Deadlock: Southern Arcana, Book 3

by Moira Rogers

  “Maybe not all of it.” He nuzzled her cheek, working his way down until his teeth closed lightly on the line of her jaw. “In a week or two this magic should settle down, if we’re lucky. Or Jackson will find a way to break it sooner.”

  “You make it sound so simple.”

  “It’s not our first crisis. Don’t think it’ll be our last, either.”

  “It’s mine.” Her life hadn’t been easy, but most of the pain she’d had to deal with had been emotional. “Nothing about my family has ever made me feel endangered before.”

  His body went tense beside hers, the fingers at her hip digging in for a heartbeat before his hand relaxed. “I’m sorry. I remember what it feels like the first time.”

  Pain accompanied the words, an agony that almost sickened her. Her first thought was to shut it out, but that would mean shutting Alec out, and she couldn’t. So she took a deep, shaky breath and watched his face. “What did they do?”

  He rolled away from her, landing on his back with his hand still above her head. His fingers curled around hers, an almost compulsive, instinctive movement, and that pain tightened, turned to a free fall of loss. “My cousin killed my wife. Because she was human.”

  There was nothing to say, no questions to ask. Prejudice had cost his wife her life, and Alec had been left to deal with an aftermath full of pain and emptiness. That wouldn’t change now, no matter how hard anyone wished.

  Nothing to say.

  Carmen squeezed his hand. “Tell me about her.”

  “Her name was Heidi.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Remember how I said my friend Karl fell in love with a cowgirl from South Dakota?”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, the cowgirl was on a date with me when that happened. The worst first date in the history of men and women, and Karl stole her out from under my nose. Guess she felt guilty, because a few months later she introduced me to one of her friends from college. An art major who liked to make sculptures with a blowtorch.”

  He already looked lighter somehow, less bowed by guilt. “She sounds like a badass.”

  It made him laugh a little. “Only if you pissed her off while she was holding the blowtorch.” His smile faded. “She made it easy to walk away from the supernatural world. To just forget it was there.”

  Except it always was for someone like him, no matter what, and his renewed guilt proved he knew that. “I’m learning now that you can’t walk away from something that’s part of you.”

  “No, you can’t. You can hide from it for a while. You can tell it to fuck off…” His thumb stroked her wrist. “It’s in my blood. It’s in your blood. Maybe I just hate thinking that me and Heidi might not have lasted. Feels too much like saying I didn’t love her enough.”

  “You tried,” she said firmly, “and you were happy, right? Beyond that, who knows what would have happened?”

  “No one, I guess. No one ever will.” His arm looped around her, as if he needed the comfort of her touch. “My cousin never gave her the chance to walk away from me. He thought I should thank him for that.”

  It was barbaric. Unfathomable. She wanted to scream at the injustice of it, but all she could do was stroke her fingers over his skin. I’m sorry. It wasn’t enough, but she murmured the words anyway.

  Alec’s voice dropped to a rough whisper. “It was a while ago. My cousin went to ground afterwards—even my family couldn’t condone what he’d done. He was a member of a pretty radical group. They thought changed wolves were making us weak, that no shapeshifter should have the right to squander our precious blood on anyone who wasn’t born to the gift. Humans were a thousand times worse.”

  “I understand.” Hadn’t Cesar demanded that Carmen’s father abandon her mother for the crime of being a psychic, a human? And what might he have done if Diego had refused?

  “The supernatural world is fucked up. All we can do down here is… I don’t even know. Pick up the pieces?”

  “I think so.” She was living proof that avoidance only worked for so long, and it certainly never changed anything. “Did you find him? Your cousin?”

  “Yeah. With Jackson’s help.” She felt his subtle withdrawal, though his fingers stayed on hers. “I found him, and all the people who’d encouraged him. Who’d been terrorizing other people. And when it was over, I was that crazy bastard no one wanted to piss off.”

  Carmen reluctantly slipped her shields back into place, sat up and leaned over him. “And that’s why everyone but Kat tiptoes around you.”

  “That’s why.” The corner of his mouth kicked up in a tiny, morbid smile. “Plus all the crazy things I’ve done since.”

  “Crazy things?” The urge to kiss him again almost overwhelmed her, so she climbed to her feet and held out her hand. “Surely tackling women and kissing them stupid qualifies, so I won’t argue.”

  He accepted her hand, but rocked to his feet with effortless grace without her help. “Nah, that’s on the tame side. Last year I kidnapped a Conclave member’s kid in someone else’s truck.”

  Carmen laughed helplessly. “Somehow, the fact that it was someone else’s vehicle makes it sound crazier.”

  “He wasn’t thrilled at the time either, as I remember.”

  “The owner of said truck, or the person you kidnapped?”

  “Neither, I guess.”

  “Uh-huh.” She hadn’t released his hand, and now she tugged him toward the path. “Let’s go have a beer.”

  “In a second.” He pulled her back and turned her, raising both hands to her shoulders. “You seem steadier today, so I want to try something tonight, after dinner. I want to try to guide you through the change.”

  “I told you—I don’t feel that different.”

  “Then nothing will happen.” A hint of sadness wreathed the words, perhaps explained by those that followed. “And then you can go home. Get back to your life.”

  She would never be the same, even if the magic he spoke of came to nothing. Not after the way he’d kissed her. “I don’t live on another planet, Alec.”

  He shrugged and turned back to the path. “I do. A planet where angry shapeshifters kick my doors off their hinges and people need kidnapping and saving and killing. There’s always something.”

  In other words, there was no room for her. Unsurprising—and understandable.

  And it didn’t matter anyway. It might have been one unforgettable kiss, but his busy, dangerous existence was far from the only reason getting involved with him would be a bad idea. He was inextricably tangled up in the fringes of a world she’d avoided her whole life.

  Bad, bad idea.

  Carmen caught up with him and slid her hand back into his. “There’s always something—later. Right now, I want that beer.”

  She had a day, two at the most, and she wouldn’t waste them.

  Jackson had called him five times.

  The text on his cell phone’s screen indicated he had four new voicemails, and he’d bet all of them had come from his partner as well. With Carmen happily occupied putting away the groceries he’d had delivered, Alec felt safe enough stepping out on the back porch. Easier than staying in the kitchen with her smiles and her scent and her friendly chatter twisting him up into a confused wreck.

  Fucking women was safe. Liking their company was asking for trouble.

  He didn’t bother to listen to any of the messages, opting instead to call Jackson back. There was no way the man didn’t plan to yell at him, and he only had patience for one tedious lecture.

  Jackson answered the phone with a short, particularly foul curse. “Okay, where the hell have you been?”

  “Running.” Mostly the truth, and Jackson wouldn’t be able to tell either way. “She needed to burn off some energy.”

  “Her brother’s been here, bitching because he showed up the other morning to quite the domestic-looking little scene.”

  The kid should be thanking any God he prayed to that it’d been domestic and not pornographic. “We’re getti
ng along decent enough. Nothing crazy’s happened.”

  “Yeah, I told him you’d take care of her. No funny business.”

  “That a statement or a question?”

  After a moment of uneasy silence, Jackson cleared his throat. “Is there something I need to know?”

  Damn it. His own defensiveness had turned a statement into a question. “If she was stuck here for a few more days, maybe. But if I can’t walk her through a change tonight, then I’m sending her back home. Franklin’s practically shacking up with her roommate. He’ll be on hand if anything happens, but I’m starting to think it won’t.”

  “The longer it takes, the less likely it is to happen,” his partner admitted. “Julio says there’s no news on the whys-and-wherefores front. You gonna shuffle her off on Franklin and help him out? He tries, but come on. The kid’s a firefighter. He doesn’t think like a cop.”

  Long association with Jackson made it easy to follow the path of his thoughts. A cop might have found Alec’s lack of subterfuge reassuring…but Julio Mendoza wasn’t human. And Jackson didn’t think like a shifter. “Wolves aren’t so great at hiding that sort of thing. Especially if someone’s charging into our territory and questioning our right to have someone. The only way I’m going to convince Mendoza that I’m not the latest big bad wolf come to gobble his sister up is to get her the hell out of my house.”

  “Then you’re right, you need to do just that. We can’t get down to real business with you stuck babysitting.”

  “Yeah.” He was right. Getting Carmen away from him was the only thing that would give him the focus to find out what had happened to her.

  Too bad it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Still, couldn’t hurt to stay in touch after she goes home. Make sure everything’s all right. You can handle that, right?” Jackson’s voice sounded studiously casual.

  Meddling bastard. “Since when do you encourage me to stick my nose in other people’s business?”

  He could almost hear Jackson’s shrug. “You’ve taken responsibility for her so far. May as well see it through.”

  “I take responsibility for everyone. And I always see it through. So butt the hell—”

  Magic exploded.

  The phone slipped from Alec’s fingers as he staggered under the wave of sheer, undiluted power. It was so overwhelming that he couldn’t even pinpoint a source, not until Carmen’s voice rose in a scream of protest from the front yard.

  He faintly heard Jackson’s frantic voice spilling out of the speaker on his phone, but instinct moved his feet before he could stop to think. One hand landed on the railing of his porch and he vaulted it, four feet up and then ten down, enough that he gave into momentum and rolled before springing to his feet again.

  Then he ran.

  It was the witch. She stood in the yard, chanting, as one of the men from the house in Algiers lifted Carmen off her feet.

  The rhythmic chanting paused as the witch turned her head. “Drop the girl. Deal with the shifter.”

  Carmen hit the driveway, and the burly man rushed him.

  In the second before the huge body crashed into his, Alec caught the scent of blood in the air, distracting enough that he hit the ground, the muscle-bound shifter on top of him.

  The man drew back a fist and drove it into Alec’s jaw. Pain splintered the world into overlapping fragments, but at least it drew his attention back to the fight. Alec shook off the blow and used a move he’d seen Zola pull more than once to get a larger opponent off of her. A feint to the left, as if trying to throw the man off him, then a lightning-fast change in direction the second the bulky man started to pull right.

  They rolled together and Alec got a knee in the shifter’s gut and smashed his fist into his face. Bone shattered and a hoarse yelp of pain split the air, but it wasn’t loud enough to cover Carmen’s agonized moan as magic lashed through the still evening.

  The man cursed over the sound of metal clearing a leather holster. Nickel plating glinted in the fading evening light as he lifted a pistol to Alec’s head.

  No time to be flashy. Alec swung a fist and knocked the hand and gun to the side, then smacked it again, sending the weapon flying.

  A meaty hand slammed into his face, a strong thumb digging hard into one eye. Alec choked on a curse and reared back, barely keeping the man from gouging out his eye, but he couldn’t escape the painful pressure. The shifter huffed out a short, triumphant laugh, only to draw up short as a gunshot rang out.

  The man let go to press his hand to a rapidly welling spot of blood on his shoulder. Alec rolled him, taking advantage of his opponent’s pain and distraction to wrench his head and snap his neck. The man went limp, and Alec came to his knees in time to see Carmen, the shifter’s gun held easily in both hands.

  In that moment, she was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

  “Alec.” Carmen’s hand shook, and her relieved expression turned to one of horror as her arm moved, jerkily at first and then more smoothly. Her fingers twitched as if she wanted to drop the gun but couldn’t, and she raised her hand, lifting the barrel to her temple.

  Alec froze, both hands held out at his side. He didn’t dare move, not even to turn his head and face the witch head on. “What do you want?”

  “To finish my job.” The witch’s voice held a gentle, almost cajoling edge. “Ten minutes, and everything will be done.”

  “Everything what? What are you trying to do?”

  The woman snorted, and the beads in her hair clicked as she shook her head. “If you don’t understand, you shouldn’t interfere.”

  His wolf battered against his self-control, frantic to break free and eliminate the threat. Alec choked it back hard. “No one’s interfering.”

  “I am,” Carmen said angrily. Her trembling ceased as she rose and took a step back. “I’m saying no. No more magic, no more spells. I’d rather pull the trigger.”

  His heart damn near stopped in his chest. “Carmen—”

  The witch spoke over him, her dark eyes narrowing in her pale face. “You’re bluffing.”

  “Am I?”

  For an eternity, the two women stared at each other. Finally, the older woman whispered something and magic snapped through the air. The gun flew out of Carmen’s hand, and the witch turned to Alec, one hand raised as she whispered an incantation.

  An incantation she’d never finish. Adrenaline gave him speed. The need to shake Carmen until she promised never to bluff again—and dear God, she had better have been bluffing—gave him a vicious edge.

  Alec crossed the space between them before the woman got three words out. On the fourth he pounced, flying through the air separating them.

  She never got out the fifth word. She threw up both hands and Alec knocked them aside and caught his fingers in her braids. His palm slammed into her chin. One twist, one snap, and she hit the ground in a lifeless heap.

  Carmen sucked in a harsh breath and fell to her knees. For a moment, everything was silent. Still.

  Then she screamed.

  Alec’s heart tried to climb into his throat. He scrambled to his knees and lurched to his feet, covering the space between them in a few ragged steps. He hit the grass and skidded toward her. “Carmen, Carmen, it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay—”

  Her hands clenched, fingers digging into the grass. She growled and lifted her head, her entire body trembling and wary.

  Wild. She was wild. His instincts said feral, and he kept his body rigid. Ready to stop her from hurting herself. “Take a breath,” he coaxed. “You’re okay.”

  She growled again, part question and part warning, and moved closer. One hand hovered near his chest, and she pressed her cheek close to his and inhaled sharply.

  Carmen turned her head and bit his jaw.

  Lust burned through him, wiping away everything human and leaving the wolf in its wake, hungry and curious. Alec’s hands swept up her back before he could stop them, curling in her hair so he could guide her
head back.

  He was supposed to guide her head back. He just couldn’t remember why.

  She released him, only to brush her lips and tongue soothingly over his skin. Her hand flattened against his chest, slid down past his stomach.

  Alec caught her wrist when her fingers reached his fly. “Oh, no you don’t, lady. This is not you.”

  She didn’t snap or snarl. Instead, she made a soft, coaxing noise and nuzzled his ear.

  Christ. If he let go of her hand she’d find his dick rock-hard and willing, but the rest of him couldn’t be. Not with her clearly out of her mind and a body on the ground.

  Two bodies. Christ. “Carmen.”

  She went rigid and jerked her hand free of his. Her eyes narrowed in confusion, and she rocked back, moving away from him slowly.

  If she bolted, he’d have to chase her down. He only had so much self-control. He held out a hand, stopping just short of touching her arm. “Honey, let’s go inside—”

  Carmen slapped at his hand and scrambled out of reach. She opened her mouth as if to speak—then turned and sprang into a dead run.

  He chased her because he had to. Because she was beautiful and wild, because she was hurting and he had to make it stop.

  Magic must have been at work, because she was damn fast. She nearly hit the tree line before Alec caught her around the waist, dragging her body back against his chest. “Be still.”

  She fought, her nails digging painful furrows into his arm, and she kicked. One blow bounced her heel off his shin and his knee, and she threw back her head and howled with rage and pain.

  It shredded his heart, but he couldn’t let her go. So he kept his arm locked around her body and summoned all the power inside him, setting it loose in a soothing rush that should have dropped her to the ground in a submissive heap.

  She whimpered and fell still. He could taste her fear and confusion, but she didn’t struggle anymore.

  “That’s it.” Keeping up the press of power would drain the hell out of him, but he had a sinking feeling she’d start struggling the second he stopped. “I’m gonna pick you up, sweetheart, and get you inside. Then we’ll make you feel better.”