“Let’s get him out,” Lansky said, and Ronan hauled open the door.
The man inside—human, by the scent of him—toppled lifelessly into Ronan's arms, his limbs as stiff as those of a weeks-old corpse.
“What the fuck?” Ronan dragged the guy to the ground, propping him up against the truck’s massive front wheel. "There's not a scratch on him, but he’s a human popsicle.”
Jael crouched down and checked for a pulse, then shook his head. After a beat, he closed his eyes and said, “This man did not die from exposure or natural causes. This is fae magic at work."
“Darkwinter?” I asked, approaching the body.
“Worse. The spell that took this man’s life force has a dual signature belonging to two extremely powerful fae.” Jael got to his feet, his typically smooth face creased with deep lines of concern. “Fenlos and Talia.”
“The bloodycouncil,” I said. Emilio had known Talia would turn up in all of this again, he just hadn’t known how.
“The bloody council," Jael echoed.
“Looks like they’re not hiding behind their bullshit pretenses anymore,” Ronan said.
“No,” Jael confirmed. “This spell could’ve easily been camouflaged, even from me. They wanted us to know of their involvement, and to draw the next logical conclusion.”
“Which is?” I asked.
“That if the two highest-ranking members of the fae council are blatantly using their magic to sabotage us in a battle against the Darkwinter and the hunters, then theentirecouncil has already chosen sides. It’s just as Emilio feared.”
Lansky crouched down to check the body. “Yeah, this guy’s been dead at least two weeks. Which begs the question…” He stepped around the front of the cab to the other side of the road, then returned. “How did he get here? He’s got no visible injuries and a fae magical signature. His truck literally appeared out of nowhere—there are no tire tracks on the other side of the road, and the only tracks on this side are from two vehicles—mine and Ronan’s. Highway patrol has closed just about all the roads. No one else is out in this shit right now.”
That was it, I realized. The thing that’d been bothering me about this. There were no tracks through the snow. The truck hadn’t been driven here. It was put here magically.
Lansky blew heat into his hands, spinning around to take in the rest of the scene, putting the pieces together. “Jael, you said these fae wanted you to detect their signature—you’re the only one of us who could.”
“Yes, they know by now I’m working with you. Orendiel would’ve told them about my involvement in freeing the witches from the warehouse. The public fight Kallayna and I staged would also lend credence to the fact that I’d betrayed them all, including my sister.”
“Okay,” Lansky said. “So they know you’re on our side. And they also knew, somehow, that we’d gone for a supply run today, and that we’d be takingthisexact route back, even though we didn’t take it on the way out, and there are three other routes we could’ve taken to avoid the highway closures. This is a setup.”
“No, not a setup,” I said, catching a new scent on the frigid air. Lansky’s eyes suddenly widened—it seemed he’d caught it, too. “An ambush.”
It was a sharp animal odor, but not completely natural. Shifters, I figured, though not a type I’d ever encountered before. “There,” I said, nodding at a faint movement I’d just caught in the woods bordering the road. I was likely the only one who could see it through the snow. “In the trees.”
“Haley, get in the van!” Lansky barked, and drew his weapon as the big cats shot out into view.
There were six of them, snow-white but for their reflective blue-green eyes. Their body shape gave the impression of mountain lions, but these creatures were about four times larger, with thick, corded muscles and powerful jaws that looked like they could crush bones very little effort.
“Why aren’t they attacking?” Ronan asked as the beasts came to a stop at the edge of the road, about fifteen feet from us.
“Because you’ve got a witch in your pocket, dumbass,” Haley said, and immediately the scent of human blood filled my nostrils. I turned to see that said witch was not in the van as Lansky had ordered, but kneeling down in the middle of the road, squeezing blood from her fist into a small pentagram she’d traced in the snow, her other palm facing out toward the shifters, as though she’d stopped them by her will alone.
When she’d squeezed the last drop of blood from her fist, she pressed the wounded palm against the symbol. The snow around it glowed briefly, then melted.
Before I could evenaskwhat that was all about, she got to her feet, turned her palms face up, and began to chant, slowly pacing out a circle around us.
Spirits and guides, ancestors all
I call on you now, each one and all
I offer my blood in exchange for protection
Delay this attack from every direction
Let all who dare breach this circle I cast
