Old Dog, New Tricks Read online

  I smacked the wood with my open hands. “Can anyone hear me? Hello?”

  Inside, I heard the legs of a chair scooting backward. Footsteps. A click as the knob turned.

  I don’t know what Evander saw in me right then, but he shouted quick orders in his native tongue, and the others leapt to their feet. Even Kerwin, the Unseelie magistrate, and not my biggest fan showed concern. Each dipped a hand into the air and withdrew their weapons from the pockets of ether where they stored them, and as one they all turned their eyes toward Mac.

  Emerald light burst in his hand, darkening until a viscous black magic swirled around his feet.

  He lifted his head, and his nostrils flared. “Trolls.”

  “I killed three of them,” I said, voice trembling, “but Shaw’s hurt.”

  Mac’s gaze swept over me and left me cold and miserable. “Take us to him.”

  I sprinted down to my office, Mac hot on my heels, squinting against the strobing light painting the hallway red. The portal was growing. I swept inside my office and pulled up short.

  Shaw was gone.

  No body. No blood. No tracks. No scent.

  Vanished without a trace.

  “He was right there.” The sharp edge of panic cut into my voice. “Mai?”

  Small as she was in fox form, she might have hidden. She might have...

  I jumped when a hand buzzing with power landed on my shoulder. Heart pounding, I jerked away from the touch, gulping hard at Mac’s grim expression. The icy coldness in his green-black aura clung to my chilled skin. He stalked toward me and snarled in my face. “What happened?”

  I eased back a step. “Shaw—”

  He dug his fingers into my upper arms. “This is bigger than Shaw.”

  “He’s hurt.” Panic narrowed my focus to a fine point. “He was right there. Where is he?”

  Green eyes blazing, Mac homed in on the pendant I hadn’t tucked back into my shirt, and his lip curled. “Why do you still wear that?” He uttered a feral growl. “Remove it and give it to me.”

  My hand closed over the skin-warmed pendant. I meant to lift it over my head, I did, but my elbow locked. I stood there clutching the Morrigan’s coin, frantic for Shaw and desperate to find Mai, my pulse sprinting like my life depended on this moment, frozen in the face of Macsen’s anger.

  A strange expression settled over his features, and his fury dissolved. “It’s a compulsion.”

  “No, it’s not.” I tossed my head until my brain rattled. “I would know if it was.”

  “Give me the necklace,” he demanded.

  Fingers cinched, I extended the hand holding the pendant toward him, but I couldn’t loosen them, couldn’t take off the necklace, couldn’t remember if it tied or clasped or what. The idea of removing it was insane. What would I do without its comforting weight around my neck? Where would I keep my skins? My skins. My gaze broke from Mac and skittered to the closet and its whirling red vortex.

  All my skins.

  Lost.

  The puca. The hound. The selkie.

  All gone.

  Confused tears welled in my eyes.

  “It will be all right,” Mac said gently.

  Faster than my eyes could track, he fisted the chain and jerked. It snapped at my nape with a bite of pain. His arm completed its downward arc, yanking me forward when my hand refused to unclasp and let him take the coin from me. His hand clamped over mine, and he pried loose my fingers one by one.

  Once he alone held the coin, a flare of magic burst from his palm and engulfed his clothing. Red magic lashed him like a tongue of unquenchable flames while a piercing cry made the room tremble.

  Throat burning, I understood the scream came from me. I curled onto my side on the floor and rocked back and forth, stomach roiling, skin too tight, feeling wrong, like a T-shirt turned inside out.

  Face lined with concentration, Mac rubbed his hands together until ash rained from his fingertips.

  The chain, the pendant, all of it, reduced to silver-black dust.

  With a bone-weary sigh, Mac settled his attention back on me, and an emotion dangerously close to disappointment shrouded his features. Power thrummed in his voice when he ordered me, “Sleep.”

  My eyes rolled back in my head.

  Consciousness burst through me like the first gasp of breath after spending too long under water, a shock to my system that jolted me the way a hit of espresso can and jangled my nerves in a sudden fright.

  I bolted upright, magic pooling in my palm, and froze when I saw I wasn’t alone.

  A man wearing a long black cloak stood with his back facing me as he studied an odd collection of archaic implements pinned onto a velvet backing on the table in front of him. A quick downward glance confirmed my worst fears. I sat on another such table, velvet crushed under my sweaty palms.

  My frantic mind supplied me with the mental image of me pinned to the cloth like a butterfly, as part of this freak’s collection. Memories hammered at my sanity. I had been part of a collection once.

  Balamohan laved his sticky-sharp tongue over my skin while he feasted on my death.

  I had to clamp my lips shut to choke the dry heaving. “Where am I?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” The black-clad figure turned. “We’re leaving.”

  “Mac?” He was dressed in black leather armor similar to what I had worn during the Coronation Hunt.

  “The outpost in Wink has been warded. The marshal’s office has been blood warded. By me.”

  In Wink sounded like we weren’t there anymore, but we had to be, right?

  The bitter sweat from an adrenaline dump soaked through my shirt. A burst of ripe panic pushed me to my feet. Jittery as a spider on caffeine, I was all twitchy legs and a frantic heart.

  “Where is Shaw?” Fear dried my tongue. “I have to finish healing him.”

  Mac rapped his knuckles on the wall in front of him, and a door swung open behind me.

  I turned in time to watch Mai enter wearing baggy sweatpants rolled up at the ankles, socks and a T-shirt she could have worn as a dress with the right belt. Her hair was damp and her face bruised.

  My throat squeezed tight. “Mai...”

  She stopped several feet away from me and asked Mac, “Is she clean?”

  Clean? I recoiled from her harsh tone, the cold phrasing.

  “I examined her again before I let her wake,” my father answered just as cryptically.

  I leaned against the table for support. “What’s going on?”

  Cool and assessing, Mai studied me for signs of...foaming at the mouth? Dilated pupils? I don’t know what she expected to see.

  “The Morrigan rolled you.” Mai cocked her hip and crossed her arms over her chest. “When she one-upped your ‘gift’, she took the liberty of coating it with one hella nasty compulsion.” Fingers tapping her upper arms, she added, “All so you wouldn’t remove the pendant, wouldn’t want it removed, and would give whoever tried to force you holy hell for the attempt. She needed to make sure it stuck to you so you wouldn’t squeal on her closet renovations until she was ready for the big reveal.” She eased closer. “You were lucky, Tee. If Mac hadn’t been there to absorb the kickback when he broke the chain, you would be dead.”

  “Is that...?” I wrapped my arms around my middle. “Is that why you’re angry with me?”

  “She isn’t angry,” Mac said without turning. “This is the third time I have woken you.”

  “The third time?” I rubbed my forehead. “The last thing I remember was...”

  “It’s okay.” Mai stepped forward again. “Some of your memory is missing.”

  I spluttered before my brain got traction. “How is that okay?”

  “You lost four point three seconds,” Mac said. “You won’t miss them.”

  “How did—?” I pointed at his back and asked Mai, “Did he—?” I swayed on my feet. “I think I need to sit down for a minute.” My knees buckled, and my butt hit the floor. “Was anyone hurt?”
A gut-wrenching flash of Shaw’s pulped face in my mind kept me swallowing to keep my throat clear.

  No Shaw. No body. There had been no body.

  “Oh God, Shaw.” My nails scraped over the tile. “Where is he? What happened? Is he all right?”

  Mac turned at last, and his color was ashen. “He was taken.”

  “Taken,” I parroted.

  “There was a fourth troll,” Mai said quietly. “He must have been the lookout on the opposite side of the portal. When the others didn’t return, he popped in, saw what happened and grabbed Shaw.” Her head dropped, chin bumping her chest. “I fought them. I tried—” Her voice broke. “I was too scared to shift back. I got stuck. Stuck. I couldn’t cry for help.” She sniffled. “I should have followed them.”

  Numbness drifted into my thoughts, cloaking me like fog from the truth of it all.

  Shaw was gone.

  The trolls had taken him.

  The Morrigan...she would demand a report, and they would use him as their scapegoat.

  The weight of Mai’s stare pressed down on me until I forced out, “You did the right thing.”

  “A kitsune is no match for a troll,” Mac soothed.

  This shed new light on Mai’s anger. She wasn’t pissed at me over the compulsion. She was mad at herself for letting fear stop her from acting. Or worse, what she thought I would see as cowardice.

  “He’s right.” I placed a hand over my heart to reassure myself it was still beating. “They would have...” I held my tongue. “Trolls don’t play nice. You did the right thing by keeping yourself safe.”

  Mai’s lips pinched into a flat line, but she didn’t argue with me.

  “The Morrigan won’t kill him,” Mac rumbled with certainty.

  A sour grin puckered my mouth. “I notice you didn’t say she wouldn’t let him die.”

  Enough pain made you long for death. Starvation was an ugly way to go.

  Feet planted wide, he gave me what he could. “Shaw is too valuable as a hostage.”

  As much as I hated the thought of Shaw being used as leverage, I had to believe Mac was right.

  Lock it down. Stow away the fear. Strangle the panic. Shaw needed me at my best.

  “Why today?” I lowered my hand when Mac noticed its placement. “What did they want?”

  “The timing,” Mai said, “was too perfect. You aren’t at the office every day, and the Morrigan is smart enough not to leave a freaking portal into Faerie humming until you showed up. She knew the decision was being announced today. She knew she had to act. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  Gut dropping, I said, “There’s a mole in the office.”

  “Fifteen people knew the vote was coming,” Mac said.

  Ten were magistrates, so five pairs, one Seelie and one Unseelie, from each of the five conclave divisions across the United States. Shaw made eleven, Mai twelve, Mac thirteen, Mable fourteen and I was fifteen.

  “Families going to ground, like mine,” Mai added, “are heeding rumors straight from Faerie.”

  I nodded, understanding what she left unsaid. She had known, and she hadn’t told her skulk. She trusted that her father’s connections would get word out to her family without compromising herself.

  “Each of us was summoned personally by Evander. For the Morrigan to know, someone reached out to her after he visited them.” Mac returned his attention to the table. “For the portal to have been active when you arrived, she needed time to prepare. That means one of the first informed her.”

  “Or that he informed her first.” I considered the likelihood of a Seelie setting aside millennia of hatred for the Unseelie. Even if richly compensated, it was a tossup. “There’s also the possibility Kerwin snitched to the Morrigan while Evander’s back was turned.”

  Mac was right. The trap had already been set, and we walked right into it. The only reason Mai was involved at all was because she came with Shaw to rescue me from Balamohan. Evander had no reason to tell her about the vote. I had done that, because I selfishly wanted to see her before we left.

  Shaw and I were the last ones rounded up, and thanks to my folks’ spat, we arrived at the office well after the charm had been activated upstairs, promising the trolls and the portal plenty of privacy.

  Speaking of the parental units... “Where is Mom?” Calm as Mac was, I knew she must be fine. “Did she make it to the office? She’s okay, right?”

  Grimness settled into the lines around Mac’s mouth. “She is at home under Sven’s guardianship.”

  Sour as his expression turned, I wasn’t about to ask how his declaration went. Instead I let it slide and tipped my head back. Sven was a good guy. He would protect her with his life. “What was the point of the attack?”

  “The trolls came armed with never blades.”

  Never heard of them. “What are those?”

  “If the blade pierces your skin, you won’t stop bleeding without magical intervention.” Mac hesitated. “Sometimes even that isn’t enough.”

  I glanced at my right hand where the cut had been but wasn’t now. “You healed me.”

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s beyond my abilities to heal. I stopped the bleeding, for now. The wound is concealed beneath a layer of glamour so that no one who doesn’t expect your injury will see it.”

  I flexed my hand. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Had it hurt before? I couldn’t remember.

  “It’s all part of the enchantment folded into the blades. Victims are slower to panic if they don’t feel pain. By the time most notice they’ve been cut, they’re weak and easy prey to what hunts them.”

  I gulped hard. “Can it be cured?”

  “Once we’re in Faerie,” Mac said solemnly, “I know a place we can go.”

  Mai came closer, extending her arm down to where I sat, and I hesitated. I was right-handed, but I shied away from putting pressure on the binding and offered an awkward left-handed grip instead.

  A grunt of effort later, she tugged me onto my feet beside her.

  “I’m not that heavy,” I grumbled.

  “It really is you.” She laughed. “I wasn’t sure.”

  Still woozy, I leaned my hip against hers for balance. “How bad was it?”

  “The Morrigan had her hooks in deep. She was talking through you. Screaming through you was more like it. Mac called it a suggestive echo from keeping the pendant against your skin for so long.”

  Considering what had happened to Shaw, I felt selfish for asking, “What about my skins?”

  “I retrieved them before I warded the portal.” Mac turned. “You can have them back when you master creating your own aer póca. Until that time, I’ll store them with my things. Sound fair?”

  “I don’t sense I have much say in the matter, so sure.” I rolled a shoulder. “I’m guessing the aer thing is the pocket of air sidhe use to hide weapons? I saw the magistrates use them. Rook does too.”

  Mac was right to want me able to protect what was mine without borrowing from higher powers.

  I had learned my lesson the hard way today.

  “By right of creation, I am sidhe and their powers are mine to use as I will.” He considered me a moment. “As my child, their magics are yours as well.”

  Meaning their language, which had always fascinated me, was mine to learn as well.

  Interesting.

  But not interesting enough to distract me. “How common are never blades?”

  “They aren’t.” With his finger, Mac traced a design on the table by his hip. “The cost of kindling one is so great few can afford them. They require a sacrifice. A life for each blade awakened.” He let me think on that. “They aren’t carried by trolls for longer than it takes one to complete its mission. Then the blades are returned to their masters.”

  Their mission was obvious, but saying it out loud gave me the willies. “They came for me.”

  Mac faced me fully, grim lines aging his flawless skin to match the weary strain in his
eyes.

  “The Morrigan needs my blood to erase the threshold. If she has you—your blood—she may not barter with me until she knows if yours is as potent. Even knowing it might not work, even if it takes every drop...” his voice lowered to a thick rasp, “...the Morrigan won’t stop until you bleed for her.”

  I stared at my glamour-encased hand. “It was a test.”

  Quiet anger thrummed through him. “I think so, yes.”

  “She had me cut, fixed it so the trolls used a blade that would short out my healing abilities and then told them to drag me bleeding through the portal.” I pieced it together. “The Morrigan planned to sit back and watch what happened. If I smudged the threshold on my way across or shorted it out...”

  “It would prove your blood could erase the ward,” Mac finished.

  I rocked back on my heels, glancing between them. “So where does this leave us?”

  “The magistrates are tucked away in pairs in remote locations across the country.” Mai tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Mable, of course, will stay put at the marshal’s office. She’s monitoring the portal and relaying information as it develops between us, the marshals, the magistrates and their respective outposts.” Her attempt at a smile waned. “Basically just another day at the office for her.”

  My throat tightened, and the room became veiled by unshed tears I blinked rapidly to dispel.

  I would not lose someone else I loved to this war and my own foolishness.

  Mac widened his stance. “She has options if the main floors have to be evacuated.”

  I almost laughed. “How many options can a bean-tighe have with her house under attack?”

  “More than you might think,” he answered. “Her kind is heartier than you know.”

  “Fine.” I caved. “What about us?”

  “We go to Faerie,” he said, “and we sever the tethers—”

  “Just like that?” I had expected the answer, but it stuck in my craw. “We let the Morrigan win?”

  “Shush.” Mai rested her hand on my arm. “Let the man talk.”

  With a polite nod to Mai, Mac continued, “We will go to Faerie and sever the tethers, cutting off the Morrigan’s escape routes. When she can’t slide into the mortal realm through existing pathways, she will realize she has to forge her own, and she can’t without my blood to anchor a new tether.”