12—Bring Aila Home
Late that night, Dallas bent over a lathe in the workshop of the magical house, working on something that seemed incredibly important, but he didn’t know why.
On the beach, that night he’d been shot, before everything had gone bad, he’d found a shiny glass tube the size of an eyeglass case.
His buddy had said it was fulgurite—glass naturally created when lightning strikes sand.
He’d put it in his cargo pocket, and it’d miraculously survived the gunshot and the chaotic rescue that’d followed.
He’d kept it, never knowing why, until today. When he’d returned to the house after talking with Maze and Thorn and meeting the ghostly Warrior Woman, he’d had a strong impulse to get the fulgurite and then he’d wandered the house until he’d found the workshop. He’d been working there ever since.
Dallas held up what he had made. He’d walked in, not sure what he was going to do, but when he’d found a drawer full of knife blanks, he’d had the urge to make a knife.
He’d encased the tube of lightning sand in clear resin, and fastened it onto a knife blank, then shaped it until it was perfect.
He gripped it, confirming it was too small for his hand.
Dallas dropped it on the workbench and stared at it contemplatively. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the weapon Aven had made for his sister and heard it was called a Resonant, and it was supposed to be more enticing than jewelry to switches. So who had he made a weapon for?
He didn’t dare hope it was the gorgeous glowing lawyer.
Dallas pocketed the item and set about cleaning up his workstation. His phone rang.
“Yeah,” Dallas answered.
“It’s Jameson. What happened with Thorn?”
“Not much. He claims he’s got an everweft spell from a ‘voodoo’ healer in New Orleans named Mama Soline. He wouldn’t shift, though. He didn’t tell us anything and tried to ask us questions about ‘The Cause.’”
“And?” Jameson’s voice was full of anger.
“And nothing—he took off mad and we didn’t get anything out of him.”
“Shit,” Jameson growled.
“Warrior Woman showed up, though.”
“You’re kidding.” Jameson’s voice changed from hostile to interested.
“I never kid.”
Dallas pulled the cuff Warrior Woman had given him out of his pocket and looked at it. Tell Jameson? It didn’t feel right. He put it back in his pocket, wanting to ask his own questions.
“What about your lawyer?” Dallas asked. “Is she part of the operation?”
“What operation?”
“You know, ‘The Cause.’”
“No.”
“Even though she’s a switch?”
“Bonhi’s not a switch,” Jameson grumped, finality in his tone.
Dallas didn’t say anything, feeling oddly crushed.
“My other line’s ringing,” Jameson said. He hung up.
Dallas put the phone back in his pocket, retrieved his rag, and continued to wipe down the lathe.
Just as Dallas was finishing up, Aven walked in, his feet bare. He wore sweats and no shirt and looked relaxed as hell.
“Who’s Aila?” Aven asked.
“What?”
“You wrote Bring Aila home on the chalkboard in the kitchen.”
“Wasn’t me,” Dallas grunted. “What the hell happened in the caves last night?”
“You first,” Aven said, sitting on a stool at the workbench. “Why’d you run off so fast?”
Dallas looked up at the ceiling. “It was fucking with my head, man—first the vampires and seeing all those women they fed from.”
Aven nodded. “The vampires inside the caves were waiting for the women but they got switches and shifters instead. There were two twin vampires, real Count Chocula motherfuckers, wearing suits, with crazy blond and black hair, and they seemed to know me, and they definitely knew Maze.”
“Dude!” Dallas lightly punched Aven in the chest. “Maze fucking smells like Cage.” Cage had been Aven’s buddy, too, back when they’d been three lone shifters in military units full of humans.
Aven stood and grabbed Dallas by the upper arms, shaking him. “You got it! I didn’t know if I should tell you or not. I wanted to see if you smelled it on your own.”
Dallas nodded and Aven relaxed and sat back down. Dallas sat across from him on another stool.
“He scents just like him,” Dallas said, “but I thought that wasn’t possible. I thought it was like fingerprints.”
Aven nodded. “I thought the same… until now. Those vampires in the cave hated Maze. I know you were shot with a bloodbullet, and I think those two were involved. They had bloodblades in their hands.
Dallas shot to his feet. “Are you fucking with me?”
“Nope,” Aven said, shaking his head.
“Shit,” Dallas said, heading for the door. “Can we find them? Kill them?”
Aven didn’t move. “Only a switch can kill a vampire.”
“Dakota!” Dallas shouted.
“She’s sleeping, finally,” Aven said, waving him back to his seat. “But we can’t find the vampires.”
“We don’t know where they live?”
“No, and they can phaze—just disappear and travel from place to place instantly.”
“Fuck.” Dallas sat and thought, then he remembered something. “Last night, did the women that got out of that van look strange to you?”
“Strange how?”
“… blurry?” Dallas said, knowing how he sounded.
Aven smiled. “Is this a joke?”
Dallas shook his head. “Serious.”
Aven’s smile faded and concern replaced it. “No, they looked normal.”
“Oh,” Dallas said. Aven probably thought he was getting soft in the head. He changed the subject, pulling the cuff out of his pocket and handing it over.
“Warrior Woman came while me and Maze were talking to Thorn. She gave me that, and she attacked Maze with magical snakes when he tried to touch it.”
Aven searched his face like he was looking to see if Dallas was bullshitting him. Dallas shook his head. “Swear, Skree.”
Aven turned it over in his hands, examining the symbols. “What does it say?” he asked.
Dallas shrugged.
“Did you tell Jameson?” Aven asked.
Dallas shook his head. “I told him about Warrior Woman, but not the cuff.” He gave his friend a grave look. “I don’t know why, but it didn’t feel right.”
Aven spread his hands. “He’s the boss. He needs to know, especially something like this.”
Dallas nodded. “Okay. Okay.”
He would tell Jameson… when it seemed relevant.