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Charming People (Driftwood Mystery Book 3)

Page 19

by A. L. Tyler


  Because since that day, I’d only ever been the scared kid on the porch. The daughter of a convicted felon. The child who refused to let go of a child’s unwavering belief that her father was innocent, and I could free him, and he would come back and save me from every evil the world threw at me.

  He never came back.

  I poured every ounce of energy I had into trying to free my father just because he’d been taken from me. Now I was going to die, by wolves or bullets, without ever seeing him again. Without ever knowing the truth. With no one waiting for me at home except for my cat.

  No. I opened my eyes. I had Nick. I had Marge.

  Promise me you’ll get in the pool.

  I was getting in the pool. Nick said it had great views of the sunset.

  West. Away from the dawn. The line of gray was on my left. Wolves were still running on the lawn beneath me.

  I waited until Cal’s footsteps moved away. It was time to test for shrapnel.

  I ground my teeth into the collar of my jacket, the leather bitter on my tongue as I tried not to scream. The flames lit to life once more.

  Good, good. I pitched the fire at the tree line, sending out lures to draw the wolves away, but I couldn’t stop to see if they worked or not.

  I dropped to the grass, the hip I’d injured falling from the library observation tower with Nick screaming in protest on landing. I rolled to keep the balcony between Cal’s line of fire and me.

  BAM! BAM!

  I took a deep breath, waiting the hear him move. When Cal’s weight drop onto the balcony, I sprinted as fast as my injuries allowed. To the edge of the house, and around the corner—

  BAM!

  —and straight into an angry, snarling wolf.

  Chapter 26

  The wolf growled as I fell flat on my ass in shock. Up close, I could see why they seemed so menacing. The animal’s jaws were half human and half wolf, and it prevented them from closing correctly. The lips didn’t quite cover the teeth.

  I tried to let that be a comfort—that it might not actually be snarling—as it rumbled above me, staring me down.

  Beady eyes, seeming a touch more human than the others, glared down at my injured hand. I laid still as the sniffing nose approached, hoping to the gods that the smell of blood didn’t draw them.

  Cal turned the corner, hissing a curse and turning to retreat when the wolf tensed at the sight of the raised gun in his hand. It turned up clods of mud and grass the size of basketballs on either side of me when it launched itself at the weapon.

  Feeling dizzy, I got up and stumbled away.

  If I could get in the pool, the wolves wouldn’t come in after me. They would stay close, though, and that gave me all the protection I needed from Cal. I could stir them up with magic, and even a natural wolf wouldn’t risk those kinds of injuries.

  Assuming I didn’t bleed to death before help came.

  This is a terrible plan.

  I’d figure something out when I got there. I was good under pressure.

  I went on through the mud and grass, passing another wolf that studied me with green eyes over what appeared to be a human leg. I kept moving to indicate my disinterest, and the wolf dragged its treasure into the shadowy darkness beyond the tree line.

  When the dawn was lost behind the house, I peered through windows as I went, staying close to the brittle evergreen shrubs as I went. There was blood in my mouth, and I felt like I was going to pass out.

  When I finally peered through the window at an enormous circular pool, tiled with a massive mosaic of the moon and stars, I wasn’t sure if I had the energy anymore.

  The Topaz disagreed.

  When I put my hand on the glass and focused all my energy on breaking it, every pane on the wall came down in a shower of cutting, bleeding pain. The magic shielded me on impulse after the first shard hit my scalp, and even a nearby wolf leaped away in shock and self-preservation.

  I heaved onward, knowing the wolves would come. The noise was horrendous, my head was pounding, and I couldn’t tell which sounds were in my head anymore. I fell into the water, the heat a shock against my falling temperature as it flooded beneath my jacket and into my hair.

  I’m in the pool, Marge. I hoped I’d get to tell her. The wolves came, skittering around the edges and staring at me in confusion.

  Selersana, selersana. Maybe I had the spell wrong. Maybe a gunshot wound was just too much for that particular magic. I wished I had anything to tourniquet my arm, because the amount of blood I was losing was much more evident in the clear water. I switched to a spell to numb the pain instead, quieting the distractions in my hip, ribs, hand...

  It was a bad idea. Without the nagging pain, I had one less thing to keep my tired eyes open,

  The wolves could hear my magic, and they loped around the edge of the water in agitation, knuckles dragging on the ground and knocking around pool chairs as they went. I sank into the warmth of the water when I started getting cold, my teeth chattering and every part of me shaking.

  It really was a magnificent pool. The mosaic was beautiful. The walls were rough-hewn cedar with pillars reminiscent of an ancient temple. The whole room was circular, with a high ceiling like the library. Watching the sunset here, alone, was exactly the kind of thing Marge should have worried about.

  My eyes followed the empty window panes as they reached all the way up, curving across to meet—

  Shit. Skylights.

  The roof. Cal had found his way onto the roof before, and I had turned his game into an exercise in shooting fish in a barrel. I closed my eyes and shook my head; that was his next play. I couldn’t get out of the pool any more than he could get in, and sleep was calling to me like an old friend.

  This was it, then.

  I used my good hand to push the water through my hair and over my face. If I was going to die, I wanted to die clean.

  You did a good thing. I hoped so. If Cal had pried open those wards while I was inside, I probably could have taken him out, but everyone else would have been ripped apart by wolves in the immediate aftermath. This way was better.

  I hoped Skyla stayed away from Sergio and his influence. I hoped she tolerated whatever interrogations and training the Bleak threw at her. I hoped she and Amos would be able to restore this place to its former glory, and run it together, the way that Axel and Cal should have.

  Death drove people apart. It also brought them together. If I had to die to heal that old wound, and give two people some peace for the parents they had lost, it wasn’t all bad. There were worse ways to die.

  Nick would be okay. He’d survived tragedy before.

  My tired eyes scanned the perimeter. I looked to the roof. I looked back down. It felt like hours were passing, but dawn didn’t come. I bobbed in the water, the chlorine providing a special kind of hell as it stung in every open wound it found. I overused my numbing spell, seeking peace in what I was sure would be my final moments. The pain of my injuries started to fade as my eyes drifted shut, the warmed pool at least providing some comfort as blood loss threatened to take me.

  BAM!

  I shot back to my feet, coughing up water and pushing myself back to the center of the pool. The wolves were stirring and starting to fight amongst themselves, unable to reach the toy in the water. The heat of the water mixed with the chill outside, and they loped around in a low-lying, misty fog. Had I fallen asleep?

  “You’re alive.”

  I looked up. Sure enough, Cal—or Fake Cal, as I should probably have called him—crouched on the edge of the large skylight above me. I clenched my fist, wishing for the fire, and nothing happened.

  “You’re making me work for my money, Ms. Driftwood.” He aimed his gun again. My fingers searched, but it was the streamer of crimson coming from my hip, where I had numbed the pain too much, that gave it away. I was hit. “I don’t like working for my money.”

  I dug at the bullet, but it lodged on the side that I was down a hand.

  BAM! I dove a
t just the right moment, and Cal’s next bullet missed me by inches.

  “Bitch.” He was reaching for something in his pocket. He needed to reload.

  “Who was it?” I called desperately. I had to know. I needed to know the name of the person who had done this, even if I died with the information. “Who hired you to come after me?”

  Cal shoved a fresh clip in. His stance was all too casual as he aimed once again, but then paused. He didn’t smile. “You had it right the first time. Marcus Clark sends his regards.”

  BAM!

  I jumped. Cal’s body fell dead weight from the roof, seeming to fall in slow motion before smacking hard onto the cement floor below. The wolves went wild.

  I stared back up, a new outline standing where Cal had been.

  “You’re a terrible employee!” he yelled down at me.

  I shivered in the water, shaking so hard that I thought I might drown even before the blood loss took me. Nick fished through the pockets of his jacket before dropping several potions. They plopped into the pool and sank to the bottom around me, their melodies oddly distorted by the water.

  My teeth chattered. “They won’t work. I’m hit.”

  The bullet in my leg would nullify any magic in my blood, and that meant cures, too. I was sure I hadn’t spoken it loud enough—I could hardly hear myself over the sound of Cal’s demise—but Nick nodded all the same.

  He walked around the edges of the broken skylight panel before picking his spot and dropping into the deep end of the water. The wolves hardly glanced at him as they growled and fought over the dead man’s limbs.

  Nick swam to me, grimacing at my ruined hand as I held it up.

  “I couldn’t get the bullet out,” I said. I felt my face flush. “I’m sorry...”

  The world started to go dark.

  “Jette!” Nick slapped at my cheeks, but I didn’t care.

  I wanted to sleep.

  Chapter 27

  I was still in the water when I woke up, Nick dutifully keeping me adrift as his eyes scanned the wolves, his brow wrinkled in deep thought.

  I had a massive rip in my jeans where the bullet had gone in, but the wound was gone. Nick must have dug it out before forcing the potions down my throat and using his field healing spells.

  My hand was numb, and still a mess, but I could forgive Nick for that. That much damage was going to take a specialist, gods willing the Bleak brought one with them.

  I let my eyes wander to the sky, where the clouds were starting to lighten.

  Dawn. And still, it rained.

  “Where’s Rogers?” I demanded weakly.

  “I left Skyla and Amos in the pantry,” Nick said. “Rogers is hog-tied in the Vault. You don’t have the experience to be pulling bullshit like this. Speaking as your superior, don’t let it happen again.”

  “Speaking as your girlfriend—” The word still felt odd to me. Too personal, almost, after a life of keeping everyone at arms’ length. “Fuck off. I probably saved your life.”

  “You saved my life?” Nick dropped his grip on me.

  I went under, sputtering in the water before I regained the surface on my own. Nick’s face was a mix of irritation and amusement as I tried to stalk back to him, awkwardly swim-walking the whole way.

  “This was the only plan that was going to work,” I said in a low voice. “You were refusing to get on board with it because you were making it personal.”

  I didn’t want to apologize. I was right, and he was wrong. I’d done what needed to be done: the job.

  Nick crossed his arms.

  My lip curled in defeat. “I’m sorry. Thank you for coming after me.”

  He shrugged, the hint of a smile barely visible on his lips.

  The rain continued until that afternoon. The wolves kept to the shadows in the house when the clouds finally broke that evening, and we broke in through the kitchen windows to collect Amos and Skyla before retreating to the safety of the warded boathouse.

  As suspected, we found Axel’s head on Cal’s boat. Cal’s body—the real Cal Hayden—had been unceremoniously stuffed into a storage bin in the boat’s cabin. That had been the plan, then: run out like he was cursed, take the boat back to the mainland, and then sink it with the remains.

  If Cal’s body had ever been recovered, it would have been assumed he had somehow made it to the boat before perishing at sea. The assassin would have gotten away undetected.

  We huddled together in the boathouse, wrapped in blankets and staying close even though we had magic to heat and light the space. Amos and Skyla sat together. I exchanged a few looks with Nick, wanting for similar comforts, but neither of us wanted to be caught off guard again. We took turns watching the windows.

  “They’re going to think I was part of this,” Skyla said miserably. “They’ll put me away forever.”

  “It’ll be fine.” With one arm around her, Amos gave her a weak hug. He looked at me. “It’ll be fine, right?”

  I didn’t know how to answer that question. The Bleak weren’t known for their understanding.

  “They’ll interrogate her,” Nick said from the window. He turned, eyes sad, and paced back toward us. The water lapped at the side of the boats. “We all will. It will be hard, and especially for her. If you tell the truth, and the truth is that you had nothing to do with what happened here today, they’ll overlook Sergio. They will see in you what Axel saw, which is an excellent successor after his passing. Ms. Wolffkyn, you will live under their direction and close supervision for the rest of your life, but I doubt you will disappear. You have too much natural talent.” His eyes slid to Amos. “Your lives will change. Someday, though, you’ll adjust to the new normal.”

  Amos looked sick. He rested his other arm around Skyla to hug her again.

  Skyla swallowed as she stared Nick down. She took it with all the cold, impersonal analysis that Axel must have admired. “Is it still a life worth living, Mr. Warren?”

  Nick crossed his arms, pausing. He might have been considering the question, or else coming up with the right lie to help her carry on.

  “It has its moments.”

  When day passed to night, the wolves stayed away from the boathouse. I imagined that most of them had discovered the way into the house by then.

  I was staring out the boathouse window that night, too shell-shocked to sleep or think, when the lights appeared on the water. The Bleak-assembled rescue team had arrived.

  The ordeal was finally upon us.

  AN ATTACK ON A CRITICAL location isn’t something the Bleak takes lightly. They separated us. They isolated us on the boats. As agents employed by the Bleak, Nick and I were spared interrogation within our minds, but that was hardly a blessing.

  We faced a harsher reckoning in the real world.

  I sat in a chair across from Arnold Whent, the asshole who had done my interrogation when I’d been accepted back into the Bleak’s fold. Back then, he’d had an anemic and fearful partner to keep his vampiric side in check. Now, he was disturbingly solo.

  Our chairs were positioned so near to together in the tight confines of the boat that our knees nearly touched. Whent stared me directly in the eye.

  He cracked a slow, satisfied smile. “Agent Driftwood. We have to stop meeting like this.”

  “Mr. Whent,” I said curtly. “I see your keeper is absent today. I hope Judith is well.”

  His eyes sparkled, an amber color that reminded me of the day-old chai tea that Marge often forgot one day and tossed into the garbage bin the next. “Judith was reassigned after she found her duties in this position too taxing. I’m in the market, as they say, for a new resource.”

  I snorted, crossing my arms. “Good luck with that.”

  He turned his head, eyes wandering over me. I was in borrowed clothes after my ordeal, and it was hard to cut an intimidating stance wearing sweats designed for a man at least twice my girth.

  Whent’s gray suit and tie, however, were exactly right for the job. “Your par
tner tells me you were here for personal reasons. It must not have gone well. He’s requested that you be reallocated. I guess we’re both in the market, Agent Driftwood.”

  My hand twitched before I could brace myself. He was lying, wasn’t he? Whent’s lips twitched at a smug smile.

  “We’re not here to discuss my personal life. Let’s get this over with.”

  He raised one leg to rest one ankle on the opposite knee, his pants leg brushing against me in the process. Reclining further into his chair, he regarded me with interest. His eyes dilated. I felt the hypnosis take hold.

  “I have free reign to ask you whatever I deem relevant to this investigation,” Whent said, sounding pleased. “But if you insist. Did you kill Axel Hayden?”

  It made my skin crawl to think about any part of him having a hold on me. The word formed on my lips before I had time even to process his question. “No.”

  “Did you kill Molly Wolffkyn?”

  “No.”

  “Did you kill Shaina Letton?”

  “No.”

  “Did you have any prior knowledge of their impending deaths, or do anything that might have caused them to come to harm?”

  “No.” I closed my eyes, my throat gone tight. “I...didn’t drink. I didn’t drink the drink that the man posing as Cal Hayden poured for me. If I’d drunk it, Molly might still be alive.”

  That was it. If not for the mental strain of the hypnosis, I might have relaxed a little.

  Whent glanced away, bringing a hand to his mouth. His eyes flashed back to me. He sat up, then leaned in. I would have pushed my chair back, but I was still locked into his whim.

  “Ms. Driftwood, how long have you entertained a personal relationship with Agent Warren?”

  “About a month.” Not relevant.

  “And you’ve not known him much longer. Your presence here, with him, seems irresponsibly fast.”

  No question. I still had to fight to respond. “That line of thought doesn’t seem related to the case. Are we done here?”

 

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