Chapter 14

 

It was déjà vu. Something hooted on the balcony. She shook her head, snuggling deeper into the couch cushions. Must be a dream. The hoot came again.

Reece peeked over the back of the sofa and glanced out the French doors. The same, big owl that brought her necklace sat on the balcony railing. It stared at her with unblinking eyes and flapped its wings. It bobbed its head, agitated. It had come for a reason, and it wanted her to hurry. She pushed to her feet and opened the doors.

The owl flew inside and landed on a rafter. It moved up and down the steel beam, then flew to another and another.

She stared up. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"Hooo, hooo."

Her hand automatically went to her moonstone. A quick vision came. Andre. "Is Andre in trouble?"

The owl hooted one last time and flew out the French doors.

Reece hesitated, unsure what to do first, but she couldn't form a strategy when she hardly knew any facts. She tossed on a jacket and ran to her SUV. She rummaged in her purse for the address Andre had given her and raced to the exclusive area where he lived. The party was in full swing two estates down from his. Reece parked her SUV in the long line of Mercedes and luxury cars that overflowed onto the curb, then scrambled through the host's open gates on foot. She stayed in the shadows of lush landscaping and looked around. She didn't see anyone, but stately oak trees and bushes dotted the wide expanse of lawn. Was she in the right place? The owl hooted from a nearby branch.

Music blasted from the back patio. Splashes and happy shouts came from the pool. There were a lot of people here, by the sounds of it. All having fun. No screaming and running from werewolf attacks. She hunkered down to wait, and the owl flapped away, its mission complete. A half hour later, a lone figure turned the corner of the house and started to the street. When Andre passed the kitchen windows, light spilled over him. He was quite the looker, dressed in dark slacks and a pale blue, button down shirt, with the collar open. No wonder he expected his smile to melt her. He probably had to beat women away. He was making his way down the winding drive toward his Hummer when three shadows moved toward him.

A figure swooped from the rooftop to stand beside him. Benito. Reece didn't know if one gargoyle could keep three rogues at bay, so she hurried toward them.

The first rogue—an odd-looking wolf with spiky, black fur—ran toward Andre and leapt, almost as if it were playing. Benito caught it. He tossed it out of the way. The Were staggered when it landed, whimpered, and tucked its tail between its legs. The second and third rogues circled, waiting for an opening. Reece recognized the barrel-chested wolf. Its fur was the same salt-and-pepper gray as the man's hair in the restaurant. When it spotted her, it turned, teeth bared, to warn her off.

The younger looking werewolf seemed unsure of itself. It pranced more than it menaced. It kept looking back at its friend, cowering in the shadows. The big wolf swiveled its head toward Benito and Andre, then back to her. There were two of them. She was alone. Reece's muscles tensed for flight, but she forced herself to stand her ground. It crouched and sprang. She raised both hands in a half-circle. The wolf hit the energy shield and bounced backward. It immediately regained its footing and circled to the left, edging toward Andre. The young wolf jumped, and Benito tossed it upward. It landed on a tree branch, making a huffing noise as the wind was knocked out of it.

When the big wolf growled, challenging Andre, claws spurted from Andre's fingertips. His jaw began to lengthen. Just what they needed.

"Get Andre out of here!" Reece cried.

Benito wrapped his arms around his charge and leapt skyward into the inky darkness.

"Hey!" Andre called, and then they disappeared.

The Were caught in the tree tried to wiggle loose, couldn't get its footing on a lower branch, and fell. It landed in a heap on the ground. Reece glanced its way. If she could stun it and take it home, maybe they could get some answers. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, because the heavyset, gray wolf raced past her, lunged at the young wolf, and tore out its throat.

The rogue with the short, spiky fur yipped in surprise. It ran from the shadows to help the young wolf, but the gray rogue leapt between them. He gave it a sharp nip on the nose. It tried to edge past him, but he bit it again. It pawed the dirt, worried about its friend. Big Gray snapped a chunk from its shoulder. With a yelp, it turned and ran. The gray wolf followed behind.

Reece shot a blast of light toward the gray's retreating back, but he was too fast. When she turned toward the downed rogue again, the young Were was changing back into its human form. Reece hurried to it. She knelt, gripped her moonstone, and pressed a hand to its chest. Energy flowed through her, but it didn't stop the blood that gushed from the gaping hole in the rogue's neck. This wolf had been more slightly built than the others, and Reece saw why. A young boy, maybe only twelve or thirteen, stared at her with large, frightened eyes. She struggled for more energy, more something, but the boy's gaze glazed over, and his body went limp.

A gasp strangled her. The werewolf was just a kid—only a few years older than Joseph! What should she do? Her mind wasn't working. She couldn't think. No one would find the body for a while, not until the party broke up and people started for their cars. She couldn't bear to let him just lie there. She opened her cell and punched in numbers. "Damian?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. No." Her voice faltered.

"Tell me what happened."

When she finished, he said, "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything."

"I'm sorry you had to see that. You did everything you could."

"My magic didn't help."

"I'll call Pete. He'll take care of the body and call the parents. You get out of there. Come home."

She wiped tears from her cheeks. She couldn't stop crying. "Will you be there?"

"I'm on my way."

Her feet felt like lead. It took her too long to walk to the car. Her mind wandered on the drive home. She couldn't concentrate. She pulled into the parking garage and sat in her SUV for a while, trying to compose herself. The elevator doors opened and Damian came to sit beside her. "Are you all right?"

She gave a quick nod, turning her face from him. She didn't cry often, and she only did it in private.

"Benito's here with Andre. Andre's pretty upset. He said that he started to shift."

"I hate the rogues." Her voice didn't sound like her own. It surprised her. "I want to destroy them."

"Tell me the whole thing, from the beginning." His voice was so gentle, so kind, the words came pouring out. When she reached the part about the young boy, tears streamed down her face. His expression turned hard, but his voice stayed low and level when he said, "It's too bad we didn't find the boy first. When people are changed, they don't know what to do. They join the pack just to have some place to go."

The bastards! When they attacked people, the fevers came. If they survived those and their first change, the rogues came for them. They could join the pack or try to survive on their own and not harm anyone.

"But the boy was with the others. He would have attacked Andre."

"I'm not so sure. He was there, yes. But did he really understand what was happening? Benito said the female Were was almost friendly, that he didn't want to hurt her."

Reece sighed, remembering both young wolves' uncertainty. "This sucks."

"Yes, it does."

"Who'd attack a young kid? I know when a wolf changes, it loses control. It can't stop its urge to kill. But a kid?"

"The boy survived the attack and became a Were. That tells me someone chose him on purpose and had enough control not to finish him off."

"But why? Why change him at all? What's this about?"

"It's more than just money. Too many people are being attacked." He walked around the car for her. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to the elevator. Benito was waiting for them when they entered the loft.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Andre turned somber eyes on them. "What did they want? What would they have done to me?"

"I think they just came to collect you," Damian said. "They wanted you to join their pack."

"Join them? After what they did to me? Why would I do that?"

"Because, if you were on your own, you'd have nothing. You're a danger to humans. You can't control what happens to you. You're like them now."

Andre frowned. "Why not call me and invite me over? Why have three rogues surround me with their teeth bared?"

"If you felt threatened, there's a good chance you'd change. Once in your wolf form, your instinct would be to go with them."

Andre ran a hand through his thick, black hair. "And if I joined them, my father would still have to pay them."

Damian nodded. "Money's part of it, but every time they threaten someone, there's a risk. Something could go wrong. They don't care. This must be about power too."

"Power to do what?"

Damian shrugged. "That's what we're trying to find out."

His reasoning worried Reece. "But how much are they willing to risk? What happens if a new wolf refuses to join them or someone refuses to pay? What then? Wouldn't they worry that whoever they're blackmailing might work against them?"

"Leon." Andre stared. "Isabelle wouldn't join them. Now she's dead. Leon would do anything and everything to stop them from hurting someone else."

At the name, Reece's moonstone glowed. An image of an elderly man being attacked by the barrel-chested Were swam before her eyes. "Oh, no."

"A vision?" Damian asked.

Reece nodded.

"We should warn him." Damian glanced out the French doors at the pink light that tinged the horizon.

"I can drive," Reece said. "You can slump in the seat so that no one sees you."

"Take my Hummer." Andre tossed them the keys.

"Leon can come here," Reece said. "He can stay with us. It might be a little crowded, but he'd be safe."

"My house is bigger. We can go there." Andre's invitation didn't tempt her. Reece shook her head. "Werewolves have come for you twice there. I like being high up. I feel safer."

"Then go get Leon," Andre said. "If they came for me, they'll go for him too."

She and Damian hurried to the garage and sped toward the address Andre gave them. Reece wasn't sure why, but a sense of urgency pounded inside her. It was almost overpowering. She wanted to press her foot on the accelerator and roar through the city, but that would only get her a ticket. Her nerves didn't settle until they pulled in front of the duplex on Leon's quiet street.

Lamplight flooded from its front window. An arched, red door welcomed them. They hurried up the brick walk as the sun's rays poked above the horizon. "He's probably in bed," Damian said, looking around nervously. Her gargoyle must feel exposed, on the ground, so close to daylight.

Reece knocked firmly on the door and it opened. She pushed with her shoulder, and a pool of dark crimson swam into view. She swallowed hard. Not again. Damian wiped the door clean and they didn't step inside. Leon Trent was sprawled on the Oriental rug in his home's foyer. His throat was ripped out. Reece wiped a hand across her eyes as she stared at his left hand. Its pinkie finger was missing.

"Let's get out of here." Damian grabbed her shoulder and they hurried back to the Hummer.

Neither spoke for a few blocks. Then Reece asked, "Did you see his hand?"

"Someone's collecting pinkie fingers," Damian said. "As trophies. We've found three bodies like that before. We didn't think about werewolves. They generally do worse."

"Worse?"

"Some of the bodies are in pieces or half eaten."

She tried not to gag. Up until now, Eugene had been her worst nightmare. After recent events, he seemed small in comparison. Damian opened his cell and called Petersen. Then they drove in silence the rest of the way home.

When they returned to the loft, Andre looked from one of them to the other. "He's gone, isn't he?"

Damian nodded.

Benito tried to restore some kind of order. "It's Monday morning, dear girl. What are your plans for the day?"

Reece looked at the clock. She had an early morning class, and then the rest of her day was open. She couldn't cancel on such short notice, so she got ready and went to teach. It was a struggle to make it through the lesson. She was tired, upset. For once, her studio didn't ground her.

When she dragged herself home, Hecate was leaning against the kitchen counter, talking to the gargoyles.

"Where's Andre?"

"In your bed. Asleep. There was too commotion out here," Damian explained.

Weariness seeped into Reece's bones, but if she learned more spells, more magic, she could do more to stop the rogues.

"I've heard you had a busy night." Hecate glanced at the dark circles under Reece's eyes.

"I'm not used to seeing people killed."

"All the more reason to brew up some strong potions." Hecate motioned toward the counter, cluttered with a myriad of clay pots and glass jars. "I brought everything we'll need. It's time you have a witch's pantry."

To Reece, things had already been moving fast, considering she only recently discovered she was a witch. But the faster, the better. She and Hecate were busy, mixing and stirring ingredients into a soup pot, when Andre padded into the kitchen. He wore jeans and a rumpled, tee shirt. His dark hair stuck up, mussed, and stubble covered his jaw line. He rubbed sleep from his eyes.

"How are you?" Reece asked.

He gave her a wary look. "I couldn't sleep on the sofa with Damian and Benito muttering in the kitchen. When you got home…." His gaze wandered to Hecate, and his words stopped. He looked dazed. "Who are you?"

"I volunteered to be Reece's mentor."

"You're a witch?"

"An old, powerful one."

Andre couldn't take his eyes off her. Hecate smiled, amused, then turned her attention back to the potion.

"Can I help?" he asked. "I grew up in the restaurant business. I can measure and stir."

"I'm sure you can. I bet you have many talents, but we can manage." She reached for a glass jar. Dried herbs scented the kitchen when she lifted its seal.

"Are you making more of that stuff that made me itch?" Andre's voice sounded peeved.

Hecate turned. She studied him with interest. "Are you the new pup?"

"Pup?" At first, he looked offended. Then he grinned, understanding. "That would be me, and I need help and encouragement."

"I never mix with humans." She looked him slowly up and down. "What a sexy Were you are. Tutoring you could prove enjoyable."

He tried on his charm. "I'm humble and appreciative to those who are kind to me."

She laughed. "Tell you what, pup. You're underfoot here. When Reece and I are done for the day, what if I take you home with me?"

He narrowed his eyes, considering her offer. "What made you change your mind?"

"I'm weary of investing in humans. They die. You and I can remain friends a long time."

"Friends with benefits?" he asked.

"We witches don't bind ourselves to the rules of mortals. We have more… flexibility."

"Tell her that." Andre motioned toward Reece.

"She's new. She'll learn."

Andre gave Reece an assessing glance and shook his head. "She's as stubborn as Damian said she was. It'll take a long time."

Reece's head jerked up from the spell she was reading. "Damian said I was stubborn?"

Damian tore his view away from the French doors and the city beyond. "I told him he'd be on the sofa for his entire stay with you."

"Oh. That's right." She returned her concentration to the spell book Hecate had brought.

"Don't hover around," Hecate told Andre. "We have work to do." She turned to Reece. "Do you mind if I borrow him when we finish? I'll take good care of him. No enemy has enough magic to make it past my spells."

Reece waved a hand in dismissal. "He's yours."

"Where are you taking me?" Andre asked. "Where do you live?"

"Over my shop. But don't worry. My wolfbane is sealed tight in apothecary jars. It won't bother you."

"Will you bother me?"

"I promise."

Andre grinned and went to entertain himself by flipping through channels on the TV.

Damian tossed Reece a worried look, but when she glanced at him, he hurriedly looked away. What did that mean? Did he disapprove of letting Hecate dally with her pup? Should they have asked his opinion or permission? Reece shrugged. He was standing in the same room with them. If there was something he didn't like, he should have said so. But his look still bothered her. His opinion mattered more to her than she wanted to admit.