And the magic that continued to wrap around me like a lover.
It clung.
It tugged on me.
Follow, it whispered.
Follow…
It had been an age since I’d had to track like this. But there was no doubt I could do it.
I focused on that tug in my gut and shoved open the door to Howler’s.
I didn’t hear the footsteps, but I knew I wasn’t alone.
Abraham said nothing and for that I was thankful.
The place had been destroyed.
My mind cataloged everything for future reference even as a calm mental voice made a checklist of everything that already had an easy explanation. There was damage to the bar, signs that somebody’s head had been smashed into it, along with streaks of blood—the scent of it too close to human to be anybody’s but Justin’s, but right next to that, I could see scorch marks.
It would take a lot more than a dented head to do Justin in.
He was made of sterner stuff than that.
Slowly, I turned, taking in everything.
He’d burned her. Under the heaviest scent layer of blood, I could just barely smell the stink of something burnt. I needed Doyle or Damon. One of them could get a better idea of how badly she’d been hurt. But for now, I used what my eyes and brain could piece together.
One table was smashed completely. There were pieces barely large enough to use as toothpicks now. That wouldn’t be the case if Justin had slammed her into it, unless she’d shifted or if he’d thrown her into it using his magic. If she’d thrown him into it that hard, there’d be traces of his blood and I didn’t smell any there.
I closed my eyes and breathed in again, breaking down the scents as much as I could.
So much blood. So much of Justin’s blood.
The door behind me opened and I whirled around, my sword already drawn.
Abraham had moved like liquid darkness, placing himself between me and the newcomer.
Damon.
His eyes rolled to green-gold as they landed on Abraham, his lips peeling back from his teeth in a snarl.
“Damon.” I tried to keep my voice steady.
I tried so hard but at the sight of him, reality hit me and I could feel my control faltering.
Damon’s gaze shifted from Abraham to me.
He moved around the vampire and came straight to me, his arms coming around me for a quick, tight hug. Then he moved away. It was a good thing, because if he’d stayed much longer, I would have grabbed on and the storm building in me might have broken.
“I’m going to kill her,” I said as he moved to stand in the middle of the room.
Damon’s gray eyes came to mine and a small smile twisted his lips. “Of course you are.” Then his lids lowered and he tipped his head back.
I left him to it.
He could break down the scent trail.
I was tracking Justin.
They found me miles away from the Abyss.
I closed my eyes and slid back into that semi-trance state. It had come easier that time, easier, quicker. I didn’t remember leaving the bar.
I didn’t remember anything except that voice in my head. The one that murmured, Follow…follow.
Magic and I weren’t easy bedfellows. I had my own subtle forms, there was no denying that and I could recognize magic—recognize it well enough to even know whose I was feeling, if I was familiar enough with the person.
And Justin’s magic had been all over Howler’s.
An angry, pissed-off sort of magic, the kind to both attack and defend and I was following the tug of that now, but it wasn’t an easy fit.
Trying to follow a magic trail was sort of like a trail of dust motes…and fire ants. It itched and burned and every instinct in me screamed to stop.
Needless to say when two men came bearing down on me, I wasn’t in a good mood.
Damon was the one brave enough to grab me by the arms when I didn’t slow down.
“Let me go!”
Instead, he hauled me off my feet and shook me like I was a ragdoll. “Wake up!” he snarled into my face.
“I am awake!”
Then I blinked and looked around.
Okay, I was mostly awake. Blowing out a shaky breath, I said, “Where am I?”
“You crossed out of East Orlando city limits nearly ten minutes ago,” he said, his voice unreadable. “I had to track you. You went outside and I stayed inside, figured you were just prowling around. But you took off.” He stopped and ran his tongue across his teeth. “You don’t generally move that fast.”
“I…” The itching, that driving need to keep moving grew stronger and I had to fight the urge to jerk out of his hands and take off running. “It’s just…”
Damon’s hands smoothed up, then down my arms. “Take a deep breath, Kit. Breathe, clear your head.”
I scowled at him even as memory worked free.
Justin would have said that.
Clear your head, Kitty-kitty…focus on the prize.
“You going to be my coach or something?”
“Or something. I was around when Doyle had to do this…” A dark look entered his eyes and he laid a hand on my cheek. “Once upon a time.”
I covered his hand with mine. Doyle…
Doyle. And Justin. Justin had helped Doyle find me. “Help me find him,” I whispered.
“I will.” Then he smiled, his hard face softening. Damon gave my ear a quick tug. “But you don’t really need me for this, Kit. You know how to do this. You’ve done it before and you learned how on your own. You just have to stop reacting…and think. What would he have done to her? What is going on with him and where are you going? Where is your gut taking you? Are you following her …or him?”
He cupped my face in his hands and pressed his brow to mine. “Climb inside their heads, Kit. It’s what you do.”
I vaguely aware of Abraham coming up behind me and there were shadows behind him. Others. Too many others. Dimly, I realized who it was—knew the feel of their presence stinging against my shields. Chang. Doyle. Scott. Others I didn’t know.
I ignored them.
Justin…
I let it play out in my head, my imagination kicking in—how much was imagination, how much was just an educated guess…how much was just bullshit…
My mind sketched it out.
Justin going into Howler’s.
Would she already be there?
Yes.
It was the MacDonald’s place and she was his second. She would have gone in and cleared it out. No witnesses.
That would have made Justin leery.
He would have shielded up, hard. But subtle.
Then…
They were sitting. Close.
Was he already suspicious?
He might not have been—
No. That’s not right.
Justin is a suspicious bastard by nature and I hadn’t smelled the recent presence of others, nor had Abraham mentioned it. There had been no blood from others, no bodies. Howlers hadn’t exactly been hopping the other day, but it had been far from empty, too. Yeah, the very emptiness would have made him very, very curious and Justin’s curiosity isn’t a soft, pretty thing.
They were sitting down.
She attacks—hit him somehow, I thought, forcing myself to separate the rage. She hit him and it hurt him, but not enough because he lashed out with one thing that makes just about any creature freak.
Fire.
It wasn’t enough to kill, just enough to let him regroup.
He hadn’t wanted her dead, because if he had, he could have just flamed her ass to death. He wasn’t a natural born pyro, but again, with a witch of Justin’s power level, it’s all intent, will and skill and once he had the flames going, they wouldn’t have gone out until he wanted them to.
So he’d wanted her alive.
For information.
Yeah, made sense. It was a gamble, of course, and one that hadn’t paid
off, because Justin was hurt, missing now, and she had him.
Shifting my focus to her, I tried to put myself in her head.
If she got him out of Florida, he was dead. But that was a big if. The state line was a couple hours away, unless she flew and that wouldn’t be possible without authorization—she was a known NH. Flight was restricted for NHs and authorization was required. She could try for private, but that took time and she had very little.
So that required she drive through territory that was either populated by humans or mostly under the control of the cats.
Damon’s people would be on the lookout and she’d know that by now. Megan would be desperate. If she was found out, her Alpha would destroy her. There wouldn’t even be skin left by the time he was done. She’d reduced herself to the same level as Saul—a skintrader, somebody who sold out her own kind.
Why?
“Doesn’t matter,” I muttered. Although it might—
“No.” I shook my head, uncaring of that fact I probably looked insane to everybody who was watching. Staring at nothing, pacing, muttering to myself and generally looking like a madwoman.
The why might matter, later. But right now, the where mattered.
The big obstacle. Get Justin out of Florida.
He’d know that, so he’d have to fight that.
But if he was hurt or unconscious—
It hit me then.
That was it.
I dropped my hands and spun around, practically launching myself at Damon. “Colleen. I have to get to Colleen.”
He closed his hands around my wrists. I’d grabbed the front of his jacket like I would shake him but really, I was just trying to ground myself. “Okay.” His gray eyes, calm and unshakeable, held mine. “Why?”
“That’s what he’d do.” I drew in a breath and suddenly, I felt like me again. The panic eased back like it had never been and I could think. “You asked me what he’d do. Justin knows if she gets him out of Florida, she’ll get him to whoever is collecting the bodies for the hospital. So he’ll ward himself…no. That’s not right. He uses wards, like those at my office to keep things out, but he can do similar magics on people. I don’t know what they are, how they work, but I’ve seen him use his magic to keep people. One guy, we thought he’d rabbit on us before we found proof so he just use some sort of spell to keep the guy contained in the area where he normally lived and worked. He got nervous and tried to run—but he could only run in circles in that area. Justin can do that to himself and it would hold, right up to his death.”
“So why do you need Colleen?” Damon passed a hand over my hair.
“She can help me lock in on him.” I flexed my hands. “I’m trying to do that now, but I’m fried. I can track him down eventually but that could take hours and we don’t have that time to waste.”
He smoothed a hand down my hair. “You’re moving pretty well on your own.”
“No.” Frustrated, I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m not as good at this as I need to be. All the magic he’d pumped into the air has me jumpy and I’m nervous… I need to go to Colleen’s.”
Need.
Had to.
Colleen lived too far away.
Personally, I understood.
Really.
But not today.
Today, I wanted to get her on the phone and yell at her, shake her, for insisting on living more than thirty minutes outside the city.
Of course, I tried calling her to tell her what was going on, but she wasn’t answering and I couldn’t leave a message—messaging service is unavailable at this time. I’d yell at her about that for sure.
Then I wanted to turn my fury on Abraham as he dropped down out of the sky, landing in a crouch, one fist planted into the earth. Dust rose up from the impact of his abrupt landing. He strode around to the door and before Damon could speak, he said, “She’s there.”
Well, of course—
“Megan Banks,” he said, clarifying. His gaze flew to my face. “She’s at the witch’s house. Your friend. When you couldn’t reach her, I flew ahead to check on her. Megan is there.”
My heart seized.
“Talk.” Damon demanded.
“Greaves is there as well. I smell his blood, but I dare not get any closer for fear of alerting her,” Abraham said, speaking quickly, not bothering to look back as a car came to a stop behind Damon. Other cars laid on the horns. Damon had just stopped in the middle of the road. Scott strode toward the back of the second car and stood there. I could see him, a human-shaped wall in a three piece suit, arms folded over his chest as he stared down at the road.
If a car came barreling down the road at him and decided not to move, Scott would just move it himself.
When a shiny black sports car slowed down in front of him, my shoulders went tight and one by one, the others turned their heads.
The MacDonald climbed out of his car and came toward us, each step slow and deliberate.
Three of his men moved in unison at his back.
Megan’s absence was another stab in my heart. Part of me still hoped I was wrong, despite what everything my body—and the others—could already tell.
“What is going on?” Alisdair MacDonald asked softly. His gaze flicked to mine, one straight black brow going up. “What was the meaning of the call I received earlier, Kit?”
“Megan’s gone fucking nuts,” I said, fear and fury eradicating any diplomacy I would have normally shot for.
The shadow at his right took a step forward. “Use care how you—”
Chang stepped between us.
I’d barely noticed him.
And care wasn’t in my vocabulary right now. Baring my teeth, I glared at the puppet. “I’ll use care after I’m done shoving my sword up Megan’s ass.” Then I shifted my attention to Dair. “She has Justin.”
Dair’s eyes flashed gold and he shot out a hand just as the soldier at his side went to move forward.
Chang was resting on the balls of his feet, almost like he was hoping the wolf would attack.
Apparently I wasn’t the only one spoiling for a fight.
“Why would you say this?”
“Because I was at the place where it happened,” I said, fighting the trembling that threatened to overwhelm me. “I might not be able to break down the scent layers like you can, but my nose doesn’t suck. I smelled her, I smelled him and the magic in the air almost knocked me off my feet—I’m still choking on it. She attacked him and he fought back.”
“How do you know he didn’t attack her first?” Dair asked.
But he knew.
I saw it in his eyes.
“Because he went there looking for answers,” I said. “And if Justin had attacked first, she’d be dead. Justin knows what a high level wolf is capable of. Hardly anybody knows what a warrior witch is capable of until they’ve fought one. If she had any idea what she was taking on with him, she would have put him out with the first blow. She didn’t and she missed her shot.”
While Dair processed this, Abraham took a step forward. “I caught traces of blood, Alpha MacDonald. The witch bled first—he also bled the most. Your second bled some, but not a great deal. She was burned, as well. I find no fault with Ms. Colbana’s theory.”
“Except of course it requires that I believe my top person has betrayed me,” Dair said, his voice icy.
“You already know she has,” I said quietly. “That’s why you hired outsiders when you started to suspect things were wrong at Howlers. You got even more concerned when the wolf Drake died.”
He didn’t answer.
But the look on his face spoke volumes and we all saw it.
“I’m leaving,” I said gently. Then I looked at Damon.
If Megan had hurt Justin, a man who could—and would—break bones—what would she do to a woman who couldn’t defend herself?
Chapter Seventeen
The whisper of Colleen’s wards brushed over my skin like a warm hug from an old friend.
>
The magic here knew me.
It knew me. It welcomed me.
And it spoke to me.
That hug clung to me and didn’t let go, because the wards were living, breathing extensions of Colleen’s magic and they responded to her emotions. Her emotions were full of anger and helplessness and fear and I felt all of them, all over me as I crossed the creekstone path that led to her front door. Glass sparkled in the sun and I fought not to let my expression change even when I caught the scent in the air.
More blood.
How much had Justin lost?
Was he even conscious?
I hit the door with the side of my fist. Hard. “Open up, Coll. I need your help! Justin’s hurt.”
I was going to fake my way through that door. Damon and the rest of them had stayed a mile back. They could hear me—just faintly, if I screamed and they could be here in minutes. I was banking on the protections in Colleen’s house to give me those minutes—well, Colleen’s protections and mine. The protection that came in the form of the mean-ass Glock I had holstered to my thigh. The protective strap was off, but most people wouldn’t notice. Cops, other weapons aficionados, sure, they’d notice. But Megan was her own weapon. She didn’t put a lot of stock in what she’d once called my toys.
My hands all but itching to draw this particular toy and make her eat every last bullet inside.
There was a faint sound from inside—I heard it, a low grunt. “Come on, Colleen. I hear you moving around in there. I need your help, damn it!”
A few more seconds passed before I heard her voice. It was low and rough and I heard the pain in it. “Kit, I’m sorry, but it’s not a good time.”
“Too fucking bad!” I hit the door again. “Didn’t you hear me? Justin’s in trouble. I need…wait. Colleen…?” I let a small note of the fear inside me infuse my voice. “Are you okay?”
I sucked in a breath, made it louder than it needed it to be.
Megan was in there. I could hear her breathing—actually, if I strained, I could hear three different breathing patterns.
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