I couldn’t sleep. I was hyperaware of everything magical around me. Sienna and Rusty downstairs, the collected bits that I made into trinkets in the studio, and even the Magical Compendium on top of my bureau seemed to beckon. I’d never had to deal with residual magic from a casting like this before. It was as if the spell had hypercharged my dowser abilities to the point where I saw magic everywhere I looked. If I closed my eyes, I could feel it like the lightest of breezes all around me, following me from room to room and into my bed.
The residual eased a bit once Rusty and Sienna left, though they lingered long enough in the bakery kitchen that I was sure my chocolate supplies had taken a serious hit. But still, even then, lying in bed was getting me nowhere near sleep.
I pulled out the blanket my Gran had knit for me when I’d moved out of the house and into the dormitories at the University of British Columbia. The dorm had only been a fifteen-minute drive from Gran’s house and the university hadn’t stuck with me longer than two years, but I cherished the blanket. I spread it on the floor between my double bed and dresser, then sat down on it cross-legged. Yes, I was planning on actually meditating. And yes, I was doubtful of my ability to do so.
I removed my necklace and twined it around my wrists and through my fingers. Its supposedly fascinating magic — according to the vampire — didn’t bother me at all. I rested my hands on my knees, palms facing down to not invite more energy, and closed my eyes. I inhaled slowly and deeply, and when I exhaled, I imagined all the magic I felt coating me like good quality body cream — thick and luxurious — moving through my limbs, through my hands, and into the necklace.
Yeah, I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I didn’t channel magic. Hell, I didn’t hold magic in the palm of my hand and fling it away from me. Magic didn’t obey me … at least it never had before. I was just a detector, somewhat useful if another witch was wondering if they had a magical dud on their hands, or when collecting stones — such as jade — from the rivers in Squamish Valley. I could find things easier; that was all. At least that’s what I’d always thought the limit of my abilities had been. Then the vampire had showed up spouting off about the trinkets, and my necklace … and then … Hudson.
I threw up a blank wall between my thoughts of Hudson and my concentration on moving the magic out of my body and into the necklace. I’d been stupid. It was over now. It’s just … the bed behind me was a big reminder that I’d wanted to invite him here. I’d wanted to see if we danced as well horizontally as we had vertically.
I quashed those thoughts — for the second time. I’d never been good at focusing unless I was baking or making trinkets. I hadn’t had sex in six months, and my last romp had been spectacularly disappointing, then had hung around way past his welcome. I wasn’t hard up, but I was getting there. That’s all Hudson was … a distraction, a playmate.
I squeezed the necklace until the metal cut into my fingers. This was seriously uncomfortable, but it helped me refocus on my breathing.
I must have fallen asleep like that, upright and cross-legged in the middle of my bedroom floor.
I wasn’t sure what had woken me. My legs were going to scream bloody murder when I tried to move, but they were currently nicely numb. I looked down at the necklace draped between my hands and across my calves. It glowed lightly, which even my sleepy brain understood might actually mean I’d been capable of channeling magic into it. The glow also drew my attention to the general lighting of the room. It was nearing dawn.
Something scratched at the window, and there were no trees in the alley. The scratching noise repeated. I wound the necklace three times around my neck, very surprised that my arms obeyed. When shortened this way, it slung just over my collarbone.
The scratching was probably just one of my trinkets moving in the wind … though it sounded too regular and persistent for the randomness of wind.
It almost sounded like a dog scratching at a door to be let in … but it had been a long time since I’d owned a dog, and I was pretty sure a canine couldn’t climb onto a second-storey balcony.
I moved toward the window, again surprised that my legs had no issue with unfolding and holding my weight. As in my craft room, a small Juliet balcony hung off this window. This one held a few pots of lavender, not that it was nearly hot enough to grow lavender on a north-facing balcony in Vancouver. The plants seemed healthy enough, though, even if slow growing.
I pulled back the gauzy outer curtain and the thick blackout curtain behind it at the same time.
Kandy, her short green hair rain-slicked to her pale face, stood perched on the balcony, as the vampire had done outside the craft room. She’d jumped or climbed two storeys to stand on a wrought-iron balcony that was meant for show, not sunbathing. Wet, her hair looked almost black, but her eyes were the same vibrant green I’d seen them flash before. She stared at me. I stared back at her, wide-eyed.
It had obviously started raining in the night.
“Are you okay?” I rather mildly asked.
Kandy shook her head; she could obviously hear me through the glass. “You’ve been summoned.”
The green-haired werewolf’s voice was low and scratchy with dark emotion. Her eyes glowed greener, and I imagined that if I wasn’t behind the wards, I would feel her magic gathering around her.
The hackles on the back of my neck rose as my adrenaline kicked in. A werewolf very close to transforming stood on my balcony. The wards should hold her, but my neighbors had no such protection. If she turned, would she understand the idea of innocent bystanders? I hadn’t gleaned enough accurate information from the Compendium to know one way or the other. It declared all werewolves to be beasts in either form, but I knew now from personal contact they were no such thing — in their human form at least.
“Summoned?” I repeated.
Kandy nodded.
“Who has the right to summon me from my bed before dawn?”
Kandy showed me her teeth. I was sure they were pointier than they had been before. “Desmond Charles Llewelyn, Lord and Alpha of the West Coast North American Pack, son of Charles Abraham Llewelyn, a lord of the North American Assembly, requests your presence. Now.”
I didn’t like the sound of all those titles, but seeing as how I wasn’t a werewolf and was currently dry and warm in the safety of my own home, I kept up the brave front. “You expect me to follow you out into the predawn to meet some guy who has absolutely no authority over me? Ever heard of email or the phone? Hell, or knocking on the front door, for that matter?” And where the hell was Hudson? I didn’t ask that last part out loud, but I sure as hell wondered why he wasn’t at my door instead of Kandy on my balcony.
“I expect you to resist. I expect to test your wards. I expect to either die tearing through them, or to wrap my hand around your far-too-human neck and drag you from your bed.”
Well, that was exceptionally clear. My mind clicked madly through all the information I had gleaned from the Compendium about werewolves. Could she compromise my wards? Would they kill her? I didn’t like the idea of snuffing out the life of this vibrant, fiercely beautiful woman.
“And if I come willingly?”
“Your safety is guaranteed, from me at least. I’m simply the courier.” And I was obviously the package.
I looked beyond Kandy’s shoulder to where the mountains should be. The day was dawning gray and with lots of low cloud. The mountains were completely obscured. I knew I was going to go before I made my decision. I felt like my life had taken this odd turn and I wanted to veer back. If that meant talking to this lord guy, then that was just what it took.
Honestly though, part of me was intrigued and excited. Things such as vampires and werewolves just didn’t happen in Vancouver, to me at least.
“Five minutes,” I said, and I backed away into the bedroom. Kandy snorted in disbelief, crossed her arms, and kept her glowing green eyes on me through the window. Those eyes had dimmed a bit, actually. I took that as a good sign.
I pulled on jeans, a light sweater, and my Hunter rain boots. You didn’t live in Vancouver without wet wear. My boots were Original Tall Glosses in cornflower — a birthday gift from Gran. I pulled them on with an odd tinge of anger as I wondered if I was going through a late rebellion. The thought made me laugh, but only in my head. Kandy’s glower was too intimidating to feel lighthearted enough to laugh out loud.
“Bakery, alley door,” I called to Kandy. I left the bedroom as she dropped from sight. I seriously hoped all the neighbors across the alley were deep asleep and not witnessing that agility display.
I grabbed the last three cupcakes from the fridge as I passed through the kitchen, managing to knock a stool over as I crossed around the island with them in my hands. I left it rolling around on the ground, cursing the fact that Sienna was right and I should probably get rid of them.
I passed the cupcakes and a pink paisley umbrella to Kandy as I stepped from the back-alley door. She sneered at the umbrella but took the cupcakes without comment.
By the time we’d turned on to West Third Avenue, I trailed about a half step behind the werewolf and still had no idea where we were going. Kandy had inhaled all three cupcakes and not said a word to me. I figured the best way to make friends with a dog was to feed it. I hoped that held true for werewolves. Otherwise, I was pretty sure I was about to get the same treatment as the cupcakes.
“We’re walking?” I asked as we dodged through the cars parked along Vine Street to cross the road. Even with my Hunter boots and umbrella, I was going to get soaked.
Kandy didn’t answer. She walked fast enough that I always dragged a bit behind her. I assumed this was purposeful after I tried to close the gap a couple of times, so I just let it be.
We turned onto West First Avenue at the bottom of the hill, heading west. I could hear a few cars on Cornwall Avenue two streets north, but other than that, the very wet neighborhood was still asleep. We were heading vaguely in the direction of my Gran’s house. Feeling guilty about defying Gran’s rules of staying away from others of the Adept by traipsing through the early morning dawn behind a werewolf — wow, really not a rebel, was I? — I pulled my cell phone out of my sweater pocket, thinking Gran might be awake, only to have it snatched away.
I hadn’t even seen Kandy turn around. But in a blink, she had my phone in her hand. She started to tuck it into the back pocket of her jeans, which were soaked through to the skin.
“Wait! Please, that costs six hundred to replace. I just got it, on contract. You’re —”
“What?” Kandy snapped, interrupting. “What am I, witch?”
“Wet,” I answered, completely confused at the aggression. “I promise I won’t use it. I’ll turn it off.”
Kandy grudgingly handed the phone back to me, watching me as I shut it down. I tucked it into the front left pocket of my low-slung jeans. It felt awkward, sticking out there, but I thought it better if Kandy could keep an eye on it easily. The werewolf turned west again and I brushed my hand over the invisible knife I wore on my right hip. It was good to know that werewolves couldn’t see through magic — or not my grandmother’s magic, at least.
Fifteen more minutes trudging through the spring downpour, and we turned off into Tatlow Park. Kandy led me toward the First Avenue entrance. The park ran between Cornwall and West Third Avenue with multiple entrances. A kids’ play area, along with a parkboard house, was just off the Third Avenue entrance.
A short run of lawn quickly gave way to old, sparsely spaced fir trees. A little farther along, a walking bridge arched over a creek that usually ran dry. The park also continued across Cornwall to the north, but it was mostly lawn and ocean cliff there. I’d done a yoga class on the grass at sunset in that part of the park in July and August last year.
“We’re meeting in the park?” I couldn’t keep the dismay out of my voice. The thighs of my jeans were soaked through and getting uncomfortable.
Kandy didn’t answer, but she did stop. I closed the last two steps between us and waited. This close, I could see the sheen of magic on her skin. The rain seemed to sharpen it, or perhaps the reveal spell’s effect on my dowsing ability hadn’t fully worn off yet.
Kandy stilled — stiffened, actually — her gaze drawn beyond the walking bridge. I turned my head to see what she was looking at. I saw him, the brutal man McGrowly from the club, by a stand of trees. Behind him the cedar and fir trees thickened into a grove along the west edge of the park.
He was watching us. I had no idea how long he’d been there, and I couldn’t sense any magic from him at all. Though now that I was focused in that direction, I could feel something behind him. A collection of people and something else … something not right …
McGrowly gestured to Kandy and she stepped forward.
I didn’t want to follow. I didn’t want to step any closer to what I was now feeling behind him, but I did. I told myself I was simply hyperaware because of the reveal spell’s residual magic, and that there was nothing to fear in the small wood.
McGrowly didn’t take his eyes off me as we approached. It wasn’t an admiring gaze. Even calling him McGrowly in my head wasn’t helping with the intimidation factor. When we were in front of him, Kandy stepped off to the side, then slid around McGrowly to disappear into the thickening trees.
I waited.
He took my measure and came up unimpressed. My pink paisley umbrella seemed to amuse him, not that he smiled. I doubt his face was capable of such things.
He lifted his nose and scented the air. I’d never seen a human do so before. It looked funny. I smirked. I probably shouldn’t have.
“What are you?” he asked, his voice deep and demanding.
“What are you?” I snarked back. I knew without question that my tone was a problem for him, because the next thing I knew, I was pinned against a fir tree, my feet scrambling to find solid footing and my umbrella tossed to one side.
He wasn’t hurting me. His thick hand was spread across my upper chest, his fingers splayed across my collarbone. I was pinned, like a cat pins a kitten. I didn’t struggle and I didn’t meet his gaze, but I only remembered that last part because he wasn’t looking at my face. He was staring at my necklace, still wound three times around my neck. He’d been careful not to touch it. He must have been able to feel my heart thrumming against his palm, because I could. He seemed distrustful of the necklace.
I didn’t move. Hell, I tried not to breathe. The strength in that one hand scared the shit out of me, and was worse for the fact that he held me so lightly.
He flicked his eyes to mine. They were golden-brown and shot with flecks of iridescent green — emerald, like Kandy’s had glowed. However, he seemed completely in control, so I guessed that the kaleidoscope effect was normal for him.
I averted my eyes, and he huffed what was probably a snarky laugh — self-satisfied prick. He was completely aware that I was scared out of my mind, and he enjoyed it.
He leaned into me, his mouth slightly open, breathing in as if he was tasting my neck just an inch or so away from my carotid artery.
“What are you?” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question for me. He was just thinking out loud.
I answered anyway. I was stupid that way. Foolhardy, my Gran called me. “Half-witch. Half-human,” I snapped.
“Half-witch, yes. But the other half is something I’ve never smelled before. Something spicy, like Chinese food from Shanghai.”
“I do not smell like Chinese food!”
He laughed. It was a short burst of amusement at my expense.
“My back is digging into the damn tree,” I said.
“Does it hurt?” Oddly, it didn’t. Not exactly.
“It’s uncomfortable.”
“You deserve it,” McGrowly said, but it was a statement not an accusation.
“I told you, Desmond.” A cool voice spoke from behind me to the left. “The witch isn’t complicit, but she might be able to point us in the correct direction.” So McGrowly was Lord Desmond what’s-his-name. I should have known, what with all the high-handed pinning to trees going on.
“You didn’t tell me she smells like Chinese food, vampire.” The curl of Desmond’s lip was full of condemnation for the vampire, who had just stepped into my peripheral vision.
“It was not relevant,” the vampire said.
“I do not smell like Chinese food!” I repeated, not sure why I was making a big deal of it except it was just … insulting.
“The shifter is simply articulating, within his limited means, that you are not wholly witch.”
Desmond growled and released me. I ignored the urge to collapse against the tree and commanded my legs to hold me upright. They did. I didn’t miss the ‘limited means’ part of the vampire’s comment. He didn’t think highly of werewolves — or at least of Desmond.
“We haven’t been formally introduced.” The vampire held his right hand out to me. “I’m Kettil, Grand Conclave investigator —”
“ ‘Executioner’ would be more accurate,” Desmond interrupted.
I stared blankly at the vampire’s offered hand. I was doing a lot of that lately.
“I apologize for the incident on the bridge. I’ve discovered that I need to be … satiated to be around you for extended periods.” Well-fed, he meant. I made him lust for blood. Delightful.
“Playing nice now?” I asked as he inclined his head. “I’m still not going to touch you.”
Desmond laughed. No love was lost between these two predators, and maybe that was the problem. Vancouver was an awfully small territory for both of them to occupy. And here I was stuck in the middle — right now, literally. A cold wash of fear ran down my spine, but I covered by stepping toward and reaching for my umbrella. I didn’t fool either of them. When I turned back, I had two sets of too-bright eyes watching me. Perhaps the predawn gloom didn’t help, but I had the distinct impression I was a mouse being tracked by a cat or bat. The bat thought amused me, at least internally, and McGrowly smirked as if he could read my thoughts. He couldn’t, of course; that wasn’t within his werewolf abilities, according to the Compendium. He could smell my fear abate, though, and for some reason, that amused him.
“Come then,” he said as he turned toward the thick of the trees, where Kandy had headed.
“I don’t want to go in there, do I?” I asked no one in particular, but the vampire — Kettle-whatever — answered.
“The necklace and the knife should shield you, if you access their magic.”
“What knife?” Desmond asked. He kept moving forward, but glanced back at Kettil.
“The magic-imbued one she keeps, obviously invisibly, strapped at her hip. I guess your enforcer missed it.” Kettil spoke all distantly cool and without a lick of sneer.
Desmond’s face turned into a reasonable facsimile of stone as he huffed off into the trees. I felt bad for Kandy. I was pretty sure she was the enforcer Kettil had mentioned, and that her lord and alpha was now probably pissed with her.
The feeling of wrongness increased with each step I took. Access their magic, the vampire had said, but I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Still, I curled one hand around my necklace and one hand around the hilt of my knife. I hadn’t even thought to pull it on the damn werewolf, McGrowly, when he was pawing at me. My instincts obviously needed a reboot.
“I thought vampires didn’t like the dawn,” I muttered. I knew the vamp was somewhere behind me because I could still feel his magic, though I couldn’t hear his footfalls.
“Myth,” he answered, proving he was hidden within the shadows of the gloom and the trees just to the left of my shoulder.
Desmond snorted, but didn’t turn around. I wasn’t sure whether he was laughing at my question or undercutting the veracity of the vampire’s claim. I guessed I’d know one way or the other soon enough.
I rounded another fir tree. The sun was rising somewhere behind the cloud cover, and I unfortunately had no problem following Desmond’s too-broad shoulders in the lightening gloom.
I knew nothing good could be at the dark center I could clearly feel ahead. This darkness was encircled by other magical signatures … I knew Kandy well enough to pick her magic out from the others.
I was right, of course. My newly honed instincts for horror and misery hadn’t deserted me.
Though the gray sky was attempting to lighten with the dawn, the stand of trees was swathed in darkness. The boughs were so thick overhead that only an occasional drop of rain made it through.
I kept my eyes on the center of Desmond’s back; he was wide enough to block most of my forward view. I tried to not interpret the magic I was walking into. I tried to concentrate on the warm, earthy power emanating off the werewolf, or even the cold sharpness of the magic of the vampire behind me, whom I could still feel rather than hear. Actually, everyone but me was moving as if equipped with silence spells.
More magic surged up a few feet ahead. More werewolves. I wondered again at my heightened sensitivity, and whether the previous night’s reveal spell was more active than I thought. I wondered if this was going to be permanent, and wasn’t sure I’d be so enamored with that idea.
Desmond stopped and looked back at me. His eyes glowed green in the gray light. I couldn’t interpret his expression. He was too inscrutable for me.
He stepped to the side. The tall blond and the petite brunette werewolves from the club stood with Kandy in a small clearing beyond Desmond. They were all looking down at something on the ground, but shifted their glowing eyes up to me. It seemed everyone had enhanced vision here but me, and I was the only one hesitating to look down at the dark, oily patch of magic I could feel on the ground before me.
I looked down.
I’d already known what I was going to see. Why else would they have hauled me here? Why would all the wolves I’d met — except one — be gathered here?
Still, I expelled a painful moan before my throat closed up with emotion.
Hudson lay, obviously dead, beneath the fir trees. His body was sprawled across their roots, his beautiful, lean, sexy body flung like a teenager’s empty beer can — slightly crushed and utterly empty.
My chest hurt. I might not have been breathing.
Hudson’s eyes — now a dull, lifeless hazel — were open. His head was canted to one side.
“He was with you last night,” Kandy spat, but I barely registered her anger.
I was two steps away from his hand. It was palm up, fingers slightly curled. I wanted … oh, God, I had wanted to feel those hands on me … I had wanted …
“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Kandy asked.
“She’s not breathing,” the vampire — Kett — murmured.
The gray of the day was starting to blacken at the edges. The necklace, which I was still clutching, was cutting into the soft skin of my hand.
Desmond whacked me between the shoulder blades. The trapped air in my lungs and throat expelled in a sob. I stumbled forward as if only my held breath had been keeping me upright. My body demanded I inhale, and with the painful intake of air, the sickening stench of dark magic filled my senses.
I choked. I fell forward and then twisted to one side as Kett caught my right arm just above my elbow. I angled right, going down on that knee as my stomach heaved.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Hudson’s dead gaze.
“She’s going to throw up,” Kett said.
“She can’t do that here,” Desmond replied.
“What the hell is going on?” Kandy asked with a snarl.
“The magic makes her sick,” Kett murmured as I wrenched my arm from his grasp and tore my eyes from Hudson.
I stumbled away but didn’t make it far. I fell to my hands and knees, my empty stomach heaving as my body tried to expel the oily, dark magic I’d inhaled.
“Here,” Kandy said as she pushed a wet wad of paper towel into my hands. I’d given it to her with the cupcakes.
I had nothing to throw up but bile. Large hands, almost too hot but soothing because of that, brushed my hair away from my cheeks.
“She couldn’t have done it, then?” Kandy asked in a whisper to whoever was holding my curls from my face, suddenly sticky with sweat. I brought up another wave of bile into the paper towels cupped in my hands.
“No,” Desmond answered. “But she has a scent for the magic now. She’s a tracker.”
“I’m not a tracker …” I twisted my head, hair, and body away from him to lean against the tree I’d fallen by. Kandy tried to take the paper towel from me. I fought her for it. It was just gross.
“Let her have it, witch,” Desmond snapped. “You don’t want it anywhere near here when the human authorities get their hands on the site.”
Kandy folded the used paper towel and then took off through the trees. Feeling insanely weak, I peered through my tangle of curls at Desmond, who still hovered over me. I really, really wanted to close my eyes, but was wary of doing so with him in the vicinity.
The next thing I knew, the petite brunette with the bee-stung lips was leaning over me with a bottle of water. Her eyes were rimmed red from unshed tears. I grabbed the water and knocked it back, only to have Desmond snatch it out of my hands after just one sip. Water dribbled down my chin and he wiped it off with a swipe of his thumb.
“Slowly,” he cautioned. Could I get any weaker or more inept in front of this man? Probably not. I squeezed my eyes shut, forgetting my earlier caution.
“Thank you, Lara,” Desmond said.
By her quick retreat, he was obviously dismissing the girl. Okay, I peeked. He settled down on his haunches to glower at me from a more even level. I refused to look at him, but did accept another sip of water.
“You were with him, then? Last night?” he finally asked, kinder than I had any hope of him being in this moment.
“No,” I answered, and then had to pause to work around the sobs that started to choke my throat again. Desmond surrendered the water bottle to me completely, then looked away.
I struggled with the well of emotion a bit longer, then finally gave into the tears, allowing them to stream silently down my cheeks. I banged my head lightly back against the tree trunk and gritted my teeth. “I hardly knew him,” I finally cried. My voice was far too loud in the stillness of the trees.
“He had that effect on people,” Desmond murmured, but he still didn’t look at me. He didn’t seem uncomfortable; more respectful than judgmental.
I tried another sip of water as I brushed the tears from my cheeks. “We were supposed to go out for dinner.”
“Supposed to?”
“He stood me up.”
Desmond fixed his green-flecked eyes on me and raised one eyebrow in a smirk. It was darker than the tawny, untamed hair on his head. “I doubt that.”
“Is there … is there a trinket on him?” I asked, dreading the answer.
Desmond nodded. “Three.”
I clamped my hand across my mouth to stop the moan of pain this confirmation triggered. “I’ll destroy them all,” I said.
“That would be a shame,” Kett said. He had appeared out of nowhere to loom over my right shoulder.
“They … they’re obviously evil!”
“No. Someone is using them to anchor their spells. Whoever it is must feel they need the extra magic, because whatever they’re doing is destroying all the magic contained in the trinket, as far as I can tell. You might be able to pick up some residual magic. I cannot.”
“Who is strong enough in this town to take down Hudson?” Desmond asked.
“Me, I suppose,” the vampire answered. “Not many others, unless I have a rogue on my hands. But rogues don’t usually dabble in black magic.”
“Vampires don’t do spells?” I asked, my curiosity momentarily distracting me.
“No, they just are black magic,” Desmond answered with a growl.
Kett ignored McGrowly to turn his cool blue eyes on me. For a moment, I thought the vampire wasn’t going to answer. Then he said, “Rogues rarely take the time to develop such skills.”
“Yes, they’re usually too busy running from the executioner,” Desmond said.
“The same could be said of the shapeshifters,” Kett answered coolly.
“Shifters don’t choose to be loners,” Desmond snapped, his energy visibly bristling around him. Well, at least I could see it.
“There are exceptions to every rule,” Kett said. He turned his attention back to me. The vampire and the shifter assessed me for a moment, and I gathered the subject matter had shifted back to include me. “A group of magic users might be strong enough to take down a werewolf of Hudson’s status. Perhaps more easily if he was surprised. A coven, perhaps.” The vampire held out a hand to me.
I guessed he wanted to help me to my feet, but I wasn’t particularly interested in touching him. He raised a rather mocking eyebrow at me. It was an oddly human expression on his ice-carved face. “Your resistance to the magic will grow,” he said. “We need you to take a closer look at the body, to tell us what sort of magic we are dealing with, and hopefully how many casters.”
The body … You mean Hudson, I wanted to scream, but didn’t.
Desmond stood with the fluid move that freaked me out every time I saw it. I was starting to figure out that the more powerful of the Adept spent a lot of time trying to pass for human when in mixed company. It must be exhausting to do so.
I rolled to my feet, using my knee and then hands to get up. I was unsteady, but I wasn’t interested in leaning on anyone. “I have no idea how I can help,” I said.
“I’ll show you where to look,” Kett said. “None of us has your gifts, nor your connection to —”
Kandy appeared suddenly from the trees, once again moving far too quickly to be wholly human. “Too late,” she said. “We’re almost busted.”
Kett and Desmond both turned their heads as if listening, but I didn’t hear anything.
“Yes,” Kett said, though what he was agreeing with, I didn’t know.
“Take her home, Kandy,” Desmond said. He stepped back toward Hudson.
“What?” But then I heard the sirens, far off but approaching. “You’ll let the cops take him and see this?”
“If we’d found him sooner, perhaps we could have tried to clean up. But it is better to go through official channels now,” Kett answered. “Our agendas are not one and the same, the shapeshifters and I.” The vampire turned to follow Desmond. I didn’t get the warning his last sentence implied.
“Come,” Kandy prodded. “We need to go now to not be seen. You move so boringly slow when you’re walking, not like when you dance at all.”
I ignored the green-haired wolf as Kett turned back. “I’ll pick you up as soon as I can arrange a viewing. Though it might not be until this afternoon.”
A viewing … he meant the morgue. They wanted me to see Hudson in a morgue. I wasn’t sure I was up for that, and yet I felt utterly responsible and outraged at his death.
“I’ll be ready,” I said. Kandy nodded her approval as I added, “Don’t … try to limit the number of people who touch him, please. Normals don’t really matter, I don’t think, except you might not know if they are magical or not.”
“That won’t be easy. Intimidation doesn’t work well with the police, and Desmond and I are not especially —”
“Diplomatic? Relatable? Charming?”
“Yes,” Kett said. He walked away.
“That was Hudson’s job,” Kandy whispered mournfully. She began to drag me through the trees in the opposite direction from which we’d arrived.
“Diplomacy?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I could see that,” I said and didn’t bother stopping the renewed leakage at the corners of my eyes.
A side glance at Kandy showed that she too wasn’t as tough as she pretended … or maybe Hudson had just been worth the tears.