Hunted by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #3)(84)

“Yeah, f*ck.” Annia let out a bitter laugh as she threw herself onto Comenius’s sofa. “Here I was, rushing off with you to save the Chief Mage so I could cash in on that huge bounty, when what I really should have been doing was sticking to my sister’s ass like glue and making sure she didn’t do anything stupid.”

I let out a sigh as I sat down next to Annia on the couch. “It’s not your fault,” I told her. “She was going to do it anyway –”

“No.” Annia sat up straight, tears thickening her voice as she glared at me. “Don’t you f*cking dare say that. That’s like saying it was inevitable, that there was no f*cking choice, no f*cking chance for me to change her mind.” Her voice shook as she balled her hand into a fist. “That’s like saying it’s fate, and I don’t believe in that shit.” Her dark eyes burned, as if daring me to challenge her so she could plow her fist into my face.

“You’re right.” I dropped my gaze, partly because I didn’t want to fight one of my best friends, and partly because she was right. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Here,” Comenius said gently, placing two cups of tea down on the coffee table in front of us. “Drink this.”

“I need whiskey, not tea,” Annia muttered, glaring at the cup as though it were personally responsible for all her woes.

“It’ll help soothe your nerves.” Comenius lifted the teacup and offered it to her. “Come on, Annia. You can’t keep going on like this.”

Annia didn’t say anything to that, but she did take the teacup. I took a sip from mine, and sighed as the hot, soothing blend slid down my throat and warmed my stomach. Comenius’s tea wouldn’t solve my problems, but it would make me feel better, and right now I needed all the pick-me-ups I could get. “Thanks, Com.”

“You’re quite welcome.” Comenius sat down heavily in the wicker chair and regarded me with a troubled look. “I hope your return means that the Chief Mage is going to do something about this catastrophe. The humans and shifters who haven’t run off are targeting anything connected with magic, which is why I’ve had to close down my shop. With the constant riots and lack of authority to get the population under control, the streets aren’t safe. Just the other day, the fortuneteller who works next door was beaten and raped in the street on her way home. Elania and I spent all night healing her, and now she won’t leave her apartment.”

“By Magorah.” I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes, unable to cope. “That’s f*cking awful. Iannis has yanked the Council back into line, and he’s working on getting all the wrongfully imprisoned citizens freed, but I don’t know how long it’ll take to bring the city back under control.”

“I’m afraid it will take much more than that to get Solantha back to normal,” Elania said sadly. “The Mages Guild has broken the trust of the people, what little there was of it, and they will not easily be reined in again.”

“Which I’m sure is exactly what the Resistance wanted,” I said bitterly.

“That wouldn’t surprise me at all,” Comenius commented. “Many of the humans and shifters who’ve fled the city have run right into the arms of the Resistance. Including Noria,” he added softly with a glance at Annia.

I visited with Comenius for a little longer, but there wasn’t much more to say, so in the end I decided to head back to Rowanville and see how my apartment had fared. As I’d expected, my section of town had not been spared by the vitriol rolling through Solantha. Anti-mage graffiti covered once-pristine boutiques and storefronts, windows were either boarded up or shuttered, and the only signs of life were the occasional set of eyes that peeked through window curtains as I passed.

But the worst thing by far was the envelope stuck to my front door with a knife, both blade and paper crusted with dried blood. There was no name on it, but since it was stuck to my door I had to assume it was for me. I carefully removed the knife and envelope, then eased into my apartment.

I’d half expected the place to be trashed and graffitied, so I was relieved to see that it was exactly the way I’d left it, dirty dishes on the counter included. I tossed the knife and letter onto the coffee table, then went through the coming-home ritual of hanging up my coat and shoes, washing the dishes on the counter, and cleaning any blood or grime off my weapons. It might sound silly, but after all I’d been through, I craved a slice of normality before I tackled the bloody letter.

Eventually I ran out of things to do, and with my kitchen cleaned, my couch cushions plumped, and my surfaces dusted, I sank down onto the couch with the letter in my hand. I used the bloody knife to slit the envelope open – because hey, I might as well – and with a shaking hand unfolded the single page inside.



* * *



Sunaya Baine,

Despite multiple attempts to plant your feet onto the correct path, you have chosen the wrong side. Your efforts to thwart our plans have been noted, and retribution will be swift.



* * *



The note was typed and unsigned, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out who’d sent it. With a sigh, I ripped it up, then tossed the pieces into the air. The Resistance might think they were my biggest problem, but they were just one more big bad bully trying to stomp me into the ground because I didn’t fit their mold. But if they thought they were going to get away with this, they were just as wrong as everyone else who’d tried to break me.