The Darkest Midnight. R. A. Finley

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СКАЧАТЬ peaceful beauty of the snow-dusted foothills and the comfort that seemed to emanate from the surrounding mountains were things that couldn’t be made entirely out of illusion, of course. But their effects could be augmented. Heightened. It would take an enormous amount of power, doing something on such a large scale.

      He was about to close his eyes and use a different kind of Sight when a shockingly loud, sputtering roar ripped through the night air like something let loose from the mechanized bowels of hell. And there, in the area called The Plaza, roughly twenty riders attempted to start their motorbikes, with varying rates of success.

      It took a minute or two, and by then the noise had gone from intolerable to worse.

      With much bellowing and fist-waving, they twice circled the Plaza before speeding down Main Street. People on the pavements stopped to watch, and from what Cormac could see of their faces, reactions ranged from disgust to outright fear. He found himself in accord. Dark energy swirled around the gang. Whether the riders possessed it—and could therefore wield it—or merely carried it in bespelled weaponry or armor, he couldn’t tell. But its presence was enough to give him a chill.

      Nearly all the riders were men, and large men at that, but there were a few women (also large). And everyone, no matter the gender, wore a black leather jacket emblazoned with a simple graphic in silver: Thor’s Hammer below the word, “Rekkr.”

      Intentional misspellings were common enough in the realm of rowdy biker gangs, but with that particular pairing? Chances were slim to none. Which meant that was not a misspelling of the English word “wrecker,” but the accepted modern spelling of the Old Norse for “warrior.”

      The insufferable roar dimmed to a low rumble as they left the area.

      “Mr. Sykes?”

      Pushing aside his unease, Cormac turned to face the hostess from the restaurant. He pitched his voice to the gruff baritone used when he made the reservation. “Yes?”

      The young woman smiled politely. “Your table is ready. If you would please come with me?”

      “Of course.” After one last look at the taillights fading into the distance, he followed her inside.

      

      “Sorry, sorry. I’m late.” An obviously frazzled Kendra took the stool next to Abby. “Pasquale changed his mind about being ready with the menu, so the tasting is off. Again, actually.” Her hands fisted on the bar. “This is the third time he’s pulled this.”

      Something like anger flashed—visibly—in her eyes, briefly turning them from mossy green to emerald.

      Either Thia had failed to notice such things before her admittance “behind magic’s curtain,” as Madame Demetka put it, or her friends were more comfortable with letting them show in her presence.

      “I’d call him out on it,” Kendra continued with an impatient flick of long, coppery hair, “but we’re lucky to have him. And if he throws a tantrum and quits this close to the Holidays….” She shuddered dramatically. “So, ladies, what’s it to be? The Landmark’s usual menu, or would you prefer somewhere else?”

      “Doesn’t matter to me,” Thia said, which left Abby—

      —who shrugged. “We’re here. And he isn’t.”

      Kendra laughed. “Okay, then. Here, it is.”

      Waving off their tab for two lavender sodas, she bid the bartender goodnight and led the way the lobby elevator. It sat empty and waiting, its doors conveniently (or perhaps magically) open.

      “Things didn’t go so well this morning?” Kendra asked as they sped smoothly to the top floor.

      Thia sighed. She had managed to push all of that to the back of her mind. “Broke a bunch of jars, scattered stuff all over the floor. Thought I’d wrecked the door again, but it rattled along okay.”

      Her friends exchanged a look.

      “That’s not so bad, really,” offered Kendra.

      Thia snorted.

      “No, no—I mean it. The door worked! That’s a definite improvement.”

      “I could’ve imploded the whole damn garage!”

      “You don’t know that.”

      “The whole place was shaking,” Thia said, incredulous. “I’m amazed the shelves didn’t come down. I can’t control the power.”

      Maybe she never would.

      “Nonsense,” Abby said.

      Thia stepped up to the doors as the elevator slowed to an easy stop. She didn’t want to get into this now. Her failures and inadequacies, how overwhelmed and disheartened she felt—these were not things to air in public. Or, possibly, even among friends. But whatever the case, tonight she wanted to relax. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

      She was the first out when the doors opened, and so led the way down the short hall to the restaurant. To the left of its entrance were doors to the garden and saltwater pool, and Thia caught a glimpse of twinkling lights and people out enjoying the evening before her attention went to exchanging greetings with the hostess at the podium.

      Smiling serenely, the elegant blonde gave them all a bright smile.

      “Hey, Sam.” Kendra came up behind Thia. “I believe you’re holding table seven.”

      “I am.” She pulled three menus from a stack. “Want an escort?”

      “No, I got this.” Kendra took the offered menus and Thia and Abby followed her into the busy room. To take advantage of the daytime views, one of the long sides of the rectangular room was made of floor-to-ceiling glass (the other hosted the bar). Tonight it was all about the garden, dressed in what must have been a zillion tiny lights. It was like looking out on a fairy land.

      The kind she once imagined, anyway, thanks to cartoons and storybooks: all whimsical beauty and innocent fun. She had no idea what a real one might be like.

      The table Kendra took them to was one of five set along the glass wall. As they settled, she handed out the menus. “Is this okay?”

      “It’s perfect.”

      Abby had yet to look away from the view. “How much is your electric bill?”

      “Gorgeous, isn’t it?” Kendra’s pride was well-deserved. “We should take a walk later.”

      “Sure. But seriously—how much?”

      Thia laughed. “Why, Abby? Are you thinking of trying this at home?” Her house sat on a fair amount of acreage in the mountains northeast of town. What she hadn’t left as natural woodland, she had landscaped beautifully.

      “Some of it, maybe. The coven might hold our Beltane СКАЧАТЬ