Harley Merlin and the Cult of Eris (Harley Merlin, #6)

A soft chuckle escaped Imogene’s lips. “It’s Shakespeare, Harley. Hamlet, to be precise. A mixture of my favorite scenes.”

“Ah, I never cared much for Shakespeare at school. Mostly went over my head.”

“Anyway, if I continue to wallow, I’ll drink this entire bar dry, and that would not be an entertaining sight,” she said, visibly gathering herself. “How are things with Director Levi and the SDC? We ask for weekly reports, but Levi rarely delivers them on time. And, with everything going on, I’m sure you can understand how little time we have to chase him down on these matters.”

I shrugged. “It’s as good as can be expected, given the circumstances. He watches me constantly, or he has someone else do it. He doesn’t trust that I’ve got my abilities and affinities in order. He barely lets me out of the coven unless he can reach me on my phone at all times.” I lifted my cell phone and waved it at her. “He’s got a GPS tracker installed in this thing, just to be sure.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I would’ve thought Alton could lessen Leonidas’s more dictatorial edges. Is that not the case?”

I shook my head. “He pushes Alton around like a servant and forces the entire coven to adhere to his rules. Anything above a certain danger threshold is a big no-no, including eating breakfast after six a.m. It’s like forcing soldiers to knit sweaters for puppies instead of protecting the unit or letting them serve on the front line.”

“He’s a ridiculous man, Harley. That may well be the G&T talking, but he really is.” She laughed. “I still can’t quite understand why Alton put himself in such a lowly position and left the SDC open to such exposure. I hope, in time, he’ll be able to temper some of Levi’s worst instincts.”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I replied. Nobody outside of the Rag Team knew the real reason Alton had stepped down, and that wasn’t about to change. I liked Imogene, but if she caught wind of what Alton had done, she wouldn’t hesitate to see him punished. That was her job, at the end of the day—to maintain order amongst the covens in her jurisdiction.

“You see, Harley, the thing about Levi is he really loathes being around magicals who are more powerful than he is. When he was with me on the Council, I used to catch him sending dirty looks my way when he thought I wasn’t looking. I regret not calling him out, but I don’t like to stir the pot too much, not when it’s not necessary to do so.”

I nodded. “It’s not the first time I’ve heard that. Even Raffe says the same thing. It’s got to be pretty bad, if it’s coming from his own flesh and blood. Still, it makes you wonder what made him like that.”

“That poor boy,” Imogene murmured. “I don’t know the precise details of Director Levi’s inferiority complex, but… someone told me it had something to do with a duel from his youth. He bit off more than he could chew, by the sounds of it, and almost got himself killed in the process. His wife was pregnant with Raffe at the time, and the residual terror of abandoning his wife to widowhood and leaving his child fatherless was too much for him to bear. Ever since, he has been exceedingly cautious around powerful magicals, for fear of it happening again.”

I let her words soak in. It was weird to think of Levi as an ordinary guy, with fears and neuroses like everyone else. “I’d probably be more sympathetic if he weren’t intent on making my life miserable.”

She smiled and took another sip of her drink. “Speaking of powerful magicals, how are you doing, now that the Suppressor is gone? I’ve heard of your progress in Levi’s rather flaky reports, but they’re usually tinged with negativity. Now that you’re here, I should like to hear of it in your own words. So, tell me, do you feel balanced yet?”

For some reason, her question reminded me of Clint Eastwood. Do you feel lucky? Well, do you, punk? I didn’t exactly have an answer yet.

I toyed with my lime and seltzer. “It’s been quite a journey so far. Pretty difficult, to be fair. I mean, there’s all this magical energy loose inside me, and I’m still coming to grips with it.” I shrugged, not wanting to get on a downer. “I’m handling it, though. It’s easier now that I don’t have to work at the Science Center, so I’ve got more time to focus on improving myself. And it’s been cool to discover everything I can do now. I’m still learning, and I know there’s a lot more for me to discover, but I’m working through it as best I can.”

“You have the means to do so, Harley. You’ve always been exceptional, and now you’re simply catching up on the years of education and guidance you’ve missed out on,” she said. “I would suggest measured breathing techniques and some meditation. Either that, or you could utilize the Euphoria technique of thinking of something or someone dear to you to help ground you in the here and now. You could, in fact, focus on the pendant that I gave to you if you ever feel as if things are getting out of hand. I gave it to you to help tie you to your past and to your present. It will surely ground you if you’re ever in trouble.”

I instinctively reached for it and rubbed my thumb across the silver plating and the rough gemstones. Even that simple action brought me comfort, reminding me how grateful I was for the gift. “It already helps me, in a lot of ways. If nothing else, it reminds me why I have to keep going.”

“Then it’s doing what I intended.” She smiled at me as she swept a droplet of condensation from her glass.

“Can I ask you something, Imogene? Purely hypothetical, of course.”

She arched a refined eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

“How would someone go about being in two places at once?”

“Goodness, if I knew how to do that, it would make my own life so much easier!” She chuckled. “It’s impossible, I’m afraid. It’s one of the few mysteries that Chaos magic has yet to uncover. Splitting a consciousness into two parts simply cannot be done. There are Morphs who can remain in one body while taking on the form of another—be it animal or human—but that’s not technically being in two places at once. The body left behind is inanimate and vulnerable, and so it doesn’t serve the true purpose of what you’re asking.”

I felt completely deflated. If it couldn’t be done, then that left me with the same challenge I’d started with. How could I divert Levi’s watchful eyes away from me? Should I just use the Orisha duplicate to cover for me and hope for the best, or would it be better to find a more believable excuse? Levi was already tracking my movements through this freaking GPS, so I’d have to leave that behind somehow. Jerk.

Imogene was examining me intently, an amused smile on her face. As she watched me, she toyed with the bracelet on her wrist—the one that kept her emotions guarded. That thing sucked. I wished I could have sensed how she was feeling right now, to gauge how suspicious she was about my question.

“Yes, meditation is a rather good method for controlling one’s abilities during trying times,” she said suddenly. “In fact, there’s a meditation seminar for magicals coming up in Anchorage. It’s where magicals with overly exuberant powers go to regain control and a sense of inner peace. A rehabilitation retreat of sorts. Of course, such magicals are exceedingly rare, so, in order to stay in business, I believe they also welcome troubled magicals: the kinds who are newly released from Avarice, and coven prisons, and at-risk magical youth, and so on and so forth. Those who have been magically injured, also.”

I gaped at her. “Anchorage, Alaska?” The irony was too freaking sweet.

“I would imagine so. I don’t know of any other Anchorage,” she replied. “If you thought it could be beneficial to you to have some time away somewhere you could rest and regain control, then you could always apply to spend a week or two there.”