Misfits, Gemstones, and Other Shattered Magic (Dowser 8) Read online

  “I don’t think the Convocation would come after you for it,” I said wryly.

  “Well, I wouldn’t be able to cast anyway. I’d need a witch. Maybe Wisteria?”

  Kandy eyed her. “Would Kett want us asking the reconstructionist to fly into Vancouver? With him away?”

  Jasmine set her jaw, then spoke begrudgingly. “Scarlett will do.”

  “Not Gran?” I asked.

  Jasmine looked aghast. “I’m not asking the head of the Convocation to mess around with this sort of stuff. What if it doesn’t work? Plus, um, I haven’t actually been face to face with her, since … you know.”

  Right. Jasmine meant since she — a former tech witch — had been remade as a vampire. I hadn’t realized she’d managed to avoid Gran all this time. But then, Kett managed to do so well enough.

  I indicated the spot of what I hoped was dried elf blood on my fingertip. “I assume this isn’t enough of a sample?”

  Jasmine shook her head.

  “Okay, then. We’ll have to deal with that later. But first, I need a change of clothing …”

  I crossed to and flicked on the light in my office. An older green hoodie was hanging on one of the hooks behind the door, kept around for the exceedingly rare occasions when I got chilly while baking or had to step out into the alley during a snowstorm.

  Jasmine appeared beside the desk, opening a few drawers until she found and liberated a half-dozen safety pins I hadn’t even known were there. The golden-haired vampire then tugged off her suede jacket and began meticulously reattaching the arm with the pins.

  “Planning on starting a new fashion trend?” I asked, swapping my sweater for the hoodie — and attempting to not lose the dot of elf blood in the process.

  Jasmine grinned without responding. She followed me out of the office with her head still bowed over her task, managing to not trip over her own feet.

  Seriously, that was skill. I could barely eat and walk at the same time.

  I stepped back into the kitchen. Kandy was perched on the counter beside the oven — the only counter that appeared to have survived the tussle with Audrey unscathed. My BFF jumped down, stuffing the last pastry from a container into her mouth. She placed the empty Tupperware in the industrial dishwasher, then brushed her hands together with great satisfaction.

  Damn it. I wouldn’t have minded another Florentine myself.

  Steadfastly ignoring the trashed state of the kitchen, I crossed to the exterior door, opening it and stepping through the wards. “Let’s see if we can turn the tables on the elf. Assuming she’s stupid enough to leave us a drop of her blood.”

  Kandy laughed snarkily.

  “How?” Jasmine asked, following us out into the alley while tugging on her hastily repaired jacket. Somehow, she’d completely hidden the safety pins from sight. Skilled in tech and tailoring. Nice.

  “Dowsing, baby girl,” Kandy said. “That’s what Jade does, after all. Want to go hunting with us?”

  Red rolled across Jasmine’s eyes, and she grinned wickedly. “I sure do.”

  Lovely. “Though let’s keep the biting to a minimum, eh?”

  Kandy laughed quietly, then whispered to Jasmine behind my back, “She always says that.”

  Well, this was sure to go delightfully.

  7

  Evening had taken hold of the city, even though it was just after 5:00 p.m. as I stepped out into the alley. I crossed through the wards that I was assuming had cut the hypothetical telepathic elf off from tapping into the magic embedded in the drop of solidified blood. Or, more accurately, the magic I hoped was embedded in the blood. Otherwise, I had no leads — and no easy explanation for Jasmine’s behavior.

  I had a sinking feeling that Audrey wasn’t going to let the golden-haired vampire’s unprovoked attack go. Meaning that without evidence pointing directly at the elves, the relationship between the pack and the Conclave was going to get even tenser. How this political crap had even become my concern, I didn’t know. But now it was all on me to keep everyone friendly, by trying to track a being that was supposedly mythical.

  Holding the elven blood magic aloft on the tip of my finger, I paused a couple of steps from the exterior bakery door, gazing up at the dark, cloudy sky. It wasn’t raining, but if not for the apartment blocking my view, it was a sure bet that the craggy tips of the North Shore Mountains would have been completely obscured. I focused my dowser senses on the elf blood magic that I hoped I was holding. I’d feel pretty damn stupid if it did turn out to be a plastic bumper.

  I could taste Kandy’s bittersweet chocolate and Jasmine’s sugary-sweet peppermint magic behind me, but nothing from the elf blood. And as the moment stretched, I found myself inwardly and sarcastically applauding my supreme arrogance. Why had I even suggested that I could track the elves through a single drop of their blood? Assuming that was actually what I was holding in the first place.

  “What if the elf activates whatever magic she used on me?” Jasmine whispered. “Won’t it affect the dowser?”

  Kandy snorted condescendingly. “Watch and wait, baby girl.”

  Sounding a little put out, Jasmine said, “I imagine it was tailored to me specifically, anyway.”

  “Which, again, makes me wonder how they got near enough,” I said. “Not only to drop the spell on you earlier today, but to take the time to watch you. To figure out your obsession with your phone and the natural enmity that vampires and werewolves have. That would have taken … weeks, maybe.”

  “Thinning the herd,” Kandy murmured. She was scanning the alley and the rooftops across from us.

  “I am not a cow, werewolf,” Jasmine snarled, falling into the antagonistic-species byplay without thought.

  Which maybe answered at least one of my questions — though, again, only if the elves were able to get close to us without any of us noticing, and for long periods of time.

  I sighed. “Kandy means that it’s possible that the elf, or elves, watched the rest of us go to the shower, then homed in on you as the easiest to access. Similar to how the illusionist attempted to draw me away from the bakery yesterday when everyone else was skiing.” And if the elves deemed studying our behavior worth their time … well, that said something interesting about the interlopers. That they were patient and manipulative.

  And completely different than I’d assumed when I crossed blades with the forthright warrior elf in the park.

  So how much of my exchange with him had been contrived to distract me? Taking him down had been easy. But had it been too easy? Had he actually sacrificed himself?

  No.

  The elf had wounded Kandy and Warner seriously enough that he’d put some effort behind it. There would have been no reason to randomly decide to pull his punches with me, who he’d deemed the weakest member of the group.

  But he had placed himself deliberately in our paths. Even his attack on Burgundy had felt contrived — something that would force us to react, though perhaps elves just weren’t particularly chatty to begin with. So were the remaining elves — with the illusions and the telepathic manipulation — currently testing us … or distracting us? And if so, to what end?

  Magic shifted across the tip of my finger. Just a spark — as if the elf who’d cast that magic had just pinged the connection. Similar to how I could reach out for my alchemy, whether in my wards, in Kandy’s cuffs, or any of my own creations.

  “Got you,” I murmured. Then I took off at a light jog, cutting onto Vine Street, then down the hill toward Kits Beach.

  Kandy whooped quietly, falling into place behind me without another word. Jasmine was at her side.

  The slightly chilly breeze reminded me that it wasn’t really the right weather to be jogging down to the beach. Also, speaking of being stupid, I was still wearing my pretty boots. I should have changed them before we left the bakery. If it came to an all-out brawl, I was going to have to remember to take them off, because I certainly wasn’t ruining them over elves playing games.

&n
bsp; Though clearly, what I’d taken to be games so far — in Whistler and in the snowstorm — could have had malicious objectives that we’d all just been too savvy to fall for. This wasn’t the first time I’d been hunted — and the previous times hadn’t turned out well for the hunters.

  But I knew the odds dictated that someone was eventually going to be faster, stronger, and smarter than me. And it went without saying that I had more to lose now. Or was that more to protect?

  I lost touch with the elf magic, pausing at the corner of West Second Avenue. Kandy continued across the residential street, then turned right, intent on looping the block. Jasmine stayed at my side. We were mostly surrounded by older three- and four-storey apartment buildings. A single red house with cream dentil moldings sat on the corner, with its tiny cream picket fence guarding dormant rose bushes. It was one of the rare remaining houses in Kitsilano, though of course, it had been converted into suites years before.

  “Can you tell how close they … the elf … is?” Jasmine spoke quietly, as if worried she’d distract me.

  I shook my head, waiting … waiting for someone to try to use the magic stored in the blood drop. The elves were playing games with powerful Adepts — first me, then the wolves, and now Jasmine. As if they’d spent the last three months watching us, and were now testing us, one by one. With the illusionist, I’d inadvertently proved that I could tear through elf magic. And now with Jasmine, even with the change in the elves’ tactics, I had thwarted their attempt. Though, to be fair, I hadn’t figured out what was up with the golden-haired vampire terribly quickly.

  But what was it they were attempting? Internal discord?

  “Why do I suddenly feel like a hamster?” I murmured.

  “How so?” Jasmine asked. “You aren’t in a cage. You aren’t even prey. Far from it.”

  I nodded, though I’d been referring specifically to the idea of endlessly running on an exercise wheel that went nowhere.

  Kandy appeared on the sidewalk to our right, padding silently through the pools of light that formed underneath the regularly spaced street lamps. She slunk in and out of deep shadow, as predatory as if she were wearing her wolf form. Her eyes were blazing green, but she shook her head at my questioning look. So she’d scented nothing.

  “Maybe it’s time to update Kett and Warner?” I asked. I wanted to keep my attention on the hunt — but I also remembered my promise.

  “Already ahead of you,” Kandy said.

  “Where the hell are they, anyway?”

  “Do you really want to know?” Kandy wagged her eyebrows.

  I laughed quietly. “Are they heading back?”

  “You think we need their help badly enough to interrupt their fun?”

  I grimaced ruefully, but I shook my head. The telepathic elf was a concern, for sure, but not enough of one to call in reinforcements. Not yet, anyway. I just wanted Warner back in town for purely selfish reasons.

  The magic in the elf blood shifted, tugging me north again. From what I could tell, that was the same orientation as before — implying that the elf was stationary. So far.

  “So …” I said. “They’ve laid a trap?”

  Kandy flashed me a toothy grin. “Let’s hope.”

  Jasmine glanced between us. “You two are a little crazy, you know.”

  Kandy shrugged. “You’ll get it, baby girl. When you’re all grown up and never meet your match.”

  Jasmine twisted her lips wryly, tugging her phone out of her jacket pocket. “I’ve already met him.”

  Kandy laughed huskily, shaking her head. “The nearly immortal are more vulnerable than us three, darling. They’ve forgotten they can die. And it’s the possibility of death that keeps us sharp.” Kandy tapped her temple.

  Emulating her master, Jasmine raised one eyebrow at the green-haired werewolf, texting without looking at her screen. “Thanks for the life lesson, wolf.”

  Kandy snapped her teeth. “You can owe it to me, vampire.”

  I laughed. “Shall we continue?”

  Kandy swept her hand forward, indicating that I should lead the way. I jogged across the street, covering two more blocks and reaching Cornwall before the magic tugged me north again. But also a little to the left. Toward Kits Pool.

  And also toward Gran’s house.

  That couldn’t be good.

  Kandy, Jasmine, and I had just passed the administration buildings that backed Kits Pool when the magic in the dot of blood ebbed again.

  I slowed, then paused, taking in the well-lit and busy neighborhood against the darkness of the night.

  Vehicles streamed steadily by us on Cornwall — we’d opted for the roadside path, not the seawall — likely filled with commuters heading home from work. The closer we came to Gran’s house, the more expensive the vehicles and homes became. Single strings of Christmas lights along the occasional apartment balcony or roofline became showy displays, replete with white wire deer and light-twined trees so tall that they would have taken a cherry picker to decorate.

  “Signal died again?” Kandy asked.

  Nodding, I stepped off the paved path, giving way to the joggers and bikers trying to get some exercise on a nonrainy day.

  A misplaced shadow shifted along the eaves of the recreation building that blocked our view of the pool and the seawall beyond — Freddie, the shadow leech, showing itself but not approaching. Though I hadn’t seen the leech since before I’d gone to Whistler, I’d left a set of magically charged coins for Freddie’s consumption on my bedroom’s Juliet balcony that morning, swapping them for the three pieces of sea glass currently in the pocket of my hoodie. I had salvaged the sea glass from my ruined sweater, carrying them with me everywhere infused them with my magic.

  Since the leech had taken part in the incident with the elf in the park — and, specifically, the way Freddie showed that it understood the elf was an enemy by trying to protect Burgundy — I’d gotten less worried about the risk of it breaking my ‘no siphoning magic from Adepts’ rule. I also suspected that it had been getting fed by another hand over the previous few months — Mory’s hand, to be specific. I couldn’t prove it, though, and as long as the shadow leech remained friendly, it seemed overly controlling to intervene. Mory felt like I hovered too much already.

  “Hey, Freddie,” I whispered to the creeping shadow.

  Kandy flinched, instinctively shoving herself between the leech — which she couldn’t actually see — and Jasmine.

  “What?” Jasmine hissed, looking around frantically for an attack she couldn’t see coming.

  Ignoring them both, I stepped closer to the building. I pulled out my phone, trying to look as though I wasn’t talking to thin air by staring down at the screen. “Have you seen any elves around?”

  “Who the hell is she talking to?” Jasmine asked.

  “The bloody leech,” Kandy said. “Little creep.” Then she softened her tone. “Except for that one time.”

  Freddie poured down the side of the building, clinging to the red-brown brick just above my shoulder. I raised my hand, palm up, and the leech reached out a tentative curl of shadow to touch me. The taste of burnt cinnamon toast tickled my senses, but it was muted.

  “The elves?” I murmured, not expecting an answer but trying to create a sense of connection nonetheless. Shailaja had been able to communicate with the shadow leeches, but they were her creations, not mine.

  Freddie chittered so quietly that I barely heard it, then it withdrew from touching me. The leech sounded mournful, and I didn’t like the muted nature of its magic.

  “I left you coins,” I said. “On the balcony.” It was early in the evening and Freddie avoided daylight, so maybe the leech hadn’t fed yet. Or it wasn’t feeding enough. And that didn’t seem like a good idea.

  Slitted red eyes appeared in the center of Freddie’s amorphous body. The leech blinked, slowly. Maybe showing that it was listening.

  “Okay. Go eat, then.” I said it a little gruffly, feeling like an idiot f
or trying to have a conversation with the leech. “Then … check in with me.” I glanced over at Kandy. “We might have a job for you.”

  Freddie chittered again, flashing needle-like teeth at me before it disappeared.

  “A job for it?” Kandy echoed.

  I shrugged, tucking my phone back in my satchel. “The leech is another set of eyes, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t even know that it understands you.”

  “It understands me. I just … don’t understand it.”

  Kandy sighed heavily, muttering something about “shadow creeps” and “magical suck-faces” under her breath.

  Jasmine was looking back and forth between us, far more incredulously than anyone who’d grown up around magic should have been. “You know it looked like you were talking to yourself?”

  “I covered,” I said lamely. “With my phone.”

  “You totally didn’t.”

  Kandy snickered.

  “What is a leech exactly?” Jasmine asked.

  “You don’t want to meet Freddie if Jade’s not around.” Kandy shuddered, likely in remembrance of her last encounter with the leeches — when they were under Shailaja’s control. “Ask Kett.”

  Jasmine twisted her lips. “Honestly, my unanswered list of questions for him is already longer than my to-be-asked list.”

  Kandy barked out a laugh.

  “Benjamin is writing a chapter on Freddie,” I said, completely empathizing with Jasmine. I knew what it was like to feel as though you were constantly asking questions and only getting half answers. And from Kett, specifically. “Or at least an entry. For his chronicle.”

  “Benjamin?” Jasmine echoed, clearly having no idea who I was talking about.

  Kandy and I glanced at each other.

  “Garrick,” I said, opting for a casual tone — even though I was pretty certain I was filling the golden-haired vampire in on information she should have already known. “The vampire that Kett is mentoring. Teresa Garrick’s son.”

  The red of Jasmine’s magic rolled across her eyes. “Benjamin Garrick is in Vancouver.” Her tone was low and dark, but then she shook her head. “No, I … actually, I should have known that … Wisteria arranged it. I’m not sure … why …” She trailed off, looking down at her phone but not texting anything.