Winnie nodded rapidly. “That’s the word. It’s not what I expected Daphne to tell me, that’s for sure. This is wrong. Something feels so wrong. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“I told you, Chiquita. I told you something wasn’t right!” Jorge reminded.
Cozy’s phone vibrated against her leg on the piano bench, making her glance down at it. The number was unavailable, but with Finn missing…
She snatched it up and answered, “Hello?”
“Cozy? It’s Finn.”
Oh, thank God. Relief washed over her as she gripped the phone and closed her eyes. “Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I just wanted to tell you I love you—”
Cozy sat up straight. Now that she knew he was okay, she was annoyed. How dare he call her up now and tell her he loved her? Men!
A sharp crack, sounding strangely like a punch, reverberated in her ear.
Her stomach took a nosedive. She slid out from the bench and moved away from Winnie, whispering into the phone, “Finn?”
“I told you what I’d do—” someone hissed angrily just before a bell rang, drowning everything else out.
She lifted the phone from her ear and listened closely. Was that coming from Miss Marjorie’s across the street?
Her spine went rigid, a trickle of fear seeping into her belly. “Finn, what the hell’s going on?” Why would he be at Miss Marjorie’s? “Finn, where are you?”
“Cozy! I love you—!” he bellowed into the phone again, just before it went dead.
Winnie was right. Something was very wrong here. She looked to her friend, trying to stay calm and keep everyone as safe as possible. “Can you do me a favor, Winnie?”
Winnie cocked her head, her eyes worried. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just don’t feel very well.” Cozy placed a hand on her belly and winced. Winnie had small children and a husband to take care of—no way was she going to endanger her.
“Can I get you something to settle it?”
“The crowd’s getting restless. Can you man the battleship and get things started while I make a trip to the bathroom?”
Winnie’s expression went from worried to petrified. “I don’t know the first thing about the recital, Cozy. I can’t play the piano!”
Cozy grabbed Winnie’s hands and squeezed them, closing her eyes before letting go and snapping her fingers. “You can now. Just sit down and your hands will do everything that needs to be done. Jorge can tell you everything you need to know while the recital’s going on. He knows where everyone belongs and all the marks they need to hit, don’t you, Jorge?”
Jorge sat up on his haunches and eyed her. “I do, but I don’t understand. You were fine a minute ago—”
She placed a hand over Jorge’s muzzle. “It came on suddenly. Now, I’m counting on you. Please.” She husked the word out.
Winnie grabbed at Cozy’s arm, but she patted her hand. “I have to go…to the bathroom, Winnie. I have to.” She didn’t bother waiting for Winnie to protest again, she took off running toward the kitchen, grabbing a stray coat on a rack as she went, her heart throbbing in her chest.
She ran for the front door to the center, stumbling in the darkened lobby, trying to see through the sleet coming down at a rapid rate just outside the big picture window toward Miss Marjorie’s.
Visibility was low as she peered out, unable to catch a glimpse of much of anything.
She pushed her way out the door just as she heard the chords of the recital strike up the opening song on the piano.
The moment Cozy opened the door, harsh wind blowing at her with chilly arctic lashes, someone grabbed her around the waist and hauled her to them.
When she struggled to free herself, she felt the hard butt of a gun jammed into her ribs—and then she saw Finn just a few yards away to her right, rising to his feet in a pool of dark shadows, still dressed in his ‘70s outfit.
“Cozy! Don’t move!” were the first words he yelled, the first sound she heard.
The second was the sound of a bullet whizzing from the gun and the sick sound of Finn’s flesh ripping as the slug hit him.
Chapter Nine
“FINN!” SHE SCREAMED so loudly her ears vibrated with the shrillness.
Finn careened sideways, hitting the corner of the brick exterior of the center before disappearing around the side of the building.
He’d been hit. Oh, God. Cozy’s heart began to throb painfully in her chest—fear and panic almost strangling her.
“Shut the fuck up! If I hear a sound come out of your mouth—a single sound—I shoot!” the man behind her hissed.
She looked around the now deserted parking lot as her captor’s hold on her became tighter. He grabbed something from his jacket pocket before reaching around to shove the item under her nose.
“Put that on your big yap, you freak!” he ordered against her ear.
Freak? What the hell was going on?
Fingers trembling and cold as she took it from him, she realized it was a roll of duct tape.
The distinct sound of a car door closing, made her freeze as her pulse pounded in her ears. She heard footsteps and a child giggling in the distance, making her think it was someone late to the recital.
Cozy wanted to scream out, but the gunman gave her a harsh reminder when he rammed the gun into her side again. No way would she risk a small child’s safety.
“Not a sound or I pull the trigger. Put the tape on now or I’ll blow you wide open and the hell with anyone who sees me do it!”
Obviously, whoever this was, he was balls to the wall—ride or die—which made him that much more dangerous.
She ripped a piece of the duct tape from the roll with her chattering teeth and pressed it to her trembling lips.
“All the way around your head, too,” he ordered in a rasp.
She did as she was told while tears began to fall from her eyes. Then he began to drag her away from the building and toward the park across the road, her heels scraping along the slippery ice as her mind raced.
Who was this and what the hell was going on?
He finally let her go, throwing her to the ground with such force, she didn’t have time to brace herself before her head slammed into the park bench where the seniors liked to sit beneath the big pecan tree and watch the ducks.
Cozy’s harsh grunt of pain was muffled by the duct tape—and that was the second she realized she couldn’t stop time. Not if she couldn’t recite the spell.
Now panic began to set in along with cold, ugly fear as she stared down the barrel of the gun, held by a man in a ski mask, his eyes eerie slits behind the knit material. He was going to kill her and she didn’t even know why.
But there was movement behind him, a hulking figure who, as it moved in closer, proved to be Finn.
Finn hurled himself at the man’s back with a roar, grabbing the hand that held the gun and twisting it until the gunman screamed his rage.
Cozy immediately ripped the duct tape from her mouth and skittered backward, grabbing the edge of the bench to drag herself upward, only to slip on the now-crunchy grass and fall, cracking her chin on the hard wood, making her teeth slam together with a jolt.
Her chin spilt open, blood dripping from it as she lost her shoes, trying to scramble upward.
The wind howled in her ears and the stinging ice blinded her vision. So much so that she lost track of Finn and the gunman for a moment—until she heard Finn growl as another shot was fired.
Oh God, Finn! No, no! It couldn’t end this way. She didn’t know why, she didn’t know how, but she finally understood, there was something much bigger going on and she didn’t want to miss the chance to tell him she still loved him, too.
Determined, she dug her nails into the bench and hauled her frozen body upward, scanning the park for Finn, her ears peeled.
“Cozy! Run!” Finn hollered, just before she managed to catch sight of them tumbling down the hill toward the pond in the park.
She raced after them, her feet now bare, slipping and sliding the entire way down the small slope until she heard a splash and the harsh thwack of flesh meeting bone.
More water splashed and the sound of grunts continued as they struggled for the gun.
Steady on her feet again, she’d just made the water’s edge when she tripped on something—maybe one of the rocks set in groups along the grass. Cozy crashed into the water, hitting the ice-cold pond with a yowl and dunking under the surface.
As she fought her way to the top, she struggled out of the cumbersome jacket she’d grabbed, pushing upward, reaching the surface with a gasp for air to find she was mere feet from Finn and the gunman.
In that instant—in that horrifying second before the masked man managed to shove Finn out of the way and point the gun at her—Finn stumbled and the gun went off.
As though in slow motion, the bullet ripped from the mouth of the gun and headed straight for her.
Finn screamed, “Nooo!” milliseconds before he jumped like his feet had springs in front of her to shield her from the impact.
But that was when, without thought, without even a second’s hesitation, she had already barked out on a raw scream, “Cease time and motion, cease them now! Thwart all movement, do not allow!”
Knowing she had to move fast in order to keep from toying with the earth’s natural movement for too long, she forced her horror and panic to the back of her mind, willed her frozen limbs to cooperate and snatched the bullet from the air where it had stopped inches from her face.
Beads of water lingered all around her, mingled with the harsh nail-like sleet, but she pushed her way past it and snatched the gun from the gunman’s hand, her fingers shaking as she gripped it tight.
Cozy almost turned back around in order to face him, gun to his forehead, but instead she gave him a hard shove, leaving him at an awkward angle, preparing his immobile body to plunge into the water the moment she reversed the spell.
Her teeth chattering, her eyes fixed on the gunman, she called out, “Undo this spell, undo it well!”
Simultaneously, water shot up from behind her where Finn fell into the pond and in front of her where the masked man toppled sideways and splashed into the pond with a howl.
The cold water numbed her legs, but she held the gun until he resurfaced and then Cozy shouted, “Don’t move a goddamn muscle or I’ll shoot your eyeballs right out of your head!”
“You stupid bitch!” he screamed, the rage in his voice chilling her far more than the water could.
The sound of Finn splashing around suddenly stopped, and then she felt the water move as he came up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Give me the gun, honey.”
But Cozy shook uncontrollably. “The. Hell. This animal almost knocked my teeth out and he almost killed you. I’m not giving you the gun, but I will give him a bullet right up his ass!”
“Donovan!” someone shouted as bright floodlights from every possible angle shone down on them and the sound of heavy feet thundered in the distance.
“Over here, Pembroke!” Finn yelled back.
Suddenly, there was a swarm of men dressed in black, rushing into the water to grab the gunman, dragging him out while he screeched his protests.
“Damn, buddy,” Finn said on a chuckle. “Can’t tell you how glad I am to see you lot.”
A bulky man whistled. “Sorry it took so long to get here, man. This night’s been crazy. We had a pair of eyes on you and then we lost you. Thank Christ Orson spotted you and tipped us off.”
Thank Christ Orson spotted you…
That was when the impact of what she’d just done—what had just happened—hit her. Hit her hard. Cozy crumpled against Finn, letting him wrap his arms around her and scoop her up.
He carried her from the water where some of the men had blankets ready to cover them both. But Finn didn’t let her go. Instead, he tucked her closer, cinching the blanket around her and carrying her toward the center.
People had begun to gather by the center’s door, their eyes astonished as Finn parted the crowd and brought her inside. “Jesus, you scared the hell out of me, honey,” he muttered, pressing his lips to her forehead.
The strong beat of his heart against her palm, his muscled arms around her, soothed Cozy.
Winnie, Jorge, Calla and the seniors came rushing at her all at once as Finn sat down on an armchair in the lobby and cradled her in his lap.
Jorge pressed his two front paws to Finn’s knees and moaned, “Aye, senorita, thank the goddess you’re all right!” he said, nudging the fingers she used to scratch his nose.
“Oh my God, Cozy! What the hell happened?” Winnie asked, kneeling down to wipe the water from her eyes with the sleeve of her beautiful silver dress.
Clive, his costume still blinking, passed forward a towel, his weathered face riddled with concern. “Give the girl some room to breathe, folks! Let my girl breathe!”
But Cozy didn’t want to breathe. She wanted answers. Struggling to sit up in Finn’s lap, she shuddered a violent shiver when she saw the bloody spot where the bullet had hit his shoulder, but it didn’t appear to bother him at all.
Pointing to it, she asked, “What the hell was all that about?”
A large man, probably one of the largest Cozy had ever seen, slipped through the crowd gathered around them and grinned down at her. “Donovan, Jesus and hell, boy! We got ‘em now, though. Nice job!”
Finn shook his head on a laugh. “It wasn’t me, it was Cozy.”
Hold the phone. “Who the hell are you?” she asked the brick wall of a man.
“Oh, sorry, ma’am. Pembroke. I’m Austin Pembroke. I work with Finn. Sort of…” He stopped short and took a look around the room as all eyes waited expectantly.
God, he was enormous—at least six-five, all muscle and hard edges wrapped up in sopping-wet black jeans and an equally wet black turtleneck.
The giant of a man hitched his square jaw toward the kitchen. “Can we talk?”
Finn nodded, but he didn’t look too happy about it. “We can.”
Pembroke began to walk toward the kitchen, his big booted feet announcing his size. “Bring Cozy, too,” he said over his shoulder.
“Hold on there, Jailbird,” Gus said, poking a finger in Finn’s chest. “You ain’t takin’ my girl nowhere. She’s gonna catch her death if she doesn’t warm up and I don’t know what all just went on out there, but it’s clear she ain’t safe with the likes of you.”
Finn set her down and slid off the edge of the chair, towering over Gus. He clamped a hand on Gus’s shoulder with a smile. “My friend, I’d give my life for her. Swear it on my mother’s peach pie. Promise, I won’t hurt your girl.”
Cozy reached out and cupped Gus’s chin with a shaking hand, smiling at his crooked halo and ludicrous angel costume made from an old flannel sheet. “It’s okay, Gus. I promise. When I’m done, I expect to hear all about the recital. Deal?”
Gus grumbled, but he moved out of their path and let them head toward the kitchen.
The second they hit the ceramic tile, Cozy forgot about how cold she was and her bloody chin. She shoved a finger under Finn’s nose. “What the hell just happened? Who would want to kill me and what does it have to do with you, Fugitive?” Though somehow, that title didn’t feel appropriate any longer.
Pembroke held a hand up. A very large, very broad hand. “May I?”
Finn gave him a curt nod as water dripped down his face, leaving a puddle at his feet.
Pembroke handed Finn a towel before saying, “Like I said, I’m Austin Pembroke, and Finn and I work together. We’re part of something called The Coven of The Blade. Very few know of our existence, not even our ruler, Baba Yaga. Fewer still can identify us. We’re a secret society of men and a couple of women who protect the paranormal—witches, specifically. Sometimes a vampire or two, or a werewolf, if the need arises. Finn’s been an active brother for most of his adult life.”
Cozy
’s mouth fell open, making Finn cough as he wrapped the towel around his neck and pulled ice from the freezer, putting it in a Ziploc bag. The blade of the what?
“The what?”
Pembroke smiled at her, quite handsomely in fact. “The Coven of The Blade, ma’am. So here’s what happened, and why Finn did what he did when he left you the night of your big soiree. He didn’t want to, but when you take an oath, you gotta do what you gotta do. It was the honorable move.”
Tightening the blanket around her, she fought another shiver, her jaw aching. “So how does this relate to some complete nut trying to kill us?”
Pembroke crossed his arms over his enormous chest and winced. “There’s this thing called The Executioner’s List. In essence, it’s a list of witches who have unusual powers that can be stolen for nefarious purposes. It surfaced about a year and a half ago.”
Finn handed her a cup of steaming coffee she gratefully wrapped her icy fingers around then busied himself patting her hair dry with a kitchen towel and handing her the bag of ice for her chin.
Cozy gazed up at Pembroke and shook her head, taking the cautious route. “Okay, still don’t know what that has to do with me.”
Pembroke’s eyebrow rose. “Well, you can stop time, can’t you?”
“Yeah, Cozy,” Finn chimed in, his eyes narrowing in playful accusation. “Can’t you?”
She looked down at her bare feet with guilty eyes. “No one’s supposed to know about that.”
Finn tipped her chin upward. “Well, someone found out, honey. Someone who knew before me.”
“I’m sorry…I wanted to tell you— I thought about telling you—but then I thought I should discuss it with Baba Yaga because—”
Finn thwarted her efforts to explain by pulling her close to his side and letting his chin rest atop her head. “It’s okay. We can talk about your secrets later.”
Pembroke leaned back against the refrigerator, almost dwarfing it. “Anyway, this List became really active just recently. Someone was offering up enormous sums of money to hunters, paranormal and human alike, to kill the people on The List. They do the killing, and the Executioner, if you will, pays them for their services, no questions asked as long as he collects the desired power from the dead subject. We’ve been at a loss for months about who this Executioner is. He’s a damn wily son of a bitch who obviously doesn’t want to get his hands dirty. We’ve had some of the best and the brightest out there, trying to crack this thing. That’s where Finn came in. He was our cover.”
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 46
