by Amir Lane
Rowan didn’t waste the shot. He dropped his shoulders, kept his eyes on the spot he wanted to hit, took a slow breath, and pulled the trigger. The bullet sank squarely into the man’s chest, just shy of his heart and two inches left from where he was aiming. Rowan had spent countless hours at the shooting range getting pointers from Kieron. Gilbert had already taught him how to shoot, but Kieron was admittedly much better at it. The guy was a world-class marksman. And yet, Rowan still fucking missed.
The pain in Rowan’s chest wasn’t just from the back-alley surgery. For a long time, Gilbert Udalets had been his only family. He’d been the only person Rowan had trusted. As he’d gotten older, more acclimated to normal life, he’d made friends. He had Val, his old Sex Crimes partners, his curling team, some people he volunteered at shelters with. Shit, he’d even gone to all of Fairuz’ stupid ‘team bonding’ dinners that actually turned out to be pretty fun. For a while, there had also been a D&D table, but he’d gotten too busy for that, and honestly, the group was a little loud for his taste. Gilbert had always lost his mind with excitement whenever Rowan had plans outside of work. Though he’d never said it out loud, Rowan was sure Gilbert doubted he would be able to function so well in society. Rowan had doubted it, too. Sometimes, he still did.
He never expected to actually do anything with his life. He’d especially never expected to find more family. But he did. Kseniya. Val. Kieron. Indira. Fairuz. His cats.
The Black Birches took that from him. They’d sent Rutherford Bromley to collect his dept and dragged him back into all of this hell.
The second bullet went right through the bastard’s skull.
“Come on!”
Kseniya grabbed his arm. The second man lunged at them. His face elongated into a muzzle, and thick, black fur sprouted from his body.
Great. Fucking werewolf.
And a natural-born one, too. No full moon necessary.
He raised his gun, but Kseniya beat him to it. The half-wolf shrieked and hit the floor, shifting back to human form. Rowan turned to stare at Kseniya.
“Silver bullets,” she explained.
And Rowan was just carrying regular bullets like an idiot.
The werewolf writhed in pain on the ground. Kseniya aimed her gun at his face.
“Wait!” the werewolf rasped. “Wait! You’re the Biarozy heir!”
Rowan raised his own gun. He couldn’t let this guy who around letting everyone know where he was. The werewolf writhed in pain, one hand on the wound in his stomach. He was young, probably no more than his early twenties. He might not have even had anything to do with the Black Birches. The visit to one of their members could have been entirely unrelated.
Being soft would only get Rowan killed. He couldn’t afford it.
“Fairuz Rashid Arshad!”
Rowan lowered his gun and grabbed Kseniya's hand to stop her from shooting him. The werewolf gasped for air.
“How do you know that name?” Rowan demanded.
He struggled to keep his voice even. That wasn’t a name he’d expected to hear all the way out in Italy.
“They— They told us if we see you, to tell you…”
“Tell me what?”
Rowan stepped forward, keeping his gun ready in case the werewolf tried attacking him, and nudged his toe against the bleeding hole. The scream almost made him feel bad. He gave the kid a second to catch his breath. His eyes flickered to the door. Nobody else was coming yet, but that wouldn’t last long, even in a sketchy shithole like this.
“They sent a púca after her and your friends. They’re not done, either. It’s you or them.”
Rowan’s heart raced painfully against the knotted scars. Púcas were nasty fucks. Not as nasty as shades, he figured, but trickier. They were much harder to spot. If his family had sent one after her, she might not notice until it was too late. Kieron might, he was from the same region. He would know how to handle one, if he found it in time.
If.
“What do you mean, they’re not done?” he demanded. “What happened with the púca?”
Sweat, blood, and piss drenched the cheap carpet beneath the werewolf.
“Dead, I think.”
Dead? That meant that she was still alive, right? That all of them were still alive. It had to, if the Birches weren’t done with them. He let out a relieved breath.
“What are they sending next?”
The werewolf shook his head, his yellow eyes squeezed shut. “I-I don’t know. Please, I need a h-hospital.”
That was too bad. It would have been nice to have a head’s up. But this kid was just a messenger. Rowan wished he’d seen how young he was before Kseniya had shot him. Would it have made any difference? The truth was, it probably wouldn't. He tried to console himself with the fact that the kid would bleed out before they even figured out where the nearest hospital even was. He lifted his gun again and shot. The body went limp.
Letting out a shaky breath, he turned to Kseniya. She reached up to wipe the blood from his face. Without meaning to, he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.
“So what now?” she asked.
“Now? Now, we’re going home.”
If you enjoyed reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it, reviews are always appreciated.
Fairuz’s story continues in Gift of Darkness coming January 2020.
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Also by Amir Lane
Barrier Witch
Gift of Curses (#0)
Gift of Shadows (#1)
Gift of Ashes (#1.5)
Gift of Secrets (#2)
Gift of Darkness (#3)
Morrighan House Witches
Rise (#0)
Shadow Maker (#1)
Bad Omen (#2)
Panther Queen (#3)
About the Author
Amir Lane writes supernatural and fantasy books with LGBT+ characters. From the frigid and mysterious land of Northern Canada, Amir is obsessed with loud music and black magic. They spend most of their writing time in a small home office or doing the circuit of local coffee shops. They live in a world where magic is an every day occurrence, and they strive to bring that world to paper.
When not figuring out what kind of day job an incubus would have or what a necromancer would go to school for, Amir enjoys visiting the nearest Dairy Queen, getting killed in video games, and watching cat videos.
Amir loves to connect with readers online. They can be found on their Facebook page, and at their website where you can find out more about their work.
For more information about Amir, check out:
www.amirlane.com
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