Shadowed Threads

by Shannon Mayer

  I left Jack and Doran in the library and headed to the nearest bathroom. Digging through the cupboards, it took me several searches to find what I was looking for. The towel was too big, so using my bowie knife I cut it into strips.

  “Pamela, run this under the hot water, will you?” I handed her the smallest strip.

  She did as I asked, her eyes watching me in the mirror. “Do you think he’s safe now?”

  “Safe as he’s going to be.”

  “Then why did you take me with you?”

  I sat on the edge of the tub and she handed me the strip. Pressing it against the bite I let out a sigh. “Because he’s never going to be safe. Not really. There are very few supernaturals that I would leave you with. Will and Deanna, Jack. Eve. Not Doran.”

  Alex slunk into the bathroom. “Leave Pamie with Alex.”

  “Yes.” I patted him on the head. “I’d leave Pamie with Alex. You would keep her safe.”

  He grinned up at me, and then leaned into the sink to play in the water, drawing designs in it with his oversized claws.

  Pamela eyes were shadowed, like she was still worried. Fuck, this was what I’d been worried about when taking her on as my ward. Not only how the hell I was going to keep her safe, but how was I going to allow her to still be a kid when she needed to be?

  Unfortunately, I already knew the answer. Her days as a child were done, and even though she was only fourteen, I had to depend on her as the powerful witch she was.

  It took everything I had to say the words that came out of my mouth next. “You want to go and check on Doran, make sure he and Jack are all right while I clean up?”

  A flare of excitement lifted the shadows from her face. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Just be careful. If he so much as steps toward you, wrap him up again and holler for me.” She was running back the way we’d come before I’d even finished speaking. Eager to take part, eager to be of help. Eager to be a grown up.

  The gods help me, I was going to need her when I went after O’Shea.

  Gods help us both.

  Chapter 6

  Doran was passed out when I went back into the library. Still flat on his back, he was snoring, which to me just seemed weird. Where was the grace and the mystery, the fear inducing reputation that was supposed to go along with the blood drinkers?

  He snorted and rolled onto his side. Maybe not so much after all.

  Jack didn’t look up when he spoke to me. “Between the binding being broken and the high of your blood coursing through him, he’ll be passed out for days.”

  “I don’t have days. Milly said there is a team of witches going after O’Shea now. I have to leave.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him. He’s got some interesting parts to play in the future.” Jack’s eyes narrowed as though squinting to see something—maybe that was exactly it. As a Reader, he could pick out what people were going to do, and even what they needed to do, just like Giselle had been able to.

  Maybe when I got back with O’Shea, I’d ask Jack how he’d avoided the madness that had stolen Giselle from me long before she died.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face. “Listen, Alex has to stay here.”

  The werewolf let out a high-pitched whine.

  I glared at him, something I didn’t often do, but I needed him to obey me. “You can’t come. O’Shea is dangerous and he might go after you again. I don’t know that his last orders from Milly aren’t still in play. You stay here with Jack and Doran. Got it?”

  His lower lip trembled, drooping a good inch. “Gots it.”

  Next I turned to Pamela. “Go get your trench coat, the black one, and your tall boots. Dress warm for flying.”

  Her lips crept into a smile. “You’re taking me with you?”

  “I need you to hold O’Shea for me. Once we find him, you need to hang onto his furry ass until we get back here to Doran.”

  She bobbed her head, blonde hair dancing as she ran from the room.

  “You going to be okay here, Jack?”

  “I’ve been fine alone for a long fucking time before you bloody well showed up.” He grumbled, and then poked Doran with his cane. “Besides, somebody’s got to keep an eye on the fanged asshole here.”

  “Thanks.” I touched Jack’s shoulder and he reached up and put his hand over mine in an unusual show of affection.

  “Be careful. I may not be able to read you, but everyone around you has a lot of shit coming down the pipeline. Very little of it good.”

  I swallowed hard, pushed the spurt of fear that curled around my chest. “Got it. Anything else?” Here it was, he could come clean, tell me what he knew about the prophecies. Nope, no such thing.

  He waved his cane at me. “Nah. Now fuck off, go find your wolf.”

  Walking down the hallway to my room, I mulled over the best course of action. Experimentally, I Tracked O’Shea, something I hadn’t done for some time, not since I’d been home in North Dakota. I’d been too busy dealing with a rogue Necromancer, Milly and Faris. No, that wasn’t entirely fair. O’Shea had gone off on his own and that had hurt. He hadn’t trusted me enough to let me help him. So in turn, I’d ignored him.

  I let my abilities work, opened them up to trace O’Shea’s threads. There was nothing, not even a glimmer. The only way I wouldn’t be able to feel him is if there was a large amount of water between us. Shit, had he gone back to America? Son of a bitch—that would not make my life easy. I slipped into my bedroom and shut the door behind me.

  “Come on, O’Shea, where the hell did you go?”

  While my mind worked over what to do, I dressed for flying with Eve. Leather pants were not my favorite, but they were lined with fleece and were damn warm, which was what I needed. Tank top and long-sleeved shirt were next. November in England was a bitch of cold and wet. I much preferred the dry cold, windy snow of North Dakota. Holding the straps that would keep my two swords attached to my back, I paused. Milly had spelled all my weapons so they would cut deeper, hardening the metal so it wouldn’t break under pressure. She had made so much of what I did possible with her magic. Even now, knowing everything she’d done to hurt those I loved, I struggled in those quiet moments to understand where my friend had gone. Why she had turned against everything we had fought for in our years together with Giselle.

  I let those thoughts go, slipping my two swords on. Next was my belt where I hung my bowie knife, whip and a hip holster for arrows. Though I was still gaining proficiency at long distances, the crossbow was a sweet addition to my arsenal. So far it hadn’t jammed up or given me grief in the middle of a fight.

  Over top of everything I slid on my leather jacket, fingering the tears and ragged stitch jobs that cris-crossed over it. The thing was almost as patched up as me.

  A soft knock on the door that I was sure would be Pamela turned me around. “Come in.”

  “Gladly.”

  I spun, not recognizing the voice, pulling a sword from my back as I faced the man in the doorway. Average height, average build, brown hair, brown eyes. Nothing that screamed danger. If it hadn’t been for the crescent moon axe he held in his hand, I would have thought he was there for tea and biscuits.

  Right.

  He swung at me, still smiling, which was more disturbing than if he’d snarled or grimaced. I ducked and rolled while he dealt with the backswing of the larger weapon.

  “That’s the bitch with axes.” I swung my sword up, the tip opening a shallow cut from his hip up to his armpit. “Always dealing with the backswing.”

  The man stumbled back from me and then threw a spell my way, straight at the floor in front of me. Minor, one I’d seen a thousand times via Milly and even Pamela, but had never had used on me before. A sticky spell, one that would plant my feet to the ground and force me to stay where I was standing.

  “Hah, good luck with … .”

  Shit. I tried to lift my foot and nothing happened. This was the first time in a long time my Immunity had buckled, damn it al
l to hell and back. The timing was a bitch.

  His grin widened. “Shoes and floor aren’t you, little girl. Immunity doesn’t spread to those bits, do they?”

  Fuck, this was bad. He swung at me again and I did a limbo backward, stared at the shimmering blade as it skimmed along the front of my body, caught a glimpse of my wide, green, gold and deep brown eyes in the reflection of the polished steel. There was no time for me to play around, I had to end this fast or I was dead. Using the leverage of my feet glued to the floor, I lunged my body toward him, sword aimed at his throat while he dealt again with the backswing and miss of the heavier weapon.

  My blade slid through his neck with ease, the spelled edge beyond razor sharp. His eyes bugged out then closed, the smile forever etched onto his face as the axe slid from his hands. The weapon hit the floor with a thud and my feet unglued, the spell dying with him. Blood poured out of the wound in his neck, spreading across the floor as it first spurted and then just gushed from his body, until there was nothing but a steady trickle of blood coursing out of him.

  “What the fuck was that?” I kicked his body as I walked past him to check the hallway. Cocking my head, I listened for the sounds of fighting. The axe man was no ordinary robber, he had magic, and he’d known about my Immunity. He hadn’t been here for the silverware and fine china. Keeping my back to the wall, I made my way to Pamela’s door. I knocked softly.

  “Pam, you ready to go?”

  A voice that wasn’t hers called out. “Yes, come in, Rylee, you can help me pick out my weapons.”

  How stupid did they think I was? I slid out of my leather jacket and pulled the crossbow from my back, loading it as fast as I could, talking to keep the intruder, whoever it was, lulled. “Okay, but I thought we could discuss your use of magic first—”

  I kicked the door open, saw the intruder and fired without a second thought. The bolt took her between the eyes, her mouth a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. I barely spared her a glance after that; her death was nothing to me.

  Pamela was laid out on the bed, her eyes closed, her body still.

  I rushed to her side, a spurt of panic driving me. She couldn’t be dead. I wouldn’t believe it.

  “Pam, wake up, come on kid.” I put my fingers to her neck. Her pulse was steady, easing the panic that had gripped me for that split second. Fuck, what the hell was going on here?

  I scooped her up in my arms and jogged back to the library. As I drew close, raised voices greeted me. Son of a bitch. The door to my left was a closet. I slid Pamela into it and shut the door; that was the best I could do for now. Loading my crossbow again, I peeked around the edge of the library door.

  Other than Jack, Alex—who sat trembling by his side—and Doran—who I could still hear snoring—there were two new visitors. One I recognized, one I didn’t. The one I didn’t recognize was tall, hulking even. He would give Dox a run for his money in both height and width. Black hair curled around his ears, and he wore only a pair of threadbare pants, his upper body naked. A Celtic knot was tattooed over his heart and his muscles actually rippled with each breath he took, as he stood still in the center of the library. What the hell was he? Because he didn’t feel like someone who carried magic, he was much more primal than that.

  Actually, he reminded me of the tribal Guardians I’d met the last time I’d been in New Mexico. His eyes flickered around the room and I caught a glimpse of silver. Shit, he was a Guardian of some sort, which meant I couldn’t kill him. Fuck me, this was turning out to be a bad day.

  The one I recognized, I could kill her and not lose a moment of sleep over it. Dr. Daniels, my own personal nemesis from my first day in London, stood with her back to me, facing out the window.

  “You see, Mr. Feen, Rylee is standing in the way of progress. The world of the supernaturals is on the brink of coming into our own, of taking our rightful place as leaders, as gods amongst the humans. Rylee has sided with Faris, and so she is against this progress.”

  My mouth curled up in a sneer. What a bitch, I wanted to just shoot her and be done with it, but I also needed to hear where this was going. Not to mention I knew from experience that the Guardian with her would be impossible for me to kill. I really didn’t want to get on his bad side if I could avoid it.

  Jack gave a grunt and his hand tightened on Alex. “She hasn’t sided with anyone. Whatever information you’ve got, it’s fucking wrong, you dumb bitch.”

  I silently cheered Jack on. Alex lifted his nose, his head turning my way. Fuck, not now, Alex!

  Big gold eyes blinked at me, then one gave me a slow wink and he turned his face back to Dr. Daniels and the Guardian with her. For once, Alex seemed to get the severity of the situation and rolled with it. Thank the gods he was learning.

  “No, no. My information is very clear. Killing Rylee will be best for all involved. If my people don’t manage it, then my Beast here will. But fear not, you have my oath—you and the others in your home will not be harmed. That is not the Druid way.” She turned to face Jack, giving me a full view of her gloating smile.

  The Beast, as she’d named him, nodded his head. “I am yours to command, Mistress.”

  Not good, not good at all.

  Dr. Daniel’s advanced on Jack. “You are pitiful, dying, and even Deanna’s little bag of herbs won’t save you. You know that, don’t you?”

  He flipped her off. “Fuck yourself. Seriously, you think I care … .” He was lifted into the air, his face going red as he struggled for air.

  “I may not kill you, I may not harm you, but I will not take that kind of language in my presence.” She spoke to him as if she were a Queen and he her misbehaving servant.

  That was enough. Time for me to make my entrance.

  I stepped around the corner and fired, as she stepped to the sideways and my bolt missed her heart, instead slamming into her arm. She screamed, and Jack fell to the floor with a gasp as he yelled at me.

  “Run, Rylee. They aren’t after us, just you. Run!”

  “Not really my style, Jack,” I said as I dropped the crossbow and slid the two swords from my back. The Beast cricked his head sideways, silver eyes taking me in with a single sweeping glance, and then shifted into his animal form. His shift was like watching liquid bend and slosh in a cup as his body slid from human to cat in the space of half a heartbeat. It didn’t look real, nor did I think it was how regular shifters made the change. The faint shadows of rosettes under his black coat and the shape of his body were all panther. The shape of his head, the thickness of his body spoke of dark jungles and thick foliage where the cats of his ancestors still lurked. But the size of the Guardian was most definitely not panther. He was easily a thousand pounds, the size of a freaking horse, not a goddamned cat.

  Daniels smiled at me, though smiled would imply mirth, and she was all but baring her teeth. “Beast, take her.”

  The Beast roared, the scent of fresh meat on his breath spreading through the room. The sound reverberated through the house. My skin went cold; this was going to be bad.

  He lunged at me, paws that were at least five times the size of Alex’s slashed through the air above my head as I dove deeper into the library. Dr. Daniel’s screeched at the top of her lungs. Maybe she had a right to it, after all, it wasn’t the first time I’d hurt her without her being able to defend herself.

  I ran to her, slid an arm around her neck and pulled her tight to me, my other hand holding my sword so the tip pressed under her chin.

  “Call your kitty cat off,” I growled, squeezing her body tight to the point where I knew she would struggle to take a breath.

  “You will pay for this,” she choked out.

  I snorted. “Jack, do the bad guys ever come up with new lines, or is it always the same old shit?”

  “Same old shit, doesn’t matter how many idiots you face,” he coughed out, rubbing his throat. Alex trembled where he stood, peeing on the floor. Fuck, I wasn’t far behind him. The Beast crouched in the library doorway, tail l
ashing through the air.

  “Call your pet off.” I pushed on my sword, popping through the first layers of skin.

  “No.”

  I had to give her credit, she had balls.

  But I had no time to make a move. Something hard, a book from the feel of it, hit me from behind. I gripped Dr. Daniels harder, but she used that momentary distraction to escape my grasp.

  Spinning to face me, a sneer curled her lips. “Rumors run fast in the supernatural world. Everyone knows you’re an Immune now. That little ace up your sleeve is long gone.”

  Well, that was going to make my life difficult. Fuck me, life was just doing its best to sink me lately.

  She lifted her hand and pointed a finger at me. “Kill her, pull her heart from her body and let her bleed out on the ground.”

  Yeah, me and Daniels, we were going to have it out. Just not today.

  The Beast leaped and I spun, running toward the windows, my blades still gripped in my hands. We burst through the glass together, the swirl of red curtains and black panther blending into the sheets of blowing rain.

  I rolled across the grass to my feet, slammed my blades into their sheaths, and was running before I truly knew which way I was going.

  The sound of heavy breathing and the thump of huge padded feet hitting the ground behind me spurred me on. Legs and arms pumping hard, I bolted, zigzagging to keep the Beast from snatching me. At least that was what I was going for.

  “EVE!” I hoped she could hear me. Fuck, I was going to die as a freaking gods-be-damned kitty toy.

  Feeling the Beast move up, I dove to the right, narrowly missing the swipe intended to knock me flat. The Beast roared and I didn’t wait to see how close he was.

  “EVE!”

  The pond was to my right, close enough that I might be able to reach it before becoming the Beast’s next meal. I knew the cat would be able to swim, but maybe I could swim faster? I wasn’t seeing many other options to help me out. Blades wouldn’t work, Pamela was out cold, and I was running out of possibilities that would keep my skin intact.