by Lori Drake
Chris untied his shoes and dropped them on the floor, then stretched out on the narrow mattress. It was lumpy and barely long enough for his tall frame, but he was no princess. Closing his eyes, he slipped out of his body. When he opened his eyes again, he was still in the small guest room. The decor was so muted that he barely noticed the shift in the color scheme, but he didn’t have to look down at his body to know he’d been successful. His emotions were a tangled knot in his chest, annoying but manageable, and the world was fuzzy around the edges, as usual.
Leaving his body behind, Chris set out to explore the house. He drifted through the walls, from room to room. Occupied rooms were more common than empty ones. Some were set up with bunk beds or cots so the space could be shared. Others had just one bed. Most of the cultists were asleep. The ones that weren’t either read or finished up some sort of domestic chore.
His mother lay on the bed in her room across the hall, staring up at the ceiling, wide awake. The way she’d reacted to Marc after he healed her was unnerving as hell. She’d seemed a little more like herself by the time they were separated for the night, but it was still troubling. He longed to talk to her, and cursed their captors for splitting them up. They still had air to clear too, and if they were together, maybe they would’ve been able to work on some sort of escape plan.
Now that he thought about it, that was probably exactly why they’d been separated.
There were a few rooms warded against spirits that he couldn’t enter. By the time he was done searching the house, he suspected Marc, Karina, and Eric were in those rooms, because he hadn’t encountered any of them. He wondered if Eric was sweating bullets, not realizing he was still protected even without the charm Karina had taken from him. Then again, he had no reason to believe Roger could reach him this far south. If he’d been able to, he would have. Chris knew that for certain.
Chris expanded his search outward. The compound wasn’t large, but there was a vast area surrounding it that was completely uninhabited. He remembered Joey telling him that Eastgate was an unincorporated community, so it was likely that the coven was the sum total of its population. There were a few outbuildings—a barn, a garage, a storage shed—and a chain link fence surrounded the perimeter. A large portion of the land had been irrigated and cultivated. Early spring crops were already planted.
Once he’d learned everything he thought he could learn, and familiarized himself enough with his room that he was confident he could jump back with ease, he focused on Joey and took a big step. He found himself in an unfamiliar room. A child’s room, judging from the decor, but there was no child present, just Joey and Dean. Joey lay on the bed, while Dean was stretched out on the floor, wrapped in a sleeping bag. His thirsty eyes lingered on Joey, drinking in the sight of her, scanning for any signs of lingering injury. She looked fine to him, but appearances could be deceiving.
Guilt over leaving her behind reared its ugly head once more. He wanted to think he’d made the right decision in going after Adelaide, but doubt still plagued him. All he’d ended up doing was getting himself captured, after all. Some hero he turned out to be.
Before the situation could devolve into a total pity party, Chris shook himself free of the thoughts clouding his mind and forced his eyes away from Joey.
“Roger, are you here?” Chris asked.
The spirit materialized a few feet away, floating a few inches off the floor. He said nothing, but he was there.
“Is Dean awake?”
Roger shook his head. “No.”
“Can you wake him, please? I need to talk to them.”
He made no move to do so, demanding instead, “Where’s Eric?”
“He’s at the compound. They took his protection from spirits away, but I think he’s in a spirit-proof room right now. Don’t worry. You’ll get your chance. And don’t forget, you promised to help us rescue Mom before you kill him.”
The sprit gnashed his teeth. “I remember.” He looked at Dean and yelled, “Hey, Dean! Wake up!”
Dean snorted awake, blinking in the darkness and rubbing his face. “What?”
On the bed, Joey rolled over and peered down at him. “I didn’t say anything.”
Roger dropped into a squat beside the medium. “Chris is here.”
“Hey,” Chris said, expecting that Dean should be able to hear him, even though he couldn’t see him the way he saw Roger. Whatever veil-piercing ability allowed Dean to see and hear ghosts, when it came to the astral plane, he was blind but not deaf.
Dean sat up and repeated the messages for Joey’s benefit.
“Oh,” Joey said, and rolled onto her back again. Her lack of enthusiasm was like a fist squeezing his heart. “Is Mom okay?”
Chris drifted over and sat on the bed beside her. He reached out a hand to hover over hers. “Tell her Mom’s fine. We’re both fine. And ask her if she’s okay. Tell her I’m sorry I left her, but I knew you were behind us, and Eric was threatening to hurt Mom if I didn’t go.”
Dean relayed the message, and Joey closed her eyes. There was a long pause, and the silence twisted Chris’s stomach into knots.
“I know,” she said eventually. It wasn’t exactly forgiveness, but he’d take what he could get at this point. “Where are you, Chris? Where did he take you?”
“We’re with Madrigal, at his Eastgate compound, I assume.”
“I thought so,” Joey said, nodding. “We’re working on a plan to get you out. I made contact with the nearest pack—the Silver Springs pack—for help. Their Alpha seems okay. He’s letting us crash at his place tonight. Hopefully he’ll come through tomorrow. Just hang tight, okay?”
“I’m trying,” Chris said. It was awkward, having a conversation with her through Dean. But they’d done it before, and managed just fine. “But there’s something else you need to know. Marc—Madrigal—didn’t send Eric to grab Mom and me. He sent him to grab Cathy and me.”
Joey sat up. “Oh, shit. I’ll make sure she knows. As far as I know, she’s still at the house. She should be safe there. Do you know what he wants with you?”
“No, but there’s more to it,” Chris said. He explained Karina’s presence, that he recognized both her and Madrigal from his dreams. He told her about the newer dream he’d had too, about the masquerade dinner.
She listened quietly, but her hand balled into a fist. “Memo to me: don’t consider a career in dream analysis.”
Chris couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s no way either of us could’ve known that they were in my head, manipulating my dreams. Joey, this guy’s crazy powerful. He healed Mom’s hands, and the way she was afterward, it was like some sort of fugue state—like she was perfectly content with being his prisoner for the next hour.”
“Shit, that doesn’t sound good. Don’t give him an excuse to heal you, I guess.”
“I’ll try not to. Whatever comes next, be careful, okay?”
“I will. I promise,” Joey said, crossing her heart with a fingertip.
Chris studied her face in the darkness, fighting back wave after wave of melancholy over the physical and emotional gulf between them. “I miss you.”
“We’ll see you soon,” she said. “I think your range is longer than Roger’s, so come back tomorrow if you can. During the day, I mean.”
Chris reached out a hand as if to cup her cheek, then closed his eyes and smiled as he brushed his insubstantial fingers against solid warmth. Her breath caught in her throat; he suspected she felt it, but she didn’t ask about it.
“I’ll try. I’d better head back, though. I don’t want to be out of my body too long.” Leaving was the last thing he wanted to do, but staying wouldn’t do him any good either.
“Go. We’ll be fine. You be careful too.”
“I’m always careful,” Chris said, even though they both knew it wasn’t true.
He lingered while she lay back down, wishing he saw some path forward that didn’t involve putting her in Madrigal’s crosshairs.
&nbs
p; “Dean, I need a favor. Don’t say anything, just listen,” he said, waiting for a nod from Dean before continuing. “I know it’s a tall order, but try to steer her away from doing anything rash.”
Dean snorted softly and lay back down, drawing the sleeping bag over his head as he rolled over onto his side.
That about summed up how well Chris expected it would go over with her, too. With a thought, he was back in his room. He settled back into his body and opened his eyes, then put Cathy’s charm back around his neck and lay back down again.
Sleep was a long time coming.
14
Joey woke to the sound of pans rattling in the kitchen and blinked bleary-eyed up at the ceiling. She was an early riser, but someone in the house had her beat. The glow-in-the-dark stars were nothing but slightly yellowed shapes on a backdrop of eggshell white this morning. It was weird waking up in an unfamiliar room. Waking up in someone’s kid’s room was another matter entirely. She wondered where Mike’s kid had slept. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask, though she’d made the expected protests about not wanting to kick him out of his room. Hell, she hadn’t even met the boy. She only assumed he was male because of the decor, which featured lots of dinosaurs and shades of blue. In retrospect, it was a bit genderist of her.
Throwing back the covers, she sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. Dean was still sacked out on the floor, so she tiptoed past him and let herself out of the room. He’d done enough for her over the last two days. The guy deserved to sleep in. Leaving the room behind, she followed her nose—and the noise—to the kitchen, where she found their host at the stove making breakfast.
“Morning,” she offered from the doorway.
Mike looked up from scrambling eggs and nodded toward the counter. “Morning. There’s coffee if you want some.”
Joey didn’t need to be asked twice. Hell, she barely needed to be asked once. She was across the room in a heartbeat, opening cupboard doors in search of a mug. “Everyone else still asleep?”
“It’s just the three of us,” Mike said, continuously scraping the spatula against the bottom of the pan.
“Oh? I mean, with the bedroom, I just assumed…”
“Ah. Yeah, he’s with his mother.”
Something in his voice suggested it was a sore subject, so Joey didn’t probe for details. After pouring herself a cup of coffee, she slid into a chair at the tiny table and watched Mike cook while she waited for the coffee to cool enough to drink. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“Thanks,” he said. The house was tiny, but it was obviously well cared for. Clean, which her inner neat freak appreciated.
“Where does the rest of your pack live?”
“Around.” He gestured vaguely with the spatula.
Joey pursed her lips and blew lightly into her mug. “You don’t keep very close tabs on them, I take it?”
Mike shrugged. “We get together regularly, but it’s not mandatory or anything.”
“Interesting.”
Mike glanced over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I guess I’m just more used to packs that are a little more tight-knit. I never really thought about it before, but all the packs I’ve had regular contact with were pretty close. Chris’s pack—my boyfriend’s—they live together even though they’re not blood relations.”
“How does your mother feel about you dating across pack lines?”
“Well, considering the eligible bachelors in my pack are my brothers… I’d say it beats the alternative.” Joey smirked and ventured a sip of coffee. The hot liquid was bitter on her tongue, just the way she liked it.
“You think he’ll join your pack if things get serious?”
“Unlikely. He’s the Alpha of his pack.”
“Oh, right. You mentioned that.”
Joey scraped a fingernail along the rim of her mug, hesitating to say more. She’d never really talked about any of this with anyone. “I’m kind of the heir apparent in my own, so it’s…”
“Complicated,” he finished for her.
Joey grimaced. “Yeah. Complicated. I don’t really know where we’re going, me and Chris. It’s all so new, but so long in the making, I just— I dunno. I’ve been avoiding thinking too hard about it.” And here she was, opening up about it to a stranger. She rubbed her forehead.
“I’d like to say it’ll work itself out,” Mike said, walking the hot pan over to the table where there was already bacon and toast, ready and waiting. “But it won’t. You’ll have to work it out.”
“Yeah, I know. And I will. I just haven’t figured out how yet.”
Mike nodded and set the pan on a hot pad, then fetched plates from a cupboard. “So, Madrigal’s got his hands on two Alphas.”
“Yeah, but it turns out he got my mom by mistake.” Joey realized as soon as the words were out that she couldn’t explain how she knew that without giving away Chris’s secret. Mike hadn’t gotten full disclosure on that front, though she’d told him everything else about their last run-in with the Eastgate coven. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to pick up on it.
“Oh? Who were they after?”
“My godmother, we think. She helped us out when we were fighting them off last year. She’s a witch.”
He sat at the table, chuckling. “So, you kind of have a real fairy godmother, then.”
Joey laughed. “I guess I do.”
“Should we wait on your friend?” Mike asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of the hallway.
“Nah, just save him a plate.”
They lapsed into silence while they filled their plates. Joey was dying to know if he’d made a decision about whether he’d help them, but she didn’t want to be too pushy about it. So she drank her coffee, ate, and tried to play it cool.
Dean came wandering down the hallway once they started eating, scratching his chest and yawning as he entered the kitchen.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Joey said, smiling as she watched him head for the coffee pot. “Mugs are in the cupboard to the left of the pot.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, and joined them at the table in short order. “What’s on the agenda today? Please tell me I have time for a shower.”
Mike nodded. “You have time for a shower. I forgot my address book at the bar, so we’ll have to swing by there before I can make the call.”
“Does that mean you’ve made up your mind?” Joey asked, the prospect distracting her from the fact that the old guy had a physical address book.
“I have. I’ll help you get your people back, if you agree to my terms.”
Joey met Dean’s eyes briefly, then put down her fork and sat back in her chair. “What terms?”
“First, no collateral damage,” Mike said, between forkfuls of eggs. “If there’s violence, you can defend yourself, but no innocents are to be harmed.”
Joey toyed with the handle of her coffee cup. “Define ‘innocents.’”
“Anyone that doesn’t attack you, plus children.”
“Do you expect children to attack us?” Dean asked, blinking.
Mike shrugged. “Kids get strange notions in their heads sometimes, especially brainwashed ones.”
“All right,” Joey said, and took a sip of her coffee. “I’ll agree to that term. What else?”
“We try a diplomatic solution first. I’ve dealt with the guy before. I can arrange a meeting.”
“As long as it’s on neutral territory, that’d be good. Great, even. Next?”
“Neutral territory,” Mike agreed, folding a slice of toast around a couple pieces of bacon. He took a bite and studied Joey before speaking again. “Six thousand dollars, cash.”
“Is that all?” Joey asked, brows lifting as she held his gaze. Her wolf paced back and forth beneath her human skin, incensed that one of her own would extort money from her.
“Well, I wouldn’t say no to more…”
“I meant is that your last condition.” Her voice fell a little f
lat, but she successfully fought the urge stab him with her fork, so on the whole, she thought she was doing pretty well.
“Yeah, that’s it. I wouldn’t ask but… Shit.” Mike lowered his eyes, hunched over his plate. “I need a lawyer if I ever want to see my kid again.”
Joey’s eyes skimmed down to Mike’s hands. He was still wearing a gold band on his ring finger, suggesting it was a relatively recent estrangement. She glanced at Dean, but he was doing his best to avoid looking at either of them.
“I can do you one better. My brother’s a lawyer,” Joey said, once some of her initial anger had bled out.
Mike shook his head. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, but even if he’s licensed in Nevada, if he’s not a custody lawyer, that won’t help. I need a specialist. There’s a guy in Reno that said he’d take my case for six grand, flat fee.”
Joey stood, leaving the remains of her breakfast and coffee on the table. “You got a bank in this podunk town?”
Mike shook his head. “A few ATMs. But there’s one in Fallon. It’s about thirty minutes down the road.”
“All right. I accept your terms, but I need to make a few calls.”
Joey strode from the room, heading for the front of the house. She needed some air, and she really did need to make a few calls. As she jammed her feet into her shoes by the front door, her keen ears picked up conversation from the kitchen.
“That was stupid,” Dean said.
“Don’t judge me, boy.”
“Relax, I’m not judging you. Just saying she would’ve helped you out regardless. Now she’s annoyed.”
Joey let herself out and slammed the door behind her. Dean was right, on both counts.
After dinner, the guests retired to the ballroom for dancing and drinks. Chris lost himself in the movement, going through one partner after another without tiring. Every now and then he’d glance at the raised platform where the raven was perched, overseeing it all with a benevolent smile beneath his hook-beaked mask.