Magic Breaks

4

THE COLD AIR burned my lungs. Around me trees crowded the road. Plants loved magic; it spurred their growth like supercharged Miracle-Gro, and the trees around us looked decades old, their limbs braiding into a single mass of branches.

My muscles felt warm and loose under my clothes. We’d been running for nine minutes and the shapeshifters on all sides of me seemed no worse for wear. For them, this was jogging pace. For me it was a fast run.

In my mind I killed Hugh d’Ambray for the fourth time. Fantasy wasn’t as satisfying as the real thing, but thinking about sliding Slayer into his chest made me run faster.

The timing couldn’t have been worse. We were at less than half strength and Curran was gone. Hugh was a planner. He never left things to chance. Either he had a really good intelligence source within the Pack, which would be in line with his highly placed mole on the Pack Council, or he’d engineered this whole thing, which meant Gene and his Iberian wolves were in Hugh’s pocket and Curran had walked into a trap. Fear squirmed through me. I picked up speed. The shapeshifters accelerated with me.

Curran could handle himself. He wasn’t exactly a shrinking violet. If they were dumb enough to try to trap him, he’d come home to me covered in their blood.

Behind me an undead mind flickered into range. This one wasn’t loose. Someone was piloting it. Another vampiric mind joined the first. Then another. An escort to the border. How thoughtful of the People.

The vampires drew closer. I glanced over my shoulder and saw them, three nightmarish shapes, loping in a jerky but fast gait down the road.

I sprinted, squeezing every drop of speed out of my legs. The road turned and I saw the Mt. Paran Sinkhole, a football-field-sized gap like a giant’s mouth half-open in the ground. The sinkhole had been born during a strong magic wave, and Northside’s wealth made sure that a single-lane bridge had been built over it almost overnight. The moonlight bathed the stone railing and the six shapeshifters waiting on the bridge with three familiar-looking Jeeps.

One shapeshifter stood in front of the others. His jacket was off. He leaned forward, his dark eyes fixed on the vampires behind us with a cold predatory expression, his muscular body coiled like a compressed spring. I used to call Derek “boy wonder,” but “boy” no longer fit. He was nothing but hard muscle wrapping bones connected with sinew. His body might have been nineteen, but his eyes under the dark eyebrows were thirty-five. Well, I did tell Jim to put someone solid in charge of the backup unit.

A second shapeshifter perched on the bridge’s stone railing to the right of Derek. The light of the moon slid over his face. The bane of my existence. Figured.

Derek and Ascanio. As long as they were separated by the length of a football field, they got along just fine. Getting them into close proximity to each other was like bringing a lit match into a house full of gas fumes. It’s a wonder the bridge didn’t explode under the pressure.

The distance between us and the vampires shrank. The undead were gaining. The air turned to fire inside my throat. A moment and we pounded onto the bridge. A white line drawn in chalk crossed the stone—the border. We cleared it.

The leading bloodsucker was so close, if we stopped it would be on us.

Derek shot past us like a bullet out of a gun.

I glanced over my shoulder. The vamp stepped over the chalk line. Derek leaped and kicked the undead. His foot connected with the vampire’s head. The impact knocked the abomination back twenty feet. It fell, sprang back up, froze, and trotted back to the rest of the living corpses waiting for it on the sidewalk.

I kept moving past the line of shapeshifters, slowing to a walk. I really wanted to bend over but I was on display, so I forced my body to remain upright. Breathing is like riding a bicycle. You never forget how to do it, and eventually my body remembered that it too could breathe instead of biting the air and swallowing it down in great big gulps. I walked on, past vehicles, until the bulk of the Jeeps hid us from the bloodsuckers’ view. The rest of the group followed me.

My mind finally processed what had happened at the Conclave. Hugh d’Ambray had come for me. Everyone associated with me had just acquired a big target on their chest. He would kill them one by one or a dozen at a time, whatever it took. My memory replayed Hugh’s voice. “It’s his will. Let it happen.” My father had targeted the shapeshifters before, but never so openly. Roland knew I was here, and he’d sent Hugh to break the Pack’s back and pry me loose while he was at it. The thing I’d been dreading had come to pass. My friends would die because of me.

Acknowledging it was like dunking my head into a bucket of cold water.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. In my plans Curran was always with me. In my plans we stood together, we fought together, and we did it on our terms. Instead Curran had disappeared into some Appalachian wilderness, and I was stuck here, with a murder on my hands and fifteen hundred people to keep alive. I was the Consort. I had a job to do. I had to quash this war.

I would have to take it one step at a time. Step one: find the killer.

Jim matched his stride to mine. “What the hell was that back there? You almost let him goad you into walking right back to him.”

“I need you to find Curran. Hugh hates him and he likely knows exactly where Curran is. Best-case scenario, Gene is keeping him away from here. Worst case, it’s a trap.”

Jim bent toward me. His gaze met mine. “Hey. Look at me.”

I looked.

“Curran will be fine. He’s got this. They would have to have sent an army to North Carolina in order to bring him down. I have people watching Gene’s territory. Nobody came in or out.”

That’s right. Jim would have someone watching them.

“Hugh will try to fuck with your head. Don’t let him. Do your job. You’ve got fifteen hundred people depending on you.”

“Awesome pep talk.”

“If you want a pep talk, get yourself a cheerleader. Did you recognize the crusader with Hugh?”

“Yes.” I’d recognized Nick, alright. I saw him shoot Desandra.

“Why did we run?” a man demanded behind me.

I stopped and pivoted on my foot to face him.

It was one of Jennifer’s bodyguards. In his early twenties, he was large, with a head of wild blond hair, athletic. His eyes shone yellow, catching the moonlight. His lips trembled, baring his teeth. Right, all the lights are on and he’s exhaling aggression with every breath. Adrenaline junkie. Bad choice for a bodyguard.

“We had the numbers on them. We could’ve taken them.”

“Make him sit,” I told Jennifer. “Or I will and he won’t like it.”

Jennifer’s expression was blank.

“We look like fucking cowards,” the blond snarled. “We should’ve . . .”

Desandra shot forward, grabbed the blond by his throat, and slammed him on the stone surface of the bridge. His back slapped the rock. Desandra’s voice was a ragged snarl. “Do not question the Consort! Do not shame your clan in front of your alpha!”

The blond gasped, trying to breathe.

One does nothing, the other does double. I didn’t know who was worse.

Desandra pulled the blond up to his feet and stared in his eyes, her face an inch from his. “Look at me.”

The man stared at her, his face shocked.

“Jennifer is lenient. Search my face; do you think I’m lenient?”

The blond swallowed. “No, Beta.”

“Do you want me to demonstrate that I’m not lenient?”

“No, Beta.”

“When you earn the right to question the Consort, you can speak. Until then, when she gives you an order, you shut your mouth and obey, or I’ll rip out your tongue. I had it done to me once and it takes six months to grow back. Are we clear?”

The blond nodded.

“Enough,” Jennifer said.

Desandra opened her hand and ducked her head at me. “Our apologies, Consort.”

“I don’t need you to apologize for me,” Jennifer said. “Watch yourself.”

Desandra’s spine went rigid for half a breath, then relaxed so fast I would’ve missed it if I wasn’t looking for it. She shrugged, looked down, and purred. “I’m sorry, Alpha.”

I didn’t have time for their games. “We have less than eighteen hours until Hugh d’Ambray and the People attack the Keep. Once war starts, it will be difficult to stop.”

The People and the Pack had never seen eye to eye, and both sides had plenty of idiots who thought they had something to prove.

Desandra shrugged off her jacket and turned her back to a male wolf. He pulled a knife out and sliced her back open. She bared her teeth for a tiny second. The bullet was probably still in her body.

“We have to prevent the war,” I said. “Mulradin’s body, thoughts?”

“The killer’s a shapeshifter,” Jim said. “Not a bear. They tend to crush. The body had punctures consistent with canine or feline teeth.”

“I agree.” I looked at Jennifer. I needed a consensus, because none of them would like what I was about to say. “What do you think?”

“It’s possible that it was a shapeshifter,” Jennifer said. “Someone outside the Pack. I can’t imagine any of our people doing it.”

“I got a good whiff of the body. It’s a wolf,” Desandra said. “One of ours.”

“You’re lying!” Jennifer spat.

Desandra shrugged. “Why would I lie? I recognize the scent. I smelled it before a couple of times, at the Keep and at the clan house. It’s not someone who is at the Keep often, but I know the scent and it’s one of ours.”

Anger and hate clawed at each other on Jennifer’s face. “Why are you doing this? What could you possibly gain from this?”

“I’m telling the truth,” Desandra said.

“This is one of your schemes, isn’t it? Not this time.”

The three wolves escorting Jennifer and the wolf render next to me simultaneously decided to look everywhere except at the two women. Behind them, Derek also pretended that nothing was happening. Ascanio rolled his eyes.

“Not this bloody time, do you hear me?” Jennifer’s voice spiked, picking up notes of hysteria. “No more plots, Desandra. No more Desandra Show.”

And Jennifer had just lost it in public. Awesome. Because that was what we really needed, to have this pissing match right this second in front of witnesses.

“Table it,” I said. “Back to Mulradin’s body.”

“Desandra’s right,” Robert said, his voice cold and precise.

We all turned to the alpha of the rats. He’d been so quiet, I had forgotten he was there.

“It’s a wolf,” he said. “I didn’t get a scent because the odor of blood was too thick, but I was close enough to see the wounds in detail. Mulradin had fought back. He must’ve grabbed at his attacker, because I saw fur stuck to his bloody hands. Wolf fur.”

Jennifer glared at him. It was like flicking a match at a glacier. Robert remained unperturbed.

“We need to find the killer before the deadline is up,” I said before she could freak out again. If we had the killer in custody, there was still a chance to defuse the situation.

“If he or she still lives,” Jim said.

Good point. If I were Hugh, I’d kill this wolf to make sure we couldn’t turn him or her over.

“And should we find this person, what will happen?” Robert said.

The question was asked in a mild tone, but I got the feeling a lot rode on how I answered.

“If the killer is apprehended, an investigation will be conducted within the Pack,” I said.

“And if found guilty?” Robert persisted.

“Robert, what are you really asking?”

Robert paused. “I’m asking about custody.”

“I have no intention of giving the People one of our Pack members for their burn-a-shapeshifter-alive party,” I said. “We don’t roll over when they stomp their feet. But we need to find whoever is responsible. We can’t act until we know what happened.”

“We need to examine the crime scene,” Jim said. “The body didn’t smell of wolfsbane.”

Wolfsbane was used to obscure the scent trail. Once a shapeshifter smelled it, even the best tracker would dissolve into sneezing fits. No wolfsbane meant a slight possibility that somewhere an intact crime scene waited for us and shapeshifters could read its scents like an open book.

“We don’t even know a crime scene exists,” Robert said. “They could’ve set it on fire.”

“No, it exists,” Barabas said.

“D’Ambray likes games,” Derek said. “He wants us to play.”

If there was a crime scene, where could it be? The blood on Mulradin’s body was fresh. “Desandra? Did you get an idea of how long he’s been dead?”

“I’d say less than two hours,” she said.

Jim nodded. “That sounds about right, but it would put Mulradin in the Casino at the time of death.”

My nose had six million olfactory receptors. A wolf’s nose had two hundred and eighty million. If Desandra said he had been dead a couple of hours, I was inclined to believe her, but there was no way a shapeshifter had walked into the Casino, murdered Mulradin, and walked out. I turned to Jim. “Are you sure he was in the Casino?”

“Yes,” Jim said. “Ghastek and Mulradin switch off supervising, so that one of them is at the Casino at all times. Ghastek was at the Conclave, so Mulradin had the evening shift. He wouldn’t have left the Casino.”

“Not necessarily,” Robert said quietly.

Jim turned to him.

“Two weeks ago I got a report that one of my people saw him outside when he was supposed to be on call,” the wererat said.

“Where?” I asked.

“The Warren,” Robert said. “My scout saw Mulradin go into a building, but was unable to follow up because he had a different objective that night.”

“And were you planning on sharing that with the class?” Jim asked.

“There are a number of things the class chose not to share with us,” Robert said.

Clearly there was some tension there. “Which building in the Warren?” I asked.

“The scout didn’t specify.”

That narrowed it down about as much as pointing out which of the haystacks had the needle hidden in it. When magic wrecked Atlanta, it had stomped on the Warren, crushing entire streets. Anyone who could have moved, did. Now the Warren consisted of slums, populated by the destitute, criminals, and street kids, and it was huge.

“Can we ask the scout to narrow it down?” I asked.

Robert looked slightly uncomfortable. “Yes. But he’s at an observation post.”

“Where?” Please don’t say in the People’s territory.

“The People’s territory.”

This was not my night.

“Phone line?” I asked.

Robert shook his head.

Of course. The phone probably wouldn’t have worked with the magic up anyway. “I’ll need a small strike team to go in with me to find the observation post.”

“No,” Jim said. “You can’t go.”

“Overruled,” I told him.

“Kate!”

“Last time I checked I was in charge. Would you like to challenge me to settle this?”

Jim scowled at me.

“Very scary, but I’m still in charge. Robert, where is the observation post?”

“On Centennial Drive.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. “On Centennial Drive? Across from the Casino?”

Robert nodded.

Great. Sneak into the People’s territory, while Hugh has every vampire in Atlanta looking for anything with a tail or a saber, find a wererat who wanted to stay hidden, which was pretty much impossible, and then hightail it over to the Warren. Piece of cake. Let me just get my invisibility cloak and a teleportation device . . .

“With all due respect, Consort, you’ll never find the observation post,” Robert said. “And even if you did, my scout won’t speak to you.”

“Will you come with me?”

Robert nodded. “Yes.”

“We have enough people to get you there,” Barabas said. “We could go in force.”

“No. The idea is to sneak in and out. If we go in with a large group, we’ll fail. First, we’ll be more conspicuous. We might as well hook ourselves up with a neon sign that says ‘Target here. Bite to kill.’ Second, if we bring the numbers, they’ll view it as an invasion of their territory. Third, if we do encounter any vampires, the plan will be to run and hide to minimize any damage, not fight them off. No, we go in with a small group and whoever comes with us will keep their human skins on.”

“That bastard planned this whole thing,” Jim said. “He was gloating. There will be a trap at the crime scene.”

“Most likely. Which is why I have to go.” Of all of us, I had the best chances of surviving a meeting with Hugh and getting our people away alive.

“You seem very sure of that,” Jennifer said. “Maybe this whole thing was a coincidence. This d’Ambray came down to inspect the People, looked for the man in charge, couldn’t find him, and discovered the murder.”

Oh shut up. “Whatever his motivations are, we must get to the crime scene. This matter isn’t up for discussion.” I raised my foot and deliberately stomped on the bridge. “This is my foot. I put it down. Deal with it.”

They all looked at me.

“No more objections. Just help me get there and get out alive.”

“I’ll come,” Jim said.

“I need you to initiate the siege protocol.” Under siege protocol, every shapeshifter in the city would be pulled into the Keep. Those in the nearest towns would be advised to evacuate to the Wood, a huge forest up north.

“Barabas can do it.”

Curran was gone, I was gone, and now Jim would be gone. How about no? How about for once in their lives, the Pack just did what I told it to do? “The Pack Council might need someone with direct knowledge of the incident and experience with running things.” And I didn’t want Jennifer to be the sole voice reporting what had happened.

Jim looked at me. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He would’ve loved nothing more than to drag me back to the Keep and surround me with rings of combat shapeshifters, but Hugh changed everything. I was the Pack’s best hope against Hugh. He was an enemy I was uniquely equipped to fight. Curran had put his life on the line for the Pack dozens of times. It was my turn. If I didn’t come back, someone had to hold the Pack together. Jim would be that someone, because he was the best man for the job and he was pissed as hell because of it.

“You’re taking Robert,” he said, his voice very calm. “Take Derek with you, too.”

I opened my mouth to say no and stopped. I had no clue where Robert’s loyalties lay, but Derek would die for me. He was almost twenty, he’d had combat training since he was sixteen, and he’d been through more shit than most people could handle in their lifetime. Objecting to him because I still thought of him as a kid and didn’t want to see him hurt would just humiliate both of us.

“Are you in?” I asked.

Derek looked mildly offended.

Right. How dare I ask? Teenage werewolves and their touchy feelings.

I turned to the rest of them. “We need one more.”

There was a reason why everyone from SWAT to the Marines and SEALs used four-man fire teams. They were fast, maneuverable, they let you cover all four sides, and in our case, having four people would make sneaking into the People’s territory much easier. We could break into pairs. A couple walking at night in Atlanta wouldn’t immediately attract attention. Three or four people together would draw the eye.

Myles, the wolf render, stepped forward. Perfect.

“No.” Jennifer narrowed her eyes. “Take Desandra with you.”

Seriously? She wasn’t even trying now. I was an amateur when it came to Pack politics, but this was just blatantly obvious. If I insisted on Myles, I’d insult Desandra. If Desandra backed out, she’d lose face.

Jim and Robert looked at each other.

“This is a dangerous mission and Clan Wolf wants to assist the Consort,” Jennifer said. “We’re still the largest in the Pack, and as the alpha present at the Conclave I feel our clan must do everything in its power to help. Desandra knows the scent and she’s an excellent fighter.”

“You’re sending her off hoping she’ll die and for what, so you can clutch onto power for a couple of extra days?” Jim said.

Jennifer raised her chin. “You have something to say, cat, say it.”

“I just did,” Jim told her.

If I didn’t cut this off right now, they would bicker all night. “Enough. Desandra, are you up to it?”

Desandra looked like she’d rather suck on some rotten lemons. “I’d be honored, Consort.”

“Great.” Now I had two wolves in my fun party. My wolf avoidance strategy had so far proved to be an epic fail. “We’ll take the northern evacuation route.”

We’d planned both north and south escape routes, but the northern one ran right past a stable. I’d need a horse to keep up with the shapeshifters. Good that I had already rented one.

“Remember the way d’Ambray was howling about killing anyone caught in the People’s territory?” Jim asked. “For this shit to happen, d’Ambray must’ve made arrangements with the cops. I don’t know if he bribed them, blackmailed them, or what, but he’s done something. Steer clear of the Paranormal Activity Division.”

“Will do,” I said.

“Who’s got the treasure chest?” Desandra asked.

Sage, the other render, went to the left Jeep and popped the hatchback. An assortment of weapons looked back at us: swords, knives, and batons. Nothing elaborate, just simple, functional tools to speed the journey to the afterlife. Derek looked at the smorgasbord for a long moment and fished out a tactical tomahawk. Solid black and about eighteen inches long, it had a six-inch blade on one side of the axe head and a sharp spike on the other. Desandra pulled out a two-foot-long solid metal mace. Its weighted head sported eight sharp flanges. I glanced at Robert.

He smiled. “I’m good. I retrieved my toys from my Jeep before we left.”

I turned to Barabas. “Can I have a word before we go?”

“Of course.” He walked off with me. I put a hundred yards between us and the rest of the shapeshifters, made sure my back was to them, and said, “Barabas, before you leave the city, I need you to stop at a courier and send a few messages. Call in every favor we have with the city and whatever goodwill we have with law enforcement. Use anything we’ve been saving for a rainy day, because the hurricane is here. Please call Evdokia or one of her kids. Tell her what happened.”

Evdokia was one of the prominent witches in the Atlanta Covens and one of the few people who knew my background. The Covens would fight Roland to the end, and letting them know Hugh was on the warpath would buy them time to prepare.

“Will do.”

“As soon as you get to the Keep, please put together a combat team and send it into North Carolina to find Curran. Keep it quiet. We don’t need a panic.”

Barabas nodded.

“Jim will want to send one, but I want you to oversee it. Use renders, use combat people, the best you can get without leaving us too vulnerable. I don’t care if they have to take the mountains apart rock by rock. They need to find the Beast Lord and they need to do it fast.”

“I understand. What about the Pack Council?”

“They are Jim’s problem. If you can, try to stall them. Delay any decision making until tomorrow. We should be back by morning. If I don’t check in by noon, I am dead and you’re on your own.”

“Understood.”

“Find him, Barabas.”

“Kate, I will. I promise you, I will.”

“Also, please tell Jezebel to take Julie out of the city. She’ll need backup, because Julie is good at escaping. If Hugh takes Atlanta, Julie can’t be here. He will use her and make her into something terrible.”

“He won’t take Atlanta,” Barabas said.

“I know. Please do this for me.”

“Of course. Good luck.”

“Thank you. We’ll need it.”

We went back to the cars. Jim’s face looked grim. “For the record, I’m sick of being left behind,” he said.

“For the record, I’m sick of Hugh being alive.”

The weremongoose was waving at our people. “We’re moving out.”

Jim paused. “Don’t get yourself killed and don’t make me come and rescue your ass.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.”

Jim growled under his breath and went to the Jeep.

“Jim!” I called, too loud.

He turned.

I waited a second to make sure I had everyone’s attention. “If I’m not back by tomorrow evening and the Beast Lord is still gone, you have my blessing.”

Jim blinked. His mouth opened. “Understood, Alpha.”

Someone would have to run the Pack. He had done it before and if I didn’t come back, he would do it again, and now I had a dozen witnesses who would support his right to do it.

Jennifer shook her head. She and her bodyguards got into their vehicle. The dark-haired man who had cut Desandra’s back open lingered. Desandra stepped close to him. “Go with our alpha. When you get to the Keep, send someone to Orhan and Fatima. And if Jennifer tries to do something stupid, delay her as much as you can. Get George to help you.”

So she had gone to see the retired alpha couple.

The man nodded and took off.

We turned and trotted down the bridge, hidden from the vampires’ view by the cars. The shapeshifters began to chant, cajoling the Jeeps’ enchanted water engines into life.

“Orhan and Fatima?” Robert asked.

“Mm-hm,” Desandra said. “I have their blessing to take over the clan. Can you believe that bitch threw me under the bus?”

• • •

WE FINISHED CROSSING the bridge and jogged another quarter mile along the forested road, then turned off the barely visible trail to the left. Trees choked the path, their roots thrusting across the dirt, all but invisible in the night shadows. Perfect. Maybe I’d trip, break my neck, and save Hugh the trouble of hunting me down.

“It’s not that Jennifer shoved me off the cliff,” Desandra said. “I understand. It’s that she was so ham-fisted about it. The woman has been an alpha now for what, six months on her own? It’s fair to expect some subtlety.”

“When did you go to see Orhan and Fatima?” Robert asked.

“A few days ago,” Desandra said.

“They don’t want to be involved in the Pack’s operations,” Robert said. “They’ve made it abundantly clear. An alpha who steps down surrenders all right to meddle with their clan. You’ve put them into a difficult position.”

“They invited me to meet with them. I didn’t ask. You want to know why Orhan and Fatima sent for me?” Desandra pointed at me, then at Robert in turn. “Alpha, alpha . . .” She pointed at herself with her thumb. “Beta. One of these things is not like the other. Jennifer should be here instead of riding with her bodyguards in a comfy car. That’s why.”

“I’m not an alpha,” Derek said.

“You’re like Curran’s baby brother.” Desandra waved her hand. “You don’t count. So no, I didn’t break the rules and go and bother Orhan and Fatima on my own. Give me some credit.”

Robert tried his best to look quietly unapproachable. His best was pretty good, but it didn’t stop me.

“So, Robert, how does that foot taste?”

Robert looked at me, clearly unsure how to react.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Desandra said. “About Hugh having planned all this. You’re right.”

She shrugged the jacket off her shoulder and turned her back to us. A bright red bullet wound, still wet, marked the skin above her shoulder blade. The bullet must’ve penetrated from the front and torn straight through the top of her chest to the back. A dark gray stain bordered the wound. She’d been shot with a silver round. As the toxic bullet passed through the body, the Lyc-V in the surrounding tissues died. When the other wolf had cut her back, she must’ve bled gray.

Nobody carried around silver bullets unless they meant to fight shapeshifters. Silver was too expensive and there were better and more accurate rounds available.

The eardrum-bursting roar of enchanted water engines announced the Pack vehicles passing along the road behind us. We kept moving.

The last echoes of the engines faded.

“Where are we going?” Desandra asked.

“We’re going to Blue Ribbon Stables,” I said. “It’s the closest place to rent a horse.”

“Why?” Desandra asked.

“Because I can’t keep up with you on foot,” I said.

“And she runs like a rhino,” Derek added. “You can hear her a mile away.”

Traitor. “I thought you had my back?”

“I do,” Derek said. “The rhino running is nice. Makes it easy to keep track of you. If I ever lose you, I just have to listen and there you are.”

“Yes,” Desandra agreed. “It’s convenient.”

I laughed.

“Are you always this casual?” Robert asked.

“Derek and I worked together for a long time,” I told him. “He’s allowed some leeway.”

“What about Desandra?”

“She only bothers with protocol when she wants something. The rest of the time it’s lewd jokes and descriptions of plums.”

Desandra snickered.

Robert’s eyebrows crept up. “Plums?”

I waved my hand. “Don’t ask.”

Ten minutes later the wooded path spat us out into Troll’s Ferry Road, and fifteen minutes later we stopped next to the fence near the gate leading to Blue Ribbon Stables. Half an hour gone. We didn’t have much time.

“You better go in by yourself,” Desandra said. “Or they might get scared that Derek and I intend to blow their house down.”

“If there is an issue,” Robert said, “we’re only a few feet away.”

I heard a low guttural sound and I realized it was Derek laughing. Well, at least his sense of humor was coming back. Thank the Universe for small favors.

I jogged to the door and knocked. The door swung open and an elderly black man leveled a crossbow at me. I held up my hands. “Mr. Walton? I need a horse. I called you yesterday and asked you to hold one for me.”

Mr. Walton squinted at me. “About that . . .”

“Yes?”

“I’ve done rented them all.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. “You said you had one and would hold it for me. I sent one of my people here and he told me you took the money.”

“I did say that and I did take it. But you know. Money is a funny thing. The more of it, the prettier it looks. You said you might need a horse and it wasn’t a sure thing.”

Argh.

“You want a refund?”

“I want a horse.”

“I’m all out of horses for this week, but I’ve got a mammoth jenny.”

“A what?”

“Come, I’ll show you.”

He led me to the stable. Inside in the third stall something large moved. It looked like a horse, about sixteen hands or so tall. The man raised a feylantern. A long face with two-foot-long ears looked at me with big blue eyes. A donkey, except it stood about eight feet tall, hoof to ear. Big white spots painted its black shaggy hide.

“What is this?”

“That right there is a mammoth jenny. A female American Mammoth donkey.”

“Is she magic?”

“Nahh. They developed them in the early twentieth century, primarily for mule breeding. She’s a good mount. Good on a trail. She’ll give you a twenty-mile-per-hour gallop in a pinch, but not for long. One thing, though. Most of her kind are sweet. She’s what we call in the business a freak of nature. Smart, stubborn, and ornery.”

“What’s her name?”

“Cuddles.”

Perfect. “I’ll take her.”

The moment I walked Cuddles out of her stall, she turned to face me, stood erect, and put her ears forward. Okay. When a horse was ready to be aggressive, she typically put her ears back. This, I didn’t know. Donkeys were a new territory for me.

“What do the ears mean?”

Mr. Walton shrugged. “Means she isn’t sure about you. Donkeys are stoic animals. They’re not horses with long ears, you know.”

Okay. If Cuddles were a horse, I’d wave the lead at her to make her take a step back. In horse dominance games, whoever moved first lost face. Something told me it wouldn’t work here. “Do you have any carrots?”

Mr. Walton crossed the stable to the front and brought me a large carrot.

“Thanks.” I took one, bit into the top, and made loud chewing noises. “Mmm, yummy carrot.”

Cuddles opened her eyes a little wider.

“Mmm, delicious.”

Cuddles took a step forward. I turned sideways and tried to chew louder. Cuddles clopped toward me and nudged my shoulder with her nose. I held the carrot in front of her and petted her cheek. She ate the carrot and looked at me.

“Very nice,” Mr. Walton approved. “You’re a donkey whisperer.”

“You got more carrots?”

Two minutes later I packed three pounds of carrots into Cuddles’s saddlebags. He let me have them for free “on account of Cuddles isn’t a horse and I did rent your mare out from under you.” If a herd of giant donkeys crossed our path and needed to be subdued, I had it covered.

I rode out of the stables on top of an eight-foot-tall donkey that looked like she had robbed a Holstein cow and was now wearing the stolen clothes. Robert gaped at me. Desandra made a weird face: her right eyebrow crept up, her left went down, and her mouth got stuck somewhere between surprise and the beginning of the word “what.” Derek’s mouth opened and didn’t close until we came to a halt next to him.

“What the hell is this?” Desandra asked.

“This is Cuddles. She’s a mammoth donkey.”

Derek grinned, leaning on the fence. “Do you have any self-respect left?”

“Nope.”

“I think she’s cute.” Desandra reached out.

Cuddles promptly tried to bite her. Desandra jerked her hand away and bared her teeth. “Donkey, you don’t know who you’re messing with. I’ll eat you for breakfast.”

“Where to now?” I asked.

“Hold on,” Robert said. “I’m still . . . coming to terms with your mode of transportation.”

“Take your time.” I nudged Cuddles, turning her to give him a better view. Cuddles flicked her ears, lifted her feet, and pranced. Oh dear God.

Derek put his head down on the fence and made a moaning noise. Desandra chortled.

“Okay,” Robert said. “I think I’ve absorbed. I am ready for strategy planning now. Could you please stop prancing?”

“She isn’t done.”

It took another thirty seconds and a carrot to get Cuddles under control.

“How do we get into the territory without being killed?” I asked.

“We can try the northwest approach,” Robert said. “It’s more lightly patrolled. But with the current state of things, they likely doubled the security. They’ll be looking for us.”

That was the understatement of the century.

“I could go alone,” Robert offered.

“If they find you, we’ll never find your scout or the crime scene,” Desandra said.

He spared her a look. “They won’t find me.”

Sure, they won’t. Pointing out that his pride was getting the better of him wouldn’t be politic. I had to say something neutral.

“Accidents happen.” Kate Daniels, Master of Diplomacy.

“We can come in on one of their usual patrol routes,” Derek said.

We turned to him.

“They know our patrol routes,” the boy wonder said. “So we shift them when there’s an emergency. They’ll likely do the same, leaving the original route open.”

“Likely?” Desandra shook her head.

“Likely is what we have,” Robert said.

“I don’t like it,” Desandra said. “I don’t know about you, but I have two babies to go home to. We could be walking right into their patrol.”

“We won’t,” I said.

“What makes you so sure?” Robert asked.

“We have a real-life vampire detector with us,” Derek said.

It was my turn to be looked at.

“You keep staring, I’ll have to do a dance or something.”

“You can sense vampires?” Robert asked.

“Yes.”

“From how far away?” the alpha rat asked.

“From far enough to give us time to hide.”

“Okay,” Robert said. “Then I vote for the patrol route.”

Desandra surveyed me as if she had met me for the first time. “What other fun things can you do?”

I winked at her. “Stick with me and you might find out.”

“We can go through the quarantine zone,” Derek said. “Even bloodsuckers stay out of there.”

“There’s probably a reason for that,” Desandra said.

“Fortune favors the brave,” I told her. It also kills the stupid, but I decided to keep that fact to myself. “Come on. We need to hurry.”