Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3)

by R. M. Webb

  I dry off and get dressed. It sure would be nice just to cast a quick little spell to dry my hair. Everyone here knows what I am, won’t matter if they can sense my magic. Besides, I don’t even know if wolves can sense magic like the vamps. You’d think Daya would have filled me in on this kind of stuff. It’s a little unnerving that I know so little about the very creatures she’s sending me out to destroy. I decide to give it a try, the magic on my hair. Kind of a two birds with one stone deal. First, my hair will be dry and second, I might get an idea if the wolves can sense my magic.

  With a wave of my hand and a muttered incantation, I weave a simple little spell. Pain throbs through my head as my magic goes to work. Did I do the spell wrong? A quick check in the mirror finds my hair dry and carefully arranged. No malfunctions there. I put my hand on my head and wait for the throbbing to subside. Which it does. Slowly. That’s so strange. Maybe my magic really does need to rest.

  It’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room and it makes me wonder how long I was in the shower. I pull out my phone to check the time and find my notification light blinking. That’s strange. No one calls or texts me anymore. Hell, I don’t even get email. Noah and Luke are the entirety of my social circle. If I’m not with them, I’m at work or on a mission for Daya. Or Barnabe. I’m really unclear as to who I’m actually working for.

  All I know is that the notification light makes my stomach sink because I can’t think of a reason any of them would be trying to get in touch with me that isn’t bad. My heart does a little flip flop of happiness when I see who actually texted me. Mom. I instantly feel better and slide open my messaging app, eager to be in contact with her.

  Hey, kiddo. Thanks for reaching out. Dad and I can’t wait to see you. xoxoxoxo Mom.

  Part of me is chuckling that she still feels the need to sign each and every one of her texts like I don’t know who sent them to me. The other part is busy trying to figure out what in the world she means. Dread creeps into my stomach and does funny things to my headache. I didn’t reach out to Mom. I probably should have reached out to Mom. But I haven’t. And we don’t have any plans to see each other.

  Unless she means over Christmas…?

  I do a quick calculation, trying to remember what day it is and if I already managed to miss Christmas. I think it’s still mid-December sometime and I know we haven’t made any plans to see each other. What’s this about?

  My mom and dad are planners through and through. Their calendar is filled in with tidy little notes months in advance. There’s no way they’d have an unconfirmed trip to see me. Especially one they hadn’t talked to me about.

  Something is very wrong here.

  I start to call her — her texting skills are abysmal, it’s not worth the frustration — but I’m not sure it’s wise to have this conversation in the locker room at the Wolf Den. I mean, like I said, I may be halfway into enemy territory here. I gather my things and stride through the gym, calling out a goodbye to Allison and Albert.

  “Peace,” Xavier says to my back as I push through the front doors.

  “Backatcha,” I call out without turning around.

  As soon as I’m far enough away that I’m not worried about those wolves and their extra sensitive hearing, I pull out my phone. Time to call my mom and figure out what the hell is going on. My spidey-senses say that whatever it is, it can’t be good.

  Of course, before I can hit the button that’ll call my mom, my phone starts buzzing, vibrating with another call. The ID says it’s Noah. Noah never calls. He always texts. Now my spidey-senses are on fire with all kinds of trepidation.

  “What’s up?” I ask instead of saying hello.

  “Get home now. Barnabe’s here. Unscheduled visit. He wants you here.”

  “I’m on my way home. Just heading to the bus stop.”

  “Nope. Skip the bus. He wants you here, now.”

  Chapter Twelve

  I hang up without telling Noah that my magic is pretty much exhausted. Without telling him about the flinchingly bad headache I got trying to dry my hair. Without telling him about the strange text from my mom. I shoot off a reply to her as I find a secluded place where no one will see me disappear when I cast my teleportation spell. I try to keep the text generic in case someone intercepts it or something, but also try to make sure she knows not to do anything until she talks to me.

  I slip behind the side of a building and whisper the words to my teleportation spell. On top of the characteristic wrenching feeling, there’s this awful searing pain in my head as I finish the incantation. And now I’m in my living room and the lights are too bright and Barnabe’s pacing like a madman and it’s all just a little too much. I crouch. Put my head in my hands and groan.

  There’s a flurry of activity and a lot of muffled talking. I can’t quite make it all out. Hell, I can’t quite open my eyes.

  “What’s wrong with her?” That’s Luke and there’s so much concern in his voice it makes me mad.

  “Her nose is bleeding.” That’s Noah and there’s even more concern in his voice and it makes me sad.

  The world tilts all crazy-like and I recognize strong arms around my shoulders and under my knees. Someone’s picked me up off the floor. Well, isn’t that sweet?

  Someone’s calling my name. A couple someone’s, I think. There’s this funny fluttery feeling in my chest and then I can’t really hear them anymore.

  And then there’s a zing of fluid energy that rushes through my body like cleansing fire and soothing rain. It’s followed by a jolt. A shock. A shot of espresso right to my heart.

  My eyes are open and I’m sitting upright and there’s something wet on my mouth. I drag my hand over my lips and pull it away to find it covered with blood.

  “Why am I bleeding?”

  Barnabe’s crouched in front of me, Luke and Noah standing behind him. “That’s a good question, my dear.” His voice is taut, like a rubber band wrapped around thick hair, but his eyes are alive with a light that makes me feel calm. “What happened?”

  I think really hard. What did happen? Where was I before I was here? Oh that’s right, I was leaving the gym. I remember the text from my mom, the call from Noah, and the searing pain in my head when I used the teleportation spell.

  “Can magic be strained?” I look Barnabe right in those super calming eyes of his when I ask the question.

  “If it feels like a strain then it’s too challenging a spell.” Barnabe looks confused as he rattles off the line they used to death in the beginning classes at Windsor. Noah has a seat on the armrest of the couch near my feet.

  “Right, right, right.” I brush off the generality and sit forward in my chair. “But if you cast too many spells, can you … I don’t know … overuse your magic?”

  “Explain,” Barnabe commands and I do. While I’m talking, Noah leaves and comes back bearing a wet cloth, gesturing that I should use it to clean my nose and mouth. Luke sits on the coffee table and his dragon pops into existence and perches on his shoulder.

  When I finish explaining, Barnabe looks relieved. “This is a simple problem that can be easily fixed.” His face goes all stern. “And could have been avoided if you’d been using your Memenderat each night.”

  Despite the fact that I didn’t know I was required to write in my Memenderat each night, I feel like I’ve been caught disobeying a direct order.

  “Whatever.” Barnabe straightens, and resumes pacing in that oddly swift and graceful way of his. “I didn’t come here to talk about basic magic with you. I came here to understand what happened last night.” He stops pacing and I wonder how old he is. And isn’t that a strange thing to think about right now? “Lucy is all worked up. I can only assume it has something to do with you.”

  Together, the three of us fill Barnabe in on what I found in Andrew’s head last night. When we’re done, he honest to goodness claps his hands. “Oh, good. She’s taking it all in, hook, line, and sinker.”

  Luke flings a piece o
f paper at his dragon “So, wait,” he says as his dragon snorts a fireball at the paper and it disintegrates to ash. “You want Lucy to know who we are and what we’re doing?”

  “Of course.” Barnabe turns and hits Luke with a look that has his hands dropping into his lap. “Do you really think she’d know if I didn’t want her to know?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice go from congenial to chilling that quickly before. Thank God it wasn’t directed at me. I might have fallen over from discomfort.

  “I wish you would have told us.” That was Noah, uncharacteristically quiet.

  Barnabe waves his hands and rolls his eyes. “It’s not for the sword to know the what’s or why’s of things. Leave that to the one making the decisions. The sword strikes where the master tells it. Plus you know, blah blah, liability, blah blah, the less you know the less you can spill if you get caught. All that stuff.”

  It irks me that he’s so blasé about putting our lives at risk. OK. So maybe that’s putting it lightly. It pisses me the hell off. I am more than tired of being some pawn in this game. Acting on the whims of someone who knows more than me about what’s going on. Someone who, in all probability, cares very little for me at all and would say something like ‘that’s a shame’ if I died.

  Barnabe whirls on me. “Take that back.” His eyes are no longer calming. Adrenaline roars through my system and mingles with the anger that’d been rising and I start to see little flecks of red in the corners of my vision.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Take. That. Back.” Barnabe punctuates each word with a jerk of his head.

  I should probably bow out gracefully here, given how terrified everyone is of this guy. OK, given how terrifying he actually is. Standing here in front of me, he’s got the tiger roaring inside me, begging for permission to come out and step between us. He’s got my heart racing and my chest heaving. I should probably just pretend that I know what he’s talking about and apologize.

  But I don’t.

  “Take. What. Back?”

  Barnabe is in front of me, his finger on my chin, tilting it upwards so I can watch as he lowers his face just inches from mine. “It would devastate me if you died. More than a shame. It’d be a downright tragedy.”

  Again, I probably should pull an Old Zoe and shut the hell up right now. Blush. Look down. Do the whole demure damsel in distress thing.

  But I don’t.

  “You’re gonna hold me accountable for the things I think?” I stand up, pushing my face into his, trying to hide my surprise when he actually straightens up and gets out of my way. “After all this,” I wave my hand around trying to indicate my life, “you’re gonna get mad at me when I don’t trust your intentions? When I’ve done nothing but find deception after deception regarding who and what I am? After I find myself out there, being your sword, following your orders, only to find out that I lack important information about my enemy? You have the audacity to come into my house and yell at me for what I’m thinking?”

  Magic surges through me and little black spots join the little red spots in the corners of my vision. My nose is bleeding again, and I don’t want to think about what I feel trickling out of my ears. I need to calm down.

  But I don’t.

  “Do you know where I was?” I continue. “I was at Albert’s gym. With the wolves. Pretending to work out when I’m really trying to figure out what the hell is going on because you,” I actually poke him in the chest with my finger, “won’t tell me.” Barnabe’s eyes go wide and Luke and Noah scramble to their feet.

  My tiger leaps in front of me. I don’t remember calling her out, but there she is, teeth bared, whiskers twitching. Thick drops of black smoke drip from my fingers and darken the ground. I taste blood. I hear my name, over and over.

  And then Barnabe reaches out and touches a single finger to my forehead. The power that surges through me is the force of a thousand universes exerting their will on me. A tsunami wrapped in an earthquake and sealed with a warm summer breeze.

  I take a breath.

  My head stops aching.

  My heart stops its thunderous torment of my ribs.

  My nose and ears stop bleeding.

  “You’re right,” says Barnabe. I blink. And swallow. Whatever he did, I’m calm. And rested. And stronger than I’ve felt in a long time.

  Barnabe turns to Noah. “She’s right.” And then to Luke.

  They both nod, looking confused and frightened and unsure. I want to tell them I’m fine, but I’m not ready to talk yet. I’m not sure what will happen when I do.

  Barnabe reaches towards me and I flinch, but he only pulls the amulet out from under my shirt. He clasps it in his hands and mutters something under his breath and there’s another warm rush of power but I don’t feel any different. Which is good. I don’t think I could handle more different.

  “Get your things.” Barnabe gestures at all of us, looking somehow like a father rushing his children out the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  We all just stand there and look at him, baffled.

  “Oh, right. Explanations are in order, I guess. You’ve worked very hard and have been on five successful missions now. I think a celebration is in order.”

  A celebration? He wants to celebrate? It’s late and I’m tired and I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. Barnabe shoots me a look and I consider shooting him one right back, but apparently my little outburst is over. I realize I’m still wearing my coat.

  “How ready should we get?” I ask, indicating my outfit.

  Barnabe steps back and studies each of us in turn. “Way more ready than that. But we don’t have a lot of time so we’re gonna have to use magic.” I inwardly cringe. I’m a little done with magic right now. Barnabe acknowledges my thought with a little shrug.

  “You’re right. No more magic for you tonight, young lady. You need to rest. Consider this one on the house.”

  And with a wave of his hand, power erupts into our little living room. It’s in my hair and tingling across my skin and dancing over my face and lips. I close my eyes and take a breath. When I open them, the first thing I see is Noah. In a tux. Blue eyes gleaming, hair shining. And then I see Luke. Also in a tux. Broad shoulders made all the broader by the well-cut jacket. And then I see the look on their faces as they stare at me.

  “I may have outdone myself this time,” Barnabe whispers and shoos me down the hall towards a mirror.

  I’m in a floor length gown, gleaming with beads and sequins, cut just right to show off my figure. My hair is piled on my head in a series of curls and loops, arranged to highlight my eyes. Long crystal earrings dance around my neck. Barnabe’s amulet is now a choker, shimmering with stones that look like they cost more than I’ll ever earn in all of my life. I stand, mouth open, tears pricking my eyes. I’ve never felt so beautiful.

  And then there’s a wrenching and my ears pop and I’m not in my bedroom anymore.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As far as transportation spells go, that was one of the smoothest ones I’ve experienced. It’s still a bit unpleasant, standing in one place one second, and then another place the next. Disorienting and all that. Just not as much as usual. Barnabe Wither’s is one hell of a powerful warlock. And I just told him off, had the audacity to poke him in the chest with my finger. I should probably be glad I’m not dead right now. Hell, the night’s still young, I shouldn’t count my chickens yet I guess.

  Wherever we are, it’s warmer. My shoulders and a good portion of my back are exposed in this gown and there’s nothing more than a very light breeze wrapping itself around my skin. There’s the faint crash of waves on a beach behind me, a tinge of salt and humidity in the air. I whirl, hoping for my first view of the ocean and find myself in front of a huge home, all windows and angles, a long set of stairs leading up to a well-lit door. The ocean must be behind the place. I breathe it all in, wondering if this is really what the ocean smells like.

  Barnabe catches our attent
ion and leads us up the stairs, taking them two at a time in long powerful strides. “Smiles on, my friends,” he says, hand poised at the door to knock. “Stay with me and try not to stare too much. Engage in polite conversation and disengage if things get … uncomfortable.”

  He pushes through the doors and leads us into a huge home decorated in clean lines and simple colors. Music threads its way through the place. There’s the murmur of conversation and laughter. And power. So much power. It’s almost like I can see it running across the walls and the floors. The paintings and the rugs. Taste it in the air.

  I reach out for Noah, entwine my pinky finger with his. Square my shoulders and stand tall.

  Barnabe leads us through the place, room after room containing well-dressed people engaged in light conversation. All of them witches. All of them powerful. All of them turn to stare at our progress, their eyes following us as we cross the floor, conversation forgotten until we’re gone. Eventually, we get to a set of sliding glass doors and Barnabe leads us out onto the deck.

  “Here you go, Zoe. The ocean.” He makes a grand gesture and I can’t help myself. I forget how strange it felt to walk through that house and move to the edge of the deck. Put my hands on the rails. Strain to see through the dark. I can’t make out much but there’s a vastness stretching out in front of me, the rhythmic crash of the waves, and another gentle breeze. I hope we stay until morning so I can really see it all.

  There’s a flare of light beside me. Barnabe’s got a ball of energy floating above his open palm. He sends it out, expanding as it gets further away from us, putting out more and more light, until I see the ocean for the first time in my life. I sigh and I smile and I can’t look away.

  Eventually, the light fades. “Thank you,” I say.

  “Your wish, my command and all that.”

  I think he’s got it backwards. You know, master and sword and all that. But I’m not gonna say that out loud. Except I can tell by the wry little twist to his mouth that I don’t have to. Barnabe heard it loud and clear.