No. Fuck, no! Mag reeled with torment at the choice before him. Then rage washed it all away.
“Fucking bastard,” he bellowed at Norwell. This pretentious twat would not steal what had taken sweat and grit to build. “Get the hell out!”
“You have until tomorrow.” A smirk stretched the prince’s features. He wetted his lips with a leer at Nyssa as he strode out of the room as if he already owned it. “I’ll leave the girl untouched until then.”
“Sacrament!” Mag smashed his fist through the wall. The plaster caved in and his old portrait fell to the ground upon the rebound. “Fuck!”
His body shaking, he caught Nyssa’s blank expression. She sat completely still in the armchair. Her knuckles white, her lips thin.
His heart shattered at her pain. With a slow breath, he leaned back against his desk. “I’m sorry, Nyss.”
And he wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for his outburst or for seeing her trapped in this impossible dilemma.
“Oh what the hell.” Without thought, he slammed his hand on the inside of his wrist, right over his mother’s mark. “Koir idash!”
“What are you doing?” Nyssa’s voice came out small, but her face had now taken a determination that wasn’t there a second ago. She stood and rubbed her palms on her yoga pants. As she paced the office, her initial stillness had been replaced by a fretful stride.
“Koir idash, Sorcière des Glaces,” he intoned again. A pool of mist coalesced at their feet. “I’m calling my mother.”
“Oh.” Nyssa stopped marching and swiveled to face him.
“She’s been wanting to help me,” he rushed through his teeth. “This is it.”
“How can she beat this thing when he overtook me with just a touch?” Nyssa was all business, her brows tense with focus. “Is a witch strong enough against something like that? I think we should still go to the authorities, Mag. We can find the compound and attempt a rescue of Cat and the other kids.”
“Mom will find it,” he spat. “Hells, she can probably obliterate this two-bit prince with one word.”
He wasn’t certain that his mom had that kind of power but goddamn, she could find the fucker and Mag would deal with him.
“Cat’s probably in there, we can’t just blast the whole place.” Nyssa’s features were pinched tight. “She could get hurt.”
His mad tension eased as he looked at her. He crossed the distance between them to hold her by the shoulders. “We will get Cat back, I promise. I will give up my club if I have to.”
“You would?” Stunned, she went completely motionless. Her eyes took a dull sheen.
“Of course, sweetheart. No question there.” His tone firm, he shot her a look meant to reassure her. “Nothing is worth more than Cat’s life right now. Which is why I’m calling on my mother. I’m not letting anything to chance. You saw how twisted Norwell is, he’ll likely not give Cat back.”
She nodded and again his emotions for her soared. He hated having to call on his mom, but he would, for Nyssa. And the child.
“Koir idash.” He let go of her and intoned the words once more with a flick of his hand.
The small pool of twirling mist at his feet slowly solidified in a mass of dark indigo fog. As the form of his mother slowly rose from the floor, her black velvet dress took shape before her mass of dark curls appeared. Soon soulful brown eyes, so much like his own, were fixated upon him with quiet questioning.
He heard Nyssa’s gasp being quickly repressed as her eyes widened in surprise at the apparition. He stepped to her side and slid an arm around her waist.
“It will be fine. Mom will help,” he reassured her. Or at least he hoped his mother would. He never knew with Mom, but she did owe him for what she did to Nyssa.
“Magnovald, mon pitou.” Mom stepped towards him with her arms wide before stopping herself. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Oh, it’s her.”
“Mom, this is Nyssa Vlahos.” He kept his tone as steady as he could manage. “Nyssa, this is my mother, Charlotte Callan.”
Nyssa blinked a hint of annoyance before her cool persona returned.
“The one who put a spell on me,” she said, her voice measured.
Mag’s mother leveled with Nyssa. “You are trying to take over my son’s life’s work.”
“Not anymore.” Nyssa said carefully.
“Mom. Nyssa. Please, we need her magic,” he told them, realizing that both women were strong-willed. He hoped having them together was not going to be a mistake.
The businesswoman straightened but she didn’t add any more.
“You need my help. Finally. Please do tell, mon p’tit,” his mother fussed with excitement. “Your mom is always here for you.”
“You haven’t been, but never mind,” he grumbled. A conflicted set of emotions ran through him. He had to ask her. This wasn’t about him but about Cat.
The gullible girl’s image ran through him and his stomach churned at the thought of her naivety in the clutches of the pompous prince.
“What do you know about Prince Norwell of the Daeva Realm?”
“Norwell? Morgious’ little brother?”
“Morgious?” Mag frowned with confusion.
“The former king of the Daeva Realm,” his mother explained. She strolled to his wet bar and served herself a drink. “They don’t have a king anymore since the warlocks killed him. Their king now is Malcolm Dunsmuir. He rules over Hell’s Gate. Daemons and daevas and all the other nasties. Princess Merritt oversees the daevas. Malcolm let her keep her title.”
“And she’s Norwell’s sister.”
“Oui. Older sister. He’s the runt.”
“A narcistic runt clearly jealous of his sibling,” Mag sneered. “So, what do you know of him?”
“Little Norwell? Oh I’ve only encountered his dad when I was younger, visiting Malcolm’s mom—Flora is ancient, and of my tradition, you know. The prince is just a kid. Spoiled little brat. Why do you ask?”
“Because the prince is here, in Montreal. Definitely grown up. And he wants my club.”
“What?” His mom blinked with surprise.
“What would he be doing in our world, Maman?”
She shrugged and took seat at the edge of the couch, her expression filled with concern. “Oh, I don’t know. Merritt can be difficult, I heard. Maybe he finds life here a little easier. I truly have no idea, mon fils. That’s daemon business.”
“Right, you’re more at ease with hell’s business I suppose.” He sneered his frustration. “Haven’t you turned to voodoo magic now? Isn’t that why you left? To seek new powers?”
Despite the dire threat surrounding him, he just couldn’t let go of her abandonment. The hurt still lingered deep within him.
“What are you talking about?” she declared. “I’m still very much steeped in my Callan tradition. But I respect all my New Orleans’ sisters. Voodoo yes, and Acadian magic, like Maisie Thibodeau’s coven. They have nothing to do with hell.”
“Whatever.” He didn’t know why he had brought up the subject. He was still trying to accept her reasons for leaving her sons. “I need your help in kicking this prince out of Montreal.”
“I see.” She frowned and his heart fell.
What had he expected? Sure, Magnovald, let’s go slam that bastard’s ass.
“He has Nyssa’s sister,” Mag added, hoping to jolt her sympathy.
“Her sister.” Mom shot Nyssa a flippant look.
He heard Nyssa take a deep breath, but she remained motionless, standing straight beside him.
“She’s only thirteen,” Mag continued to plead. “Norwell wants to sell her to service a bunch of creepy twisted bastards. Sexually service them. Some are daevas, Mom. Others, devious humans who prey on children. A mere kid. Sold to depraved clients.”
“I see.” His mother nodded to herself. “This little sister, she’s human? Like her?”
“Nyssa, mom. Her name is Nyssa.” His anger was rising fast. But he had to contain it to save Cat. He didn’t want to take on the daeva compound alone. Even with Justin and Ren and maybe Emme and a few disciples with their ceremonial magic, he wasn’t sure they could overpower a nest of daevas.
No. Mom was the better solution. He had witnessed his brother’s wife—the High Priestess of the powerful White Holly Coven—obliterate a pack of wraiths and mothbeasts the year before. He was very much aware of what a witch could do. And Mom was the most powerful of all witches, apparently.
“Catalina is human,” he said. “Just like Nyssa.”
“No powers at all? Banshee?” his mom pressed. “Psychic perhaps, an empath even?”
“No.” His fingers curled with contempt. It was obvious that his mom would prefer to help someone with even a smidge of supernatural blood over a powerful human. But he was done playing nice. “I’m asking for your help, Mom. Don’t you owe me?”
She tilted her head to the side, with a quizzing look on her face. “Owe you?”
“For leaving me behind,” he fumed. “Just like that.”
“Like I told you at dinner the other night, Magnovald, you never made an attempt to contact me.” She crossed her arms, somewhat miffed. “And now, you actually need me, so you call upon me. Summon me even, like a creature at your beck and call.”
“It was faster,” he muttered, shoving down newfound guilt at his complicity for their estrangement. “Mom, I’m worried about the child.”
Nyssa bristled imperceptibly under his arm at the mention of Cat.
“Oh, son,” his mother replied, the corner of her eyes mollifying. “You’ve always been a softie when it comes to protecting children. I see so much of Antoine in you.”
Her voice was kind as she added with a slow shake of her head, “He was not your natural father, but he raised you to be just like him.”
“Mom, this is not the time to bring up Papa.” Nor was it time to rehash his grief over his father’s death. He missed the man, sure… “He’s been gone for three hundred years.”
“And yet,” she placed a hand over her heart, “he’s with me every day I walk this earth.”
“Maman,” Mag urged. “Will you help me or not?”
She let out a measured breath. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean, you can’t?” Distress seized the back of his neck.
His mother unfolded herself from the couch and suddenly it was as if she took the whole room, her presence so large that Nyssa unconsciously pressed herself against Mag.
He knew his mother was much more than the small dark-haired woman who had given birth to him. He rarely saw the other side of her but at the moment—taking in her limbs crackling with power under the shimmering black dress, the pentacle at her throat humming with unnatural energy, and the smoldering look she was casting upon him—he was facing the Ice Witch.
And the Ice Witch stared at Mag with the entire weight of her ageless power shadowing his office.
“I have been in this form for a long time,” she stated. “But you know my true soul is much older. From the original witches of the Celtic Island, of the Callan Clan. We are forbidden to interfere with human business unless they are magically bound to us. Had the kid been a witch, like Valerian’s wife, or even simply an empath, perhaps I could have helped. But to go against a prince of the Daeva Realm, of the Gates of Hells, for a human—that I cannot do. My deities would punish me dearly for trying.”
“Can you not find some ways?” His voice was strained as he pleaded with her. “Help me. Something that could circumvent your laws.”
She let out a restrained breath and her expression on him eased. “As soon as this prince shows up with his minions to storm your club, I will be right here. I’ll obliterate them and send him home. But not until he does.”
“They attacked me already, Mom.”
“And you killed them easily. Didn’t you, son?”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” She shook her head. “You don’t need me.”
“You don’t care about us, do you?” Nyssa suddenly spoke, her tone frigid.
“About you and your sister?” Mag’s mother sounded detached as she answered. “No. Not really.”
“Well, I personally don’t give a damn that you’re a witch older than dirt,” Nyssa countered through her teeth. “You’re just one cold bitch.”
“Magnovald, mon fils.” His mom turned a shocked look at him. “You’re going to let her talk to me like this?”
“Actually, Mom, she’s right.” He held tight onto Nyssa, half glad to see her tell his mom off and half worried of what the witch could do to her.
“Listen, ma p’tite.” Mom stepped toward Nyssa and Mag realized that his mother was a good foot shorter than the real estate tycoon. “You’re just a puny human. And you’ll die soon, like all of them.”
“So what if I die.” Nyssa’s eyes were sparkling with anger. “At least I will have died knowing I did the right thing by my sister, my family. If I get this correctly, you refused to see your son for centuries. You, a mother! And when he needs help, you turn him down. That’s the most selfish thing I know.”
“You know nothing, fille.” Mom was right in Nyssa’s face and he felt the air hiss with electricity. “You think it’s all good fun, you and Mag. In love with an immortal. What will happen when you get old. When your pretty face turns gnarly and he no longer looks at you like the fresh young thing you once were?”
“Mom. Stop.” Mag put his body right between them with wariness.
“No, Magnovald, listen to me. It will happen.” His mom wouldn’t let it go. She was pointing her finger up and down with vigor to emphasize each of her words. “Nyssa will be an old woman, and you, you will still be you. With pretty women wanting to bed you while you turn them down to go home to a dying crone.”
“I’ve seen it with Justin. How unfair it was to Marie-Louise. It was heartbreaking for him to see her wither away with age until her death.” She stepped back and eyed them both, one after the other. “Your relationship is doomed, and I am not about to help you get there faster by interfering.”
“This has nothing to do with you!” Fuming, Nyssa looked at his mother then at him. “It’s not about either of you. Fuck, it’s not even about me!”
Filled with anger, her eyes welled for the first time since his mother had materialized in the room. Nyssa’s ice queen poise was long gone.
“This is about my little sister,” she raged. “This is about a kid who has never known a mother’s love and whose life is now in the hands of the most horrible thing I have ever seen.” Her face was red, the pain dug deep into her features.
“Nyssa,” Mag coaxed, sliding his hands along her arm in an attempt to comfort her.
“And you both…” Ignoring him, she shook her fist in front of her with fury. “You’re bickering about things that has nothing to do with my sister. If you can’t help, fine!”
“Nyssa,” he said again softly, trying to calm her.
But she no longer heard him. She stood there, her eyes like slits, her nostrils flaring.
“The hell with you all!” She broke his embrace and raced to the door before he had a chance to catch her. “I’m going to save Cat myself.”