He did not answer. Nothing he said would convince her. But he knew that there was more to Horngate than most covens. There was friendship and loyalty and a sense of doing what was right. He wanted that. Max had it and did not know how valuable it really was.
Max finished applying the salve and straightened, wiping her fingers on her pants and screwing the lid back on the jar. “That should help. One more stop and we can go find cover for the day.” She glanced over her shoulder at the orchard behind. Smoke made it hard to see the trees. Her mouth tightened. “In a few hours this place is going to be charcoal.”
She slammed his door and got behind the wheel. They reached the driveway to Julian Springs Orchard, and she turned in without slowing down. When they neared the house, she turned off, driving across the lawn to the grotto. The truck bumped over the uneven ground and the debris from the house.
“What are you doing?” Alexander asked.
“We came for the Hag and we’re not leaving without her.”
“Is there time to search for her?” he asked, sensing a sudden brittleness in Max. She was walking the edge of something and he was not sure what. It felt dangerous. Her mood had shifted in that moment of looking at the smoke, and he had no idea why. Her face had pulled into harsh lines and she had gone inward again. He was beginning to understand that this was a mechanism for protecting herself, and from where he stood, she needed protecting. She was brave and capable and tough. But she also had a habit of flinging herself into danger to protect her own with no consideration for herself.
He snorted softly. Somehow she had decided he was one of hers. Enough that she had defied Giselle and helped fight off Kev and treated his wounds. And she thought he was insane.
She pulled the truck to a sharp stop and jammed it into park, but did not shut off the engine. Ash fell thickly, coating the hood and the windshield. She said nothing as she jumped out. Alexander followed, stumbling. The ointment she had used had eased the pain of his wounds, but he was still as ungainly and weak as a newborn calf.
He followed her around the truck. She had dropped the tailgate and was wrestling with a rock’the same one she had been standing in front of when he had attacked her from behind. Her muscles corded and bunched as she lifted it on end. For its size, it seemed remarkably heavy.
Alexander jogged forward and grappled the stone with her. “A rock?” he asked as he helped her lift it. They staggered toward the rear of the truck.
“The Hag,” Max corrected raspily as they set their burden on the tailgate. The rear of the truck sank beneath its weight. “Legends say she usually spends summers as a stone. I don’t know how the redcaps lured her out in human form or what she’s doing in SoCal, though.”
“How can you be sure it is her?”
“Blood ties. I can feel her.”
They pushed the stone inside and closed up the rear before clambering back into the truck.
“Hold on tight,” she said as she put the truck in gear and turned it sharply around. “I think we can make Escondido. I’d rather not spend the day in the box in back.”
The truck did not take the turns as well as the low-slung Celica. But neither did it slow to go up hills. Max drove like a demon, sliding over into the left lane to take the corners faster. Luckily there was no other traffic.
Twenty miles brought them into Ramona. Max did not slow down as she blew through town, passing several hotels. As if sensing Alexander’s curiosity, she said, “Too close to the fires here, and Escondido is bigger. If Selange comes looking for us, I’d like to be somewhere less obvious.”
Dawn was starting to break when she pulled into a Super 8 in Escondido. She left the truck running and pulled a credit card from a pocket on the visor. “Wait here,” she told him, then was gone.
Five minutes later she returned. “Room 126 around back.”
She parked and handed Alexander the door key. As she stepped out, despite the covering smoke, blisters rose on her skin from the creeping light.
“Fuck. Hurry.”
She tossed him his bag and grabbed two of her own from the floorboards behind her seat. She followed close on his heels as he let them in. He went to the window and drew the shade closed. Max was unzipping one of her packs. She pulled out two rolls of duct tape and a folded aluminum blanket. She pulled off long strips of tape and hung them from the edge of the desk by the window in readiness. Then she shook out the blanket. It was big enough to cover the wall. She folded it in half and began tacking it down over the window, covering the curtain, too. Alexander grabbed the tape to help. When it was hung, they went over the edges to fill in any gaps. Then Max taped over the cracks in the door.
When she was through, she sat on one of the two queen-size beds with a sigh, scratching her arm. “That was too close.”
“That was too close?” Alexander asked incredulously. “Not taking on Selange’s Shadowblades in Julian? Or getting out of the Conclave alive? Or standing between Giselle and the angel? Or what about getting the hailstone out of that damned box?”
She shrugged, the corner of her mouth moving up in a half smile. “I wouldn’t complain about having a boring couple of days,” she said wryly.
“May I ask you a question?”
“You can ask,” she said with a wary look.
“The moonlight burned you. And outside’you are more susceptible to sunlight than any Shadowblade I have ever met. Why?” Her expression closed like a door shutting. He sighed. He’d crossed the line again and bounced into the wall of thorns she surrounded herself with. But then she surprised him again.
“The honest answer is that I don’t know. I’m not even sure Giselle does. If you figure it out, let me know.” With that she stretched and stood. “I’m going to shower. You shouldn’t until the salve finishes doing its job on those wounds.” She rifled through the bag that had contained the blanket and duct tape. “Here. Eat these.” She tossed him a ziplock bag of powerbars.
“I am getting really tired of these,” he said with a curled lip.
“Better than nothing. Should have snagged the cooler out of the truck.”
She grabbed the other bag and disappeared inside the bathroom. Moments later he heard the toilet flush and the shower start.
He kicked off his shoes and lay on the bed nearest the window and stared up at the popcorn ceiling, slowly chewing one of the bars and listening to the water, thinking of it flowing over her skin, between her breasts’He broke off the thought before he could pursue it. That is not going to happen. Not in this lifetime. He rolled on his stomach to hide the sudden swell in his groin. Max had not come out of the bathroom before he fell asleep.
He sat up straight when she shook him awake.
“We’ve got a half hour before we can head out. You’ll want to clean up. Eat some more. You didn’t get much this morning.”
Alexander swung his legs off the bed and stood. The crusted mess on his chest and shoulders cracked. He looked down at himself. Red stripes remained where Kev had clawed him, and stiff soreness permeated his muscles. He looked at Max. She sat cross-legged on the opposite bed, her elbows resting on her knees. She looked drawn, but the bruises on her neck from the noose had faded to yellow splotches. Her fingers shook and a tremor ran through her. Her jaw was set in a tense line.
A thrill of unease ran up Alexander’s spine. “Something wrong?”
“Want me to make a list?”
“I could probably use a scorecard.”
“I called Horngate. No one is answering. I can feel my bindings to Giselle’she’s alive. But something is very wrong.”
Max’s voice was flat, but emotion churned in her eyes. A tremor shook her again. It wasn’t fear’her compulsion spells were hammering on her to get home and protect her witch. They would not stop attacking her during the day when she could not travel. They could literally cripple her before she could get back.
“Are you okay?” he asked, knowing she was not.
“I’ll survive. I always do. Go show
er. I want to get on the road as soon as we can.”
Alexander hesitated, then did as told. Max did not like sympathy. The last time he had offered it, she had nearly torn his throat out. They had a fragile peace between them at the moment, and the last thing he wanted to do was blow it.
They were on the road by eight. The vestiges of the sunset burned Max’s skin as they loaded into the truck. The darkened windows blocked the rays, but it took several minutes before the burn rash subsided.
She drove through a Burger King and they ate while they drove. It wasn’t Alexander’s usual fare’he did not usually like fast food’but he ate the greasy burgers and fries with gusto.
They drove up through Victorville and Barstow, across into Nevada, through Las Vegas and then up into Utah. Max stopped only when she had to for food, fuel, and bathroom breaks. She did not speak, turning inward so deeply Alexander was not sure she could see the road. Tremors continued to ripple through her, though she never acknowledged the fierce pain she must be feeling. At every stop she tried to reach her coven with no success.
They stopped in St. George just before dawn. There was not enough night left to reach another town. Max got a room at the Holiday Inn, then they went to the Wal-Mart and loaded up with food before returning to the room.
Max paced as she ate. Alexander watched her, leaning against the headboard. He was feeling better, though his body still felt unwieldy and weak. Max continue to look drawn, like she’d lost ten pounds just that night.
“Certainly Horngate must be safe. Giselle is a powerful witch with a full coven. Perhaps there is a phone outage in the area?” he suggested, though it was unlikely.
Max’s mouth twisted. She looked at him consideringly, then blew out a slow breath. “Did you hear what the Hag said about a war coming?”
Alexander nodded.
“It’s already begun. That’s what this business with the angel and the scrolls is about. The Guardians are summoning the witches to war. Seems the big guys are pissed at the way humans have been abusing the earth and the way magic is being strangled. They’re planning to exterminate most of humanity in order to bring magic back to the world in a big way. Witches will be their generals and the rest of us their armies. The scroll the angel brought said they’d raze Horngate if Giselle didn’t answer the call to serve. My bet is that the scroll Selange got says something similar.” She scowled at him. “You don’t look all that surprised.”
“When Selange took your hailstone, she said that with it she might be able to defy the Guardians. I added it up and figured they sent the angel.” His eyes narrowed. “But it does not make sense that they would threaten Horngate. If they need covens to serve, why do that?”
“I don’t know. Giselle thinks maybe they destroyed Old Home because Alton wouldn’t cooperate. Though if he did get a scroll, he wasn’t saying.” Max stopped pacing suddenly. “But what if he did? We’re assuming they all said the same thing, but the angel said that the fire was a gift, a threat, and a promise. But for who?” She rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand as if to remove a bad taste, then drank from a bottle of milk. Setting it aside, she stared back at Alexander. “He’s a weasel and he’s up to something. He wanted Giselle to scry before the Conclave’he wanted to weaken her for some reason, or he wanted her to hightail it home. But why? And then, why is Selange resisting? The Guardians could give her a lot of power and she serves them’all witches do.”
“Why does Giselle object?” Alexander countered, and was surprised when she answered.
“She apparently had a vision a while back. She decided she is going to save what she can. Horngate will be a sanctuary.”
He stared, even more certain he had made the right choice to stay with Giselle and Max. Then another thought struck him. “Perhaps that is why they are threatening Horngate. If she does not join the war for the Guardians, then she sets a bad example for other witches. She is very strong. She could cause problems.”
“Against the Guardians? They’ll swat us like a fly.”
But something in her expression told Alexander she did not entirely believe it. There was something she was not telling him.
She blew out a breath. “We need to get home.”
“How much farther?”
“It’s another thousand miles. That’s another night and a half. I don’t know if they can hold off that long’if they are even under attack. With Sunspears and Shadowblades trading off the driving, Giselle should have made it back to Horngate yesterday, and she’ll have strengthened the shield wards. I just don’t know how long the Guardians were going to give her to answer before they attack. And what the fuck is Alton up to?” She shook her head. “I need a shower and sleep. Try to eat. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need all the strength we can muster.”
She strode into the bathroom, leaving Alexander to stew over the new information. He knew why Selange was resisting the call of the Guardians. She was a flesh mage. No matter how much power the Guardians gave her, once humanity was destroyed, she would be entirely dependent on them. She’d fight tooth and claw to avoid that.
He was still staring at the ceiling when Max returned and lay on top of her bed. Soon she was asleep. But it was not peaceful. She shook and her body knotted against the pain of her compulsion spells. He watched her for hours, unable to help her. Sweat gleamed on her skin and she tore at her face and arms with her nails. Then finally, in midafternoon, she seemed to conquer the pain. Her breathing steadied and she stopped struggling, her body going still. It was almost like she fell into a coma. He scowled at her. At this rate, she might be dead before they got to Horngate.
He lay down at last. His last thought before fading away was that Max had said we, like she had accepted him into her Shadowblades. He hoped it was true.
16
THE NEXT NIGHT ALEXANDER BEGAN A CAMPAIGN of asking Max questions as they drove north through Utah and Idaho. He wanted to pull her out of herself. That inward-looking habit could only agitate her compulsion spells, and he did not know how much more she could take. She looked haggard, and her body had been through so much in such a short time that he feared the straw that might break her. He had to be careful, though. At any moment she might shut him down. He had to avoid walking out onto any of her personal minefields. The trouble was, he had no idea where they might lie.
“Tell me about Montana,” he asked after they had eaten their drive-through meal.
He shifted in his seat to watch the play of emotions across her face. She gave him a sidelong glance. Not entirely friendly, but not unfriendly either.
“What do you want to know?”
He shrugged. “Do you like living there?”
“I do. It matches who I am.”
“How so?”
“It can be a harsh, unforgiving place. The Rockies are full of sly, secretive valleys and canyons, the peaks thrusting out like knives. What grows there has to be tough. The forests aren’t easy things. They aren’t lush and green. The trees root into the bones of the mountains, and they don’t invite intrusion. The things that live there are hardy and dangerous’mountain lions, wolves, bears, moose, and elk. Each one knows how to kill to survive. The valleys aren’t much more inviting, though they’ve been tamed by ranchers.” She paused thoughtfully. “I never thought I’d be happy there. Now I can’t imagine being happy anywhere else.”
“Where did you come from before that?” Alexander asked tentatively.
“Nosy today, aren’t you? All right, if we’re going to play the question game, how old are you?”
He let out a silent sigh of relief. She was not shutting him down. “Selange made me in 1904. At that time I was twenty-three years old.”
“You look pretty good for an old geezer,” Max said. “So how did you end up with her?”
Alexander looked down at his hands. He did not often talk about his past. But if he wanted to know more about Max, he would have to give as much as he got. “I was born in Canada in 1881. My parents were Bohemian.
They had emigrated to Kolin in the district of Assiniboia, which today is part of Saskatchewan. They were poor, hardscrabble ranchers. It was a difficult life. My father drank and was sometimes violent. My mother ...she was tough. She left him when I was ten years old. She never came back. I never saw her again. It made my father bitter. He died five years later in a saloon brawl. There was a smallpox epidemic a few years after that, and both my brothers died. I left soon after. I worked herding cattle mostly, then trapping up in Washington and BC. Even did a little searching for gold in California.
“I met Selange in San Francisco. Even then she was a powerful witch. She had come from France ten years or so before. She was hungry to establish a coven in America. There was a lot of free territory’it was all just a matter of staking it out. I had just come in off a tramper down from Seattle. I was footloose’I was not sure what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go. Then I saw her.”
He smiled at the memory with bittersweet emotion. He had been so damned young.
“And?” Max prompted.
“And I was lost. I followed her carriage. I could not help myself. I did not know it then, but she had glamoured me. She had need of Shadowblades in this new land.
“One day she invited me into her carriage and into her bedroom. Then she asked me if I wanted her gifts. I said yes to everything. Anything. A man like me could not hope to touch a woman like that, and there I was in her bed. The bedsheets alone cost more than I was worth. Everything smelled’like a garden. Within a month I was a Shadowblade.”
“Well, at least you got laid. Giselle just got me drunk,” Max said sourly. “All right. Fair is fair. I grew up in Iowa. Went to college, and my roommate turned out to be a witch. One night we went to a bar and she started asking me all these questions. You know, what if I could never get sick, never grow old ...I said that would be great. Next thing you know, I woke up on her altar.”
“When was that?”
“Nineteen seventy-nine.”
Bitter Night: A Horngate Witches Book Page 22