by Kim Schubert
“Which was?”
“Main and Becker.”
“Why don’t we find it and go now?”
I sighed. “The Oracle is not a transparent help. It’s best to adhere to the time and place she shows.”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “I don’t like it.”
Releasing a breath, I leaned my head against the headrest, looking up at the visor in front of me. “I agree, but we have to get Jerry back, nothing else matters.” Mark’s desolate eyes haunted me.
“If I can only do one thing right, it will be this,” I added with my jaw set hard.
“Why does it only have to be one thing? You’ve lived this long.”
I gave a short, humorless laugh. “Twenty-four years, such an accomplishment.”
Logan cut a shocked glance my way. “You are twenty-four?”
“Yeah, how old did you think I was?”
“Not twenty-four. Older, much older.”
I smiled, toying with a violet strand of hair. “I’ll be lucky to see thirty.”
Logan shifted in the seat. “Don’t be foolish.”
“I’m not. I’m realistic and a planner.”
Logan pulled into the manor after security cleared us. I was done with this conversation and I was done feeling sorry for myself. Silence descended as we stomped up the stairs to Tommy’s room; rather, I stomped up the stairs. Heads peeked out of rooms and quickly ducked back in. At Tommy’s door, I knocked on a poster of some strange anime character.
“Yo Olie!” Tommy yelled though the door. “You may enter.”
Pushing open the door I asked, “How did you know it was me?”
“Security cameras. I monitor the feed with Becky.” He remained fixated on the screens in front of him, his back to us.
I smiled and nodded as I ruffled his dark locks, leaning to look over his shoulder.
“I need you to find an intersection, Main and Becker.”
Logan leaned against the desk that hardly contained Tommy’s three monitors, each one quickly flashing information that I couldn’t track.
“Do you have any more details? Like the state?” Tommy asked, looking up at me in disbelief.
“No,” I grunted, hovering over his shoulder. “I’ll know it when I see it, though.”
“Want to explain how that works?”
Leaning my arm on the back of his chair, I propped my chin on my hand. “So, I went to see The Oracle—“
“Wait, THE Oracle?” Tommy asked me, turning to face me and throwing me off my resting spot.
“Yeah, unless there is another one I don’t know of.”
“Wow.” Tommy spun back in his chair and I took that as an invitation to continue.
“And she told me I could find Jerry on Main and Becker in about a day and a half.”
“Humph.”
“Then The Oracle tried to kill her,” Logan felt the need to add.
“WHAT?” Tommy squeaked, turning again to face me.
I shrugged a shoulder, staring daggers at Logan before turning to assure Tommy, “She tried, but she failed.”
“Did you kill her?” he asked in awe.
“No, the bitch is badder than me.”
Logan stifled a laugh, asking, “How hard was it for you to admit that?”
“Not at all,” I lied, adjusting my shirt forcefully to hide my irritation.
I apparently did a poor job, as both Logan and Tommy were smirking. Asshole and asshole-in-training.
“What do you got for me?”
“You need pictures, I’m assuming.”
“That would be ideal,” I confirmed.
Tommy grunted, fingers again flying over the keyboard.
“Did you see Harrison?” Tommy asked.
“I did, he’s adorable.”
“He’s a boy,” Logan and Tommy informed me in unison.
I shrugged. “Still adorable.”
“Alright, Olie, let’s put The Oracle’s information to the test. Assuming the intersection is within your boundaries, we can eliminate at least half, leaving eight intersections that match. Can you tell me anything else?”
I thought back to the memory. “The street signs are blue with white lettering.”
“Okay, that takes care of another three.” Tommy pulled up pictures of the remaining five intersections.
“That one.” I pointed to a bustling downtown photo. Humans were everywhere in the revived industrial buildings, sipping on coffee, shopping, talking and laughing. Not good. Why couldn’t they stay with their long tradition of abandoned industrial buildings?
Tommy let a low whistle out. “That’s Nashville. They are having some huge music convention there in a day or so.”
“Why would the witches open a portal to the Fae with a huge human audience?” Logan questioned.
“Sacrifices; blood magic to boost their power,” I answered, running my index finger over my bottom lip, thinking. “What shops are on those corners?”
Tommy pulled up another view of the corner. “Only two shops, the street dead ends into a hotel. On the south side of the road is a coffee joint, and on the north is an art gallery.”
“Can you get pictures of the coffee shop?” I asked, leaning over his shoulder.
“Olie, I’m insulted,” Tommy teased.
I rested a hand on his shoulder, smiling as images assaulted my eyes. Ignoring the smiling faces in the pictures, I focused on the background, the corrugated sheet metal used as paneling for the bottom of the walls, the red tables, the reclaimed wood counter top, and the concrete-floored storage room.
“There,” I pointed, leaving a finger smudge on his pristine computer screen. “That’s where he will be.”
“Can you get me the name of the hotel?” Logan asked.
“For real, you people don’t listen!” Tommy huffed, annoyed.
Logan smirked. “Sorry Tommy, you have us both impressed.”
He huffed an answer.
“The Majestic Hotel. You thinking of setting up camp there?” Tommy asked, spinning around as both Logan and I took a step back, he to make a call, and I to watch him, wondering the same thing.
“Can’t hurt to be close,” Logan agreed, before speaking to the person on the phone.
“You leavin’ again?” Tommy asked, the sullen teenager peeking out from behind the computer genius.
“I have to get Jerry.”
He nodded, not looking at me. Squatting in front of him, I took his hands in mine, letting the love I felt for him seep into his dark skin. “I’ll be back, and I promise to spend an entire day and night here until you can’t stand the sight of me.”
“Really?” he hesitantly asked, raising a dark brow at me.
“For realz,” I teased.
He shook his head, already recovered from the temporary emotional vulnerability.
“Ready?” Logan asked.
I stood, resting a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “Be good, kid. I’ll be back.”
I chose to ignore the pointed look Logan gave me. It read all kinds of see-I-told-you-so, aren’t-you-glad-I-caught-you-at-The-Oracle. Passing by him, I teased, “Whenever you are, Kitty,” trouble in my eyes.
“You are not allowed to call me that in public,” he sternly reprimanded me.
“That ruins all my fun,” I pouted, descending the stairs next to him.
“OLIE!” Grams called behind me.
I turned. “Hey,” I greeted her, as she made her way down to Logan and me.
“Next week I’m taking a weekend off to get away with Mercer. Can you watch the manor and Mindy?”
“Yeah, you know if I—“ Logan elbowed me, cutting off my next sentence. Turning on him with a glare, I amended, “Yeah, no problem.”
“Lovely,” she stated, clipping back up the stairs in her designer heels and pastel pink skirt and cream blouse.
“The kids don’t need to hear that,” Logan cautioned as we began our downward descent again.
“Oh, and what are you, a fuc
king expert on children now?” I hissed back at him, my protective nature going into overdrive.
He shook his head, holding the oversized front door open for me. “No, but I saw the way you and Tommy interact.”
I shrugged, not willing to get into it. Some memories really should stay buried, and the memory of finding Tommy was one of those.
…
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I looked over at Logan in the driver’s seat.
“It’s a four hour drive, we should probably get started,” I hinted.
He smiled, knowing I wanted to get going now that I had the intel. “I thought we shouldn’t jump the gun, for the sake of ‘destiny’ and The Oracle.”
Crossing my arms, I raised a brow at him. “The hotel is not the location The Oracle showed me.”
“Technicalities.”
“Whatever. Hurry up, let’s get your bag packed so we can get on the road. I should probably update Mark.”
I toyed with my phone before using the touch screen to place the call.
Mark answered on the first ring, groggily, “Olivia?”
“Hey Mark, I found Jerry.” No use in delaying my news. A sharp intake of air met my announcement.
“Where?” he rasped out.
“Nashville, TN. Logan and I are headed out now, do you want us to pick you up?” I ignored the pointed look Logan was throwing me.
“Yes,” he breathed out, amidst a massive exhale.
“Okay, be ready in thirty.” I ended the call, ready for Logan’s unneeded input.
“You shouldn’t be involving him in this. He’s too emotional, emotions cloud judgment.”
“He needs to do something, needs to feel like he is helping get Jerry back. While I agree his judgment is clouded, I trust him to get Jerry to safety so we can deal with the bitchy witches. “
“Witches certainly are fairly low on the supernatural totem pole,” Logan commented.
“For good reason,” I grunted. “When I first took over, they sucked up the biggest share of my time with their petty disagreements, coven boundary disputes, and other useless drama. It got to the point where I finally banned them from the Council. Their numbers were plentiful, more than adequate to protect their own. Not being able to do so was not a good enough reason for me to keep getting involved.”
Logan grunted. “They weren’t always so lowly. At one point they were highly revered for their knowledge.”
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen—and how the fuck old are you, anyways?” I asked as we pulled into Logan’s driveway.
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to ask someone’s age?”
I laughed, following him out of the car. “So you’re really old.”
He huffed, straightening his shirt. “Old enough to know something,” he smoothed, throwing me a wink.
I laughed again, following him into the house. “Did you just flirt with me?”
“No, I most certainly did not.” He was in front of me so I couldn’t see his face, but I had the distinct feeling he was joking. I couldn’t help but choose not to deal with it.
“Hurry up, princess,” I yelled as we cleared the door and he headed up the stairs. It seemed that both of us were in better spirits, finally having a target and something to do.
I headed to his kitchen for some snacks.
Logan found me with an open container of prepackaged cookie dough, using a spoon to eat it.
“Really?”
“What?” I asked around a mouthful. “I’m hungry.”
He shook his head. “Let’s get a move on.”
…
Mark was waiting for us with a black duffel bag and bags under his eyes to match. As we came to a stop, he threw his bag in before grunting and sliding in himself.
“Lay down,” Logan ordered him. “Sleep.”
I turned around, watching Mark’s jaw twitch with irritation, his wolf itching for a fight.
“It’s a four hour drive,” I said, “and we don’t plan on stopping for more than gas. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Reaching an arm back, I laid my hand on Mark’s fist resting on his knee, seeping tranquility into him. His eyes rolled back into his head as exhaustion took over and he slumped over his bag.
“Did you just make him sleep?” Logan asked.
“No, I gave him a little peace and the lack of sleep finally caught up to him.”
Logan grunted, “You going to sleep also?”
“Doubtful.”
…
After a three hour and forty-five minute trip with a single pit stop for snacks and gas, we pulled into The Majestic. I tried to keep my gaze away from the coffee shop, failing repeatedly. Hoisting my bags, one of clothing and another of weapons, I followed the boys inside.
“Fancy luggage, Logan,” I commented on his rolling suitcase.
“Jealous?” he asked.
Even Mark, who walked next to me looking a little more rested, cracked a small smile. Having something to kill was helping us all.
The hotel was lavish. The floors were pristine, the pearl tiles inscribed with a carefully scripted black onyx M. Black leather chairs enclosed a small sitting area with matching black tables and white lamps.
Logan looked at home striding to the lobby desk, while Mark and I shifted with unease, knowing we must be standing out like sore thumbs. Logan took the keys from the lady behind the desk and Mark snickered, “Looks like we are sharing a room.”
“Damn shifter hearing,” I sighed. “As if I wasn’t jealous enough of the claws and fangs.”
“You’re jealous of fangs?” Mark asked as we fell in line with Logan, making the short trip to the elevators.
“Totally, I’d love to smile at someone and have gleaming fangs to terrify them with.”
“You aren’t very intimidating,” Logan commented.
“I know,” I huffed. “I have to kill to get any respect.”
“Tragic,” Mark agreed sarcastically.
“So, you and Mark sharing a bed?” I asked Logan.
Not breaking stride as we moved out of the elevator he replied, “I thought we would share a bed and give Mark some space.”
I huffed, couldn’t fight with that logic.
“How much longer?” Mark asked, following Logan through the now open room door.
I looked at my watch, “A few more hours, enough time to eat and get some rest before we need to scout out the location. Although I won’t be able to go in.”
“Why?” Mark asked, setting his duffel bag on a bed. I thumped my own two down next to Logan’s on the bed closest to the window.
“I don’t want to screw with The Oracle’s prediction. We need to get Jerry and I don’t have time to make another trip to her.”
Mark nodded soberly.
“I call dibs on the shower,” I announced, grabbing my toiletry bag and staking my claim.
…
When my fingers were pruned and I had made a valiant attempt at using all the hot water in the hotel, I finally emerged, wrapped in a towel.
“I’m out,” I announced, rummaging though my bag and seeing Mark deeply engrossed in the file Becky had given us.
“Any thoughts on that?” I asked as Logan made his way into the shower.
I changed quickly, throwing on underwear under the towel along with soft cloth shorts, and then displacing the towel by sliding on a tank top. Forget bras, I was done wearing one for a few hours.
“Like how the zombies managed to not only appear in Ohio but also in St. Ann,” I continued, “with two different groups of people?”
“They are probably working together. Destiny gave him a few zombies so they could split up and take care of business, her opening a portal and him killing Logan.”
“That’s so obvious it hurts that I missed it.”
He sent me an understanding smile. “Fresh eyes.”
I groaned, pulling back the comforter and crashing into the soft sheets. “Wake me up in four hours.”
A short time late
r when I wasn’t sleeping but obsessively replaying the day’s events and Mark’s observation, I heard the boys talking.
“Have you discovered anything else?” Logan asked.
“No,” Mark sighed. “I wish it could tell us more.”
“We will get him back,” Logan stressed.
“I know,” his voice made me think there was much left unsaid. I kept my breathing level, not wanting to disturb their conversation.
“Is it true about Lorraine?”
Logan grunted, his weight shifting the bed beneath me. “Which part?”
“Did she really cheat on you with another shifter, and is Olie really protecting her and possibly your unborn child?”
“Unfortunately, yes to all of it.”
Mark gave a low whistle. “What are you going to do?”
I heard Logan’s head thump against the headboard. “Find out if the child is mine first, and honestly I haven’t thought past that.”
“But you are done with her?” Mark asked eagerly.
I could hear the rueful smile in Logan’s voice. “Yes, I think I have kept her around too long. She wasn’t always the power hungry, inconsiderate nuisance she is today. At one point I loved her. I thought—” His weight shifted. “I hoped she would return to the person I fell in love with. Besides, marrying a human would help with our PR.”
“Maybe, but not that human.”
Logan gave a long sigh. “I know.” His tight response ended the conversation. Logan might be able to take criticism, but he was still an Alpha among alphas.
“Thank you, thank you for helping me get Jerry back,” Mark whispered, his voice tense from repressed emotions I could feel from ten feet away. He cleared his throat before continuing, “You and Olivia have been spending a lot of time together.”
Logan grunted a response.
“She is a worthy leader and mate,” Mark offered tentatively.
“Alright matchmaker, that’s enough,” I declared. I scooted toward Logan on the queen bed, “Get over here, and shut up.”
“Really?” Mark asked hopefully.
“Yes, I forgot how much shifters like to cuddle.”
“What, Bear not offer you any cuddling time?” Logan jabbed. The insult hurt.
“No Logan, I wasn’t after Bear for snuggles.”