Don’t I owe them so much more?
With each gulp of air, I steady my resolve. I swore to stay by their sides through whatever we faced. Imeantthat promise.
I can hold on to my promise as long as I have to, can’t I? Give my doppelganger’s matches nothing. Keep pushing them away if they pull close again. Dig down to the bottom of the mystery until I have enough that Daphne will send me back.
For the men waiting for me at home. For the people here who might still be hurt if the murderer isn’t caught.
What could happen to Dad, if the monster is still roaming free? To whoever their next targets might be?
I straighten up and find myself staring into the mirror. My hand rises to the scoop neckline of my blouse and tugs it lower so I can see the pink lines of the scars etched across my chest.
I’ve hurt a lot of people, none of whom I really wanted to. I’ve gotten as strong as possiblesoI could hurt them.
This once, I can use that strength for something good. To see real justice done. To restore the bonds my aunt broke.
My reflection’s jaw sets at a firm angle.
My matches deserve so much better than wallowing. Elodie Ishani Devine isn’t backing down.
Twenty-Two
Asher
Siobhan Cosgrave makes a rough gesture toward the front of the pub. “Just boost all the spells you did last time. I can tell the effect is starting to fade.”
“Same payment as last time too?” I check, keeping my tone mild. If she wants to barter me down, I’ll be flexible—both because it won’t be quite as much effort when I’ve already worked out the best approach and because I’m not sure how many knives she’s carrying for when someone pisses her off. It can’t hurt to aim high, though.
Siobhan considers me for a moment, her face as hard as the gelled light red hair that falls in a stiff line to just above her shoulders. Her eyes have always reminded me unnervingly of pebbles, flat and gray.
But she has enough of her own flexibility to have reached out to me for my first job with the lucent branch of the Irish mob. Ayounger cousin of hers still at Luminary mentioned my skill with defensive magic to her and then passed on her invite to me.
Since that first job almost a year ago, Siobhan and a few of the other younger Cosgraves who are just getting established in the family business have brought me in at least once a month. I guess with the lives gangsters lead, they tend to focus mainly on aggressive skills. I’m able to add a little something that no one in their regular sphere can do quite as well.
So she doesn’t really want to piss me off either.
Siobhan taps her fingers against her hip and then nods with a jerk. “Sure, that’s fair. Don’t take too long about it.”
I restrain my smile of victory. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”
I start my work on the outside, concentrating on the condensed ephemera still embedded in the door and windows. The strands I wound together remain, reinforcing the steel, wood, and glass against any kind of assault, but as Siobhan sensed, they’re fraying.
Pulling more ephemera from the sidewalk beneath me and the building within, I rebuild those ties to full strength. I can bolster the materials down to their molecules. Create an inner wall of solidified energy to hold them against cracking or shattering. Weave a more complex casting around the lock to stabilize the mechanics.
The ephemera tickles through my limbs and lungs with each step of the casting. There’s a rhythm to it, constructing a shield piece by piece against whatever threats may come. A satisfaction in recognizing I’m doing my work well.
It’s not a sensation I’m especially familiar with. I handle most of my assignments competently enough, but my Luminary professors evaluate them with a subtle but unmistakable air of disappointment. Every criticism they offer is laced withan unspoken question:Why aren’t you as brilliant as your brother?
I don’t think I can say I’m even brilliant at my preferred areas of focus—defense and healing—but I’ve worked hard enough to rank near the top of those classes.
My approach isn’t exactly the same as the by-the-books tactics my classmates prefer. Probably because none of them expect to be using those tactics on a regular basis. My techniques might not follow the professors’ specifications perfectly, but it turns out they’re pretty damn good when put into use in the real world.
Once I’m finished with the pub’s face, I duck through the front door. The place won’t officially open for another hour, but several of Siohban’s colleagues lounge around a few of the scuffed wooden tables. The amber lights overhead glint off their glasses and the bottles lined behind the broad oak bar.
The tang of alcohol in the air mingles with a trace of smoke from the cigarettes a couple of the guys aren’t supposed to have lit inside. The mobsters eye me for a moment before Siobhan passes by and smacks one on the back of the head. They return to their conversation, more hushed than before.
I don’t know what business they get up to here, and I don’t care. As long as I get paid, I’m good. Maybe these people aren’t the type most would think deserve protection, but I’m ensuring there’ll be a little less damage done in the world, one way or another.
After I reinforce my magic on the inner side of the door and windows, I direct my attention all across the room. This last strategy is something I’ve been developing completely by myself, drawing on a mix of examples in our textbooks as well as independent research and bits and pieces Jesse’s shared with me.
