by Livia Quinn
Phoebe said, “He was the only Paramortal who died during the last Para-moon.”
“Let me try to access Dylan’s family history.” Aurora placed her hand on Dylan’s head and her lids drifted closed. The circles under her eyes had not gone away even though her smooth youthful complexion had returned. She inhaled and seemed to put herself into some kind of trance. Then her eyes flew open, flaring with anger. “His father was poisoned.” She looked at my mother. “Phoebe, did you know?”
Phoebe looked as angry as Aurora. “No. We were dealing with some of Aretuu foes in another area, and when the Para-moon ended, Karl was dead. Dylan’s mother, Sera, didn’t know what had happened to him.” Mystiq was nodding as Phoebe finished.
“Mysti, what are you thinking?” I asked.
“It matches what I’m sensing from my search of his Qi—poison. In his case, it was a spelled poison, cast at the time of his father’s death to eliminate all of Karl’s offspring, and because their essence was part wolf, it was triggered by the Para-moon. That’s why he’s not getting any better.”
“That is evil, and typical of the Aretuu. What can you do to help him, Mystiq?” Phoebe asked.
Mystiq opened her mouth to answer but stopped. From her expression I expected the next part would be the most difficult.
Aurora’s voice was solemn, “She will have to destroy the finrir to save Dylan.”
Phoebe and I both gasped, my heart squeezing tight at the thought of what Dylan would do, who he would be, without his shifter. “No. Is that true?” My eyes filled as I looked down at Dylan. “He’d rather be…” my voice trailed away.
Jack
Second place in alpha-mones.
I understood their distress. I thought I knew how Dylan would react. The macho warrior, even though he was fairly intimidating as a man, might rather be dead without Wolffie. And what right did they have to make the decision for him?
I heard the front door shut and footfalls that sounded like an army, which could only be Conor and Montana. They stopped at the edge of the living room, Conor’s size and his huge swords making the room seem tiny, even with its twelve-foot ceilings. Montana wasn’t a shrimp either. I wondered if he could morph into dragon form inside an enclosed space. If he did there’d be nothing left of the plantation home. Wake up, Jack.
While I’d been daydreaming, Tempe had updated Montana and Conor on the problem. “Dylan’s been a finrir for almost four hundred years, how will losing his shifter affect him?” Tempe said.
Phoebe said hesitantly, “It would be difficult for any older Paramortal. Our supernatural side is like having an identical twin, only more so.”
“Yes,” Mystiq said, “and though it might be painful to lose your friend, your consideration should be whether he would rather die than be without his supernatural nature.”
“Is that up to us?” Montana asked.
The silence lasted until I said, “I thought I’d die when I had to give up flying F-18s, but I’ve adjusted.” What I didn’t say was that the longing was just as acute, like when I visited the airport or simply watched a plane leaving contrails across the sky; and when I watched Conor take off and land.
Tempe reached for my hand. “I didn’t want my power. In fact, I pushed it away for years but I have to admit, I feel more…complete…with it.” She shrugged, “Dylan would have to fall back on his human job for motivation wouldn’t he?”
“That’s a good point,” Montana said. “If I couldn’t fight, I’d still find a way to protect my people.”
Conor looked at Montana, “Phoebe is right. After so many years, twill be difficult for him to be powerless, especially if he has to live forever without shifting. “Montana has more than one supernatural power, as well as her other gifts, so I doubt it would affect her the same. She’s verra…confident.” Montana winked at him.
When Conor started drawing out his o’s and r’s it was obvious he cared about Dylan’s future, and he barely knew him. “Diablo is confident,” I said. My eyebrow arched as I took in Conor’s hulking size and obvious machismo. “He takes second place only to you in Alpha-mones.”
He stroked his chin thoughtfully and answered me. “Tempe has a point about the inspector’s motivation. Mayhap that would be enough. But could it be this demeanor of his comes from the connection to the finrir? The wee bit I saw of Dylan before his…decline leads me to believe twill be a difficult transition.”
Mystiq waited until we’d weighed in then said, “There may be a chance that he would still be able to shift, but not into the great finrir that he used to be. If I’m able to save his shifter, perhaps his Paramortal bond would remain intact. What and who he becomes will depend on how powerful the magic is and the strength of his will.”
“What about you, Conor?” Montana asked, looking up into his eyes.
The big knight reached for her hand and tucked it gently in his. Her face was softer, almost serene as she waited for his answer. He smiled down at her. “I have yoo, Lass, and we have our fightin’ skills. I wood miss torchin’ shmoo and bigger beasties, but ach, I’d survive, especially with yoo beside me.”
Montana leaned into him.
Wow. This was a moment. Everyone in the room gaped. The two most stoic warriors I knew were declaring their feelings right there in front of us all. I looked up at the ceiling and beyond to where the moon was located. Was there something else going on that we didn’t know about? Conor gave her a squeeze and said, “I must go below.”
I smiled at Tempe, then turned to Mystiq. “Okay, looks like we’re in agreement that you should do what you can for Dylan, and try to save even a diminished form of his shifter.”
Mystiq nodded. “Fine then. We’ll take him to the Forge and invoke the belvazar qi’melei. First, of course, those other details will have to be taken care of. The waters must be free of energies that might conflict with his healing, and be in a restful state.
I nearly groaned. I hadn’t thought the swamp would see a restful state today, more like a constant state of flux. We had to get rid of Vivie, find and expel the “evil” Faethat had been lurking. And then Peter and his people, or folk, were supposed to come through the leylines into the Forge.
“What is it, Jack?” asked Tempe, understanding me so well.
I looked at the women. All held hopeful expressions. Dylan was important to each of them, even Jordie as a new member of the Paramortal family and… she still didn’t know.
I closed my eyes, ignoring any thoughts of that pending task. I needed time, to get this other mess cleared up. Get through tomorrow… to moonrise. Please, help us make it to moonrise, I sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Jordie’s worried voice snapped me out of my fugue. I rubbed my eyes. I’d managed to turn the hope in their eyes into worry.
“Nothing is wrong, just working out the details.” I faced Mystiq and the others. “We have a scheduling conflict with the Forge, but we’ll work it out. Once we get Vivie relocated we’ll have a window for you to do your ritual or healing or whatever you call it.”
Mystiq asked, “Who’s Vivie?”
Montana said, “That’s our affectionate name—depending on how that turns out—for the Vouivre, who’s been stranded in the Storm Lake tributaries.”
“She’s in the Forge,” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder towards the big window.
“I’ve heard of them,” Mystiq said and she seemed concerned. “She might be amenable to being moved, but beware of her carbuncle.” Seeing my confused expression, she explained. “Le Vouivre is a four elemental dragon whose power is restored and projected through the large gem on her forehead that serves as an eye. She will not be dangerous unless you even accidentally come in contact with that carbuncle.”
“So, if she’s a dragon, why can’t she fly herself home?” I asked, edgy frustration in my voice.
Phoebe said, “Jack, not all dragons fly. As a matter of fact many are earth and water bound. Now, I suggest we
move this along. Do we have a means of communicating with her?”
How did this woman manage to exude authority? Earlier she’d acted as if she’d hand-selected me to lead the charge. Well, whatever. I could use all the experienced help I could get.
“Actually, Freddie has been communicating with her,” I said. “And he showed up this morning with a bunch of animals before dawn as well. They wanted me to know they’d um, be there, for us if we need them.”
“Our Freddie talks to animals?” Tempe asked with eyes wide.
“The handyman?” Aurora’s face held surprised humor as well. I was glad to see their energy returning.
“Aurora, how soon do you think you and Tempe will be back to normal?” Montana asked.
Aurora said, “We’re gaining strength rapidly but we won’t have our full capabilities until moonrise.” Everyone looked at Tempe as she lifted her hand and tried to call up a spark of electricity. She shrugged. “Nothing yet.”
I smiled at her and tried not to show my disappointment. “It’ll come, Sweetheart. Keep trying. Or, maybe you should save it up and try again in an hour.” I straightened and put my hat on. “At least we have Conor, and a friend of mine from Larue, Ridge Romano, is bringing some Special Forces. I’ll explain later.” I turned to Montana. “Let’s move.”
Chapter 15
Montana
Trying to get rid of the witnesses?
Jack opened the front door and froze mid-stride at the threshold. Georgeanne stood there, hand poised to knock, her bright green eyes wide with, I knew, practiced surprise. Had she been listening? “What do you want?” Jack said, in more of a threat than a question.
At Jack’s defensive tone, my eyebrows arched and I gave Jack’s ex another look. My Dinnshencha rose within me, a welcome relief, and I wanted to push Jack out of the way and take care of the bitch. I’d heard the stories of her neglect of little Jordie, her lies and manipulation of her husband. According to Jordie, the judge had agreed and annulled her parents’ marriage after thirteen years of abuse and neglect. For me, abusers were the other white meat.
Georgeanne took one look at me and didn’t even attempt to play the maligned spouse. “Where’s Jordie? I want to see her.”
“Mom…” Jordie’s voice came from behind us and Jack stiffened. A smile spread across the lower half of Georgeanne’s face, but never made it to her eyes.
“Jordie, baby. I came to see if you want to spend the day with me.”
My inability to react nearly made me puke. Surely, Jordie could see through the reptile-eyed female’s façade. Jordie’d been fairly vocal about her lack of respect for her mother, until today.
“Daddy…”
“You’re not going anywhere with her.” He put his arm out, a barrier between Jordie and the blonde. “I have some questions for you, Georgeanne.”
Jordie spun around. “Daddy, that’s not fair. Mom told me how you twisted her words, and how you and granddad have kept her away from me.”
Jack’s head jerked toward Georgeanne so fast, I thought he was going to jump her. The signs were there, his clenched fists against his thighs and the sound of his jaw popping as he held himself in check. Obvious to me, but not to Jordie. His eyes had gone the color of sea ice—pale and cold. “Is that right?” His lip curled as he said in a voice, deadly soft, “Get back to Tempe, Jordie. We’ll talk about this later. Right now I have some questions for your…mother.”
Jack’s tone held so much restrained menace that even I nearly took a step back, but for the first time since I’d known her, Jordie reacted like an immature teenager who wasn’t getting her way, throwing her hands in the air and flouncing off with a heavy sigh.
Jack spoke to me without taking his eyes from the ex. “Go on down, Montana. I’ll be there as soon as Georgeanne and I have a little chat.”
He smiled, and I wondered if he was just trying to get rid of the witnesses…
“If you’re sure.” I didn’t know what it was about the big busted sleazy looking blonde, but I’d bet my sword her motivation toward Jordie was not sincere. I wanted to stay and make sure Jack didn’t mess this up, but he surprised me once again, his eyes still on the woman in front of him.
“I’d love to give you leave to do your thing, Montana, but I have some important questions I need answers to before that can happen, answers that affect Jordie.”
Woo yeah! Jack was as much as giving me permission to act once he got his answers. I hoped I got another shot at Georgeanne after my Dinnshencha returned, before Jack strangled her with his bare hands.
I nodded and moved past Jack, bumping the ex off the front step so she stumbled backward. As I walked around the side of the house I saw Jack pull the door shut behind him and step onto the porch.
Jack
I wasn’t sure I was bluffing, or if she’d ever had Botox
I was seething, needing to go after Georgeanne like some Neanderthal—the hate and frustration and impotence of dealing with her over the years culminating in this overwhelming desire to pound her into the ground, to strangle her last breath out of her. No, that would be too easy for her and much too unsatisfactory for me.
I’d rather stand by and watch one of the creatures I’d recently met eat her alive from the toes up while she screamed for mercy. A nerve jumped in my cheek and I barely kept my feet on the porch as she got up and stomped toward me. I drew my gun, reacting on instinct. “Stop, right there.”
Finally, she responded, surprise showing on her face. “You’re going to shoot me, Lang?”
Her voice rose as she tried to gain the attention of those inside, but I knew the house was nearly soundproof. No one would hear our conversation. For that matter, “No one would care if I shot you right now, Georgeanne, and I know the perfect place to throw your Botox inflated body.” I wasn’t entirely sure I was bluffing, or if she’d ever had Botox.
Some urge had taken over me and I didn’t know if I’d just finally had enough, or if I was being affected by the full moon. I knew from experience the effects full moon could have on the psychologically unstable. No question. Lately, I qualified. Had she done that to me? The answer didn’t matter. I’d use it to get what I needed, for Jordie’s sake.
“I want answers.”
Her lying innocent eyes widened, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
My voice came from behind a clenched jaw. “Georgeanne…don’t screw with me. You’ve been hiding your true nature from us as long as I’ve known you—Jordie’s whole life. Now, I want to know your background, the truth about who your parents were.” I couldn’t believe I didn’t know. “What have you been keeping from us?”
Georgeanne’s sly smile was her only answer before she attacked. I was almost caught by surprise, and not much surprised me about Georgeanne anymore. Her clawing fingernails narrowly missed my eyes but I caught her wrists and managed to trap her in my arms. My gun dropped onto the grass.
“Hold it, Mrs. Lang,” came Ryan’s voice from behind us on the driveway. Ryan moved quickly to my side seeing she was more than a handful, and cuffed one of her hands while I held her.
I didn’t remember her being this strong. We’d tussled a few times during our marriage, usually after I’d found she’d done something to put Jordie in danger, but she was nearly equal to me in strength. I tried one last time. “You can leave on your own if you just tell me what I want to know. What kind of animal or beast is buried in your background?” I met Ryan’s raised brows over her shoulder. “What family trait have you been hiding?”
Georgeanne cackled, her eyes brightening with that crazy light. She spit at me and started to fight again like a caged animal. If Ryan hadn’t had one cuff on her I wasn’t sure I’d have been able to hold her. He cuffed her other wrist and together we got her into the back of Ryan’s cruiser.
“Want me to take her to jail?” Ryan asked, a gleam in his eyes. “Or…I could lose her somewhere. How about that sinkhole near the levee in Concordia Parish?”
&nbs
p; I swiped my hand over my face and eyed Georgeanne. “You hear my wingman, G? He knows our history. You should know all I have to do is say the word.”
I may not know what she was hiding, what evil had sponsored her, but she knew me. Her mean smile confirmed it. “Get her out of my sight, Ryan. Take her to Fritz’s, then let her go.” At her look of surprise, I said, “Yeah, word gets around. Did you think I’d care? Don’t come back, Georgeanne, or I won’t be responsible for what happens.”
Ryan shoved her none too gently into the backseat then drove toward the levee and the small line of shacks by the Wasted Turtle, the less than reputable bar Fritz frequented, and where River had been kidnapped a few weeks ago.
I rounded the corner of the house and walked toward the swamp where Conor, Montana and Freddie stood on the bank. Had they made contact?
I was going to join them, but first there was something I had to do. I looked down at the long strand of blonde hair in my left hand. Under the nails of my right was a chunk of blood and skin. I enjoyed a satisfied feeling. I had Georgeanne’s DNA.
Chapter 16
Jack
“Who’s dead?” I could only hope…
The idea had come to me as soon as I found out Jordie was a Paramortal. Would the medical examiner see anything weird about her blood? Maybe not since it was during the power down. I knew I had bigger priorities than to satisfy my curiosity about Georgeanne’s family tree, but this… was like a sign. The means to have her checked out had fallen into my lap, or under my fingernails. I called the ME, grabbed the evidence kit from my vehicle and went back inside to find Jordie. She and Tempe were having a tête-à-tête, sharing some secret. Probably talking about me. My heart lurched at her easy laughter with Tempe.
“Jordie,” I called. She looked up and like flipping the switch to off, the attitude returned. Still irritated with me. I could see it in the set of her shoulders, and in her squinty eyed gaze so like my own.
