Returned

by Samantha Stone

  Unfortunately for her chances at survival, Zach sat in the other chair. With a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he held out a pad of paper and a pen, while keeping more paper in his lap.

  She merely looked at him. How the hell was she supposed to take the paper when her arms were tied?

  Zach chortled to himself and said something as he rose to move behind her. Knowing he wanted something—meaning he didn’t want to kill her this moment—didn’t make Leila feel much better about having him at her back. Craning her neck, she tried to at least keep him in her peripheral vision.

  He cut the plastic holding her arms together and resumed his seat. This time, when he held out the pen and paper, she took them. Using his own set, he began to write.

  Are you literate?

  Leila stared. Really?

  So the average deaf American couldn’t read at higher than an eighth grade reading level. First, that wasn’t illiterate, and second, being deaf didn’t take away IQ points. When deaf people learn ASL, they’re studying completely separate language from English, making it that much harder for them to read English because it was foreign to them. Schools were getting better, but education for the deaf had a long way to go. She took offense to people assuming she was stupid because she couldn’t hear.

  It wasn’t true—for anyone.

  Imagining her English degree to calm her temper, she wrote a short yes on her pad.

  With a nod, Zach turned to a new page. Where is Mary?

  After everything Mary had done for Leila, and the way her sister finally had the life she deserved, albeit a strange, werewolf-filled one, there was no way in hell Leila would tell Zach where she was.

  Yet if she didn’t tell him, he could go to someone else to find her…and they might give Mary up.

  Why? Leila wrote, hoping to buy herself more time.

  If you tell me, I won’t kill you.

  Leila didn’t believe him. With Zach’s blue eyes and light blond hair, he was the picture of innocence. He was the hero in many ballets, and he looked the part. She’d seen the posters hanging in the studio. The difference now was that he was capable of hitting someone weaker than him in order to kidnap her. No, he won’t let me live.

  Opening her mouth wide, she tried to scream. Either no sound came out, or her cry was without any banshee powers. Zach’s soulless smile simply widened, and he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  She moved to Chicago. I’m sure you can find the airplane tickets as proof. Mary and Raphael had been there recently, and they drove back. It had been Mary’s idea, since she’d always wanted to go on a real road trip.

  If Zach found the plane tickets, maybe it would be enough for him to look for Mary there—while Leila warned her and the pack about what was coming for them. Once she got out of here, wherever this was, she wouldn’t be concerned. The werewolves had defeated enemies much deadlier than humans.

  Only, right now, Leila was weaker than most humans. She’d be harder to kill, but she was in serious trouble in terms of defense, thanks to tied-up legs, an aching face and back, and the inability to hear or say anything.

  The door to the room opened and a large brown dog trotted inside, his patchy tail high. He skirted around Zach’s attempt to swat him away easily, without deigning to give the man a second glance. Leila was his intended target. The dog lay at on her feet and sighed before putting his head on his paws.

  As bad off as Leila was, the poor dog was in worse shape than her. How did he get into this house? He couldn’t live here. If he did, she was willing to bet he’d be as well-groomed as this room had been cleaned and dusted.

  It was spotless.

  When Zach reached down to jerk the animal up from the floor, Leila landed a punch square to his pepper-spray-pink eye. She made sure to press in and up, ensuring maximum damage.

  “Argh!” Zach managed to throw her entire chair back, but he didn’t use his hands. He kicked her in the leg hard enough to draw blood and break bone.

  She flew backward, but the punch of the floor reaching her back never came. Before she could make out how she’d become upright again, Zach disappeared into dust. Having been looking into his face when he vanished, Leila hadn’t seen any panicked expression or fear. The moment he became a human dust bunny, he’d still been smiling, feral satisfaction lighting his eyes. That told Leila her leg was probably broken.

  It made her thankful she hurt in so many other places. As if her body couldn’t register past a certain pain threshold, she hardly acknowledged her damaged shin’s dull throbbing. I won’t think about it until Aiyanna takes a look. Aiyanna was the pack’s healer, and between her and Briony’s witchy potions, Leila didn’t doubt she’d be dancing again tomorrow.

  She was too busy not inspecting her leg, and not watching the dust that used to be Zach that she didn’t see him until he was a few feet in front of her.

  Alexandre.

  Joy, unfiltered and pure, poured from her. If an emotion could have physically lifted her up, it would have. She opened her arms wide, and when he ignored them, dropping to one knee to cut her legs free, her happiness diminished.

  He hasn’t been dead. He’s stayed away from me all these months.

  Alex didn’t want to hug me.

  As if he sensed her distress, the dog leaned against her. She had to use him to stand as Alexandre had moved away as quickly as he’d approached.

  He didn’t look any worse for wear from the time she’d seen him last. Alex had blue eyes with more green than hers, which were framed by thick blond lashes the same color of his shoulder-length curls. In hindsight, Alex did make Zach appear small. For a human to look like him, he’d have to practically live in the gym. He wore clean clothes that didn’t hide his muscles—the dirty smell in the room was coming from the dog. Nothing, to her senses, seemed wrong with him. He’d abandoned her, and he was fine.

  I never thought you were dead, not really, she signed. But I never thought you’d lie to me this way either.

  Stupidly, she’d expected him to say, “I’m sorry.” Instead, he glanced away, grinding his jaw. When he met her gaze, there was none of his usual warmth in his eyes.

  Do you know how Zach disintegrated? he asked.

  Irritated by his change of subject, she shifted her feet to put less pressure on her hurt leg. Now it was protesting with enough impact to take her breath away. Even the sturdy dog wasn’t enough for her to stay standing. For the second time in the past few minutes she fell, fully expecting to land painfully.

  Except Alexandre caught her, effortlessly lifting her into his arms.

  He’d done as much before. Then, Leila had burrowed into his chest, resting her cheek as close to his skin as clothing would allow. None of the intimacy was there now—Alex basically had a not into you anymore flag waving from his proverbial hat. It made her want to cry, which in turn made her want to punch him. How could he go from what they were to this?

  Had he simply gotten sick of waiting for her to touch him like a normal girlfriend could? A painful lump rose in her throat. She’d known she wasn’t enough for him. She wasn’t enough for any normally functioning male.

  What she couldn’t understand was why he would wait until immediately after they professed their love for each other to ghost out of her life. This makes no sense.

  A spell from the Fey, she signed sharply, hoping she was producing a sufficient amount of chill to match his. Even as she let that mask cover her face, she wanted to scream. This isn’t how we should be, a voice in her head cried. This is wrong. You love each other.

  Loved. Past tense. Leila bit her lip but otherwise let no emotion show. She could fall apart later, when Alex wouldn’t know and couldn’t think her pathetic.

  He brought her to another room, a larger one with windows and much more light. The instant he laid her on the plush sofa, the dog wiggled his way between her and the couch back.

  No, I didn’t use a faery spell, he signed.

&nbs
p; The Fey ran le marché noir, or the black market situated in the canals they’d created in the salt pillars underneath New Orleans. There, they sold all sorts of magical artifacts and weapons creatures and humans alike might find useful. Leila was sure Alex could find some sort of turn-enemies-to-dust juice or something like that at le marché noir. It seemed, however, that he’d acquired the spell some other way.

  Witches? she asked. Werewolves and witches didn’t interact much based on what she’d seen, but with Briony’s connections to the pack and her coven, more witches were becoming comfortable enough to hang out at the firehouse where the pack lived. Leila had seen as much during her last couple of visits.

  Which, incidentally, were not often. She avoided the place that used to be Alex’s home; it was too painful a reminder of him.

  Except…he wasn’t dead.

  No.

  While his sign was a mere gentle closing of his first two fingers and thumb, she bared her teeth at him in a grimace. Why did he have her playing this game? She didn’t care how he killed Zach; if he hadn’t taken the human out, she would have died.

  I’m finished with this, she signed angrily. Pain shot up her leg, and she looked without thinking to stop herself. The air left her lungs, and an image of watching dance performances from the audience, yearning to be onstage but unable to use her leg correctly, assailed her. Tears pricked her eyes, not only for herself but for Nina, who didn’t have a healer friend to save her dreams. Please, Aiyanna, fix this for me.

  She wanted to dance now, music or none, until she collapsed from exhaustion. Lying here, still, seemed impossible, even while she had no choice but to remain exactly where she was. She felt her breathing turn ragged. Was this a panic attack?

  I can’t panic in front of Alex. She choked another breath in and understood she couldn’t help that, either.

  The dog’s rough tongue swiped her cheek as Alex’s hand closed over hers. He kneeled beside the couch, concern written across his features in his drawn brow and tight frown. She recognized the expression and used to melt under his care. Now she wished she couldn’t read him so well.

  Because no matter what she thought he felt, it was a lie.

  You need to understand how I killed Zach. Alex appeared worried, but something in his eyes hardened. A muscle in his jaw jumped. I didn’t use something I bought because I don’t need to buy anything. I’m a warlock, Leila; it’s why they took me the night of the Bachelor’s Ball. It’s why I stayed away from you for so long.

  A warlock and a werewolf. How had he kept that hidden from the pack? He could’ve done so much more when they fought the botos a year ago, or when the Fey attacked the firehouse last November. For him to risk those he cared about…but you don’t know. Maybe he’d been a mole the entire time, feeding information to the local float.

  She threw up her breakfast in the exact spot Alex would’ve been if he hadn’t moved so quickly. With the wave of his hand her mess disappeared, and another movement brought a wet towel and a cup of water, which he handed to her. Leila wiped her mouth and drank, pretending not to notice the way Alex had suddenly turned white.

  The dog watched Alex and hung his head.

  You’re that disgusted by warlocks? he asked, appearing strangely vulnerable.

  Leila shook her head. I’m disgusted by someone who would go to such lengths to hide what they are that they’d allow others to get hurt in the process. Including himself.

  I didn’t remember. Genuine hurt shone in the depths of his eyes as he signed. She couldn’t feel remorse for her accusations—she didn’t know anything about him. How could she be expected to judge his character on the man she’d thought he was? Yet his statement explained why he’d never told her something so critical when she’d told him everything she’d kept secret for so many years.

  He glanced to his left, listening to something she had no way of hearing. When he turned back to her, she frowned at him.

  We need to leave before someone finds us, she told him.

  The line of his mouth hardened. You’re in no more danger. As long as you’re with me, nothing will happen to you. At her raised eyebrows, he continued. I’ve masked any sounds we make, and set a spell around this room to distract and lure away anyone who approaches. We’re perfectly safe here until we decide to leave, and then I’ll make sure no one crosses our path until we’re back on the interstate.

  That helped her relax, at least as much as one could relax when their leg appeared to have two knees. She wondered if Zach had something a little more than human in him, after all. Or maybe he was on steroids.

  She should be afraid of Alex, where should was the operative word. Logic told her she should run—except she physically couldn’t run, so she was in real trouble. Instinct, that same instinct that caused Mary and her to let him stay over the very night they met Alex, told her she was in no danger. That night, a drug was slipped into Leila’s drink at a club. He and Raphael had seen it happen and while Raphael questioned the man who tried to hurt her, Alex insisted on seeing her and Mary safely home.

  Furious as she was at him, she trusted that damned gut feeling.

  Where are we? she signed slowly. She didn’t know if this place sounded like the city or the suburbs, but it had a strange smell to it, like hay and flowers. Out the window, all she saw was green grass and a few trees as far as she could see. So they were outside of New Orleans. Just how far away had Zach taken her?

  Near Biloxi, at the house that belongs to senator Rodney Murphy, Alex answered. He continued to tell her about another man who was killed today, one who claimed this senator was her uncle. Sure, Murphy had been her mother’s maiden name, but it was common enough. That coincidence alone didn’t mean they were related.

  How would my family be a risk factor for him, anyway? She remained unconvinced, but her hands shook all the same. It made no sense. They were banshees, but she and Mary had never been directly told what they were. Instead, their mother had regaled them with stories about creatures and humans both good and bad until the week before she died. Leila had always figured her mom simply liked telling tales; it certainly made her happy. Each time she wove a new story for them, she’d flush with excitement, bringing color to her usually too-pale face. The last few years of her life, she’d become more withdrawn, lines appearing over her features that didn’t indicate decades of smiling, and her clothes hung looser than they ever had.

  It was once she’d died that Leila understood her parents’ financial trouble. In hindsight, sitting around the supper table with Leila, her father and Mary when she was home from college, their mother telling tales until they begged for respite, was the only time Leila had seen her smile.

  She told Alex all of this, trying to unravel the scenario with the movements of her hands. As angry as she was with him, she trusted him to keep her and Mary safe, warlock or not.

  At the moment, it was all she could trust him with.

  Alex glanced at the dog, then the door to the room, leading Leila to notice that the animal was trying to tell them something. Her stomach was still roiling, perhaps not so much from her reaction to Alex’s warlock news but from whatever was keeping her from using her voice. Glancing down at her arm, there was a red prick where Zach might have injected her with something.

  Between that and the pain crossing most of her body, she wasn’t reacting quite as quickly as she would have liked to. She and Alex needed to talk, and she didn’t particularly want him to carry her, but it was time for them to go. The sooner she saw Aiyanna, the faster she wouldn’t feel like this.

  When did you get a dog? She’d hardly stopped herself from asking why he hadn’t fed or bathed the poor beast when he answered.

  He found me here. Alex threw up his hands. I don’t know what to do with him, but since he’s been useful, I won’t stop him if he tries to come with us.

  Right after she was healed, they were going to the pet store. They were going to need some serious fur clippers, som
e necessities, and a couple of luxuries she was sure this dog had never been given before.

  You aren’t adopting him with Alex, she reminded herself sternly. You aren’t a couple anymore. He’s just a man trying to keep you from being killed, nothing more.

  Tears pricked her eyes, likely from pain or sheer exhaustion. Pretending he hadn’t been watching her solemnly, she blinked them back and frowned.

  Take me back, please. I need to see Aiyanna. She raised an eyebrow at Alex and gestured to her leg. Unless you can fix me?

  Anger flared in his eyes as he inspected her leg, but he shook his head. My capacities are more limited to destruction. I could try to heal you, but I’m not willing to risk making it worse.

  Alex picked her up, and the dog preceded them as they wove through what must have been a massive house. Alex wasn’t walking slowly, but it seemed to take another hour to make it to the front door, during which the dog would sometimes turn his head in one direction and bear his teeth, probably growling, causing Leila to clench her hands on Alex’s shoulders in fear.

  Of course, every time she realized what she was doing she loosened her grip and leaned away, trying to keep a minute amount of distance between them.

  By the time they reached the car, she’d let herself relax in his grip with her head pressed against his chest. It wasn’t lost on her how much she used to love being this close to him, but her feelings were numbed by the trials of the day. She couldn’t have lifted her head much longer if she tried.

  Gently, Alex placed her in the front seat of a beige Toyota Tercel. She wondered what happened to the cherry-red BMW X6 he used to drive. The dog patiently sat on the ground next to the battered back passenger door, hopping inside when Alex opened the door for him after exchanging a wry glance with Leila.

  She couldn’t help her weak smile, but it didn’t last long. Coming from a city, she recognized that space meant power. This was space, with land stretching out for acres around a huge house so large it made the home she grew up in seem like a trailer. Homes that size meant their owners had money and connections, both of which were dangerous for her. Rodney Murphy might be completely human, which was reassuring, but she wouldn’t underestimate them.