Blood Winter (19 page)

The gaunt witch glanced around at the others eating in the dining commons, and then his sunken gaze settled on Max. He looked prepared to kill. That was a change. Gregory was a natural healer. “What are we waiting for?”

“Not a thing, Tiger,” Max said. “Give me your hand.”

She reached out to both Tyler and Gregory, but before they could move, her younger sister, Tris, barged in between them. The other woman looked older than her hard-earned forty-six years, while Max’s body would be stalled at twenty-one until the day she was killed. The perks of no longer being human.

Tris flipped her graying hair over her shoulder, worry cutting deep furrows between her brows. She was beginning to get that plastic look of fury and panic that she seemed to wear a lot lately. It was hard dealing with a world turned inside out with magic, a father and a brother who were witches, and a suddenly not-dead sister who wasn’t human any longer. That was on top of nearly getting eaten by a horde of hungry fairies and losing her home and everything she owned. Stir in the fact that she’d watched Tory and Kyle get dragged off by a crazy preacher witch with a taste for blood and torture, and she had a right to her panic and anger.

“What are you doing to get Kyle and the kids back?” she demanded, her jaw thrusting out.

“If you get out of the way, Tyler, Gregory, and I will be off to look for them right now,” Max said, annoyed at the accusation in her sister’s voice. She had told Tory and Kyle to stay put. It wasn’t her fault they’d ignored her.

“Look for them? Just the three of you? And then what? They could be already—” Her voice broke. She swallowed, and her eyes glittered with unshed tears. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You find them and bring them back. This is your fault.”

“Hold on a motherfucking minute,” Tyler said, stepping around to face Tris. His fury crackled like a bonfire around him.

Tris scooted back, glaring at him.

“How is this Max’s fault?” he demanded, following her until he had her trapped against the wall. “She saved you and your family from certain death. Sure, your idiot daughter and brother wouldn’t be in this mess if Max had left you to die weeks ago. She probably should have, given what an ungrateful bitch you’ve turned out to be. As for your kid and your brother, they were told to stay here and to not go into Missoula. But they chose to be stupid. Not that it was a surprise. They usually do. I don’t know what the hell kind of parents you and your husband are. When is it your turn to take responsibility for that juvenile delinquent you raised? I swear, if you all weren’t Max’s blood, I’m betting Giselle would have booted your asses to the curb a long time ago.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he spun around to get in Max’s face. “Do not say a word,” he said. He was shaking with fury. “Take us out of here before someone gets my fist in her face.”

Without a word, Max grasped him and Gregory and dropped through her fortress and into the abyss. She was more than a little shocked at the vehemence of Tyler’s tirade. It warmed a part of her that had been frozen since Niko’s death. She hated having hostages to fortune in the shape of her friends and family, but this reminded her why it was worth it. To have someone who would take her side no matter what, who would follow her on a one-way ticket to hell and never complain, who would make her laugh and piss her off and make her love him forever.

Which made her think of Alexander. Tyler was safer. He didn’t demand so much. He didn’t cost as much. And she didn’t love him the same way.

Love.

She loved Alexander. How the hell had that happened?

Refusing to consider the idea, she shoved it into the back of her mind and pulled them out of the abyss and into the devastation of the River Market.

“Holy mother . . .” Tyler breathed as he turned around.

“Nothing holy about what happened here,” Max said tightly.

The stench of burned bodies and wood turned her stomach. Worse was that a thin sliver of it was almost pleasant, like barbecue, only this was the kind served in hell. The ground was frozen, a hardened churn of mud and blood. Snow was beginning to fall again. Gregory sucked in a harsh breath, but before he could speak, a shot rang out. Tyler jerked with the impact and grunted. Max grabbed him and Gregory and took a running jump into the air. Her leap took them soaring. More gunshots followed, bullets whistling through the air around them. None hit its mark.

They landed several hundred yards west, dropping down onto the roof of a store in a downtown strip. The snow was a good couple of feet deep. Gregory sprawled across it while Max set Tyler on his feet. He groaned.

“Where are you hit?”

“In the side.” He lifted his shirt and vest. A hole the size of a quarter bored through flesh a few inches below his ribs on his right side. It was a through-and-through. Max took up two handfuls of snow and flattened them over the holes to stanch the blood until his spells fixed him.

“Good thing they can’t see at night,” she said, more shaken than she wanted to let on. That was too close. “I’m not liking the shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later attitude, though.”

“They
are
trigger-happy,” Tyler said, wincing as she pressed against the wounds. “With good reason. I get a feeling we’re not going to be making a lot of friends around here.”

“I’m sure that Sterling planned that. Divide-and-conquer works best for him.”

“Let me see him,” Gregory said, pushing her aside. His hands replaced hers on Tyler’s side, and green magic flared. A moment later, he pulled away. All that was left of the holes were little fading puckers.

Max swallowed around the knot in her throat and turned to go crouch on the edge of the roof. The river was south. “I think we’re up on the old Macy’s,” she said over her shoulder. Tyler hunkered down beside her as Gregory stood behind.

“The River Market is, or was, over there.” She pointed to where smoke still rose. “We should be able to pick up Sterling’s trail and follow him back to his hideout. Not that he’s hiding.”

“Let’s do it.”

She gave Tyler an assessing look and then glanced up at Gregory. He gave a little nod. She stood, slipped her arm around their waists, and jumped down to the ground, the feather in her hand making them float rather than fall.

They started working their way back. Max went first, with Gregory behind and Tyler bringing up the rear.

There were far more people about than Max had expected. Too many of them for her, Tyler, and Gregory to go unnoticed for long. They needed a better plan.

She stopped in the mouth of an alley just a block from the River Market. Piles of shopping carts littered the road, along with other stinking garbage and debris. There were dozens of burned-out cars and an abandoned garbage truck. Feral cats flittered off like shadows.

Ahead, she could see a crowd of people gathering near the market. More than a crowd—a good hundred or more. They appeared to be arguing. She could hear the rise and fall of angry voices but couldn’t make out the words.

Then gunshots rang out again, and a handful of people crumpled to the snow. There were screams and chaos as a ragged line of attackers moved up out of the trees by the river. They were firing rapidly into the panicked crowd. A few people collected themselves to fire back but not enough to do any real damage.

“They have to be Sterling’s people,” Tyler said. “They’re fucking slaughtering them.”

“Not again,” Gregory said, and he started muttering to himself as he stepped out of the alley and flung his hands out. A streak of green magic shot across the open field. It dropped down in front of the line of shooters and disappeared. Ten seconds later, tentacles of green shot up out of the ground like massive jungle vines. They roped and squirmed over the ground, finding the attackers and coiling around them.

In less than a minute, all of them were caught in Gregory’s snare.

“Time to die,” he said, and the vines sucked back down into the ground and vanished, along with their prisoners.

Max and Tyler were silent a moment, then Tyler slapped Gregory on the shoulder. “Elegant. Capture and burial in one fell swoop. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

The witch shook off his hand, staring at the field of people, who had gone silent except for the moans and screams of the wounded. “I’m done watching innocent people die,” he said meaningfully and then walked away, right toward the field.

Max overtook him, stepping in front of him as a shield. “Just because you helped them doesn’t mean they aren’t going to try and kill you,” she said.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Tyler came abreast of Max. “You’re taking our chances, too,” he pointed out.

“Walk away, then. I won’t tell.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Tyler said. “Even if I was willing to leave you, Max wouldn’t, and I won’t leave her. We’re like those cousins who show up at holidays to eat all the food and never leave. You’re stuck with us.”

“Your choice.”

“Not really,” Max said. “But I would be really disappointed in you if you walked away.”

Gregory gave a short laugh and said nothing.

“Stop right there!” someone shouted.

The trio did as ordered.

“We’re here to help,” Max called. “We can help with your wounded.”

“We don’t need help.”

“Yes, you do,” Gregory said as he tried to push between Max and Tyler. They didn’t move. He went to go around, but Max caught him and shoved him back. He made a growling sound and then sighed. “I took care of your enemies, and now I can heal your people. I’m the best chance they have for survival. Do you want them to die?”

That was met with silence and whispers. More than a few guns were leveled at them. Those that weren’t already aimed in their direction.

“Who’s to say you won’t kill ’em?”

“Don’t they know I could force them to let me help them?” Gregory muttered in frustration.

“People don’t like to be made to do things, even for their own good,” Max said.

“Besides, you won’t be able to contain them all. Others are going to come along and see what’s happening and start shooting,” Tyler added.

“I can put up shields.”

“Whatever you decide, we’ll back your play,” Max said.

That startled him into silence. Then, “Thanks.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Start walking,” he said grimly. He set his hands on their shoulders, and a green bubble enveloped them.

“Are we going to be screwed when you let go of us?” Tyler asked as he and Max paced forward.

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Is that a joke?” Max asked.

“Couldn’t be,” Tyler said. “Gregory has no sense of humor. Had it removed as a child.”

“Funny,” Gregory said from behind them. “It would be even funnier if I let you get shot.”

“I’d take that threat more seriously if you didn’t make a habit of giving mouth-to-mouth to dying flies,” Tyler said.

“I just killed sixty-three people,” the witch said, his voice strained. “That should definitely make you worry.”

“Not really,” Max said. “They were monsters. Killing was the only solution.”

“Do you think so?” he asked quietly.

“Can’t save a rabid dog, Gregory,” Max said softly. “Innocent people are living because you killed the bad guys. It’s ugly, but it’s true.”

“Thank you. I . . . I never want to be like Sterling.”

Max flicked a glance at him over her shoulder. “Not even possible. You don’t have the DNA for that kind of megalomaniac crazy.”

“I hope not.”

“We’ll plant you in the ground long before we let you go that route, if it makes you feel better,” Tyler added.

“That makes me feel a lot better,” Gregory said, and Max didn’t think he was joking.

“You need to stop right there!” a man shouted. “Do you want to get shot?”

“Been there, done that once tonight,” Tyler muttered. They kept walking.

A shot rang out. The bullet bounced off Gregory’s shield. Someone else fired. Then several more.

“You’re wasting your bullets,” Max called out.

Apparently, they’d figured that out, because now some had started to retreat, while others stood defensively over the fallen.

Max veered toward the first body she saw that was still breathing. It was a woman. Her chest jerked, and blood bubbled from her lips. Two men and another woman stood guard over her. One of the men was barely that. He might have been eighteen, but Max guessed he was probably closer to sixteen. The other man was in his early twenties, with curly brown hair and five o’clock shadow. The woman was masculine-looking and was in her early thirties. She had a jutting nose and chin and dark sunken eyes. She was dressed in heavy canvas jeans and a thick coat. As with the others, snow topped her hair in a white cap.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I’ll tell you,” Max said, “but get out of the way so Gregory can work. Your friend doesn’t have long to live.”

“My
wife,
” the older of the two men said loudly.

“Then you want her to live,” Tyler said, and grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “Trust me. Gregory will save her.”

“Oh, God, please, I’ll do anything you want,” the man begged, his shoulders jerking as he began to sob. “Anything.”

Tyler stared at him, then drew a breath and put his arm around him. “Easy,” he said. “She’ll be okay.”

“And the baby?”

Oh, shit.
Max put a hand on Gregory’s shoulder. His hands rested on the woman’s chest, and green roped around her, burrowing inside.

“I heard,” he said before she spoke.

“All right, tell me who you are,” the woman said again. Her feet were set wide, and although she looked wary, she didn’t look afraid. Points for her.

“Short version: I’m Max, and he’s Tyler. We’re Shadowblades,” Max said, pointing to Tyler, “and Gregory there is a witch.”

The younger boy gasped and clutched his rifle tighter at the last word.

“What’s a Shadowblade?” the woman asked.

“We used to be human. Then a witch wrapped us up in spells and made us warriors. We’re stronger and faster than you are,” Max said. They didn’t need to know what else she and Tyler could do. Or couldn’t do. Such as survive sunlight.