Authors: Chloe Neill
Drink Deep (35 page)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
WHICH WITCH IS WHICH?
T
en silent minutes later, we’d reconvened in the Ops Room. All except Frank, who’d gone upstairs to make a phone call, undoubtedly to the GP.
en silent minutes later, we’d reconvened in the Ops Room. All except Frank, who’d gone upstairs to make a phone call, undoubtedly to the GP.
The
Maleficium
was gone.
Maleficium
was gone.
The ashes were gone. No—
Ethan’s
ashes were gone.
Ethan’s
ashes were gone.
“How could she have done this?” Luc quietly asked. “Not only to take the
Maleficium
, but to steal the ashes? Such a thing isn’t done. It’s not right. It’s sacrilege.”
Maleficium
, but to steal the ashes? Such a thing isn’t done. It’s not right. It’s sacrilege.”
“It is what it is,” Malik calmly said. “However horrendous the act, we shouldn’t convict her of the crime without facts. We don’t have any evidence she’s done it. Most important, why? Why would a burgeoning sorceress do such a thing?”
“I can’t tell you why she did it,” Lindsey said, turning back from her computer station, her face unusually pale. “But I can confirm that she did it.”
We all moved to her computer, where Lindsey had pulled up two segments of security video. “We don’t actively monitor the basement camera because it’s right beside the Ops Room,” she said, “but we record the video. It’s motion activated, so it didn’t take long to find what we were looking for.”
The video was black and white and grainy, but there was no mistaking Mallory Delancey Carmichael, ad exec turned sorceress, taking the
Maleficium
from the vault.
Maleficium
from the vault.
“How did she get the vault open?” I quietly asked.
“Magic,” Lindsey said. “I fast-forwarded through that part. It gives me the willies.”
“She only has the book,” Malik pointed out, but Lindsey shook her head.
“No, she only has the book this
trip
. She takes the ashes four days later. Runs the same play both times—the same magic, I mean.”
trip
. She takes the ashes four days later. Runs the same play both times—the same magic, I mean.”
“Why the delay?” Malik wondered. “Why take the risk? Why not take them both at the same time?”
In the silence, I’d been piecing together the quilt of my experiences with Mallory and Tate over the last few days—what I’d learned from Tate about magic, and what I’d seen of Mallory.
The finished product wasn’t looking good.
“Because she didn’t know she wanted the ashes,” I quietly said, then glanced at Malik. “She profun">oodbably learned about the
Maleficium
while working with Simon. She’d used black magic before. Maybe using it made her curious.”
Maleficium
while working with Simon. She’d used black magic before. Maybe using it made her curious.”
“That only explains the book,” Luc said.
But I shook my head. “When I visited Tate, he listed some spells that might require the mixing of magic we’ve seen this week. One of them,” I said, “is making a familiar.”
“A familiar?” Luc asked.
“A kind of magical assistant,” I said. “They help sorcerers funnel the magic they have to wield. A familiar gives them extra capacity, like an external magical hard drive.”
“That’s a frightening benefit,” Luc said. “But I’m confused—you think Tate’s making a familiar?”
“Not Tate,” I said, nerves and stomach rattling. “I think Mallory might be. She’s used black magic before, and she’s created a familiar before. A cat. But it’s not right—there’s something wrong about it. She gave me an excuse, but now . . . I don’t know. And she’s mentioned she wished there were more of her to help work the magic.”
The room was quiet, everyone considering what I’d said.
“A sorceress is being tested this week,” I continued. “A sorceress who understands how to make a familiar, at least on a small scale, and who’s stolen a book of magic that can help her do more than just dabble in black magic. Ethan’s ashes are gone, and now the city is falling apart because good and black magic are being mixed.”
“That’s a far-fetched idea,” Kelley said. “Attempting to revive a vampire to make them a familiar.”
“Unfortunately,” Malik said, “it’s not entirely far-fetched.” He looked at me. “Do you know why there are no sorcerers in Chicago, Merit?”
I shook my head.
“It is an anachronism from the days when relationships between vampires and sorcerers were more strained than they are today. If things have progressed the way you suggest, it is not the first time sorcerers have made such an attempt.”
The room went silent, all eyes on Malik.
“The making of a familiar requires the application of powerful magic to something—or someone—who the sorcerer desires to make a familiar. The capacity to make that kind of magic is rare, and the capacity of the familiar depends upon their power.”
“So a vampire can hold more magic than a cat,” I offered.
Malik nodded. “And a Master vampire can hold more power than a still-pink Initiate. The last time a sorcerer tried to make a vampire into a familiar, a Navarre House vampire was kidnapped. She was discovered later in the sorcerer’s lair, a mindless, slathering thing.”
I shuddered involuntarily.
“The sorcerer exerts a measure of control over the familiar,” Malik said. “They become service animals, in effect. Mindless, without free will.”
Even as a part of me was thrilled by the idea that Ethan could return at all, hope curdled at the thought that Mallory was attempting to turn him into a mind-controlled zombie. I suddenly had a little less sympathy for her stress—and a lot more sympathy for the cat.
“The sorceress was identified, and she was dealt with by Navarre House. And when that was done, vampires forbade the Order from working in Chicago.orking icag a fa
That explained why the Order hadn’t wanted Catcher to visit Chicago, and why they’d kicked him out when he insisted. It also said a lot about Ethan—that he’d been willing to take Catcher in upon his arrival despite what sorcerers had once done.
“If a sorcerer tried this before,” Luc asked, “why didn’t we see the same kind of effects? The natural disasters?”
“We did,” Malik assuredly said. “We saw the Great Fire.”
The Great Fire of 1871 had destroyed huge swaths of the city.
“The Order argued it was a coincidence,” Malik said, “but having seen what we’ve seen this week, there’s a strong argument they were equally in denial then.”
“But you’re talking about turning a living vampire into a familiar. Ethan is gone,” Luc quietly said. “There is nothing left of him but ash. How could she make that happen?”
“If he was human, she probably couldn’t,” Malik said. “But vampires are different than humans. Genetically. Physiologically. The ties that bind the soul are different—which is why the body simply turns to ash.”
“This is real,” Luc said after a moment of silence, crossing himself. It was an odd move for a vampire, but there was no doubting the sincerity in his expression.
Malik stood up and pushed back his chair. “I’m going to alert the Order to the possibility that a sorceress is attempting to create a familiar, and has done so using the ashes of a Master vampire. I will also alert them that she may be using the
Maleficium
to do so, and that her attempts may completely disrupt the order of the natural world. Does that sum it up?”
Maleficium
to do so, and that her attempts may completely disrupt the order of the natural world. Does that sum it up?”
Guilt heavy on my shoulders, I nodded.
He looked at me. “I know that she is practically your family. But this is a crime the GP will not let go unpunished.”
I nodded my understanding, and hoped I wouldn’t have to be the instrument of her destruction.
I waited in the darkened cafeteria for a phone call. I hadn’t been able to reach Jonah or Catcher, and I’d left frantic messages for both of them.
And now . . . I was waiting.
Of course I had to stop her. I had to keep her from finishing whatever magic she was attempting to work. I had to keep the city safe, and I had no doubt that life as a mindless familiar under Mallory’s control wasn’t a life Ethan would want. He was too independent to be under the thumb of anyone, let alone a woman so focused on achieving a magical end she was willing to destroy Chicago to do it.
How had Catcher missed this? Why hadn’t he seen what she was doing, what she was becoming? Why hadn’t he stopped her before it got this far . . . before I had to be the one to clean it up?
I put my elbows on the table and my forehead in my hands, and I rued my luck. It was a catch-22, and I was the one who had to pull the trigger.
My phone rang, and I glanced over at the screen.
But it wasn’t Jonah or Catcher.
It was Mallory.
With shaking fingers, I opened the phone. “Hello?”
“I’m behind the House. Meet me outside. Alone.”
I shut the phone again, but one?” not before texting Jonah to let him know what I was doing. I tucked the phone into my pocket, then walked to the fence, pushed through a bare spot in the shrubbery, and scaled it. This time, my landing was more graceful, even if a half-crazed, pissed-off sorceress was the only one there to see it.
She stood in front of Catcher’s car, a hipster sedan. The blue of her hair seemed to have faded even more since I’d seen her earlier; it was now nearly completely blond. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hands were chapped and shaking. She looked like an addict in the middle of a wicked craving.
Maybe she was.
My temper rising, I had to remind myself that she was the same person, blue hair or blond, black magic or good.
Mallory pushed off the car and walked forward, carrying an oily breeze of magic with her. I stood my ground. I’d expected at this moment to feel fear or regret, but neither was at the top of the list. Most of all, I was pissed that she’d invaded my home, stolen precious things, and determined to use them for her own narcissistic purposes.
“What have you done?”
“Are you accusing me of something, vampire?”
“I trusted you. I asked you to stay with me when he died because I needed you there. You violated that trust twice over.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. You stole things from us, Mallory. From me. Where’s the
Maleficium
, and where are his ashes?”
Maleficium
, and where are his ashes?”
“Gone.”
My knees shook, and I had to lock them to keep myself upright. “So you could make him a familiar?”
She looked away, but I saw the guilt in her eyes. And that’s when I knew this was the real deal, and she’d done it knowing full well what she’d gotten into.
“Black magic isn’t what we thought it was,” she said.
“There’s not an excuse in the world you can make to me right now.”
“It’s unfair!” she screamed into the night. “Do you think it’s right that there’s this entire body of magic that I’m not supposed to use? That I’m not supposed to access? Do you know how that feels? Wrong, Merit! It feels
wrong
to funnel magic that’s only half right. That’s only half made. Good and evil should be together. And if this is a way to do it, then by God it’s what I’ll do. I cannot live like this.”
wrong
to funnel magic that’s only half right. That’s only half made. Good and evil should be together. And if this is a way to do it, then by God it’s what I’ll do. I cannot live like this.”
“You very well can fucking live like this, just like every other sorcerer in history. You do not come into my House and steal a book of evil, and
then
steal the ashes of my Master and try to turn him into your servant!”
then
steal the ashes of my Master and try to turn him into your servant!”
“But it would bring him back to you.”
I stopped cold, biting my lip to stop tears from falling. “I don’t want him back. Not like that. It will
not
be him. And not if I have to lose you to it, Mallory. You are my sister in every way that counts.”
not
be him. And not if I have to lose you to it, Mallory. You are my sister in every way that counts.”
She made a snort. “You traded me in for him, and you know it.”
“Not any more than you traded me in for Catcher.” I softened my voice. “Neither one of us traded the other in. We grew up, and we grew to love others. But I don’t want him, not like that. And he wouldn’t want it, either.” I watched her for a moment, truly wondering if that was the reason why she’d done the things she had.hinot As much as I loved her, I wasn’t sure.
“You didn’t do this for me,” I said.
“Bullshit,” she threw out, but the word lacked force. Ethan was a pawn in the game, an excuse for her to dabble in black magic. Maybe Simon was stupid enough, naïve enough, that he honestly didn’t know what she’d been doing. Maybe he hadn’t known he’d poisoned his star pupil on black magic, and like a junkie needing a hit, she’d do anything to get a little more, the consequences be damned.
“You did this for you.” I recalled what she’d said about black magic, about people misunderstanding it. “You tasted black magic and you liked it. Not at first, maybe, but eventually you decided that you liked it. Ethan might have been a handy side benefit, but he’s an excuse. Your excuse for tearing the city apart.”
“What would you know about it? About the forces inside me? I know the origin stories. Magic separated—good from evil—like twins forced apart.” She yanked at her T-shirt. “I can feel them, Merit, and they need to be back together.”
She closed her eyes and raised her hands, and magic began to flow in a great circle around us. I could feel it spinning at my back like a centrifuge, the motion pulling me back against it.
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