Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 13

It takes three people four trips to bring all of Az’s bags intothe house. I swear the pack credit card is still smoking and there have beenthree calls from the issuing company about possible fraudulent activity. Sheinvites Greta into her room for a fashion show, but I quash that idea as soonas the words are out of her mouth. While it would be fun to let Greta playbabysitter, we have more urgent things on the to-do list. Besides, having tosit through an endless parade of outfits is likely to put Greta in a homicidalmood. That’s generally something I try to avoid. Especially since we’ve alreadyaverted one Greta-plosion today.

I want to give mypack as much protection as possible as quickly as possible. Az wants to showerand change clothes. I tell her to get her ass to the living room. She juststares at me. I glare. After a moment she caves. Good. With the rest of thepack watching, I can't allow her to disobey orders. It would not have been a prettylesson. At least now she knows that Alpha Glare beats Princess Pout.

Az clings to my side– something about her drawing energy from the strongest source in the room – asshe directs Greta, Ike, and Jose in the fine art of amulet making. The herbsstink to high hell. At least, they do to Shifters. They don't seem to affect Azat all.

"Okay, Ike. Youhave to keep the Wainroot away from the Greganweed." Az uncoils an armfrom around my waist to point at the bags of stinky herbs spread across thecoffee table in the living room.

With the tip of afinger, Ike slides a bag of black spiky herbs away from a bag of green puffs."Can I ask why?"

"Well, ifWainroot comes in to contact with Greganweed and the slightest bit of moisture,they create a gas called Death's Breath."

Ike drops the greenpuffs to the floor. The others freeze. Sweat beads across Jose's forehead. It'sa damn good thing he's far from the two volatile ingredients.

"Princess."

She turns her face upto me, lips twisted in a grimace. "This is one of those early disclosurethings, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Any otherpotential hazards we should know about?"

"Nope. We'regood. Well," she pauses, taps her chin thoughtfully, "we're not goingto blow up the house."

It takes the rest ofthe morning to create enough amulets to protect my pack against emotionalmanipulation, massive energy drain, psychic attack, and sleeping spells.Fortunately, when the herbs are tied in bags and attached to each other, thesmell cancels out. I don't think a Shifter would last two days surrounded bythe odor of unblended herbs. Once the nickel-sized amulets are hooked on acopper chain, Jose loops them around necks like he’s on a Mardi Gras float.

Tommy sets up hisportable tattoo station in the middle of the living room. Oscar, as predicted,balks. So we make him go first. Greta pours six shots of vodka down his throatand holds him down in the chair. Princess perches on the arm of the sofa withher jeans rolled over her left knee. The Writ of Angalis fades in and out for amoment before solidifying.

If it hurts to keepthe words from fading, she doesn't give any indication. She had mentioned aneed to practice making the text appear and disappear. Oscar bitches like alittle girl while Tommy tattoos the two lines of text on his right shoulder.Once the ink is dry, he bucks Greta off him and makes a mad dash for thekitchen.

"The cherryvodka's in the freezer," Greta calls out as she takes his place in therecliner. She had wanted to go last, but I need her to tattoo the words onto Tommy,and she can't do that if her shoulder is still sore from the needle.

"You should beglad this isn't the Rite of Quali. That's sixteen lines," Az muses whenJose takes his turn in the chair of pain. "Or the Word of Ioan. Eighteenlines. Long words. Lots of punctuation."

Jose's eyes go wide.The pungent aroma of fear wafts through the room. The younger Shifters pick upon the scent and cower from Tommy.

"Not helping,Az," Ike mutters. He's next in line, and his eyes are a little fearful.The man who tattooed a portrait of his wife on his left bicep is afraid of atwo line spell?

"Sorry, bigbrother."

Someone needs tomentor our void. She needs to know the ins and outs of living with a pack of Shifters.Greta is the best candidate for a number of reasons. I trust her. She's a chickso that'll keep Az from embarrassing us both with any chick-related questions.Plus, Greta's not a hereditary Shifter. She remembers being human and herindoctrination into Shifter life.

By the time I sit inthe chair, Az's face is nearly translucent. Lines of pain bracket bloodlesslips, and her hair is drenched with sweat. Hardly surprising given that it'staken us two hours to get to this point. The hands I cradle between mine areice cold.

"Can you keep ittogether for two more rounds, Princess?"

"I can go allnight."

It's a lie, but shegets credit for trying. I have no doubt that if we needed her to, she'd keepthe text visible until she passed out. "When we're done, you can take yourshower and change."

"You can show methat dress you were talking about," Greta offers.

Ha. Which one? Halfthose bags contain nothing but dresses, and Az has spent the pasthour-and-a-half describing each one. I now know more about lace, fabric – whatthe hell is poplin? – hemlines, and necklines I ever cared to know.

Tommy glances down atAz's leg. "I think I have that memorized if you need to take abreak."

Az shakes her headfuriously. "No, no." Her hands grip mine. "If you misplace thetwo commas, you have the Writ of Idris. Conjuring wraiths? Never a good idea.Misspelling any word could change the nature of the writ."

Tommy's hands quiver.Great. This is exactly why I didn't want him to know all the ins and outs ofthe text before he started tattooing. With my luck, I'll end up with a smearedwrit that curses me with erectile dysfunction and bad breath.

Az slips her handsout of my grasp. Though her legs wobble like a colt's, she moves to Tommy'sside. "Hey, hey. You've done this twelve times already, and you've done anamazing job. Really precision work. Those cedillas can't be easy. Dad smearedtwo while he was doing the Rite of Uli on my right arm, and that was after ayear of writing on me."

"They are hard,but if you flick your wrist just a little, they come out all right."

"Sweettrick." Az kisses Tommy's bearded cheek before retaking her place on thesofa. "I want to get something on my right ankle. It's the only placewithout text. It feels naked."

I'm not entirely surementioning the word 'naked' is a good way to calm Tommy's nerves. It sure ashell doesn't settle mine. Funnily enough, Tommy's hands relax. His eyes dartdown to Az's knee before he presses the needle against my bare skin. "Whatwere you thinking about getting?"

"A lily. Theysymbolize freedom. Maybe something pretty like a rainbow or a daisy. Or a heartand a rainbow."

"Those are someawfully girly tattoos, Princess," I say, holding back laughter.

"Then it's agood thing I'm a girl, isn't it?" She shrugs and then leans back on herelbows. The earlier strain seems to have eased. "I don't know. It's just athought."

Once the last letteris inked in flesh, Tommy and Greta clean the station while I check on my pack.Most of them are in the kitchen. The bottle of cherry vodka is empty. Thebottle of tequila is not quite there. Yet. Judging by the way Jose and Ike arepassing it back and forth, it's only a matter of time. Shifters metabolizealcohol quickly. In an hour or so, I'll have a pack of hurting puppies.

I don't feel theslightest twinge of sympathy.

"Shower,"Princess says as she breezes past me to the stairs. "We can call UncleEvan when I'm done."

Sure. Why not makethe day even crappier than it's already been? Maybe I can join the guys for adrink or six before we make the call. I would probably get along better with Magesand witches if I kept my blood-alcohol level at three times the legal limitwhen dealing with them.

Greer calls twicewhile I'm challenging Ike to a shot race. Both calls go straight to voicemail.I doubt I'll even listen to those. I've already reached my asshole limit forthe day, and Az hasn't even called her godfather yet.

My phone is buried ina box of Cheerios in the pantry when Az joins us in the kitchen. The emptytequila bottle is in the sink. I have a death grip on a half-full bottle ofgrapefruit vodka. Ike and Oscar have tried to take it from me three times.They've ended up face-first on the floor three times apiece.

"Oh, dear,"Az frets, pleating the shiny fabric of her pastel print dress. "I'll callUncle Evan tomorrow."

Oh no. I did not signmyself up for a massive hangover just for her to chicken out. The room sways abit when I lurch out of my chair. She rushes to wrap her arms around my waistand shove a shoulder into my chest.

Seriously? She's likea kitten. What's she going to do to keep the big, bad wolf from falling flat onhis face? It's more likely I'll drag us both down and squash her like a fly.

"You're a sillydrunk," she laughs. "Am I a kitten or am I a bug?"

Great. I said thatpart out loud. Because giving her ammunition against me makes things fun."You're a pain in the ass. Let's go, Princess."

The small room offthe dining room was originally supposed to be my office. Somehow it turned intothe pack library and study hall. It's a good place to go when you need privacy.A point that is lost on the seven Shifters trailing behind us like well-trainedpuppies. Which they are. Except for Hank and Jose. And Oscar. And Mark.

Greta, one of the fewsober people in the house, sets herself up at the cherry desk in the corner ofthe room. She's responsible for taking notes. She excels at picking up on vocalinflections and hidden meanings. Az will make the call on her burner phone. Idon't want the Mage of St. Louis to have the landline number, and we can ditchthe phone if he proves to be a complication.

Az doesn't have toput the call on speakerphone. Shifter hearing is better than the human sensemodern phones are designed for. Curled into a corner of the couch, she pulls herknees to her chest, smoothes the hem down her shins, and rests her chin on herleft knee. Does she even realize what message she's sending? The Mage of St.Louis hasn't even answered the phone, and she's already turned herself into assmall a target as possible. Not at all reassuring for everyone else. Bodylanguage and its importance are two things Greta will have to work with her on.

"Hello?" agruff voice on the other end demands after four rings.

"Hello, UncleEvan," Az responds, voice pitched so that it is respectful and submissive.Is that how one is supposed to address a Mage of Evan Shica's caliber? Perhaps Magesare more like Shifters than I am comfortable admitting.

"Astraea!"Shica infuses her name with pure joy. Though I can't detect any deception, itsets my wolf on edge. Have I mentioned it's a possessive, overprotectivebastard? "This is a pleasant surprise. Where are you?"

"Houston."

"Is your fatherthere with you?"

At the mention of herfather, Az pokes out her tongue and crinkles her nose. An understandableresponse. "No. I believe he is back in New Orleans with Mother."

"Do you need meto pick you up?"

The room goes utterlysilent. Thanks guys. We obviously need another session on subtle eavesdropping.

Az doesn't hesitatefor a second. "No. I'm okay. More than okay. As a matter of fact I'm-." Before her enthusiasm can set off warning bells, she cuts herself off."I'm good."

"Are they therewith you right now?"

"Yes."

"Do you rememberwhat we talked about on your seventh birthday after your stay in Idaho? I gaveyou a phrase to memorize and instructions on when to use it."

Az rolls her eyes."No code words necessary, Uncle Evan. For once, I am exactly where I wantto be. I'm with friends. I have a favor to ask."

"For you or forthese friends of yours?" Shica asks.

The way he sneers theword 'friends' incites a chorus of growls. Az slaps her hand over themouthpiece of the phone and glares at all of us. I admit that it's a prettyfierce glare. It doesn't faze me in the slightest, but it works well on theothers. That's one lesson Greta can skip.

"For me,"she lies without compunction. "You know how I like to keep my… uniqueness…under wraps. The garden-variety witches around here won't have a clue, but ifthere's someone stronger, older, then my secret could be at risk. I'm not realkeen on a repeat of the Annapolis incident."

Maryland. Another"M" state. Why am I not surprised? Princess and I will be discussingthe "Annapolis incident" as soon as I'm sober enough to hear thetale. Or maybe a little drunker than I am now so that I don't set off forMaryland with a pit stop in New Orleans along the way.

"Someone fromthe old families would have enough power to recognize your abilities. Give me amoment, dear heart." After a few moments, Shica returns to the phone. Herattles off a list of five names. Az checks the spelling on each one, givingGreta time to write them down.

"Thank you,Uncle Evan." She chews on the fingernails on her right hand for a second.Her eyes are fixed on the watercolor near the door. "There was a spikerecently. It tasted like the Rite of Yulaga."

Shica's laughter is alittle too jovial. Too forced. "That's a forbidden rite, Astraea."

"I know."

"It could havebeen the Rite of Divad. When your father was a child, he used to confuse thetwo all the time."

It's clear from theexpression on her face that Az isn't buying that explanation. She doesn'tcontradict Shica, though. "Could be. Thank you for the names, Uncle Evan.I'll be sure to steer clear of them."

"Dearestgirl," Shica murmurs before she can end the call. "These friends ofyours, will they protect you?"

Az's eyes dart tomine. Well, that's insulting. She nods at me. "Yes. They would."

"To thedeath?"

What the hell kind ofa question is that? I don't like the direction this conversation is taking.There are many reasons Shica could have for asking that question. It would benice to believe that he's asking out of concern for his beloved goddaughter'swellbeing. I don't live in that ideal hearts-and-flowers world, though.

"Yes," Azanswers. "If it came down to it, they would."

"It may, mydear. It may very well." Shica heaves a sigh. "Do call soon, Astraea.Your aunt and I worry about you. I did not always approve of your father'smethods, but he did his best to protect you from those would use you or harmyou."

"Give AuntEvelyn my love," she responds, ignoring the last half of his statement.Connection cut, she sets the phone on the side table and scoots so that herfeet are flat on the floor.

The call went betterthan I'd expected. Just because he hadn't named his price, I don't for a momentbelieve that Shica won't demand a favor in the future. Jose abandons hisattempt to braid Tommy's hair and flings himself at Az. The little shit showsoff by fully Shifting mid-air. It's a trick he's recently mastered. At least hedoesn’t bust up the coffee table this time.

Princess ignores thefact that the ocelot cuddled against her could take her face off with one swipeof his massive front paws. She strokes behind Jose's ears. The purring is loudenough to make the floor rumble.

"The nuns I stayedwith in Evansville had a margay. I used to play with her all the time,"she starts hopefully.

"No way,Princess. We already have one pretty kitty. We don't need another."

"Hey," Hankprotests half-heartedly.

"Sorry,man."

"Noproblem."

Az bats Jose's tailaway from her eyes and meets my gaze with surprising solemnity. "It's goodthat he asked about me, right? He cares about how well I'm beingprotected."

"Sure. That orhe's trying to determine how big an army he'll need to drag you away fromus."

"Oh."

The crestfallen lookon her face is like a punch to my gut. I get the importance of familyand how it hurts to lose it. "He's going to need a big damn army,Princess. Fucking huge. No one tears apart my pack."