Shadow Hunt

by Melissa F. Olson

  “Why is he shivering?” I cried out. “His lips are blue!”

  “It’s the ice,” Matthias explained, his eyes focused on getting an IV needle into Jesse’s arm. There was curiosity and a little interest in his voice. “It shouldn’t be affecting him so much. When a regular fever breaks, it goes down slowly.”

  When the IV was inserted and taped down, Matthias took an instrument out of his jacket pocket and sort of swiped it across Jesse’s forehead, studying the results. “Ninety-three degrees,” he announced. “Mild hypothermia already. Interesting.”

  I really don’t know why it happened in that particular moment, but suddenly I burst into tears. Great, hiccupping sobs erupted out of me while I stood there. Kirsten and Matthias stared at me in shock, and Matthias, who rarely had a hair out of place, sputtered, “He’s going to live, for Christ’s sake. It’s very mild.”

  But I just kept bawling, and as if that weren’t enough, I suddenly realized that I was about to puke.

  I ran into the bathroom and started heaving, while in the other room I was dimly aware of Molly telling the others that I was still getting over the flu, that I’d had a really hard day with no sleep and not much food. Or something like that. I wasn’t really listening.

  Then Molly was there, in the bathroom, handing me toilet paper to wipe my face and helping me get to the sink, where she gave me a bottle of Listerine. Somehow, even as I rinsed out my mouth, I was still crying.

  “You okay?” she asked quietly. I just shook my head. Molly gave me a sympathetic smile. “Look on the bright side. At least you’re not pregnant.”

  I let out another choked sob, which I think she took as a laugh.

  “Come on,” she said, putting an arm around my waist. I let her steer us back into my bedroom, which was now empty except for Jesse, who had an IV drip in his right arm. Matthias had even set up what looked like an extendable IV tree on the side of the bed. Jesse’s color was a little better, but his lips still had a bluish tint. I could hear low voices in the living room.

  “Matthias said we just have to wait and see about the brain damage,” Molly said softly. She pulled back the covers on the empty side of the bed. “Get in,” she ordered.

  I just looked at her, completely overwhelmed. “I know, you have to find Shadow and face the music with Dashiell, but you can’t do any of that if you can’t stand up,” she said, not unreasonably. “And you need to be with Jesse right now. It’s only a little after midnight. You can sleep for a couple of hours before you go see Dashiell. I’ll call him and buy you some time.”

  She was right, but I still shifted my weight from side to side, looking at Jesse. “I’m afraid,” I whispered.

  “Afraid of hurting him, or afraid to touch him?” Molly asked in an amused voice. I gave her a startled look, and she rolled her eyes at me. “Just get in, Scarlett. God knows he needs the warmth.”

  Guilt lanced through me again, and I crawled onto the bed next to Jesse. “You wanna, you know, take off some of your clothes?” she suggested, but I just shot her a glare. Molly gave me a little have it your way shrug and departed, closing the door behind her.

  Despite all the insane things that were happening around me, I suddenly felt like an awkward teenager. Jesse and I been friends for years. We had once gone out on a date and even kissed a couple of times, but we’d never shared a bed, especially when one of us was nearly naked. Cautiously, I put my hand on his arm. I was still flushed from all the crying and vomiting, and I was startled by how cool his skin felt. It was scary.

  “Jesse?” There was no response. I shook the arm gently, and said a little louder, “Jesse.”

  Nothing.

  Oh, God. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he really had suffered brain damage? I’d come so close to losing him, and I still could.

  Forgetting my awkwardness, I scooted closer to him. He was so cold. I moved his arm and nestled into his chest, pulling the blankets close around us. I tried to think warm thoughts.

  And then, despite the whirlwind of madness that still swirled around us, I drifted to sleep.

  Chapter 16

  Jesse woke up slowly.

  He first became aware of a woman’s body pressed against him in an unfamiliar dark room. The only light came from a crack in the doorway, creating a limited stripe of visibility that just showed him sheets and a cloud of long, dark hair. It was disorienting. Had he had a one-night stand? He hadn’t done anything like that in years. On the other hand, he did feel sort of hungover . . .

  Jesse caught the familiar smell of Scarlett’s shampoo, and felt something sticking out of his right hand, and—wait . . .

  Scarlett was pressed against him? And was he . . . naked? Jesse shifted a little. Okay, almost naked.

  Then it all began to come back to him. Shadow. The twisted slumber.

  He had seen her dead.

  Panic struck him for a second, but he carefully curled his hand to brush the dark hair away from her face. She was deeply asleep, one arm thrown across him, her slow, regular breathing warming the skin on his chest.

  For a long moment, Jesse just lay there, fighting the tears of relief that threatened to overwhelm him. She was alive. She was okay.

  And so was he. The twisted slumber had felt so real while he was in it, but now it had no more power than a bad nightmare. Trying not to move too much, he flexed his right hand and felt the sticky tape and the tube connected to it. An IV. That made sense, if he’d been dehydrated.

  Low voices were coming from the hallway.

  “Matthias checked on them a few minutes ago,” said a familiar voice. Kirsten, the witch leader.

  “What did he say?” This was Molly.

  “Jesse’s recovering well—much faster than he would from normal dehydration, which lends weight to the idea that the hex was boosting the condition. But they’re both still out.” Her voice turned wry. “Matthias said he’s half-wondering if Scarlett should be getting saline fluids as well.”

  “She’ll be fine. She just needs rest.”

  “Yes, well, Dashiell has called three times in the last hour. We’ll have to wake her up soon.”

  “I know.” Molly sounded glum. “Ten more minutes, okay?”

  “Fine.” There was a pause, and then Kirsten added, “You should take a picture first. They’re absolutely adorable in there.”

  Jesse smiled faintly as footsteps moved away down the hall. He gingerly reached over and turned on the bedside lamp, careful not to tangle the IV tubing. The flare of light hurt his eyes, but Scarlett didn’t even stir. He looked down at her arm on his chest and saw that her fingers were curled into the sheet on the other side of him, like she had been afraid he would be taken away while she slept. Despite this, she looked so peaceful.

  “Scarlett,” he whispered. Her arm tightened around him, but she didn’t stir. Jesse kissed her forehead.

  Her eyes fluttered open, her face only inches from his, and he felt her whole body tense. He’d sort of expected her to pull back, but for a long moment she just regarded him with her unnaturally green eyes. When she spoke, her voice was hoarse.

  “Are you brain damaged?”

  Jesse smiled. What a perfectly Scarlett question. “No more than usual.”

  He could feel her body slacken with relief. “Thank God.”

  “Did you change my clothes while I was unconscious?” he asked, mock-angry.

  A small smile lightened her face. “Matthias did it, but I saw the whole show.”

  “And?”

  She shifted so she could push the hair out of her face, but she still didn’t move away. “Hey, man, you can read my Yelp review like everybody else.”

  Jesse grinned, but it faded quickly. “You’re pregnant,” he said.

  She did pull away from him then, a series of complex expressions flickering across her face. Fear. Guilt. Shame. Hope. But all she said was, “How did you know?”

  “Shadow led me to the pregnancy test. In the garbage can.”

  “Oh.
That.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Boulder. To ask Lex’s boss about the baby.”

  Jesse nodded. It made sense. She could have told him, but it didn’t really matter anymore. Although he knew it wasn’t his business, he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “The father?”

  “Jameson.”

  That . . . explained a lot, actually. “Another null.”

  She searched his face. “Aren’t you going to tell me how stupid and slutty I was?” she challenged. “That I was reckless, that I should have known better?”

  His heart wrenched. “Scarlett . . . do you really think I’m going to judge you for a . . . romantic miscalculation?”

  He could tell she was fighting a smile at that, but she said, “The old Jesse would have.”

  He thought that over. He and Scarlett hadn’t spoken for a long time after she’d gotten together with Eli for real. During their time apart, he’d had a brief, ill-advised marriage and a bout of self-loathing and depression. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “But I would have been wrong. Right now, more than anything else, I’m just relieved you’re not going to run back to Las Vegas to be with someone.” He stopped himself before using the word else. He had no right.

  She turned onto her back so they were side by side, not looking at him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. I can’t keep the baby. After we find Shadow, I need to make an appointment.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. They lay there quietly for a few minutes, and then she glanced at him. “Don’t mention the pregnancy to anyone, okay? Even Molly.”

  He wanted to ask about that, but Scarlett abruptly sat up, looking down at herself. Her jeans and tee shirt were wrinkled, and her hair was hanging in big limp tangles. Her face was blotchy, and she looked thinner than ever. “I’m a mess, I probably smell . . .” She started to rake her fingers through her hair, avoiding his eyes.

  “Scarlett.” He reached out with his free hand and caught her hand gently.

  She looked up at him then. “I thought you were gonna die,” she said, her voice cracking. “Because of me.” There was guilt on her face, and he knew she was thinking of Jameson. And probably her parents and her friend Caroline. All three had been killed by Scarlett’s former mentor. Scarlett had come a long way, but he knew she still blamed herself some for that.

  “I didn’t die,” Jesse contended. “And I’m not going to.”

  Her jaw clenched, and she gave him her stubborn glare. “You can’t promise that.”

  “Watch me.”

  Her lower lip trembled, and for a second he was sure she was going to either cry or hit him, or both. Instead, she stood up, wobbled a little, and went over to open the bedroom door. “He’s awake,” she called into the hallway.

  It was a pretty effective way to shut down the conversation.

  Twenty minutes later, Jesse was sitting at Scarlett’s small kitchen table, dressed in the spare outfit from the trunk of his car, which was thankfully still parked at the cottage. The Luparii witches hadn’t bothered to hide it, and since they’d taken his personal cell phone away from him, they hadn’t bothered to search him for a second phone. Jesse didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he hadn’t pocketed the Batphone. He’d been lucky.

  Hayne was sitting on Scarlett’s counter, with Kirsten standing next to his dangling legs. Matthias had checked Jesse’s blood pressure and temperature, given a brief lecture on hydration, and departed. Molly was uncharacteristically quiet, puttering around the kitchen making chicken noodle soup. Scarlett sat at the table, fidgeting with Shadow’s purple leather collar. Jesse, who had been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours, was too hungry to wait for the soup. He munched on handfuls of cereal while he told them all the story about Shadow and the Luparii witches.

  “You’re sure it’s the Luparii?” Kirsten asked him, for the third time.

  “Yeah. Killian and Sabine are their names. They didn’t know I could speak some French.”

  “They used you against Shadow, didn’t they?” Scarlett said.

  Jesse nodded. “She allowed them to take her, to save my life.”

  “Why not just kill you, once they had the bargest?” Hayne asked. Kirsten gave him a look, and he shrugged. “No offense.”

  “None taken; I asked the same thing. I think they were hoping they could search my memory to find out where Scarlett had gone.”

  He told them about being put in the twisted slumber, about Sabine’s taunts.

  “I’ve gotta call Will,” Kirsten said softly. She pulled out her phone and stepped into the hall.

  “Why did they come back?” Molly asked. “Just to take Shadow away?”

  “Shit.” Hayne stood up and began dialing his phone. “Shadow wasn’t the only one they left behind.” He paced toward the back door, already speaking into the phone in a low, urgent voice.

  “Who is he calling?” Molly asked Scarlett and Jesse.

  Then Jesse got it. He closed his eyes, feeling like a fool.

  “He’s calling the women’s prison in Chino,” Scarlett said. She’d put it together too. “That’s where they’re holding the Luparii scout, Petra Corbett.”

  Hayne hung up the phone and turned back to them, looking grim. “Not anymore,” he said heavily. “She broke out three hours ago.”

  PART II

  Chapter 17

  A little over an hour after Jesse woke up, I sat watching as Dashiell stalked back and forth next to the enormous oval table in his atrium, his lips compressed with anger. I opened my mouth to say . . . something . . . but Will gave me a quick little headshake, and I snapped it closed again.

  Earlier that evening, while I was still rushing home from the airport to break the hex on Jesse, Petra Corbett had walked out of the minimum-security area at the California Institution for Women . . . despite the fact that she had been lodged in a higher-security level. According to sources from both Jesse and Dashiell, the prison was currently scrambling to figure out how Petra Corbett had ended up on the completely wrong side of the prison. But it didn’t really matter to us at this point. She was gone.

  Hayne had been the one to call Dashiell, who had immediately summoned us to the mansion. Now Will, Beatrice, and Kirsten were all sitting at one end of the oval table, while Jesse and I had taken the first two seats on the long side. Dashiell was pacing on the opposite long side, and I, for one, was really glad for the minor safety of the table between us. I was expanding my radius just a bit to keep everyone human, but I wasn’t sure if that was helping or fueling Dashiell’s rage.

  The cardinal vampire had been pacing for ten minutes already, and it was nearly five in the morning, which meant we only had about an hour before sunrise. Every minute that went by without him speaking felt like a ratcheting up of tension.

  And yet . . . I felt strangely calm. Seeing Jesse almost die had snapped me out of my pregnancy-news frenzy, forcing me to be present for the current crisis. Shadow, whom I loved, was missing, and we were facing an unspecified threat from some very bad people. I could put the whole abortion thing aside until we found Shadow and stopped the Luparii.

  Shut up. I could.

  “You left town without telling us,” Dashiell finally ground out, though he didn’t bother to slow down or even look at me. Yeah, I think we all knew who he was talking to. “You invaded another cardinal vampire’s territory. You left the bargest with a human. The Luparii, who are back in my city, stole the bargest back and broke Petra Corbett out of prison. And now they’re all loose in my city.” He finally stopped, turning to glower at me, and spat out, “You irresponsible child.”

  Jesse sat up straighter, about to defend me. I reached for his hand under the table and squeezed it to stop him.

  “I made a mistake,” I said to Dashiell. Despite the two-hour nap with Jesse, I was more exhausted than ever. “I’m sorry.”

  “What was so important that you had to run to Colorado without telling anyone?” Kirsten broke in. She seemed more
surprised and curious than anything else.

  “It’s a personal matter,” I said.

  They really didn’t like that. “Your personal matter, or Allison Luther’s?” Kirsten pushed.

  I didn’t answer. Dashiell looked like he was ready to yell again, but Will, who had been fairly quiet thus far, stepped in. “This is getting us nowhere,” he said in his calm voice. Will looked like a lovable sitcom dad, and he was the most chill werewolf I’d ever met. But that only meant he was calm for a werewolf. “I understand there should be consequences for Scarlett’s actions, but I suggest we put a pin in that until Shadow and the Luparii can be found. Agreed?”

  He gave Dashiell a pointed look, and the cardinal vampire probably realized the same thing I did: with the Luparii running around LA, Will and his pack had the most to lose.

  “Agreed,” Kirsten said readily.

  “Fine.” Dashiell didn’t exactly sound gracious, but he’d managed to stay just shy of begrudging.

  “Are we sure they’re even still here?” Kirsten asked. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether or not to be hopeful. “They’ve got Petra and Shadow. They put us in our place. Why not take their toys and go home?”

  “Shadow is not a toy,” I said through gritted teeth. Now Jesse reached over to squeeze my hand. “She’s basically a person.”

  Dashiell let out a little disgusted snort, but didn’t deign to respond to my outburst. “That is possible,” he said to Kirsten. His gaze moved to Jesse. “Mr. Cruz? What was your impression?”

  “Well . . . they definitely wanted to kill Scarlett,” he said, shooting me an apologetic look. “I got the sense that it was a priority.”

  “But what about now?” Will asked. “Would they stick around just to kill her?”

  His phrasing made me bizarrely indignant, but Jesse answered before I could. “I can’t really explain it right, but I got the sense that there was a bigger play happening. It’s something that Sabine was looking forward to. It was like . . .” He paused for a moment, searching for the words. “Like they were working through a list, and Scarlett needed to die before they could move to the next item. Whatever their plan is, I don’t think Scarlett’s supposed to be around for it.”