I opened my mouth. Shut it. After two more tries, I managed to say, “Then how do any of them survive?”
“Because of people like me,” Justin said, and his green eyes glowed. “I was warrior born. Not only can I fight, but I like to fight and I’m good at it. I learned offensive arts from the cradle up and a lot of it was instinctive. I just needed guidance. That’s how the warriors are. Without us, they die.”
“And without us…” Colleen interjected, shooting Justin a narrow look. “The warriors aren’t grounded. They lose focus and go on rampages. A witch-born warrior needs a focus. A job. A…mission, if you like. Justin is an independent, so that complicates things for him.”
“You don’t belong to a House, so you don’t have anybody to fight for.”
He shrugged. “In a nutshell. My mother was human. Dad was a witch with Red Branch—”
“Crazy sons of bitches,” TJ muttered.
Justin ignored her. “But he broke away from them when they refused to acknowledge my mother as his wife. They went off on their own. I was born. Things were okay the first few years, but then they were killed. I…”
His voice trailed off and he stared at the wall. Then he shook his head. “Anyway, I didn’t want a House. Never saw the point in them. Bigoted, narrow-minded asses, most of them.”
“You never gave the Road a chance,” Colleen said quietly.
“The Road wouldn’t want me.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m good at what I do.”
“And that is…?”
He flashed me a grin and this one was a little bit wild. “I’m a jack of all trades, darling Kit. Investigator, bounty hunter, bodyguard…among other things. Which leads me to why I’m here.”
I lifted a brow. The man had a flair for drama, I decided.
He paced across the floor, stopping about three feet away. “You showered, so it’s faint. But you bloodied somebody. I can smell it. I wouldn’t connect it to him if I hadn’t had his blood all over me earlier. But there it is—I tracked it here.”
“Bullshit,” I muttered. “You can’t track by scent.”
“It’s not scent,” Colleen said as he opened his eyes and just watched me. “He can track by violence, by the feel of a person’s magic.”
“Exactly.” His smile took on that hard edge again. “And he had your magic all over him. I’d never felt it before until I met you. I’d know it anywhere.”
“So this is about the wolf who got in my face earlier.”
“No. Although judging by the look on TJ’s face, I’m going to assume you all didn’t have a nice, happy little chat.”
“Get on with it,” I said. My hands were sweating, my heart racing.
He reached into his pocket. “I was tracking him anyway. Needed information. I latched on him easy once I caught his bloodscent…and your magic. Followed him home.” He had a piece of paper in his hand now. “We had a discussion. It ended badly. He’s kind of dead now.”
My jaw dropped, but before I could even process that, he held out the paper he held. Automatically, I took it and looked down.
Then, I looked harder.
It was…me.
“What is this?” I asked, my voice shaking minutely.
“You tell me. I’ve been hunting for a friend of his for nearly a week. I finally track Rogers to his hidey hole and the place smells like my quarry, but I can’t find him. Missed him by hours. But I did find this…a picture of you. So you tell me…what is this?”
Justin wouldn’t go into the rest of his case while people listened.
TJ objected.
Colleen gave me a worried stare.
But every time I thought about turning away and just leaving, I had a weird little twist in my gut and that voice shrieked, no, no, no…this is it.
Whatever this was, I needed to hear it. And I was starting to realize that I also needed to help, if I could.
So I left. With a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’d come on a motorcycle. I didn’t have a car, and my driving skills were…questionable at best. TJ might let me borrow one, but if I wrecked it—and that wasn’t just possible, it was highly likely—I’d be working doubles for as long as it took to pay her back.
The idea wasn’t appealing. But then again, I wasn’t too sure about riding with him, either. As he threw a leg over the shiny chrome and black beast, I just stood there and stared.
A knot lodged in my throat. If I got on that thing, I’d have to touch him. He’d be touching me.
“You coming or not? We can’t talk about this here.” He paused and then said the worst possible thing. “You can’t help from here.”
Jerking my chin up, I met his gaze mutinously. “What makes you think I want to? Why should I care about what you have going on?”
A soft laugh escaped him as he stared off into the night. The muted glow from the murky streetlights overhead did little to illuminate his features but I saw him just fine. He had the face of an angel—a fallen one, yeah, but he was still a work of art. Just then, he was somber, serious. “Kit, you’ve got it written all over your face. You can’t help yourself.” Then he looked back at me. “Not any more than I can. It’s what we do. And…you’ll care once I tell you what’s going on. Trust me.”
I hesitated, still. I didn’t like it when people touched me. Not even Colleen or TJ. I’d just now managed to hold still when Goliath patted me on the back with one of his massive hands. Now I’d have to get on the bike…
“Who hurt you?”
I flinched at his gentle, soft question.
Then I strode toward the bike and threw my leg over. “What in the fuck makes you think anybody hurt me?” I demanded.
He didn’t answer.
That was fine.
I’d have a hard time smacking him down anyway. I had to deal with the knot in my throat first.
We rode on the bike for nearly an hour. For the first twenty or thirty minutes, I sat rigid as a piece of steel, keeping as much distance between us as I could.
Justin didn’t say anything, kept his hands on the handlebars of that sleek, shiny bike and the roiling energy of his magic had been pulled in until it was just the barest brush on my skin.
It made it easier to relax—a little—and I let myself start to look around. He hadn’t told me that we’d be leaving Wolf Haven, driving to some point north of the place where I’d found some sort of refuge several years back. At first, I’d thought we were going to East Orlando and my heart had all but jumped into my throat, tension once more tightening my muscles as I remembered my last trip into East Orlando.
I wasn’t ready to go back there.
But then he’d headed off the highway, taking another road, and then another until we were all but lost in the Florida countryside. We probably weren’t more than an hour or so from Orlando—the so-called Theme Park Capitol of the World. The human tourists who came looking for thrills wouldn’t guess how close they were to absolutely nothing. Or maybe they would. After all, half of them went looking for a different kind of thrill.
They went to Orlando, planning a little side trip into East Orlando, hoping to catch a glimpse of a werewolf, maybe one of the werecats. They might venture into one of the charm shops the witches ran and ask for a spell. The most they’d get was a bracelet that would maybe offer some luck to the owner, or memory stone that would help a person remember things they’d forgotten—if the owner was lucky.
They went looking for the newest kind of thrill, only we weren’t new at all. We were older than old. The non-human races had always been here. Witches, weres, vampires…my kind. We’d been living here among humans since the dawn of time. If you asked a vampire, they’d say they were actually the first to walk the earth, but most of the vampires I’d come across were pretentious sons of bitches anyway. Of course they were going to make that kind of claim.
Anyway, the other big thrill in Orlando had nothing to do with the big-eared mouse and everything to do with the big-toothed shapeshifters and other assorted NHs t
hat lived just a few short miles away over in East Orlando. Once, Orlando and East Orlando had actually been one sprawling metropolis, but then the war happened.
Decades ago, we’d been forced out of our dark, disturbing little closets—thanks to some troubling footage of werewolves battling it out on video. There had been a few before that, but nothing conclusive. This, though, had been the result of a months-long investigation by a rather large, very well-funded paranormal investigation group.
The Assembly, our governing body, had decided the time had come and the non-human community was outed. Just like that. The theory had been if we controlled how it was done, it would go better for us.
Too bad you can’t control things like fear and paranoia. Eventually, the fear and paranoia had led to a war between the NH species and the humans. Nearly ten years and millions of lives later, a treaty was reached. Cities like Orlando that were heavily NH populated were split. Nobody outright called it segregation, but it was what it was.
NH children weren’t allowed to go to school with human kids. The government didn’t much care if the NH kids got an education at all, really. There were lukewarm attempts to set up schools in the districts populated by the NHs, but since NHs couldn’t hold any sort of government job and since most humans didn’t want to work in an area where they were outnumbered by the monsters, the schools didn’t last long.
The kids did get educated, but usually by their own—shifter kids educated within their packs or clans, while witches schooled their own young.
We didn’t live in a world where everybody played very well together. Not at all.
“It’s just ahead.”
I managed, barely, not to jump at the sound of Justin’s voice. Peering around him, I looked around, but saw next to nothing. Just trees, more trees, and the strip of road that unfurled in front of us, a busted, broken ribbon of pavement.
It looked rather serene.
It felt anything but.
And the punch of magic in the air was enough to suck the air out of my lungs. As we drew closer, it all but burned my skin.
“What are you protecting in there?” I asked, my teeth starting to chatter in reaction. I had to learn to control that. It couldn’t be wise to let people see how much magic affected me, could it? “All the gold in Ft. Knox?”
“Is there gold there? I bet they moved it out.” He brushed a hand through the air in front of us and just like that, the magic faded away. It didn’t pop the way a lot of wards did; it was just gone. He glanced back at me over his shoulder, his eyes gleaming. “As to what I’m protecting…well, this is home. I don’t want just anybody come by. Call me weird.”
“You’re weird.”
He blinked, then chuckled. “Well, yeah. But I still don’t like unexpected company.”
“So you’ll fry them with magic?”
“You felt all of it, huh?” His voice was thoughtful. “You’re pretty sensitive to magic for somebody who isn’t a witch. Just what are you?”
Useless…weak. Her voice echoed in the back of my mind and my hands tightened. It wasn’t until a few seconds later that I realized I was gripping his waist almost desperately. It took a conscious effort to make myself relax my grip. Still, her voice whispered to me. “None of your business,” I said, battling back that voice. She didn’t matter. None of it mattered now. Right? I was gone. Far, far away and for all they knew, I’d died in the mountains.
A moment of silence passed as he took a turn in the road and then the trees opened up, revealing an innocuous looking cottage. He stopped the bike in front of it and I climbed off so fast, it was a miracle I didn’t end up on my face. Determined to get away from him, I moved toward the house, ready to jump back at the first feel of magic.
“It was the power wards you felt,” Justin said from behind me. “I use quieter ones, too. But the big ones, the strong ones are there to warn people off, without them realizing it. By the time they cross the ones you felt, then they are here for one of two reasons. Either they want something from me, and in that case, they can call. Or they want to make trouble. I’d rather be the one to throw the first punch.”
He had me inside within another thirty seconds and I felt the skitter of more magic dance over my skin. I raked my nails over my arms, wishing I could banish the sensation.
“If you can feel it that much, then you need to learn to shield against it.”
I looked up and met his eyes. “I’m not a witch.”
“Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to be a witch to know how to shield against basic magic—especially if you have magic in your blood, which you do. It’s not my kind of magic, but it’s still power.” He cocked his head, his green eyes intent on my face. “I can show you.”
“Yeah? What’s it going to cost me?”
“Nothing.” He frowned and moved a little closer. “It’s not like it’s that hard for me to show you how to do it. It’s basic shielding and you have magic in you—it should be second nature once I show you how to do it. Why should it cost you anything?”
“Everything has a price,” I said softly.
Something danced across his face. I might be crazy, but it almost looked like sadness. “It shouldn’t,” he murmured. Then he shrugged. “If it will make you feel better, maybe you can show me how much you know about those weapons. I see you carrying them—can you use them?”
I scowled. “What good would they do me if I couldn’t?”
“You’d be surprised at how many people carry things they can’t use.” He smiled, a slow, easy curl of his lips. “I don’t have too many people to spar with. I can always use a partner.”
I lifted a brow at him. “A partner. You want to fight me?”
“Fight?” He chuckled and then shook his head. “No. I want to spar—it’s practice. Surely you are familiar with the idea. Nobody gets hurt—well, not too much. It could be fun.”
Bone breaking—the taste of blood in my mouth. “Oh, dear…Kitasa, you’re so sloppy…” Fun. How could that be fun? “Ah…I’ll think about it.”
I spun away from him and wrapped my arms around my middle, staring around the room. The only word to describe it was spartan. Weapons decorated the walls. Well, that I could appreciate.
“Yeah,” he murmured behind me. His voice was closer.
Reflexively, I whirled, staring at him. Justin just watched me. “You do that,” he said. Then he gestured. “Now. Why don’t you sit? We’ve wasted enough time.”
“I wasn’t the one who decided to go for an hour long ride,” I pointed out, defensiveness bleeding into my voice.
“True.” A faint smile edged its way into his voice as he settled on a chair. I took the couch across from him, nervousness starting to creep through my veins at the look on his face.
I braced myself, uncertain of just what to expect. I didn’t really expect the next question.
“Do you know him?”
Justin held out a disc and it flashed white before projecting the image of a man. Mid-forties, I’d have to say, with one of those comb-overs that fool nobody. White male, brown hair. His eyes were pale, light green or blue, if I had to guess. Heavy in the forehead, soft in the cheeks, in the belly. All over soft, really. But his eyes were…weird.
Off.
“No.” I hadn’t seen him before. I’d remember those eyes. He was the kind of person I’d steer clear of. And if I couldn’t steer clear of him, I’d make sure I had a weapon in my hand if and when I had to be close to him.
“Never seen him, not even once?”
“No.” I shook my head, uneasy at the intensity of his question. Through the semi-transparent image, I focused on Justin’s face. Where are you going with this?
“Somehow, he knows what you look like. Drew a picture of you so close to the mark, I’d swear you either posed for him or he’d known you most of your life.” Justin continued to watch me from the other side of the projected image and the effect was disconcerting, to say the least.
He knows what you look
like.
Fear burned on the back of my tongue. Very few people would know what I looked like, unless they knew me from the bar. If they didn’t know me from the bar, then…
No. He’s not one of hers. He looks all wrong. If he was, you’d be able to tell. He’s too soft.
I silenced that fear as I leaned back onto the couch, keeping my posture relaxed even though what I wanted to do was run. Run, or put my back to a wall and grab one of those weapons. I had a few blades, all of them short enough to comfortably carry, and I could use any of the ones Justin had on his walls—
Calm down. I didn’t have any reason to be this worked up. Not yet.
“I don’t know him,” I said again.
“Damn.” He rubbed his temple.
“Don’t tell me you dragged me all the way down here for that.” My gut twisted. That voice in my head shrieked. It wasn’t the drive—although my skin was still buzzing from the contact. It hadn’t been…unpleasant. For the first thirty minutes, mind-breaking fear had gripped me, but then, slowly, it had faded and I’d started to realize it was…almost nice. Almost like flying, the way he maneuvered the bike.
And his body was warm, strong against mine. Not brutal and cruel. His hands gripped the handlebars, steering the bike. They didn’t hold me pinned—
My hands were shaking as I shoved them through my hair and forced myself to focus.
“Oh, no. You’re not getting off that easy,” Justin murmured.
The tone in his voice had me dragging my gaze back to him.
He watched me, his gaze intent, the lines of his face hard, almost stark in their beauty.
“You see, I have to hunt this monster. You’re a connection, and I think I even understand how. You’re supposed to help me find him. And he knew it. That’s why he ran.”
My jaw dropped open.
“What?”
Misery's Way: A Kit Colbana World Story Page 8
