can't ask for expert advice. Speaking of which, I've suggested that Ruben bring in Sherry and her bunch." Suggested might be a euphemism, but he thought blackmailed would overstate the case. Required ! Yes. that's the word he wanted. He'd required Ruben to ask Sherry and her coven to perform a particular task. "They'll need your snazzy new coat."
"Are you talking about Sherry O'Shaunessy?" Disbelief coated Cynna's voice. Sherry O'Shaunessy was high priestess of a very old, very powerful Wiccan coven who occasionally consulted for the Unit. "I can't believe you called them in. You don't play well with others, and you don't like sharing your toys. And what would they need my coat for?"
"It isn't my spell to share or not, is it? I'm not paying for it. But Sherry and company aren't going to be learning the shield spell, at least not right away. They'll be casting personal protection spells. Yours goes on your coat."
"I've got a protection spell."
"Speaking of egotistical…"
"All right, all right. Sherry's coven can undoubtedly put lots more zip into spells than I can on my own. But why? Isn't the whole point of a shield spell protection?"
"You're assuming it's really a shield spell."
"I'm not assuming anything, but odds are that it is. And you'll be able to tell once you see it, right?"
"It's a drawn spell," Cullen reminded her. "Will a spell from another realm use glyphs we're familiar with?"
"Some of them, but… okay, okay, you're right. We can't expect to recognize all of the graphic components, so you'll be relying on the gnome's explanations of the glyphs. Which may not be complete, and could be nonsense." She brooded on that a moment. "Still, the gnome and the others will be in the circle with us, and I'm guessing they don't want to go boom ."
"I doubt the spell causes physical harm. But think how handy it would be for a diplomat negotiating trade agreements to cast a good persuasion spell."
She did, apparently, think that over, keeping silent as they emerged from the softness of leaves and loam onto a paved path. There was plenty of room to walk side by side here; the trees lining the path had been knocked down and shoved into untidy piles.
"What in the world—?" Cynna stopped, looking at the woody debris.
"Mika likes this path."
"I guess he needs a little more room than we do."
"A little. Come on."
They started down the path. Cullen missed having her hand snugged in his jeans, but she must have been able to see well enough, now that they weren't under the trees.
For him, the world was drawn in crisp grays with pools of ebony shadows. What did it look like to her? His first Change was so many miles and years and heartaches ago… he couldn't call up a clear sensory memory of how the night looked back when he'd had merely human eyes.
"Okay," Cynna said at last, "here's how I see it. If the councilor tries something sneaky, you won't be affected because of your personal shields, but he doesn't know about them. But Lily wouldn't be affected either, and she'd probably be able to tell at a touch if any of us were. And the Edge people do know that. They know she's a touch sensitive."
"Which makes it unlikely they'll pull something, but not impossible."
"Oh, come on. I'm all for taking reasonable precautions, but—"
"Dammit, Cynna!" Suddenly angry, he spun. "Reasonable precautions? You're carrying my child. Have you forgotten that already?"
Her mouth opened—then closed again.
Temper sighed into exasperation. "You did. You really did forget."
"Look, as far as you're concerned, I've been pregnant for four and a half weeks. But for me, it's been…" She glanced at her wrist, then pushed a button on her watch. The dial lit up. "Nine hours and thirty-one minutes."
If she hadn't spent those past four and a half weeks denying reality… Cullen scrubbed his head with one hand and reached for the slippery reins on his temper. "I get it. You need time to adjust. While you're adjusting—"
You didn't ask if
"Are you talking about Sherry O'Shaunessy?" Disbelief coated Cynna's voice. Sherry O'Shaunessy was high priestess of a very old, very powerful Wiccan coven who occasionally consulted for the Unit. "I can't believe you called them in. You don't play well with others, and you don't like sharing your toys. And what would they need my coat for?"
"It isn't my spell to share or not, is it? I'm not paying for it. But Sherry and company aren't going to be learning the shield spell, at least not right away. They'll be casting personal protection spells. Yours goes on your coat."
"I've got a protection spell."
"Speaking of egotistical…"
"All right, all right. Sherry's coven can undoubtedly put lots more zip into spells than I can on my own. But why? Isn't the whole point of a shield spell protection?"
"You're assuming it's really a shield spell."
"I'm not assuming anything, but odds are that it is. And you'll be able to tell once you see it, right?"
"It's a drawn spell," Cullen reminded her. "Will a spell from another realm use glyphs we're familiar with?"
"Some of them, but… okay, okay, you're right. We can't expect to recognize all of the graphic components, so you'll be relying on the gnome's explanations of the glyphs. Which may not be complete, and could be nonsense." She brooded on that a moment. "Still, the gnome and the others will be in the circle with us, and I'm guessing they don't want to go boom ."
"I doubt the spell causes physical harm. But think how handy it would be for a diplomat negotiating trade agreements to cast a good persuasion spell."
She did, apparently, think that over, keeping silent as they emerged from the softness of leaves and loam onto a paved path. There was plenty of room to walk side by side here; the trees lining the path had been knocked down and shoved into untidy piles.
"What in the world—?" Cynna stopped, looking at the woody debris.
"Mika likes this path."
"I guess he needs a little more room than we do."
"A little. Come on."
They started down the path. Cullen missed having her hand snugged in his jeans, but she must have been able to see well enough, now that they weren't under the trees.
For him, the world was drawn in crisp grays with pools of ebony shadows. What did it look like to her? His first Change was so many miles and years and heartaches ago… he couldn't call up a clear sensory memory of how the night looked back when he'd had merely human eyes.
"Okay," Cynna said at last, "here's how I see it. If the councilor tries something sneaky, you won't be affected because of your personal shields, but he doesn't know about them. But Lily wouldn't be affected either, and she'd probably be able to tell at a touch if any of us were. And the Edge people do know that. They know she's a touch sensitive."
"Which makes it unlikely they'll pull something, but not impossible."
"Oh, come on. I'm all for taking reasonable precautions, but—"
"Dammit, Cynna!" Suddenly angry, he spun. "Reasonable precautions? You're carrying my child. Have you forgotten that already?"
Her mouth opened—then closed again.
Temper sighed into exasperation. "You did. You really did forget."
"Look, as far as you're concerned, I've been pregnant for four and a half weeks. But for me, it's been…" She glanced at her wrist, then pushed a button on her watch. The dial lit up. "Nine hours and thirty-one minutes."
If she hadn't spent those past four and a half weeks denying reality… Cullen scrubbed his head with one hand and reached for the slippery reins on his temper. "I get it. You need time to adjust. While you're adjusting—"
You didn't ask if
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