Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6)

by Lori Drake

  “I’m sorry, Christopher. I wasn’t thinking about—”

  A quiet squeak of a couch spring reminded Chris that they weren’t alone. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “As long as we’re on the same page.”

  Cathy’s eyes lingered on his, but then she nodded and resumed her seat.

  “Where’s Itsuo?” Chris asked, suddenly realizing there was less of an audience in the room than there should’ve been.

  “He left when Justin got here. And before you ask, Justin’s doing a perimeter check,” Amber said.

  Nodding, Chris stepped around the coffee table and dropped onto the other end of the couch. Glancing down at his phone, he found a single message waiting for him.

  Joey: Tracking down a lead, be there soon as I can.

  That was it, sent over an hour ago, with no follow-up. Chris wondered what the lead was and why it was taking so long, but she was with Harding so… whatever it was, it couldn’t be too dangerous. In theory.

  He set his phone face down on his leg and glanced between the witches. “Where are we on the whole healing my aura thing?”

  Amber shifted uncomfortably in her seat while Cathy picked up her tea again.

  “We’re still working on it,” Cathy said. “Patience, child.”

  “Meditation might help replenish your energy faster,” Amber suggested. “But it won’t stop the leaking.”

  Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t have time for this. There’s a killer out there. Though, speaking of which…” He dropped his hand and looked to Cathy. “Detective Harding—you know, the one who worked my case back in San Diego? The case has been transferred to him. Naomi…” He didn’t know quite how to tell the woman what’d happened to her former apprentice.

  Cathy took a bracing sip of tea before lowering the cup to the saucer. “Spit it out, child.”

  “There’s something wrong with her body. Numerous somethings, actually.” He described the deformities as gently as he could. By the time he was done, Cathy’s teacup had begun to rattle against its saucer. Frowning in sympathy, he leaned over and took them from her, setting them on the coffee table before continuing. He spared a glance for Amber along the way. She looked a bit green, one gloved hand resting at the base of her turtleneck-covered throat. Why on earth was she still wearing gloves?

  He shook the question off and addressed them both with his next question. “Do you know of any magic that can do that?”

  Amber shook her head slowly, but Cathy’s eyes grew distant, not unlike they did when she engaged her aurasight, but this time she was just staring across the room. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder to ground her, lest she get completely lost in thought.

  “Fleshcraft. The knowledge is lost to us now, but there are occasional references to it in… certain texts.” Her eyes flicked in Amber’s direction.

  “Oh god.” Amber started to lift her hand to her mouth, but dropped it in her lap instead. “Tell me you don’t have any of those texts.”

  Cathy’s lips flicked in a wry smile. “One or two.”

  Amber’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “Lalala, can’t hear you…”

  “If you didn’t want the answer, you shouldn’t have asked the question.” Chris snorted, shaking his head. “What certain texts are you talking about? Some sort of black magic thing?”

  “Magic is neither black nor white, child. There are more shades of gray than you can possibly imagine. It’s the heart of the witch that determines whether it is used for good or ill. Consider a spell meant to render a target unconscious. It might be used in love, to allow someone to rest.” She gave him a significant look. “But if that someone is behind the wheel of a moving automobile…”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. But fleshcraft? Really? How gray is that?” Chris asked.

  “When wielded as a weapon, rather dark. But consider this: a clubfoot child whose malformed bones and flesh are molded into a pristine foot. Such a mercy would change the course of their life.”

  Chris rubbed his stubbly chin. “Okay, you have a point. But whatever happened to Naomi wasn’t a mercy. It was torture. If you could’ve seen her face…” He shuddered and closed his eyes, but the memory was right there waiting for him like a boogeyman in a dark closet. He snapped his eyes back open again, choosing the light. “There was nothing wrong with Naomi. They twisted perfectly good flesh and bone, but why?” He mulled the question over himself, then snapped his fingers. “Oh, and there might be a pattern emerging. Rachel went missing three days before Naomi, and Naomi was missing for three days before her body was found…”

  Amber blinked. “That means the killer could be looking for another target, right now. Tonight.” She rocketed to her feet, eyes snapping to Cathy. “We need to tell Ethan immediately.”

  “Agreed,” Cathy said, likewise rising. Chris began to join them, but Cathy waved for him to remain seated. “Save your strength, child. I have a feeling you’re going to need it.”

  Joey walked into Cathy’s cozy kitchen and straight into Chris’s arms. The lingering hint of gingerbread in the air only reinforced the grandma’s kitchen sort of vibe the place had. The combination of that and the warmth of her mate’s arms around her was instantly soothing. She breathed deep, inhaling her mate’s familiar scent and reveling in it after what had been an extremely long afternoon and evening. Even her wolf hummed in contentment.

  “Did you get to see Harding before you left the hospital?” Chris asked, giving her a warm squeeze.

  She’d called and filled him in on what had happened while she was cooling her heels in the ER. No one would tell her anything about Harding’s condition, but just when she was about to call Ben and see if he could pull some strings, a nurse had come to tell her the detective was asking to see her.

  “Yeah. He’s out of commission for now, but going to be okay. Broken leg, mild concussion. They were worried about internal bleeding, but all the scans came back clean. The nurse said he was pretty lucky. Anyway, we can both look forward to giving him a stern lecture about playing in traffic.”

  A soft chuckle rumbled beneath her ear. “Good.” He kissed the top of her head, then addressed the big wolf lurking behind her. “You must be Quinn.”

  Joey didn’t so much pull away as shift aside, threading an arm behind Chris’s back. “Quinn, this is Chris, my fiancé and co-Alpha.”

  Quinn approached and put out a hand. “Quinn Bartlett. Nice to meet you—circumstances aside.”

  “You too.” Chris accepted the handshake. The two alphas made steady eye contact over it, and the shake went on a little longer than it probably should have. “Funny, I didn’t know you were in the area.”

  “My territory is well outside yours, Alpha.”

  Quinn’s tone was polite, but his chosen words had an edge to them that made Joey’s wolf bristle. Chris, however, remained cool as a cucumber. Joey didn’t sense even a hint of power from him, though she could easily sense Quinn’s from a few feet away. Clearing her throat to put an end to the stare-down, Joey looked up at Chris, studying him.

  “You look better. Did you get some sleep?”

  “Yeah, but…” He glanced at Quinn, then back to Joey. “We can talk about it later.”

  “Actually, if it’s possible, I’d love a shower,” Quinn said, reminding Joey that he was filthy from rolling around in that gross alley.

  “I’m sure Cathy won’t mind. Speaking of which, where is she?” She leaned away from Chris a little, looking around the otherwise empty kitchen.

  “She, Amber, and Justin have their heads together in the library,” Chris said, then shifted his attention to Quinn and gestured toward the archway leading into the rest of the house. “Through there and hang a left. Second door on the right. Towels are in the cupboard by the sink.”

  With a murmured thank you, Quinn headed that way. Joey grimaced at the sight of his filthy back as he walked away. “Do you want me to throw your clothes in the washer while you clean up?” she offered, but he just
waved a hand and kept going.

  Chris bent down until his lips were close to her ear. “I’ll wear a towel around for you, all you have to do is ask.”

  Snorting, Joey swatted his stomach lightly. “I’d appreciate the view more without the towel.”

  “Well, I’m not strutting around in the buff in front of Aunt Cathy. That’s gross.”

  Joey laughed, letting him guide her to the kitchen table and into a chair. “But a towel is better? Weirdo.” She waited while he pulled another chair around so he could sit facing her, knee to knee, then asked, “Who’s Amber?”

  “Spy for Ethan, probably.” Chris leaned back and pushed his fingers through his hair, scrubbing lightly at his scalp and leaving his dark locks sticking up every which way. “So, remember that ghost that attacked me last night?”

  It felt like ages ago. Was it really only last night? “Yeah, of course. What about him?”

  “It turns out that’s why I’ve been so tired and headachy today. He damaged my aura.”

  Joey stiffened in her chair, leaning over and putting a hand on his knee. “What? Are you okay? I didn’t even— Did you know that’s possible?”

  “No, I had no idea.” He covered her hand with his, picking it up and turning it over to trace the lines on her palm with his index finger. “Cathy says I’m leaking mystical energy. That’s what she and Justin and Amber are working on, trying to figure out how to fix it.”

  Eyes stinging, Joey struggled to breathe around the sudden tightness in her chest. Why was it every time she turned around, it seemed like she was in danger of losing the one person she needed more than—than anything? “I’m canceling the bid on the dance studio.”

  Chris’s finger stilled and he looked up in confusion. “What?” It was an abrupt subject change, even for her.

  “Sorry, I just… My priorities have been out of whack. I meant it when I said that I needed something stable in my life, but I don’t. I mean, I do. But I have it. It’s you. Provided I can keep you safe from all the shit that seems to want to kill you.”

  His lips twitched, tugged into a faint smile. “You don’t have to give up your dream for me, babe. I’d never ask that.”

  “I’m not. It’s still your dream too, right? And it’ll happen when we’re both ready.” She turned her hand back over in his and squeezed his fingers. “Just like the wedding. And kids.” His brows went up, and she flapped her free hand. “Eventually.”

  “Okay. I can live with that.” He kissed the back of her hand, then enfolded it in both of his. “So, back to the latest thing trying to kill me… Cathy wants me to stay close.”

  “We can stay here tonight. That’s fine. I can run home and get some clothes, or we can have Lucy bring some when she comes into town for work. If she hasn’t already. Shit, what time is it anyway?”

  He glanced at the wall clock. “Just after nine. But I’m not sure you staying with me is a good idea.”

  “I’m not going home without you. Especially not when you’re injured.” She gave him a level look and yanked her hand from his when he tried to bring it to his lips again. “Chivalry ain’t getting you anywhere here, pal.”

  “Just hear me out, love. The coven’s going to ground. After finding out about the three day thing and Naomi’s… condition… they’re spooked.”

  She eyed him. “Still waiting for the why I can’t stay here part.”

  “Well, you can if you really want to, but I’m not gonna be here. I’m going with Cathy and Amber to the safe house.”

  Joey considered this, rubbing the palm of her suddenly clammy hand against her jeans. “And Ethan’s going to bust a gut about you being there. If I go too, he’ll shit kittens.”

  “Bingo.”

  “I don’t like this. I really don’t like this. What if something happens, and I don’t know where you are?”

  “I’ll send you the location when we get there. Failing that, you can always track my phone. That should get you close enough to sniff me out.”

  Chewing on her lower lip, Joey nodded slowly even though she wasn’t quite fully on board with this plan just yet. Silence settled between them, and Chris held his hand out again. Joey took it and pressed her cheek to his palm, closing her eyes.

  Minutes passed, and at some point she migrated from the chair to his lap, curled up with her head on his shoulder. And that was right where she was when Quinn came back from his shower, clearing his throat to announce his arrival.

  “I’d offer to wait outside, but it’s kind of cold,” he said.

  Joey lifted her head from Chris’s shoulder and looked past him at the burly wolf who stood in the archway, bare-chested but thankfully wearing his uniform pants. “Shirt’s a goner, eh?” she said.

  “Salvageable. I washed it in the sink and hung it up to dry.” He shrugged, thick muscles rippling with the motion.

  Joey’s eyes wandered down his chest, distracted by the slight discoloration of his skin where the tranquilizer dart had impacted from close range. Something about it tugged at her memory, but it took her a moment to place it.

  “Holy shit,” she whispered, eyes widening.

  Chris muttered, “I don’t mind if you ogle the guy, but do you have to be so obvious about it?”

  Joey swatted his shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not ogling him. But didn’t Naomi have a mark like that on her back?”

  Forehead wrinkling, Chris twisted in his chair to better see Quinn, tensing when he saw what Joey had. “On the back of her shoulder, yeah.”

  “She was tranq’d. That’s why magic didn’t do her any damn good.”

  “Who’s Naomi?” Quinn asked, leaning against the archway.

  “A friend,” Chris said. “She was kidnapped and magically tortured before her body was dumped in the sound.”

  Quinn’s dark brows drew together in a frown. “Wow, that sucks.”

  “She wasn’t just magically tortured,” Joey said. “Someone physically altered her body with magic. What was it your buddy said, Quinn? ‘She’s going to make me better?’” An idea was forming, and Joey didn’t like it, but she couldn’t simply cast it aside either.

  “Jordan couldn’t have had anything to do with that,” Quinn said, his frown deepening.

  “Yeah, but you said he wasn’t acting like himself. That he’d never talked to you the way he did tonight. Does he know you’re a lycanthrope?”

  Quinn nodded.

  Joey met Chris’s questioning eyes. He hadn’t quite caught on to her line of thinking, probably because he didn’t know the whole story. She’d only hit the high points with him on the phone from the hospital. “His friend Jordan has a serious inferiority complex when it comes to Quinn.”

  “What guy wouldn’t?” Chris muttered under his breath, but his face went slack when he finally caught up to Joey. “No way.”

  Joey tilted her head and shrugged a shoulder. “Our gifts are magical in nature…”

  “Not all witches are wolves, but some wolves are witches…” Chris said.

  “Um… would you two care to share with the rest of the class?” Quinn asked, a faint growl creeping into his voice.

  Joey and Chris answered in sync, eyes still locked. “Someone’s trying to turn witches into lycanthropes.”

  16

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Quinn said, shaking his head slowly in the wake of Chris and Joey’s mutual revelation. “Jordan’s not a witch.”

  Chris studied the big guy from across the room, taking his measure. “Wouldn’t be the first time someone made a promise they couldn’t keep to get someone to do what they wanted.”

  “Like smuggle wolves out of an animal sanctuary,” Joey added.

  “But why would they even need wolves?” Quinn asked.

  “We’re just theorizing here, but… that wolf essence has to come from somewhere. We all have that piece of the wild in us,” Joey said.

  Chris nodded and rubbed Joey’s back idly, glad for her presence in his lap. It gave him comfort, made
him feel stronger, and he’d need that strength for what lay ahead. When she pulled away a moment later, he released her reluctantly, gazing up at her where she stood.

  She held out a hand. “Come on, let’s go run this by Cathy.”

  Taking her hand, Chris bit back a groan as he pushed to his feet. His two-hour nap hadn’t given him a ton of juice; his strength was already waning. Gradually, but still waning. He tried not to think about what was happening to him as Joey led him past Quinn and out of the kitchen. He felt more than heard Quinn fall in behind them. Whenever he got close to the guy, Quinn’s wolf got riled up, perhaps sensing another alpha male. Chris’s remained quiet, but now that he was thinking about it, the furry bugger had been quiet all day.

  You okay, buddy?

  There was no answer, of course. His wolf wasn’t really its own consciousness, just a piece of him he kept locked away more often than not.

  They crowded into Cathy’s small library with its floor to ceiling bookcases lining the walls and the table in the center stacked with tomes that’d been pulled for research of one nature or another in the last few days. Cathy and her research assistants looked up when the wolves piled in. Straightening, Amber folded her arms, tucking her gloved hands under them and studying them with a look of wary curiosity.

  Chris leaned against a bookcase while Joey filled them in. By the time she finished, Amber’s brows looked like they wanted to join her hairline. Justin seemed intrigued, and Cathy leaned on one elbow and chewed thoughtfully on one of her reading glasses’ arms.

  “What do you think?” Chris prompted after a lengthy pause.

  Cathy sat back in her chair with a sigh. “No one really knows the true origins of lycanthropy. There are legends, which I’m sure you’re familiar with, but whether your people evolved alongside humans and witches or were created at some point by witches is something no one really knows. I don’t know if what you propose is possible, but I believe it’s possible someone might get it into their head to try.”