Savage Magic (Shifty Magic, Book 3)

by Judy Teel

  When Knox woke up, he rolled over and looked into my cell, blinking against the artificial light from the torches along the back wall. "What good will that do?" he said after a moment. "The main door is locked from the other side."

  "During the war, cells full of prisoners were sometimes shot right through the bars," I said, delicately feeling for the second pin of the lock on my door with the tip of my smaller knife. "I'd at least like a fighting chance."

  He got up with his blanket over his shoulders. Padding barefoot to the bars separating our luxury accommodations, he watched me with interest. "Since you're standing here telling me that, how would you know?"

  "Rescue mission." I carefully lifted the second pin up to the shear line and then held it in place with the top blade. "A mixed group of Weres and practitioners took some of the kids my friend and I looked out for."

  "What happened?"

  "Along with about a dozen adults, two of them had already been shot after the Weres involved were through with them. Once we got the surviving prisoners out, my friend and I went back and I had a heart-to-heart with them about the virtues of not messing with anyone under my protection. The streets around the jail were a little smelly until their bodies finished decomposing, but they made great 'don't mess with us' signs."

  He swallowed and wrapped his blanket tighter around his shoulders. "How do you do it?" he asked after a moment, his voice quiet. "How do you forget and trust again?"

  "I don't," I said, feeling the next pin lift into place. I slid my knives deeper into the lock, the anticipation of feeling the tumblers turn tingling through me. "I have to constantly tell myself that there are good and bad people everywhere. Look for the good ones and shoot the rest."

  The bolts on the other side of the cellblock door clanked and churned as I lifted the last pin. Damn. Pulling out my knives, I slipped them back into their hidden sheaths, promising myself I'd try again later.

  I had just settled onto my cot when the cellblock door opened and Rosalind came striding in with the teenager from the day before, and an older man who carried a leather duffle bag. He had a slight build and straight gray hair cut short, and conveyed a level of authority that even Rosalind seemed to respect. He was also human, based on the couple of scabbed over cuts and scrapes on the backs of his hands.

  He went right to Cooper's cell. "Open it," he commanded, the lilt of an English accent in his voice.

  "Dr. Barrett," Cooper said, wincing as he pushed himself up to lean against the wall.

  The doctor made a sound of disgust in the back of his throat as Rosalind held the door open for him. His upset grew exponentially when he reached Cooper and saw the filthy makeshift bandage wrapped around his bicep.

  Taking the opportunity to duck out of the line of fire, the kid took the sacks he carried to the table and began to distribute food boxes as Rosalind went to Miller's cell and unlocked the door. I was at the bars in an instant, alarm skittering along my nerves.

  "Where are you taking him?" Cooper demanded before I could.

  "Stop moving," Dr. Barrett said as he carefully unwrapped Rosalind's torn off sleeve from Cooper's injury. "Individuals of an unconfirmed race must be tested. After that, they can be released."

  Rosalind waited patiently as the wounded practitioner eased off his cot and limped to meet her. When he reached the front, she took an iC out of her back pocket — not only the first one I'd seen since we escaped Charlotte, but also one of the newer, more accurate ones. Holding his arm out, she pressed the top of the device to the back of his hand.

  About the size of a pack of cards, the most recent models did the work of a phone, species scanner, medical scanner, and a computer. I'd heard the company that made them was even considering renaming them to iComplete or something dumb and market-y like that.

  Before I'd started consulting with the FBI, I'd used one of the older scanners, the clunky kind Falcon loved to tinker with. Cooper had given me an upgrade, a model under the one Rosalind was using. I'd gotten pretty attached to the sleek, fast tech, but in the end had been forced to shoot it. When the FBI comes after you for answers, you don't want to carry around a potential tracking device.

  Ah, the good old days. When I knew where all the escape hatches were.

  Rosalind watched the screen on the iC turn purple, verifying Miller as a practitioner. Her shoulders relaxed and to my shock, she gifted him with a nod of her head, almost a bow. "Bone Clan apologizes for our lack of hospitality, Practitioner Miller. The scanner was unavailable and new protocol dictates—"

  "Not a problem, Captain," Miller said.

  She nodded again, apparently appreciative of his graciousness. Her pleased look changed as she turned and crossed to my cell. Reluctantly, she unlocked my door. Smart woman.

  I stepped out and Rosalind repeated the test as I focused on breathing slow and steady like I had nothing to hide. Usually, my completely weird DNA was too much for the poor things to handle, but this unit was new. Was it more sensitive? Could it pick out the variations in my bloodline or would it land on the most dominant, which now might be Were?

  Rosalind frowned at me, but cleared the iC before I could see what it was doing. She pressed it to the back of my hand again and I watched the readout, willing it to revert to human in utter confusion like iCs usually did. If it discerned my mixed heritage, I was screwed considering that offspring of Weres and practitioners were not only rare, but still considered illegal by most paranormal groups.

  The iC stuttered around, flickering through yellow, blue and purple like a color wheel on speed. "Looks like whoever had it last got it wet," I offered, glad I could keep my voice steady. One of the better habits left over from my misspent youth — that of covering my ass with conviction.

  The device gave a final, frustrated blip and settled on yellow for human. I felt like I'd dodged a bullet.

  Rosalind reset the thing and tried again. This time the iC wanted no part of the mess I presented and went straight to yellow, bless it. Finally satisfied, she gave me the same formal nod that she'd given Miller, though without the warmth in it. "Bone Clan apologizes for our lack of hospitality," she said through clenched teeth.

  I grinned, enjoying her discomfort. "Apology accepted." I patted Rosalind's cheek as I shoved past her to stand next to Miller. Never pass up a chance to horrify a Were's delicate sensibilities, I always say.

  I helped Miller limp to the front of the cellblock and we stopped next to Cooper's cell, waiting for Rosalind to bring the iC and finish the testing. Instead, Dr. Barrett exited and she relocked the door behind him.

  "Hey," I said, nodding at Cooper. "He wasn't there when Travis died. Uncollar him and let's go."

  "Three days," that white-haired bitch, Rosalind, said. "No exceptions."

  As the kid shoved the last box of food and then two bottles of water into Cooper's cell, I wondered if I could safely disarm and neutralize her with him standing that close. "At least take off the PRC so his body can heal."

  "He's Aesei," she said as she took two water bottles from the teen's almost empty bag and pushed them through the bars of Danny's cell.

  Danny stopped the bottles rolling toward him with his foot. "Haven't you heard? Being the Aesei makes him faster and stronger than the rest of them."

  "And motivated, I hear," Dr. Barrett commented mildly, watching me with a look of speculation that I didn't care for.

  I gave him my best grouchy face. "Miller's almost lame because your Weres attacked him. Shouldn't you take a look at his— Ay-what?"

  "It was a rock," Miller objected. "By the creek. And it's nothing but a contusion and a scratch."

  The older man's soft blue eyes twinkled. "No need to worry, young lady. He's on my list."

  Cooper sat down on his cot with his rations. "I'm fine," he assured me, opening the box and taking out the block of cheese. I studied his pale face and promised myself that I'd find a way to get him out.

  "Put in a few good words for me on the outside, won't you sweetheart?
" Danny said, biting into a piece of bread.

  "You mean like, 'send Bellmonte his head if you don't get the ransom'?" I commented as I turned to follow the others, worry over Cooper eating at me.

  "I was thinking more along the lines of 'diplomatic immunity' but whatever does the trick."

  Rosalind motioned for Dr. Barrett to start up the stairs on the other side of the cellblock door. "Noah, help Practitioner Miller."

  The kid, Noah, retraced his steps and had just reached for Miller when Knox screamed — a sound of pure terror. I flinched and spun round, my heart pounding.

  "Oh, God. No," Sharon choked out, appearing at the front of her cell in a blur of movement, gripping the bars as she strained to see Knox.

  Rosalind grabbed Noah and shoved him up the stairs behind Dr. Barrett, slamming the cellblock door behind him and shocking the hell out of me. Grabbing Miller by his arm and me around the waist, she backed us up against the door. Then darting to the middle of the cellblock, she took up a defensive stance as if she meant to shield us from something, though what I didn't know.

  "Get to the wall farthest away from him," she ordered Cooper and Sharon. "Now!"

  Sharon strained against her bars. "Knox!"

  Panic tightened Rosalind's shoulders. "Get to the back wall!"

  "It should have been me," Sharon wailed as she sank to the floor, sobbing. "I was his mate."

  Another scream cracked against the stones around us and Knox collapsed to the floor, his back arched in agony, his teeth bared. I lunged for the end of the row.

  "No, Addison," I heard Cooper shout. "He's out of control."

  "He needs help!"

  Rosalind grabbed my belt as I tried to dart around her and yanked me away before I reached Knox. My anger surged and I tried to twist out of her grip, but she held on, dragging me back toward the front of the cellblock. "He's hurt," I snarled, twisting around to grab her wrists.

  "He's contagious," Rosalind snapped. "The pathogen went from Travis into him."

  She slung me against the closed door, next to Miller. "If he lives through the first attack, we're safe. But you need to stay back."

  In his cell, Knox flipped to his hands and knees, and his face contorted with anguish. A murky ball of yellow light ignited between his shoulder blades and through his chest, casting a sickly glow around him.

  "It's not the right color," I said, panic shooting up from my gut and wrapping around my throat. "It's supposed to be white." I glanced at Rosalind. "Why isn't it white?"

  Apprehension hovered beneath the determination in her eyes. "It'll be over soon, one way or the other," she said, moving to stand in front of Cooper's cell.

  Knox lifted his head and his gaze met mine, pleading, frightened, and then a rough cry tore from his throat as the light expanded, dissolving his clothing as it went. His hands curled into fists and then melted into stumps of murky light as his body became a shapeless mass, writhing and pulsing.

  Long, painful seconds passed in that half-formed state and I held my breath, afraid for him and the horrible death ahead if his body couldn't restructure correctly. Finally, there was a dull pop of sound and the yellow light disappeared, leaving a gray wolf in the middle of the cell. Knox gave a confused whine and collapsed to the floor.

  From his cot, Danny smirked at us. "Congratulations," he drawled as he picked through the food in his rations box. "Now you're all off the hook."

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rosalind let Sharon out of her cell but still refused to release Cooper, which kept her at the top of my enemy list with no amnesty in sight. I hated leaving him in there next to that bastard, Danny. But Miller assured me we didn't have a choice at the moment, and that the more trouble I made, the harder it would be to get any kind of reprieve for him.

  His reasoning was sound, so I reluctantly trailed after Rosalind and the others, impressed as hell at how Miller kept his dignity when the female Were picked him up and carried him out of the underground maze, and then up the steep stone steps of the fortress to the second tier where she said we'd be staying.

  The furnished apartment she assigned to us was a roomy two bedroom, two bath unit with a sizable kitchen and a standard living room area. There was a stocked bookcase, but no radio or TV, which didn't surprise me. Hard to get reception in the middle of a mountain.

  I left Miller with Dr. Barrett, wanting to be alone until I could process the shock of what had happened to Knox. If what he'd just gone through was happening in all the Clans, then I understood where their extreme precautions and hyper diligence were coming from. To lose control during your shift was dangerous, if not deadly, and all Weres feared it.

  I found Noah in the hall, sitting across from the apartment, and was struck again by how familiar he looked, though I had no idea why. Whatever. It would come to me.

  Walking past him, I headed in what I hoped was the direction of the breezeway. He got up and followed me. "I don't need a babysitter," I said, not looking at him.

  "I tried to tell the Captain you wouldn't like it."

  I glanced at him then. He looked as put out about his current assignment as I felt. He didn't deserve to have my bad mood taken out on him. "How about something to eat. Got any suggestions?"

  As expected, the idea of food caught his attention, but his moment of perking up dove quickly into disappointment. "The dining hall's not open for two more hours."

  "It's called pilfering, kid." I started down the hall again at a brisk pace. "All respectable teenagers rely on it for survival."

  With only a few hints from Noah, I found my way to the second tier breezeway and from the bottom of the stone stairs it was a straight shot to the row of buildings on the left, which he claimed housed the kitchen.

  We passed the training ring where a few Weres of both genders practiced hand-to-hand combat while another group spared with swords. The guy that had helped capture us was with them and as we passed, his friends nudged him and they all stopped to stare at us. Like I cared.

  The day was clear, the air drenched with the crisp bite of autumn, and I pulled in a deep, appreciative breath, wondering how I was going to get Cooper out of that miserable dungeon. Maybe fighting Rosalind to get to Ryker would do it, a thought that cheered me considerably.

  As Noah and I crossed the wide grassy area, the enticing smell of baking bread, coffee, and best of all bacon drifted over us, and we picked up our pace. We were almost to our goal when the stocky male stepped in front of me.

  "Human," he said with a sneer. "What's so special about you that our Aesei freely claims you?" Prejudiced much?

  I looked him up and down and wasn't impressed. "Yeah, someone's really going to have to explain that Aesei part to me. But for now, let's leave the answer to your amazingly unintelligent question as 'hidden talents' and move on."

  The Were crowded in on me. He was only slightly taller than me, which meant that with my kick-ass logger boots on, I could comfortably look him in his hostile, almond-shaped hazel eyes. "As in, move," I clarified.

  "We're on Clan business," Noah said hastily.

  "To the infirmary? I don't see any injuries." He fisted up his hands, making the muscles along his arms bulge. "Though that could change."

  Maybe not tall, but thickly muscled, I amended, which put him at probably twice my weight. If I wasn't hamstrung with keeping my secret, I might have been able to take him anyway. As it was...

  "Degotoga, please let us pass," the kid said.

  "And if I don't want to?"

  I took exception to the clear threat in his voice and the quiver of fear underlying the kid's. I mean, seriously, nobody likes a bully. "Noah, go see if you can find us something to eat."

  "Deg," the boy tried again. "She's just a human."

  "Go, Noah," I warned. As he reluctantly shuffled off a few yards, I let my expression relax into neutral lines and focused my full attention on the angry Were in front of me. "How about you get back to your friends now?"

  "How about we use you to pract
ice our punches?" His hot smelly breath fanned across my face and I grimaced.

  "Or we could move along peaceably and pretend this never happened." Who said I couldn't be civilized around minors?

  He growled low in his throat and did his best to intimidate me with his glowing Were stare. Yeah, like that had never been tried on me before. I felt him tense, preparing to either slug me or push me, which I really wasn't in the mood to deal with.

  When he shifted his weight, I stepped back, ducking as his palm came up, and then darting to the side. Instead of sending me flying, he hit air, the momentum of the intended strike carrying him forward a few steps. As he staggered to regain his balance, I swept my foot under his leg. He went down like a sack of rocks.

  I didn't wait to see how he'd react to me landing his butt in the dirt, and instead strode quickly for the outbuilding, trusting Noah to follow me. Weres had a lot of respect for food, and I hoped the moron with an attitude would think twice before starting a fight in the kitchen.

  The feeling of being watched tingled across the back of my neck, and I paused with my hand on the door handle to look around. Lounging on a sunny bench on the porch of the adjoining building, Danny watched me while a grumpy looking guard stood in the shade watching him. I told the kid to get started without me and changed direction, heading for Danny as irritation dug in between my shoulder blades. My little display with Deg must have left an impression, because Noah only hesitated a moment before scurrying inside.

  I debated the merits of sitting next to the vamp on the bench and pretending to be friendly, but since I couldn't bring myself to go that far, I opted for coming to a stop in front of him and looming.

  "You're blocking my sun," he said, leaning back and studying me, amusement in his cold blue eyes. "If my tan's uneven when I get out of here, I'll know who to blame."

  "How did Bellmonte know we were here? Why did he send you?"

  Danny scooted to the other end of the bench and closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the sun. "Isn't it sad that you don't have anything to bargain with for answers?"