Chapter 2

The first place I went after leaving the forge was Death Row. Today the market was filled with activity, buzzing with energy. Very little of it good. More than one pair of eyes shot my way, widening and then darting away.

"Crash."

I turned to Gerry, the leather and armor artisan that had befriended Bree. "Geraldine."

She grimaced. "I hate it when you call me that. What are you here for?"

It was a good question, one I couldn't put my finger on. I'd driven around Savannah for an hour before finding myself here. I wasn't sure I could just go and sit at Haven House, knowing that Bramble would arrive, but not until noon.

I bent as if looking at the wares on her table. "Have you heard anything lately? Anything at all?"

"About what?" Gerry mimicked me, pointing out some random items that I picked up, as if truly inspecting them. If I had been shopping, I surely would not need to inspect her wares—there were none finer in all the Shadow world.

"Witch. Vampire. Spell," I muttered the three words, just under my breath.

"Hmm. Two out of three I can say for sure." She pointed to a leather-bound book, a thick string of leather wrapped around it three times. "Hand that to me."

I did as she asked and handed her the journal, the weight of it telling me nothing. Gerry flipped it open and with her finger, traced a few words inside.

"See? You don't even need a pen. It's like a modern day iPad, just with leather." Her grin was a little shaky. I went to dig coins out of my pocket, but of course I had only just been called back to life the day before.

I had clothes, that was about it on me.

I flipped the book open and stared at the words on the paper. A name. One I hadn't thought to see at all when it came to helping this situation—not after what had happened at the graveyard.

Roderick was on my shit list. Perhaps he was worth checking out.

"Very nice, Geraldine. Save one for me, I'll purchase it when I am through next." I handed the book back to her and she shook her head. "Nah, you take it. I think Bree would love it."

I turned away with the journal, thanking her over my shoulder. I didn't want her to see the pain that hearing Bree's name on her lips caused me.

What if you can't save her?

What if she dies and it's your fault?

What if…

The fears and ‘what if's' rolled through me as I walked through Death Row, nodding at different vendors as if I weren't in a hurry in the least. Oster Boone's books were all laid out at the end of the row, but no leprechaun manning the station. Had he been taken by the Dark Council? It was possible, he'd been working under cover and they might have found him out.

But for now, I wasn't looking for Oster.

I let myself out of Death Row, and slipped between the brick walls, and narrow alley that led to the Council of Savannah's chambers—Roderick had an entrance to his lair, one that was well hidden so he could come and go whenever the council had need of him.

The smell of burnt wood and shattered spells still lingered in the air as I crossed into the council chamber.

A tingle along my spine was the only warning I got. That and Nancy.

"Someone behind you, you big oaf."

I spun and caught the wrist of my attacker, stopping a short sword sweeping down toward my shoulder with less than an inch to spare.

My attacker snarled and lunged at me, pointed rat face snapping its teeth, it's nose twitching and whiskers dancing as it swung its free hand, claws coming for my face.

I squeezed, and snapped the rat faced creature's wrist, bending it backward, and then yanking the creature off balance.

It was no match for me, but I doubted it was even here for me. "What are you doing?"

"Smell girl on you." The creature whimpered, then lunged and bit into my calf. I howled and kicked it with my free foot, sending it skittering across the floor.

"Me next, me!" Nancy yelled.

I didn't have any other weapon. I pulled Nancy free and when the creature came at me again, it was a simple, single stab through the heart and it slumped to the floor.

"They are still hunting her?" I shook my head. "They belong to?—"

"Richart."

I spun, holding the demon blade up. Roderick stood behind me, looking like he'd been on a bender for a full seven days and nights. He shook his head. "You have every right to kill me, but I'd plead that I might speak first."

I wiped the blade on the pants of the rat faced creature and then tucked Nancy back into the blade's sheath. "Bummer. I love a good vampire in the morning."

I slapped my hand over the blade. "Roderick. You betrayed her."

He held up both hands and shook his head. "I had no choice. Evangeline is too strong, I told you that. But those"—he pointed with one hand—"those belong to Richart. He's been trying to have Bree killed since he met her back in France."

"Why?"

"Because he does not want an army of vampires. He knows, as do I, that it will be of no benefit to anyone in the shadow world." Roderick motioned for me to follow him into the council chambers.

The magic on the place had been shattered, there was no more glamor stripper, no more amplification of the voices that would argue and fight over trivial things. Not things of import. I realized of course, that had been the goal of the Dark Council all along, to sow seeds of doubt, and stupidity amongst the outwardly ruling council.

"Tell me what you know about the witch who is here. Bramble. And what of Evangeline's plans. Anything you think that might help me find Bree."

Roderick lowered himself onto one of the least shattered chairs. "Of Evangeline, there is very little known. I believe she worked through my brother for all these years, and so I would have been able to tell you more had it been the case that he was the one planning. Only since he was killed"—he glanced at me, but I refused to give him even an ounce of pity for lopping his brother's head off—"has she been active. Before then, I did not know of her."

"That's terrible," Nancy muttered. I hated agreeing with the blade, but he was right. It was not good news to have nothing on Evangeline.

"What of Bramble then?"

"Only a little more. I am not sure where she stands, and her magic is powerful. She had a run in with Richart, not long after she acquired the wand she now carries. Perhaps twenty years ago. I only remember it because Richart was impressed by the amount of control she had for one so young. That and she was Celia's other granddaughter." Roderick shrugged.

"Was she a dark witch?"

"Gray," Roderick said. "And hard to keep track of. She, like Evangeline, disappeared for many, many years."

I wanted to pace, but I kept my body still. "Where might Evangeline have taken Bree? Can you find out?"

Roderick gave a slow nod. "I can try. I will reach out to my contacts. See if there has been any whisper of her. But…I do not want to give you false hope, Fae King. Evangeline is a spider in the darkness. She can remain hidden until she wishes you to see her."

I wanted to grab him by the throat and make him promise to find her, but that would do me no good. If he was under the compulsion still of Evangeline, I knew he would not be able to help. And if he wasn't…Roderick was one of very few vampires who had the best interest of the world in mind.

I had one other question. "The spell, the one that is at the center of all this. What do you know of it? You were there when it first happened, when the undead were pulled from their sleep and they walked this land."

Roderick closed his eyes, and I could have sworn his face went a faint shade of green. "Yes, that was a very bad time. I should have known…" he rubbed his hands over his face. "I have been trying to make up for that since it happened. I…" he froze and lifted his head. Then tipped his chin at the doorway.

Another soft scuffle. I could not scent air like Roderick, or a shifter, but I could feel magic against my skin. And someone was listening in, using magic.

I bolted for the doorway, was across the room and through the opening in a flash.

A cloaked figure let out a strangled squawk as I grabbed him by the throat…no, not him. Her.

"Do not kill me!" She shrieked. "Please!"

I stared down into the eyes of a witch who had flip flopped more than a fish caught on a line. "Missy."

"Peace!" She whispered.

I dragged her with me into the council room. "Tell me what you know of the spell. Now."

She held up both hands. "I know nothing?—"

"You should just kill her then," Roderick said. "She will report back to her master who is Louis or Clovis if you prefer, and he is controlled by Bramble."

I wasn't sure if he was serious, or if he was playing good cop, bad cop. "Maybe she will have something of use. Something to make her valuable."

Suddenly, it seemed as if her memory was jogged. "Yes, yes, I can tell you of the spell. What I know of it isn't much?—"

"Speak quickly," Roderick growled. I tightened my fingers around Missy's scrawny neck.

"I concur with him. Quickly."

Missy swallowed, her throat bobbing against my palm. "To understand, you must understand the nature of spell work."

I nodded at her to go on.

"Spell work is particular. There are ingredients. Words. And then intent. The power of three must be cast within a circle for the spell to be properly cast. I really think you should let me go to speak all this."

"I can feel you lie, so no, I won't be letting you go." I smiled at her, though I knew it did not reach my eyes. This witch had caused so much grief, so much pain, and much of it had been directed at Bree. My fingers twitched.

She swallowed again. "The spell was cast not as it was created to be cast, the first time."

Roderick laughed. "Why would that matter? It was destruction unleashed on Savannah, that is what my brother would have wanted! It was what he got."

Her eyes closed and she muttered something that sounded like mother clucker bloodsucker…but surely not. "Did you hear me at all, you fool? Ingredients. Words. Intent. You can have the same spell respond differently depending on who is casting it. How the words might be changed just a little. That is the power of magic, which you would not understand seeing as you are just out for blood!"

She was shrieking as she leaned toward Roderick, her wrinkled fists raised at him. I pulled her back.

"What are you saying?"

She rolled her eyes, and her lips turned into a perfect frown. "That particular spell…it is powerful—the ones created by Vesuvius all were and its why they were hidden away! The ingredients are correct. The words are correct. But…the intent! The intent of the witch casting the spell…that is the key."

I glanced at Roderick and Missy…she bit me. It hurt, yes, but more than that her teeth stuck into me along with a bolt of magic that gave me a shock that froze me for a moment. Worse, her dentures remained attached to me as she hurtled away, down the hall, cackling. I shook off the literal shock, and ran after her, flicking my hand in disgust.

"Damn. That was a sneaky witch move!" Nancy yelped. "Gross too, I gotta be real, better you than me."

Roderick slid to a stop next to me as we stared up at the stairs that led down into the council chambers. There was no sign of Missy. A hint of magic lay on the air. She'd had an escape spell of some sort ready.

"Damn." Roderick punched the wall, a few chunks of stone falling to the ground.

Indeed. That being said, it was something.

The vampire glanced at me. "Was she lying?"

I shook my head. "No. Everything she said was truth."

The question now was, how would the knowledge help me? I was about to find out.