by L. A. Banks
“Yeah, that’s generally how it goes down, little brother.” Bear started walking, clearly disgusted. “They have large sizes, you know . . . Still might be uncomfortable, but beats a blank.”
“And you’re explaining this to me now?” Incredulous, Crow Shadow rounded Bear Shadow with a snarl. “I didn’t know they had different sizes! The thing she gave me only made it a third of the way up!”
“Magnums . . . Those will get you halfway covered, at least.”
“What? Like you couldn’t have told me before—”
“Did you get her name?”
Crow Shadow stopped walking. “Yeah, man . . . It was Cassie . . . Casey,” he called out behind Bear Shadow. “No, wait a minute. Kelsey! Man, don’t you get religion on me now—after the fact!”
“Got a last name?” Bear Shadow shouted over his shoulder.
“Fuck you, man!” Crow Shadow shouted.
Bear Shadow spun on him and hollered down the street, pointing. “No, fuck you, little brother, if this human female comes up pregnant with a half Shadow Wolf and you have to go to the clan council to stand before Silver Hawk and Hunter and Sasha to explain how this happened, when this happened, and then have to decide if you are going to take ownership to bring the child into the wolf pack, with or without the mother . . . It gets very complicated. Doc’s life is living proof of that! You don’t even know this woman’s last name or address, so you can’t claim you were caught up in love. This was boys’ night out! Kelsey was not your human woman that you wanted to get permission to make your life mate . . . and you bed her bareback? Are you crazy?”
“Okay, man, you’re scaring me, all right,” Crow Shadow said quietly.
“Good!”
Bear Shadow stood under a streetlight breathing hard as Crow Shadow stared up at the moon.
“Then can you do me one favor, man,” he asked in a quiet voice.
“What?” Bear Shadow bellowed.
“Can you at least walk me back to their apartment so I can get her name and address off the mailbox?”
Hunter got out of the jeep with a shotgun over his shoulder. That same feral female scent was back, the one he’d noticed at both murder sites. Then again, this was a brothel, and the scent of feral female blanketed the area for miles.
Regardless, this was not the night anybody needed to fuck with him. Bouncers snarled and four took a stance as Hunter approached the front entrance.
“You gotta check your weapon at the door.”
Hunter lowered it in a flash and took aim before any of them could lunge. “Consider it checked, or do I need to deposit silver?”
“What’s your beef?” a burly manager said, parting the security squad at the front door. Gold tips capped his upper and lower canines, and the name Butch sparkled in gold-rimmed diamonds across his front teeth. “Everybody in here is having a good time. Put the shotgun up for safekeeping, and we’ll gladly accept your cash, too.”
“I’m looking for my brother,” Hunter said with a snarl, not giving up his weapon.
Butch nodded and chuckled. “That’s all you had to say.”
CHAPTER 14
A svelte, androgynous male came over to the baron’s blackjack table, leaned in close, and whispered in his ear. His pale green silk shirt and linen pants provided a beautifully sharp contrast with his dark brown tresses that merged with the baron’s as he deposited juicy gossip.
“It’s starting, milord.” The male companion tossed his brunet hair behind his pointed ear and allowed his graceful fingers to lightly rest on the baron’s broad shoulder.
“How so?” the baron murmured, his fangs cresting in anticipation.
The baron’s companion motioned to a server to bring the baron another blood goblet, reveling in the attention he was receiving from the ladies who drew in closer to hear the dirt. “Both males are at the Buchanan brothel and, let’s say word has it that neither is disposed for combat with anyone but each other right now. The Buchanans will make their move soon.”
The baron laughed and shook his head, accepting a fresh blood goblet as his ladies clapped and giggled. He lifted his golden chalice and gave them a slight bow from where he sat. “How perfect. So, after the brothers half kill each other, Buchanan’s kith and kin can finish them off . . . as would be their right for erupting in violence in their establishment. We will not be culpable and will not have blood on our hands.”
“Perhaps a future alliance, then?” The companion drew back to stare at the Vampire, drinking in Baron Montague’s jewel-blue eyes with his own.
“Patience, Kiagehul,” the baron crooned. “We shall see.”
Sasha felt like she was about to leap right out of her skin as she drove back toward the bed-and-breakfast. Something was wrong; every nerve in her body was standing on end. Wolf distress was in the air. The scent of fear tickled the back of her synapses and raised the hair on her neck.
But she hated not knowing whether or not it was her human gut instinct or something more refined—wolf instinct, or just the heebie-jeebies from the dark spell. Moving bodies that had been charred to death didn’t help. Still, something was spooking her internal radar, and that was hardly ever wrong.
Turning the corner, she brought the jeep to a screeching halt, pulling over to get out of the way of light traffic that was behind her.
“Bear? Crow?” she shouted, leaning over the seat towards them.
They stopped walking and just stared at her.
“You guys okay? You need a ride?”
“Sis, honest to God, I’ve never seen a better sight for sore eyes.” Crow Shadow dashed toward her and hurled himself into her backseat, and then hugged her, seeming like he was too choked up to speak.
But Bear was more cautious. He looked around in all directions like a wanted man. “Uh . . . Have you seen Hunter?”
“No. You guys have any idea where he is?”
The expression on Bear’s face was a cross between relief and jubilation. The man seriously looked like he was ready to break down and do the happy dance in the middle of the street.
“Mind if we escort you to him, stay on your flank, and, uh, otherwise be of service, ma’am?”
All she could do was stare at Bear Shadow for a moment. “Uh, yeah . . . That was sorta the idea. Hop in.”
“We don’t really have to go into details with Hunter about us all getting separated for a little while, do we, Sis?” Crow Shadow said quickly as Bear climbed into the front passenger seat. “What’s a few hours amongst family?”
Sasha smiled. “How long were you guys AWOL?” She held up her hand. “Never mind, I don’t wanna know and it’s not important.”
“You are a decent person, Captain Trudeau,” Bear Shadow said with genuine affection. “Thank you.”
Sasha just shook her head.
This was a setup, if ever he smelled one. Hunter bounded up the stairs above the strip club to the private rooms. His men were AWOL, Sasha was missing, and Silver Hawk was at Finnegan’s trying to talk Doc down. And his brother was here—unacceptable.
He kicked the door with his boot, and held the shotgun to the ceiling, pressing his back to the wall. The door opened, and a female form filled it.
“Need to talk to Shogun,” Hunter said in a low command. “Now.”
“He’s otherwise indisposed, sugah,” the pretty but disheveled female said, giving him attitude.
“Tell my brother I need to speak to him,” Hunter said with more snarl in his voice.
The door swung open and Shogun filled it, zipping his pants, eyes blazing.
“We need to talk,” Hunter said, inclining his head down the hall away from the woman in the doorway.
“About what?” Shogun said, growling. “Clearly, if I’m here, you’ve won.”
“Not about that,” Hunter said quickly, and then reached around Shogun to snatch the female he’d been with. That scent was back, that scent was near—so close it had to be her. Hunter put the barrel of his shotgun to her cheek before Sh
ogun could knock it away. “Drop it, bitch.”
Shogun backed up as the female slowly extended her arm and dropped a small Lady Derringer on the floor. He stared at her and then his brother.
“Smell it. Silver loaded,” Hunter muttered. “You would have died in your sleep.”
“That wasn’t for him, it was for you,” she said with a lisp, as the barrel pressed into her cheek. “How did I know you weren’t coming to fight him?”
Hunter flung the angry female Were away from them as his brother picked up her gun.
“Hunter, she’s all right,” Shogun said, frowning. “You’re—”
A shotgun blast tore through the wall past Shogun, grazed Hunter, and gutted the angry woman that had been leaning against the door frame. She dropped in a crimson pool of her own blood, silver buckshot still smoldering in her skin where it passed through the wall into her.
Hunter was pure motion, yanking his brother by the arm as they started to run low while shotgun shells exploded over their heads the whole length of the long hallway. Hunter ran straight for the window. He and Shogun let loose a howl calling their men to safety as they crashed through the window, fell three stories, and landed in a crouch amid shattered glass.
They headed for the tree line and took cover, Hunter holding the weapon parallel to his body.
“How did you know?” Shogun asked quickly, breathing hard.
“Shadow walk,” Hunter said, peeking around the tree. “Your instincts are off, senses dulled . . . There’s dark magick that cannot permeate the shadow lands.”
Shogun nodded. “I owe you.”
“We’re blood—no debt,” Hunter said, glancing around the tree again. “You need to get you and your men out of here. There are false walls in here, all kinds of sewer tubing underneath here for escapes . . . passageways for assassins. I didn’t come to fight with you—the shadow lands cleared my head and I hope your escort momentarily cleared yours.”
War howls filled the air as Shogun nodded. “I have to get my men.”
“You hear that?” Sasha said, driving faster until she was driving like a maniac.
Bear Shadow and Crow Shadow just stared at her for a second.
“Listen! It’s a combined war call—Hunter and Shogun! Where are they?”
“At the Bayou House, but you can’t—”
“I can’t what?” Sasha’s growl cut off Bear Shadow’s statement. She stepped on the gas, barreling the vehicle toward the B&B. “Go inside and get Woods and Fisher’s artillery while I keep the motor running! Tell Winters to let Doc and Silver Hawk know Buchanan’s people have attacked our clans!”
The shadows wouldn’t have him. Stunned when he made a running leap and hit a tree, Hunter sat up dazed. A knot was forming on his head, his shoulder ached, and the wind had been knocked out of him. But concussion or not, he had to get up. Feral female scent thickened the air and, combined with the impact of colliding with the tree, it made him nearly retch.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” he said in a low, disoriented rumble, getting up slowly from the ground. “I can’t shadow jump.”
Shogun stared down at his hands. “I’m not transforming, brother. My wolf won’t come to me!”
“Then that means that your men are sitting ducks, if their wolves lie dormant,” Hunter said, studying the building as it emptied of Buchanan’s Louisiana clan in droves. “So are we.”
Bear Shadow took over the wheel as Sasha leaped from the jeep and grabbed the M-16 that he tossed her.
“I’m going through the shadow lands as the advance squad. If Hunter and Shogun, along with his men, are holed up in the Buchanan den, they are definitely gonna need backup.” Sasha took a running lunge toward the shadow cast by the brick building, hit the wall, and fell flat on her back, sprawled.
“Oh, shit, Sis!” Crow Shadow yelled, jumping out of the vehicle.
Bear Shadow stood up in it. “Captain Trudeau! Sasha!”
He bounded toward her, helping Crow Shadow help her up. She had a busted lip and a large knot was beginning to form on her forehead.
“Son of a bitch!” she said, spitting blood. “They’ve blocked us from shadow jumping now?”
Winters was on the porch in a flash with the door wide open. “Trudeau, what the fuck, sir? You okay? You look like you just ran into a brick wall.”
A window on the second floor opened and Woods leaned out, nude from what she could see. “Captain, you’re back? You all right? I heard yelling.”
“Get Fish,” Crow Shadow hollered up. “This ain’t a drill, shore leave is over, soldier.”
“Roger that!” Woods said, slamming the window.
“I’m gonna go get Doc,” Winters said, dashing across the street and not waiting for a directive.
Bradley opened the third-floor window with a robe on. “Captain Trudeau?”
Sasha squinted and waved him off. Her head hurt like hell. But before she’d ever even known that she was a Shadow Wolf, she had been a soldier—and that was the one thing the dark spell-casters hadn’t counted on. With support from Bear and Crow on each side, she pushed herself to her feet.
“Okay, gentlemen, we do this the old-fashioned way, then. Hand grenades, C-4, whatever else the boys packed for the joyride.”
“I just cannot understand what type of dark magick could be at the root of this conflagration?” Sir Rodney leaned against the fortress wall and stared at his top advisor as though gut punched. “Why can’t we see it? Garth, as my best man, explain why can’t an expert investigator like Thompson give us solid evidence at this late date?”
“Someone who has had access to your personage, milord, could have gathered bits of your hair . . . a bit of cloth, a fingernail . . . maybe your seed . . . other personal artifacts of your being, to stir into a wicked brew. This is clearly chaos magick of the darkest sort—but who did it remains the mystery. Mayhap that is what the young Phoenix girl was so afraid of? She could have gleaned some evidence as to whom we seek? But there is a blind-spot spell levied against you directly, sire . . . and the rest of this erosion is only evidence of the significant danger we are all in.”
“Do you know what ye are saying, man? Do you know the vast import of a charge like that? If Desidera—”
“I don’t think she wittingly gave you up,” Garth said, cutting off the king’s words. “But whatever was left of you in her apartment . . .”
Sir Rodney closed his eyes with a groan.
“Aye,” Garth said quietly. “This is why I do not say these things lightly or ill-advisedly. But it’s the only thing that makes bloody sense. I shall not presume to lecture milord . . . but as the head of state, and having amassed so much additional power over the years . . . Well, frankly, sire, there are simply some things that you cannot involve yourself in any longer—at least not outside the safety of the castle walls.”
Sir Rodney nodded. “I’m going to try something.” He waved his hand along a section of the huge stone wall as he pushed off of it and then stood back.
His guards jumped back and gasped. The section of the wall disappeared.
“Reverse spell polarity,” Sir Rodney said with a nod, rubbing his chin. “They have booby-trapped our intentions . . . So if I wanted to be unseen, I’d be seen by human eyes. If our Pixie dust was to make the day go by faster and with an energy lift for our guards so they stayed alert, it had the opposite effect of making them lazy and sluggish or inattentive. Same thing with the glamour we don.”
“That’s not something a coven could do, is it, sire?” one of the guards asked. His attention was riveted on the king, his voice a terrified murmur.
Sir Rodney shook his head. “Not alone. It would take tremendous coordination to blind me, my advisors, and our investigator, then to also erode our powers as well as diminish the protection around the fortress.”
“Blimey . . . But who would be so bold?” another guard asked, still marveling at the apparent hole in the wall.
Sir Rodney stared at his elderly advi
sor. “I should think someone who stood to profit from the spoils of war—bleedin’ daylight has already left us. I want these walls shored up, our entire village re-charmed!” He looked deeply into Garth’s ancient eyes. “And lift that bloody blinder spell.”
Garth nodded, summoning the other advisors with a spark from the end of his wand. “It will be so.”
“But, sire,” a palace guard said, jogging alongside the king as he paced away. “We also have to get word back to the others. The wolves that ran ahead don’t know what we’ve just discovered.”
Sir Rodney waved his hand and kept walking. “If we don’t have a fortress, we don’t have an army—no place to protect innocent men, women, and children. This is my first priority. The wolves are battle worthy, so are the Dragons—the Mythics will hide . . . and the infantrymen and archers are trained soldiers. If they’ve brought their families, they will fight to the death.”
“But the Brownies and Gnomes . . . the defenseless Pixies and Fairies out there. Even our cherished friends and brethren, the Light Elves . . . others like Ethan McGregor and his family, milord.” The guard stopped walking, his young face bereft.
Sir Rodney squared his shoulders, walked back to him, and grabbed the young soldier by his upper arms, looking deeply into his eyes. “I know, man, and you did well to get word to Ethan to warn them at The Fair Lady. Understand that what I say isn’t without deep consideration. I am not heartless; I know the risk that they are under now that they can be easily seen and have booby-trapped magick.”
Sir Rodney walked away troubled and clasped his hands behind his back, closing his eyes as he spoke, his voice becoming low and impassioned as he tried to make the men around him understand.
