Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6)

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Shadowed Blade (Colbana Files Book 6) Page 4

by J. C. Daniels


  “I can’t.” Giving him a considering glance, I said, “You could.”

  “I don’t think it’s necessary. You destroyed any battery left inside so it can’t give off any signal.” He paced forward, hands in his pockets, green eyes narrowed. “You think somebody had locked onto our signal?”

  “Don’t know, but somehow, she keeps turning up like a bad disease.” Turning away from the remnants of the phone, I said, “Come on. We need to find new phones—or at least some way to put in a call to the Lair. Otherwise somebody is going to get antsy.”

  Justin snorted, although whether he was amused at the idea of me calling a six-and-a-half-foot Alpha shapeshifter antsy or if he was just amused by my understatement, I couldn’t tell.

  “I’ve got an idea where we can stop and grab some throwaways, maybe some rest.” He rolled his head toward me and the shadows under his eyes probably matched mine. “Might as well put your theory to the test. If she doesn’t show up by dawn, we should be in the clear and we can start working on how to trip her up.”

  “Yeah, because that’s been so successful.” Sourly, I circled around the car.

  He climbed in behind the wheel and I ducked inside, glad I wasn’t driving this time.

  “That’s because we’re hopping, trying to stay two steps ahead of being made into barbecue. But I’ve been thinking…and we’re heading in the right direction for what I need anyway.”

  The undertone in his voice had me wary. “Just what are you talking about, Justin?”

  In the dim light coming off the dashboard, I could see him smiling. “Relax, Kit. It’s all good. I’ve got a plan.”

  Chapter Four

  In the watery gray dawn, I stood in the doorway of a house that had been abandoned so long ago; only the skeleton of the walls remained. The floor was stable, mostly stone, nothing that would have rotted away. We’d been able to sleep, and the fireplace had worked so we hadn’t frozen.

  Fall was turning out to be a cold bitch. I had thought I’d been prepared for the weather. Of course, I hadn’t foreseen us making a trip into the higher elevations of Alabama while trying to evade somebody who still remained nameless.

  My breath came out in visible clouds as I braced my shoulder against the door. I hadn’t had a shower in three days. I hadn’t had a cup of coffee in two. I wasn’t sure which one pissed me off more.

  Justin was behind me, crouched in the dark shadows, grumbling to himself as he continued to dig into the murky cyber shadows online and ferret out information.

  We’d had twelve hours of silence. I think maybe we’d managed to throw her.

  She wasn’t done, not by any means. The last update on the forum had mentioned an additional five grand for somebody who’d point the original poster in the right direction.

  “I think we might have a ghost chasing us.” Justin’s voice sounded oddly disembodied, catching me by surprise.

  Running my tongue across my teeth, I thought that through, but I couldn’t quite figure out if he meant it in a literal sense or not. “Explain.”

  His boots scraped over stone as he moved to join me. “There was a cell phone number left on the update. I’m going to call it. Chances are it’s just a burner phone, but if this person knows how to use the forums, chances are he knows how to protect himself—herself. We won’t be able to track anybody down that way.”

  “This tells me nothing about any ghost.”

  “I’m getting to that,” he said sourly. He took up a position across from me. “You’re going to level with me about this job, Kit. Once we’re free and clear, you’re going to level with me.”

  I held his eyes, not responding.

  Justin came off the door frame and bent over me. “I might have to help take down somebody I used to call friend—somebody I thought was dead. If I end up having to do that, the least you owe me is an explanation.”

  The bite in his voice was nothing compared to the fury in his eyes. Sighing, I hooked a hand over my neck. “Okay. Okay.”

  He remained where he was for a long moment, watching me closely. Finally, he nodded and then shoved back, bracing his back against the wall. “I started focusing on the salamander. Should have done that to begin with. Not many witches who have the power and the control to handle one. The thing is…salamanders are rare, but not that rare. It’s finding a handler that’s the big problem. Salamanders are social little creatures and they’d cuddle up to any old witch who can help them spark their fire. They are kind of…” He blew out a breath. “Think of them like a teddy bear that doubles as a flame thrower. Their owner is the on/off switch. A weak witch will turn that power on and then burn out, leaving the salamander stuck in the burn it all position.”

  “That’s…problematic,” I said slowly.

  “Most of them shut down once they realize their handler is gone. It’s kind of shocks them.” Justin jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “Since getting a salamander and finding a witch with the right kind of magic and control is pretty damn rare…well, I started working through those I knew.”

  “How many is that?”

  His mouth twisted. “Five. I thought one of them was dead and I started going through my list and it turns out, one of them died about six months ago—documented death, no question about it.”

  “There is a question about one of the deaths, though?”

  “Nobody ever found her.” His gaze slid away, then back to mine. “She just…disappeared. Left her house one day, claiming she was trying to track down a kid who was coming into her magic and she just never came back.”

  He stopped speaking for a moment. Eyes closed, he blew out a breath and just stood there. After a while, he started to speak again. “She was in Banner for six months, then up and left, said if they wanted to throw her into Blackstone, they could do their best. She left and a few months later, she was gone. Her name was Chaundry.”

  “What’s her house have to say?” I asked, wishing I could offer him something more. But he wouldn’t want empty comfort. He’d want what I would want—answers.

  That’s what we could focus on.

  “She’s dead. That’s what they think. Their…connection to her splintered two weeks after they last saw her.”

  I knew too much about witches not to understand what he meant by splintered. A connection among witches who shared a house went deep—almost soul deep. They had ways of reaching out that defied explanation. Once she pledged to a house—not a physical structure or even a home, something almost spiritual—her fellow witches should have been able to reach her.

  Only death could break those bonds. Or so I thought.

  Judging by the look on Justin’s face, I had a feeling his thoughts had gone down the same ugly path mine had gone.

  “Okay,” I said, nodding slowly. “So you have an idea who could be behind this. And we have an idea of why. Now what?”

  His smile bordered on deadly. “Now we get on the road. While we drive, I tell you about my plan.”

  Chapter Five

  Relax…I’ve got a plan.

  I can still remember what Justin had told me as we barreled out of that miserable little town.

  Famous last words.

  As plans went, this one had sucked and I was going to withhold judgement on whether or not to call it a success.

  I had to give it to Justin, it had been an interesting experience. The brackish stink of swamp water filled my nostrils and permeated every inch of my clothes as I hauled myself out of the swamp. The dock was still in one piece. I couldn’t say the same for the house across the murky surface of water. Shaking water out of my face, I slid into the pirogue tied to the dock and started to make my way over to the other side. It took too long even though logically, I knew it was only a few minutes. By the time I was able to climb out and haul the little boat up on the land next to me, I felt like hours had passed.

  The man lying on the ground hadn’t moved since I’d laid eyes on him. “I’m going to kill you,” I said to Justin’s still form,
refusing to acknowledge the knot of fear forming in my gut. “I swear, I’m going to kill you. I had to dive into that swamp and one of my guns is still down there.”

  By the time I fell to his side, my voice was shaking. “It’s probably nothing more than gator food now, you dumbass.”

  His hand twitched.

  Some of the fear inside dissolved.

  Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

  Bending closer, I put my nose on level with his. “If you try something so stupid as dying, I’m going to tell Damon to skin you and do whatever he wants with your corpse.”

  “The…” Justin’s voice came out in a rasp. “Your boytoy’s a pervert. Better…not…risk it.”

  He cracked open an eye and groaned, one hand reaching down. He’d been inside the cabin, a lure for Chaundry, but she’d realized something wasn’t right. I’d been across the swamp, waiting for my shot.

  She’d blasted the house into nothingness. I’d screamed a warning for Justin just as I squeezed off a round.

  Whether or not he’d heard me, I didn’t know. I’d seen his body flying out the back only seconds before the explosion turned the tiny little cabin into nothing more than a memory and smoke. He’d hit the water as I took aim again.

  That was when she’d focused on me.

  Justin had opened up the earth under her. He had a weak gift for earth magic, weak enough to create a chasm that sent her plummeting down into a pit some six feet deep. A hole that close to the swamp was going to turn into a mud pit pretty damn quick.

  I shot it a look before focusing my attention on Justin.

  A piece of wood almost twice as thick as my thumb skewered him. “Thinking of masquerading as a shish-kabob?” I quipped as I checked the location. Could be worse. Hadn’t hit the gut or kidney. Instead it had gone straight through two ribs and the sickening sound of his breathing made my chest ache in sympathy. Or it could have been my ribs—they still hadn’t healed.

  He made a groan, wet and thick. “Take it out,” he ordered.

  “Justin...”

  “Take it out,” he said again and he opened his eyes, focusing on me. Pain wracked him. “Otherwise you have to move me around with that inside me and it will take too long and hurt like a motherfuck.”

  I shot another look at the pit. I could hear…something.

  “Hurry.” His voice was low, urgent.

  Swearing, I grabbed the ragged piece of wood and hauled it upward. I came with a sucking, wet noise. He screamed, the sound echoing in the desolation around us.

  I had the smallest of first aid kits tucked in the cargo pocket on my hip and it wasn’t going to do shit for a punctured lung, but it was all I had for now. Tearing it open, I grabbed the biggest non-stick bandage and pressed it down, leaving one end up. The adhesive clung to his bare skin and I tried to block out the sickening sounds coming from him as he breathed. “I’ll do better once we’re secure.”

  “It’s fine.” He was pale, eyes half wild. “Get me up.”

  I wanted to hit him. I could have pointed out that he did need to breathe, but I knew as well as he did that it would take more than a punctured lung to kill a witch. At least right away. It would sure as hell slow him down though and the more he moved, the weaker he would get.

  But if I didn’t help him, he’d get up on his own.

  “Bastard,” I grumbled, awkwardly helping him up and propping myself under his shoulder. I was so short, it wasn’t the easiest solution, but it was the best we had to go with. Knowing he wouldn’t go to the car without looking, we made our way to the pit.

  She was down there.

  In her cupped hands, she held something so small, it could have been overlooked, but it glowed red and as if it sensed me, it lifted its head and stared.

  The salamander.

  Its handler looked up next.

  I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep the words in my mouth from spilling out. I had no idea what might have come out, but it wouldn’t have been polite.

  Her eyes were red. Everywhere that should have been white was pure, blood red. Compared to the pale gold of her irises, it was freaky.

  She blinked at me and cocked her head, the movement strangely alien.

  “Chaundry,” Justin said.

  She shifted her bizarre gaze to him. He didn’t stiffen or react, but I felt his uneasiness.

  “Chaundry.”

  She didn’t even seem to realize he was talking to her; her attention flicked back to me.

  The little salamander danced about, looking agitated, and she leaned down, whispering to it.

  Justin barked out something harsh, one word I didn’t recognize.

  He flung a hand toward the swamp, the movement knocking us both off balance, and I struggled to keep him upright as a fat stream of swamp water came blasting toward us.

  It flooded the hole, deepening the mud and muck until Chaundry was buried in it to the waist.

  She was shivering and shaking when he ended the stream of water and the little salamander had curled up in her hair, gripping at it with little claws that too closely resembled hands for my comfort.

  Its red skin had lost its brightness and it made a weird trilling noise.

  Chaundry shuddered, her eyes blazing bright red as she lifted a hand, prying the scared little thing from her hair. It made another one of those trilling noises.

  Without taking her eyes from us, she placed the salamander on her chest and fell back against the wall of the pit and started to slide down.

  “Chaundry!” Justin swayed forward, as though he’d reach down and haul her up. He might have tried, if I would have let him.

  She pressed the salamander to her chest.

  “Stop!”

  I didn’t realize what was going on until it was too late. Justin had already figured it out.

  It was over in seconds, the stink of charred flesh now overlaying the scents of water and earth and mud. Chaundry started to slip beneath the surface of the muddy water in the bottom of the pit, her eyes blind…lifeless.

  There was a perfectly round hole twice the size of my fist in the middle of her chest—her skin melted, blackened…burned. There was hardly any blood, because the heat of the salamander had cauterized all the vessels as she sent him through her chest.

  A flicker of movement caught my eye.

  The salamander, trying to crawl up the slick side of the wall.

  Justin wavered again, almost taking me down with him. He lifted a hand and a second later, something round and covered with mud came out of the pit. It spun around dizzyingly, sending mud flying.

  It was a cage, I noticed dimly. It scooped up the salamander and came drifting toward me.

  “Take it,” he said hoarsely. “Can’t leave him here. Not safe.”

  I snatched it out of the air and managed to turn us around, the two of us lurching toward the copse in the trees where Justin had stashed his car. “One foot in front of the other, you sorry jerk. We need to get out of here.”

  I had a split second of warning—just a shiver of awareness and that was it. Coming to a sudden stop, I jerked my head up and looked around.

  “That would be ideal.”

  At the sound of that voice, I tensed. Only for a fraction of a second, but the small voice in the back of my head kicked me for allowing even that. Move, girl…why are you so slow?

  I dropped, steadying Justin as best I could while drawing the Glock from my hip. I couldn’t see anybody. Shit. Why hadn’t I heard her—him—here???

  “Come out,” I said, keeping my voice level.

  Nobody moved and after a second, I said it again. “Come out.” Adrenaline kicked in, sharpening my hearing and my vision. While nothing stood out in the dappled shadows cast by the moonlight through the spindly trees, I could hear something.

  A heartbeat, breathing.

  I focused on it. “If you have eyes—and I expect you do—then you can see the gun I’m pointing at you. Come out. Now.”

  “A gun.” There was a dry c
huckle. “A gun, really? That is the weapon you choose?”

  “It goes with the moment. Come out.”

  A prickle raced down my spine, eerie and full of awareness. The shift in the shadows caused no noise. She was in front of me so suddenly, if I hadn’t known somebody was there, it would have scared the life out of me.

  Although she was utterly sexless, I knew without a doubt I was facing a woman—and although.

  Although I’d been waiting, I was still caught off-guard.

  She slid into the dappled moonlight, clad in a motley mix of gray and brown, looking like she belonged to the night. She bladed her body, presenting the smallest target possible. Still, it was hard to guess at her body weight, even her height, thanks to the way she’d layered her clothing and I knew it was intentional. She was slumping as well. She could be tall and thin or average height and dumpy—I couldn’t really tell.

  All of it done intentionally, but I had no idea if it was an effort to mask what sort of opponent she’d be or if there was another purpose.

  “Who are you?” I asked. Still crouched by Justin, I kept my gun leveled on the spot between her eyes. Bladed or not, at this range, I couldn’t miss and with the Glock. It really did go with the moment.

  “That isn’t your concern, I don’t think.”

  “I’m going to have to disagree.” Next to me, Justin shoved himself upward with a pained grunt and there was another one of those wet, sucking sounds that made me cringe internally. “Who are you?”

  But she continued to speak, ignoring me completely.

  Snapping my jaw shut with an irritated snap, I listened.

  “Your area of concern should be getting out of here. As your friend is injured, you have even less time.” Those eyes glittered as she jutted her chin toward the pit where Chaundry’s body remained. The dirt walls were slowly crumpling around her and she’d likely remain there, for always.

  That would be her tomb, a pit of dirt and mud.

  “She wasn’t working alone. She is not the one hunting you. She was just the one they thought would to get the closest. Should you really remain here?”

 

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