The Enchantment Emporium (Gale Women #1) - Page 6

The clock on the bedside table read 5:14 when Allie, lying with her head on Graham's shoulder so she could watch the minutes pass, felt his breathing change. One moment he was asleep, the next, awake and, if she hadn't been waiting for it, she'd have missed the way muscles tensed as he processed the situation.

Not hard to figure out how that processing began.

Not alone.

Who?

He didn't exactly relax after memory kicked in, but given the hex marks on his chest, Allie wasn't surprised.

"So…" He stroked her shoulder. "… is this when we talk?"

He'd known she was awake even though she'd been careful to keep her body limp and her breathing deep and regular.

Good instincts. Again, not surprising.

She combed her fingernails through the patch of hair on his chest, lightly scratching at the skin. "Unless you have a better idea."

A deep breath escaped before he said, "Maybe we should wait until after we talk."

"All right." She could tell he was thinking that after they talked, it'd be too late.

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Pretty much proving her theory, he released her, turned on the bedside lamp, and started to get out of bed. Allie allowed him to roll her off his shoulder but that was it. "You're working for a sorcerer," she stated calmly. He froze in place. "Given the hexes he's marked you with," she continued, "what you do is dangerous.You know who I am and as much about my family as anyone does and may have had something to do with my grandmother's disappearance although I doubt it-you knew she was gone, but you didn't know why or you wouldn't have been trying to find out what I knew about it. You'd have been angling me away from the truth. Your sorcerer didn't want her around, but he knew better than to overtly remove her. He called you last night when he realized creatures other than dragons were coming through the gate-probably because the dragons have messed up the security-and that those creatures could be a threat to him. You took a weapon out of the back of your truck. Since the west isn't wild enough for you to be waving a high-caliber sniper rifle around, there's a misdirection hex carved into it. You-and your sorcerer-assumed the hexes on the doors would keep me in the truck. You were both wrong about that. After shooting the creatures, you hid the weapon and went back for it later." The faint smell she hadn't been able to place-gunpowder. She smiled at him, rolling up onto her side. "And you snore."

His face blank, he lay back on his pillow and stared at the ceiling-further processing, deciding on a reaction. After a long moment, he turned his head toward her, blue eyes narrowed, and said, "I snore?"

"Well, it's more of a snuffle, actually."

"How long…"

"As long as I was listening."

"Allie."

"Only since I saw the hex marks on your chest." She ran a finger down each line. "He should have warned you they'd give away the game."

"This…" He waved a hand between them, his gaze locked on hers, wanting her to believe him. "This wasn't his idea."

Allie rolled her eyes. "Duh. But he did send you to find out what I knew."

"Yes."

"You really are a reporter." If she'd only seen the issue of the newspaper he'd shown her, she might have doubted that, but she'd pulled one from a box at the airport and flipped through it waiting for Charlie. He'd had an article in it about a man from Ponoka who swore he could whistle down the Northern Lights. But seriously, who couldn't?

"I really am a reporter."

"Why?"

"Thought I'd use that journalism degree."

"Not what I meant." She flicked his shoulder with her finger. "Why work at an actual job?Your sorcerer could support you."

His left eyelid twitched. "He's not my sorcerer."

"Semantics." Rubbing her knee up the outside of his thigh, she murmured, "Why is he bringing the dragons through?"

"He isn't." His eyes narrowed, and he shied away from her touch. "But you knew that."

"Not until you confirmed it. The gate originated on the other side, but he could have been calling them."

After a long moment, he said, "Originated?"

"I closed it."

"You closed it?"

"Slammed it shut with extreme prejudice and hung up a sign that said, 'If you can't control the security on your gates, we'll control it for you'." When he made a noise he'd probably be embarrassed to admit to later, she laughed. "Not really. I just shut it."

"Just?"

"It's not hard." Allie lifted herself up far enough she could see Graham's face. "Openings between the MidRealm and the UnderRealm aren't natural. Because there's supposed to be a barrier, the gate would rather be closed."

"The gate has an actual opinion. Ow." He grabbed for her hand and missed. "What will they do?" A muscle jumped in his jaw. "The ones who opened the gate?"

Allie shrugged, enjoying the way her skin moved against his. "Probably open another one somewhere else."

"They won't retaliate?"

"They never have. It's not their world," she explained when he frowned. "We have the final say here. They have it there." Using the tip of a finger, she traced the white line of scar that ran along his ribs and wondered how he'd gotten it. If he'd been a Gale boy, she'd have known. Finally, she sighed. "I need to talk to your boss."

The curve of his mouth wasn't quite a smile. "He won't talk to you."

"Yes, he will."

It seemed he didn't believe her. "I can ask him, Allie, but he doesn't trust your family."

He should be heading for the hills. No sorcerer in his right mind would linger anywhere near a Gale. Allie couldn't decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Graham didn't know that. "Just do what you can. When do you have to be at work?"

"Nine. Why?"

Rising up a little higher, she peered past him at the clock. Five thirty-four. She smiled and slid her hand under the sheet.

"Allie!"

"Whatever's happening in Calgary, that doesn't change what's happening between you and me."

Blue eyes gleamed. "And what's happening between you and me?"

"Why don't you let go of my wrist and we'll find out?"

He dropped her at the store at eight forty-three, fingers drumming on the steering wheel as she unbuckled her seat belt.

"What's wrong?"

"You and I, we can't…"

"We already are, Graham." Leaning forward, Allie kissed him lightly. "Or are you planning on dumping me now you've had your wicked way. Multiple times."

He smiled against her mouth, one hand rising to tangle in her hair. "My wicked way?"

"My ways aren't wicked." She flicked her tongue against his lower lip, then backed up. "You have my cell number, call me after you've talked to him." This time the truck door opened easily. Out on the sidewalk, she turned, and leaned back into the cab. "One more thing." This needed to be said, but she carefully maintained a neutral tone; he'd recognize the warning. "If you need to talk to Joe again, come to the store."

She closed the door before he could lie to her. The thing between them was still new; no harm in granting it a little wiggle room. Unfortunately, Graham didn't seem to have gotten the memo and leaned over to roll down the window.

Lifting her arm, she showed him her watch. "You'll be late."

"Allie…"

He sighed as a guy leaned out of a passing truck and yelled, "Get a room!"

"… we need to talk some more."

"Okay."

"With our clothes on."

"Sure."

"I'm serious."

"You know where I am."

He stared at her for a long moment, shook his head, and settled back behind the wheel. She waited on the sidewalk until he drove away, then went into the store and pulled out her phone.

Then put it away again.

Even without the presence of the sorcerer, there was enough going on to bring at least one or two aunties west on what they'd euphemistically call a fact-finding mission. Add the sorcerer to the mix and all euphemisms would be chucked out the window. She'd have a dozen aunties on her doorstop loaded for bear and pretty much unstoppable in a little better than a heartbeat. Might be smarter to get as much information out of the sorcerer as she could before she called in the heavy artillery and they took him apart.

They wouldn't want her to go near him.

That, she had to admit as she unlocked the door, was part of the attraction.

Funny how being so far away from home had suddenly become a good thing. It seemed the constant ache had even eased a bit.

Charlie had sprawled out on the bed leaving Michael little more room than could be filled with the width of his shoulders-which was, admittedly, a considerable width. Allie flicked on the lights, picked a pair of cushions off the floor and heaved them at the bed.

"Up and at 'em, boys and girls. There's a sorcerer in town, and I'm making French toast."

As Charlie dragged a pillow over her head, Michael blinked blearily up at her. "You're making French toast for a sorcerer?"

Allie grinned. "He's welcome to breakfast if he calls before we're done."

Graham could feel his boss' attention on him from the moment he passed under the wards guarding the entrance to the building. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there, silent sentinels keeping the older man safe.

"You've seen what hunts me, boy.You know better than most the danger I'm in."

Except for the style of salutation, things hadn't changed much in the thirteen years Stanley Kalynchuk had been his mentor. He knew the danger because he killed those foul creatures drawn to the sorcerer's power.

Catherine Gale had not been foul, he admitted, climbing the stairs to the second-floor offices of The Western Star. She'd been stubborn, untruthful, terrifyingly grabby and, considering which way the wind was blowing with her granddaughter, he wasn't exactly upset when she disappeared by some other hand than his.

Alysha Gale, on the other hand…

"I don't believe it!"

Jerked out of his thoughts, Graham stopped just inside the door of the outer office, his way blocked by his employer who actually looked… disheveled. Above yesterday's shirt-still untucked-dark brows were not only drawn in but seemed thicker than usual, his cheeks were beginning to purple, and his nostrils had flared to the point where it actually looked painful.

"You slept with her!"

"Not really any of your business," Graham told him, a little surprised by how much effort it took to keep his voice level.

"Oh, you sleep with a Gale while you're working for me, the Gale I sent you out to do reconnaissance on, and it's most certainly my business. I wouldn't have cared if you'd fucked her five ways to Sunday…"

Graham felt his fingers curl into fists. Didn't remember consciously making the decision but couldn't deny it had happened.

"… I have never cared about your dalliances, but you actually fell asleep beside her."

"I was tired." He almost smiled remembering why. "I'm fine."

"You're an idiot! Did you listen to nothing I told you about the women of this family." Kalynchuk reached out and smacked Graham on the forehead hard enough he took a step back and his fists rose. "She's marked you. Right between the eyes."

"Marked me?"

"Drawn a charm. On your forehead. The wards screamed the news when you walked through them." His lip curled. "Strip. I need to see what else she's written."

Regaining control of his hands, Graham stopped himself from touching his forehead-he'd seen nothing when he shaved and didn't expect to feel anything now-and stripped efficiently down to his boxers right where he stood. He felt stupid. And betrayed. Stupidly betrayed. She'd been playing him all along.

Except…

He'd have sworn it was real. Even only having known her for four days. Even not knowing what it was.

"She didn't mess with your protections. That's something."

Glancing up from the hex marks, Kalynchuk jabbed a thick finger toward Graham's underwear. "Those, too."

"I don't…"

"I do. Get them off."

Forcing himself to breathe evenly through his nose, Graham let them fall to his ankles. Detached himself from himself-the way he did when he had a target in his sights-as his boss walked slowly around him, examining his skin for more marks of betrayal. The air in the office wasn't particularly cold, but he felt himself shrinking. The metaphor made physical.

"Get dressed," the older man grunted at last. "There's just the one. Right out in the open," he added walking away as Graham began to obey. "Didn't bother to hide it. But then, no reason for her to, is there? It's not like she knows I exist, or I'd already be ass-deep in crazy old women."

Dragging his trousers up over his hips, Graham spent a moment considering a lie. "She saw the protections, Boss."

Kalynchuk froze. Slowly turned. "She what?"

"She saw the protections."

"That's impossible, they're designed not to be seen."

"Yeah, well, she saw them. She has a fairly good idea of what's going on, and she wants to talk to you."

"Talk?"

"She seemed to think you'd be willing. I expect the charm is there to get your attention," he added as he shrugged into his shirt.

"Well, it worked! And do you know why it worked?" His cheeks began to purple again. "It worked because Gale women do not talk to men of power. They swarm in like a flock of crows, pecking away a bit here and a bit there until you're blind and helpless, and then they move in for the kill."

"The kill?" Graham's fingers froze, button shoved half through a button hole. "Metaphorically?"

"Actually." His lip curled. "Gale women have a fatal hate on for sorcerers."

"But if Catherine Gale was that much of a danger to you…"

"Why didn't I have you take care of her? Two reasons. First of all, you take one out and a dozen more flap in to find out what happened. Second, and more importantly, by the time I knew she was here," he turned and glared at the map of the city, "she'd been here for months. We'd been here together for months. And that could only mean she didn't know I was here. Safest thing to do would have been to leave, slink away with my tail between my legs and start up fresh somewhere else, but why should I?" He slammed his fist against the map, the impact jumping half a dozen pushpins out to clatter against the floor. "Why the fuck should I? Goddamned Gale women! But before you could acquire any useful information from her, all of a sudden, my world went to shit. The emergence…" He flicked up a thick finger. "… they started arriving…" Another finger. "… the old bitch disappeared…" One more finger. "… and the young one arrived." Fingers curled back into a fist. "Now I can't leave, and this fucking Gale girl is fucking you!"

Graham shook his head, trying to arrange this new information into some sort of order. "You should have run from Catherine Gale?"

"From what she represented, yes."

"But you're…"

"Yes, I am. I could turn this city into a sheet of glass and send every soul in it to perdition with a word-all right, fine," he amended, although Graham hadn't spoken, "seven words. But they…" He sighed and sat heavily on a corner of one of the unused desks. "They don't fight fair. There has never been a sorcerer who survived a confrontation with them. Never. Might as well try to hold a handful of water as take them on."

"Freeze water, and you can hold it," Graham pointed out as the phone on his desk began to ring.

"Trite, but true," Kalynchuk acknowledged, silencing the phone with a wave. "But while you might have been able to take out Catherine Gale, could you shoot your girlfriend's grandmother?"

"She's not my girlfriend." Although he could almost touch the might have beens, the way he felt before he'd been told of her betrayal.

Kalynchuk snorted. "So you say. I say they're tricky."

"The charm; what will it make me do?"

"It won't make you do anything."

"So it's completely benign?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what does it say?"

"It says you should call her and set up a meeting in the probably futile hope that there's a way out of this mess before we're overrun with crazy old women."

"Boss…"

"You really want to know, you should ask her."

"You've never lied to me."

"Has she?" It wasn't a tone Graham recognized. Took him a moment to identify it as melancholy. "Because they don't usually. It's just one of the things that makes them so dangerous. They can eat right through your defenses with the truth, boy. Don't ever doubt it."

He touched his forehead then. Didn't know he was doing it until he felt the contact. "I need to know before I see her again."

"Forewarned is forearmed. I suppose." Kalynchuk took a deep breath and shook himself, almost as though he were surfacing from deep water. "It says, essentially and for all intents and purposes, mine."

Graham blinked, hands stilled on his final button. "Yours?"

"No, you young idiot. Hers."

"A sorcerer?" Charlie stared down at the plate of French toast and then gratefully up at Allie as her fingers closed automatically around the offered mug of coffee. "No fucking way. The family hasn't butted heads with a sorcerer in… well, forever."

"The seventies."

"So last millennium."

"Hex marks don't lie, Charlie."

"Yeah, but here? In Calgary?" She took a long swallow as Allie set a second full plate down in front of Michael and sat herself. "I'm sure it's a nice enough place, but there's buggerall power here for sorcerers to be drawn to."

Allie picked up her fork. "Maybe he's just ahead of the curve. Power's shifting this way. Things are happening in Calgary."

"Please stop saying that," Charlie muttered, reaching for the syrup.

"You guys don't mean…" Michael waggled a hand as he chewed and swallowed. "… power, do you? I mean, like the oil fields and stuff?"

"Sorcerers accumulate power." Allie mirrored Michael's wave. "Then they start using it to control things, to give themselves the other kind of power."

"You're kidding me? They want to rule the world?"

"Eventually that's what it comes to. Power corrupts. Corruption leads to abuse. Abuse has to be stopped. Or better still, prevented."

"Yeah, but what about the whole 'family doesn't interfere' thing?"

Allie shrugged. "You rule the world, you're trying to rule the family."

"So the aunties go out hunting sorcerers before it comes to that?"

"No! Well, sort of, except like Charlie said, sorcerers are rare."

"And the smart ones keep their heads down," Charlie interjected, folding the top, golden-brown slice of egg-soaked bread over a line of syrup and picking it up with her fingers.

"So it's not like something the aunties get up to every weekend," Allie finished, ignoring her. "It's just something they take care of when it comes up, when they find one. Maybe once in a lifetime. They don't talk about it though. It's an…" She sketched air quotes. "… auntie thing."

Michael frowned at the syrup bottle. "And that's what they think is going to happen to David? He's going to get corrupted by power until he wants to rule the world and they'll have to take him out?"

"It's not going to happen!" Allie hadn't realized she'd gotten to her feet until she found herself glaring down at Michael and Charlie-the former stared back at her, the latter poured herself another cup of coffee. "But, yeah, that's what they think," she sighed as she sat down.

"Why did you never tell me any of this before?" Michael wondered.

"Because even though you act like an enormous girl…" Charlie patted his hand. "… you're really a guy. Is there any way this sorcerer could be bringing the dragons through?"

Allie shook her head. "The security on the gate had to be broken from the other side."

"By who?" Charlie demanded.

"No idea."

"An accomplice. The sorcerer could be calling them."

"Graham says he isn't."

"Oh, babe, Graham's working for him. He'll say whatever the black-hearted, son-of-a-bitch wants him to say."

"I believe him."

"He must be fan-fucking-tastic in the sack," Charlie muttered, "because you've only ever been this stupidly blind about one other man."

"Who?" Michael asked. When the cousins turned to stare at him, he flushed. "Oh. Right. So, uh, when do the aunties get here?" he asked, loading up another forkful.

"I haven't told them yet."

The crack of heavy porcelain against wood punctuated the extended silence as Charlie set her mug on the table, smudged eye makeup around wide eyes making her look like a startled raccoon. "You haven't told them yet? What are you waiting for, a visit from the little people? Hang on." She threw up both hands in exaggerated surprise. "You've had that, too!"

"I'm thinking," Allie growled, "that I'd like to know what's happening, and it's a little hard to find out once the ground's been salted."

"Metaphorically?" Michael wondered.

"Sometimes. Look…" She pushed her plate aside and leaned forward, elbows on the table. "… you know what the aunties are like. Gran's gone, someone broke the security on a gate to let the dragons through, and they're going to blame the sorcerer for both those things as well as the hike in Calgary's transit fares, middle-aged women wearing jeans that barely cover their asses, and SciFi canceling The Dresden Files."

"Loved that show," Michael muttered around a mouthful of French toast.

"He called Graham last night," Allie continued, "so he's monitoring the gate. He knows what's going on, and he's going to tell me. I mean, bottom line, he could easily be the lesser of two evils, depending on what's letting the dragons through and why."

Charlie shook her head. "Lesser of two evils will mean squat to the aunties. Besides, why would he spill to you?"

"Because he won't want me to call them. He talks or I dial."

Michael saluted her with his empty fork. "You go, girl! Are you going to eat… Thanks." He caught Allie's abandoned breakfast as she spun it across the table and dug in.

"I don't know…" Charlie lifted her coffee again and peered at Allie over the rim. "I can see why he'd take any chance offered to convince you not to call, but he has to know you're going to after he…" She blinked, and Allie almost literally saw the lights go on. "You're not, are you?You're going to try and sort this out yourself.You're not going to call them because you know they'll take your sorcerer's apprentice down with his boss."

"He's not his apprentice." Shifting, she could feel the mark his teeth had left on her inner thigh. "He's more like his assassin."

"Yeah, that makes him working with a sorcerer so much better."

"If it comes to it, I can protect Graham from the aunties."

"You can? Really. From the aunties?"

"Shut up."

"You sure you're not doing this because of David?" Michael asked quietly. "If you talk to this guy, and it turns out he isn't corrupt, then you can convince the aunties it's not all black and white, and they'll cut David some slack."

Mouth open, Charlie swiveled around in her chair. "Fuck me blind. Every now and then I remember you're not just another pretty face."

"Thank you. Elegantly expressed as always." He reached across the table and caught Allie's hand in his. "Allie-cat?"

"I didn't…" She hadn't thought of David since he'd called. And he wasn't going to turn anyway, so what would be the point in convincing the aunties that maybe not all sorcerers were cut from the same cloth. She turned her hand under Michael's so she could link their fingers and said, "That might be part of the reason."

David. And Graham. And…

And this was hers.

"Well, okay, then." He squeezed her hand, then let her go. "Pass the syrup and answer your phone."

It came as no real surprise when the address Allie'd been given turned out to be the long stone building on 6th Street, north of 2nd Avenue. The sorcerer's power had been drawing her attention even through the extensive wards he had on the building. And extensive was way too mild a description. She raised an eyebrow as she put her hand on the front door and the place lit up like a carnival ride. Allie half expected to hear cheesy calliope music. According to the aunties, sorcerers were big on the whole anything worth doing was worth overdoing, and it seemed they were right about that, at least. Three charms would have been plenty; one to mask power leakages if he was so paranoid about being found, one to stop unwanted guests, and one to give warning that a guest had arrived who couldn't be stopped.

Allie paused only long enough to recheck the office number on the mailbox in the entryway, and then paused a moment longer when she saw the name on the box.

The Western Star.

She was meeting the sorcerer Graham worked for at the tabloid Graham worked for. Given that two plus two still generally equaled four, even in Calgary, it seemed safe to assume that the sorcerer had something to do with the tabloid.

She stepped over the final hex without frying, and took the stairs to the second floor.

Like the charm on Gran's door, it had been set to keep out those who intended harm. She wasn't intending to do anything but get some answers.

After she had those answers, her intentions might change.

The deliberate rhythm of her boots against the tiles made it sound like she knew what she was doing. Carefully not imagining the aunties' reaction to being kept in the dark, feeling reckless and wondering if it was how Charlie always felt, she took the last four steps two at a time.

All things considered, the overdone hexes on the actual office door came as no surprise.

The room beyond it was smaller than she'd imagined. The wall opposite the two huge windows-also well hexed-was one enormous bank of filing cabinets, the wall to her right was covered in maps and corkboards that were covered in turn in pushpins and clippings, and in the wall opposite was another door, painted the ugliest khaki Allie'd ever seen with Stanley Kalynchuk, Publisher stenciled on it in black. Given the hexes on that door, it could have said Stanley Kalynchuk, Sorcerer just as accurately. Allie wondered what his actual name was.

There were a lot fewer newspapers around than she'd expected. Of the three desks filling the center of the room, only one looked used. Graham was sitting on the corner of it.

"We have a person who handles all our advertising, but she works from home. Comes in Tuesday mornings to go over the layout. A lot of our content is provided by freelancers, we take some off the wires, and I fill in the rest." He stood as she crossed the office. "I thought we could get all that out of the way up front."

He wasn't smiling.

"I don't like being used, Allie."

Not a Gale boy, Allie reminded herself. Not even someone who'd grown up around the Gales. She stopped just inside his reach. Just in case he wanted to reach for her. "I didn't use you."

"You marked me."

"We do that. I'm wearing Charlie's charms and one of my mother's. When I was younger, David, my brother, used to scribble all over me." She nodded toward the inner door. "He marked you."

"With my consent." Did he even know his hand had risen to touch his chest? "Giving me his protection."

"You fell asleep beside me, Graham, knowing who I was." Hoping he'd draw the line for himself, she waited. When he nodded, reluctantly granted but still an acknowledgment of her point, she added, "And I'm offering protection as well."

"Ignoring for the moment that I don't need your protection, it says mine. What kind of protection is that?"

Impossible to prevent a grin at the thought of Katie's reaction. "You'll find out when you start meeting my cousins."

"When I start…" His mouth opened and closed a few times. Allie waited more or less patiently while he worked through his reaction. "What makes you think," he managed at last, "that I'm going to meet your cousins? What makes you think that you and I are…"

"Still you and I?" She finished for him when it seemed like the hand waving was going to go on for a while.

"Yes!"

"You lied about why you were in the store.You took me out to dinner under false pretenses. You threatened my friend and employee. You would have killed my grandmother had your sorcerer commanded it, and don't bother lying to me, you wouldn't have had her under surveillance if he hadn't considered her a threat and-given that he employs you, well, that kind of defines his reaction to threat, doesn't it? In spite of all that, I'm still willing to give us a chance. Then I draw a completely harmless charm on your