Dark Secrets: A Paranormal Romance Anthology
Page 147
“Sometimes you think too much, big bro.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Our Team is more than just a group of fighters. If you don’t want to label them family, that’s fine. But we stick.”
Sage punches his other arm. “Like gum.”
I laugh. “Like glue.”
“Like snot after a hella sneeze,” Sage says, tossing her pink braid over her shoulder.
“Damn,” Keller says, shaking his head and struggling not to laugh. “You two are relentless. I get it. I’m sure the fellas will appreciate all this love.”
I sober as an idea takes form. “How quickly can you get them all back here?”
“Very quick. Why?”
I glance at Esmeralda, who is still sleeping. “I have a plan, but we’re going to need even more reinforcements.”
“You doubting our capabilities?” Keller asks with a taunting smile.
Sage is right. I’m not the most open person. I’m working on it. “Never that,” I answer and kiss him soundly on the lips.
Sage sighs, and I detect a hint of whimsical envy. I’ve got to figure out a way to get Sage and Grant together. Archery isn’t my strong suit, but I’d make a wicked-ass cupid.
Esmeralda groans. The love boat will have to sail later. “This is bigger than us,” I say. “Cross is wicked powerful, and he’s got an army that he’s continuing to expand.” I remember being held in his cold prison with his half-starved vamps, and I shudder. The basement was full of unfed vampires who wanted to drain me and rip me to shreds. My neck still burns when I think about that one contaminated bite. Thank God Keller had shown up when he had. I look at him now and I know he’s remembering too. It turned out okay. I’d gone all kinds of girly and declared my undying love. Okay, not really. But as closer to it than ever before.
“Who do you have in mind?” Sage asks.
Pulling my mind out of the past, I ask, “Is Cassy working right now?”
Sage looks toward the clock on the microwave. “I think so, why?”
“Ah… I know where you’re going with this. I like how you think.” Keller smiles. “Since Ilya isn’t here, I’ll grab Esmeralda.”
“I’m so confused,” Sage says with a frown.
I throw her my most dazzling smile. “You’ve got to come, Sage. This is going to be a blast.”
“Come where?”
“First to get Cassy. She can lead us to the coven. It’s time to call in the witches.”
Chapter Twenty-four
The witches of the Nashville coven have made their new home on the outskirts of the city. Cassy jumped on the idea of helping us before I could even give her specifics. She’d told me she’d been chomping at the bit to be included on a hunt. Huh. Who knew? This particular hunt will prove to be especially exciting for her. Very apropos for her first time. Witches and pixies have never been friends. That rivalry stems from the battles of long ago, back in a time when streets didn’t exist and wars were aplenty. Pixies play by their own set of rules, which are a far cry from fair, and the witch community didn’t appreciate the backstabbing and undermining that had caused them to lose some title they’d held for decades, and ultimately the land they’d called home. History is not my strong suit, but I know it’s written down somewhere.
There’s more than that, though. Witches are basically humans with elemental powers, some born, most learned and cultivated over time with boatloads of intense and exhausting practice. They are susceptible to human disease and illnesses. They don’t even get to live longer than any other human. Witches really do hold the short end of the stick in the supernatural department. When I’d explained to Cassy that drugs manufactured by the pixies had killed several humans, she’d informed me that the same drug had killed a member of their coven. They just hadn’t known the pixies were responsible.
Until now. Thanks to me. Esmeralda had talked about a war. I say, bring it on.
When I’d learned the witches were holding a vigil, I had had no idea how closely their fight was linked with mine. Pixie Dust, in one fashion or another, is affecting every faction of Nashville. The side of the line toed is really the only separation.
After Cassy had given the basic directions, we’d collectively decided walking was out of the question. So we’d all piled into the van Crimson Beat uses to lug around their gear. The large, white monstrosity is held together by nothing more than rust and botched welding attempts. With five oversized vampires, one dainty-fanged she-vamp, Cassy, and me, the fit is tight—not to mention the van is in need of new shocks—or any shocks period. I swear my brain rattles around in my head every time we hit the slightest bump in the road. I’m a little worried the floor is going to drop out from under me. Keller assures me the van, affectionately known as Beast, is indestructible. I have serious doubts the Beast could hold its own against a dirt road, let alone the weight of its current occupants.
“Remember,” Cassy says, while holding on to the back of the driver’s seat for support. Since we pulled her right off her shift, she’s wearing her short jean skirt, Wolfie’s t-shirt, and cowboy boots. “We’re still in mourning,” she continues. I’ve noticed Alex glancing at her long legs several times throughout the ride. “And they won’t appreciate me bringing in outsiders. If it’s okay with all of you, I’ll do the talking.”
“Got it,” I say before anyone else can offer an opinion. I know what it’s like to have someone close die. You’re left feeling angry, raw, and capable of just about anything. Including mass murder. Been there, almost done that.
Matthew hits a pothole. Keller grabs me before I smack my face on the side of the van. Cassy falls backward, spilling right into Alex’s lap. She tugs her skirt back into place, and accidentally—I think—nails Alex in his nads. Alex grumbles something incoherent, picks her up by her elbows and puts her back in her previous spot.
Cassy glares at Alex. “I’d say thank you if you hadn’t been such a brute about it.”
Alex glares right back, his eyes nothing more than thin slits. “I’d say you’re welcome if I cared about your gratitude.”
Everyone laughs except Cassy and Alex.
This ride has turned into a tin can full of fun. Not to mention a sweatbox. The air conditioning inside Beast is non-existent, even though I hear something hissing and gurgling through the vents. Apparently, I’m destined to a summer full of faulty air units and buckets of sweat. Pulling my hair to the side, I split it into three sections and braid it tightly. The van only has two seats. Matthew is driving and Luc had called shotgun. Genius. If I had known I’d have to sit on the floor, I’d have arm-wrestled him for dibs on the passenger seat. Keller is sitting next to me. I scoot closer to him and sigh. He’s better than any air conditioner. His skin is as soothing as the cold side of a pillow.
After about twenty minutes, Cassy taps Matthew on the shoulder. “You can pull over here.”
I get on my knees and edge my way between the bucket seats to look out the windshield. Prickles of uncertainty cover my skin and I purse my lips in thought. I’m way out of my element. Give me city lights or give me death. “You sure? There’s nothing out here.” The road ahead is long, narrow, and dark. The woods on either side are even darker. The trees are in full bloom, creating a canopy over the old two-lane highway. We’re on the set of a slasher movie, except there are no cameras and this is all too real. I don’t like it. Only a bunch of idiots would stop here.
“I’m sure.”
That does it. I’m getting a can of spray paint and tagging this bitch. The Idiot Crew.
Matthew pulls to the side of the road, and Beast sputters to a stop before settling with a groan and a shudder. Matthew turns the engine off and Beast wheezes like an asthmatic horse a shotgun away from death. Keller unlocks the back door and kicks them hard with both feet. We crawl out, and I stretch my cramped limbs. I’m not a prude and I’ve never had luxury, but Beast is more worthy of a junkyard than any kind of travel.
A shiver that has nothing to do with the temperature runs
along my spine. I look up past the overgrown trees, and see thick clouds gliding along the sky to cover the last sliver of moonlight. There goes nature’s flashlight. Darkness wraps around my team like a smothering flannel blanket on a ninety-degree day.
“Well, this is creepy,” Sage says.
Very. Once again, she’s surprised me. I thought for sure she’d stay behind. Palm meet forehead. I swear, sometimes I can be the poster child for ignorance. Sage is here because Grant is here. Can I get a duh, anyone?
“At least you can see,” I tell her. I’m blinder than a bat wearing sunglasses. Vampires have it so easy. I don’t know why they complain all the time.
I’m not complaining.
I lace my fingers through Keller’s. No. You’re not. Care to be my escort through the haunted forest? We can make out while the creepy mask-wearing guy beheads the others.
Brilliant. He squeezes my hand and I shiver again. This time for a completely different reason.
If I could get my arm to light up again, I wouldn’t need his assistance. I’ve been trying since we left Wolfie’s and nothing has happened. I swear someone gift-wrapped frustration and disappointment and handed them to me in a big, shiny box.
“Everyone ready?” Cassy asks. Her voice rings loud and clear, breaking the crushing silence of the night. “It’s not far.”
Come to think of it, why is it so quiet? Where are the crickets? Why aren’t the leaves rustling in the wind that’s blowing my hair out of its braid?
“Anyone else feel an ambush coming on?”
I’m with Alex. But I know Cassy a little better than him, and I’m choosing to trust her. That doesn’t mean my guard isn’t up. It’s up. Way up. Like a rocket launching into space up.
“Alex,” Cassy says, drawing his name out in a teasing, yet assuredly degrading lilt. “If you’re too scared, you can stay in the van.”
I bark out a laugh. I can’t see them, but I picture Cassy’s and Alex’s heads butting against each other like dueling rams.
Alex remains silent. I do hear something that sounds an awful lot like grinding molars.
“Now, children,” I say in my best principal voice. “Didn’t your mamas teach you that when boys and girls pick on each other, it means love is blossoming? Cue the music and break out the champagne. We’ve got ourselves a wedding in the making.”
Keller nearly chokes next to me. Luc laughs hysterically, and I picture him doubled over, slapping his knee. I hear a snort, but can’t tell if it’s Matthew or Grant.
Someone had better get me a bow and arrow for Christmas. I’m better at matchmaking than that diaper-wearing Cupid any day of the week.
“Ha,” Cassy says.
I have no idea what she means by that. She probably doesn’t either. Total defense mechanism.
Alex is still silent. Which tells me, I’ve hit a mark. Nailed it on the first try.
“Let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got a date later,” Luc says, his voice light, and dare I say…merry? Yeah. The promise of dinner and sex will make any man happy.
“A date with your hand,” Alex responds.
He’s finally found his voice, and here I was getting all worried about him. I giggle to myself.
“Which,” Luc says, “is one more date than you’ve had in a month, Big Al.”
“You better start walking, Cassy, before someone gets hurt.” As fun as this bantering is to hear, we’ve got pressing matters and a ticking clock. While working with vampires has definite advantages, the time restrictions are a bitch. I need to consider expanding my team. Depending on how things pan out tonight, Cassy could very well be in line for a second job. Assuming I get clearance from the Assembly. Easier said than done. Dealing with the Assembly is like wiping my ass with poison ivy.
Keller tugs on my hand and we all start moving. My boots move from asphalt to grass to sticks and plants. I only know this based on feel. Even when a twig snaps under my boot, I hear nothing. Now I know what it feels like to live in a bubble.
“Something isn’t right,” Sage whispers.
“It’ll be fine,” Grant says, his tone reassuring.
Will it? “Why aren’t there any sounds, Cassy?”
“Wards.”
No need to say more. Now it makes perfect sense to me. Relief rushes through me, and I realize a part of me doubted Cassy. Wards are exactly why we’re here. I need the witches to break some down and create another to my specifications. I see the whole thing playing out in my head. I only have to convince them to work with me. That won’t be an easy task, considering I have to leave all the talking to Cassy.
Me and my trust issues.
We walk for another five minutes or so before I see an orange-tinted light filtering through the trees. The light mixing with the leaves on the trees creates a dappled effect on everyone’s skin. At least I can see now. I focus on it and move faster. Patchouli-scented incense chokes the air. My heart hammers against my ribs. I finally feel as if we’re making progress.
Kicking Cross out of Nashville hadn’t been enough. I should have realized he would find his way back into the folds of my city. I knew the whole eviction thing had been way too easy. I’d needed him to sign a treaty—one that would put an exclamation point on the vows every being of the lore took before being released into the human world. No vow. No freedom. At least that’s the way it was supposed to be. Cross was the tie I needed with the darker beings. While they may not trust him, they respected him. They listened. All of this was based on fear, but none of that mattered to me. Not when the end result made the city a safer place for my people.
Sure, Cross had put up a fight, though upon reflection, that had all been for show. An ancient didn’t leave town simply because an employee of the Assembly told him to. He’d left because he’d had bigger plans.
The fact that Cross still has this much control from so far away, makes it far worse somehow. When he was here, I knew what to expect, knew what I had to deal with. Now? He’s capable of anything and I have to find a way to stop him. Ideally forever. I almost laugh at myself. Killing Cross? Nearly impossible. Nearly.
The haunting sounds of a banjo and fiddle break the peculiar silence of the dense woods. The song is a heart-wrenching melody of mourning. Each note plucks at my soul with calloused fingers, and I feel the urge to bow my head and pray. The witches are taking their loss hard. That makes me even more determined to bring Cross to heel.
I stop at the edge of the clearing. My breath mingles with the music, adding a sigh to the end of every fourth bar. Witches of all ages are holding hands and chanting. The winds tease the ends of their hair, lifting the long tresses off their backs. The harmonies flowing from their lips are flawless and ethereal. The coven has grown over the years. Last time I’d seen all the local witches in one spot, their numbers had been surprisingly low. I’d wondered if they’d survive. Many witches across the world have chosen a solitary life. They hide. They don’t practice their magick. They blend more than necessary. If the scene before me is any indication, times are changing, and I think it’s for the better.
Several wooden wagons painted in vibrant shades of reds, oranges, purples and blues, which double as transportation and homes, create a circle around a large bonfire. The flames rise above the tallest wagon, reaching toward the heavens in dance. Several smaller fires are scattered throughout the camp. The whole scene reminds me of a gypsy caravan.
The night air is thick and as hot as bubbling tar. The addition of the raging bonfire takes it beyond stifling, yet I’m drawn to the flames, curious to know what it would feel like to touch them. Before I do something stupid, like throw myself into the fire pit, I jam my hands into my back pockets and clear my throat.
My interruption isn’t necessary. They know we’re here. They knew the moment we stepped foot into their woods. While the streets of Nashville may be mine, this is witch territory. I can respect that.
Cassy steps forward. We follow suit. The moment our shoes touch the grass in the cle
aring, every bent head snaps up. The chanting stops. I suddenly feel like a fly under a microscope. Their gazes are probing, angry, and if we’re not careful, we could find ourselves imprisoned within these wards. If times weren’t so desperate, I’d have given them another week or two to mourn in private. I don’t have that luxury. I nudge Cassy with my elbow.
She nods, leaves our little group, and heads toward the coven leader. I’ve seen Melissa before. She’s only about five foot two and probably weighs a whopping ninety pounds soaking wet, but her aura packs a punch and screams watch your step. Melissa is wearing a dress in a patchwork design of brilliant blues and purples with a bright green threading. The skirt is so long, the hem has collected twigs and leaves. As if her vibe didn’t already scream earthy. Her sleeves cover at least half the length of her slender fingers, and I wonder how she’s not dripping with sweat. On the contrary, she appears to be the picture of calm and cool. Until I look into her eyes. The green orbs are full of anger and determination. Before Cassy even opens her mouth to speak, I know I’ve won. The witches will help me.
“Come here, huntress,” Melissa says. Her tone is so frosty she could make Puerto Rico in August feel like winter in Alaska.
Okay. Maybe this isn’t in the bag.
I move. My badass band of vampires follow. Melissa holds up her hand and we all stop in our tracks. The coven leader is an earth witch, and she’s pulled power from the dirt. The heavy soil roots us in place. “Just you and the other female, if she wishes. No men.”
“I don’t like—”
I turn to Keller, cutting him off with a look. “We have to respect their wishes. You five are the only men here and they don’t like it. Stay here. Please.”
If Keller didn’t love me so much, he’d probably choke me right now. With this many witches in one spot, I could be walking across a field of landmines and taking his sister with me. “Seriously, it’ll be fine.” I turn to Sage. “Up to you, girl. It’s okay if you want to stay back.”
Sage chews on her bottom lip, pulling the circular ring into her mouth, obviously distraught. I’m about to tell her to stay put, when she stiffens her spine and nods her head. “I’m going. Let’s go.”