Unruly Magic (32 page)

“You need one, right? And I can do with someone with skills like yours.”

“What would I do?”

“We’ll deal with that when it comes up.”

“I’m not calling you boss.” I grinned.

“And I’m not going to sexually harass you in the photocopy room.”

“It’s not harassment if I’m enjoying it,” I pointed out.

“You’ll have to keep your mind on the job,” Evan quipped without missing a beat.

We were quiet for a moment, then I said, “You have to know that Annalise and Gage are my friends. If you’re staying here, you’ll see them. I’m sorry that I kissed Gage, and that that upsets you, but I’m not going to avoid him.”

“I can deal with the wolves. Annalise is a nice person. Gage ... I’m not too fond of him. I can’t help it that I don’t like that you’ve kissed each other, and maybe there was an attraction there and that’s made me jealous, but I won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable.” Evan seemed sincere but a part of me wondered if it would be that easy. He seemed to think so. He didn’t know that Gage had already implied that he wasn’t giving up and I wasn’t going to fan the flames by telling him that. I was a one-man woman and I aimed to stay that way, attraction or not.

“So what now?” I asked, trying to temper the butterflies in my stomach. Evan was staying. My mind and body were both struggling to accept it as fact.

“We could celebrate?” The smile Evan gave me then was anything but friendly. Instead, it bordered firmly on the devastatingly carnal. Feelings that I had tempered bubbled to the surface.

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows and barely had time to squeal before he’d scooped me up, his mouth on mine. A wave of worry rushed through me at the thought of him teleporting, and I mumbled against his lips. “Don’t shimmer, or whatever it is that you did before.”

“I’m familiar with using my legs to get about.” Evan carried me into my room and settled me on the bed, falling next to me, kissing me all the while. Struggling out of my clothes was a welcome chore and I pulled him to me, eager to finally have him in my arms again, to feel him as part of me and when he finally was, the pleasure was sweet and intense and I never wanted it to end.

~

I was engrossed in Étoile’s magazines when she came back, pinging into the living room quietly, making me jump. I really needed to find out how they were all so aware of when someone else was coming; at least, they never seemed to be surprised the way I was. Only Chyler’s entrance had given me any warning, indicating there was some difference between spell craft and innate magic.

Étoile had changed into skinny indigo jeans, a bright yellow silk blouse that billowed around her arms and long tan boots. Her hair was freshly washed and she’d applied a fresh layer of make-up. In short, she didn’t look like she had been up all night banishing dead witches. I, however, still did. I refused to feel bad about that.

“How’re things?” she asked, sitting next to me on the floor and curling her legs under her.

“Evan’s staying,” I told her with a smile.

“Thought he would.”

“As if I wouldn’t,” said Evan. He’d stretched out on the sofa, a book in his hand, a scene so familiar to me that it was like when we had first met. Back then he’d barely been without a book. He’d lit the grate too, kick starting the fire with a flame flung from his palm, so the living room was filled with warmth and the sounds of the logs crackling. I didn’t know what had happened to the floor but the chalk and paste was gone, and the hardwood looked buffed and shiny. I was never letting that happen in my house again. Any spells could be performed on the driveway in future... or in the next state. Or another country.

I looked up at Evan and smiled when he ran a hand over my hair. With him here, I had what I wanted. I had the chance of a home with him. He gave me love and I loved him back. He would protect me. Most of all, I was just happy at the thought of waking up every day knowing that he was part of my life.

“I’ve had quite enough of the gooey stuff with Seren and David,” sniffed Étoile, but she wasn’t upset when she added, “You people disgust me.”

I traded glances with Evan before he put his nose back in his book. Neither of us bothered apologising. If Étoile was going to live with us, and dip into my head, she would just have to deal with it.

“What about your job and your apartment?” I asked Étoile as I flipped through a magazine. I wondered how she could leave her life behind on a whim, and then I remembered that I’d very easily walked out of my life and stepped into a new one.

Étoile sighed and sat back, her back warming against the fire. “Everything went on a hiatus when I was working for the council but now they’re gone, I can do as I please.”

“Are they really gone, or are they just regrouping?” I asked. I wanted to know more about the council and what was happening. It seemed strange to think that such an apparently powerful structure could disintegrate without something rising from the ashes, especially when people like Georgia Thomas wanted to pick up the pieces.

“Not quite.” Étoile paused and I could see her thinking about what I should know.

“Out with it,” I urged.

Étoile picked at a piece of thread from the hem of her top. “You know already that the council governed everything, but without a leadership it’s a shambles. A long time ago, before we were anything like organised, it was just lots of covens dotted about. Then we unionised, as it were, so witches could converse better, share knowledge, help each other... It used to be a good thing, but like all good things, there’s always someone who wants to be in charge. Controlling the council is a powerful job and it takes a powerful witch to keep everyone in line.”

“There’s a European council too,” added Evan. “And in Russia, Asia, Africa, the Middle East. Australia. I hear their conventions are a blast.”

“You don’t go?” I asked, not sure if he was being a touch sarcastic.

Evan shrugged. “Daemon.”

“Oh, right.”

Étoile picked up where she left off. “Anyway, the remains of the council board are still there and they were the ones that asked us to investigate Chyler. The problem is, they don’t have anyone to lead and none of the board are individually strong enough. It used to be that the council was elected fairly. The smartest, the wisest, the most benevolent. Then, of course, politics got involved and it was the strongest, the richest and the best promises lobbied to get a backing for election. That’s where the Bartholomews excelled. They had it all, including power.”

“So if there was an election, there would be a new leader?” I asked.

“Theoretically, yes, but the council is supposed to elect a new leader before the old one goes. Obviously, that hasn’t happened this time so we’ve been without with a leader for six months. That leaves the council wide open for lobbying, and I don’t just meaning shaking hands and kissing babies’ heads. Some witches will do anything to get the spot.”

“Like Georgia Thomas?”

Étoile nodded and I wondered if it was my imagination that she paled a shade. “Georgia isn’t the only one who wants to collect an arsenal of witches whom would be so strong that no one would dare defy her. There could be a takeover. A new council could be declared.”

“And she’s having to resort to bringing back the dead?” I asked. “Doesn’t sound like a recipe for success.”

“She’s determined and she’ll try anything. Thankfully it didn’t work this time, but there’s no telling what Georgia would do if she forced her way onto the council, never mind the leadership.”

I thought about that. “It would be that bad?”

“Georgia
is
that bad,” Evan said, turning the corner of his page and closing the book.

Étoile added, “She knows our house wouldn’t support her, but you’re not allied as such except through our friendship.”

“What do you mean by house?”

“A lot of magical families have houses. Even when names change and there’s distant cousins, marriages and so on, they’re all part of a house. It keeps us aligned and ensures there’s some degree of protection. The house of Winterstorm is an old house and we’ve extended our backing to you but that doesn’t mean it’s absolute.”

“Well, thanks,” I said. “Were my parents part of houses? Do they still exist?” I’d finally laid my parents’ memories to rest but it had crossed my mind that I might have distant relatives that I didn’t know about.

“I’d have to ask my mother,” Étoile answered. “She’s got an excellent memory when it comes to all the houses and their histories.”

“This is a lot to take in,” I admitted, leaning back against the sofa, wondering how I would even get my thought processes straight enough to think any of this through in an evenly vaguely coherent manner. I asked, “So what happens if I’m not a part of a house?”

Étoile shrugged, “Nothing much usually. Like I said, it’s a way of organising, more than anything, but things are changing and I can’t say being aligned to a house isn’t going to be good for protection in the future, not when Georgia Thomas and the likes of her are canvassing for power. A threat is much weaker if you’ve got the backing of a house. Lone witches will be targeted, I can guarantee that.”

“And there’s the Brotherhood,” I said, the group forever on the periphery of my mind.

“There’s nothing to suggest they go after houses, just individual witches,” Étoile replied.

I turned to Evan. “What about daemons?”

He raised his eyebrows. “What about us?”

“Do you have hierarchies, or councils, or houses?”

“We’re not nearly as organised and there aren’t as many of us as there are the witches,” Evan said. “Many daemons aren’t even that close to their own families. It’s not like being a human where you’re ruled by emotions and connections. Daemons are very self-serving.”

That seemed a little harsh to me. “You’re not like that,” I protested.

“I’m not one hundred percent daemon thanks to my mother.”

“Hallelujah for that,” muttered Étoile.

“What happens to witches on their own?” I asked, curious as to exactly what Étoile’s family backing really meant. I appreciated them offering it, but I still wanted to understand what I was accepting.

“There’s a good chance they’d be bullied in to picking a side,” said Étoile. “They’ll be forced to pick a side if they want to live, and the side they pick will all depend on who threatens worst, or who provides the best protection.”

“And what happens if a side loses?”

Étoile sighed. “I really don’t know. I would imagine they would be forced to surrender to the winning party, or face the consequences.”

That didn’t sound promising. I imagined what Georgia Thomas would do if she won, and if she won, would it be as bad as her retaliation if she lost? Finally I wondered if the Brotherhood was as dangerous to witches, as the witches were to themselves. That was not a happy thought at all.

“What about wolves?” I asked, thinking this seemed the best moment for me to finally find out more about the strange world I lived in.

It was Evan who answered. “They are split into packs regionally. As far as organised go, they pretty much have it down. Often they congregate in one place, like Wilding.”

“And vampires?”

“Who knows? Shifty, devious creatures. Let’s hope they keep to themselves.” Étoile’s mouth was set in a firm line, like she wanted to spill the gruesome details but couldn’t quite bear to bring it all out in to the open.

I stifled a snort; that coming from a witch and the witches hadn’t yet struck me as the most solidly honest bunch.

“Don’t look so worried, Stella.” Evan had picked up his book again, and was thumbing through to his turned corner marker.

“It’s hard not to,” I replied, trying to wipe the frown from my forehead, my mind filled with thoughts.

“Étoile and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you won’t, but it’s not like things are looking great. Georgia Thomas, and who knows who else, wants to rule the council and you’ve already said we stand a chance of getting caught up in that even if it’s because we’re forced to choose. The Brotherhood are always going to be a threat...” I tailed off, despondent.

Evan pulled me up onto the sofa next to him and held me close. “You’re not alone anymore, Stella. You never have to be alone again.”

Sixteen

It took me a moment to realise that the strange ringing noise wasn’t just in my ears. I scrabbled around the sofa for my phone, plucking it from under a pillow to answer on the fifth ring. “Hello?”

“Hello. Stella?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly, thinking the voice on the other end sounded familiar, like I should immediately know who was calling.

“Stella Mayweather?” the woman asked again.

“Who’s this?”

“Stella! I can’t believe you asked me that! It’s Kitty.”

Didn’t I feel like a moron. “Kitty! Oh, I’m so happy to hear from you. How’s your leg?” I asked while mouthing at Evan, who had looked up from his laptop:
it’s Kitty!

“Out of a cast, at last. You would not believe how long it took to shave my legs. It was beyond gross. Anyway, I just got out of hospital. Literally! I’m still in the parking lot. I was thinking of coming to visit you, in time for Christmas, if you like?”

I beamed. “I do like. Actually, I love the idea. Come when you like for as long as you like.” I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Seeing Kitty again was a huge boon. She had been my first proper friend and I had missed her enormously in the months since we had last seen each other. “Is Marc with you?” I asked.

“No, Marc left a few days ago. He’s had to go back to New York. Witchy business, you know, but he said to say hi and he’s looking forward to seeing you soon.” Marc had only had a little less time than me to come to terms with magic, though he would have had years of training if it hadn’t been for a powerful spell that bound his powers. He had a lot to come to terms with.