I’d braced with both arms, but the recoil still knocked me backward. If I hadn’t been in the water, I would have fallen on my ass. As it was, I staggered back hard enough for my head to go under, and I came up spitting bloody mineral water, trying not to panic because it had gone up my nose. When I wiped at my eyes, I saw that the Unktehila had instinctively wrenched itself backward again, and it was livid. The shots must have traveled quite a way into its muscle, maybe hitting some spine, because as it thrashed around, the last twelve feet of its tail no longer seemed to be functioning. Unable to move forward smoothly, it wheeled on me.
I thought we’d worked it into a frenzy before, but the look it gave me, on its not-very-expressive face, was terrifying. It had flipped the tail out of my reach, so I looked around for the sword, only to realize I’d left it on the side of the pool.
Simon and the werewolves chose that exact moment to leap into the water, or what was left of it—the pool was draining through the Unktehila’s escape hole—and each of them went for the nearest section of giant snake, attacking however they could. But instead of getting distracted again, the Unktehila continued its beeline straight for me.
I raised the Desert Eagle and took aim for its eye, but the thing was moving too fast, and my next bullet bounced off the scales and buried itself harmlessly in the bottom of the pool. Shit. The head flowed toward me, looking gleeful, but as it pulled back its fangs and prepared to strike there was a shout and a motion to my left, and the Unktehila suddenly staggered back as if it had been cuffed in the side of the head by an invisible force. We both turned to see Simon holding up one hand and shouting at it.
I was looking at the back of the Unktehila’s head, but I could see its cobra hood spread again as it rounded on Simon. I made you a promise, interloper. I intend to keep it.
I turned my back for long enough to slog over to my sword, but by the time I’d scooped it up and turned around, the Unktehila was already in motion, seeming to propel itself straight up into the air. It hit the already-cracked skylight, which shattered into a million tiny knives of falling glass. Simon and I both covered our faces as the shards sprinkled down on us, and by the time I lowered my arms and saw the Unktehila’s head coming back down, it was about three seconds too late to get a warning out of my mouth.
The Unktehila crashed back down, jaws wide open, mouth unhinged, and its head landed right on top of the exact spot where Simon had been standing.
Chapter 40
“No!” I screamed. The Unktehila’s voice was back in my head again, and it was laughing.
Nonononono not again. This could not happen again. I would not allow it.
I lurched sideways toward the nearest coil, which was more or less the halfway point of the thing’s body. I drove the sword in at an angle and then down. The Unktehila began to struggle, trying to move away from me with Simon still gripped in its mouth, but I held fast to the handle of the sword and used it to lever my weight up, allowing me to swing up onto the thing’s back. I reached into my right pants pocket and pulled out the single grenade I’d grabbed, using my left hand, still holding the sword, to fumble off the safety clip. I pulled the pin and, with the grenade clutched in my other hand, wrenched the sword sideways. Then I jerked it out, letting it crash to the ground, and thrust the grenade into the hole I’d made, pushing it in as deep as my arm could reach. It was so far beyond disgusting that I didn’t let my brain think about what my arm was touching.
Bracing myself against the creature’s back, I pulled my arm out as far as I could and I threw myself to one side, tumbling into a clumsy roll on the pool tiles. I managed to drag myself to my knees and crawl away, my hands bloody and spiky with splinters of broken glass from the skylight.
Then the grenade exploded.
I was clubbed down by a chunk of meat the size of a basketball. I landed on my face, my cheek pressed against the cool tile, as more chunks of steaming flesh rained down around me. Between the Desert Eagle and the grenade, my hearing was shot, and it seemed like a really good idea to just lie there in the broken glass for a little while. Yes, that was a great idea.
But Simon.
Could Simon still be alive?
I somehow managed to get my bleeding palms underneath me, and then laboriously pushed my body up until my feet were under me, remembering what they were supposed to do. I managed to force my hand around the sword and tottered toward the head of the Unktehila, which had been cut in half by the explosion. Even an immortal snake monster can’t survive a full-on bisection. When I reached the head, I saw that the Unktehila’s mouth had fallen open slightly. I dragged my body forward and put the tip of the sword in, levering it open farther. Then I repeated the process. Farther. Farther. When I had the two jaws about three feet apart, I saw a bare foot. I clutched at it, trying to pull, but my hands were slippery with blood and pool water and there was no give at all. And Simon hadn’t had any air in there. I tried to stand, hoping it would give me more leverage, but my feet slipped on glass and blood. My limbs gave out and when I went down this time, I knew I couldn’t drag myself back up. I lay there as my vision began to cloud, knowing that I had failed. I had gotten Simon killed, and I couldn’t save him.
Then I saw a slender hand pick up my sword. I watched its point move down the Unktehila, about six feet from where the foot was, and then the sword was thrust in. The last thing I saw before my eyes closed was Mary, gloriously nude, reaching in to dig at the Unktehila’s insides.
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself staring directly into the warm brown gaze of Sashi Brighton, who was maybe eighteen inches away from my face. She grinned widely when she realized I was looking at her. “Welcome back,” she said in her crisp accent.
I blinked. I was lying on my stomach on a white cot, so why wasn’t Sashi’s face sideways? Then I got it: she was lying on a cot too. “You hurt?” I managed to say.
She smiled, and I recognized the weariness in her expression. She was too tired to get up. “Just wiped out. Healing isn’t as easy as I make it look, you know. You had a hairline fracture in your ankle, about a dozen life-threatening cuts, shrapnel in your back and legs, and just a little bit of internal bleeding. And don’t get me started on Simon.”
I sat up too fast, and had to clutch the sides of my cot. It hurt, and I realized that under the light bandages I was wearing, my palms still had dozens of tiny abrasions from where I’d touched the broken glass. I was naked and the sheet that had covered me pooled at my waist, but I was too shaky to even try to cover myself. “Is he alive?” I asked Sashi.
She didn’t sit up, which told me how drained she really was. “Behind you.”
I turned, which hurt—there were a lot of small cuts on my arms and knees, too, but they were too shallow to even warrant a bandage—and saw him lying on the cot behind mine. His expression was peaceful, and he was breathing, but everything else was covered under a sheet.
Then I spotted a huddled figure against the wall behind him and realized where we were: the big back room at Magic Beans. Complete with ghosts. Of course. “Will he recover?” I asked without turning around.
“Yes. Although if you’ve ever considered getting swallowed by an enormous snake, I wouldn’t recommend it. Most of his major bones were broken, and the thing did its damnedest to liquefy his insides.” I turned back to the thaumaturge witch, who let out a jaw-cracking yawn. “I did as much as I could tonight and gave him a sedative to let us both rest,” she continued. “I’ll work on him again tomorrow.”
“Grace?”
She smiled briefly. “With your cousin’s family again. I hope you don’t mind that I called them.”
“Of course not.”
Her eyes drifted closed. “They’re really nice, your family. Sometimes I wish I . . .”
Her voice drifted off as exhaustion overtook her. I let her sleep.
Swinging my legs slowly over the side of the cot, I sat up and took stock of my leftover injuries. I was stiff and achy again, but aside fro
m the dozens of small cuts on my hands, arms, and knees, I seemed to be in okay shape. My feet were still bare, but they were fine. Sashi must have healed the superficial cuts there so I could walk without pain. Smart.
Then I realized that someone must have cut off my shredded clothes, bathed me, and even washed my hair. Ordinarily I’d feel violated by this, but considering what I’d been—quite literally—soaked in at the springs, I was planning to find whoever had done it and kiss their feet in gratitude. Of course, I was also very naked now, which was less than ideal.
“Sashi brought you some clothes. They’re in Maven’s office.”
I jumped, clutching the sheet to my chest, and twisted around to see the back exit, the one that led outdoors. Quinn stood there, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets.
“How—how long have you been there?” I stammered.
“Since we brought you back.”
“Who’s we?”
He pushed off the wall and walked over to sit down at the edge of my cot. I hugged my knees to my chest, both to make more room for him and to cover my nakedness. “Opal called me and Maven as soon as she got the last civilians out of Grizzly Springs. Maven pulled some strings to get the transport helicopter at Memorial to fly down there and bring you and Simon back.”
It took me a long moment to absorb all of that. “What time is it?” I’d left my watch at a brothel in Denver.
“Three a.m. Same night,” he added, after seeing my confusion.
“The werewolves?” I asked.
“They’d recovered by the time the chopper got there,” he assured me. “They brought the Jeep back just a little bit ago. Dunn said it handles like a dream.” He looked at Simon for a long moment. His usual impassive expression was clouded by concern. “I was worried about you guys.”
“I should have let you come,” I said quietly. “I was hurt, and I was being petulant. And once again I almost got Simon killed because I didn’t trust you.”
“I didn’t give you much reason to trust me,” he said matter-of-factly. “I shouldn’t have pressed the police chief for you without asking.” He looked away, hesitating, and I realized that he wasn’t finished. “I also realize you could have pressed me to listen to you at any point, and you didn’t,” he said softly. “I’m sorry, Lex.”
“I’m sorry too.”
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Did we just have our first fight?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please visualize me hitting you with a pillow,” I said tartly, “as I currently lack the strength.”
He smiled, but it faded quickly. “How hurt are you?” he asked, and there was an edge to his voice that made me very nervous.
“What happened?” I said.
Quinn froze for a moment, deciding, and then said, “The trip to Chautauqua wasn’t a waste. The werewolves have really good noses, and between us, and some detective work . . .”
Why was he drawing this out? “What, Quinn?”
“I know who activated the ley line.”
Chapter 41
“Are you positive?” I asked for about the fifth time. I believed him, of course. I just didn’t want it to be true.
Quinn’s voice was still remarkably patient. “Yes. I’m sure. They’re sure. And they have no reason to lie to me.”
“Right.” I swallowed hard. “Does Maven know? Where is she?”
“She knows, and she went to see Hazel first, out of respect.”
I shook my head, but then a new thought occurred to me. “Lily?”
“I didn’t call her. I couldn’t see any reason to tell her now.”
“Tell me what?”
I jumped; Quinn just looked briefly vexed. The voice came from the other side of the door that led to the rest of the coffee shop. “Could someone unlock this?” Lily called. “And maybe tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I’ve got to talk to Maven about soundproofing the doors,” Quinn muttered, but he went over to let her in. Lily burst into the room.
“Si!” She rushed over to her brother and started wringing her hands, obviously afraid to touch him.
“He’s gonna be fine,” I promised her. “He was given a sedative until Sashi can finish healing him tomorrow. He’s fine.”
Nodding, Lily carefully ruffled her fingers through her brother’s hair, then rested a hand on his shoulder. “Stupid nerd cowboy,” she grumbled at him, but the worry was still written all over her face.
“What are you doing here?” Quinn asked.
“I called Simon and Lex looking for news. When neither of them answered, I figured you’d be here . . .” She looked between the two of us. “Now tell me what I’m not supposed to know.”
Quinn and I exchanged a look, and then Quinn said, “The werewolves picked up a witch scent in Chautauqua, someone who’d been all over there recently, doing magic. We followed the trail back to your sister Sybil’s house.”
“But I just left her,” Lily whispered. “She had three glasses of wine and passed out on my mom’s couch.”
“She’ll be waking up soon,” Quinn said soberly. “Maven went to talk to your mother.”
“Oh shit!” Lily looked anguished, her fingers rising to twist into her dreadlocked hair. “I mean, she’s Sybil, but she’s still a Pellar! I never really thought . . .” She paced in a tight circle, then froze, her lovely face paling as she looked back at Quinn. “Is Maven going to kill my sister?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he said, and his voice was so frank and tired that even Lily believed him.
“I gotta go over there,” she cried. “I gotta talk to them, see if I can—”
“No, you don’t,” Quinn ordered. “They’ll figure out what they figure out. It’ll only make it worse if you’re there.”
Lily glared at him, tears running down her face. “She’s my sister, you prick!”
“I’m gonna go get dressed,” I broke in. I had a feeling I was about to either drive Lily to Hazel’s or physically restrain her from leaving, and I wanted to be wearing clothes when that happened. I wrapped the sheet around myself as best I could and left the two of them to their argument, closing the door to Maven’s office behind me.
Sashi had brought me a spare outfit from her own suitcase, God love her. There was silk underwear, a wireless silk bra, jeans, and a long-sleeved knit T-shirt in an earthy brown. The jeans were a little tight in the thigh and the bra was a little bigger than strictly necessary, but it was close enough. My shoes, which someone had possessed the presence of mind to snatch out of the locker room at Grizzly Springs, were there too, as was my cell phone. Score. When I picked up the phone, I saw that I’d missed a text message seven minutes earlier. It was from John.
911 come over now. EMERGENCY. Don’t tell ANYONE.
I stared at it. And stared at it. Then I called John’s cell, but it went straight to voicemail. So I stared at the message some more. Had something happened to Charlie? It couldn’t be related to Sybil; Lily had just seen her. And it couldn’t have anything to do with the sandworm, obviously, since we’d killed it. What else . . . Keller? Could he have gone to John and persuaded him to lure me over? John wouldn’t voluntarily set me up, but I could see Keller tricking him into setting a trap.
Even if it wasn’t a trap, John wasn’t answering, so there was only one way to find out. I picked up the keys to Maven’s Jeep. I didn’t know what she’d driven to see Hazel—maybe Quinn’s car. It didn’t matter.
Back in the main room, Quinn and Lily were still arguing over whether Lily should go to the farmhouse. “I have to leave,” I broke in loudly.
Both of them stopped talking to stare at me. “Now?” Lily said incredulously.
“It’s a family thing,” I said apologetically. “I’m sorry, I can’t say more.”
The two of them shouted for me to stop, but I kept right on walking, all the way out the back door and over to the Jeep. As I turned the key in the ignition, the passenger door jerked open and Lily hopped in.
&nb
sp; “Lily, I have—”
“To go, yeah, I get it. Wherever you’re going, I’m going with you. I can’t sit in there arguing with Quinn for one more second. He’ll keep an eye on Sashi and Simon.” She buckled her seat belt resolutely.
I didn’t move. “You can’t just invite yourself—”
“It seemed like this was urgent,” Lily interrupted me again. “Or at least I’m assuming it was, if you were willing to walk out on me in the middle of a crisis. Do you really have time to argue about it?”
I sighed and put the Jeep in reverse. “No, I don’t. But you’re staying in the car.”
“Fine. Where are we going?”
I told her.
The cul-de-sac was quiet, but I parked a few houses away anyway, and took the keys with me in case Lily had any bright ideas about driving it to the Pellar farm. She pouted at me and held up her cell phone. “Okay, okay. Call me if you need me. I’ll be using produce to save the world from a zombie plague. And obsessively calling my mother over and over until she answers.”
I tried to run straight inside, but John had installed a new front door since the break-in, and I didn’t have the keys. So I pounded on the front door instead, and when I didn’t get an immediate reply, I rang the doorbell. About twenty times. Nobody answered.
I had just stepped back, and was scanning the front windows for the best one to break, when the new door finally popped open, revealing a very sleepy-looking John. “Lex?” he said blearily. “What are you doing here?”
“You texted me,” I said, panting with adrenaline. “You said ‘911.’ So I came. Where’s Charlie?”
His face morphed into utter confusion. “She’s in the kitchen with Sarah. She had a bad dream, so we were going to make her some warm milk. What text?”
I stared at him for a second, puzzled. What the fuck was going on?
Boundary Lines (Boundary Magic Book 2) Page 27
