Standard Deviation of Death (The Outlier Prophecies Book 4)

by Tina Gower

  The witches outside continue to laugh and hiss at our attempt. Until Dorcus stops abruptly. I twist my head to see her grimace and grab the frame of the door. She lets out a long frustrated grunt, her hand snakes protectively to her stomach. Both men are instantly at her side.

  She grits her teeth, a death glare on Ali. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”

  Ali grabs Becker’s arm. “Shake it off. We gotta get to Lipski. Move it. Now!”

  He tightens his jaw and snatches me up from the floor and tugs me behind him. Salt scatters around us as we dart down the hall and off to the back exit of the house.

  I’m overcome. Either from the sudden jolt of shifting from sex, or the power of the magic, or from dread over what Ali has done—a rush of adrenaline, the burn from the open wound on my wrist—all the air leaves me at once and fills me with panic instead. My heart pounds against my ribcage like a prisoner begging for release.

  “Gods, Ali, what did you do?” We burst out of the house and into the woods, putting as much distance between us and them as possible. “Please tell me you didn’t do anything to an innocent baby.”

  My bare feet are cut on the rocks and pine needles and bark shavings on the forest floor. I hop-jog in a pitiful attempt to keep up with Ali and Becker.

  “They’re going to kill Hank and you’re worried about a baby?”

  “Ali—”

  “Kate, she’s nine months pregnant.” She says it as though that explains it. “I can’t do much to harm the baby unless I venture into blood magic. That wasn’t my focus.” She huffs as we run, limbs smacking us. We push them out of the way. “I had to hit all three of them with something. Both men have an emotional bond with her. All I did was call to the moon.”

  “Call to the moon? But there’s no moon tonight.” I glare up at the pitch-black sky with a spray of stars. Most magic follows the cycles. Some spells are near impossible with no moon. “How did you do that?”

  “My mother always said, just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not there when you need it most.”

  Becker runs ahead of us, stumbling, hitting the limbs out of his way with more force than necessary. “What’s wrong with him?” My shift in focus causes me to grip my shirt tight. Seven hells, I’m running through a forest, asking questions too fast for her to answer. I take a deep breath. It doesn’t work. My toe slices on another tree root. “Shit. I’m not going to make it.”

  Ali wraps her arms around my waist to help me. “We only have a few minutes to get clear. Then I’ll bet the next contraction will start.”

  “Contraction?”

  “Yeah, I put Dorcus-Becky in labor and I wrapped the Brazil boys into a protection spell. They won’t leave her side. If they do it will cause sympathy pains. My mother would cast it on women who would come to her in labor; sometimes the husbands-to-be would try to flee. This way, they couldn’t. She’s going to be a little tied up every couple of minutes, but not incapacitated. My bet is that she comes after us between each contraction.”

  “You’ve pissed off a mother. Great.”

  “Hey, you, get over here and use that pent-up energy,” she says to Becker under her breath.

  He turns around, eyes in full glow, baring his teeth. “It’s too much.” He paces, scraping along his arms until he punches a nearby tree. Then again. And again.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I ask for the second time tonight.

  Ali’s shoulders slump. “I’m sorry. I thought it might affect him this way, but I had to do it. It was the only spell I could think of.”

  “Will it wear off?”

  She doesn’t answer.

  Becker marches at us and Ali props me against a tree and moves a few feet away. “Goddess, Becker, take a deep breath. Breathe through it.”

  He hoists me over his shoulder into a fireman hold, my underwear-clad bottom bared to the world. And we’re moving again, a little faster than before.

  I bang on his back. “Put me down. Stop it. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “He can’t.” Ali jogs to keep up with us. “He has to work off the side effects. It’s what powered the spell. Sexual frustration is serious business as a base for magic. And his overprotectiveness came in handy to seal the side-magic with the Brazil brothers. But magic has never agreed with shifters. It’s why I only took a drop of his blood.” She wheezes, clutching her side. “Hells, I’m not in shape for this.” She points, veering off to the left of us. “Lipski would have come from this way. I can see the edge of one of the traps over here.”

  Becker shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “No. That’s not it. I can smell the magic.” He turns while he scans the maze of trees. “There. That way.”

  Me? I don’t see or smell anything. “Okay, you guys, make a decision. What direction do we go?” I feel sort of ridiculous saying it to Becker’s rump.

  He goes still, crouching. “Shh, they’re behind us. About a half mile.” His voice rasps, sounding like each word is a growl.

  Ali’s eyes widen. “We can’t let them catch up. You’re both bleeding.” She flaps her arms in the air.

  “What do you mean, Ali?” I was careful not to bleed on the floor, knowing they might collect my blood for a counter spell. And Becker’s scratch on his face bled for only a second.

  “If they get both of you, we’re in deep shit. She’ll have what she needs to work some powerful spells. She could counter the one I just cast.”

  “We have to find Lipski. I can’t let him die out here,” Becker repeats.

  His fingernails dig into my thighs. I jerk in response and he eases up slightly.

  I blow out a breath, my stomach hurting from the position I’m in over Becker’s shoulder. “We have to split up. They’re tied together with Ali’s spell and you’ll go faster—”

  Becker hugs me tight around my legs. “No. We’ll go faster. I can outrun them.”

  Ali shakes her head. “All they need is the pillowcase you’ve been sleeping on and they can cast a finding spell. They’ll know where we’re going. It’s what I’d do.”

  I sigh. “And we don’t have a clue where to look for Lipski. They’re going to eventually catch up to us.” I tilt my head thinking of something. “Can you hear him? Hank I mean?”

  “No,” he answers. “He might be out of range or…”

  Unconscious. He doesn’t say it, but this close to his body—even upside-down with only a view of his backside—I can sense his desperation to get to his partner before anything terrible happens.

  “If they get to both of you and without a salt circle to protect you, we’ll be handing them their victory.”

  Gods, they devised a perfect trap. Of course, we’d protect ourselves in the house with salt. They wouldn’t be able to penetrate the wards and we could wait them out until help came. So they backed us into a corner to depend on a few people. Then used our trusted ally, Lipski, as bait. Ian would go after his partner. No question. Bam, they get a werewolf. Ali goes after him, bam, they eliminate our only witch who can counter their spells. We all run off together, Becker won’t leave me, so they basically have the whole recipe intact.

  But…

  “You have to leave me.”

  Ali’s mouth hangs open in shock. “Kate—”

  “No,” comes Becker’s clear decisive block to my idea. He slides me off his shoulder, continuing to hold me close. His eyes are bright shiny gold. “I won’t leave you unprotected. Ali can—”

  “You can smell the magic and Lipski, she can undo whatever MED they’ve cast on the area. We can’t all go together. They’ll catch up to us before we can even get close. I don’t have shoes. You’ll go faster—”

  He grips his head, covering his ears. “No. I said no.” He says it with not as much confidence as before.

  I grab both his wrists, forcing him to meet my gaze. “You have to get to Hank. I’ll lead them away. With luck you’ll get Lipski and be back to me before they find either of us.”

 
Ali takes a cautious step forward. “She’s right. We have a chance if we split up. We’re running out of time. They’re closing in on us, right? Can you hear them?”

  Becker lets out a deep frustrated grunt. “Damn it, Lipski.” He squeezes his eyes shut, his fist gripped, as if punching some more trees will make this decision easier.

  “Becker, this is the smart move. The one with the highest chance we all come out of this alive.”

  He nods, lips tight, and sweeps me up, then marches me to a boulder jutting up from the forest floor like a crooked table. “You’ll stay here, if you see them, you’ll hide, you won’t let yourself be found, and I’ll be back. It won’t be long.”

  He pins me with a look, “don’t do anything rash” it says and he stomps off running in the direction he believes Lipski would have gone. Ali runs after him.

  Don’t be rash? Don’t take any risks? I hadn’t planned on it. But that’s not the reason I crawl from my hiding space ten minutes later when I see the three witches headed the direction Ali and Becker went.

  Chapter 16

  Dorcus braces herself against a tree, squatting and grunting. I shrink a little farther against the rock, hoping they’ll pass by without spotting me.

  “Breathe. Little breaths.”

  Edu demonstrates what he means blowing in her face. Emmanuel rubs her shoulders.

  Dorcus shrugs him off, grinding her words. “Don’t touch me.” Her eyes go glassy and she focuses on some object beyond, moving into another world until she relaxes. Then she smacks Edu’s face. “I’ve done this twice before. I don’t need a coach to tell me how to breathe.”

  “The contractions are coming closer.” Edu shakes his head. “We should consider abandoning this plan. If we leave now we can slip away to somewhere they will never find us.”

  She brushes the leaves off the bottom of her dress. “No. This is our best chance. We have them all in one place. We can eliminate their threat and continue on as the prophecy says. We will bend fate to our will.” She nods. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Emmanuel holds the ball of light; it flickers as if he’s trapped a swarm of fireflies between his palms, except we don’t have lightning bugs that light up in California. The color swirls, making a point, an arrow indicating the direction of Ali and Becker.

  “How far?” Edu asks.

  “Not far.” Emmanuel assures him. “We can still capture them and without protection we can kill the wolf and use his blood to control the fateless. Then New Karma will have to take our way of things seriously. No more ‘fixing’ what the departments have done wrong.”

  “And Ali Hale is mine. I could kill her for putting our child in danger this way. But I’m thinking of more inventive punishments. Our daughter should have been born in a hospital.”

  “Our son you mean.” Both men correct her.

  She shakes her head and gives them each a whatever smirk. It’s weird hearing their plans in between normal banter of husbands and wife.

  They walk.

  Gods, Becker is going to flip out, but I can’t let them kill him. Ali’s unable to protect him with magic against three witches, and I don’t know if they’ve found Lipski yet. I have to stall their search. I have to give them something else and, unlike Ali or Becker, once they have me they can’t predict what I’ll do next.

  I step out of my place behind the rock, a stick as my weapon, and on careful feet tiptoe behind them. I get close, nearly spitting distance until Edu brushes the spot on his neck I’ve been staring at as if he can feel my gaze imagining a knife thrust in that exact spot.

  He turns. Eyes widen. I swing. Miss.

  The stick sails off in the opposite direction. I lose my balance and fall on my butt. Out of instinct I scamper, lobster-walking away from the witches.

  Dorcus is the one of the three with the quick reflexes and she hobbles after me, falling to catch my legs, flattening me against the pine needles and various forest debris. It’s also wet, like someone poured a bucket all over my legs.

  “Careful. Goddess Becky, you’re like a wild fire mage. Doing things without thinking.” Edu helps her up.

  Emmanuel seizes me, hooking my arms behind my back with his strong ones. I wiggle more out of show than to expect to get free.

  Dorcus stands on shaky legs, hip distance apart, her knees bent slightly. “My water broke. Oh goddess.” She bites her lip. “And another one.” She squats, moaning, nearly lowering all the way to the ground, but Edu holds her from behind.

  It’s my chance. I use my lower body strength to angle myself and stomp hard on Emmanuel’s foot. Him in shoes and me barefoot, the move doesn’t work the way I’d been promised it would. So I have to get creative and jut my hips back to make contact with that sensitive center on every man. It works enough that Emmanuel lets out a sharp oof and his arms go to protect that area, giving me a chance to unlace one of my arms and go for his eyes. Poke. Then I take off in the opposite direction.

  Edu runs after me at Dorcus’s insistence, but soon crumples to his knees in complete agony. Let him breathe through it. I nearly want to blow in his face like he’d done to his wife.

  Gods, I’m sympathizing with my captor.

  The contraction probably seemed like forever to them, but a millisecond to me, because before I can even celebrate my victory, they’re back on their feet lumbering, wobbling, and limping after me.

  I’m pounced on again, unsurprisingly. I’m completely regretting not grabbing shoes. From now on the number one priority to threat of capture would be suitable, appropriate footwear. In fact, from this point on I vowed to rid my shoe collection of anything I couldn’t run the mile, jump kick, or severely cause a dent in someone’s head with. Combat boots. Yes, please gods, if I survive this I promise to only wear combat boots.

  Promise. Not promise. Maybe if I’d been halfway serious the gods would have granted me that one wish.

  Emmanuel grabs at my shirt and tugs me down. We both fall and roll. His brother grabs my legs. Still slick with amniotic fluid, I slip from his hold the first few tries. Edu slides me across the leaves and dirt. I claw and reach for the direction I wanted to be going. Away from them. Mulch crams under each fingernail for my efforts.

  He holds my ankles together while Emmanuel captures each wrist and folds them behind my back.

  Dorcus presses my cheek against the ground. “Kate, right? That’s your name. We’ve heard about you. Unpredictable by any oracle or seer. And believe me, we’ve tried. I’ve practically strained myself getting a read on you. It might surprise you to know that we’re not the only group after you. And believe me, you’re better off with us.”

  “Sh-omehow…” The word comes out sloppy; my lips are squished together from the amount of pressure she’s using to hold me. “I doubt that.”

  The dirt and leaves by my mouth flutter with each of my heavy breaths. It cakes on one side of my mouth, threatening to push inward. Its bitterness causes me to drool. I use my tongue to thrust the flavor out.

  After a few moments of non-struggle from my end, she eases her hold. “There. That’s better. We really don’t want to hurt you.” She kneels lower, and her head rests on her forearm, nearly in child’s pose to keep our faces close. “I’d rather study you. See what destinies you can change. After all, you’re our outlier. You’re the catalyst for our prophecy.”

  I shake my head. But as she says the words, she speaks my worst fear out loud. The truth I’d buried too far down to grasp. I didn’t want to believe it. I didn’t want to accept it could be possible. “No. You have it wrong. I can’t change anything. I don’t have any power. I don’t.”

  She doesn’t answer. Her face scrunches up and turns to rest between each of her forearms. Another contraction. She spreads her legs slightly wider, blowing through the intense cramp. Her stomach squeezes from each side, going stiff.

  I close my eyes wishing to float away. My parents laughing in the car beside me. We’re on our way to visit my brother before his wife has her baby.
She’s about to go into labor. I couldn’t save them from destiny. If I could I would have.

  If Dorcus—Becky—whatever, I can’t think of her as Becky anymore. Plus, it helps me keep her from gaining mental power over me to know I have something on her. Anyways, if she’s right about the fateless, it means everything I believed about being fateless was wrong and if I’d known, if I’d tried—that day years ago would have ended much differently. It would have ended with my mother and father holding their first grandchild.

  “I can’t save anyone. I can’t.” The words are like sharp sticks that catch in my throat with each breath.

  “Not tonight,” she says and motions for the men to sweep me onto my feet. “You won’t be saving anyone tonight.”

  I’m lifted and twisted. Emmanuel secures me around my arms, Edu shoves my legs under his armpit, and I’m carried like a pig to a feast, swinging between them. I struggle to keep my neck straight. This position is going to give me a migraine.

  Dorcus pulls out a swath of cotton. I recognize the pattern from the sheets Becker and I had been sleeping on. She chants until sparks scatter. They hiss and flicker as she gathers them into a ball. Finding spell.

  We walk a few steps, until Dorcus stops, supporting herself against a tree, rubbing her belly and moaning through the next contraction. “Not yet, baby,” she whispers. She caresses her stomach as if the baby were already in her arms. “We’re almost there.”

  Then we’re moving again. All I see are the tops of the trees; all I hear is the crunch of the leaves under six footsteps. Bugs chirping. Birds screeching. Wind shaking the branches and the groan of the forest.

  We stop. I wiggle to get a look but can’t see much except several stone crosses and chiseled boulders. The grass tickles against my spine and the wheat husks bend and slap my face. The men set me down on a long cement platform. I rub my ankles and wrists.

  I try getting a view of the odd space. It looks like an old gravesite of the monotheistic human tribes who used to populate this area a hundred and fifty years ago. I’d heard there were a few sites this far out. Instead of burning the bodies on a pyre at the grave marker they would bury the body whole in the ground. I shiver. Sounded horrible. In some cultures that ensured a body’s spirit would be trapped for eternity. Maybe they were afraid of becoming a ghost? Although how ridiculous is that? Ghosts aren’t real.