by Meg Ripley
“Excuse me?”
Neal held up her planner. “You have that appointment with the attorney written down for next week.”
“And Mr. Dinsmore was kind enough to move it up for me when he had an opening,” she explained simply. “It’s not a big deal.”
Clint and Max exchanged a look. They clearly didn’t believe her. Shit.
“What did he say about buying the property?” Neal inquired.
“He’s working on it.” Nikki was ready for that question. “The only glitch is that the current owner isn’t particularly motivated to let go of it. He’ll call me as soon as he has something.”
“We would’ve been happy to go with you,” Clint observed. “It would’ve been much safer, too.”
She touched his cheek, forcing herself not to pull her hand back in revulsion. “You can’t always be around to stand guard over me. It’s not practical. Besides, I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?” Max challenged. “You don’t look well.”
Nikki wasn’t sure if he meant it or if he was trying to gauge how well their spell was working. She knew it wasn’t, but she didn’t want them to know that. “I’m a little tired from heading out, especially after staying in bed so much, and I’m upset about Piper. I know she was betraying me, but hearing about what happened to her…” She swallowed her words, ready to gag on them. It was bad enough that she had to pretend to still be in their clutches, but to betray the memory of her sister was completely wrong. Nikki told herself that Piper would understand if she were there. “Anyway, I want to lay down for a bit.” She retreated into the solace of her bedroom.
But she realized now that it was nothing more than a prison. Nikki wanted only to get out and run back to Drake. She felt so good when she was near him, almost like none of this nightmare had ever happened. There was nothing she could do to change the past or take it all back, but he made her feel as though everything would be all right again. Being stuck there, in her own home that should be a sanctuary, was pure torture.
Nikki did her best to get some rest. Even though she felt much better now that the spell was broken, she knew she wasn’t completely back to her old self. She laid down and took deep breaths, but it was so difficult to remain still when she was filled with the urge to act. How good it would feel if she could just slip out the back door, let her body take its most comfortable shape, and run off into the woods…
She heard a gentle knock on her door a couple of hours later. “Dinner time,” Neal said.
“Coming.” Her stomach rumbled, and she knew she had to keep up her strength. Eating in her room wasn’t an option if she wanted to prove to the men that she was still under their control. They stared at her throughout the meal, exchanging glances with each other and hardly saying a word. She didn’t like what that meant.
“Thank you very much,” she said to Max, who’d prepared the roasted chicken. “It was delicious as always, but I’m completely wiped out. I’m going back to bed.”
He put his hand on her wrist as she rose from her chair. “I think there’s some clan business you were going to take care of today.”
Was he testing her? Why should he care if she actually did the things she was supposed to? “Oh? I’m sure you’re right. But I’m tired, and it can wait.” Her stomach lurched as she made her way back to her room. When she closed the door behind her, she headed straight for the bathroom. Her body continued to rack with spasms in an effort to purge everything, and Nikki didn’t even have the energy to drag herself back to bed. She curled up on the bathroom rug, focusing on the softness of the fibers in an effort to distract herself from her pain.
Finally, an hour or so later—though she couldn’t be completely sure of the time—she crawled out of the bathroom and retrieved her cell from the dresser. It was remarkable none of the men had taken it from her yet, but Nikki knew it was still possible they were monitoring it. That was a risk she was going to have to take. She pulled up Drake’s number and sent him a text. Very sick. Think I need a doctor.
It took every last ounce of strength she had within her, but Nikki dug her fingernails into her mattress and pulled herself into bed. She buried herself in the blankets, wondering if this all would’ve been easier if they’d killed her when they killed Piper.
14
“Okay, so she drank the antidote. Everything should be fine now, right?” Garrison sat on the edge of the bed in Drake’s hotel room, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees.
“If it’s not, I’m more than happy to crack some skulls,” Flint offered from his post near the window.
Drake sighed. “She drank it, but I don’t think it’s going to be that simple. I’d be more than happy to take these guys out, but I think we’d be missing our chance to see the bigger picture. We’ve got to find a better way, a more subtle way.”
Flint grimaced. “You’re no fun.”
“Never said I was,” Drake replied.
Hudson had set up a computer on the desk and he pointed to the image on the screen. “Those douchebags never leave the house, so I wasn’t able to set up the bugs I wanted to. But I do have a video feed on the driveway, the front of the house, and the back. It looks like there’s been very little activity. The guys haven’t left, and I haven’t seen any sign of Nikki. Not even through a window.”
Drake’s jaw tightened. “I don’t like that. If they’ve figured out she’s no longer under their spell, then there’s no telling what they might do to her. Or what they might do to get her back once we pull her out.” He kicked himself for letting her go in the first place. He was the one with military training. He was the hero. He shouldn’t have put that burden on her.
“I still say we take them down in a bright blaze of glory,” Flint offered. Then he let out a small laugh. “The state of California would shit its pants if it had any idea what kind of weapons I brought over the border.”
“And we may yet need them at some point,” Drake replied calmly, used to Flint’s itchy trigger finger, “but we don’t want to call any extra attention to the clan. It won’t help them if the human authorities come sniffing around, which they’re sure to do if they notice a mushroom cloud above the tree line.” He picked up his phone off the nightstand. “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” Hudson was at his side immediately.
Drake felt his heart sink all the way down into his feet. “Nikki texted me. She’s sick. I must’ve accidentally turned the ringer down while the phone was in my pocket.” He slammed a fist into the wall, knowing he’d have to pay for the damage later. He was supposed to be better than this.
“Sick?” Garrison questioned. “Could the antidote have made her ill?”
“I don’t know.” Drake didn’t want to waste another second. “I’m going to get her.”
The other men got ready to leave with him.
“No.” He put up his hand, signaling for them to stop. “If these guys are involved with some sort of freaky magic, then there’s no telling what they could do to any one of us. I’m going in alone. You can be posted nearby in case I need a distraction, but otherwise, I don’t want to risk your lives as well as mine. If something happens to me, you can decide what to do from there.”
Hudson, Garrison, and Flint exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. “You know where we’ll be when you need us,” Hudson offered.
The drive to Nikki’s wasn’t a long one, but it provided plenty of time for Drake to imagine what he might find once he got there. How sick was she? Or was she actually sick at all? The text could’ve been a code for something. What if her fake mates had found the message and moved her to another location? Or worse, killed her? He swallowed the bile rising in his throat and slammed his foot on the accelerator.
Drake knew the men wouldn’t leave Nikki unguarded, but he was surprised they hadn’t figured out how easy it was to break into her bedroom window. She still hadn’t locked it since the last time he’d used it. Drake was aware this could be a trap, but he was wi
lling to find out.
He slipped in quietly, finding Nikki on the bed. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed in purple, her breath coming in ragged gasps. A fine layer of sweat coated her skin, and she moaned as he touched her arm.
“Nikki,” he whispered. “Wake up. It’s me, Drake. I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.”
She twisted and writhed but didn’t waken.
He listened for noises throughout the rest of the house. The television blared in the living room and the air conditioner hummed, but little else reached his ears. “Nikki.” He was more urgent this time, ready to sneak her out. She didn’t look like she’d be able to leave under her own power, but he’d make it work. “Get up. We’re getting out of here. I shouldn’t have waited so long.”
She turned to him, her forehead scrunching as she slowly came out of her sleep. When she opened her eyes, they looked straight into his for a long moment. His inner bear stirred, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms, carry her out right through the front door and dare anyone to defy him. She was his, and he knew it.
But the look in her eyes shifted, and she was staring off into the distance. “Who are you?” she demanded.
“What?” He stiffened, horrified. How could he feel such a connection with her when she didn’t even know who he was? “Nikki, it’s me, Drake. You know me. I’m here to rescue you.”
She recoiled, trying to get as far away from him as possible without getting out of bed. “Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my bedroom? Leave me the hell alone!” Her voice was getting louder.
“Quiet, or they’re going to hear you!” Drake warned. “Just come with me. I can protect you. I can keep you safe. I can make you feel better again.”
But Nikki didn’t want to be rescued. She pursed her lips and narrowed her gaze. “Get. Out.”
Drake felt desperate. He knew deep within his soul that Nikki didn’t feel that way. She didn’t really want him to leave. But how could he explain everything he felt about her in the split-second he had left before she alerted her guards? He moved toward her, hoping a kiss would do the trick.
It might’ve, if she’d let him get anywhere near her. “Clint!” she screamed. “Max! Neal! Intruder!”
“Don’t do this, Nikki!” he hissed. “We’ve got to go!”
Her screams were filing the room now, and she swiped a lamp from the night table. Nikki lifted it over her head.
Drake knew he had no choice. There wasn’t time to scoop her up, kicking and screaming, and drag her out the window. Even if he did, he’d never make it through the field and back into the woods before the other shifters found him. They would have the advantage on him, not having to carry a hostage with them. As much as it pained him, Drake dove back out through the window and shut it behind him as he heard the bedroom door slam open.
He let his adrenaline take control and push him outward into his bear physique, only a small relief considering what had happened. I’m out, but I don’t have her.
So can we all go in there and tear them to pieces now? Flint was, as always, still eager for conflict.
No, but you can stay here and keep your eyes open while I go talk to Fern. It was the next best thing he could think of. She was the only person he knew who understood magic, and something had clearly happened to Nikki since she’d left him at the hotel.
He pulled into her driveway a short while later, the smell of burning rubber still thick in the air as he slammed his car door behind him. Fern came trotting down her porch steps, fear evident in her green eyes. “What is it?”
He ushered Fern back inside, not willing to talk about this out in the open. “Is there any chance the potion you gave me for Nikki could’ve made her sick?”
“Sick?” she repeated, looking stunned. “I highly doubt it, unless she’s allergic to one of the ingredients. What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Drake was sick of giving that as an answer, but he really didn’t. Nikki looked ill, but he had no idea what her actual symptoms were. “By the time I got to her, she looked so weak and tired, and I could barely get her to wake up. When she did, it was like something possessed her. She started acting crazy, and she didn’t seem to know who I was anymore.”
Fern frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Yeah, and I didn’t like the look of it.” With all of his training, he could spot most common illnesses and diseases from a mile away. It was so frustrating to see that Nikki was clearly sick but not know why or what to do about it. “I don’t get it. I thought she was supposed to be better after she drank that stuff.”
“She should be,” the witch agreed with a nod. She sat down on the floor next to the coffee table and began flipping through the pages of her massive grimoire. “There’s a possibility, though, that there’s more going on here than what we understand.”
“What do you mean?” Drake fought the urge to snatch the book out of her hands and look at it himself, but he had a feeling that magic wouldn’t be as simple as looking up a recipe.
“First, tell me what happened when she drank the elixir I gave you.” Fern continued to turn the pages.
Drake flipped his hands in exasperation. “She seemed fine. Wonderful, even. She refused to take it at first, but once she did, she came and found me at the hotel. She was like a different person.” He recalled how she practically glowed as she sat with him in the garden at the hotel, and how much he’d wanted to keep her with him instead of sending her back into enemy territory.
The witch nodded. “I was afraid you’d say that.” She let go of the book and leaned back against the couch with a sigh. “Nikki was under a spell, and as you know, I could decipher it from a personal object of hers. But what you’re telling me indicates there’s another spell, one that might be deadly. You’ve got to get Nikki over here as soon as possible.”
“And you think you can break it?” he asked hopefully.
She sighed again. “I hope so, and having her in person will make it more likely. But Raven—if she’s truly the one behind this—is a very powerful witch. I can’t guarantee anything.”
“I understand.” Drake felt like he was on a rollercoaster of hope, constantly losing it and gaining it back again.
15
Nikki’s head and mouth felt like they were full of cotton. She rose from her bed and stumbled to the door, vaguely aware that there was something she was supposed to do. Buried deep within her was a sense of urgency, but the fog of illness was keeping it at bay.
Neal was in the living room. “You’re up!” he said, putting down his book and rushing to her side. “How do you feel?”
“Horrible,” she mumbled. “Is there any coffee?”
“Of course.” He guided her to the couch before fetching her a cup, just the way she liked it with cream and no sugar. “Shouldn’t you go back to bed, though?”
Nikki shook her head, but the action hurt. “I can’t. I’ve got things to do.”
“Like what?” Neal sat next to her, his hand on her knee. “I’m sure they can wait.”
“No, they can’t.” She took a sip of the coffee. It tasted far too bitter, but she needed the energy from the caffeine. She had to…what was it again? “I can’t think straight this morning.”
“You’ve been really sick,” Neal offered. “Just relax.”
But Nikki didn’t want to relax. Her brain and her body were in a battle with each other, her body demanding that she do as Neal suggested and go back to bed, and her brain struggling to get her to realize something…something that had to do with the clan. She pressed her palm against her forehead as she tried to think of the last meeting, but then she remembered she hadn’t gone. “It’s about clan business. I think it’s something to do with the new medic. Oh! I’m supposed to do something with Drake.”
“Drake? No, you’re definitely wrong about that. Don’t you remember, baby? He’s been trying to take over the clan and he killed your sister.”
Nikki reeled with the informat
ion. “That can’t be right.” She couldn’t find the words to explain it to Neal. Nothing was making sense. But if Drake was such a bad guy, then why did she feel such a strong need to talk to him? She knew she needed him for something, and thinking about him made her feel warm and happy inside. That wasn’t how she could feel about someone who’d killed her sister. Nikki felt like she was caught up in some sick, twisted soap opera.
“It is,” Neal assured her. “You’re very confused right now.”
At least that last part made sense. Nikki tried to parse out her memories of Drake. “There’s something I’m supposed to do. I should’ve written it down or something…Drake’s staying at this hotel off 101. And he’s got his daughter with him. I was so surprised by that, but I guess I shouldn’t be…” She trailed off again, not sure where she was going with any of this.
Neal, however, suddenly seemed to have remembered he had something to do as well. He shot off the couch and into the kitchen where Clint and Max were. He returned a moment later took Nikki’s hands, pulling her to her feet and guiding her back toward her bedroom. “You’ve been up long enough, and it’s time to go back to bed.”
She was suddenly unaware of how long she’d been sitting there. Had it been an hour or a minute? She couldn’t tell. “But I was supposed to…”
“The only thing you’re supposed to do is get some rest and feel better, as far as we’re concerned,” Neal admonished. “Anything that comes up, we’ll take care of. I promise.”
She touched his cheek as she turned in her bedroom doorway. “You’re so sweet to take care of me.”
He grinned at her. “Yes. Of course. Now go to bed.” He shut the door firmly behind her.
Nikki woke up sometime later, though she’d lost track of time once again. She stared at her alarm clock for a long moment, but the bright numbers didn’t make any sense. Her mind was even more clouded than ever. She knew there had to be something she was supposed to do, but she was starting to lose the motivation to even figure it out. Thinking cost too much precious energy.