by Jill Knowles
“Now, Greg,” the other man said. “There’s no need for things to get unpleasant.” He took a step toward Maggie, an oily smile on his face. “It’s my understanding that there’s money to be made here. What do you say we all sit down and discuss this?” He gestured toward the chairs with his gun.
Should we play along? Her gut said no, that cooperating with these two men in any way was a bad idea. Maggie shook her head. “No.” Her heart raced as the words left her mouth. The line between pushing just enough and pushing too much was a thin one. She avoided looking at the shotgun. She took a deep, calming breath. The “brink of a thunderstorm” feeling was getting stronger. Maggie could almost see energy crackling around them.
“Ah, hell, Carl.” Greg ignored the nasty look his partner gave him. “These two ain’t going to put up any fight. Look at ‘em. A shrimp and the town librarian.” His weight shifted forward, like he was going to take a step.
“We’re not leaving,” Dax said. “And we’ve got the police on the way. They should be here any minute.” He smiled at the two men. “In fact, if you leave now, we’ll forget we saw you, no hard feelings.” Maggie could see him shift slightly so his weight was on the balls of his feet, ready to move quickly if things went south.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Carl said. “I’ve seen the pictures, and the baskets alone are worth a fortune.” His nose wrinkled in disgust. “I was hoping to avoid killing anyone.” He sighed, shaking his head. “But it looks as though that is no longer an option.” He spared a brief glance at his partner. “I trust that won’t be an issue?”
“Not at all,” Greg said, looking at the SUV parked next to Bertha. “Sean, get your ass out of the tent.” A nasty sneer twisted his lips. “And move real slow, or I’ll give Junior a few extra holes to fuck.”
“Keep your shorts on, Greg,” Sean said, holding his empty hands out of the tent flap. He placed his palms carefully on the ground and crawled from the tent.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maggie saw Dax crouch slightly, the energy roiling off him almost visible.
Distraction, I need to make a distraction. “Oh, please. Greg likes to talk big, but he faints at the sight of blood, remember, Sean?” She put every bit of scorn she felt for him into her voice. “He couldn’t even dissect a worm in biology class without swooning like the heroine of a Victorian novel.”
Two things happened at once.
“Bitch,” Greg said, starting toward her, the gun swinging in her direction.
At the same time, Dax sprang forward, aiming for Greg, his left foot slipping on a loose stone. The demon went down hard on his injured shoulder, a grunt of pain escaping him.
Maggie felt the release of pent up power as she knelt next to Dax. Chaos strikes again, damn it. She was really getting sick of irony. Dax’s face was pale, his expression strained with pain and regret.
“Chaos,” he mouthed the word silently. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she murmured. The thing that could save the library might very well have doomed the three of them. They were trapped now. Dax was prone on the ground, badly shaken from his fall, and she was on her knees beside him. Getting to their feet to run would take too much precious time. She placed her hand on his good arm, offering what comfort she could. Their only hope was to provide enough of a distraction for Sean to get away.
Carl pointed his gun at Dax, leaving Greg to cover Sean and Maggie. “That was just foolish. And spectacularly ineffective. What did you hope to accomplish, getting us to shoot you sooner? That can be arranged. I only need one hostage to force the compliance of the ‘reinforcements’ you described.” He looked thoughtful. “In fact ...” He pulled the trigger on his gun.
Maggie flinched, expecting to feel bullets tear through her. Instead, she just heard a loud click as the gun jammed. Okay, maybe irony isn’t so bad after all.
“Motherfucking son of a bitch,” Sean yelled. He took an aborted step forward, jerking to a stop as Greg targeted him.
“Useless American manufacturing,” Carl said pointing his gun at the ground. “Shoot these two; we’ll keep the cop’s boyfriend.”
Dax was growling under his breath, his muscles tense beneath her hand.
Greg stepped up beside his partner, raising his gun to his shoulder.
“No, Greg, you can’t,” Sean said, his voice breaking. “Stop.”
Maggie lifted her chin, refusing to look away from her killer. Her fingers tightened convulsively on Dax’s arm as she waited for the shooting to start. Her vision seemed to narrow down to a sharp point as she saw Greg’s finger caress the trigger.
An earsplitting shriek rent the air.
“What the hell?” Greg said, swinging around to face the vehicles.
Bertha.
The Jeep’s horn honked again, a teeth-jarring, strident sound that commanded everyone’s attention.
Maggie took the opportunity to crawl two steps forward and grab the shotgun, leaning back on her heels and firing toward the two men. She didn’t try to aim; they were close enough together that she had a good chance of hitting both.
Carl screamed as part of the load of birdshot hit him mid-thigh in a rush of blood. Greg let out a high-pitched shriek as the edge of the shot pattern caught him in the groin. He dropped his M16, clutching frantically at his crotch and falling to the ground, squealing.
Maggie tensed as she heard more engines, and positioned the shotgun so she was ready to go. Beside her, Dax struggled up onto his knees.
Junior’s white pickup came into view, three more behind it. As the peace officer got out of his truck, Maggie recognized Joni and Kevin Taylor in one of the distinctive green Forest Service trucks. She put the gun on the ground and crawled back to Dax, taking his hand as she let the tears fall.
“Hey, Junior,” Sean said. “You’re a bit late for the rescue.”
Chapter Seventeen
The next hour passed by in a blur of introductions, police reports, paramedics, arrests, and tours of the cave site. When Maggie and Dax looked back on the day, only a few snapshot moments stood out.
* * * * *
The man who stepped out of the Land Rover was tall and lean, with quirky good looks. Dark auburn hair fell just past his shoulders, and he had a prominent, interesting nose. Well-shaped, generous lips seemed expressly made for smiling.
“Small brother,” he said, striding forward to give Dax a hug.
“Hey, Jethro.” Dax returned the hug with interest, nearly lifting the taller man from the ground. “Twerp.”
“Ooof, let go, oh freakishly strong one,” Jethro said, pushing Dax away.
Dax turned to Maggie. “This tall drink of beer is my very good friend and adopted baby brother, Jethro Lake.”
“Beer?” Maggie asked, then remembered her manners and shook hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Jethro.”
Jethro grinned at her and said, “I do not drink ... water,” in a classic Dracula impression. “Oh, and please, call me Jet.”
Dax snorted. “Yeah, we call him Jet ‘cause he’s a minute man.”
Jethro gave his foster brother a dirty look. “Nope, it’s because I’m way smarter than shorty, and I pick things up that much faster.”
“Hi Maggie, gentlemen,” Joni Taylor said, walking up to them.
Dax grinned at the Forest Service archaeologist.
She’d just finished her first brief tour of the site, and her blue eyes were shining, though her face was pale as milk. “This is, it’s ...” She stopped, visibly pulled herself together, and tried again. “This site is fantastic. The organics, the bodies ...” She shivered. “... the sheer age and volume of the artifacts.” She hugged Maggie. “I think this is going to be one of the greatest archaeological discoveries in North America.”
Jethro, who’d also viewed the interior of the cave, stood nearby looking shaken. He’d thrown up immediately after leaving the cave, and was now loading film into a high tech camera. “I’ll get you copies of all the photos I take. I’ll be
working with Dax on the story, but we want to make sure and cooperate fully with you folks.”
“Thank you, Jethro. That will make things easier.”
Having Jethro here was a huge relief. Dax studied his best friend, noting the fire elemental’s pallor after leaving the cave. Jethro was a brilliant photographer, bringing a surprising amount of sensitivity and humanity to his photos. Not bad for someone born in the heart of a firestorm.
The elemental nodded toward the far side of the toppled boulder, then ambled toward it. Dax joined his foster brother, noting that the crack in the boulder had gotten wider.
Jethro maneuvered them until he was standing with his back to everyone but Dax.
“What’s up?” Dax murmured.
“This site has fire energy all over it.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Jethro stared past him, and Dax knew his friend was sensing the energy patterns. “It’s tied to a volcanic explosion of some sort.”
“Whoa.” That couldn’t be good. “Anything else? And how recent?”
Jethro leaned casually against the boulder, closing his eyes.
Dax waited patiently, his eyes drawn to where Maggie stood talking with Officer Quinn.
“I’m just getting the ‘magic eight ball’ answer. The power is ancient.” He stood up straight, fiddling with his camera. “That’s all I can get. Too much interference. I’ll try again later.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Will do.” Jethro turned so he could see Maggie and her friend. “Maggie’s pretty. And tough as nails, I’m guessing.” Jethro checked his gear as he spoke, not looking at Dax.
“She’s amazing,” Dax said. He wanted to tell Jethro all about her, but this wasn’t the time. Too many people surrounded them, and he knew most of the other man’s attention was on the cave and the best way to photograph it.
“You’re in love with her.”
Dax choked on his own spit, coughed, and said, “What?”
“Breathe, Dax,” the elemental said, voice dry. “Are you denying it?”
“No.” He couldn’t deny it, and didn’t want to. “How did you know?”
Jethro unscrewed the lens cap and raised the camera, peering through it at the two women. After snapping a series of pictures, he lowered the camera and gave Dax his attention. “You trust her, and I’ve seen you touch her for comfort and reassurance. You don’t do non-sexual touching, Dax. You’ve known me for nearly forty years, and you’ve only recently learned not to flinch when I hug you.” The camera was back in front of his face, and he talked as he took photos of the loaded police cars leaving the site. “For someone with your background, you’re pretty stingy with your personal space.” He let down the camera, putting the lens cap back into place. “Does she know about -- you know?”
Dax grimaced. “Yeah. Long story.”
“I booked a room at the Eagle’s Nest. You can tell me later.”
Suzie Quinn walked by, nodding to the two men.
“Hubba, hubba,” Jethro murmured.
“She’s a cop,” Dax said. He’d never seen Jethro intrigued by a woman like the police officer. The fire elemental usually liked his women tall, leggy, and dark. The petite blonde was none of those things.
“Introduce me.” Jethro’s eyes never left Suzie’s back. When she bent over to pick something up from the ground, giving them a perfect view of her tight, shapely ass, Jethro’s jaw dropped.
“Sure thing, buddy.” Dax reached over and gently closed Jethro’s mouth. What is it about the women of Keily?
Watching Jet watch Suzie, Maggie couldn’t keep a grin from her face.
Suzie Quinn leaned against Junior’s pickup, her lips compressed in a tight, thin line.
“I’m sorry about Greg,” Maggie said. He and Carl had been arrested for attempted murder, and would go straight from the hospital to a jail cell.
Her friend snorted. “I’m not. He’s a jerk.” She tossed stray wisps of honey blonde hair out of her face. “No, I’m sorry for Aunt Noreen and Uncle Henry. They think the sun shines out of Greg’s ass.” Pausing, she added, “Which is one of the reasons he’s such an insufferable prick.”
“In keeping with the archaeological theme, I can only say ‘denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.’” Maggie’d gone through school with all three of the Cannon children, and couldn’t stand any of them.
“I can’t believe he hooked up with a guy like Carl Sillik. Or maybe I should say, I can’t believe an intelligent crook like Sillik would get mixed up with my cousin.”
Maggie thought of the bland man who’d attempted to shoot Dax. The image of the man sitting near the table when she’d told Dax about the creepy place flashed into her mind. That’s where I’ve seen him. “Who is he? I’ve seen him in the library, but he’s never signed up for a library card.”
“We’ve had our eye on him since he came to town. He’s a drug dealer who also traffics in antiquities.” Suzie gave Maggie a feral grin. “It’s quite a feather in our caps that Junior and I arrested him.” She glanced over at Jet. “Your boyfriend’s buddy is a hottie. What do you know about him?”
Maggie felt a thrill at hearing the word “boyfriend.” How junior high is that? “I don’t know much. He’s a professional photographer, and he was willing to drop everything and come here to help Dax and me protect the site.”
“Hmm.” Suzie couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from the tall man. “I’ll have to check him out.”
“You do that, Suzie.” Jet was definitely a “hottie,” in more ways than one. Maggie felt like she should warn her friend, but wasn’t sure what to say. Finally, she settled on, “Be careful you don’t get burned.”
* * * * *
Finally, after a few hours that seemed like forever, it was time to head back to town. His foster brother was staying at the site along with several others, but Dax and Maggie were going home for some much-needed rest. As he placed the last of his gear into Bertha’s cargo bay, a loud crack made him jerk around toward the cave. The toppled boulder was in two pieces, about a third of it broken away from the rest.
Jethro was already staring down at the largest piece, and Dax joined him with a bit of demonic speed.
“What the heck?” Joni said, as she, Kevin, and Maggie joined them.
The scent of brimstone mingled with the stench of putrification, making Dax wrinkle his nose in disgust.
“Look,” Jethro whispered, pointing to the rock.
Dax leaned forward and felt the blood drain from his face. The cross section of the rock contained a hollowed out area, the center of which was about the size of an old-fashioned silver dollar. It looked as if a twenty-armed starfish had been neatly carved into the stone. The memory popped into his mind, making him shudder.
Corpse-wraith.
* * * * *
They’d just reached the turnoff for the main road back into town when Maggie’s curiosity got the better of her. “What had you and Jet so freaked out?”
“Excuse me?” Dax asked, glancing over at her.
“The broken boulder with the weird pattern in it. You both looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“Not a ghost, a corpse-wraith.”
“A what?” Did she really want to know? She released her grip on his hand when he tugged it away so he could downshift.
Dax pulled over to the side of the road and turned to face her. “A corpse-wraith. They’re nasty.” Rubbing at his bad shoulder, he continued, “I’ve heard stories, but wasn’t even sure they really existed. I don’t know of anyone who’s ever seen one.”
Nope, don’t want to know. Need to know. “Okay, hit me.”
He tapped her arm with a mock punch. “From what I’ve been told, they’re a side effect of an overabundance of death magic. Ritual sacrifice of sentient beings.”
“Okay.” She drew the word out to several syllables. Here we go again. Is nothing ever calm around this man? I will never complain about boredom again. “How does this side effect work?”
/>
“My oldest sister could explain this in detail, but basically, any energy that isn’t consumed by the ritual surrounding the sacrifice sort of clumps together inside of a rock or some other inanimate object. Eventually, a hollow is made in the rock, and the corpse-wraith becomes corporeal. When something breaks the host rock, it gets loose and finds a dead body to possess.”
“Like the bear.”
“Like the bear,” he agreed.
Here, boredom, boredom, boredom, come here, I’ve got chocolate for you. “How dangerous is this thing?” And could they please talk and then have sex before they had to deal with it? She wanted to see his true form, so she could reassure him that she loved him no matter what. The stray thought that maybe she would be repulsed by the demon slipped into her mind and was quickly dismissed. This was Dax. If she could accept chaos, she could accept horns and a tail. Now, she just had to convince him of that.
“Very.” He took her hand. “They are voracious predators, and devour anything they can catch. The more they eat, the hungrier they become. According to the stories I’ve heard, the only way to destroy one is with fire. Really, really hot fire.”
“Then it’s a good thing your friend Jet is planning on staying in town for a while.”
“Yeah.”
“Are the folks back at the site in danger?”
“No. Corpse-wraiths apparently fear the place where they were spawned. At least, that’s what I’ve always been told. Jethro knows the same stories I do; he’ll make sure everyone stays safe.”
She remembered the visceral fear that had assaulted her last night. “I think it would have come after us last night if it could have.” If they’d camped a little further from the cave entrance, would the creature have attacked? Maggie rubbed goosebumps from her arms. I don’t want to know.
He shuddered and pulled back onto the road. “I think you’re probably right.”
* * * * *
Dax drove them back to town, his hand leaving hers only long enough to shift gears. Maggie rested her head on the seat back, enjoying the wind blowing through her hair. It would not be fun combing the resultant tangles free, but for now, it was worth it. She rolled her head sideways to look at him. “So, what now?” Her body seemed to vibrate with tension and energy, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the next few minutes were critical to her future happiness. She’d avoided relationships for the past few months, not willing to take a chance on another failure. Now, she wanted Dax in her life as much as she wanted the library to reopen. Chaos is unplanned change. I didn’t plan on falling in love, but damned if I’m going to let it go.
