Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) (11 page)

But I don’t.

“Do you know where I was?” I continue. “I was at Albert’s gym. With the wolves. Pretending to work out when I’m really trying to figure out what the hell is going on because
you
,” I actually poke him in the chest with my finger, “won’t tell me.” Barnabe’s eyes go wide and Luke and Noah scramble to their feet.

My tiger leaps in front of me. I don’t remember calling her out, but there she is, teeth bared, whiskers twitching. Thick drops of black smoke drip from my fingers and darken the ground. I taste blood. I hear my name, over and over.

And then Barnabe reaches out and touches a single finger to my forehead. The power that surges through me is the force of a thousand universes exerting their will on me. A tsunami wrapped in an earthquake and sealed with a warm summer breeze.

I take a breath.

My head stops aching.

My heart stops its thunderous torment of my ribs.

My nose and ears stop bleeding.

“You’re right,” says Barnabe. I blink. And swallow. Whatever he did, I’m calm. And rested. And stronger than I’ve felt in a long time.

Barnabe turns to Noah. “She’s right.” And then to Luke.

They both nod, looking confused and frightened and unsure. I want to tell them I’m fine, but I’m not ready to talk yet. I’m not sure what will happen when I do.

Barnabe reaches towards me and I flinch, but he only pulls the amulet out from under my shirt. He clasps it in his hands and mutters something under his breath and there’s another warm rush of power but I don’t feel any different. Which is good. I don’t think I could handle
more
different.

“Get your things.” Barnabe gestures at all of us, looking somehow like a father rushing his children out the door. “Come on. Let’s go.”

We all just stand there and look at him, baffled.

“Oh, right. Explanations are in order, I guess. You’ve worked very hard and have been on five successful missions now. I think a celebration is in order.”

A celebration? He wants to
celebrate
? It’s late and I’m tired and I don’t know how much more of this I can handle. Barnabe shoots me a look and I consider shooting him one right back, but apparently my little outburst is over. I realize I’m still wearing my coat.

“How ready should we get?” I ask, indicating my outfit.

Barnabe steps back and studies each of us in turn. “Way more ready than that. But we don’t have a lot of time so we’re gonna have to use magic.” I inwardly cringe. I’m a little done with magic right now. Barnabe acknowledges my thought with a little shrug.

“You’re right. No more magic for you tonight, young lady. You need to rest. Consider this one on the house.”

And with a wave of his hand, power erupts into our little living room. It’s in my hair and tingling across my skin and dancing over my face and lips. I close my eyes and take a breath. When I open them, the first thing I see is Noah. In a tux. Blue eyes gleaming, hair shining. And then I see Luke. Also in a tux. Broad shoulders made all the broader by the well-cut jacket. And then I see the look on their faces as they stare at me.

“I may have outdone myself this time,” Barnabe whispers and shoos me down the hall towards a mirror.

I’m in a floor length gown, gleaming with beads and sequins, cut just right to show off my figure. My hair is piled on my head in a series of curls and loops, arranged to highlight my eyes. Long crystal earrings dance around my neck. Barnabe’s amulet is now a choker, shimmering with stones that look like they cost more than I’ll ever earn in all of my life. I stand, mouth open, tears pricking my eyes. I’ve never felt so beautiful.

And then there’s a wrenching and my ears pop and I’m not in my bedroom anymore.

Chapter Thirteen

As far as transportation spells go, that was one of the smoothest ones I’ve experienced. It’s still a bit unpleasant, standing in one place one second, and then another place the next. Disorienting and all that. Just not as much as usual. Barnabe Wither’s is one hell of a powerful warlock. And I just told him off, had the audacity to poke him in the chest with my finger. I should probably be glad I’m not dead right now. Hell, the night’s still young, I shouldn’t count my chickens yet I guess.

Wherever we are, it’s warmer. My shoulders and a good portion of my back are exposed in this gown and there’s nothing more than a very light breeze wrapping itself around my skin. There’s the faint crash of waves on a beach behind me, a tinge of salt and humidity in the air. I whirl, hoping for my first view of the ocean and find myself in front of a huge home, all windows and angles, a long set of stairs leading up to a well-lit door. The ocean must be behind the place. I breathe it all in, wondering if this is really what the ocean smells like.

Barnabe catches our attention and leads us up the stairs, taking them two at a time in long powerful strides. “Smiles on, my friends,” he says, hand poised at the door to knock. “Stay with me and try not to stare too much. Engage in polite conversation and disengage if things get … uncomfortable.”

He pushes through the doors and leads us into a huge home decorated in clean lines and simple colors. Music threads its way through the place. There’s the murmur of conversation and laughter. And power. So much power. It’s almost like I can see it running across the walls and the floors. The paintings and the rugs. Taste it in the air.

I reach out for Noah, entwine my pinky finger with his. Square my shoulders and stand tall.

Barnabe leads us through the place, room after room containing well-dressed people engaged in light conversation. All of them witches. All of them powerful. All of them turn to stare at our progress, their eyes following us as we cross the floor, conversation forgotten until we’re gone. Eventually, we get to a set of sliding glass doors and Barnabe leads us out onto the deck.

“Here you go, Zoe. The ocean.” He makes a grand gesture and I can’t help myself. I forget how strange it felt to walk through that house and move to the edge of the deck. Put my hands on the rails. Strain to see through the dark. I can’t make out much but there’s a vastness stretching out in front of me, the rhythmic crash of the waves, and another gentle breeze. I hope we stay until morning so I can really see it all.

There’s a flare of light beside me. Barnabe’s got a ball of energy floating above his open palm. He sends it out, expanding as it gets further away from us, putting out more and more light, until I see the ocean for the first time in my life. I sigh and I smile and I can’t look away.

Eventually, the light fades. “Thank you,” I say.

“Your wish, my command and all that.”

I think he’s got it backwards. You know, master and sword and all that. But I’m not gonna say that out loud. Except I can tell by the wry little twist to his mouth that I don’t have to. Barnabe heard it loud and clear.

“Now that we’ve got that important matter out of the way, I’m going to turn you loose to celebrate. All I ask is that you respect my home and my guests. These are very important people. They’re all very powerful and perhaps a little,” he waves his hand, “eccentric.” He leads us towards the door, back into the house, and I’m not really sure I want to go. “Be polite. But have fun,” he admonishes and once again, I feel like a child being spoken to by a father.

And then, without further ado, we’re back inside. Once again, all conversation stops and I’m pinned to the floor by too many sets of eyes. Maybe it’s the stress of the day, maybe it’s the strain on my magic, maybe it’s just the timing of everything, but for the first time in a long time, my senses do that crazy ‘too much information’ thing. I see the polished wood floors, the crystal glasses of
something
in the guests’ hands, the glitter of so many sequined ball gowns and jewels glinting at necks and ears. There’s the swoop and swell of the music and someone laughing in the next room over. There’s the scurry of men and women in white shirts and black jackets weaving through guests, carrying trays of food and drink.

And there’s the rush of my breath in my lungs. The roar of my blood in my ears. The screaming uncertainty in my head. I hated this feeling back then and I still hate it now and it’s made all the worse because I have no idea why it’s happening to me again.

Luke takes my hand and I resist the desire to wrench it out of his grasp. “Dance with me?”

I should say no, but I’m too overwhelmed. He takes my silence as acquiescence and leads me away. I follow numbly and cast a glance at Noah. He shrugs and smiles, wraps his arms across his chest. Leans against the wall. Looks at his feet.

Luke sweeps me into his arms and holds me close. As close as I’ll let him, that is. I’m not leaning into him. Now that he’s got me swaying around the room and attention has turned from us and conversations have started back up again, I’m feeling way less Old Zoe and just enough New Zoe to make it clear that I’m in control.

Luke bends down and whispers in my ear. “You know, you’re gonna have to at least pretend like you’re enjoying yourself. People are watching.”

“They can all go to hell.”

“You’re too pretty to scowl like that.”

“You’re too much of an ass to make me do anything else.”

Luke sighs and his face grows serious. “What happened between us?”

I go rigid, but Luke’s stronger than me and sweeps me up, keeps me dancing. “What happened?” How can he even be asking me that question? “You mean aside from the whole thing where you lied to me and pretended to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes. Aside from that. Because I thought I made it pretty clear that night you met me in the cemetery that I have feelings for you.” He leans in closer than I want him to. “And let’s be honest, you made some things pretty clear yourself.”

I think back to the night, his profile illuminated in the moonlight, his strong arms wrapped around me, how much I wanted his lips pressed to mine…

But then I remember how awful I felt when Noah found us together. How much I’ve missed Noah’s friendship since that night. How happy I am for things to finally be feeling OK between us again. And I remember other things, too. The vagrant under the bridge. The one Luke killed without even a hint of remorse. The joy on his face when we’re hunting our targets, killing vampires. The night at Pulse when I needed him to watch me and he couldn’t get his eyes off that girl in the red dress.

“I was confused back then.” I say, turning my head so I’m looking just past his ear. “You’d done everything you could to make me fall in love with you, remember? I was still dealing with those residual emotions.”

“Residual emotions, huh. Fancy words.”

I can’t tell if he’s trying to make me smile or if he’s trying to piss me off. I ignore his comment on my vocabulary. “Did you think they’d just go away? You treated me better than anyone had ever treated me.” He leads me into a swooping spin and I catch sight of Noah, still leaning against the wall, watching us. “Well almost anyone,” I add. “You made me feel seen. Made me feel like what I had to say mattered to you. You didn’t let me stay quiet and locked up inside myself, but you didn’t make me feel stupid when I did get all quiet and locked up inside. Can you even begin to imagine how that made me feel? After an entire lifetime of being trapped in my own head?”

I finally look up to meet his gaze and there’s so much conflicting emotion dancing around I just shut up and look away again. “I’m sorry, Zoe.”

“Ya, well. Too little, too late,” I say it and I mean it. There’s not one part of me that cares for Luke. He’s just that asshole I have to work with because my boss says so. We’re supposed to be here, celebrating our success at having Lucy know exactly who we are and what we’re doing. This, dancing with Luke at some stuffy party, feels as much like celebrating as having a psychotic predator know you want her dead feels like a reason to celebrate. When the song comes to an end, I push away.

“Excuse me,” I say, aware of more than one set of eyes on us, and walk away. I find one of the guys carrying the little silver trays laden with crystal glasses. I was hoping for alcohol, but there’s a strange glow to the viscous liquid that makes me more than a little nervous. I swirl it around, watch it coat the sides of the glass and slide back down to the bottom. I even give it a little sniff, hoping to figure out what it is. There’s so much magic and power filling this house, I can’t tell how much, if any, is coming from the drink.

“It’s entirely safe and totally delicious.” Barnabe says from behind me.

“What is it?”

“It’s a very expensive elixir designed to help bring youth back to the body and mind. Although in your case, it’ll help
keep
youth in the body and mind.” I cast a quick glance around those gathered and find quite a few people drinking the elixir without any ill effect.

“What does it taste like?”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

I take a small sip and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. It’s like eating fresh berries in the sunshine. No. It’s more than that. It’s like being fed fresh berries by the love of your life while sun streams down on the both of you. My body warms from the inside out and the stress I didn’t know I was feeling from my little discussion with Luke fades away. I take another drink and Barnabe nods in approval.

“Is Daya here?” I scan the crowd for a familiar face.

Barnabe laughs. “Oh, no. Letting her see me be anything other than strange and mysterious would utterly destroy the fear I’ve cultivated in her.

“Why do you want her afraid of you?” I take another drink.

“Have you ever met anyone as flamboyant and vivacious as Daya?”

I shake my head, intrigued by the quick flash of humor that crosses Barnabe’s face. “No. I haven’t. I think I called her a psychedelic grandma once.”

“Exactly. Now,” Barnabe leans close and I lean in as well. “Imagine how extraordinarily hilarious it is for me to watch her try to be all demure and
quiet
.”