by Nash, Layla
“I got it,” I muttered, pushing myself away from the car. I could fix this. I could totally figure it out. “We just need to…to tranquilize him again. Maybe drag him into the basement.”
“The basement?” Olivia stared at me and nearly dropped the rifle. “You want to bring it closer to where we sleep?”
“Sass, we can’t do this,” Lucia said. “It was a noble effort, really, but we’re in deep shit. We can’t shovel our way out with that thing in our shed or passed out in the basement. It’ll be hard enough getting rid of the body without someone knocking on our door. I’m going to go put it out of its misery before those feds show up.”
She took a step toward the shed and I lurched forward to get in her way. “Wait. I’ll…talk to him.”
“Talk?” Lucia exhaled a groan and stared up at the sky. “You’re fucking kidding me. What makes you think it’ll listen to you?”
“I have an idea,” I said. “Just…wait a second.”
I waited until she nodded before I limped to the house and up the stairs, hurrying as much as I could without my vision going dark and splotchy, and I retrieved the book from where I’d hidden it in my bedroom. I nearly fell down the stairs as I tried to take them two at a time, and I had to hold my side against a stitch by the time I huffed and puffed my way to the yard.
Liv watched me with a narrow-eyed look as I clutched the book and approached the shed. My hands shook as I opened the book and flicked through the pages, sinking my consciousness into the earth as I searched for more ley magic and a hint of inspiration. Something. There had to be something...
Wind kicked up in the distance and dark thunderheads piled up on the horizon. Lucia shook her head and propped the rifle against the sedan so she could drag her hair back into a ponytail. “Sass, what are you doing?”
“I’ve just…got a feeling.” I blinked away a few dark spots, wishing I’d had time to rest before trying anything this big, and concentrated on taking deep breaths. In and out, in and out. The ley magic rose through me and buoyed me up until I bobbed along in a river of power, and I edged closer to the shed. “If this doesn’t work, use the tranqs. I’ll deal with shooting him, if it comes to that.”
Lucia shook her head but stood back, waving for me to go forward. Olivia retreated as well, though she kept a ready hand on her rifle. I still didn’t trust their aim, not with the wind kicking up as strong as it was. The sky darkened and sudden clouds rolled in, and bright sparks of lightning dotted the distant thunderheads that got closer with every passing minute. Static crackled in the air; the wind felt hot and dry, like it carried dust and trouble instead of rain. It felt oddly magical, as if a weather witch raised power far away and...
I paused as the book’s pages flared in the wind, and I looked west at where the reservation waited. Maybe Hazel... She hadn’t done any weather magic that I’d seen, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t. And a convenient storm could potentially delay the new group of feds from tracking us down. Or maybe it was something Lincoln drummed up, since I had no idea what druids were capable of.
It could have been Luke, though he probably would have made a joke about rain dances and then called me racist for assuming he was the cause.
I banished the thoughts; whatever the cause of the storm, I’d take the help. I took a deep breath as the ley magic surged again, responding to the static in the air, and I tried to hold the book tighter to make sure I didn’t lose it.
But when I looked down, the book remained open and flat, the pages not even riffling in the strong winds. The pages spread as if they were the only two surfaces in the book, and as I stared at it and fat rain drops plunked on my head and the paper, dark writing curled through the liquid and spread across the pages until a full incantation stared back at me.
My breath caught as the letters began to glow and the werewolf went quiet, and still the rain soaked into my skin and clothes and dripped down my back. It was now or never. I couldn’t delay.
Lightning rent the sky and gave me enough light to read by, and I held the book in one hand as I raised my right arm above my head to call the lightning to me. I didn’t understand the words on the page; I didn’t even recognize the language. But as soon as I started with the first few syllables, a bolt of lightning connected to my hand and completed the link between sky and the subterranean ley lines, and the words flowed like lava through me.
My voice rang out over the peals of thunder and I didn’t even need to look at the book to know the words, as disembodied voice from the fight against the werewolves possessed me and spoke with my voice. Power surged from beneath me and poured out into the shed, connecting with the werewolf, and scattering into the air like tiny sparks of lightning.
It seemed like an eternity that I stood in the cold and rain, shouting at the shed, and every one of my muscles cramped by the time the light faded from the book and it snapped shut. The lightning retreated and my right arm fell numb to my side, and I staggered back a step.
The rain continued to beat down on me and turned the yard into a muddy lake, and both Lucia and Olivia looked like drowned rats as they approached. Lucia managed to look calm and severe despite the mascara running in black streaks down her cheeks. “Well, Sass, what the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know.” I tucked the book into my shirt, not wanting it to get soaked and ruined—although that didn’t seem possible after having it out in the rain for... well, for however long I’d been out there. “How long was...”
Lights flashed across the house and the shed, and we all turned to stare as several SUVs and a battered truck rolled up the muddy drive and parked on the ruined grass. Lucia brought her rifle up, expression hard, and I took the rifle from Olivia to do the same. I was a better shot; Liv didn’t even argue.
“Two hours,” Liv whispered, folding her arms over her chest and trying to look fierce as we squinted into the headlights of the vehicles. “You made us stand out here for two hours, shouting some weird shit at the sky and calling down lightning. What the fuck is that book?”
“I’ll explain later,” I said. Numbness gripped every part of me. My index finger felt brittle enough to snap if I had to pull the trigger, but as the SUV doors opened and the new feds stepped out into the rain, I figured I could sacrifice it to protect my sisters.
Heathrow’s dark eyes glinted in the random flashes of lightning, and he ignored the puddles of rain water and mud as he stalked toward us.
Chapter 36
He got four steps before the battered pickup grumbled to a halt nearby and the driver jumped out—Lincoln. Hazel slid out of the truck next, and Mason jumped out of the bed. The shifter looked much the worse for wear, practically spitting rainwater, but the fury in his expression made me feel a little better. They must have driven like NASCAR to get from the reservation to our house in such a short period of time. Even if Liv claimed it was two full hours.
I kept my rifle up and trained on Heathrow as he approached. “Stop right there. You’re trespassing.”
“Federal agent,” he said, moving slow to pull his badge out from the inside of his coat once more. That time he held it out so I could see the special agent badge and a formal-looking card with a bunch of writing on it. “Lower your weapons and set them aside. I have questions for you.”
“Hugh, there’s no need for this.” Lincoln strode forward, his deep voice making the back of my neck prickle. “I’ve already documented their provenance and lineage. It’s in the report.”
He might as well have punched me in the throat. So much for his promise that none of us would end up highlighted to his headquarters. But I didn’t lower the rifle. I’d shoot Heathrow if I had to, even knowing the consequences. We’d have to run forever and then Rattler’s Run would be on its own. Or maybe we’d live in the cave forever like hermits. Magical hermits.
I shook my head to try and get my thoughts right. Clearly fatigue and magical exhaustion made me hysterical or delirious or something. The book pulsed, warm and heavy, agai
nst my ribs. The book and the ley magic whispered a thousand ways to take revenge, to make those trespassers pay. To hurt like we hurt. The book envisioned blood and thunder, retribution like the bible-thumpers promised, with none of the salvation.
A knot formed in my throat and I couldn’t speak. Olivia hovered behind Lucia and me, ready to brace us if it came to shooting, and she murmured about extra ammunition and getting to the porch if she needed to throw wards.
Heathrow never looked away from us, as if he could simply imagine us to jail or compliance, though he spoke to Lincoln. “You’ve been gone a while, O’Connell. I was told in town the one on the right took you out to where the wolves were spotted, and yet she returned and you did not. Imagine my concern.”
Hazel snorted when he said “concern,” since that dude looked like he’d never been concerned about anyone else in his life. The witch sort of smiled at me as if to reassure me, and nodded to my sisters. “We had to check something on the reservation, so Luckett returned home to help her family. That’s all it was, Hugh. You can call your team off. We’ll handle it from here.”
“I don’t think so,” Heathrow said. Two of his team members got out of the SUV and loomed over Hazel, but the witch squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up to scowl at the massive brutes dwarfing her. Heathrow gestured in my direction, those dark eyes as flat as a shark’s. “There was quite a bit of activity here. Category Two, maybe even Category One. I think that’s outside your purview, witch.”
Lincoln stepped forward, though he kept a wary eye on the rifles. “It’s under control, Hugh. Luckett and her sisters aren’t doing anything dangerous.”
“Why is there still magic radiating from that building?” Heathrow canted his head at the shed and my stomach dropped to my feet. At least we couldn’t see anything even through the missing boards, and no snouts appeared in the gaps.
“Smells like werewolf,” one of Heathrow’s men muttered, pacing forward as he sniffed the air. It must have been the same guy who sniffed me in the street. “Fresh. Alive.”
“You’re keeping a live werewolf in your shed?” Heathrow’s polite disbelief was mirrored by Mason’s pure shock.
“No,” I said. My voice came out a croak, a shaky denial that no one believed. Not even my sisters.
Lucia re-sighted her rifle. “Like I said, get the fuck off our property. You’ve got no right to be here, and you’re talking crazy shit about magic and werewolves. We’ll call the law if we have to, but we won’t if you get the fuck out of here. Now.”
“Not until we check the shed,” Heathrow said. “Now lower your weapon or I will lower it for you.”
“Don’t—” Lincoln started, but Lucia never took well to threats.
Her eyes narrowed and her finger tightened on the trigger, and for a wild moment I thought for sure she would shoot him. I braced myself for the bang and froze instead as Heathrow raised his hand. He made a fist and twisted, and the rifle fell apart in her hands.
It fell apart. The wood and metal separated into pieces and dropped to the mud, leaving Lucia standing there in shock as she stared at where her weapon disintegrated.
“Holy shit,” Olivia said under her breath, looking from the gun parts back to Heathrow.
The bastard didn’t even look smug. He opened his fist and shook it, and the rifle pieces scattered across the yard. It would take us weeks to find all of them, though the firing pin was probably gone forever. My teeth clenched as I glared at him, hating him more with every breath he drew. We only had two rifles, and no way to buy a replacement.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Lucia demanded, her normally pale face scarlet with rage. She recovered well for someone who’d had her weapon taken away in a blink, and she lurched forward like she intended to take a swing at him instead.
He ignored her and instead strode to the shed, gesturing at his team as if the rest of us didn’t exist, and Lincoln lurched forward to reach for my rifle. “You’ve got to—”
“Back off,” I said. I refused to release the gun, keeping the barrel aimed in the general direction of the bastard fed with the dark eyes. “I’m not going to let that asshole threaten my sisters.”
“What’s in the shed?” Lincoln asked, so cool and calm I wanted to throw a handful of mud in his face. Every part of me shook with adrenaline and fear. What if the werewolf tore out of there? What if it bit Heathrow and those massive feds all became werewolves on the rampage? I had no idea how long it would take for them to go from being asshole humans to asshole werewolves.
“A surprise,” Lucia said. Her eyes flashed with fury and she took the tranquilizer gun from Olivia, who was mooning over Mason as the shifter approached and tried to get between us and the rest of Heathrow’s team.
“Don’t,” I said under my breath, and she snapped a look at me that made my stomach drop again. Sometimes she was too much like our mother to be believed. Normally she didn’t speak her judgments, but you could damn well see what she was thinking on her face, plain as day.
Lucia shook her head, “I’m getting tired of cleaning up your messes, Sass,” and then aimed the tranq gun at the three feds approaching the still, silent shed. One of the goons in the SUV called a warning but it was too late, and she fired three of the darts in rapid succession. All of them struck home in the asses and backs of the three men, and Olivia clapped her hands in delight.
I pressed my lips together until they ached, shaking my head. She might have saved their lives by keeping them from loosing a werewolf, but she didn’t do us any favors by attacking federal agents. Lincoln muttered something under his breath about crazy running in the family, and moved to get between Heathrow and us as the agent pulled the dart out of his ass and demanded to know what the fuck happened.
He got five words out before the tranquilizers kicked in and he went to his knees, a puzzled expression on his face. He passed out, followed by the two others, but the rest of the team poured out of the SUVs with violence in their movements. The bald woman practically bared her teeth as she launched toward Lucia, and my sister held her hands up, palms out, and set a ward that bounced the bald woman back six feet.
“What’s in the shed?” Lincoln asked again. He didn’t move, just looked from me to Lucia to Olivia and back. Like it was completely normal to be standing in the rain shooting people with tranquilizer darts and working magic that might get us killed.
The ley lines stirred under my feet and provided a whisper of strength, oozing up my legs and reinforcing my ribs, and the book went back to whispering about making sure they never threatened us again. We were completely outnumbered. And when Lincoln realized I had a werewolf in the shed, he’d be on Heathrow’s side for sure. They’d kill the werewolf and then they might kill us, or at least arrest us for attacking Heathrow and his pals—and for keeping a werewolf as a pet.
Olivia sidled a little closer to Mason as the big shifter approached, and he pulled an umbrella from his back pocket to unfurl and hold over her. I groaned and swung the rifle around; that was the last thing I needed. But my arms weakened and the rifle drooped and then Lincoln held it by the barrel, taking it away to clear and toss into the sedan. Lucia shot me a dirty look, but I just rolled my eyes at her. Not being able to aim because my muscles were all wobbly was worse than just setting the rifle down. Besides, Heathrow was already passed out and her wards prevented the angry bald woman from getting closer.
Lincoln squeezed my shoulder, lowering his voice as he tried for the third time to get me to explain. “What’s in the shed?”
The bald woman finished removing the tranq darts from her teammates and glared at Lucia. “You’ll pay for that, bitch.”
But she didn’t get any closer, since Lucia’s wards still shimmered in the rain. I didn’t look at Lincoln. “Get rid of the A-Team and we can talk. I don’t want to see Heathrow or his pals ever again.”
He traded looks with Hazel and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the battered door of the shed rattled and creak
ed as it started to open. The lock and chain fell away, broken by the magic or Heathrow or the Bell only knew what.
“Oh fuck,” Lucia said. Her hands shook as she backed up, not taking her eyes off the shed, then she waved at Olivia to head for the house. “Get inside. Now. Go!”
Olivia bolted, grabbing the rifle as she passed the sedan, and set up on the porch behind the much stronger wards there as she re-loaded and prepped the weapon. Lucia retreated a few steps at a time, not looking at me. “Sass, this was your idea.”
“It wasn’t—” I bit my lip as the shed door creaked open a hair, hesitating before it started to move more, and Lincoln’s grip tightened on my shoulder. I took a shaky breath and nodded to my sister. “I’ve got it. Go inside with Liv.”
She gave Lincoln a dark look, then turned and jogged up to the porch.
Mason frowned at he studied where they crouched, then looked at me. “What’s going on?”
“We…might have made a tiny mistake.” I wanted to pull the book out again and hold it over my head like a weapon, chanting spells in the rain. But every part of me shook and wobbled. I ached to lean against Lincoln and close my eyes and just rest for a while. “There was a surprise waiting when I left the Crossroads, and...”
I held my breath as the door creaked again and the wind kicked up, flinging it all the way open. That was it. The werewolf would charge out and rip into Heathrow’s body and his guys, and I’d end up in jail for causing their deaths.
But the figure that staggered out of the shed and into the rain wasn’t a werewolf. It hunched over like the werewolf, and wobbled on unsteady feet, as if it couldn’t remember how to walk upright. But it wasn’t gray-white fur covering its body, but dark hair in normal patches. Normal... for a man.