Chapter 12 #2
Maybe they’re still out there. Maybe I can go look.
Placing Gus down against the brick side of the corner, tucking him out of the way of any bullets, I’m about to go back there when Ash comes soaring down the street. He reaches me, grabbing onto my arms with panicked hands.
“Are you okay?”
Am I okay? “I’m fine. But you got shot!”
“They went through me, but they were aiming at you!”
What? “Ash—”
His gaze roves over me, the same panic in his hands in his eyes. “Are you hurt? Is Gus hurt? Roxy, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Promise. But Ash—”
“You’re not bleeding?”
“What? No. Those bullets didn’t get anywhere near me.”
And they didn’t because… because Ash shoved me out of the way an instant before the bullets went through him. Because he’s right. The shooter was aiming at me.
Most prey shifters would pull a Gus and lose it. Raccoons don’t play dead. Raccoon shifters don’t take being shot at that easily.
“Motherfucker,” I snap, breaking free of Ash’s hold so that I really can storm back there. “You’re gonna shoot at me and think that’s okay? You’re gonna hit my opossum and scare Honey’s sidekick? Hell, no.”
“Roxy, please, don’t go.”
There’s something in Ash’s voice. One part pleading, one part terrified, there’s enough emotion in his whispered request to have me stopping in my tracks and turning to look at him.
Shit. He’s pale. I mean, he’s a ghost. He’s always pale. But Ash…
I hurry over to him. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone was trying to kill you this time, Roxy.”
Well. When he puts it like that…
I quirk my lips in a small grin, a vain attempt to lighten the mood. “Shit. I know I made enemies in Moonburrow, but getting shot at before sunrise? Yeesh.”
For a heartbeat, Ash just stares at me. He gasps, starting to sway slightly.
Uh-oh. I grab his shoulder, steadying him. “Ash?”
“I know sarcasm is your defense mechanism,” he utters faintly, “but I think I’m going to faint.”
Despite everything that just happened, a laugh escapes me. “Is that possible? Can an opossum playing dead in my spare room also play dead when he’s a ghost?”
Ash opens his mouth, thinks about what I said, then closes it. On the upside, he doesn’t look like he’s about to pass out any longer so, in my opinion, that made the joke worth it.
He’s right. Sarcasm and humor and a tough attitude have always been my defense mechanisms. I can’t go after the shooter. They’re probably gone by now anyway, and it would be foolish, risking my life to confront them.
Plus, it’s not just me I have to worry about. I have Ash. I have Gus.
And I have to figure out just what it means that, when Ash understood we were being shot at before I did, his first instinct was to push me out of the way and take the shots himself…
Not now. Not yet. There’s a million of other things I have to do first, and when Ash says, “We should get off the street and find somewhere to hide,” I’m already ahead of him.
I cradle Gus again, grab Ash by the wrist, and continue down the side street until I can get us back on the path to Dough You Believe in Magic.
I’m pretty sure Ash wanted to head to my place.
Too far. It’s ten minutes to the bakery, twenty to my store, and with my long legs eating up the pavement and my raccoon spurring me on, I’m dashing up the back entrance to the bakery in less than six.
I jam the key in the lock and yank open the back door to Dough You Believe in Magic, practically dragging both of them inside before I lock it again. Only then do I pull my phone from my pocket after setting the still ‘dead’ Gus down in his bowl where it’s safe.
As I dial the phone, Ash asks, “Who are you calling?”
The last shifter in Moonburrow I want to talk to right now—and the only one I can. “I’ve gotta call Riordan. He’s in charge until the sheriff gets back. He has to know what just happened.”
Despite the early hour, Riordan answers on the second ring.
“Roxy? What happened?”
How nice. The Beta has my number saved as a contact; either that, or he recognized the digits, which doesn’t bode too well for me regardless.
“Morning to you, too. And while I’d normally be offended you just assume something bad happened because I’m calling you, in this case you’re right. Somebody just took shots at us while we were on Main, heading to Honey’s bakery.”
The line goes instantly silent before he says in a tight voice, “Did anyone get hit?”
“Only Ashton. Me and Gus are okay.”
“And the ghost?”
I glance at Ash, sighing in relief when I see that the holes from earlier have closed up. “The bullets went through him, but I guess there’s one positive to being a ghost. He can’t die twice.”
“Any idea who did it? You get a look at the shooter? Or a scent?”
“I wish. But it happened too fast, and by the time I figured out someone was firing a fucking gun, all I could smell was gunpowder.”
Guns are human weapons. Shifters and vamps rely on their claws and fangs. Witches have their spells. Only non-supes rely on weapons like guns. I’d even understand a silver knife due to a shifter’s intolerance to the metal, but a gun? What the hell?
Humans aren’t allowed in Moonburrow, though. The warding spell keeps them out. Which means whoever shot at us was welcomed by the city… I just don’t know who it could be.
“Where are you at? Did you make it to the bakery?”
“Yeah. All three of us did.”
“Good. Stay there. I’m on my way. I’ll bring a couple of packmates to see if we can follow the shooter’s trail. Gunpowder is powerful, but we can track that at least.”
“Thank you, Riordan.”
“Don’t mention it. You may be a pain in the ass, Roxy, but Moonburrow would be a much boring town without you in,” deadpans Riordan. “And I’m glad Gus is okay. He’s a good little guy.”
So is Ash.
I’m just about to end the call when Riordan adds, “I almost forgot to tell you. I was gonna call you later to let you know, but the cursebreaking witch is on a flight right now. She’ll be landing sometime this afternoon and renting a car to get to Moonburrow.”
She’s a witch. Shouldn’t she be able to whip up a transportation spell to zip her all over the country? Then again, it seems as though her specialty is curses. Maybe other witches can do transport and she sticks with human-style travel.
I know Ash needs to be whole again. Even if I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if those bullets hit him if he was…
we’re shifters. We can heal almost anything except for decapitation or if silver is involved in a fatal wound.
He would’ve been okay, and I’d much rather stop worrying about him disappearing on me.
I make arrangements for Riordan to bring the witch to my place as soon as she arrives, then hang up.
Ash cocks his head. “What was that last part about?”
I reach out, grabbing the collar of the buttondown shirt beneath his sweater and giving it a tweak. I tell him about what Riordan said, about staying inside and Penelope’s arrival, then add, “Look at that. You could be all better by tonight.”
He bites down on his bottom lip. His ghostly thumb goes to my side, caressing me. “Maybe. But what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Someone cursed me, Roxy. But someone just tried to kill you.”
Oh, right. “Don’t worry about me, babe. I’ll be fine.”
Claws crossed.