Veiled Spirits

“Yep. I had an extra one. Thanks for those, by the way. They’re super helpful.” While I’ve worked with Anya for years, I’m still not good enough at potion making to make them myself.

Anya hums before turning her too insightful gaze on me. “And what would Rhys need his magicless sister to be disguised for?”

“Oh, you know, a little this and that.” I look away from Anya as I lie. While I’m lying to protect her, it still makes me feel slimy. Anya is one of the few people I like in Hawthorne Grove. She gave me a chance when no one else would, and she deserves honestly. Knowing my secret will only get her killed, so I have to do what’s necessary to protect her.

Anya hums in disbelief but doesn’t push it. “And you’re working on your special project again.”

It’s not a question, but I answer, anyway. “Yeah.”

She sighs and places one wrinkled hand on my forearm. “It won’t work, dearie. I’ve been around for one hundred and forty years, and this type of magic cannot be done.”

Panic coils around and tightens my airways until I’m gasping for breath. Failing isn’t an option with this potion. Making it is the only way everyone will be safe. I have to make it work.

“There’s a first time for everything, Anya.” I try to keep my voice light, but it comes out choked up instead.

Anya turns away to study the potion once more. Moving surprisingly quickly for her age, Anya hurries to the back room. She comes back with a few ceramic jars and puts them on the counter in front of me. Grabbing one, she opens it and walks over to my potion. “Have you tried dried marigold?”

“No, I haven’t. The recipes I’ve seen haven’t suggested it.”

“Well, we’ll need to go off recipe if we want a result the recipe doesn’t promise, now, won’t we?” She waits for my nod before moving closer to the potion. Anya meticulously measures the marigold powder before adding it in stages to the potion. Chanting something I can’t make out, Anya’s signature forest green magic flares in the mixture for a moment before fading.

“You think it will do anything?” I can’t keep the hope out of my voice, even though I’ve tried so many different ingredients to get it to work.

“I don’t know. The only way to find out is to try. We tried, and now we have to wait.” As Anya finishes speaking, the bell on the shop’s front door tinkles. Anya walks out front to greet the customer.

I stare at the potion a moment longer, willing it to work. Blowing out a breath, I settle in for an afternoon of waiting for the potion to work and Cain to pick me up for our rescheduled date.

CHAPTER 20

CAIN

“You said we were just going to talk to them!” Bishop shouts in exasperation at Archer. It’s hard to make out his voice over the bursts of automatic gunfire from the approximately twenty men across the warehouse from us. Due to Bishop’s shield encasing the three of us, we’re relatively safe. At least for now.

“It’s not my fault they didn’t want to talk to us!” Archer counters with a grin. Pausing to reload his M4 carbine, Archer fires at the men protecting the weapons crates once more. He’s enjoying himself much more than Bishop is.

“Considering you stole from them last month, I would say it is your fault,” I chime in.

Bishop glares at Archer, who just rolls his eyes. Archer frequently drags the mage into chaotic situations without warning him beforehand. It’s only Bishop’s quick thinking that has kept him alive this long while working with Archer.

Shaking my head at the two of them, I slip out from behind Bishop’s shield. I keep close to the wall and use the various crates scattered throughout the open industrial space as cover. While Bishop is fairly strong, he can’t hold the shield indefinitely. Archer keeps the men distracted, so it’s my job to incapacitate them.

Sneaking behind one of the shooters at the back, I lunge toward him and slap one hand over his mouth. With the other, I sink my blade into his vulnerable throat and sever his windpipe to prevent screaming. I tear through his carotid artery and jugular vein as well. A rare smile crosses my lips as I watch him choke on his own blood. When he finally goes limp, I drop his corpse to the dirty warehouse floor and stab him through the heart a few times.

I feel no remorse as I slowly work through the remaining men the same way. Instead of doing anything to help others, these panther shifters are content to sell automatic rifles and machine pistols to cartels, human traffickers, and the occasional dictator. Their deaths only make the world a better place.

When only five shifters remain, they start to realize something is wrong. Fools. I roll my eyes as they frantically search for whoever killed their associates. As they’re searching for me, Archer manages to pick off four of them. I glare at Archer when I step behind the last one and slit his throat. His warm blood sprays onto my forearms, already dripping with blood from the others.

“I had them handled, Archer.” I drop the last panther’s body to the ground and walk to one of the largest crates. Pulling off the top of it, I see the M4s and MAC 10s we were looking for. At least today wasn’t a bust like last night. We’ve been looking for these weapons for a week. I had to cancel my date with Isabel yesterday to go on another wild goose chase. She agreed to move our date to today, so we need to wrap this up quickly.

“Sorry for stealing your kills, man.” The shit-eating grin on Archer’s face tells a different story. He isn’t sorry in the least. Sighing, I ignore him to start inventorying the other crates. Bishop, Archer, and I split up to tackle three to four crates each.

“Where are these weapons going?” Bishop asks.

“To a handful of packs, clans, and mage towns in the south. The small groups of supernaturals are getting hit hard by the Knights of Aeneas right now. We’ll see how those fuckers like being subject to automatic weapons.” Archer bares his teeth at the thought of the Knights. They’re a human organization dedicated to wiping out anyone with magic. The Knights want to steal the magic for themselves, which usually means killing anyone who has it.

Since they have no honor, the Knights often use automatic weapons on unarmed shifters, mages, vampires, and others. While magic users all have their own inherent weapons, they’re not always enough when it comes to the Knights. We try to even the playing field by smuggling weapons to supernaturals across the country. The wealthier packs, clans, or towns will buy them from us, while the poorer ones get the guns for free. It’s not the most lucrative of our revenue streams, but it does arguably the most good.

“Can you two handle the rest of the inventory and clean up?” I ask as I finish with my last crate. “I need to get to my date with Isabel.”