Chapter 577: Downfall
I stood back, trying to stay out of the way, the horror of the circumstance still weighing on me as I watched Enforcers carry the injured-and the dead-to various parts of the house. More and more fallen Dumonts appeared, from rooms scattered all over the giant mansion. I knew the family was large, hundreds of members, but I had no idea they all lived together in a fortress like this.
No way I could handle having my coven around me 24/7. No. Way.
Quaid stood next to me, head down, face drawn into a tight scowl. I knew he had to be lost in the demand Mia made of him. It took me a little while to break out of my own shock, but once I did, my hand crept into his and he accepted what fraction of comfort I had to offer without question.
Our magic linked, flowed together, his tie to the Hayle coven still as strong as ever, though now buried under his growing Enforcer power. I dreaded the day he accepted his place as a full Enforcer, knowing, despite the fact I'd set him free from me, I'd cry over his loss when he finally severed our last connection.
Pender Tremere, the Enforcer leader, strode with ponderous concern to our side, one hand landing on Quaid's shoulder as he bowed his head to me. The air over us continued to burst and ripple with magic as more and more Enforcers arrived, others leaving, the rush of activity making me feel dizzy and starting a headache behind my right eye.
"Thank you for coming, Coven Leader." Pender turned to Quaid. "Perhaps you'd like to stay with your sister?"
Quaid shook himself, breaking our touch as he straightened his shoulders. "I'm here to serve, sir."
Pender smiled sadly and dropped his hand from Quaid's shoulder. "I know," he said. "In that case, I ask you to please attend to the Dumont leader, if you would, trainee."
Quaid's face spasmed in pain, rippling through his magic to me.
"Yes, sir," he said.
"What will happen now?" I hugged myself, looking around, wincing from the scent of death and the cold feeling of the house, the pressure of so much grief and loss sucking at my spirit. Though most of the family was now behind closed doors, under care, the place still had the feeling of a giant refugee camp.
Pender looked around too, lines etched deeply in his narrow face. "I don't know," he said, ever so softly, as though he wasn't aware he spoke. "Nothing like this has ever happened before. We'll be here to guard the family, naturally. Until some resolution can be found."
He didn't have to say there wasn't much left to protect.
Mom strode toward us, face calm, emotionless, though I knew her better than that. She did the whole Council Leader thing way better than I would ever play my role and I wondered if she'd teach me how to hide my emotions so I didn't have to feel like my pessimism was only adding to the problem.
"That's the last of them, at least as far as we know." Mom's fingers brushed my cheek, the momentary contact allowing me in, to feel how weary and sad she was before she dropped her hand. "According to Council rolls, there should be three hundred and seventy six members."
Holy. Our coven of just over a hundred felt small in comparison.
"Any outside the premises?" Pender sounded all official again. Mom had that effect on most people, despite the kindness she showed those beneath her.
"Some." She reached out and took Quaid's hand. "They've been located and brought back."
Quaid's chocolate eyes flashed with blue power. "How many lost?"
Mom hesitated, long enough I knew the answer wasn't good.
Not that losing even one witch was okay, Dumonts or not. Yes, they'd been a thorn in our sides for a long time. But bygones were bygones as far as I was concerned. After the death of Odette, their misguided leader, the worst I had from the Dumont family was the occasional irritation from Mia's cousins, Jean Marc and Kristophe.
No, I didn't like the Dumont family. But no coven deserved this fate.
No witch.
And from the tension around Mom's eyes, the number ran high.
"One hundred and forty three," Mom said as Quaid's brow tightened, my own stomach clenching. "Survivors."
Dear. Elements. Almost two thirds of the coven...
Dead.
"So far," Mom said. Winced. "Some are still touch and go."
I quivered, reached for Gram, felt her support me as tears welled, my throat tightening. For the Dumonts, but more so, for us.
Who had done this? And why?
More importantly, were other covens at risk?
I had to assume so. "Mom," I said. Didn't have to finish.
She nodded quickly, her mask falling away as rage flickered over her face. "I know," she said. "We'll find out who did this. I swear it. And they will pay."
While I appreciated her sentiment, the pessimist in me was still alive and well. Whoever did this, whoever attacked the Dumonts, brought a powerful coven to its knees. And while yes, Mia wasn't the strongest leader, the Dumont family was generations old and one of the strongest in North America. If they'd fallen so easily...
Choke.
"It could have been Ameline," Quaid said, voice gravel over coals, burning with fury. "Not directly, but she could have had a hand in it."
Mom didn't say anything, but she had to be thinking the same thing. "She'll be questioned," Mom said.
"Mia mentioned Rupe." My normal friend, the Goth guy I'd known as Blood, who I'd reconnected with at Harvard only to have him stripped away by Ameline. A tug of guilt reminded me I hadn't thought of him in ages. Or continued to look for him after my initial hunt for him failed when he disappeared. "So you could be right, Quaid."
Mom let his hand go, stepping back, mask in place once again. "As I said, she'll be questioned."
"Let me talk to her." Ameline had been trying to lure me in for months, sending endless notes, claiming she needed to see me. I ignored her, but maybe it was time to take her up on her invitation.
Mom's flat, cold expression shut me down well before I could offer further.
"I will handle Miss Benoit," she said. "It's time for the Hayle coven leader to return home."
She said what?
Let me handle this, Mom sent, mental tone sharp and rigid.
Mia asked for my help, I sent back, with my own razor edge. Directly.
I know, Mom sent. That's why you haven't been arrested. She did not just say that to me. But your initial invitation was just that. Initial. It's now my job to handle this.
Mom didn't wait for me to answer, spinning and striding off. I watched her go, seething, my horror turned to fury aimed at the back of her head.
Pender bowed to me before walking after Mom. Quaid turned to me, dark eyes full of churning emotions, as powerful as mine.
I'll keep you posted. His magic slid around me, pulled me close, the intensity of his need to act firing me up, sending my demon into a cycle of snarling and snapping even as she reached back, tightening the connection.
There again, the tingle, the pull. The touch I'd thought lost to me. Still there, calling.
His hair felt soft, thick under my hands as I clasped the back of his neck, welcoming his lips as he bent over me. A burst of power surged between us, heating my body to boiling as his lips devoured mine, hands hot where they pressed to my t-shirt. I sank into him, and he into me, our bodies locking together as we both took what we needed.
Passion. Support. Promise.
Quaid pulled away first, leaving me panting, my demon snarling at him to come back, to stay with us. A need like I'd never known burned in his eyes, a need I knew very well.
Too well.
Quaid let me go, stepping back while I did the same, the touch of his Enforcer magic coming between us.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"I'm not." It came out fierce, full of pain.
Quaid hesitated. "How's Liam?"
Bastard.
"How's Payten?" Oh, the pain we brought each other.
Quaid straightened, nodded.
And me? Well. I walked away.
***
