Raven Cursed: A Jane Yellowrock Novel (34 page)

“Jane! The front door is open.” Grizzard stuck his head into the scion lair.

Dacy looked around, counting. “One got out.”

“Thomas.” There was dread in Pickersgill’s voice, and I couldn’t imagine what might alarm a vamp who had lived through the cold war, the Cuban missile crisis, and the death of President Kennedy, as well as all the post 9-11 stuff.

I really didn’t want to know, but I asked anyway. “What’s so bad about Thomas?”

Pickersgill said, “He was Lincoln’s primo blood-servant until he was injured in the line of duty and Linc brought him over. He’s been sane for three years, but he . . . uh—”

“He’s a Naturaleza,” Dacy stated tonelessly. “We didn’t know until he came out of devoveo.”

“Well, crap,” I whispered. The Naturaleza believed that they had a
right
to hunt and kill humans, just because they were at the top of the food chain. They were way more dangerous than any rogue, because they were thinking, intelligent, sociopathic killers, often with resources like safe houses and bank accounts their masters didn’t know about. If Shaddock had known, Thomas would never have been turned. He would have been allowed to die a normal human death, or been put down. If he was sane, and hadn’t yet killed a human, then he didn’t fall under the category of young-rogue, therefore he wasn’t mine to hunt until I was asked, and I wasn’t sure who
was
supposed to hunt him. Things had just FUBARed. I pulled a length of leather off a thigh strap and bound my injured knee, almost gagging with the pain, but the bleeding slowed. I rolled to one hip, pulled my phone, and speed-dialed Leo. He answered on the first ring.

“Things did not go well,” he said. The MOC was prescient. Maybe he read tea leaves. Or blood stains in the bottom of his glass. Or maybe he had access to the security system here at Shaddock Central. He had access to the cameras in all his Louisiana vamps’ clan homes, so why not here as well?

“No. They didn’t.” I considered Leo. Yeah. The MOC may not know much about computers, but Leo’s wealth could buy all the knowledge and expertise he wanted. Smart money said he had access to everything. “They had a sane vamp in captivity, a Naturaleza. He got free.”

Leo breathed a string of French curse words into the cell, then broke off right in the middle, and laughed. It was one of those silky laughs they do when they have you over a barrel, a gotcha laugh that made my skin want to crawl into a hole and curl protectively around itself. “It is my understanding,” he said, “that you are my
Enforcer
.” He capitalized the term, saying it the way he did Rogue Hunter, making it a title.

Titles and Leo’s delight meant that I was in trouble. If I said no, then I had lied to the vamps. If I said yes, then I was agreeing to a relationship with him. Which meant that I had to drink from him. And to Leo, drinking and sex went hand in hand. Or fang in vein. Leo had tried to kill me enough times while he was seriously whacko for me to avoid
that
like the plague.
Crap
. A dozen possible responses flashed through my mind. I settled on, “Not . . . officially.”

“Not . . . officially,” he repeated, as if tasting the words. “This is correct. I would advise you to choose your words with more care in future, when you claim to be something you are not.” I took a breath. I had dodged a bullet. “Yet,” he added.
Ooookay
. Maybe not so much dodged as still in the laser sights, but the trigger hadn’t been squeezed. “For now, I confer upon you the temporary entitlement to pursue and dispatch this Mithran who holds the Vampira Carta in such disregard. Allow me to speak with the sheriff.”

Yep. Ol’ Leo had access to the security cams. “How much?” I asked.

“Pardon?” he said, going all Frenchy on me. Leo knew what I was asking. When I didn’t reply, he sighed into the cell, and said, “I will meet your usual terms, plus twenty percent, as this Mithran is no young-rogue, and will be more difficult than others to dispatch.”

I thought about that for a long moment and nodded, though he couldn’t see it. Except in the cameras. I looked up at one and said, “Thirty. And you pay for any and all research and hazard pay for any backup, assuming I need them.”

Leo laughed, a low caress of sound that brought a flush of heat to my face even from hundreds of miles away. “Your terms are acceptable, my
Enforcer
.” The endearment flowed over me like a caress. Vamps, the really old ones, can
do that—affect the pleasure centers of the brains with just their voices. Dang it. “Compel Pickersgill to heal your leg,” he added.

Yep. Leo was in Shaddock’s system. “I’ll make sure I’m healed,” I said, skirting an honest acknowledgment. I needed to shift to fix my knee. No vamp was gonna get his tongue on me if could help it. The mention of my leg brought the pain in it hammering to the surface.

I called Grizzard over and handed him my cell. I was just about to be assigned carte blanche to execute a thinking killing machine, and the local law was being told to stand down and let me do my job, all under the auspices of a clause under the Vampira Carta that was tenuous at best and down right illegal at worst. My only other choice was to let him go on a killing spree and allow the sheriff’s men to try and take him down. Between a rock and a hard place. Again. Go me.

Working the accelerator and brake with my left leg, I sped down 70 into a low-hanging fog, a bag of ice strapped on my knee with a length of flex. Using the speakerphone, I made calls as I negotiated the curves, the first to Reach. Fortunately Leo was paying for his services. “Jane Yellowrock,” he answered, “my most interesting client. What can I charge you for today?”

“This goes on Pellissier’s tab.”

“My favorite words,” he said. The tab had just gone up by a huge percentage. Reach would work for anyone, but his prices were on a sliding scale and vamps had to pay more. I could hear keys clicking in the background. “Work order name?”

“Thomas Stevenson, formerly—”

“Lincoln Shaddock’s primo, turned just after 9-11, and still chained.”

“Not anymore. Sane, psycho, and free.”

“Sounds like a fun search. And because he’s crazy and hungry, you need it fast. More money for me. You need all pre-turn financial records including tax info, banking both on and offshore and in numbered accounts, real properties in his name, and a quick run through of friends, family, and acquaintances. Probably need a list of any properties they own as well.”

“Good. And while you’re clacking around in virtual
space, see what you can find on a history of Evangelina Everhart. I want deep background. If she potty trained early or wrote a poem in third grade, I want to see it.”

“I have the financials on the witch collated, and am sending them over now. Anything else?”

Dollar signs were dancing a tango in my hindbrain. This was gonna cost Leo a fortune. The fog thinned and I gunned the engine, only to hit a thicker patch that forced me to brake hard. “Probably. If so I’ll call. Send the records to my e-mail. Anything hinky, call.”

“Will do.”

The call ended and I slowed again as the white closed in around the SUV like a blanket. I dialed Derek twice before the call went through, the atmospheric conditions ripe for interference. On my third try he said, “Go ahead.”

Short and sweet. That’s Derek. And if his attitude was anything to go by, I’d either be finding new help or taking our problems to the boxing ring. Maybe literally. “I’ll be away a while. You’re in charge of Grégoire.”

“Fine.” He hung up with a resounding click, hard to do on a cell.

Rain splattered against the windshield. I needed both hands on the wheel, which meant I needed hands-free calling. Next on my wish list from Leo. More urgent, I needed to get to Evangelina’s, and see if Shaddock was there. And I needed to help Big Evan find a way to wake Molly up from Evangelina’s spell, if he’d let me. And then I had to find a way to . . .
Crap
. Again, I was flying by the seat of my pants and had no idea how I was gonna accomplish the job and still keep my friends safe.

The phone rang and it was Molly’s number. Again. I punched the call button and heard crying.
Angelina
. The guilt and worry I had been shoving away rolled over me like a tsunami.
It’s the middle of the night. What is she doing up, using her mother’s cell?
“Hey, Angie Baby.”

“Aunt Jane, you need to come see me. Now. Mommy and Daddy won’t wake up. Come now. Come
now
!”

My heart did a cartwheel that left me breathless. “I’m on my way.” I switched to my right leg, pressed the accelerator to the floor and fishtailed around a curve. The road disappeared as the headlights illuminated only fog in a roiling
wave. I compensated and braked, depending on the antilock breaking system, before easing the accelerator down. “I’ll be there in less than a hour. Can you let the wards down?”

“Yes. I can let them down. I’m a big girl.”

But I could still hear the tears. “Are you okay? Is Little Evan okay?” My leg was throbbing and a wet warm sensation gathered under me. I was bleeding again. I didn’t care.

“No. I’m sick. And Little Evan throwed up in his crib.” The call gave a staticky silence and picked back up on her words, “. . . urry, Aunt Jane. Hurry.”

“I’m coming as fast as I can, Angie. I need you to talk to me, so you can stay awake. Okay?” I took a tighter curve and passed an eighteen-wheeler with no room to spare between it and whatever lay in the white shadows off the road. When Angie sniffled agreement, I said, “Tell me how long your mama and daddy have been asleep.”

“They went to bed before dinner. I can’t wake them up. And you wouldn’t call me back.” She was crying in earnest now and my shame was stabbing deeper. She sounded so sleepy.

I had to keep her awake. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promise from now on, I’ll always call you back. Always. Angie are you there?” When she mumbled a yes, I said, “Angie, I need for you do something for me. I need you to go into your mama and daddy’s bedroom and see if anything is spelled. Like a present Aunt Evangelina gave her. Can you do that?” Maybe if I kept her moving, I could keep her awake.

“You mean like the earrings she gived to Mama?”

My hands tightened so hard the steering wheel gave with a soft squeak of damaged rubber. But I kept my voice neutral and calm. “Yes. Like that. Go look at them and tell me if they have a spell on them, okay?”

“Okay. But don’t touch them, right? My angel said not to touch them.”

“Right.” I could hear snoring over the cell, the low rumble of a bear in hibernation. Big Evan. “Do you see the earrings? What do they look like?”

“Mama’s wearing them in her ears. They are pink and
gold. And they got pink sparklies on them.” She yawned hugely. “I’m sleepy, Aunt Jane.”

Crapcrapcrap!
I didn’t know enough about magic to make a decision.
What to do?
“Okay. I want you to get Little Evan out of his crib and let down the wards. Then I want you to climb into your mama’s van with a blanket and wait for me.” When she didn’t answer, I said, gently, “Angie?” I took a curve and the call stuttered. I heard Angie say something. And then silence.

“Angie! Angie!” I had lost the call.

I didn’t have the other Everhart sisters’ numbers on my cell. But I did have Reach. I pushed the number and when he answered, I said, “I need assistance.”

“I’m not your servant.”

“A little girl and a toddler are in trouble. You gonna let ’em die?”

“Like I said before, you are my most interesting client. Profit-making, too.”

“Yeah, whatever. This is on my tab. I need you to look up the numbers of the Everhart sisters, dial the numbers, one by one, and when someone answers, put me through. Start with Boadacia and Elizabeth. I think they live together.”

“Secretary. I’m playing secretary,” he grumbled. But I heard keys clacking and a moment later, an automated answering message invited me to leave a number. Several clicks later, another message answered, this time with Elizabeth’s voice. “Leave a number and I’ll get back to you.”
Crap
. Why weren’t they at home? Unless they were there and spelled. The fear sucked at me, pulling me down, drowning.

“Try Carmen Miranda Everhart Newton,” I said.

Following more clacking and more silence, Reach said, “No answer, no message. Just rings.”

“Regan and Amelia Everhart.”

Regan answered on the second ring, sounding groggy, as if waked from deep dreams. Relief slammed through me, almost painful. “Regan, this is Jane Yellowrock. Wake up. Your sisters are in trouble.”

Regan didn’t want to believe me when I told her that her witch sisters had been spelled by Evangelina, insisting
that it was probably a group working gone wrong, but she and her sister did get out of bed and start the drive up the mountain to Molly’s. The girls had no power of their own, but they had been raised among witches and the manipulation of energy, so I was hopeful that they could guide me in freeing Molly and Evan. Unfortunately, I beat them to the refurbished house on the top of the mountain.

The peak was shrouded in dense fog, no outside lights were on, and the house was darker than the armpit of hell. I didn’t reweapon. If there was danger here, it wasn’t something I could kill with stakes, blades, or even my M4. Beast padded just under my skin, lending me her night vision, her strength and speed tingling just under my skin like her pelt rising. A snarl lifted my lips and my jaw ached, as Beast’s killing teeth strained to break free. I slid from the SUV.

My leg was cold where the blood was cooling, and the wound felt like fire, a burning throb of pain. I limped to the house, moving slowly, silently, trying to see the ward before I ran nose first into it. Bumping into Molly’s wards tended to result in a siren loud enough to deafen. But the siren didn’t sound, not even when my palm bumped something dark. The thud sounded dull, hollow in the encasing cloud. My fingertips touched metal, cold and wet beneath the fog. Molly’s van. Hope detonated through me like mini fireworks and I found the passenger door by feel. It opened easily, and mist puffed in. The interior light came on, too bright, making a halo around the vehicle.