Crossroads Burning

by Nash, Layla

  I should have gathered more evidence before I made a decision—figured out if he could stay in Rattler’s Run or at least visit occasionally, what it meant to be a druid, why his magic was green. Paralysis by analysis, Lucia called it. Just another way of not making a tough choice. Sometimes not choosing was a choice.

  But I definitely wanted to choose him.

  So I leaned forward to kiss him again before saying, “Come upstairs, but take your shoes off. The fourth stair squeaks unless you step on the right side only.”

  Lincoln chuckled again and kissed me back. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  He left his shoes by the door, along with his jacket and the bag of bottles, and tiptoed up the stairs behind me. The whiskey made me want to giggle hysterically as we went, for no other reason than I couldn’t remember the last time I’d tried sneaking a boy into my room. Even as a grown-ass adult, it felt completely wrong to march a man past my sisters’ rooms to shuffle into mine. We’d always been smart enough to take our assignations elsewhere than the family home, since it was damn hard to hide anything in a house full of witches and nosy aunts and over-protective sisters.

  Still, though, it was nice to roll into bed with Lincoln, all heady with whiskey and a bit of danger, and kiss and whisper until we both drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 47

  The relaxation and general snuggliness didn’t last long. As soon as sleep grabbed me, something else did as well—and not in a fun way. It wrenched me away and then I found myself in the cave once more, breathing hard and shivering with cold. It wasn’t supposed to be cold in dreams, but I wasn’t foolish enough to think it was just a dream.

  A woman in old-timey clothes stood there, and for a disorienting second, I thought it might have been Olivia playing a prank on me. But she turned and it was the ghost ancestor from before, though more corporeal. I inclined my head in deference, knowing she was powerful, even though I had no idea who she was. “Grandmother. Why have you brought me here?”

  “You’ve unleashed trouble you do not understand,” she said, tone harsh. Something about her dark hair reminded me of someone else, although I couldn’t place her features. The skirts swished and swirled as she started to pace, her fists clenched. “And I am bound. I cannot explain it to you, else I would fix things myself.”

  “You’re bound not to tell me something?” My throat went dry, even in my dreams. “Who bound you?”

  She turned and frowned at me. “I cannot reveal that either. You are in danger, girl, as are all of our blood. You must look at the curse.”

  “The werewolf curse?” I somehow managed to pull out the book, the thin little compilation of mysteries and debts, and held it up between us. “This one here?”

  The woman reached for it but stopped short, her expression pained. “I had long thought that I would... Never mind. Do not ignore the signs. Listen to those who know but do not trust... Do not trust anyone new in your life. Danger can wear many disguises, even inconspicuous ones.”

  I gripped the book until the leather covers bent. “Please, you have to tell me more. Is it the druid? The one I brought to the cave?”

  “You brought what to this cave?” Her already pale face turned completely bloodless. “What were you thinking?”

  “He came here searching for the werewolves,” I said. I retreated a step. Mother help me if Lincoln had actually done something without my knowledge when he touched the stalactite. “He helped me after a werewolf bit me.”

  “You’ve been bitten?” She lurched forward and gripped my arm with talon-like fingers, her skin cold and icy, and pain lanced up to my shoulder. “Where? How many? What did they look like?”

  I dangled at the end of her grip, stunned and overwhelmed with the power she exuded, even as a ghost. “I killed it. It looked like a dire wolf but bigger. Gray. Black streaks around its eyes. It didn’t even turn back to human when I killed it. Some of them did, later, but not that one.”

  The woman’s dark hair pulled free of the severe braid she wore, and she patted at it furiously when she released me. “You killed one, then others. How many were there?”

  At least she could ask questions. Maybe I could get her to ask enough that it would help me decipher what she couldn’t tell me. “At least eleven, maybe more. We don’t know where they’re coming from or how many total are running around, and we don’t have any leads on dealing with them.”

  Her mouth turned down at the corners. “You don’t know where they’re coming from. Certainly not. What makes werewolves, girl?”

  “A curse,” I said. I held up the book once more. “From here. Someone is cursed. He turns into a werewolf. Then he bites others and they become werewolves. Right?”

  “Close.” Her gaze drifted to a spot on the cave wall behind me, and she wrung her hands for a while before clearing her throat and adding, “Why do you suppose anyone would use that curse?”

  I frowned, my arm dropping to my side as the book grew heavier than I thought possible for such a slim volume. “I don’t know. They’re an asshole?”

  She definitely wasn’t amused. I almost expected her to pull out a ruler and smack it across my hands. “What does a witch or sorcerer or druid gain from casting such a curse?”

  “I don’t know.” I put the book in my pocket once more and raked my hair back from my face. It was the most realistic damn dream I’d ever had. “You’d end up with a wild beast in front of you who was smart enough to want to bite you, and the strength to probably do it. And if that beast bit you, wouldn’t you turn into one of the werewolves who was more wolf than human?”

  Her lips pursed but I got the sense she was pleased. “Think on that, daughter. Think on that.”

  Her shape started to fade and I reached for her. “Wait. Please. We can’t…we can’t do this on our own. We need help.”

  “You’ll have help,” she said. “But it will not be us.”

  Before I could do more than draw breath, she disappeared. I turned in a circle and the world dissolved, dropping me back into bed like I’d plunged through the skin of ice on a pond and straight through into the water. I sucked in a breath and sat up, flailing.

  An arm tightened across my middle and Lincoln lifted his head, half-asleep but still concerned. “Luckett, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  Sweat broke out all over me as the cold disappeared into a clammy, clinging panic. My heart pounded against my ribs and I lifted a trembling hand to touch my face. “I don’t…it was a dream but it felt…it felt so real.”

  He blinked a few times and rested his forehead against my shoulder as he stroked my stomach and side. “Deep breaths, babe. What did you dream about?”

  “The…the cave,” I whispered. I started to go on when one of the woman’s warnings floated back to the front of my mind. Do not trust anyone new in your life. Did Lincoln count as new? Was she trying to warn me away from him? She’d reacted badly to the idea of a druid in the cave, but the cave hadn’t kicked him out when I claimed him. I covered my face so I wouldn’t see the calm understanding in his long-lashed eyes. I shivered again at the thought of another betrayal, a real betrayal, and the inevitable disappointment.

  Lincoln held me closer and dragged the blanket up from where it had slid down the bed, and I lay down next to him once again. He kissed my shoulder and the side of my neck as he spooned me, a massive electric blanket that wrapped around me, and he murmured, “What about the cave?”

  “Things I should have done differently,” I said. I stared into the darkness of my room, wondering if I would be able to sleep a wink. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “Normally I wouldn’t mind,” he said, and squeezed my side before nuzzling into the soft spot behind my ear that made a whole different kind of shiver roll through me. “But you lead with your elbow, so I’m going to have a black eye tomorrow.”

  “What?” I turned, horrified, so I could look at him.

  And found him grinning, those damn white teeth flashing in the dark, and he capitaliz
ed on having me all tangled up and frozen by capturing my lips with his. He kissed me slowly, his hand drifting down my side, and all the pent-up stress of the dream dissipated in the soft certainty of his touch. I closed my eyes and exhaled, and Lincoln kissed his way down my throat to the indent above my collarbone.

  My fingers slid into his hair and I seriously debated just ripping off his clothes and having my way with him—even with the ghost’s warning about the danger of new strangers in my life. But Lincoln bumped his nose against mine and sighed, a rusty sound deep in his throat. “It’s still dark out and you need more sleep. So no getting any dirty thoughts in your head, Luckett. You can’t take advantage of me.”

  I smiled and moved back to my side so his arm draped over me and my head pillowed on his other arm. “Like I’m the one with the dirty thoughts.”

  “You witches are notorious for orgies,” he murmured. His palm slid down my hip and not even the pajama pants I wore could diminish the delicious friction of his touch.

  Neither one of us would get any sleep at the rate we were going. I tangled my fingers with his and dragged his hand back up to my side instead of my thigh. “And here I’d heard the same thing about druids. Don’t you all dance naked under the full moon in the middle of henges? Blue paint and bones and shit?”

  He snorted. “No bones. And we don’t need henges. They’re just window-dressing.”

  I huffed a laugh and sighed, closing my eyes. Just window-dressing. Unbelievable.

  Chapter 48

  The door flew open and Lucia stood silhouetted against the frame. “Sass, I swear to Christ, did you—”

  I blinked and started to push myself up on my elbows so I could throw something at her for waking me up, but the mountain of muscle next to me also stirred, and I abruptly remembered that Lincoln spooned me on the narrow mattress. I cleared my throat and pushed my hair out of my face, like there wasn’t a man in my bed. “What’s up?”

  My sister’s face went beet red. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “Everyone is clothed,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster. “I wanted to talk to Lincoln last night, we had a few drinks, and I didn’t want him to drive back to The Inn. It was a matter of public safety.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she repeated.

  “What?” Olivia asked, peering over her shoulder. “What’s Sass…Whoa. Wait. Do you have a boy in there?”

  I collapsed back against the pillow and dragged the sheets over my head as Lincoln shook with silent laughter next to me. I muttered, “I told you this would be an issue.”

  He was still laughing as he threw the sheets back and sat up. “Good morning, ladies.”

  Olivia grinned and started to shoulder Lucia aside. “Well, good morning, Agent O’Connell. Want to stay for breakfast? Can you flip pancakes?”

  “Liv, do not make me say it again. Go downstairs.” Lucia wasn’t nearly as amused as the rest of us. Our little sister eyed her with enough irritation that I figured Lucia would need to check her room for hexes later, but Liv bounced down the stairs and whistled to herself the whole way through the house. Lucia pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, like she could block all of us out if she only concentrated hard enough. “Okay. So this explains why we have a car full of your people, Agent O’Connell, sitting on our front lawn and demanding to know why your car is there but you aren’t. It also explains why no one was downstairs to supervise that shithead druid my sister rescued who has now destroyed pretty much everything in the kitchen, since he couldn’t figure out how to use the fucking stove. We’re completely out of food because of his little experiments, there are wolf tracks all around the house, my car is completely out of gas, and it’s raining. It’s fucking raining and Liv won’t shut up about the Christmas decorations.”

  I blinked, my mouth hanging open. “Are you…are you crying?”

  “No,” she snapped. But her eyes still looked red and her voice wobbled up and down. Lucia glared at both of us, then jabbed her finger in my direction. “But I am at the end of my tether, Sass. You can bounce around and have your fun with him,” and she flipped her hand in a dismissive gesture at Lincoln. “But I’m not going to clean up your mess. We have real problems to worry about. I don’t want you bringing new ones home—whether they’re werewolves or federal agents or the Bell only knows what else.”

  Lincoln was smarter than he looked. Instead of staring at her with a blank expression, like I did, he sat forward and leaned across me to retrieve his cell phone from where it charged on my bedside table. “My team will have a gas can in their truck, and there’s one in mine. We can fill up your car so you’ve got gas if you need to go somewhere. I’ll have Mason or Hazel drive you to the grocery store, and we’ll buy whatever you need to stock up the kitchen. I’m sure we’ve been eating you out of house and home over the last little while, so we owe you. I don’t know shit about Christmas decorations, so I’m no help there, but we can take a look at the wolf tracks and figure out if those are new or just from Luke’s grandmother.”

  “Nona was here?” Some of the rage drained out of Lucia. “The tracks were too large for her, I think, but maybe they were tracking her instead of us.”

  “Luke said he would bring her by this morning, when we have our powwow.” She gave me a dark look so I held up a hand to forestall the lecture. “I asked Luke, he said it’s not racist to say it. Even if his people don’t actually powwow.”

  She scowled and held her thumb and forefinger a tiny sliver apart. “You’re this close to getting your ass kicked, Sass.”

  “Go downstairs and get some coffee,” I muttered. I swung my feet over the side of the bed and started the long process of getting moving. “You’re getting on my nerves.”

  “We’re out of coffee, so deal with the druid first,” Lucia said. “The one downstairs who can’t figure out a fucking toaster. See if the druid in your bed can come up with a halfway home for the old, misogynist one telling me to make him breakfast.”

  I shook my head, looking around the room for my jeans and an acceptable sweater in the piles of laundry, though I couldn’t face putting my feet on the chilly floor right away. “That explains your attitude.”

  But Lucia was already off on her next diatribe, storming down the stairs to give another piece of her mind to Ronan.

  I rolled my eyes, then squeaked as Lincoln reached for me and dragged me back into the sheets. He pressed his face against the back of my neck and squeezed me tight. “Good morning, by the way.”

  “Good morning.” I wanted to lie there all day with him, our feet tangled up and his hair askew and everything warm and soft and quiet.

  But it was barely a minute before his cell phone rang and someone shouted in the kitchen and the real world intruded once more. I kissed him quick, mindful of morning breath, and rolled out of bed to get dressed.

  Chapter 49

  By the time we got downstairs, Mason had a gas can next to Lucia’s car and was fussing with the gas cap, Hazel was dragging the mostly-ruined decorations onto the porch, and Nelson wandered around the yard, following tracks through the mud. Lucia scowled at the pantry as Ronan ordered her to make porridge and bacon for him as he stood in the wreckage of what had once been a halfway clean kitchen, and she worked on a list of supplies while Liv hauled some dicey produce out of the fridge and coaxed another pot of coffee out of yesterday’s grounds.

  Lincoln didn’t comment, but I felt the tiniest bit of shame work its way into my heart that he would see how badly off we were. We hadn’t always been poor. The town stopped helping us out after Aunt Bess went sideways, and we couldn’t get enough work to make up the difference. I got water to drink instead, and offered Lincoln a glass as well.

  Neither of my sisters commented on the tall federal agent leaning against the wall near the fridge, but Olivia grinned so wide I thought her jaw might break and Ronan straightened up like a scalded cat.

  The druid, still wearing the sweatpants and T-
shirt we’d given him the night before, looked like I’d just offended his most delicate sensibilities. “What’s going on here? You had a gentleman caller?”

  Lucia snorted and muttered, “That’s one way to put it,” before shoving Ronan out of the way so she could reach into the depths of the pantry without him hovering over her shoulder.

  My erstwhile ancestor squared up to Lincoln, who remained in his nonchalant lean against the wall, and tried to give him a hard glare. “Who are you? What is your business here?”

  “My business here is none of yours,” Lincoln said smoothly. He offered his hand anyway. “I’m Lincoln, a friend of Anastasia’s. And you are?”

  “Ronan Luckett,” the druid said. He glanced at Lincoln’s hand and clearly measured whether the other man was worth befouling himself. He finally pressed his fingers into the fed’s, then froze.

  Lincoln seized his hand with a great deal of strength, undeterred by Ronan’s hesitation, and kept a hold of him as Ronan jumped like he’d electrocuted him instead. Something passed between them, tinged green, as the two men stared at each other.

  Liv leaned against me as she eyed both of them. “You think that’s the druid equivalent of a pissing contest?”

  “Must be,” Lucia said. “There’s cereal over the fridge, Sass, and three eggs left inside it. If your boyfriend there keeps his word, I’ll at least be able to get to the store to get supplies for the next few days.”