Warmongers and Wands

by Dunbar, Debra

  Did I mention she’d once set her ex-boyfriend’s pants on fire? In the middle of the courthouse? Yeah. Don’t piss off my sister.

  That’s what Stanley was bargaining for. Being a lone wolf wasn’t all sunshine and roses, though. I knew Shelby. I hung out with her and Alberta sometimes. The werewolf was depressed, missing her pack. As far as they were concerned, she wasn’t even a werewolf. They completely ignored her. No werewolf was allowed to speak to her or acknowledge her presence. She’d been shunned, and that had been a hard price to pay for love.

  It made me realize how much Stanley was risking to talk to us. Death, or shunning. Either one horrible.

  “We’ll protect you, Stanley,” I told him, hoping it didn’t come to that. Although maybe if he got shunned, Shelby would finally have a werewolf to hang with. I mean, she’d hated Stanley before, but surely he’d be better than nothing at all?

  He nodded and clasped his hands in front of him. “It’s not Dallas, it’s Clinton. Although Clinton will deny it and say it’s some rogue in his group operating without his knowledge or consent. Some poor wolf will lose his life if it comes to that, and Clinton will insist justice was done.”

  “What the hell is he talking about?” Hadur asked as he handed me a cup of tea.

  “I think he’s saying Clinton had my truck tampered with in an attempt to kill me, right?” I took a sip of my tea and regarded the werewolf. The fact that Stanley knew this meant he was some sort of werewolf double agent—living with Dallas’ pack, but obviously in the know and facilitating things with Clinton’s. The werewolf had more guts than I’d thought.

  Stanley nodded. “Clinton didn’t expect you to die. He just wanted you to wreck. You’d find out your brakes had been cut and figure one of Dallas’ wolves had done it. Then your sister would go up there and rip Dallas’ spine out his ass.”

  I winced at the visual. “So, Clinton was setting it up to look like Dallas tried to have me killed?”

  “Yeah, but it didn’t work. It took you too long to fix the butchering equipment up at the compound. With the storm and the rockslide, you went over the hill. We figured you were dead, that when your sister eventually found you, she’d just assume it was an accident.”

  “And none of the blame would have gone to Dallas,” Hadur finished.

  “So, wait,” I interrupted. “Clinton was happy to just let my body lay there in a wrecked truck for days until Cassie found it? Seriously?”

  Stanley looked down at the floor. “If he’d reported the wreck, it would have looked suspicious. This part of the mountain isn’t where he and the splinter group of wolves have laid claim to. He’d have no reason to be over here. And the way your truck went down, you can’t see it from the road. So Clinton couldn’t report it without looking suspicious, and Dallas didn’t even know. Dallas just figured a rockslide took out some of the road and had us clear it. He never checked down the hill.”

  I scowled, very unhappy that Stanley hadn’t found some way of alerting the pack that I was down here. Or sending an anonymous tip to one of my sisters or something.

  “Then why did you come last time?” Hadur growled, taking a menacing step toward the werewolf. “You told us Dallas sent you to get Bronwyn.”

  Stanley cringed. “He did send me. He got your message and sent me down to bring Bronwyn to the compound. That way he could deliver her to Cassandra, make like he’d rescued her and cared for her. And then Cassandra would be grateful and get off his back. Instead you refused to turn her over, then Cassandra came up to the compound and read Dallas the riot act, threatening to kill him if her sister has so much as a broken finger nail. I’m lucky he didn’t kill me over that.”

  I suddenly realized where all this was going. “Dallas has a spy in his compound—a spy besides you, that is. And that spy went to Clinton and told him about Cassie’s threats.”

  Stanley nodded. “And Clinton’s got a second chance to make his plan work. All he needs to do is attack you, make it look like Dallas did it, then he’ll be pack alpha over all of Heartbreak Mountain while Dallas is rotting in a grave somewhere.”

  “This Clinton plans to kill Bronwyn?” Hadur’s voice was low and quiet. Stanley shivered and arched his back, hunching low.

  “It doesn’t matter whether she lives or dies,” Stanley told him. “If she’s attacked and hurt, then she’ll tell her sister it was the werewolves and Cassandra will go straight to Dallas. If she’s killed, then Cassandra will find out and know who to blame.”

  I sucked in a breath. “When is this attack supposed to occur, Stanley?”

  The werewolf glanced up at me, clearly miserable. “Tonight. Probably around midnight because that’s always the best time for an attack.”

  Werewolves. So predictable. “What’s going to happen?” I asked.

  “About a dozen wolves are supposed to hit hard and fast and draw the big guy away. Then another three are supposed to come in the other side, into the cabin to rough you up. Everyone is supposed to be in and out in less than twenty minutes. Hit hard and fast, then get the hell out before anyone gets killed. And if a wolf goes down, they have orders to haul him out, even if it’s a body.”

  “Leave no proof behind that it’s Clinton’s wolves and not Dallas’,” I commented.

  “I need to get back.” Stanley edged backward toward the door. “They’ll already scent that I was here. Clinton’s gonna know I warned you. Dallas is gonna wonder what I’m doing down here. I’m screwed. I’m so screwed.”

  “I think you need to spend the night in town,” I told him. “Grab some buddies, head to Pistol Pete’s or the Tavern, then get a room at Hollister’s Inn or sleep on someone’s couch.”

  He shot Hadur a quick glance to make sure the demon was in agreement with that, then quickly made his exit. I finished my tea, then tried to think.

  This sucked. I couldn’t leave. Even if I managed to get a message to Ophelia and she somehow arranged to have me airlifted out of here before nightfall, I couldn’t leave Hadur here to handle this by himself. What should I do? I glanced over at the demon, wondering if I could get a message to Cassie, get all my sisters to come here and make a stand with us. The seven of us witches, plus two demons? We’d be a force no werewolf would want to face.

  Hadur shook his head, as if reading my mind. “They’d know, and they’d just delay. We can’t have your sisters here every night for four weeks until you heal and leave. Perhaps you should consider having your sister fly you back to the town, where you’ll be safe.”

  I ached to hear him say that. “I’m safe with you,” I told him. “I’m a witch. And I’ve got the nipper-wand and a bunch of enchanted spoons in addition to the magic Cassie laid down before she left. If the attack happens as Stanley said, then you take care of the werewolves in the woods, and I’ll handle whoever makes it to the cabin. If I can’t fight off three werewolves, then I probably deserve to get my ass beat.”

  “I don’t want you fighting off three werewolves, not injured like you are. If one of them gets close enough to grab you, your leg won’t be the only thing broken. No, if you’re insisting we make a stand, we’re going to make it together.”

  “Then we’ll have fifteen werewolves attacking us,” I told him. “I’m worried they’ll try to burn down the cabin or something.”

  “They won’t,” Hadur smiled down at me. “That would bring not only Dallas’ wolves running, but whoever manages your fire department in the town as well. Their goal is to frame Dallas. And the motive they’re putting on Dallas for this is revenge and trying to get you witches to back off and let him do his thing without oversight.”

  “Well, Clinton’s an idiot, because Cassie would see right through that. She’d be pissed at first and blame Dallas, but then she’d come to her senses and realize that Dallas isn’t going to hurt me, not after the threat she delivered. It’s like poking the bear, and he might be an arrogant ass, but Dallas isn’t dumb enough to poke the bear.”

  “And he’s most likely not dumb
enough to set his own mountain on fire to hurt a witch he doesn’t really care about and piss off a witch that could probably kill him.” Hadur shook his head. “I agree. This Clinton isn’t very smart.”

  “Poor werewolves. Two crappy choices in their alphas. Maybe if they didn’t pick their leaders through violent combat and instead voted, or had them play Old Maid, or do rock-paper-scissors, they might actually have a chance of a decent leader.”

  “Sounds like they need a revolution,” Hadur commented.

  I glared at him. “No wars. They’ve already got one. Do not go inciting any additional wars among the werewolf packs.”

  He snorted. “Doesn’t sound like they need my help on that front. Besides, not all revolutions are violent, and war does not always end with the physically strongest as the winner.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “No war.”

  “Not even a little tiny one?”

  “No.”

  He grinned. “Fine. I’ll just have to satisfy myself with killing fifteen werewolves tonight.”

  “And no killing the werewolves.”

  That wiped the smile from his face. “What do you mean? They’ll be attacking me. Their purpose is to harm, or possibly kill, you. Even that spoiled demon bonded to your sister would agree that killing them is justice served.”

  “Well, I don’t agree. I like some of these werewolves. They’ve got Dallas Dickskin on one hand and Clinton Dickskin on the other. It’s time to show some mercy. Beat them up. Send them running. Don’t kill them.”

  Hadur stared at me. “Their name is Dickskin? Seriously? Dickskin?”

  “Yep. Dickskin.”

  “Well, then, I agree. We should definitely show mercy on anyone who had to pledge loyalty to a werewolf with the last name of Dickskin.”

  “Good. We’re on the same page. Now let’s relax, conserve our energy, and get ready to fight.”

  He bowed, the grin returning to his face. “I live to serve, my witch.”

  Chapter 15

  Bronwyn

  As Stanley had said, the attack came at midnight. Hadur had sent Diebin into town on an errand, telling him not to come back until morning. We’d watched the fat raccoon run off through the woods, and I’d entwined my fingers with the demon’s, delighted that he’d been so concerned about his raccoon familiar’s safety.

  I was glad Diebin was safely away, because the prospect of eighteen werewolves attacking us here in our home was nearly giving me a panic attack.

  I stood as the alarm sounded, refusing to fight from a bed or a chair. But in my case, standing meant having crutches under my arms for balance just in case I needed to quickly hop across the room. I positioned myself near the table, where I’d lined up my enchanted spoons and the nipper-wand.

  Hadur paced, anger practically rolling off him in waves. When the wolves crossed the perimeter of the summoning circle, he knew it. I knew it too, thanks to the alarms Cassie had placed along the magical barrier.

  I tried to calm my breathing while Hadur moved to stand in front of me. It was sweet, really it was, but he was completely blocking my view of the one entrance to the cabin and thus my ability to throw any magic at intruding werewolves.

  “Uh, babe? I can’t throw a spoon through your body, so you need to move over.”

  He edged over a few feet.

  “More. My accuracy in throwing shit isn’t major league. It would really suck if I hit you with a spoon or a charge from the nipper-wand.”

  That got me another six feet of space. It would have to do, because they were coming, stomping like elephants through the forest, howling and shouting, no doubt trying to draw Hadur out of the cabin so the other three could circle around and smack the crap out of me.

  Hadur’s hands curled into fists. I could tell it was all he could do to keep from charging out the door and taking these guys down. The air in the cabin crackled with his magic, and his eyes glowed an eerie amber. What was he doing? Was this just his energy spilling out because of the pending conflict, or was he actually using his demon skills?

  Bright lights flashed outside the small window. I heard yelps and grinned, knowing that Cassie’s spelled flashlight had done its job. It also meant that the wolves were close. They were done waiting for Hadur to come to them, and instead had decided to come to us.

  Idiots.

  I exchanged a quick glance with the war demon and picked up a spoon in each hand. The door flew open. Three werewolves charged in, immediately jumping on Hadur. More werewolves streamed through the door, joining the other three and quickly overwhelming the demon.

  I threw two spoons, shouting “sit” with each one. Two werewolves fell to the floor, instantly as weak as pups.

  “Get the witch,” one of the wolves yelled.

  Shit. I pivoted, shifting my focus from defending Hadur to defending myself. Four more wolves went down before I ran out of spoons and had to resort to the nipper-wand.

  Three of the wolves that were on Hadur flew across the room, smashing into the log walls with a heavy thud. More wolves were trying to push their way into the cabin. Between the ones fighting and the ones on the floor, we were running out of space. I edged backward, brandishing the nipper-wand, thinking that instead of being beaten, I was most likely going to be crushed.

  Two wolves rushed me. I dropped one with a shot from the nipper-wand and barely managed to down the other before he reached me. The wolves I’d hit with the spoons were beginning to get up and return to the fray. I backed away until my ass hit the wall, trying desperately to keep the attacking werewolves at a wand’s distance. Too late I realized that the wolves had deliberately separated us—Hadur at one end of the small cabin and me at the other, eighteen wolves in between us.

  Three werewolves rushed me, one grabbing my arm. I hit him with the nipper-wand, the charge cycling through the wolf and into me. He yelped, I shrieked. The demon energy in the room surged, and suddenly I wasn’t sure what was the electrical zap of the wand and what was whatever Hadur was doing.

  “Brad, you worthless cheating dog,” one of the werewolves snarled, grabbing the one that was trying to wrestle me to the ground in spite of the electrical charge I’d just zapped him with.

  Brad turned around, his eyes narrowed. “Tenny, get your damned hairy paws off me right now. If you were less of a frigid bitch, I wouldn’t have to sleep around.”

  Tenny snarled and dove at Brad, her hands curling into claws, her mouth lengthening into a snout full of sharp teeth. I squeaked and got out of their way as they tore into each other just like two mastiffs fighting over a bone. It was then that I realized Tenny and Brad weren’t the only ones. Instead of attacking me and Hadur, the werewolves had turned on each other.

  And they were making a mess of our cabin.

  I looked across the room at Hadur. “Get them out of here before they wreck the place!” I shouted.

  He held up his hands. “I can only make them fight, not leave.”

  Great. Guess that made me the bouncer then.

  “Get out, get out,” I yelled, zapping werewolves with my nipper-wand. Hadur followed my lead, whacking werewolves out the door with one of the chairs. I hobbled on one crutch, continuing to shoot werewolves until my nipper-wand was out of charge.

  Once all the wolves were outside, Hadur closed the door and turned to me.

  “We did it,” I told him.

  “We did it until the next time.” He scowled. “It’s not safe here for you. Come morning, I want that sister of yours to fly you out of here and back to the town where you’ll be safe. I can take care of these curs on my own.”

  “Hey, it’s not like I stood in the corner and screamed. I helped. In fact, I more than helped. I kicked some serious werewolf ass, and I could do it again.”

  “You can’t keep fighting off werewolves with a broken leg.” He was in front of me in three strides, pulling me into his arms. “I was terrified that they’d harm you before I managed to get them to turn on each other. I was so afraid th
ey’d injure or even kill you. I can handle any attack they bring to my door, but not if I’m worried about your safety.”

  I reached up to touch his face. “We run this town, Hadur. We witches are the authority for everything that happens inside our wards. Cassie has just started taking her place as head witch. The werewolves will fall in line or face exile, and it’s not going to be long before they realize that none of us witches are going to back down. I’m not going to back down.”

  “If anything were to happen to you…”

  “Cassie will go deliver an epic smack-down to Clinton and his pack, and what happened tonight will never happen again. Clinton is a pansy. He doesn’t want to take Cassie on. His whole plan here was to pit my sister against Dallas to gain control of the mountain. We’ll send Diebin in with a note come morning. Cassie will do her thing, and I’ll stay here for however long it takes me to get you out of this summoning circle.”

  He kissed the top of my head and held me close. “I do want to tell you how magnificent you were tonight. You with your back against the wall, bright pink cast on your leg, throwing spoons and zapping werewolves with a spelled farrier tool…it was damned sexy.”

  “Even the pink cast?” I asked, my words muffled against his shirt.

  “Especially the pink cast,” he murmured. Then he bent his head and kissed me.

  It was a gentle kiss, then something sparked and he groaned, pulling me against him and parting my lips with his tongue tasting, licking, and…ravaging. Yes, that was the word. Ravaging. His tongue teased mine, then he pulled away to catch a breath. I yanked him back to me, nibbling on his bottom lip and tugging it with my teeth as I dug my fingers into his hair. His hands slid down my back to cup my ass, pulling me up against his erection as he took over, kissing me once more. My world fell away, and all I knew was his mouth on mine.