by Nash, Layla
“Lucia’s got the motorcycle,” I said. “The truck died this morning.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Damn, girl. You’ve got shit luck with cars.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“Is that why you suggested horses?” It took a second, but her grin started to pull free. “Nicely done.”
“No,” I said, though I couldn’t help smiling in response. I didn’t want to like her, but that grew more and more difficult as she kept grinning. “I promise. Machines don’t work right up at the Crossroads. Some kind of magnetic zone or something.”
Hazel snorted. “Right. I get it. No, it’s fair enough. I’m sure the roads are barely passable this time of year anyway, and it’s been a while since I saw Linc and the boys saddle up.”
“I promise it’s not hazing,” I said.
She folded her arms over her chest, still smiling very slightly. “Sure. What’s wrong with your truck?”
“Starter died.” I clammed up as Lincoln appeared, not wanting to sound poorer than we already did. “Thanks for the help. We’ll let it run for a while. Hopefully it was just a fluke.”
He nodded, carefully rolling his sleeves back down and buttoning the cuffs. He looked so damn formal compared to everyone else I’d seen that day, and probably more formal than everyone I’d seen in a month or more. It’d be damn funny to see him on a horse and camping rough, even though he looked like he could easily transition to mountain man. “We’re happy to help. We can come back tomorrow morning if you need it.”
“Thanks, you’ve done enough. More than enough.” Olivia got in the sedan and pulled out, bumping up to the house to park, and I wished for a second she’d left me with the rifle. Just in case those dire wolves were waiting for the strangers to leave. I raised my eyebrows and offered my hand to shake once more. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“Any time,” he said, and gently squeezed my hand with his. My stomach got all fluttery again, and I untangled myself as fast as possible as Hazel started grinning more. Lincoln nodded and headed for their SUV. “Have a good night.”
I mumbled my thanks and shot Hazel a dark look as something like a giggle escaped the otherwise dignified woman, and I waited until the SUV reversed and retreated into the darkness before I turned tail and hiked up to the house. I probably should have invited them in for tea or water or beer or something, but we didn’t have much time to waste before we lost the moonlight and the spell wouldn’t stick as well.
I didn’t run up to the house, in case the dire wolves or just regular wolves were waiting in the dark, but I didn’t dawdle either. It was just good sense.
Chapter 5
Olivia had already called Lucia to tell her we were okay by the time I gathered up all the things we’d need for the spell and went into the house. Liv pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and leaned against the kitchen counter. “It’s just getting worse, Sass. What are we going to do?”
“We’ll ward against them, and be more careful in the future.” I left the herbs on the kitchen table and went to the fridge for some juice. “That’s all we can do, Liv.”
“No, Sass. I mean... We can’t keep going like this.” She exhaled in a gust, and when she looked up, her face was paler than even when we faced the dire wolves. “It’s just the three of us now. We’re not enough to keep things under control, not after what Bess did. There’s got to be something we can do, or someone we can ask for help.”
I focused on the juice and not the sense of helplessness that lingered just on the edge of our reality. “I know, Liv. We’ll figure it out. Maybe when I’m up at the Crossroads with Lincoln and them I’ll be able to sense whether Bess did any permanent damage. We can all three of us go up there later and try to set another binding or something.”
“How can we bind it if we don’t know what’s waiting?” She started to pace, hugging herself, and the old-timey costume she still wore made it a little tough to take her seriously. I sat at the table and started to braid the sprigs of sage and lavender and rosemary. She paced and talked and waved her hands until Lucia bolted through the front door.
Our oldest sister was wide-eyed and near panic as she skidded into the kitchen. “What happened? How many were there?”
Liv didn’t wait for me to even take a breath before she launched into a long-winded play-by-play of the episode. Lucia soon enough talked over her with the update on what happened after we left the bar, and their voices piled up and up and up until my ears screamed and I banged my fist on the table.
They both looked at me, and Lucia scowled. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Can we get this done already? I’m tired and I’ve got to get up early tomorrow to figure out what the fuck to do about these tourists and the wolves and the Crossroads. Okay?”
“Just because Alex was a dick to you doesn’t mean you get to be a complete bitch, okay?” Lucia threw her bag on the counter and went to wash her hands. “So get off your high horse, Sass.”
“Fine.” I left the herbs on the table and headed for the stairs. “Let’s get this shit done before the dire wolves come back.”
“Where are you going?” Liv called after me.
“I need a second,” I snapped, and didn’t stop moving until I made it into the main bathroom on that floor. I lurched inside and locked the door, dropping to sit on the edge of the tub so I could cover my face with my hands.
My chest heaved as I tried to breathe and not vomit or cry or scream. The sudden terror of probably dying in a wolf’s jaws had been replaced too quickly with the assurance of rescue and the uneasiness of Lincoln’s presence, and all of it swirled inside me until my brain shut down. I couldn’t do magic without getting my shit together. I couldn’t risk the spells and wards backfiring because I couldn’t concentrate.
The leaky faucet dripped in a familiar rhythm, and my feet left muddy prints in the ratty mat next to the tub. We’d tried to redecorate a few years earlier but it seemed like anything we could afford was too cheap to last long. We really needed the money, and even though something in my guts tightened when I thought about taking Lincoln and his team out to the Crossroads, there was no way I could refuse.
Which meant we had to make sure the house was protected before I left. I wasted time sitting in the bathroom, trying not to cry over stupid shit like Alex’s comments and the way he acted like he was better than me. He’d always known it, apparently, but he’d never talked about it when we dated. Maybe I’d even thought it a little, myself.
I shoved to my feet and splashed water on my face, combed my hair into a tighter ponytail so it wouldn’t bother me outside, and retrieved a sweatshirt from my room before I plodded down the stairs to face my sisters in the kitchen.
Neither of them commented on my red eyes and blotchy face at least, though I knew I’d probably hear about the temper tantrum later. Lucia handed me a couple of candles, a handful of herbs, and a heavy bell we hadn’t had to use in years. My stomach tightened again at the thought of having to ring it to drive away bad spirits and demons, but I took it wordlessly.
“Did you turn on the floodlights, Liv?” Lucia went onto the porch and frowned at the yard, and not for the first time, I was glad we didn’t have close neighbors. Although it would have been nice when we were kids, it was too much a liability when strange happenings kicked up around us. So at least there weren’t any mundanes around to witness us work magic or draw on the ley lines or fall victim to the dire wolves who hunted us.
Olivia shed her costume on the porch until she wore only panties and a bra, then strode into the yard barefoot. “Yeah. The breaker on the backyard wasn’t working, but we should be fine.”
Lucia and I traded looks. Liv had never been shy. Lucia cleared her throat. “Aren’t you a little cold there, Liv?”
“I’m not going to fucking dry-clean that costume again because it stinks of burned sage and smoke and the Mother-only-knows what else.” But she shivered and scowled at us as the wind picked up from
the west with the force of her irritation. “But yeah, it’s cold as balls out here, so move your asses.”
I sighed and dragged off the sweatshirt, irritated that we’d have to mimic her. The magic always worked better when everyone was equal, even in ways that shouldn’t have mattered. It worked better when I cast with my sisters than it ever had when working with Gran or Ma or any of my aunts and cousins, even when they were more experienced and powerful than we were. And unfortunately it worked better when we were all dressed about the same, and had the same emotional energy, and matched everywhere else.
Lucia muttered under her breath as she stripped off her jeans and stalked out into the yard, lighting candles and starting to chant the initial banishing spell that would keep any lingering wolves far enough away for us to set the real protections.
I juggled the bell and candles and herbs after I tossed aside my clothes. The faster we got through things, the better. And I hoped like hell that no one from town chose to drive up to investigate what we were doing, particularly the handsome stranger who’d already saved my life once.
Chapter 6
I woke up to a quiet house. The night passed in a blur of magic and stubborn ley lines that didn’t want to offer up enough power to truly protect the house, so it had taken longer than normal to strengthen the wards. I’d been too tired to even drag myself into the shower, so my hair still reeked of the burned herbs. Nothing else stirred in the house, which meant Olivia was back at work already and Lucia had either stayed asleep or gone to meet Clara somewhere.
My bones creaked as I got up and shuffled into the bathroom attached to my room. When the family started shrinking over the previous two generations, we hadn’t needed so many rooms and ended up converting some of the extra space into larger closets and private bathrooms. Aunt Tina had dated a contractor from the next town over, and he helped out for free so long as we provided the free labor. I’d learned a lot from watching him and helping, but not enough to actually fix things when they broke around the house. It hadn’t worked out with the contractor and eventually Tina wandered out to the Crossroads and disappeared.
I shook myself from where I’d stalled in the closet, staring without seeing at a clean but faded pair of jeans. We assumed she died, because there was a terribly familiar ripple in the ley lines that always happened when one of the Lucketts died, but we never did find her. It made me sadder every time I thought about it.
So I pushed it away. I needed to get my shit together and start planning how to get those strangers out to the Crossroads so they could find their drone and I could maybe find a fat paycheck.
My truck still wouldn’t start and Liv had taken the sedan, although a note on the table said Lucia had gone to town with Clara to buy groceries and that the motorcycle was in the barn if I needed it.
I sat on the porch and drank at least three cups of coffee to gather my courage. I called the repair shop in town and tried to explain to Jimmy what the problem was with the truck, and asked him quietly if he could fix it on an IOU. He hesitated for long enough I knew a “no” was coming, so I cleared my throat and said someone was on the other line and I would call him back.
I didn’t, though. My pride smarted too much. Maybe Eddie and the rangers would find the extra parts and I could take some of the money from taking the strangers to the Crossroads to get the truck fixed. After we paid off some of the second- and third-notice bills we had hanging over our heads, and restocked the pantry with more than just instant noodles and taco mix.
The floor of the porch creaked when I finally pushed to my feet, and I frowned as one of the boards cracked and started to split. And made some repairs around the house.
I’d have to charge the strangers a shitload more than they probably wanted to pay in order to cover everything we needed to cover. Lucia was already working as many shifts at the bar as she could, and Liv practically spent more time in the nineteenth century at the fort than she did at home. There wasn’t much else we could do—legally—to cover our bills.
Spending a couple weeks out at the Crossroads, wandering around searching for a drone, could do a lot to patch things up. I could find the money to buy supplies and grain for the horse and a new winter jacket. Maybe I could make the tourists buy all that stuff.
I got another cup of coffee and checked the weather on my phone as I jotted down a list of food and other supplies they’d need to bring. It seemed perfectly reasonable to ask them to pay for supplies. They’d already be renting horses, so they could get a couple of pack mules as well.
The forecast seemed reasonable enough for a couple of days, with no arctic blasts predicted for the next week or so. No storms lingered or threatened from the north, and the temperature hovered well over freezing. If we waited too much longer, full winter would descend on us and there was no way in hell we could camp out there. We’d have to risk the trucks and they’d break down and we’d all freeze to death in one of the snap blizzards.
So I plucked up my courage and fished around in my jacket pocket for the scrap of paper with Hazel’s number on it, and dialed her phone before I lost my nerve. “It’s Luckett.”
“Great to hear from you,” she said, cheerful enough it put my teeth on edge. “You’ve got good news for us, I hope?”
“I think so,” I said. “But there are a few—”
“Come meet us for lunch,” she said. Hazel’s voice grew muffled, as if she covered the phone to speak to someone else, then brightened still more. “There’s a diner here in town. Do you know it? Rory’s?”
I snorted, pinching the bridge of my nose. There were two sort-of restaurants in town, and a café at the fort for the tourists. We had to drive thirty minutes east to find even fast food. “Yeah, I know it.”
“Great. We’ll see you soon.”
Before I could get a word in edgewise, the call disconnected and I was left staring at my phone in astonishment. Well, shit.
I braced myself to face another awkward meal, but I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t think I went upstairs to review my wardrobe one more time just in case Lincoln might be intrigued by something other than a sweater, and not because I was cold and wanted another layer.
Shaking my head the whole time at my own stupidity, I left behind the bulky sweater and instead found something that fit a little closer around my waist and dipped low enough my boobs would be cold unless I wore a heavy scarf as well. I even borrowed one of Lucia’s leather jackets from the front closet as I stuffed my feet into the knee-high leather riding boots I’d left on the porch from the last time I’d forced the horse to exercise.
The barn was warm and quiet as I pulled the door open so I could wheel the motorcycle out, checking the tires and the gauges, and paused to feed the ornery horse an apple. She snorted and snapped at me, turning her back as soon as she got the apple from my palm, and I rolled my eyes. We’d opened up three stalls into one, so she had plenty of room, and even tried to find a pony or a goat or something to keep her company. She wanted none of it except to doze in her stall and sometimes in the sun in the small corral next to the barn, and not even a broken fence could motivate her to wander far from her feed bucket. I forked more hay into her stall and set the radio on low so she had some music, then started up the motorcycle before I took one of the half-helmets off the wall and made sure I had my phone and wallet.
I sent a text to both of my sisters that I was headed into town on the bike, and tried to do the math on how much money we’d need to keep the house safe and warm for the winter so I knew what to aim for in wages. Maybe a cool million dollars would do it.
At least I could still laugh about it, though I remembered to keep my mouth closed as the motorcycle chugged to life and bumped me down the drive toward the road. Bell forbid I showed up with bugs in my teeth.
Chapter 7
I took my time parking outside of Rory’s, ignoring the looks from some of the townies. Rattler’s Run was little more than a single street with no stop lights or anything
else to direct traffic. The Inn, which used to have a fancy name but gradually the letters fell off the front until everyone just called it “The Inn,” anchored one end of the street, closest to the fort, and the bar and bank sat at the other end, closer to the lonely two-lane highway that saw more threshers and herds of cattle puttering along than actual cars. A lone gas station sat a mile closer to the highway but rarely saw any business other than the townies, farm equipment, and the occasional tourist or people lost off the highway.
I hung the helmet by the chin strap from the handlebar of the motorcycle, raking my hands through my hair to get it back into some kind of order, and tossed the keys and wallet and phone into the helmet before picking it back up. Then I couldn’t find any other reasons to delay walking into the diner, particularly since I thought I could see Hazel and her friends from the front windows.
One of the ranch hands in town on his day off smiled at me and tipped his hat, about to whistle or say something sweet, but his pal cleared his throat and then they both kept walking. The pal started muttered the second they were out of earshot, and the other glanced back at me in surprise. No doubt the friendly one was new to town and hadn’t heard about the dangers of hooking up with the Lucketts.
My cheeks burned as I walked into the diner and the owner, Rory Junior, glanced up from behind the counter of chipped Formica. “Luckett. Haven’t seen you in a while. Feel like a milkshake?”
“Sure, Rory,” I said. “Mint chocolate?”
“Comin’ right up.” He hummed as he went to where the mixing stand waited, and I hovered near the counter so I didn’t have to saunter right over to the large table in the back where Lincoln, Hazel, and the two brothers waited. “How are your sisters doing, Luckett? Haven’t seen any of you around much this summer.”
“Working hard,” I said. I cleared my throat and slid onto one of the stools bolted to the floor in front of the counter, and leaned my elbows on the smooth white surface as I watched him scoop ice cream from the cooler. “You need someone to wash dishes or something, Rory? Any extra work around the place?”