FoM02 Trammel

by Anah Crow

  They had parked on the lawn and the van was hardly designed for any off-road usage. Lindsay had to grab the seat in front as they bounced across the grass and off the curb with enough speed that something scraped as they hit the road.

  “Guns!” That shriek was Zoey, and the thud from the front was probably her sliding off of her seat and taking cover.

  “Oh, grow up. They’re not shooting at us.” Kristan took a corner so fast that the van groaned with stress, and they were on two wheels for a moment. The next thing Lindsay knew, the van lurched wildly and there was a sickening crunch as something went under the wheels. “Oops.”

  “That’s one way to take them down,” Ylli said tightly.

  Jonas was babbling about the Hounds being able to see them. Noah’s calm voice was a steady counterpoint to it until Jonas trailed off, apparently soothed by the reassurances that Lindsay couldn’t hear over the rumble of the van. Noah seemed to have a nearly infinite amount of patience, even for people who had tried to hurt him—at least once they were disarmed.

  When they were clear of the laboratory campus, Lindsay reached out for Dane. This wasn’t how Lindsay had wanted to bring Dane back to them, with news like that.

  Dane pulled Lindsay in and let him stay close, but it didn’t feel the same. He was staring out the window, hardly reacting when Kristan had to swerve wildly to avoid a fire truck barreling through. Dane didn’t pet him this time, either. Nothing was quite the same. They were together again, but right now it didn’t seem like much consolation to Dane.

  Still, they were both alive.

  Lindsay would have to be content with that for now. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the engine lull him to sleep.

  It took a long time to calm Jonas down to the point that he slept, but Noah remembered a wounded bear that had found its way to his mother—a feral, trapped in its animal form by pain and illness—and the way she had calmed it. Not all ferals were blessed with regeneration the way Jonas and Dane were. At least Jonas’s gift meant Noah hadn’t killed one of his own.

  An old lullaby in Quebecois French settled Jonas down so quickly that Noah had to wonder if the man had roots in the same back country as the Quinns. He was relieved when Jonas closed his eyes and curled up on the seat, and when Jonas’s humming faded away into a soft, intermittent snore. The relief didn’t last long. It was then that he felt the dead tension in the van, the cold silence of shock and horror.

  “We should have brought clothes.” Ylli’s soft voice drifted back over the seats.

  “We’ll stop when it’s safe,” Kristan said. Noah caught the violet flicker of her gaze in the rearview mirror. “Not sure how safe it’s going to be with that thing you have there.”

  “Quiet.” Dane’s voice was low, but his tone was as hard as a fist. “It’s safe enough. Stop whenever you want. Be smart about it. And shut up.”

  Noah looked back to see Lindsay sleeping, almost hidden in Dane’s arms, oblivious to the poisoned sweat and antiseptic reek coming off all three of them who had been in the lab. He turned his attention to the tube still stuck under his skin. The wound where they’d cut him to insert it had barely scabbed over.

  Something larger was under there. If he picked the stitches out, he might be able to remove it.

  It should have hurt more than it did. The dull voice in the back of his head noted that he was probably still in shock. His hands were shaking, but he kept picking at the coarse black knots, pulling off the dried blood and worrying them loose. He had two kinked stitches in his palm and was working on the next when a low hiss broke his concentration.

  “Don’t do that.” Ylli was watching him over the back of the seat. “Damn it. Noah.” He rolled his eyes despairingly as he disappeared from view, except for the curved shadows of his wings. He was back a heartbeat later, reaching over with a handful of napkins. “Here.”

  Noah took them and mopped at the blood that was running down his chest.

  “And here.”

  Noah looked up again to see that Ylli was holding out a jacket that looked like Kristan’s.

  “Cover up and try to sleep,” Ylli said.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  Noah wasn’t tired, but he took the jacket and tucked it over his lap. The touch of a sleeve made Jonas whimper and stir. Noah put a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes. Behind his eyelids, the world was black and full of flames, and he could hear screaming echo in his memory. It wasn’t Elle’s voice, though, so it was nothing but noise.

  “Noah.” For a moment, that soft voice did sound like Elle, but when Noah opened his eyes, it was Lindsay there, looking down at him. “We’ve stopped to pick up some clothes and supplies. Do you need anything?”

  “A drink.” Noah didn’t have to be awake to answer that much. He hadn’t thought he’d fall asleep.

  Jonas snuffled softly, and it took Noah a moment to locate him, down on the floor by his feet. That was probably for the best.

  “I meant something like aspirin.” Lindsay sounded exasperated, but he was smiling, and that was better than medication.

  “I’m fine.” Noah let his hand sneak out to touch Lindsay’s. “I should be doing this.”

  “I don’t plan to share your nakedness with any more people than I already have.” Lindsay took his hand and squeezed it. “Dane and Ylli will be staying with you, Zoey doesn’t want to be left alone with naked men, and I need Kristan to help me with sizes.”

  “Okay. Are we hidden?” Noah was desperate to stretch his legs and—now that he thought of it—he was just as eager to take a piss.

  “Yes. We won’t be long.” Lindsay squeezed his hand one more time and ducked out of the van.

  Noah nudged Jonas with his foot. “Come on. You have to stay with me.” He wasn’t letting Jonas out of his sight.

  Jonas was surprisingly competent, for all that he was obviously impaired. Noah had rescued him on principle, but he was starting to see that Jonas really had been—if only recently—Moore’s victim in all of

  this. He shooed Jonas out of the bushes behind the sprawling, gray megastore and back toward the van.

  Jonas kept switching between all fours and walking upright, depending on what caught his eye, but he stayed close until he caught sight of a squirrel and stopped.

  “Are you hungry?” Noah watched Jonas gauging the distance between them and the oblivious squirrel. He expected Jonas to pounce, but Jonas looked back at him instead.

  “Yes. I can have it?”

  Well, that was good. Noah didn’t want to worry about Jonas deciding to eat something inviting, like Ylli. And there was no telling the diseases he’d pick up if he were allowed to eat wild animals while his feral magic was broken by his collar.

  “No, you’re going to eat like the rest of us.”

  Jonas’s shoulders slumped and he grumbled the rest of the way back to the van. Dane, sitting in the open doorway, snorted at the sight of him.

  “Let me guess. No squirrel.”

  “Exactly.” Noah was briefly surprised at that, then realized he shouldn’t be.

  “I don’t blame him.” Dane dropped the pieces of the leaf he’d been shredding and rubbed the green stain off of his hands. “There’s some fat ones around here. Better than fast food.”

  From anyone else, it would have been a joke. From Dane, it made sense.

  “I don’t think Zoey would survive naked men and eating raw squirrels in one day.” Noah looked around. “Where’s Ylli?”

  “Getting oil for the van.” Dane pointed to the gas station. “Apparently, we’re a troop of boy scouts today. To other people, that is.”

  “Let no one say Lindsay doesn’t have a sense of humor.” Noah couldn’t help smiling at that. He sat in the doorway of the van next to Dane, ignoring the grit and rough carpet chafing his ass. Damn new skin.

  “Get back here!”

  Noah’s head came up when Dane snapped. Jonas was skulking toward a gull picking at an empty burger wrapper.

  Jonas just
sneered at Dane and shook his head before going back to stalking the bird.

  “Jonas,” Noah said. “No.” That would definitely make Jonas sick, and Noah was not having a man half again his size puking raw seagull on him all the way back to Detroit.

  Jonas dropped to all fours and came back to crouch at Noah’s feet. He did take the time to peer over Noah’s knees and growl at Dane.

  “Damn dog.” Dane shook his head. “Moore can’t let a single thing stay good if she can ruin it.”

  The dog. Something clicked in Noah’s head. And the girl. Lourdes, the girl. Jonas, the dog. They were vague figures in the sprawling milieu of magical beings, but Noah knew what there was to know of their reputations.

  “Why did you let me rescue him?”

  “To piss Moore off.” Dane shrugged and bared his teeth at Jonas.

  “Right.” Noah put a hand on Jonas’s head and shoved until Jonas couldn’t see Dane anymore.

  “Can you think of a better reason?” Dane gave him an arch look.

  Compassion. Logic. Kinship.

  “Not really.” It was a small victory, but Noah would take it. And he’d take the warm, languid day that nature had conjured up to soothe his pains.

  Jonas was suspiciously quiet. Noah had raised too many of his siblings and cousins to let that slide, even though the hot sun and the last of the drugs were making it hard to find the energy to care. There was only one thing he could think of that would be keeping Jonas busy right now.

  “Jonas, don’t eat dirt.”

  “Not.”

  “What...” Noah gave in and moved to see what Jonas was doing.

  “Ants,” Dane said, chuckling. “Full of protein. Jonas, share.” He reached around Noah and held out his hand.

  “Nu-uh.”

  “See, this is why we don’t get along.” Dane gave Noah a wounded look.

  “Well, at least one of us isn’t hungry anymore.”

  Noah let his head rest against the van door, and leaned back, closing his eyes and turning his face into the sun. He and Dane were worse for wear, and Dane and Jonas were still trapped in their collars, but that wouldn’t last. They had lost Cyrus, but they were stronger than ever, more focused, and—most importantly—together.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Lindsay had never bothered to give the basement of the house in Detroit more than a cursory inspection, but apparently Noah and Kristan had paid more attention, because that was the first place both of them had suggested to work the magic required to take the collars off Jonas and Dane. It wasn’t roughed in; the floor was packed dirt and the walls were bare cement. Once he was down there, he realized that the earth would draw off excess magic that might be released when the collars came off, the way the cave had done when Ezqel fixed Lindsay’s magic, and Dane’s.

  Dane, Noah, Ylli, Kristan and Jonas were already down there, preparing for the first attempt. When Zoey had said she needed to double-check her computer for data she’d gathered from the lab, Lindsay had followed her upstairs.

  “They’re not regular technology,” he cautioned as they came back down. “Those figures are runes, you don’t want to mess with the magic in the collar if you can help it.”

  “The computers at the lab had schematics.” Zoey turned her little computer toward Lindsay to show him. “Are those the runes you’re talking about?”

  “There and there,” Lindsay said, pointing. “That’s what she’s using to suppress their magic. The runes can be broken, but...”

  Lindsay trailed off, shaking his head. He didn’t want to hurt Dane like that. In his experience, the runes breaking released magical energy that was inevitably dangerous.

  “You don’t want to do it that way. Not if we can help it. If you can’t get the tech to release, don’t try the runes. I’ll do it. I’ve done it before.”

  The voices grew louder as they came down the stairs. Noah and Dane.

  “Look, if you want to take your chances with something, I’ve got a whole drawer of lighters you can play with.” That was Noah, and he didn’t sound happy. “I’ll even throw in a gas can and some candles. But you can wait until we know how these come off. You’re not going to use this as some fancy self-flagellation.”

  “I’m not sitting around like a side of beef while you give your puppy back his big dog teeth. I know what I’m doing.” Dane’s voice lacked its usual growl, but Lindsay didn’t need that to know when he was upset.

  “He’s not mine,” Noah snapped.

  Dane laughed outright at that. “He’s yours as much as he’s ever been anyone’s.”

  As Lindsay came down a few more steps, he caught sight of Jonas growling at Dane—from behind Noah’s knees.

  “You know what you’re doing, Dane,” Lindsay said, “but Zoey hasn’t done this before.” He didn’t like the idea of using Dane as a guinea pig.

  “Yes, that.” Noah glared at Dane before turning his attention to Zoey. “Do you need anything like wires or tools?”

  “I don’t really know magic or technology,” Zoey admitted with a little shrug. “I just kind of...talk to the computers and stuff, and they talk back to me. I’m starting with him, right?” She moved toward Jonas.

  She was a lot less skittish now that they all had clothes on.

  “Come here.” Noah walked to the center of the basement, beckoning for Jonas to follow. “And stand up.”

  Jonas eyed Lindsay suspiciously as he obeyed. Lindsay stayed back, but he watched Jonas just as warily. He didn’t want to see Zoey hurt by Jonas or the collar.

  Zoey stepped in to look at the collar, muttering quietly. To herself, Lindsay thought, and not to the collar. Not yet. It seemed like she was still feeling it out, comparing it to the schematics on her computer screen.

  “Don’t touch.” Jonas put his hand in front of her face. “Only Mother can touch.”

  “He’s not right in the head,” Dane muttered. “He was missing a good chunk of it, and his hands and feet, for a while. The girl talked Moore into turning off the collar to let him heal, and mine too. It didn’t help his mind.”

  Lindsay hardly heard Noah soothing Jonas. His mind seized on Dane’s admission that Lourdes had helped them. She had brought him information—he remembered the apprehension he’d felt as she spoke to him and knew now that not all of it had been his. She’d been afraid, and yet she hadn’t betrayed him to Moore. She’d betrayed Moore to her face by helping Dane.

  In her strange way, she had tried to comfort him, more than once. Maybe she kept reassuring him that he would find Dane because of her connection to Jonas. It was hard to imagine Lourdes as human, but if she cared for Jonas the way he cared for Dane, he had something to use against her. Jonas was theirs now.

  “It’s okay, Jonas,” Noah said patiently, still trying to get Jonas to put his hand down so Zoey could get closer. “She’s going to help. She’s allowed. Put your hand down.”

  Lindsay had no idea what they were going to do with Jonas. Healing magic rarely affected the mind, and watching Noah had shown him just how ready the mind had to be for it to work. Noah was—not different, but whole, since Rajan healed him. If Jonas’s magic couldn’t affect his mind, they were stuck with a dangerous, barely functional mage who seemed bonded to Noah—making him Lindsay’s, and

  Dane’s, whether they liked it or not.

  If Jonas was whole again, would he leave Noah? Lindsay could see flickers of intelligence and comprehension in his eyes. Jonas wasn’t all there, but he wasn’t lost, either. Given the dedication with which Jonas and Dane had tried to kill each other, Lindsay didn’t think Jonas would be leaving Noah any time soon. Magic and will could form intense bonds.

  “If he doesn’t let me see it, I can’t convince it to turn off.” Zoey took a step back.

  “It’s fine.” Noah slowly pushed Jonas’s hand down by his side. “It won’t hurt you if Zoey touches it.

  See?” He reached out to touch the collar himself.

  Even collared, Jonas was incredibly strong. A
single swipe of his arm took Noah off his feet and sent him crashing into the utility shelves.

  “She knows!” Jonas went bounding in the opposite direction and wedged himself between a broken chest freezer and the far wall. “She will know! No touching!”

  As soon as he was sure Jonas wasn’t going to attack anyone else, Lindsay ran over to Noah. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” Noah struggled to his feet, glaring at Jonas. “He’s probably right, in his own fucking batshit way. She may be able to track things through those collars. I wrecked everything I could, but...we really need to get them off, or turned off.”

  “So, can we all agree I get to go first?” Dane snorted with annoyance.

  Lindsay didn’t like it, but there was no way they were going to take Jonas’s collar off right now, not while the man was huddled in the corner, muttering to himself.

  “Be careful.” He stepped out of the way as Zoey turned toward Dane.

  She seemed more nervous now than she’d been before, but Jonas’s tantrum might have had something to do with that. Dane had to bend so she could see his collar clearly, and she started whispering to it, sweet, soft words that Lindsay couldn’t quite make out.

  In spite of his trip across the basement, as soon as Noah was back on his feet, he made his way over to Jonas and started to calm him down and coax him out. He had some kind of natural charm to him; maybe it was his looks, but Lindsay wasn’t sure those worked on Jonas. Whatever it was, it convinced Jonas to wriggle out from behind the freezer. That thought was so surreal, Lindsay felt like the entire universe had tilted in the last few days.

  Zoey seemed to be getting somewhere with Dane’s collar. The LEDs that dotted the circumference of it were flickering to life, one at a time. Lindsay hoped that didn’t mean the thing was about to explode.

  As the last few lights came on, Lindsay tensed, ready to...something. He didn’t know what.

  Once the final light turned red, though, the whole thing simply went dark. It fell from Dane’s neck with a clatter. Gone. Just like that. Cyrus had been right about Zoey’s value. They were in this because of her, but Lindsay could almost convince himself that she had been worth it.