Font Size:  

It felt good to talk inside his head, and there was an even easier quality to it than he'd experienced with the second mark. Rand recognized it, too.

Cai wouldn't leave him here, but that tiny corner of his soul that wasn't a selfish bastard wished he could keep Rand from going with him into the bowels of the Trad world. And bowels was exactly the right word. They'd be neck deep in shit, with nothing but their wits and bare hands to survive it. Let alone rescue a girl who was likely already dead.

He was a complete dumbass for agreeing to do this.

Chapter Eleven

They took their leave with little fanfare. Cai had no interest in a tearful parental admonition from Leona, and veiled threats from Georg would just piss him off. Rand had returned from his meet with Gideon and Daegan with tactical information about approaches and exit strategies that were unexpectedly helpful to the plan Cai was formulating in his mind. They'd given Rand a burner phone he or Cai could use to report location updates. Daegan and Gideon would be following behind them, staying near as possible without spooking the Trad enclave.

"They get that they can't be too close," Rand had told Cai. "But they'd rather be twenty-five miles away instead of a few hundred, if we need backup."

It made sound sense, though Cai avoided admitting it. "Okay," he said. "Long as they understand we have a far better chance getting her out if Goddard and his bunch have no fucking clue anyone's in the area looking for her."

"They do."

Cai didn't want Gideon involved in any of this, but a human who could hunt vampires effectively would know the meaning of the word stealth. Cai couldn't deny that. And he expected Daegan was like a shadow himself.

He and Rand left out the kitchen entrance, because it was the quickest way to the van that had been pulled up to the house. Cai noted someone had courteously cleaned the interior, so not even a whiff of his blood was detectable. "You know, if being Voltaire's muscle-brained bitch doesn't work out, you have a promising career in cleaning crime scenes," he told Chavez, who handed over the keys.

"Fuck you. Just bring her back," Chavez said. "Or we'll hunt you down and what I did to you will feel like the best day of your life.'

"More threats. How original. Do me a favor and stand directly behind the van as we're pulling out."

Chavez sneered. "Georg's desperate if he's asking some scumbag Trad for help. You can say you aren't one all you want." His nostrils flared. "Smells like one, acts like one, is one."

"Better that than a bunch of sycophants pretending to care about his daughter being rescued, when what you really hope is she isn't. Then you can fight over his job when he falls to pieces."

Chavez's jaw clenched, along with his fists, and Cai braced himself for another match. He was fortified with Rand's blood and he wanted some payback. He also wouldn't mind spilling off some of the tension that was building up in him. If Chavez had had to face the things Cai had faced with Goddard, he'd shit himself three different ways, curl up in a ball and call for his mommy. Cai had been down that road, so he knew it was true.

He took a step forward, encouraging Chavez. But Chavez's gaze shifted past him, toward the kitchen door, and he backed off. Cai could feel her there, Lady Lyssa, but he pretended not to see her. Rand could handle the niceties.

Cai really didn't want to talk to anyone, feel the weight of anyone else's expectations. This would either work or it wouldn't. A bunch of words wouldn't change anything.

He handed the keys to Rand and climbed into the back. He wasn't completely recovered from the wound in his chest so, even though it was still a few hours from dawn, he'd probably take a nap in the back seat for the full re-charge while Rand handled the driving.

Despite all the other possible drawbacks to this evening, one thing pleased Cai. The third mark had given Rand the extra boost needed. There was no evidence, inside or out, of Rand's previous injuries from the hunter.

On the down side of things, Cai saw the queen coming toward the van and stifled a muttered curse. Figuring Rand wouldn't obey him if he told him to peel out before she could get there, Cai slouched down in the seat behind him. Jacob was with her and offered Rand a zipped tote through the driver's open window. "Some food for the trip," he said. "To help keep you both fortified."

Rand nodded his thanks. Jacob turned and rolled back the passenger side door of the van for Lyssa. Cai stayed in the same position, pretending to be half asleep. He could feel Rand's wincing disapproval. Yeah, some part of Cai might want to straighten and assume a more respectful pose, but he seemed to have a contrary side that refused to let him do things the easy way.

"There's no need for a send-off," Cai said gruffly. "My chances of failure are astronomical. I'll send your girl back to you if I can get her. But I don't expect to cross your path again."

"Pity. I was planning a ticker tape parade down Madison Avenue if you succeeded." Lyssa's gaze held a touch of dangerous humor. "Give me your hand."

She put her own out, palm up. Cai paused, but then shrugged and complied. Her fingers were slim and strong. She wore a small ring on one, a whimsical trinket, rather than the expensive heirloom he'd expect. It was pewter, with a small fairy design.

"Creation magic is a powerful thing," she said. "You've experimented with it some, but because the Trads wished to exploit it, you've done your best to explore it as little as possible. Am I correct?"

Cai lifted a noncommittal shoulder and she made an equally neutral noise. "Don't overlook its use as a weapon or ally where needed. Such magic is hard to quantify and often opens your path to other abilities you didn't know you had."

There was a noticeable energy in her palm, that met a similar energy in his own. As she lifted her hand, Cai blinked at the sight of a small rosebud clasped between them, still glowing with the combined energies that had created it. Lyssa smiled at his startled look, and she released him, leaving the rose in his hand.

"You are an angry person, Cai," she said softly. "With many dark spaces and things to resolve. But I believe you're also a good and honorable male."

"No offense, but if you think that, you're a rotten judge of character."

"It's not your behavior which has told me this, but his." She nodded to Rand. "He wouldn't follow one not worthy of it."

He snorted. "He's even more of a dysfunctional mess than I am. I wouldn't trust his judgment, either."

That touch of humor came and went again, and she stepped back. "Do your best, Mordecai, and you'll have my gratitude. As well as Lord Greenwald's. You may not seek friends, but we often need them in the world. Goddess keep you."

Jacob moved to close the door, but Cai straightened and handed the rose back to Lyssa. "For safe keeping," he said. "Nothing beautiful should be going where we're going."

She sobered. "I'll keep it safe and growing until your return, and we'll put it by Dovia's be

dside together."

Cai had no reply to that. He practically sighed in relief when Jacob closed the door. Taking that as his cue, Rand turned over the engine and put the van in gear.

A glance in the rear-view mirror showed the wolf looking...optimistic. The little magic show had apparently given Rand a needed spike of hope. Cai wished it was possible to borrow the feeling.

Though it was a couple hours to daylight, a pre-dawn mist cloaked the asphalt drive up to the house. It was peaceful and quiet here, the air flavored by the nearby active horse farms; grass, glossy flanks and the oddly not unpleasant faint odor of manure.

"So where should we drop off the van?" Rand ventured when they reached the turnoff to the highway.

Cai gave him a mental map of the national park he had in mind. "Once we reach that part of West Virginia, that's where we'll hit the hiking trails, then leave those behind. If humans have seen Goddard's group and lived to tell the tale, they'll be classified as some kind of anti-government, off-the-grid types. Which, multiply that by a crazy power of three, and you have Trads. Throw in a few doses of total psycho serial killer mentality and that's Goddard. He's a warm and fuzzy guy. We should bring him some Girl Scout cookies as a peace offering. Or just Girl Scouts. Even better. Now, tell me about this shifter pack you think is nearby."

Rand glanced up at him in the mirror. "Good memory."

"Hey, I'm the guy who remembered fucking you was on my to do list, even when I was interrupted by a several hour beating." Cai tapped his forehead. "Mind like a steel trap."

"More like a lump of iron," Rand scoffed, but he answered Cai's question. "Several years ago, a family I knew lived in that area. We lost contact, but if they're still there, it's possible they could help us locate Goddard faster. They tend to keep track of human or humanoid movement."

"Why didn't you go looking for them after you lost your own pack?"

"It doesn't work that way." Rand shook his head. "You have to observe the proper protocols, be invited. I wasn't ready for any of that."

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like