Chapter 13 #2
“No, but there is a census,” Matilda snapped, “and Fayet’s population of practitioners is a big fat zero. Everyone in town with a hint of ability knows the line’s not flowing the way it should, and I’d bet my eyeteeth those things are the reason.”
Crap. Jena chewed her lip. The power in that leyline ran east to west. If the turbines were somehow blocking the flow of power, it would track that the node had felt so much stronger, and why it was leaking power. Maybe it wasn’t wild. Maybe it was just constipated.
Jena bit back a laugh at that visual. “No wonder the node’s pissy.” And maybe that’s why they were having so much trouble finding another guardian for it. It didn’t sound like any of the other candidates had been very successful in the protection department.
The coven members all glanced at her like it was somehow her fault, and she blew out a big breath, forcing a smile. “Okay,” she clapped her hands together, “give me a sec to get my spellbag.”
She left the kitchen and hurried to her room before she really stepped in it.
Stupid visual or not, it wasn’t a laughing matter.
The Havers’s node drew raw power from the sea and funneled it into three separate leylines before it sent it west to the next node somewhere past Glidden, three counties over.
All that power had to go somewhere. If the node couldn’t hold it and let go, Havers-by-the-Sea would be on the bottom of it.
“Not my problem…” she muttered, trying to convince herself. But it wasn’t, was it? God, she had enough on her plate. Her stomach churned. Okay, fine. Maybe it was, but—later. She would deal with it later. It’d lasted this long, right? Right.
Ugh! Then why did she still feel like a jerk? She didn’t have time for this. Eastside. She was going with Felix and Kelsey to Eastside to figure out how to save Chase. The node could wait another day or two, and besides, Chase fixed stuff. Maybe he could figure out what to do with the stupid thing.
She snorted. Yeah, because that was just like remodeling a bathroom.
A wave of Chase’s pheromones hit her as she opened her door, and Jena choked back a sob, pointedly not looking at the still-rumpled bed. How could they just take him like that? He’d been so worried about her, but if it was him that Malcom had been talking about back at the cabin…God. What a mess.
She grabbed her spellbag from under her desk.
Aside from gathering herbs the other day, she hadn’t worn it here, but it’d been her constant companion in the city, mainly because the city had been rife with sin.
She hadn’t expected it in Havers. Well, nothing worse than Harvey Keels cheating on his wife, or Judy Hoil stealing from the tip jar.
She definitely hadn’t expected to run afoul of Malcom or whatever was up at those ruins.
Jena slipped the strap over her head, its reassuring weight settling against her. She could do this.
She headed back to the sitting room. Felix and Kelsey stood by the kitchen talking with Sweets. Jena forced a smile. “Okay, I’m ready.” She wasn’t, but personal preference didn’t seem like something the universe was going to factor in.
“The three of us will stay here until you get back,” Sweets said.
“We want to strengthen the shop’s wards.
” She glanced at Aggie sitting with her eyes closed in one of the big chairs and lowered her voice.
“And I don’t like the way she’s sounding.
I sent Otis for supplies. There’s a potion or two I’m planning on pouring down her miserable gullet whether she’s willing or no. ”
“Thank you.” Jena choked back tears. That was Sweets’s expertise, and the woman brewed up some miraculous things. “She’s being awful about going to Klineville General. You’re welcome to use whatever you can find here, but I’ll warn you, it’s slim pickings.”
“You don’t say.” Sweets cocked a brow at the heap of prickly herb dust at the top of the garbage.
“Not for nothing,” Kelsey said, “but you wouldn’t have been able to get past Fayet. The packs have closed borders, and with Chase’s pheromones all over you, there’s not a chance they’d let you through.”
“There’s seriously a were blockade going out of town?” Jena asked.
Kelsey nodded. “Yeah, the Eastside is locked down, too. Some of the younger guys got into it the other day with the Westside pack. Things are tense.”
Great. The bell for the door below rang as someone else entered the shop.
Footsteps shuffled up the steps, and Mr. Fynbender came in a moment later hefting an overflowing milk crate and a loaded canvas tote slung over his shoulder.
He closed the door after himself and threw the deadbolt.
Jena’s stomach dropped at the look on his face as he turned.
“I don’t think they’re just after Chase,” he said. “Your shop is being watched.”
Chase buzzed his lips and tossed another stone against the wall. It rebounded and plunked into the steadily rising water. He was freezing, and his skull throbbed with the hum of energy around him—enough that it’d started screwing with his eyes.
Weird flashes of light spiked his vision, and his nausea was worse.
Whatever that sound was, it was driving him nuts, and it wasn’t the only thing setting him on edge.
The small hairs on the back of his neck still prickled with the feeling of being watched, though he was pretty sure whatever that’d been had passed… if it’d ever really been there.
His grasp on reality was slipping, and that scared the shit out of him.
He blew out a breath and tipped his head back, trying to focus on the circle of sky above.
It’d gotten darker, another wave of rain rolling in.
A lengthening ellipse of faint light had steadily crept down the western side of the hole and made a ninety degree turn as it hit the pool. Noon. It had to be close to noon.
Jena had to be freaking out. God, if she thought he’d abandoned her after last night, she’d never speak to him again.
His stomach churned at the possibility, and his wolf whined.
Chase chucked another rock, swearing as it plunked below the surface.
He wet his lips and frowned at the pool, seriously considering lapping the walls.
No way was he drinking the cholera-infested mess he was sitting in, but the fact that it was there was killing him.
What the hell was the point of sticking him down here? It wasn’t like Malcom couldn’t lock him up somewhere in the pack manor. Chase knew damned well his father’d had a sound-proof room installed in the basement when the house was built.
So did that mean his father didn’t know Malcom had taken him? Seemed unlikely…or maybe they were trying to keep it from his mother, but that didn’t make sense either. Not with how hot she’d been on planning this stupid wedding. Him disappearing would make her mental.
He clambered to his feet and splashed around the perimeter. A dozen steps. Chase looked up again. He’d already tried to claw up the side and fucked himself up royally. Had to be C40 or the UPHC they used for high compression civil jobs—
Wait a minute.
Absolutely nothing in this town would require concrete with that kind of tensile strength, except those fucking wind turbines they were putting in.
Jesus. He had to be stuck at the bottom of one of the deep foundations for the eyesores the mayor was crowing about at the last public hearing.
Asshole had been all gung-ho about them making the town energy independent, but the federal grant had dried up, and all he’d done was piss away the surplus the last administration had left him with.
People were livid at staggering amount of bonded debt and the hazard to public safety the unfinished the project represented.
The next mayor was gonna have their work cut out for them, unless there were enough idiots in this town to actually reelected Chambers.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities, considering how cozy he and Chase’s father had been the other night.
Chase wouldn’t be surprised if Chambers’s reelection campaign was getting an abrupt influx of cash with their bullshit agreement.
Asshole should be in jail. That hum…it had to be the leyline, and the coven was spot on about the turbines fucking with it. Nothing about it felt right, and without any magical ability, he shouldn’t be feeling it at all. No wonder they’d been so pissed.
Chase ran a shaky hand over his mouth and scratched his stubbled jaw, trying to focus.
Damn, he wished he’d thumbed through that portfolio his father had tossed at him.
What else had been in there? His father supporting Chambers’s reelection would make sense if Chase was married to Crystal, but the bullshit she’d spewed about being handed the pack didn’t.
He chewed his lip. The more he thought about it, the more that bothered him.
No way would his father give alpha up without being put down.
And Wallace’s ambition notwithstanding, Chase’s mother would slice his father’s throat herself before she allowed that to happen.
She was way too invested in being the alpha female to step aside for Crystal.
So why did Crystal think she was getting handed the pack?
Chase swore, kicking himself again for not reading the damned thing.
It didn’t matter. Jena. He had to get back to Jena.
Chase’s anxiety ticked up, his heart rate increasing with his nausea.
If he was right about where he was, he’d also been right about no one stumbling over him.
The entire hillside had been clearcut and gated off with an eight-foot chain-link fence.
The nearest neighborhood was Sunnyside, and no one was gonna be out this way for a stroll.
Fuck, fuck, fuck—move, he had to move. He began pacing again, pushing his nausea down, the lack of anything to occupy him steadily chipping away at his composure. A laugh burbled up his throat, fur sprouting and retracting, way too close to losing his shit.
The reno, think about the reno…
The fireplace at Jena’s shop. He’d need to remove that brass surround first. Probably would have to lube the screws before he messed with them, otherwise the drives would deform.
Flathead, 3/16th screwdriver, no—five millimeter.
Soak them to clear the threads of gunk and reuse.
Then knock what patina he could off the surround with a nylon wire brush.
Anything harder might score the metal. A medium fine prep disk, mushroom scuff pad…
He splashed back down to sit, his breath smoothing as he went through the process in his mind, polishing each twist and turn the metal took until it gleamed, bright brass resolving from beneath the dull brown tarnish.
By the time he mentally set it aside, his heart rate had returned to normal, and his clammy skin prickled with cold.
His anxiety waned, and Chase tipped his head against the wall, exhaustion dragging at him.
His eyelids drooped. The coal basket would be more work. The ash cover was missing a knob, but he could turn a new one easily enough in the shop…
Chase’s mind went through the motions, his vision of what the fireplace would look like slowly taking shape, his fingertips and lips tingling as his eyes closed and darkness took him.