Stefan tucked her head under his chin. “Ready?”
“Go.”
He jumped out of reality, into the space between life and death, to reemerge halfway up the hillside to the west. They started walking again. Mel still looked unhappy, and the furrow between her brows was a bad sign. Once they were safe, when they could sit down and really hash things out, he would assure her that things were different this time, that he would never let her go.
Half an hour later, he caught the sound of passing cars. “I can hear traffic over there to the right of us.” He steered her toward it.
A dozen more steps, and he got a peek at the road. A few more, and he could see the side of what appeared to be a convenience store with gas pumps outside.
“I can change our appearance so we look normal,” he said. “We can go in and ask them to make a call for us, say we had car trouble.”
Mel nodded. “You go. I’ll wait here.” When he frowned, she shook her head. “It’s not that I don’t believe you can do it, Stefan.” She gave an uneasy smile. “I don’t think I can walk out there, wearing this, and trust that other people can’t see my butt hanging out of this scrap of nothing. ”
He could understand that, but… “I don’t want to leave you here alone. They could still be following.”
“I’ve got two bursts of ammo if I’m careful,” she said. “You’ll hear it and come running.”
Stefan ran a hand over her hair and let his fingers linger on her cheek. “I’m proud of you, sweet.” Her eyes softened, but the misgivings and the hurt lurking in their depths meant a tough conversation still lay ahead.
“Just ask them to call 911,” she said. “That’s easier than making up some story. The sheriff or whoever will call the Bureau, verify my identity, and we’ll assemble a strike force to take that place out.”
Rather than argue with her, he gave her a nod. “Stay out of sight.” No point telling her he was erecting a magical screen around her while he was gone.
Stefan glamoured himself into khakis, a blue polo shirt, and flip-flops. The simple action brought unexpected pleasure. Magic flowing smoothly in his veins after days of being cut off from it felt damn good.
Despite Mel’s request, he wasn’t calling the FBI. That would only bring more victims to the ghouls. The Bureau might be some of the best cops on the planet, but they were out of their league against these foes.
Besides, calling them in would alert the government to the presence of ghouls. Mages would have to intervene to protect the Mundane agents. Sooner or later, an agent would see what mages could do, and all hell would break loose. It would be like the scandal with Mack but exponentially worse.
He would phone Griff and find out how soon a Collegium helo could come for pickup. Then he’d worry about convincing Mel she couldn’t bring law enforcement agencies into this. And persuading her that he’d done what he had to, that he did trust her, or he wouldn’t have started the process in the first place.
Pasting a pleasant smile onto his face, he pushed open the glass door to the little shop. A bell jingled. The usual assortment of snack foods hung on three rows of racks, with a wall cooler at the end. Stefan’s stomach growled, a reminder he’d pulled off top-level magic with only stingily rationed canned soup for fuel, but he had no money.
The blond, teenage boy behind the cash register scratched his scraggly mustache as he nodded a greeting.
A thin woman in a gray business suit paid the boy and squeezed past Stefan. Giving her a smiling nod, he walked up to the counter.
“I got a problem,” he told the kid. “My girlfriend and I had a fight. She took off with my car, my wallet, everything. You wouldn’t happen to have a phone I could use to call friends for a pickup, would you?”
“My cell.” The boy eyed him skeptically. “How do I know you won’t run off with it?”
“You can place the call. My friend Griff will answer. Just tell him Stefan’s here, and where we are.” He’d like to know the where himself. “There’s twenty in it for you when he shows up.”
“Well, okay.” Pulling the phone from his pocket, the cashier asked, “Number?”
Stefan rattled it off.
The boy keyed in the numbers. Stefan could hear Griff’s skeptical hello before the kid explained, ending with, “He says to tell you he’s in Cherokee County, North Carolina.”
Scowling, Stefan’s new friend thrust the phone at him. “He wants to talk to you, but you try to take my phone, I’m coming after you.”
“Won’t be necessary. Thanks.” Stefan took the phone. “Griff. Hey.”
“Hey.” Griff sounded cautious, maybe afraid of a trick. “That night when I was sick at Hettie’s this summer, who was upstairs waiting for me to wake up?”
“Val and Magnus. And we had chicken pie, watermelon, and peach cobbler for dinner.”
Griff exhaled audibly. “Oh, man, am I glad to hear that. Is Mel with you? Are you safe?”
“Yes, and more or less, for the moment.”
“Will’s checking the map. He says we can be there in fifteen, but we’ll have to set down on the road, around the bend from that gas station. Go back in the woods and wait.”
So they weren’t in Wayfarer or at the Collegium. “Where are you, that you’ll arrive that fast?”
“We’re camped in a field near the town of Murphy. I’ll explain why later. ”
A chukka-chukka sounded faintly in the background as Griff said, “Josh is powering up the Huey now. Stay safe until we get there.”
“Will do. I promised the gas station clerk twenty.”
“I’ll see he gets it. And tell Mel we brought her some clothes. Got some for you, too.”
“Thanks. She’ll be glad to hear it.” It was just like Griff, or more likely Val, to think of that. They knew how ghouls treated captives.
Stefan and Griff signed off. Stefan returned the kid’s phone. “I’m going to walk around outside. My friend will bring you the money I promised.”
Although the cashier’s skeptical look spoke volumes, he couldn’t stop Stefan from leaving.
Now came the hard part, convincing Mel to go with him instead of calling her fellow agents.
Chapter 24
With Stefan gone, the forest seemed more threatening. Were ghouls going to pounce out from behind a tree? Yesterday, Mel would’ve dismissed the idea they could materialize out of nowhere. Today, not so much. They could come after her and Stefan, and in superior numbers. Her stomach took a queasy roll, and she pressed her hand against it.
She’d felt safer with him here. Being mostly naked heightened the sense of vulnerability, of course, but his powers were more effective against those things than the Uzi she’d managed not to lose along the way. He’d saved them both.
And yet she felt uneasy about this council of his. What if they saw her as a threat? They could wipe her mind of everything, and that probably included Stefan since her love for him was what had brought her to this point in the first place.
And she would kill anyone who tried.
He walked around the corner of the building and headed toward her. Despite everything, Mel’s heart lifted. She’d loved him for more than nine years, and she always would. Denying that would be pointless. Stefan was still the same person she’d fallen in love with, not once but twice.
Except he wasn’t.
“What did the local sheriff say? Where are we?”
“We’re in North Carolina, Cherokee County.” Stefan ran a hand down her arm. “I didn’t call the cops, Mel. They aren’t up to the job. I called people who are.”
“Damn it, Stefan, you’re not the Lone Freaking Ranger. Vigilantes are more trouble than they’re worth. ”
“Remember what you’ve seen, sweet. Take a minute to think about it. They can shield, as I did back at the nest. Ghouls can also shoot energy bursts, the way I did. Remember the guy I killed at the swamp.”
Mel froze as the memory flashed through her mind. She ran a hand through her grimy hair.
“If they can do all of that, why do they even bother with firearms?”
“Ghoul power has more punch at close range, so we figure they use guns for greater reach. Or to hide what they are from human allies. Shooting a ghoul with an ordinary firearm can kill its body, but the one closest to it absorbs its energy, gets stronger. Only a mage-crafted gun can destroy one. That’s why I use a sword. A bladed weapon channels mage energy for a direct clash with ghoul power. I truly could destroy a ghoul with my broadsword.”
Earnestly, he added, “Sweetheart, officers will die if they go up against those ghouls.”
“You sound as though they’ve been around a long time. You know a lot about them.” When he nodded, she continued, “But you said nothing. You let the deputies and me run blind, Stefan.”
“I tried to put out info that would make everyone cautious.”
“The references to PCP, vests. That’s not quite the same as bullets bounce off, now is it? Damn it, you lied to all of us!”
“No one would’ve believed the truth, even in Wayfarer. Would you, if you hadn’t seen it?”
“Obviously, you can prove the truth to them the way you proved it to me. The way I wish you’d proved it sooner. Agents will be all over Wayfarer now, looking for me. Come with me and show them what you can do. You can help us.”
His eyes flashed with such anger that she took a step back.
“Yeah,” he ground out. “And get taken into custody, poked, prodded, studied, held as a threat to national security. I’d be interrogated about my friends, harangued about whether there are more like me.” He took a step forward. “That’s what happens, Mel, when we try to make the world aware of our existence. You’ve heard of the Salem witch trials, the witch hunts in Europe. We call those the Burning Times because our homes, our resources, and our very lives were put to the torch. My people were driven to the brink of fucking extinction.”
My people. The words stabbed into her heart. She wasn’t one of his people, and therein lay a host of problems.
Mel took a shaky breath. No one would burn him alive now, but in all honesty, she couldn’t guarantee the Bureau or Homeland Security wouldn’t hold him. Yet…
Stefan gripped her shoulders. “That kid in Florida who ran into traffic and died last year, the one from Anstler College, down in the Florida panhandle, who was said to be a hazing victim?”
“What about him?”
“He was a fledgling mage, Mel. He drank too much, said too much, and his supposed buddies beat the shit out of him. Trying to get away, he ran out into the street and got killed. They freaked, so they lashed out at him, just like their Dark Ages ancestors. We have to be very careful who we trust, so we don’t advertise what we are. I told you that.”
He had a point. Panic made people irrational. That was one reason law enforcement sometimes withheld information from the public. “That’s tragic, Stefan, but our kind…we have a right to know about the ghouls. How many of them are there, anyway?”
“Maybe thousands. Across the world.”
“Thousands. Preying on people who don’t suspect they exist. Kidnapping. Murdering. Yet you said nothing.” Anger threatened to choke her. “Damn it, Stefan.”
“They prey on mages, too.”
“That doesn’t make it okay. People can’t take precautions against a threat if they don’t know about it.”
With obvious patience, he replied, “They can’t anyway, not against ghouls. That’s like sending a chipmunk to fight a wolverine. Learning about the ghouls would terrify them without making them any safer.”
“Thanks for the so-flattering image, but you can’t know that.”
“After thousands of years of mages fighting ghouls, and persecution and panic whenever we had to expose ourselves in that fight, yeah, I do damn well know that. You could aim a howitzer at one of their nests, and it might not break the shielding if there’re enough ghouls inside. On top of that, they’re magically hidden. You can’t find them by sight or even with infrared unless you back it with magic.”
A faint chukka-chukka sound came through the trees. Mel looked up. “Do they have military helicopters?”
“No. That’s our ride. They’ll set down around that bend for us.”
“For you.” What she had to say made her heart hurt, but she couldn’t be with him on this. “I’m calling law enforcement and getting in touch with the Bureau so we can do our job.”
“What the hell do you think we do, twiddle our thumbs?” Stefan scowled at her. “Mages have been looking after humanity, fighting ghouls and demons for you, since before the pyramids were built.”
Mel shrugged. “Yet the ghouls endure. You fight your way. I’ll fight mine. I’m going to call the sheriff, the local police, whoever. With the arsenal at the Bureau’s disposal, we’ll find something that works.”
His eyes narrowed to brown slits. “If you want to march in there more than half naked, feel free, but there are clothes for you on that chopper.”
Shit. She’d forgotten her not-actually-clothed status. The helo flew past, heading for the road. The wind from its rotors whipped the tree limbs.
“We’re going to find that compound,” Stefan added, raising his voice over the helo’s noise, “and take it out. You can get in on that if you go with us. Without us, you’ll never find it. It’s magically concealed.”
“Bullshit. You will not attack that compound.” Mel rapped out the words, following him as he stalked toward the road. “We’ll find a way to penetrate its defenses. Those people, or whatever they are, will pay for their crimes, but in accordance with the law. Their victims deserve their day in court, and you could help make that happen. I suspect some of your friends also could.”
He wheeled on her, his expression hard as stone. “Leave my friends out of this.” His face softened, weariness and pain washing over it. “Let me prove it to you. Come with me, see what I’m talking about.”
Mel shook her head. “Stefan—”
“What if I’m right, love? Do you want the slaughter of your comrades on your conscience? I have a couple of friends who know all about what that’s like. What will it hurt to come with me?”
It would make her complicit in his deceit, which amounted to obstruction of the investigation into Cinda’s murder. Yet…she’d seen that place. There was merit in his argument, whether she liked it or not.
Do you want the slaughter of your comrades on your conscience? he’d asked. What if he was right?
Mel blew out a frustrated breath. “Okay.”
“Thank you.” Stefan closed his eyes and swallowed. When he opened his eyes, he looked wary. “I need your word you won’t reveal the identities of anyone you recognize on the helicopter.”
“What about the rest of it? Aren’t you going to ask me to keep that secret, too?”
“Sweetheart, this is what I mean about trusting you. If you decide I’m right, you’ll keep the secret. If not…all I ask is that you keep my friends protected.”
“Fair enough. You have my word.”
“Stay here, and I’ll get our clothes.”
Watching him go, Mel absently rubbed the ache above her heart. He’d held back so much—maybe with good reason.
But she wasn’t one of his people. If something happened to her, would he go this far to protect what they had? He hadn’t before. He’d allowed her to walk away from him, and if not for Cinda’s death she would never have seen him again. How did she know he wouldn’t walk away from her when things got tough this time around?
* * *
As the helicopter flew over the forest, Mel studied the occupants from her seat next to Stefan. Besides the pilot, Josh Campbell, Stefan’s friends Will, Griff, and Val occupied the other seats. The man on the left, Carter Lockwood from the swamp, sat behind a 40mm grenade launcher mounted in the open doorway.
Everyone wore combat helmets and camouflage that seemed to shift color now and then, blending almost perfectly with the olive drab interior. Stefan had given her a set, too, t
hough the bag at her feet held her own clothes, courtesy of Val. No one spoke. Maybe her presence was inhibiting conversation, but everyone’s face shields were up, and they’d even given her a headset so she could communicate. They were trusting her word not to reveal their identities. Considering everything Stefan had said, that was no small thing.
She glanced sideways at him. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes intent to the passing forest, his lean body taut. That body had bulked up and toughened over the years, but she still knew it in the ways that truly mattered.
Thinking about his body made her heart ache. If only she could touch him, just connect amid all this strangeness, but she wouldn’t risk an awkward moment in front of his friends.
As though he sensed her feelings, he took her near hand, holding it down between their bodies. His warm grip and slight smile eased some of her worry. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe what he meant to show her would somehow help her resolve her conflicting loyalties, even her doubts.
After about ten minutes, the Huey reached the general area where Stefan thought the nest might be. With the doors open, wind whipped through the chopper.
“Scanning,” Will said from the copilot’s seat. His voice sounded sharp and clear over the onboard comm net. “The crystal isn’t picking up ghoul vibes yet.”
“I got nothin’,” Lockwood reported.
Stefan had explained that the mages were open to the world around them, seeking ghoul presence or magical screening. The large, clear crystals they used also helped pick up ghoul magic.
Apparently, mages didn’t use helos to spot nests unless they would afraid the ghouls might already be evacuating. Otherwise, they risked the noise alerting their quarry.
Griff held a shotgun across his lap. Each of the others carried a sheathed broadsword. Stefan’s was at his hip. Rather than ask him over the comm net about his friend’s firearm, Mel made a note to cover that later.
“I’m getting something,” Val said. “Ghoul magic. Swing left, Josh.”
“Roger that.” The tall, broad-shouldered pilot banked the chopper into a turn.
“Heat signature! Multiples.” In the copilot seat, Will almost crowed in triumph. “Gotcha, you bastards.”
Guardian (The Protectors Series) Page 28
