A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)

by S. M. Blooding

  But Leslie wasn’t just a sister and Mandy wasn’t just a niece. Not to him. Leslie was his best friend and Mandy was a daughter he knew better than any other teenaged girl on the planet. He’d lay down his life for her. He’d do anything for her.

  That’s what it meant to be a parent, something she’d forgotten in the last five years while living the life of a bachelor with complete control of the remote.

  That was the dose of reality she’d needed.

  Paige shook herself and held out the objects. A scarf and a headband. Headband. How many women actually wore those? Owned? Sure. Wore?

  She didn’t care. She couldn’t. If Tru had picked these, they were good enough. Had to be. She had to do this. But for Leah?

  She didn’t have anything for Leah.

  It didn’t matter. She was the connection to Leah.

  Swallowing, Paige reached inside herself and called to the water. Water flowed through the earth. It carved the earth. It had the power to reach into places it should not. There was no hiding from water. Well, there was. But they didn’t live on a submarine.

  Air was next. It made sense. It wasn’t a part of the spell. But what was a spell? A contraption to keep the mind and the will focused on the task. What did she want to accomplish?

  Find her sister, her niece, and her daughter.

  Well, and the shapeshifters being held against their will.

  How best to do that?

  A lot of witches used water, but air was faster when pushed by wind, and it, too, could get into just about any space. So, she called on it. It whispered to her. Normally, it giggled, but tonight, it did not. It growled, eager and waiting to be released.

  She raised the scarf and the headband.

  She didn’t have anything of the shapeshifters.

  I do. Cawli reached up and touched the elements with his soul.

  The element seemed to catch it, but didn’t leave. Not yet. Paige didn’t get a word. Not a feeling either. But there was a ping of almost curiosity as if the air asked, “Another?”

  Yes. There was. She reached into her heart and tugged on the strings that wouldn’t allow Paige to forget her daughter even when there were no memories to remind her. She tugged on the ache of her arms, the feeling in her heart when Leah smiled. Then she touched on the door of her soul, a similar door to the one Leah had to use in order to pull souls out of Heaven. Probably Hell. Though, she didn’t know that.

  Enough?

  The air danced in front of her witch eyes and then darted out of the room.

  “Director Whiskey,” Gomez called from the hallway.

  “Did it work?” Tru demanded.

  “It’s working,” Paige said, blinking her witch vision away and returning to regular sight without shifting into shifter vision. She didn’t need Dexx overreacting and turning. Though, it hadn’t slipped her notice that his claws had come out and nothing else had. “We just have to give it time.”

  “What time?” Tru asked. “My wife could be killed at any moment. That madman could decide to murder my daughter now instead of waiting. For that matter, he could touch her, do worse things to her.”

  Yes. Yes, he could. Paige sent a tendril of will towards the elements, begging them to hurry.

  “You should have stayed gone,” Tru hissed and paced back to the door.

  Gomez frowned at him. “Director, I have information.”

  Paige stared at the empty space where Tru had been. She’d only ever seen him as a carefree, silly man with a great, sarcastic wit. She turned her attention back to Gomez, her mind scrambling. What had she been tasked with?

  Gomez had been in the back yard as a tree, communicating to her grove. Right. “Is it something we can use?”

  “Yes. We’ve pinpointed the location of your family down to a one block radius.”

  “How?” Tru demanded, re-entering the room. “How?”

  “Scent,” Paige said, barely recalling. How stupid did she become when emotion overrode her? “Gomez, get with King. She has the locations Parris and Ethel were able to narrow their search down to. Let’s see if one of those locations falls within your block.”

  King pushed past Tru to get to the map, her phone in hand.

  “How?” Tru asked Gomez.

  She looked around uncomfortably. “I entered the grove’s mind and uploaded, I guess, the scent I picked up from the crime scene. The other members of my grove went looking.”

  Dryads were mildly amazing. “Were your informants able to pick out any other scents? Other people?” Could they tell if they were still alive? Dead? Hurt? How many captors? How many guns?

  Were the captive shifters close?

  “Once the scent was found,” Gomez said, her expression open and honest and sincere, “many of the grove joined. Together, they were able to surround the place and gather much information.”

  “Like?”

  “They are still working on it, but we have a scent—”

  “Grove?” Tru asked with a confused frown.

  “They’re dryads, Tru,” Paige snapped. “Scent. Other people? Blood?”

  “Blood, yes,” Gomez said. “Male blood. And fresh.”

  “How can you tell male blood?”

  Gomez smiled. “Trust me. We’re dryads. We know the smell of male blood. The only female blood we picked up was your sister’s. She still bleeds from her birth, so she was easy to find.”

  Well, one down.

  “We smell fear, but no death.”

  Paige released a breath of relief. “How is the grove when it comes to fighting?”

  “In tree form? Formidable. In human? I think some know which side of the gun to hold.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that,” Dexx said, a dark look on his face.

  “No,” Gomez agreed. “However, I can give the word, they will root close by and be ready.”

  Paige had never fought with trees on their side before. This would be interesting. “What kind of protections have the Galsborys set in place?”

  “That,” Gomez said, a frown on her face. “We’re having a hard time pinpointing the exact location, so we can’t tell.”

  How was it they could smell them and not pinpoint the address?

  Many reasons. She needed to chill.

  King looked up. “We have an address.”

  Finally. One of the lines they’d cast provided results. “Excellent.” Now, for a plan.

  “Gomez and I should free your family,” King said. “While you focus on the shifters.”

  “I’ll go with them,” Dexx said.

  Paige wanted to ensure the safety of her family first. She didn’t know what the Galsborys had planned. Did they have explosives? Guns? How many? How many others had joined their cause?

  Rachel?

  Merry?

  If Merry was there, were there other witches?

  If Rachel was there, were there angels?

  Where the hell was Roxxie? Why hadn’t she shown up yet?

  Maybe because she was a frelling angel who might have other, more pressing business to attend to.

  Gomez nodded. “That’s a good plan. While you’re ‘killing’ shifters, we’ll be rescuing your family.”

  “Killing?” Chuck asked.

  Paige shook her head to cut him off.

  “I’m going with you,” Tru said.

  “No.” Paige’s tone was firm. “You’re needed here. To protect your sons. And mine.”

  Tru’s blue eyes blazed.

  “I’ll stay with him,” Wrick offered. “I may not be great with magical stuff, but if you need anything on the internet, between Parris, Ethel, and I, we’ve got your back.”

  Parris said something muffled from the hallway.

  “I will join you in retrieving my pack,” Chuck said quietly.

  Between the regional alpha and Paige, they should be good.

  Should.

  Gomez, King, and Dexx left in Jackie.

  Paige and Chuck waited for the call.

&nbs
p; Was there any way to revise her spell? Any way to send out a message to the elements, to let them know she knew where her family was, that she needed the location of the shifters? She wasn’t a proper spell witch. She used elements. Maybe that’s the reason Cawli decided to merge with her.

  “They will retrieve your family,” Chuck said quietly.

  Paige stared down at her phone. Blank. Still. “Yeah. We’ll save your pack.”

  “What were you saying about killing them?”

  “Just an idea I had. Not really killing them.” Her mind was just so thick with emotions; fear, anxiety, a severe case of pissed-the-fuck-off. She needed to think.

  “Mmm?”

  Had she drifted off? Again? She glanced at him, barely seeing him through the haze of her emotion. “Just making it look like I did. But I don’t know how to do that. Grandma would. She’d know some herb or something that would just knock them out and we could shoot them once and they’d fall into a sleep or something.” But that was Alma who could do that. What did Paige have? Power? Great. Extremely helpful. “I don’t know. I was just thinking outside the box.”

  Chuck tapped the table. “Why aren’t they shifting?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “They’re still captive, which means they’re still human.” Chuck pulled his head forward. “They’re not shifting.”

  “Mandy had said there was a cross or something that was prohibiting her from using her gift.”

  “She shoots fire, yes?”

  “She’s a Firestarter. Yes. It would stand to reason that if they have something that can suppress witches’ powers, they can suppress a shift.”

  “Magick?”

  Most witches used some sort of spellwork that used tools and herbs. If she knew what those were, she might be able to bring something to counteract it. Well, no. Alma could. “Wolfs bane?”

  Chuck shook his head. “It’s a detractor, but we can overcome it. Even if we inhale it or drink it. We can overcome it.”

  “Hmm. What if it was used in a spell?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Neither did she, really. She’d be a much stronger witch if she did. “In a spell, the compounds of the herb can be magnified.”

  “I don’t know witchcraft.”

  She needed to talk to Cawli, but where was he? What was he doing? Where had he gone? She hadn’t been able to talk to him since she’d reconfigured the ward. She’d thought he was just being quiet…but what if there was something else going on? What if the wards had hurt him somehow? Muffled him? “Chuck.”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you speak to your spirit animal inside this house?”

  He raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat. “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” So, not the wards. Where was he?

  Chuck studied her in the gathering silence.

  She didn’t care. She needed to figure out how to get around whoever might be there holding her family hostage. What might she face? How would she defend herself? How would she free her family? What if the—

  She was going after the shifters. Not her family. Dexx was doing that. She needed to trust that he would succeed.

  But she couldn’t tear herself away from the fact that the person going after them should be her. Her. Not Dexx. Not Gomez. Not a grove of trees. Her.

  That was her sister.

  Her daughter.

  Her niece.

  Pull your head out of your ass, Paige. You’re the one who wants to take the fight to Portland, to the Eastwoods’ fucking front door.

  Sometimes, she was an ass to herself.

  “He has gone quiet?”

  Paige frowned, scrambling to recall what Chuck was talking about. “What?” Then it registered. He was still on the question she’d asked. She was shit deep in a fight or flight response that could get her killed. Calm.

  Fucking calm the fuck down and use that fucking brain of yours.

  She needed to learn how to be nicer to herself, but the ‘pep-talk’ worked. Her heartrate slowed. Her brain re-engaged as the rampaging emotions backed off a bit.

  She licked her lips. She could really use her animal spirit’s assistance in that moment. “Cawli. Yes. He has gone quiet.”

  “Ah.”

  Paige didn’t see an answer coming, so she closed her eyes and concentrated. What did she know?

  Magick was involved. Somehow.

  Shifters. Not shifting.

  What could be repressing them?

  Could be a binding spell of some sort.

  How plausible was that?

  In order to bind each person—the magnitude of a spell like that was too much. They’d need a team of witches to bind every person.

  How likely was it that an army of witches had come to Texas and she hadn’t heard about it?

  Um, that could actually happen. And that was something she was going to have to work on. If they stayed, she’d have to devise a type of ward that would give her warning. If they relocated to Oregon, she’d have to get one in place.

  Thoughts for later.

  Ward?

  What kind of ward could strip away a person’s magick?

  Binding was the only thing that made any sense. But how? How could they bind that many people in such a short amount of time and how could she undo it?

  “That sometimes happens, you know.”

  “Binding?” She opened her eyes. No. He was still stuck on the question she’d asked how many minutes ago? “Oh. Cawli.”

  “Binding?” He frowned at her. “Who?”

  “I was thinking about how whoever is behind this was able to cut off the human from their animal spirit. And the only thing that makes sense is a binding. But it would have to be a binding spell on each person. Individually.”

  “How would that work?”

  “Doll? But a doll for each person. So, if that’s the case, then this was premeditated and the person not only knew who they were going to pick up, but they knew how many. It took a lot of energy.” Or it didn’t. Fuck if she really knew.

  “What if they bound the location?”

  “Like a ward? Wards don’t strip a person’s ability to practice magick.”

  “No. Like what you said. If bindings really are the only thing that makes sense, then why couldn’t they bind the space?”

  She hadn’t thought of that. “Bind the space?”

  “What if they bound the location, the house or whatever they’re using? Would that make sense?”

  “It would.” But then…what would they be looking for? If it was a normal binding spell, she’d be looking for a pile of voodoo-like dolls. But this? She didn’t know.

  “Now, back to Cawli.”

  If he could get to the point quickly, sure. Her mind raced to figure out to this binding location thing might work. He could be onto something and if she was prepared, she could actually save those shifters instead of showing up to get her ass handed to her.

  Per normal.

  “They go quiet from time to time when they’re not needed.”

  Not needed? “I could use Cawli’s help right now.”

  “He doesn’t seem to think so.”

  “He disappeared right after I fixed the wards. Is there any way he disappeared?” He had popped in for the location spell, though.

  “He changed you somehow. Do you feel as though that has disappeared?”

  “No.” There was no way that was happening without her notice. “What he did is still there.”

  “What did he do?”

  Paige stared at the books on the shelves behind Chuck’s head. Was there something in there that might help? “Someone ripped a hole in my soul and opened a gate to Hell inside me. Cawli used his spirit to bind me back together.”

  Chuck’s expression widened in surprise. “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  Paige rummaged through the books in her mind, but came up blank. If she was stumbling through books at a time like this with seconds on the clock, they were lost. No. Sh
e needed to come up with a solution on her own.

  Seconds on the clock, though. Really? The minute hands dragged.

  Which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not really. It gave her a chance to calm down. Rationalize.

  “You do realize they’re going to know you’re coming, right?” Chuck asked. “They’re going to let you right in the front door.”

  In all her worry, she had forgotten that. They were going to let her in the front door because she was supposed to be there to kill the shifters.

  “The only one who has to hide is me. I just have to find a way around their perimeter, if they have one, and slip inside. Then, hopefully, you find a way to disrupt whatever protections they have so I can wolf-out if I need to.”

  “You call it wolf-out?”

  “I was simply trying to lift the mood.” He rubbed his forehead with the tips of his fingers, worry and anger pinching his eyes. “And then we save my shifters.”

  Paige nodded.

  A cool breeze blew past her cheek.

  She looked up, but saw nothing. Switching to witch vision, she saw a little air element warbling in front of her, changing shape like a crazed woman changing clothes before a hot date, only in fast forward. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” Chuck answered.

  “Not you. The air—my spell—” Whatever. “—arrived.”

  “That…sounds weird out loud.”

  She couldn’t disagree.

  The air sent her an emotional ping that felt like confusion.

  “You didn’t find who I sent you to look for?”

  Her answer came with the emotional feeling of blackness. Nothingness. The lack of something. She took that to mean no.

  “Then, why are you confused. Is there something else?”

  The feel of swirling colors, too much information, confusion, chaos filled her mind.

  The water in the bowl in the center of the table trembled. Clarity filled Paige’s mind with a searing color of blinding white. She had a location. She felt it. Where it sat in the city, the feel of the sewer tunnels that ran under it, the stink of the refuse, the rumble of the cars.

  She thanked the water and turned to the air with the feel of location in her mind and touched the map with her charged right hand. A flip of flame coursed down it along her veins, escaping her fingertips like sparklers. They settled on an area and seared the map.