by Hattie Hunt
“In what way?”
Leslie shook her head. “I don’t know yet. How’s your situation?”
“Fluid.” And that’s all he said.
“Fine. If we need help, I’ll ask.”
“Fine.” Dexx lifted one shoulder, then pushed off the wall. “I’ve got kid duties.”
“Thanks, Dexx.”
“No problem.”
Leslie went back to her books. “And Dexx?”
He paused, the curtain partially pulled back. “Yeah.”
“No car chases with my kids in your car.”
“You do realize that two of those kids are mine, right?”
Leslie turned on her stool. “You realize all those kids are mine, right?”
He gave her a cheeky grin and disappeared on the other side of the curtain. “Thing 1, Thing—all Things. Get in the car. Now.” The bell dinged and he was gone.
Ripley waited, her body tense. How could Leslie just pretend that everything was okay right then? Everything was not okay.
Leslie looked around the table and released a long breath. “Dexx is my brother-in-law. Well, he would be if he actually married my sister. He’s practically adopted her kids, Leah and Bobby. He’s a demon hunter, was just recently bitten, and is in charge of the Red Star Division while my sister is out chasing demons.”
Seriously? Ripley stared at the curtain where Dexx had disappeared.
“He’s a shifter?” Joe asked, his tone incredulous.
Leslie nodded.
“What kind?”
She winced a smile. “Saber-toothed cat.”
Ripley frowned at Juliet, who returned the frown with one of her own. No one had ever heard of a saber-toothed cat shifter. That could be dangerous. If some random person saw that cat, what would be all over the news? Seeing a bear was one thing. A wolf, a falcon, a horse, whatever. But the saber-toothed cat was extinct.
That’s why he felt so ancient.
“Will he rat us out?” Joe asked quietly.
“No.” Leslie set her hands on either side of the big, old book she was currently reading. “Trust me. You want him on your side.”
“And if Chuck issues the death warrant?” Brett asked.
“You give Dexx a reason to fight for you, and he will.”
“Even though he’s newly shifted and Chuck is the high alpha?” No one—and Ripley really did mean no one—had the strength of will to go against the regional high alpha. Not for long at least.
“He’s a demon hunter, which means…” Leslie shrugged. “He’s not really great with following orders in the first damned place. Tack on the fact that he’s the biggest damned cat I’ve ever seen, and, yeah. He’s not one for followin’ the rules much.”
The thing about Leslie that Ripley was discovering was that when she meant something, her accent thickened to a real sweet, comforting Southern drawl.
Joe tapped the table in front of his brother, his head down and shivered.
Had he just been imagining what their reality would be if his brother really did go rabid?
Ripley slapped the book she was looking at and straightened, feeling frustrated and stupid. “What the hell are we even looking for? And is it just me or are half of these in the wrong damned language?”
“Why can’t we just use the cure that Snow has?” Brett asked. “She’s been good enough for us for years. She’ll be fine here, too.”
“Because,” Leslie said, picking up a piece of paper and tossing it with a flick of her fingers, “these are just herbs, and if we were just dealing with a cure that could be found with herbs, the vaccine would work.”
“But—”
“You’re going to sit there and tell me—me—” Leslie said, pointing at herself, “—that a bunch of flowers are going to cure the rabies virus?”
“Then, what do you think you’re going to do?” Brett demanded, slamming his hands on the table. “Aren’t you just going to throw a bunch of ‘flowers’ together for the cure? You’re really going to tell me that chanting some words over them is going to work better?”
Leslie sat back. She tipped her head to the side, a slow, brooding anger settling over her features.
But she didn’t say a thing.
Brett snorted and stood, his stool sliding backwards. “That’s what I thought. This was a waste of time.”
Angry bear. Great. Angry rabid bear. Even better.
Juliet gasped and slapped Ripley’s arm. Repeatedly. She gaped at something just behind Brett.
Ripley hadn’t noticed. She had her attention on Brett, so she’d completely missed it.
Water from a basin on the soap-making bench rose into the air.
Catching Juliet and Ripley’s stunned faces, Brett spun and stopped, freezing.
Joe rose slowly to his feet, his mouth falling open as if in slow motion.
The water pooled together about head level and moved toward them.
No one moved. Ripley couldn’t even be sure that anyone breathed.
The water hovered in a pool above Brett’s head.
And then released, drenching him.
Ripley’s heart stopped. Leslie had made her point by making the water float. She very well could have made an enemy by dumping the water on him.
But Leslie just tipped her head to the other side, watching him like he was nothing more than a dumb, tantrum-throwing child.
Ripley leaned forward. “He’s a bear. I don’t know how much you know about them, but you probably shouldn’t piss them off.”
Leslie turned a slow smile of death on her. “I have a daughter who can throw fire balls when she’s pissed.”
Oh, shit.
“I have a son who breaks glass when he’s having a bad day and changes others’ emotions to suit his needs when he’s not getting his way.”
Juliet took a step back, her hands rising.
“I have a grandmother who sets the kitchen on fire boiling water because she’s losing her memory. I have a saber-toothed cat who’s just now learning to control his shift.”
Brett blinked, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
“I have a niece who likes to resurrect the dead when she’s bored. And my sister invited demons over for dinner because—it’s a work thing, don’t you understand?”
Ripley cleared her throat and straightened, looking around embarrassed.
Leslie folded her hands in front of her. “A bear, you say. Neat. I’ve got a can of mace.”
Ripley could get to like this woman. She leaned on her elbows and quirked her lips. “Bear mace, I hope. Anything else just tickles.”
“Homemade mace.” Leslie’s smile widened. “It ain’t gonna tickle.”
Brett turned around and fur sprouted around his shoulders. He shook with a low growl and water went everywhere.
Ripley guarded the books in front of her with her body.
Leslie just raised a hand, pausing the water drops before they had a chance to land. “I’ve got kids who are a lot worse than you, pup.”
“Cub,” Joe corrected. He slumped forward and dropped his gaze to the book, his lips pursed. He probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Hmm.” Her tone was light as she turned back to the books, the previous threat already forgotten.
Ripley would do well not to piss her off.
“But back to your question.” Leslie took in a deep breath. “For some reason,” she held up her phone and wiggled it, “the vaccine isn’t going to cure the rabies in your system.”
“You have access to the vaccine?” Ripley asked. She didn’t know much about stuff like this, but it seemed like the vaccine wouldn’t be readily available.
“I don’t ask how Barn gets things done. It’s safer that way.”
“And he’s human?”
“As far as I know.”
Ripley glanced over at Joe. He seemed to be doing better, which made her happier. She shouldn’t care. She really shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. “So, what do we do?”
“The spirit animal is
…” Leslie spread her palms out in front of her. “Just what it says it is. Spiritual. And the only way for us to get to it is through magick. Somehow this virus is going through the human host and attacking the spirit animal. The reason the vaccine doesn’t work is because his blood isn’t infected.”
“What?” Joe asked, his face screwed up in disbelief.
“That’s what I said. I don’t know. So, what we need is something the helps the body, but can also transcend along the connection between the human and the animal.”
“And how do we do that?” Ripley gestured to the books. “When these are no help.”
“Magick reveals itself in times of need.”
“Well, we need to find a cure to this. Because my padfoot says he and a whole bunch more people are going to die if we don’t.” She thumped the book to her right.
“I’m going.” Brett walked over to Juliet and tapped her shoulder. “Come on. This is a waste—” He stopped and stared at the table.
The book Ripley had just thumped was glowing along a single page.
Leslie frowned, but gestured for Ripley to open it. “You’re the one who called to it. It’ll only answer to you.”
This magick stuff was weird and stupid. Ripley pulled the heavy tome toward her. An hour ago, it had appeared to have been written in another language. It looked like German. She could speak some, but she couldn’t read a whole lot of it. Now, it was in bold English words.
Hecate’s Grimoire.
Leslie’s eyes widened when she read the title.
Ripley opened the book to the glowing page and the light dimmed. As she watched, the letters transformed into something she could understand. Ripley looked up at Leslie, not wanting to touch the book any further.
Leslie nodded and reached across the table, pulling the book toward her. Her brow furrowed as she read the revealed text.
Everyone else leaned forward, expectant.
Finally, Leslie nodded. “This could work. This could work, but I’m going to need more time.”
“Chuck’s not going to give that to you,” Ripley said. “You know that, right?”
“Let me try.” Leslie ran her fingers through her long, brown hair. “But in the meantime, hide.”
Chapter Fifteen
Juliet didn’t want to travel as a bear again, so they all piled into Tuck’s truck, Brett and Juliet laying down in the bed and Joe in the cab with Ripley.
A million questions shot around in his head, chased by a thousand answers that blurred around the edges. His entire world had been turned upside down. Ripley had come back. His brother was going to die. And he’d just seen real magick for the first time in his life.
Yeah. He was just a little in shock.
The one thing he knew for certain was that having Ripley nearby made him feel better. Not safer. Better. She wasn’t a blanket or a safety harness, but her soul soothed his. Her scent. The sound of her voice.
“Turn right,” he directed. There was a place only he knew of where they could be safe. When they’d been kids, Brett, Emma, and he had discovered this old cabin. They’d built it back up and maintained it a little. They still used it to get away from their mother when she got a little carried away or overprotective.
Ripley’s silence prickled at his nerves. She’d never been a talker, but she seemed even quieter since she’d come back. It made him uneasy.
He let her keep her quiet as he directed her out of town and up the canyon several miles before turning off. The cabin was completely invisible from the road, the two overgrown tracks of the driveway barely discernable in the undergrowth. There was no way anyone was finding them unless they wanted to be found.
Which was exactly what they needed.
Brett and Juliet went off into the woods, away from the cabin.
Joe raised his head and nodded, even though Brett had his back to him. He couldn’t imagine what Brett must be going through. He was supposed to have married the woman of his dreams the next day.
Joe and Ripley silently walked together until the cabin came into view. It looked partially carved out of the hill behind it. The three of them had tried, but hadn’t succeeded. It was rock behind the cabin. Not even the might of a bear could break through it.
Ripley’s steps slowed and then stopped.
Joe turned, quiet and waiting.
“What am I doing here, Joe?”
Her voice was so soft and her expression so lost. Wasn’t it he who was supposed to be lost? Not Ripley.
“I mean…what am I doing here?”
“You asked the same question twice.”
“I know.” She shoved her hands in her pockets, but only managed to hide her fingers. “I don’t think I belong here.”
She might not. “I want you here.” He barely heard the words falling from his mouth. “I want you here.”
“I turned him in.”
“And then tried to find a cure.”
Ripley raised her chin and then tipped her head to the side, her eyes narrowed. “Leslie kinda forced herself on me, and then she gave me her kid, and then I was stuck.”
Joe shook his head with a frown. “You want to run.” It wasn’t a question.
“I really do.”
“So do I.”
Ripley looked at the cabin, eyebrows furrowed.
Joe followed her gaze and sighed, understanding. “I can’t go in yet.”
“Me either,” she said.
“I have too much energy. I want to hunt.” He stretched his arms over his head and leaned to the side.
“I don’t want to shift.”
Joe looked at her. “You don’t get along with your padfoot.”
“No.” She narrowed her eyes at the bright sky. “But that might be because I don’t let him out enough. I don’t know. We need to learn to trust each other, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“My Aunt Myrtie said I should have been trained to keep him contained, but that the reason I had been chosen might be because I wasn’t trained.”
Joe didn’t understand.
She shook her head. “Let’s go for a walk.”
He only nodded and turned away from the cabin.
Ripley fell into pace just behind him, keeping herself at a safe distance. There were so many unsaid things between them. Her return hadn’t exactly gone as planned. But then, things in her life never did. And this sure as hell wasn’t the way she would have wanted to reunite with Joe. If she ever did. What was the saying? When life gave you lemons…
Yeah right.
They walked in silence, neither of them really sure what to even talk about. It wasn’t the comfortable silence they used to have. Though at this point, it could have just been the years since they had seen each other.
Or the fact that she had turned his brother in to be killed.
Yet, he was still there.
So was she.
What a pair they were.
“You know, Brett and Juliet didn’t get along at all in the beginning.” Joe had slowed his steps so he could walk next to Ripley, despite her efforts.
“Oh?” What was she even supposed to say to that? If he wanted to talk about his brother, she wasn’t going to stop him. But it wouldn’t have been her choice in conversation, given their impending doom.
“Thought they were going to tear each other apart the first time they shifted within ten miles of each other.”
“What changed?” She didn’t really care and didn’t really want to know.
Yes, she grumbled to herself. She did. Kind of. It would be nice to hear something good, to discover something about Brett that made him salvageable.
Except that wouldn’t make ending his life any easier.
“She saved his life.”
Ripley chuckled. That was something she could believe. “I bet Brett loved that.”
“Fumed about it for three days. He was unbearable.”
That didn’t surprise her at all. Once, when they were kids, Joe had broken a branch
off a tree they were climbing on. Ripley pushed Brett out of the way. He didn’t talk to her for a week. Something about taking care of himself because he was the oldest.
Ripley sighed and stepped off the trail they had been following. Things had been simple back then. Even without the rabies, simple didn’t qualify anymore.
They hadn’t gone far, but it was late in the afternoon when they left. At least the mist and fog didn’t seem to linger here. That wouldn’t stop it from getting darker sooner than it should. A stream trickled next to the trail, and she settled herself on a downed log against its edge. Joe sat down next to her.
“He hasn’t changed much, has he?” She dropped a fallen leaf into the water.
“Juliet has been good for him. You’d be surprised. Though the bastard still won’t let go of the fact he is seven minutes older than me.”
“Seven minutes makes a big difference,” Ripley said, failing at an attempt to mimic Brett’s voice.
They both laughed, and some of the tension eased. It felt good to laugh.
Joe stared at her as if seeing her differently. Her defenses rose, wanting to push him away again.
Would that be so bad? To have him love her again? They were two different people now, but their connection had been deep.
Not deep enough for her to stay.
“She seemed nice.” Ripley wanted to say something to put a distance between them, but every cell in her body urged her to get closer to him. “At least, she didn’t seem to hate me. So that’s something.”
“No one can hate you, Ripley.”
She snorted, and tore the leaf she was holding in half. “Should I make a list?”
Joe grimaced, and the conversation died. He picked at the bark on a branch sticking up next to him, flicking little pieces into the stream.
Wow. She could almost see him mentally kicking himself. And why did that make her feel like a complete ass? “How has Emma been?”
“Meddling,” Joe said with a half-smile. “She’s the one who told me you were back.”
Don’t talk about the younger sister if the idea is to steer the conversation away from them. Check. “I can’t believe Toot has a kid.”
Joe smiled. “And a baby mama. They spend more time yelling at each other than talking. Though, I am pretty sure he loves her. Despite what he says. He’s been putting in a lot of hours at the bar since Jib passed. Don’t know how he does it.”