Master of Smoke

dinner.”
    THIRTEEN
    Blade rang on blade in the furious music of combat as the vampires and witches fought.
    Not very well.
    They swung their weapons clumsily, the vampires with more power than skill, the witches hesitantly. Here and there someone fought a bit better as natural athleticism overcame a lack of experience. But they weren’t an impressive bunch.
    Tristan and Belle stood on the sidelines of the combat grounds, watching the new recruits practice, neither particularly impressed. “I swear to Merlin, they get worse every year,” the knight grumbled.
    “Everyone has to learn, Tristan,” Belle told him. “You probably did, too. You’ve just forgotten because it’s been fifteen centuries. Give them a few more weeks, and Reece and Erin will have them whipped into shape.”
    The tall Champion of the United States and his Maja wife passed among the ranks of their pupils, stopping here to correct a grip, there to demonstrate the proper technique of a parry. Belle saw Reece pause beside Davon Fredericks and take the surgeon by the wrist, correcting the way he held his sword.
    “Poor Davon,” Belle murmured. “He’s used to being the best at everything he does. This must be hard for him.”
    Tristan curled his lip. “After his ... association with you, he should be used to having things hard.”
    She shot him a poisonous smile. “Why, Tris—that almost sounded like a compliment.”
    “It wasn’t.”
    “Better luck next time.” Before he could fire off the retort he was no doubt brewing, she nodded across the field. “There’s Logan.”
    Not surprisingly, the ex-cop seemed to be instructing his opponent rather than fighting him. When Arthur Pendragon is your father, you know how to use a sword before they take the training wheels off your bike. Logan could probably have taught the class almost as well as Reece, though the other vampire was a good two centuries older.
    Tristan waved to attract his attention, but with everything going on, Logan didn’t appear to notice. “Hey, kid!”
    “Even a vampire couldn’t hear you in all this.” Belle stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew a piercing note that made everyone look toward them in surprise. She gestured Logan over. “And Tris—if you say one word about me and blow jobs, I swear I’m turning you into a frog.”
    He gave her a smirk. “Sensitive, darling?”
    She returned the smirk with interest. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
    Watching Logan jog toward them, Belle thought again how incredibly glad she was that Arthur’s son had fallen for Giada Shepherd.
    When he was just twelve years old, Logan had had a violent crush on Belle. He’d even said he wanted her to give him the Gift when he grew up. She’d rather have been waterboarded than tell him how that prospect horrified her. It was one thing to seduce young studs she didn’t know, but she’d changed Logan’s diapers. He might have grown into a handsome, brilliant man, but she had no desire whatsoever to sleep with him.
    Unlike, say, Tristan.
    Shut up, she told that treacherously honest inner voice.
    “What’s up?” Logan asked after he and Tristan exchanged backslapping greetings.
    “I think I’ve found Smoke,” Belle told him. “Or at least, I’ve found the general area he’s in. Anyway, I’m pretty sure he’s still alive.”
    Logan’s dark eyes, so like his father’s, lit with joy. “Thank God! Where is he?”
    Belle described the burst of magic she’d sensed. “I think he’s still somewhere in Greendale County.” Which was where he’d disappeared the week before. “Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to sense him since that burst. It’s as if something’s blocking me.”
    Logan nodded. “Yeah, Mom and Giada said the same thing. Even Morgana had no luck.”
    Belle frowned. That didn’t sound good; Morgana was one of the Magekind’s most powerful witches. But still ... “I thought if you had some object of his, I could use it to create a tracking spell.”
    Logan frowned as he considered the question. “Well, there’s the little pewter cat he gave me when I was a kid. It’s got a communication spell on it so I could call him, but when I tried it last week, it didn’t work. If you think you can use it, it’s yours.”
    “Worth a try, especially if it already has a spell of his on it. If he pops up again, maybe I could establish a connection with it.” Belle frowned. “Sounds like I’ll need to build a pretty powerful spell,