Chapter 4
Ryder, that bastard. I glared up the hillside as if he’d be standing there, looking down at me with that devilish smirk.
Scanning the dark horizon, I crept along the rock face, hiding within its shadows, trying to gauge a better path to escape. As I moved closer to the bottom, the sandhills towered over me, eroded and menacing.
I leaned over the edge. Pine needles and fractured rock littered the ground, and probably bones—mine if I wasn’t careful. If I didn’t stay calm.
Of course I’d wind up here. If I craned my neck, I could make out the looping letters of the rooftop’s sign just over the thick fence of trees.
The glaring reflection of a floodlight bounced off the curve of the W, the swirl of the A, the O hanging on for dear life. Wizard of Auto.
My fingers curled in on themselves. I knew better now—that the auto body shop was merely a front for the Night Stalkers, for their black market, blood oaths, and nefarious deals.
And of course, the crumbling pale rocks curved around the buildings, providing only one way in or out: through the compound.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I eased myself down the rest of the delicate slope. Fully aware that one misplaced hand, one slip of my shoe, could end in a gnarly fall. Worse, it could attract attention.
I hopped off the last outcrop, sinking into the dirt that lined the dense wall of pine. Light flickered through the trees—a flash of metal, the glitter of sand-crusted glass.
It was quiet. Probably a ruse.
Even if most of the Night Stalkers were still attacking the werewolves, there had to be a guard or two patrolling somewhere, waiting for me to stumble through, ready to enact the next phase of Ryder and Leif’s plan, whatever that was—finally hand me over to Chthonia?
Torture me? Siphon my Source in one of these salt-worn buildings?
Because killing my therapist, putting my best friend in the hospital, stealing my mom’s necklace, and outright betraying me wasn’t enough. No—tonight’s ambush and that murderous gleam on Leif’s face made it clear I was still being hunted.
Easing through the row of trees, I darted to the closest building, throwing myself against its peeling emerald wall. My back scraped against its bumpy surface.
Rusty pipes, sheds due to collapse at any moment, old motorcycles, and lots of junk twinkled beneath the stars… but no peddlers, thieves, or assassins. No misfits. No Night Stalkers.
Maybe I was stealthier than I thought.
“Stop right ter.”
Two pairs of hands clamped down on my arms.
Dread washed over me, breaths quick and panicky, heart beating out of my chest. My eyes darted around. No Ryder, no Leif, just the dwarf in front of me, and the two at my sides.
Dropping my shoulders, I faked an air of indifference, even if I was shaking inside.
“You got me.” I glared down at the dwarf, his red beard bright against his pale pink skin.
I tried to elbow the other two off, but their grip was as unbreakable as iron.
The head dwarf matched my furrowed stare. “Yer goin’ to need to come wit us.”
I’d figured that was coming, but still… my mouth went dry. I only hoped the tremble in my bones didn’t make it to my voice when I asked, “Where?”
His unruly brows dipped inward. “To see te Wizard, of course.”
The words struck me like darts.
“The Wizard?” I repeated, slowly, adding time. “Doesn’t he have more important things to do?”
“Probably. So, ye can imagine what his reaction will be when he has to stop what he’s doin’ for…” Even in the dark, his inquisitive gaze bored into me. “This.”
This—cataloguing me not as a threat, but more a thorn they needed to pluck out of their side. He tilted a brow, his eyes sweeping over my clothes. Maybe for weapons.
If they were expecting me, they would’ve known I was defenseless—powerless. But clearly, they hadn’t been briefed. They had no idea who I was.
I played into that. “What, an inquiring customer?”
“Yer still a trespasser.” He gnashed his teeth together, metal caps glistening. The sound cut into my skull, and I bit back a scream for help that I knew he would only silence.
Turning his back, he walked towards the moonrocks, where the stones caged me in.
The leaden weight of fear nearly shoved me to my knees.
I didn’t move until fingers dug into my bicep. “C’mon,” one of the remaining dwarves growled, “we don’t ’ave all day.”
“Can you lighten your grip a little?” I bit out, feet skidding in the dirt.
In reply, he tugged on my arm as if it were a leash. I was flung forward, my shoulder almost popping out of its socket.
A flash of recognition crossed his features. “I know who ye are.”
“No, you don’t,” I said quickly. Much too quickly. “I’m just a customer. Here with a business proposition. First-time visitor. You don’t know me.”
“Yes, I do.” He threaded his fingers through his moustache in contemplation, until his eyes lit. “Yer Ryder’s girl.”
I flinched at the name. Shit, the dwarves did know me. I’d be delusional to think otherwise—to think I’d actually outsmarted a bunch of veteran criminals.
Stomach roiling, I swallowed thickly against the sting of bile. “And who are you?”
“Te name’s Nemuik.” Gravel crackled beneath his boots as he watched me for a reaction. I didn’t give him one, keeping my expression neutral. “That ter’s Declan and up ahead is Grum.”
I glanced at the dwarf on my other side. His grip was firm but noticeably gentler. Most of his mouth—his entire face, really—was buried in his russet beard.
With a sharp twist of my arm, we followed Grum around the building, broken windows and their bare interiors flashing by. My heart skipped. Was that the room where Ryder signed his blood oath? Where he’d vowed to hunt me down?
“So, Ryder and Leif made it back already, then?” I asked, trying not to stumble over their names. They still tasted bitter, but I’d say anything to fill the silence, which was sharper than the blade gleaming at Nemuik’s hip.
“What now?”
“From the Council of the Moon?” No answer. “Crescent Rock?” Disbelief had my voice pitching up. I knew I was dealing with criminals here, but surely slaughtering dozens of innocent werewolves wasn’t a typical checkbox on their to-do list. “With the rest of the Night Stalkers?”
“What are ye goin’ on about?” Nemuik snapped.
Suspicion pricked at my skin. “There were hundreds of you there. It was an ambush.”
“Exactly what are ye tryin’ to insinuate, girl?” His beady eyes narrowed in impatience, but his gaze bounced across my face, like he was looking for something.
I glared right back. “Nothing, I’m telling you facts. Leif led the whole attack.”
“Our crew done no such thing.”
“Who was it then?” I side-eyed Declan. He seemed equally confused. Or maybe that was disinterest? Hard to tell with all the hair. Either way—this was weird. “They were dressed in all black.”
“That’s yer evidence?” Nemuik snorted. “They were dressed in all black,” he repeated in a shrill tone he must have thought sounded girly. An attempt to mock me. It made my blood boil. “What good do we ’ave attackin’ a bunch of mangy mutts?”
“Watch it,” I snapped. “Those mangy mutts are my friends.”
“Pets, friends, whatever they are,” he harumphed, “I stand by what I said. It wasn’t us.”
I kept my chin high and my face forward, careful to keep the nerves twisting my stomach from reaching my face. “Don’t you dare make me feel like I’m crazy.”
They were there. I saw them—ran from them. The Stalkers were obviously trying to disorient me, and I hated to admit… it was working. My shoulders caved in.
With another yank, Nemuik steered us down a dirt strip that could hardly be called a trail.
Panic and Source roared to life in my veins. I staggered at the rush of blood, the sudden awareness of just how hard my heart pounded, just how much I wished I could escape.
“Yer better off not runnin’,” Nemuik advised, as if I was stupid enough to try. “Or askin’ questions or makin’ silly assumptions. Ye say ye got business to do? Get to it and go.”
Like Ryder and Leif would let you release me, anyways. The thought was so loud, I could have sworn it left my lips in a frantic breath.
Tingles surged down my arm, collecting beneath the dwarves’ firm grips. My magic was desperate for a way out, every dig of their fingers only feeding its power like oxygen to a flame. But there was no escaping for either of us here. There was nothing but darkness and rock.
Through a break in the trees, something stubborn and firm ground against the packed earth. I couldn’t see it; I could hardly hear it over the drum of my racing heart. But I felt it, a dragging in my teeth, my bones. A body? A rope?
Light flickered ahead. Fire burned back the night. Under the orange glow of torchlight, I could make out the pale slabs of rock, dead leaves, and a rusty old door the first dwarf—Grum—had just finished opening.
Nothing but darkness waited inside. I scanned a dilapidated sign that’d been staked into the ground next to it: Moonrock Mine.
“In we go, little Nephilim.” Grum took the torch out of its bracket, the flames dancing in his golden eyes. “Don’t be shy. Te Wizard is waitin’.”