I had more chance of winning the lottery. Damn it all. I’d liked Eric, and we could have done with some of his crack shooting right now.
“I’m sorry, Kate,” said Luce. I could tell she truly meant it, but that didn’t help. She had my son. “I wouldn’t choose to do it this way, but Alicia needs you to suffer.”
“What the hell for? The crime of saving her sorry ass from Valeria?”
More likely for being a better dragon than her even though I was a half-human hybrid. Bitch. I’d never liked her.
Luce didn’t answer. My mind raced, even as my heart pounded in fear. Lachie. How to stop her? I couldn’t let her take him. But even if I could have compelled a shifter of her power, her binding to Alicia protected her. From the corner of my eye I could see Dave and Thommo looking to me for instruction. They both still held their guns. Could I trust them to shoot Luce and not Lachie? And do it before Luce shot my son?
Not bloody likely. It was too risky. Besides, I didn’t want Luce hurt either if I could help it.
But I had to do something fast. Flanked by her two companions, she backed away down the broken street while we stood helpless. Come on, Kate. Think of something.
But I couldn’t. Frozen in panic, I watched her retreat.
And then I watched the sky fall on her.
At least, that’s how it seemed, for one confused moment. Something hurtled from the rooftops, bowling Luce over and knocking her into the crossbow guy. Garth darted forward and snatched Lachie up from the pavement, his big arms cradling my son protectively.
The whirlwind that had dropped from above knocked down the last guy standing with a quick tap to the head, then turned to face Luce and Crossbow Guy, who’d scrambled up. I stared for a moment, amazed at her skill as she disarmed them both with a rapid succession of kicks, always keeping herself between them and us.
Luce shook her head to clear it and squared up to face her new opponent. The woman stood a little taller than Luce herself—most people did; Luce was no giant. Like Luce, she was Asian, but Luce was Chinese and this woman was Japanese, with red streaks through her dark hair. She wore black leathers, as if she’d been riding a motorbike before she decided to jump off a rooftop into the middle of our disagreement.
Luce was a mean martial artist herself, but I soon saw that this woman’s skill far exceeded hers. Even the addition of Crossbow Guy to the fight hardly seemed to stretch her.
I suddenly realised I was still standing there gawking.
“Let’s go!” I waved everyone toward the cars. Just as well they were four-wheel drives. The new road surface offered a better challenge than any off-road track.
Dave hesitated. “What about them? We just going to leave? I could shoot her.”
“Who, Luce? Don’t you dare.” One day I hoped to free Luce from her bondage to Alicia and welcome her back into the fold. Maybe that was sentimental of me. At the moment she was an enemy, and a dangerous one. But I couldn’t bring myself to order her death. “It looks like our new friend has everything under control. Let’s get out while we can.” Without killing anyone. God, what a mess.
I slid into the back seat of the nearest car and accepted Lachie from Garth. He was crying, little hiccupping sobs that he tried to hold in.
“Shh. It’s all right,” I soothed, brushing his hair back from his face. Thank God he’d survived. When I’d seen him stretched out on the pavement, so still, it had sent a wave of dread and remembered agony through me. I felt his head for lumps. “Where does it hurt?”
He whimpered and pointed above his right ear. I couldn’t find any swelling, though he flinched when I touched the area.
Ben darted across the street and came back with something clutched tight in his good hand. Then he got in the front seat, and Dave slid behind the wheel.
“Wait! Where’s Mac?” Lachie cried.
“She’s in the other car, mate,” said Ben. “With Garth and Thommo. Don’t worry.”
Fortunately he didn’t ask about Rob or Eric. I guess they hadn’t played Lego games with him. I swallowed a lump in my throat, dreading the moment when I had to explain what had happened to them. This was no life for a child.
Dave pulled out and we were thrown from side to side as the car bumped over the boulders and rubble that used to be a city street. I glanced back to where our mystery saviour still battled Luce. Crossbow Guy was down and out for the count, like his mate. Only the two women were still on their feet, though Luce was staggering.
The stranger caught my eye and gave me a curious nod, almost like a small bow. She seemed as fresh as when the fight had begun. I hoped she wouldn’t kill Luce. Who was she, and why had she come to our aid?
I settled back in the seat as we turned the corner and picked up speed. Thank God she had. I couldn’t bear to lose Lachie again. This fighting had to end—but now my situation was even worse than before, with the loss of two good men. I couldn’t keep playing by other people’s rules.
I had to shake up the game. But how?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Was that her?” Ben asked. “The mystery woman from the ambush?”
“Yep.” Who the hell was this woman, and why was she following me around like my own personal white knight? None of our street patrols had seen any sign of her, so either she was very good at concealing herself, or she was psychic.
“Looks pretty fishy that she turns up in the nick of time again.” He swivelled in his seat to face me. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to find some clothes, what do you think?” I hung over the back seat, scrabbling through the nearest suitcase in the dark. It turned out to be Mac’s, and I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. “Stop looking at my butt.”
“You shouldn’t have taken trueshape.” His voice was unexpectedly sharp, and he didn’t smile at my attempted humour. “Then you’d still have your own clothes.”
“What else was I supposed to do?” I wriggled into the clothes with relief, then clipped my seatbelt on. Lachie snuggled against me gratefully. “Those leshies were crucifying us.”
“Are you trying to get caught? New Year’s Eve was one thing, but this!” He threw up his hands. “Nine o’clock at night in the middle of a city street, where anyone can see you. You’ve got people out there just itching to start a witch hunt, you’ve got Elizabeth riding you—plus you’ve got the police all over you already for Valeria’s death—and you think changing into a dragon again is the answer? If anyone got that on film, you are screwed. Detective Hartley can close the case. You might as well have signed a confession.”
Heat flushed my cheeks, and I had to bite back an angry retort. Lachie had stiffened against me as Ben’s voice rose. He was old enough to remember the arguments before Jason left us. No way were we going there again.
“Let’s discuss this later. This isn’t the time or the place.” I looked meaningfully at Lachie and Ben took the hint. He turned back to face front, his shoulders taut with repressed anger.
Well, I had some anger of my own to repress. I’d done the best I could to protect us all. Now I felt like he’d slapped me in the face, hurt and caught by surprise. And underneath that, a purely dragon rage simmered. How dare he speak to me like that? I could practically hear Leandra’s outraged tone. But I couldn’t give in to that feeling. My dragon side had driven a big enough wedge between us already.
And even further down, so deep I had a hard time admitting it even to myself, lurked a tiny worry: was he right? Could I have found a better way? Maybe the wolves had it under control already. Maybe I could have relied on them and Thommo’s sharp shooting.
Every time, it got easier, and the dragon called to me more strongly. Did I change because I needed to? Or because I wanted to?
Silence fell as we followed the tail lights of Garth’s car down roads that grew more rural the further we went. Handmade signs offering eggs or tomatoes for sale popped up in the headlights as we zoomed past long dusty driveways. Horses and even the occasional cow drea
med in the dark fields, heads nodding sleepily as the cars’ lights found them.
Arcadia wasn’t a truly rural area. Chicken farms and horse studs lay scattered among rich mansions, churches and the occasional conference centre or restaurant. The only constant was that the size of the properties increased the further we got from the city. Some were rich and some were rundown, but all lay quiet in the light of the waxing moon. Physically it was only an hour from the heart of the city, but culturally it was another world. The only nightlife here was the foxes sniffing around the chicken coops.
We turned down a narrow road and followed Garth around a series of tight bends that switchbacked down a steep hill. Trees hung over the road, and there were no streetlights. It was very dark. When the road straightened out again Garth slowed. In the valley at the bottom, cradled by the surrounding hills, the road ended at a pair of heavy iron gates.
“Are we here?” Lachie sat up straighter and peered at the darkness outside the window. I’d told him we were moving to a bigger house, with a pool for him to swim in, which had met with approval, but there was little for him to see. High brick walls surrounded the property, and the sturdy gates were shut.
Garth pulled into the drive and stopped before the gates. He wound down his window and spoke into the intercom under the watchful eye of the camera mounted in the wall above. In a moment the gates swung open without a sound, and the two cars headed up the drive. Lachie swivelled round in his seat to watch the gates close behind us, but I braced myself for the first view of the house.
It was just as I remembered—a large symmetrical structure, with a two-storeyed central section flanked by single storey wings, now lit up like a Christmas tree with floodlights. The wings were originally guest quarters, but these days they were used as staff quarters for the men. More of it sprawled behind; the bulk of the house couldn’t even be seen from here. At the back, also out of sight, was a garage and two separate cottages, a pool house as big as our old home in the suburbs, and an enormous stables complex. Originally the property had been a horse stud, but since Leandra bought it the stables had lain empty. Fields and dressage and training rings stretched out behind that, almost to the base of the hills, invisible in the dark. The whole valley belonged to me.
The house looked as it always had, with no sign of the damage that had ripped through it last year. In spite of myself my gaze was drawn to the window of my old bedroom, where I’d come so close to death, and I looked away with a shudder. One day Jason would pay for that betrayal.
But first I had to find the bastard. None of Garth’s contacts, or Trevor’s, had heard as much as a whisper of his whereabouts. The last I’d seen of him was when he’d come so close again to damn near killing me on New Year’s Eve in the battle at Valeria’s house. And then I’d turned dragon and had to forgo the pleasure of stomping his miserable human form into jelly to go save Lachie. Shame I hadn’t had the time. A bit of jelly-stomping would have eased the sting I still felt at his numerous betrayals. Being back here made me conscious of them all over again.
Steve came out to meet us, a worried look on his tanned face. I’d rung him on the ride out to give him a brief rundown of events and make sure he was prepared with first aid. He helped Mac from the other car. She hunched over in pain, looking like a child wearing her father’s clothes. Wonder whose suitcase she’d raided. Garth got out and came around to take her from Steve. The big werewolf’s face was grim but his hands were gentle. She leaned heavily on him as he guided her up the front steps, taking them one at a time.
Ben watched her go. “Bet she’ll be bouncing off the walls by tomorrow.”
His bitter tone caught my attention. For someone who’d been around shifters his whole life, his resentment seemed a bit over the top. I took a deep breath. “It still hurts, you know. It’s not like shifters get off scot-free.”
As he well knew. He shrugged and followed them inside without comment. His arm must be on fire after getting thrown around like that, which clearly wasn’t improving his mood any. Lachie got out of the car, yawning. I could understand Ben’s feelings of impotence. I hated the feeling of helplessness tonight’s attack had brought on, and I at least had my dragon powers to fall back on. But even they’d been no use as I stood there, useless as tits on a bull, while Luce threatened my son. Ben had always been such a capable guy too, used to taking the lead. Being forced to rely on others must be doing his head in.
Steve walked beside me, laden with suitcases. “I’ve got a room set up for Mac in the east wing. Garth says he doesn’t think she’ll need stitches, just rest. Great to be a werewolf, huh?”
God, not him too. I shot an exasperated look at the big half-Maori. Was everybody jealous of the shifters all of a sudden? “See if you still think so come full moon. Did you pick up anything on police radio?”
“Several units despatched to the house, including ambulance and fire. Someone called in a shooting, and there was a bit of chatter about a dragon. They’ve got the street blocked off at the moment while they wait for the bomb squad.”
“They think it was a bomb?” Better than blaming leshies for the destruction, I guess.
“Just looking for evidence, I think, given the type of damage. How bad was it?”
“Pretty localised. Messy, though. I can see why they might think it was a bomb. Any word on survivors?”
It was a long shot, but even so my heart sank when he shook his head.
“Three charred bodies in the street, one dead in the house and one out back.” His tone was unemotional, but his dark eyes reflected my own pain back at me. He and Eric had been friends for a long time.
I sighed. What a night. He left the bags in the grand foyer and went back for more, leaving Lachie and me alone under the glittering chandelier. A wide staircase carpeted in a rich red swept up to the next level. The foyer alone was nearly the size of our old house in the suburbs, and the white-tiled hallway it opened into seemed to stretch off into infinity. Such a big house, with so few of us left. Losing both Eric and Rob in one night was a heavy blow.
I looked down into my son’s exhausted face. Life had to go on. “Bed.”
“Can’t I look at the pool?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Can I have a hot chocolate then? It might help me sleep.” He put on his best pleading face. Dark circles ringed his eyes, though he’d napped in the car.
“You don’t need hot chocolate. You look like you’re about to fall asleep on your feet.”
His bottom lip quivered ever so slightly. “But my head hurts.”
Poor kid. It had been a rough night for him too.
“Okay. But no taking all night to drink it. Ten minutes, and then you’re going to bed.”
I led him through the foyer, past the majestic staircase and down the hall towards the gleaming steel kitchen at the back of the house. On the way we passed the security room, its door standing open. Alex sat at the desk, surrounded by monitors, his face screwed up in concentration. His blond hair was shaved as short as Garth’s, and the long scab on the back of his head was clearly visible.
“Wow.” Lachie’s eyes grew huge. “What are all those screens for?”
“Camera feeds,” said Alex. “To make sure no one sneaks up on us. How’s your head, champ? I heard you took a hit. Just like me, eh?” He rubbed ruefully at the healing scar, where he’d been knocked out at the disastrous “meeting” with Carl Davison—was that only two days ago? It felt like forever.
Lachie grinned. “We’re twins! Can you show me the cameras?”
“Tomorrow,” I said firmly. “Or don’t you want that hot chocolate any more?”
The kitchen was big enough to cater a function for a hundred and boasted a bank of commercial-sized ovens, plus enough refrigerators to chill down a dozen bodies. Not that we used them for that, of course. In the daytime the long windows looked out across green fields to the distant tree-covered hills, but now their black rectangles made me feel exposed.
I found hot cho
colate and some children’s Panadol in the huge walk-in pantry, which the guys had stocked with all the essentials, plus every kind of junk food known to man. Maybe they thought those were essentials too, although Dave might have something to say about that. I shut the door before Lachie could see it and get any ideas. I soon had him sitting at the long kitchen table sipping from a steaming mug.
A couple of minutes later Steve and Dave came in from putting the cars away. Soon Ben joined us, everyone gravitating to the big kitchen, searching for companionship. Though we were all tired, no one was ready to sleep yet.
It seemed as if there should be some kind of rite for our fallen friends, something we could say that would help. Their empty seats left a big gap in our little company.
“Where’s Garth?” I asked in an effort to break the gloomy silence.
“With Mac. Still getting her settled,” said Ben. “What’ve you got there, mate? Smells good.”
“Hot chocolate,” Lachie said. “Want some?”
“Think I might have some coffee.” Then he saw the coffee machine, all tubes and dials in gleaming steel. “Or not. Bloody hell. Do you need a licence to drive that thing?”
“Here, get out of the way,” said Dave, pushing him aside. “Let the professional handle this.”
When the coffee was ready Dave took a cup down the hall for Alex. When he returned he was carrying a laptop, Garth hot on his heels.
“Check this out. It just came up on YouTube.”
“How’s Mac?” I asked Garth as we shifted so we could all see the screen.
“Sleeping. She’ll be fine in a couple of days.”
At least that was good news. I sighed and focused on the laptop screen. Dark and blurry footage of the scene outside the house in The Rocks began. Great. Of course someone had filmed it. It was Murphy’s bloody law.
“Guess the leshies did us a favour knocking out the power,” Garth said.
Unusual for him to find a bright side to anything, but it was true. It was hard to tell what was happening in the dark. I saw myself change and leap across the street, but if I hadn’t known what I was looking at it could have been anything. It was nothing but blurred shapes in the gloom. Then flame burst from my mouth, lighting up the scene. The person holding the camera had obviously jumped violently at that point, as the footage wavered and briefly showed the top of a window and part of a ceiling—but there’d been a glimpse of my dragon head first.
The Twiceborn Queen (The Proving Book 2) Page 14
