by Nash, Layla
“Lying eyes?” Lincoln asked, just as Mason leaned forward in his saddle and grinned at me. “Pretty face?”
I refused to dignify either of their questions with a response. Even if my cheeks warmed and I was grateful for the chilly wind that gave me a reason to pull my hat down a little more.
I concentrated on the lines beneath me, drawing me toward the center of the Crossroads and the earth that would open into the caves. “Do all your witches go around explaining how their magic works?”
“Rarely,” Hazel said. She, too, sounded fed up with the boys’ silliness, and even rolled her eyes when I dared a look back at where she rode. “If ever. Usually we only discuss magic with other witches after they’ve been initiated, and we only find them when something catastrophic has happened. If you’re not born into a witch family, chances are you could live your whole life not knowing anything about magic, unless you lost control of it.”
I frowned a little, only half a mind on them. “That seems mighty shortsighted.”
“Why?”
“Can’t you screen for it, see if others have aptitude for magic? Maybe it’s a recessive trait and can pop up a few generations after the last witch in the line died out.” I shrugged, leaning over the side of the mule to peer at the grass under its hooves. Strange that it was turning brown already. We should have had another month of green in the Crossroads, and yet there were ripples of gray and brown among the living grasses. We hadn’t hit the patch of grass that burned the night before.
I caught Eddie’s eye and gestured at the ground, hoping he would take my meaning, and the ranger started to frown as well, scanning the land around us for other signs of trouble. Even when the rest of the prairie died for the winter, the Crossroads lagged behind. My mule ambled to a halt and I turned its head, searching back the way we’d come, looking for patterns in the ripples or anything to indicate what had caused the uncharacteristic flaws.
Lincoln, too, pulled up his horse. He studied me, not the grasses, though. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s probably nothing.” But I knew better—it was never “nothing” in the Crossroads. There was always a reason. Usually a dangerous one.
“Knowing what I know now, though, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” Mason said. “If it’s making you nervous, I’m guessing we ought to be pissing ourselves?”
“Your incontinence is another problem that isn’t mine,” I said under my breath. “It’s just strange that some of the grass died, and other grasses didn’t. Just an odd little thing that probably means nothing, but since I haven’t seen it before out here, I wanted to point it out to Eddie.”
“The grass is dead?” Hazel frowned a little more, leaning in her saddle to study the various waving strands.
Eddie urged his horse to keep moving, shaking his head. “Too bad none of you are the useful kind of scientists, who could tell us what’s going on with the flora.”
“We’re more useful than scientists,” Mason said, with something like dignity.
“Oh?” I glanced back at him, feigning innocence I didn’t feel. “Then what are you?”
“Nelson and I are shifters,” he said, and a heartbeat later Hazel muttered a few curses under her breath.
Eddie’s horse ambled to a halt. “What?”
“Shapeshifters,” Nelson said. He shot his brother a dirty look. “Which we aren’t supposed to talk about.”
“So you all are shapeshifters but you’re going to kill Luckett for being a werewolf?” Eddie demanded.
It was my turn to give someone a dirty look. “I’m not a werewolf.”
“It’s different,” Lincoln said. “Very different. Shapeshifters can control their actions and their shifts, and remain cognizant and in control when they turn. Werewolves are baser and run only on the instinct to hunt and bite and kill. They turn and rarely change back to human before they’re killed.”
“Fucking unbelievable,” I said. I shook my head and turned the mule around. There was no way in hell I was taking a witch, two shapeshifters, and whatever the hell Lincoln was to the caves.
Hazel moved her horse to block the mule. “Where are you going?”
“Back to Rattler’s Run,” I said. “I’ll get some supplies and come back out here and deal with this problem on my own, like I shoulda done to begin with. Like I did with the first four werewolves, when you all were chasing all over the reservation doing God knows what. Please pack up your shit and get out of town.”
Her eyebrows arched and she didn’t look away from me. “Look, hon, I know this is weird and a lot to take in, but you can’t order us to go away. We have a job to do, and right now that job is getting to where the werewolves have denned so we can exterminate them, and keeping an eye on you to make sure you don’t turn. Wishing things were different won’t change them.”
I leaned down to pat the mule’s shoulder, hoping for calm as I reached down into the earth for the ley lines. I’d never had to fight another witch, unless hexing my sisters counted. And Lucia was much better at hexes and charms than Liv or me, so it was never a fair fight. At least Liv had enough of the Sight to know when it was coming. I just ended up blindsided and covered in boils.
Mason ignored the dark look Lincoln gave him, and ignored Hazel as well. He looked at me, his changeable face set. Harder than I could remember his expression being, even when he and his brother restrained Eddie and talked about killing me. “You wanted us to share with you, Luckett, so I am. We haven’t seen anything like this in all the years I’ve served with our organization. Clearly this is just another Sunday for you. If spilling some of our secrets is what it takes for you to cooperate and help us understand what the danger is, then so be it.”
I frowned at him, debating in my head. It’s what I’d asked for, that was true. But there wasn’t much trust left to believe him or any of them. “Show me.”
“What?”
I gestured at the empty prairie around us. “Show me.”
Nelson shook his head. “It’ll spook the horses, and –“
“Will this get you to trust us?” Mason asked. “If not Lincoln and Hazel, will you trust us?”
“Trust might be too far right now,” I said. “But I’ll believe more of what you tell me.”
“Close enough for me.” He swung down from the saddle and handed his brother the reins. Hazel cursed more and hissed what sounded like regulations and rules at him, but Mason just shook his head and started stripping off his clothes. “I don’t care. We aren’t getting anywhere, and this situation is already so far out of regulations that one more violation isn’t going to ruin my career any faster. So if this helps Luckett get us to the caves, then fine. Write me up.”
I bit my lip as he shucked off the rest of his clothes, and his underwear snapped off to join the pile. He faced away, at least, though I got a good look at his muscular body and a mighty fine heinie. Mason glanced back, waggling his eyebrows at me. “Hold onto your horses, girlie. And if you see anything you like, just remember for the next time you –”
“Just do it,” Lincoln said, his words clipped.
I almost couldn’t swallow a smile as Mason waved at him, but all humor disappeared as the man bent double and the sound of tearing flesh reached us. Blood and bone flashed and my stomach turned over as Mason kind of turned inside out. I stared; I couldn’t look away. I’d thought it impossible, all the tales of werewolves and shifters and skin-walkers, but they were just as real as witches.
The sound of retching almost distracted me, though it was Eddie who lost his breakfast and not me, thank the Bell and Book. My stomach wanted to follow suit, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of shocking me.
When Mason finished, an enormous lion stood there, shaking out his mane and digging his paws into the dead grass. The horses immediately shied, pulling at their reins, and Mason the lion lay down. I almost couldn’t breathe. I knew magic existed, but that was some other kind of magic entirely. It shouldn’t have been possible. He w
as larger than Mason the man, but the eyes were the same. I knew it was Mason. It wasn’t an illusion; the ley lines didn’t react to him as if there was some kind of spell or glamour going on.
I cleared my throat a few times to make sure my voice didn’t squeak when I finally found the words to respond. “Okay. I’ll listen to what you have to say.”
The lion blinked at me, long and slow, and Nelson spoke for him. “You’ll take us to the caves?”
“On the condition that none of you ever try to find them again and never tell anyone what you see there. Swear it on whatever gods or forces you recognize.” And I looked at Lincoln and Hazel as well.
The sound of tearing meat filled the prairie once more, then a naked and panting Mason stood where the lion had been. My mule tossed its head at the scent of blood, but at least it didn’t try to run like my horse would have.
Nelson looked me right in the eyes and said, “My brother and I swear on our pack and our lion hearts. We won’t tell anyone about the cave and we won’t notice a thing in there unless you tell us to.”
I nodded, satisfied with that.
Mason, pulling on his clothes, said in a rough voice, “Your turn, Hazel.”
“I can’t promise that,” she said. She shook her head with regret, looking at me as if I could understand. “Hon, I can’t. I’m bound to disclose new magic to the Head Witch. I don’t want to make you a promise I can’t keep.”
“Then you stay outside the cave,” I said. “And promise you won’t tell anyone where it is.”
“That I can promise.” She nodded, then lifted her right hand, palm out. “I swear on the Bell and the Book and the Flame. I will tell no one about the location of the cave.”
It would have to do. I didn’t like it entirely, but it was better than nothing. I finally dared to look at Lincoln, who watched all of this with an impassive expression. He didn’t like it any more than Hazel did. Finally, he heaved a sigh. “If you’ll answer me three questions, I’ll swear.”
“Done.” I waited.
He held both arms out, palms up, and tilted his head back to look at the sky. “I swear on the oak and the ash, the elder and the yew, the hawthorn and the willow, that I will not disclose your secrets or the secrets of the caves to anyone.”
A wind kicked up and whipped through where our horses gathered, and Mason shivered as he pulled on his sweater and hauled himself back into the saddle. “Jesus, boss, you didn’t have to bring the full—”
“That’s enough,” Lincoln said. “You might not mind letting your ass hang out, but I’m not there yet with sharing what we are. Let’s get moving before the weather changes more.”
The bite in his tone was enough to silence all of us, and I wondered if he was truly that angry over what I’d asked them to swear. Or what Mason had disclosed without permission. The shifters looked cowed, even for lions. Lincoln looked at Eddie, his expression hard. “And we’ll ask the same guarantee from you, Ranger. These secrets cannot be shared with anyone.”
“I don’t fancy getting locked up in a mental institution, so don’t worry about me telling people there are witches and werewolves and shit.” Eddie still looked pale, and kept leaning over to spit and wipe his mouth after sipping from his canteen. “I give you my word.”
“Great.” I touched my heels to the mule, focused on the job at hand. We didn’t want to camp right on the caves, so we needed to move faster or risk approaching them in the dark. Being so close to the caves when we made camp just set us up to be attacked by any werewolves that remained. “Let’s go.”
“What about Lincoln’s questions?” Mason asked, though he and everyone else urged their horses on.
“What about them?” I glanced over, unconcerned. “He asks them when he asks them.”
Before the other man could open his mouth again, Lincoln waved him off. “That’s between Luckett and me. Right now we need to focus on the real threat and finding the cave.”
I couldn’t have agreed with him more, although my stomach wiggled with unease at what I’d promised. Three questions. No boundaries. There was no telling what he’d ask, and no telling what I could actually answer. I took a deep breath and focused on leading them right to the heart of the Crossroads and the center of the Lucketts’ power.
Chapter 20
We stopped an hour’s ride away from the cave when it became clear we wouldn’t have the light as we approached it, and no one wanted to brave the unknown in the dark. Not when a bunch of werewolves could be waiting. As Eddie set the fire and Lincoln dealt with the horses and unpacking the pack mules, Hazel tossed me a saddlebag filled with food. “Your turn to cook, lady. I need to set some wards and things in this area anyway, so it’s all you.”
I blinked, barely catching the bag in time. “You don’t mind me touching the food?”
Mason stopped next to her, carrying two tents, and both of them frowned at me. Hazel managed to speak first. “Why would we mind you touching the food?”
A knot formed in my throat for some reason I couldn’t explain, and I had to clear my throat a couple of times before I managed to speak. “In town—they don’t let us handle food. Or…or help with kids.”
Hazel looked horrified, and Mason’s eyes crinkled at the edges in a way that made me think he was sad. His voice came out a little deeper, a little slower, as he set the tents down. “Why won’t they let you handle food?”
“Because Lucketts are witches. They won’t risk it. We’ll…contaminate it.” And my sinuses burned at having to admit to them, those capable strangers who were completely magical and didn’t have to deal with things like that, the kind of abuse we’d put up with for too long.
Mason gripped double handfuls of his hair, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re fucking kidding me. They don’t really believe you’re a witch but they prevent you from taking the only paying jobs in that damn town? What the fuck, Luckett?”
“It wasn’t always like that,” I said quietly, and offered Hazel back the saddlebags. “Just…in the last couple of years things changed. It’s fine.”
“There you go again, saying things are fine when they’re anything but.” Hazel refused to take the saddlebags, and instead canted her head at the fire. “We’ll deal with that in a bit, sister. I’m not about to let a pack of bigots tear down another witch. But first you’re going to make us dinner. Just don’t burn it.”
But my feet wouldn’t move. I wouldn’t just be cooking for them. Eddie still fussed with the fire, and I didn’t want to assume he’d be okay with whatever I put together. Mason followed my eyes to where the ranger crouched, feeding logs to the flames. The shifter called over to him. “Eddie, do you mind if Luckett makes dinner?”
“She’s got to be a better cook than you,” the ranger said, not looking up. “So no. I mind you making dinner again, but Luckett could probably do more with oatmeal and grass than you could—”
“Okay, okay,” Mason said. “You don’t mind. See, Luckett? Have at it.”
My eyes prickled with unshed tears, and I headed for the fire so I could blame my rusty voice on the smoke. Eddie didn’t comment as I sat next to him near the flames and started to search through the saddlebag for the remaining food. We were running a little low, but once we figured out what the werewolves hid, we could deal with them and head back to town a lot faster than we’d traveled out there. Or so I hoped.
I still worried what Eddie thought about all the magic and witchcraft and even the shifters, but I didn’t know how to ask. I didn’t know if I could face his honest answer if that meant losing him as a friend. So I filled the pot with water and rice and beans, setting it to boil along with some pieces of jerky, and didn’t say a word.
He kept his attention on the fire. “I’m glad you haven’t turned into a werewolf, Luckett.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling very faintly. “Me too.”
“You know, Luckett...” He started, then stopped. Eddie rubbed his face and sighed, sitting back. He still didn’t look at me.
“I don’t know what I believed about the Crossroads and your family before this trip. I knew something was different about this town and this park, but I never thought... I never thought it would be like this whole other world.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. And I really was. It was hard enough for me to believe what Lincoln and Hazel and the brothers said, and I’d grown up knowing about magic and witches and ley lines. “I never thought it would go this way.”
He stretched his legs out, warming his feet by the fire, and looked up at the stars. “I served in the Marines for eight years, and spent a good amount of that time on a ship, floating around in the Pacific Ocean. I thought that was what it meant to feel small—standing on the deck of a ship that’s a couple football fields long, and realizing it was nothing more than a speck among the waves, a blip under the stars. But this…this makes me feel small and adrift and kind of lost. I’m not afraid to say it.”
“Then I’m sorry about that, too.” I stirred the mess in the pot, hoping the rice and beans absorbed more of the water, otherwise I’d end up giving them soup instead of a pilaf. I tossed in some almonds and fussed with the small spice packets we had left, adding salt and pepper and a bit of cumin and cayenne. “I don’t know what to say, Eddie. That’s why we try to keep things secret from everyone. There’s no telling how the town would react, how it would impact them. With how they already treat us, I wouldn’t be surprised if things got really bad.”
His mouth turned down at the corners. “I didn’t realize they didn’t let you three handle food. I thought you just didn’t want to.”
“My bank account doesn’t let me be proud about the type of work I do,” I said, smiling a little more. “At least Lucia can pull beers and no one’s as concerned about that, but no one will take meals from her, even if she only carries the tray and never touches the plates. People are strange.”