14. Emma

FOURTEEN

Emma

The leather hugged my body as I adjusted to the passenger seat of Beth's car, her pride and joy. The gleam of the dashboard reflected her smile; she was in her element behind the wheel. In the back, Carol and Deva were bobbing their heads to the music, and I couldn’t help but smile. I always felt like I was in my element when I was with my friends.

"Thanks for coming out with us, Beth, I know you’re probably exhausted after being up all night,” I said.

She yawned. "It’s okay. I wanted to be here.”

"Okay, so we're clear on why we're seeking out Broth?" Beth glanced at me through the rearview mirror, then over to Carol in the backseat.

I was immediately confused. Wasn’t it obvious? We were seeking him out to see if he was the one attacking people. And from the sounds of the man, he very well might be exactly who we’ve been looking for.

"Broth could be our guy." I pulled a strand of wind-tossed hair from my mouth.

"No." Beth tapped the steering wheel. "He's not the real problem here. Broth has been a werewolf for a long time. He didn’t go crazy and kill someone. Well, probably not. He doesn’t have any motivation to be attacking these people, as far as we know. He could, however, have been incentivized by someone…"

I felt a light switch on in my head. Of course! But I wasn’t the one to say it.

"Jamur Hede," Carol muttered contemptuously from the back. "That man would sell his soul if it meant he could claim something that wasn’t his, the freaking scam artist."

"But he’s not the type to get his hands dirty. He is, however, the type to pay to get someone else’s hands dirty,” I said.

"He’s a real coward,” Deva said, shaking her head. "It’s all about the money for him.”

Beth nodded. "That's the thing. It's not just about the land. It's personal for him. According to one of my sources, he's been after these lands for years, and every time, something stops him. This time, he's desperate. If he doesn’t get the town to acknowledge his claim over the lands, they’ll become protected lands, and he’ll never get his hands on them. He’s desperate."

"Desperate enough to pay someone to attack committee members?" I knew the answer but needed to hear it out loud.

"Exactly." She signaled and turned onto a road that would lead us to Steel Knife. "It's not that Broth went crazy. Jamur Hede might have paid him off to do the dirty work, to stop the lands from being protected. We've seen it before."

"Money talks." Carol pulled a face.

"Unfortunately," Beth sighed. "But we're going to set things right. As right as they can be set."

Deva leaned forward and asked, "Do we know anything about the lands that are in question?”

Without looking beside her, Beth reached around and pulled out a map, handing it to Deva. Deva opened it up and whistled low. I turned in my seat to see a big plot of land outlined in red.

Beth released an audible breath. "It’s a lot of land. Even the land the unicorns seem to be living in. I imagine there are a number of magical creatures hidden in those woods. Creatures that wouldn’t do well if someone was suddenly tearing down all the trees to put up buildings and parking lots.”

I settled into my seat. This was bigger than us, but we were all in. Protecting the lands was worth every ache, every risk. And we weren't going to let Jamur Hede stand in our way.

We continued driving for a while, watching the sleepy little town slip away and trees gathering on both sides of the car. Carol and Deva were chatting happily in the back. Deva showed off a fabulous sapphire necklace that Marquis had recently gifted her. I smiled, glad things were going well between them. Marquis was a good guy, and Deva deserved one of the good ones.

"Almost there!” Beth said.

I knew if we kept going, we’d reach the almost-highway that led to a real highway not long after that. But before the highway was the motorcycle club. A place that attracted both motorcyclists driving through and motorcyclists from our town.

The car slowed, turning into a gravelly lot. The Steel Knife loomed ahead, its neon sign flickering like a beacon of trouble. The building itself was brick and low to the ground, with no windows, and the air of a place where bodies might pile up. We all fell silent for a moment, taking in the sight.

Beth parked the car, and the engine went quiet. We sat there, gathering ourselves for what was next. The Steel Knife wasn't just any dive, it was the kind of place that chewed up the weak and spit them out without a second thought.

"What’s the plan here?” I asked. "Just find him and hope he plays nice? Admits it all and lets us walk away?”

Deva leaned forward. "Or we go in hard, throwing spells in every direction… take them all out and demand answers.”

We all laughed, but it was Beth who answered. "No. We see if he’ll be reasonable, and if he won’t, we do what we have to do to get the information we need.”

It seemed like a good plan. "Let’s just hope the biker werewolf is nicer than we imagine.”

No one agreed with me, which I took to be a bad sign. They knew more about this man’s reputation than I did. I took a deep breath and slowly released it, trying to remain calm.

"Ready?" Beth asked, her hand resting on the key.

"Ready as I'll ever be," Carol answered.

"Let's do this."

We stepped onto the gravel, our shoes crunching softly in the quiet of morning. Motorcycles lined the edges of the lot, gleaming under the light of the sun. They looked menacing somehow, like steel sentinels guarding the entrance to a world we didn't belong to.

"Quite the welcome party." Carol eyed the bikes.

"Definitely not here for a knitting circle." I tried to match her lightness.

Carol patted her sweater, the bright pattern on it almost glowing against the morning sky. "I brought some spells, just in case things get hairy."

"Me too,” Deva said. "Both peaceful, and not so peaceful, spells.”

"Good thinking." Beth nodded her approval as she locked the car with a beep.

We approached the entrance, the sound of raucous laughter and clinking glasses spilling out each time the door swung open. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cigarette smoke. It was like walking into a cloud, and not the fluffy, white kind.

"Remember, just act natural," Beth reminded us as she pulled the door open.

"Natural. Right," I muttered.

The door closed behind us with a thud, sealing us inside. It took a second for my eyes to adjust, but when they did, I realized everyone was staring. The place fell silent, except for the jukebox that was oblivious to our arrival, and continued its twangy serenade.

We just stood there, frozen for a minute, before Beth gave a little wave and strode in. There were a few narrowed eyes, but for the most part, everyone went back to what they were doing. We hurried up to Beth, deciding that she was probably in the right just to act like we belonged here.

"Let's find a spot and wait."

We edged our way around a pool table where the clack of billiard balls punctuated the low hum of conversation. The dim light did little to hide the worn felt on the table or the grim determination on the players' faces. Across the room, a group huddled in a dark corner, their heads close together over drinks.

I wondered which man was the one we were looking for. Honestly, any of them could have been a violent werewolf. They had the look… and the smell.

"Watch out," Carol murmured as a man staggered toward us, a sloppy grin plastered across his face.

"Hey there, ladies," he slurred, zeroing in on Carol with bleary eyes.

"Hello." Carol stepped back and attempted a polite smile as she subtly reached into her sweater pocket.

"Whatcha doin' in a place like this?" He tried to drape an arm around Carol's shoulder.

"Looking for someone." Beth stepped between them.

"Maybe I can help," he insisted, but his attention never left Carol. He leaned in closer, invading her personal space.

"Thanks, but no thanks." Carol ducked away from his grasp.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that." He reached for her again with clumsy persistence.

"Really, we're fine." Hopefully he'd take the hint without further incident.

Carol's fingers twitched, a small movement but deliberate. A flick and something tumbled to the floor, a sachet or charm, maybe. It popped and smoked for an instant.

"Ugh, what is that smell?" the man recoiled, his face scrunching in disgust.

Carol didn’t miss a beat. "Nature's perfume," she deadpanned.

He gagged, backpedaling fast. "You smell awful, " He choked out the words between heaves, then turned and bolted through the crowd.

It was impossible not to laugh, but I tried to hide my smile behind my hand. My gaze went to Deva and Beth, and they were both grinning too. I wondered if that was one of the non-violent spells they’d decided to bring with them. Either way, I had to say it was effective.

We made our way to the bar, navigating through the dimly lit room with caution. The scent of stale beer and smoke clung to everything, stifling after the crisp morning air outside.

The bartender was cleaning a glass, eyeing us as we approached. "Can I help you ladies?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yes, we're looking for Broth Riversteel," Beth stated directly, her tone leaving no room for interpretation that we were anything but serious.

The bartender paused, setting the glass down. "Who's asking?"

"Beth Ari," she replied just as plainly.

"You a cop, Beth?” he asked, eyes flashing with anger.

Three men at the bar top near us suddenly went silent, and their eyes locked on us. I swallowed around the lump in my throat, praying that these women had the right kind of spell to deal with the situation we’d found ourselves in. If not, we were in trouble.

"He asked you a question,” a man with an eye patch growled, and the music from the jukebox seemed to swell.

"We aren’t cops,” Beth told them, her voice only shaking a little.

"I don’t believe you,” the man with the eye patch said, getting up from his stool and taking a step closer to us, his two big friends right behind him.

Deva pulled a bag out of her pocket and set in on the bar top. It was a baggie filled with cookies. "Would cops have special cookies on them?”

Eye patch leaned in and snatched the bag, opening it and sniffing it before letting the other men sniff it too. Then, they all pulled out a cookie each. "I’ll be the judge of these special cookies,” he said, glaring with his one good eye.

The three men started eating them, and I instantly knew they liked Deva’s cookies by the way their faces relaxed. But I also knew that these cookies had to be special in a way far different from the way the men expected, and I wasn’t wrong. All three began to smile, goofy grins twisting their faces into far less dangerous looking ones.

"I love this song!” Eye patch said, starting to swing his hips.

"Me too,” one of the burly men said.

Suddenly, all three of them were dancing, but not regular dancing. They were dancing like kids wanting to be swan princesses, swinging their hips in exaggerated movements, spreading their arms above them and around, even tiptoeing between tables.

"Whoa,” the bartender said. "That’s some strong stuff.”

Deva grinned. "You have no idea.”

He gave her a long look, then nodded slowly. "Wait here. I’ll get Broth." He turned and disappeared into the back, leaving us standing awkwardly at the bar.

I exchanged a glance with Carol, sensing her fingers still lingering near the pockets of her sweater. I tensed, I guess she was right to still be cautious, we were hardly out of this yet. We waited in silence, the buzz of the bar's patrons filling the void left by the bartender's absence. Trying desperately to not make eye contact with anyone, but unable to help looking away from the three men who continued to prance about the room.