Hunted By The Others (27 page)

“Partire!”
he demanded, his voice cracking in a mix of rage and fear. The candles immediately extinguished themselves, the cat and sphere over the circle disappearing to the sound of faint, mocking laughter.

Chapter 39

“What the hell was that thing?” I asked Arnold, shaking slightly as I thought about what the cat had said, that Veronica had been torn apart while still alive. There was a real possibility that neither Sara nor I would make it whole out of this fight. For some reason, knowing it hadn’t been Royce who killed her didn’t make me feel any better about facing him and whatever else was out there tonight. My confidence had been shaken, and I desperately needed something to focus on other than the mindless brutality of this thing. That way I could at least pretend Sara would still be alive when I went to rescue her later that night.

So far as I knew, I would only have one shot at saving her. I needed to make every action count.

“That,” Arnold replied, seeming as nervous as me as he stumbled to the dresser and dropped the book and dagger with dull, muted thuds, “was a planar being. They are devious little shits. I was worried he might try to con a way out of the circle.”

“What would be so bad about that?” Chaz asked, even as he drew me closer to wrap a protective arm around my waist. Any other time I might have resisted, but right now I was thankful for the supportive touch.

Arnold started picking up the items in the circle, and I noted with a bit of dull curiosity that the bowls were both empty and the lump of clay was vaguely cat-shaped, settled right where I had last seen the thing crouched. “It wouldn’t necessarily do any direct harm to us, but unbound it would be free to act however it wanted. Since they dislike being summoned, it wouldn’t be far-fetched to think it might try to do us some mischief. I remember one of my teacher’s former apprentices summoning one once. He let it out of a circle unbound, and it promptly turned around and trapped him in a circle of its own making. Then it started using him like a familiar to channel energy through while it cast some spells. My teacher heard the screams. All of us did. He came in and banished it, but it burned the guy out so badly he couldn’t talk for days and still couldn’t cast even the simplest of spells when my teacher sent him home three weeks later.”

“Nasty,” I muttered, fighting the shivers and closing my eyes for the space of a breath before sliding my own arm around Chaz’s waist. Werewolf or not, it was comforting to have his solid warmth there to lean against just now. For the time being, he looked human, and that was enough for me. “Arnold, will you do me a favor tonight?”

He looked up from the floor, where he was crouching over the silver tray and picking up his magical items. “What kind of favor?”

“Stay back and out of the fight. Whoever nabbed Sara told me to leave you behind tonight, and at this point, I won’t do anything else to jeopardize her life. Maybe they’ll take me instead, if I offer to take her place.”

Chaz growled, a low rumbling that I felt more than heard as he twisted around to place both hands on my shoulders, looking down into my eyes. The worry in his gaze tugged at my heartstrings, and I steeled myself against having to argue the point. “Shia, you’re upset. You’re not thinking straight, you can’t just give yourself over to this thing!”

“I’m thinking perfectly straight. Sara’s in the hands of a killer. The killer wants Arnold to stay away tonight. They took Sara and are doing all of this because they’re trying to get to me. I think it’s perfectly logical.” Especially since I planned on wearing the belt, and completely destroying anyone who so much as looked funny at me.

Arnold rose from the floor. He looked grim and frightened. “You’re right. I’ll stay here. But I won’t stay out of it entirely. There are things I can do with your help. And to help you.”

“Then do them. But don’t follow me down there.” I returned my gaze to Chaz and placed a hand on his cheek to bring his attention off Arnold and back to me. “I know there’s a possibility that the holder might try to use you. But I will be eternally grateful if you’ll come with me. If you can keep the alpha of the Moonwalkers busy—what did you say his name was? Donovan?”

I noted with fascination that his pupils dilated, something like fear passing behind his eyes even while his expression hardened in resolve. “Rohrik Donovan,” he said softly, his voice flat and betraying none of the emotion I thought I’d seen a moment before. “He’s the strongest alpha male I’ve ever seen. I don’t know anyone that’s fought him and lived.”

My heart skipped a beat at that. I had no alternatives and this was the most solid plan I’d come up with. But could I rely on Chaz to guard my back? For an instant, my newfound conviction wavered and I felt myself on the edge of some black abyss waiting to swallow me up.

“I’ll come. My pack will come. I don’t know if I can fight the focus, but I’ll try. We all will.”

My breath came out of me in a swift rush of relief at that. The Moonwalkers would have another reason to hate the Sunstrikers now, but nonetheless I was still grateful beyond words that he would back me up tonight. I’m sure it must have showed in my face, but I still felt I needed to tell him I didn’t expect him to play the hero tonight. “All I want you to do is keep any Weres he has guarding him off my back, and give me a chance to get close enough to try to get the focus. I don’t know who else will be there tonight, but I’m assuming Royce, the vamp that killed Veronica and Allison, and maybe some of Rohrik’s people, plus the sorcerer who has the focus.”

He nodded, leaning forward to brush his lips in a featherlight kiss over my forehead. “Don’t worry. I know what to do.”

Throwing caution, and every reservation I had, to the wind, I reached up with both hands and pulled him down into a kiss. It seemed to surprise him almost as much as I surprised myself, as he briefly drew back in shock at the touch. Before long, though, he slid his arms tightly around me, drawing me up against him and tilting his head to deepen the kiss, quickly shifting from soft and gentle to demanding and possessive. Feeling heat and electric desire rising in me, I wondered dimly why I ever let him go. His touch was just the way I remembered and loved it.

He drew back with a sharply indrawn breath at Arnold’s loud “Ahem!” I fought back a mixture of disappointment and sudden keen embarrassment, looking away as I raggedly brushed a few stray crimson tendrils out of my eyes. “If you’re finished, can we continue planning here?”

Chaz and I stared at each other for a heartbeat, too, before he slowly released me and turned to look at Arnold with a pleased, lazy grin. Answer enough.

“Yeah,” I muttered, running a hand over my flushed face and looking anywhere but at the two of them. I don’t know what got into me. I was never that forward.

“Good,” he said, both of us pointedly ignoring the smug, heated look on Chaz’s face. I wondered guiltily if my lips were as red and swollen from the kiss as his. “Here’s what I can do…”

Chapter 40

The rest of the day felt interminable and too short at the same time. Chaz and Arnold left me to my own devices for a while as Arnold worked out protection spells to keep the focus from dragging Chaz under its influence immediately. Frankly, I was surprised Chaz agreed, considering what Arnold told the cat he wanted to do with the focus if he got his hands on it. Since what they were doing required concentration and zero distractions, I wasn’t allowed in the room during their little experiment.

Actually, I’m pretty sure the reason they kicked me out was to put their heads together and figure out a way to keep me from handing myself over to the bad guys later.

As for me, I pulled the rolling chair by the computers over to the living room window and sat staring at the park down the street. Maybe I should have been planning or using those computers to try to hack into the floor plans for
La Petite Boisson
or something, but I felt completely empty of thoughts and emotions, blank as I watched the treetops outside swaying in a breeze I couldn’t feel.

No, that’s not quite right. Not entirely empty. I felt a distant ache, a touch of loss and fear for Sara.

She’d defended me, supported me, gone along with my crazy ideas even when she knew they were nuts or wouldn’t work. She’d been there for some of the best and worst times of my life, helped keep H&W from going under even when we both knew the whole thing was just a crazy dream we clung to, to prove to ourselves and our families that it could be done. She was one of the smartest, bravest, and most supportive people I’d ever known.

And it was all my fault that she’d been taken.

“You’re crying,” I heard quietly from behind me. Without thinking, I reached up and touched wetness on my cheeks as I turned to see Chaz standing in the doorway.

I tried putting on a brave face, though I was pretty sure it failed. Smiling weakly around the tears, I turned my unfocused gaze out the window again. “I was thinking about Sara.”

He moved close to me, placing a hand on my shoulder as he looked outside, too. It was too beautiful a day, with a few cotton-ball clouds scattered across the pale blue spring sky, the sun now hanging low but still shining down on the children playing in the street.

“If you sit here and dwell on it, all you’ll do is upset yourself. We’ll make it through tonight, don’t worry. We’ll save her.”

“I know,” I said, absently rubbing my fingertips under my eyes to wipe the tears away. “I just can’t help but feel it’s all my fault.”

He took hold of the arms of the chair, twisting it around to make me face him as he knelt in front of me, taking my hands up in his own. “Don’t torture yourself, Shia. It’s not your fault Sara’s gone. We’ll get her back.”

He looked so earnest and concerned, I nearly burst right back into tears. Never had I felt like a more horrible, wretched person than right at that second. His words were soothing and may have been true, but a part of me couldn’t let go of the fact that I’d dragged Sara along for the ride, and that I’d been terribly, horribly wrong about Chaz all this time. He was patient, caring, and understanding, all the things I wasn’t. I’d been a fool.

“Thank you,” I whispered, knowing it wasn’t enough, knowing it would have to be, even as I pulled my hands out of his and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, leaning in to rest my forehead in his hair. He smelled like shampoo, sweat, and musk—male and alive. The musk scent was strong, and I knew it would only get stronger yet as the day waned and the sun finally set. His arms slid around my waist, just holding me, and I was grateful for his silence.

We stayed that way for a long time, though it must have been uncomfortable for him to remain in that kneeling position. Eventually he shifted under my arms and pulled away. He lifted a hand to sweep the curls back from my face and delicately run a thumb under one eye to brush away any remaining hint of my crying.

“I’ve got to call the pack to tell them what’s going on. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, a tremulous smile curving my lips as I carefully brushed my own fingers through his hair to fix it back into spikes after my cheek had flattened it against his head. Funny, I think I actually meant it. I really would be okay, I just needed someone to hold my hand through the grief to the point where I could actually think straight again.

He stared up at me for a few more moments, concern bringing a few lines to light around his eyes. Then he nodded and rose, reaching into a pocket of his jeans and pulling out a cell phone. He wandered to a sofa and sat down. I twisted around in the chair so I could watch him, curious.

Most of the calls he made were about the same, mostly, “Meet at
La Petite Boisson
tonight. Yes, I know what tonight is. No, I’m not joking. Be ready for a fight. Tell so-and-so, too.”

I got bored with listening after a while. Instead, I ran my fingertips over the handle of one of the stakes and pulled it out of its holder. Regarding the silver gleaming in the fading sunlight, I asked myself if I would really, truly be able to drive this piece of metal into another living (or perhaps unliving?) being.

My thoughts skittered back to Veronica’s murder, the flat, bored tone of the cat speaking of her being ripped apart while still alive. To Royce asking me to save him, even as he visibly fought the control of the focus so he wouldn’t kill me. Allison’s picture in the paper this morning. To the sounds of muffled screams when Sara’s kidnapper called me.

Yes, I decided. I would.

Eventually, Chaz made his last call. “It’s done. They’ll meet us there tonight. Though we’ll have to figure out a way to get in without being seen.”

“Either the service entrance in the back, or through the sewer or ventilation systems underground,” I said, flicking a nail against the silver to make it thrum out a soft chime. “It’s Royce’s building, which means he’s probably made about a million secret passageways to get out if something goes wrong.” Even as I wondered how I could know such a thing, I knew without a doubt it was true. Royce was old, very old. One didn’t survive as long as he had without having backup plans, contingencies, and more than one way out if things got too hairy.

Arnold came in cleaning some blue-gray dust or ash off his hands onto a rag as he peered at us. “You guys about ready to go? It’s getting late.” His gaze flicked over to Chaz, and I knew what he was thinking. He was worried he’d turn furry either here or in his car on the way to the restaurant.