“There’s a gun lifting in your quadrant, Heath.” Sebastian’s harsh voice jarred Alex away from the center of the room and to the front right, where Heath sat behind the orchestra. In the span of a heartbeat, both Heath and the man who had been raising a weapon aimed at the stage were gone.
“Get them out. I don’t care if they’re innocent or a human sees; get them all out.” Alex spoke as he walked backstage, around to the left wing and to the door that led to house left, right next to the orchestra.
It was a last resort, but it was also the one way anyone could think of that eliminated the danger altogether. Brendon would have to use a substantial amount of energy to keep the humans from noticing a strange man appearing in front of a seat near them and then disappearing a moment later with the person who’d been sitting there. Normally, the task wouldn’t be much of an undertaking; adult minds wanted to forget what didn’t make sense to them, allowing them to focus on things they could comfortably understand.
Children weren’t as easy, and they made up almost half the audience. With their innate curiosity, they’d notice more than any adult and want to hold on to that memory, wishing to analyze something strange rather than simply put it somewhere hidden from their consciousness. Brendon would want a replacement talisman for this, and Alex would happily hand it over.
No one questioned him.
From a back corner, Cael nodded. Lights overhead extinguished, their numbers decreasing even more rapidly when Heath returned from the holding cell the shapeshifters had prepared for them.
“Leave the senator for me.” Alex strode down the far left aisle purposely, his hands twisting the moment the man in question came into clear view. Thick green vines should be curling around Murphy’s wrists and feet right…about…now.
Of course, the man would never let on that something supernatural was happening. He didn’t scream or struggle, but his face grew a dark shade of red.
None of the kids sitting near him noticed.
A few feet before he reached the correct row, a small stack of papers appeared in Alex’s hand courtesy of his Earth abilities and a touch of added magic. He’d seen identical cards on a small table backstage.
“Hey, guys, how would you like backstage passes?” he whispered, handing them out among every child and parent seated around the senator. “You can go meet the dancers.” He caught Aiyanna’s eye across the aisle. “My friend is going to take you. Here she comes!”
“Put a stop to this shit, Alex,” she murmured into her own headset before obediently winding behind the back row of seats to corral the children and their confused-looking parents someplace safe.
The entire time Alex stood one row behind Senator Murphy. At one point, he passed a card straight over the other man’s head. Only when the area was clear did he step over the chair in front of him and sit down, directly next to Murphy.
His hands were claws forced against his armrests, which was exactly where the other werewolf’s gaze stayed.
“No one can see me this way,” he snapped, turning blue eyes onto Alex. Having seen Leila’s family pictures, he instantly saw the resemblance, no matter the shadows swirling around them. This man was Leila’s uncle.
“You should have protected them.” Alex willed the vines to grow thorns. Murphy’s blood dripped onto the floor almost soundlessly, tuned out by pleasant-sounding music the orchestra produced. Ahead of them, Leila danced away from the man who chased her, grinning while women surrounded her, their moves identical except for the male who’d fallen to his knees, appearing lost.
“Instead, you had them killed. Your own family.” Contempt, disgust, was apparent in Alex’s voice, but he didn’t care. His own family had been taken away from him, and this man had chosen to throw away those very beings he should treasure.
He didn’t deserve to so much as breathe. Even the shapeshifter police officers had insisted the humans be brought in alive for prosecution; human prisons were no place for werewolves.
Senator Murphy would never see the inside of a werewolf clan prohibitum either.
“It was either them or me.” The senator sat up straighter, his lip curling as his gaze, too, fell on Leila. He appeared younger than Alex had anticipated, with no lines on his skin and a thick head of hair.
“No one can know the truth about me or my family. Eliminating them cut away the chances of the public learning what I was and what ran in my blood. There would have been no hiding—if scientists knew what I’d become because of one stupid bite, I’d be rotting in a lab somewhere, drugged.”
The thorns grew larger, causing Murphy to choke in a pained breath.
“Like you drugged Leila?” Alex released a bitter laugh. “We have ways of helping out our own when we get caught. No werewolves have ever been sentenced to life in a laboratory.” Carefully, he wiped away a fingerprint he’d left on the plastic seat.
“Who was that? The man you sent after Leila, the dancer.”
“My illegitimate son, Zachary. I didn’t learn about him until he was twenty and his mother couldn’t afford to pay for his dance lessons anymore. He joined my campaign to earn what I gave him.”
Alex didn’t take his eyes off of Leila, who pulled her leg from an arabesque up in front of her, by her ear. She repeated the measure to the playful beat of the music, earning a round of applause from the audience.
“He’s dead, exactly like you will be in a few minutes.” Alex didn’t want to look at the man beside him, corrupted by so much fear and greed. “Your ignorance was your downfall,” he murmured. “Did you never gain an elemental power—water, maybe, or air?”
The senator didn’t answer. Frankly, Alex didn’t care. A vine wrapped around the other man’s throat and squeezed. He wanted until the last breath came and went before moving to leave, finally glancing down at the single being who’d torn apart Leila’s family, killing her once in the process. Alex took the man’s day planner, cell phone, and key set, and left his wallet behind so police could identify the body.
Vines slithered back into the ground, their sound fading as Alex meandered back to the right wing, where he wanted to be when Leila stepped offstage. No more faery lights hung overhead. Clutching a few pages in his hand, he cast a spell to distract onlookers from the senator’s body. If their eyes went his way, something, anything else would claim their focus. Since children already had short attention spans, the diversion didn’t cost him very much power.
“The senator’s dead in his chair,” he said, aiming his words at the shapeshifters.
A dog snarled, its sound a foil to the high, cheerful notes of the music. Beau.
Uncaring if audience members saw him, he sprinted for the sound, which seemed to come from the direction he was walking toward.
“I need eyes backstage, now.”
Bursting through the door that divided the audience from the mechanical aspects of the ballet that they weren’t meant to see, he was flooded with light. The volume of the angry growls increased even as a strange silence filled the space, so different from the harried whispers that had swept through backstage only minutes ago.
He moved even faster now, pushing racks of costumes out of his way, kicking aside rejected—some bloodied—pointe shoes. When he turned a corner, he saw Derik herding dancers, children, parents, and staff members whose names he didn’t know out a back door. All were shaking, their eyes wide with shock and terror. The moment the director saw Alex, he gestured wildly, pointing for him to escape with everyone else.
With a sharp shake of his head, Alex moved toward the left wing. Taking a piece of paper in his hand he threw a shield over the humans, one a little more than the basic construct most witches used. His would reverberate any weapon right back to his owner, striking them exactly where they intended to hit their target.
It was unlikely that whoever Beau had cornered would make this so easy. No, they would probably ignore the humans and aim for Leila. They’d been paid to kill her, after all. One
of Alex’s claws pierced his talisman, but it wouldn’t take away any of its power unless a physical piece fell.
A door, the one Alex had come through, slammed open with a loud cracking noise.
Finally rounding that last corner, Alex realized why the human hadn’t simply shot Beau and gone for Leila himself. So did Raphael, Mary and Wish. In the corner of his vision, Raphael shoved his mate behind him.
Beau held the barrel of an assault weapon in his strong jaws. It was turned toward the wall opposite the stage, away from Leila. Alex’s breath caught, and he was almost certain he heard Mary attempt to stifle a sob. That was the type of gun that could have easily put a hole in Leila’s chest, exactly as he’d seen.
Chapter 19
EXCEPT it hadn’t happened because of an irate dog with a particularly strong grip with his teeth. Whatever one did to spoil dogs, Alex would have to do tenfold, every day for the rest of the beast’s life.
The human male holding the weapon was so determined to yank it back from Beau that he hardly noticed Alex and everyone standing beside him, much less the dancers currently scrambling to get out of firing range.
“Just give it to the dog.” Alex tried to keep the fury out of his voice—this was the man who murdered Leila in my vision—and only partially succeeded. He sounded as if he was being strangled. Plants grew from the floor, walls, and ceiling, wrapping around the human’s legs and arms so he hung in the air, almost powerless.
But the man’s finger was on the trigger. With a mighty jerk he pulled the gun away from the wall, bringing Beau with it. He didn’t manage to bring it one hundred and eighty degrees, where Leila still danced onstage, but yanked it halfway, directly toward their group. It fired. Air rushed around them protectively, shoving toward the bullet. At the same time Alex brought up a shield with no way of knowing if it was too late.
A crash sounded behind them, and another burst of air hit them, but this time it had nothing to do with Raphael’s ability with the element.
The plants brought the human assassin to his knees, his hands pulling away from the gun so hard Alex heard bones crack. The weapon remained in Beau’s mouth, which he brought to him like a gift. So less humans would panic, Alex hid the gun underneath the windmill prop.
Beside him, Raphael, Mary, and Wish seemed unhurt. They all stood hale and whole with not even a speck of blood falling to the chipped wooden floor.
“It didn’t hit any of you, did it?” Alex asked, haunted by the knowledge of what that particular gun could do. He petted Beau while he spoke, hoping to give the animal the most positive message he could.
The beast was going to be far more helpful than Alex could have anticipated, wasn’t he?
“Oh it did.” Mary gave Wish a fond pat on the shoulder. “But he chose to be noncorporeal at that moment. It went directly through his sternum. Did it hurt?”
The haint leveled Mary with a dry look. “I’m already dead, Mare. I don’t think bullets can hurt me a second time.”
“They almost did exactly that to her,” Alex murmured, meeting Wish’s gaze. “I wouldn’t be sure.”
The music trailed to an end and stopped. The curtains fell, and Leila ran into his open arms. The rest of the dancers who exited the stage on her side stopped to look, wide-eyed, at the man bound and gagged with vines.
“Who’s that, and why is he hanging like some guy caught in a trap on George of the Jungle?” Leila pointed to the human murderer, who hung from the ceiling. More than two strong vines had been required to carry his substantial weight, but Alex enjoyed seeing the fear in his eyes while he hung prone, completely tied up so there was nothing he could do but stare at them, wondering what they might do to the man who wished to kill someone they loved.
Little did he know he was about to serve a lifetime in human prison. Torture enough.
As Alex explained everything to Leila in the most condensed form he could manage, including his vision, all of his friends and allies gathered around them to stare at the caught human. He’d stopped attempting to struggle. It was the only reason his vines didn’t grow thorns like the senator’s had.
The dancers fled hastily. Derik had texted them to meet somewhere else in the building, and they appeared happy to oblige. Sebastian directed those who didn’t have their phones on them, graciously leading them away from the hitman. Leila didn’t follow.
Alex turned off his headset, lifted it from his ear and placed it on a table. As the show had finished, the humans were milling out on their own, unaware of the body lying in their midst.
“Should I bring him to the holding cell?” Cael asked. In a rare sight, he smiled so wide that his teeth showed. He didn’t sound keen to act on his offer.
“Nah, let him hang out for a second,” Leila said, grinning hugely.
At that, even Alex groaned.
Derik cleared his throat from where he stood between Emmanuel and a Scottish werewolf who came to help courtesy of Heath’s mother, Alpha of the Inverness pack.
“What, exactly, is going on?” Derik asked in a tone so feral, Alex wondered for a moment whether that particular human was really human at all.
Taking Alex’s hand and a graceful step reminiscent of the walk she’d done onstage earlier, Leila explained that a senator wanted her and Mary dead. As per an unspoken rule that they never tell humans secrets meant for the ears of creatures, she offered no information that indicated any presence of claws or magic.
While everyone else stood quietly and listened, she told him about Zach kidnapping her the day she left rehearsal early, and how Alex had seen and rescued her. She skated around Zach’s death, instead mentioning the way her family—the pack—had set this up for her protection, as they knew the brewery inside and out. If it weren’t for them taking all of the assassins to the police, she insisted, she’d be dead, and probably a few dancers and audience members alongside her.
As Alex had told her about his vision, she knew she wasn’t wrong.
“So thank you,” she said sincerely, looking into the faces of everyone who’d helped her tonight.
Embracing her sister briefly, a still teary-eyed Mary nodded at the group. “You saved both of us, and avenged our family.”
To his credit, Derik took all the new information in stride. After listening to Leila, he was ghostly pale, but he stood tall just the same. “If there is ever a threat to security, you will tell me. Do you understand?” The human pushed through creatures who could kill him with less than a second’s thoughts as if they were puppies and pulled Leila into a hug before she could answer. “I’m glad you’re safe now.”
Alex felt himself smile. She’d lost so much, too much, but she was gaining friends and additions to her new, motley family all the time. From seeing her own smile as she hugged her director back, he knew she’d be okay. His woman was so damned strong, and he couldn’t have been prouder. She had danced on that stage, knowingly placing a target on her back, without flinching. If she had to, he was confident Leila could have taken down Murphy by herself.
“What I want to know,” Sophia said, pointing to their tied-up human, “is how the hell he got back here. All of us were watching for anyone moving toward the stage, and we saw no one.”
“I can answer that.” Derik blanched even further when he looked at the human more closely. After shaking his head in a sharp motion, he pinched his cheeks as he spoke again. “He was hired yesterday to move heavy equipment. One of our usual men fell ill, so we needed a quick replacement. He was backstage, doing work the entire time.”
Thunder rose in Alex’s ears. He was under my nose the entire time, and I had no idea. The roaring stopped when Leila wrapped her slender arms around him, placing her head on his shoulder.
“Do you want me to join the others?” she asked Derik.
“No. I’m going to tell them we’re on hiatus for the next few days at least. They’re scared, I’m sure you’re scared, and I sure as sugar am pretty shaken myself. It’s going to
be a ticketing nightmare, but we’ll manage.” He walked away, but stopped at the door all the other dancers fled through. He met Alex’s eyes, something like unholy knowledge in his own.
“Nice use of my plant props.” He shut the door and was gone.
Aiyanna tapped the hitman with one finger, making him swing. He moaned miserably. She grinned and did it a second time. “Leila’s-not-dead-again party at the firehouse, anyone? I think I know someone who’ll donate the beer.” She shot Sebastian a speculative look.
“First, let’s get the criminal out of my brewery.” Sebastian glanced down at his mate. “And then she gets to choose what you guys drink.”
There was a collective cheer. Alex moved to give Brendon the book in his pocket when the warlock simply held out an expectant hand.
He merely watched everyone shuffle around excitedly until they left, their spirits high from the night’s victory.
“Want to go home?” he asked Leila.
Still wrapped around him like a perfectly tied ribbon, she nodded. He didn’t need any more convincing.
“Heath!” The man couldn’t be far down the hall. In seconds, Heath had circled back and stalked backstage again.
“Could we have a lift to my place?” Alex asked, and then rattled off where he lived. It was the first time he’d told anyone in the pack the location of his home. It’s about time.
“Not going to the party?” Heath raised his eyebrow.
Leila shook her head, the flowers pinned in her hair tickling Alex’s chin. “I think I just want to be with Alex tonight.”
“Are you sure? Mary will want to spend some time with you, I think.”
Smiling, Leila took her bag from Alex. “I’ll see her tomorrow. Maybe we can spend the day together—I have the day off, you know.”
Heath nodded, and then brought Alex, Leila, and Beau right into Alex’s house. He took a moment to study his surroundings and grinned.
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