He’s here to help me—us—and despite the stakes I need to be very careful to make sure I never tip that balance into using him.
Seriously this time: Do not ever tell him to fetch.
Not only because our alliance would no doubt end very quickly, but because I am resolved not to be as shitty to others as Evram modeled for me.
This time it’s Nariel who turns the conversation away from this abruptly fraught path, asking, “Why not the fjords? They’re one of the most powerful spots in Europe and well-protected.”
“Too difficult to access—the most powerful spots are underwater, and I need to be right by the source,” I explain.
“Then why not a place more central?”
“Central to where? The strongest ‘centrally’ located power spot on a continental landmass I’ve found is in Tibet, but China’s treatment of Tibetan sacrality makes that spot’s protection too risky for what I need. Tibet’s not the easiest place to get to, anyway.”
As I wait for responses to my messages, we go back and forth like this for a while—not talking about our deepest ambitions this time, or even about magic theory. But somehow it’s still the closest I’ve felt to someone in ages.
Nariel prods me with magic, and I get to justenjoyit again. He challenges me, but doesn’t demand miracles. And even though I’m in theory the one in charge of this operation and am only asking him to contribute stealth, I realize he’s figured out how to support me and work for our success beyond that— by helping me get ready.
It’s both a disappointment and a relief when my phone vibrates with a response.
I’d felt exhilarated when I stole magic, and when I fought a magus adept with it for the first time in years. But even back on High Earth, I was so driven with magic that I’d almost forgotten to appreciate these smaller moments. Poking Nariel feels likehomein a way I hadn’t even realized I’d been missing, and that’s a completely absurd position for me to be in with a demon I barely know and whom I’m not certain I can trust.
The complication of dealing with wizards I can expect not to stick their necks out for me—that’s something I know what to do with, and I let the old anger sharpen in me as I respond, moving things in place for the next step.
Even if everything goes smoothly, I can’t imagine we’re not about to have a fight on our hands.
Chapter 6
On the other end of customs, Seamus O’Connor is waiting for us in well-worn jeans and a loose t-shirt. Combined with his stubbly beard, close-cropped reddish brown hair, and muscled forearms, he has a casually rugged look without even trying.
What you see is what you get with Seamus.
Even if what you get is not necessarily what you want.
It’s refreshing. In a way.
No hellos from Seamus; he glares as soon as he sees us. “Who’s this, then?” he demands by way of greeting.
“Seamus, meet Nathaniel,” I say, switching back to Nariel’s incognito name. The fewer people who know he’s a fallen angel, the less likely we are to tempt fate. With the cap on, you certainly wouldn’t expect it. “Nathaniel, Seamus.”
Nariel’s eyebrows lift at Seamus’ accent. “With all of the UK to choose from, you called an Irish wizard?” he asks me.
“An Irishman is less likely to be concerned with circumventing British security,” I explain dryly.
Seamus puts in, “But heisconcerned about who he’s getting into trouble with. What’s your story?”
“He’s a spirit who’s going to help cloak us,” I say.
“Wasn’t asking you, Sierra.” Seamus stares hard at Nariel.
I open my mouth to snap something on the order ofTough, I’m in charge,because letting him control the conversation is not how I want to start this. But at the last second I think better of it and roll my eyes. “Fine, go ahead and drop your trousers and get the stick-measuring over with then.”
Both of them look at me.
After a moment Seamus says, “You have no appreciation for the finer things in life.”
I make a show of looking them both up and down. “Don’t I?”
He snorts, and Nathaniel’s mouth twitches into a smile.
