Alchemy's Hunger: Wyrd Love, #4

By Cynthia Diamond

After escaping the terrors of his dark cabal, Tony Harris craves redemption. With just one ritual, he could resurrect the mother he accidentally killed. All he needs is a Conduit; a being that holds an endless well of magic. But when the Conduit turns out to be a quirky, optimistic woman named Faith, his world is turned upside-down. Now Tony must choose: bring Cybil Constance back to life, or give his heart to someone who believes in him. With the cabal hot on his tail, Tony is unsure he'll survive long enough to make the choice.

Faith Conway longs to forget her abusive ex-boyfriend but between the emotional scars, and an overprotective mother, she has lost all confidence in herself. Now, thrust into a strange place called the Wyrd, a devastatingly handsome mage appears to protect her. All she has to do is help him with one mysterious, magical ritual. Despite his smooth promises, Faith wonders if Tony's motives are honorable, or if his devilish smile will only lead to more heartbreak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cynthia Diamond
• Release date: Apr 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781545130049

Cynthia Diamond

Since she was a child, Cynthia craved anything that featured heroines with strong personalities. Now she writes books for sassy nerds with a sharp sense of humor. Starting her adult life in theater, she earned a Masters of Fine Arts in Costume Design, but her first love was telling stories. After some encouragement, she dove down the rabbit hole and created the Wyrd Love series.  When not telling tales about hot dragons and werewolves with tight behinds, Cynthia is an SCA geek and an amateur artist. She resides in sunny San Diego, California with her husband Max, two cats of varying intelligence, and a ton of goldfish.

Book preview

Alchemy’s Hunger

Wyrd Love: Book 4

Cynthia Diamond

C:\Users\320229\Downloads\AlchemyBookCover2.jpg

Artwork by Lynne Anderson

Copyright © 2017 by Cynthia Diamond

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Book Layout © 2014 BookDesignTemplates.com

Alchemy’s Hunger/ Cynthia Diamond.—1st ed.

ISBN 978-1545130049

To Stacy, who stayed up late to read my texts about this story, even on work nights. It wouldn’t have happened without you.

Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling and all references are made because I’m a fangirl.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Epilogue

Chapter 1

NO ONE WOULD EVEN NOTICE if he was gone.

Tony rubbed the space between his eyes, his temples burning as the echoing words brought his brain to a screeching halt. An ice pick through the skull would have felt better than Adam invading his thoughts but the bastard wouldn’t shut up. Had Adam had a body, Tony would have wrung his neck, but instead, he squinted through the pain at the pinch faced stranger that had blocked his way.

The man didn’t look like much of a threat: young, skinny, and chances were only versed in rudimentary magic, like most average mages. Tony would have given the idiot a pass if he had just been posturing. Chest thumpers were all too common in the Wyrd. Unfortunately, the dumbass knew who Tony was. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have said what he had said.

Could you repeat that? Tony asked the stranger, tapping the bridge of his nose.

The fiery pain returned when Adam’s voice boomed through Tony’s mind. I said, no one would-

I wasn’t asking you! Tony thought back in a hiss.

The misery surged then faded, and the test tube resting in Tony’s breast pocket vibrated then stilled.

Blissful silence.

This would be the last time he’d carry Adam around with him in public. Alas, he was a necessary evil. Adam was the only one that could help him. Granted, it was by force, but he still gave good leads when not tormenting Tony with migraines and mind games.

Your cabal, the pinched faced moron replied. He wiped an ink stained hand across his pointed chin, his smugness palpable. They’re looking for you.

With the headache dissipating, Tony regained himself. That tells me two things, he said. One, you understand who I am and why it’s a very bad idea to challenge me. And two, that you’re unaware that I’ve killed my entire cabal.

A lie, Adam said, his voice a piercing reverb.

Tony sighed. Does it matter?

You only killed me, and not completely. Drake may still live and Shadow was destroyed by the Constance-

I could go without your commentary.

"They’re not all dead, Harris," Pinched Face said, a decent amount of disgust pressed onto Tony’s last name.

Tony fought the roll of his eyes.  Yes, they are.

Well, rumor is your leader, Shadow, was killed by a halfblooded Valkyrie.

Not my leader anymore, Tony thought, hoping Adam had receded far enough that he couldn’t hear him. The twinge at the base of his skull said otherwise.

But the woman, Pinched Face continued. The chain smoker with the bad attitude? She’s still up and around. Been hitting different communities, asking for the whereabouts of an Anthony Harris.

He opened his palm and with a wiggle of his fingers, a flickering image of Tony hovered over his hand. Tony sighed. It looked like a damn mug shot. When the hell was that picture taken?

Pinched face smiled. Funny, he looks a lot like you.

A chill clutched Tony’s gut, twisting it into a knot.  He breathed the name Drake, before slapping a glamour of indifference over his face. Pinched Face didn’t seem to notice his slip up.

Lucy Drake was alive. Alive and looking for him. Searching for Tony seemed to be entirely too much effort for her, but when she wanted revenge, Lucy was a Pitbull with a mailman’s pant leg.

Tony wanted to dismiss the mage before him. Just a flick of his wrist and he’d melt his mind with a simple spell as punishment. But Tony needed to know more.

He slipped a hand behind his back, palm igniting with blue sparks. If Pinched Face made one wrong move, even said one wrong word, Tony would turn him into ash without a thought. But the sounds of afternoon traffic and the voices of others filled his ears. His spell winked out. No, this was the wrong time and definitely the wrong place.

Losing your nerve? Adam asked.

There are too many Mundanes around, Tony replied.

That never stopped you from killing before.

Clearly you have me confused with everyone else from our cabal.

Murder had never been Tony’s cup of tea even on his worst days. The idea of murdering innocent souls in a cross fire made his stomach fill with bile. No. Never again. He flicked the test tube in his breast pocket and Adam’s shout of anguish filled him with pleasure. Mollified, Tony folded his arms and fixed a dark stare on Pinched Face. When that wormy bastard flinched, Tony didn’t bother to hide his smile. Well, at least his reputation continued to follow him.

So you spoke to Lucy Drake? Tony asked. Before the mage could answer, he held up his fingers, green swirls of death magic weaving between them. "Think hard before lying to me."

The mage’s over-sized apple bobbed as he swallowed, then he visibly gathered his boldness, and squared his shoulders. No, I didn’t speak with her. Not directly.

"So, she is not in the Bay Area." Tony shoved the threatening hand into the pocket of his gray slacks, holding in a sigh of relief. He traveled to Northern California to hide, not start a war. Unfortunately, Drake was sending out her lackeys. And here he thought things were finally quieting down.

All I know is she is looking for you. Hard. Pinched Face scratched his nails over his stubble encrusted jaw, then grinned. And well, it would be a damn shame if she found you.

What’s your name? Tony asked.

Richard.

Richard. May I call you Dick? When Richard’s face turned red, Tony sighed. Look, Dick, blackmail doesn’t become our kind. We’re already frowned upon in the Wyrd as it is.

I could give a shit about the rest of the Wyrd, Harris. And could care less about you. But Drake is offering a lot for your location. Money, knowledge...

And you look like quite the knowledge hound, Tony smirked. I bet the backs of those cereal boxes are very enlightening.

Dick pretended that Tony’s quip didn’t bother him, but the twitch in his eyelid said otherwise. Go on, be smug, but I got you by the balls.

People will say we’re in love, Dick, Tony said.

"I’m willing to let you slide if you want to offer even more-"

Pass.

A squeaky giggle tore from Dick’s throat. Then I guess I’ll have to send the info to her then.

Tony smiled, his dark irises swirling with threads of silver. Tendrils of his mind magic oozed towards Dick as his eyes hypnotically churned. You don’t want to do that, Tony said, his voice smooth as silk.

Dick chuckled, unfazed by the spell. Yeah, I do. He reached under the collar of his shirt and pulled out a gold talisman that hung around his neck. You think I didn’t come to this fight prepared?

The spell faded and Tony narrowed his eyes. Drake must have warned Dick about his talent in mind magic. Dammit, he had underestimated this Dick, figuring he’d be like most mages that skirted the edge of the dark side; inexperienced and weak willed.

So, it’s back to plan A then? Adam chimed in, his voice as sharp as daggers.

No one is getting killed so shut up.

Tony lifted his chin, feigning a cool demeanor. I’m feeling magnanimous, so I’m going to let this whole incident pass. With elegant fingers, he straightened his blue striped tie and stepped away. Breathe a word of my location to Drake or anyone else, I will find you.

That’s it? Dick’s mocking laugh made Tony bristle. That’s all you got? You’re supposed to be gifted in all three magical branches. I expected you to be more badass.

Tony rubbed his forehead. I’m above vulgar displays of magic in front of Mundanes.

Dick held out his palms, sparks flying with bright cobalt pops. I’m not.

Tony’s own hands crackled to life. Don’t push me, Dick.

It’s Richard!

No. You’ll always be a Dick.

Dick bared his teeth. All right, let’s dance, asshole.

Tony’s expression went flat. Did you just say let’s dance? Really?

Okay, he thought to Adam. I can see your point about plan A.

Tony tucked his hands back into his pockets, still not willing to attack. Yes, he could crush this pathetic blackmailer with his pinky if he wanted -and part of him really wanted- but he had lost his taste for bloodshed a long time ago. Instead of running from the challenge, like most would have done, Dick only chuckled.

No, you’re not worth the effort, Tony said and turned to stroll away.

Something sharp jabbed his ribs. Tony froze, shifting his gaze down to the knife pressed against his suit jacket. Dick slipped beside him, one hand tight on the handle, the other on Tony’s shoulder.

I thought you wanted a duel in broad daylight, Tony said. But hey, if blatant violence is more your thing-

I’m warded from head to toe, Harris. You try any tricks, well...

The blade broke through the fabric as Dick leaned in. It grazed Tony’s skin, burning with a stinging fire.

Poisoned.

Tony groaned.

Fantastic.

Dick nudged him forward and Tony reluctantly took a step, his hands balled into fists, his mind whirling through the hundreds of spell books he had committed to memory. Their pages flipped, words swirling in black and white as he struggled to find a non-violent spell to help him escape. Unfortunately, none came to mind.

Warded against your mind magic, Adam said. Probably warded against force magic as well. Looks like Drake gave him plenty of information. That only leaves death magic, doesn’t it?

I am not casting anymore death magic! Tony’s eyes rolled back until only the whites showed, his body twitching as he fell into conversation with Adam. No death. No madness. No more killing. It’s not happening.

Adam chuckled. Well, not yet. I’ll wait.

You’ll be waiting a long time.

What the hell is wrong with you? Dick demanded. Why are you twitching like that?

No one will even notice that he’s gone, Adam whispered. Just one flick of your wrist and poof, your problem is solved. Do you want to be caught under this worm’s boot heel? He’s useless to you. Useless to everyone. Murdering one blackmailing idiot won’t matter at all.

Tony’s eyes snapped into place and he turned a glare on Dick, rage burning inside his belly. Sparks flew from his fingertips.

Adam was right. Once again Tony was caught under someone’s heel. Once again his life was dangling from someone else’s whim. Sweat beaded his forehead as that deeply seated hate began to rise.

So tempting to end a life, to crush that sniveling bastard with a breath. One less piece of shit in this world taking up space. Dick jabbed his knife harder, pushing Tony’s patience into the abyss. That son of a bitch thought he could push him around? He was nothing. A nobody compared to Tony’s power and pedigree.

Adam was right.

No one would notice if Dick was gone.

Tony lifted his hand letting the death magic flow.

Jim? A feminine voice asked.

Tony jerked his head up, fog lifting from his vision to reveal a small, willowy brunette, one hand holding a large cup of coffee and the other gripping the strap of a bright yellow messenger bag. He froze, dousing the emerald light in his palm.

The woman’s large, gray eyes darted between him and Dick before she continued. Jim Swanson, right? She gave Tony a winning smile and straightened her purple knit cap. You went to San Francisco State?

Huh? Tony replied. Not the most elegant of responses, but this was not the most elegant of situations.

The pressure from the knife let up and Dick gawked as well, shifting his body to hide the weapon. Their bafflement didn’t ruffle the woman’s feathers one bit and she laughed, pressing a hand against her chest.

It’s me! Faith Conway! We sat next to each other in human sexuality class! she said. We used to have lunch together in the student union, remember? You always teased me about getting those godawful burritos from the vendor downstairs. She turned to Dick. Sorry to interrupt, but it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. When her attentions returned to Tony, she gave him a quick wink.

Tony snorted, then fell into her game. Oh! Faith, yeah. Faith. Now I remember, he said. How are you and your... burritos?

Faith laughed. Oh shut up, jerkface!

Jerk...face? Tony arched a brow.

Who the hell are you? Dick growled.

I told you! I’m Faith Conway. Me and Jim here are old friends! Faith reached up and gave Tony’s nose a little tweak. Honestly, I would have dated you if I hadn’t been with another guy at the time. Dear God, Jim. You are still handsome.

And you’re still...

Tony looked her over. She wasn’t a remarkable beauty but she was pretty in an awkward, earthy way. Small and slender, with high cheekbones and a short bob of chocolate colored hair that fell in waves just below her jaw. He could have mistaken her for one of the fae, or at least an elf if he only gave her a passing glance. Her features were graceful, almost ethereal...

But she had ridiculous taste in clothing. Faith was clad in neon pink skinny jeans, a baggy sweater vomited over with rainbow hearts, and a pair of scuffed combat boots. Around her neck was a chunky necklace of chipped rhinestones, the brass chain tarnished. Faith Conway looked like she had wrestled a Goodwill and lost. Horribly.

Tony squinted, studying Faith with a mage’s sight. No aura. He felt no magic coming from her and saw no tell-tale signs of the Wyrd. So, she was a human. A Mundane who had no idea what she was dealing with. Still, awful fashion sense or not, Faith was a perfect distraction.  The corner of his mouth curled.

You’re still lovely, Faith, he said.

Aw, come here!

She flung her free arm around his shoulders and hugged him tight. Tony stiffened. The last time anyone had gotten that close was to stick a knife in him. He glanced towards Dick. Case in point, he thought.

Faith’s messenger bag bumped him further into Dick’s blade and Tony grunted as the poisoned tip scraped his side, setting his flesh on fire. Her warm breath brushed against his ear as she whispered, I don’t think he’s buying it. Should I call the cops?

Oh yes, she was definitely a Mundane.

Enough of this! Dick shouted.

He pushed Faith away and she stumbled off the curb, coffee sloshing over her fingers. Faith yelped, quickly switching the steaming cup to her other hand so she could wipe the burning one on her sweater. Tony scowled. He curled his fingers, knuckles cracking.

Get the fuck out of here, lady! Dick screeched.

Faith put a hand up as she approached, undaunted despite the fear that flickered in her gaze. No need to get pushy. I just wanted to talk to Jim.

His name isn’t Jim Samson!

Swanson, Faith corrected.

Who the fuck cares?! It’s not his name!

Dick, Tony snarled through his teeth. Be a gentleman.

It’s Richard! And you’re in no place to give me orders, Harris! He clutched the back of Tony’s jacket. Now move it!

Wait! Faith cried.

Dick spun, eyes blazing. What!?

Faith took a timid step forward. She bit her lower lip then said, Um, do you like coffee?

Oh, I’ve had it with-

Dick’s words were cut short when Faith yanked the lid off her cup and threw the boiling contents into his face. The back-splash sprinkled Tony with steaming, tan droplets. Dick dropped his knife and grabbed his eyes, staggering blind into the brick building behind him. Tony was about to blow Dick’s shriveled face into the next state when Faith grabbed his arm and gave it a firm yank.

Come on! she squealed, voice shaking.

She took off in a sprint. Stunned, Tony could only stumble after her. He looked over his shoulder to watch Dick clawing at his face, brown liquid dribbling down his now scarlet cheeks.

Not how I imagined you’d get out of that situation, Adam said.

Tony nodded absently, turning his attentions to Faith as she dragged him down the street. And now I want to know where it’s going, he answered.

Their feet pounded the pavement dodging pedestrians to shouts of Hey watch it! in their wake. Faith batted at them, calling Sorry! Sorry! So very sorry! as she pushed her way through a gaggle of teenagers. Tony’s ire turned to intrigue, wondering what else this woman in awful clothing had in store.

Tony slammed into her back when Faith skidded to a stop, the two tripping forward with a grunt. He snagged her before she swan-dove onto the street and pulled her upright, her short, dark hair slapping him in the face.

The smell of fresh ground coffee and sugar hit him so hard that he almost flinched. It was exhilarating, sending a jolt of energy right into his fingertips. Before he realized it, he had hauled her close to sneak a second whiff of that heavenly aroma, his mouth watering.

Faith didn’t seem perturbed by the hand he had pressed against her belly, but she wiggled free, yanked a set of keys from her bag, and unlocked the door to a rusty green Volkswagen Beetle parked on the street.

Get in! she said.

Tony swiped an arm across his cheek, attempting to wipe away the oncoming blush. Your car? he asked.

Duh! Faith slid into the driver’s seat, leaning over to pop the lock on the passenger door.

With a click of his teeth, Tony closed his gaping mouth. Trap? Trick? Maybe this Mundane woman was working with Lucy to lure him to her. He reached out his feelers again, expecting to find a hex on the car but it was just as unremarkable as the woman in the driver’s seat. Tony let out a little chuckle.

What the hell? he mumbled in amusement.

Faith gestured with a frantic arm. Get in! He’s probably right on our tail!

Tony craned his head, spying Dick two blocks away, still rolling on the ground and wailing. He should have healed himself by now. Dumbass.

I’m pretty sure he’s not a problem, he said.

What if he has friends? Faith jammed her key in the ignition and the bug started up with a clunk, thud, vrrooooooom! What if his friends have guns?

You watch a lot of crime dramas on television, don’t you? Tony asked.

When her cheeks flushed, and she said, "I like Criminal Minds, he snorted. Just get in the car, please?" Faith begged.

The crease between those round gray eyes deepened as she clutched her steering wheel. When her lips turned down into a sad frown, Tony blinked. She was worried. Genuinely worried.

About him.

That was unexpected.

Tony glanced back down the street. Dick was finally standing, wiping the coffee from his eyes and looking furious. He began running towards them, long limbs swinging, greasy hair flapping in the wind. He stretched out a hand as his magic gathered into a tight swirling ball.

Shit, Tony groaned.

It was either drive off with this Faith, or commit a murder he had no stomach for. Tony slid into the passenger seat, which made Faith’s wide mouth split into a relieved smile. She slammed her foot on the gas and they took off before he could shut the door, leaving Dick coughing in a black cloud of exhaust. The thud of a force spell hitting the street behind them shook the car, but luckily, Faith was too busy watching the road to notice the magical bomb.

She gave a low whistle. I saw him pull the knife from across the street while I was dropping some stuff off at the post office, she said. Are you hurt? Did he get your wallet?

He wasn’t after my wallet, Tony said, then gave her a nod. I’m fine. It was a personal thing.

Faith chewed on her lower lip, her eyes sliding over to him before snapping back to the road. Do you work for the mob?

Laughter squirted right out of him, and Tony leaned his head back against the seat, grabbing his belly. The mob? Are you serious?

Faith blushed. Well can you fault me for thinking that? Have you looked in a mirror?

His laughter evaporated. While Faith was preoccupied with avoiding a pedestrian, Tony snuck a peek at himself in the review mirror. She was right, he looked like a thug with those deep scars on his cheeks. And his expensive suit would scream high end criminal to a Mundane. Well, in a way he was a criminal. At least in the Wyrd, he’d be considered one.

The fact that you would associate our cabal with criminal activity is a crime itself, Adam said.

Tony frowned. You were all fucking evil as far as I’m concerned.

We were acting in the greater good.

Acting like genocidal maniacs, really.

Feeling guilt by association, Anthony? Remember, you helped us.

Faith jerked the wheel and Tony fell against the car door, his head bouncing off the window with a clang. The collision shut Adam’s trap and he was grateful, despite the bruise he’d have later.

Faith glanced to him. Put your seatbelt on!

Tony grumbled, pulling the strap across his chest and clicking it into place. Where are you taking me? he asked.

I don’t know. Where do you need to be? She smiled as she swerved around a bus.

Tony slammed his hands on the dashboard. Not in this car, right now, he replied, trying not to appear terrified by her complete disregard of traffic laws.

She only giggled nervously.

Which was concerning.

I’ll drop you off at your home if you like, or your... safe house? she said.

I’m not a criminal!

I promise I won’t tell anyone I met you. I swear it. Just don’t take your hitman vendetta out on me or my loved ones, okay? she said. Tony rubbed his temples. When he groaned, Faith hissed. That wasn’t a yes. Yikes.

Six blocks down will do, was his only reply.

But what about-

No one is getting- Tony made quotes with his fingers. Wacked.

Faith nodded, slowing the bug down at a red light. Well, less like slowing and more like slamming to a halt with the tires squealing. She stuck out a hand to shake. I’m Faith.

So you told me.

I’m going to assume your name isn’t Jim Swanson.

Definitely not Jim Swanson.

Tony stared at the outstretched hand, then took it. When his fingers curled around hers, all he felt was the warm touch of her palm, reminding him how long it had been since he had touched anyone in a benign manner.

"So what is your name then? A horn blasted behind them and Faith jumped, slamming her lead foot back on the gas. Whoops."

Do you drive often? Tony asked. You seem to be a beginner at this.

Been driving since I was eighteen. When she turned the wrong way down a one-way street, Tony knew sarcasm was lost on her. You still haven’t told me your name.

Despite not paying attention to the road, Faith was definitely paying attention to him. With Lucy Drake on the hunt, anyone familiar with his face and name was trouble. Big trouble. Tony clutched his seatbelt tightly as she honked at the oncoming car who had the right of way.

You know? You can just drop me off at the next light, he said.

You sure?

When she ran a stop sign to a symphony of blaring car horns, Tony nodded vigorously. Very sure.

Okie dokie then. As soon as they approached the next light, Faith turned onto a quiet street and pulled over to the curb. Look, I don’t mind dropping you off at your place, she said. I have nowhere to go.

It’s not necessary.

She shrugged. Well then, have a good night. And be careful, okay? She smiled at him, brushing a few strands of hair from her eyes.

Tony nodded, about to escape her death mobile but he paused. Be careful, she said. This complete stranger wanted him to be careful. A lump thickened in his throat. He gritted his teeth and opened the door, one foot hitting the sidewalk.

Get out of the seat. Get out of the seat and walk away. You don’t have time for this.

Tony shut his eyes, not caring that Adam was listening in on his thoughts. Listening and probably chortling.

You all right? Faith asked.

Her sweet chirpy voice cut his mantra in two and he sighed, shoulders slumping. He didn’t turn to face her, just stared out at the neatly styled ranch homes that lined the block.

Why did you help me? he asked.

There was a pause. Tony expected no answer.

I don’t like bullies, Faith replied.

A smile slipped across his lips, despite himself. That makes two of us.

Without further ado, he pulled himself out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Then he glanced over his shoulder, probably the worst thing he could have done. Faith was staring right at him; eyes glittering with threads of silver and blue, that wide mouth turned up into a broad crescent.

Goddammit, he muttered then knocked on the window.

Faith unbuckled her seatbelt, and leaned across the seats, her arm jerking in circles as she rolled the window down with the old-school crank. Yeah?

Tony. My name is Tony, he said then shuddered, at his confession.

Nice to meet you. She stuck her arm through the cracked window, offering an awkward hand.

Tony snorted then took her fingers, finding her position too twisted for a proper shake. There it was again. Contact. No aggression. No tricks. No hexes. Just plain old contact. Before he grew comfortable with the concept, Faith straightened in her seat and buckled up.

I know you’re the strong, silent type and all, but if you ever need a place to hide out from your crime rivals, I work at Cuppa Jane’s. It’s the coffee shop over on San Pablo Avenue. Faith pushed her cap forward on her head, probably to straighten it. She failed. I mean, we can’t offer protection-

Faith, I am not in organized crime, Tony groaned.

Still, if you want to drop in or need someplace to just, I donno, hide out? I work Monday through Friday and make the best latte in El Cerrito. Probably the world, actually. She laughed, rubbing the back of her neck. I don’t know why I told you that. Crap, now I feel awkward.

I agree. That was awkward, Tony said. Maybe. We’ll see.

Sure, Faith smiled, taking her car out of park. Take care of yourself. And good luck with your hitman career!

I’m not a... Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, waving her off. Sure. Thanks.

Faith wiggled her fingers in a little wave, then pulled away and barreled around the corner, burning rubber. Tony watched the rusted car as it disappeared, a ragged trail of exhaust fumes following her. Well, that was unexpected. Not unpleasant but not exactly pleasant either. Just... odd. He stared at the tire marks on the blacktop, his thumb passing over the scars on his cheeks; first the left one, then the right.

Feeling sentimental today? Adam asked.

Tony scowled as his grim reality slapped him in the face. She works in a Mundane coffee shop. Mages are less likely to cause a stir when surrounded by regular humans. A connection with her may be good. She might be useful.

To your plans or to your baser human urges?

Spare me. I’ve given up on that. She’s a tool. Nothing more.

Tony’s mind went blank, then visions of Faith’s naked body flashed in full Technicolor. She was writhing, legs wrapped around his hips as he pounded between her thighs. He heard her moans, felt that generous mouth suckling his neck. Tony’s head fell back and he groaned at the feel of her wet sex tight around his shaft. Then it was gone and he was standing on the sidewalk alone, hard as stone and aching for release.

Fuck! Tony whispered, trying to hide the erection that was now making itself known to the public. He adjusted himself, head turning this way and that for any lookie-loos who might have witnessed his sudden bout of lust. The empty streets made him sigh in relief.

Adam’s shallow laughter rolled in his ears. That bastard was playing with his mind again. It wasn’t the first time he’d made Tony’s thoughts turn to lust, or murder, or pants-wetting fear. Tony reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the test tube to give it a glare. The swirling cloud inside the glass flickered yellow, then blue, a strange, spinning galaxy held captive by wax and a cork.

You want me to shake your tube again, don’t you, Tony thought. Keep it up. I’ll throw you under a truck tire.

Adam chuckled. You won’t. Not until you find a Conduit. And you know I’m qualified to help you find one.

It’s been a year and I’m no closer to finding a Conduit than before. Time is running out.

Or perhaps you’re closer than you realize.

Tony tensed, his jaw clenching in anticipation. Are you saying you found one? You drag me to this tiny city, tell me there’s one here, and all I found was a chest thumping idiot and a lady hipster clown. Now tell me, yes or no. Did you find one?!

Adam paused as if choosing his words. I’m saying I’m currently useful to you.

Tony pursed his lips, then carefully slid the tube back into his breast pocket. Then shut your mouth and do your job.

Adam went quiet. At least he took one order seriously. As much as he yearned to bury Adam under twelve feet of cement, Tony needed him. With one foot in the living world and the other in the land of the dead, Adam could detect things Tony couldn’t. Like a Conduit. And a Conduit couldn’t be seen by the naked eye or with mage sight. No, their power was buried deep. The sure-fire way to find one was by casting magic and waiting for it to be physically attracted to them. Unfortunately, Tony couldn’t go around, throwing spells near every living soul and hope for the best. He needed Adam’s eyes. But when he talked in vague terms, burying him sounded mighty tempting.

Tony’s gaze returned to the fresh tire marks as Faith’s words haunted him

Be careful.

Take care of yourself.

The last person who’d shown that much concern for him was...

Sadness clutched him, and Tony rubbed his sternum as if trying push that horrible ache away. He shuddered, shutting his eyes to block out the memories.

Make me proud, Cybil’s voice whispered to him.

He clenched his jaw. You’re going to fix this, Harris. You’re going to bring her back.

Exhaustion covered him like a wet blanket. It always did whenever he thought about his mother.

Shall we continue our hunt? Adam asked.

Tony shook his head. No. I’m done for the day.

He ran his fingers over the thick scars on his cheeks, locking the memories deep. They’d come out to torment him soon enough. They always did.

Cuppa Jane’s. He tucked that name in the back of his mind for later use. Yes, that could be a useful refuge in the future. Tony nodded, clapped his hands, and in a swirl of glimmering sparks, vanished from the sidewalk.

Chapter 2

SON OF A- ARG!

Faith looked down, finding one foot clad in a red Mary Jane and the other in a black and green running shoe. It shouldn’t have surprised her because it was the third time this had happened. Last week it was a bunny slipper and a boot. The week before that, a sandal and a ballet flat.

In her defense, it was four in the morning. Usually, she didn’t get into work until six, but with Mikey gone for the week, her mother needed help with the morning rush. Showing up yet again with mismatched shoes would probably send her mother into another downward spiral of worry.

Faith tied her apron, wondering if she’d have enough time to run back to her apartment and fix her fashion don’t, but the bell over the door jingled and Janice Conway walked in, locking the door behind her. Well, that plan was nixed. Faith took a side step behind the counter, hiding her shoes as Janice slowed to remove her coat.

The woman was pushing sixty, but still sported her peasant blouses and boot cut jeans as confidently as any twenty-year-old. Her waist length brown hair was streaked with silver, and her figure was zaftig, heavier around the hips due to her love of pastries. It was a far cry from Faith’s waifish body. Faith frowned, pressing her hands against her bony hips, forever tormented by the phrase, Eat a sandwich!

They shared the same gray eyes, something Janice touted proudly, especially when the subject of Faith’s birth father came up. Janice always said, Thank God you got your looks from me. Which led Faith to believe that her father was some sort of gargoyle.

Morning, Mom! Faith gave Janice a peck on the cheek as the older woman rounded the counter. The counters are cleaned, the machines are running, and the cash is in the register.

Janice blinked. Wow. Is it my birthday?

Faith just shrugged. I was awake, so, I got here early.

Janice folded her arms, the crinkles around her eyes deepening. You could have tried going back to sleep, Faith. Your shift doesn’t start for two more hours.

I feel better when I’m useful. Faith turned to avoid her mother’s scrutinizing gaze but she still felt it aggravating her like only a mother’s stare could. And we are down one Mikey, so I figured coming in early would be better for everyone.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, Angel, but you need sleep, Janice said.

Faith tried not to shudder at the nickname.

It’s your mom’s endearment, not his.

I’m fine, she said. I swear it. It’s just nervous energy.

For six months?

Faith answered with a weak giggle. Sleeping for an hour then bouncing off the walls for the rest of the night had become her new normal. Hence her early morning attack on Cuppa Jane’s. It was either pace the floors of her apartment, or suck it up and get things done. On the plus side, it had kept her nightmares away and she still had her usual energy. Faith gave the counter yet another wipe down, humming a loud chorus to Abba’s Waterloo, hoping the overly enthusiastic disco tune would throw Janice’s paranoia off.

I have some Valerian Root and Saint John’s Wart for you to try, Janice said, following close on Faith’s heels.

Well, that didn’t work.

Saint John’s Wart makes me depressed. You know that, Faith replied. Janice had practically force fed the junk to her when she was still seeing he-who-must-not-be-mentioned. If only the depression had come from the herb. That same cold chill crept up her back. She shook it off.

No. You are not getting into my head today, asshole.

Mom, it’s not a big deal. Faith gave her one of her chipper smiles. The one that said everything was hunky dory. So I haven’t been sleeping. Some people just don’t need a lot of sleep. I’ve been totally fine otherwise. When Janice scowled down to her mismatched shoes, Faith quickly scuttled behind a table. Well, maybe I’m a little bit scatterbrained, but that’s it!

Scatterbrained?

Well, yeah.

Janice snorted. Faith, this is more than just being a little scatterbrained.

Mom, it’s nothing! Faith bit the inside