Oh, they were so going to have a talk and soon. Moira shook her head.
Simone’s phone pealed from her pocket. She answered it and listened for a moment. “Are you serious? When in the world—” Then she put a hand to her forehead. “Ah, Trevan is here. Yes.” She shook her head. “Mother, we’ll talk about that later.”
Nostrils flaring, Simone hung up to glare at the demon. “You spoke with my mother.” Anger rolled her vowels into an Irish brogue.
Nick smiled. “It was wonderful to speak with good ole Viv. I think she’s mellowed through the years.”
Trevan frowned, glancing from Simone to Nick and then back.
“She wants to call a meeting with you.” Simone hissed, grabbing a remote and pointing it toward Brenna’s painting. A screen dropped from the ceiling. The chambers of the Coven Nine took shape.
Viv stood from the center of the dais. “Good. There you are. I’d like to call this special meeting of the Coven Nine to order. We must deal with the problem in Russia.” Her voice came through the screen loud and clear.
She squinted. “Oh. Yes. I’d forgotten Moira would be there. Well, change of plans. Moira, Conn, would you please excuse us?”
Surprise and unease battled for dominance inside Moira. Change of plans? She eyed her mother, whose expression had smoothed to diplomatic lines. “As an enforcer, surely you don’t want me to leave two members of our council with a demon.”
Viv cleared her throat. “Yes, well. The council has known Nikolaj Veis for a significant amount of time. We are confident in his assurance of safety today.”
“But you’re going to talk about Russia ...” There was no way a demon knew of the mines the witches had destroyed so many years ago. Or of the mineral buried in the land that could annihilate a witch.
The harsh lines in Viv’s face guaranteed someone had discovered the mines and found a way to the mineral, even after the witches had demolished the region, basically burying the mines.
Who was this guy everyone seemed to know so well?
Trevan cleared his throat. “Maybe the enforcer should stay. I mean, the Seventh.”
Simone cut him a glare. “We’ll be fine.” Taking a deep breath, she nodded at Moira. “Trust me. We’re in no danger.” She lifted her head, eyes focusing on the ceiling. Her features wrinkled in puzzlement. “Oh no. That’s unfortunate.” She turned to face Moira fully. “Do you feel that?”
Sharp nails pricked under Moira’s skin. Damn it all to hell. “Yes.” Somewhere near, a witch had just screwed up. Air turned to sandpaper along her arms, scraping and demanding. She eyed Conn. “We need to go.” Even if the council hadn’t ordered that very thing, she needed to go—though she would’ve left Conn to guard Simone.
Simone rubbed her arms. “Do you need backup, Moira?”
Moira started in surprise. While Simone wasn’t an enforcer, she’d probably gained some skills during her long life. The offer though, was unexpected. “No. I appreciate the thought, but Conn should suffice.”
Her mate growled, his focus still on the demon.
Moira rolled her eyes. Maybe suffice was a bit of an understatement.
Her boots echoing on the thick tiles, Moira walked toward Conn and grabbed his arm. That close to the demon, a tingle set up along the center of her brain. Just a mild zap. But enough to show serious power—a force being ruthlessly contained.
Nick stepped back.
Moira lifted an eyebrow, tugging Conn out of the penthouse.
The demon strode inside and shut the door.
Conn rubbed his chin. “I don’t like this.” A scowl turned down his mouth. “Why the hell is the skin on my arms screaming?”
They were in sync.
Moira pulled him down the walkway. “We have a problem.”
“Another one?”
Chapter 12
An unnatural silence settled over the Port of New York, devoid of wind or churn of sea. Cargo containers rusted in regimented order. Moira rested her hand against chinked steel. “We’re close.”
Conn cracked his neck. “I left you in silence the entire drive here so you could meditate. Now you tell me what’s going on.”
She needed Kell or Daire for backup, that’s what was going on. This was her first solo mission as an enforcer, and if the magic sparking through the air provided any indication, she might be out of her league.
“I appreciate the time to meditate.” She needed more time. “Basically, there’s someone here abusing magic.” A whole potful of it.
Conn frowned. “That explains the inactivity on the docks. Why does my skin burn?”
“Because my powers are yours.” She shoved back curls from her face. “When someone manipulates subatomic particles to a dramatic degree, the atmosphere changes enough that those of us with the correct genes can feel it like a magnet’s pull.”
“How do you know they’re abusing magic?”
She shrugged. “Sometimes they’re not. But to this degree, on the docks of New York, without any prior warning? They don’t want us to know something.”
“My backup is at least an hour away. How soon did Daire say he could get here?”
Moira drew in a deep breath. “Fifteen minutes. We can wait.”
Conn nodded, then lifted his head like a lion catching a scent. He gave a low growl—then a snarl. “We’re dealing with more than witches.”
An irritant pricked the back of her neck—awareness of a sort. “Kurjans.” A witch was working with the Kurjans? So much for waiting for Daire.
“Yes. I sense at least three.” Conn leaned closer. “You up to another fight?”
He truly had no idea. “Yes.”
Conn reached for his gun at the back of his waist. “Why is a witch messing around on the docks, Moira?”
Unease kept her still. “Ah, I don’t know.”
Irritation swirled through his dark eyes. “Let’s look at this rationally, shall we?”
“I’d rather not.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Something mined in Russia has the enforcers scrambling. And a witch is abusing magic at the Port of New York. Now, I’m no Kane Kayrs, but I have to wonder ... is this witch awaiting a cargo container with something from Russia, maybe shipped from Northern Europe?”
The vamp had a brain. “Quite possibly.”
“What’s in it?”
“I’m not sure.” The lie rolled off her tongue. “We harvest many minerals to use with the elements and practice witchcraft.”
“Bullshit.” Conn glanced behind him. “The Kurjans are moving in fast.”
“Do you think they sense you, too?”
“Probably.” He glanced up the twenty-five feet of stacked cargo containers. “They’re heading for the dock. Is that where your witch is working?”
“Yes.” Working seemed an apt description. “There’s a blanket shield over this part of the port.” Moira raised her palms to the sky. “Let’s put a dent in it, shall we? Get the witch focused on protecting the shield for now.” She rearranged oxygen molecules to electricity, shooting up toward the shield.
A pop sounded, and the pounding of the sea became clear. Lightning flashed. Rain began to batter their heads. The witch at the dock held enough power to keep a storm away from the area.
Moira needed help.
Conn placed both hands on the lowest container. “Jump on my back and we’ll climb to the top to surprise the Kurjans.”
Moira leaped onto his back, tucking her head into his neck and her legs around his hips. Air rushed through her hair. A whisper of thought later, she stood on the top of the three containers. “Vampire speed is so cool.”
“They’re coming from the north.” Gone was her mate. A warrior, all business, all purpose stood in his place. Hard lines cut into the sharp angles of his face, his eyes a dangerous emerald. He grabbed her hand, stalking gracefully across the container to the far edge. “There’s your witch.”