Crown of Briars Read online

  “…yeah, anything else,” Zoe agreed. She undid another button. “But I don’t think either of us is super focused at the moment. And it might be a long day.” She glanced up at him, and raised an eyebrow. “I probably need another shower anyway. Want to help?”

  Zoe liked to think of herself as a quick learner. By the time they’d finished in the shower, the water had gone cold — but, she noted with satisfaction, there was a lot less tension in Simon’s body.

  Technically, she had a bag of her own clothing, courtesy of their stopover at her place the night before, but she casually stole Simon’s button-down shirt anyway. Wisely, he went searching for another shirt, instead of protesting the matter.

  Zoe rolled up the overlong sleeves as she settled in at the kitchen table, looking over the map there. “These are the Paths in Montreal?” she asked.

  “The ones of which I know, anyway,” Simon replied. “But I have a fairly comprehensive knowledge at this point.”

  Zoe raised her eyebrow at the neatly-numbered dots on the map. There were many more than she’d been expecting. Granted, she hadn’t spent nearly as much time as Simon had done combing through the city to search out its Paths. “Well, they don’t call you the Wanderer of Arcadia for nothing, I’m guessing,” Zoe murmured, impressed.

  Simon frowned lightly. “I’ve never liked that title,” he admitted. “Wanderer implies a certain amount of randomness. If I was really wandering around Arcadia without a plan, I doubt I’d have lasted this long.”

  “The Methodical Explorer of Arcadia just doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well,” Zoe teased. She tapped the dot next to the Mount Royal Cemetery. “This is the one you think Malcolm used to dump Vivienne’s body?” she asked.

  Simon nodded. “It leads into a part of the Hedge that’s often close to Blackfrost. I doubt he’ll be able to use it again.”

  “Often close to Blackfrost?” Zoe said. “Shit, Arcadia moves around?”

  Simon shrugged. “Our world — what faeries call the Lower World — is a lot more fixed in place. Arcadia plays by different rules; most of what happens there is influenced by the faerie lords and their whims. But if you know the faerie lords, you can generally predict their location. For example, the Lady keeps the Briars away from unpleasant sights and smells. The realm of Blackfrost naturally sinks toward other cold, dark places in Arcadia, unless its lord desires otherwise. Lately, he’s been keeping Blackfrost near a particular Path in the Hedge that leads back to Toronto. Er… as a courtesy to Elaine.”

  Zoe caught herself leaning in toward him with interest. She blinked, oddly embarrassed. In theory, she’d always known that Simon was considered a fantastic expert on Arcadia… but it hadn’t sunk in until now just how much that entailed. I’m listening to an expert on the subject, she thought. That’s cool as hell.

  Simon glanced at her. His brow knitted. “What?”

  “What?” Zoe repeated.

  He flushed. “You’re looking at me a certain way. I’m not sure what it is I said.”

  Zoe grinned. “I think I’m getting fond of Professor Leclair,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’m an adult — I can pay attention and enjoy it.”

  Simon’s flush deepened, and she decided that she liked that, too. He coughed. “Well. Uh. I’ve been considering the possibility that I might tag the most likely Paths that Blackfrost hasn’t covered, so we know when they’re opened.”

  Zoe raised her eyebrows. “You can do that?” she said.

  “I can — it’s a Sagittarius trick I came up with after a lot of experimentation.” He shot her a rueful smile. “I’m afraid it wouldn’t work very well for you, as a Scorpio. You’ll just have to make do with being every vampire’s worst nightmare come to life.”

  “Hm,” Zoe said. “I’ll manage somehow.” She chewed on her lower lip. “Malcolm’s better than me,” she admitted. “Even at my best, I’d find him hard to deal with. But… if I can get my hands on his blood, I can still really wreck his day.” She shot Simon a wary look. “The opposite is true too — to an even greater extent. If he gets my blood, I’m toast. He’s got a hell of a lot of experience pulling my strings.”

  Simon nodded, as though he’d already factored that in. “Then we keep you far away from him,” he said. “And try to get you what you need.”

  Zoe’s cell phone rang; she headed over to pick it up, and sighed at the caller ID. “Damn, Dorian’s really on this first thing tomorrow idea. I figured he’d at least head to the office first.”

  Simon frowned down at the map. “You wanted to talk with him anyway,” he said. “Better sooner than later.”

  Zoe pursed her lips, and picked up the call. “I know you’re a morning person,” she said. “But some of us prefer waiting for the sun to finish coming up, Dorian.”

  “Zoe.”

  Her heart stopped.

  The voice on the other end was not Dorian’s.

  “Oh, excellent,” said Malcolm. “I seem to have your attention.”

  “Where is Dorian?” Zoe said quietly. Somehow, she managed to keep her voice from shaking.

  Simon glanced at her sharply. Silently, she shook her head at him.

  “Your wards have improved.” Malcolm ignored the question. “I’m very impressed. You’ve been practicing.”

  Zoe steadied herself against the arm of the couch. Her mouth was dry. “It’s been a while,” she said. “I wasn’t going to sit on my hands forever.”

  Her mind still hadn’t stopped reeling. It was one thing to know that Malcolm was out there — it was another thing entirely to hear his voice again. Some desperate instinct kept Zoe talking, reminding her that Dorian was in danger, and she needed to know more.

  Simon had moved toward her, eating up the space between them in a few long strides. Zoe wasn’t sure exactly what her face looked like at the moment, but it must have been bad; she could see the flare of fear and concern in him. She shook her head at him again quickly, raising a finger to her lips.

  “It’s good to see you haven’t fallen too far behind,” Malcolm observed. “In any case, I hope you don’t mind — I’ve taken the liberty of repurposing your work.” His tone was genial, if distant. That didn’t mean he had no intention of hurting her — or anyone else. It had rarely stopped him before.

  Zoe’s blood ran cold. “You stole my wards?” she managed hoarsely. How? How had he done that? He’d never even mentioned that was possible.

  “I only taught you so much before you left, Zoe,” Malcolm admonished her. “Did you think you’d learned everything there is to know already? I gave you your gifts late in life. When it comes to magic, you’re still a child.” He paused. “Or perhaps an adolescent. This rebellion of yours may yet pass, with a stronger hand.”

  Zoe’s throat closed up. She couldn’t breathe. He was going to drag her back. He was going to put her back in the dark—

  Simon’s fingers closed around hers, warm and reassuring. She breathed in, shaky.

  I’m not alone, this time. I’m not a clueless mortal jumping into the deep end.

  This time will be different.

  “Where is Dorian?” she asked again.

  Malcolm paused. “He’s a fascinating creature, isn’t he? I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like him before. Is he a warlock of some kind?”

  Zoe’s chest clenched. Fuck. Dorian was unique. Malcolm loved new and interesting things. “Do you have him or not?” she asked clearly.

  Malcolm sighed. “One would think you would be more appreciative to hear me alive and less worried over a one-time employer. But yes, I have him. Does that bother you, Zoe?”

  There was no point in hiding it. He knew, anyway. “Yes, it bothers me. Don’t hurt him. He doesn’t know anything about you. He’s been good to me.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Malcolm said. “But if you want to have any input on my decisions, Zoe, you will need to offer it in person. I am planning on leaving this office before the hour is up. If you’re not here by then, I suppose I
’ll be taking the lawyer instead.” She heard the vague smile in his voice. “I think you should come alone, Zoe. These wards could be quite unpleasant to anyone else who walks through the door.”

  “Wait, Malcolm—”

  The line went dead.

  “You’re not going alone,” Simon said.

  “I’m not stupid enough to suggest it,” Zoe replied. She rummaged for the iron she’d retrieved from her condo, checking through it. There were a few small, pre-prepared anchors, and a backup charm Zoe kept around for Jasmine, in case hers ever failed. She plucked the blunted nail from the little wooden box. “Got a knife?” she asked Simon.

  He passed her a kitchen knife from the counter — blanched and glanced away, as she slit her forefinger open. “What are you doing?” he asked. “You’re still low on magic, aren’t you?”

  Zoe smeared her blood over the nail, taking in a long breath. “There’s already magic in here,” she said. “I’m just… tweaking it.” The magic in her blood sank into the nail, dissolving in a red mist as she watched with her Witchsight. She blocked out the rest of the world, honing in on the spell inside the nail — pulling, twisting, turning its protections outward instead of inward.

  When she came back to the moment, Simon was next to her. He was disinfecting her cut, tucking a band-aid around it. Zoe laughed — half-desperate, half-pleased, and feeling utterly absurd. “You know this is probably coming off again soon,” she told him.

  Simon pressed her fingers to his lips with a worried smile. “It’s on for now,” he said.

  Zoe pressed the blunted nail into his hand, holding his eyes. “Malcolm’s stolen my wards. I don’t know how he did it, so I don’t know if I can steal them back. The wards will give him more power over you already, but the moment you start trying to use magic, they’ll contract on you. I think this should give you enough breathing room for one good sucker-punch, though.”

  Simon nodded grimly. “We can’t face him there,” he said. “The wards are too much of a disadvantage. If I’ve only got one chance, then I’ll need to use it to take us all to the Briars, the way the Lady does it. It won’t be a pleasant journey — but it’s not deadly, either.”

  Zoe checked the time. “Shit. We haven’t got long.” She shoved to her feet, grabbing her borrowed coat.

  “You think Malcolm will really leave without you?” Simon asked. “He went to some trouble to find you already.”

  “He’ll do it,” Zoe said shortly. “He doesn’t make idle threats. He’ll take Dorian and do… whatever he’s planning to do.” Her blood ran cold. She couldn’t bring herself to speculate. “Then maybe he’ll come back and ask nicely again, once he’s convinced me he’s serious.”

  She headed for the door — but just as she reached it, Simon grabbed her, tugging her in. His lips came down on hers; he pressed her back into the door.

  Zoe accepted the stolen moment, letting herself fall into him. He was still a bright jumble of emotions, but she could see the steady glow that underpinned it all now, strong and reassuring. Whatever else Simon felt, it grew out of a warm, steady love — love for the world around him, for the people he knew, for her. Zoe knew that glow would never change, never disappear. It was a comforting constant she could cling to.

  Simon broke away from the kiss — but he held her eyes. “I won’t let him take you again,” he promised. There was a certainty in his voice that made her believe him.

  Zoe leaned up onto her toes to kiss him back. She forced down her fear, determined. “I won’t let him take me either,” she said. “So let’s worry about getting Dorian back and gift-wrapping that son of a bitch for your Lady.”

  They arrived at Dorian’s office with eight minutes to spare.

  The sun had just finished coming up. A lucky taxi on the way there had cut down travel time and given Zoe a chance to catch her breath. Her stomach still churned as they approached the front.

  The office lived down a quiet nook of the Old Port, neighbored by one of the district’s ubiquitous upscale cafés. Zoe gave the other door a wary look as they approached; it was hard for a witch to cause too much collateral damage unless they were in Arcadia, where ideas were made real. But magical fallout wasn’t entirely out of the question, especially with three of them in such a close space.

  “He’s got to have some sort of escape plan,” Zoe muttered. “Otherwise we’d just be able to wait him out. Where’s the closest Path from here, Simon?”

  “Probably the Court of Appeals,” Simon said. “It comes out into the Hedge near Fool’s Hope. That’s certainly far enough away from Blackfrost that Malcolm would be able to use it.”

  Zoe cast her eyes quickly over the front door. Her wards still thrummed there, tangled into the iron hidden behind the doorframe… but as she prodded at them with her magic, they flared, reaching out for her in a way that they shouldn’t have done. She pulled back, wary. “God damn it. He really did it. He stole my wards.”

  But how? She’d spent years slowly improving the intricate web on the office. The wards should have been keyed to her personally. Unless…

  Zoe reached out again — more firmly this time. The wards responded reluctantly to her touch, though she felt them fighting her each step of the way. Her eyes narrowed. “He’s impersonating me. I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he’s mimicked my magical signature, convinced the wards that he’s me. I can fight him on it, but it’s only a matter of time until I lose.” She pressed her lips together. “He’ll know I’m here now. You got that charm I gave you?”

  “I have it,” Simon confirmed.

  “Good. Hold onto it.” She studied the subtle, blood-red net around the doorframe. “Stay out here, give me a minute or two. Once I see Dorian, I’m going to try to steal the wards back from Malcolm. I won’t succeed, but it might distract him enough that he won’t notice you coming in after me.”

  Simon opened his mouth to argue, but Zoe shook her head at him. “I know,” she said. “But come on, we’ve only got one chance at this. If you don’t absolutely nail him to the Briars the very first time, we’re both screwed.”

  The warlock let out his breath. She saw him fight himself for an extra moment… but finally, he nodded reluctantly. “Two minutes,” Simon told her. “Absolutely no more than that.”

  Zoe plucked the band-aid from her finger — she pressed at the cut until it bled again, and swiped the blood across the front door, sinking her magic back into the wards. As she opened the door, the wards parted for her… though she wasn’t entirely certain it was her own doing.

  The office was still dark; a single lamp had been left on in Dorian’s office, behind the frosted glass door. Zoe headed for the back office, keenly aware of her time ticking down. She was absolutely certain that Simon would be in after her the second her two minutes were up.

  “Well?” she called out. “You wanted me here. I’m here.”

  “A bit overdramatic, aren’t we?” Malcolm’s voice drifted through the darkness. The keenness of his presence struck her. He was here. He was alive, just beyond that door.

  And maybe Dorian. The thought steeled her. She forced herself forward, pushing open the door to the back office.

  The tall floor lamp next to Dorian’s desk backlit Malcolm’s thin, wiry form; his dated but dignified suit wouldn’t have seemed out-of-place even among Dorian’s more upscale clientele. His salt-and-pepper hair was more pepper than Zoe remembered — the once-deep lines around his face had lightened, so that he looked younger than ever. The thought unnerved her… but not quite as much as the sight of his mismatched red-and-black eyes. You had black eyes, Zoe thought. What the hell is this?

  Malcolm’s aura was… unstable. That was the only word she could find to describe it. Once, it had been calm and implacable — but now, she saw hints of strange movement just beneath the surface. A flicker of tempestuous air. A hint of bloodlust. A touch of verdant green that stirred a sickness in her stomach. Rose, she thought. Oh, god, that’s Rose’s power, isn’t it?


  “What have you done to yourself?” Zoe whispered.

  Malcolm raised an eyebrow in her direction. Slowly, a smile tugged across his face. “You can see it,” he said. “Of course you can. I should expect no less.” Something else wavered across his aura then… relief? “Finally,” Malcolm sighed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, young lady.”

  Zoe searched the room quickly, desperate for a glimpse of Dorian — but she didn’t need to look far. The lawyer was collapsed on the small leather sofa in the corner. The awful pallor of his face sent a thread of alarm through Zoe at first — but his chest was rising and falling ever-so-slowly, and his aura still possessed that unique blankness that she had come to associate with him. To be that blank, he needed a soul. To have a soul, he needed to be alive.

  She started for Dorian quickly — but Malcolm stepped ever-so-calmly into her way, and she came up short. Her breath caught in her throat. Don’t let him touch you!

  Malcolm’s smile was still there, genuinely pleased. Zoe didn’t want to guess what had caused that pleasure. “So worried?” he asked. “Why is that, Zoe? What is he to you?”

  Zoe clenched her fingers into her hands. She didn’t respond to the question. “What did you do to him?” she asked. The anger slowly unfurling in her stomach had briefly overtaken her fear.

  “I gave you a time limit,” Malcolm replied. “It wasn’t for nothing. I set a shadow in his blood. I’d give him… a quarter hour? Half an hour, perhaps.” He considered her thoughtfully. “I doubt you’ll be able to remove it from him, in your current state. But I’ll be sure to see to his recovery once we’re safely in Arcadia.”

  Zoe felt herself go pale. “But… you need him,” she said. “You said he’s unique. If he dies too quickly, you can’t take anything from him!”

  Malcolm shook his head slowly. “Fascinating as he is, my dear, he isn’t what I need. I’ve done with taking power for the moment.” His mismatched eyes sharpened on her. “I need you, Zoe. You and your Witchsight.”