Sheila handed Eliza a gun?
My surprise must have registered clearly.
“Jules, darling,” drawled my best friend, “do shut your mouth. They’re Tim’s. He showed me earlier. There’s one for you, too, and one to leave with the boys. The man travels well-armed, I’ll say that much.”
“Do you know how to fire a gun?” Eliza asked.
I hedged slightly. “Well, I’ve done it before. Sheila, I didn’t know you had experience with guns?”
She smiled. “I have three older brothers, as you know. One of them is a cop who feels strongly that everyone should know how to use a gun. He started taking me to the shooting range when I was about fifteen. I’m out of practice, though.”
Not so out of practice from what I could see. She handed me a gun, showed me quickly how to turn the safety on and off, showed me it was loaded, and demonstrated a proper shooting stance, reminding me to be careful of the recoil. Uh-huh. I made mental notes on all of that, desperate not to make a mistake, but dearly hoping I wouldn’t have to use the gun. Not, uh, to shoot an actual person or anything.
With that, we were off into the night.
Chapter Nineteen
Walking through the lobby of the hotel with a gun stuck into the pocket of my jean jacket, through a bank of slot machines hosting carousing gamblers and stuffed visitors to the all-you-can-eat seafood buffet was perhaps the most surreal experience of my life. I felt sure the sheen of sweat on my forehead—mostly due to nerves, but also slightly due to the fact I wore a jean jacket in Las Vegas in the summer—was a giveaway and we would have a horde of security guards swarming over us. But somehow no one gave our group a second glance. Except for the men we passed, most of who were incapable of not noticing Sheila. Eliza strode beside me, seeming calm and competent. Sheila looked rather exuberant, though I thought it was just her natural way of dealing with the same anxiety I felt. Her eyes were wide and dazzling, she had a crooked smile on her face, and she walked with purposeful energy. I tried to muster the same feeling—that “game on” feeling—and envisioned what it would be like if we were in a movie. The three of us. Were, Witch, and human. Three powerful women taking matters into our own hands and seeking justice. Except, well, I wasn’t so sure I was powerful. Being a dark moon wolf meant nothing. Two powerful women and one woman filled with determination more aptly described us.
Mac, I reminded myself. To steel my nerves, I thought about Mac, all the qualities I’d loved, those I’d hated, all taken away from me and from Carson—little Carson—by this ruthless group of…whoever they were. Well, we intended to make sure they didn’t get Kayleigh, too. We’d find them and set the whole weight of the council after them.
Unless the council was in on it, but now was not the time to think about such things.
Ordering us to wait in the lobby, Eliza brought the car around, then slid to the passenger’s seat and gripped the directions firmly in her hand. I pulled the car out into traffic and, just as quickly, found myself stymied by what looked like a parking lot. A parking lot of cabs full of drunken people. The restless energy we felt made being stuck in traffic even worse than usual.
“Dammit,” I said, hitting my palm on the steering wheel. “Don’t they know we’ve got places to be, people to rescue?”
“Calm down.” Sheila reached up and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s not going to help anyone if we get in an accident. Actually, since we’re all carrying illegally concealed weapons, please, please don’t get in an accident.”
“Turn right as soon as you can,” said Eliza. “It’s fine. I’ll call Tim and tell him we’re running later than we thought, so he doesn’t worry.”
While Eliza talked on the phone with Tim, we managed to crawl about a block, and I made a quick and dirty right turn onto another street. I followed her prompts and we were soon well on our way to meeting Tim.
****
It took us another fifteen minutes to reach where Tim waited. His car sat in the parking lot of a strip mall about two blocks away from the infamous Fish Fry sign. The red neon blinked at us, looking to my high-strung nerves like a warning. Or a blood stain.
Tim sat in his car and he lowered his window as we pulled up beside him. His amiable mien was in direct opposition to the seriousness of our mission.
“Okay,” he said without preamble, “Sheila, from your description, I guess the house Kayleigh’s being held in is either down this street or that street.” He gestured.
When none of us disagreed, he continued, “Eliza and I will drive down both streets. She’ll cloak us in darkness, and we’ll see if we can find the exact house. There should be signs, both scent and sight. Sheila and Julie, you stay here and lock the car until we return. If we don’t come back within fifteen minutes, I want you both to go back to the hotel and leave Las Vegas immediately. Don’t go home—and don’t tell me where you might go. If it comes to that, you can leave this,” he handed over a piece of paper, “at the front desk. I left a voicemail for my council contact instructing him to go there for a message if he hasn’t heard from me by tomorrow.”
Sheila and I nodded. I, for one, didn’t know if I trusted my voice at that moment. Eliza slipped out of our car and into the front seat of Tim’s. Sheila moved up to the front and gave me a tight smile.
“Okay,” said Tim, “We’ll be back within fifteen minutes.” Eliza waved and I lifted my hand in return.
Sheila and I both looked at the clock, nine thirty-three.
When I raised my head to watch Tim and Eliza leave, I didn’t see their car and I panicked slightly before realizing Eliza must have pulled darkness over them. Hopefully, they’d be on the lookout for other cars, since drivers couldn’t see them.
I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel.
I pushed my curls behind my ears, hard, wishing my hair didn’t always fall in my face.
I took off my glasses and cleaned them carefully on my t-shirt.
I chastised myself for using my t-shirt when I should use the special glasses-cleaning cloth.
Nine thirty-six.
“This sucks,” I said to Sheila.
“Aptly put.”
Nine thirty-eight. Five minutes had passed.
Every time a car passed on the road, I tensed slightly, hoping no one thought it weird our car was parked here.
At nine forty-two, my cell phone rang and I nearly jumped out of my skin. The incongruity of my ringtone—Big Bird singing “Somebody Come and Play”—set Sheila into a wild fit of giggling. Catching my breath, I saw the call came from an unknown number with a Wyoming area code.
“Shut up,” I hissed to Sheila, who continued laughing. “Hello?”
“Julie?” Ian said.
“Ian, what’s wrong?” Breath left my lungs.
“Nothing—I mean, I don’t know—I mean…. Is Dave with you?”
“What? No, Dave’s not with us. What the hell are you talking about?”
Ian paused and then spoke so quickly I hardly understood him. “He was right here, he was right here, still sleeping, everything was fine, he was right here on the bed, and I went to the bathroom, and I was only gone, like a second or something, but when I came out, he was gone and Dave’s gone, too, and I didn’t know where they went or if Dave followed you or what? Or why he would bring him? Or if someone—”
“Ian!”
Ian stopped talking.
“Are you saying Carson’s gone?”
“Yes, Carson and Dave!”
I barely noticed the phone dropping from my hand. I heard Ian’s voice and then Sheila’s, but I sat there, frozen. In the back of my mind, I vaguely noticed myself thinking, “Oh, this is what happens when someone goes into shock,” but I couldn’t connect that thought to myself or to my body, which seemed to have gone completely cold. All I heard was the roar of blood in my ears and my heart beating incredibly loud and fast.
“Julie! Julie!” It took me a second to realize Sheila had been calling my name and even then, I
couldn’t respond, couldn’t remember even how to respond. Then Sheila shook me, her hands on my shoulders, shaking me hard and I fell against her and realized I was screaming.
“Julie.” She held me against her and hugged me tight, saying over and over again, “It’s going to be okay, he’s going to be okay; we’ll find him.”
After several minutes, I pulled back. “Oh my God, Sheila.” My voice sounded pleading, but I’m not sure what I thought she could do. “Oh my God, Carson. My baby, my Carson, Sheila!”
“I know, I know.” She gripped my hand and ignored the fact I spoke like a crazy woman on a soap opera. “Jules, look at me.”
I barely saw her through the tears streaming down my face, but I tried to meet her eyes.
“Julie Hall, I promise you, I promise you we will find him. We will find him.”
She repeated the mantra, holding my gaze, until I finally nodded. I wiped my face with the back of my hand—tears, snot, and all—then blew my nose as Sheila handed me a tissue.
“My God, Sheila,” and I truly meant it, truly meant to reach up in prayer to beseech God, any god, all the gods, “Carson.”
As if I thought the words formed a complete sentence, but I knew Sheila understood.
“We’ll find him,” she said one more time, nodding at me firmly. “I told Ian I’d call him back in two minutes, after we had time to think.”
“Okay. Okay.”
I sank back in my seat. My head felt like it might explode with pain and pressure—the pain of such a violent crying jag; the pressure of emotions I didn’t know how to possibly express. Fresh tears ran down my face but I tried, I really tried to compose myself. To think productively. To do something.
I looked at the clock.
Nine fifty.
It took a beat for me to realize what that meant: seventeen minutes since Eliza and Tim set out. We’d promised to leave after fifteen minutes. Mute, I pointed at the glowing green numbers.
“Nine fifty,” said Sheila, matching me for the ability to state the obvious while somehow sounding surprised. We stared at each other.
From the parking spot next to us came the sound of a car door opening, and I closed my eyes in relief as Tim’s car appeared.
Eliza popped open my car door almost in midsentence. “We found her, I’m sure of it—” She jerked to a halt. “What happened?”
I opened my mouth and then closed it again, not able to utter the words.
“Ian called,” Sheila said, as Eliza’s eyes widened in alarm. “He went to the bathroom for a quick minute and both Carson and Dave disappeared.”
“What?” Tim and Eliza exclaimed.
“There were no signs anyone had been in the room,” Sheila continued. I schooled myself to listen carefully, since I hadn’t had the presence of mind to get the full story when Ian called. “He didn’t scent anyone. Dave didn’t say anything about leaving the room. Ian actually checked the restaurant, thinking perhaps Dave had taken Carson down there for some reason. But neither of them had been there.”
Everyone remained quiet for a moment before Tim spoke, saying out loud our collective thoughts. “Dave kidnapped Carson.”
I made myself stop shaking my head. “It just doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure it does,” Tim said. “If Dave’s our traitor, it makes perfect sense.”
A minute later, something clicked.
I bolted upright in my seat. “He traded him for Ian.”
“What?” Sheila and Eliza said in unison.
“Dave. He traded Carson for Ian. He’s been in league with them all along. He called them on the phone—I heard it—I just didn’t know it at the time. He said they’d done something wrong, it wasn’t supposed to be that way, he promised something about tonight. That’s what it was, that’s what he promised. He promised them Carson.”
“But Dave is pack,” protested Eliza hotly, before stepping backward and throwing up her hands. “Damn that pup. What the hell is he doing?”
To that, we didn’t have a clear answer.
“You even said you couldn’t ‘read’ him,” I reminded Eliza. “That both the pups were extremely agitated. He’s been lying to us this whole time, somehow.”
“Ian is really scared,” said Sheila, directing her attention to Eliza. “He’s alone and he’s frightened, and his best friend may have kidnapped his nephew. I think he needs us—we shouldn’t leave him alone right now.”
Eliza rubbed her face. “If he gets hurt, Erin will kill me.”
Taking that as assent, Sheila said, “I need to call him back. Should I tell him to hop in a cab and come here? Or should one of us go back for him?”
“You go,” I nearly shouted, as inspiration hit. Sheila raised her eyebrows in alarm, obviously wondering if I’d gone off the deep end. “No, Sheila, you go back, go to the hotel and get Ian, and while you’re at the hotel, scry for Carson. Find him. Find out where he and Dave are. There are tons of his things all over the hotel room and you know him well, it’ll be a piece of cake. Right? Please?”
Sheila nodded. “Of course, Jules. I’ll go right now and scry for him and call you right away.”
“Be careful, Sheila. If Dave is in league with these people, they may know about our new hotel. Do your thing and get back to us.” Tim’s mild eyes were unusually intense. To my surprise, he reached over and squeezed her arm.
“Right. Then Ian and I will meet you, where? Back here?”
“Back here in an hour,” instructed Eliza. “Unless we call you first. The three of us will stake out the house where Kayleigh is being held. We’ll find out how many people are in there and figure out the situation.”
I agreed. As much as I wanted to be back at the hotel, the last place Carson was, I knew I would collapse when confronted directly with his absence. Sheila would find him. She promised.
Chapter Twenty
So that was how I found myself in the backseat of Tim’s car, listening to two Weres argue. We parked on the street two doors down from the house holding Kayleigh. With our car wreathed in darkness, the two Werewolves discussed, in very heated voices, whether or not one of them should get out of the car and snoop around the property. Actually, even though I’d pointed out either one of them would be easily sniffed out by the enemy, they weren’t so much arguing about the “whether or not” of the plan, they argued over “who.” Eliza thought she, as full moon, should venture near the house. She claimed she was more likely to keep full darkness about her and she could call the moon in other ways—I assumed by creating more crazies—if threatened by discovery. Tim argued he was the official investigator, highly trained for these types of dangerous situations, and, in fact, in charge of our group. Eliza didn’t seem cowed by any of that, either because she was indeed the stronger Were or because Tim was so mild-mannered it was hard to take him seriously sometimes. I stayed quiet for about five minutes of their spat, then abruptly opened the car door.
“If you two can’t decide, I’ll go.” I had no patience for them. We needed to rescue Kayleigh and Carson, and we needed to do it right then. Since Kayleigh was closer, we’d free her first so we could focus on Carson. Dammit. The plan was obvious. Why were they delaying?
“Julie, get back in the car,” Eliza snapped.
“Wait.” Tim said, eyes narrowed in thought. “No one would expect a human to walk into their safe hold. Maybe, there’s a way this works.”
“Are you crazy? What can Julie do?” Eliza demanded.
“Thanks for the support.”
Tim said, “We know Kayleigh is subjected to medical procedures, multiple bone marrow withdrawals. It would make sense for a medical professional to check on her, make sure her accelerated healing keeps up with the loss of bone marrow.” He looked at us. “Right?”
“Rrrright.” I thought I knew where he was going.
“What if you pose as a nurse, Julie, and enter the house to check on Kayleigh? A direct entry, knock on the door and everything.”
“How am I going
to pose as a nurse?”
Tim studied me. “I think what you’re wearing works—it wouldn’t make sense for you to arrive in scrubs since this is covert. And I have a black bag in the trunk you could carry. It’s for my extra clothes and things, but it looks a medical bag. At a quick glance and if you hold yourself properly….”
Uh-huh. So jeans, my yellow t-shirt, and a black overnight bag would make me look like a nurse?
“Actually,” Eliza said, “I don’t think that’s a bad idea. Here.” She plucked Tim’s cell phone charger from the car floor. “Drape this around your neck and it will look like a stethoscope. Just make sure to keep the ends tucked into your jacket.”
Right. Better and better.
“What if they won’t let me in? What if they won’t leave me alone with Kayleigh? What if…” I ran out of words. Too many what-ifs circled in my mind. Besides, I’m the one who first decided I should check out the house.
“It’s up to you, Julie,” Eliza said in her most serious voice. “If you think you can pull this off, it’s probably our best way to get someone inside the house covertly. If you don’t want to do it, then I—or Tim—will check the perimeter of the house and once we know what we face, we’ll decide if we should make a frontal assault.”
The idea of a frontal assault sounded horrible. I considered, then slowly nodded.
“I can do this.” I lifted my chin and met Eliza’s questioning gaze.
“Good girl,” she said and I snorted. “We’ll be right here, wreathed in darkness. If you need me, just yell. Better yet, try to get near a window or something and then yell, so I can find your precise location.”
This plan contained so many flaws I decided the best thing was not to think about it any further. Hell, at least while I risked my silly life, I would have something else to think about besides Carson.
Carson.
Besides, if something happened to Carson, I wouldn’t care what happened to me anyway.
****
Less than five minutes later, I knocked on the front door of 1107 Deerhollow Road, with a cell phone charger draped around my neck and a small black bag in my hand. I sucked in my stomach, squared my shoulders, and assumed a slightly-bored expression.
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