Deadlock: Southern Arcana, Book 3

by Moira Rogers

  Dread fisted in Alec’s gut as he pulled away from the curb. “Did she say why she was worried?”

  “She didn’t get to that part.” A car door slammed. “Look, if you’re asking about my dad and uncle, then you’re not a cop. I know that much. But who are you?”

  It was oddly refreshing to talk to someone who didn’t have a clue who he was. “I’m the unofficial alpha of New Orleans.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Julio seemed to be talking to himself. “I have to connect in Charlotte, but I should be down there by five. If you don’t find her before then, I can take over.”

  Alec cut a glance at Jackson, who was still concentrating on the glowing map in his lap. “We’ll have her back safe by five, kid. You need to be here for whatever comes next, since I’d wager you’re the only one your uncle gives two shits about pissing off.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” He swallowed. “If anything happens…”

  The steering wheel creaked under Alec’s hand. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

  Julio didn’t argue. “I’ll call when I land. If you find Carmen, tell her I’m on my way.”

  “Got it.” Alec ended the call and pressed his foot a little more firmly against the accelerator. “Her brother’s already on his way to the airport. She got snatched leaving him a message. I just need to figure out how to make this phone pull up the incoming calls…”

  No more than a few city blocks now glowed on the map, and Jackson blinked and shook his head. “Give it to me.” He thumbed the buttons quickly, scanning the phone’s small screen. “Lily, Lily, Miguel, Julio… The last one’s just after noon. Diego Mendoza.”

  Alec thought his blood couldn’t chill any further. “Her father. Fuck.”

  “It could be unrelated,” Jackson reminded him. “Plenty of reasons her father would call while he was in town.”

  “Can you find out how long she waited between that call and calling her brother?”

  He skipped to another screen. “She called Kat, received the call from her father and then called her brother, all in the span of a few minutes.”

  “Mendoza said she called him because she was worried. Either her father said something that reminded her, or he said something that scared her. Otherwise why would she have wasted time calling Kat first?”

  “She also could have noticed something fishy on the street during the call.” Jackson laid the cell phone on the console. “I know you’re predisposed to suspect her family of being involved, Alec, but don’t let it blind you. Remember there are other possibilities.”

  Jackson was right, and Alec hated it. Cool detachment wasn’t usually a problem, but they didn’t usually work cases with guilt riding him, either. Not since their first, when Jackson had used magic and logic to help him track down the men responsible for Heidi’s death.

  Christ, the comparison scared him.

  At the speed he was driving, he couldn’t chance a look at the map. “You pinpointed a location yet?”

  “Within a few blocks. Can you handle the rest?”

  Unless they’d let Carmen out long enough for her scent to linger, it would mean searching block by block. “We could call Andrew. He wants blood today, and this could give him a fight, at least. Is it secluded enough for me to shift without attracting notice?”

  Jackson made a skeptical noise. “Better if you didn’t, on both counts. This is a residential area.”

  Which was going to make possible witnesses a real danger. “So if this turns violent, we could have witnesses calling the cops down on us?”

  “Better give McNeely the heads-up, just in case. He’d want to know anyway.”

  Alec’s own phone was still clipped to his belt, and McNeely’s number was—through sad necessity—on speed dial. The wolf answered on the second ring, and Alec didn’t waste words. “Me’n Jackson might be about to cause a stink over in Algiers.”

  “Shit, Jacobson.” He slurred the words, and Alec could picture the burly man chewing on a toothpick or a pen, anything to distract himself from his nicotine addiction. “It’s been so damn quiet lately. What you stirring up?”

  “Not me, McNeely. Southeast council’s come to town and one of Sinclaire’s doctors has gone missing. We’re tracking her now.”

  “Yeah, I got a guy over in the Fourth. You want some backup, or some room to breathe?”

  “Room to breathe. No clue what we’re walking into, but it’s safe to assume a whole mess of pissed-off shapeshifters.”

  “I’ll send word, but he won’t be able to hold them off if all hell breaks loose. Keep it quiet and, for Christ’s sake, keep it contained.”

  “Got it. If it gets bad, I’ll try to warn you.”

  Jackson grabbed the phone. “McNeely, tell your contact we’ll be starting our search on Lavergne, near the river.” He flipped the phone closed and folded the map, careful not to disturb the swirl of magic that dotted it. “If you were going to snatch someone, what? Large car, SUV? Van? Should narrow it down.”

  Deadpan sarcasm was the only thing holding panic at bay. “Derek’s truck worked surprisingly well last time I kidnapped somebody.”

  “Hey.” Jackson waited until he glanced over. “We’re going to find this lady, okay? No sweat. It’s what we do.”

  Because it was Jackson, and Alec trusted him, he gave voice to the nagging fear inside him. “I shouldn’t have poked at Cesar. I knew better.”

  His partner snorted. “You didn’t do anything, Alec. Unless you think you should have agreed to marry her to keep her family from forcing the issue with someone else, I don’t get how you could possibly blame this on yourself.”

  “This is my town.”

  “And you’re taking care of it.”

  “Things are gonna get worse, Holt. The Southeast council can only stay deadlocked for so long. Eventually one of them’ll get an advantage, and who knows if they’ll be as willing to leave us in peace as Coleman was.”

  “Why haven’t they gotten off their asses and picked someone already?”

  “What Derek did when he beat Coleman was unheard of. By our law, Derek could have taken possession of everything Coleman owned. Accounts, investments, property. That’s what happens when you lose a challenge. The Southeast council is too evenly matched. No one wants to be the first one to move and risk losing a battle—or being weakened enough that someone else can challenge them right after they win.”

  Jackson studied the road ahead of them with a grimace. “What are you going to do if this eventual council leader causes problems for New Orleans?”

  Same thing he always did. “Figure out what his weaknesses are and find a way to use them.”

  “A solid plan.” Jackson glanced at the clock in the dash as Alec turned toward the expressway. “We’ve got a jump on this one. Fast response, that’s a good thing.”

  It would have been more comforting if Alec hadn’t been aware of just how many things could have gone wrong in the time it had taken Kat to realize Carmen was missing.

  On the second street they checked, Jackson spotted a windowless white van parked in front of a house that still had a For Rent sign tilted precariously in front of it. None of the houses on the block had driveways, so Alec rolled down his window and inched past the vehicle, all of his concentration on trying to pick up any lingering scents.

  If Carmen had been in the van he couldn’t tell, not without getting inside the damn thing, but the exterior carried the scent of unfamiliar wolves too strongly to be coincidence. “This is it.”

  “Yeah, it is.” There was a tangible heat wafting off the map now, and Jackson whispered a few words that dissolved the magic entirely. “Want me to create a distraction?”

  “Can you feel anything off about the house? Magically speaking?”

  “No, nothing. I—” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “Shit, it’s shielded. There’s a barrier, something meant to block magic.”

  Alec pulled the truck up to the curb and threw it into park. “How strong?”

  “Big tim
e. Serious magic.”

  “Fuck. Chances of sneaking in?”

  “Slim to nonexistent. It’s bizarre, though.”

  Alec paused with his hand curled around the door handle. “Bizarre how?”

  Jackson hesitated. “The shield didn’t stop us from finding her, so it’s—it’s almost as if it’s not meant to keep magic out. More like…it’s meant to keep it in. Like they’re doing something in there they need to hide.”

  The handle of his door, which had withstood years of abuse, bent under his fingers. “I need to get in there. Now. What sort of magical protection can you give me?”

  “Make you quicker, harder to hit. The usual.” Jackson opened his door as well. “Let’s go, and any casters in there, you leave to me.”

  The house was situated in a quiet neighborhood, one where any sort of loud, protracted fight would be sure to garner police response. They’d have to hit fast and hard, and keep the carnage to a minimum. If things escalated beyond that, it would be ugly—or one more favor Alec owed McNeely.

  His partner slowed as he approached the side of the house and held out one hand, as if testing the air. “Here. Past this point, there’s no hiding us.” He closed his eyes and whispered. Alec couldn’t understand the words, but he recognized them.

  With the last syllable, power coursed through him, smashing into the magic that made him a shapeshifter. For one tense moment energy buzzed through him, raising the hair on the back of his neck. It settled with a snap, flooding his limbs with lazy strength. The duration of the spell always varied, but the results were the same. As a shapeshifter, he was fast. Enhanced by magic, he was untouchable.

  Now all they had to do was get in. “Around back?”

  Jackson nodded and hurried through the invisible barrier toward the back door.

  It slammed open to reveal two large men in quiet discussion. One shouted a warning and swung at Jackson, while the other lunged for Alec.

  With magic curled around him, the rest of the world moved in slow motion. He pivoted before the meaty fist could connect with his jaw and used the shifter’s own momentum to help him through the still-open door.

  Jackson landed two good punches on the other, then shoved him at Alec. “Don’t dawdle,” he called back as he ran through the open doorway and down the long hallway.

  A hard slug across the jaw dropped the second man, but by the time he hit the floor the first was back, pissier than before. Alec dispatched him in the same manner, wincing slightly when his knuckles split against a jawbone harder than a slab of marble.

  Crashing sounds from deeper within the house led him to a narrow hallway where Jackson was bent over a man on the floor, punching him between terse words. “Don’t—get—back—up.”

  The man had been guarding a door, so Alec kicked it in. The shattered wood rebounded against the unfinished wall and smashed into his shoulder as he shoved into the room.

  He caught a glimpse of a startled woman with gray hair woven into beaded braids, and then she literally vanished in a pulse of magic that shook the room.

  Someone whimpered, and he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

  Carmen. She was huddled in on herself, shaking with terror…and something else. Power.

  To his heightened senses, Carmen felt like a wolf. Weak, traumatized, but a shapeshifter, not a human.

  She sensed him or smelled him or something. Her body went stiff for a moment, and she scrambled to hide behind a freestanding shelving unit loaded with paint cans.

  Jackson stomped in. “The magic’s dissipated, but there’s a hell of an echo in—” He stopped and stared at Carmen’s balled-up form. “Shit, is that her?”

  “Yes.” Her fear scraped Alec’s nerves as he concentrated on pushing out a wave of comforting energy. “What the fuck was going on here, Holt?”

  “I don’t know. Until a minute ago, this room was shielded more than the whole rest of the house.”

  She still hadn’t moved. Alec waved Jackson back and sank into a crouch. “Carmen, sweetheart. You’re all right.”

  She looked at him and away, a quick glance with no eye contact, making sure he kept his distance. The only visible effect his words had was a slight crinkling between her eyebrows, as if she was trying to discern his meaning.

  Jackson leaned down slowly, just enough to speak low words to Alec. “Unless you want to have to kill those guys out there, we’ve got to book. Grab her and let’s go.”

  If he did, she was likely to fight him the whole way and hurt herself. “Can you put her to sleep? Like you did for Mac when her instincts went crazy?”

  Jackson looked like he was fighting a battle within himself. “I don’t know what they did to her. More magic could hurt, and bad.”

  “Fuck.” With no other choice, Alec rose and closed the distance between them, concentrating on maintaining that steady, soothing aura of shapeshifter power. “I’m not going to hurt you, but I need to take you out of here.”

  She shifted her weight suddenly and fell over backwards, landing hard on the floor. She still didn’t speak, but she made a terrified noise and swung when he reached for her.

  Alec had seen newly changed wolves react the same way. Steeling his heart, he knocked her flailing limbs aside and curled his hand around the back of her neck with just enough pressure to be a warning. “Stop.”

  She struck him on the shoulder and shoved at his chest. When he didn’t yield, she wound her hands in his shirt and met his eyes. After a few hitching breaths that finally caught on a sob, she whispered, “Please. Help me.”

  Terror could break her mind. It happened in more infected wolves than not, driving them so mad they had to be put down. His instincts rebelled, and he’d swung Carmen up into his arms before he realized it, cradling her feverish body against his chest. “Now, Jackson, or there won’t be enough of her left to save.”

  Judging from the hard set of the man’s jaw, Jackson recognized the truth of his words. But when he reached for Carmen, she snapped at him, her teeth closing viciously only inches from his fingers. “Jesus Christ.” He tried again, and this time he managed to press his hand to her cheek.

  One low word, and she sagged in Alec’s arms, still whimpering and fitful. “The rest can’t be helped,” Jackson said. “We need time to figure out what happened.”

  Alec could only hope it was time she had.

  Chapter Five

  They were talking about her. Arguing, judging by their harsh tones, even if they fought to keep their voices lowered.

  She curled tighter on the narrow backseat and pressed her hands over her ears. Everything was loud, too loud, and she couldn’t stand it.

  Fight. She wanted to, except that she didn’t know where the hell to start. The sandy-haired man in the front seat, the one who seethed with the same sort of magic the witch had carried inside her? She couldn’t very well battle the glare of the sun or the ear-splitting rumble of the engine.

  Or the chaos inside her. Half of her wanted to fight, but the other half wanted to run, to kick through the back window if she had to. Fight or flight. Instinctive reactions, and they left little space for anything else. Still, some tiny part of her…

  It remembered the dark, scared man behind the wheel.

  He’d glowered at her before, though Carmen couldn’t quite place where it might have been. She vaguely recalled heat, as well, the sort that warmed her blood and made her shake with longing.

  She could test him, stand still and see if he approached, if he liked her scent. She liked his. It clung to her clothes, her skin. Leather and sweat, strong and earthy.

  Strong. She closed her eyes and reached inside for some semblance of lucidity. It made no sense that she could feel that, the magic that dwelled in him and matched her own.

  “—heard rumors, but they’re just that. They’re rumors. You can’t make a wolf, not like this.”

  “But she’s not human. Hell, she’s not even your usual brand of halfbreed. Remember, one of the brothers turn
ed up shifter.”

  “I don’t care if one of her brothers is a little gray man from outer space, Jacobson, you can’t do it. It’s exactly because she’s not your average human that you’d have to be insane to try.” He sounded upset, almost sick. “The usual way will turn a halfbreed plumb crazy in about two minutes. Too much wolf.”

  Wolf. Yes, that felt right. Carmen moved her hands, just a little, and tried to concentrate on the conversation.

  “A council member would never use the regular way anyway. They can’t have dirty infected wolves in their family. Being a halfbreed may not be much, but it’s still better than that.”

  “Like I said, there are rumors of old ways, but it’s beyond me. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

  The witch. Carmen struggled to remember, but a terrifying blankness formed where her memories should have been.

  She snarled.

  Warmth surrounded her at once, a comforting pressure born of magic, almost tangible. “You’re okay, Carmen,” the darker man murmured, his voice a soft rumble. “We’re taking you somewhere safe.”

  She opened her mouth to tell him she wasn’t okay, but all that came was a low moan. If she could order her thoughts, she could talk to them, ask what the hell was going on.

  The other man cursed. “I can’t repeat the spell, Alec.”

  “Doesn’t matter. When we get to my place, I’ll let her run a bit. Burn off some energy.”

  “Will that work?”

  “Probably won’t hurt.”

  The dark man was driving, and the other turned to peer over the seat at her. He had kind blue eyes, filled with a calm, soft sympathy that scared the hell out of her. How many times had she looked at someone like that, someone with injuries or illnesses so severe they wouldn’t live to see another sunrise?

  He spoke. “Hey, don’t freak out. You’re all right. You’re going to be all right.”

  Carmen laughed. She couldn’t help it.

  A soft curse from the front, and the engine roared under them. “Leave her be, Jackson. We don’t need her coming over the seat at you if she gets spooked.”