Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
We Gotta Go
Declan
The next morning, I was still reeling about everything that’d happened at the race. My brain kept replaying the minutes after that shot was fired. Over and over again.
The loud crack as the bullet hit the water jug. Then the screaming. And then suddenly, I was seeing everything unfold from Licorice’s viewpoint high above the street.
Who knew you could develop a fear of flying when your feet were still on the ground? But when I linked with Licorice as she swooped through the air above the town… yeah, I’d gotten queasy. Being suddenly blinded to what was right in front of me hadn’t helped. I’d stumbled. Fallen.
I could still hear Gideon shouting my name just before he scooped me off my feet and carried me to safety.
But it wasn’t just the view of the street that Licorice had shared. She’d also shown me someone in a Bull’s Eye Brewery t-shirt running across a roof with a gun in their hand.
It was a lot to process.
We’d all been in shock after it happened.
The end-of-festival wrap-up had understandably been canceled, much to Leon’s chagrin, but that hadn’t kept people home.
After Grady had let everyone know it was safe to go outside again—confirming that the roof where I’d seen the shooter was empty—most Ravenstonians opted to gather at The Den until the wee hours in the morning.
It was amazing how many times the shooting incident, which had lasted mere seconds, could be described and dissected.
Each iteration became more harrowing, as if what actually happened hadn’t been traumatic enough.
But other than deciding guns didn’t mix well with a beer festival, which wasn’t exactly an earthshattering idea, no other conclusions were made.
“I’m going to need a lot more coffee than this to get through today,” I muttered, staring into the mug of coffee Gideon had pushed into my hand. He laughed softly at my moaning, then pressed a kiss to my temple.
I was sitting on the barstool at his small kitchen island, so it was the perfect height for me to lean back against him. He wrapped his arms around me, and I sighed. Despite everything that’d happened, I felt safe here with him. I wished we could just hide here all day.
But Gideon had decided he needed to be available today, in case any of the locals wanted to talk about the shooting or just be with pack. He truly was the alpha, regardless of his inability to shift into his wolf.
“You didn’t have to get up yet,” Gideon said, dropping a kiss on the side of my neck before pulling away.
We’d agreed I’d move in with him, but the apartment still felt like his, not ours. And lingering in his bed without him felt a little weird. I was sure that’d change with time, but I wasn’t there yet. Besides, I didn’t want to be too far from him. He was my big, growly security blanket.
“But if you’re staying up, I can make you something, too,” Gideon said as he rummaged through his-our–small fridge. “Something more than coffee, I mean.”
His kitchen was tiny, which explained why they often used The Den’s kitchen when the pack got together, but it was perfect for a cozy breakfast for two. He’d just popped some bread in the toaster when his phone pinged. I watched as he read the message. His forehead creased.
“Az says the misfits want to get together.”
“When?” It was still morning. Misfit meetings were usually held in the evening.
“Now.”
I groaned. “I haven’t had enough coffee yet.”
“We can fill a carafe and take it with us.”
Half an hour later, after a semi-rejuvenating shower with my sexy wolf, we made our way to the Mystic Menagerie. I felt so much better after cleaning up that I hadn’t even dragged the carafe with me. Licorice was waiting for us at the back door, and Gideon just waved her inside in front of us.
When the three of us arrived in the backroom, Eugene was quivering—in excitement, I suspected. It wasn’t every day there were shots fired through downtown Ravenstone.
All the other misfits, except Mellgren, were already seated around the table. With the Get Hopped Up festival over, the vampire would be busy at the Whispering Pines Hotel and Conference Center today as festival attendees checked out.
My grandfather was at the head of the table, with a somber look on his face. He had bags under his eyes, and his gaze kept straying to me. I understood why. If that bullet had strayed a couple of feet to the right of Beckett, it would’ve hit me.
Even George, who was draped over my grandfather’s shoulder, looked worn out, but he was staring at me, too. I made a mental note to look up how often mice blinked, because being the focus of his unblinking stare was making the hairs on the back of my neck quiver.
Still, I was convinced Beckett had been the target and that whoever had aimed the gun was an excellent shot. I was chalking my conviction up to my magical intuition—not that I was sure I had one of those, but whatever.
Eugene’s murder board was turned to face the group.
It’d only been a few days since he’d started it, but it felt much longer.
New pictures had already been added to the board.
A red dot on a map showed where I’d been standing beside Beckett.
If he hadn’t bent down to retrieve my cup, my nightmares last night would’ve been a lot more disturbing.
I shuddered.
Gideon’s hand slipped into mine, and I scooted closer to him. I had half a mind to crawl into his lap just so I could feel his arms around me again.
Beside me, Hazel’s knitting needles clicked and clacked in a steady rhythm, although it was faster and a bit more aggressive than usual.
Tulip was winding her green hair around one of her webbed fingers.
She didn’t usually fidget, so I suspected it was a sign she wasn’t as calm as she appeared.
Az had his arms folded over his chest as he scowled at a spot on the table in front of him.
His jaw kept clenching and unclenching. Perry was hunched down so low that he looked seconds from sliding under the table. And then there was Sandy.
The sprite’s mouth was hanging open in shock as his gaze darted all over me. “Where are the cupcakes or cookies or muffins or…?” He waved his hand through the air. “Anything.”
My cheeks heated. “I… uh… I didn’t think I should bake.”
“But why?”
I squirmed in my seat. “Well, after the whole Truth Muffin Debacle…” Yes, that was all capitalized in my head.
“But… what does that have to do with cake?”
I blinked at him. “You would still want to eat something I baked?”
The delicate features of his face crinkled up like I wasn’t making any sense. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I told you it’d be fine,” Gideon whispered in my ear.
Tears welled in my eyes. I was such a mess today, but knowing someone would still want to eat something I baked gave me hope. My bakery dream might not be dead yet. Gideon and Elwood had both said as much, but they were biased. Having Sandy confirm it meant the world.
“I’ll bring something next time,” I said, my voice rough with emotion.
“That would be best, dear,” Hazel said. “I only ate a handful of flies this morning, because I expected to have a treat to nibble on once I got here.”
Elwood cleared his throat to get our attention. “This is not our usual misfit meeting, but I want to check in with everyone. How are you doing after everything that’s happened this week?”
“Humans are assholes,” Az said.
“We don’t know that the shooter was a human,” Elwood said.
“No, but the drunk who threw up on the bench outside my bookstore sure was.”
Everyone made sounds of commiseration.
“I wouldn’t normally agree,” Sandy said. “But some of the humans are driving the Whispering Pines staff crazy, too.” His gaze darted to mine, then away quickly.
“You mean Josh, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah…” Sandy squirmed. “There have been tons of complaints from people staying close to his room. Either he or the person he’s been taking back to his room is a real screamer.”
Josh had never been particularly vocal when we’d been together, but he might be trying new things.
Unless Beckett was the enthusiastic one.
Or who knew? He might have found someone new to lure back to his room.
Whatever the reason, I really wished people would quit linking my name with Josh’s. He wasn’t my problem anymore.
Then Perry shuffled in his seat.
“Perry, did you have something you’d like to share?” Elwood asked gently.
The bigfoot hunched a little lower. His shaggy hair fell in front of his eyes.
He hadn’t attended many meetings and wasn’t comfortable talking in front of everyone yet.
“I liked working in the food truck. The restaurant is nice, but there are always so many people coming and going from the kitchen… the truck was good.”
“That’s wonderful, dear.” One of Hazel’s long spider legs reached across Tulip to pat Perry.
Tulip huffed. “Am I the only one who wants to find Roy’s killer and drag him to the bottom of my pond?”
“Yes, you are,” Sandy said matter-of-factly. “But I do want to know who’s doing all this so we can stop them.”
“Isn’t that what I just said?” Tulip pouted and crossed her arms.
“I’d like to figure out what’s going on, too,” I said. “Yesterday scared me.”
Gideon squeezed my hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand in small soothing circles.
Elwood nodded. “It scared me, too. So, unless anyone else would like to talk about something else first…” He waited a long moment. When no one spoke, he nodded. “Okay, perhaps we should turn our attention to Roy’s murder and what happened yesterday. It seems unlikely they aren’t connected.”
“I know we aren’t the police, but having more people trying to figure this out can’t hurt, right?” The group nodded at me.
“Since I still think the hexes had a role to play in this whole mess, I’m obliged to investigate,” Elwood said. “Nadia confessed to making the hexes, and obviously she wasn’t the shooter, but—”