“Who do you think escorted her to death’s door?” I mashed my lips into a firm line. “I used to have better control.” Vause was right about one thing, practice made perfect, and I was rusty. Relying on one of my talents to get by led to neglecting the others.
“That Fury would have killed her with or without your help.” He placed a comforting hand on my knee and squeezed. “They don’t back down. They’ll self-destruct before stopping a hunt when they feel they’ve been slighted. You did the best you could. Harlow doesn’t blame you, and you can’t blame yourself.”
He was wrong. Blaming myself was something I did very well.
“We got to you as fast as we could,” the redhead offered.
“You were there too?” I searched my memories for a hint of a second wolf but found none.
“Cord was as pissed as a cat with firecrackers tied to its tail when I fished him out of the water. He’d swallowed half the lake, and partial drowning is tough for even a warg to recover from,” she prattled on. A growl rose from the passenger seat, more felt than heard, but he didn’t comment. “Anyway, I overheard the witch talking before y’all vanished. She called the shadow things her pets and said, ‘Let’s go home.’ Graeson said home was Wink, Texas, so that’s where we went. We booked a flight and—” she slapped the steering wheel with her palms, “—rented this big honking thing then went after you.”
“Vanished?” I asked.
“I went to fetch Cord,” she explained. “I didn’t want the witch to get a head start, and I couldn’t leave him behind. By the time we reached the spot where I last saw you, you were all gone. No scent. Nothing.”
Just like in the woods. Either Letitia was an adept witch or she was friends with one to draw on magic so heavily to enact her revenge fantasy. The trip from Alabama to Texas was a long one, and I still didn’t remember a blink of it. She must have drugged me or put a magical whammy on me.
“How did you two…? Are you…?” I stared at his proprietary hand on my knee, which seemed to have put Dell in a smug mood. “Why hasn’t Graeson introduced us before now?”
“I didn’t introduce you,” he grumbled, “because I didn’t know I’d been assigned a babysitter.”
“Our alpha, Bessemer, had concerns about Cord’s state of mind. He asked for volunteers to keep an eye on him, and my hand shot up in the air. I’ve been on his trail for days.” Her grip tightened on the wheel. “Ever since…” A single tear slid down her cheek, glistening in the sunlight. She even cried prettily. “Anyway, I had a charm to hide my scent thanks to the brothers Garza, our pack witches, and I wouldn’t have confronted him at all if you hadn’t been taken.”
Garza. I dedicated the name to memory. One of them must have been the brother-in-law he mentioned, the one with the kids using his body as a jungle gym.
As tempting as it was to ask what Dell’s relationship was to Graeson, why she had been so eager to volunteer to shadow him, it was none of my business if Dell wanted to run around in the middle of nowhere, fishing waterlogged wargs out of lakes in the dead of night like some supermodel superhero.
“Mississippi, huh?” We passed a big green sign announcing we were fifty miles from Abbeville. Mississippi was a long drive from Texas. I recalled what Dell had said and noticed the takeout bags littering the floorboards. “You drove the whole way?”
“You needed rest.” Graeson stroked the inside of my thigh with his thumb. “How much do you remember from yesterday?”
Thinking while he touched me required more mental acuity than I usually had while sleep crusted my eyes, but I didn’t stop him, and I didn’t let his caress unnerve me. Much.
I remembered the lake, the umbras, thinking Graeson had drowned. I recalled the basement, the igel, and almost ripping Harlow to pieces with my bare hands while trapped in a murderous rage. “All of it,” I said quietly.
“Letitia used a teleportation spell to yank you back to Wink with her, in case you were wondering.” He slid his seat belt down his shoulder so it wouldn’t slice into his throat. “She wears a medallion with a piece of her home’s hearthstone inside. A drop of blood, and bam. She’s back home, safe and sound.” A tight grin stretched his lips. “The marshals figured that part out when she vanished from her holding cell prior to her pat down.”
Well that explained how she managed to snatch Harlow and then me. “How long was I out?”
“Twelve hours,” Dell chirped. “Girl, let me tell you. You snore like a freight train. I live with wolves, and I’ve never heard anything like it. You should look into those sticky things you put on your nostrils to open your airways.”
“Dell,” Graeson rumbled.
“Um, I mean, on you it’s cute.” She flashed a smile. “You can totally get away with sounding like a runaway locomotive.”
I cracked a grin at her rambling. For someone so polished on the outside, Dell had no trouble sticking her paw in her mouth once she started talking. “So what’s in Abbeville?”
“The next victim,” Dell answered.
Gorgeous and psychic too? Fate wasn’t that cruel. Oh wait. Yes. It was. “Graeson?”
“I told you my brother-in-law is a witch.” A frown touched his lips. “He’s been casting divinations.” He finally seemed to notice his hand was still on my knee, but he didn’t move it. “We suspected Mississippi would be the next state targeted. Using the scale I found at the Brushy Creek scene as a focal point, he crafted a spell to pinpoint where the kelpie will strike next.”
Not a bad plan, but it made no sense. “If it’s that easy, then why didn’t the conclave try it?”
Dell clicked her tongue. “We were wondering the same thing.”
A chill settled in my bones. “You think they knew some of the locations prior to the attacks?”
“You said yourself that you expected the calls like clockwork. The conclave moves fast to cover fae tracks, but this would be record speed. The locations are remote, the search areas broad, and there aren’t enough eyes on the ground to find the bodies on any type of schedule.”
“It sounds like you don’t trust the conclave,” I said slowly, “so what am I doing here?”
Graeson withdrew his hand but left his fingers dangling over the console between the front seats while he watched my thoughts churn.
Lori. He still wanted to use her—me—to lure the kelpie.
I pressed my back against the seat. The absence of his hand left a chilly outline of his broad fingers through the fabric of my pants. “Does Vause know where I am?”
“Nope,” Dell answered for him. “The less she knows the better.”
I touched my pocket and found it empty. They had taken my phone. “Does that mean I can’t check in?”
Graeson’s mouth pinched. “We would prefer if you stayed out of touch for the next couple of days.”
I pegged him with a glare. “You kidnapped me.”
“We need your help.”
“What about my family?” Pressure built behind my breastbone. “If the conclave can’t locate me, they’ll call my aunt.” I gripped his wrist. “After what my family went through with Lori, I can’t—I won’t—let them think they’ve lost me too.”
“Cut the girl a break,” Dell murmured. “I mean, you did abduct her while she was unconscious.”
“I brought her carry-on and laptop. I even grabbed that bag thing with the makeup in it.” He made it sound like he’d done me some huge favor by not leaving my belongings to get stolen from my hotel room.
“Cord.” Dell sounded pained.
“I’ll let you call your aunt if you can keep a lid on your location,” he agreed with reluctance.
“Great. I’m glad we got that settled. Any other orders you’d like me to follow? No, don’t answer that. Of course there are.” I resisted the urge to cross my legs in the confines of the backseat. “Does this mean I have to ask for permission to use the restroom too, ’cause I have to tell you, I’m about to pop.”
“No.” His gaze tagged Dell. �
��We have that covered.”
“I inherited your babysitter.” I huffed. “Great.”
“Sorry.” Dell hunched her shoulders. “For all of this.”
“We have reinforcements meeting us in Abbeville,” Graeson pressed. “You won’t be operating alone. We won’t let you get hurt.”
“Reinforcements.” It was too much to hope he would reach over Vause’s head to ask the conclave for support. “I assume you mean your pack.”
“Six of my best wolves.” Pride warmed Graeson’s voice. “You couldn’t ask for better backup.”
Eight wargs against one spellworking kelpie. “Your alpha doesn’t mind that you’re all off playing vigilante?”
“Bessemer obtained permission from the local alpha, as well as an offer of aid should we need more hands to take this thing down.” Graeson twisted forward and gave the windshield his attention. “No one wants a creature who’s preying on supernatural children loose in their backyard.”
“Good. Fine. Whatever.” I slumped against the door, propped my elbow on the armrest and peered through the glass. Nothing but trees, trees and more trees. “I was serious about the bathroom.”
Dell applied the brakes and guided the SUV onto the side of the road. She leaned across Graeson, jerked open the glove box and fisted a handful of fast food napkins. She pressed them into my hand and disengaged the child safety locks I hadn’t realized were on. “That ought to do it.” She flicked her hand in a shooing gesture toward the tree line. “Go mark some territory, girlfriend.”
Chapter 12
The Chandler pack had commandeered an old bait-and-tackle shack that had, at some point, also served fast food. The scent of grease and fries clung to the air. After breathing in the calories for a few hours, I could have used a handful of antacids.
The wargs moved fast to organize their base camp. Our long drive from Wink had given them ample time to settle in and set Graeson’s plans into motion. Plans I wasn’t privy to. Not that I was bitter about being treated as cannon fodder or anything.
The witchy brother-in-law Graeson had mentioned, Miguel Garza, had set up shop at the now-defunct checkout counter. A younger man stood beside him, his face a dark shade of red from the blustering I had interrupted. Both had black hair, richly tanned skin and milk-chocolate eyes. Some of their more creative swearing called to mind the year I took Spanish in high school, but I pretended not to understand the insults being hurled like javelins lest I make myself a target for rolling my eyes at their dramatics.
Apparently the witches were debating the hour of the kelpie’s attack. One, being a traditionalist, argued for midnight. The witching hour. The other, being more progressive, felt if a kelpie had committed eight previous murders in order to set a ritual circle, then its higher intelligence indicated it would hunt during times when children were more likely to be exploring unsupervised. He cast his vote for dusk. Five full hours earlier than the time Miguel suggested. And ’round and ’round they went.
“Are they always like this?” How did the pack stand the constant bickering with their sensitive ears?
“Pretty much,” Dell, who stuck to me like a magnet on a fridge, confirmed. “You get used to it after a while. It becomes white noise. It’s when they get quiet that you have to worry.”
Tired of the sniping, I left the storefront and ventured back into the kitchen/bait-cleaning area. The narrow hall terminated in a grungy door. Scuffs and dents marred the brassy kick plate at its base. Long, thin lines of scratched paint bore testament to the number of times waitresses had dinged it with trays on their way through.
The tactical team—all six wargs—bent over maps they had spread over the countertops and weighted down with cans of pureed tomatoes. One tall woman sharpened a knife while a stout man fidgeted with his gun. Two steps into the kitchen, I attracted their attention. The annoyed vibe they cast in my direction sent me backing through the door. Must be a private meeting then.
One last bastion remained, and that was the staff break room outfitted with Wild West-style saloon doors. I let my feet guide me there as if that had been their intended destination all along.
I had showered off the blood and clay from the Rebec farm shortly after our arrival, then slept in a tiny closet masquerading as a studio apartment above the store. Coming downstairs had been a mistake. I should have known all roads would lead me right to Graeson.
“You’re pacing tracks in the floor. Come in and sit down.” His voice carried down the hall when I hesitated with a hand resting on one half of the set of swinging doors. “You’re going to make yourself tired, and tired people make mistakes.”
“Like trusting wargs?” I shoved inside and found him playing solitaire on a scuffed laminate tabletop, sitting in a chair with a warped leg. “Lesson learned. How about you let me go, and I forget about this whole unlawful-imprisonment thing you’ve got happening here?”
“You’re the best chance we have at success.” He thumbed the edge of his deck of cards. “Knowing what you know now, would you leave even if I gave you a set of keys?”
I didn’t bother with an answer. It was a rhetorical question. There was no way I could bolt when he had intel pinpointing Charybdis’s next move. Not when together we had the resources to stop him from taking another child’s life.
I joined him at the table, and my leg bounced under it. “I need some answers. You said you want my help. Fine. How long is this operation of yours supposed to last? I can’t stay off the grid for an entire month.”
“You won’t have to.” His lips pursed while he debated his next move. “The Garzas are fighting out the timeline. We expect Charybdis to make his move within the next seventy-two hours.”
“That breaks his pattern,” I argued. “Isn’t timing part of the ritual’s magic?”
“The short answer is… We don’t know. He takes his victims weeks prior to their discovery. The McKenna girl escaped. Losing her might have broken the pattern.” He tapped a card on the table’s edge. “Or, it’s possible the dead girl Letitia claims to have seen with the kelpie was taken in time to be sacrificed on schedule.”
I waved a finger through the air. “The Garzas can’t wave a magic wand and tell us?”
“No.” Reluctance flavored the word. “The purported victim’s body won’t be found for a few weeks, and if we’re truly ahead of him, then by the time that girl is found the next will have already been taken.”
Nodding that I understood, I still battled the feeling we had abandoned the poor girl, though a corpse was all we could have reclaimed had we stayed and searched for her.
“We’re here because Miguel’s magic said this is where the kelpie is or will be soon.” He tilted his head. “The fact is, there are too many variables. We don’t know enough about Charybdis to pinpoint any one thing as breaking his pattern. The conclave has never been a step ahead of him before.” He flexed the card in his hand until it almost bent in two. “Coming to Mississippi so soon after a kill may be part of his process. He may be here scouting the area while he searches for potential complications prior to moving his operation here.”
We were talking about a glorified horse thinking in terms that would be alien to an animal. This wasn’t a run-of-the-mill kelpie, we knew that, but this wasn’t the bipedal fae Thierry saw exit the portal either. Did that mean the portal fae was controlling the kelpie? To what end? What did he gain through having another creature commit murders on his behalf? Where did the circle fit into things? Why was Tennessee the target? We didn’t have enough information to do more than guess, and guessing made for sloppy detective work.
We needed more from the Garza brothers. This was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. We needed a means of tracking the person holding the kelpie’s reins. The only way I could think of to do that was offering up the kelpie itself. Charybdis’s magical signature permeated his victims’ bodies long after death, but the trace was so faint I wasn’t sure the witches could use the bodies we had recovered so far. Not to mention
I couldn’t very well sneak them into a secured conclave facility or smuggle one out for them to cast over. Our best bet was capturing the kelpie or, gods forbid, finding the remains of the Alabama girl before the conclave did, when they would be freshest.
Rolling my head on my neck, I rubbed my sore nape. “How long until the Garzas give us an update?”
“If they can’t make up their minds soon, I plan on cracking their heads together.” He thumped a card against the table. “We won’t know the kelpie’s whereabouts, but at least we’ll be able to hear ourselves think.”
I accepted that with a nod. “When do I get my phone call?”
“I’ll drive you into town tonight. We’ll pick up a burner cell and let you make your call.” His expression didn’t change. “Soon enough for you?”
“Yes,” I said thoughtfully. Time to do some serious soul-searching. Did I want to go this alone? Did I trust Graeson and his pack to keep me safe? Or did I want to sneak a call in to Vause and bring in conclave reinforcements? “Am I allowed to go for a walk?”
“As long as Dell goes with you, sure.” He didn’t look away from his game. “Stick close to base.”
The urge to slap him upside the head came and went on a sigh. I’d had my fill of alphahole for the night. Or was that betahole? Was there even a difference? I left Graeson to his cards and hit the rattletrap porch. Dell, who had been hovering in the hall, fell in step behind me.
Violet clouds bruised the pink sky. Water glittered on my left. I turned right.
“So…” Dell scooped up a rock and hurled it bouncing down the road ahead of us. “What are you exactly?”
“Graeson didn’t tell you?”
“Don’t call him Graeson, seriously. That last-name thing you cops do is weird.” She wrinkled her nose. “I did ask him what species of fae you are. I figured if I was helping him kidnap you, I ought to at least know how much trouble we stood to get into with the conclave over you. Cord told me to mind my own damn business.”
“You called me a freaky shifter.” Those had been among the first words out of her mouth to me. “I assumed that meant you watched the show out at the Rebecs’ place.”
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