To Dance with the Devil

“Graves, you’re back.”

“Jeez,” I wheezed, “can’t a girl even take a nap without everyone getting spooked?”

It was a weak joke, but he gave a snort of laughter anyway, settling himself cross-legged onto the ground beside me as I sat up. Chris dropped a blanket over me and handed me a bottle of water. The blanket was rough wool and army green. Looking around I saw a lot more people milling about than had been there when I’d passed out. Most of them were in uniform.

“Drink this. Stay warm. I’ve got other people with worse injuries to tend to, but shock is tricky. Bubba, keep an eye on her.”

Bubba nodded his assent. When Chris walked off to his next patient, Bubba turned to me. “Before you ask, they’re National Guard. The governor sent in a unit at the archbishop’s request. There’s a group of militant priests here, too, working to banish the thing in the middle of the battlefield. The guard’s pretty much taken things over. Bruno’s fine. So’re John and Matty. Mrs. DeLuca is alive, but every hair on her body is white, even her eyelashes. And she’s blind. Chris bandaged her eyes, but I’m pretty sure it’s permanent.”

I was pretty sure it would be, too. She’d been a conduit for too much powerful magic. She was lucky to have lived. I figured she probably knew that. She’d been prepared to die. Blindness would be hard, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But it was better than dying.

So was being a werewolf.

Apparently it was a night for tough choices and compromise.

“What’s up with your eyes?”

“The magic did it. Everyone the magic hit has blue eyes. You do, too.”

Really? Wow. How weird. No matter how much I learn about magic, I’m always startled by the odd, esoteric stuff that gets left out of the textbooks.

“I have blue eyes now?” I knew he’d just said that, but I seemed to be a little slow on the uptake. Besides, I’d wanted blue eyes like Ivy’s since I was a little kid.

He nodded.

“Don’t suppose you have a mirror?”

“Nope, sorry.”

Oh, well, I could wait to see my face. At least the color change didn’t seem to have affected my vision. I could see the bustle of cleanup activity easily thanks to the full moon and the huge fluorescent lights mounted atop four big National Guard equipment trucks.

I sat, sipping my water, feeling strength seeping slowly back into me. Soon I might even be up to standing. But there was no hurry. For the moment I was content to stay right where I was.

“How’s Talia?”

“Chris says she’ll make it. He used some pretty hefty magic on her, and that helped. Still, she’s going to need a lot of physical therapy if she’s going to get full use of that arm again. They’ve taken her to the staging area for the medical choppers.”

She was going to be fine. That was such a relief that I closed my eyes, saying a quick prayer of thanks.

“You okay?”

“Hunky-dory.” He gave me a long, steady look, then asked, “Did you shoot one of their mages?”

I shook my head. “Nope. Took out the focus stone. That’s where all the power was.”

“Smart move.”

“Thanks.”

We didn’t say much after that, just sat in companionable silence. I wondered what had happened to Thomas. He wasn’t tied up on the ground anymore. But I didn’t wonder enough to ask.

I turned at the sound of footsteps some time later. “Ms. Graves.” Zach Stone, one of the lower-ranking employees of Miller & Creede, stood at full parade rest, as if we were military and I was an officer. I was startled by that but didn’t comment. His expression was too serious.

“Yes?”

“Your employee, Talia Han, gave me a message for you.”

“Yeah?”

“‘If I wanted to be in a war zone, I’d have stayed in the army. I quit.’” He extended his hand; on his palm rested my jewelry.

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was a little hysterical, but it felt really good. I took the bracelet and earring Zach offered, then the earring Bubba held out to me. Rather than risk losing them by tucking them in my pockets, I put them all on.

When I thought I was steady enough to stand without falling, I got to my feet. Turning to the nearest medic, I asked where I could find the injured mages. His directions led me right to three of them.

Emma and Matty were holding each other upright, standing silently over Isabella DeLuca. Bruno sat next to her on a rock, his body sagging with exhaustion. His head was nearly between his knees. A wool blanket much like the one I wore was wrapped loosely around his shoulders; beneath it, he wore an old Mets baseball jersey and faded jeans. His eyes were blue, his hair liberally laced with silver. It was so strange. Not unattractive, but not the Bruno I knew and loved. I felt a pang of sadness but shoved it forcibly aside. He was alive. It was practically a miracle.

“Celia.” He sat up, smiling hugely. “You did it.” He held out an arm and I ducked beneath it, letting him pull me close. I buried my face in his shoulder for a moment, taking in the familiar strength, the warmth, the scent of him that had been a part of my life for so long.

“We did it,” I corrected him. “It was a group effort.”

He gave me a weary squeeze. “Yeah, but we were losing until you showed up. And I heard you were the one who made the big shot.”

I couldn’t deny it, so I didn’t even try.

The smile faded, his expression sobering. “Even with Finn dead, and them having to fight against both us and the existing protections, we were losing. Who the hell are these guys?”

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “Wish I did.” It occurred to me belatedly that he’d spoken of them in the present tense. “Do you think they’re still alive?” I hoped not. The force of the explosion when I’d shot the vosta had been huge. It had wiped out close to two hundred spawn. Surely nobody close to the blast could have survived.

He gave a huge sigh. “Finn’s dead. I felt that. Another of the mages was killed when you took out the vosta. But two of them survived. I’m sure of it.”

I swore wearily. Two new enemies, enemies strong enough and smart enough to have survived the equivalent of a magical Hiroshima.

“Celia.” Isabella’s voice drew my focus. She looked so frail, with her eyes bandaged and her hair snow- white, but she sat rigidly upright, her spine as straight as if it was reinforced with a steel rod despite the exhaustion she had to be feeling. She still wore her robe, but it had been bleached a white so pure it was almost painful to look at.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You did well. You should be proud.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“You’re welcome.” She sighed. “I owe Isaac an apology. Apparently he was right about you. He will no doubt want to rub my nose in it.”

Isabella DeLuca was admitting she was wrong. She was going to apologize. Holy crap. I stood there blinking. I knew I should say something but couldn’t seem to come up with anything to say that wouldn’t be seriously tactless. Bruno gave me a weary grin, but it was Emma who threw me a lifeline.

“Before I forget,” she said, “Kevin called. He and Michelle are both fine. They didn’t eat anybody.”

“Oh, good.”

Bruno’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t interrupt.

Emma continued. “He said they’ll meet us for breakfast at Irma’s Diner at nine—if you’re okay with him.”

“Why wouldn’t you be okay with Kevin? What happened?” Bruno asked.

“It’s a long story,” I told him, “and not important.”