Chapter 34

“Mages don’t hate witches,” is Az’sdeclaration halfway between the pack house and Homewood Park.

I glance over at the woman beside me. She’sbeen quiet since we left the house, and I don’t quite know where herpronouncement is going to lead. “Okay.” It seems like the safest thing to say.

“I mean, it takes a lot of energy toactually hate someone. Most Mages are actually rather indifferent to witches. Witchesaren’t a power threat, and as long as you give them their own holiday everyquarter or so they don’t put up much of a fuss.”

“So our puppet master sees witches as anexpendable commodity. That’s not news, Az.”

“Salem’sFury is supposed to be tremendously painful. Judging by the pictures you tookof the others, Olivet is burning them out while they’re still conscious. That’snot necessary. You can drain a witch while she’s unconscious.” Az pulls thecuffs of her flimsy, not-at-all-practical cardigan over her hands. “Andwarlocks don’t generally try to piss of witches because they’re parallel on thepower scale. Unless he was seriously abused by witches when he was a kid orsomething, I can’t see him torturing them like this.”

“What are you saying?” I think I canfollow her rabbit trail, but it’s always best to be sure. For all I know, she’sgetting ready to tell me that the Easter Bunny is the one behind this madness.

“You know who hates witches? Otherwitches. Witches hate Mages, too.”

“So you think a witch is behind all this.One who wants to blame a Mage for the attacks and then step in to take overwhen the dust settles.”

She groans and thumps her foreheadagainst the window. “I don’t know. I told you, the math doesn’t add up rightanymore. Nothing makes sense.”

“Jessicadid call it the Age of the Witch.”

“Exactly!” Az slumps as low as theseatbelt will allow. “But that could just be bullshit Olivet and his master useto keep the witches in line. They’re likely to be more complacent if they thinkthey’ll have a prominent place in the new hierarchy.”

“But they won’t because if the puppetmaster is a witch, then she won’t like having so much potential competitionaround.” We were on the right page. Miracles do happen. It makes sense, too. Ifyou’re going to go around torching witches, you don’t want to risk keeping thesurvivors around to spread dissent.

“Neither will Olivet. As soon as the man,or woman, behind the curtain steps out, Olivet will have outlived his purpose.”

“I assumed as much, but how can you besure?” I take one hand off the wheel to pat her knee. “Congrats on the reference, by the way.”

She glares as she brushes away my hand. “Iwas sheltered, Rick, not under a rock.”

“You don’t know who MacGyver is.”

“I’m sorry,” she snaps, “as soon as thisis over, I’ll promptly sit down for a marathon. Anything else I should watchwhile I’m at it?”

“I’ll make a list.”

Her frown deepens, but she doesn’t argue.If we make it through this in one piece, I’ll join her for that marathon. It’llbe nice to numb my brain for several hours. Not to mention how nice it’ll be tosneak in a little couch cuddling while we’re at it.

“Olivet mentioned a dynasty,” she says,voice still strained. “We figured I was his prize at the end of the rainbow,but someone’s been lying to him. Not just about me being a witch, but about thefuture. There is no magical dynasty in the offing. For my twenty-firstbirthday, my father arranged for me to have a hysterectomy. One void in a bloodline is too many.”

What do you say to that? ‘Sorry’ soundstoo trite. I’d offer to kill the bastard, but I’m not sure if that’d be for mybenefit or hers. I have to actually bite my tongue to keep from offering to buyher a pony or a damned unicorn or something.

“My mother bought me three cases of BudLite and a box of condoms, and set me up on a blind date with one of her cougarfriends,” is the best I can do.

“Literal or figurative cougar?”

“Both.”

“Ouch.”

I’ve never given a thought to havingkids. My pack members are my children. Having a mate never figured into mylong-term plans. In my mind, I’ve always assumed that if I passed on control ofthe pack, it would go to Greta or her children.

There’s no reason for that plan tochange.

“If you’re trying to scare me off,Princess, it’s not going to work. This just means that the pack only has oneweek of hell every month. If you think Greta’s a hard ass now, you just waituntil the middle of the month.”

She flashes a quick grin. The atmospherein the truck lightens, and the knot in my stomach eases. “So,” she says, “we’reeither dealing someone who knows me and is lying to Olivet or someone whodoesn’t know me and is just making stuff up to keep Olivet happy. It’s a witchor a really pissed off Mage.”

“What you’re saying is that we don’tactually know a whole hell of a lot.”

This time she pats my knee. “Nope.”

“Wonderful.”

The small parking lot near the entranceto the park is empty. I don’t hear any children or adults, but I do pick up thefaint sound of someone moving through bushes. Two steps into the park, the windshifts and the stomach-churning aroma of unwashed not-Shifters rolls across us.I’d say we’re in the right place.

“Stay behind me. Keep your weapon ready. Don’tdo anything stupid.”

Az rolls her eyes, but moves in behind mewith her Kahr in hand. She doesn’t have to like my instructions; she just hasto follow them. Now, if she can refrain from doing anything that’ll put herselfin jeopardy, we’ll be golden.

Az’s hand on my back, I creep through theyoung trees and low bushes. The playground equipment won’t offer much in theway of protection. Besides, who wants to hide behind a see-saw?

Not anyone who wants to keep his balls.

I follow the not-Shifter odor across thepark to where a small, grassy ditch separates the playground from a soccerfield. There are a few small trees, but nothing substantial enough to coverboth of us. The ditch it is, then. Olivet and four not-Shifters have set upcamp in a pavilion just outside the soccer field.

Olivetis the closest to Daniel. The not-Shifters are far enough away that I could takethem out without harming the kid. Neither of my pistols is designed to be usedas a sniping weapon, but there’s no time to run back to the truck. Our best betfor a happy outcome is for me to shoot two or three of the not-Shifters beforeOlivet can react.

“Stayhere.” I push Az’s head down so that it can’t be seen over the top of the ditchand crawl out on my stomach. I stay as close to the ground as possible and makemy way, inch by inch, to a flowering shrub a few feet from the ditch.

Bythe time I reach the shrub, there’s more dirt inside my shoes than there is onthe outside of my shirt. I can practically give a chemical breakdown of thefertilizer used on the grass. The shrub isn’t quite close enough for totalaccuracy, but I don’t want to risk going any further.

Sweatslides down my forehead as I line up the shot. One of the not-Shifters steps tothe edge of the pavilion.

.

Hesteps one clawed paw on the grass.

.The gunshot reverberates like thunder in the middle of downtown. Thenot-Shifter drops to the ground. The freaks behind him wipe gray matter andchunks of skull off their faces as they stalk toward their fallen friend.

“Trythat again, and I’ll slit the brat’s throat,” Olivet shouts.

Ican’t risk it. My return to the ditch is much hastier and far messier. Az givesme a thumbs’ up when I slide in beside her, but it doesn’t feel like much of avictory. As long as Olivet has a hostage, the odds aren’t in our favor.

Thewarlock monologues. How clichéd. We are treated to a rant on how messy centaursare, how ungrateful his master is for all the hard work he’s done, and how he regretshaving to waste two of his best witches in the earlier attack. Cry me a fuckingriver.

Aftera sweet minute of silence, Olivet restrains Daniel with an arm around thechild’s throat and drags the kid to the front of the pavilion. Olivet pullsback so that Daniel’s front hooves are off the ground. One of the not-Shiftersflanking Olivet grabs at flailing centaur legs. The woman beside me flinches.

Wecan’t sit here much longer. Olivet will soon tire of taunting us and killDaniel. Or sic his not-Shifters on us. Or both.

Probablyboth.

“Well,this makes things simple,” Az mutters, shrugging out of her cobweb of a cardiganand letting it fall to the grass.

“Whatdoes?”

“He’scontrolling them like I thought,” she says. It’s not an answer to my question. It’sa diversion. A tangent we don’t have time to explore. “Olivet has a connectionto the not-Shifters. He’s giving them direction, intelligence. You can see itin the way they move.”

“Killhim and they go feral.” I’m not entirely sure that would be an improvement. Puttingdown feral Shifters is never fun and is usually dangerous as shit. I don’t wantto consider how much more difficult it will be with not-Shifters.

“Notnecessarily,” she says, eyes going distant, blank. After a long moment ofstillness, her hands drop to the hem of her blouse. “The Mage, let’s go withMage for now, pulling Olivet’s string has to be in there as a backup. Hewouldn’t trust Olivet enough, and he’d want to be there if something wentwrong. He’s not actually here, though. The connection’s thin. He’ll need timeto make it concrete. Time we can use in our favor.”

Az’sblouse flutters to the ground to join her cardigan. She shivers when the coolbreeze hits her bare arms. Her tiny pink camisole is no match for a brisk fall day.

“Whatthe fuck, Princess? We don’t have time for this shit.”

“Grabthe kid. Fast like the wind, Rick.”

Uh,no. If I’m grabbing the kid what role does that put her in? The distraction? Oh.Hell. No.

“Whathappened to trust and talking about reckless, stupid, asinine plans? I’m prettysure this falls under the ‘stupid’ category.”

Her gaze slides away from mine but her spineremains rigid. Damned stubborn void. “Sometimes it’s easier to ask forforgiveness than for permission.”

“Andif I’m not in a forgiving mood?”

“That’sa chance I’ll have to take.” She ducks her head and presses her lips to mine. Thekiss is hot, wet, and over far too soon. “Wish that’s the last taste I couldkeep in my mouth. Pure bliss. Now, remember: quick like a bunny.”

Iwrap my fingers around her wrist before she can leave our hidey hole. “Listento me. You are going out thereand distracting Olivet so that I can save Daniel. We’ll work out a plan torescue the kid and take Olivet down. Martyrdom is not a turn on. I swore I’dget the kid, but I won’t sacrifice you to do it.”

Thesmile she offers up is wistful. Her eyes glisten with tears. “You are a goodman, Aldric Haskell, and I absolutely adore every molecule of you.”

Funnyhow her declaration sounds a lot like a farewell. I tighten my grasp on herthin bones. “Fucking stay put, Az.”

Herhead cocks to the side. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. Somethingbright and bizarre burns in her gaze. “Did I ever tell you what you tastelike?”

“Huh?”Between the random question and the appearance of her pink tongue, it’s awonder I can remember to speak.

“Home.You taste like home. And salted caramel. My favorite.”

Withoutwarning, she sinks her teeth into the meat of my hand between my thumb andforefinger. Stunned and bleeding, I release her wrist. She disappears out ofour safe zone before I can grab her back. I stand up just enough to watch herbut not enough to be shot at.

“Joel!”she calls as she races across the park.

“Astraea?”Olivet doesn’t release Daniel, but he does hold up a hand to keep thenot-Shifters from attacking Az. “Had I realized you would be present, I wouldhave chosen a more hospitable location for this meeting.”

Azskids to a stop in front of Olivet. She winds the end of her braid around afinger and stands with a hip cocked. A shaft of sunlight obscures her face, butI’m sure she’s smiling. Is she flirting with him? That’s her grand plan? Flashcleavage and grin like an idiot?

Well,it’d probably work on me.

“Ilike the park,” Az insists. “It’s quiet and tucked away. Perfect place for apicnic or stroll or, you know, keeping hostages.”

Onepale, small hand twists around her back. She holds up three fingers. I tense. Ididn’t agree to this plan, but since it’s already in motion I won’t jeopardizeher by not playing along. When this is over, I swear she won’t be able to sitfor a week. Two fingers. Every muscle is coiled, ready for action.

One.

Isprint across the park and snatch Daniel out of Olivet’s lax grasp.

Quicklike a bunny doesn’t even come in to play. Every inch of Az is plastered toOlivet. Her legs are twined with his, her arms around his neck, her hands onhis back, and her mouth smashed against his lips.

Thethree not-Shifters around us cradle their heads and scatter, howling likewounded dogs. I can’t follow. I can’t leave Az and Daniel behind.

Olivetturns white as a sheet. He sways. Az sways with him. Neither appears to havetaken a breath. With an arm around a sobbing Daniel, I grab Az’s shoulder. Herskin is fire-hot. When the pain forces me to pull away, I nearly sob withrelief. The cool air is a balm across my red skin.

“Come on, Princess, fun time is over. We gotthe kid.”

Shedoesn’t give any indication that she hears me. Olivet’s dilated eyes roll upinto his skull. He crashes backwards. Az lands on top of him, still slurpingmagic. Sparks of white energy crackle along her hair and her spine. Just as Iset Daniel aside so that I can yank her away from Olivet, an unconscious voidrolls off an equally unconscious warlock.

Icheck Az’s pulse first. It’s slow but present. Her eyes move rapidly beneathpaper-thin eyelids. I turn to Olivet. Bloodand fluids pour out of his nose and eyes. The grass near his ears is wet. Hisbody jerks once before going still. I don’t have to check his pulse to knowhe’s dead. Az’s doing or the puppet master’s?

Danielhuddles behind me when I kneel beside Az. Her entire body radiates heat like asmall sun. I suck in a bracing breath and ghost a hand across her cheek. “C’mon,Princess. Let it go.”

Nothing.I fold my fingers over hers. Steal a chaste kiss. Still nothing. Magic sizzlesaround her, but none of it travels from her skin to mine.

Whatthe hell? Does she have to be awake to discharge? I don’t have time to sithere, in the open, while she takes a beauty nap. Was this part of her plan? Didshe know that this would happen?

“Comeon, you greedy bitch, share the magic!” I gather her in my arms and cradle heragainst my chest. Her head lolls against my shoulder. Her nose grazes my ear. Thepain from the heat barely registers.

“Imean it,” I growl down at her. “If you don’t wake up , this time I really am going to kick your ass.”

Nothing.

“Fine,you can keep the damn magic if you want it that badly. Stop playing opossum sowe can get the hell out of here.”

Nothing.

Herhair is like liquid flame against my lips. The sulfur-and-dirt scent of heavy magicobliterates the sweetness of magnolias. The popping and crackling magic ticklesmy chin and nose. “C’mon. Wake up, Az. Just… wake up.”