“Something’s wrong with me.” His voice was serious and his words were forced. He didn’t want to be admitting what he was admitting. “Not just the vampires screwing with my senses.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I was doing my regular flyover and I scented Darby’s stalker again. But it wasn’t him. It was Thorn. Just like at the courthouse.”
Aven tapped his teeth together, then swore. “I don’t even know what’s messed up, exactly. Is it him, is it me, is it vampires?”
“Where would Cora be right now?” Dakota said, ready to flip the car around if she needed to.
Dakota didn’t know what was wrong with Aven either, but she knew where to start investigating it, and she was thrilled to not be thinking about whether she was a switch or not.
* * *
Dakota turned up a driveway made of terracotta tiles and gaped in amazement at Breath Coven’s home.
Resperanza was gorgeous, no doubt about it. With her peachy-pink stucco walls and rusty-brown terracotta tile roof, the coven looked like some of the swankiest mansions in Phoenix, but way bigger. Two tall turrets covered in slender windows marked the front corners of the hacienda. Cast iron window boxes filled with flowers in shades of fire gave the whole house a welcoming feel.
Dakota pulled to one side of the driveway and parked. She had barely shut the engine off when the front door opened. It was Cora, her eyes lit up with excitement. “I ate. Got any guns on you?” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’m kidding. Come in.”
Cora invited Dakota and Aven in, leading the way down the tiled hallway to the living room beyond. They passed a small bedroom with its door open. Cora gestured with a smile. “That’s Auntie’s room. The judge said we could pick her up as soon as the paperwork goes through.”
They turned a corner into a living room filled with overstuffed white couches, and sat down. Goldie was tucked into an easy chair at the other end of the room, where the rounded turret at this corner of Resperanza housed a kind of library. When she saw Dakota and Aven, Goldie tossed off her blanket and walked over to join them, that same gentle smile on her face. “Feeling any better?” she asked Dakota.
Dakota shrugged. The truth was, Dakota didn’t feel entirely comfortable in Resperanza. The coven was gorgeous, but Dakota felt unsettled. Like someone’s suspicious grandma was listening to their conversation, and maybe judging them a little.
She shook it off and looked at Cora. “We need to talk about Thorn.”
Cora’s lip curled and she put her hand on her belly. “Ugh, even his name makes me queasy now.” She sat on one of the couches, pulling her legs beneath her. “I mean, I always thought he was odd, even over email. Just… not quite right. But fascinating, too. I looked forward to hearing from him but I hated talking to him. It was weird.” Something about what she said rang a tiny bell of memory in Dakota’s mind.
“But then at the courthouse,” Cora’s whole body shivered with revulsion. “I had to get away from him. You saw me,” she said, gesturing at Aven. He nodded confirmation.
Goldie sat down, too, and piped up. “That first way you said, that’s how I felt about Darby’s friend Lance, the one she met at the art show in New Orleans. Darby loved him, but he skeeved me out right from the beginning. Intrigued me, too, though. I hid behind a wall and watched him and Darby the whole night.”
Her tone changed. “But what you said about the courthouse, that’s how the stalker made me feel. I couldn’t get away fast enough.”
The bell that had been ringing in Dakota’s head stopped as she realized when she had felt the same fascinated revulsion as Goldie and Cora described. “There was a car, down the road from the Bear Claw, the first day Maze and I showed up. The guy inside was just sitting there, but I felt exactly like you two said. I was revolted, but I couldn’t stop looking.”
Dakota tipped her head, unsure. “I think I saw him again, at the courthouse, before Auntie’s first hearing. Or someone else who made me feel that way.”
She remembered another time as well, and touched Aven’s sleeve to remind him. “And same thing when I picked Aven up outside the courthouse, when you saw Thorn that first time.” Dakota’s forehead crinkled with confusion. “That’s two different guys, though. The first guy had a ponytail, same as the one in the car, but Thorn doesn’t.”
Goldie went still, her blue eyes wide. “Lance had a ponytail.” She stood up and walked away, toward the front door, calling over her shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”
When she returned, Goldie held a letter in her hands. “Flint had the mail from the duplex forwarded to the BBOC, since it’s not safe to go there now that the vampires know about it. This was postmarked while Darby was in the hospital.”
Her hands shook as she gave the letter to Dakota to open. Aven stuck his face close and inhaled. “No scent. Probably got rubbed off in the mail.”
Dakota opened the letter. Her stomach gave a rebellious heave. The words were cut-outs from magazines and newspapers, the message all concern for Darby’s health. He wanted to know if she was alright, that he hadn’t meant for her to get hurt, why she’d run. By the time she’d scanned the full text, Dakota’s fingers were shaking, too. She tucked the note away and practically threw it on a nearby table.
“Thorn’s an antiques dealer? What did you buy from him?” Dakota asked Cora, trying to get back on track after the way that note had made her feel, all scattered and torn.
Cora pointed into the library, to a leather satchel on a high shelf. “An antique vampire-hunting kit.” Dakota did a double-take, and Cora fluttered her hands, rushing to explain. “Not anything real, they were just popular back then, after Bram Stoker wrote Dracula, when everyone and their mother were having séances to reach the dead. A jar of holy water, one with garlic oil, a pointy wooden stake, crucifix, stuff like that.”
Dakota nodded. “Anything else?”
“A couple things I already sold. Oh, and Lynessa has this mammoth tusk, the last thing I bought from Thorn, right before shit got supernatural. It’s about switches, but I didn’t realize it until after I had given it to her. And I haven’t figured out how to ask for it back without tripping her radar and bringing up questions I can’t afford to answer.”
Dakota laughed, but it wasn’t funny. She could see how that would be tricky. She was lucky she hadn’t left behind anyone but her coworkers, but if she’d had to keep The Cause secret from Dallas? It could have ruined their relationship.
Cora cocked her head. “Thorn saw the tusk, with the word ‘swytch’ carved on it, and he had this whole witch legend he’d found about the story carved on it…” Her eyes shone with concerned lights as she looked at each of them in turn. “Do you think he knows about The Cause? Or at least switches?”
After spending the whole conversation quiet, Aven finally spoke up. “Cora, can you set up a meeting with Thorn? I think it’s time J and I asked him some questions.”
Cora pulled out her phone. “Done.”
Chapter 37 - A Little Birdie Told Me
Aven and Jameson sat at a coffee shop in Shady Pines the following afternoon, waiting for Thorn to show. Cora had arranged a meeting, saying she and Jameson wanted to talk to him while he was still in town, and according to Jameson, Thorn had rushed to agree. Aven had come along in her place, to give Jameson a read on the squirrely Sonofabitch.
Jameson spoke up. “I was so distracted by Cora and Auntie last time, I didn’t pay enough attention to him. What’s the signal if he’s hiding something?”
Aven thought for a moment, then drummed his fingers on the table. Jameson gave a grunt of assent.
That dark, sleek scent wove through the room. Aven and Jameson’s heads turned toward the door. Thorn stood there in an expensively-cut blazer and cashmere scarf over jeans and a white t-shirt, scanning the room, his eyes finally settling on Aven, then Jameson. His lip curled with a sneer as he walked over, and Aven felt a wave of betrayal roll off him. “Where’s Cora?”
Jameson took the lead. “She’s not
feeling well. Have a seat.”
A surge of push-back caught Aven’s attention, as if Thorn was thinking of refusing. It dissipated quickly. He pulled out a chair across from them and sat.
Jameson waved at a waitress as he spoke to Thorn. “You want some coffee? How’s your hotel?”
Thorn vibed as cautiously open. That was good. He ordered a cappuccino and turned back to Jameson. “I AirBnb’d it. There are some nice condos around here.”
They talked politely but tersely until Thorn’s coffee came, about the area, and the artists Thorn had met. “I’d pack them all off to New York with me if I could. Their talent is wasted down here.”
Aven took offense on behalf of the forest. “Maybe they wouldn’t seem so talented if they didn’t have this waste of space for inspiration.” Thorn looked his way and gave a slight nod, acknowledging Aven could be right.
But Jameson had had enough of the banter. “Tell me how you met Cora.”
Thorn hesitated. “She hasn’t told you?”
Jameson’s jaw bulged. “I’d like to hear your side.”
Thorn hesitated for the barest moment, but Aven felt it. Thorn didn’t want to go there. Then Thorn waved one hand in the air, sipping his fancy coffee. “Online, like everything these days. She was doing research, as I recall.”
The Keeper nodded, as if that lined up with what Cora said. “And now?”
The hesitation became a wall. Thorn might have been okay talking about how he and Cora met, but he didn’t want to say what she was to him now. Aven drummed his fingers on the table and felt Jameson’s anger surge in response.
Jameson reached into his back pocket and withdrew the letter Goldie had shown them last night. The one sent by a stalker whose scent matched Thorn’s exactly. “What do you know about this?”
Thorn’s stony expression didn't change. His hands didn’t shake as he picked up the folded letter. If Aven hadn’t been there, Thorn might have pulled off the act.
Instead, Aven felt everything.
Confusion was the first emotion Aven read off Thorn’s vibe, followed immediately by dismay. Sharp, stomach-dropping. Thorn knew that letter before he even opened it. What was in it, who it was from, or both.
Thorn’s eyes scanned the pasted-on words. Aven felt his reaction. Thorn was furious, like he’d been when Aven confronted him about Darby and Goldie’s car accident. But he didn’t show it at all.
Thorn finished reading the letter and tossed it across the table at Jameson. “Why did you show me that? It’s not even addressed to Cora.”
Aven rested his hands on either side of his coffee cup and drummed all his fingers on the table around it. He had to let Jameson know that Thorn’s innocent act was exactly that, an act. Fucker was faking it all.
Jameson got the message. His anger pushed at Aven from the side. He leaned toward Thorn, jamming his finger on the table between them. “Bullshit. What are you even doing here? And don’t hand me any of that crap about scouting artists. I want the truth.”
Thorn’s mood turned like a cornered animal’s, his slender body coiling in on itself before he leaned across the table, too, sneering in Jameson’s face. “You want power. Over Cora’s whole life.”
Jameson jerked back slightly, but his initial surprise turned to rage as Thorn continued. “Where has she been, the last two months? Why doesn’t she work at the college anymore? Why is there a new family living in her house, and she has no forwarding address? You some overbearing asshole who sucked her in, got her pregnant, and now you won’t let her leave? Let her live her own life? I should call the cops on you.”
Aven could feel the Keeper’s white wolf rumbling under the surface, furious, fighting to come through and tear this mouthy bastard limb from limb, witnesses be damned. He glanced over and saw Jameson glaring at Thorn with murder in his eyes. Things were about to get messy.
Aven gripped Jameson's shoulder. When the Keeper didn't react, when his fury kept on building, Aven tried another tactic. He moved one foot close to Jameson’s leg and shifted his toes and boot into talons. Aven gripped the Keeper’s calf, tearing the legs of his pants and digging into flesh, almost breaking the skin.
He felt Jameson's spike of anger at the sneaky trick, then his cool, calm focus returning. Damn. Aven had never seen the Keeper's wolf test his control like that. But having his claimed, pregnant mate threatened by a stranger could do that to a male.
Thorn stopped talking. When Aven tuned back into him, he felt a wave of longing so stark it made his chest hurt. It wasn’t love, just desperation, an obsession that wouldn’t quit. For a moment Aven felt sorry for the guy, wanting someone, or something, he could never have. Then Aven remembered what was at stake, and the feeling evaporated.
Thorn stood, downing the rest of his coffee, and looked at Aven and Jameson. “Give Cora my best,” he said, then walked out of the coffee shop.
As soon as Thorn was out the door, Jameson was on his feet. “Follow him. Starting now he is Cause Enemy Number One. Do not let him out of our sight.” They made it to the sidewalk and watched Thorn walk down the street.
Another figure moved with him. Across the street, but in such obvious concert and with such intense focus that Aven couldn’t help but notice. Not to mention her body curved like a river, and not that Aven was interested, but he was well-trained.
He tapped Jameson on the arm and pointed. “Isn’t that Serena?”
Jameson’s eyes followed Aven’s finger across the street, to the nurse with the black hair and harsh bangs who’d been at the courthouse. Jameson muttered, “Sure is,” then raised his voice to call to her. “Serena!”
The female jumped, hair whipping around her face as she turned. When she saw Jameson her face flushed, her cheeks so red they rivaled the fire engine color of the lipstick she wore. She immediately turned down a side street and speed-walked away from them.
Jameson’s face screwed up in confusion. “That’s weird.”
Aven didn’t think it was weird that Serena wouldn’t want to talk to Jameson after losing her case against keeping Auntie at the home. But it was definitely weird for her to be so interested in Thorn, who was so interested in Cora. Aven might have to add the nurse to his watch-list, too.
And if he kept doing that, Aven was going to have to get over his issues with Maze. No way he could be the only flyer out here, especially if he was covenbound. The idea didn’t rankle like it had before. With Aven’s senses so mixed up, it wasn’t fair to involve Maze in a history they obviously didn’t share.
Aven looked around for a spot to shift into his eagle. He needed to track Thorn, get a pin on his home base. Jameson put a hand on Aven’s arm to stop him. “Did his scent remind you of anything?”
Aven shook his head. “Sometimes I think he smells a little like Cage did, and Maze does. Nothing specific. Just… I don’t know… like there’s some overlap. You?”
Jameson nodded, the look on his face inscrutable. “An old hermit, a shifter, used to live in the forest, not too far from Cove Springs. I only met him once before he died or disappeared, oh, must’ve been forty years back. I swear it’s the same as what’s in Thorn’s scent.”
Aven tilted his head, curious. “What kind of shifter was he?”
Jameson’s expression was puzzled and dark. “I never could place it. And nobody I asked would ever say.”
The Keeper inhaled, like some kind of spell had been broken. He gestured at Thorn moving down the street. “Get me a report when you have a location. We’ll double-team him if we have to. He doesn’t breathe without us knowing.”
Aven nodded in reply and backed down the alley between the buildings. He shifted and reemerged above the street, tipping a wing at Jameson to let the Keeper know he had eyes on Thorn again. Jameson gave a subtle wave and turned to walk the way Serena had.
Aven wondered if Jameson would find her, talk to her. If he did, what would she say?
He shook the thoughts loose and concentrated on his own quarry. Thorn’s scarf waved
in the crisp mountain breeze, making him easy to locate as he stalked down the main drag. He turned at the same corner he had yesterday, after leaving the art gallery, going in the opposite direction from the courthouse.
Aven circled higher, to see where Thorn might be going. Shady Pines’ downtown area only extended a half-dozen short blocks on either side of the main street before the mountains took over again. Thorn passed by the first block but slowed at the second, in front of a small-but-swanky, newly-constructed building full of luxury apartments. He let himself in the front door.
Aven circled the building, trying to look in windows, but too many of them were covered. He landed in an elm tree and evaluated his odds.
From the footprint of the building, Aven guessed there were two apartments on each floor, and the building was only four stories high. That made it easy, only seven to eliminate and they’d have Thorn’s location.
Aven would post shifters around the clock to watch him. Thorn was some kind of shifter, and somehow involved with Darby’s stalker, even if he had nothing to do with vampires. They needed a read on this guy. A good one.
Looking innocent wasn’t enough anymore. The Cause needed to know everything about Thorn Severn.
Chapter 38 - Feather The Nest
Dakota bounced around the coven all afternoon, nervous as hell about the meeting Aven and Jameson were having with Thorn, wanting to hear what they’d learned. Only problem was there wasn’t anything to do. The fridge was full of food, her laundry had magically washed and dried itself, and Dakota couldn’t find one speck of dust in the house to clean.
This place didn’t seem to understand how badly Dakota needed to distract herself.
Dakota gave in to the waiting. She sat in her bedroom in the coven, in one of the comfy gray chairs that faced the field of sunflowers outside her picture window. The sun was setting behind the blooms, highlighting their waving silhouettes. The reflection off Lightning Rock scattered a rainbow of colors across the glossy blue marble in front of the house, looking to Dakota like a sunbeam on a lake.
Raptor's Peak: Switch of Fate 4 Page 19