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“Two reasons. First, we have the strength, but we have lost the scent. Your kind always has greater resources than mine.”

“And the other?”

“As much as I might want to snuff out Carlisle and his friends,” said Diana, “I could walk away from all of this. My rage does not outweigh my interest in survival. I come to you offering aid and alliance because you have something to offer.”

Wentworth’s eyebrows rose. “And that would be…?”

“Immortality.”

The proposal shocked him. It plainly shocked her companion, too, but he could not even form words to voice an objection. A single glance from Diana ensured his cowed silence.

Wentworth paused to let the implications catch up. “You understand that you would not become some hybrid powerhouse?” he asked. “Those are myths. You would become like us, but the beast within you would die in the transition.”

“Your kind is not without power,” said Diana. “Certain conversations have lately convinced me that longevity is preferable to primal might for souls like ours.”

Again, Wentworth took the moment to think. As much as he wanted to take her up on her proposal, the truth was that Carlisle’s trail had gone cold.

Then the kitchen door opened. Unferth walked in carrying a cell phone in his hands and murder in his eyes.

Chapter Sixteen: Shadows

Normal children feared the dark. They knew monsters lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Darkness hid mundane dangers, too. One could so easily trip over something unseen, or get lost, or tumble down a hole. Nobody liked it when they couldn’t see. But children understood that darkness could hold more than just loose toys or tree roots. Children knew that monsters preferred the darkness.

That had been Onyx’s first clue that she wasn’t normal. She liked being alone in the dark just fine. If monsters could hide there, so could she.

It helped that her sight and hearing had always been so sharp. Onyx often sensed trouble before it found her. She didn’t recognize this talent until later in life, when her fascination with fictional magic led her to real research, and then dabbling and one day actual practice. Onyx learned to use senses beyond her eyes and ears, but she also learned to make the most of those natural gifts.

She could deal with a cloudy, moonless night. She could handle wet grass and tall trees. She could handle fog, too… even if it had been summoned up by her companion.

Molly followed close behind Onyx, partly distracted by the need to maintain her hold on the fog. A month ago, this would have been much more difficult. Neither woman expected that an exodus of most of the other Practitioners of the city-those that survived the fight at Kanatova’s party-would make it easier to work their own magic. They couldn’t complain about the outcome. Fewer Practitioners in a given place meant more power for those who remained.

As always, mundane effort made magic that much more effective. Onyx and Molly dressed for the task in dark pants and black jackets. They moved with care and deliberate stealth. They avoided the roads, the parking lots and trails that ran through the park.

Beyond the tree line stretched an expanse of unkempt grass. Past that lay a parking lot, and on the other side of that stood a broad, three-story brick building. Onyx pointed to the building, then put her hand in Molly’s and whispered in her ear to briefly share the supernatural acuity of her vision.

“Occupied,” Molly murmured softly. It was obvious enough. Several cars sat outside the building. There were lights on, too-but in each window, drapes or blinds covered the lights.

“No signs on the building, either,” whispered Onyx. “UW and NOAA marked all the buildings they use. All the other old Navy buildings got boarded up or…” Onyx fell silent, placing a hand on Molly’s shoulder. She turned her head toward sounds Molly couldn’t hear. Her hand gripped tightly in sudden alarm.

Molly already had her wand in hand. She twirled it in her fingers to hold it pointing down, pushed herself and Onyx back against the nearest tree and plunged the tip of her wand into the soft, wet earth. Slowly and silently, the tree branches bent lower around them. The grass at their feet grew higher, and with it the stems of rhododendrons that had never gone into bloom. The bushes rose almost a foot with each breath the women took. It was imperfect cover, but in the darkness they didn’t need more than that. They only needed something to break up the sight lines.

Another breath passed. Then another. Eventually, Molly heard the soft padding of footsteps from behind them. Her eyes turned right and she saw what Onyx had heard: a huge grey wolf, over three feet tall at the shoulder, sniffing through the grass. Molly kept one hand on her wand. The other gently reached into the pocket of her jacket to pull out a few leaves. She inhaled from her right and exhaled to her left, dropping the leaves to her left.

Onyx watched intently. She felt the breeze shift, bringing them downwind of the wolf. She heard it sniff and watched its ears twitch, but the beast seemed to relax its vigilance. It sat to look over its shoulder and let out a soft whine.

It waited. Molly and Onyx could do little but watch and listen. Each could deal with a mere wolf. Neither one thought for a second that it was that simple.

Onyx heard the others before Molly did. A silent gesture and a squeeze of her shoulder told her partner how to shift the wind again to give them the best chance of remaining undetected. Molly did so with some effort, knowing that she would soon lose her hold on the fog as a result of all this. It seemed a small price to pay when the other wolves appeared to their left and to their right, sitting or standing in wait uncomfortably close to their tree.

Even Onyx barely heard the arrivals that followed before she could see them. Human shapes in black clothing of wildly varying styles emerged from the darkness. Some carried weapons. Others appeared empty-handed. With her sharp eyes and even the minimal light from the building, Onyx could see the wolves’ breath. As near as she could tell, these people didn’t breathe at all… and they were many.

* * *

A loud, pounding fist on the door snapped Lorelei and Rachel from their silent embrace. Lorelei still sat in her chair, with her arms restrained behind its backrest by several pairs of handcuffs. Rachel knelt beside her, arms still wrapped around Lorelei’s waist. The angel was indifferent to the cold, hard tile. Lorelei lifted her head from Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel turned to look back at the door as it opened a mere inch.

“Hey in there,” a man asked, “do you need food, or is that not a thing for you?”

“Yes,” Lorelei answered. “I hunger.”

“Sandwiches okay? Or do you have crazy demon dietary requirements?”

“I will take what I can.”

“Is it my imagination,” asked Rachel, “or were those loaded statements?”

“If Alex cannot sate my needs, I must tend to them myself,” Lorelei murmured with her eyes still on the door. “You always please me, but I draw more strength from mortals. My power returns too slowly. I grow bored with this place. ”

Rachel’s eyes widened as she slipped back from her lover. The sinister tone in Lorelei’s words sent a wave of desire through the angel. “Woah, wait a fuckin’ sec here,” she stammered. “You’re not gonna-I mean-oh fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“My opportunities are dictated by who comes through that door. The women of this group would not be susceptible. Much as I would love to ruin Hauser, he is undeserving.” Lorelei’s head tilted curiously. “I suppose I have changed more than I thought.”

“Yeah, but… I mean… uh…”

“They could always refuse me.”

“Name one mortal who ever turned you down?”

“Alex.”

“Yeah, for like a day,” Rachel noted.

Lorelei nodded solemnly. “It was amazing.” Her eyes turned to Rachel’s. They all but left her melting. “To be fair, I was in much worse shape at the time. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”