Tempest’s Fury (Jane True #5)

Tempest’s Fury (Jane True #5) Page 52

Griffin’s Alfar, however, did no such thing. Their own glamouring power swept even more powerfully over the square. It made sense they’d do so, knowing that some kind of fight was probably imminent. But it also meant that any one supe who slipped and flared magic where it shouldn’t be would have their signature camouflaged by all the power whipping about the square.

It was then that I saw her.

I pinched Anyan hard, and he jumped before realizing I wasn’t just torturing him. He followed the finger that I’d pointed surreptitiously towards the far corner of the square, swearing softly.

Morrigan, dressed in a pretty white sundress, was watching everyone mill around from under the safety of a parasol.

She looked absolutely enchanting—her long blonde hair swirling down her back and her expression one of rapt attention. I also felt enchanted, part of me wanting to make my way towards her, to touch her, to kneel at her feet. But now that I knew those feelings were really the Red’s unholy charisma, they were easy to ignore. I did notice, however, that the creatures nearest her—under strict orders not to confront the Red should she appear—all too unconsciously stepped towards her. I doubted if any even recognized her, as most only had our verbal descriptions of Morrigan. And yet still they couldn’t help but draw nearer, peering around as if they were suddenly reminded of something.

“Here come the bones,” murmured a voice next to me. It was Magog, her wings contained in an overcoat similar to mine and her mad emo hair wrapped under a floral head scarf. She looked like a local from the League of Gentlemen.

Gun-cameras pivoted as the first car in the cavalcade entered the cathedral’s grounds from between the buildings flanking it on all sides. It was a black sedan, and another followed it. Finally there came a hearse, with two more dark sedans guarding its rear.

All eyes were on the caravan except for mine. I was texting Morrigan’s whereabouts to Griffin and Blondie in case they hadn’t seen her, while I kept my own eyes glued to her white-clad figure.

“Got her,” texted back Blondie, even as I saw in my peripheral vision Griffin scan the crowd, find me, and give me an almost imperceptible nod.

Our former-queen-turned-dragon was sauntering towards the doors of the Minster at a leisurely pace, but the face she turned towards the hearse was filled with such utter love and longing that I might have cried, had I not known she was mourning a lover with whom she planned to destroy the world.

Again.

So it didn’t take much hardening of the heart to surge forward with the other protesters, waving our signs and chanting some gibberish about idolatry. Meanwhile, some of our strongest rebels and Alfar soldiers—dressed as penitents, priests, nuns, and local dignitaries—began to form an orderly line to attend the small private mass that was supposed to be conducted before the relics officially opened to the public.

Ballsy as ever, Morrigan joined them, smiling around beatifically at those who looked too closely. Everyone behaved beautifully, however, not betraying a trace of supernatural power or letting the proximity of the Red panic them in any way.

Our plan was to get Morrigan in the church, put it under magical lock down, and take her out then. As everyone started to process inside, Anyan and I would scamper over to a side door where I could confront Morrigan with the labrys. If all went the way it was supposed to, Morrigan would already be taken down by the welcoming party awaiting her, which included Jack and Luke, along with Blondie and some other very strong Alfar. I’d just have to do some hacking with the ax, a job that I wasn’t looking forward to but that I was pretty sure I could handle. Violence wasn’t in my nature, but Morrigan had crossed too many lines. If she hadn’t been evil before, as the woman who would murder her own husband, she was certainly evil now that she’d invited the Red to share her body.

“They’re going in,” Anyan murmured. “You ready?”

I nodded, and we started to make our way through our own people towards the side entrance. Everyone moved aside, quickly filling back in the space left by our passing so that we moved through the crowd invisibly. Anyan kept craning his head around to keep an eye on things, reporting back to me.

“Everyone’s lined up to watch the bones. They’re nearly to the door. Morrigan’s at the head of the line to go in. She’s only a few feet from the relics, but she’s not making a move yet.”

We kept walking, nearing the side door that would take us in when we were called.

“Blondie’s coming down. She’s going in the back door.” The barghest took a deep breath, tasting the air. “Jack and Luke are already there, waiting.”

“It’s all going according to plan,” I said, then remembered to rap myself on the head, to knock on wood. I had just raised my fist, in fact, when I heard Anyan swear.

“What the fuck?” I whipped around, pushing in front of the barghest only to swear, myself.

“What the fuck is Graeme doing here?” I almost screeched. Last I’d been told, Blondie herself had set him in a special cell in a rebel hideout in York, guarded by Lyman.

So what the hell was Graeme doing here, running across the square towards Morrigan?

I swore again, reaching for my phone as Anyan ripped off his shirt and his man shape flowed downward into dog shape, and he launched himself forward. Four feet were way faster than two, and I’d just dialed Blondie’s number when Anyan hit the wave of fake protesters. He was shouting for them to move, to stop Graeme, but unlike when we’d moved through them going the other way, they were neither anticipating us nor were they facing the right direction. So Anyan’s forward progress was significantly slowed by the crowd.

Meanwhile I got ready to create a mage ball, but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. If I took Graeme out Morrigan would notice, and see where the shot came from. But he had to be stopped. I was just about to throw it anyway, when Blondie picked up her phone.

“Graeme’s here!” I shouted, before she could even say “hello.”

“What?”

“Graeme’s here! He’s free, and he’s here!”

“Stop him,” Blondie barked, and I let fly with my mage ball even as a black form swooped down to try to tackle him.

Magog.

But the raven wasn’t quick enough, and Graeme managed to dodge both her and my mage ball.

I swore, starting to run towards the action, before I reconsidered and entered the cathedral’s side door behind me. Instead of trying to dart through the crowd, I pelted down the empty aisles toward the main doors, pulling my ax as I did so.

Framed in the doorway a few yards from entering, I could see the men in livery carrying the coffin bearing the relics. And just a few yards behind them was the flash of white indicating Morrigan, with Graeme hurtling towards her.

Also in front of me was Blondie, who’d had the same idea as I had, and was running a few steps ahead as we both slid through the open doors into the sunshine, blinking after the gloom of the church’s interior.

Just as my eyes adjusted enough to see, I saw Graeme reach Morrigan. He was only a few paces from her, and her eyes were on him. He shouted, she frowned, and then Anyan was on the incubus, landing on him in dog form and bearing him to the ground.

But the damage was done.

An earsplitting roar rent through the square. A sound so huge coming from such a dainty woman might have been comical, if Morrigan hadn’t also reached over to grab the “priest” behind her. Before he had a chance to throw up shields or react in any way, her hand was around his throat as she lofted him above her head.

I watched in horror as scales slid up that arm until Morrigan’s hand became a grotesquely large claw, squeezing the life out of the supe in her grip. Her other hand, also a scaled claw, came swiping out in front of her, gutting the man with a wound I knew couldn’t be healed.

She threw the man’s body out towards the crowd, roaring as she did so. Everyone was running away from the Red, ganging up on the periphery behind mutual shields, facing the Red with mage balls at the ready.

Morrigan, meanwhile, was laughing maniacally, her head thrown back as scales kept traveling up her body. She was also growing larger, and I saw Blondie motion towards Daniel who raised a walkie-talkie to bring in the fire trucks. We had water ready for her transformation into a dragon, and I prepared myself to help that water along.

But somewhere between Red and Morrigan, between dragon and human, she stopped her transformation.

Her white dress had long since ripped off, and her body was entirely covered in ruby red scales. Her legs and arms had lengthened, and her back had stooped, ready to elongate into that of a giant lizard. But it hadn’t elongated, and she stayed on two legs as she surveyed the crowd through those eerie green eyes.

Anyan was closest to her, crouched over a motionless Graeme. Head low and hackles raised, his slavering mouth emitted a low growl and I knew he’d attack.

“No!” I shouted, pushing past Blondie and raising the ax even as Anyan sprang. Morrigan had her talons raised, waiting for the barghest, but it was my own wave of power that knocked him flat, and safe, feet from where she stood.

“Ah, young love,” Morrigan crooned in a voice edged with fire. Her words seemed to burn in the air, and I smelled sulfur. I was edging around her, towards Anyan, and she watched me with a ridge that used to be an eyebrow elegantly raised.