10. Marshall

Chapter 10

Marshall

M arshall ignored the spell that washed over him as he drove down the overgrown road leading to the Blaike Compound. It was a harmless but powerful suggestion that encouraged the recipient to find another, better-traveled road to get to the beach.

If the Blaike family hadn't insisted on having their home right next to the ocean, they wouldn't have needed such a powerful spell to protect their privacy. But they had power and money to burn, so they did what they liked.

The further in Marshall drove, the more his inner sight conflicted with the information his eyes were giving him. According to them, the road had given way to the forest, and he was now plowing his truck through a tree and heading straight for a large rock formation. His inner sight told him they were driving down a neatly maintained cobblestone road leading toward an imposing brass gate bracketed by rock walls on either side.

In the seat next to him, Adelle touched her index finger and thumb together making a circle then pulled them apart abruptly, like a popping bubble. Suddenly Marshall's inner sight and his eyes agreed with one another again.

"Thank you, Addy. That was giving me a headache."

Jack made a queasy noise of agreement from the back.

"Make sure to replace it once we're through the gate. There's no point in pissing off our hosts until it's necessary," Marshall felt the need to add.

"Of course," was Adelle's offended response.

"So," Marshall said, continuing their conversation earlier, "the only people who have a problem with the Blaikes are the Benighted. How is that any different from their usual grumbling against the Beloved?"

"You're spending too much time with the older Guard members, Marshall," Adelle said, rolling her eyes. "Their antiquated way of thinking is rubbing off on you. Just because they can't assimilate as easily into the Real as we can doesn't mean the Benighted have nothing to offer the Guard."

Marshall twisted his mouth in disgust, realizing that he'd been caught quoting the sentiments of the Council. "Ugh, it really sneaks up on a person, doesn't it?"

Adelle acknowledged his concession with a nod but continued to drive her point home. "Just because you haven't joined the council doesn't mean they won't use every chance they can get to groom you for the position of Praetor. You're going to have to come to a decision soon."

Marshall grunted noncommittally.

"But to return to your question, yes, these rumors come from the disadvantaged aspects of our society. That's why I haven't acted on them, considering how much of what comes from the Benighted is violence and lies. However, they are still people, Marshall, and sometimes they need our help. If these aren't just rumors, we'll need to act. From what I've heard, the Blaikes are ruthless in their dealing with the Benighted, and it's gotten to the point where most of them refuse to deal with anyone in the family."

"Whereas the Beloved can't stop singing their praises. Sounds like a case of sour grapes to me," Jack drawled.

"What I've failed to mention is that a significant enough portion of their contacts in the Benighted have gone missing recently." Her clipped words let Marshall know he needed to tread lightly here. If Adelle took up a cause, she'd tear through friend and foe to see justice served.

Marshall nodded slowly. "That's more serious. Why am I only hearing about it now?"

"Because each and every one of the missing people were all skeezy enough to have found their end in a dozen other ways," Adelle conceded, blowing a stray hair away from her nose grumpily. "I was planning on looking into it after we finished our original assignment, but that's all shot to hell now."

"Hold that thought." Marshall pulled the truck up to the gate and stopped. His windshield became translucent and an animated domino mask greeted them. "Welcome, Guardians. What business brings you to the Blaike house today?"

Marshall slipped into guardian-mode. "We are here for an audience with Matriarch Elanor."

The mask's delicate features took on a semblance of friendly sympathy. "It pains me to tell you this, but our beloved matriarch is away on a restorative holiday. She hasn't been feeling well as of late. Perhaps another clan member could help?"

"That will do. Let us speak to Stella."

"Oh dear." The expression in the mask's face became strained, if still pleasant. "I'm afraid Mistress Stella has had a bit of an altercation today and is in the infirmary. She isn't available either."

"I'm not afraid of the infirmary, are you, Adelle? Jack?"

Adelle shook her head. "Can't say that I am.

Jack leaned forward and poked his head between Marshall and Adelle. "Who doesn't love a trip to the infirmary? I can't remember the last time I got to see gauze and sterile pads. People covered in sores and blood—that's where the fun is!" He attempted to put an arm around Adelle's shoulders.

"Jack," Adelle said in a warning tone.

Without missing a beat, he aborted the motion, instead choosing to invade Marshall's personal space with a heavy elbow on his shoulder. "Why, just the other day I said to myself, ‘Self, a good jaunt down to the infirmary is just what the doctor ordered.'"

"Jack, no one likes you. You know that, right? Your mother paid us to pretend to be your friends," Adelle declared, brushing invisible wrinkles off the sleeve of the shoulder Jack had dared to touch.

"The infirmary is really only for family members." The gatekeeper ventured tentatively.

"Nonsense. Guardians are welcome everywhere in magical society. Now clear off before I unmake you." Adelle snapped her fingers, and the mask flinched in fear.

Marshall sighed. There was a reason he was in charge instead of one of his teammates. Unlike Jack and Adelle, he could be relied on to interact in Beloved high society without a handler. Neither one of them had the aptitude nor the desire for diplomacy.

Quivering, the mask stuttered out, "P-p-please follow the road to the main steps, and someone will greet you s-s-shortly." It dipped itself in an approximation of a bow and vanished, leaving the windshield transparent once more.

"I can't take you two anywhere." Sometimes Marshall felt more like a parent than a leader. Not for the first time, he wondered if his team did it on purpose to make him feel necessary.

"The way I see it, they are either stalling for time or are being rude. In any case, I'm not putting up with it." Adelle squared her shoulders as if readying herself for a fight.

"I'm just here to be eye candy." Jack added helpfully as he settled himself into the back seat once more.

Marshall pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "If the stories you told me are true, Addy, hurrying things along isn't a bad idea. But you can't storm through life threatening people when they've pissed you off. It's a bad idea to rub people's noses in the fact that guardians have so few restrictions. That's how revolutions start."

"Personally, I find it tiresome getting my head lopped off," Jack said with an air of boredom.

Adelle brought her fingers back together sharply, reengaging the camouflage spell. The back half of Marshall's truck now looked as though it had been buried by several tons of rock. "It's worked for me so far."

"That's exactly the sort of thing people say before they get their heads lopped off." Jack groused, shifting uneasily now that he was encased inside an intangible rock formation.

Ignoring them was really the only way Marshall had found to deal with them when they were in this mood, so he said, "Addy, when we get there, I want you to verify their numbers."

It would look less threatening to have Adelle do it—when she wasn't talking, she looked like a nice young woman. Maybe it had something to do with his size, but even if no one knew him by reputation, when Marshall did magic, people had a tendency to get nervous.

Adelle nodded in compliance and relaxed her shoulders minutely. Giving Adelle something to focus on usually helped her calm down.

"Jack, do your best to get lost as soon as you can. If they're hiding something, your job is to find it." Even with his massive size, there was no one sneakier than Jack. If he didn't want to be found, even Adelle couldn't track him down.

"You got it, boss."

The tree-lined road opened to reveal a towering stone mansion perched on the edge of a cliff. Once upon a time, Marshall might have found it impressive, but by the age of seven he had been regularly living out his wildest fantasies in the Dreamscape. The majesties of the Real paled in comparison to being able to ride a dragon through an exploding star.

Instead, he barely noticed the improbable topiaries blooming out of season and out of temperate zone. He pulled the truck to a stop at the circular drive and put on his guardian face—friendly with a heavy dose of impartial.

Marshall got out first, indicating to the nervous crowd gathered on the steps that he was the one in charge. Adelle and Jack exited at the same time and stayed a pace behind Marshall as the group closed around them. They were escorted inside the massive estate with pomp and circumstance mixed with equal parts hand-wringing. Marshall did his best to soothe the ruffled feathers of Emily, the woman sent to greet them.

"Of course you meant no offense, Emily. It's perfectly natural to want to protect your sick family members. If I were you, I would have given the gatekeeper the same orders." Marshall waved away the drink one of the trailing servants was trying to offer him.

Marshall could be friendly, but he wasn't going to be too friendly. If he didn't keep a certain distance from the people he investigated, they tended to try and extract promises of leniency from him, and that was something he refused to do. For all Marshall knew, her mistress was possessed by a demon, and he would need to kill her in front of the entire Blaike family.

Breaking promises was something Marshall was strictly against. Never again.

"I just wouldn't want you to think the Guard wasn't welcome here." Emily simpered. "As soon as I told Ms. Stella about the mishap at the gate, she insisted I bring you to her at once." Emily's hands waved emphatically as she spoke, nearly knocking the drink tray out of a servant's hands.

Marshall did his best to calm her down, but Emily peppered him with apologies the entire way to the infirmary. It could have been nothing more than an overeager servant trying to diffuse a social gaffe, or she could have been trying to distract the trio from something.

Marshall gave a pointed look at Jack.

"Excuse me, Emily, was it?" Jack put on his most charming smile. "Could you point me to the closest bathroom? It was a long car ride down here."

"Of course, of course." Emily waved one of the ubiquitous servants following behind them toward Jack and told her to show him the way.

Jack sauntered away, flirting wildly with the servants who trailed him. It would only be a matter of time before Jack had them all so turned around that none of them realized he no longer had an escort.

Marshall allowed himself a tiny smile at his friend's antics before he set up a link between their three minds. It was important when separating to stay connected, so they could share their findings with one another and weigh in with observations. It was especially helpful now, considering how agitated Adelle was. It was always good to give her room to vent privately before she said something out loud they would all regret later.

Their procession continued through the lavishly decorated mansion, and Emily continued with a litany of excuses and apologies punctuated with increasingly erratic and alarming hand motions. By the time they made it to the infirmary, Marshall was ready to put Emily to sleep himself just to keep from losing an eye.

Once they arrived, Marshall took a look around. He had been expecting a small room, but the infirmary took up an entire hall of the vast estate.

Entering the room, the first thing he saw was the dazzling array of colors bathing the room. The wall-to-wall windows were lined with an endless number of shelves, each filled with crystalline cases of every color imaginable. The overall effect was breathtaking even to Marshall's eyes, though he doubted aesthetics were the first or even third reason for their existence in the room.

In a witch's infirmary, crystal cases were a necessity. Many counter-curses and magical remedies had a long casting-time, so having such things already on hand was imperative. But for witch magic, once a spell was attached to an item, unless dreamcrafted, it became a charm that began to deteriorate immediately. Witches compensated for this by placing pre-spelled items in crystal cases. The crystal refracted the magic and kept it fresh. Each spell-type resonated differently, so a different crystal was necessary for each kind of magic. If the wrong spell went into the wrong case, the effects could be catastrophic.

Emily led them to a bed occupied by the woman from the cemetery scene. Marshall had only met Stella Blaike once, but it had been memorable enough.

As the son of a praetor, Marshall had been introduced to all the powerful family members of the Other and was familiar with the drama and politics such meetings incurred. When he'd met Stella several years ago, she had made him feel like an embarrassed teenager even though he was nearly a century her senior.

From the moment they had been introduced, Stella couldn't seem to keep her hands to herself. Their society frowned on casual touching among all but the closest of companions, but Stella had kept touching Marshall's hair, adjusting his clothing, or grabbing his hand and attempting to drag him somewhere to meet someone.

Marshall had been forced to shield as hard as he could just to keep from spilling into her mind. At the time he had thought it was because she was a massive flirt, since it wasn't unusual for him to receive excessive attention from social climbers.

Marshall had been known to get multiple propositions during such an event, ranging anywhere from mostly innocent to wildly outlandish. When he was a teen it had turned his head, but his father and Adelle managed to keep him from becoming a preening idiot with well-aimed lessons in humility.

So instead of being a pompous asshole, Marshall was well-known for being reserved. If Stella knew of his reputation, it was possible she had been doing it to force him to shield so he wouldn't notice something she wanted to keep hidden.

The woman in the bed before him looked more disheveled, but no less beautiful, than when he had last seen her. The fight had clearly taken a lot out of Stella—her blood-orange magic was little more than a spark inside her chest. Her head was covered by a spelled bandage, which Marshall could sense was healing and regrowing hair—a tricky combination. The healer for the Blaike family had to be a high-level charm-crafter, or the bandage would have simply disintegrated from holding such potent magic.

He could also see other bandages peeking out from the plush, red-velvet robe Stella had draped around her body. Damaged as she was, Stella still managed to look royal.

:There is no sign of demon taint on Stella,: Marshall informed Jack through the link. Adelle could hear him too, but she could see it clearly for herself.

It took no effort for a decent dreamwalker to see demon taint. Their wrongness was so clear you'd have to be incredibly distracted to miss even a trace amount of it. It had been overkill to send Jack after the officers Marshall had seen on the stairwell, but he liked to be thorough in such cases.

"Marshall, darling. So good to see you. I must apologize for not coming to greet you at the door. I must look dreadful." Stella scrunched her immaculately made-up face into a pout.

Adelle snorted loudly behind him.

Ignoring his sister, he said, "That isn't possible, Stella." He threw a warning poke with his mind at Adelle. "I appreciate you meeting with us under the circumstances. With your cooperation, we can clear this up quickly, and you can get back to your rest."

Stella's soft brown eyes looked up at him, the picture of innocence. "Clear what up, Marshall?" She patted a spot on the bed beside him, her posture a clear invitation. "Sit down, dear, you're making my neck hurt looking all the way up there. We don't really need Big Sis here, do we?"

Not wanting to become her personal teddy bear again, Marshall lowered himself into the chair next to her bed instead. "We know what happened in the cemetery, Stella, and we came here to hear your side of the story."

Behind him, Adelle huffed in irritation. :You could have strung it out a bit more than that, brother. She might have revealed something if we let her pretend long enough.:

:If I wait too long, she'll begin planning our wedding.: Marshall explained, and then gently, but firmly, pushed his sister to the back of his mind.

"That was a family matter." Stella's eyes tightened slightly at the edges, but she kept her voice light. "Hardly something worth troubling the guardians over, especially Team Fire. I'm sure you all have something more important to do than to get involved in a domestic dispute."

"When we have to clean up after your domestic dispute, it becomes our problem," Adelle spat, and then began stalking back and forth in front of the bed like a tigress. "Did you even check to see how many people you killed this morning?"

Stella looked wounded. "Of course I did! My representative is with the victims and their families right now making sure their every need is attended to. We've spared no expense to see to their comfort, poor things. It was a terrible tragedy."

"Yes, it was. So why did it happen? Why did your family attack that boy? Who is he?"

"I guess you've found us out, so there is no point in trying to hide it anymore."

:Wait for it…: Adelle's sarcasm was ill-concealed.

Stella sighed and smiled sadly. "Sterling isn't our matriarch's only child, as we'd led everyone to believe. She also had another son, but we don't talk about him. It hurts too much." Stella allowed herself a delicate sniff before continuing. "Poor little Cymbeline, my sunshine boy. He was the prize of the family when he was a little boy, and I'm afraid we spoiled him terribly.

"He was such a charming child and so very beautiful. When he came into his magic, it was a blow to the whole family. It was wild and completely uncontrollable, and I'm sad to say it drove him mad, but we loved him. So, instead of sending him away or having him destroyed, we kept him safe here on the compound."

Marshall was stunned into silence. Uncontrollable magic was rare and almost unheard of among the Other. In his one hundred and thirty-seven years of life, he'd heard of only one instance of a child being born with an uncontrollable gift. The poor creature hadn't lasted long enough to be put down or locked away. Instead, the magic burned him until he was consumed.

Marshall understood now why he'd never heard of the boy. In magical society, the custom was to keep children close to the clan until their magic presented itself. If Cymbeline had been gifted with uncontrollable magic, his family had the option of taking responsibility for the matter.

Marshall didn't like the custom, but it was legal, if archaic.

Adelle's fury was burning at the edges of his mind, and Marshall knew he'd have to talk fast before she let it free to find its target.

He wasn't worried as much about Adelle as he was about himself right then. The problem was going to be not letting his own temper get the better of him either.

The image of a different child, scared and helpless, flitted through his mind. For a brief moment, his vision edged with red. He leaned on his training and searched for a focal point to bring him into the present. He rubbed his hand against the side of his pants to feel the rough material against his skin to remind him where and when he was, but sad blue eyes kept bringing him into the past.

Marshall's power, blue and brilliant, began to build inside him, looking for an outlet to focus its attention.

Right now, his power was so close to the surface that if he thought about an action or desire, it would act on it. If he didn't get control soon this was going to go badly. Possibly worse than it had with Callum, and the Blaike family wasn't likely to let a lapse of control go unanswered.

:I'm here, man. What do you need?: Jack's star-flecked rainbow essence wrapped around Marshall, giving him the stability he needed to regain control.

His power sank back down grudgingly, willing to go back to sleep for the time being. :That was enough, thank you.: Now he was back in guardian mode and could make rational decisions again.

Unaware of how close she'd come to destruction, Stella continued her story. "Everything was fine for many years. We kept him from hurting anyone and provided him with every comfort imaginable. I assure you we did our duty to the Guard. No rules were broken." Her last words came out in a rush.

:It sounds like she's more worried about what we think about them keeping the boy alive, than what we think about them locking him up.: Adelle's disgust was unmistakable.

:Careful, Addy,: Jack admonished, like he was worried Marshal would go nuclear if Adelle didn't tread carefully.

His warning was unnecessary. With Jack's calming influence, Marshall was firmly in control again and determined to see what could be done to fix this mess.

"So what happened?" Marshall's voice was casual. If Stella thought he was on her side, he'd get further.

"The ungrateful brat just vanished on us! There was no warning, no reason as far as we could tell. One day his servant told us he wasn't in his room anymore. Everyone on the estate has been on high alert for over a month. We've done everything we can to get him back, but you can see"—she patted her bandaged head gingerly—"he's completely out of control. The last thing we wanted was to inconvenience the Guard, and we tried to fix this without you, but now that you are here, I have to admit we really could use your help."

If Stella was hiding something, it was a smart ploy to act like their help was welcome rather than a hindrance. Guard law stated that no guardian could be denied entry to a clan's estate, and all possible aid must be rendered. If any guardian felt like they were being blocked in carrying out their duty, they had free license to remove the obstacle in any manner they saw fit.

Emily, who had been fluttering behind them awkwardly, added, "Not that we feel like you should clean up our messes. I'm sure you have far more important things to do than this."

"Go drink some tea, Emily," Stella said firmly. "Of course we respect your time. No one here can question that, but this should be a simple matter for your team. Can you cut him off from the Source right here? Anything you need for the task is at your disposal." Her brilliant smile was cold as ice.

Adelle's fury burned at Marshall's back with an intensity that distracted him from his own.

Marshall held out a hand to forestall his sister and said coldly, "That isn't how we do things."

Cutting an uncontained Other off from the Source was a death sentence. If the boy couldn't control his power, it would turn on him as soon as it lost its connection to the Source and burn him to ash in seconds.

:If we had any doubt about this family before, here's clear proof that something around here is rotten.: Jack's mental voice was uncharacteristically grave.

"You would get no trouble from it on our end. You have my word on that. As Emily said, you have more important things to do, and dealing with complaints is the last thing you need."

"What about Cymbeline's companion? What would you have us do with him?" Adelle demanded.

Stella's face went a shade whiter than usual, but she recovered herself quickly. "He's just a norm caught in the crossfire. We can charm his memory so you won't have to trouble yourselves with him."

:She was hoping we didn't know about the soldier.: Jack's voice was thoughtful. :What's the plan, boss?:

:Have you found anything useful?: Marshall wanted as much information as he could get before acting. With the power he wielded—both politically and magically—he had to make sure he was doing the right thing before acting.

:I found the room they were keeping the boy in. It was nice, but he was kept away from everyone. With the amount of magic the place had wrapped around it, you could contain a magical nuke in there. He must have been packing something big.:

:If he was completely out of control, we would have been brought in on this long before now. I don't think Stella is being honest with us. Let's see what she's hiding.:

Marshall allowed his thoughts to drift away. He slowed his breath, and then he looked at Stella using the innate talent every dreamwalker had—the ability to sense the raw creative power of the universe. Without trying, he could pick up superficial bits and pieces of the world around him, but if he wanted to know more, he had to dig deeper.

Marshall saw nothing. He should have seen something on Stella. Ambient magic collected around everyone, and even norms had trace amounts of it clinging to them. A magic user should be covered with it. Stella would have had to scour herself down to the core minutes before their arrival to remove all of it. And since ambient magic was completely benign, the only reason for anyone to clean themselves so completely would be if they had something to hide.

Also, a complete magical cleanse was a better explanation for why her magic was so low—from the spells he'd seen her throw, Stella was too powerful for her magic to be wiped out this long after the fight.

:She's been wiped clean. Jack, meet me out front. I'm ordering a full turnout, right now.:

:Copy that.:

Marshall stood up and took a step back from Stella's bed. "Cymbeline is now under the jurisdiction of Fire. Stella, you are to order your family to stop looking for him immediately."

Stella twisted her lips into a pretty pout. "I think that's a bit much, Marshall. You'll need us to help find him."

Marshall ignored her and turned to Emily. "I want a full turnout of your family outside immediately."

Emily went so pale he thought she might faint.

Stella was silent and calculating for a moment, then nodded her acquiescence to Marshall, and said to Emily, "Do it."

:She was prepared for that,: Adelle said. :What do you bet she isn't the only one wiped clean?:

Stella turned her attention to Marshall and said, "You won't have our full family, Guardian. Most of us are with my sister on holiday or out hunting for my nephew."

"Convenient," hissed Adelle, no longer keeping her thoughts to herself.

"How many are here?" Marshall asked.

"Right now, our compound only has twenty-two people in it."

"You had that number very fast, Stella," said Adelle.

"When I was put in charge, I made sure to ask how many people were under my care."

"I find it interesting that your sister went on vacation and left her newly injured sister in charge."

"Elanor has been ill for some time now and couldn't put the trip off any longer," Stella said stiffly. "She knows that, even injured, I am more than capable of protecting my family." Her polished words were laced with a threat.

Before Adelle could rise to the challenge Stella presented, Marshall said, "Stella, your family isn't under threat unless they have been doing something illegal. Your aura was scrubbed bare moments before we got here. That alone is enough to have your entire family scanned."

"That?" Stella laughed, a brittle bark that grated on his ears. "Of course I was scrubbed bare. I was nearly killed by my psychotic nephew using twisted magic no one understands! The gods only know what it did to me. If you look at Sterling and Helen, you'll see the same thing." She pointed at the far end of the room toward two curtain-covered beds. "Only don't expect Helen to talk to you, she's very single-minded right now. All she wants is another crack at her cousin, and if you aren't interested in helping her, well… teenagers, right?"

Adelle drew his eyebrows together and looked at the beds thoughtfully. "Marshall?"

"Check them and the nurse. If they are clean, meet me and Jack outside." He began to walk away and stopped, telling Stella, "You can come too, if you're up to it."

"Thank you so much for allowing me to go somewhere in my own home," Stella snapped and began to struggle out of bed.

Marshall offered his arm, but she shook it off.

"I meant what I said. If you don't have our help, anything could happen. That boy is a disaster." Stella tried to get ahead of Marshall as he left the room, but she cradled her arm as she walked and moved slower than a woman twice her age.

Marshall easily made it out into the hallway first and allowed himself to give Stella a sardonic smile.

Behind him, Adelle shouted after Stella from the doorway, "Didn't you hear? We're Fire, we thrive on disaster." Her voice was lighter and more playful now that she knew Marshall wasn't going to leave the boy to the Blaikes.

:When did you get so attached to the boy, Addy?: Marshall's mental voice was reproving. Guardians didn't get attached during a mission.

:Somewhere between the Blaikes dropping that building on him and him destroying the cemetery with untested magic just to save his friend,: came her haughty reply.

:You never let on.:

:I didn't want to influence you. Your job is to be the evenhanded one. Mine is to be the angry thing you set after people.:

:And what's mine?: Jack asked.

:To be a pain in the ass,: Marshall and Adelle said at the same time.

:You two spend too much time together.:

"Just to be clear, this is a giant waste of everyone's time." Stella's breath was ragged as she attempted to keep up with Marshall's long strides. "You could slow down, you know."

Marshall narrowed his eyes. "Last I heard, your compound hosted nearly a hundred people, and you claim to only have a fraction of that number available for a turnout."

"I've already explained where they are?—"

"Not to mention you personally are suspected of being in a battle tainted with demon energy, and your aura is cleaner than the day you were born."

"I've explained that too! I'm going to have a word with the Guard council about this…" Stella gasped for breath. "Just see if I don't!" she yelled at his back, panting heavily as she tried to keep up.

As they reached the massive doors leading outside, Marshall opened one and waited for Stella, allowing her to precede him. "Acting Praetor Constance could be here with the entire council, and I would still do a turnout for just one of your excuses. Your family is known for being ruthless in the war against the Demon Realm. Stella, you should be the first person insisting this be done. So why aren't you?"

Stella's large, round eyes shimmered with injured innocence. "I don't like being threatened in my own home. I know there aren't any nightmares or demons camping inside my people—I'm not a complete novice. But what do you care about my word? It means nothing to you. I mean nothing to you."

"Well, with a looker like me around, you wouldn't expect him to notice anyone else, would you?" Jack came from out of nowhere and bounded to the top of the steps, slinging an arm around Marshall's neck when he reached him.

Marshall smiled up at his teammate.

Jack never cared much about what others thought of him—he always said exactly what he was thinking, and he knew how uncomfortable Stella had made Marshall during their last meeting. There was little chance of him passing up a chance for payback. Not with how protective Jack was of him.

"Stella, I believe you've already met Jack."

She stared at Jack's arm on Marshall and sneered. "I've always thought it was a pity our future praetor was saddled with someone so beneath him. Tell me, Jack, was the plan to ride his coattails to a better life, or were you just planning on dragging him down into the dirt with you and the rest of your kind?"

Jack put the back of his hand to his forehead and sighed. "My kind? I had no idea you felt that way about brunettes." For all his playfulness, his eyes had a dangerous glint.

"Why you allow this Unregistered to play at being a guardian, I will never understand." Stella said the word Unregistered like dirt she wanted to spit out of her mouth.

"Not everyone can trace their family back to the Great Flood like you can, Stella." Jack said, gripping the back of Marshall's neck. When his thumb traced the line of Marshall's throat, he knew Jack was deeply agitated. He only used Marshall like a fidget toy when he was truly pissed off.

"How about just one generation, then? No one even knows who your parents are, you abnormality. How do we know you didn't just sneak out of the Dreamscape one day?"

"A former praetor vouched for him. That's good enough for me," Marshall said pointedly. Jack wasn't the only one who was protective of his friends.

Even Stella wasn't fool enough to ignore the steel in Marshall's voice, so she changed tactics like the well-seasoned politician she was. "Of course, I respect all your father's decisions, Guardian. Even the ones I don't understand." She glared at Jack, who blew her a kiss in response.

Marshall looked down the steps at the crowd of people shifting nervously before him. "Is this everyone?"

She squinted at her people and nodded. "This is everyone on the compound at the moment."

:Addy?: Marshall could feel his sister heading in his direction, but he didn't want to wait for her report.

:Other than the people I checked in the infirmary, everyone on the estate is now outside with you. My people were all clear, by the way. Sterling and Helen were as clean as Stella—they had to have been scrubbed right before we arrived.: Adelle's tone was grim. :I'm willing to bet time in the 'Scape that they are hiding something.:

:Right there with you. Let me see how far this goes.: Marshall slowed his breathing and concentrated on the cool air touching his skin. He felt irritation from the situation sitting inside his chest and concentrated on where its edges were, accepted that the feeling was there, and observed it until it faded gently away.

Now that Marshall was centered and free from the control of his emotions, he could access his magic safely. He decided to go as deeply as possible to see if he could gain any more clues from the Blaike family.

He was able to discern right away that none of them had demon taint nor had any of them been cleaned. They were all as bland and unassuming as beige paint. If he'd been asked to paint a picture to represent a group of unremarkable witches, the group in front of him was what he would have painted.

The only unusual thing he noticed was that their magics were all shades of green, purple, and blue—traditionally protective, but very passive forms of magic—his own blue essence was the only magic he knew of that didn't fit the tradition. Other than Stella—whose vivid, blood-orange magic was already beginning to bleed back into her aura—there were no witches here with offensive magic.

Watching him intently, Stella pounced on him as soon as he broke from the trance. "Have you seen enough, then? Unless you're planning on arresting us all, I'd like to dismiss my people to go back to their jobs."

Several members cringed at the words arresting us all , and Emily made an animal-like sound of distress in her throat.

"Lady…" Emily croaked and plucked at Stella's arm.

Stella shook her off and stood as tall as she could manage. "There's no point beating around the bush. Either we're free to go about our business, or we aren't. I want to know so I can begin planning the rest of my day." Her mouth was a hard line, and she crossed her arms over her chest. And though the gesture must have agitated her injured arm, she showed no sign of it on her face.

Marshall looked down at her. "You know I can't detain you—as I see it your family has broken no laws."

"Marshall—" Adelle cried in anger.

He cut her off with a firm mental poke.

"While I and my team are off searching for your lost family member, you will send the rest of your family to the Boston chapter house within the next twenty-four hours to complete the turnout, or they will be considered fugitives."

Stella growled in outrage.

Marshall raised his voice, "Including your matriarch. Unless she is about to die, she will be there."

"Is that all, Guardian?" The title was a curse on her lips.

Marshal was about to turn to leave but paused.

Stella's arrogant entitlement couldn't be allowed to stand. Any opposition to the Guard had to be swiftly punished. If the governing body of the Other was perceived as weak, the entire world would fall into chaos in the ensuing power struggle.

The time for diplomacy was over. In his opinion, the entire Blaike family needed a reminder of why they should respect the Guard.

He dropped back into a mild trance and gathered the lights representing the souls of the assembled Blaikes in his mental hand and squeezed. Every member of the family went still as death, including Stella. He felt her light batter against him, and he clutched her soul even tighter.

Right now Marshall could do anything to them: force them to break into song, rewrite their personalities, even tell them to die. Only the strict moral code of the dreamwalkers kept the urge to do so from taking over and turning his desires into reality.

Respect for life and free will had been drummed into every potential dreamwalker from birth. Between that and the Guard's core tenant to protect the balance, Marshall rarely got to use more than a fraction of the abilities at his fingertips. But today it was his job to scare the living hell out of these people in the name of protecting the balance.

As a child he thought it would be fun to play with other people like puppets. He used to imagine forcing his babysitter to make him cake or buy him toys. And oh, how he used to rail against the watchful spells his father had cast to keep him in line—any indication of Marshall using his magic unsupervised, and his dad would shut his mind down.

Due to his father's care, looking at the blank faces in front of him now and the grim expressions of his partners, Marshall knew playing with other people's souls wasn't fun.

It was a heavy burden.

"While you have broken no laws set by the Guard, I consider the treatment of your nephew abhorrent. If anyone in your family gets in my way during this investigation, I will cut them off from the Source." Marshall tightened his hold on the family for emphasis before releasing them.

Nearly everyone collapsed to the ground, gasping and shivering as they all regained control of their bodies. Emily lay draped over a nearby concrete urn. She struggled to rise and kept flopping back down to crush the pansies planted in it. They must have been enchanted because they sprang up unscathed each time Emily managed to haul herself off them.

Only Stella remained standing. The moment Marshall let go she went on the offensive. "You—you can't do that!"

"I'm a guardian on a mission," he said. "You'd best to remember that."

With a gesture to Jack and Adelle, he left Stella standing there with her quivering servant and her recovering family. Even without a trance, Marshall could see Stella's blood-orange magic flaring around her wildly as she struggled to contain herself.

Marshall left without another word, trusting his team to follow him without a command.

As they drove away, Jack managed to stay silent in the truck for thirty seconds before he asked, "Abhorrent? You have a secret word-a-day calendar hidden somewhere in your bag, don't you?"

Marshall gave him a wry smile through the rearview mirror. "It's what people expect, okay? People don't respect a guy who says things like, ‘You are in so much trouble, brah.' Or high-fives his teammates."

Marshall smoothed a hand over his hair and glanced back toward the house. Most of the Blaikes were still on the ground as the truck rolled back up the long driveway.

"I don't know," Jack drawled. "Remember the time I high-fived that nightmare in the face? He looked mighty respectful as I was unmaking him."

Marshall laughed. Fuck, he loved his best friend so much it hurt sometimes. But instead of saying it out loud, he said, "As always, Jack, you are the exception."