Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) (28 page)

“Do you even like to knit?”

“Absolutely. And I try to check out the local yarn whenever I travel—I’m just traveling for other reasons.”

“Traveling for your coven.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

Lizzie became aware of the abnormal stillness in the car. A Navigator full of large men meant movement and noise. But she’d managed to put them in the awkward position of listening to an argument—because that’s exactly what was happening, civil though it might be—and they were trying to make themselves invisible. Shame on her. She really should know better. The tips of her ears burned with her embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. We really do have more important things to cover right now.”

“We’re almost to the hotel. Why don’t you and Gwen spend some time catching up—you can use our room, right?” John suggested. “And the rest of us will work on reconnaissance.”

The rest of the guys quickly agreed as Lizzie pulled into the parking lot. John leaned across Lizzie and popped open her door, giving her a quick kiss afterwards. “Go on. You need to talk.” He feathered his fingers along her jawline affectionately. “Try to clear the air before tomorrow.”

Lizzie didn’t agree in so many words, but she knew he was right. She pushed the door open and said, “Be safe,” before she hopped out.

Gwen was waiting patiently for her. Steeling herself, Lizzie decided that, yes, they’d have that chat.

A few minutes later, they were both settled in armchairs in Lizzie and John’s room.

Lizzie’s shoulders were tense and her back straight, as she perched on the edge of her chair. She took a breath and jumped right in. “My world has tilted on its axis a few times in the last few months.”

Gwen nodded, her expression empathetic. “I understand. Truly, I do. Over the years, I’ve given this type of situation a lot of thought, because Kenna will be dealing with it someday. I thought long and hard before I decided to keep that part of her heritage from her.”

“Then why? Knowing the change from a mundane to a magical world overnight would be so difficult, why do it?” That was the question she wanted to ask whoever had made that decision for her and her parents.

“Because the knowledge that would come with it—about her background, about our family—is worse.” Gwen clasped her hands together. “When I made the decision initially, I was practically a child myself.” She shook her head. “I’ll explain it to Kenna when the time is right, but it’s not something I can share until then. Whatever the reasons your family had for not telling you or your parents, I’m certain they weren’t the same as mine.”

She and Kenna had kept Lizzie’s involvement with the magic-community and her metamorphosis into a spell caster from any number of friends and family. She was being a hypocrite, but it was hard to see Gwen as anyone other than the Kenna’s mom. John was right. She needed to let it go.

“So leather—that’s a different look for you. Why not biker boots? The Converse seem tame.” Lizzie threw the conversational gambit out hoping Gwen would see it for the peace offering it was. Because she wasn’t sure she was ready to say the words “I’m sorry” out loud yet.

“Ah. Excellent question.” She gave Lizzie a bright smile and waggled her eyebrows. “I like to be light on my feet when chasing nasty witches. Biker boots are damn heavy.” She lifted her feet up off the ground, admiring her red Converse.

Lizzie couldn’t help it—she laughed, just as Gwen had intended. “I’ll remember that.”

“Do you have any thoughts on how the meet with Worth will happen tomorrow?” Gwen asked.

“We’ll set up well before his scheduled arrival, but not at the airport. We have one small road heading away from the airstrip, and it joins with a major road about three-fourths of a mile out. Just shy of that intersection is our ambush point. Any closer and he’ll definitely detect us with a sensing ward and never land the plane. The hope is that by the time he’s sensed us, we’re flanking his car so there’s no retreat point.”

“I see. I assume we’re blocking the road.”

“No. Everything is too open; they’d just drive around. John is going to see if Max can arrange to incapacitate the car at a particular moment.” Lizzie looked to see if the mention of Max brought about any change in Gwen’s demeanor—but she just looked interested in the plan. Lizzie added, “You met Max—he’s the incredibly good looking one, the non-magical one.”

“He’s not my type. Logan, though—”

“Oh, uh—no, that’s not what I meant,” Lizzie interrupted her before she went too far afield. Lizzie wished she could stop the fiery blush staining her cheeks. But really, that was so completely not what she meant. She supposed that answered her question—Kenna hadn’t told her mom about Max.

Lizzie figured it was a good time to change the subject. “So, with any luck, we won’t see any signs of Margot or Thad. The arrangement is for a driver to pick up Worth and his bodyguards.”

“If it’s a trap, they’ll be there,” Gwen said grimly.

“You haven’t said much about why your coven has tracked Thad. Is that something you can talk about?”

“Witch politics are a bitch, Lizzie. But there is one simple theme that has remained true for the last hundred years or more: you’re either a member of the Coven of Light or you are their enemy. Thad is just one of several members who have been active in Texas and the surrounding states, and he’s not been as discreet in some of his pursuits as other Light members. It’s only a matter of time before my coven or one of the covens I work with stops him.”

Lizzie blinked as Kenna’s mom described the gritty side of witch life. She really needed to reevaluate her perceptions. “But then, won’t this great big organization be after you? Won’t they retaliate?”

“No. While the actions we find so abhorrent will have been either sanctioned or at least not disapproved of, his indiscretion is unforgiveable.”

“Do whatever you want, but don’t get caught,” Lizzie summarized.

“That’s right.”

“That’s…unsettling. I don’t want to know what he’s been doing to bring him to the attention of your coven, do I?”

“No.” Gwen’s voice was flat.

Lizzie’d had enough experience with monsters and bad guys. She really didn’t need any more. What she needed was a vacation. Her cell beeped. A quick look at the caller ID, and her blood pressure skyrocketed. Kenna. She silenced her phone, then squeezed her eyes shut. This wasn’t the first call she’d ducked. How was she going to keep such a massive secret from her friend? By the way, you’re a witch. Sorry, just kidding.

Shaking her head, she said, “Sorry.”

Gwen politely refrained from commenting on the distraction, stood up, and grabbed the bag at her feet. “One last thing, before I check into my room.”

“Yes?”

“We are planning to kill Worth, right?”

Lizzie swallowed. Premeditated murder? Assassination? She hadn’t let herself dwell on the particulars. She’d just focused on gone. No longer in her life. But that wasn’t reality, was it?

“Yes,” she replied.

Chapter 34

J
ohn checked the time on his cell and shifted uncomfortably, trying to dislodge the small stone under his hip. He was getting too old to roll around on the ground like this. The plane was scheduled to land soon, assuming Worth’s travel plans were running to schedule and Margot had provided accurate information. He shifted again as Lizzie’s elbow dug into his side. He couldn’t make out Ben and Logan on the other side of the road, but he knew they were there waiting.

So far, no sign of Margot, or of Thad. John was giving more credence to her being a heartless enough bitch to set her own father up. Although, he was hardly one to talk about loving paternal relationships. He shook his head. If Margot did double-cross her father, it sure as hell wasn’t to retire. Maybe to take over Daddy’s job, but not retirement.

Recon had gone well the night before, and while the planning hadn’t been quite as solid, it was about as good as they were going to get without knowing who Worth’s bodyguards were, both in number and magic type. Margot’s driver was in an Escalade, so they were expecting five men. Worth did tend to travel light, fast, and under the radar. Much more easily accomplished without an army at his back.

His phone vibrated, and he answered it quickly.

“The plane’s landed without incident,” Max reported. “Four men, including Worth.”

“Got it.”

Max was acting as their eyes and ears much closer to the landing sight, since he wasn’t likely to trigger Worth’s sensing wards. John wanted Max’s non-magical ass away from the fighting; his gun wasn’t of much use against Worth and his men. He’d be the last to arrive at the ambush site.

John called Gwen. She wouldn’t hear the news from her position a few hundred feet closer to the landing site, unlike his Lycan pack mates across the road.

“Yes, Alpha?”

He had no choice but to rely on Gwen. Her part was pivotal. He sure as hell hoped she could pull off what they’d planned. “The plane’s on the ground, four men total.”

“I’ll wait for your signal,” she replied.

He hung up the phone. And waited.

It wasn’t long before Worth’s ride approached them.

He turned to Lizzie. God, he hated this, but there wasn’t a good way to stop the truck.

He took a breath and remembered the successful trial run they’d had last night. It would be fine.
She
would be fine.

Ben and Logan changed into wolf form—he could feel the change, smell them.

Fuck. The truck was traveling fast. He narrowed his eyes, waiting for the perfect moment. He squeezed Lizzie’s hand, and she faded. His gut clenched as she disappeared into nothingness.

~*~

Lizzie broke out in a cold sweat. She hadn’t predicted the terrifying, soul-grabbing dread she felt as she faded directly into the path of the massive SUV. Headlights, tires, glass, metal moving so fast.

Don’t flinch. Please, oh please, don’t flinch.

She clenched sweat-slicked hands into tight fists, willing a shield to form.

The crunch of shattered glass and the screech of crumpling metal shrieked in her ears. Shoulders hunched, head ducking, a mass of metal flew over her head. Her eyes squeezed shut, an image seared in her mind. A bloody, misshapen man—the driver?—thrown into the windshield.

She braced herself for the massive crash of the SUV landing. Yet still she shuddered as the falling jumble of metal pounded into the ground.

Lizzie uncurled her body. She straightened her spine, rolled her shoulders, and shook out her arms and hands. And she reminded herself to breathe.

Only then did she truly see the SUV. Bright orange-red flames roared and crackled a few hundred yards away, vividly lighting the dark night. The black Escalade, teetering on its side, loomed dark against the backdrop of the fire.

As she stared, her gaze held captive by the flames, she tried to remember—what now? She blinked in confusion. She must be in shock. The flickering light drew her eye. But, man, had their fire witch come through for them. Thank god for Gwen.

A loud roar penetrated her ears. She pivoted slowly in a circle, reminding herself to breathe, and desperately ignoring the trembling in her hands that wouldn’t stop. Fire surrounded her, the SUV, John, Ben, and Logan. Not close—but close enough. Her cheeks were already warm, and it was getting hotter. Gwen. She couldn’t see Gwen. Her heart jumped in her chest. No—that was good. Gwen was outside the ring of fire. Controlling the fire. Safe.

Slowly her brain caught up to her eyes. Everyone was in motion. Everyone but her. Was that a crocodile? Hysterical laughter burbled up in her throat.

~*~

John felt an anticipatory chill run up his spine as Gwen’s wall of fire encircled them. Around a hundred meters in every direction from the truck, the flames sprung from the ground. The fire had appeared spontaneously, but the heat moved like a wave through the circle. The effect was awe-inspiring.

He changed and charged the truck, Logan and Ben on his heels.

Pieces of pebbled safety glass fell to the ground. A bloody arm extended from the interior, followed by a man—not Worth, smaller and darker. He pulled himself through the passenger window, crouched, then leapt. And a crocodile landed.

John shifted his weight back. Too late. Gaping jaws snapped and searing pain tore through his neck and shoulder.

~*~

The crocodile’s massive jaws caught John mid leap. The crazed laughter died in Lizzie’s throat. Croc teeth imbedded in John’s neck. Her breath hitched. Scream, faint, hope the dense fur at his ruff saved him? She froze, panicked. What could she do? Shield. Useless. Sensing wards. Useless. Fade. Worse than useless—she’d be a hostage. Brain leaping from one impossible option to another, she felt impotent rage. Pathetic, freaking defensive magic.
Oh, God.
She could see blood welling. That was John’s blood, leaking from the croc’s mouth. John.

She jumped sideways. She’d seen, almost seen, out of the corner of her eye….A hard pinching hand wrapped around her upper arm. Reflex kicked in and she stumbled away from the punishing hold. Worth. His grip unyielding, he pulled her closer. Lizzie let all of her weight drop…and fell into nothing.

A moment of panic was followed by memory. He’d pulled her into a fade. Worth had the same teleportation talent as Lizzie. How had she forgotten? One second, two, three and they were back. Then pressure on her arm, pain in her shoulder. Worth’s hand felt like a band of steel as he jerked her falling body up. Her butt landed hard on the ground.

Tears stung her eyes—and they faded again. The moment of weightlessness, of nothing, overcame her.
Dammit.
She needed to break his hold.

Two more hops, faster than her brain could think, and their path was clear. Sweat dripped into her eyes as the wall of heat, flames flashing, came closer. She yanked frantically against Worth’s hold. If he faded her into the fire—
No.
Her breath came in frantic bursts and she pulled harder.
No!

Fade? No. Two casters fading simultaneously…The idea made her brain hurt.
Don’t cross the streams.
The irreverent
Ghostbusters
reference popped into her brain. And they faded again, appearing yet closer to the flames.