A murmur went across the parking lot, heralding the arrival of a large group of large women. Statuesque would be a better way to put it. Damien had invited the valkyrie to come over, and they were more than happy to make an appearance. Those ladies worked hard, and they needed a break, too. Helga, at the helm of the group, gave me a wave and a huge smile. I waved back, watching as the valkyrie were welcomed with drinks and ushered straight towards the buffet line.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” I said, shaking my head. “Us at a werewolf party, and there’s a witch at the grill, and they’re treating the valkyrie like they’re the guests of honor. It’s ridiculous. It’s sweet.”
“This is nice,” Asher said again. “I like it.”
Gil took another swig of his beer, swallowed, grimaced. “We should stay.”
None of us nodded. None of us spoke. But I knew that we all agreed.
Sure, the place was far from the kind of big city life the boys and I were so accustomed to. And sure, it only had one boba tea place, and zero Filipino restaurants. But with a little work – okay, a lot of work, considering what we’d have to do to reconstruct the Everett House – it wouldn’t be so hard to think of it as a home away from home. Perhaps in time, I’d see it as something more.
I patted my jacket, even though I knew I couldn’t feel the Filigreed Masque hidden away in one of its pocket dimensions. Vilmas and the Scepter of California didn’t know I had it. I could just claim that it got lost in the fight. I could take that risk, have the threat of the Scepter looming over me.
But if I handed it over, then the Lorica would come knocking, no doubt. Bastion would certainly remember saving the artifact from dropping in the sinkhole. I could lie about it, though not forever. You can’t keep something as strange and powerful as the Filigreed Masque and not expect the Lorica to sniff it out.
No. The best course of action would be t
o give it to Vilmas. There were so many rumors about the Filigreed Masque’s magic that it’d be impossible to tell what all it could really do without extensive testing. But you know what? Let the Scepter figure out for herself if the Masque really did protect vampires from the sun. Best case scenario, she could check out the beach. Worst case scenario? Well, worst case was still best case for me, at least until a different vampire dusted the Scepter’s ashes off the throne and took over as the new one.
Best of all, I could use the Filigreed Masque as a bargaining chit. Vilmas liked blood magic so much, did he? Well, maybe he could teach me a thing or two in return for the artifact. Maybe it was time to live a little larger, out here in the woods and wilderness where I could give the arcane arts a fair shake. It never hurts to pick up a new skill, right? For some people, it’s knitting, maybe gardening. For me, it could be blood magic.
How hard could it be?
But more than that, I could be an extra asset in battle, use my blood, or even the blood of my enemies against them. All magic, or so I’d been told, could work like a knife, or like fire, a tool for both creation and destruction. A little extra help crushing my enemies? Hey, I’ll take it. Wizard Sterling, reporting for duty.
And the next time someone shredded my friend’s skin to pieces, the next time someone close to my shriveled black heart was hurt, I wouldn’t be so useless. I could ease their pain, and put them back together again.
I could keep them around longer. I could keep them safe.
Asher nudged me with his elbow. “What are you thinking about right now? You’ve got this stupid look on your face.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, grinning at the moon.
Stay in Silveropolis, huh? This was going to be an adventure. Something special, something new. And dangerous, too, probably. But what’s unlife without a little bit of spice?
Carpe noctem, baby. Seize the night.
END