Crimson Wind (13 page)

She drew slowly away. “This is going to have to wait,” she whispered. Her stomach clenched. Wait for when? There would be little enough chance for privacy before they reached Winters, and then they’d be surrounded by her family. Next stop would be Horngate, where Scooter waited impatiently. Why had she been pushing Alexander away instead of grabbing what she could while she could?

She bit down hard on her lower lip, sliding off Alexander and turning so that she sat beside him. She was breathing fast, and her body throbbed. He snugged her tight against him.

“Soon,” he whispered, pressing a trail of light kisses down her neck.

Chills ran down to Max’s toes, followed by a wave of liquid heat. She took a breath, then slid determinedly down, turning onto her side away from him and stuffing a pillow under her head. “I’m going to sleep,” she said unnecessarily.

Alexander was still a moment, then he eased down and spooned up against her. He slid one arm under her neck, and the other arm draped her waist. His quiet breaths brushed over her hair and cheek. She stiffened. She’d not actually slept with any man in the fifty years she’d been alive.

“Relax,” Alexander murmured. “I will not bite. Not tonight, anyway.”

There was a smile in his voice and the delicious promise of things to come. That was supposed to relax her? She jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. He laughed silently, the rumble in his chest quaking through her and sending her pulse racing again. She suppressed a groan. The bastard was killing her. She closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe slowly, counting each breath like sheep.

The heat of his body wrapped around her, and Max soon slid into the sleep her exhausted body craved.

She woke just before nightfall. She’d not moved in the day, and Alexander still wrapped her from behind. Max lay still for a long minute, savoring the feel of him against her. Then she reluctantly sat up and scrubbed her hands across her face. She felt groggy, but sleep had done a lot to restore her. Her stomach growled.

Valery and Holt were still asleep. She turned to look at Alexander. He was leaning on his elbow, a frown between his eyes.

“What’s wrong, Slick?”

“Just wondering if you are going to revert to form and pretend last night did not happen.”

“And if I did?”

He reached out and traced her mouth with his fingers. “Then I would not let you out of this bed until you got over your amnesia.”

She pretended to consider. “That only tempts me to say nothing happened.” Then she remembered where they were going and Scooter’s warning. Her expression tightened. “But we’ve got places to go and people to kill. We’d better get moving.”

She started to get up, and he caught her arm and pulled her down. His kiss was slow and deep and hungry. He let her go at last, looking like he wanted to say something else, but he only levered himself up off the bed and went into the bathroom.

IT WAS A QUARTER AFTER NINE BEFORE THEY WERE READY to go. Holt’s hands were still taped in front of him, but the bindings around his legs and waist had been cut loose. Alexander held the end of the witch chain. Valery was rumpled, but her eyes snapped with energy. Max’s stomach was appeased for now. They’d polished off the food that Magpie had sent.

She took down the window covers and packed them up. “Ready? We’ll take Holt with us. We’ll leave him somewhere in a day or so.”

“You won’t kill him?” Valery asked.

“No.”

She nodded, then said slowly, as if the words stuck in her throat like fish hooks, “I want a minute with him alone.”

Max looked at Alexander and shrugged. He looked like he’d swallowed a hammer sideways, but he handed Valery the end of the chain and followed Max out to the parking lot. The moon was up, but clouds hid its brilliance, saving Max a case of itchy blisters. They put their gear back into the truck. Max reached into her pocket and dialed Jim’s number. Once again, she got his voice mail. “Dammit,” she said as she snapped her phone shut.

“Maybe the magic has cut off the signal,” Alexander suggested.

She nodded. It was possible. Though more probable was that he was dead or captured. She glanced back at the hotel doors. “We haven’t got all fucking night,” she muttered. How long to get to Winters? Going down Highway 5, it was close to six hundred miles. They had about eight hours of darkness to get there. It could be done, barely, although they’d have to lie low until the following night. And that was only if they didn’t hit a lot of traffic or get pulled over.

Max paced back and forth as the minutes ticked past. Finally, Valery and Holt pushed through the exit doors. Holt looked murderous, and Valery looked resolute. She handed Alexander the end of the chain and then hugged him tightly.

“Watch yourself. Try not to get killed.” Her glance flicked to Max and then back to Alexander. “Good luck with your project.”

He smiled. “It is coming along. Thanks for the amulet. Keep your head down, would you? Things are going to get ugly in the world soon. Do not get yourself hurt. Maybe I should gut Holt. I would be doing you a favor.”

She shook her head, her mouth flat. “No. He deserves a lot of things but not that. Just give me a day’s head start. He won’t find me.”

“Don’t do this, Valery,” Holt ground out. He started toward her, and Alexander caught him by the collar. “You don’t know what you’ve gotten into,” Holt said to her, ignoring Alexander. “I need those tablets back. You’re in danger as long as you’ve got them, and I can’t keep you safe much longer. Especially with what the Guardians are doing to the world.”

She snorted derisively. “Safe? Is that what you call it? You need a new dictionary, baby, and a new line. Figure it out. You and I are done. I don’t need you, and I’ll never give those damned tablets back. Consider them my divorce settlement. So you might as well get over yourself and move on.”

She turned her back on him and held out her hand to Max, who shook it.

“I hope you find your family and get them out,” Valery said. “Thanks for your help with Holt. If you ever need anything, I owe you a favor. Alexander knows how to find me.”

Max nodded. “Good luck.”

Valery got into her car, waving one more time at Alexander as she pulled away. Max opened the door to stuff Holt into the backseat. He yanked away, pushing against her with his bound hands, his neck craned as he watched the retreating car.

“Dammit, let me go! She’s in danger. I have to get those tablets back before someone else finds her first.”

Max shoved him into the backseat, her hands splaying on his chest as he fought against her hold. “Cool it, Zippy. You’re stuck with us for a while.”

“Please,” he pleaded, although it looked like he was swallowing poison. He wasn’t the sort of man who asked for anything. He was the sort who made demands and was not often refused. “She doesn’t understand what she’s gotten into.”

The soul-deep desperation was real and demanded curiosity, at least, if not sympathy. “Did you tell her?”

He grimaced. “I can’t. It’s ….. complicated.”

“Always is, Zippy.” Max glanced at Alexander, whose lip curled in skeptical disgust. “But we’re all stuck with the beds we make. She doesn’t strike me as all that helpless. Maybe you should have trusted her enough to tell her.”

“She’s going to get herself killed. Or worse.” Holt pulled uselessly against the tape around his wrists. “Let me go. It’s not too late. I can still catch her.

“Not going to happen. Might as well sit back and relax and wait for the ride to be over.”

Fury suffused his face, and if looks could kill, Max would be flayed and gutted. Then his expression shifted as he reined himself in. “What would it take for you to let me go? I am a mage. I can give you the world. Just let me go now.”

“Sorry, Zippy. I’m a lot of things, but I am not for sale.”

With that, Max shut the door and circled the truck to climb into the driver’s seat. She started the engine and put the truck in reverse. As she did, her cell phone rang. She checked the caller ID. It was Jim.

Her mouth went dry as she flipped open the phone. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

It was hard to hear him. Static crackled on the line, and his voice sounded hoarse and far away. “Don’t have much time. My cell is running out of juice. I worked around toward the dam. I got high enough to look out over the orchard. I can’t see much, but it looks like there might be a thinning up near the house—like something’s keeping the smoke creatures away. I’m going to try to get through and see what’s going on.”

She wanted to tell him to go ahead. But she couldn’t ask him to risk himself. Her stomach churning, she said, “No. That’s not your job. If things go right, I should be down there before sunrise. Wait for me.”

“Sorry, babe. Gotta do it. You’d do it for me. Besides, if they are somehow managing to keep the critters at bay, they could use my help.” He stopped and coughed raggedly. “I wouldn’t mind if you hurried up. See you soon.”

With that, the line went dead. Max closed her phone slowly. “That was Jim,” she told Alexander as if he hadn’t heard everything. Her voice was sandpaper dry, and her stomach twisted. She wanted to throw up. She hadn’t let herself think that she would get there too late. “We should hurry.”

Chapter 9

AS SHE PUT THE TRUCK IN GEAR AND HEADED OUT onto the highway, Max sank deep into that cold place where Alexander could not follow. He wanted to shake her, to keep her with him. But he held himself in check. This was her armor. It was how she kept going when pain was too overwhelming to deal with. In the cold place, she could withdraw from the bite of her emotions and the suffering of her body, and focus on what she had to get done. It made her more lethally strong than any Shadowblade he had ever met.

But it meant she was also retreating from him and the fragile bridge they had forged the night before. It made Alexander want to put his fist through the dash.

Once she passed Salem, she opened it up, no longer caring about the speed limit. In Eugene, she pulled off for food and fuel.

“Take him to the bathroom,” she told Alexander, jerking her head toward Holt, who’d said nothing more since they’d left Troutdale. She turned a cold look on the mage. “Try anything, and Alexander will drop you like a sack of onions, understand?”

She didn’t wait for his answer, but instead strode inside the McDonald’s to order.

Alexander opened the rear door of the truck and slid out his knife. He slit the tape on Holt’s wrists and wrapped the witch chain around his neck beneath the collar of his shirt. “Do please try something. I would not mind having a reason to kill you,” Alexander said.

Holt’s mouth twisted, but he said nothing and came along docilely enough. They returned to the truck, and Alexander retaped Holt’s wrists. He watched Max through the broad wall of windows on the front of the building. She filled three drink cups and then leaned casually against a table while she waited. There were a dozen other customers in the place and four employees that Alexander could see. They all watched Max nervously. Her Shadowblade was tightly leashed, but in this mood, nothing hid what she was. Every survival instinct those people had was telling them she was dangerous and they should run. A minute or two later, every single customer evacuated, leaving their food half-eaten on the table.

The instant they emerged, they veered away from the truck, feeling Alexander’s presence.

“I always thought you had a thing for Valery,” Holt said, surprise coloring his voice.

Alexander glanced at him, his brows arching. “She is my sister.”

“Not by blood.”

“We are Caramaras. We do not measure family the same way you do.”

Holt was silent for a long moment, staring at his retaped hands. Quietly he said, “She really is in trouble. Those tablets she stole are too powerful for her to hold. I am not the only one looking for them. If someone else finds her first—”

“Someone?”

“Just as you serve someone more powerful than you, so do I. I have kept him off Valery’s trail, but the Guardians’ war is changing everything. He’s no longer willing to wait for me to find the tablets. If he gets to her before I do, he won’t just kill her. He wants her, too. A Caramaras smoke witch is a rare commodity. Now that she’s removed my marriage marks, any loyalty he might have felt to me is gone. He’ll take her.”

His voice was bitter, though whether it was directed at Valery or his mysterious master, Alexander didn’t know.

“She is not a commodity. And she is not going to let that happen,” Alexander said.

“She won’t have a choice. She’ll go to him, and he’ll make her like it. She’ll never think it wasn’t her idea.” His lips twisted. “I have to find her before he does. You have to let me go. She thinks she knows what he’s capable of, but she doesn’t. This thing the Guardians are doing—pulling magic through the webs. They’ll unleash it into this world, and when they do, my master will be more powerful than before. Valery won’t stand a chance against him.”

“Nice of you to warn her,” Alexander said, disgust coloring his voice. As soon as he could, he would call her and let her know.

“I—” Holt turned away, his narrow jaw tightening. “She wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

“Which makes me wonder why I should. She knows you better than anyone. Why should I trust you when Valery does not?”

“You stupid son of a bitch. I’m telling you the truth. If you care about her as much as you say you do, then you’ll help me.”

Alexander shook his head. “You will have to do better than that.”

“All right. Then what about this? What if I am telling the truth? What if she is being hunted right now by my master? When he finds her, he’ll brainwash her. When he’s through wrapping her up in his spells, she’ll be his puppet. I’ve seen him do it before with more powerful witches than Valery.

“I might be able to stop him if I can return the tablets and get her to restore our marriage. Then she won’t be nearly as tempting.” When Alexander still looked unconvinced, Holt made a guttural sound of frustration, clenching his bound hands. “At least think about it.”

Just then, Max thrust through the doors of the McDonald’s. She handed a tray of drinks and the sacks of burgers through the window and climbed in. She went to turn the key and stopped, tilting her head. “Do you feel that?”

Alexander spread out his senses into the quiet of the August night. Cars raced past on the highway, and all around was the pulse of people living ordinary lives. The smell of magic was thin here. He pushed farther. There. A sound that wasn’t a sound—more a rumble beyond hearing. He felt its tremor deep in the marrow of his bones. “I feel it.”

“I do, too,” Holt said. “It’s the magic the Guardians are pulling through the web. It’s building. It won’t be long before they unleash it.”

Alexander glanced back at the mage. His mouth was bracketed in white, and his green eyes were half closed. He leaned back in his seat as if bracing against an avalanche. Max twisted the key and squealed the wheels as she pulled out of the parking lot. When she got back on the freeway, she sped up to a hundred miles an hour. Wordlessly, Alexander opened a box and handed her a hamburger. He passed another to Holt and then set to eating his own.

An hour and a half later, they crossed the border into California. Fifty miles or so ahead, they could see Mount Shasta rising up alone from the floor of the valley like a shining fang. Snow blanketed the peak despite the August heat. To the east and west, the Sierra and coastal mountain ridges ran south.

The tremor of magic reverberated in the air and ached in Alexander’s lungs and teeth.

“It’s close,” Holt said, and he was breathing hard. His expression was a mix of pain and euphoria.

They passed through Weed, a dusty little town just north of Mount Shasta. The mountain loomed ominously, its shining white peak of snow scraping the starry sky.

They had gone another four miles when Holt groaned loudly. He lurched sideways and convulsed. The truck shimmied, and it felt like all four tires went flat at the same time.

“What the hell?” Max said, and veered off onto the shoulder.

They skidded to a stop, and she jammed the truck into park before yanking open her door and leaping out. Alexander did the same. The ache had spread through his body, and his head spun. The ground twitched and jumped beneath his feet. He staggered drunkenly to the front of the truck, where Max stood watching the mountain.

“Holy mother of fuck,” she murmured as she swayed.

Suddenly the top of the mountain exploded. Ash and smoke doughnutted outward and then surged up in a tall plume. A wave of something else followed, smashing into Alexander like an invisible wall. He fell flat on his back, his head bouncing off the ground. His head spinning, he clambered to his feet. He looked for Max. He did not see her. He lurched around the front of the truck. She was slowly sitting up. Blood ran from a gouge on her cheek.

“Get in,” Alexander said, grabbing her arm and hoisting her up. “We have to get out of here. There is going to be a hell of a mud flow coming at us in nothing flat.”

She shook her head to clear it, then flung herself into the driver’s seat. He jumped in on his side, glancing at Holt. He was toppled onto his side, facedown on the seat. Max put the truck in gear and then stopped, her mouth falling open as she stared up at the mountain. Alexander followed her gaze.

The smoke and ash were already thinning. The top of the main peak was flat and black, and runnels of water, mud, trees, and boulders were streaming down its sides. But what caught their attention was the thin streamer of gauzy red that rose from the black cone like a towering flame. As they watched, it curled and flattened on top, coiling through the air in a widening spiral.

The column in the middle thickened until it was as broad as the mountaintop, and the spinning cloud widened. Max spun the wheel to turn around. Before she could gun the motor, something smashed into them from behind. The truck jolted forward with a screech of tires, and there was a sound of crumpling metal and the smell of hot oil, burned rubber, and antifreeze. They were pushed fifteen feet before shuddering to a stop.

They’d been rear-ended by a Jeep pulling a fishing boat. Its front end was smashed, and the trailer had flipped onto its side, jackknifing and spilling duffel bags, coolers, tackle boxes, and sleeping bags all over the road. They blocked both lanes. Inside the Jeep, a man bobbled behind the wheel, dazed. The airbag had deployed and was already deflating. In the back were two teenage boys. Steam spurted from the Jeep’s radiator, and oil and red transmission fluid puddled on the ground.

Alexander ran to the back of the Jeep and pulled the two boys out. He carried them off to the side, well out of the way should more cars come along and smash into the pileup. Max helped the driver out and settled him next to the boys. None looked any the worse for wear—all had been wearing seat belts.

“What is that?” The man asked, pointing at the sky.

Max looked up. The red cloud had turned turbulent, shredding apart into streamers and clumps as if stirred by a sharp wind, though the night was still and humid. Its color had thickened, and a mass of it pushed southward. As they watched, bits of it began to fall like bloody dandelion fluff. She looked over at Alexander.

“We’ve got to get out of here. I’ll check the truck.”

The truck’s rear bumper was made of cement-filled steel pipe, and the Jeep had done little damage. Max and Alexander loaded their passengers into the back beneath the shell, ignoring their protestations, both eyeing the drifting fluff of the clouds. Wordlessly, they turned in unison to push the boat and trailer out of the road. Seconds later, they climbed back into the truck. Max got them turned around, jouncing through the median and pinning the gas pedal to the floor.

“Can you wake Zippy up?” she asked.

Alexander leaned over the seat, pulling the mage upright. Holt’s head flopped. His eyes were open and unseeing. He breathed hard, with deep, clutching breaths. Alexander slapped his cheeks gently. “Wake up, Holt.”

When that didn’t work, he grabbed a half-drunk water bottle from his seat and splashed some on the mage’s face. “Holt! Wake up!”

The mage shuddered and blinked, bracing his hands on either side of himself. “What’s happened?”

“See for youself.” Alexander pointed behind them.

Max rolled the window down so Holt could stick his head out and see behind. A moment later, he pulled back in.

“If you can go faster, you should,” he told Max.

“What is that stuff?”

“Magic. Wild magic,” he amended.

“That’s what Scooter called it,” Max said. “What’s it mean?”

“You can’t control it. It’s like—” Holt broke off and rubbed his mouth with his bound hands. “Witches—most of us, anyhow—deal in elemental magic: earth, water, flesh, hex, air, fire. Caramaras witches deal in other kinds of magic,” he said with a nod at Alexander. “But the elemental magic that we draw on is tempered—it’s already chosen what it will be. Wild magic hasn’t. It plants itself and grows. It is extraordinarily fertile, even primordial. Who knows why or what it will become? Think of the enchanted forests of the fairy tales. Think of crystal mountains, rivers of milk and blood, giant bean stalks—it can be anything and turn anyone into anything. The only things safe from its effects are those things that have already been claimed or tamed by magic. So you and Alexander and I are safe enough.”

“Why did you pass out?” Alexander asked.

“The shock wave. So much magic erupting back into the world …..” He closed his eyes and swallowed. “It is overwhelming. Even the witch chain couldn’t completely protect me from it. My guess is that any witches within a couple hundred miles passed out cold and won’t be waking for a while.”

Max veered around a car stopped on the side of the road, blaring her horn at the couple standing behind it, staring openmouthed at the sky. “Idiots,” she muttered. “They are going to get themselves killed. Or worse.”

Suddenly she slammed on the brakes and thrust the truck into reverse. She floored it, and they swerved back and forth before she straightened up and came flying back. She squealed to a halt beside the gray sedan.

Alexander leaned out his window. “Are you all right? Do you need help? You cannot stay here.”

The man had his arm around the woman, who looked wilted and dazed. They could not have been much older than twenty-two or twenty-three. They were dressed in button-up shirts tucked into their khaki pants, with carefully styled hair and almost-new hiking boots. They looked at Alexander as if he was a ghost.

“What’s happening?” the man asked. Husband, Alexander realized, seeing the gold band on his left hand.

“Does your car work?”

The man looked vaguely behind him at the sedan and back at Alexander. “Yeah, I think— I don’t—” He looked at Alexander as if he couldn’t remember the question. Then his wife moaned and swayed. He pulled her tight against his chest. “Amanda? Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“She’s a latent witch,” Holt murmured inside the truck, eyeing the couple with narrowed eyes. “Probably just starting to come into her powers. She’s lucky. It protected her from the full weight of the blast.”

Just then, there was a sudden squall from the back of the car. Max started at the sound. “Is that a baby?” she asked.