Sneak Peek

DARK WATCHER
by Lilith Saintcrow  

One

 The rain poured down, glittering and flashing, smashing its silver needles against the pavement and the blank buildings. Theodora locked the shop’s front door and flattened her hand on the cold glass. Her rings sparkled, and the flash of her triggering the wards was almost hidden.

Then again, nobody without Power would see it anyway. And nobody with Power would be out on a night like tonight. There was the freezing rain, and the persistent smell of danger in the wet, icy air. Theo slipped her gloves on and held her long woolen pea coat closed at her throat. Her scarf was wrapped around her neck, and her grandmother’s ruby necklace was a comforting weight against her breastbone.

Theo yawned and started her walk home. Maybe I should stop and get some tea, she thought, and then smiled at herself. You’re just hoping to find someone to talk to, Theo. Admit it.

Business had been good lately, but very little of it had been serious. Some high-school kids had discovered the Craft, and since most of them were upper-middle-class, they had to have all the toys. Well, that was good for Theo’s wallet. Good for a trip to Mexico , to lay in the sun and turn brown and listen to the voices in the sand and the sea. Zihuatanejo, rhymed with tomato, and she was saving for that vacation.

There were the regulars, too, and her employees—Mari was busy getting ready for her finals, and Elise had something special in mind that she’d been stocking pink quartz and rose-oil for. Another bring-me-love spell. I wonder for who?  Maybe Mark, he’s been moping around lately. Poor man. If Elise would only look his way for a moment, she might find more than she bargains for. But then again, he’s too much of a nice guy for her. She likes bad boys

Theo put her head down and walked briskly up the dark street, her long chestnut hair already damp. It would be sodden by the time she reached the Creation.

She took one quick glance back when she reached the end of the street. Her shop—the Magick Cauldron—lay dark and glittering faintly in its brick building. The wards were glimmering to her Sight, and all was as it should be.

Theo sighed. She loved the shop, and she loved her life, but…sometimes she wished…

It was normal to wish, but a witch had to be careful of her wishes. “A little excitement,” she said, softly. “And maybe…Goddess, would it be too much to ask to find a decent guy? I mean, the last time I dated was two whole years ago, and that was such a disaster. Then again, I did it to myself, by wishing for a man and not being careful about the terms and conditions.”

Theo laughed. There was nobody on the street, so she wouldn’t look too crazy, walking along and talking to herself. The wind was uneasy tonight, whispering between the buildings, but Theo simply walked a little faster, the rain wetting her hair and her face, soaking into her coat. Danger in the air? Let it come. Theo was safe enough in the hands of the Goddess.

She began to hum. Suzanne had written another song, and it was hard to get it out of her head. Bring me down to the god in the glen, bring me down to the green trees dancing

Well, what would it hurt? Theo lifted her voice, singing. Her voice would be lost in the wind and the rain. “Bring me down to the god in the glen, bring me down to the green trees dancing. Bring me down to the Lady’s mirror, bring me down to the place of the dance…da-da-da-dum, bring me a song, da-da-da-dum, bring me a stone, da-da-da-dum, bring me along, along to the place of the Lady’s throne—”

She had a pleasant contra lt o, and the wind answered, sliding between the buildings and suddenly smelling more like spring than the end of fall, just before Samhain. The trees, losing their leaves, rattled in the sudden wind, adding their voices to hers. The rain fe lt sweet for a moment, and warm, and Theo’s laughter echoed in the concrete canyons of the city.

 

Two

 

“That’s her?” Dante asked. “That’s the target?” He couldn’t keep the disbelief out of his voice.

“It is.” Hanson crouched out of sight, looking dark and miserable in the rain. They were on the roof of a bank, watching the woman. “According to the intel, that’s the next one. They think she’s the most dangerous to them. They could be right, you know.”

Dante stuffed his hands in his coat pockets and looked down again. His senses were sharper than any normal’s, and he could see the glimmer in the air around the woman. She was tall and slim, and moving as if she was dancing down the dark rain-slick sidewalk. The power trailing her smelled like green growing things, and she was making enough noise to be heard throughout the entire city. “They could be,” he agreed. “She’s lit up like a marquee sign. How do they find them?” he asked, shaking his head. The rain was slicking his short black hair to his forehead, and he was beginning to feel the cold. He ignored it. There was so much to ignore in this line of work. “Don’t they care that the Lightbringers…” He trailed off. He asked the question often, and nobody seemed to have a good answer.

“Who knows? They’re on a Crusade, man. They don’t care. Got their own brave new world to bring.” Hanson blinked, and then looked around again. “I’ve got to go, I’ve got my own witch to look after. You got the dossier?” He knew very well that Dante had the slim file and would memorize and destroy it in the next twelve hours.

“Of course I got it, quit bugging me. I can do this.” Dante looked back down to where the woman had stopped and was looking in a shop window. The Darkness inside him shifted uneasily, and he forced it down, ignoring the fresh bite of pain. To be this close to a Lightbringer made it more active. “So what does she do?”

“Runs that little occu lt shop. You can see the shields from here, man. She’s like a volcano. You’d better go.” Hanson shifted from foot to foot and grinned. It was a wolf’s lazy grin. His blue eyes glittered in the uncertain light—his blond hair was much darker now, slick with rain. “They’re close. Whole damn city crawling with them.”

“All right, go back to watching your witch, and I’ll go and watch mine. Call if you need me.” Dante made the offer, knowing it would prick Hanson’s pride.

“I don’t need you. I’ve been doing just fine at this for a long time.”

“Not long enough, if you’re still doing it.” Dante gathered himself and leapt lightly to the top of the brick wall. He looked down at the concrete four stories below. His coat moved around his legs—a long black leather trench coat, which went really well with the whole punk-angel fashion trip—and he glanced back at Hanson. “Honor, brother.”

“Duty, brother. Good luck.”

Dante nodded and leapt.

There was a breathless moment of almost-flight, the laws of physics bending just a little, and then his boots touched down. He drew the rainy air around him like a cloak and followed the trail the woman had left in the air.

If the Crusade was in this city, they were going to move on her soon. It was only a matter of time. A witch running an occu lt shop, he thought. Gods. They have no sense of discretion anymore. Can’t blame them, though. Lightbringers.

Dante lengthened his stride a little and hurried after the witch.

 

Text Copyright 2004 by Lilith Saintcrow
Web Copyright 2004 by ImaJinn Books