Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 23

Assoon as I make the final turn towards home, Az’s burner phone goes off. Shelaughs as she retrieves it from her purse. “It’s probably Jose. He’s as big a worrywartas you.”

Shedoesn’t answer it right away. When I hear an ocelot purr for a fourth time, Iglance over at her. Troubled blue eyes are fixed on the screen.

“It’snot Jose, is it?”

Sheshakes her head. After sucking in a bracing breath, she taps the screen andraises the phone to her ear. I shut the radio off so I can hear the caller.

“Hello,Uncle Evan,” she greets gently, if not quite warmly.

“Areyou still in Houston, my dear?” Mage Evan Shica’s voice carries well over theconnection.

“Yes.My stay is open-ended.” Her left hand inches toward me. She plants her feetflat on the floorboard and sits up straight.

Idrive by the house and pull into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store.This conversation needs to be private. I link my fingers with Az’s and give herhand a comforting squeeze.

“Iwould be happy to buy you a plane ticket to St. Louis,” Shica offers.

“Ican’t do commercial flights. Too many people crowded in such a small place. Alwaysat least one person with magic. I’ll freak for sure.”

“Ican arrange for someone to drive you to St. Louis. Your Aunt Evelyn would bedelighted to fly down there to drive you up. You two could take a road trip andstop in Natchez to tour the old homes. Your aunt is always looking for someoneto go antiquing with.”

Azfrowns. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Youseemed eager to visit Memphis last time you were here. I could meet the two ofyou down there for a long weekend.”

Shicais exceptionally insistent on getting Az the hell out of Houston. Is it becausehe genuinely wants to spend time with her or is he trying to get her out of thecrossfire? Does he know what’s going on here? Is he responsible for what’sgoing on here?

“That’sa really sweet offer, Uncle Evan, but I like it here. I am with people whoaccept me, who care for me. I want to call Houston home.”

Idon’t have time to be warmed by her words. Shica curses everything from Az’sfather to her stubbornness and the female sex as a whole. Az pulls the phoneaway from her ear as his volume grows with every venomous word.

“MageShica,” she interrupts firmly, coldly, “I have made my decision.”

“Youare right where your father put you,” he spats. “With a pack full of Shifters. He might as well have dumpedyou in the garbage.”

Hergrip on my hand tightens. Sharp fingernails dig furrows into the back of myhand. “There is nothing wrong withShifters.”

“Theirentire existence is abhorrent.”

“Somewould say the same about me,” she counters angrily. “Some have said the same about me.”

Shicasighs. The silence thickens until it’s nearly stifling. Just when I think he’shung up on Az, he speaks. “Is this your final decision, my dear? Do I have anychance of changing your mind?”

“UncleEvan, I love you and Aunt Evelyn. Dearly. And I am more than grateful for all you’vedone for me. But I want to see this through. I want a life of my own – one thatI choose and control.”

“Youdo not have to stay where your father sends you,” he says. “He has washed hishands of you. You should think about why he sent you to Houston of all places. Ifhe truly wanted to hide you, he would not have put you so close to his ownregion.”

“Perhapshe wants to keep an eye on me. Things were… complicated in St. Paul.” The frownon her face makes it clear that Az doesn’t believe her own words.

Thelaughter that comes from Shica is pure malevolence. A growl catches in the backof my throat. St Paul – where someone broke Az’s arm as a punishment for takinga damn flashlight – is no laughing matter.

“Werethat the case, my dear, he could have sent you back to Biloxi. You do seem tohave an affinity for the Gulf Coast.” Shica laughs again. If he were a Shifter,I bet he’d be a hyena. “I am certain the Qigan Brotherhood would be more thanhappy to have you again.”

Sheshakes her hand free from mine, unbuckles her seatbelt, and draws her knees toher chest. Her submissive pose. Her face pales. Fear dulls her eyes to a murkyblue. The stench of it quickly fills the car. I crack open a window to let infresh air before the overwhelming odor forces me to Shift.

“Wepromised to never speak of Biloxi again.” Her voice is no more than a whisper. Theway it cracks on ‘Biloxi’ just makes the urge to Shift harder to ignore. “I amasking – begging, if I must – for a chance to live with people who like me for who I am and don’t give a damn about what I am. Why are you so against this? Ithought you would be happy for me.”

“Theyare not people. They are Shifters! Perversionsof magic!” he shouts. “Your father gave you away to our enemy. And you’rewillingly fraternizing with them. You aren’t a witch, Astraea, but I expectedbetter from you.”

Princessgoes completely still. Her eyes fall shut. She swallows, licks her lips. “That’sthe second time you’ve mentioned the pack. How exactly do you know I am withShifters?”

“Thinkabout what I said, Astraea, about your father and your choices. If you changeyour mind, do not hesitate to call. I will come for you.”

Shica’swords – ones that sound more like a threat than a promise – linger in the airlong after he’s disconnected the call.

Thephone falls from Az’s hands and bounces off the seat to disappear somewherenear the center console. There are things I want to say, questions I wantanswered, but I hold my tongue. How she reacts to the phone call will drive howI react to her.

Notears fall from her eyes. She doesn’t call Shica a jackass or a bastard or anyof a dozen suitable epithets. She doesn’t rage or weep or cry about how unfairher life is. She just sits there with closed eyes and pursed lips.

“Princess,I think -,” I start, when the quiet grows too uncomfortable too bear.

“Iwould like to return home,” she interrupts primly. Her voice is tight, as ifshe’s holding on to her composure by a thread. “I need to go through Olivet’sthings. If the room we found was his secret study, then I fear we’re going tohave a problem.”

Yeah.Because having a warlock creating not-Shifters by killing centaurs for bloodand draining witches to death isn’t enough of a problem. “What kind ofproblem?”

“Thekind where Olivet may be a pawn rather than the puppet master. He may not evenrealize the extent to which he’s being played.” Her eyes slowly open. She keepsher gaze fixed on the air vent in front of her. Her fingers tap out anirregular beat on her bare shins. “He had what you’d expect to replace in awarlock’s house.”

“Idon’t understand.”

Shewriggles her nose. “Nothing there would be out of place in Sally’s home. It’smore advanced than your typical magic user would have, but there isn’t anythingto suggest that Olivet has the knowledge necessary to create not-Shifters.”

Itclicks. “So someone else fed him what he needs to know and is using him to takeover Houston.” No, it doesn’t quite click. “But why bother with the subterfuge?Won’t the mastermind have to deal with getting Olivet out of the way?”

Sheturns her head and blinks at me. Silent as a sphinx, she just stares. Okay, soshe wants me to figure it out.

“Becausethey can’t be here,” I say, feeling like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. “Beingin Houston would attract attention, so they set Olivet up to take over. No onewould suspect him. You said this was too sloppy to be a Mage, but if it’ssloppy then no one will suspect a Mage.”

Whichleaves the Mage of St. Louis and the Mage of New Orleans as prime suspects. Thefather who dumped Az in the middle of this mess or the uncle who is alarminglydesperate to have her under his roof. That explains her silence, I suppose.

“Myfather’s territory has recently expanded into Beaumont,” she murmurs. “It wouldnot be out of the question to believe that he has his eye on Houston.”

Goodpoint. But it’s not the only explanation. I have another theory. “Shica has tofeel threatened by Vardan’s development. Shica could be looking to cut Vardanoff at the pass.”

Thesmile she flashes me is bittersweet. “It could be the Mage of South Beachlooking for a new route for his trafficking business.”

“Likely?”

Hersmile fades. “No. Mage Ramirez is quite content with his slice of Florida. Theonly other alternative is a new player, but…”

Ipick up her train of thought – which is fucking scary by itself, let me tellyou. “It takes balls to get in between Shica and Vardan. There’s no one on thehorizon with big enough brass ones.”

Istart the car back up and head home. Az doesn’t speak on the short drive. Idon’t ask any questions until we’re in the driveway. Given how she’d reacted toShica’s mention of it, I am hesitant to bring up Biloxi, but I have to know. I need to know what can cause that levelof fear. It’s a weak spot, and it’s my job to protect her weaknesses.

“Whathappened in Biloxi, Az?”

Sheexhales shakily. The hands that reach for the door handles are trembling sohard she can’t lever it open. “We don’t speak of Biloxi.”

“Whatis the Qigan Brotherhood?”

Astartled gasp passes through her parted lips. Her gaze flits across my facebefore settling on my chest. Her chest rises and falls with each rapid breathshe takes. I don’t like having to putthat stricken look in her eyes but this is necessary.

“Theyare a cult of necromancers.”

“Astraea,”I prompt. So far she hasn’t told me anything that justifies her fear of Biloxior the Qigan Brotherhood. Necromancers are creepy bastards, but they tend to beisolationists. Though, Mississippi is an “M” state, and that could explain agreat deal.

Aflash of anger crosses her face. It’s better than the stricken expression she’sbeen wearing. Good. She needs to replace her backbone. Her hands steady. Shecontinues to stare at my chest.

“Whenyou die, that’s supposed to be it. Game over. The energy goes off to whereverenergy goes, and your body goes to the ground to rot. That’s the natural orderof things.”

“I’mwith you so far.”

Herlips curl back in a snarl. This is the first she’s spoken of her past with anyreal emotion. “Even at eleven, I knew that it took a fairly depraved level offucked-up to mess with the natural order to the degree that the QiganBrotherhood did. They were not content to raise the recently dead. They said itwas too pedestrian. Unfortunately for them, going against nature to such anextent makes the magic unstable. Scary unstable. To them, I was the answer to aprayer.”

“Youacted as their safety valve in the event the magic got out of control.”

“Myacquiescence was not required.”

Ihold up a hand when it looks like she’s going to tell me more. I can’t knowmore. Not without Shifting. “I swear that you will never have to tell thisstory again. Nor will you ever go anywhere near the fucking Qigan Brotherhood.”

“Thank you.”

Weneed a time out from each other. I need a breather so that I can look at herand see Az – our Az - rather than the young, frightened girl damnednecromancers used as their kill switch. She needs time to fully compose herselfand get over the wounds inflicted during her conversation with Shica.

“Seewhat Jose needs help with. I’m going to go through the RoW and make up thatlist of recently covenless witches.”

“Whilehe’s checking for dead centaurs, Greer should look for reports of missingwitches,” Az suggests.

It’sa good idea. If we can establish a pattern for the missing witches, we cannarrow down Olivet’s hunting ground. I gesture for her to go on ahead. Jose iswaiting near the garage door. He’s been pacing like an expectant father forfive minutes.

Balancingboth boxes from Olivet’s room of doom is easy. Maintaining that balance when Icatch a whiff of not-Shifter just behind me? Not quite as easy.

Theboxes tumble from my arms as I spin around to face the threat. Az stops halfwaybetween the SUV and a snarling Jose. Broken glass and piles of herbs coat theground around me. I Shift without giving instructions to Az or Jose.

I’venever laughed when Shifted, and the sound that comes from my throat is more ofa roar than a chuckle. How did Olivet know I needed an outlet for my rage? The fournot-Shifters on the edge of the wards retreat a step. One of them looks likehe’s ready to bolt. In mid-Shift form, they are the ugliest damn things I haveever seen.

Ican’t wait to make them uglier.