“I will, thank you again.”
It took me two steps to realize I was alone. And I shouldn’t be.
“Peasblossom?”
A muffled squeak came from somewhere near my arm. Gunderson and I both looked at the package.
“Oh, my, have I…?” he asked, grey eyebrows rising to his hairline.
I sighed and unwrapped the brown paper. Peasblossom glared at me from her hiding spot inside the bracer.
“Well, if this is what I get for helping you find a critical piece of evidence, then you can find your own way back!” she snapped.
Arguing that it was her own fault she’d been trapped wouldn’t do me any good, so I didn’t waste my breath. Instead, I redid the paper and string and stood there while the pixie stomped up my arm and sat down on my shoulder, hard enough I’d bet it hurt her more than it hurt me. I rolled my eyes and slid the package into the pouch at my waist, easing the gift into the bottomless confines of the enchanted bag. Gunderson wisely kept silent about the pixie’s predicament and waved goodbye.
The sun was kissing the horizon as I left the shop. Liam’s desire to be rid of me irritated me even more as I noticed how little daylight I had left. Even with the bracer, assuming it worked, it would be more effective to scout the scene tomorrow. I looked off in the direction he’d gone. What drove him out in such a hurry? And so determined to leave me behind?
“Lost, aren’t you?” Peasblossom sneered. “Well, I’m not helping.”
The zipper of my pouch sounded loud in the serene shadows of early evening. The bracer had already sunk into the depths of the bag, and I didn’t even touch it when I groped inside for the potion I needed. I pushed a travel coffee mug, an extension cord, and a dozen napkins out of the way before I found the vial I wanted.
The last of the sun’s rays turned the bottle bright red as I upended it, drinking down the moss-flavored brew. I coughed, the rock dust in the potion clinging to my throat. I fumbled for the travel mug, hoping there was still some tea left inside. Fortune was with me, and a swallow of lukewarm tea pushed the rest of the potions bits down.
Magic sprayed over my vision, a map hovering before me as if someone had traced out the forest paths with a child’s silver crayon. One by one the paths vanished, leaving only the quickest way through the woods.
“That’s cheating,” Peasblossom grumbled.
“No one told you to climb inside the bracer,” I said, returning the empty bottle and the travel mug to the pouch. “Why didn’t you say something when he started wrapping it up?”
“What was I going to say? Hey, I’m snooping here?”
“I think you were being considerate,” I said. “I think poor Mr. Gunderson didn’t see you, and rather than embarrassing him, you let yourself be trapped.”
Peasblossom was silent for a moment. “It was considerate of me, wasn’t it? Not to embarrass the old fool?”
“You’re one of a kind.”
The pixie shifted around to lie on her stomach across my shoulder, kicking her feet in the air. “I really am.”
The darkness thickened as I pressed deeper into the woods, the shining line of the spell still racing forward, a beacon leading me on. I passed beneath a tree heavy with a murder of crows, their beady black eyes watching me as I wandered too close. I ignored the avian disapproval. If I kept a good pace, I could make it to my car and be home in time to put in a few hours researching Majesty’s condition. There had to be a way to find out who did that to the kitten and—
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. A sensation like cold winter slush poured down my spine, and the long black shadows formed by overarching tree branches slithered like tendrils, reaching for me with grasping fingers. A scream bubbled in my throat, and for one horrible moment, I couldn’t breathe.
A deep, rasping sound came from behind me. Not human. Bigger. Sound swelled in my throat, threatening to pass my lips in a scream that promised more to come. Tears flowed like liquid panic. Whatever it was had affected my mind, pushed me from confusion to terror in the span of a breath. I hovered on a mental precipice, and I did not want to know what would happen if I fell.
I willed myself to stay calm, to hold on just for a second. Very, very slowly, I drew out a spell, moving my fingers as little as possible. Peasblossom was still on my shoulder, but as soon as I’d gone still, she’d sensed the danger. Her tiny body trembled as she scuttled down my arm and hid beneath my sleeve, clinging to my wrist, her rapid heartbeat pressed against my erratic pulse.
Green energy rose at my command, surging forward in the shape of a sleek, lean-limbed cat. It raced over the muscles in my legs, filling each strand with strength and power. I held the image in my mind as I said the incantation under my breath. The creature inhaled sharply, as if it sensed what I was about to do.
I ran.
The magic invigorated me, giving me the endurance I needed to escape. I had the gift of the cheetah, a cat whose talent was speed, and only speed. I bolted through the forest, and the humming silver thread of my earlier spell kept me on track, preventing me from crashing face first into the trunk of a tree, or tumbling bum over teakettle into a ravine. The spell saved my life, because I certainly didn’t have the presence of mind to watch where I was going. Not with that thing pursuing me.
It was following me. I could feel it, could feel that skin-searing cold. But I couldn’t hear it. There was no crashing through underbrush, no snapping branches or disturbed leaves. Not even the beating of wings. There was only silence behind me. And if it wasn’t running, and it wasn’t flying, it was…incorporeal.
“Peasblossom,” I wheezed, taking a risk and trying to speak despite the current physical demands on my lungs. “Can you see what it is?”
“I don’t want to.” Her voice was thin, panicked and barely discernible over the rush of blood in my ears.
“Please,” I gasped.
There was a muffled cry from beneath my sleeve, and then Peasblossom stuck her head out and pried open her eyes to look behind us. A wail poured from her throat, and she dove back underneath my shirt, her trembling ten times worse.
“What is it?” I hurtled over a fallen tree.
“I don’t know!” she shrieked. “A monster! Black, shadowy, pointed ears, long tail, four legs. It’s running on the air!”
My heart leapt into my throat and I choked. That description. It sounded… It sounded like the creature I’d seen in my dream last night. Exactly like it.
I knew what it was.
Cursing with every fiber of my being, I pulled on my magic. I didn’t bother to be quiet or subtle this time, but screamed the incantation, throwing my hands through the gestures like a madwoman who’d run through a spider web. Violet strands of energy whipped the air, then spun as if caught up in a whirlwind. They wrapped about me in a cocoon of purple light, sank past my skin to my heart, my soul. Heat pulsed out as the spell locked into place, chasing back the fear the creature had infused me with. My heart slowed, if only a little, and my next breath didn’t threaten to shatter my ribs. Magic-fueled determination seized my spirit, and I leaned forward into the spell. The monster would not catch me. Not tonight.
The silver path before me flickered.
“No,” I shouted.
The magic ignored me. Another flicker, and then the path vanished. I dismissed the second spell, biting back another cry as the emerald image of a cat fled my body to vanish into thin air. My legs trembled, and I stumbled a few steps before falling to my knees.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Run!”
Peasblossom’s cries forced me to my feet. I called my magic, but my limbs shook violently as I paid the price for forcing my body faster than nature intended it to go. I’d dismissed the cheetah spell too fast, cut it off when the direction spell died, because running full speed when you didn’t know which direction to run was a recipe for a concussion—or worse. Without the cooldown period for the spell, there was nothing to save me from the full brunt of the consequences.
/> “Peasblossom,” I rasped. “Fly. Get away.”
“I won’t leave you!”
My throat constricted so I had to fight to speak. “You’ll die if you stay—now fly!”
“No!”
A car horn cut off whatever I might have said. I raised my face and sobbed with relief. A car slowed, its headlights revealing how close I was to the road. Emma peered at me from her window, her eyes wide. With the last of my strength, I forced myself to my feet and gave a final burst of speed to push me to the car.
“Ms. Renard, are you all right?” Emma caught my hand as I fell into the passenger seat. My entire body shook, and it took three tries to close the door. I stared out her window into the darkness of the trees.
Teeth glinted in the moonlight.
“Drive!” I yelled.
Chapter 10
“What was that?”
Emma’s calm voice contrasted sharply with the wide-eyed stare I’d glimpsed through her window. I didn’t answer right away. I couldn’t have if I’d wanted to, if I’d known what to say. I was too busy gulping in lungfuls of air, breathing through the pain as my body fought through the aftereffects of shrugging off a spell too fast. Every muscle in my legs felt brittle, as if each strand were a frayed piece of wicker being wrenched into the shape of a basket. Each breath brought a fresh round of stabbing against my lungs, and sweat poured down my temples.
“I’m not sure.” My stomach twisted at the lie, but my expression was already a mask of misery, so I hoped she wouldn’t notice.
Silence filled the air.
“Was it a demon?”
I sat up so fast that I slammed my elbow into the door. “Ouch!” My legs spasmed, screaming protest at being used to push myself up in the seat. I grabbed my calves, trying to keep them from exploding as pain shot down every nerve ending at once. “Argh!”
“Are you all right?” Emma’s voice held a touch of amusement, but her face remained serious.
Pressing my palms flat against my thighs, I eased back in my seat, willing myself not to scream. A voice in my head echoed her question, and I latched on to it, grateful to have something to think about beside the agony crushing my body into one tight ball of misery. “You believe in demons?”
Another silence followed my question, this one thicker than the last. I’d all but convinced myself I’d imagined the whole interaction when Emma sighed.
“Is that thing still chasing us?”
I forced my eyes open long enough to look out the rear window to be sure, but I doubted I’d see anything. Arianne wouldn’t have turned a dream shard loose without restrictions; she was too careful for that. I guessed it would flee at the first sight of a human.
“We’re fine now. It’s gone.” I slumped back in my seat and closed my eyes.
“Good. This conversation will go a lot faster if we put our cards on the table.”
She pulled over to the side of the road and put her hazard lights on before turning to me. The ticking of the hazard lights made me open my eyes, but before I could ask what she was doing, Emma spoke again.
“I know they’re werewolves.”
My jaw dropped before I could stop it, and I closed my mouth with an audible click of teeth. “You… Who?”
She pursed her lips, her smooth brown skin wrinkling around the corners of her mouth. “Liam, Stephen, and Blake. And don’t pretend you don’t know; you’ll insult both our intelligences.”
She’d left out Sonar. I groped for the door handle, not with the intention of making a break for it, but to give myself an anchor to reality. To suspect Emma knew about werewolves was one thing, but to have it confirmed in such a…blatant way was unexpected. “How?”
Emma settled in her seat, pulling a leg up as though we were old friends having a long-overdue chat. “My grandmother. Our ancestors come from Haiti, and it was important to her I learned where I came from. She had lots of stories to tell me, and the way she talked about the Never Never…” She shrugged. “I knew it was real.”
“The Never Never,” I repeated. “It’s been a while since I heard it called that. Most of the people and creatures I interact with around here call it the Otherworld.” I settled in my seat, acclimating to the conversation and the fact that Emma knew about her coworkers. A small, petty part of me wanted to call Liam and tell him I’d been right. I resisted. “How long have you known?”
“From the moment I met Liam.” Emma chuckled. “My grandma had a routine for me to go through before I went on a date with anyone new. Always eat Italian, wear real silver, and put your underclothes on backward.”
“Italian for the garlic in case your date is a vampire, real silver to discover a werewolf, and reverse your clothes against the glamour of a fey.” I grinned, looking at Emma in a whole new light. “Your grandma is a smart woman.”
“She was.” Emma arched an eyebrow. “Between you and me, there was a time I was convinced the underclothes-on-backward thing was her way of discouraging sex too early in a relationship. Nothing ruins the mood like giving your date the impression you can’t dress yourself properly.”
Despite her joking demeanor, there was a heaviness in Emma’s voice, the tone of someone speaking of a loved one lost too soon. And when you lose a loved one, it’s always too soon.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
She nodded, fingers toying with the edge of her seatbelt. “It’s been a few years now. Still hurts, but I like to talk about her. It’s good to remember.”
“Is that how you discovered your coworkers are werewolves? You wore silver on your date with Liam?”
Emma’s eyebrows rose. “He told you about that? Our date?”
“Was he not supposed to?”
“Oh, I don’t mind.” She waved a hand. “I’m just surprised. It was one date a long time ago.”
“You stopped dating because he was going to be your boss.”
“Yes. Fortunately, we’d only had the one date, nothing serious. It wasn’t hard to move on as friends.” A car drove past us, headlights filling the car’s interior with too-bright light for a few seconds. Emma squinted and frowned. “Those brights aren’t necessary.”
As if the driver had somehow heard her, the lights shifted from brights to low beam. Emma nodded in satisfaction, then started the car again. “You never told me what was chasing you. You seemed scared.”
An image of the creature roared into my mind’s eye, and I shivered. Very slowly, I pulled one leg up and gently massaged the tight muscles, needing something to do with my hands. “It was a dream shard.”
“A what?”
Peasblossom stirred under my sleeve, but didn’t make her presence known. I concentrated on our link, sending her calming thoughts. “A few weeks ago, I made the tactical mistake of upsetting a sorceress that specializes in dream manipulation. She created the creature that attacked me by taking a remnant of the nightmare I had last night and breathing energy into it.” I didn’t add that this was just a guess on my part. I was confident I was right.
Emma shifted uneasily, her gaze darting to the rearview mirror. “She made a creature from a piece of your dream?”
“Yes. And then sent it after me.”
“What does a dream shard do?”
I swallowed hard. Remembering the creature brought back the icy sensation of its first attack, the single touch that had nearly frozen me with fear. “They try to pull their victims into the nightmare that spawned them. If they succeed, the dreamer’s mind plunges onto the astral plane, and their body falls into an unnatural sleep. The dream shard keeps them trapped in the nightmare and feeds off their terror.” I must have shivered again, because Peasblossom tightened her hold on my wrist, pressing her tiny face against my pulse in an offer of returned comfort.
Emma offered a nervous laugh. “Remind me never to make a sorceress angry.”
“Easier said than done,” I muttered.
A cloud passed over the moon, thick and heavy with the threat of rain. It plunged the inte
rior of the car into deeper darkness, making Emma’s next question sound more sinister than it should have.
“Are you a sorceress too?”
“No. I’m a witch.”
She shifted in her seat, straightening her spine as if stretching to check all her mirrors. “Will the dream shard come back?”
“No.” I took a deep breath. “No, it shouldn’t.” My insides still trembled like gelatin during an earthquake, and if the pain in my legs got any worse, I was going scream. If I was wrong, and that dream shard did return, we were in trouble. I certainly wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon. Perhaps a potion… I unzipped my pouch.
“So how’s the investigation going? I heard the coroner ruled it a homicide.”
I pulled out a mini shampoo bottle and frowned. “He did. Our victim didn’t die from an animal attack; he died from a gunshot.”
Emma’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “A gunshot? Did they find the bullet?”
I hesitated, but only for a second. “Yeah, buried in a pixie’s house.”
Emma shot me a quick are-you-serious glance. “A pixie’s house?”
“Yep. She wasn’t happy about it, either—the iron was giving her a headache.”
“That makes her a witness, right?” Emma said, a hint of excitement in her voice. “Did she see anything?”
“No, she didn’t see anything.” I looked at Emma and noticed the lines around her eyes that hadn’t been there a second ago. I almost kicked myself as I realized that if she knew Stephen was a werewolf, she’d likely guessed he was a suspect in the murder. “You’re worried about Stephen.”
She nodded. After a moment, she cleared her throat. “But now they can prove he was shot, they’ll stop looking at him, right? A werewolf doesn’t need to shoot someone.”
It sounded a lot like what Liam had said. And my response was the same. “Stephen carries a gun.”
“So?” Emma snapped. “I carry a gun. All the rangers carry a gun. Hell, have you see the gun laws? Everyone carries a gun now. Did you talk to everyone that was here last night? Everyone?”
Monster (Blood Trails Book 2) Page 15
