Dig Deeper (Keepers of the Swamp Book 2)

by T. S. Joyce

  Reporter: “Sir, can you watch your language? We can’t use any of this footage if you fill it with—”

  “I’ll talk how I like,” Cal yelled. “Bleep me out for all I fuckin’ care. I’m passionate about keeping my woman safe from the claws of that…”

  “Liam?” Lanley carefully said from behind him. Just over the roaring in his ears, Liam could hear the officer unsnap the button of his gun holster.

  He was walking, though, one foot in front of the other, out of control of his body. Did he even want control right now? He didn’t know.

  They want to kill you, the gator taunted him. Taint your bond with Morgan. Kill Holt and Bre, too, as soon as they figure out she’s carrying a gator. Kill everyone and everything you love. Take Morgan from you.

  “Mmm hmm,” Liam growled.

  You kill them first. Protect what’s ours.

  Everything was bathed in shades of crimson. Red parking lot, red cars, red reporters. Cal and Seamus were red. Red dead red dead.

  Someone was screaming his name. A woman. Bre? Two people were screaming his name now. Familiar voice.

  Finish it.

  “Liam! Liam, no!” Morgan?

  Too late to stop now.

  No more room for angels on his shoulders.

  Only devils.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Morgan skidded into the parking lot of Fellerman’s Car Lot, nearly up on two wheels. She’d never driven so fast in her life to get somewhere.

  Bre was here, pulling into the other entrance at the same time. Morgan jammed her foot on the brakes and skidded to a stop. What the hell was happening?

  In the right corner was Cal and Dad, doing some kind of interviews. With news reporters? Liam was talking to the police, but his eyes were on Cal. He wasn’t wearing sunglasses, and his eyes had no human emotion at all. The gator had him, gold in the eyes with long pupils, and he looked like he was hunting. As she threw her truck into park, he turned and began walking toward the reporters, but his gate was off. It wasn’t human. He was walking with the stealthy grace of a predator.

  “Liam!” Bre screamed.

  Morgan couldn’t take her eyes off Liam to see what Bre was doing, but she had the right idea. They had to stop whatever was happening. Whatever Cal and Dad were doing was bad for Liam.

  She left the motor on and the door open, just jumped out and sprinted for him, but he was fast. “Liam! Liam, no!” she screamed as he closed the gap to Cal.

  He smiled.

  It was an awful, empty, devilish smile that she didn’t recognize.

  And then something horrible happened. There was a smattering of loud, echoing pops that sounded like gunfire. She hunched, terrified, but it wasn’t gunfire at all. It was the breaking bones of the man she loved as the gator ripped out of him. And, oh, whatever she’d imagined his animal to look like…it wasn’t this.

  He had to be at least eighteen feet long. The armor that covered his body was painted with blue, green, yellow and black hues that made him look like a camouflaged work of art. Long spikes delved down his back in two rows, and his tail whipped powerfully as he hit the ground on all four massive webbed feet. His mouth was open, his eyes trained on the crowd in front of him.

  “Oh, fuck a duck,” she murmured, pushing her legs harder as she rounded a row of used cars. Her shoes slipped on some loose gravel and she nearly went down, but she caught herself by her palms on the concrete. She ignored the scraping pain. “Liam! Look at me! It’s me, I’m here!” she screamed.

  But if he heard her, he didn’t respond at all. He was in the hunt and faster than any living thing she’d ever seen. He charged the reporters—no, he charged Cal and Dad.

  People were screaming. So was she. “Run!” she yelled. “Everyone run!”

  They scattered, abandoning cameras, news vans, microphones…

  Dad looked afraid again as he and Cal dove under a truck. The Gator hooked his claws under the sidestep of it and flipped it end over end, right over the top of the three trucks beside it. The crash was deafening. Now there was gunfire. Cal and Dad were on their backs, unloading clips into Liam. The sound of the bullets hitting him echoed through the lot. The gator flinched back, but his eyes were still intent on the pair of men he’d unearthed.

  Who was screaming? Who was screaming in rage and terror? Her? It was her.

  Whatever was happening, Dad and Cal deserved the consequences. They had come here to goad his animal out of him, and they’d come prepared. They had an arsenal of weapons. They shot until they had no ammo left. The realistic, logical, tough-girl swamper in her said they deserved Liam’s teeth. But if Liam lost control and killed them with all these reporters as witnesses, he didn’t stand a chance, and neither did any other shifters.

  Bre must’ve been thinking the same thing since she was pulling on Cal’s arm, trying to drag him backward toward another truck. Liam let off a roar of fury that chilled her blood, and he turned back toward them, mouth open, a row of razor-sharp teeth promising death to them both.

  It was her job to protect him. Her job.

  She pushed her legs harder and jumped, falling onto Dad. She turned just as his teeth came down. “Liam, it’s me!” she screamed.

  He hesitated, just for a moment, but it was enough. Something blurred in her peripheral and hit him in the side like a cannon ball.

  It was a dog.

  A German Shepherd.

  “Fargo?” Bre murmured from beside her.

  The dog had latched onto Liam’s back armor and was shaking his head viciously. Liam spun and snapped his jaws with an audible clack, but Fargo was fast. Like…unnaturally fast.

  There was more screaming, and then Holt was here, his face red with rage.

  “He’s got control. Off!” he yelled, and Fargo released him immediately.

  Holt pointed to Bre and Morgan. “Bre and Morgan, get back from them. Fargo?” He twitched his fingers at Cal and Dad. “Fuck ’em up.” Fargo bolted for them.

  Bre and Morgan scrambled away from Cal and Dad, and Fargo sank his teeth into Cal’s arm, shook him hard enough to rattle his soul, if he had one.

  Liam’s monstrous gator backed up slowly toward the building away from the onlookers. His mouth open, he was hissing loudly. More breaking bones and, holy fuckin’ shit, Holt had Changed, and now there were two Lachlan gators in this small parking lot. He backed up with Liam, but charged two steps forward anytime anyone got too close. He was…he was protecting Liam.

  Morgan watched in horror as a trail of smeared blood painted the sidewalk where Liam had backed up.

  And rage took her. Rage at everything. Her whole life was hurt by Cal and Dad. Any shred of affection or respect she ever had for them evaporated. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned to Cal.

  “Help me!” he screamed as Fargo dragged him backward by the arm.

  Help him? Like he’d helped her ever? He was a thorn in her life, and now he’d aimed to kill the man she loved. Her shot at happiness. That’s what men like Cal and Dad did. They sucked the happiness out of someone. Drained them until they felt like they had nothing, all so they could feel in control of something. Of someone.

  “Fargo,” she murmured. “Off.”

  The dog released him just as she lost her shit. Cal looked relieved for a moment until she fell on him and blasted her fist against his face over and over. Who was screaming? Was that her? Was that her making that awful sobbing sound?

  “Morgan, stop!” Dad yelled. But when he lunged for her, Bre stepped between them.

  Fist throbbing, Morgan gripped his shirt and shoved him back on the ground. “I hate you for what you’ve done. If I lose him because of you, I’ll make sure your life is just as unhappy as mine. For eternity.” She looked at her dad. “Yours, too. You couldn’t just let me be okay, could you?” Tears were streaming down her face. “Fuck you both.”

  “Morgan,” Holt called, his voice echoing with worry. They were by the building now, blocked by a couple of trucks.

&nb
sp; She stood and jogged for where Holt and Liam had Changed back into their human skin, Liam propped up against the wall of the dealership, Holt blocking most of his body. Fargo trotted on one side of her and Bre on the other.

  “And fuck you, too,” Morgan yelled, finger at the reporters who were gathering like vultures.

  The police were with Liam and Holt. “We have to take him in,” Officer Lanley murmured. “We need to get him some help.”

  Liam was Changed back, and he was a mess. More tears because Morgan knew just how bad it was. People didn’t come back from what Dad and Cal had done to him.

  “Doctors can’t help him,” Holt said. “Get the other side of him, Morgan.”

  Breath hitching, she angled herself under Liam’s arm, and her heart absorbed the pained groan Liam gave off as she and Holt aimed him for Morgan’s truck.

  “Well, we have to do something!” Lanley exclaimed.

  “Y’all have done enough,” Bre said somberly as they left them behind.

  The parking lot was destroyed. Cars were overturned, people were picking up equipment, some were hugging. One of the officers was arresting Dad and Cal, but Morgan couldn’t be bothered enough to care about their plight.

  Bre and Fargo jogged to her old blue Ford High Boy, and Holt dragged Liam into the bed of Morgan’s truck.

  “I’m gonna pass out soon,” Liam said hoarsely.

  “I know,” Holt murmured. “Morgan get in.”

  “I’m staying with him,” she said, climbing into the bed.

  Holt didn’t argue, just closed the tailgate and ran to the driver’s seat. And as Morgan cradled Liam’s head in her lap, Holt took off.

  “Morgan,” Liam said. His voice broke, and he swallowed hard. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

  “Not if you leave.”

  “If I leave, you leave,” he whispered. “Leave this place and start fresh.”

  “Stop it.”

  “Morgan—”

  “I said stop it! Don’t you fucking say goodbye. You’ll always be a part of these swamps, and I’ll be here with you. I’ll be here with you. I’ll be here with you. You promised,” she sobbed. “You promised me a sunrise.” She leaned down and hugged him tight. “I love you.”

  When he didn’t answer, she eased back by inches to find he’d closed his eyes. He was still breathing, though, and as long as there was breath, there was hope.

  “If a doctor can’t help,” she called through the suicide window. “What will?”

  Holt pulled onto the main road, tires spinning, and then he glanced at her through the rearview with ghosts in his eyes. “A witch can.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The next hours Morgan would only remember in flashes.

  The drive to Liam’s house.

  Raina waiting on the front porch.

  Her face when Holt and Morgan brought Liam inside.

  Liam on the table.

  The row of leather pouches Raina had spread across the kitchen counters.

  The plants hanging from the ceiling and burning in bowls.

  The smell. She gagged on it at first.

  The sound of metal hitting a pan as she and Raina pulled lead from Liam.

  The way she counted his breaths.

  Fargo sitting with his head resting on her leg.

  Raina pointing to him. “You go get me something living now, you hear? I don’t care what it is, just make sure it’s still living.”

  “He can’t understand you,” Bre said from the couch.

  “Can’t he?” Raina had clipped out.

  Fargo had trotted to the door, and Holt had let him out.

  Raina pointed to Holt. “Get me something alive from the swamp water.”

  “What for?” Morgan had asked numbly as Holt left without a word.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Dark magic?”

  “Mmmm,” was all Raina had said.

  The lack of fear in Morgan’s chest.

  Bre saying, “Morgan, do you need a break? Maybe you shouldn’t see this.”

  Raina’s answer for her. “She’s family same as you, Bre. You’re both my girls. Y’all can see what you like. He gonna be fine. He’s very strong—gatahs are. It’s in their genetics. Gatah-men? Even stronger.”

  The word family.

  The way Raina had said it with such conviction. You’re both my girls.

  The way Liam’s hand felt as Morgan held it through the ceremonies that followed.

  The numbness.

  The fear.

  The hope.

  Bandages.

  The smell of dark magic. Bayou magic.

  Sleeping Liam.

  The way Raina and Bre hugged her so tight and promised everything would be okay, just like Liam had.

  How pale his skin was.

  The blood in the bed of her truck when she went outside for a breath of fresh air.

  The fear of losing him. Losing his future. Losing hers.

  Bre watching news footage on the television in the living room.

  That old gas station owner, Jasper Sutherland, did an interview. “We as a town want the reporters to stay out. We’re a close-knit community, and y’all listened to the wrong people just for the shot at a story. Shame on you for intruding. We won’t be standing by for that anymore. You want to get yourself ate up, you try to intrude on the lives of the people here again.” When had Jasper become so well-spoken? “You got one of our own hurt, possibly killed tonight, just for a story. That’s enough. Y’all want a story on them swamp shifters, you ain’t gonna find it here. You’ll find a whole pissed-off town who is good and tired of the outside world interferin’.” He nodded to whoever was standing off-camera holding the microphone. “That’s all we have to say.”

  The video panned to a crowd of unhappy-looking townies staring down the interviewer. Don’t mess with Uncertain. For the first time ever…she was proud of where she came from.

  In the span of what felt like a year, one night passed. One long night. She didn’t sleep, only laid beside him while the others slept in the living room. Raina checked on him every once in a while, but the tension faded from her more and more with every check-in. Little by little, there was more conviction in her voice when Raina repeated, “Everything will be okay.”

  And little by little, Morgan relaxed into the knowledge that maybe, just maybe, it would.

  ****

  “Okay, I’ll let her know,” Bre murmured into the phone. She sighed as she hung up and knocked lightly on the open bedroom door. “You still awake?”

  Morgan pulled her ponytail holder out of her hair and shook it out, the chair creaking under her shifting weight. “I don’t think I could sleep if I tried.” She watched Liam’s bandaged chest rise and fall again and tried to smile at Bre. At least she thought she was smiling. It had been a long day. Her entire body felt like putty.

  “That was Officer Lanley, and he advised us to go get your stuff from your dad’s house.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re about to let him and Cal go.”

  “What?” Morgan straightened her spine as fury blasted through her veins. “Fuck that. Let them rot in there!”

  “Well, they have a lawyer.”

  “Bullshit. They can’t afford toilet paper. Where did they get a lawyer?”

  “From an outside party. Someone saw the news footage and apparently took an interest in their plight and is paying the lawyer fees.”

  “You mean someone anti-shifter?”

  Bre nodded. Her eyes were so tired, and she cupped her still flat belly. “It would appear so.”

  Oh, gosh, here Morgan was angry over Dad and Cal, and Bre was pregnant, still awake, worrying over Liam right along with her. She’d helped today, even tired. She’d put herself at risk for her and Liam. “Are you okay?” Morgan asked her.

  Bre shrugged up one shoulder. “It makes me sad that anyone anti-shifter even exists. I’m gonna have one, and I already love him so much, but the
world scares me.”

  “Don’t let it,” Morgan said. “You got Holt and Raina, who is fuckin’ terrifying and can, like, hex everyone apparently. And Liam and me. Fargo, too. And this town is getting more and more protective of what they’ve got here. Of the gators.”

  Bre leaned against the doorway. “You’re right. Our support system is growing. Tonight was meant to damage us, but there are just as many news stories defending us out there as the bad ones. Come on, I’ll go with you. Lanley said he can only put them off a couple more hours, but your dad and Cal are spewing some hate from their cells. You shouldn’t be anywhere around that when they come home.”

  “Well…what if Liam wakes up?”

  “I’ll be right here,” Holt said, appearing behind Bre in the doorway.

  “Yeah, and how do I know you won’t eat him in his weakened state?” Morgan teased.

  “A few months ago I would’ve,” Holt deadpanned. “Things are different now. I’m…” He swallowed hard and brushed a strand of Bre’s hair from her face. “I’m different now. Just…make quick work of gathering your things, okay? Take Fargo with you. I don’t like us all separated right now.”

  “I don’t have much from my old life,” Morgan said. “Not that I want to keep. I have some money stashed away to help me start over, though. I need to get that out.”

  “Come on, I’ll drive,” Bre told her. She turned and kissed Holt goodbye, and it was such a tender moment as he rested his hand on her belly that Morgan almost looked away just because she felt like she was intruding.

  Morgan laid a kiss on Liam’s forehead and whispered into his ear, “I’m coming right back to you.”

  The drive to her old house took an eternity. Everything had changed, and nothing felt familiar or comforting about the woods around it anymore. The deeper they drove into the swamp, the more detached Morgan became.

  “You know you’re gonna figure everything out, right?” Bre asked as she pulled up to the dark house. “Liam won’t let you fall. None of us will.”

  “Do you think Raina really meant it earlier? About being part of the family?” Morgan asked as they got out of the old High Boy.