Chapter 17
I DON'T WANNA POOF
Ziara
Iwoke to the smell of soap and the sight of my boyfriend studying my throat like it was a crime scene. His hair was still damp from the shower, and the furrow between his brows told me he didn’t like what he saw.
“It’s healing,” he observed out loud, and I couldn’t tell which of us he was trying to reassure. “I let you sleep as long as I could, but it’s time to get you into the shower.” He threw back the covers and offered me his hand.
The extra hours of sleep had done wonders for my body, because my legs were only slightly unstable when I stood. I released his hand and focused on putting one foot in front of the other without face-planting.
“How do you feel?” He hovered at my elbow, close enough to catch me if my legs gave out.
“Fine.”
“Need help in the shower?”
On any other morning, that question would have come with a smirk and a dimple. Today, it came with worried eyes, and that was somehow worse.
“I’ve got it.”
“You sure? I could—”
I slipped into the bathroom and closed the door before he could finish the offer. What I really needed was sixty seconds without him looking at me like I might break.
A glance in the mirror confirmed why Mack was so concerned: gaunt cheeks, ghastly complexion, dark circles around my eyes, a scabbed-over, bruised neck, and blood-caked hair.
Sexy.
I healed fast, but all magic came with a price, and Sereana had drained the life out of me to power her spells.
My stomach rumbled, cannibalizing itself for the energy necessary to deal with this day.
Dismissing my undead appearance, I quickly showered and dressed in my usual dark T-shirt and tactical pants.
Then I worked my hair into a French braid that hung down to my lower back to keep it out of my way.
Mack was pacing in the living room when I reemerged. His gaze slid over me before he met my eyes and asked, “You ready?”
“Almost.” I hurried into our bedroom, slid my daggers into their sewn-in thigh holsters, and frantically grabbed clothes from my dresser, stuffing them into my bag.
If I could have gone back in time, I would have kicked myself for spending yesterday in bed with Mack, rather than packing, but I hadn’t expected to be so out of it last night.
“The alpha didn’t give you any hints about where we’re going?” I called out.
“Nope.”
“Great. Super helpful,” I muttered, focusing on my bag.
The next compartment held a collection of herbs, lockpicks, rope, and knives.
I’d restocked everything before going after the bloodstone, but I still did a quick inventory of the contents.
The spray bottle of Sereana’s magical scent eraser was a little under half full, but nothing could be done about that now.
Even if I’d known to ask her for more yesterday, she never offered anything for free, and I had no energy to spare.
“Why don’t you head to breakfast, and I’ll catch up,” I suggested, organizing the next compartment.
“Not a chance.”
Someone knocked on the front door. I zipped up my bag and headed into the living room just as Tali let herself in.
“What are you doing here?” Mack asked, ushering her right back out the door with me on his heels.
“You weren’t at breakfast, and I didn’t want to miss you,” she said, peering past her brother to focus on me. “You look rough, Zee.”
“The witch bound her wolf again last night.” Mack closed the door behind me before shooing us toward the path. “I let her sleep longer than I should have, but she could have used a few more hours.”
Or days.
She eyed me and nodded. “Everyone’s talking about your trip, but nobody knows where you’re going,” Tali said. “Do you?”
Mackiel gave her a brotherly shove toward the tunnel. “That information’s above your pay grade, pup.”
“Right.” Tali was in front of me, so I couldn’t see her face, but her tone implied heavy eye-rolling. “If you don’t know, just say so, dumbass.”
Most days, their bickering made me wish I had a sibling to antagonize. Today, every decibel drove a spike through my temples. They didn’t stop until we reached the mess hall, which was already half full, the other half clogging the serving line.
Hitch materialized at the door before Mack could reach it, swinging it wide and greeting my boyfriend with a clap on the shoulder and a grin that never reached his eyes. “Heard you returned just in time to leave us again.”
Mack gave him nothing. He never did. “Duty calls.”
“Fuckin’ A.” Hitch barely spared Tali and me a glance before sending Mack toward the front of the line. “Make room. Let Denael get some grub so we can send him on his way.”
The line parted as if Mack were royalty. Hands reached out to clap his back, voices called his name, and a chorus of greetings followed him down the line. Escorting recruits safely to and from the farm had earned him a hero’s reputation, and the pack treated him accordingly.
He grabbed my hand and towed me to the front. I snagged Tali’s wrist on the way, dragging her along before the line could close behind us. We loaded our trays with sausage, eggs, potatoes, and bread, then found three seats before Mack’s fan club descended.
They peppered him with questions, asking how the recruits were and whether he had seen their brother, daughter, or mate. Mack fielded each one with patience I couldn’t have faked.
Jealousy wasn’t the issue. I’d rather eat glass than be the center of that much attention. Perfectly content in the shadow of his spotlight, I put my head down and inhaled my breakfast.
Tali poured a glass of orange juice from the pitcher on the table and passed it to me. “I almost forgot,” she said, digging deep into her pocket. “I have something for you.”
She thrust her hand in front of my face to display a small stuffed brown and white paw dangling from a keychain. It was the rabbit’s foot Mack and I had found for her in an old souvenir shop in the ruins.
“I can’t take that. We gave it to you for luck.”
“But I have teeth and claws, so I don’t need luck. You…,” she looked me over, frowning, “need luck. Just promise you’ll live long enough to give it back.”
The insult was right there, begging to be addressed, but the lump in my throat wouldn’t let me. I fastened the charm to my backpack strap with clumsy fingers and pulled her into a hug before my eyes could do something embarrassing. “Thank you. Stay safe while we’re gone.”
“You, too. Keep your nose clean, kid.”
Since she’d stolen my line, I channeled Rust and ruffled her hair for being a punk. “Everyone’s a smartass these days.”
After we ate, the entire pack gathered at the den's entrance to see us off. They seemed especially happy that I was leaving, but I couldn’t blame them for that. With any luck, the dragon would follow us right into whatever trap the alpha had set for him.
Movement was a drug, and I was an addict who’d been sober for two days too many. Even the torrential rain felt like a gift as I climbed onto my bike. The past two days had been suspiciously sunny, but Seattle had a reputation to uphold. Spring meant drowning season, and the sky was fully committed.
The smell of wet everything hit my nose as we fired up the bikes and followed Dad north on I-5.
We slipped into formation without a word—a habit drilled so deep it was practically reflex.
Mack took the rear, and when I glanced back, my boyfriend was gone.
In his place rode the soldier, scanning every shadow with the cold focus of a man responsible for getting people home alive.
Witnessing this badass side of him was kind of cool.
We exited the freeway into streets that looked like a war zone crossed with a botanical garden.
Magic had chewed through the infrastructure, and nature had swallowed the leftovers.
The shimmery blue barrier loomed larger with every block, close enough now that I could feel its magic prickling against my skin.
My hackles rose. Every instinct I had begged me to turn the bike around, but I followed Rust down a narrow alley, past a notice stamped with the Peace Council seal that read
Welcome to the Seattle Teleportation Station.
This neutral ground is protected by the Peace Council. Violence of any kind will not be tolerated.
The stench of magic wafted off a barely there glimmer surrounding the property.
As we entered the parking lot, the ward slid over my skin like a giant soap bubble that left no residue.
Definitely a more tolerable experience than my passage through the dragon’s ward. I parked in the open spot next to Rust.
The shudder steadily dancing up my spine gained momentum when I realized our enemies were nearly close enough to spit on.
Only a gothic-looking old church stood between us and the barrier.
The fully intact building was a bastion of urban craftsmanship and vegetation nullification in a city of overgrown ruins.
Not a single crack marred the cement parking lot, and even the stained-glass windows were unbroken.
The alpha was already off his bike and marching toward the building when I dismounted. He disappeared around the side as Rust leaned against his bike and folded his arms, signaling that we’d be here for a while.
Mackiel parked beside me as I joined Rust. “What is this place?”
“Didn’t you see the sign?”
I had, but it seemed impossible. “Teleportation isn’t real.”
Rust quirked a bemused smile in my direction. “Isn’t it?”
“Where’s the alpha?” Mack asked as he stepped up beside us, shaking rainwater out of his hair. Our waterproof jackets only covered our torsos and arms. The rain had slowed to a drizzle now, but the damage was done, and we were soaked through.
“He’ll be back in a moment,” Rust replied. “We’ll wait here ’till he’s done.”
“Then what?” I asked, keeping one eye on the side of the building where Dad had disappeared. “Where are we going next?”
“We’ll be teleporting, of course.”
“Teleporting?” Mack and I echoed in unison, and I was relieved to hear that he sounded confused, too.
Rust nodded. “Yep.”