Page 29 of Stalk the Dark
I followed her through the exit on the far side of the room. “Where’s Merry?”
“In the attic painting. It’s the only thing that soothes her once we remind her what happened to the others. Maybe this time she’ll retain the information.” She didn’t sound too confident, though.
“What did happen? This fire. How did it start?”
“If you want details, you can read the report at the fire department. Our statements are in there. I don’t plan on reliving it for you.”
Ouch. “Fine.” My senses warned that she was hiding something. I’d push her once I knew more. Once I found holes in her story. “One of Ezekiel’sminions delivered a hat box with a head in it last night.”
“I heard.”
“You don’t have wards here?”
“Nope.”
Getting answers out of her was like drawing blood from a stone. “Why not?”
“Certain mageri magic doesn’t work here.” She stopped at a narrow door and turned to face me. “And before you ask, I’m not sure about what kinds of spells. I’m not mageri.”
Damn, she was frosty. “What is your problem with me?”
She snorted, incredulous. “Tell me, what did your precious Order liaison say when you called them about our situation earlier?”
“You’re pissed because I called in?”
“No. I’d expect nothing less from a newbie to this territory. What I’m pissed about is your holier than thou attitude. Like you’re better than us. Like you could have done this job better and saved—” She dropped her chin, breathing heavily through her nose.
I gave her a moment to get her emotions in check. “When’s the last time you sat beneath a wing?”
She made a sound of exasperation. “I can’t even remember.”
“We can’t do our jobs if we’re not centered.”
She lifted her gaze to meet mine, and my breath caught at the depth of emotion simmering in her darkeyes. A twisted cacophony, impossible for me to untangle. “Being centered here doesn’t do a damn bit of good.”
“Still, as your chapter leader, I’m ordering you to visit the chapel…We do have a chapel here, right?”
She swallowed hard. “Yeah, we do. The building at the back of the house.”
“Then get it done. Today.”
She looked as if she wanted to argue, but even if she hated me, she couldn’t help but recognize my authority. It was how we functioned. How we got the job done. Hierarchy. Order. Discipline.
It was obvious that all of that had been lost here because of the tragedy, but I would get it back. “I can’t bring your fallen operatives back, but I can fight to give us back our autonomy from the Sangualex.”
Was that a flicker of hope in her eyes? It died too quickly for me to be sure. “I’m sureyoubelieve that but forgive me ifIdon’t.” She pushed open the door. “Archives are in here. The redwood glass case has the oldest stuff. The newer entries are in the oak bookcase with the other books. It’s all labeled, but I can stay and help if you need.”
Her tone said she’d rather do anything but that. I gave her a tight smile. “I can manage.”
She left me to enter the room alone. We had archive rooms at my chapter house too, but they were clinical affairs. Most of the information had been uploaded to computer files for easy access. Oldjournals scanned for ease of location. Everything cataloged and in place.
This room was more a library, and the lighting was electrical sconces, turned down low. Smart not to have oil lamps in here.
Floor-to-ceiling books had my fingers itching to explore the titles. Another time. I gathered the newer journals and carried them to the small table in the middle of the room.
Each journal began at the start of a rising year, but the handwriting changed throughout as the watchers were replaced.
Time to read.
