Illicit

by Cathy Clamp

  Without another word, he seated himself behind the wheel. When he slammed the door, the whole car shook. He started the engine, threw the car into gear, and soon had them turned around and heading for Luna Lake. After a long silence, broken only by the sound of his fingers thrumming on the steering wheel, Rachel sighed and said, “Sorry.”

  He grunted in acknowledgment but didn’t respond, which annoyed her, and the smell of his anger continued unabated. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the side window. Jerk.

  She reached over and turned the music back on. She didn’t sing, though—with a pissed-off Wolven agent in the car, that seemed somehow … inappropriate. But she kept the mantra in her head. New Attitude. I am in control. She noticed that his fingers began to tap in time with the beat of the music.

  As they drove into town, Rachel spotted a half dozen or more strangers wandering along the street next to the police station. The Wolven agent parked near the station and took her keys, then hopped out of the car. Rachel was reaching for the passenger door handle when he opened it from outside. She wasn’t sure whether he acted out of courtesy or suspicion that she might bolt, but she thanked him as she got out and stood up.

  The area was full of animal smells she didn’t recognize—exotic cats and birds and even a snake. That made her head turn, searching—she knew the scent of snakes all too well. The odor pulled an old fear from deep inside her, something she thought she’d overcome. She eyed the newcomers with suspicion but couldn’t figure out who smelled of reptile.

  Her foster father, John Williams, separated from the crowd and half ran toward the car. He pulled her into an abrupt, powerful hug. It surprised her, since he wasn’t much of a hugger. His thick green cable sweater was warm against her face. “For God’s sake, Rachel! You could have been killed. What were you thinking?”

  What could she say? He put a dark, cool hand on the side of her head, pressing her cheek against his fluffy sweater. His smell, warm feathers and cologne, made her feel safe. She whispered, “There’s a snake in town, Dad.”

  He hugged her even closer as warm concern flooded her nose. “Is that why you ran? He’s a councilman, just here to check security. He’s leaving. A cat will be taking his place for the meetings.”

  She decided to let John believe the snake was why she’d tried to escape. “As long as he’s leaving.”

  She felt his head turn as he addressed the owl shifter who had captured her. “Thank you for bringing her back. She still has PTSD from her time with the snakes. But she’s not a spy or a threat. Please don’t let them hurt her, Agent Adway.”

  Adway. Wow. That was a surname she hadn’t heard in a long time … in a lifetime. The owl agent let out a long sigh. “It’s not up to me. I’m not in charge of this operation. But I’ll try to get them to understand. What’s her name, so I can pull her file?”

  Sliding out of John’s hug, she faced the other man, holding out her arms in frustration. “Again … right here in front of you. What is it with you guys?” Not really expecting an answer, she continued. “I’m Rachel Washington.”

  The owl’s jaw dropped and his eyes narrowed. He stared at her for a long moment, pointing at her with one finger. All that came out of his mouth was, “You—” Abruptly he spun on his heels and sprinted toward a black SUV a dozen feet away.

  Her dad put his hands on his hips, raising his shoulders and lowering his head just a bit, like he would in owl form when annoyed. “Well, that was rude. What’s his problem?”

  She shook her head, staring after the agent and feeling a weird mixture of gratitude and frustration. “Pfft. They were both like that.”

  “Both?”

  How to explain? “Another Wolven agent, I’m guessing this guy’s boss, stopped us on the road. He’s a big black bear and he was a total jerk. Look what he did to the top of my car!”

  John blinked at the sight of the roof, where four messy punctures cut through to the headliner inside. “Okay, that is not acceptable. Someone needs to fix this.” He glanced around, then nodded and touched her shoulder. “Wait here.”

  Rachel had no intention of waiting. She wanted to hear more about what was happening in town, so she followed her dad over to the trio of vehicles parked near the diner. He called, “Excuse me, Mrs. Monier?”

  A short, slender woman with reddish-blond hair, dressed in a fluffy tan jacket with a fur ruff that matched the trim on her boots, turned away from a small group of strangers. Amber Monier had been hanging around town since Monk and Gabriel had died, and Rachel assumed the bobcat shifter was part of Wolven. The woman had never taken the time to introduce herself around, which Rachel thought was bad manners. Bitty seemed to know her quite well, based on things the older woman had said.

  “Actually, it’s Wingate. Monier was my maiden name, but old friends like our esteemed snake councilman tend to still call me that.”

  A few steps behind her father, Rachel crossed into scent range just as the woman said “snake.” The reptile’s scent made the young owl stumble to a stop and gasp for breath. Her father must have been trying to protect her from this when he told her to stay away.

  She saw the snake now, right in front of her. He was tall and Middle Eastern in appearance, with a clean-shaven, narrow face … a viper’s face. He wore a headdress similar to the keffiyehs she’d seen back home when she was growing up, but the cloth flowed like silk and was embroidered with golden thread that glowed in the rising sun. From the side, he looked just like the man her captors had spoken about in hushed voices, the man she’d seen only once: Sargon, who had inspired emotions far beyond terror.

  Like Sargon, this man absolutely reeked of power, which was cast out around him in a halo of pain. Maybe it wasn’t the sun that made his headdress glow. Her skin burned, her hair felt ready to ignite into flame. She couldn’t go any closer. He was just standing there, with people fawning over him. Even her dad had slowed and bowed his head.

  Owls do not bow to snakes! She had to master her fears.

  “How dare you show your face among owls! How dare you!” She spat the words, shouting across the distance that her body couldn’t tread.

  All conversation stopped, all faces turned toward Rachel. The snake’s gaze met hers. He narrowed his eyes and started to walk toward her. Though Rachel’s instincts screamed fly! her feet were frozen, as though set in cement. Her dad tried to step between them, but the snake’s hand made a slight movement, tossing John aside as easily as if he were brushing off a mosquito.

  The owl agent walked up to the snake without hesitation and put a hand on the taller man’s shoulder. The snake again tossed his hand lightly and seemed surprised when the owl was able to grab him, momentarily arresting his motion. His brows raised in an almost elegant way, but his scent was thick and oily, as angry as a pan burning on the stove. The agent dipped his head, staring at the snake’s neck, but his voice was calm and steady when he said, “Your eminence, please. She was one of those rescued from the cave.”

  The snake looked at Rachel again. He nodded once. The woman who smelled of cat touched his other arm. Power burned between them, hot enough to scorch as the cat tried to hold back the snake. Rather than fight her, he turned his head slightly and said quietly, “Release me, Amber. You know this must happen.”

  Something unspoken passed between them, Rachel could tell. When the cat dipped her head and stepped back, so did the owl.

  They were going to let him kill her!

  Rachel knew she was going to die. Nobody in town could stand up to someone of this power. Even the guards in the cave, as sadistic as they were, feared Sargon’s level of evil. Like him, this snake had no soul.

  Maybe this was best. Perhaps the only way she could escape her past was to end her present. She let all the hate she felt bleed into her words. “Go ahead. Kill me. Because if you don’t, you’ll never catch me and you’ll never make me fear you again.”

  A few drops of spittle landed on the snake’s face. Both Wolven agents twitche
d.

  The snake regarded her with narrowed eyes. Oddly, his scent had lost the fire it had held when Amber Wingate had touched him. The tone of his voice matched the surprisingly soft expression in his dark eyes.

  “I believe you.” Something shifted in his face; he had come to a decision. “I will not be leaving today. Place this woman in custody. Hold her until after the delegates arrive.” Rachel felt magic wrap around her, freezing her.

  Amber sputtered a little. “Ahmad, what are you doing?”

  Ahmad. Rachel burned the name into her memory as he turned and walked away, leaving her locked in place.

  “I have calls to make,” he said. Looking sharply at the owl agent, he ordered, “Do your job, Adway. I presume there is a holding facility here?”

  The Wolven agent nodded. “There’s a jail. But isn’t that a little…” He tried to come up with a word.

  The snake fixed glowing eyes on the owl. “Extreme? Hardly.” He enunciated each word as though speaking to a child. “Do. Your. Job. Or I will feed you to my staff. They enjoy bird meat.” He flicked a glance at the cat and smiled thinly. “Don’t they, Amber?”

  Though he kept walking away, the pressure that kept Rachel’s limbs immobile didn’t waver. She was a statue. “Put some clothes on, Agent. You look like an idiot.”

  The owl shifter blushed, his dark skin turning ruddy, but he made no move to cover anything. Rachel still saw the jeans and plaid shirt—apparently the snake could see through the illusion.

  Amber shook her head, exasperated, then tossed up her hands. “Do it, I suppose. Tamir did say she tried to leave town even though leaves were revoked. But make sure she’s treated well. I’ll talk to Ahmad, see what bug crawled up his butt.”

  Ahmad stalked toward a high-priced SUV with blacked-out windows, his white robe moving in a breeze that didn’t match the movement of the tree branches overhead. A pale-skinned man with straight jet-black hair met him at the door and opened it. Ahmad whispered something to him as he got into the car, and the other nodded. Once he’d shut the vehicle’s door behind the snake, the black-haired man walked toward Rachel and the Wolven agent, a smug half smile on his face. The owl agent swore under his breath.

  Crap. It’s that bear agent. It has to be.

  When he drew near, his scent confirmed her supposition. The moment he took hold of her arm, and not lightly, the magical hold released, so abruptly that her legs gave way. Tamir’s grip held her up painfully, and she made an involuntary movement that was part discomfort and part anger. Getting her feet under her, Rachel tried to pull away, but it was no use.

  The owl agent reached for her other arm. “Hey, hey. Ahmad said to take her into custody, not treat her like a war criminal.”

  “You’re going to put me in jail? Really?” She still couldn’t believe how bad this day was going.

  Tamir tightened his fingers, digging into her biceps, as they began to march her the hundred or so yards to the police station. “I will be quite pleased to do so. Feel free to struggle. It will excite the snakes. They like their food to wiggle.”

  Rachel’s eyes flicked to the SUV, which was surrounded by men she assumed were Ahmad’s fellow snakes. They did seem to be watching her closely. Crap.

  As they neared the police station, Rachel’s nose filled with the lingering smell of gunpowder from when Claude Kragan had blown a hole right through the floor of the building’s main room. She could tell Adway and Tamir could smell it by the way each of them paused for a second, nostrils flared. Rachel loved the scent, because it reminded her that Monk and Gabriel were gone.

  Luna Lake’s former police chief had kept Rachel captive in that basement for a good portion of the past decade, for days at a time. The former mayor had tortured her friend Claire in a secret room under the stairs that even Rachel hadn’t known existed. It had taken the better part of the last month for the staircase to be replaced and the lower level of the building cleared of the ex-rulers’ little den of iniquity, but now the jail was back in commission.

  Even with the town’s low crime rate, they had to have a jail. Otherwise the county would require that prisoners be sent to the county seat in Republic. That would never work—any Sazi in a human prison when the moon was full would be exposed as a monster and probably killed, and the entire Luna Lake community could be endangered. Still, Rachel had had her fill of the building and wasn’t happy to be dragged into it once more.

  Ray Vasquez, the acting police chief, was sitting at his desk when she and the two Wolven agents entered. Marilyn Bearbird, his lieutenant and the town’s medic, was at another desk. Both looked curiously at the newcomers.

  Everything smelled of the fresh pine that had been used to repair the floor and walls, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the scent of old blood and pain that still hung in the air. And angry cat. Lots of angry cat. Like Monk, Ray was a cat, in his case a Belizean panther. When he’d taken charge, one of the first things he did was apologize to all the victims. Not that what happened to them was his fault, but it impressed Rachel that he’d owned his own failure.

  “I should have noticed it, Rachel. Damn it! I should have stopped it. There aren’t enough words for me to apologize enough.” Rachel had liked him ever since.

  The police chief walked toward the front counter, his expression serious. His hand hovered near his sidearm, and suspicion rode the breeze from the spinning overhead fan to Rachel’s nose.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen? You okay, Rachel?”

  Tamir pushed her forward, pulling her out of Adway’s grip. “Councilman al-Narmer wants this one locked up until the delegates arrive.”

  “This one has a name, you know,” Rachel said sharply, pulling away from him and pushing through the swinging gate. “Put me in a cell, Ray. I’m sick of dealing with these assholes.”

  Ray put a hand on her shoulder and guided her to the chair beside Marilyn’s station. The medic looked her up and down, automatically checking to see if she was okay.

  “Sit here for a second, Rachel,” Ray said. He looked at the Wolven agents. “What’s the charge?”

  Adway let out a snort. “None I know of. Just the whim of a councilman.”

  Facing Adway, Tamir crossed his arms over his chest. “You make it sound like there needs to be more of a reason.”

  With a barking laugh, Adway said, “Oh, I know there usually isn’t. But there should be.”

  Ray let out a loud sigh. “I can hold her for a few hours, but after that, someone is going to have to give me a good reason to keep her. I’ll talk to the councilman myself if I have to—this is my jurisdiction, after all. You two can leave now.”

  The Wolven owl shifter shook his head.

  “I’ll be guarding the door, Chief,” he said, his tone firm. “The councilman she pissed off was the snake. I think his decision was bullshit, but I can’t change it. I can give an early warning if he comes back in a bad mood.”

  Getting to her feet, Marilyn said, “Oh, the smell will be warning enough, Agent. I picked up the scent of viper the second they arrived. It gets any stronger … I’ll know.”

  She led Rachel to the back of the room, where the door to the cells was. The young owl was glad the cells weren’t in the basement anymore—at least now a prisoner could see daylight and stars, since there were windows to the outside. Rachel had even helped paint the walls pale peach. But the moment she passed through the door into the little hall, the thick cinder-block closed in around her, pressed against her senses. She’d been held prisoner far too long, too often. And if the snake wanted her, bars weren’t going to keep him out.

  Her heart pounded. “Marilyn, I don’t know if I can do this,” she said in a choking whisper. The cells were so small—like the ones in the cave—and the lighting was indirect enough that the enclosures seemed shadowed despite the sun shining outside. It had been so long that she didn’t think those images still haunted her, but something about seeing and smelling the snake had brought it all back.

  “R
achel? Is that you?” Denis called from down the hall, shattering the illusion. He was serving a ten-day sentence for vandalism. Rachel’s muscles relaxed. At least she wasn’t going to be completely alone.

  “Yeah, it’s me, Denis,” she called back, then asked Marilyn, “Would it be okay if I said hi?”

  The golden eagle shifter nodded. “Sure. You’re not a prisoner, and he’s barely one.” They walked down the narrow hallway, their footfalls echoing.

  The sixteen-year-old stood at the front of his cell, hands clutching the bars almost desperately. His ash blond hair fell long across one eye and was short above the ears and had gone stringy with dirt and sweat. His skin was so pale he nearly matched Scott. “Man, am I glad to see you! I’m going nuts in here. No TV, no Internet, not even an iPod.”

  Marilyn gave him a long-suffering look. “It’s not a hotel, Denis. It’s jail. Punishment. Hopefully, the quiet time has given you a chance to think about your life and where you want it to go.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I’m pretty sure I know where I want it to go. Anywhere but Luna Lake. This town sucks rocks.”

  Rachel couldn’t help but agree. But she wasn’t going to talk about leaving with Marilyn standing right there.

  “Marilyn?” Ray called.

  “Be right there.” She opened the door to the cell next to Denis’s. They wouldn’t be able to see each other because of the concrete wall separating the cells, but they could talk. It took a surprising amount of courage to step into the little room, and Rachel’s whole body flinched when the door clanked shut behind her.

  “I’ll call Mary,” Marilyn said, referring to the wife of the postmaster, who provided meals for the town’s prisoners. “She’ll make you up a nice lunch and dinner. I’m sure this will all be worked out by morning, Rachel. Just relax. If you start feeling anxious, give a shout and I’ll come keep you company. And I’ll make sure nobody bothers you.

  After Marilyn left and closed the outer door, a strange stillness settled over the space. Rachel heard nothing but her own breathing—and Denis’s. No sounds from outside the building or even from the main room. Being an omega, she really didn’t know much about the magical side of shifting, but it sure felt like a spell to her.