"God, who knew angels swear so much?" Molly mumbled. It was an attempt to break the silence between them, but it didn't go very far. She flicked her eyes to Onyx, then back to the road. Finally she put her hand on Onyx's leg. "It's okay, love."
"I'm so sorry about all this," Onyx said softly. Her eyes were still turned out the passenger side window.
"Don't. Stop. We could've walked away and ignored it all if we wanted to. And we don't even know if that chick's story is gonna check out, right?"
"Doesn't make me feel like any less of a moron," Onyx shrugged. "Doesn't make me feel any better for putting you at risk."
"Onyx, if he really has been grabbed and it really is those assholes, we're as loaded for bear tonight as we're ever gonna be. The Brotherhood's a problem we're going to have to deal with sooner or later. We know that now. Might as well do it when we've potentially got an angel and a freakin' demon on our side. Potentially," she repeated dryly. "Or if she's lying, then we go back home and kick her lying, shapechanging ass."
"I don't think she's lying," Onyx said quietly. "It's up here. Turn left. Three buildings up. There. I don't see anyone out there...probably long gone already."
Molly nodded, parking a couple of houses away. "Still ready with the contingency plans?"
As if in answer, Onyx simply held out a snapdragon petal. "Bullshit first, run like hell second," she repeated. Molly began murmuring the words of the spell even as Onyx pulled out a petal for herself. She sighed, not wanting to cast a spell of deceit yet again. As Molly finished, she said, "Maybe I got paid forward for casting this last time."
"Onyx. Seriously. Let's say Rachel's story is legit. It's not like he was crushing on you because he thought you were an honest-to-goddess witch. What was he going to tell you?"
Onyx sighed, murmured the words, and put the petal under her tongue. "I'll pry an explanation out of him when we see him," she grumbled as she got out of the car.
Molly followed. "I'll hold him down for you."
The pair walked together toward Alex's condominium building with their eyes warily scanning their surroundings. They didn't get far before spotting trouble. Onyx was very good at that sort of thing, having a particular talent for magical perception. There was malevolence and wariness here, lurking in the shadows of the building across from Alex's. The debris of the fighting earlier had all been cleared away, with Alex's window looking intact and normal, but the concealed presence of two figures nearby was a dead giveaway.
Fortunately, they both had their poker faces on and enhanced with a subtle yet effective enchantment. "Aw, motherfucker," Onyx grunted with feigned frustration. She looked directly at the lurking pair. She kept her voice deliberately controlled, speaking only just loud enough to project to the watchers. "Did you guys already grab him?"
"Do I know you?" asked a female voice.
"Probably not. We just got invited to the party yesterday. So to speak," Onyx shrugged.
"By whom?"
"That's a little sticky," Molly said. "His name's Kenneth, and, uh...while his invitation was interesting, Kenneth himself was, uh..."
"An arrogant little pig with no social skills, who deserves to have his ass handed to him on a regular basis?" the woman offered.
Onyx and Molly both made a show of fighting down grins. "We were hoping the invitation was still open even if things didn't go so well with the messenger," Onyx explained. "Particularly if we could deliver the guy you're looking for."
There was a long moment of silence. "What are your names?"
"I'm Molly. She's Onyx." It wasn't worth lying about that. There was too much of a chance that the Brotherhood had done at least that much homework on the pair.
The woman stepped out of the shadows. She was older, perhaps in her mid-thirties, dressed in a darkly toned pantsuit. Her race was entirely undeterminable. The necklace around her neck plunged below her top, so it was impossible to see what sort of charm she had on it. "You can call me Ms. Black for now." She turned her head to look over her shoulder at her companion. "This is... Talon," she added with a note of dry humor.
"I thought you people were supposed to be subtle," the man in the darkness snapped quietly.
"I thought yours were supposed to be frightening yet seductive," Ms. Black shrugged. "Failure on both counts, I suppose." She looked back to Molly and Onyx. "As it happens, there is a party of a more literal sort tonight. I would be happy to take on the privilege of introducing you to the Brotherhood, if you would like to attend. It may be a bit of an overwhelming night, but if you delay you may feel that you missed out on something remarkable. I can guarantee your safety for the night as long as you take no actions against the Brotherhood or their hosts."
"Will this count as our formal induction?" Molly asked with just the right amount of reluctance.
"Heavens no. This is certainly not a night for commitments on your part, however I think it will be a good time to see how and why it is in your best interests to join us. As I said, I guarantee safe passage." She held up her hands, reciting something ancient in Greek. Onyx and Molly could see the telltale signs of magic at work, could recognize the invocation of spirits and fate. All the right words were there.
"There's also the thing with Kenneth," Molly pointed out. "How do we know we're not in trouble?"
"That can be hashed out. If the two of you were acting in self-defense, Kenneth will have no real recourse. You could smooth it over with an exchange of favors or gifts, as is custom," Ms. Black suggested. "He was significantly injured, I'm told, but I have no trouble believing that it was the result of his utter lack of tact rather than an intentional strike against the Brotherhood itself. Still interested?"
"We're game," Onyx said. She didn't need to look at Molly.
"Are you sure of this?" Talon murmured audibly from behind Ms. Black.
The sorceress shrugged. "Nothing risked, nothing gained. I'm not worried about the trouble any two witches might make tonight given the assemblage we have in place. There couldn't be a safer time to give them this opportunity." She didn't do anything to conceal the statement from the pair of women before her. She had a fair point; all she had to do was to get these two to the party and then there would be no real threat. The opportunity to bring these long sought-after recruits in through her own initiative was too great to resist.
"We have room in our vehicle for you both, if you would like," Ms. Black said. "In fact, for security reasons, I must insist. Don't worry, you won't be searched or anything. The right to self-defense and to tend to one's own matters are at the core of the Brotherhood's creed."
She beckoned for the pair to follow. They did so, sharing a momentary glance that said volumes: of course, they didn't really trust this woman; of course, Ms. Black didn't really trust them; and of course, this was really their only option other than naked violence. The latter might be the less risky choice, but there was a good chance that it would create a dead end in their search.
Molly got a good look at Talon as he appeared from the shadows to follow behind them. He was pale, of course, with slicked-back black hair and a black trench coat. From under the collar of his black silk shirt, Molly caught the gleam of chain mail. He also wasn't doing a very good job of concealing the underarm holsters beneath the trench coat, or of the short sword on his belt reminiscent of ancient Rome. The vampire's hands were both decorated with claw rings.
"Nice jewelry," Molly noted. "Cool to see one of you guys who doesn't get everything from Goth 'n' Go."
Talon opened his mouth to say something sharp and biting, but promptly closed it with a hint of embarrassment. He promptly checked to make sure his fifteen-dollar iron cross necklace wasn't showing.
************
Scipio had been on the wrong side of everything his whole life.
He was on the wrong side of his family, and so he joined the Legions rather than following in the family business. He was on the wrong side of his centurion in Gaul, having shown too much leniency on the natives after they'd been crushed in battle. He came home to find himself on the wrong side of his own wife for having plundered so poorly – again, a result of his being too merciful toward a conquered people.
He was also on the wrong side of his wife's lover. That she had taken one had been a shock, but in hindsight, it shouldn't have been a surprise. She was always too good to be true. In the chaos of Caesar's return and the mess that followed, Scipio's wife brought him down a dark alley where her lover and several other men were waiting for him. He woke up on the wrong side of the cages in the slave market, where a minor aristocrat named Opilio bought him.
A year later, he was on the wrong side of the owner's villa when Felix and his men arrived to speak with Opilio about certain debts. Felix – Scipio didn't know the rest of his name, didn't care – tended to handle such discussions in a very frightening and physical manner. So did his men.
Roman slaves were expected to defend their masters, even to the death. A couple of Opilio's slaves were silly enough to have done just that, and they paid the natural price. Scipio did not. He remained in the pantry where he had been upon Felix's arrival and pretended not to hear Opilio's pleas or his cries. Scipio felt no loyalty to the arrogant, degrading fop. He should have known better than to get mixed up with such rough individuals.
All Scipio wanted was his freedom and a fresh start. Revenge on his wife and her lover might have been nice, but a new life with a genuinely decent woman would be nicer. He might have gained that from Opilio if he worked hard enough and showed enough loyalty...but not loyalty like this. This was just a fine mess. Opilio was a fool to have gotten himself into it, and there was no hope for Scipio if he should get mixed up in it, too.
He pretended not to hear Opilio's troubles, but then he heard Opilio's daughter scream. He heard Opilio beg for mercy for Marciana, which was entirely the wrong thing to say to a man like Felix when he was angry. Marciana, only back in Opilio's household after recently being widowed, had played no role in Opilio's troubles.
Scipio got to his feet. He grimly headed straight into the wrong side of the mess.
In the doorway, he saw Julian. They had fought together in Gaul. Julian looked up in surprise to see his old comrade in a slave's tunic. He opened his mouth to say something. Julian had always been quick with his blade, but he was much quicker with his mouth.
Whatever he said, Scipio didn't listen. There was a crying girl to drown it out, anyway. Scipio snatched the gladius out of its scabbard on Julian's belt. Julian naturally raised his right hand to throw a punch, but Scipio caught it at the wrist. With a single, precise swing, he hacked through Julian's arm at the elbow.
Julian screamed. Scipio slammed the pommel of the sword into his nose, shoving him out of the way. There were two men inside, plus Opilio (who hardly counted as a man in Scipio's opinion) and Felix. Marciana was there, held down on a table by one of Felix's men while another held a club around Opilio's throat. Felix himself stood naked, his tunic only just now removed. He was momentarily dumbfounded.
They all were.
Felix, therefore, was something of a gift from Mars. Scipio put the gladius through his throat before he even had a moment to cry out. The others were on their feet then.
The one restraining Opilio gave up his grip on the foppish man and lunged for Scipio. Opilio was a bit of an obstacle; his lunge was a bit awkward because of the falling, whimpering aristocrat in front of him, and thus his first blow was easily parried. Before he had his balance again, Scipio grabbed him by the shirt and ran him through.
The last was around the table by the time this happened, but then lurched back. Scipio turned to him and just stared. The thug turned to flee, but Scipio caught up to him before he got to the door. He finished him off in the doorway, and Julian as well.
In the stunned moments of silence that followed, Scipio saw to Marciana's shaking condition. He spoke to her in calm, measured tones, reassuring her that this would not happen again. Felix was gone. His men were gone. Her father would resolve the debts.
He was on the wrong side of Opilio in that moment, who rose behind him with the club that had been used to hold him. Opilio would have loved to reward Scipio, but he was a slave who had killed free Romans. What's more, Opilio needed a scapegoat for what had just happened. Someone had to take the blame for killing five men in the midst of a friendly visit between business partners.
Opilio didn't want Scipio to be on the wrong part of the necessary explanations, after all.