A Fistful of Charms (19 page)

Instead of laughing, Walter's brow furrowed and he sucked on his teeth. “Kalamack doesn't know,” he said flatly, making it a statement, not a question. “Why are you here? Why do you care what happens to Sparagmos?”

I pulled my arms from the couch, putting one hand on my hip and the other gesturing in exasperation. “You know, I asked myself that same question just this morning.”

A smile came over the Were, and he glanced to a decorative mirror, presumably two-way. “A rescue of the heart?” he said, and I warmed at the mockery in his voice. “You love him, and he thinks you're dead. Oh, that's classic. But it's stupid enough to be the truth.”

I said nothing, gritting my teeth. Jenks shifted closer, and the sentries adjusted the grip on their weapons.

“Pam?” Walter called, and I wasn't surprised when a
diminutive woman entered, arms swinging confidently, an amulet dangling from her fingers. She was dressed in lightweight cotton capri pants and a matching blouse, her long black hair coming to her mid-back. Defined eyebrows, thick pouty lips, and a delicate facial bone structure gave me the impression of a china doll.
A very athletic china doll,
I amended when she pointedly dropped the amulet on the coffee table in accusation.

Truth charm, I guessed by the notches on the rim, and I pulled my gaze away from the clatter of it hitting the table. Weres used witch magic more than vamps, and I wondered if it was because they needed the boost of power more than the vamps, or if it was that vamps were so sure of their superiority they felt they didn't need witch magic to compete with the rest of Inderland.

“She's not lying,” the woman said, giving me a quick smile that was neither warm nor welcoming. “About anything.”

Walter sighed as if it was bad news. “I'm sorry to hear that,” he said softly.

Damn.
I looked at Jenks. His eyes were wide and he looked anxious. He had heard it too. Something had shifted.
Double damn.

Six more men came in and Walter stood, curving his arm familiarly about Pam's waist and tugging her closer. “Pit them,” he said, sounding regretful, and Jenks stiffened. “I want to know if anyone is coming after her.” He smiled at Pam. “Try not to do anything that can't be undone? We may have to give them back to whoever backed her in this. She many not belong to Kalamack, but she belongs to someone.”

“Whoa! Wait up,” I said, standing. “You'd let me walk out of here if I worked for Trent and was after your stinking statue, but you're going to put me away if all I came for was Nick?”

Jenks groaned, and I froze when Walter and Pam looked to the truth amulet on the table. It shone a nice, friendly green. “And you knew it was a statue, how?” Walter said softly.

Crap on toast. Stupid,
stupid
witch. Now they wouldn't
stop until they found out about Jax. I knew Jenks's thoughts were on a similar path when he jiggled on his feet, anxious.

“Find out what they know,” Walter said, and a wild look came over Jenks.

I fought to not move as someone put his hands on me, exerting a steadily growing pressure to fall into motion. Brett's stocky figure eased into the archway, his expression clearly saying he thought they were making a mistake. “I'm not going to talk,” I said, shaking inside. “There isn't a spell stirred that can make me saying anything, much less the truth.”

Walter favored me with a smile that showed his small teeth. “I wasn't planning on using spells to make you talk. We have drugs for that,” he said, and I went cold. “Sparagmos has quite a resistance to them and we've since turned to older methods. He's resisting those too, but maybe we can move him by hurting you. All he does is weep when we ask him where the statue is. Pam, will you supervise her interrogation? My ulcer acts up when I hurt a woman.”

He started for Brett and the archway, leaving Jenks and me with a room full of weapons. Frantic, I looked from Jenks to Walter standing by the door, giving a quiet set of instructions to Brett. I scanned the room as if for options, finding none.

“If she knows, someone else does too. Find out who,” Walter finished.

“Rache?” Jenks whispered, clearly tensed to move but waiting for me to give the word.

“I claim ascension,” I said, frightened.
Oh God. Not again. Not on purpose.

Walter jerked, but it was Pam who spun, her dark hair furling with the motion and her lips parted, a surprised doll with red cheeks.

“I claim the right for pack ascension,” I said louder. I wasn't about to fight her, but I could stall for time. Kisten would know something was wrong if I didn't call him in three days. At that point I didn't care if I had to be rescued or not. “I want three days to prepare. You can't touch me,” I added for good measure.

Anger pulled Walter's white eyebrows tight, and furrows lined his brow. “You can't,” he said. “You aren't a Were, and even if you were, you'd be nothing but a two-bite whore.”

Jenks didn't relax, but he was listening, as was everyone in the room. Poised. Waiting.

“I can,” I said, shrugging out of the grip of whoever held me. “I do. My pack number is O-C(H) 93AF. And as an alpha, I can claim ascension over whomever in hell I want to. Look me up. I'm in the catalog.” Shaking, I gave Pam a shrug I hope she understood meant it was nothing personal. She looked at the bruises on my neck, her eyebrows rising but her thoughts unknown.

“I don't want to front your lousy tick-infested pack,” I said, making sure everyone knew where I was coming from. “But I want Nick. If I best your alpha, then I claim him and leave.” I took a slow breath. “We all leave. Intact and unharassed.”

“No!” Walter barked, and everyone but Pam and I jumped.

Jenks looked worried, his green eyes pinched. “Rache,” he said, apparently not caring everyone could hear him. “Remember what happened the last time?”

I shot him a poisonous look. “I won last time,” I said hotly.

“By a point of law,” he said, jerking to a standstill when he tried to take a step and the men surrounding him threatened violence.

“Jenks,” I said patiently, ignoring the pointed weapons. “We can try to fight our way out of some crazy survivalist's group, swim for shore, and hopefully elude them, or I can fight one stinking Were. One way, we end up hurt and with nothing. The other way, I'm the only one who gets hurt, and maybe we walk away from this with Nick. That's all I want.”

Jenks's face fell into an unusual expression of hatred that looked wrong on him. “Why?” he whispered. “I don't know why you even care.”

I dropped my eyes to the carpet, wondering that myself.

“This isn't a game,” Walter said, his round face going red. “Get the medic up here with the drugs. I want to know who sent them and what they know.”

The man grabbed me and I tensed.

“Ah, Walter, dear?” Pam said, and everyone in the room froze at the ice in her voice. “What, by Cerberus's balls, are you doing?”

In the silence, Walter turned. “She isn't a Were. I thought—”

His words cut off at Pam's low noise. Her eyes were squinting and her hands were on her hips. “I've been challenged.” Her voice got louder. “How am I supposed to walk out of this room and not have every last whining dog think I'm a coward? I don't care if she's a leprechaun and has green tits, she just pissed in my food dish!”

Jenks snickered, making Walter's ears redden. “Sweetie…” he coaxed, but he was hunched and submissive. I cocked an eyebrow at Jenks. Maybe I'd been going about Weres all wrong. It was the women who held the balls of the alpha males that really had the power.

“Sugar Pup,” he tried again when she pushed his hand off her. “She's stalling for time. I want to know who's coming to bail her out before they get here. She's not a Were, and I don't want to jeopardize gaining the artifact by adhering to old traditions that don't belong anymore.”

“It's those traditions that put you where you are now,” she said scathingly. “We don't have to give her three days.” Pam turned to me, simpering. “We do it now. Think of it as me softening her up. It will be fun. And if she cheats with her magic, the pack can rip her to shreds.”

My hope did the proverbial swirl down the crapper. Walter apparently didn't know what to do either as he stood in blank surprise while Pam kissed his cheek, smiling. “Give me twenty minutes to change,” she said, then sashayed out.

I looked at Jenks.
Shit.
This was not what I had planned.

L
ittle sun made it past the fragile spring leaves, and I shivered.
It is the cold,
I thought, not the rank smell of ash and emptied bowels or the people joining the noisy throng in twos and threes. And it wasn't that Jenks had his hands cuffed before him. And it couldn't be from the air of a festival growing as everyone gathered to see me get mauled. No, it had to be from the chill May afternoon.

“Yeah, right,” I whispered, forcing my hands from my elbows and rocking to my toes to loosen my muscles. The scent of old smoke was strong from the nearby fire pit, almost hiding the rising odor of musk. I had a feeling they would've lit the bonfire to add to the travesty if it had been later. As it was, the people in fatigues and little caps were arranging themselves in small knots in one corner. Across the clearing, the street Weres in their baggy, colorful clothes were more cool as they portrayed an indifference that was fake but effective nonetheless. Between them was the third group, wearing slacks and dresses. They were quietly laughing at the guys in fatigues, but were clearly wary of the rougher, wild cannons the street Weres made with their show of jewelry and loud voices. The excited chatter was getting on my nerves.

Under it was the sensation of gathering power. It tickled through me, and my expression blanked as I slowly recognized the unfamiliar feeling. With thoughts of the fiasco at Mrs. Bryant's running through me, I opened my mind's eye
to see the surrounding Weres' auras. My gut twisted as they swam into view.

Crap on toast,
I thought, glancing worriedly at Jenks. All three packs had the same sheen of brown rimming their auras. Most Weres had an outermost haze reflecting the predominant color of their male alphas, and the chance that all three alpha males on the island had brown auras was slim. They were bound into a round under one Were. Damn it, this wasn't fair!

And the bond was strong too, I realized as I scanned the compound for a way out of this. Strong enough to sense, as it hadn't been at David's intervention, which didn't bode well for the upcoming alpha contest. Listening to the jeers and chatter around me, I couldn't help but feel as if the extra strength came from the subordinate members joining it.

Walter wasn't an especially powerful alpha, and I wasn't vain enough to think that they had done this just to see me get torn apart. I was getting the sensation that they had been bound to a common goal for weeks, maybe. Days, at the least.

Disconcerted, I dropped my second sight and stretched where I stood, legs spread wide and bending at the waist to place the flat of my arms against the hard-packed dirt. I had to find a way to break the round or today would be a repeat of Karen without the happy ending.

My butt was in the air, with only my black tights between me and their imaginations, and at a rude laugh, I came up in a slow exhale. I turned to Jenks. They had let him wash the blood off his hair, and his blond mop was in loose ringlets, throwing his green eyes in stark relief. Youthful features pinched, he stood absolutely still for once, and I didn't think it was because of the armed guard. Actually, I was surprised they had him here, but he
was
providing a lot of entertainment and was a curiosity in himself. I could understand their confidence. Even if we got away, how could we escape survivalists, street-racer gangs, and Weres with credit cards?

About the only thing going for me was that my rudimentary ley line skills hadn't made it to Walter's report. I was a
strict earth witch, according to it, and seeing as I hadn't made a circle or hit the wolves with anything other than an earth charm, they had no idea I could work the lines too. Just as well. They would have put one of those nasty black ratchet-wristbands on me for fear I'd tap a line through my familiar and make them all toads. That I didn't have a familiar was a mute point. The band would have still made me helpless, robbing me of the energy I had in my chi and spindled in my head. And I wanted to use it.

I looked at my feet and stifled a shiver of nervousness. I'd wanted to turn Jenks his proper size before this got started. Jax waited at the hotel, and as long as it was warm, Jenks could fly back and they could get out of here. This wasn't a rescue anymore; we were down to salvage.

Excitement rose through the surrounding Weres—sending the feeling of sandpaper over the skin of my aura now that I was aware of it—and I followed everyone's attention as Pam made her sedate way to us. Her red robe fluttered about her bare feet, and with her hair flowing about her, she looked exotic, walking under the trees as if belonging to the earth. My muscles tensed, and avoiding her eyes, I went to Jenks for a last word.

“Stop!” one of his guards barked before I had gone three feet, and I froze, hip cocked.

“Give me a break,” I said loudly, as if I wasn't shaking inside. “What, by the Turn, do you think I'm going to do?”

Pam's voice rose high, carrying a derision I wasn't sure was aimed at me or the guys with guns. “Let her talk to him,” she said. “It may be the last time she has her wits about her.”

That's nice,
I mused, the threat of their doctor with his needles keeping me quiet.

Pam swayed to a halt before two women. They didn't look enough alike to be friends. The tallest was wearing a well-worn leather halter and classically torn jeans, and the other had on an inappropriate dress suit and heels. Visiting alphas, I guessed.

The four men around Jenks had lowered their weapons a
smidge, and I sidled past. I was finding it easier to ignore the barrels pointed at me, though stress had me wound tighter than Ivy's last blind date. “Jenks,” I said. “I want to turn you small.”

His worry melted into disbelief. “What the hell for?”

I grimaced, wishing the guards weren't hearing this. “You can fly back to the mainland while it's warm, get on a bus, go home, and forget I ever asked you to help me with this. I don't know if I have enough ever-after spindled to invoke both spells, and I can't let you risk being stuck like this if I—” I grimaced. “—if I get hurt,” I finished. “I don't think Ceri can reverse the curse herself, so she'd have to twist a new one, and for that she'd need demon blood….” I wanted him to tell me I was being an ass and that he was with me to the end, but I had to offer.

His brow furrowed. “Are you done?” he said softly. I said nothing, and he leaned forward, putting his lips beside my ear. “You're a dumbass witch,” he whispered, his words soft but intent, and I smiled. “If I could, I'd pix you for a week for even suggesting I up and leave you here. You're going to unwind that ever-after in your head to Were. Then you're going to pin that woman. And then we will get the hell off this island with Nick.

“I'm your backup,” he said, taking a flushed step backward. “Not a come-easy friend who flies away at the first sign of a problem. You need me, witch. You need me to carry Nick if he's unconscious, hotwire the jeep to drive back to the beach, and steal a boat if he can't swim. And Jax is fine,” he added. “He's a grown pixy and can take care of himself. I made sure before we left that he knew the number to the church and could read Cincinnati off the bus schedule.”

The lines in his face eased, and a crafty glint replaced the hard anger in his eyes. “I don't need to be small to get out of these cuffs.” He sent one eyebrow up, turning into a scallywag. “Five seconds, easy.”

The wash of relief flowing through me was distressingly short-lived. “But I'm not going to let her pin me,” I said.
“I'm going to fight until I can't anymore. If I die, you're stuck like this.”

His smile widened. “Aw, you aren't going to die,” he said mischievously.

“Why? Because you're with me?”

“Ooooh, she can be taught.” Hiding his hands from the guards, he bent his thumb, moving it in a stomach-turning disjointedness so the cuffs could slide right off. “Now get out there and get a mouthful of bitch ass,” he finished, jiggling his wrists so the metal links fell back in place.

I snorted. “Thanks, Coach,” I said, feeling the first fingers of possibility ease my slight headache, but as I looked over the noisy throng, I grew depressed. I did
not
want to do this. It was a demon curse, for God's sake.
And the easiest way to get out of this,
I thought. Ceri had said the payment wouldn't be that bad. The smut would be worth escaping being drugged. I'd seen her make the curse. Nothing had died to make it.
I
was paying the price, not some poor animal or sacrificial person. Was it possible for a curse to be technically black but morally white? Did that make using it right, or was I just a chicken-ass taking the easy way out and rationalizing myself out of a lot of pain?

You can't do anything if you're dead,
I told myself, deciding to worry about it later.

Nauseated, I looked over the heads of the growing conglomeration of Weres. The energy coming off them seemed to swirl around me like a fog, making my skin tingle. Okay…I was going to be a wolf. I wouldn't be helpless like before. Pam might not feel any pain, but if I got ahold of her neck, she was going down in a modified sleeper.

A quick glace at Pam, and I shook my hands to loosen them. As challenger, it was my place to assume the field first. Breath held, I took five steps into the clearing. The noise increased, and a swift memory of being a contestant in Cincy's illegal rat fights flitted through me and was gone. What was it with me and organized beatings, anyway?

Pam turned. Head high, she smiled at the women with her and touched the shoulder of the one with the most polish in parting. Light on her bare feet, she came forward, the crowd's noise turning softer, more intent. It was easy to see the predator in her despite her diminutive size, and she reminded me of Ivy, though the only similarity was their grace.

“Rache?” Jenks said loudly, the alarm in his voice bringing me around. He pointed with his chin to Walter approaching on the same path his wife had used. There were two men with him: one in a suit, and the youngest in head-to-toe red silk, his walk a jewelry-jangling swagger.

Walter halted at the edge of the circle, and on impulse I opened my second sight. Walter's aura wasn't rimmed in that hazy brown sheen—it was permeated with it. The entire three packs had begun to accept his dominance.

I quickly scanned the other two alpha males' auras. Theirs were clear of Walter's influence, as were their wives', but the visiting alphas had to know it was happening. That they were voluntarily letting him do this to their packs scared the crap out of me. Whatever Nick had stolen must be big for them to bind themselves for so long that Walter was starting to claim them all. It went against all Were tradition and instinct. It just wasn't done.

Walter looked utterly satisfied. He glanced at me, his eyebrows rising as if knowing I could visually see the mental connection he was fixing over another alpha's pack. Smirking, he looked to Pam and gestured.

Pam reached for the tie to her robe. “Wait!” I called, and a ripple of laugher went through them. They thought I was frightened. “I have a spell to Were with, and I don't want to get shot using it.”

There was a collective hesitation, and most of the conversations were stilled, the street gang muttering the loudest. I shifted from foot to foot, waiting. Pam recovered smoothly, coming to a halt a good ten feet from me. “You can Were?”
she said, a mocking smile on her. “Walter, honey, I didn't think earth witches could do that.”

“They can't,” he said. “She's lying so she can put a black spell on us.”

“I can Were,” I said, letting my second sight fade. “It's a ley line, ah, charm, and if I had wanted to put a spell on you, I would have done it already. I'm a white witch.” My stomach hurt and I had to go to the bathroom. Oh God. I was a white witch, but it was a black curse. I had sworn I wouldn't, and here I was, jumping head first into the hole. It didn't matter that the black was negligible. It was going to be on my soul. What in
hell
was I doing here?

Walter looked at the crowd when a few called to get on with it. “Pam?” he asked, and the slight woman beamed, playing up to them.

“Challenger's choice,” she said, and the assembled Weres cheered.

Walter nodded. “Your choice,” he said to me. “Do you want to start on two feet, making part of the contest how fast you can Were, or do you want to Were and then begin?”

“I know what challenger's choice is,” I said snottily. “I
have
done this before. And this isn't legal. My alpha isn't here, and there aren't six other alphas to adjudicate in his absence.”

Walter's face showed shock for an instant, then he hid it. “We have six alphas,” he said.

“
She
doesn't
count
!” I said, pointing, but all they did was laugh at me.
Like I really thought they would do this by the book?

“We start from four legs,” I said softly, knowing she was going to Were fast anyway, so I might as well have a chance to catch my breath before we got on with it.

The crowd liked that, and Pam nonchalantly undid the tie to her robe, letting it slip from her to pool at her feet and leave her stark naked. She looked like a goddess with her perfect tan, standing with one foot slightly before the other. Even her stretch marks added to her image of proud
survivor. The noise of the crowd never changed or acknowledged her new, ah, look.

I flushed, dropping my gaze. God help me, I wasn't going to do the same. Jenks's clothes had vanished with even his scars when he turned. I expected it would be the same for me, and I wouldn't show up as a wolf in black tights and a lacy pair of underwear—as amusing as that would be. No way was I going to show them I was a nasty pasty color with freckles.

A shiver of adrenaline went through me. That, the crowd responded to, and I watched a visiting alpha bring her a sheaf of pungent wolf 's bane. A murmur of approval rose when she curtly refused. No one offered me any.
Bitches.
Not that it would have helped.