by Wendy Owens
“When did you know?” I demand.
“Know what?” he says, shaking his head.
“Know that the psychotic bitch you all call queen wanted me to be a part of genocide.”
“She told you?” he whispers.
I shove him in the shoulder as hard as I can. “Yeah, she pretty much ordered me.”
“Genocide? What in the heck is going on?” Piper gasps.
“Super soldier here is supposed to tag along with us and kill any of the humans who’ve been turned into a wolf over the last two weeks,” I spit the words out in response.
“What?” Piper’s confusion is swallowing her whole.
“Do you think I like this?” he says, raising his voice.
“I don’t know, you’re the Bimtok, so maybe you get off on stuff like this.” I can feel the heat pulsing from my hands.
“Tynder,” I hear Piper say behind me.
I turn and wave my palm in her face. I’m not done with him. “Is that it, Mr. Nash? Does killing a bunch of innocent and unsuspecting humans get you off?”
“Tynder, your hands,” Piper’s pleading with me now.
I look down, and both my hands are ablaze. There’s no pain, and the flames do not consume me. I stare in disbelief. “What the hell?” I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them back up. The flame strength never wavers.
“It’s your Phoenix abilities. Is this the first time this has happened?” Nash asks.
“Yeah,” I answer, unable to look away, temporarily distracted from my contempt for him.
“Are you sure?” he asks again.
“Yeah, Sherlock, I think I would have noticed if my hands caught on fire before,” I snap, shaking them wildly, trying to extinguish the flames.
“Okay … Okay, all you need to do is take a deep breath and try to calm down,” he instructs.
“Calm down? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but my hands are on freaking fire!”
Piper moves around, making eye contact with me. “No, he’s right. It’s from losing your temper. At this point, your abilities are more of a reflex. Look at me.”
“What?” I’m panicked.
“Tynder!” Piper shouts. My eyes dart to her. “Breathe deep. Again. Again...”
Her voice, even though she’s beyond freaking out, is calming. It soothes me because it’s familiar. My eyes lock onto her, trying my best not to look at the flames rolling over my fingertips. My chest heaves in and out, in and out. She smiles at me. I glance down; my hands are completely normal, no evidence of the fire that had been there only moments ago.
“Thank you,” my voice cracks as I throw my arms around my friend’s neck.
“Jesus, Tynder. You really should let me train you. What if Piper and I hadn’t been with you?” Nash questions.
With one firm finger, I turn and face him, poking it repeatedly into his hard shoulder, pretending it doesn’t hurt me as I do so. “First off, Piper’s always with me. Second, don’t think we’re done. Rather than bursting into a fireball, we’ll table this conversation for another time.”
Piper’s eyes are fixed on me. “You okay?”
I’m a bit rattled after going up like a roman candle, but won’t give Nash the satisfaction of knowing this. I force a smile to Piper, “Sometimes it feels like we’re in an episode of Supernatural.”
“Of what?” Piper inquires, a confused look on her face.
“You’re kidding, right?” I gasp recalling the television show Desmond used to binge on. “The television show?”
“Nobody watches those things anymore,” she giggles.
“Don’t knock it until you try it. They made thirty-six seasons of it like a hundred years ago and let me tell you; they weren’t too far off on a lot of these things.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” Piper replies with a small smile, humoring me.
“I’m serious,” I insist. “If we ever get a break from this caseload we’re binging on it.”
I turn and head to the portal room, my heart still racing, Piper and Nash following close behind me in silence.
Seven
The Amazing Ant-Boy
Nash sits in a chair across from me in front of the fireplace in my apartment. I can feel his eyes on me, and I know he wants to say something. I want to curse him out one moment, and then rip off his clothes the next. He’s gorgeous, and sometimes he seems like he could be the most thoughtful man in the world. At the same time, he’s strong and primitive. He isn’t afraid to show his raw strength; it’s part of who he is.
It’s obvious by the way he looks at me that he notices the heat between us, despite my best efforts to convince him otherwise. But no matter how sexy he is, I don’t dare let my imagination linger on the idea of us too long. I won’t say I am the most morally upstanding citizen, but even I have lines I don’t cross. I can’t be with a murderer. They can call a Bimtok an executioner and give him a license to carry out judgment on the guilty, but it isn’t justice. What the queen is proposing is wrong—just as wrong as the man behind creating the human army of Lycans.
My mind shifts to the queen’s other request. Once I confirm who is behind the army, they are not to be arrested. They are to be brought directly to her. It’s clear there’s something much larger going on here than just some rogue werewolves. She can feel the same thing I do. There’s a larger plot, and the queen is at the center of it, or should I say her throat is.
Lord Ardack seems the most obvious suspect, but what if the real culprit behind these transformations and killings just wants me to see things that way? I think about the tall, slender man I saw at the club. Who was he? Peter has to know more about him. Where did Peter go?
I sniff the scotch in my glass, shaking the cubes of ice gently from side to side, staring into the amber liquid. One of the many perks of being a Royal Magistrate is that any of my requests, as long as it is in the line of duty, of course, will be fulfilled, no questions asked. One of my first requests was a case of Balvenie Thirty. I take a drink like I’m sipping away the dark thoughts, stashing them deep inside my belly. But I know, no matter how much or how fast I drink, I can’t outrun them, but I’ll never stop trying.
Piper enters the room; I can hear the sound of her feet as she paces.
“Any word on our friend?” I ask about Peter. She has been running through her phone list, searching for anyone who might have seen him.
“No,” she huffs. “And I’m getting really worried. Nobody has seen him since we got separated last night.”
“Hmm … that seems convenient,” I remark. Nash is sitting quietly and still, watching us.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks pointedly.
“Nothing,” I answer lightly, not looking for another fight with the fiery little redhead. “Just seems odd.”
“So you think something is wrong, too? Do you think he’s been kidnapped?” she asks, rushing over to my side, stepping over my legs that are propped on top of the coffee table before taking a seat next to me on the couch.
I wait to answer, taking another sip of the delicious amber in my glass. “I didn’t say that.”
She gets that crinkle in her nose that she always gets when she is confused. “What do you mean then?”
“She means she doesn’t trust your guy,” Nash offers.
“Nobody asked you!” I snap.
Piper’s eyes widen as she looks back at me. “You can’t actually think he’s a part of this.”
I shake my head. “No, of course not. I’m just saying, it’s odd the kid knew exactly where this den of rogue wolves hangs out, don’t you think?”
“So you are saying he’s in on it?” she cries, hopping to her feet.
“Calm down, all I’m saying is his behavior leaves me with some questions. It seems convenient he’s not here for me to ask them.” I can’t believe she is so blind when it comes to Peter.
“Seriously? Why on earth would he ever have led us there in the first place if he were involved?”
<
br /> “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because we were getting too close? You know, I’m not sure if you remember, but we were attacked,” I remind her.
“Because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.” She’s pacing now. “I mean really, Tynder? Who in their right mind sees a pack of ravenous Lycans and screams at them?”
“Excuse me if I can’t just stand by and watch while those things were shredding people.”
“Yeah, you’re a real saint,” Piper huffs as she crosses her arms. “I can’t believe you would think that Peter could have anything to do with this. He was the one who didn’t want you to jump down into the blood bath. He dragged your butt out of there. Did you even thank him? No, instead you’d rather just sit here drinking and accusing him while he’s out there with God knows who, having God knows what done to him.”
“Okay, calm down,” I say, leaning forward and placing my glass on the coffee table. I stand and walk over to my friend, attempting to ease her panic and anger with a hand to the shoulder. “You’re right. It doesn’t add up. He did try to get us out of there. But if nobody has heard from him, I’m not sure how we’re supposed to find him.”
“A Seeker,” I hear Nash say in a low voice.
“We’ve got this, thanks,” I growl. I’ve asked him to leave several times since following us to my apartment, but he refuses.
“Oh, my God. That’s it,” Piper agrees excitedly.
“What is?” I ask.
“I still have Pooh!” Piper exclaims, rushing over to her desk and pulling out the small box she had originally arrived with.
“Umm, I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but that sounds like a personal problem.” I snicker, looking back and forth between Piper and Nash, but I apparently seem to be the only one to have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old boy.
She flips off the battered cardboard lid of the box and rummages through the contents, at last pulling out a small, tattered and faded Winnie the Pooh doll.
I shake my head. “Okay, I give up. What does this have to do with catching a werewolf?”
“If a Seeker has an item that was important to the person you are looking for, they can project the vision of the one you are trying to find,” she explains.
“Huh?” I shrug.
“We’ll see what Peter sees,” she dumbs it down for me.
“And Pooh there is important to Peter…how?” I ask, not completely following what Pooh has to do with Peter.
“It was his first stuffed animal, and he gave it to me while we were dating,” she answers.
“And you held onto it all these years?” I frown. “Yeah, you’re clearly not still carrying a torch for him.”
“Some of us think with our heart and not what’s between our legs,” Piper says, wasting no time sliding on her jacket and shoving the six-inch toy from memory lane into her pocket.
My eyes dart to Nash. I can feel my face burning red. He smirks for only a moment, and I can’t resist thinking what those lips would feel like against mine. He’s a barbarian, a killer, and the last thing I need in my personal life, but damn it if he isn't the most chivalrous man I’ve ever met. Why is that so attractive? Well, I suppose it’s better he learns now I’m a slut—or was a slut—oh, who knows, once a slut always a…
“Where are we headed?” I ask, wanting Nash’s eyes to be anywhere but on my face.
“The only place a Seeker doesn’t have to register each vision. The Netherworld,” Piper answers.
“You know, every single time you say Netherworld, it still sounds ominous,” I add, following her out the door. Nash wastes no time and runs after us.
She shrugs. “It’s what it’s called.”
“I’m just saying,” I start. “A more appropriate name for where the Nethers live would have been, oh I don’t know, Fae Shantytown.”
“Can this not turn into a discussion of how unfairly Nethers are treated again?” Piper grumbles.
“Fine, but you know I’m right.” I purse my lips and lift my brows.
There’s a knock at the door, and I suddenly remember what night it is. “What time is it?”
“Why?” Nash interjects as Piper moves towards the door.
“Just someone tell me what time it is,” I hiss.
“A quarter till seven,” Piper answers over her shoulder as she answers the door, opening it to reveal a delivery man. She signs for the package he’s holding, but I already know what’s inside. My date with Trunkwater isn’t until nine o’clock. I should be able to go to the Seeker and still get back in time. At least I hope I can.
Piper turns, eyeing the package carefully. The box is large and black with a red ribbon securing it shut. Her fingers find a tag just as I snatch the package from her hands.
“Hey, what are y—” she says trying to keep the package in her hands.
“It’s for me,” I assure her, quickly tossing the box onto the couch. Leave it to Trunkwater to make the package look so mysterious.
“How do you know it’s for you?” Piper asks.
“I was—I—I was expecting it,” I stammer, shifting uncomfortably and moving to stand directly in front of the package. Somehow I felt if they quit staring at it they would forget it’s there.
“We should probably get going,” I suggest.
“Why don’t you want us to know what’s inside the package?” Nash ask, honing in with little effort on my discomfort.
“Is that from him?” Piper asks. I silence her with my eyes. She stiffens, and then frowns at me.
“Him who?” Nash says in a demanding voice.
“None of your business,” I snap.
“I—” he starts before I cut him off.
“You’re here to kill things, not ask me questions about my business. Now let's go. Every second we waste we could be putting Peter into further danger.” Okay, so playing the Peter card is a low blow, but I know if there’s anything that will get Piper’s mind off that black box and on getting out of here it’s her feelings for Peter.
“She’s right,” Piper agrees, right on cue. “We should go.”
The train rumbling overhead causes my heart to shake in my chest cavity. Looking in from the outside, this appears to be a fenced-off underpass full of junk. But with Piper’s help, she removes the cloaking spell, and we see the entrance to The Netherworld.
Stepping through the cut opening in the fence, I feel Nash grab my arm. “Don’t get lost … I don’t trust this place.”
“Oh really? Well, maybe you should just kill them all.”
“Tynder, come on, give me—” he begins.
Narrowing my gaze, I interrupt him. “I don’t have to give you anything.” I jerk my arm away and keep moving, so that when I stop, I’m standing next to Piper. She says a handful of words that I can’t understand to a man who I can only best describe looks like an anteater. A moment later the man is leading us with sloth-like movements through an opening. The area goes on forever, and I wonder how humans haven’t ever accidentally stumbled onto this place.
Piper looks over her shoulder, motioning toward us. “He said the Seeker is this way.”
“Just because Queen Boru orders me to do something doesn’t mean I’m going to,” Nash tries to whisper, but we both know everyone can hear him.
“Oh really? And how many times have you disobeyed her before?” I question.
“That’s not fair,” he protests.
“No, what’s not fair is being killed for something you can’t help. I can see why Joe never wanted me to know about this world. You guys have a twisted and screwed-up sense of justice.”
Nash grabs my shoulder, bringing me to a sudden stop. “Will you just listen to me?”
Every hair on my neck stands up, and my palms begin to sweat. It feels like my feet may burst into flames. The same haunting feeling I had in Ardack’s office surrounds me. It’s like I can sense those same dark eyes on me. The ones from my nightmare. I bite down hard on the inside of my mouth, trying to bring myself back to realit
y.
“Are you even hearing me?” Nash growls.
“Is this the place for this?” I huff, trying not to reveal the fact that I am pretty sure I am going mad.
“You won’t talk to me anywhere else, so here seems as good a place as any.” He doesn’t release me.
“We’re going to fall behind, let me go,” I warn.
“Then we’ll catch up. If you’re asking if I will put down a wild animal that’s shredding through humans? Without hesitation!”
“My problem isn’t about you taking out the killer. Hell, I think it’s bull to take out the guy behind all this without a fair trial, but whatever, she’s the Queen.”
“You're right! She is.”
I look around and confirm we’re now alone. “What I can’t understand is what kind of man could kill an entire lot of people merely because they’ve been bitten by a Lycan? So they’re shifters, it doesn’t mean they’re all killers. They can’t all be mongrels, and it’s not right to kill them just because they can shift anytime they want.” Oh, and by the way, I keep feeling like the boogeyman from my dreams is watching me. I decide to leave that last part out.
“I know, but I never said I’d become the queen’s wrecking ball for the Shifters. Jesus, have a little faith in me.”
“I—” I start, but I find myself dumbfounded. “But the queen—”
“I know,” he continues. “I haven’t figured that part out yet. Okay?”
“Are you two coming or what?” Piper yells from down the corridor, waiting ahead with her hand impatiently perched on her hip.
“Come on,” Nash says, moving past me. “We better catch up. We can talk about this later if you’ll at least acknowledge me now.”
I nod. I want to say a million things, but I can’t formulate a single clear thought. Chaos streams through my mind. Could it be that Nash isn't the mindless killer I thought he was? Is it possible that Fae law isn't black and white to more than just me? I quicken my pace to catch up with Piper, who has just passed through a set of tattered burgundy curtains. Nash and I bump into her back as we enter the small, cave-like room that smells of hay and farm animals. He was right; we would have to talk about this later. And maybe I would have to give one of those rare apologies.