by E. A. Copen
“When in reality, you’ve destroyed my case, killed the witnesses, and burned my evidence?” I frowned at him. “So much for justice. You’re as manipulative as everyone else.”
“I never claimed not to be, only to be doing it for the right reason.” His smile faded, the wrinkles in his forehead growing deeper. “Agent Black, do you play chess?”
“Not well,” I mumbled. “And I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“I’m not surprised. Grahm and I have been playing for some time. The country has been our board. So far, all we’ve managed to move in the game are pawns. What you did by so graciously butting in is bring a gun to a chess game. Now, you can’t very well wave a gun around without using it and still be taken seriously, can you?” He dropped his cigarette to the floor and stomped on it. “Find Warren. Make sure he doesn’t leave Concho County alive. I’ll make sure that opens up an avenue for a legitimate investigation into Senator Grahm.”
“And if we don’t?” I matched his gaze and held it.
“Grahm has his queen and I have mine, but don’t think for a moment I won’t sacrifice a queen. I’ve already traded a bishop and have yet to take a pawn. Either you fall in line, or I’ll see to it that all your friends gathered around this table answer for their crimes. And there are several murderers sitting at this table. That’s a capital crime in Texas.”
I shifted my hand to place it over Sal’s, knowing that’s who he was referring to. If I didn’t do as I was told, he’d see to it that Sal was put on Death Row for murdering those two Vanguard. My back was to the wall. I might not have been happy about the way Dick forced my hand, but it didn’t mean Warren didn’t deserve what was coming.
“You need to let us bury our dead first,” I said, turning back to Dick.
“Any time you waste is your own. The risk is yours, as is the reward.”
“Reward?” Sal’s hand closed around mine. “What reward? From my end, it looks like we’re all getting screwed.”
“I’ll give you the one thing in the whole universe that can kill a Lord of Faerie.”
“Claíomh Solais,” Creven said through gritted teeth. “The Sword of Light. That’s why he wants it so bad. He’d remove the one thing that can kill him from play.”
“It’s why he told Warren about me.” I stared at my hands. My mouth felt dry. I could feel the images lurking just on the other side of my awareness. If I closed my eyes, even for a second, that’s what I would see. It was always there. I had to keep my mind on something else or they would take over. “I wouldn’t bring it to him.”
“The sword is in my possession,” Dick said. “And if you want it, you’ll follow orders.”
Not only was this my chance to stop Warren and strike a major blow to the oppressive forces inside BSI, but if I did as I was told, Dick was going to give me the means to win my fight with Seamus? It felt too good to be true. Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. Warren was powerful, even if he was alone. But we had a means of overcoming his power. Abe and the others had done it somehow.
“I know you’re also responsible for the shadow fire that I have.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
“Why me? Have you been protecting me all this time just for this?”
Dick fiddled with the buttons on his jacket. “I haven’t been protecting you for this. I’m using you to win. There’s a difference. Don’t forget it.” Once he’d buttoned his jacket, he stood straighter. “You’ll be escorted from this building, blindfolded just like when you came in. Shortly after your release, you’ll be given the tools necessary to locate Warren. The bodies of your fallen friends will be returned to you and Officer Espinoza will be released into Master Kelley’s care. This is, of course, with the understanding that you were never here, you’ve received no orders or information, and I don’t exist. I will have extra eyes and ears inside the reservation to make sure we all hold to our ends of the deal. Do we all understand one another?”
Heads reluctantly bobbed around the table.
Dick smiled. “Good. Have a nice afternoon.” He turned on his heel and marched confidently out of the room.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“I can’t believe she’s gone.” Ed clenched his hands into fists as they rested on his knees.
Dick had kept his word. We’d been loaded up into the armored cars, dark hoods over our faces, and dropped off inside the reservation. Somehow, they’d gathered all our trucks, cars, and motorcycles into one place and parked them on the street in front of Doc’s clinic. Well, the cars that remained. Apparently, Angel’s car had been smashed up when they came to rescue me.
That night, nobody felt like being alone so they all decided to pow-wow at Sal’s place to try and grasp the situation.
Nobody but me, of course. All I wanted was to fall in bed and cry until I fell asleep. Inside, I felt broken, violated in ways I hadn’t thought possible. Even free, I felt helpless.
Everyone else gathered around the sofa, pulling chairs from the kitchen to make up for the minimal seating. Nina, Valentino and Leo, who had sat out the raid on the compound took over cleaning, cooking, and helping with Mia. Hunter stood, positioned in front of me protectively, arms crossed while Sal had an arm around me from the other side. The faint buzz of healing magick vibrated around where his hand made contact with my back.
Nobody could look at Ed. He was still mostly beside himself with grief.
Ed took a deep breath. “I don’t even know who to contact. I don’t think she had family.”
“She didn’t.” I looked at my hands and swallowed the tightness in my throat. “And as far as I know, neither did Reed.”
I jumped when Angel slammed her fist into her palm. “You idiots. You’re their family. There’s no reason to sit around lamenting what’s been done. Ed, I know how you feel. I lost someone I loved once, too.”
Bran, who stood behind Angel, squeezed her shoulder.
She put her hand on top of his before continuing. “We all have. It doesn’t stop hurting. You just get better at hiding the pain. I didn’t know either of them real well, but I know you guys. We’re all hurting. We need to heal before we can move on. That’s what a funeral is for. Saying your goodbyes, punctuating the sentence of your past relationship and looking forward to the next. The details don’t matter. Hell, we’ve got everyone who cares right in this room. There’s no reason to get caught up in details. Let’s go to the church. Invite the whole town. Come together for once instead of tearing each other apart, especially in light of all that’s happened.”
“Do you really think it’s that simple?” Ed shook his head.
“No, I don’t. Nothing ever is. The healing and coping takes time, but in that time we will find something to focus our energy on, like finding and killing the one responsible for all this.”
Sal withdrew his hand. “Judah’s still hurt. Half of us are. I don’t know that anyone is in any shape to be going after this guy. He’s still at full power.”
I stood and felt all eyes on me. “No choice, not if I want to beat Seamus in three months.”
“Judah, you’ve got three months,” Sal said. “There’s still time.”
I looked to Creven, who sat cross-legged on the floor, his staff across his knees. “Creven?”
The elf huffed out a sigh. “While she’s improved a lot over the last few months, it isn’t enough. I’ve fought Seamus and lost in my time, and there are other Lords of Faerie who would cower at the very idea of crossing Finvarra. The old legends made him a god for a reason. Remember that he can raise legions of the dead to fight at his side. Without the Sword of Light, no one stands a chance at beating him.”
“Besides, did you miss the part where Dick threatened all of us if we didn’t do it?” I gestured wide. “I want to grieve for our fallen, too, but every moment we aren’t actively hunting and fighting Warren is a moment he has to plan his escape.” I drew in a deep breath to calm the shaking in my legs. “I’ll handle everything.”
“Mom, you don’t have to shoulder this alone.” Hunter put a hand on my shoulder. “You write down who I need to call to make arrangements and I’ll do it.”
“I can make and print programs.” Ed rubbed his eyes. They were red and swollen. “Maybe find a few songs I know Mara liked.”
“I can go up the chain, see who in the church would want to come down and conduct something for Reed,” Valentino volunteered.
Several people turned to look at him. He shrugged. “What? I might not be a good Catholic, but I’m still Catholic.”
“The pack will help with expenses,” Sal offered.
“No, they won’t.” Creven crossed his arms. “Marcus has money to spare. I say tap that resource. I’ll get him to pay for whatever you need.”
Daphne stood from her folding chair next to Shauna. “And in the meantime, if anyone wants someone to talk to, come and find me.” She looked directly at me and offered a sympathetic smile.
“And if you need something to punch, I’ve got the gym.” Shauna nodded in my direction. “There’s more than one way to get therapy.”
My eyes watered. Even after all they’d been through on my behalf, they were all still willing to give more when I needed it. I pushed away the tears. “We’ll schedule everything for tomorrow. Make sure the whole town knows. Then, we go and get Warren.”
Everyone murmured their agreement and then, without many more words, they rose and began to file out.
I sank back to the sofa, wincing when the move jarred my arm. Dammit, I needed to get better by tomorrow. How was that even going to be possible? My head was a jumbled mess. I was an emotional wreck, barely holding it together, and my arm still hadn’t healed.
“Judah?”
I opened my eyes as both Sal and Hunter stepped in front of me, growling at Abe as he approached. He’d been allowed to come into our home only because I insisted. Sal was not happy with him for breaking my arm.
He removed his hat and turned it in his hands, a sheepish look on his face. It didn’t look good on him. “A moment of your time? In private?”
“No way in hell I’m letting her—”
I cleared my throat loudly and Sal stopped. “I can decide for myself, Sal.”
He dropped the pointed finger he had in Abe’s face and lowered his head in submission.
“Anything you can say to me, you can say in front of Sal and Hunter, Abe.”
Abe glanced from Sal to Hunter. “Not this. This is for your ears only.”
I frowned. The way he said it, I knew it was a message from Dick. There weren’t many private places in a house full of werewolves, not with their hearing as good as it was, but there was one place I could go.
I stood and pushed past Abe, motioning for him to follow. We went down the hall to Hunter’s room. The sour smell of teenage boy and old socks wafted out when I opened the door. Abe wrinkled his nose.
“You want to talk, this is the only place we’ll get any privacy,” I said.
Abe sighed and stepped in.
I followed and shut the door behind me. Once inside, I turned to the shelf behind the door and switched on Hunter’s stereo system, turning it up.
Abe’s hands went to his ears. “What is that?”
“I believe it’s what kids call music these days. Now, lower your voice. Read my lips if you have to. It’s the only way to make sure they don’t hear.”
He lowered his hands and shifted his coat. “First, I am to extend an offer to you on behalf of Marcus. He has offered the use of an experimental treatment to accelerate the healing in your arm. The effects are temporary, however, but it can buy you a few hours of time at your full potential.”
I glanced down at my arm. It sounded too good to be true, especially the part about it being an experimental treatment. It’d probably come out of Han and LeDuc’s research, the same research that had created Warren. But it might be my only chance at winning a fight against him.
“What’s the catch?” I narrowed my eyes at Abe, scrutinizing his every move.
“The offer is only good until dawn.”
“Dammit!” At the volume I shouted, there was no way they hadn’t heard me. “What happened to Dick’s promise that we could bury the dead, rest and recover?”
“Would you have them join you in your hunt?” Abe shrugged. “An injured alpha werewolf and his inexperienced pack, the packless wolf and the bear shifter who are nursing injuries of their own? Or were you counting on your son as back up?”
“What about Ed? He deserves to be in on this.”
Abe shook his head. “You must leave all the werewolves out. Claws and teeth on the body will only draw attention to the pack, exactly where you do not want it to go. For the cover story in place to work, it must be you who kills him, Judah. Ed will not understand this. The wolf in him wants vengeance. If you take him, if you let him kill Warren, we cannot protect him.”
“I’m not sure I can take him on my own, Abe. Look at what happened last time. He made a mess of me.” I placed the palm of my hand against my aching head.
Abe gripped both of my shoulders firmly. “You will not go alone. You will have me and the elf. The others cannot know.” He took a folded slip of paper from the inside pocket of his coat and held it out to me between his second and third fingers. “Come here at the time listed. A car will pick you up.” He walked past me.
“Abe?” I turned to find him standing with his hand on the doorknob, one eyebrow arched. “Thanks for trying to save me, even if you did break my arm.”
His lips turned up in a smile that showed his fangs. “It is good to know how much you can get back up from. However, I think next time I will have to break both your arms and maybe a leg if I want to stop you.”
I turned off the stereo as soon as Abe was gone and unfolded the paper. The address he’d listed wasn’t far, just far enough that Sal wouldn’t hear the car door. So long as I managed to get out of the house without being detected, it’d be easy.
The paper was suddenly warm in my hand, and then outright hot. I dropped it, flinching when the paper burst into flame. It hung in the air a moment before the bright, intense fire turned it to ash that fell to the floor.
Sal and Hunter were waiting for me when I came out, arms crossed, chins raised. Hunter might have been a smaller, paler carbon copy of Sal. It was almost cute.
“Well?” Hunter demanded. “What did he have to say?”
I knew better than to try and lie to two werewolves, so I skirted the truth. “He had a message from Dick, a work-related message. Sorry, but I can’t tell you. Don’t worry so much, guys. The worst thing that could possibly happen has already happened.”
I mumbled the last line as I walked over to where Mia sat with her coloring books. Crayons were strewn all around her in a rainbow of repetitive patterns. She gripped a purple crayon with her whole fist and scribbled away at the page, tongue out, pigtails waving. “Hey, kid. Long time no see.”
She didn’t look up.
“Mind if I color with you?”
She put down the purple crayon in front of me and took up a blue one. I fumbled to grab the purple crayon and put it to the page.
That’s as far as I got before the next barrage of images hit me. For a long moment, I was back in the dark cell, shaking and bleeding. Alone. All alone.
A new pressure introduced itself on the back of my hand and I snapped back to the present with a gasp. Mia was staring at me, her brilliant brown eyes shining with a hint of gold. Her face was full of concern that was beyond her years for a moment, reminding me too much of her father’s worry-laden features. Then, she tilted her head to the side and smiled. “C is for crayon.”
I couldn’t help but smile back and pat her on the head. “You’re right, Mia. It most certainly is.”
Chapter Thirty
All through the rest of the day, I alternated between periods of intense business and restless napping. Once I gave Hunter and Sal a list of all the places they needed to call to begin
funeral arrangements for Reed and Mara, I shut the bedroom door and went digging through the closet. I searched through shoeboxes and suitcases, wincing whenever something struck my broken arm. It still hurt through the cast. That was one thing I’d be glad for, anyway. Having a broken arm sucks.
I’d reached the back of the closet without finding what I was looking for and was about to give up when the bedroom door opened and Sal walked in, closing it behind him. “Looking for these?” He held up three white envelopes with names written on them. They were the letters I’d written to him, Hunter, and Mia the last time I thought I wasn’t coming back from a battle.
My shoulders slumped. “How did you know?”
“Because I know you,” he said, lowering the envelopes. “And I know how people like Dick Richardson work. He wants to frame someone for this, someone who isn’t a werewolf. That means you have to go in without us.”
I pushed a box back into the closet. “Are you going to try and stop me?”
“You know better than that.” He sat down on the floor across from me and reached out to hold my hand. I turned and tried to catch his eyes, but they were fixed on the floor. “Everyone I’ve tried to protect just gets hurt.”
I squeezed his hand. “Maybe you’re trying just a little too hard to protect us, Sal. We all need room to breathe.”
“Chanter was the only lead I’ve ever followed. When I took over, I thought I would fix things, do all the things he was too tired, sick or busy to do. Now, I’m tired and busy too, and people I love are hurt because of it. Because I’m not strong enough.”
I touched his cheek and tugged his head up so that I could look him in the eyes. There was a time when doing that would have been dangerous, when he might have seen it as a challenge and I would have been too afraid. Now, it was different.
There’s something special about looking into the eyes of someone you love and someone who, in return, loves you back. There’s both a deep, searing pain in your chest and an icy chill. Your heart skips a beat and floats into your throat. When it comes back down, it’s with the pace of a runner’s pulse.