magazines of ammo. Double swords hung at his hips. He looked pale and scarred and so very not ready for combat. “My queen,” he murmured. My lips tightened in frustration.
On the snow-covered lawn, the witches sat and arranged their focals. Evan said a wyrd and the circle he had made in the snow blazed once, a soft white light. At each witch the light sparked once, changed color, and a tendril of energy rose to the center, where it met the others. They twined about and sent up a sparkling, rainbow-colored braid that converged on the ward overhead. The ward that was shivering sound and light across the inn’s grounds.
Eli joined me and placed a comms system around my neck. I stuffed the earpieces into my upright ears and adjusted the mic for my snout. He handed me my Dyneema, Kevlar, and anti-spelled armored vest, which I Velcroed on. Over it went the shoulder/spine rig that held three weapons, dual shoulder nine-mils and the Benelli M4 in a spine sheath. The hip rig with one nine-mil and vamp-killers with fourteen-inch blades on each hip. When I was weaponed up, he placed the Glob in my hand and extended le breloque. I pocketed the Glob but hesitated at the crown. This was one of the things the Flayer of Mithrans was after. I didn’t know if I should taunt him with wearing it a second time. But I reached out and took the crown. Placed it on my head. It changed shape and tightened, securing itself to my head.
“Thank you,” I said to my partner and my second. Eli was fully kitted out in cold gear and weapons. “You are not going out of the ward to reconnoiter,” I said.
“Yes, Mama. I’ll be good, Mama.”
Even I caught the sarcasm, but I decided to ignore it. “What does Alex see?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all.”
Which was very bad. That meant the enemy had found all the security measures on the property and figured out how to avoid them, or they had mojo—magical or tech—that we didn’t have. I looked along the walls of the house to see Lincoln directing Thema and Kojo up onto the roof, each with long-distance rifles and tripods. He sent his other fangheads around the house into secure locations, spots I was sure he and Eli had chosen in advance. “The prisoners?” I called to the MOC.
“Secured and unconscious, Queenie. You see anything?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Mama!”
“Mamamamamama!!”
I whirled in time to see Lincoln Shaddock, Master of the City of Asheville and BBQ chef extraordinaire, catch both witch kids and swing them up in his arms. He carried the screaming children back inside and shut the door.
The gonging grew in sound, a painful cadence. I caught Big Evan’s eyes. Tapped my ear. He gave a truncated nod that was mostly just beard bumping on his chest like a half dozen red squirrels hanging on his jaw, flicking their tails. Evan changed out the Pan flute for a long, thick reed instrument and blew a note I could hear over the noise. The magic moved across the air, a heavy, cottony texture to it. The gonging sound decreased.
Into my earbud, Alex said, “I see two approaching combatants. They . . . Damn. They have an outclan witch priestess. She’s in robes like Sabina. And she’s glowing even on the camera feed. Like she’s leaking power.”
“Where?” Eli asked.
“Front door is clock heart facing twelve. She’s at twelve, about halfway down the hill. She’s under a hedge of thorns that looks like it’s made of blood, it’s so thick. The ringing attack on the ward seems to be starting from near the same place.”
His voice strained, Edmund said, “This outclan. White robes or black?”
“Black.”
“Aurelia Flamma Scintilla,” Ed breathed. “Not her given name. Not her surname. But her chosen name.”
In my earbud, Alex said, “Diving into the files for intel.”
“Copy,” I said into my mic. “Ed?”
“Yes, my queen,” he said, almost too softly to hear beneath the awful gonging attack on the ward.
“Tell me everything you know about Aurelia.”
“What I know is gossip gleaned while I was back on the continent,” Edmund said. “She grew up in a tiny village outside of Rome in the late 1800s. She eschewed magic as evil and dedicated herself to the church. She was a cloistered nun until her convent was destroyed one night by a young rogue. Three of her sisters died. She killed the vampire, embraced her magic, and has spent the years since destroying Mithrans.”