Finesse

finesse

I ggy’s been in a snit since he came home.

He canceled his afternoon lectures to work on the scrying keys he found in Shadwell’s office, but he’s had a devil of a time getting his efforts to produce leads. Being an overachiever and a Type A personality with a healthy ego, he can’t admit defeat—ever. His hair is a mess from raking his hands through it, and there are books on every surface of our living room. I’d offer to help, but I haven’t been able to get more than growls out of him since he showed up with a floating box of supplies and a wild story earlier.

Ignatius Briarton is stubborn as a lame mule and ten times as likely to kick out your teeth when frustrated.

As long as I’ve known him, my roommate has boasted his prowess in magic and his rise to the head of the department at State U proved he wasn’t simply bragging. But he rarely encounters a puzzle he can’t solve and his inability to narrow the focus of a simple scrying spell beyond a particular building is making him lose it.

“Iggy, I’m sure they will understand if you can’t resolve this before tonight. Zuzanne said she’d have something with her to counteract some of the chemical effects. That should buy us some time,” I cajole him as I walk up and rub his shoulders gently.

Throwing my hands off, he looks up with a countenance more concerned than I’ve seen in a long time. “If I can’t triumph over a basic spell to help Morgana’s pet hockey player, how will I convince her to fund the department so I can elevate its program? She’ll be angry and it will only hurt the current and future students, not me. They set my position for life through the endowment, so she can’t ax me. However, she can make me irrelevant when I have no new, promising students enrolling because we can’t keep up.”

I give him a pointed glare. “Also, the bear might die, and that seems like a bad outcome.”

“Yes, yes. The idiot sportsman might die, which I normally would shrug at, but given his lineage…”

The smirk that crawls over my face is unstoppable. “Given his lineage, you’d also have some serious ‘splainin’ to do, and the woman listening is known for eating her rivals.”

Shuddering, he nods. “Yes. Fr?u Wolfenberg isn’t the last person I’d want to piss off, but she’s up there. Being a Kodiak bear whose departed husband was an alpha she fought, killed, and consumed in a sanctioned clan battle makes her fearsome. Her personal net worth being higher than most undeveloped countries gives her power. But her ruthlessness in wielding her seat on the Society’s highest Council? That gives her absolute immunity from normal laws.”

“Yet she’s still a grandmother protecting her cub,” I murmur. “Word has it she sent The Shark to defend him.”

Iggy raises his head at that. “The Shark? She sent Thorne to deal with an obviously trumped up charge made by a lazy ass detective?”

Plopping down on the couch behind him, I go back to rubbing his tense shoulders now that he’s distracted by the conversation. “Yep. I heard he showed up at the station, worked things out for now, and seemed to be familiar with our lovely dean.”

“That makes sense,” he mutters. “Probably the high-rollers at the trial. His family business opens more doors than a butler.”

I dig my fingers into the tight muscles and make a soft sound of agreement. Times like these are hard; I know it affects the two of us differently—a fact that is entirely my problem, not Iggy’s. But I worry when he goes off the rails like this and I don’t want his frustration and desperation to cause him to take unnecessary risks. The time he dabbled in the dark to save his sister during our student years was a close enough call for me. I’ll never allow my friend to get so out of control again.

“I realize there’s a lot at stake here, but you can’t push yourself too far. We both know what happens if you do.” I lean down, getting into his space so he has to look at me and listen. “When Skye was sick?—”

His eyes narrow. “Stop, Slade. I remember what happened.”

“And it was for naught in the end.” I arch a brow at him, not allowing him to silence the truth because he isn’t fond of hearing it. “The magic was too strong and no one—not you or the Councils—could fight it off.”

Rising to his feet, he stands close enough for me to feel the anger vibrating from him. “They sent Skye into a volatile situation with bad intel. It’s their fault she was injured.”

Shaking my head, I stand as well. Iggy is a hair’s breadth from me and, though it tortures me, I don’t allow him to intimidate me. “It was unforeseeable. She was protecting her charge—or trying to. She wouldn’t enjoy knowing you almost killed yourself in a half-assed attempt to save her anymore than I did.”

Iggy huffs for a moment, then waves his hand at me, turning back to his books. “So you’ve said many times. It doesn’t change that I’m once more presented with a rogue magical dilemma with a finite time limit. Especially since I can’t seem to get this one under control, either.”

“Perhaps it’s time to allow me to help? You aren’t the only one with magic, even if mine is geared more keenly towards the arts .” I arch a brow at him, a smile quirking at the corners of my mouth.

“Fine,” he sighs. “If it will keep you from nagging me, I yield. You can bleed for the stone as well, and perhaps the combination of our essence will force it to give me a more accurate location for the spell source.”

“Did that hurt so badly?” Grabbing his athame, I slice a fingertip and squeeze a few droplets onto the object before sucking my finger into my mouth. Iggy rolls his eyes at me, then we both turn to watch the chain as it moves over the maps he has laid out on the table.

This has to work; there is no other option.

“Well, it’s more accurate than the Natural Sciences area,” I say with a sigh.

Iggy pinches the bridge of his nose, looking like he wants to shoot himself. “Yes. You know who runs that greenhouse !”

Point of fact, I do.

“You might have to end this childish feud with Kimiko and ask for her help. It will probably be painful to admit you were a horse’s ass,” I grin broadly as I think about it, “but it will be worth saving Lucas and winning the favor of the mighty Nana.”

My mirth doesn’t help his temperament, because he stands up and makes a beeline for the bar. Very little bothers Ignatius more than having to admit his foibles and the way he ended the casual relationship with Professor Kimiko Nakamura was a total cock-up. He made an unrepentant enemy of her because he refused to simply apologize for taking her for granted and using her access to that very greenhouse for… let’s say, untoward aims.

You really shouldn’t ever cheat on a dryad/earth elemental hybrid in their own greenhouse with a supe whose power is aligned with fire—so many things can and will go wrong.

“I didn’t mean to burn down her other greenhouse! It was an accident. How would I have known that pretty little firebird didn’t have control of her shift?” Iggy throws his hands in the air, his hackles up at the suggestion he could have thought with his big head and not the little one with someone he liked and their beloved babies.

“Kimiko nurtured all those plants like her children, Ignatius. You might as well have killed someone’s familiar. She almost cracked afterward, and all you did was give her excuses. Since you’ve grown up since grad school, you might try burying the hatchet; it’s been almost a damn decade now.”

“She’s the one still holding a grudge!” He slams two fingers worth of whiskey down, then pours another. “How am I going to even approach her? Every time I come within a thousand feet of the greenhouse, I get attacked by pixies and sprites.”

That’s true. Kimmi definitely has the nature supes after him.

“Maybe I’ll go with you? She’s never been angry with me because I didn’t know what stupidity you were up to. I’m water based, but she knows I wouldn’t want her precious plants destroyed again.”

My offer mollifies him a little, and he sips the dark liquid again. “Fine. But we can’t go today. We have a meeting with everyone at Morgana’s, and I’m not missing that to play games with my psycho ex.”

“Kimmi isn’t psycho, Iggy. You fucked up, hurt her, destroyed something she loved, and shrugged. I know you were younger and a much bigger douchebag then because of your father, but you’ve owed her a genuine apology for a long time. Making you give her one may be the Universe’s way of teaching you a lesson about hubris,” I reply softly. “Pride goeth, the humans say.”

“Oh, fuck off, Slade.” His words are grumbled, but I can feel the lilt in his voice.

It’s dirty pool to use my powers to determine people’s verity or emotions, but sometimes, I can’t help it. Our enchantment extends beyond just our voices; sirens possess numerous capabilities with sound and music. Tonality, pitch, vibration, rhythm—all of it is part of our musical inclinations and it applies to any sound we hear. People are unaware that our hearing is comparable to dogs. I suppose my people have never corrected it, either, because it suits us.

“Now, now.” I walk over and bump his shoulder with my own. “Don’t take your frustration with your wicked deeds catching up to you out on me. I’ve done nothing but work to reform you, jackass.”

His lips quirk at the corner, and he gives me a knowing look. “You have, at that.”

This is the shit that throws me off and I swear to Apollo, I have no idea what to do about it.

“Should I throw together something to eat or will we be eating at the meeting?” I ask as I clear my clogged throat.

“Dinner there, I think, though I’d bet Morgana hasn’t considered it while taking care of the polar cub.” He scratches the scruff on his chin, tilting his head. “Think we should order something from Belle’s and have it delivered? That would be neighborly, right?”

Sometimes, I forget that despite Ignatius growing up in a rich, generationally wealthy family with high expectations, he wasn’t taught to deal with normal people as well as I was growing up with gangsters. His manners are excellent if you’re attending a fancy dinner or glad-handing at a fundraiser, but put him with regular supes doing regular shit and he acts like Jane Goodall with the gorillas.

“Yes, it would be a considerate thing to do. Don’t say neighborly unless we transport back to Mayberry in the 1950s, though.” I shake my head as I locate a menu from Belle’s in the kitchen junk drawer. At least his desire to impress the new Dean and the Wolfenberg matron have distracted him from the ugly task we’ll have tomorrow when he has to fix shit with Kimiko.

Iggy takes the bottle and his glass over to the table where he was scrying, sitting in front of it with a frown. “The thing that puzzles me, though, Slade… This greenhouse surely has poisonous plants and herbs that would heal, but that’s the science part. Who is casting spells in Kimiko’s sanctuary? And how has she not noticed and kicked their ass?”

I have to admit: it’s a fair question. If he had attempted to locate the poison’s origin, it would be different. But his incantation was keyed to finding the source of the magical component, so this result means there’s a person casting there. I can’t see why Kimiko would try to kill the young heir, nor discredit the dean. She might hate Ignatius, but that venom is reserved for him because of his actions. This kid didn’t do anything to her and since she wasn’t a Magnus supporter, neither has Morgana.

The whole thing is hinky, my dad would say.

“I don’t know, Iggy. I agree it’s suspicious, and we should be very careful tomorrow. But we also have to share these thoughts and theories with the others tonight. Maybe another viewpoint will shake loose a clue?”

His expression is grim. “It has to or we’re going to fail at saving that kid. That will mean hell to pay—for all of us.”