Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (5 page)

The house was empty when I entered. I flung my backpack and textbooks on the floor and wandered into the kitchen. I found a note left for me on the fridge. Darrah had gone out with Maxwell. Again.

I caught my reflection in the hall mirror and frowned at my mop of tangled shoulder-length hair.

Up in my bedroom, I searched the grimoires for a spell that would speed hair growth and found one after an hour. One of my ancestors must’ve gotten a bad haircut once and created this enchantment. Lucky me. I followed the simple instructions.

I brushed my hair thirteen times, while I recited the incantation. “
Stretch it, twist it, make it grow. Like a river, let it flow. Three times as fast will this hair grow.”

My scalp tingled. Then the roots of my hair pulsated and I grimaced. To my amazement, the short strands began magically lengthening and growing down my back like long vines. Whoa.

Once the longer tresses reached my waist, I gasped. “Stop! Not too long,” I exclaimed, lifting up a piece of hair and examining it. Thankfully, the spell ended.

Smiling, I walked over to the mirror. My long black hair had returned to its previous beauty and flowed around me like a dark shawl.
Yay! Go me.
Now I’d just have to tell everyone that I got hair extensions.

Skipping downstairs, I did my homework and prepared a pasta dish I had seen on the
Food Network
for dinner. I had gone all out, even making the noodles from scratch, rather than emptying the contents of a box into a pot of boiling water. By the time I was done, the sink was full of dirty dishes and the burners on the gas range were cluttered with pots and pans.

I kept glancing at the clock. Another hour passed. No Darrah. My heart panged. I really, really hated being alone in the house.

Taking a glass of soda with me, I sat at the dining room table where I had left my history book and a map of Marin County to eat dinner alone.

I devoured the yummy food, then pushed my plate aside and opened my history book. But after I’d read the same page three times, I gave up.

Slamming the book shut, I moved the map closer and studied it. I’d tried scrying for the lycan’s lair before, but it hadn’t found an exact location. Why not try again?

I dangled a thin silver chain that held an amethyst crystal over the map. After about five minutes, the crystal jerked on my fingers. The stone settled on an area within Phoenix Lake. That was twice now. I must be getting warmer.

Pushing back from the table, I went upstairs to my room and pulled on my knees-blown-out boyfriend jeans that sat low on my hips, with a black tank and hoodie. No need to stress about style today, I’d dressed for comfort and movement. Pulling my hood over my head and slipping my feet into worn sneakers, I grabbed my keys and left.

In the Jeep, I texted Trent and told him I’d be at Phoenix Lake within ten minutes. He was already there when I arrived, reclining on the hood of his sleek Dodge Charger. Trent stretched out his long legs clad in faded jeans, ankles crossed, and adjusted the thick leather belt looped at his waist. He had on a black tank-top and I surreptitiously peeked at his muscled biceps. Nice definition.

I got out of the Jeep and glanced at the giant redwoods that lined the lake’s edge. Sunlight strained through the undulating fog and fingered through the branches, which obscured the sun’s radiance. Parked to the side was a dirty Camaro.

I stepped on the bumper and settled beside Trent. We faced the lake and meadow, where crickets chirped and frogs sang softly.

“I’m curious about something…when—or should I ask,
how
—did you become interested in the supernatural?” he asked, slinging his arm around my neck.

“Um…ever since I realized my family practiced witchcraft. But I think I’ve always been supernaturally aware.”

A raven floated overhead in a tight circle, then sailed down and mantled. Its piercing eyes seemed old and terribly wise. Had to be the same one following me around town.

The snap of broken twigs echoed against the trees. Trent sat up and stared into the woods.

Daniel jogged out of the woods and headed toward us. He wore his usual jock apparel—Letterman’s jacket over a loose T-shirt, long baggy shorts that revealed muscled calves, and canvas high-tops. Even hazy sunshine was good to him, burnishing his brown skin.

“Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Hey, Dan. Whatcha doing out here?” Trent asked, eyebrows slanted downward. He didn’t seem too happy to see his best friend. Probably wanted to be alone with me. I suppressed a grin. 

“Just taking a walk,” Daniel replied and rested one foot on the fender. He stared at the tangle of trees, then back at us sitting on the hood of Trent’s car.

“In the forest?” I asked. “Not afraid, after everything that’s happened?”

“Nah.” Daniel shook his head. “My grandmother used to tell me stories about this place as a child.” He jerked his chin at the towering redwoods. “There’s an old legend about guardian wolves that once protected Muir Woods.”

Huh. The wolf tales kept getting weirder and weirder. “Go on,” I prodded with genuine curiosity.

Daniel puckered his brows. “Do you know anything about the Forsaken?”

Trent shook his head. “What are they? Some religious cult?”

“No. According to urban legend, they were a band of fallen angels that enslaved demons,
Nocturne,
and when the demons rebelled, the Forsaken dispatched them into some weird underground prison, like a hell dimension. And then closed it up.”

Evans had mentioned a mystical place located beneath the cemetery. Weird coincidence?

“I think the underground prison you’re referring to is called the
Sheol
,” I said.

“Yeah, well, to ensure that the, uh, Sheol remained closed, these witches asked a family in town to act as guardians after the Forsaken were deported by the coven,” Daniel said, leaning an arm on his uplifted knee. “That family was theoretically a supernatural species that carried a wolf gene. They were called the
Wardens
.”

Trent lounged on the windshield again, linking his fingers behind his head. “Why bother making sure the place is closed if the Forsaken aren’t even around anymore?”

Good question. And this story was taking
waaaay
too long. I wanted time alone with Trent. Apparently, Trent wanted to talk to me about the whole believing in supernatural stuff, which was cool, but I just wanted to kiss him. Lots.

But…I guess learning more stuff about the Wardens couldn’t hurt. Might even help solve the mystery of the lycans’ sudden appearance. There was definitely a connection here.

“The legend claims that the witches knew they’d need a second line of defense,” Daniel continued. “The coven put a protective warding spell around the Sheol, but they weren’t sure the spell would hold forever, so they needed the Wardens to do nightly patrols to safeguard the perimeter. The Wardens could shapeshift into these badass wolves. Even in their human form, they possessed superhuman strength, so they could also patrol during the daylight hours without raising suspicion from the locals. We’re talking real live
werewolves
.”

I chewed my bottom lip. Okay, so I still wanted to kiss Trent, but this was getting interesting. And a little freaky. My mind was slowly fitting the puzzle pieces together.

“These Wardens were like supernatural guard dogs?” I asked.

“So the story goes,” Daniel said in his slight Spanish accent. “I mean, Lycans have served other paranormals in the past as bodyguards. Didn’t you see that movie
Underworld
?”

Click.
The last puzzle piece snapped into place. My gut panged. That witchy instinct that told me to keep my big mouth shut or run like hell. Right now, it said to be cautious of how much I divulged. And I had an icky feeling the Wardens were the lycans turned bad. Real bad.

“If, hypothetically, the Wardens have returned, why would they be biting high school kids?”

More importantly, if they had returned, did that mean the Sheol was at risk? I inwardly groaned. Like I didn’t have enough to deal with.

“Recruiting, maybe?” Daniel snorted, then his lips formed a serious tight line. “I found out other weird stuff on the Internet…like do you guys want to know how to kill demons?”

“No, thanks. Been there, done that.” I didn’t think I could get any more sarcastic, but I tried. “But passed on the lame T-shirt because—
hello
—tacky.”

Trent chuckled and shook his head.

Daniel’s stare bore into mine. He didn’t blink an eye, although his mouth softened. “You’re kidding, right?”

Nope. Not much of a kidder.

I smirked. “Yup. You know me—always joking around.”

Daniel licked his lips. “You know, a month ago, I would’ve considered the urban legend impossible, but now...”

“You mean before the attacks started?” I asked.

Daniel kicked at the ground, his brown eyes had a yellowish hue around the rim. “Yeah. What do you guys know about hunting wolves?”

So we were back to that.

“I know it’s dangerous and stupid,” I snapped.

“For someone less experienced, perhaps.” Trent said, glancing from me to Daniel. “During my summer vacations, my uncle used to take me hunting. We mainly shot pheasants and sometimes deer, and I learned to track other wildlife. And because I’ve attended military school, I can handle most firearms, which means I should be able to track the wolves.”

Shut up, Trent. Don’t encourage him!

“Dude, that’s so cool,” Daniel said, then his shoulders tensed. “I read on this website that silver bullets were the only way to kill werewolves. Hell, silver bullets to anyone’s heart would kill them, except vampires.”

Ohhh, really?

What I’d like to know was why he suddenly wanted to be so dang helpful. Especially, since the police thought he was the prime suspect in his ex-girlfriend, Kayla’s murder after the police had discovered that he’d a fight with her the same day she died. But the cops were way off base. If I were gambling, my money would be on creepy Carter Lampard. Not Daniel.

Trent glanced at me. “Maybe Dan can help us track the wolves, Shi.”

“No.” I frowned at Daniel. “What’s your deal? Are you looking to be some kind of hero?”

“Nah. I just need to find the
real
killer, so I can clear my name.”

I wasn’t sure I trusted him. I actually trusted Stalker Boy more than I trusted Daniel. Weird, I know. Now he wanted to avenge Kayla and clear his name. Almost poetic. Even romantic. And yes, unbelievably stupid. Except the kid had no idea what he was getting himself into if he went down this road. Me? I didn’t have a choice. He still did.

I leaned forward, my eyes staring intensely into Daniel’s brown gaze. “I think you’ve watched too many episodes of
Supernatural.
You don’t wake up one morning and decide you want to hunt demons—”

“I know that! But I have to do this for Kayla.” Daniel’s body emanated heat like a furnace, his eyes glowing feverishly. “And
don’t
mock the Winchester brothers. They kick ass.”

I shook my head, a slight smile on my lips. “No argument there.”

No way could I let Daniel hunt the lycans. He’d get himself bitten and I didn’t want more blood on my hands.

“Look, Daniel, let us handle the wolf problem,” Trent said.

“Go home and Trent will call you later with an update,” I added.

Daniel’s tawny eyes became shadowy and intense. “Fine. I’ll wait. But if you’re really some kind of witchy do-gooder like people say, then I’m gonna need
your
brand of skills to prove it’s a werewolf doing the attacks.”

Lucky me.

“It’s a lycan,” I corrected and slid off the hood.

Daniel’s eyebrows frowned. “What?”

“It’s a lycan,
not
a werewolf,” I said. “Lycans can
shift
whenever they want. Not only during the full moon.”

“How do you know that?” Daniel asked.

“Let’s just say, I know certain things about the wolves in town,” I said. “And leave it at that.”

“Don’t sweat it, Dan. We’ll do everything we can to help,” Trent declared.

Daniel nodded and pointed at the trees. A hiking trail, hardly noticeable, started just past the thick shrubbery at the far side of Phoenix Lake. “I saw a cave about a mile off the trail. You guys should check it out. And be careful…” He pushed past us, got into the rusty Camaro, and took off.

I gave Trent a critical squint. “Whaddya think? Daniel’s story
could
just be an old legend.”

“Only one way to find out.” Trent scooted off the hood, opened the door of the Charger, and removed a flashlight. “Let’s go search for that cave.”

“Do we
live
in the same town?” I snarked. “Not really in the mood for a mauling—thanks.” Besides, we hadn’t even kissed yet.

“Think of it as another aspect of your training.” He tugged on my hand. “Come on, before it gets dark.”

No way. Bad idea, Shiloh.

I sighed. It was tempting to check out the cave. This might lead to a clue. The crystal had rested on a spot nearby on the map. Follow first, kiss later. Time to be more proactive. It might be dangerous and stupid, but it also might uncover hints to the killer’s identity.

“Lead the way. But you’ll owe me dinner,” I said.

“Oh, I can think of much more interesting ways to pay you back.” Trent winked at me, and then marched down the knoll.

Once Trent and I reached the small meadow at the bottom of the hill, he trudged along the trail into the woods. His heavy steps left indents on the dirt path, and I trailed behind. My practical side screamed that we could be walking straight into danger.

Still, I zipped up my hoodie and trudged along the path. The sky had changed to a stormy, aching blue, clouds winking over the hills. The viscous gray haze, with a thick billowing edge obscured the peak of Mount Tam.

Trent pointed to some seriously large paw marks in the dirt. “A-ha! A clue.”

“Obviously,” I said sarcastically. “Keep going.”

Occasionally, the leaves would rustle overhead, launching my pulse into spasms. The piney fragrance of the woods seeped under my clothes. Aside from Trent humming “Bad Moon Rising” the next fifteen minutes were spent in relative silence until I tripped.

He had stopped to tie his shoe, but I’d kept going. I stumbled forward, my foot catching on something. All of a sudden, the ground was rushing up to greet me. My knee crashed into a sharp rock, and I tumbled, slamming my temple into the hard ground. I squeezed my eyes shut against a sudden onslaught of pain.

“Owww,” I moaned.

Trent knelt beside me. “Are you hurt?”

“Not really.” I sat up and massaged my throbbing head. “Whatever I tripped over took me by surprise.” I glanced down at my favorite jeans, now muddy and stained. Damn, another pair ruined.

Trent helped me to my feet. Upon closer inspection, I’d stumbled over a buck. Or what was left of one. The deer’s organs had been gnawed away and the long antlers jutted from the animal’s cracked skull. My stomach churned. All thoughts of making out with Trent were completely gone.

He squatted on his heels. “It’s still warm. Lycans must have huge teeth. Look at those bite marks.”

“No, thanks. It smells horrible.” I pinched my nose and focused on not vomiting in front of him.

Trent examined the trail. “The kill is fresh. The lycan shouldn’t be far off.”

We followed the winding dirt path deeper into the woods. I trudged behind Trent, who had begun following a trail of blood and muddy imprints. Just when I was about to tell him that I wanted to go back, the tracks ended at a mass of bushes. He pushed aside the branches to reveal the opening of a cave, then he held back a heavy branch, and motioned for me to go inside.

I took a step back, shaking my head vigorously. “Are you insane? There could be seriously big spiders in there.”

“It’s only a cave. Why are you stressing?”

No way was I going in there. Too dark. Too freakin’ scary.

I shuffled my feet. “I just don’t think it’s hygienic or, you know, safe.”

“C’mon, we gotta check this out. It might be a lead.” He scanned the area, then grabbed a thick branch, and held it like a baseball bat over his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen to you while you’re with me.”

I stared at him, chewing on a hangnail. “Are you sure we should, uh, go in there? We don’t have any weapons, other than that stick, and it looks
super
dark inside.” I swiped a hand over my face, suddenly damp with perspiration.

Trent’s mouth twisted wryly. “You’re not scared of the dark, are you?”

No, just the inherent absence of light. Duh.

“Of course not.”

“If there’s something you’re not telling me, anything at all, now would be the time,” he said softly.

“Um, why would you say that?”

“Because you look ghostly pale and you’re trembling.”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I said, shouldering past him.

He gripped my upper arm and spun me around to face him. “Are you afraid of getting hurt?”

“No, Trent, I’m afraid that
you’re
not afraid of getting hurt,” I said, which was partly true.

“Don’t try to turn this around on me. You’ve been training your ass off to hunt the things that go bump in the night, so why are you chickening out now?” Trent arched a brow, a look of reprimand on his face. “Or are you worried about being alone inside the cave with me for some reason?”

Good question. It would be foolish not to be wary after I’d seen Trent’s eyes flare black too many times for it to be normal. Still, I was determined to hike up my big girl panties and stop whining. And Trent would never hurt me.

“Not unless you’re planning on sprouting fur, growing fangs, and biting me.” Putting on a brave face, I marched past him into the cave. “Let’s just go. It’s getting late.”

The passage only stretched wide enough for us to walk single file, and so low in some areas that Trent had to stoop after cracking his head on the ceiling.

“Ouch,” he muttered, rubbing his skull.

I was about to shush him, when I was struck with a
major
case of claustrophobia. This sucked. I seriously deserved something for my troubles, like chocolate or a foot massage.

As darkness enfolded us, my confident performance dwindled, and I let him lead the way deeper inside the cavern. The only light came from the flashlight in Trent’s hand. My attention zoned in on the batteries. If they died or if Trent dropped it, we’d be cast into complete blackness. The gloom of the cave was suddenly the dead of night, hollow and stale. Not exactly the mood lighting I’d wished for. The beam of the flashlight bounced as we walked, touching every wall, crack, and crevice.

Halfway inside the cave, I had to muster some courage to conquer the screaming flood of terror that threatened to take me over. My fight-or-flight response kicked in and it leaned violently toward the latter. I might be somewhat tough, but when faced with utter darkness, I was all about the flight.

I braced a hand on the damp wall and closed my eyes. My heart flew into my throat. I drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm my nerves.

Trent stopped and twisted around. “Are you okay?”

Am I okay?
No, I wasn’t. I put my hands on my thighs. My breath came out in shallow gasps.

I slid down the wall and hugged my knees. “Can we get outta here?” My voice sounded squeaky, as if I was on the brink of a full-blown panic attack. “Please?”

“What’s wrong?” Trent squatted beside me and set the flashlight on the ground. It rolled away and a wave of pitch-black shrouded us.

“Grab the light!” My hand clamped over his forearm. “I need the light!”

Trent reached for the flashlight. “Here. Relax.” He handed it to me and my fingers tightly clutched our only light source. I closed my eyes and breathed.

In...one...two...three...

Out...one...two...three...

I opened my eyes and whispered, “I’ve never told anyone this…but I suffer from nyctophobia—it’s a phobia of the dark. I even sleep with a nightlight. Stupid, huh?”

Just saying it aloud made me feel silly and childish.

“No.” He kissed my forehead. “It’s cool. Just wait here then, I’ll go—”

I jerked on his sleeve. “No! I’m not staying here alone.” I stood on shaky legs. My fingers ached, gripping the smooth metal of the flashlight so hard I probably left dents on the handle. I needed to get it together.

You’re tougher than this—dammit!

The pep talk helped some. Swallowing some of the irrational fear, I had enough resolve to go on. I just wanted to do the right thing. To fight evil and protect my hometown. And my friends.

Trent held my hand and led us deeper into the cave. The walls dripped slimy moisture and the cold seemed like a weight that seeped through skin and bone. I told myself to stay calm—not to freak out. Trent was a hunter and he knew martial arts. Which meant he could obviously handle himself. I should be safe with him.

I bumped into Trent’s back and stumbled. “Hey! Why’d you—”

“Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to his lips.

I peered around him and lowered the flashlight. The passage had widened and formed a cavernous room, the floor obscured by the bones of dismembered animal carcasses. The soft snores from a sleeping lycan bounced off the walls.

Correction,
three
sleeping lycans.

“Gotcha,” Trent whispered.

Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod.

My heart pounded like thunder. My arms and legs stopped functioning and my vision squashed to a pinhole.

I recognized one of the three lycans. The same gray and black speckled fur as the one who’d tried to attack me on various occasions. Smaller than the other two, but just as fierce looking.

“We were so
not
ready to capture, or fight these predators,” Trent whispered. “Better to retreat and live to fight another day.”

“I agree. Let’s go.
Now
.” I tugged on his arm and quietly backed away.

Trent treaded softly behind me. I didn’t relax until we reached the lake where our cars were parked on the slope. The remnants of bleak clouds drifted lazily, but to the north, sundown was fast approaching. I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and the bright screen flashed the time, almost seven-thirty. Sweat prickled my scalp. Anxiety tightened my stomach into a writhing ball.

My hands fisted. “Were you
trying
to get us killed? Or are you just that dense?” I wanted to punch him. Instead, I chucked the flashlight at him.

Trent ducked and fetched the light. “Shiloh, relax. I thought all this training we were doing was so you could handle this type of paranormal stuff.”

“Yeah, but now when it’s three against two in a dark cave with only one freakin’ exit!” I snapped.

“Okay! Calm down. Nothing happened.” Trent hunched his shoulders. “You know, after going into that cave, something tells me that Daniel’s story isn’t some old legend.”

I didn’t answer, just shifted my weight uncomfortably and touched the gemstone around my neck, the Tiger’s eye suddenly so warm it reddened my fingers.

“If we hunt the lycans together—”

“Do you even know anything about hunting them?” I interrupted. “It’s not like these are ordinary animals.”

“
I know
. First you need to find an area with a good vantage point, tether an animal as bait, and wait with your shotgun loaded with silver bullets.”

Okay, so he did know more about hunting things than I did.

“We’ll talk about it with Evans.” I sighed and reigned in my anger. “Um, do you think Daniel knew about the lycans being in that cave?”

Trent kicked at the ground with his shoe. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Spine-chilling howls pierced the impending dusk. The lycans were awake.

My witchy senses immediately went on high-alert. I touched my scar, the old wound tingling. The tiger’s eye was a balmy spot on my skin.

Something big and heavy thrashed in the underbrush. Then a shape emerged on the far side of the lake. I gasped before my lungs stopped working.

Holy, lycan puppies.

Trent moved closer and caught my hand. His fingers wrapped around mine.

The monstrous wolf approaching the meadow stared with radiant gold eyes. A glint of intelligence shone in its deadly glare. The lycan wasn’t acting on instinct. No, it had the power to reason. And that made it very, very dangerous.

“Time to get our butts moving, Trent,” I whispered.

Trent didn’t move. “Just…wait a minute.”

My pulse raced. “For what? To become wolf chow?”

The giant wolf licked its lips, a snarl rumbling from its throat. The lycan’s golden gaze locked with Trent’s equally unfaltering green stare. The lycan snarled again.

I stole a glance at Trent. He glared at the lycan, his face set, his mouth a thin line. His eyes flickered from emerald to black. The taut muscles of his jaw flexed and he barely blinked.

What the flying Fig Newton was he doing? Challenging it?

I turned back to the lycan. Squinting, I swore I’d glimpsed what could pass for an evil smile on its face before the lycan’s head jerked to the right. A twig snapped. Two deer stood frozen, ears pricked, at the edge of the water. They must’ve been getting a drink when the lycan appeared. The huge wolf raised its muzzle upward, its furry body silvered by the setting sun. The deer escaped into the woods and the lycan whirled on its haunches and loped after them.

“Uh, Trent, I think we’d better get the hell outta here.” My voice cracked, reedy against the onslaught of melodious howling.

“Yeah. Time to go.”

We crested the slight incline to our vehicles. Trent jumped into the Charger and waited. I jerked open the Jeep’s door and slumped onto the seat. My hands were shaking so badly it took me four tries to get the engine started. The Jeep roared to life and a breath pushed itself past my lips. I floored the gas pedal, forcing myself not to look back. The roar of Trent’s car following mine was reassuring.

Finding the lycan’s cave and listening to Daniel’s urban legend hadn’t done much to improve the lycan situation, except lead me to their hidden lair. And now I totally didn’t trust Daniel.

I mentally added him to my list of suspects. Sure, he was Trent’s friend and Ariana’s new boy-toy, but I was still suspicious of him.

And even with Trent’s help, it was still up to me expose the killer before the fur hit the fan.