by Cal Matthews
“Okay,” I said. “But –”
He looked at me, ignoring Marcus entirely. “Go in through the front. Bring the gun, but don’t antagonize them. Keep him talking, find out as much as you can.”
“Where will you be?”
“Waiting for an opening,” he said shortly. He paused, sighed and then leaned in, his hand gripping my forearm.
“Ebron,” he said softly, his face close to mine. “Everyone else is an acceptable loss. Keep yourself safe, okay?”
I nodded, moving forward to get closer, but he pulled back, his eyes flickering to Marcus. My stomach dropped painfully. For a tiny second, his hand trailed up past my shoulder and cupped my cheek, but before I could even lean into the touch, he slid out of the driver’s seat. The door slammed shut behind me and he disappeared into the darkness.
Chapter Nineteen
Leo took with him all the warmth and all my courage.
“Oh, God,” I huffed to myself, scrambling gracelessly into the driver’s seat. I adjusted the mirror, seeing the familiar truck idling half a block down.
Marcus scooted a little closer. “You okay?” he said, rubbing my back. I pushed him away without thinking about it, his closeness suffocating. He let his arm fall away, but the concerned look didn't leave his face. I couldn't imagine how he was feeling, and I didn’t want to care.
“I didn't expect him to take it so easy,” Marcus said after a beat.
“Uh, me neither.” I jiggled the stick, but didn’t pull back into traffic. I felt frozen with fear.
“So what do we do now?” Marcus asked in a small voice. I looked at him tiredly. Emotions were muted, unable to leak through my dazed numbness. Looking at him I felt nothing more than resignation.
“We go to the store,” I said. My own voice surprised me, at how calm and sure I sounded. Shouldn't I have been freaking out a little more? “We try not to die,” I added and that felt a little better.
“I'll go with you,” Marcus said.
“Obviously,” I snapped, and he grimaced.
“I meant,” he said stiffly, “that I’ll back you up.”
I nodded. I felt him studying my face, but in the growing darkness of the truck I couldn't make out his expression. Even with the heater running, the air between us felt frozen.
“Hey,” he said softly. “It was good, huh?”
“Yeah,” I replied, just as quietly. “It was.”
“I'm sorry if I ruined anything for you.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly thick with emotion.
“You know,” he continued, scooting a little closer. “Maybe you could think about coming down to Colorado for a bit. After this is all over, I mean.”
“Why would I do that?” I said.
I didn't have to see him to know that he winced and looked away. “Forget it,” he said to the frosted window.
“No, why would I do that?” I said again. I could feel anger rising in my chest, making my blood pound. It didn't matter that it was all my own fault; at that moment I very badly wanted to pick a fight and I wanted to lose my temper and I hoped that he would lose his, too. Maybe if he didn't fight back I could just hop out of the truck and go hit a tree until all the bones in my hand were broken and this horrible hysterical madness in me went away.
“I just thought - “
“We fucked, Marcus. Now we're going to go find your friends so that you can go home. That's it.”
“You brought me back from the dead!” he cried, apropos of nothing.
“And I'm really fucking regretting it right now!”
He made a low, disgusted noise and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. There was a vibration against my thigh, and I dug out my phone.
“My cousin is calling me,” I said in short, clipped syllables.
He gave a little wave, like by all means. I scowled and thumbed my phone.
“Cody,” I said.
“Ebron, did you get my message?” He sounded strange, his voice higher than its usual low timber with an urgency that wasn't like him.
“I did, yeah. I was going -”
“Something's going on, Ebron.”
My foot tapping the accelerator too hard and the truck jerked forward a hair.
“What is it?”
“I just drove by your shop. There’re people inside, and lights on and your truck ain’t there.”
I reflexively checked all my mirrors, darting glances around the nearly empty streets looking for Cody’s familiar truck. “Where are you?’ I asked.
“Parked down the street,” he said and I recognized the wobble in his voice.
“Were you at Shooter’s?” I asked and the half beat of silence that followed was answer enough.
“Yeah, man, but I’m good,” Cody said shrilly. “I’m fine. I only had a few...”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marcus lean forward, peering out of the window. I followed his gaze. A few blocks down, the back lot of my building was just visible, but that wasn’t what I focused on. The police cruiser turning the corner was a lot more alarming.
“Cody, go home,” I said into the phone.
“Dude, I can help. Are you in trouble?”
“No! I don’t know. Cody, just go home.”
“Are there dead people? Are you going to bring them ba-”
“Go home,” I told him and thumbed the off button. Beside me, Marcus had gone stock-still, his body turned towards me.
For several long seconds, I could do nothing but stare at the phone in my hand. My heart thundered in my temples.
“Ebron?” Marcus asked timidly, and the sound of his voice released something in me, made something snap.
“Fuck!” I pounded the steering wheel with my fist. “Fuck fuck fuck!” I kept hitting, aware vaguely I was screaming. I screamed again, because the first one had felt so good. I kept screaming and hitting until my throat closed and the skin across my knuckles split and bled.
The anger abruptly drained out of me. I slumped over, breathing heavily and cradling my hand in my lap. It felt good then, just to breathe.
“I don't know what to do,” Marcus said suddenly into the silence of the cab. “You're scaring me.”
“Please shut the fuck up.”
“Don't talk to me like that!” he snapped in reply, and I lifted my head. We looked at each other until it got uncomfortable and he looked away.
“I mean,” I amended, “Please give me a second to think.”
“Fine.”
“Marcus.” I touched his hand, and was surprised when he didn't repulse me. He curled his fingers around mine and held on and somehow the touch felt anchoring. He was a lying, manipulative little shit, but I had still held his soul in my hands. That counted for something.
“That was my cousin,” I said evenly. The anger seemed to have passed. I felt curiously numb again, my emotions held back firmly behind a haze of calm.
“Your witches are there,” I said and I felt him jerk a little, his hand squeezing mine. “At least, I think so. He said there are people already in the shop.”
“Ebron, I don't have anything to do with any of this, I swear.”
I squeezed his hand, squeezing until I felt the delicate bones shifting, until he cried out, trying to pull free.
“I don't fucking believe you,” I snarled, and released him. Everything was happening too fast. I raked my hand over my head, pressing my heels into the tired hollows of my eyes and made a low moan that might have turned into a sob if Marcus hadn't reached for me again, gripping my shoulder firmly. I looked at him, tears spilling over, my vision blurring.
“I'm sorry,” he said urgently. “But I really don't have anything to do with this. Really. We have to work together here, Ebron! What did your cousin say?”
“Just that there are people in my store, lights on. Obviously, they’ve been expecting us.”
His eyebrows drew together, the corner of his lips turning down. “Are you sure it’s Corvin? It could be someone else.”
“Who the fuck else would it be?” I almost shouted, but took a breath, looking straight out the window.
“Hmm.” He kept his hand on my shoulder, and I had to restrain myself from shrugging it off.
“Well,” he said. “Let's go. Let me do the talking all right?”
I didn't reply. He wouldn't have liked what I had to say.
I gunned the engine. The truck bounced through the rocky slush piling on the roads. It had started to snow again, heavy flakes blinding me in the reflection of my headlights. We abandoned any attempt at polite conversation and drove to the whir of my truck's heater.
“Are you parking in front?” Marcus asked
“They know we’re coming,” I said shortly, glancing in the rearview. The truck tailing us was less than half a block behind.
Marcus glanced at me. “Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“What are you thinking?”
I sighed, exasperated. “I'm th . . . king that I don't want to end up dead. I don't want Leo dead. Fuck, I even don't want you dead . . . again.”
“I just don’t see Corvin as a killer.”
“They already killed you, Marcus. Did you forget? Did I tell you how they did it? They cut your stomach open. Your guts were hanging out. Your intestines were hanging down to your knees. I could see your liver.”
He blanched and turned away. I wasn't done, though.
“They did it to Aubrey, too. You know, the teenager I visited today? Gutted her like a fucking fish. How can you not see him as a killer?”
“Because, because -” his hands curled into fists, and he slammed them against his own thighs. “Because that's not what we do! Jim would never allow -”
“Fuck Jim!” I snapped back. “They killed you, and now we’re walking right in there and -”
“But why?” he cut in, his voice almost a wail. “Why do all this? I don't understand!”
“Don't tell me you guys weren't in on it-”
“We weren't!” he shouted. “I swear, Ebron! I fucking swear! Do you think I volunteered? That I offered to be killed?”
“But you knew about me. At least admit that.”
“No. I didn't. I went into your shop -.” He stopped, sighing. “Corvin suggested it He said that your store had supplies we couldn’t get anywhere else. And . . . you were there. I didn't - there wasn't any ulterior motive. At least not until I saw your ass.” He lifted his eyes and gave me a quick smile that melted away almost before I saw it.
“But I swear, Ebron. I didn't know anything about you. They might have known about you, but I didn't.”
I stared straight ahead, refusing to be moved by this declaration. But something in me was trembling, and I took his hand before I could think about it and stop myself.
“I'm really fucking relieved,” I said. A little knot of hysterical laughter worked its way loose of my chest. “I thought that you set me up!”
“No, God, babe, I wouldn't -” he tried to get closer to me, sliding across the bench seat and pressing his thigh against mine, wrapping his arms around me as best he could with my hands still on the wheel.
I took the comfort, but not without some unease. I steeled myself; I still couldn't trust him, not until I could see him interact with these other witches. Fuck, I hated walking into this. Every instinct in me told me to run, that I was walking into my own death.
I pulled into the front lot of my store. Light spilled out from the front windows, casting long shadows against the snowy gravel. Shadows moved against the closed blinds, as though someone inside was peeking out, waiting for us. No other cars sat in the lot, but just as I put the truck into park headlights flashed, momentarily blinding me. Marcus and I froze, waiting with bated breath as the police cruiser slowly inched past. I couldn’t see into the dark interior, couldn’t tell if it was Chad Metz behind the wheel, but I felt the eyes on us all the same.
Marcus and I exhaled in unison when the police cruiser turned the corner and disappeared from sight.
“Tell me quick,” I said to Marcus. “What magic can they use against me?'
He looked uneasy, glancing out at the darkness and swallowing hard. “I don't know what Morgan and Corvin are capable of. Jim and Shaina can't do anything to hurt you, I mean - not that I know of.”
“Humor me, then. What are the possibilities?”
“Well . . .” he looked down at his own hands, laced together on his lap. “I am betting that they have some sort of protection spell that will make it harder to hurt them. And probably barriers that will prevent us from leaving as soon as we walk into the circle.”
“The circle?”
“Yeah, I'm betting they cast a circle. We'll be trapped inside it.”
“Seriously? They can do that?”
“I think they can.”
I reached to turn off the ignition and took a couple of deep breaths. I felt like I should have done something more significant to mark what was probably going to be my death. I should have at least said goodbye to Johnny, made arrangements for him. I could send a text to Dahlia - tell her to take him.
“They don't know about Leo,” Marcus said suddenly, not looking at me.
“What?”
“That I am aware,” he added quickly. “I mean, I didn't know about him, and I don't think that they do.”
I laughed humorlessly. “Leo’s the least of your worries right now, Marcus.”
“No, I know. But they shouldn't know about him. That's all. Who knows what they would do to catch a vampire.”
I reached into the backseat of the truck and grabbed my gun, checking to make sure it was loaded. Its weight in my hands made me feel a whole lot better.
“All right,” I said. “Let's go.”
I sounded a lot braver than I felt. Right then, running seemed like the absolute best idea, just to fucking take off into the hills and find a cave to hide in.
I slid my fingers around the door handle, but when Marcus didn’t move, I paused too. “What?” I asked.
“I guess they’re coming, too?” he asked and I followed his gaze to the side mirror, where I could see another truck pulling up behind us.
I cut my eyes to Marcus and he tilted his head, his eyes searching my face for answers.
“Stay here,” I told him.
“No way,” he replied.
“I think I know them.”
“The girl?” Marcus asked immediately, and I couldn’t tell if I was surprised.
“Yeah,” I said. “Fuck.”
“What?”
“It’s her boyfriend, I think. And his dad. They’ve been looking for her murderer.”
He looked blank for a second, and I realized the word “murderer” was throwing him off. I huffed a little in exasperation and he frowned.
“Murderer, Marcus,” I snapped at him. “Aubrey was murdered. You were murdered. Remember? You just didn't stay that way.”
“So they are looking for Corvin?”
“It's not like they can go to the police.”
“But you fixed her.”
“But someone still killed her!” I shouted, and the way he recoiled was satisfying. “You keep skipping over that part. That guy fucking killed her, Marcus, and if you think that her family will just forget about it . . .” I trailed off, shaking my head. Marcus stared at me, his expression frozen. I opened my mouth to tell him off some more, but at that second something slammed into the passenger's side window and we both jumped.
A pale shape appeared at the window, staring in and Marcus scrambled frantically backwards, climbing nearly into my lap in his effort to get away.
I shoved at him, staring at the face and when I recognized Cody, my racing heart gave a leap and then tried to settle.
“Stop it, stop,” I said to Marcus, grabbing at him as he tried to use me as a human shield. “It's Cody. It's my cousin.”
He stilled some, and I gave him a gentle push to get him off my lap. Marcus's sides heaved, but he gathered himself wi
th wounded dignity and fumbled for the door handle. Cody stepped back to allow the door to swing open and then was crowding in, his face white and his eyes wild.
“Cody,” I said cautiously, the look on his face making all sorts of alarm bells go off in my head.
“There’s bodies,” he said without preamble, and then looked towards the idling truck, licking his lips.
Marcus and I exchanged a glance.
“Cody,” I repeated, and he looked back at me. He seemed to take in Marcus for the first time and his eyes widened a little.
“Fuck, man,” he said, one hand coming up like he was going to poke at Marcus's chest but thought better of it.
“I saw you,” he told Marcus.
“Okay.” Marcus said calmly. “Thanks.”
“What bodies, Cody?” I said, and Cody's eyes flitted back to me.
“Inside,” he said promptly. “I looked in the window. Did you bring your gun? Good, let's go.”
I had long ago lost control of this situation. “Cody, stop,” I hissed. He didn’t though, turning towards the building, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
We got out of the truck, and Cody didn't wait to give any more explanations. I followed him, his manic urgency contagious. Behind me, Marcus muttered a low curse but then he stepped up beside me, his expression oscillating between scared and straight up annoyed.
I lunged forward and grabbed hold of Cody’s arm. Behind us, I heard the metallic squeak of a car door opening. Beneath my hand, Cody tensed.
“Ebron,” Marcus warned.
Crunchy footsteps announced our visitors, and I turned to face them.
“Scott,” I greeted. “Cameron.”
“Ebron,” Scott said cautiously. He cradled a rifle in his arms and I saw him glance at my own gun, giving me a quick once over. He frowned at Cody, who swayed beside me with alarming intensity, but his eyes stuck on Marcus and stayed glued there.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I told Scott.
“If you’re about to go talk to the people who did it, then we’re in the right place,” Scott replied calmly.
I scowled and gave Cody a shake for good measure. A whiff of cheap whiskey rose from Cody’s coat as he jerked his arm out of my grasp.
“You shouldn’t be here, either,” I whispered to him.
