by Emma Savant
There had been one other place worth checking. I pulled out my phone to plug in the address and see how far it was, and saw a text from Alec.
Alec: Everything’s quiet here. Hope your designs are coming along!
He was too sweet and too willing to help. A pang of guilt at lying to him like this hit me.
But I’d had to lie. If he’d known this was the reason I’d skipped out on my job for the night, he never would have let me come alone.
I turned to slide back down the roof of Sticks & Stones. In the distance, across the ruffled canopy of bamboo leaves that stretched out in every direction from the shop, a cluster of plants moved.
I tensed and focused. In between the darkening sky and the foliage, I couldn’t see well enough to tell whether it had been a bird or a deer or something far more sinister.
The party continued behind me as someone turned up the volume on the music. Out in the distance, from another direction, more leaves rustled.
I crouched on the roof and held absolutely still, eyes straining against the hazy dusk. There was another rustle from a different direction, and then another.
Birds and deer didn’t act like this.
The Humdrums were surrounded.
I quickly calculated how many wolves were hidden in the bamboo and how far apart they were. My estimate was wobbly, but it was clear I was outnumbered, and the Humdrums at the party were barely less so. If the wolves were in their human form and I could move quietly enough, I had a shot at taking out a few of them before the rest attacked. If they sensed me coming and shifted, I didn’t have a chance.
My heart pounded, and my mind raced through every conceivable outcome. I had enough wolfsbane to deal with a few of the wolves, but there was only one of me and there were many of them—and they were fast, and stronger than I could ever hope to be.
I didn’t want to call in my sisters. I was supposed to be the future Stiletto, and these bigger jobs, assigned or not, were my way of proving myself. And even if I had wanted the help, I couldn’t stand the thought of bringing the other members of my coven in when werewolves were involved. There was already too much tension and prejudice in the house, and this could only make it worse by affirming all their worst beliefs.
Below me, the children started playing tag in the yard just off the patio. A small girl with dark hair darted under the cover of the bamboo and hid behind a cluster of slender branches.
I bit back the shout that rose to my throat.
The wolves were still keeping their distance, perhaps waiting for darkness or the aid of a moon. But if they chose to move, they would be fast.
I didn’t have a choice. I wrapped my hand around the bronze dagger charm that lay under my shirt. I sent out a call for help, a mental image of my location matched with a feeling of urgency.
Werewolves, I thought. Hurry.
17
The instant the charm cooled under my skin, meaning at least one of my sisters had heard the call, I clambered over the peak of the roof and slid down, removing my glamour with a snap as I went. I skidded down the shingles and dropped to the ground in a crouch.
The Humdrums all around seemed too startled to be upset. A dozen pairs of curious eyes focused on me, and one of the children who’d been looking in the right direction shouted, “Whoa!”
Instantly, he was tagged, and he shouted at the other kid about what he’d seen and the unfairness of him being it.
I spun to the woman I’d identified earlier as the birthday twins’ mother.
“You need to get the kids inside,” I said.
My voice was sharp and to the point, and she moved before her mind could catch up with the bizarre nature of the moment. Her husband reached out a hand to stop her.
“Who are you?” he demanded, still more puzzled than angry at the intrusion.
“I’m a private detective,” I said, with the kind of confidence that usually got people to believe lies like that. “I got a tip that someone might try to hurt your kids. I’ve been watching your party. The bad guys are on your property. You need to get these children inside, now.”
He gaped at me for a moment, and I watched the thoughts pass across his face until he realized that, whether I was crazy or not, or right or not, or even real or not, it wasn’t worth an argument if that meant risking his kids. He turned and barked orders at the other adults to round up their children.
I watched the periphery of the lawn for any sign that the wolves were speeding up their attack, but they still seemed far enough away that they couldn’t see or hear what was happening on the patio, or at least not clearly enough. I jogged toward the edge of the lawn as kids and parents walked quickly past me and into the house. One of the mothers was babbling, and her voice was taking on a frantic edge.
“Briar,” she said. “Where’s Briar?”
It took me a moment to realize Briar was a name, not a plant. I turned sharply back to where I’d seen the small, dark-haired girl disappear.
“Little?” I said. “Black braids?”
She nodded, her eyes huge.
“I’ll get her,” I said. “Go inside with the others.”
“No,” she said flatly.
I sighed and pointed toward the trees. “She went that way. If you see anyone else out there, come back to the house.” I grabbed her shoulder. “Move slowly.”
It’s harder when people run, Alec had told me once when I’d been peppering him with questions about the werewolves. Our instinct is to chase, even if we don’t mean them any harm.
I knew the woman wasn’t listening, and I knew there was nothing I could do short of strong-arming her to keep her from searching for her daughter. I understood the impulse, but it made my job harder.
Now that I was on the ground, I’d lost all sense of the approaching werewolves. I didn’t know how close they were or if they could see us yet.
Never one to take my own advice, I ran at top speed into the trees.
It was dark here, and starting to get cold. While the woman called out her daughter’s name in an increasingly panicked voice, I dropped to a crouch and tried to see the thick bamboo from a child’s perspective. A gap in the bright green stems caught my attention. It was a little wider than the others, so I slipped through it. Not far after that I picked up the girl’s footsteps. I found her sitting on her heels, staring intently at a bug on the ground with a small keychain flashlight.
“Hey, Briar?” I said softly.
She looked up and shone her light at my face. She shrank back as she realized she didn’t recognize me. I crouched next to her and pushed the light gently away.
“Your mom’s trying to find you,” I said. “You need to come back to the house, okay?”
She narrowed her eyes at me, and I silently wished parents these days weren’t quite so good at teaching stranger danger.
But I didn’t have time to earn the little girl’s trust. She wasn’t moving, so I scooped her up and held her tightly in my arms. She struggled and managed to get one foot free, and a shoe went flying when she kicked. She tried to scream, but I already had one hand pressed over her mouth. She bit down and pinched skin between her teeth.
“You’re pretty tough,” I muttered, keeping my tone conversational and trying not to wince.
I didn’t like playing the part of a kidnapper, but it would be a thousand times worse if her scream managed to let these werewolves lock in on her. I remembered the words they’d used to refer to the people here, prime meat, and picked up my pace.
The girl’s mom spotted us, and I ran past her toward the house with the squirming child still in my arms. The mom sprinted after me, and once they were back on the patio, I shoved her daughter toward her.
“Draw the curtains,” I said. “Don’t lose sight of your kids.”
“Who are you?” the woman said. She cut herself off angrily, and added, “Never mind. We’re going home.”
I caught a hint of movement in the trees, something dark and enormous. I grabbed the woman
by the arm.
“You won’t make it to the car,” I said in a low voice.
Her eyes met mine, and her hands gripped tightly around her child. I shoved her toward the door, where two kids were watching us with big eyes.
“Lock the doors,” I called as she stumbled through. “Lock everything. Don’t look or come out until I come to get you.”
The door slammed before I was sure they’d heard me. It didn’t matter what they saw anyway—at this rate, everyone at the party would need their memories erased.
I couldn’t wait to have that on my Dagger training record.
I had my blade out by the time I’d turned to face the shape in the trees.
It was a werewolf, there was no question about that now. The patio lights barely penetrated the dark shadows beneath the bamboo, but they were enough to illuminate a pair of fierce yellow eyes that flashed at me.
My heart pounded in my ears. One werewolf was bad enough. But I could feel more of them out there, and shadows shifted in the corners of my eyes as they crept out from under the trees.
There were at least six edging their way onto the lawn. Goddess only knew how many more would come after.
“Go home,” I ordered the wolf nearest me.
He was still a good twenty feet away, a distance that was nothing to a creature with such powerful legs.
He stepped forward. A growl started low in his throat.
I took a deep, steadying breath and let it out again. If they attacked—if they decided witch meat was as good as Humdrum, or were angry with me for ruining their sport—I wouldn’t even have time to scream.
18
The wolf growled again and took another step. Its paws were massive.
“These people are under my protection,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Go chase some deer.”
Did werewolves even hunt deer? The tiny part of my brain not preoccupied with the monster in front of me was bemused to realize I had never asked Brendan or Alec.
The werewolf bared his teeth, and another wolf snarled behind me. A tingle of fear ran down my spine.
“These are innocent people,” I said, as if that would mean anything to monsters like this.
One of the wolves in the yard howled, and painful goosebumps prickled across my skin. Deep in the stands of greenery, other wolves howled back, and then I heard the hollow sound of bamboo trunks crashing together as the werewolves raced toward the clearing.
Slowly, I inched my hand to the pocket of my jacket. The wolf in front of me snarled and took another step forward.
“I have wolfsbane bombs,” I said. They were tiny, barely more than smoke bombs, but I still cringed at using them after knowing the destruction similar weapons had wreaked on the Wildwood pack. “You can attack me, but you won’t be fast enough to stop them going off. Have you ever encountered wolfsbane before?”
The wolf growled but hesitated.
“It’s agony,” I said. “Your throat closes up. Your skin erupts with boils and lesions. Your eyes cloud over, and you don’t even notice because the pain is blinding.”
Brendan had told me all this, late one night while I’d been helping clear the opening to their den. I still remembered the tightness of his voice as he’d spoken.
I edged my fingertips a millimeter closer to my pocket. The movement was small enough that most people would never have noticed, but he had a werewolf’s eyes, and they missed nothing.
The soft thuds of more heavy bodies stepping into the yard behind me competed with the pounding of my heart, but I kept my gaze fixed on the wolf in front of me. I didn’t know if he was important in the pack hierarchy, but at least I had his attention.
“I don’t have a problem with werewolves,” I said, dagger still outstretched. “If you want to run free in the forests or form packs or even turn consenting people, that’s your business. But you’re here to hunt innocents, and I can’t allow that. If you want to transform, I’m willing to talk.”
The seconds ticked by. No one moved.
“Then you’re welcome to leave,” I said. I shifted my finger slightly down, and my fingertips grazed the edge of the pocket. “You get one chance, and you’ll be happiest if you take it.”
In a deft motion, I pulled one of the bombs out and held it up. The thing was small, no bigger than the palm of my hand.
Revealing it was the wrong choice.
The wolf snarled and jumped toward me, and I ducked and threw myself to the side at the same instant. I tightened my grip on the bomb an instant too late, and it rolled into the grass. I spun to face the wolf as death clouded the edges of my vision—
But he wasn’t coming after me. He lay on his side, twitching, a thick arrow sticking out of his chest. I blinked, hard, and the giant figures of several other wolves emerged from the trees, followed by the smaller, lighter figures of women pouring onto the backyard.
My sisters arrived, and the yard transformed in an instant to a battlefield.
Ginger tossed me a shining silver sword. I caught it by the handle without considering the danger of a miss. This was a reflex honed by years of training, and I didn’t have to think before I slid my dagger into its sheath and sliced the blade through the air and into the shoulder of the nearest werewolf.
Blood gushed from the wound and filled the air with its tang. The wolf yelped and red dripped from the gash and onto the grass. The creature bolted for the trees. I sensed the presence of another wolf behind me and spun. I drove the sword deep into its chest, then ripped it back out and turned to the next attacker.
Flashes of crimson and pink surrounded me as my sisters fought to defend the house. Robin stood next to the door, firing arrows at anyone who dared approach the building, and Mom stood at the edge of the patio with her sword flaring in the lights as she swung it with the precision of a master.
“Why didn’t anyone bring guns?” I shouted to Ginger.
She stabbed upwards and a werewolf’s full weight descended onto her blade, sending her skidding to one side. She shoved the creature with a quick spell and yanked the sword back out.
“Too loud,” she said. “The image you sent made it seem like we should keep things quiet.”
“Fair enough!”
I swung my sword. The pressure of the hilt shifted against my hands as the blade carved through muscle and bone. A shaggy leg fell to the ground, and the werewolf it had been attached to let out a horrible yelp and galloped clumsily toward the trees.
The battle didn’t last long. It couldn’t, now that we were almost evenly matched, with overconfident werewolves pitted against the decades of skill and precision that belonged to the Crimson Daggers.
The last wolf ran into the trees. Its hulking body smashed bamboo stems aside, and in an instant, it had disappeared into the darkness.
19
Stillness and silence overtook the yard. I dropped my weapon and bent over double to catch my breath. My heart still pounded, and my body flooded with tingling relief.
I stood and started laughing.
“Your timing could not have been better,” I said.
“Better would have gotten us here before you had a wolf on top of you,” Ginger said. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” I looked out at the giant werewolf bodies and limbs strewn across the lawn. There weren’t many of them, but even the two dead werewolves were large enough to make the yard seem filled.
My heart convulsed at the sight of the corpses.
Crimson Daggers didn’t kill if we could help it. But the mission came first, always, and sometimes protecting the innocent meant destroying the monsters we faced.
I didn’t mind so much when the monsters were things like basilisks and cockatrices. But these were people. Evil people, yes. The kind of people who would attack and murder and maybe even eat children, yes. But still people. Still dead.
“A cleanup team’s already been called,” Mom said, coming up beside us. “Erasers, too. Cherry said they�
�ll be here soon.”
I nodded. Erasers were a critical part of keeping the Glimmering world secret from the Humdrums. These specialists, highly trained in magic and psychology, would be able to wipe all memory of this incident from the minds of the people still huddled in the house.
“I’d better stay until they get here,” I said. “I told the Humdrums not to come out until I came for them.”
“You did good,” Mom said, surveying the yard. Her black hair was disheveled and falling out of its usual French braid, and she was flushed with the exertion of the battle. She turned a sharp eye on me. “I sure would like to know why you were here, though.”
I swallowed. “I’ll tell you and Grandma everything when we get back.”
“Related to the Straw job?” Mom said. “Grandma said there was a werewolf.”
“The Straw job, and a tip from the Wildwoods,” I said.
Ginger turned to frown at me. “This wasn’t their pack?”
“Of course not.” My voice was sharper than I intended, and I swallowed back my irritation.
She tapped on the handle of her sword. “Good.”
“It’s thanks to them that I found out about this,” I said. “I never would have figured it out without Brendan’s help.”
Ginger seemed to consider. After a long moment, she shrugged. “I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect that. It was decent of them.”
I opened my mouth to say that of course it had been decent, because they weren’t exactly an indecent group of people, and why did she insist on jumping to the worst conclusions anyway—but Mom put a hand on my arm and gave me a look. It wasn’t a warning, exactly, but it was a reminder: a reminder that I was the future Stiletto, and I had to stay calm and listen to the thoughts of my coven.
I swallowed. “It was,” I said. “Yes, I agree.”
Clancy swiped disinfectant across my skin and I winced. I hadn’t noticed how many scrapes I’d gotten until long after I’d talked to the Erasers and helped them round up the party guests. Now that I was back at the mansion, my body was busy alerting me to every cut and bruise.
