Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6)

by J. C. Daniels

  “I would hope you are,” the speaker said. “If you’re...trapped in a rock and a hard space, I suggest you stop speaking and deal with your troubles.”

  “It’s trapped between,” I said. But the phone had gone dead.

  A loud clanging came from behind us and I glanced over to see Justin eying the rear view mirror. “Boxed us in from the rear,” he said, tone almost bored. “Most of it’s metal. I can deal with that. There’s one guy back there, too. I can handle the blockade and him. You?”

  “Sure. I’d love to handle a couple of shifters on my own.” I focused as I stared out the window, trying to gauge their power level. Not terribly strong.

  “Kit?”

  “Son of a bitch. It’s the best we got. Nobody else too close, I don’t think. You feel anything?”

  “Nope.” He shot me a look.

  I nodded, resigned. This job sucked. Disgusted, I reached down and drew the gun from my thigh rig. After checking the cartridge, I reached for the handle. “I guess it’s too much to hope we can talk our way out of this.”

  I came out fast, gun high. While the two shifters in front of me were focused on that, I flicked my left wrist and sent a dagger into my hand. It flew through the night and lodged in the throat of the shifter closest to me—he’d been tightening his muscles, ready to lunge. “It’s silver,” I warned. “If I were you, I’d be very, very careful about how you pull it out.”

  He went to his knees, face already white.

  The other man whipped his head around—he’d instinctively turned when his friend’s breathing went to wet bubbles. Now, though, he was glaring at me, eyes glowing. He was solid, through and through, face mostly hidden behind a grizzled gray beard, eyes a muddy brown and the teeth he’d bared at me were yellowed—likely by a lifetime of smoking. Even asshole shifters like these were big on hygiene.

  “There’s silver in the cartridge,” I warned. “Semi-automatic and yes, I’m just as fast with the gun as I am with a knife. You even think about moving toward me, I’ll open your guts up.”

  Behind me, I heard the hiss of metal against metal, magic rolling through the air. Justin had that end covered.

  The shifter in front of me growled low in his throat and a prickly sort of heat emanated from him. But it was...muted. Not weak—he could rip me apart limb by limb if he got his hands on me. But he didn’t have the kick to him, power-wise, that some of the shifters did.

  I held his gaze, not even blinking.

  “You want to tell us what’s with the new road decor?” I kept my eyes focused on the man who didn’t have silver in his throat. He’d have an easier time speaking. Hopefully, I hadn’t thrown the knife at the wrong man.

  “Ain’t telling you shit,” he said, lip curling.

  Lowering the gun, I squeezed off one round. He jerked, but not in time. “I told you I was fast,” I said over the sound of his harsh screech. He was now on his side, blood and smoke curling up from the ruin of his knee. The silver in the ammo would have shattered on impact, tearing into him. He would have to get it all out before he could heal completely.

  “Bitch...” He gasped out, eyes going wolf green on me. “Fucking stupid bitch...”

  “Come up with something that hasn’t been used a hundred times.” I chanced a look over my shoulder and saw that Justin had his man rolled up in the threads of silver that normally decorated Justin’s jacket. That silver wasn’t decoration, though. The metal had a deadly purpose and Justin now had the man hanging in the air, the thin chain cutting into his mouth, effectively—and cruelly—gagging him. Without looking away from the man, he flicked one hand toward the mess of cars. One of them gave way with a screech of metal. He’d already moved two of them. He added a third car as sweat broke out on his brow.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the man with the knife still in his throat reaching up. I swung my gaze to him. I palmed another blade and flashed it, letting it catch the light of the rising moon. “Want another? I can send it through your hand. You look like a lefty. I do that, you’ll have trouble pulling the knife out without shredding your jugular. You won’t bleed to death, but you’ll be damn weak.”

  His hand fell to his side. Blood had turned the front of his shirt red. It was a slow stream instead of the river it would be once he pulled the blade out. Of course, once it was out, he’d heal. But he’d have to do it with care if he didn’t want to seriously shred the vessels in his throat.

  Satisfied he’d be still for a few more minutes, I focused back on the other man. His dull brown eyes kept flickering to wolf green and back as he fought to control both anger and pain. “Let’s try again. Why the roadblock?”

  His lip curled, but he glanced over at his partner and something he saw on the man’s face made him shrug. With a pained mutter, he said, “What the hell. Money. We was told you might be coming through this way. Lew saw your boy there driving his car inside the old Shaeffer garage. We saw you shut the door. Call went out to some folks to be on the lookout for you and him. A blonde and a witch, in that kinda car.” He jerked his head toward the vehicle, his gaze lingering briefly on the lazy twirl of the third shifter. Likely a packmate. “Whoever managed to slow you down would get cash, lots of it. Once we knew it was you, we sent along word.”

  He shot a look toward the burning building before shifting his glaring fury toward me. “If we’d known you’d be this much trouble, we would have asked for a lot more.”

  I moved a couple steps closer, still keeping a good ten feet between us. Holding his eyes, I crouched down in front of him. “I’m not sure if you could ask for enough to cover the kind of trouble we’re going to give you.”

  His nostrils flared as he dragged in a deep breath, and I saw a flicker in his eyes. That alone made me smirk. I could only imagine what his nose was telling him. Damn shifters and their sense of smell. If I’d gone into a pizza parlor a week ago, one of them could probably tell—and I’m fastidious—okay, maybe obsessive—about my hygiene. But their noses are beyond sensitive.

  Smiling, I ran my thumb down the rough material of my vest. When I wasn’t wearing it—and if it wasn’t covered in blood or brain matter or something to that effect—it was stored in the closet at the Lair. At least, that was where I’d been storing it for the past few weeks, along with my other clothes. I’d recently moved in with Damon. He’s my...lover. Boyfriend doesn’t quite describe him.

  During the day, I’d sometimes catch his scent on my clothes, so it wasn’t any big shock that somebody with a nose far more sensitive than mine had just picked up something.

  The shifter’s eyes dropped to my vest, lingered on my hand where it stroked the placard of buttons.

  “Who you got after you, girl?” he asked, pain drawing deep grooves around his mouth.

  “Well.” I offered a one-sided shrug and a wink. “If you’re hoping it’s some big cat shifter, you’re out of luck. See, he’s already caught me—that’s why you smell him all over me. But enough about that...who is it that offered to pay you?”

  I saw the oh, shit look fade from his face, replaced by resignation. The indecision, the minor inner struggle had been brief and obvious—he could either hold out and hope he could get the money, or just talk and hope whatever cat shifter he scented wasn’t going to get too pissy. Apparently, he figured the witch was the lesser evil.

  The man was not an idiot.

  Grimly, he set his jaw. “I don’t know. We never spoke to anybody. It was all done through text.”

  “See, that’s pretty sad for you.” I straightened and sited on his undamaged knee. “This close, I’m going to do you a lot of damage—”

  “Wait. Wait...” He started to shove upward, pain twisting his features. He gingerly put weight on his damaged knee. “I’ll give you information. I don’t want no more trouble—I ain’t getting paid that much.” Face folding into a sneer, he muttered, “Skinny little thing like you, shoulda been easy.”

  “People always think that.” I didn’t lower the Glock. “Co
me on, man. Give me something...a number, a name.”

  For the first time, Justin spoke. “Money doesn’t do you much good if you’re dead.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” He set his jaw and jerked his head toward the man on the ground, the knife still jutting out at an obscene angle. “I can’t give you a name. I never knew it. I got a number—and information. You get that information if you take the knife out of him—without killing him and you let my other man back there go.”

  Some of the lazy country boy drawl had disappeared, leaving somebody with sharper eyes and a grim attitude. He still wasn’t all that strong power-wise, but it was becoming clear he wasn’t quite the bumbling yokel he’d pretended to be.

  “What kind of information?”

  “You think we’re the only ones who were interested in the kinda money being offered for your skinny ass? I can tell you, we ain’t. The notice went up and shit went wild at that kinda cash. We was just the lucky ones who saw you first.” The sneer on his face deepened before fading, leaving him looking tired and in pain. “You make sure my men don’t end up dead and I’ll give you as much information as I can, and I’ll spread the word that you two probably aren’t worth the money being offered.”

  “And why would you be so helpful?” Suspicion choked me. I didn’t trust anybody who pulled this kind of one-eighty.

  “Shit.” He spat on the ground before answering. Eyes slid to my hair, then to the sword at my hip. “We were told to look for a witch with brown hair and his bitch—cute girl with blonde hair, likes weapons. That’s what the bulletin said. Didn’t say shit about a sword. If it had, we woulda just stayed back. People know who you are—you’re that girl who’s hooked up with the outfit down in Florida. I ain’t gonna fuck with that Alpha.”

  “Damon’s reputation proceeds him,” I murmured. I still wasn’t quite ready to lower my guard; although I had a feeling the man was being straight. It would explain the change of heart. “How do I know you boys aren’t going to change your mind the minute I lower my weapons? What if your Alpha decides he doesn’t want to just let things ride?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. Something that looked like affront crossed his features. “I don’t lie, girl.”

  “Can you speak for the others? What about your Alpha?”

  He hitched up the shoulder and shifted, wincing as the movement sent pain shooting up his leg. “Ain’t no Alpha here. I’m the strongest of us, so I make the calls.” He gave a short nod. “If I say we’re done with you, we’re done. Those two ain’t going to try to take me on.”

  As he spoke, Justin moved up to stand beside me. His wolf trailed along behind him like a bizarre balloon, drops of blood falling from the gashes the silver had to dug into his flesh. Meeting Justin’s eyes, I saw the answer to the question I hadn’t even asked.

  I pulled my phone out, snapped a picture of the man in front of me, and sent it off to Chang. The object of my attention scowled. “What was that for?”

  “It’s called insurance,” I said dryly. “If I end up disappearing, you better hope you have nothing to do with it, because people will come asking questions.”

  The thin smile I gave him had him clenching his jaw. “I told you, I got no desire to mess with them cats down in Florida. I’ll be straight with you.”

  “Think of it as incentive.”

  He looked as if he wanted to tell me to shove my incentive up my ass, but he just nodded at the man dangling in the air behind us. “Let Lew down. Get that knife out of Jimmy’s throat.”

  I looked at Justin. His eyelid twitched. Behind us, there was a thump.

  “Lew is down. Justin will free him and I’ll deal with that knife once you give us something. Show of trust.”

  He dragged a hand down his grizzled face and muttered. The words weren’t particularly flattering but I hadn’t expected us to become friends. “We got the information about you from a site online—people go asking for...jobs to get done. Messes to get cleaned up, that kind of shit. The poster gave a dollar amount and your description. A few others responded right after we did. I don’t know most of them, but a vamp from a house south of here, right near the border? One of their top men had a few questions. He’s probably got men out looking for you. And a couple of freelance witches chimed in. All of them are nasty pieces of work.”

  He hesitated a moment, then added, “The vamps, they’re the biggest problem. Nasty. Meaner than a pit full of rattlesnakes. Not exactly...civilized.”

  I could have laughed at the phrase civilized being applied to vampires. I chose not to. “And you’ve got no idea who put the word out?”

  “Nope.” With a shake of his head, he said, “We was just told to look for you and if we hold you long enough, we could get money. We were given that number—” He recited it off and then made a grand show of looking at his bare wrist. “Now I ain’t wearing a watch, but you’ve been standing around here chatting with us a while. I put in that call maybe half hour ago, once I thought it was likely we had the right people. If you talk to us too long, I might get that money after all.

  Justin bumped my shoulder with his. “We need to move. I’ll deal with this one.” He slid his hand down my arm and plucked the knife from my hand. I didn’t ask why.

  As he backed away, the blade rose slowly into the air. It hung there, a silent threat as I walked over to the man on the ground, still bleeding. He was pale now and he was going to need some serious recovery time. At least for a shifter.

  He flinched when he saw me reaching for the blade and a fresh trickle of blood flowed free. “You should probably be still,” I advised. “I’m just going to take it out. Don’t move.”

  His whole body tensed, but he was still as I closed my hand around the blade, withdrawing it slowly. More blood flowed and I took his hand, pressing it to his neck. “Pressure. I assume you know you lost a lot of blood. But now that it’s out, you’ll heal.”

  Rising, I met the eyes of the older man. “He’ll need rest, liquids—lots of liquids. Food as soon as he can manage it.”

  “I’ve been a wolf longer than you been alive, girl.” The man’s yellowed teeth bared at me in a mockery of a smile. “I think I can deal with it.”

  I didn’t waste time saying anything else. Reaching up, I wrapped my hand around the knife Justin had left hovering in the air. His ability to control metal was nothing short of amazing and if he hadn’t let me pull the knife out of midair, I wouldn’t have been able to. Not turning my back on either of the shifters in front of me, I backed away until Justin was in my line of sight. Silver was spinning in the air and in the span of a heartbeat, it burned white hot. Charred blood and flesh fell away, and then Justin held out his arms. The silver wound itself back into place on his sleeve. On the ground at our feet, the man who’d been trussed up like a pig was covered in ugly black and red welts from head to toe. Blood seeped from some of the deeper wounds. He was going to hurt. Bad.

  Rage leaked from his eyes, mingling with the pain. “Let’s go,” I told Justin. This guy was going to heal a lot quicker than the one who’d all but bled to death. I didn’t want to be anywhere near this one once he was healed up.

  For a response, Justin jabbed a thumb at the car. “You’re driving.”

  I might have asked him if he’d been hit in the head if I thought we’d had the time. But once we were in the car, speeding away from the dead little town, I figured out why he wanted me in the driver seat easy enough on my own.

  As the miles sped away, he busied himself on his handheld computer—sometimes switching to the in-dash computer if he wasn’t getting results quick enough. I was pretty decent with tech and was getting better, but Justin had grown up using it and he’d also spent a few years in Banner—the government entity that policed...problems between humans and non-humans. Tech was drilled into his head.

  “Trying to find whatever forum he was talking about?” I asked as we sped deeper and deeper into the night.

  “Already did. I know a few—use some of the
less unsavory ones. Used to have to watch the more disturbing ones in Banner.” He made a disgusted noise in his throat. “Now I’m trying to connect this bullshit to the witch after us.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the look he gave me. “It would be easier if I knew more about her.”

  “I don’t know anything about her. I was asked to watch the building and follow those who came and went.”

  “She was the only one who came and went.” Justin sounded disgruntled. I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t told him everything about my new client. He’d been busy being all comatose when the man had approached me, and I wasn’t certain just how much leeway I had when it came to informing my partner of the pertinent facts.

  We were slowly making our way south, but not directly. Going to Orlando when we had a witch of unspecified powers and grudges trailing after us just wasn’t an option. What we knew of her could fit in a tin can—she used a salamander that made big-ass fires and she was as good at tracking as I was. Maybe even better, because I’d had no luck in trying to turn the tables on her.

  My phone buzzed indicating an incoming call and I looked down. The sight of the blocked number made me want to grit my teeth. I didn’t have time to talk to him. “I swear,” I muttered. “You’ve got the worst...”

  A suspicion started to form in my head as the phone rang again.

  She was tracking us somehow. Whipping the car off the side of the road. I grabbed Justin’s phone from the console.

  As I shoved the door open, he demanded, “What are you doing?”

  “Desperate times, desperate measures.” I threw both phones down and smashed them under the solid heel of my boot, grinding until I felt certain they were pulverized. Justin had climbed out behind me and stood watching in silence.

  Because I wasn’t certain enough that any and all electronic bits inside the phone had been fried, I pulled the weapon from my hip and shot each of them.

  “Are you going to burn it with fire next?” Justin asked.