"You mean we're gonna try to use magic to find him?"
"That's right."
"Oh," I sighed. "Well, if you're counting on my red hair to help out, you're probably going to be disappointed."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because my red hair didn't help me to heal Courage's face."
Defiance flinched at the mention of his brother's face. "We knew about his burns," he said haltingly. "Is it…bad?"
"It was terrible," I answered point-blank. "Until he got bit by a rattlesnake. After that, he healed right away."
Defiance tilted his head. A slight frown creased his brow. "Seriously?"
"Seriously," I answered.
"That's…interesting. I've never heard of such a thing. But then, there aren't many poisonous snakes in England."
"Anyhow," I said, getting back to the point and lifting my wrist so he could see my bracelet. "We don't need to use the dining room table."
"Is that oak?" he asked, peering at the heavy band that circled my wrist.
I nodded. "Courage carved it for me," I said softly.
He reached for the bracelet and turned it on my wrist. "It's nice work," he said and smiled like he was proud of his brother. "And more to the point, it should do the trick. We should be able to find him with your phone."
"How does that work?" I asked.
"Just open your tracking app and focus all of your energy on finding him. Your power as a witch, combined with the wood in your bracelet, should help you to locate my brother."
So, I did as he said, but it didn't work. Nothing happened. "What's supposed to happen?" I asked.
His arm touched mine as he leaned close to examine the screen on my phone. "We should see a red target symbol flashing on the map to tell us where Courage is."
"Really?"
He frowned and glanced at me like he couldn't figure out what was wrong. "MacKenzie does it all the time."
"MacKenzie?" I asked.
"A…friend," he answered. "With red hair. Valor's lass."
"Valor's one of your cousins," I said.
"That's right."
"So, why don't we get MacKenzie to scry for Courage?" I suggested.
Defiance shook his head. "She can't find someone she doesn't know, someone she doesn't have an emotional bond to."
"And since I have an emotional bond to Courage, you figure I should be able to locate him?"
"That's right," he said, and gave me a long searching look. "You're so red, it should be easy for you. You don't…color your hair do you?"
"No," I answered on a wry breath of laughter. "If I was gonna color my hair, I'd probably go for blond."
"It doesn't make any sense," he murmured, pulling on his ponytail and eyeing me like I must be broken or something.
"Maybe I just don't have any power," I said with a shrug.
"All red heads are witches," he insisted. "All of them."
I paced away a few steps before I faced him again. "Maybe you should explain how this witch business works," I suggested.
"All redheads are witches," he explained. "The redder the hair, the more powerful the witch. Their magic comes from the forest in general and wood in particular."
"Wood?" I murmured. Of course, I already knew about the wood connection but now I was thinking back through the years and trying to remember when I might have made wishes while I was touching wood. As I sorted through my memories, I started to get an uneasy feeling.
"Aye," he answered. "And witches come in two distinctly different varieties."
My eyes widened as I watched him. "Good and bad," I said.
"How did you know?"
"Just a guess," I muttered, and averted my gaze. "That's how it works in The Wizard of Oz."
"But good people like you don't become bad witches."
"How does a witch become bad?" I asked carefully.
"If she uses her magic to make something bad happen, she can never use her power for good."
A long breath left me in a sigh. I walked over to the porch and sat down on the top step. "Maybe we should change our focus," I suggested.
"What do you mean?"
"What can you tell me about the people who might have taken your brother?"
His eyes narrowed on me thoughtfully. "Well," he finally said, "he was probably captured by the Olanders of Olander Scientific Labs. Most likely, Olivia Olander was involved."
"Olander?" I repeated. "A woman? What does she look like?"
"Horrible," he answered. "At least…she looks horrible to us."
"You mean she looks horrible to gargoyles?"
He nodded. "All we can see is the ugliness that permeates her soul. But she has long white hair and is considered attractive by human standards."
Long white hair…which could be mistaken for platinum blond if you were my brother, Kellen. "Okay," I said slowly, and reopened my tracking app. Focusing on finding Olivia Olander, I stared at the map of Colorado. Again, nothing happened.
"You…have to really want to find her," Defiance suggested. "You have to be…passionate about it."
So, I thought about Courage and how I really wanted to take down the people who'd kidnapped him. How I might even want to do violent things to them. And…sure enough…a red target symbol started blinking in a neighborhood southeast of Denver.
I stared at the small screen, trying to find an explanation for the strange phenomenon. If I'd had coverage, the target should have been blinking over a small town in eastern Colorado. But my service was nil and the tracking app had chosen to highlight a location sixty miles away. Which wasn't even possible…unless Courage and his brother were right about me and my red hair.
Maybe I was a witch, after all. And my magic had finally kicked in.
After I'd accepted the idea that I might have magic powers, I studied the map on my phone. The target had settled over what looked like one of those exclusive gated communities; the kind of place where sports stars live. I switched to satellite view and took a closer look. The properties were huge and the homes were like…mansions. I zoomed in on the map and showed the results to Defiance.
He looked doubtful. "You say that's south of Denver?"
"Yes," I answered. "Is that not what you were expecting?"
"Olivia's lab is in Boulder. I guess I was expecting…" His voice trailed away.
"If you and your family know about the lab, she probably wouldn't take him there," I pointed out. "Maybe this place in southeast Denver is her home."
"Or one of her homes," he agreed. "She has enough money to buy several."
"So, what do we do now?"
Defiance leaned in close and studied the image on my phone. "Zoom out so I can see where I'm going."
After I zoomed out, he lifted his head and looked off toward the northwest, like he was setting his bearings, like he was ready to take off and start looking for his brother.
"Shouldn't…you call your family and let them know where we're going?"
"We?" he said, looking startled.
I took a deep breath. "I'm going with you," I said as assertively as I could pull off.
He searched my eyes for several moments, as if weighing the merits of taking me along.
"I'm not asking you," I stated. "I'm telling you."
Now it was his turn to sigh. And finally he said, "That might be a good idea."
I closed the tracking app which had evidently been running on witch power and checked for coverage. It didn't look good. I had like one bar. I tried to wish for better service but it didn't change anything. "I don't have any service right now," I told him. "Do you want to use the land line inside to call your family?"
Defiance shook his head. "Let's get going. We need to break up whatever plans Olivia has for my brother as soon as possible. We can call on the way when your coverage improves."
I dropped my phone into the loose pocket of my jacket. "I…assume we're flying," I said.
"You assumed right," he answered. "You're…not afraid of heights, a
re you?"
I thought back to my earlier flight with Courage and smiled softly. "No," I answered.
Seconds later, we were part of the night sky, leaving the empty plains behind and heading west toward the city lights that spread across the land like a carpet of sequins. It was a pretty night and the view was breathtaking. But catching a ride with Defiance wasn't like being in Courage's arms. It wasn't as exciting. Or thrilling. Or the least bit romantic.
I think Defiance probably felt the same way.
"What's with the latex gloves?" I asked him as the wind tumbled my hair away from my face.
"Protection against harpies," he answered. "And Olanders—Olivia and her brother, Rafe. They can't scent us and track us down when we're wearing the gloves. Olivia knows about some of us but the rest of the family wears gloves when necessary, to hide their presence from her."
"Where is the rest of your family?" I asked. "Why aren't they here with you?"
"Until recently, they were looking for Force while I was tasked with finding Courage. I gave up my job and rented a small apartment in Limon so I could scout around for word of my brother. I've been checking in at the hospital and doctors' offices and talking to people around town. But today, I got my first lead when the waitress at the local restaurant pointed me in your direction."
"Yeah," I murmured wryly. "Two days ago, we made quite a scene at the diner."
"What happened?"
"Some local bullies tried to pick on Courage."
"How did that turn out?"
"We managed to avoid a fight."
"That sounds like my brother," he said with a smile.
"Why do you say that?" I asked, wondering if he thought his brother should have stuck up for himself.
"It takes courage to avoid a fight," he said simply. "It's much easier to start swinging your sword…or your fists…or a chair if it's handy. I probably know that better than anyone. Well, except for my brother, Force."
"Force would have fought?"
"Always," he answered. "Unless Courage was there to talk him down. But Courage wouldn't stand by and watch someone else get pushed around. If he saw something like that, he'd be all in."
Smiling to myself, I wished Courage were there to hear what Defiance had to say. It would have warmed his heart to hear kudos like that from his "overbearing" older brother. I snuggled more deeply into Defiance's arms, trying to find a place that wasn't windy and reaching into my pocket for my phone, thinking I'd check the coverage.
But my phone wasn't there.
I groped inside the empty space then tried my other pocket, just to be sure.
But my phone had slipped from my pocket somewhere along the way.
"I'm sorry," I apologized, explaining the loss to Defiance. I felt terrible about the situation that put us in…and not too great about losing my cell. My parents wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to replace it. "Maybe we could stop somewhere on the way and borrow a phone to make a call."
It took about two seconds for Defiance to decide he didn't want to do that. He didn't want to waste any time getting to Olivia…and his younger brother. "If things go badly, my family will find us," he said confidently. "Our contact in the FBI will be able to locate Olivia's properties."
"That's…your backup plan?" I asked. "If we get caught, the FBI will help your family find us?"
Defiance didn't seem to appreciate my doubts. "It's not like Olivia's going to kill me or my brother," he argued. "She wants us alive. And as long as we're alive, we can protect you…if we need to."
And while I was wondering about that last bit—the "if we need to" bit—he started telling me about Olivia Olander and why she wanted to get her hands on Courage. It turned out that she was essentially addicted to gargoyle venom and needed it to keep up her looks.
"So, the venom can make a person beautiful?" I asked, remembering the fabulous blue-green iridescence of Courage's venom and thinking I wouldn't mind trying it out. Well, except for the fact that Courage told me it would kill me.
"It can," he answered. "A human can build up a resistance to the venom by taking it in very small quantities. But Olivia isn't human."
"No?" I asked tentatively, not sure I wanted to know the answer to my next question. "What is she?"
"Her mother was a harpy."
So, Olivia was half-harpy. I wanted to ask how that had happened, but the idea conjured up all sorts of unpleasant images. So, I let it drop. "Well, if Olivia wants some of your venom to stay pretty, why don't you just give her some?"
Defiance looked appalled. "To begin with, sharing your venom with a lass is a…rather intimate act. You don't just splash it around with anyone."
"I understand," I lied because I had no idea what he was talking about.
"On top of that," he continued, "Olivia doesn't want just a few drops. She wants gallons of the stuff. She wants enough to build a huge reserve for herself plus she wants a large supply to use in a new beauty product she's developing. She's already drained two gargoyles dry."
"Drained them dry?" I questioned.
"She killed them, Lorissa. She almost did the same to my brother, Force."
"Oh!" I exclaimed, understanding that concept perfectly well. "Who…who were the gargoyles who lost their lives?"
Defiance shook his head. "We didn't know them. It happened before we got to America."
"That's…sad," I sighed.
He turned a narrow look on me. "I'm glad you think so," he answered cryptically.
All in all, he seemed a little…wary of me. "What do you mean by that?" I asked.
"I'm just glad you're on our side," he said. "And I guess I'm counting on you if we run into trouble."
"On me?"
He nodded. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, you're the real backup plan, Lorissa."
Chapter Nine
I didn't have any idea how Defiance thought I'd be able to help, but I was sure willing to pitch in wherever I was needed. Of course, I didn't know what we'd be facing when we reached the Olander property in Denver. Maybe the rescue operation wouldn't involve much. After all, Defiance hadn't thought it was absolutely necessary to call home before we headed out. And he'd said that nobody was out to kill anybody. That sounded pretty nonviolent. Maybe he just needed me to knock on the door and ask if Courage was there.
"We're getting close," Defiance murmured, interrupting my thoughts as he scanned the ground below.
I looked around and pointed out the property I recognized from the satellite image we'd studied earlier. "There," I said.
Drifting silently through the dark sky, Defiance circled the high walls of the vast estate.
Even though the house looked relatively new, it reminded me of an old French manor. I think the style is called Normandy. It appeared to be built—or at least sided—with slabs of light gray stone. The roofline was all over the place but it was always steep, and covered with dark slate. Despite the high angle of the roof, Defiance decided it was the best place to land. He told me he wanted to scope things out before choosing the best way to enter the big house.
"Enter the house?" I echoed. "We're…not going to knock on the door?"
"Nay," he answered. "That probably wouldn't be a good idea."
He left me crouching beside a dormered window while he went off to investigate. The wind sprang up and lifted the skirt of my dress while I fought it back down again. It wasn't a cold evening but I shivered, partly because I was alone on a steep roof with smooth stone underfoot and partly because of the situation; it sounded like we were about to do some breaking and entering. What if Courage wasn't there? What if we ended up getting arrested? That would really ruin my parents' vacation.
Defiance's light touch on my shoulder startled me. He was so quiet, I hadn't seen or heard him coming. But his wings were still open so maybe his feet weren't even touching the dark slate.
Motioning for me to follow him, he glided down to the edge of the roof with me right behind him. Without making a sound, he picke
d me up again, dropped down to the ground and closed his wings.
Almost as soon as our feet touched the thick carpet of grass, I felt a sharp prick in my shoulder, as if I'd been targeted by a rabid hummingbird or an oversized black widow. Immediately, my gaze snapped to that location, afraid of what I might find waiting on my jacket and hoping it wasn't a huge spider or even a little one.
But spiders were the least of my problems. Because what I found was the feathered end of a dart. Alarmed, I wrapped my fingers around the thin metal shaft, thinking I had to pull it out right away. But I was already losing consciousness, the edges of my vision blurring and narrowing into a tiny pinpoint focused on that red, feathered tip.
I woke up groggy and disoriented. My unsteady gaze fluttered to a bare light bulb in the ceiling overhead. The small orb of glass threw a thin wash of light onto the naked concrete walls that closed in the long narrow room.
It was obviously a basement room. On the narrow end, concrete stairs rose to the floor above. On the opposite wall was an opening to another room. But the door at the top of the stairs appeared to be the only exit. There weren't any windows. At least, there weren't any windows anymore. I could see the rectangular outlines near the top of the wall that showed where the windows had once been, now filled in with cement. And I wondered who would build a room with so much concrete.
The other thing that was really strange—not to mention unsettling—was the presence of several large hooks in the ceiling. How large were they, you ask? Well, let me put it this way. I've seen smaller hooks in my Uncle Walter's smokehouse in Iowa. And he raises hogs.
I couldn't figure out where I was or why I was there or how I'd gotten there. Or what I'd done to deserve waking up anywhere other than my bed at home. But someone was whispering my name; the quiet word echoed in the empty room. And if I wasn't wrong, that someone was whispering in Courage's voice.
With the sound of that rough lilt in my ears, my memory returned in a rush of details. I had flown to Denver in Defiance's arms. We had landed on the rooftop of the Olander house. Then there was the dart. My eyes quit dithering around and snapped wide open. "Rage?" I whispered.
"Lissa," he breathed, his voice taut with emotion. "You're alright?"
Courage Page 10
