Chapter 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

With one final, painful twist that dug my bony fingertips deeper into my tender flesh, my hand released my throat. I sucked in a lungful of air, coughed, and wheezed.

Driven by pure instinct and a desperate need to escape, I fumbled to open my door and nearly fell out of my SUV. I went down hard on my hands and knees, too disoriented and in shock to feel the pain of hitting the pavement. My ears rang and my vision remained gray and blank.

I sensed movement behind me just before someone wrapped me in their arms and held me tight against their broad chest. I spooled magic to fight, but recognized Matthias's warm peppery scent and powerful golden magic before I had a chance to lash out.

He pressed something small and hard into my left palm. "Put the trace in the crystal," he told me, his mouth next to my ear so I could hear him over the roar in my ears.

At least I'd regained enough of my senses to do as he'd said. " Enclose ," I rasped.

The spirit's horrible, rotten magic slithered from my right hand into the crystal. I shuddered at the sensation and the resulting sharp pain that reminded me magic had cut that hand.

I didn't want to look at my hand, but I had to see if the nightmare vision of it decaying was real. As if he knew what I feared, Matthias's arm tightened around my waist. He took the crystal from me and cradled my hand palm-up in his own massive hand.

My last sight of my hand was of blackened flesh sloughing off my bones. What greeted me now as my vision cleared was grim, but not nearly as horrible as the illusion. My fingers and palm still had the deep lacerations left by the necromancer's magic and scrapes from the pavement, but the rest of my flesh was intact.

I made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob and looked around. "Malcolm?"

"He went to lockdown once you were freed by the spirit," Matthias said, his voice half growl. "We didn't know what the necromancer or spirit might do next, and I promised you would be safe with me."

I sagged in his arms, surprised and relieved that my ghost had jumped to his warded crystal. I had to credit Matthias for that minor miracle. Neither Malcolm nor I were known for leaving the other in potential danger simply to ensure our own safety. Rather the opposite, in fact.

Another silver lining to Matthias's time with the Vampire Court: he was nearly unflappable in a crisis. Even as I'd fought the spirit for control of my body and nearly strangled myself before leaping from the SUV to escape a threat he couldn't see, he'd had the presence of mind to grab the crystal I'd needed to contain the spirit's trace, hold me so I felt safe and grounded in the wake of the attack, and remind me to stash the magic before it dissipated. And he'd gotten Malcolm to safety by promising to protect me.

Keeping me in his lap so I wasn't sitting on pavement, Matthias tore off one of his long sleeves and carefully wrapped my injured hand. Meanwhile, I gingerly touched my neck and found several bloody gouges and sore spots where I'd tried to pull my hand away from my throat.

As he tended to my hand, I noticed something on the inside of his right bicep, where the skin was thinner and more sensitive: scars that looked very much like fingernail or claw marks.

For a moment, I felt displaced, as if I were in two places at once. I blinked at my bandaged hand, at the manicure I'd gotten for Daniel and Nan's wedding. Just like after my fainting spell, I saw an afterimage of something like talons protruding from my fingertips. This time their blackened, pointed ends dripped blood.

The sound of my phone ringing startled me. The strange vision faded.

Matthias answered the call. "She will be all right," he said without a greeting. "There was an incident involving dark magic, but her injuries are minor. She is disoriented at the moment."

I had no doubt who'd called. Sean must have felt something happening through our nascent bond. "I'm okay," I managed to say, though my voice wobbled. His sharp ears would hear me.

Then I remembered my promise not to tell him I was all right when I wasn't, so I added, "I mean, I will be okay as soon as I use a healing spell."

Matthias held my phone to my ear so I could hear Sean's response.

"Alice," he said, his voice deep and growly. "I was running in wolf form at the pack land. I got back to my phone and shifted as quickly as I could. What the hell was that?" He sighed. "Scratch that. Just tell me how badly you're hurt."

"Only cuts on my hand and neck," I assured him.

"It felt much worse than that."

It wasn't an accusation, really, but he clearly didn't entirely believe me.

"There was more, but it was just an illusion," I explained. "I'll fill you in later when I see you." I had a mental image of Sean in wolf form trying to use his phone. That made me smile, though my hand— along with everything else—hurt like the dickens and my tummy roiled like I'd just gotten off a rollercoaster.

I glanced around the parking lot. Thankfully, no one seemed to have noticed us. "Let me heal myself and figure out what we need to do now. I'll see you in a while. Don't rush home. I'm sure your wolf would like to run and hunt for a while longer. We need our alpha at his best." After a beat, I added, "Matthias has me."

"I know," Sean said. His voice had warmed considerably, as if he knew I'd said it as much for Matthias's sake than to ease his own worry. "I'll stay for a few more hours, then."

Not that long ago, I would have eaten tacks before I'd have said anyone "had me," much less allowed someone to take that role. I might be up to my ears in trouble, but my life had changed dramatically for the better since Malcolm and I had met. Even sitting in the lap of a newly turned werewolf in a strip mall parking lot with a shredded hand, weird visions, scraped knees, and brand-new nightmare fodder in the form of a scuzzy specter, I had that fundamental truth to lean on.

"I love you," I said.

I heard the smile in Sean's voice when he replied, "I know."

Once I ended the call, Matthias rose and lifted me to my feet.

Who had given him those scars on his arm? He'd consumed Valas's blood regularly, so he shouldn't have any scars. I hadn't noticed any until just now, and only because I'd gotten a close look at the underside of his arm.

Maybe Valas herself had hurt him. It was a strange place to dig your nails into someone…unless the moment had been intimate. That was a whole other level of Matthias's time with the Court that concerned me deeply. Any sex between Valas and Matthias could not have been consensual, even if he'd acquiesced. Not when she had all the power and he had none.

If Matthias guessed what I was thinking, he didn't let on. "Would you like me to drive?" he asked.

"That is not a bad idea," I admitted .

He bent his head and murmured, "We are under surveillance. Black car with tinted windows, backed into the third spot from the end, in front of the barbershop."

Anger made magic spark on my fingers. "The Court?"

"I don't believe so. The Court does not favor that kind of vehicle."

He had a point there. The black car was a standard four-door sedan. Luxury and horsepower were the only way the vamps or their people traveled.

"Is it Mr. Touchy again?" I asked.

"It's not the same vehicle, but possibly. I can't see the driver or passenger—just shadows."

"Can you see the make, model, and plate?"

"Yes. I've memorized them."

"Okay. Let's see what they do when we move."

He helped me into the passenger seat, then hurried around the SUV to climb in on the driver's side. As he shut his door, my phone rang again. The number was local but not in my call history.

Cautiously, I answered and put the call on speaker. "This is Alice."

A familiar voice barked, "Worth, what are you doing spying on my crime scene?"

Matthias rumbled.

Through the windshield, I looked up the hill again toward the medical center. Even from this distance I recognized the figure standing at the edge of the parking lot, facing us, holding a phone to his ear.

"Detective Diaz," I said. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm picking up my dry cleaning."

"Dry cleaning. Right. Was that before or after you face-planted in the parking lot and needed first aid?"

Crap. Apparently our little drama hadn't gone unnoticed after all.

When I didn't reply, he asked, "Have you been drinking, Ms. Worth?"

"Only coffee, Detective." I glared in his direction, though he couldn't see me through my tinted windshield. "Was there a point to this call? Should I remind you I have an attorney and your questions need to go through him?"

"I want to know how you knew to come here." His voice had gone decidedly chilly. "And don't tell me it was for your dry cleaning. I will haul your ass in for obstruction if I have to."

"I'm not obstructing you in any way. Whatever's going on up there can't have anything to do with my case, right? Oliver's under house arrest. These crimes must be unrelated. That's what your police department spokesperson is about to tell the press, I'm sure."

"Alice…Ms. Worth." Diaz heaved a sigh. "I would like to know what you think is going on."

"Yesterday you thought it was all bullshit. Or am I misremembering your words?"

"I do think it's bullshit." He blew out a breath. "But maybe it's not."

I had a sudden thought. "You're not having me tailed, are you?"

"No. Why? Someone following you?" When he spoke again, his brusque cop voice was back. "Wait—did something happen and that's why you looked injured?"

Before I had a chance to reply, another familiar figure joined Diaz at the edge of the parking lot. I recognized Ferguson's lanky build. "Later," Diaz said, and abruptly ended the call.

I watched him stick his phone in his pocket, exchange a few words with Ferguson, and disappear back in the direction of the yellow tape.

While I'd been talking to Diaz, Matthias had taken my burner phone and texted the license plate from the car parked in front of the barbershop. "No reply yet on either inquiry," he said at my raised eyebrows. "The delay is frustrating."

"I know. Zola will get back to us as soon as she can. I wish I had the kind of resources you're used to at the Court, but I don't." My hands and neck throbbed with pain and my knees ached. I took a mid-level healing spell from my bracelet and unwrapped my sliced hand. "You might want to get out of the SUV," I told him. "These healing spells cause pain and your wolf isn't going to be happy about it." The first time I'd used a strong healing spell in front of Sean, he'd almost lost it, and he had far more command over his wolf than Matthias.

Even so, I wasn't surprised at all when Matthias said, "I choose to stay. I have to learn control."

"Okay. Don't touch the spell or me until it's done." As much as it hurt to do so, I forced myself to close my bloody fist around the crystal. I drew on the green earth magic and invoked the spell. " Helios ."

Magic pulsed from the crystal. As the cuts, gouges, and abrasions healed, I locked my jaw and hunched in my seat, breathing in quick gasps and letting out measured groans so no screams escaped. Matthias's golden magic seared my arms and he growled almost nonstop, but he stayed in his seat and didn't interfere.

When the last of the spell faded, I dropped the crystal into the cupholder, bent over, and rested my head on my arms.

"Are you going to be sick?" Matthias asked.

"Thinking about it," I mumbled, forgetting that he didn't know my sense of humor yet. When I heard him rummaging in the back seat, I added, "No, I'm fine. Just—" I hiccupped "—queasy."

My burner phone buzzed. Matthias picked it up and checked the screen. "Your contact at the DMV reports both Mr. Touchy's and this new shadow's tags were reported stolen," he said. "So no help there."

"Fabulous." I found a partial bottle of water in my bag and took a few swigs. "Let's get home," I said. "I need to get Malcolm out of his hidey-hole, see what I can determine about this magic I got from the ghost grenade Mr. Touchy tossed at Malcolm, and take a longer look at those surveillance videos."

"What about these?" Matthias pointed at the crystals containing the necromancer's magic and the malevolent spirit's trace.

"Those I'm going to need help with." I touched my neck to check on my wounds, then dropped my hand back into my lap just as quickly. The gouges and scratches left by my fingernails had healed, but I couldn't stand to touch my own throat. "Contrary to what Malcolm seems to believe, I do not live to play with fire."

"Only certain types of fire," Matthias said.

"Okay, I'll give you that one." I leaned my head back against the seat. "Let's see if our shadow tails us home. Maybe we'll get a glimpse of them along the way. Thank you, by the way."

He frowned. "For what?"

He was probably not used to being thanked for anything, from the small to the significant. "Everything," I said.

Matthias backed out of our parking space, made a smooth turn, and pulled into traffic. "You're welcome," he said.

In my side view mirror, I watched the black car with the dark tinted windows fall in two cars behind us.

I stole a glance at the top of the hill. Diaz stood with Ferguson, his back to us. As we drove past, he turned to look at us over his shoulder. I didn't know if he noticed the black car or not. I also didn't know where we'd go from here, or what he'd do if I told him what I suspected had happened to Madison, nurse Stephanie Harris, or the assault victims.

Everything was an unknown right now, other than I was glad to have so many people at my back. That meant whatever I ended up facing—today, tomorrow, or in the future—I wouldn't face it alone. And that was worth a hell of a lot.