Poor old Dugan had also lost Finnegan’s Wake, his prized bar across the street. When the sentence was levied, she could only guess that he’d probably put up a pitiful fuss from Hell. Taking material goods from Dugan was worse than having him drawn and quartered. Same held true of Baron Geoff Montague, Vampire extraordinaire. Word on the streets was that he’d paid a hefty tax for his troubles, enough to almost cost him a premier blood club.
Satisfied that justice had prevailed, Sasha jumped into the jeep, curious that Hunter had yielded the driver’s side. “So, where to first?” she said with a smile. “The diner to catch up with the team, or Ethan’s… although I seriously don’t want to talk to Ethan until he calms down and we have more answers for him.”
“Would you listen to yourself?” Hunter said, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Your mood… is… odd.”
Sasha sat back in her seat, fighting not to pout. She kept her hands on the wheel and then fished under the visor for the keys. “Odd.”
“Your voice is… singsong, happy. You just heard that our allies are panicked, your squad is trying to locate you… and you act like we haven’t a care in the world. Odd.” Hunter turned and stared at her. “You almost sound like you’re high, or something… but I was with you the entire time and know you didn’t ingest anything that could have been spiked.”
“Whoa…” Sasha sat back quickly and then leaned forward so fast that she almost bumped her nose on the rearview mirror as she tried to study her own gaze in it. “You’re right. My mind has been jumping all over the place… I feel almost giddy, you’re right… like I haven’t a care in the world.”
Hunter rubbed his palms down his face and then banged his head on the dashboard. “You do not want to know what I feel.”
“Oh, shit.”
He released a long, weary breath. “Yes. Precisely.”
“Then why don’t I feel that way if you feel that way?” She looked at him squarely and shrugged.
“To make me crazy,” he said flatly.
“Are you serious?”
Hunter closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest. “Sasha… believe me, it’s working.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just feel like I’ve gotta be on the move, gotta go hang out… do something other than be cooped up inside. It’s so nice out here, man… It’s summer!”
“You are not yourself… I am not myself. Two Phoenixes are dead from the same establishment that turned state’s evidence at the United Council of Entities trials. Sir Rodney confirmed there is dark magick afoot-it is in the sigils they cannot decipher. We are out of our depth, if we are so affected that we cannot even focus on following a warm lead.”
“Wow… yeah… you have a point,” she said, turning on the ignition. “But, hey, why didn’t you wanna drive?”
Hunter looked away, sending his gaze toward the Spanish moss-laden trees. “I can’t,” he admitted quietly.
Sasha cocked her head to the side and stared at him, her brows knit. Then slowly but surely she understood, covering her mouth with her hand. “Going from the gas to the brake would hurt that bad?” she asked in a shocked murmur.
He abruptly turned to stare at her, fury in his gaze. “Just shoot me.”
“Okay, guys, it’s on us this go-round,” Clarissa said, marshaling the team that was left around the diner table, and then setting down her cell phone very carefully, “Sasha won’t exactly tell me what’s going on with Ethan, or her, for that matter, but she admits that her mood and focus is all jacked up-Hunter is messed up, just like the two Shadows that left us to go God knows where. And, since it would be a death sentence to go busting into Vamp lairs looking for clues, despite the daylight factor… I say we start with the local scuttlebutt we can get from area covens, Voodoo practitioners, snake charmers, Tarot experts, and the like. If Fae archers are being sighted in frickin’ diners, then somebody has heard something. They always do, and if, by logical deduction, we all know that from our last trip down here, Vampires have the biggest axe to grind, we’re gonna need evidence-as well as a way to reverse whatever they’ve probably done to out the Fae.”
“I’m with you, ’Rissa,” Bradley said, folding his hands around his lukewarm cup of coffee. “But I think we need to let Sir Rodney know that his Fae community is in full view of the general human population.”
“True, but that’s really Sasha’s call, not ours. Either that, or we might have to leave that up to Ethan, because I haven’t the foggiest idea how to find Sir Rodney or the beginning of his yellow brick road, so to speak, that’s in the swamps.” Clarissa looked around the table, keeping her voice low and private. “We don’t even know how long we’ll be able to function until what’s affecting the supernaturals hits us.”
Fisher bumped Clarissa’s fist. “I, for one, am not voting for us going into the swamps without a full and stable Shadow Wolf escort. Who knows what the hell is out there this time?”
“Last time, something came through the demon doors and opened up a can of whoop ass on alpha-class wolf fighters-and they had the advantage of a full shape-shift. An M-16 is a good piece of artillery, but I’m with Fisher-it ain’t worth jack shit if your arm isn’t attached to your body.”
“So we take the nerd approach,” Winters said, smiling. “Go to the places where the worst that can happen is you get zapped by some bad juju, or maybe zombified… but I’d prefer that to a quick and painful death by dismemberment.”
“I hear you,” Woods said, knocking his coffee mug against Winters’s. “So let’s fan out-two-by-two detail. Put our ears to the ground and see what we come up with before the sun drops. Winters, you come with me and Fish.”
CHAPTER 7
Sasha held the cell phone tightly in her grip, listening to Clarissa’s urgent tone of voice. Hunter had been right-she was off her game, seriously so. But as her squad member thrust hard-to-ignore facts into her ear, Sasha felt her reasoning return.
“Have you told Ethan?” Sasha asked quickly, the moment Clarissa drew a breath. She waited, hearing what she already knew to be true-Clarissa hadn’t contacted him. Sasha pushed the mute button for a second and turned to Hunter, watching him draw in slow breaths. “Ten dollars says that’s why Ethan was blowing up my phone. He’s in town and had to see the glamour fading all around him.”
Hunter just nodded as she took the remainder of the information from Clarissa and then ended the call. Without waiting, she speed-dialed Ethan, and just listened, after announcing herself, while he filled her in through hysterical bursts.
“You’re going to have to tell your constituents something,” Sasha said. “There’s no other way. So get a missive to Sir Rodney that he, or one of his top advisors, or captain of the guards, or whoever, is gonna have to come tell these folks something.” She pulled the phone away from her ear when Ethan’s voice hit a decibel that made the hair on her arms stand up.
When the call ended, Sasha simply stared at the telephone for a moment. “That went well,” she said sarcastically.
Hunter had not said a word since they’d pulled over and parked. He was reclined in the seat, eyes closed, with his head leaning against the headrest.
“This thing is messing with my mind,” Sasha said, staring across the green field.
“Tell me about it,” Hunter muttered.
She shook her head, allowing the irritable comment to pass. whatever was going on with them personally wasn’t of paramount concern. The facts surrounding the deaths were worrying her mind like a dog worries a bone. Fact one-sorcery of some sort was involved… but probably not Fae, because of the iron gate thing the Pixie explained. Fact two-both Phoenixes had been in the company of Vampires, which had access to covens that could have been involved, and the Vamps certainly had enough of a motive. It was their style, and Desidera had mentioned them in passing to Sir Rodney.