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Except I didn't have to drown in darkness to heal Peter the way I had for Sera. His was a normal, clean kind of pain that came from working hard to become the best of the best. Not the cloying, sick magic that had almost killed a toddler.

  One part of me watched as Peter became whole. The other half took note that my dark thoughts didn't overwhelm me. They sucked to think about, but didn't send me into a rage fit or panic attack the way they used to.

  "That's better," Peter said. He slipped his hand over mine and kept it on his cheek. I stared into his eyes, wishing the room were just a little lighter so I could see the green around his pupils. His gaze flickered over my shoulder, and he grinned. "I guess Peony has some errands to run."

  Oh. We were alone. The corners of my mouth lifted, but before I could smile back, Peter moved closer, his hand sliding around to the back of my neck, leaving a trail of Light all along the path his finger traced across my skin.

  "Well, then," I whispered as I leaned forward and kissed him.

  The absolute best part of my day.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Bittersweet

  I was up late, then slept late. Normal for a magician who worked so much at night, but even more important now that I had signed on to apprentice a little alchemist girl. She was attending a special school on the other side of the globe and kept the same schedule whether she was there or at home. Our afternoon was when she woke up, too.

  "What do you want for breakfast?" I asked as we walked towards the stone staircase. The curtains were tied back and the late afternoon sun made patterns of light on the floor.

  Sera scrunched her whole face when she smiled. "Pancakes."

  Laughing, I tweaked her adorable nose. "Of course you do. Good thing we have a never-ending supply." She always wanted pancakes. It was the first thing we fed her when she came to live with us. I was relieved she had settled in and wasn't afraid to voice her preferences. Even make simple demands upon occasion like any little kid that had just turned four years old. We weren't sure if she had been harmed during her early childhood, but by all indications, her father had done a great job protecting her from the Taines.

  I fiddled with the tri-metal, banded bracelet on my wrist as we reached the ground floor and walked to the kitchen. Gold, silver, lead. Guilt still squeezed my heart when I thought about Oberon's former coachman. Aurum Quaesitor had sacrificed himself to save my life. To save his daughter's future. I didn't know how to deal with that kind of debt.

  "Hello there, ladies," Mort greeted us. He was already seated, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows to keep them clean as he ate. "Pancakes again?"

  Sera nodded and then joined him where he sat eating a steak and stuffed potato. A magician's kitchen was always open for any meal. I pulled out the ingredients to mix up a batch of banana chocolate chip pancakes. With whipped cream. I pressed my lips together, hiding my grin as Sera chattered away with Mort, who patiently took in every word. I didn't want them to think I was laughing at them.

  "Did Aunt Peony chase you off?" I asked him as I placed a small stack of pancakes in front of Sera. She stopped talking as she ate.

  "I learned long ago to stay out of her way," Mort replied. He stood and carried his empty plate to the sink. "She's more efficient than any general I've ever seen. And with her boys coming home, she's more focused than ever."

  I giggled. "You just don't want to be roped into chair duty."

  "Wrong. I want to avoid tent duty." With a wink and pat to Sera's head, he departed. I laughed. Setting up the various tents and awnings outdoors was boring work. Worse than helping arrange the extra chairs for the arriving guests. Not that there weren't plenty of capable servants. But Peony asked anyone to help if they didn't already look busy and Mort was too much a gentleman to ignore somebody in need.

  I slipped into the chair across from Sera. Breakfast foods were delicious, but my stomach could never handle them right after I awoke. Instead, I blew on a spoonful of the Irish stew the cook had made the evening before.

  "How did class go yesterday?" I felt it was my duty to keep abreast of everything in my future apprentice's life, but I also genuinely cared about her.

  Sera licked her fork clean of whipped cream and then set it down on her empty plate. "Ms. Genoa is so nice. She let me stand at the front of the line for recess."

  "Wow, that's great. What a special privilege," I said. I wasn't too old to remember what it felt like to lead the rest of the class. "You must be very well-behaved to earn such an honor. Did you learn anything new?"

  "Uh huh," she said oh so helpfully as she licked her finger clean of a small smear of chocolate. She wasn't in a talkative mood, I guess.

  A clatter of footsteps rushed by out in the hall. My eyes had a hard time taking in all the activity as the servants hurried passed, carrying various decorations. I caught sight of my aunt trailing behind, stacks of linens in her arms. Then Cephalaea, one of the guards who was a new mother and assigned to watch over Sera, peered into the kitchen. I wasn't sure what I would do with my apprentice when the guard resumed her usual duties. Caring, patient, and able to kill. What more could I ask for in a nanny?

  "Peony asked me to find you. You've received a message. She had me leave it in your uncle's study."

  I nodded as I cleared the table and helped Sera wash her sticky hands. "I'm meeting with him as soon as we're done in here," I explained as I patted Sera's shoulder before she followed Cephalaea out the back door. It was an old servant's entrance and led to the gardens. Playtime always preceded private study. We kept up a firm schedule ever since my aunt told us it was the best way to acclimate the toddler to her new surroundings and would help her sort through the loss of her father.

  The hallway was empty by the time I finished clearing away the dishes, drips of batter, and griddle. I made my way to Armageddon's study, hoping Peter would be there - he was a good sounding board for my conflicting emotions. I felt different, upheaval twisting my insides, as if I were dreading the magical new year celebration. Which was strange, because it was one of my favorite holidays.

  ◆◆◆

  "How's your head?" my uncle asked when I arrived. "Mort said you were pretty banged up after practice yesterday."

  I slipped into one of the comfortable chairs tucked in the corner where Armageddon promised my aunt he would hide the best and ugliest furniture in the castle. "All better now," I replied. "The shields are working out."

  We were using the shield charm I found during my studies over the last year. But much like a bulletproof vest, while it kept us from the worst injuries, it still left bruises from the force of the blows we took. Better than dying, though. And now that we reinforced the shields with lead to double their power, we fought each other with full strength during practice. Which helped prepare us for an enemy who would never hold back.

  "Good." He seemed distracted. His short cropped salt-and-pepper hair looked slightly rumpled, as if he had fallen asleep at his desk again. He spent most of his time in his study ever since we discovered the true purpose of the actions the Taines made against us. Causing the car wreck that took my parents from me, competing for my company, and then after that failed, trying to steal Rector Enterprises by making a false blood heir claim. All were only distractions from their real goal.

  All out war.

  The dark half of the High Magician Council wanted to take over. Not just the magic governing body, either. They wanted to rule the world. The clans agreed centuries before that we would leave the mundane humans to their own laws and we ours, but that was no longer enough for them. They decided their power gave them the right to rule, not a unique concept among the upper classes throughout history. But with the extra advantage of magic - they could succeed.

  Once we learned of the plot, Armageddon began calling in the Irregulars to congregate at Castle Laurus, his stronghold in the Pacific Northwest. Over time, his plans altered. Most agents still came and went on different assignments - we still had the usual missions to accomplish. But we were
concentrating our numbers on the west coast now, especially near San Francisco where the magical Center of the Universe moved way back in the 1970s. Both dark and light magicians were at their most powerful there and it was the natural epicenter for the conflict.

  Not that most people knew anything was going on. We barely learned about their planned revolution ourselves even though it had been in the works for a long time. Back when my aunt and uncle were kids themselves. Maybe longer. Thankfully, Armageddon was the best leader the Irregulars had ever had.

  Although even he hadn't known it was coming.

  "Cephalaea said a message arrived." I tugged at the same loose thread on the arm of the upholstered chair that always occupied my time when I visited my uncle.

  "Ah, yes. Personal business first," he said as he handed me a small scroll. It was sealed with wax bearing the Rector family crest, which meant it came from the manor house. I hadn't been there in over a year. Not since the funeral and my seventeenth birthday, when I lost all rights to Rector Enterprises.

  With my uncle's help, I won back the family business. The house had always been mine regardless, but I was a target for a lot of powerful enemies and still an apprentice. It was best I lived with my guardians until I reached my final majority of twenty-one. Another year closer now that I was eighteen.

  I slid my fingernail under the wax seal, emblazoned with a dragon holding the nearly balanced scales representing the Rector clan. Membership of one. Me.

  My eyes skimmed the contents. "Looks like the foreman wants instructions regarding a special order my father placed before he died," I said. My throat tightened around the words, but I shook off the sadness.

  "Oh?" My uncle's eyebrow rose. His silver gaze glittered as he waited for more details. Everything was suspect - out of the ordinary and the mundane.

  "It seems he wanted the glass wall of the house replaced with Rector crystal sheets." My father was a young man when the magical world relocated to California, and he brought along his favorite Rector family home. An Irish manor that appealed to his sense of style, which meant it was basically a rectangle box made of brick. He loved modern buildings, and that was as close as our ancestors ever got. Since it was right outside of San Francisco, he replaced an entire side of the building with glass so we could see the Pacific Ocean.

  And now, another change.

  My forehead wrinkled as I thought that over. Donovan Rector wanted a wall made of the most expensive material in existence. Rector crystals - depending on type, quality, and size - were worth far more than diamonds. He had ordered massive, flawless sheets of the best. To use as windows.

  Odd.

  "Is there a problem?" Armageddon asked. He relaxed back into his chair, reassured the message contained a legitimate request. There was no way an order like that could be faked. The trace was crimson soaked black, something only my family left behind.

  "Not exactly. The foreman wants to know if I want to continue with the project and when to start construction." I tossed the scroll onto my uncle's desk and wandered over to his window. I pretended to look outside, but saw nothing except my father's face, his dark brown eyes looking at me with love the last time I had seen him. His chestnut hair, an exact match to mine, with no hint of gray. And there never would be.

  "Do you?" My uncle was a wonderful guardian, guiding me through the nightmare that was my life with strength and patience. And respect. The manor house was mine to do with as I pleased.

  "Yeah. I mean, the crystal has already been mined and cut. It would be silly to just chuck it now. Especially since it was done to his exact specifications. I don't want to waste it." Pretty much anyone who could afford it would have bought those nearly priceless sheets. But they were mine. A last gift from my father.

  "I think that's a wise decision. I'm sure Donovan had his reasons. You know, your mother loved to gaze at the world through your family's crystals when she was a child. Miranda said they added a warm glow to everything." His voice never changed when he said my mother's name. But I always knew, somehow, that he loved his sister despite their estrangement throughout my childhood. Except for a short visit when I was little, I had never seen my uncle until he showed up for the funeral.

  So many strange, unanswered questions.

  "Mother used to say that sometimes when I was home." I spent my childhood away at school like most magicians from powerful families. Although my parents moved me a lot, from place to place, all over the globe, trying to find the best teachers and diviners and healers to help me connect to my magic in time for my seventeenth birthday. Which didn't happen.

  "Her affinity for your father and his magic made for a powerful, bright, and sweet daughter."

  "Speaking of sweet," I drawled, hoping to shake off my memories, his words, and the emotions that came with them. "There's no way that scroll showed up by itself."

  Armageddon's eyes twinkled as he opened his desk drawer and slipped out the tartan patterned tin that always heralded my cook's shortbread cookies. "Did I say bright? I meant, devious. Ah, well. I suppose I can share."

  I laughed. We had settled down over the last long months of preparing to battle for our future. But it was still fun to play around sometimes, teasing each other and stealing special treats. And the cookies really were the best.

  We were munching away when Peter arrived. He had slept even later than I had. Despite my aunt and I working in tandem to heal him, he needed more time to complete his healing than I did. I guess having such a hard head gave me the advantage.

  Peter swiped a few of the cookies I offered before he collapsed into the chair next to mine. "Sorry I made you wait."

  "We kept ourselves occupied," my uncle assured him. "How are you feeling?"

  The affection the two had for each other was obvious. Armageddon had raised Peter. Sometimes I felt a twinge of jealousy for the fascinating and loving home where my boyfriend had grown up. Not that my parents didn't love me above all else. They had. But I wasn't around them that often and they weren't the affectionate type.

  "Better. Ready for our next assignment," he added. Now that we were official partners, it would be rare for one of us to go out into the field without the other. At least until we were no longer apprentices. It was imperative that we learned to work together seamlessly. As Mort pointed out, we had most of that down. But we still didn't instantly know what the other would do. And until we did, we were at a disadvantage.

  "We can discuss that after the Eostre celebrations. But since your aunt has the preparations handled, now may be a good time for Lia to visit the manor. To check on things. And oversee the plans for this new crystal wall."

  That was a great idea. Better than being roped into manual labor by Peony. As often happens in the magical world, the timing was perfect.

  After explaining my father's wishes for the manor house, Peter agreed to go. While it wasn't the same as spending the day on the beach, or walking in the flower fields and forest on my uncle's land, we would be together. And since it was outside the borders to Castle Laurus, potentially dangerous. So definitely not boring.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Home

  Since it was just me and Peter, I called for the limo. We still had all the usual guards and outriders. Armageddon wouldn't let me go without adequate protection. And this was the first time I would be at the manor house in over a year so a little show would add to the feeling of importance that had slipped over me.

  "You nervous?" Peter asked. He was fiddling with a lock of my hair. I wore it down because I knew he loved it that way. We were always busy with a mission, or lessons, or combat training and it was usually up in a bun. Our schedule left little time for us to relax and let loose. Not that I didn't want to leave my hair free upon occasion just for me. But I liked when he fiddled with it.

  "I guess. A little," I admitted. "I don't know how I'm going to feel when I get there. And I've already had to deal with all these emotions I can't explain."

  Peter's fingers stopped playin
g with my hair and slid down my arm until he reached my hand and squeezed. "James and Richard will be home soon," he said idly.

  I didn't know how he did it, but Peter always seemed to identify what was at the root of any problem. "I'm glad my cousins are coming back." My stomach clenched, then my fears came tumbling out. "Mostly. I mean, I'm nervous. I've never met them. How will they feel about another orphan showing up while they were away? And I'm a handful. Not like you. You're great. I'm a wreck and cause so much trouble. I'm dangerous. Maybe they won't want me around Aunt Peony."

  A memory flashed through my mind. Armageddon, stepping in front of my aunt, protecting her from me as I lost every bit of control. I was crying, panicked, terrified. I had just killed thousands of birds, sent them into darkness without a thought about where they should go. Obliterated all of them. The castle forest was never the same after that. It used to be a kind of sanctuary. Now there were few birds in the lonely branches.

  I guess knowledge of the mass bird genocide had spread. And who could blame them? I wouldn't build a nest there, either.

  "Your cousins are great," he assured me. "They never resented any of the time Peony spent with me. It was hard when I first arrived. My family were dark magicians - we live a different life than light magicians do. I was terrified of what would happen to me here." He cleared his throat with deliberation, as if to give himself a legitimate excuse to pause. But he had no idea how hard he was gripping my hand. "I'm grateful for everything they've done. Richard and James are like brothers. And they'll be the same for you. I promise."

  No goosebumps rose on my arms, no prickling at the back of my scalp. No sign of a lie. That was a promise he could keep.

  "Ever since I finally embraced my near-balance, my emotions haven't been going crazy. It took me off-guard to feel something so strong when I couldn't pinpoint the source. You know me so well." Better than I knew myself, apparently.