat bastard who helped some other demon kidnap Cassie,” answered Khalil, cocking his head in John’s direction.

“For the last time, I had no choice; they would have killed me if I didn’t help them,” said John deliberately.

“Did ‘they’ tell you to let that metal monster girl cut off my head? Was that part of the plan too?” interjected Miri, rubbing her healing neck. Liam, Dmitri and Billingsly, though they looked nothing at all alike, were all giving John practically identical glares of death.

“Wait, wait,” said Serenus, holding up his hands. “I try to pay attention, but I’m not omniscient. A recap of the last 24 hours, please?”

In turns, they brought Serenus up to speed. John explained that he made a side income by serving as a paid blood donor to a vampire clan in a neighboring town, only to be commanded to use his connection to Cassie to help an unknown demon’s familiar kidnap her; that the familiar was a woman in some kind of strange medieval armor, and that she was somehow strong enough and fast enough to cut off a vampire’s head.

“That’s quite a story,” said Serenus when they were finished. “I’m still stuck on the fact that there’s a hidden vampire clan over in Liddell.”

“They’re very old, very careful,” said John. “They try to keep a low profile.”

Eugene snorted at that, but just shook his head dismissively when John looked at him quizzically.

“So we don’t know who kidnapped Cassie, just that they obviously have some kind of connection to this vampire clan that may as
well not exist,” said Sam, agitated. He would have paced the room, but it was too full of people and vampires. “The teacher gave us a thorough description of the familiar who took Cassie, but that’s all we have. Unless you know something.”

“I think I have what you need,” said Serenus. It looked as though his eyes were focused on something far away. “I know there was some commotion about some half-wit who was obsessed with making magical armor a while back—it’s too big a coincidence. The familiar wearing armor is probably his,” he said.

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Who is it?”

“That, I don’t know. But Donatello Arrigio will.”

Surprisingly, it was Jay who responded. “That stuck up guy? He’s not going to want to tell us anything!” he said. “We’ll have to make him tell us.”

Sam looked at the boy and truly understood, for the first time, that he was Cassie’s best friend from childhood. They had known each other from the sandbox. Even with everything that was going on, for an instant he felt jealous of that effortless intimacy that he would never know, and was surprised by the extent of his own jeal
ousy.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Serenus. “If the laughing stock of the Western Court managed to make a go of his magical suit of armor, something tells me Arrigio is going to be very, very interested in learning more.”