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

by Lori Drake

  Amber snorted. “Yeah, no shit. That teller made him the most notorious criminal of Underground Seattle. Everyone that takes a tour knows his name… Franklin Boatwright, infamous bank robber.”

  Adam cleared his throat quietly. “I hate to be that guy, but… can we maybe get back to looking for Dawn?”

  “I think it’s a good idea if we get Chris topside first,” Joey said.

  Chris’s first impulse was to say no. Now that Franklin had showed him his story, surely he would back off. But if not, all he’d be doing was hindering the search. Dawn deserved better, as much as the idea of sitting out pained him. He rubbed his chest, where a phantom ache lingered.

  “Joey’s right,” Chris said, once he’d reconciled himself to sitting this one out. “I think I can find my way back on my own. You go on.”

  Joey took his hand and pulled him in the direction they’d come from. “Veto.”

  Even Adam didn’t object to the group seeing Chris safely to the surface before continuing. He stood in the doorway of the hidden entrance in the bookstore’s basement, watching them head back down the tunnel until he couldn’t see Amber’s magical light orb anymore.

  “Godspeed and good luck,” he murmured, then shut the door and let himself out of the basement. Once he reached street level, he took out his phone to ask the other teams for a status report. If he couldn’t be down there with them, maybe he could do some topside coordination.

  He just hoped that they could locate Dawn quickly, before whatever foul magic had been turned on Naomi was inflicted upon her too.

  Chris stared down at the blown-up map of Pioneer Square on Jon and Sara’s table, knuckles pressed to the gleaming wood. Dawn had been missing for two days, and they were no closer to finding her than they were when they started. Sure, they’d found all sorts of ways to get into and out of the underground—and hadn’t been arrested for trespassing yet—but other than the occasional whiff of Jordan’s scent in the tunnels, they hadn’t found squat.

  Chris’s worry for his friend was a living, breathing thing inside him, and it squeezed his heart as he tried not to think about how close they were getting to the end of that three-day window. If only there’d been some sort of sign that they were even looking in the right place. The witches’ fancy map was no help. The only witch they’d been picking up was Melinda, and she only cast magic around the house.

  Jon wandered into the dining room with baby Adelaide against his shoulder, gently patting her back. “Any luck?”

  Sighing, Chris shook his head and scratched the four days’ stubble shadowing his jaw. “It’s early, yet.”

  “You look wiped.” Jon pulled out a chair and dropped into it.

  Chris chuckled. “You’re one to talk, bro. But honestly… I’m probably getting as little sleep as you are.” Between his worry for his friend and the weird dreams he’d been having about 19th century Seattle, he’d been spending more time tossing and turning than actually sleeping. He wasn’t sure if any of those dreams were due to the ghost’s influence or his subconscious. At least the aura shield Cathy had cast for him was still going strong, so he wasn’t leaking magical energy and his connection to the moon and his wolf seemed relatively normal.

  The baby finally burped, and Jon shifted her to the crook of his arm. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, but I had an idea. About Colt—or, more specifically, about Leta.”

  Chris swallowed a sigh and looked across the table at Jon again, doing his best to shift mental gears. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, Colt won’t let us put her on the stand, but that’s not the only way to get the DA’s attention. We can go to the DA directly, see if we can get him to drop the charges given just how bad it’s going to make him look if it all goes public. And it’s possible Leta might get off a bit lighter than she would if it were all over the news. The only catch is… we’d have to get her on board somehow. The DA won’t just take my word for it.”

  “Okay. How do you propose we do that?”

  Jon’s lips spread in a slow smile. “By threatening Leta that if she doesn’t go along with it we will subpoena the shit out of her and put her on the stand. Just because Colt won’t let us do it doesn’t mean she has to know that.”

  Chris’s eyes widened. “You are a devious motherfucker. You know that, right?”

  “Ha! Thank you.” Jon sketched a bow. “So, what do you think?”

  “I think I’m glad you’re on our side.” Chris scrubbed his fingers through his hair, pulling at it a bit. “I don’t know if Colt will go for it, but we can try.”

  “Seriously, bro? This isn’t—”

  “How’s the search going?” a feminine voice spoke from the doorway.

  Chris’s head swiveled. He hadn’t even heard Melinda enter, but there she was. “Eh. It’s going. We added a fourth team tonight.”

  Melinda wandered over to the table and looked down at the map, brow furrowed. “What are the different colored lines?”

  “Areas we’ve searched. The ones with a bar at the end are dead ends. Which… is most of them, honestly. The area isn’t exactly pedestrian-friendly anymore.”

  Melinda nodded. “That’s probably why it’s closed off to the public—because it’s dangerous. I hope you’re all being careful. And I do hope you find your friend. It’d be a shame if anything happened to her.”

  The baby chose that moment to begin wailing, and Jon shifted her to check her diaper. “Someone needs a change.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Melinda said, immediately cheering. She walked to Jon and took Adelaide from her father’s arms, beaming down at her. “Come on, buttercup. Auntie Melinda will make you better.”

  It took a moment for the words to sink in, but when they did Chris’s eyes jumped from the map to Melinda’s back as she headed for the exit.

  She’ll make me better. She promised.

  Reeling, he took an involuntary step backward, then called after her, “Wait!”

  She paused, looking back at him with a quirked brow. It wasn’t possible. Was it? Could the witch they’d been looking for have been under their noses the whole time? Could she be the one Jordan said would make him better?

  “Um. Let me do it.”

  Melinda looked down at the baby, then back at Chris, brow furrowed. “You want to change her?”

  “Sure. I mean, I need to learn sometime, right Jor—er, Jon?”

  Jon chuckled, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension that suddenly ran through the room. “Seriously, man, let her do it. She won’t be here forever, and there’ll be plenty of diapers for you to change.”

  Melinda studied Chris from across the room with slightly narrowed eyes. She hadn’t missed his blunder, but her smile returned in full force a moment later. “Well, come on if you like. I’ll show you the ropes.”

  Nodding, Chris walked around the table to join her. “Sure you don’t want a lesson too, bro? Like you said, she won’t be here forever.”

  Jon waved them off and took out his phone, not concerned with all this in the slightest.

  “Guess it’s just the two of us,” Melinda said cheerfully and left the room.

  Chris hastened to follow, keeping up with her easily as she headed for the nursery upstairs. His stomach churned all the way, the thought that his tiny vulnerable niece might have been in the care of a monster this whole time turning over and over in his mind.

  In the nursery, Melinda put Adelaide on the changing table and unbuttoned her little onesie, narrating what she was doing as she removed the old diaper and wiped down the baby’s tiny bottom.

  “Then you just need a little powder… not too much, mind you.” She dashed a little on Adelaide’s butt. “I just love the smell of baby powder. Don’t you?”

  She lifted the bottle to his nose, and though he could smell it just fine he gave an obliging sniff anyway. “Yeah, it’s nice e—”

  Melinda squeezed the bottle and a puff of powder flew out the top, spraying in Chris’s eyes and all over his
face. Some even got in his mouth.

  “Gah!” Blinded, Chris shook his head to dislodge as much of the powder as he could. His eyes watered helpfully, trying to flush the powder away, but it only made things worse. The sting and burn distracted him until he heard the door close behind him. “Melinda?”

  Heart racing, he spun, blinking rapidly and straining to see anything but a white blur. His eyes stung so badly that he couldn’t keep them open for more than a split second. As if sensing his panic, the previously naked and content Adelaide began to wail from the changing table at his back.

  When no further attack came, Chris was forced to conclude that she’d fled. “Shit.” He turned back to the baby, feeling around until he could put a hand on her, rubbing her chest and stomach in an effort to soothe her. “Jon!” he yelled, wiping futilely at his eyes with his other hand. He needed to flush them with water, but he didn’t have any handy. “Jon!”

  The baby continued to wail despite his efforts to calm her in between bellows for her father. He was a hair’s breadth from picking her up and heading for the door himself when said door crashed open with enough force to slam noisily against the wall. Instead, he jumped and spun again, putting himself between his niece and whoever just came crashing into the room.

  “Chris?” Sara said, confusion coloring her tone. “What’s going on? Why did you lock the door?” Her voice grew louder as she crossed the room in a rush.

  “I didn’t. Melinda blew powder in my face and took off. Do you have any water in here?”

  Sara nudged Chris aside, and a moment later the baby quieted, probably lifted into her mother’s arms. “What? Why would she do that?”

  “Water! Please!” Chris fought the urge to rub his eyes, knowing it wouldn’t do him any good.

  Sara took his arm and guided him across the room. “The bathroom’s just across the hall. What happened? What did you say to Mel?”

  “Nothing! But I was on to her, and she must’ve figured it out.”

  “On to her? You’re not making any sense.”

  Quick footsteps thudding on the hall runner heralded Jon’s belated arrival. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s Melinda,” Chris said, still blindly following where Sara led him. “She’s the witch we’ve been looking for.”

  Sara halted sharply. “What? That’s impossible. Mel wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  “She’s not trying to harm them. In her mind, she’s trying to ‘make them better.’ Make them wolves. We need to hurry.” He tugged urgently at her hand, taking a blind step forward with his other hand outstretched in search of a wall or doorway.

  “I’ll see if I can catch up to her,” Jon said, and his footsteps thudded off again.

  Sara resumed the trek across the hall in what Chris could only assume was stunned silence. In the bathroom, he fumbled the tap on and bent over the sink, his eyes still screaming bloody murder as he forced them open and splashed cold water into them.

  Jon returned while he was working on it. “Good news, bad news. The bad news is, she’s gone.”

  Chris groaned. “And the good news?”

  “She took my car. And as you kids are fond of saying, there’s an app for that.”

  A soft feminine snort told Chris that Sara was still in the room. “You’re not that old, darling.”

  Jon grunted. “I’m not that young either. Are you going to be okay on your own with Addie for a little while? We need to track down your cousin and get some answers, and I don’t think Chris should be behind the wheel.”

  “We’ll be fine,” Sara assured him. “Don’t forget, Ben and Maria are here too. And Dad. But I still don’t see how Mel could be involved in this. It must be a misunderstanding…”

  Their voices faded into a quiet murmur while Chris splashed a bit more water in his eyes, eventually groping for a hand towel to dry his face with. He was able to keep his eyes open now, but they still stung and were quite red. His vision was also blurry, which he hoped would pass quickly. The way this night was going, he was going to need all his faculties.

  Chris hung the towel back up and turned to face Sara and Jon. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he lied, stepping over to kiss Sara’s cheek. “Thanks for the rescue, sis. Sorry to have to steal your husband. I’ll bring him back in one piece.”

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Sara said. “Now go, before she gets any more of a lead. Get some answers.”

  They hurried downstairs and through the kitchen to the garage, where they hopped into Sara’s crossover and hit the road. Jon tossed his unlocked phone to Chris and told him what app to pull up to track the car. It didn’t take them long to catch up at all, especially considering Jon’s liberal interpretation of the speed limit.

  Chris used his own phone to call Joey while they tailed Melinda a few cars back. “It’s Melinda,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Naomi, Dawn, everything.”

  She was quiet a moment, likely as stunned as everyone else by the revelation. “You’re shitting me.”

  “I shit you not. Long story short, Jon and I are tailing her. She took off in Jon’s car when she realized I made her.”

  “One sec.” Joey paused, relaying the information to her group and getting everyone headed toward the nearest exit. “Okay, we’re heading topside. Let me know where she stops and we’ll be there ASAP.”

  “Will do.” Chris hung up the phone and leaned his head against the headrest, keeping his eyes on the Jaguar. At least his eyes weren’t stinging quite as bad, and his vision was starting to clear up. He was still wearing baby powder all over the front of his shirt, but at the moment that was the least of his worries. He was probably lucky the baby powder was all she did to him. As a witch, she had a lot more in her arsenal than that. Which led him to believe she hadn’t wanted to hurt him, at least not in a permanent fashion. Maybe they could use that when they caught up to her.

  Melinda took Madison all the way into town from Madison Park. He began to wonder if she was heading for the marina, but then she turned south on 1st—heading straight toward Pioneer Square—and he knew for certain they’d at least been on the right track with their search area. They’d just lacked certain vital information about where exactly Melinda was conducting her vile experiments.

  When Melinda parallel parked the Jag a few blocks from where he and Joey had started their search two nights ago, he cursed inwardly. They’d been so close! But they’d missed something, clearly.

  “I’ve got to keep driving or she’s going to see us,” Jon said.

  “We’re going to lose her in foot traffic if you do.” Chris’s jaw tightened as he watched Sara’s cousin back the car into the parking spot from a few cars’ distance behind her. Traffic in that lane was stopped while she did. “She’s only paying attention to parking right now. I’lll get out now and follow her on foot.”

  “Bad idea, bro… the breeze shifts the wrong way, and she’s going to smell you.”

  “She barely knows me. She’s not going to recognize my scent.”

  “You’re covered in baby powder!”

  He had a point.

  “Find somewhere to park and text me.” Chris got out before his brother could protest further, shutting the door and darting between two parked cars to find a shadowy doorway to stand in. His heart thudded in his chest as he counted to ten, then peeked around the corner. Melinda was shifting the car forward and back, adjusting her parking spot to get close enough to the curb.

  There was something inappropriately amusing about a magic-wielding killer in a stolen car, worried about getting cited for a parking violation.

  He waited while she paid the meter, then stepped out of the doorway to shadow her about half a block behind. She walked south for about two blocks, then stopped at an intersection with a light, waiting to cross 1st. That made things awkward. Chris couldn’t walk up and wait with her, but if he stayed too far behind he risked not being able to cross until the next light cycle and losing her. Before he could make u
p his mind what to do, she lifted her head and sniffed the air, then turned and looked right at him. Her eyes narrowed in recognition.

  Dammit. Jon had been right.

  Melinda darted out into the crosswalk, hurrying across the street during a break in traffic.

  Chris broke out into a run. Luck was on his side, for once. The light changed right as he approached the crosswalk, and he was able to dash across the street without incident. Melinda ran down the sidewalk, pushing pedestrians out of her way, almost seeming to be intentionally trying to knock them down so they’d present obstacles for Chris. He dodged them as best he could, stumbling here and there but not slowing too much. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it and kept his eyes on Melinda, following her into Occidental Square, a tree-lined plaza that was busy during the day with tourists and street vendors, artists and musicians plying their trades. At this hour, it was all but deserted.

  Melinda lit up with a golden magical glow as she ran, and she didn’t even break stride as she twisted and flung a ball of energy behind her. Chris dodged aside and it struck a nearby tree, shaking every leaf but leaving it standing. Melinda skidded to a sudden halt and turned to face him, conjuring an even larger ball of energy between her hands while he bore down on her like a freight train. She flung it at him like a dodgeball, and it flew even faster than the last one. He dodged, but the result was that it struck his shoulder instead of his chest, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.

  The fall hurt more than the magic ball. Chris scrambled to his feet, but when he got there… she was gone. Where the hell had she gone? He spun in a circle, scanning the square, but saw nothing. Walking over to where she’d last stood, he embraced his wolf and sniffed the air, opening his senses to pick up her scent. Once he locked on, he followed it to a narrow alley between two buildings. The alley dead-ended about fifty feet down, and her scent stopped with it. Looking around, Chris frowned. Had she scaled the building wall somehow? Then he looked down, where a manhole cover sat at his feet.