“Reminds me a little of Vegas,” she said. “Less shiny, though.”
I winced inwardly at my moment of urban prejudice. Right. Just because she preferred hunting in the wilds of the Wild West didn’t mean she never hit cities.
“I do hate driving in cities,” she murmured tiredly. “Too much traffic and honking.”
The Lyft driver snorted in agreement.
“I don’t even own a car here,” I said. “Parking in my building is $425 a month.”
Blaize’s mouth opened, then closed shut as she thought better of it. “Suddenly, my little mattress doesn’t seem that bad,” she muttered, looking out the window again.
The Lyft driver pulled over to the curb in front of the bar on Folsom Street, and I thanked him as we made our way out of the car.
His eyes flicked to Wolf again, and he licked his lips nervously. “No problem.”
And he sped away.
“Definitely easier than finding a parking garage,” Blaize mused, watching him leave.
“Especially in SoMa,” I agreed.
Blaize looked at the bar, which had a flickering neon sign. It looked rundown, like no one had bothered touching it up in decades.
“The Moon Moon?” she asked incredulously. “We’re going to The Moon Moon?”
Yep, that was the name of the bar. Someone in the pack must have gotten drunk and thought that was a good idea. They could have tried a little harder to be inconspicuous.
Then again, you’re the one with three boyfriends.
Hopefully I’d still have three boyfriends after all this. I shuddered to think what would happen to Orin’s and Avery’s homes if the Winter Court seized control of the Autumn Court. Kellan wouldn’t stop at just one.
He’d try for all of them.
“Who said werewolves were smart?” I sighed.
Wolf let out a low bark, which I duly ignored. Blaize leaned over to remove the turquoise collar from Wolf’s neck as I strode up to the bouncer at the door. My nostrils flared as I watched him warily. This big man in a leather vest and chaps definitely looked like he belonged on Folsom street, but there was something feral in his eyes as he watched me.
Another werewolf, I believed.
I clutched my purse closer to me. Wolf hadn’t said anything—not that he did say anything in English—but I hoped this bouncer couldn’t sense my silver-tipped stakes in my bag. It was enough to cause damage, but the idea was that it was so minimal, it would only be threatening.
The bouncer appraised me as I stepped up.
“You don’t belong here,” he said gruffly. Like he thought I didn’t know this was a front for a werewolf pack.
I cocked my head to the side. “And neither does a friend of mine, but you furries kidnapped him yesterday. And I want him back.”
His eyes narrowed, and I defiantly held his stare. I sensed Blaize and Wolf come up behind me, and he averted his gaze, looking down at Wolf. Recognition flared in his expression. Whether it was because he knew Wolf personally or it was just because he saw we were with a werewolf, I had no idea.
The bouncer looked at me again, smiling slightly. “I see you brought company.”
Wolf snarled something, and the bouncer blinked, obviously understanding what he said. Never have I been so glad that fairies had a grasp of human language. I couldn’t imagine how irritating it must be for Blaize to battle monsters that mostly spoke in howls and snarls.
“I see,” the bouncer said in response to Wolf. He leaned in the doorway, partially obscured. Blaize looked at me, raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question, but all I could do was shrug.
Wolf must have said something to get the bouncer talking.
I could see him gesturing to someone out of sight and speaking in tones too low for my human ears to pick up, but after about thirty seconds, he came back out, scrutinizing us again with fresh eyes.
“The pack leader will speak to you,” he said, “Cassidy Irons and Blaize Silver.”
To both Blaize’s and my credit, we kept the surprise from our faces as he stepped aside and let us into the answering darkness inside.
“You have some explaining to do,” Blaize muttered to Wolf. The beast just had a dopey grin on his face as we walked into the wide, open space.
The Moon Moon was dark inside, and, like the outside, looked like it needed some desperate updating. There was a bar to one side, where they were serving patrons, while booths lined the other wall, where people—werewolves, mostly, though there were some other supernatural creatures, too—lounged with their drinks, chatting with each other. Heavy metal music blasted through speakers that had blown a long time ago, setting my teeth on edge.
Even the floor was sticky, and I already regretted wearing my nice shoes here. Who knew was I was walking in?
Don’t focus on that.
Members in their wolf forms walked around, giving us the evil eye as we entered. I never felt more human than I did now. We were lambs walking into a wolves’ den.
Chapter Eleven
Cassidy
Think about Drake, think about Drake.
“Cassidy Irons and Blaize Silver?”
I turned my attention to a waifish young girl who couldn’t have been older than eighteen. She wore a tight mini skirt and a pair of costume wolf ears, along with some furry mittens.
Were they even trying to hide from the human world?
“That’s us,” Blaize said, when I didn’t answer fast enough. “We’re here to see the pack leader. Ask a few questions.”
“She’s been expecting you,” the girl said with a giggle. “In fact, I think she was excited!”
“Excited?” I echoed.
She nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. She needs your help.”
Blaize frowned.
“ Our help?” Incredulity laced my voice. “Look, we’re here because you guys took my boyfriend. A fairy about yay high?” I indicated Drake’s height with my hand, and my heart twisted at his absence.
“We didn’t take him.”
It wasn’t the girl who spoke, but an older woman sitting in a round booth. There was a ruggedness to her, like she had to rein in her feral side. Her keen eyes raked over us, and her lips pressed into a grim smile.
Under different circumstances, I expected she and Blaize would be good friends. They both had that wild look about them.
“Who did, then?” I crossed my arms.
She gestured for us to join her. “Sit.”
“We’re not dogs,” I said icily.
She smirked. “No, you’re not. Just bitches.”
Nice to know we made a good impression.
“My name is Sienna,” the woman said. “I’m the pack leader here.”
“I’m…”
“You’re Cassidy Irons,” she said with a nod, cutting me off. “And you’re Blaize Silver. Your reputations have preceded you.”
“Our good reputations, I hope,” I said.
The woman just smiled, not answering. Finally, she patted the table. “Now that introductions have been done, will you kindly sit with me so we can discuss the matter at hand? I assume you want your boyfriend back.”
I glanced at my cousin, who nodded in confirmation, and we slipped into the booth, me on one side watching the entrance and Blaize on the other to watch any attackers coming from that direction.
Just like old times. I would have felt better if Gracie were still here to keep an eye on the woman—the three of us would have each other’s backs.
Now it was just Blaize and me. Well, and Wolf. To be fair, he was watching the woman. I just didn’t trust him still.
I swallowed back the lump in my throat. “If you didn’t take him, who took Drake?”
Sierra regarded Blaize and me before answering. “A pack further south. Near Half Moon Bay.”
I knew of the place, a little hippy town about forty minutes south of the city. It was a popular tourist attraction, and it was a beautiful place nestled right off the Pacific Ocean. Of course werewolv
es would choose to roam there.
“But it wasn’t their fault,” Sierra insisted.
“How was it not their fault?” Blaize asked quickly.
“They’re not themselves. They’re being... controlled ...by an outside force.” I could tell from her tone that there was more to it. And that she was almost embarrassed by it.
Maybe it was mortifying for a creature as proud as a werewolf to be controlled by a fairy. But smoke and mirrors wouldn’t go very far here.
“Who’s controlling them?” I asked.
A pained expression crossed Sierra’s face, and I knew I struck a nerve. “ He is.”
“He?”
“The Winter Fairy King.”
So I had been right. I exchanged an uneasy glance with Blaize.
“I thought werewolves and fairies didn’t get along,” Blaize said carefully, clasping her hands on the table. In all honesty, I wouldn’t touch that table with ten-foot pole, but to each her own.
“We don’t, not normally,” Sierra amended quickly. “But he’s doing something to compel our kind. Something to make us go against our better judgment. Something that makes us act out.”
“So it’s not werewolves who wanted to get of Drake?” I asked. “You’re sure?”
She nodded. “We’re very familiar with the fae and while we have our differences, we’d never do anything to jeopardize our truce here.”
A truce. A similar truce had kept the fairy courts at peace for centuries. Until now.
I clenched my hands underneath the table, trying to calm my racing heart.
Sierra could be lying, leading us into a trap. After all, if Blaize and I were killed, that would be one less problem for werewolves—at least until Uncle Ronnie and the next Irons and Silver heirs came looking for payback. But looking at Sierra, I could see that there was an earnestness to her manners—almost a desperation for us to believe her. She knew what would happen if I lost Drake forever. She knew what was at stake.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “They’re in Half Moon Bay?”
Chapter Twelve
Blaize
“As much as I hate to say it, we’re going to have to take your van,” Cassidy said as we emerged from The Moon Moon. I still couldn’t believe that werewolves would call it that, but then again, I never believed that I’d be leading a werewolf around in a leash. “Sierra told us that we’re going to have to go to Purisima Creek, and I doubt any drivers will want to take us out that way. Lots of woods and mountains.”
“Makes sense,” I said. “Werewolves would set up somewhere where they could run in their shifter form.”
Cassidy looked at Wolf again as she dug her phone out of her purse. “Hopefully this guy can behave long enough for us to get to your van.”
I clipped the collar and leash back on. He accepted it stoically, though I could feel the tension thrumming through his body.
Luckily, the guy that pulled up was laid back enough to not even glance at Wolf. He chatted with Cass the entire way back to the garage where I had stowed my van.
I tried napping as much as possible, but every time I drifted off, I woke up with the painful awareness that I was in a stifling huge city. I needed to spend some more time in Dallas or Vegas or maybe even L.A.—reacclimate to hunting in a city. I was getting too comfortable, too used to my usual haunts. That could get me killed if I wasn’t careful.
“If we survive this,” Cass said as we walked into the garage, “there should be a cheaper place for your van. I think.”
“I nearly broke the machine when I saw how much an hour was here.” Cass grinned at that. “This is it,” I added, nodding to my trusty old vehicle as we neared it.
Cass gave delicate little shudder as she opened the door and got in. “This really does bother me a lot more than my apartment building.”
The van’s sturdy construction—more metal than fiberglass—was part of what I liked about it. It took a hell of a lot of work to keep it running, and it was generally a bigger pain in the ass than a newer model might be, but I felt safer sleeping in at night than I did in most hotels. Not that I stayed in hotels all that often.
“Tell me where I’m headed.”
Cass gave directions, and we drove in silence otherwise. After a minute, Cass pulled out her phone and started typing.
“Who are you texting?” I asked.
“Orin and Avery. Letting them know where we’re going.”
“Your other boyfriends? I thought they were off in fairyland.”
“Just in case they come back. Early. Miraculously.”
We lapsed into silence again. But not the kind we should have had—not the comfortable silence of family members who were falling back into our old hunting patterns. This was the silence of strangers.
I stared out the windshield and tried to think of something to say. San Francisco at night was beautiful. As we drove down 101, we crossed a short bridge—not one of the major ones, just sort of a segment of highway that passed over water. I admired the moonlight glinting off the bay. “You know,” I said, “this trip is the first time I’ve ever seen the ocean.”
It was only meant as idle conversation, but Cass looked at me as if I had dropped a tiny bomb inside the van. I guess in a sense I had.
“You’re fucking kidding me.”
I shrugged. “I hadn’t made it this far west yet.”
As we drove further down the highway, we exited for 92 and continued winding our way further west, I glanced up at the construction going on to our right. “How much steel goes into new buildings?” I asked, making note of some kind of delivery truck full of what looked like rebar.
Cassie followed my gaze as we exited the highway and went down a smaller road. “It really does vary—as long as I stay away from it until it’s actually incorporated into the building, though, I’m usually okay.” She stared out the dark window.
So much for conversation.
Fine. I could do quiet, too.
I just hoped she’d finally give me more to go on before we had to confront the beasts who’d stolen her monster of a boyfriend.
Chapter Thirteen
Cassidy
My shoes squelched in the mud as soon as I stepped out of the van and onto the small parking lot of Purisima Creek. The muddy little block could probably be called a parking lot at least—nothing was paved, but there were a few cars there.
I took another step and grimaced.
If I lived to regret anything about today, it was likely to be that I should have changed out my shoes, after all. Partly because I felt embarrassed that my ankle twisted like I was some girly-girl. And partly because they were damn expensive shoes, which only validated the first part.
That irritated me to no end, especially since I wanted to show Blaize that I could still hold my own in a fight.
“Shit,” I muttered, wobbling my way to more solid ground. The Bay Area has so many microclimates, I had forgotten that it rained further down the peninsula that week. This reserve was so dense with redwoods, the sunlight hadn’t had time to dry out the earth.
Blaize came around the front of the van, frowning down at my shoes.
“I know,” I told her, holding up my foot while some brown stuff glopped to the ground. “I didn’t think this through. So much for looking good while hunting.”
A smile ghosted on her face. “Hang on. This is one of the perks of living in a van.” She slid open the passenger door and dug around while Wolf hopped out, looking like he belonged in these woods. He flicked an ear, giving me a, well, wolfish grin, and Blaize turned around, an old, worn pair of cowboy boots in her hands.
She looked at me. “Still a size nine?”
“Eight-and-a-half,” I said, “but I can manage.”
“I’ll get you a pair of socks, too.”
“Thanks.” I tiptoed my way beside her on the lip of the open door and sat down to undo the straps of my sandals. Yep, just like I suspected. Ruined. I swallowed back the lump in my throat. I was ju
st so focused on getting Drake back, and...
“I think these are clean,” Blaize said, handing me a pair of white socks.
“Think?”
She gave an evil grin. “They’re clean ish.”
She was probably fucking with me. Right?
I decided that I didn’t want to ask more, so I quietly slipped them on and tucked my toes into the boots. There was a little bit of extra room and they were certainly worn to fit Blaize’s feet, but they’d fare better than my sandals.
When was the last time I wore a pair of boots? Way back when we were kids, I supposed. I thought my first hunt with Blaize was in cowboy boots. When I moved to the coast in my early twenties, I traded my boots for a pair of TOMS.
I stood up and nearly sobbed in relief when mud didn’t seep into them. “They’ll work, I think.”
Blaize grinned as she handed me a bag of weapons. “You look like you just came out of an L.L. Bean catalogue. Outdoorsy, even.”
“Just like old times,” I said, trying to make a joke, although that lump was back, making it hard to speak. I missed this. Missed hanging out with Blaize and Gracie. Missed hunting the bad guys and kicking ass.
I’ve gotten soft.
She chuckled. “Yep. Except I’m a better hunter than you.”
“Hey, I’m not the one hunting werewolves with a werewolf.”
Wolf snorted in response.
Blaize glanced at him, a smile pulling at the corner of her lips. “Well, we’re trying to save your fairy boyfriend when we used to hunt them.”
She slung her own pack over her shoulder and passed a heavy-duty flashlight to me. I switched it on and off, double-checking that it still worked. Wolf tried getting away from Blaize, but she cleared her throat and nodded to a sign that said that all dogs must be on a leash. I knew it was to protect the wildlife here, but I couldn’t help my grin at the thought of Wolf being considered a “dog.”
“Sorry,” she said apologetically, hooking the leash back onto his collar. “We can’t risk getting into trouble.”
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