“Of course not, dummy,” Lily said, giving him a little backhand on his arm. She looked to me for confirmation. “Right?”
I nodded. “Right. I never suspected either of you. Duh. But according to Maven’s expert, the witch who did this has to be a member of Clan Pellar. And as far as I know, half the clan is related to you in one way or another.” I spread my hands helplessly.
“Oh,” Lily said in a small voice.
Simon looked dazed, like I’d suddenly slapped him across the face. They both did. “You’re . . . sure?” he said.
“Pretty sure.”
The Pellars exchanged a horrified look. “Sybil?” Lily whispered.
“That’s what I was thinking too,” Simon answered, his voice heavy. “But let’s be honest, it could be Mom. Or any of the other witches who’ve complained about the pact over the last dozen years.”
“You’re right.” Lily looked at me. “Um . . . what do we do?”
“What did Maven tell you to do?” Simon added, looking nervous.
“She said we get the Unktehila first, tonight, and then worry about who’s behind it,” I said firmly. “The Unktehila has to take priority.”
Simon nodded, looking resolved, but his sister was biting her lower lip nervously. “Si,” Lily began, “we gotta tell Mom. She needs to know if one of us is . . . is . . .”
“And if Mom’s actually the one who’s doing it?” Simon asked her. “What then? We unite against Lex? Or turn the witch over to Maven?”
Lily shot me an uncomfortable look, like this was junior high and I’d just caught them gossiping. “No, but . . .”
Simon shook his head forcefully. “Lex is right. We need to focus on getting this done, and then worry about finding the witch who did it.” He squared his shoulders and looked at me. “What do you need from us?”
“I want to put together two teams: one to go to Idaho Springs, and a smaller force to go back to Chautauqua just in case the Unktehila goes back there after all,” I explained. “You’ll come with me.”
“I’m coming too,” Lily insisted. “I can help.”
Simon snorted. “Now who thinks she’s a badass?”
“I need you to stay in Boulder and keep an eye on the clan,” I told her. “There’s a chance that whatever witch did this will try to interfere with us, or that he or she will stir up even more trouble for Maven and your mom while we’re busy dealing with the sandworm. If that happens, I can’t promise Maven will have any mercy.”
“So you want me to just, what, hang out with a bunch of people who may be responsible for all this without saying anything?” She gave me an indignant look.
“Yes. You can’t let anyone know what we’re doing, or what’s happening with the ley lines.”
Lily looked from me to her brother and heaved out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I can do that.”
I’m not a touchy-feely person, but Lily is, so I reached over and squeezed her arm. Her answering smile told me she recognized the significance of the gesture. I turned back to Simon, but my attention was caught by something shining in a glass case behind him. “Simon? What’s in that exhibit?” I pointed to the display.
“Hmm?” He turned around to see. “Oh, I love this—these are all things that were confiscated by the TSA in the last ten years. That’s a two-handed Danish sword from the fifteenth century. There’s a complete zebra hide over there too, and—” Turning around again, Simon saw my face and began to glare at me. “Oh, no. No way.”
“Simon . . .”
“I can’t just take something out of an exhibit, Lex!” he said, exasperated.
“You saw the Unktehila, Simon,” I wheedled. “The shotgun did nothing against those scales; they’re like chain mail. The werewolves have teeth and claws. I need a blade.”
“I could lose my job for stealing something from the museum! Let’s just go to the hardware store and get a machete or something.”
I shook my head. “No time. We gotta move on this if we’re gonna make it to the hot springs in time. And besides . . . it’s so pretty.”
It really was. The sword was nearly five feet long, thin and sharp, with a diamond cross section to give it rigidity for thrusts. It was even resting on top of a beautiful leather scabbard with a strap attached halfway down.
Simon still looked unhappy, but he was considering it now, so I added, “Come on, you can have it back in the morning before anyone even knows it was gone. It’s a victimless crime, Simon, and it could save lives.”
He sighed. “Fine. I’ll go get the keys.”
My phone buzzed: a text from Quinn to tell me that he was outside with the werewolves. “They’re here,” I said to the Pellar siblings. “Give me a minute to make sure everyone is friendly.”
Outside, Quinn was standing on the sidewalk leading up to the museum, looking as nonchalant as one can while one is flanked by seven restless-looking werewolves. They were currently human, but every last one of them looked as twitchy as a junkie in a jail cell. Tobias was toward the back, still wearing the clothes I’d grabbed for him at the hardware store. He seemed as jumpy as the rest, but he also couldn’t stop smiling, and I figured he was still feeling pretty great about having his sanity back.
Behind him were two females, one a brunette coed in a minidress, the other a very trim, perfectly made-up Caucasian woman with a buzz cut and a beige sweater set. The three men who ringed them were of varying ages and heights, but they were all dressed in old sweats and ratty T-shirts—clothes you wouldn’t mind losing or destroying. I approved.
The man at Quinn’s elbow stepped forward. He strode up to me, getting a little too far into my personal space, and held out his hand. “Ryan Dunn,” he said abruptly. “Alpha of the Cheyenne pack. The other wolves near the state border fled after the full moon.”
I nodded and shook his hand, sizing him up. Dunn was well over six feet tall and barrel-shaped, and if I had to guess, I’d say one of his parents was Hispanic—his skin was light, but he had dark eyes and black hair that was beginning to gray at the temples. He appeared to be in his late forties or early fifties, and had the habit of leaning forward to tower over people.
“I’m Lex,” I said. “Quinn and I represent Maven’s wishes this evening.”
Dunn nodded. “Tobias filled me in on the situation with the ley lines. It’s a relief to know we weren’t all losing our minds at the same time.” I smiled in response, but Dunn didn’t, and from the look on the werewolves’ faces, I realized it hadn’t been intended as a joke. They really had thought they might be going insane, as a group.
“Did Quinn explain the deal to you?” I asked.
There was some shifting of weight and eyes amongst the werewolves, and Tobias gave a little cringe. “You want us to fight a monster tonight,” Dunn said, in the same gruff tone, “and in return, Maven will overlook our . . . transgressions with the vamp chick in Julesburg.”
I glanced over his shoulder at Quinn. His jaw had tightened, and his eyes had gone to their special blank place. If I hadn’t known him so well, I might not have caught that he was furious.
“Only thing is,” Dunn continued, “I can’t see as how killing that girl was our fault. We couldn’t stay away from Colorado owing to the line, and she came after us that night. We were just defending ourselves.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other werewolves nodding their agreement. “I see no cause for us to risk our very lives fighting this thing, to pay for an act we had no control over.”
I could have pointed out that life isn’t fair and Maven could crush him like a Japanese beetle, but this guy didn’t seem like the type who’d back down from threats. He didn’t seem like the type to back down, period, and I didn’t have time to get Maven over here to kick his ass. I studied him, his upright posture, his arms held out in front of him—one hand holding the opposite wrist. “You were military,” I said.
Looking a little surprised, Dunn gave me a grudging nod. “Marines,” he grunted. “Until ’99, when I was mauled down i
n Panama.” He glared a little. “No medical benefits for shapeshifters. Barely a pension.”
I nodded. “Not very fair,” I remarked.
“Damn right, it wasn’t.”
“But if you were a Marine, you understand unfair.” Behind him, Tobias tilted his head. They were all listening. “You also understand the greater good. We don’t have the time to debate your responsibility for Allegra’s death right now, not when this thing is about to take, eat, and kill another human being. In that order.”
I paused to let that sink in for a moment, but Dunn’s face didn’t change, so I went on, “I could try to convince you to help us for that reason alone, because we have a better chance of saving a life tonight than the human cops do. But I don’t know you, and I don’t know if a moral appeal will do any good. So how about this: After we kill this thing, you can go present your case to Maven. If you can convince her that you deserve it, she’ll owe you a favor.”
Quinn shot me a look that suggested I was playing with fire, but I ignored it. The only thing I’d really promised was a face-to-face meeting with Maven, and honestly, it couldn’t be that big a deal.
Meanwhile, Dunn’s interest was piqued. “A favor?”
I waved one hand in a circle. “A boon, a marker, a chit. The most powerful vampire in the state, maybe the world, will owe you one.”
Dunn considered that for a moment. “And if Maven disagrees? If she turns me down flat?”
“Then I’ll owe you the favor.”
The alpha regarded me with renewed interest. There was some more murmuring and shifting behind Dunn, but the big alpha’s eyes were on me. I held his gaze, keeping my chin level: not challenging, not defying, but sure as hell not backing down. “You say it’s already killed two?” he said at last.
“That we know of. It ate everything but the clothes and some of the larger bones,” I said flatly.
Dunn sighed and held out his hand again. “You’ve got a deal.”
Chapter 37
Lily had texted Hazel and learned that some of the clan members were hanging out at the farmhouse to play cards. She took off after hugging Simon and me and warning us both to be careful. She even told Quinn not to “get more dead.” I was still pissed at him, but I had to smile at that.
The campus was still crowded enough that we were exposed, so the rest of us retreated back down to the BioLounge. Quinn carried in three massive duffel bags that were straining at the seams—weapons, I figured.
When everyone was inside, I laid out the plan: Simon and I would take Dunn and two other werewolves with us to the hot springs, while the remaining four went to Chautauqua with the second team. Dunn could choose the wolves himself; he knew his people best. I put Quinn in charge of leading the Chautauqua team. I made a point of not looking at him when I explained that part.
Quinn had laid each of his bags out on a table like some sort of demented sample sale, and as soon as I’d delivered instructions, everyone started to drift over to the weapon stash to check out the gear. Quinn came over and pulled me aside.
“The second team?” he said in a low voice. “I should be with you guys at the hot springs.”
“I need a vampire at Chautauqua in case the creature shows up there instead,” I said coolly. “You’re the best at pressing people”—my voice may have gotten a little edgy there—“so it makes sense to put you in the highly populated area.”
“But you’ll need a vampire in Idaho Springs, too,” he argued. “If the hot springs are still open, there will be people there. You’ll need to be able to press any human witnesses.”
“That’s why Opal is picking us up in the Jeep.”
“So send her to Chautauqua and take me along,” Quinn argued.
I lifted my chin. “I’m taking Opal. That’s final.”
He searched my face. “You know, don’t you? About Bryant.”
“Damn right I do.”
He sighed, but his body language was unapologetic. “I was just trying to protect you. To help you.”
“Against my wishes?” I countered. “Despite what I specifically told you I wanted for myself? Pressing minds isn’t a game, Quinn, and it isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card, either.”
“Don’t be a child.” His face was impassive again, and my fingers clenched into fists. I glanced over at the group of werewolves, who were very pointedly studying the weapons Quinn had brought, the exhibits around us, the ceiling tiles. Oh yeah, they could hear us. Only Simon truly seemed oblivious. He had regular human hearing.
I turned back to Quinn and crossed my arms. “Maven put me in charge of tonight. I’m putting you in charge of the second team, because I don’t trust you to do what I tell you, rather than what you think is best for me.” Quinn’s eyes narrowed, but I continued before he could say anything else. “If you have a problem with my plan, you can take it up with Maven. But know that any delay might mean we don’t make it there in time to stop this thing.” I lifted my eyebrows in a challenge, and his face went blank. But he didn’t say anything, and after a moment I turned away from him and walked carefully over to Simon. I did not stomp or flounce away, because I am a grown-ass woman.
I watched as Simon worriedly perused a selection of handguns on one of the tables. The wolves didn’t really need to bring weapons—they were weapons—but the vampires and I would be bringing some of Quinn’s arsenal to the hot springs. There was a really good chance I’d have to fire them, and I didn’t want the police to be able to connect the ballistics to my personal weapons. But Simon was terrible with firearms, and he knew it. Luckily, I could help with that.
“So, Simon,” I said casually, pretending to study a Sig Sauer on the table. “I broke a little glass ball today at Magic Beans.”
He went still for a moment, then it clicked, and he looked at me with wide eyes. “Does that mean . . .”
I nodded, grinning. “Yes!” Simon crowed, and he threw his arms around me. I barely had time to set down the Glock I’d been examining before he hugged me so hard he knocked me backward into a table. I laughed, even though Dunn and the other wolves gave me baffled, what kind of operation is she running here looks.
“Sorry, sorry!” Simon exclaimed, but he was doing an honest-to-God happy dance. “This is awesome—oh! I gotta get ready, I—” he looked around for a moment and then dug keys out of his pocket. “One of my dad’s journals is up in my office, I can probably figure out a couple of hexes on the way.”
I left him to his planning and continued to gather my own weapons. I already had the sword, but I picked up an Israeli .50 caliber Desert Eagle. It was so big that I would be forced to use both hands to shoot it, but it was the only .50 caliber sidearm there that was magazine-fed, and I wanted the extra shots. The Desert Eagle was too big for my Wild West quick-draw holster, so I also grabbed a thigh holster and moved on down Quinn’s little bloodshed buffet. I didn’t see anything else I thought would help against the Unktehila—until I got to the very last table. “No way,” I said disbelievingly.
How in the hell would Quinn get access to fragmentation grenades?
Chapter 38
Quinn and I didn’t speak much as the teams split up. He was still angry with my decision, but I was stubborn, and we parted with just a brief nod and a “Good hunting.”
My team made a quick stop at a grocery store for steaks, and half an hour later we were crowded into Maven’s tricked-out Jeep, headed for Idaho Springs: one vampire, two witches, and three werewolves. It sounded like the beginning of a Halloween picture book.
Dunn had said he was bringing his best two fighters, who turned out to be a lean Australian guy with bleached hair named Jamie, and the brunette woman in the minidress, six-inch heels, and enough makeup to decorate a room full of showgirls. Her name was Mary, and although she looked like she’d just walked out of a Eurotrash nightclub, she was all sharp cheekbones and scary curved fingernails, like the talons of a bird. A predator. Quinn had included a sharpening kit in his weapons cache, and Mary had of
fered to sharpen the Danish sword for me during the car ride. I didn’t hear a word from her the whole way.
I let Opal drive, which freed Simon to study his spells and me to work on the plan for finding the Unktehila. She would also be able to press the minds of any cop who stopped us, although I told her to try to stay within ten miles of the speed limit.
I closed my eyes and reviewed what little I knew about where we were going. Like so many small cities in Colorado, Idaho Springs had sprung to life during the Gold Rush, and then managed to stay alive after the gold dried up by throwing itself headlong into tourism. That in itself wouldn’t have kept the town afloat, but luckily Idaho Springs had another big draw: the natural hot springs. The first public bathhouse in town was established during the Civil War, and had been available to the public in some form or another ever since, though it had been through any number of names, owners, and structures.
I’d actually been to the current incarnation, Grizzly Springs and Spa, back in high school, when my aunt Violet had decided to take Sam and me for an educational spa day at the springs. Violet was a high school science teacher, and had spent much of the drive down explaining how the springs worked: underground pockets of magma heated up the water, which then rose, just like any other type of heat, until it reached the surface and bubbled out of the ground. Because the water absorbs minerals from the surrounding rocks, people had long since decided the waters are good for our health.
I wasn’t a scientist, but I felt instinctively that Simon was right about us finding the Unktehila there—it was just too perfect a den for an underground snake monster—but the problem was going to be figuring out where the thing would surface. The springs consisted of a big public pool, private baths, a room for “mudding,” and geothermal caves, which seemed like perfect entry points for a creature that traveled underground. We needed to draw it out of its den, but our intel was so limited, there was bound to be a certain amount of improvisation. I didn’t like that.
Boundary Lines (Boundary Magic Book 2) Page 25
