Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6)

by Lori Drake

  Right about then, a pained cry made its way into the basement. Jon cringed, and Chris winced in sympathy, considering how he might distract his brother from his mate’s rather obvious pain.

  “You’re rocking a pretty casual look, there. Gonna suit up before game time?” Chris asked.

  Jon rolled his eyes, not bothering to respond.

  “I’m not sure what the occasion calls for. Armani? Brioni?” Chris nudged him with an elbow.

  Jon snorted, but his eyes drifted toward the stairs, concern etched on his face for all that he tried to hide it. “Childbirth is about the only thing Armani is good for.”

  “She’s gonna be fine, bro. You’ll see.”

  “Yeah, I’ll remind you of that when it’s your turn.”

  “With Sara? Damn…”

  Jon set his coffee aside faster than Chris would’ve thought possible and tackled Chris onto the couch. They fell off onto the floor, roughhousing until a cleared paternal throat stopped them in their tracks. Laughing, Chris extracted himself and sat up, leaning his back against the couch and looking up at his father, who stood there looking down at the two of them with an amused smile and an arched brow. In that moment, Chris felt more like himself than he had all day.

  Maybe his family was what he really needed to heal.

  18

  Joey stomped down the stairs, her footsteps uncharacteristically heavy but suiting the gray thunderhead that’d formed over her head the moment she’d seen Cathy’s car parked outside Jon and Sara’s house. It’d taken her and Ben nearly two hours to drive into town, thanks to a wreck on I-5 that had southbound traffic down to one lane. Finding out Chris had pulled Cathy out of bed to bring him here set the vein in her forehead to throbbing.

  She hadn’t had long to prepare her tongue lashing, but it was ready to go when she got into the rec room and found Jon and their dad playing pool and Chris nowhere to be seen.

  “Where is he?” she growled, only for her father to shush her with a finger held to his lips.

  Jon motioned with his cue toward the couch, which was angled away from where she stood, but when she walked around it she found Chris fast asleep there with a throw blanket covering him.

  Denied an outlet, her anger continued to simmer, but seeing him in one piece at least soothed the part of her that was worried about him and not just pissed. She took a deep breath, counted to ten, then let it out slowly and turned around to find that Jon had abandoned the game in favor of the box of alcohol Ben had brought.

  She went over to her father and claimed a hug. “How’s Sara doing?”

  “Contractions are getting closer together, but it’s slow going,” he said quietly. “I’m sure she’d like to see you if you want to go up and check in.”

  That sounded… awful. But Joey nodded. “What about Jon? How’s he holding up?”

  “I’m doing my best to distract him. Hopefully Ben’s special delivery will help.”

  “What’s up with that, anyway? Did he already burn through everything in his liquor cabinet? And if so, how is he still conscious?” Lycanthropes had strong constitutions, and it took a bit more to get them drunk—and keep them that way—than humans, but it wasn’t that hard.

  Reginald chuckled. “Melinda hid the key. Something about ‘if Sara can’t have any, neither can you.’”

  “Sadistic midwife. Got it.”

  “Care to join me? Looks like your brother’s going to be busy a while.” He offered her a cue.

  “Sure.”

  Hours passed, during which Jon and Ben did their best to work their way through that case of scotch. By the time the sun came up, Joey wished she’d crawled under the blanket with Chris for a snooze. Finding out he hadn’t woken Cathy up to bring him made her a little less annoyed with him, but she still wished he were with her godmother.

  She was sitting on the floor with her back to the couch, staring at a movie playing on the TV with the sound down low when she heard the doorbell go off upstairs. Her father had gone upstairs to retrieve a book at some point and was settled in an armchair. Jon and Ben had started going back and forth between coffee and scotch, though Joey’d caught Jon slipping scotch into his coffee at one point. They weren’t quite as drunk as they’d been earlier, but she wasn’t sure she trusted them with stairs. So she picked herself up off the floor and went upstairs to answer the door.

  The rest of the pack, plus Dawn and Quinn, crowded the porch. Joey blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. But they were all there, even Itsuo. And standing in the back, towering over the rest, was a sight for sore eyes.

  “Sam!” Joey hurried forward, and the small sea of warm bodies parted to allow her to get to her brother. She was too tired to stop herself from flinging her arms around him, hugging tightly. It had been a few weeks since he’d left, but it felt like so much longer. They’d had their issues, but she’d missed his counsel and his steady presence.

  Sam’s strong arms squeezed her, reassuring her that he wasn’t an illusion. “Nice to see you too, sis.”

  She held on a little longer, inhaling his familiar scent… but wait. There was another scent threaded through his rather liberally, and her brows shot up. She pulled back, looking up at him. “Where is she?”

  A throat cleared somewhere behind Sam, and Joey pushed him aside to reveal Jessica standing a little behind the rest, on the porch steps. She looked different, tanner, her likewise sun-kissed dark hair threaded with blond highlights. Joey’s eyes filled with tears, which she blamed on lack of sleep and an extremely long day. She flung her arms around Jessica, nearly knocking her off the steps, and a couple tears escaped to drip down her cheeks.

  “Welcome home,” Joey said before releasing her and stepping back, watery eyes darting between them. “You must’ve been close.”

  Sam held out a hand to Jessica, and she stepped up onto the porch and took it.

  “Yeah. On our way back, actually,” Jessica said. “How’s Sara?”

  Lucy nudged Joey and offered her a tissue. Joey took it and swiped it across her cheeks, then cleared her throat. “She’s still in labor. The contractions are getting closer together, but it could still be a few hours.”

  “How about if I make everyone some breakfast?” Dawn’s suggestion was met with, well, the enthusiasm one might expect from a pack of ravenous wolves at the asscrack of dawn.

  Adam and Jenny offered to play sous chefs, and Joey herded everyone into the house, which was soon filled with warmth and laughter. It felt good, having the whole pack under one roof. Almost the whole pack, she corrected herself, having briefly forgotten about Colt. The thought was enough to put a small damper on her mood, but not enough to spoil it entirely. Surely they deserved this brief interlude, this celebration of life. If not, what were they fighting for?

  She was so deep in thought, she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching behind her, but the familiar arms and scent that wrapped around her from behind failed to startle her.

  Chris pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “Good morning.”

  Sighing happily, her wolf practically purring in response to her mate’s presence, Joey leaned against him for a moment before remembering she was angry with him. She twisted in his arms to look at him, studying his face critically. The shadows under his eyes were less pronounced than they had been the day before, and he had more of a sleepy ‘I just woke up’ look about him than a ‘I need to sleep forever’ one. That was a comfort, at least.

  “I told you to stay with Cathy,” she said, frowning.

  “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Jon,” he murmured, lips brushing her forehead. “You’re not the boss of me.”

  Joey smirked. “It’s cute that you think that.”

  Laughing, Chris threaded his fingers in her hair and held the back of her head. He bent and pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss. “That’s what he said.”

  “Well, I see some things never change,” Sam said.

  Chris lifted his head, a broad grin splitting his face. “Hey
!” He disengaged from Joey and walked over to bump fists with Sam. “When did you get back?”

  “About an hour ago.” Sam motioned with his head toward where Jessica sat on a loveseat with Lucy. The two had their heads together and were speaking quietly, but Jessica looked up as if she knew eyes were on her and smiled, waving at Chris from afar.

  “You found her,” Chris’s words were little more than a whisper, gratitude written all over his face. “Thank you.”

  “They’re not the only lost ducklings to make it home just in time, either.” Joey grasped Chris’s shoulders and turned him toward the kitchen.

  “Em!” he exclaimed, completely forgetting himself.

  Dawn looked up from cracking eggs into a bowl at the sound of her other name and smiled as she spotted Chris.

  “S’cuse me,” Chris said hurriedly and strode off toward the kitchen.

  “Nice to know where I rank,” Sam said, chuckling.

  Joey laughed and slugged his arm lightly. “He’s glad to see you too. Jon will be too. Speaking of which… Maybe you can try being the voice of reason and get him sobered up before his kid is born.”

  Sam faced her, brows drawing together in a more serious expression. “That can wait. I got quite an earful on the way over about what’s been going on, but I’d rather hear it from you.”

  “Okay, but we should probably go downstairs.”

  “Why?”

  “Because by the time I’m done, you’re probably going to want to get into the scotch too.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not good to see you,” Chris said, hugging Dawn tightly against him. “But your timing is really bad. I have half a mind to pack you and Adam in a car and send you away again.”

  “I heard about what’s going on with the witches.” Dawn hugged him back just as tightly. “And I’m not going anywhere, silly.” She leaned back and took his head between her hands, looking into his eyes for a moment before studying his aura. Her next words were quieter. “Joey told me about your injury. How are you feeling?”

  Chris hesitated to answer. He felt better after some more sleep, that was for sure. But his wolf was still distant, only dimly aware of the presence of his pack and mate. That was more troubling than Chris wanted to admit, and he certainly didn’t want to admit it to the whole pack.

  “Think they can handle this for a few minutes, so we can talk?” he asked.

  Dawn nodded without hesitation and stepped away from him, giving Adam and Jenny fresh marching orders before letting Chris draw her out of the kitchen by the hand. He ducked into a bathroom with her and turned on the fan. It wasn’t that he was worried about anyone eavesdropping, but he didn’t want anyone to accidentally overhear what they were saying either.

  Dawn leaned against the sink. “Okay, lay it on me. How bad is it, really?”

  “It’s draining. Really draining. Sleep helps with that. But my wolf…” He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the wall across from her. “I can barely sense it sometimes, and the moon— It’s not affecting me the same way. I doubt I could shift forms right now if my life depended on it. I’m afraid to try. I don’t want to be right.”

  “Have you told Joey?”

  Chris couldn’t help but wilt a little under her gaze.

  That was answer enough for her. She sighed. “When will you two learn about not telling each other shit?”

  “We’re getting better about it. Mostly. And I’ve barely seen her for the last twenty-four hours. In my defense.”

  “Well, I don’t know if it’ll make you feel any better, but I’m not particularly surprised.” She held up a hand when he started to protest. “That the energy leak is affecting your lycanthropy. Are your senses dulled too?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve been doing some research on lycanthropy, and Adam has been letting me study him a bit. It’s magic in nature, right? That leaking mystical energy is probably what fuels your lycanthropy.”

  He considered that, frowning. “So, I’m leaking magic?”

  “Not exactly. Not magic as I know it. But I can see the hole in your aura and the energy seeping out of it. The good news is that since resting seems to replenish you, if we can figure out how to heal the damage, you should get back to normal. Joey said it was caused by a spirit attack?”

  “Yeah, on the astral plane. He shot me. It was the weirdest thing.”

  She looked away, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe if we can cross the spirit over, or break its connection to this world, the effects will go away. Where were you when it happened?”

  Chris thought back to the night of the séance. “A warehouse, on the waterfront.”

  “The lake or the sound?”

  “The sound. Downtown.” Chris took out his phone and brought up a map, crossing over to lean against the sink beside her so he should show her where they were.

  Her forehead wrinkled and she tilted her head like she was getting an idea. “What did the ghost look like?”

  “Old-timey. Long duster, plain shirt and pants. Like a nineteenth century gunslinger, basically.” When she didn’t respond after a few seconds, he nudged her. “What?”

  “Eh… I dunno.”

  He nudged her again. “Spit it out.”

  “Well, it’s quite possible there are dozens of Victorian-era gunslinger ghosts around town, but I heard a story about one in particular on a tour.” Her features took on a thoughtful cast. “Legend has it, he died robbing a bank in the late nineteenth century, and he still haunts the area. But most of the sightings of him have been in the Underground, closer to the bank he allegedly tried to burgle. But it’s not far from where you were. Here.”

  She motioned for his phone, so he handed it over and waited while she studied the map, then stuck a pin on Pioneer Square.

  “That really isn’t far from where we had the séance,” he murmured, scratching his jaw.

  “Well, like I said. It’s possible there’s more than one ghost that fits that description. It’s also possible that it’s a made up story designed to titillate tourists.”

  Chris shrugged, then pushed off the counter and reclaimed his phone. “It’s more than we had to go on before, so thanks. We should tell Joey about it.” He paused when she caught his hand, turning to look at her.

  “It’s going to be okay, Chris. We’ll sort through this. I promise.” There was such earnest certainty in her eyes that he allowed himself to hope that it would actually be true.

  Managing a smile, he squeezed her hand. “Thanks.”

  They caught up with Joey in the basement, where she stood in front of the coffee pot with Amber, waiting for it to finish brewing the latest pot. He filled them in on Dawn’s theory about the ghost, which made Amber perk up.

  “Franklin Boatwright,” she said.

  Dawn snapped her fingers. “Yeah! That’s the name… it was on the tip of my tongue, I swear.”

  “Did you say Pioneer Square?” Joey said, eyes suddenly narrowed.

  “Yeah,” Dawn said. “Underground Seattle, you know?”

  Chris and Joey exchanged confused looks while Amber and Dawn exchanged exasperated ones.

  Dawn sighed. “I expected better from you, Chris. You really haven’t read up at all on the history of the area?”

  “Less condescension, more explanation,” Joey said, drumming her nails on the counter top.

  “Pioneer Square is the original Seattle, back when it was settled in the 1850s,” Amber explained.

  Dawn added, “Only it basically burned to the ground in 1880-something.”

  “1889,” Amber supplied.

  “Right, thanks.” Dawn flashed Amber a brief smile. “Anyway, after that they built everything out of brick so it wouldn’t catch fire again, but the city also did a big regrading project to raise street level.”

  Amber jumped in again, her eyes alight with enthusiasm for the topic. “But the foundations of all the buildings were at the old street level. For a while, pedestrians had to use ladders to climb
up to catwalks that allowed them access to the buildings.”

  “Some buildings were built with entrances on both the old ground floor and what would be the new ground floor, in anticipation,” Dawn said.

  Joey flapped a hand, interrupting. “I’m still waiting for what this has to do with, well, anything.”

  Amber and Dawn exchanged another exasperated look. Amber sighed and tucked her gloved hands under her arms. “It’s all still down there. The original street level.”

  “A city beneath the city,” Dawn added.

  Joey frowned. “You’re telling me that there’s a whole other level of city underneath Pioneer Square?”

  “Yes and no,” Amber said. “I mean, parts of it aren’t accessible anymore. But yeah, there are tour companies that give tours down there and everything.”

  Chris found all of this fascinating and was a little annoyed about Joey interrupting. “Wow, that’s really cool. I’m going to have to check that out.”

  “You might have a chance sooner rather than later,” Joey said, nibbling her lower lip. “Remember where Jordan—Quinn’s buddy—was last seen?”

  Chris groaned and rubbed his forehead. “All roads lead to Pioneer Square, apparently.”

  “Bingo,” Joey said. “If our rogue witch’s operation is in the Underground, we’re going to have a tricky time finding it.”

  “But wouldn’t that be a bad place to set up shop?” Dawn asked. “There’s so much tourist traffic.”

  “Only in certain areas.” Amber shifted her weight between her feet. “Like I said, some aren’t open to the public. But it’s a warren down there. There are probably entrances that aren’t publicly known, ways to get into restricted areas. Every few years, there’s a story in the news about a search for lost urban explorers down there.”

  “I’m going to have to go check it out,” Joey said. “I’ll put a group together.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Dawn said.

  Amber held up a hand. “Me too.”

  Joey glanced between the two of them and nodded. “I guess magic backup would be a good idea. And two witches are better than one.”