Cupcakes, Trinkets, and Other Deadly Magic (Dowser Series) (12 page)

“Wait! Please, that costs six hundred to replace. I just got it, on contract. You’re —”

“What?” Kandy snapped, interrupting. “What am I, witch?”

“Wet,” I answered, completely confused at the aggression. “I promise I won’t use it. I’ll turn it off.”

Kandy grudgingly handed the phone back to me, watching me as I shut it down. I tucked it into the front left pocket of my low-slung jeans. It felt awkward, sticking out there, but I thought it better if Kandy could keep an eye on it easily. The werewolf turned west again and I brushed my hand over the invisible knife I wore on my right hip. It was good to know that werewolves couldn’t see through magic — or not my grandmother’s magic, at least.

∞

Fifteen more minutes trudging through the spring downpour, and we turned off into Tatlow Park. Kandy led me toward the First Avenue entrance. The park ran between Cornwall and West Third Avenue with multiple entrances. A kids’ play area, along with a parkboard house, was just off the Third Avenue entrance.

A short run of lawn quickly gave way to old, sparsely spaced fir trees. A little farther along, a walking bridge arched over a creek that usually ran dry. The park also continued across Cornwall to the north, but it was mostly lawn and ocean cliff there. I’d done a yoga class on the grass at sunset in that part of the park in July and August last year.

“We’re meeting in the park?” I couldn’t keep the dismay out of my voice. The thighs of my jeans were soaked through and getting uncomfortable.

Kandy didn’t answer, but she did stop. I closed the last two steps between us and waited. This close, I could see the sheen of magic on her skin. The rain seemed to sharpen it, or perhaps the reveal spell’s effect on my dowsing ability hadn’t fully worn off yet.

Kandy stilled — stiffened actually — her gaze drawn beyond the walking bridge. I turned my head to see what she was looking at. I saw him, the brutal man McGrowly from the club, by a stand of trees. Behind him the cedar and fir trees thickened into a grove along the west edge of the park.

He was watching us. I had no idea how long he’d been there, and I couldn’t sense any magic from him at all. Though now that I was focused in that direction, I could feel something behind him. A collection of people and something else … something not right …

McGrowly gestured to Kandy and she stepped forward.

I didn’t want to follow. I didn’t want to step any closer to what I was now feeling behind him, but I did. I told myself I was simply hyper-aware because of reveal spell’s residual magic, and that there was nothing to fear in the small wood.

McGrowly didn’t take his eyes off me as we approached. It wasn’t an admiring gaze. Even calling him McGrowly in my head wasn’t helping with the intimidation factor. When we were in front of him, Kandy stepped off to the side, then slid around McGrowly to disappear into the thickening trees.

I waited.

He took my measure and came up unimpressed. My pink paisley umbrella seemed to amuse him, not that he smiled. I doubt his face was capable of such things.

He lifted his nose and scented the air. I’d never seen a human do so before. It looked funny. I smirked. I probably shouldn’t have.

“What are you?” he asked, his voice deep and demanding.

“What are you?” I snarked back. I knew without question that my tone was a problem for him, because next thing I knew, I was pinned against a fir tree, my feet scrambling to find solid footing and my umbrella tossed to one side.

He wasn’t hurting me. His thick hand was spread across my upper chest, his fingers splayed across my collarbone. I was pinned, like a cat pins a kitten. I didn’t struggle and I didn’t meet his gaze, but I only remembered that last part because he wasn’t looking at my face. He was staring at my necklace, still wound three times around my neck. He’d been careful not to touch it. He must have been able to feel my heart thrumming against his palm, because I could. He seemed distrustful of the necklace.

I didn’t move. Hell, I tried not to breathe. The strength in that one hand scared the shit out of me, and was worse for the fact that he held me so lightly.

He flicked his eyes to mine. They were golden-brown and shot with flecks of iridescent green — emerald, like Kandy’s had glowed. However, he seemed completely in control, so I guessed that the kaleidoscope effect was normal for him.

I averted my eyes, and he huffed what was probably a snarky laugh — self-satisfied prick. He was completely aware that I was scared out of my mind, and he enjoyed it.

He leaned into me, his mouth slightly open, breathing in as if he was tasting my neck just an inch or so away from my carotid artery.

“What are you?” he murmured, but it wasn’t a question for me. He was just thinking out loud.

I answered anyway. I was stupid that way. Foolhardy, my Gran called me. “Half-witch. Half-human,” I snapped.

“Half-witch, yes. But the other half is something I’ve never smelled before. Something spicy, like Chinese food from Shanghai.”

“I do not smell like Chinese food!”

He laughed. It was a short burst of amusement at my expense.

“My back is digging into the damn tree,” I said.

“Does it hurt?” Oddly, it didn’t. Not exactly.

“It’s uncomfortable.”

“You deserve it,” McGrowly said, but it was a statement not an accusation.

“I told you, Desmond.” A cool voice spoke from behind me to the left. “The witch isn’t complicit, but she might be able to point us in the correct direction.” So McGrowly was Lord Desmond what’s-his-name. I should have known, what with all the high-handed pinning to trees going on.

“You didn’t tell me she smells like Chinese food, vampire.” The curl of Desmond’s lip was full of condemnation for the vampire, who had just stepped into my peripheral vision.

“It was not relevant,” the vampire said.

“I do not smell like Chinese food!” I repeated, not sure why I was making a big deal of it except it was just … insulting.

“The shifter is simply articulating, within his limited means, that you are not wholly witch.”

Desmond growled and released me. I ignored the urge to collapse against the tree and commanded my legs to hold me upright. They did. I didn’t miss the ‘limited means’ part of the vampire’s comment. He didn’t think highly of werewolves — or at least of Desmond.

“We haven’t been formally introduced.” The vampire held his right hand out to me. “I’m Kettil, Grand Conclave investigator —”

“ ‘Executioner’ would be more accurate,” Desmond interrupted.

I stared blankly at the vampire’s offered hand. I was doing a lot of that lately.

“I apologize for the incident on the bridge. I’ve discovered that I need to be … satiated to be around you for extended periods.” Well-fed, he meant. I made him lust for blood. Delightful.

“Playing nice now?” I asked as he inclined his head. “I’m still not going to touch you.”

Desmond laughed. No love was lost between these two predators, and maybe that was the problem. Vancouver was an awfully small territory for both of them to occupy. And here I was stuck in the middle — right now, literally. A cold wash of fear ran down my spine, but I covered by stepping toward and reaching for my umbrella. I didn’t fool either of them. When I turned back, I had two sets of too-bright eyes watching me. Perhaps the pre-dawn gloom didn’t help, but I had the distinct impression I was a mouse being tracked by a cat or bat. The bat thought amused me, at least internally, and McGrowly smirked as if he could read my thoughts. He couldn’t, of course; that wasn’t within his werewolf abilities, according to the
Compendium
. He could smell my fear abate, though, and for some reason, that amused him.

“Come then,” he said as he turned toward the thick of the trees, where Kandy had headed.

“I don’t want to go in there, do I?” I asked no one in particular, but the vampire — Kettle-whatever — answered.

“The necklace and the knife should shield you, if you access their magic.”

“What knife?” Desmond asked. He kept moving forward, but glanced back at Kettil.

“The magic-imbued one she keeps, obviously invisibly, strapped at her hip. I guess your enforcer missed it.” Kettil spoke all distantly cool and without a lick of sneer.

Desmond’s face turned into a reasonable facsimile of stone as he huffed off into the trees. I felt bad for Kandy. I was pretty sure she was the enforcer Kettil had mentioned, and that her lord and alpha was now probably pissed with her.

The feeling of wrongness increased with each step I took.
Access their magic
, the vampire had said, but I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Still, I curled one hand around my necklace and one hand around the hilt of my knife. I hadn’t even thought to pull it on the damn werewolf, McGrowly, when he was pawing at me. My instincts obviously needed a reboot.

“I thought vampires didn’t like the dawn,” I muttered. I knew the vamp was somewhere behind me because I could still feel his magic, though I couldn’t hear his footfalls.

“Myth,” he answered, proving he was hidden within the shadows of the gloom and the trees just to the left of my shoulder.

Desmond snorted, but didn’t turn around. I wasn’t sure whether he was laughing at my question or undercutting the veracity of the vampire’s claim. I guessed I’d know one way or the other soon enough.

I rounded another fir tree. The sun was rising somewhere behind the cloud cover, and I unfortunately had no problem following Desmond’s too-broad shoulders in the lightening gloom.

I knew nothing good could be at the dark center I could clearly feel ahead. This darkness was encircled by other magical signatures … I knew Kandy well enough to pick her magic out from the others.

I was right, of course. My newly honed instincts for horror and misery hadn’t deserted me.

∞

Though the gray sky was attempting to lighten with the dawn, the stand of trees was swathed in darkness. The boughs were so thick overhead that only an occasional drop of rain made it through.

I kept my eyes on the center of Desmond’s back; he was wide enough to block most of my forward view. I tried to not interpret the magic I was walking into. I tried to concentrate on the warm, earthy power emanating off the werewolf, or even the cold sharpness of the magic of the vampire behind me, whom I could still feel rather than hear. Actually, everyone but me was moving as if equipped with silence spells.

More magic surged up a few feet ahead. More werewolves. I wondered again at my heightened sensitivity, and whether the previous night’s reveal spell was more active than I thought. I wondered if this was going to be permanent, and wasn’t sure I’d be so enamored with that idea.

Desmond stopped and looked back at me. His eyes glowed green in the gray light. I couldn’t interpret his expression. He was too inscrutable for me.

He stepped to the side. The tall blond and the petite brunette werewolves from the club stood with Kandy in a small clearing beyond Desmond. They were all looking down at something on the ground, but shifted their glowing eyes up to me. It seemed everyone had enhanced vision here but me, and I was the only one hesitating to look down at the dark, oily patch of magic I could feel on the ground before me.

I looked down.

I’d already known what I was going to see. Why else would they have hauled me here? Why would all the wolves I’d met — except one — be gathered here?

Still, I expelled a painful moan before my throat closed up with emotion.

Hudson lay, obviously dead, beneath the fir trees. His body was sprawled across their roots, his beautiful, lean, sexy body flung like a teenager’s empty beer can — slightly crushed and utterly empty.

My chest hurt. I might not have been breathing.

Hudson’s eyes — now a dull, lifeless hazel — were open. His head was canted to one side.

“He was with you last night,” Kandy spat, but I barely registered her anger.

I was two steps away from his hand. It was palm up, fingers slightly curled. I wanted … oh, God, I had wanted to feel those hands on me … I had wanted …

“What the fuck is wrong with her?” Kandy said.

“She’s not breathing,” the vampire — Kett — murmured.

The gray of the day was starting to blacken at the edges. The necklace, which I was still clutching, was cutting into the soft skin of my hand.

Desmond whacked me between the shoulder blades. The trapped air in my lungs and throat expelled in a sob. I stumbled forward as if only my held breath had been keeping me upright. My body demanded I inhale, and with the painful intake of air, the sickening stench of dark magic filled my senses.

I choked. I fell forward and then twisted to one side as Kett caught my right arm just above my elbow. I angled right, going down on that knee as my stomach heaved.

I couldn’t take my eyes off Hudson’s dead gaze.

“She’s going to throw up,” Kett said.

“She can’t do that here,” Desmond replied.

“What the hell is going on?” Kandy asked with a snarl.

“The magic makes her sick,” Kett murmured as I wrenched my arm from his grasp and tore my eyes from Hudson.

I stumbled away but didn’t make it far. I fell to my hands and knees, my empty stomach heaving as my body tried to expel the oily, dark magic I’d inhaled.

“Here,” Kandy said as she pushed a wet wad of paper towel into my hands. I’d given it to her with the cupcakes.

I had nothing to throw up but bile. Large hands, almost too hot but soothing because of that, brushed my hair away from my cheeks.

“She couldn’t have done it, then?” Kandy asked in a whisper to whoever was holding my curls from my face, suddenly sticky with sweat. I brought up another wave of bile into the paper towels cupped in my hands.

“No,” Desmond answered. “But she has a scent for the magic now. She’s a tracker.”

“I’m not a tracker …” I twisted my head, hair, and body away from him to lean against the tree I’d fallen by. Kandy tried to take the paper towel from me. I fought her for it. It was just gross.

“Let her have it, witch,” Desmond snapped. “You don’t want it anywhere near here when the human authorities get their hands on the site.”