Chapter Thirty-Six
Freya
O n Arion’s back, Walker, Cady, and I arrived at the Reids’ property in no time at all. Upon my request, Arion transformed back into his cat form, and Ryder arrived shortly after. Luckily, he had carried spare jeans in his mouth as a wolf. As soon as he shifted and put them on, we walked down the long, gravel driveway.
Like always, the gate had been left open. The grass was a foot tall, and the house had grown dilapidated without anyone to care for it. As we walked, I studied both siblings closely. Cady’s lip wobbled, but she didn’t cry. Walker’s jaw was clenched.
Though I had never imagined myself making such a promise, I vowed to help Clyde Reid, if only to ease his children’s pain. Losing a loved one was like losing a limb, and Clyde had been lost to them for far too long.
“Guess I need to brush hog,” Walker observed and scratched the back of his head.
“You’ve been busy,” I said.
He grunted, and we continued to crunch on the gravel without speaking. When we walked up the front steps, the wood groaned beneath our feet but held strong. Walker opened the unlocked door, and I worried vagrants might’ve taken shelter inside. Luckily, it was empty.
Everything was exactly as they had left it, with the addition of a layer of dust. We quickly moved through the kitchen and into the living room. The air was stagnant, but the couch, recliner, and rocking chair were in place. The Reid siblings kept their gazes pointedly ahead. I admired their focus, though I worried about them all the same.
I understood better than most that bottling emotions was easy. Too easy. Once you started, it was hard to stop.
Down the narrow hall, I couldn’t help but smile at the pictures of young Walker. My favorite was the one of him next to a horse, wearing a smaller version of his brown hat and a toothy grin.
When we reached the linen closet at the end of the hall, Walker pulled an ancient key out of his pocket. A dragon was crafted into its handle. I recognized it from the last time we had entered the basement, before the Blood Moon battle.
“Glad someone saved this,” the cowboy said and turned the key.
One of the witches had fished it out of Clyde’s pocket and given it to Walker. He had told her his dad would need it back eventually.
And he will.
Walker pushed open the secret door. The entirety of the linen closet swung and revealed a dark set of concrete stairs. Walker flicked on the industrial lights, and we headed down.
As Walker turned on the lights in the hunter’s lair itself, Ryder cursed. I had forgotten he had never been down here.
“This is sick,” Ryder said. Disgust and awe colored his words. I understood the feeling.
The Reid family collection was impressively fatal and all geared toward killing supernaturals. Arion walked closely by my side.
A fighting ring occupied the center of the space, whereas weapons, ranging from machetes to firearms, and targets lined the walls. In the far corner of the room was the locked closet. I had once asked Clyde Reid what kind of stolen magic he hid in there.
The usual magical contraband.
Did he not know what was locked in there, or had he lied?
Were we wrong?
There was only one way to find out.
We approached the closet cautiously, as if it were a wild animal just waiting to strike. Magic emanated from it, but not the kind I would’ve expected from a ripple in the universe. My thoughts drifted to Elle. She didn’t emanate the sort of magic I would expect to be of great importance either.
The door was bolted and padlocked shut. The lock itself was rusted and appeared to be hanging on by a thread. Arion sniffed the door and retreated back to my side.
“You really should replace your locks,” Ryder said. As he raised his hand to the lock, his claws extended, and his muscles bulged.
Cady spoke. “I wouldn’t do that—”
Ryder grabbed the lock but immediately dropped it and hissed. Blisters bloomed on his reddened palm.
“It’s probably spelled to keep out any ole magical creature,” Cady finished drily.
“This is good,” I said.
“Say that to my hand,” Ryder snapped.
I rolled my eyes. “If the Reid ancestors went through this much trouble to keep the door shut, it means there’s something really powerful in there.”
“Yeah,” Walker agreed, “but how do we unlock the door?”
“Try your key,” I suggested.
Walker stared at me incredulously.
“You’re a Reid,” I said. “It might not burn you.”
Before Walker could do as I asked, Cady poked the lock and examined the tip of her finger.
“Yep,” she said and shrugged. “I felt nothing.”
“You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” Walker grumbled and hesitantly picked up the lock.
When it didn’t fry him, he sighed and wiggled the key into the hole. He tried to turn it but met resistance. After a few more tries, he let go of the lock.
“It doesn’t fit,” he conceded.
Ryder's voice dripped with sarcasm. “Really?”
“Would you like to try again?” Walker shot back.
Ryder glowered and walked over to the wall of weapons. He pulled a heavy, double-edged axe down and sauntered back to the closet door.
“You really think hitting it is going to work?” I asked.
“Do you have a better idea?” Ryder asked.
The answer was undeniably no, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying so. I tugged Cady back, and Ryder swung. Metal clanked against metal, but the lock held strong. Ryder swung again, but a wave of shimmering magic blasted him backward. Ryder flew and hit the far wall with a bang. The axe, now broken into two pieces, clattered to the ground beside him.
Just as quickly, the tidal wave of magic receded, but the lock remained unharmed and secured.
“Are you okay?” Cady asked.
Ryder lifted a single thumb.
Walker’s lips quirked, and I would’ve chided him for being a jerk, but it was the first hint of a smile he had donned since the spell to save Clyde failed.
Cautiously, I crept closer to the lock and studied it. It was as ordinary and decrepit as could be, but there had to be something we weren’t recognizing.
“It doesn’t mind being touched by the Reids,” I said. “It hates werewolves and doesn’t respond well to force. Is there another key in here? Is there some secret hunter code word?”
Walker picked up the lock and studied it. He tilted his body so I could see it too. When he flipped it over, I realized there was a particular shape to the rusty splotch.
“Wipe that off,” I said and pointed.
Walker rubbed his thumb against the rust and revealed a symbol. A moon with a single lily sprouting in front of it was etched onto the back of the lock.
“That’s the Moonflower crest,” I said.
“So this lock was added after Gwendolyn Moonflower joined the family,” Walker said.
I nodded. “She wouldn’t have left this just to leave her signature, though. This is a clue. I can feel it.”
When it hit me, I gasped.
“Cady!” I called.
She rose from where she had crouched at Ryder’s side. After helping him to his feet, she and Ryder hurried to us.
“I don’t think there’s a physical key to the lock,” I explained in a rush. “I think Cady is the key. She’s the Moonflower witch named in your family’s curse. I think her earth magic can unlock this door.”
Not to mention, she’s supposedly the key to stopping the sorceress.
Cady reached for the lock.
“Wait,” Walker said. Cadence glowered. “Shouldn’t we bring back-up before we ambush the High Witch guns-blazing?”
I nodded. “We’re only going to see if the ripple is in here. When we figure out if we’re right, we’ll bring a crew of witches and wolves to help us or at least to be witnesses. Maybe with the Elders at my side, Cordelia will hesitate to strike us down.”
Maybe.
“She’ll hesitate to kill wolves,” Ryder said. “Once the Sovereign learns Elle is my mate, Cordelia will be forced not to harm her. My father is already working on getting in touch with him.”
“Okay,” Walker conceded. He ruffled his sister’s hair. “Give it your best, Cady-Cat.”
Cadence picked up the lock. Vines—flowery and delicate, unlike the awful things that had covered Clyde—coiled from her fingers and joined at the lock’s keyhole. When the vines filled the keyhole, the lock clicked open, and the bolt slid free. As the door swung open, Walker grabbed his sister and pulled her back.
Arion scratched at my legs, but magic overwhelmed my senses. It pounded so loudly, my eardrums hurt, and my chest rattled. Colors and light and shadows swirled like a kaleidoscope before us. The scents of burning wood and rotting earth and the freshness of rain filled my nostrils. Magic raised the hair on the back of my neck and simmered in my veins.
I had always found portals to be an attack on the senses, but this was a siege.
I reached for the door with the intention of slamming it shut, but an ungodly vacuum of power pulled me forward. My boots slid across the concrete. I grabbed the doorway, but my grip wasn’t strong enough to save me from the funnel of power. Around me, my friends suffered the same fate. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t open my mouth.
I couldn’t breathe.
As we were sucked into the ripple, all I could do was pray to the Goddess for mercy.