Chapter 20
Periwinkle
At the name “Gracie,” my heart skips a beat. Memories flood my head of the girl who used to slip into her dad’s basement to talk to me through the bars of my cage.
I haven’t seen Gracie in years. Not since she defied her sorcerer father and arranged to free all his captive shadowkind from their cages. My last memory of her is hearing David Blaver ranting at her as I raced off through the shadows.
It has to be her, doesn’t it? Who else with the same name would be asking for me?
Even as my heart squeezes tight at the thought, I push closer to the being who just popped into the trailer. “Are you sure that’s her name? Why would the hunters capture a human?”
The gawky shadowkind woman stares at me, maybe taken aback by my vehemence. I guess I’m not usually quite that forceful.
“I—I’m not totally sure,” she admits. “One of the hunters asked her name, and that’s what I thought I heard, but I wasn’t all that close. I don’t like hanging around their camp. Too much silver and iron.” She shivers.
Rollick speaks up before I need to, in a more measured voice than I managed. “That’s completely understandable. Did you get a sense of what the hunters want with her?”
The woman nods. “They seemed upset that she already knows at least one of the shadowkind here. They were saying she’s a traitor to other humans, that she must be part of a conspiracy or something.”
I let out a huff. “Where do they come up with these silly stories?”
I spin toward Rollick, my gaze sliding over my men as I move. “We have to help her. She’s David Blaver’s daughter—the one who saved me from his sorcery. She must have come here hoping she could help with this problem too.”
The demon frowns. “Does she have powers you haven’t mentioned? I can’t see how one human would make much difference in the current catastrophe.”
I fold my arms over my chest, daring to glower right back at him, though my pulse stutters while I do.
“She might have some sorcerer ability that she inherited from her dad, but I don’t know about that.
What does it matter? She came because of us, so we should get her away from the hunters before they do anything even more awful. ”
Jonah weighs in with his even, teacherly tone. “We can’t abandon a friend. And having more humans on our side is only going to be a good thing, right?”
The second part is clearly meant to appeal to Rollick’s sense of practicality. Jonah does know his former boss well.
The demon sighs and waves his hand in a vague gesture. “Fine. And I can’t say I’d be sad to see the hunters lose out on whatever prize they think they’ve caught. But don’t spend too much time on it, and don’t make a bigger PR crisis than we’ve already got on our hands.”
I nod with all the determination I can summon. “Right. We’ll be ever so stealthy and whisk her away. Let’s go!”
I dart out of the trailer through the shadows with my mates following behind me. Although Jonah has to use the door anyway, so I guess we could just as easily have walked.
As we gather in a cluster next to the room on wheels, a few other beings join us: Fen and Brine, the sparky shadowkind and the imp Jonah brought to our first TV appearance, and the centaur shifter who used to be Gloss’s friend and seems to want to go wherever Hail does.
She isn’t batting her eyelashes at my mate now but watching me with avid attention that she tries to hide behind a bored expression when I look at her.
She twists a strand of her coppery hair around her finger and takes on a bland tone that doesn’t fit the lemon-drop eagerness of her curiosity.
“Are we really going to pull one over on the hunters?”
I beam at her. “I bet we can. They shouldn’t think they can go bossing everyone around, right?”
A gleam lights in her eyes. She tosses back her hair. “Definitely not.”
Who would have thought I’d end up bonding with anyone from Gloss’s crew over sticking it to hunters?
Jonah rubs his hand over his mouth. “Should I stay back here? I can’t sneak quite the way the rest of you can.”
I shake my head. “No, we might need you to distract them. That’s how heists work, right? Confusion and misdirection.”
Mirage springs onto his hands and whirls around. “Enough tricks to make them sick!”
“Except your illusions don’t affect them when they’re wearing their badges.” I worry at my lower lip, wondering what we can do about that. The hunters will definitely notice if we start popping their badges off like Hail managed before.
The winter fae tilts his head toward the edge of camp where the hunters have set up their own exclusive mini-camp.
“Why don’t we get over there and see exactly what we’re dealing with, and then we’ll make plans?
Our mortal dude can hang back until we’re sure how we’re using him.
” He aims a thin but not unfriendly smile at Jonah.
I clap my hands together. “Yes! Right. Stick to total stealth-mode. Let’s go!”
Even if I didn’t already know what spot the hunters had staked out, I’d be able to sense it from a distance. As we creep through the shadows toward it, the aura of noxious metals wriggles through my senses.
Their tents are strung with silver and iron beads.
They have a caravan that I suspect is stuffed full of nets and other anti-shadowkind weapons, considering that just looking at it makes my skin crawl so badly I want to teleport myself to the other side of the world.
And of course they’re wearing their badges.
But despite all their precautions, they’re no match for our shadowkind sneakiness. They show no sign that they realize we’re lurking around the perimeter of their camp.
From the shade of a nearby sapling, we peer between the tents and trucks they’ve gathered.
At least twice as many humans are roaming around the hunters’ camp now than there were when they first barged in.
More of them must be traveling out this way hoping to show off their shadowkind-wrangling skills.
They’re not so great at wrangling anything else, as far as I can tell. The creature roasting on a spit over their large campfire looks like… a squirrel? Is that what they’re having for dinner?
I don’t even want to ask what’s in the pot bubbling on a kerosene stove nearby. It smells like mildew and bad dreams.
Amid all the humans prowling around their camp with their narrowed eyes, tensed stances, and badges flashing on their chests, it’s not hard to spot the one person who doesn’t belong.
A young woman is sitting cross-legged not far from the fire, the light glinting off her chestnut hair with its streaks of purple and pink.
I’d smile at Gracie’s interest in vibrant hair coloring if the rest of her situation didn’t wrench at my gut. The hunters have tied her wrists together behind her back in a position that looks very uncomfortable. Dirt smudges one of her cheeks as if it was pressed against the ground not long ago.
Two hunters stand over her like prison guards, their expressions extra somber. You’d think they’d caught her attempting to stage a mass murder rather than wanting to talk to little old me.
Anger prickles through my essence. I gather myself and will my emotions to settle down.
We’re not going to rescue Gracie by charging in like a bunch of cowboys. This needs to be a spy film, not a western.
I have the sense of Raze cocking his head where his presence is crouched next to me. “It doesn’t look as if her legs are bound. If they stopped watching her, she could probably get up and simply walk away.”
Fen wrings her hands. “But they’d see her. There are so many hunters around. Where would she go?”
“We’ve got to get her back to our home base,” I say. “And be fast about it. She can’t jump into the shadows with us. Maybe if we brought around a car…?”
Hail snorts. “They’d notice anyone driving over this way and start keeping an eye on them. Especially if the driver’s skills are anything like Raze’s.”
The basilisk shifter lets out a huff but can’t exactly argue.
A glimmer of inspiration lights in my head. Maybe we should think like cowboys as well as spies.
I glance toward Gloss’s friend—Sorrel, I think her name is. “Humans have other ways of getting around quickly. Would you be willing to let her ride on you, as a centaur?”
Sorrel shifts uneasily. “I’ve never had anyone on my back like that before. But…” She pauses. “The human doesn’t look very big or heavy. I’m sure I’m strong enough. I’d be the getaway car!”
Her voice brightens with those last words.
I grin. “Exactly. They’ll never see it coming.”
“All right. I’m on board.”
We just have to make sure that Gracie is. She won’t be expecting rescue via centaur.
I study the mini-camp again. “Okay… So we divert some of their attention. Jonah can come and ask to speak with them, make a fuss so more of them go over. But that probably won’t be enough.”
Mirage’s presence squirms in the shadow. “I’d use my illusions, but they won’t be able to see those anyway.”
Another lightbulb goes off. If this keeps up, my head will be blazing.
“They can’t, but Gracie can,” I say with a quiver of excitement. “You can let her know we’re here and guide her to where we’ll scoop her up without them having any clue!”
Hail chuckles. “I like the way you think, Cream Puff. I could conjure up something as an extra distraction—a sudden, condensed flurry, or icicles shooting up here and there.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure that would have the right effect. They know we have someone with wintery powers, so they’ll go more on guard trying to figure out where you are.”
A soft woof emanates from the darkness near my feet. I have the impression of a furry serpentine body pressing against my ankle.
I tickle the top of where I think Falkor’s head approximately is. “Hey, boy. I don’t think there’s anything for you to do here.”
The snake-puppy woofs again and squirms a little toward the edge of the shadows—toward the camp. Then I feel his attention turn back to me with an eager panting.
My stomach clenches. “You want to run in there? I guess that would be another distraction… But what if they catch you? They could really hurt you.”
Falkor wriggles from side to side without any trace of concern. He seems to think it’s all a big game.
I try again. “They have powerful weapons. They could stick you in a cage. It’s not fun.”
All at once, my self-declared pet wraps his presence around mine as if he’s squeezing me in a hug. The vibe he gives off is all brave supportiveness.
The clenching sensation in my stomach rises to grip my throat. I think he’s saying that he wants to pitch in just like the rest of us are.
I wouldn’t have thought the strange shadowkind creature paid enough attention to the missions we’ve been on to realize we’ve even had missions. Apparently I underestimated him.
Like so many people do me, because of my perky and soft exterior.
I give Falkor another pat, stuffing down my worries. “Okay. If you want to be a part of the team, you can lend a hand. Or paw. Whatever.” I turn my focus to my other companions around us. “Let’s do this!”
Fifteen minutes later, Jonah is marching up to the hunter’s camp in a bright red cape. It billows in the wind as if he’s a superhero.
When the imp produced the garment, our sorcerer raised his eyebrows and asked, “Are you sure?” But I pointed out that it’ll definitely catch the hunters’ attention.
“They’ll also assume I’m totally nuts,” he muttered, and then laughed. “Which might work in our favor. Nuts and harmless.”
Mirage grinned. “A little entertainment!”
It looks as if the hunters are more confused than entertained at the moment. Several of them walk over to meet Jonah at the edge of their camp, furrowed foreheads and puzzled frowns all around.
Unfortunately, the two watching over Gracie stay put.
Jonah sells the role awfully well, swishing his cape behind him and striking a gallant pose. “Who’s in charge here? I have a lot to discuss with your leader.”
Sputtered guffaws pass between the hunters. A couple more amble over to see what’s going on.
Raze has come up with a way to add his power to the mix. He glares at the base of a tree at the far side of the camp—and the roots must shrivel up and die. The cedar topples over, smacking into the roof of a nearby truck.
As a bunch of the hunters whirl toward the sound, Jonah waves his hand in the air. “And look at that! You can’t even take care of your own vehicles.”
Before any of the hunters can recover from their growing bewilderment, Falkor recognizes his cue. He dashes out of the shadows straight toward the two hunters poised around Gracie.
With a burbled arf, he twines between their legs, nearly tripping both of them. Yelping and cursing, the hunters snatch at the whips on their belts. The snake-puppy slither-bounds away, and they take off after him.
Which leaves no one near Gracie.
Mirage wiggles his fingers, and a neon sign blinks in the air in front of her. FOLLOW PATH TO PERI.
A strip of the hard-packed ground lights up like a red carpet straight toward our tree.
Gracie gapes for a second, but thankfully she’s been around supernatural beings enough not to be too thrown for a loop. She scrambles to her feet, swaying for balance, and dashes along the glowing path Mirage has conjured for her.
She makes it nearly to the edge of the camp before someone shouts, “The girl!”
Too late. Sorrel has already materialized in her centaur form.
She bends her horsey legs while Hail slices a blade of ice through the bindings on Gracie’s wrists.
Gracie throws herself onto Sorrel’s back, wrapping her arms around the centaur’s human-like waist, and Sorrel gallops off toward the main camp.
“What the—” someone yells behind us.
I don’t stick around to find out how they’re going to react. We all dive into the shadows and dart away after Sorrel. Even Falkor manages to catch up with us, panting hard but exuding triumph.
The last thing I hear is Jonah saying, “You know, you’re obviously way too disorganized to have a conversation about this right now. I’ll return when you’re ready.”
Then we’ve left the hunters behind.