Capture the Night

by Zahra Stone

  "Oh. Ummm."

  I waited while Rae thought about her next plan of action. The Red Witch and the Gunslinger were on the SIA's most wanted list. They were dangerous. I had to make sure this was done right and that Rae didn't go charging in and putting herself in jeopardy.

  "First of all, you want to find out if the shop owner—or whoever served her—remembers her coming in. Take a photo with you. Ask if she paid by cash or credit card," I prompted.

  "If she paid by card, get a copy of the transaction."

  "And then?"

  "Ask if they can tell us anything more about her. Was she alone? Which way did she go when she left? What did she say?"

  "Excellent. Right, let's go."

  "You're coming with me?" Her pout was adorable, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. That she was a badass Shelton woman who didn't need help. With anything. I often had similar feelings myself.

  "You bet your ass I’m coming. I'm not letting you walk into danger alone. You remember the Red Witch, right? You were face to face with her, and if she's in town and recognizes you? Don't think she's going to walk on over and say, ‘Hi, nice to see you again.’ She's going to kick your ass. And I won't have that."

  "I hate it when you're right." She softened the words with a face-splitting grin, then patted her weapon, mentally going through what she'd been taught. I waited.

  "Pyre gun, check," she whispered to herself, "restraining cuff, check. Bear, check—wait, where's Bear?" Opening the garage door, she spied her hellhound asleep under a tree, his snore blowing up dust.

  "Ready?" I asked, stepping around her and out into the blistering heat. SIA had coughed up enough cash to have all of the buildings air-conditioned, and while I genuinely loved the heat, it was nice to work without sweat dripping in your eyes.

  "We taking the narc mobile?" she asked, cocking her head at one of our larger vehicles that had a cage in the back for restraining and transporting paranormals.

  "Of course. Suppose we catch up with her in town. In that case, we'll need to bring her in, so we have to go prepared, and with the dampening effect of the cage and the restraining collar, she won't be able to use her magic to escape." I hoped. The Red Witch was one of the most powerful witches the SIA had encountered; the reality was I had no idea if our pyre guns would work on her or if the restraining collar would be sufficient. When placed around a paranormal's neck, it was a collar that locked down their supernatural abilities. So, shifters couldn't shift, vampires were weakened, and witches—hopefully—couldn't use magic.

  "Here," I tossed her the keys, "you drive." I planned to pack up my samples on the way into town, then post them to HQ.

  We stopped at the post office first, then proceeded down Main Street to the shop where Rae had seen the Red Witch. The sign on the window read Black Magic, and I raised a brow at Rae. "Seriously?"

  She shrugged. "I know, right?"

  I indicated she should lead the way and followed her inside. It was dim in the shop, and it smelled weird. Not an incense-type smell, something else, something more…potent. So potent it made the hairs on my arms stand on end. I let Rae approach the counter and talk to the clerk while I perused the shelves, my senses going haywire. Could Rae feel it? I watched through a shelf full of candles, keeping an eye on her, but she was chatting to the young man behind the counter, his hair twisted into a man bun, his face half-hidden by a beard. She seemed relaxed enough, hyped up with excitement. Still, she was being professional, showing him the photo of the Red Witch on her phone. He leaned forward and studied the picture for a second or two before shaking his head. Liar. I could feel something in this shop, and whatever it was, I'd bet it was connected with the Red Witch. It had to be.

  Rae slid her phone back into her pocket and thanked the young man with a smile before making her way over to me.

  "Nope, he says he hasn't seen her."

  "And do you believe him?" I asked.

  "Not in the slightest." She gave me a shit-eating grin, and I was so proud of her at that moment. She was going to make an excellent SIA Agent.

  "This is black magic occult." I pointed to a dagger on the shelf I was standing next to. "This is dark stuff. She was here."

  "So, what now? We stake out the joint, wait for her to return?" Rae asked, but I was already shaking my head.

  "She's already bought her supplies. And this guy, who'd remember a sizzling hot redhead, I'm sure, will most likely alert her that we've been in asking questions as soon as we leave."

  "What then?"

  "We're at an impasse. We're relatively sure she's in town, as is the Gunslinger, but we have nothing concrete to confirm that. So, we need to go hunting. Let's get back to SIA, and we'll head out from there. I want to bring Jordan in on this."

  Rae talked the entire drive back to our new offices, and by the time we arrived, we'd hit on a plan. She and Jordan knew where the Red Witch had been trapped before they'd freed her and discovered she was one of the bad guys. It was an old abandoned farm, and she'd been chained in an underground storage room carved from stone beneath the barn. Her scent would be all over it, and all we had to do was get Bear on the job.

  Faithful hellhound that he was, he'd followed us all the way into Maxxan and back again and wasn't even panting. It was a fun afternoon run for him.

  The sun was low on the horizon, and my stomach was growling when we pulled up. I'd skipped lunch, and it had been a long time since breakfast.

  "You got food here?" I asked Rae. Since I'd bailed on staying at the offices and was now set up in Paige's apartment in town, I hadn't thought to restock the pantry here.

  "Jordan took care of it," Rae answered, swiping her card and unlocking the front door. "If it were me, we'd probably be having frozen pizza for dinner. That man is my savior."

  "You got eggs?" I already knew the answer. Rae would have no clue what food items were in the fridge. Cooking was not her forte. Nor was it Paige's. It seemed I was the only Shelton woman who had inherited any cooking DNA. "Don't answer that. I'll check for myself."

  Continuing down the hallway to the kitchen, I flung open the refrigerator and smiled—fully stocked. And I mean fully. Fresh veggies, milk, butter, eggs, juice. Even a cheesecake hid at the back, unopened.

  "You want an omelet?" I called out. Rae had veered off into the open plan workstation area, and her muffled reply of "does a bear shit in the woods?" had me laughing. Rae would eat anything I put in front of her, whether she was hungry or not. I was preparing the omelets when I heard the lock to the front door beep and heavy boots down the hallway. Jordan and Brax were back. I doubled the omelet mix without asking.

  "Hey." Just the sound of his voice was enough to make me shiver in anticipation.

  "Hey," I replied, glancing at Brax, where he lounged against the doorframe. "How did it go?"

  "Stonewalled. You?"

  "Actually, made some progress today." I couldn't contain the relief in my voice. Our investigation had stalled, we were losing time, and I'd been worried Nate was going to take me off of the lead. This investigation was good for my career, and I needed to make it work. I filled him in about Mrs. B's car and that Rae had seen the Red Witch in town and our progress on both.

  "You're kicking my ass, Shelton," he teased. "I'm not sure I like it."

  "Pft, SIA will always trump Secret Service," I drawled, serving up an omelet and handing the plate to him. "Here. Eat. We've got more work to do tonight; you'll need your strength."

  "I love it when a woman says that." He winked and was gone. I heard him tell the others that the food was ready, and I swear it was like, two seconds later, both Rae and Jordan were in the doorway, faces expectant.

  "Yeah, yeah, give me a second. I can only cook one at a time. Seriously, it's like you two haven't eaten in a week."

  "It's only because we've experienced your extraordinary culinary skills and know that what to us mere mortals is simply an omelet. From you, it is nirvana," Jordan told me, laying the praise on so thick I'd need a
shovel to get it off.

  "You win!" I handed him the next omelet while Rae slapped him on the ass.

  "No fair, that's cheating. I can't butter her up like that. We grew up together—she'd know I was lying."

  "Careful," I warned. "Don't make me spit in yours."

  After we'd all eaten, I outlined the plan. We'd travel in pairs out to the old farmhouse; Bear would pick up the scent and lead us to the Red Witch. It sounded simple on paper. Easy. Of course, nothing about hunting the Red Witch would be easy.

  "What weapons do you have, Brax? You guys have pyres?" The SIA-issued pyre guns could be set to stun or kill, and I wanted the Red Witch alive.

  "I've got an ankle holster fully loaded, and yeah, we have pyres." He unlocked his desk drawer and withdrew a gun belt. "Don't have that restraining collar, though." He nodded toward Jordan, whose collar was clipped to the side of his belt.

  "Jordan, grab one for him, would you? Actually, let's go fully loaded. She won't be alone; we just might find our cells at full capacity tonight."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Rae jumped from the cab of her truck and whistled for Bear as we pulled up at the farmhouse. It had taken us two hours to drive out here—to the ass-end of nowhere. No wonder this place was deserted. How anyone had managed to survive out here, let alone run a farm, was beyond me.

  The old barn had been blown apart, but the cellar beneath was still there, and Jordan tossed debris aside to allow Bear access. I couldn't contain the chuckle at the sight of Bear trying to fit through the narrow doorway; it simply wasn't going to happen. Instead, he stuck his head inside, and we could hear him sniffing and snorting as he dragged in the scents.

  "How will he know which scent to follow?" I asked Rae.

  She stood with her arms folded across her chest, legs planted, patiently waiting. "You know, I don't know exactly how it works," she began, "but it's like Bear knows what I want. Like he understands me. Maybe he does; maybe he understands English but can't speak. Or we have some strange connection because ever since he chose me, no matter where I am, he can find me."

  With a loud snort, Bear pulled his head out and shook, dust flying from his fur, forcing us to raise our arms to shield ourselves from the sandstorm he unexpectedly unleashed.

  "You got it, Bear?" Rae asked, rubbing her hand up and down the giant dog's snout. "Can you find the witch, baby? Take me to her?"

  Bear barked, and the ground trembled beneath our feet. "Good boy," Rae cooed. "Let me up, and we'll go get her." Bear lay down and let Rae climb onto his back, her fingers gripping his fur tightly. He was bigger than any horse, and she looked ridiculously small on his back.

  "Hold on. I'm coming with you." Jordan vaulted up behind Rae, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  "Shit! They're going to be fast. Turn your trackers on!" I yelled, sprinting for my truck, Brax one step ahead of me. Bear was off and running before I'd even turned the key in the ignition. Slamming the car into gear, I peeled after him, dirt and rocks flicking up from the spinning tires. Fishtailing down the dirt road, I peered ahead, trying to keep my eyes on the dust cloud that was Bear, but it was impossible. Night had fallen, and I could only see so far, even with the spotlight mounted on the front of the truck.

  Brax punched in something on the GPS. "I've got them," he told me, and I switched my attention from trying to physically see Bear to following the red dot that appeared on the GPS. All of us wore trackers; they were implanted in the watches on our wrists, but for privacy, we only activated them when on a mission.

  The drive was wild. Veering off the road, I threw the truck into four-wheel drive and bounced over abandoned fields, through a disused quarry, back onto an unpaved road, and off again. My teeth rattled in my head from the jarring, but I daren't slow the pace. Jordan and Rae would need backup. Brax was holding on to the door, his eyes intent on the GPS, giving me verbal directions since I needed all my attention on controlling the vehicle.

  "They've stopped," he told me, "not far ahead. Slow down and turn off your lights."

  I did as instructed, casting a glance at the GPS. He was right; the red dot was no longer moving. Looking around, I tried to work out where we were—another abandoned farm? We bounced over a large embankment and onto a paved road.

  "Oh my God," I whispered as we slowly made our way forward, "this is the Everly Plantation."

  "Deserted?" Brax asked, but I was already shaking my head. "No. No, it isn't."

  I killed the engine and coasted to a stop when the gates to the property came into view. "The Everly Plantation produces a unique rum; it's world-famous," I explained, "And now I'm really curious why the Red Witch is here. Could she be helping with the crops? Some sort of spell to ensure they keep producing?"

  "Could be. Or it could be something totally innocent," Brax pointed out, and my head swiveled so fast I almost cricked my neck. He chuckled. "Okay, okay, I take that back. I'm sure it's not innocent. We were expecting some run-down, abandoned place where they wouldn't be discovered. Instead, we discover she's here, at a rum distillery, doing who knows what. Maybe she's purchasing supplies?"

  "Only one way to find out." I'd spotted Jordan and Rae waiting on the inside of the gate. Bear flopped down in the shadows, head on his paws, taking a nap. Opening the door, I made my way over to them, Brax right behind me.

  "What do you think?" Jordan asked me.

  "To be honest, it's taken me by surprise," I admitted. "This changes things. There are civilians here. Let's get closer, scout it out, then work out a plan of action. I want to know what she's doing here. Check your coms, report in if you see her."

  We split up and made our way up the long, winding driveway, the tall trees providing extra shelter from prying eyes. The Everly Plantation had been built over a hundred years ago. As far as I knew, it was still owned by the original family. The big old mansion ahead of us housed living quarters, offices, and a restaurant. It loomed majestically at the end of a circular drive, three stories high with tall white columns running along the front of the building. Strategic lighting showcased the plantation mansion in all its glory—the rum business was booming, judging by the manicured gardens and five-star, exclusive restaurant with high-end cars parked in the lot.

  Jordan and Rae were approaching from the front, Brax and I from the rear. Ducking down the side of the building, I crouched low and kept to the shadows when a beam of red light caught my attention. I froze, crouching to examine it. A tripwire of sorts. Using my coms, I whispered into the device on my wrist, "Use caution—they've got motion sensors." Stepping over it, I continued until I reached the corner. I plastered myself against the side of the building and cautiously peered around the corner. It was darker here. Keeping low, I darted forward. There was a back porch, partially enclosed, and several outbuildings. About a hundred meters further back was another building, huge, with a single bulb above the door. I decided to check it out. "Brax. You check the house. I'm checking the distillery," I said into my coms unit.

  "Affirmative," he replied into my earpiece.

  Darting across the yard, I weaved around plants and shrubs, keeping an eye out for any more motion detectors. When I reached the building, I crept up and pressed myself against the brick surface, inching along until I came to a window. Standing on tiptoes, I peered inside, seeing six massive steel tanks. This must be the distillery. I was about to leave, not expecting to find anything here when the sound of voices had me freezing in my tracks. Holding my breath, I strained to listen but couldn't make out what they were saying. It definitely sounded like a man and a woman, though. I seriously doubted the Red Witch would be hanging out in the rum distillery, but since I was here, I might as well check it out. Didn't hurt to be thorough.

  There was too much light at the front of the building to gain entry undetected, so I quickly moved to the rear of the building, sticking my head around first. It was dark and deserted, which was perfect, but less than perfect was the fact that there was no door. Hurrying along the back, I q
uickly looked down the other side of the building and breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, a side door. Approaching it, I glanced around to make sure I was alone. I couldn't sense anyone; crickets were chirping, so I had no reason to believe I had been spotted. It, therefore, came as a big surprise to feel something hard pressed between my shoulder blades and a deep voice say, "Don't move."

  I froze. My pyre gun was removed from its holster, and I cursed. How had I missed this? How had I not heard him approaching?

  "Hands up. No sudden moves." I raised my hands, already plotting how I was going to get out of this. As far as I could tell, it was just him and me. Once that gun was removed from my back, I'd have one brief moment of opportunity to take him down. Poking me again, he ordered, "Move," and pushed me toward the door. I stumbled forward, waited while he reached around me to punch in a code, and that's when I struck. The gun was still at my back, but it was worth the risk. He was distracted with the alarm pad, and despite wanting to see what was beyond the door, I didn't want to do it at such a distinct disadvantage.

  Simultaneously grabbing his wrist while elbowing him in the gut, I bent forward, effectively forcing him to lie over my back. I rolled him over me in slow motion until he fell to the ground in front of me. My strength had been the element of surprise. Seizing my pyre gun that he'd tucked into his waistband, I fired, and his body went rigid before slumping into unconsciousness. Grabbing one of the collars from my belt, I snapped it around his neck, then dragged him clear of the doorway. While we'd scuffled, the door had clicked open and now stood slightly ajar. I checked on him, pressing my fingers against his neck. His pulse was strong. I wasn't sure what type of paranormal he was, but the stun from the pyre gun would keep him out for a while, and he wouldn't be able to get the collar off when he woke up, but that didn't mean I wanted him running around alerting others. I pulled zip ties from my pocket and secured him to a nearby drainpipe before creeping into the distillery.