Bladed Magic Page 3

  Oh, you’ve dropped your guard—

  I cut that memory off before I could let it go any farther. The nightmares were bad enough. If I let them continue to plague my waking hours, I might as well go back to hiding in my room the way I had the first few months I’d been here. Or just hit the road again, running from every sound, every shadow.

  Sighing, I met Colleen’s eyes. “I don’t know why you keep trying to figure me out. I don’t care.”

  “You should,” she said, her voice soft. “One of these days, you might need to know. Now come on. How often?”

  “Not very. Every now and then.”

  “Name a time.”

  Swallowing, I averted my gaze. “I don’t think you want to know.”

  “Kit…”

  Blowing out a breath, I met her gaze. “The day you called about your daughter.”

  She went white, her mouth tightening. Then, slowly, she nodded. “So that ended up…interesting for you.” Something glittered in her eyes and then she focused on my arm again. “Another time.”

  “Hell. What is this? Twenty questions? Remember that girl who TJ tried to help a year ago? Weird were-mix? Part wolf and part…something else.” I’d never been able to puzzle that one out, and sadly, she was too dead now for me to ask.

  “Cari.” Colleen lifted her brows. “She’s the one who had some fucked-up family members come looking for her.”

  “They found her,” I said softly. I’d told TJ. The men and women who’d come through TJ’s doors had been looking for trouble, and a lot of it. TJ was more than willing to dish it out. I wasn’t quite so ready for it, but I’d settled myself in the corner with a gun. Not my favorite weapon, but if I had to deal with weres of questionable sanity, I’d go for something with serious stopping power.

  But Cari had decided to leave with them.

  TJ had said she didn’t have to.

  Cari had almost taken the lifeline TJ had given. Almost.

  Instead, she’d followed them out the door and it wasn’t until we heard Goliath’s roar shaking the very foundations of the building that we’d raced outside. They’d seen that slight hesitation, and now Cari lay face-first on the concrete, her father slamming her into the concrete so hard, it busted underneath the force of the blows.

  Goliath had lunged himself forward and had already taken down six of the weird were-things. They resembled something between a bat and a wolf, misshapen and awkward, with too large heads and limbs that were too long for their bodies. But they were strong and once they saw the danger—Goliath—they’d thrown themselves at him with a fury.

  If we’d gotten to her sooner, we might have been able to save her.

  But by the time Goliath cut down the stronger ones and TJ and I dealt with the weaker ones with either silver bullets or silver-tipped bolts, the father had come out of whatever fury had possessed them. Holding Cari’s head in his hands, he’d simply wrenched it off her shoulders.

  For months, I’d seen that every time I closed my eyes.

  “Every time it happens, it’s because some sort of trouble is brewing,” Colleen murmured.

  “The trouble already brewed. My cup of trouble runneth over, even.” If life was fair, I’d never deal with any more trouble again. Sadly, life wasn’t fair. Very often, life just sucked. She laid her hands on my arm and I took a deep breath, braced myself.

  “This will hurt,” she warned.

  “No shit.”

  I managed not to scream. Barely.

  Chapter Three

  Ever heard the phrase like a dog with a bone?

  That describes Colleen.

  It was nearly an hour later, down in the bar, and she was still going at me.

  I had my hand wrapped around a highball, two fingers of whiskey—nothing near as potent as what TJ served her regulars, but stronger than what humans drank. Colleen was at my side, leaning in, her voice low as she asked, “So when is it the worst? When you act or when you do nothing?”

  “What?” I asked, tired. Pressing the glass to my forehead, I tried to ignore the headache pounding at the back of my skull. Heavy healings could do that. Toss booze on top and I was going to feel like shit in the morning, but I was hoping the alcohol would slow the racing in my mind.

  My skin still crawled.

  I still felt like something in the air was whispering…get ready, get ready…

  “This weird feeling you get. When is it the worst? When does it fade the quickest?”

  Popping one eye open, I stared at her. She had a pretty face, milk-pale skin, green eyes, red hair. Irish to the bone and beautiful with it. As gentle as she looked, she was stubborn as hell. I guess that came with being Irish, too. “You’re not going to shut up about this, are you?”

  “Nope.” She smiled sunnily at me. “We’re still trying to understand everything you are, remember? Nothing much in the Assembly database about you and all.”

  She kept her voice down, but I still winced and skimmed a quick look around.

  Nobody seemed to notice.

  “Fine.” Huffing out a breath, I thought back. “The day I went after Mandy. Once I was actually doing something, all my energy focused on the doing.”

  “Like you were supposed to be doing just that.” Her gaze went thoughtful, not sad the way I would have expected when I said her lost child’s name. “You think it would have passed easier if you’d tried to help with Cari?”

  “I did.” The words slipped out of me, soft and reluctant. “I went to follow her outside, telling TJ the girl shouldn’t leave. But she said it wasn’t up to us. I could almost see the death on her. Once I got outside, I thought I could stop it…but we were too late.” I shrugged and tried to brush it off. “After that, TJ had wards put up around the place. You know, you helped make them. But that’s what brought it on. If people want in here, they have to really want it. It’s the hardest on strangers. People she knows can come and go almost easily, but if you don’t know TJ, you’re shit out of luck.”

  “Like Cari’s family.” She nodded and went silent. After a few moments, she said, “It’s your instincts.”

  I’d spent those moments tending to my whiskey, and I’d tended it well. So well that I needed a refill. But before I caught Mac’s eyes—he handled the night shift—I glanced at Colleen. “What do you mean?”

  “It’s part of you, I think.” Something burned in her eyes. “It’s what you are. You’re supposed to be acting. You are guided by those instincts, Kit. I’ve seen it a hundred times. And I—”

  She stopped, frowning. Then she groaned and looked around. “Why is he…”

  The wards on the door sparked, hard and bright green.

  “Hell.”

  I scowled and looked up just in time to see a familiar man saunter through the door. He passed through the wards like they were made of gossamer and fluff. That meant only one thing—he was either stronger than the wards, or he’d helped craft them.

  Considering how strong he’d felt, I figure I knew which it was.

  That odd, itching sensation I’d felt all day started to get stronger as he shifted his gaze to me. Those startling green eyes focused on mine and he grinned.

  “Well, well, well. Just who I was looking for. Got a minute, Kitty-kitty?” Justin asked.

  I almost fell off my stool. “Kitty-kitty?”

  He smiled, but it was a cold smile, sharp enough to cut. He came closer and as he did, the currents of air moved and I caught it, the scent of blood. “I need to talk to you.”

  Behind me, I heard the door open, heard the familiar sound of TJ’s chair. “Back off, Justin. Last time you two talked, there was trouble.”

  “There’s still trouble,” he said, not taking his eyes off me.

  My heart had started to pump, slow and heavy against my ribs. And that weird sensing of waiting had sharpened down, clarified. This, a voice whispered in my ear. It’s this. It’s him.

  Part of me wanted to scream what, what, what?

  But I’d have tha
t answer soon enough.

  “Justin, if you don’t get out of my bar, I’ll have you dragged out by your—”

  “TJ.” I didn’t look at her, didn’t take my eyes off Justin’s face. “I’ll talk to him.”

  I don’t know who was more surprised. Her or me.

  All I knew was that some knot inside me relaxed.

  This…it’s this.

  That sense of waiting shifted and transformed. Get ready. Get ready.

  I’d felt it before. The day I went hunting…for a scared, foolish girl who’d almost gotten herself killed.

  We ended up in TJ’s office. It was the only place we were guaranteed privacy, other than my bedroom upstairs and I was definitely not inviting him up there.

  There was a condition, of course. There were always conditions. Especially with TJ. If we used her office, that meant she got to come along for the ride. She’d wheeled herself inside, along with Colleen. I didn’t bother arguing, although Justin looked like he wanted to. There wasn’t much point. Unless he knew how to circumvent TJ’s security system, she’d have a birds-eye view of what was going on in here, anyway.

  Once the door shut, I looked at him. “You smell like blood.”

  “So do you.” He lifted a brow. “I wouldn’t have figured you for having that sensitive of a nose.”

  “Why not? You do.”

  “Hmmm. But I’m a witch. It comes in useful.”

  Angling my head, I studied Colleen. “You smell it?”

  “No. Thank God.” Then she shrugged. “But Justin is a different kind of witch.”

  A different kind of witch. There were different kinds of witches? I hadn’t known that. Running my tongue across the inside of my lip, I pondered that. Through my lashes, I studied him, that pretty face, the dreads…and the weapons. Colleen wouldn’t touch a weapon if she had to. That sort of baffled me, but to each their own.

  They felt different, but nobody felt the same. I’d learned that much in the past few years. The air around him snapped bright, hard, while the energy around Colleen was something gentle, soft. She felt like a spring rain against my senses, sweet and gentle and renewing.

  He felt like a fighting fury, but a focused one.

  “So what kind of witch are you, then?” I asked him.

  “Does that matter?” He continued to watch me.

  “It does to me.” I flashed him a sunny smile.

  “Justin, stop playing games,” Colleen said tiredly as she moved over to an empty seat. “Justin’s freelance—he’s not affiliated with any of the Houses. I’ve explained about those. But he’s…well, he’s also a warrior. That makes him different, too.”

  Warrior—

  Useless. You shame us. A weakling among warriors…

  I jerked my mind back from the traps of the past. “So you can fight.” Rolling my eyes, I leaned my hips against the surface of TJ’s desk and waited. There had to be more to it than that.

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” TJ said, speaking for the first time since we’d come into the office. Her voice was gravelly, rough. “Witches, as a whole, are pacifists. Not by choice. It’s a racial thing, bred into them. They’d die before lifting a hand to defend themselves. They can’t. It’s not in them.”

  I opened my mouth. Shut it. After two more tries, I managed to say, “Then how do any of them survive?”

  “Because of people like me,” Justin said, and his green eyes glowed. “I was warrior born. Not only can I fight, but I like to fight and I’m good at it. I learned offensive arts from the cradle up and a lot of it was instinctive. I just needed guidance. That’s how the warriors are. Without us, they die.”

  “And without us…” Colleen interjected, shooting Justin a narrow look. “The warriors aren’t grounded. They lose focus and go on rampages. A witch-born warrior needs a focus. A job. A…mission, if you like. Justin is an independent, so that complicates things for him.”

  “You don’t belong to a House, so you don’t have anybody to fight for.”

  He shrugged. “In a nutshell. My mother was human. Dad was a witch with Red Branch—”

  “Crazy sons of bitches,” TJ muttered.

  Justin ignored her. “But he broke away from them when they refused to acknowledge my mother as his wife. They went off on their own. I was born. Things were okay the first few years, but then they were killed. I…”

  His voice trailed off and he stared at the wall. Then he shook his head. “Anyway, I didn’t want a House. Never saw the point in them. Bigoted, narrow-minded asses, most of them.”

  “You never gave the Road a chance,” Colleen said quietly.

  “The Road wouldn’t want me.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I’m good at what I do.”

  “And that is…?”

  He flashed me a grin and this one was a little bit wild. “I’m a jack of all trades, darling Kit. Investigator, bounty hunter, bodyguard…among other things. Which leads me to why I’m here.”

  I lifted a brow. The man had a flair for drama, I decided.

  He paced across the floor, stopping about three feet away. “You showered, so it’s faint. But you bloodied somebody. I can smell it. I wouldn’t connect it to him if I hadn’t had his blood all over me earlier. But there it is—I tracked it here.”

  “Bullshit,” I muttered. “You can’t track by scent.”

  “It’s not scent,” Colleen said as he opened his eyes and just watched me. “He can track by violence, by the feel of a person’s magic.”

  “Exactly.” His smile took on that hard edge again. “And he had your magic all over him. I’d never felt it before until I met you. I’d know it anywhere.”

  “So this is about the wolf who got in my face earlier.”

  “No. Although judging by the look on TJ’s face, I’m going to assume you all didn’t have a nice, happy little chat.”

  “Get on with it,” I said. My hands were sweating, my heart racing.

  He reached into his pocket. “I was tracking him anyway. Needed information. I latched on him easy once I caught his bloodscent…and your magic. Followed him home.” He had a piece of paper in his hand now. “We had a discussion. It ended badly. He’s kind of dead now.”

  My jaw dropped, but before I could even process that, he held out the paper he held. Automatically, I took it and looked down.

  Then, I looked harder.

  It was…me.

  “What is this?” I asked, my voice shaking minutely.

  “You tell me. I’ve been hunting for a friend of his for nearly a week. I finally track Rogers to his hidey hole and the place smells like my quarry, but I can’t find him. Missed him by hours. But I did find this…a picture of you. So you tell me…what is this?”

  Justin wouldn’t go into the rest of his case while people listened.

  TJ objected.

  Colleen gave me a worried stare.

  But every time I thought about turning away and just leaving, I had a weird little twist in my gut and that voice shrieked, no, no, no…this is it.

  Whatever this was, I needed to hear it. And I was starting to realize that I also needed to help, if I could.

  So I left. With a green-eyed witch by the name of Justin. He’d come on a motorcycle. I didn’t have a car, and my driving skills were…questionable at best. TJ might let me borrow one, but if I wrecked it—and that wasn’t just possible, it was highly likely—I’d be working doubles for as long as it took to pay her back.

  The idea wasn’t appealing. But then again, I wasn’t too sure about riding with him, either. As he threw a leg over the shiny chrome and black beast, I just stood there and stared.

  A knot lodged in my throat. If I got on that thing, I’d have to touch him. He’d be touching me.

  “You coming or not? We can’t talk about this here.” He paused and then said the worst possible thing. “You can’t help from here.”

  Jerking my chin up, I met his gaze mutinously. “What makes you think I want to? Why should I care about what you have
going on?”

  A soft laugh escaped him as he stared off into the night. The muted glow from the murky streetlights overhead did little to illuminate his features but I saw him just fine. He had the face of an angel—a fallen one, yeah, but he was still a work of art. Just then, he was somber, serious. “Kit, you’ve got it written all over your face. You can’t help yourself.” Then he looked back at me. “Not any more than I can. It’s what we do. And…you’ll care once I tell you what’s going on. Trust me.”

  I hesitated, still. I didn’t like it when people touched me. Not even Colleen or TJ. I’d just now managed to hold still when Goliath patted me on the back with one of his massive hands. Now I’d have to get on the bike…

  “Who hurt you?”

  I flinched at his gentle, soft question.

  Then I strode toward the bike and threw my leg over. “What in the fuck makes you think anybody hurt me?” I demanded.

  He didn’t answer.

  That was fine.

  I’d have a hard time smacking him down anyway. I had to deal with the knot in my throat first.

  We rode on the bike for nearly an hour. For the first twenty or thirty minutes, I sat rigid as a piece of steel, keeping as much distance between us as I could.

  Justin didn’t say anything, kept his hands on the handlebars of that sleek, shiny bike and the roiling energy of his magic had been pulled in until it was just the barest brush on my skin.

  It made it easier to relax—a little—and I let myself start to look around. He hadn’t told me that we’d be leaving Wolf Haven, driving to some point north of the place where I’d found some sort of refuge several years back. At first, I’d thought we were going to East Orlando and my heart had all but jumped into my throat, tension once more tightening my muscles as I remembered my last trip into East Orlando.

  I wasn’t ready to go back there.

  But then he’d headed off the highway, taking another road, and then another until we were all but lost in the Florida countryside. We probably weren’t more than an hour or so from Orlando—the so-called Theme Park Capitol of the World. The human tourists who came looking for thrills wouldn’t guess how close they were to absolutely nothing. Or maybe they would. After all, half of them went looking for a different kind of thrill.