Black Rook (21 page)

He held her shoulder a little tighter, then let go and sat back. Brynn concentrated wholly on the road and making their escape at a reasonable speed limit. She had a gun on the front seat, no license on her, a car registered to a dead wolf, and two wounded loup in her backseat. Getting pulled over was not something she needed tonight.

What she really needed was a few minutes in private to quietly break down, then pull herself back together.

Farther away, then we stop. Soon.

***

After two hours of nonstop driving, Brynn found a roadside motel off I-81 in Pennsylvania that looked like they wouldn’t mind a two a.m. registration from a frazzled woman who wanted to pay cash. Of the three of them, Knight was the only one with his wallet, and they didn’t want to risk using his credit card. No one knew the extent of Fiona’s reach, or how desperate she would be to track them tonight. Brynn was happy to defer to his judgment in covert matters where she was still a novice, despite her knowledge of such things in books. This wasn’t one of her beloved novels; this was real.

I’m a tutor, not a spy
.

Only one other car was in the lot of their motel when Brynn pulled up in front of number seven. Rook didn’t protest his brother’s help inside the musty room. Brynn’s skin crawled at the general untidiness of the motel, with its awful brown wallpaper and plaid bedspreads and water strains on the ceiling tiles. Fortunately, the plan was to stay only until dawn and then begin the drive home. Vampires were susceptible to daylight; this gave them an advantage in about six hours.

Rook listed toward the first double bed, but Knight dragged him to the rear where the bathroom door stood open. “Wanna sleep,” Rook said. The whine in his voice struck her with its desperation and helplessness. She wanted to hug him, to drive that pain away, but Knight knew what he needed now more than she did.

“I know, pal,” Knight said, “but you’re still feverish and we need to take care of those wounds. Brynn, help me.”

She scooted around them and turned the light on in the smallish bathroom, illuminating gaudy yellow tiles.

***

A fogging mirror in a yellow-tiled bathroom. Steam rising. A hand wipes away the condensation. He stares at his reflection. Touches the mirror. He closes his eyes. Tears spill down his cheeks.

“Brynn?”

She jumped, then moved back so Knight and Rook could go inside. This was the bathroom from her vision, she was sure of it. For some reason, her power had intruded upon a private moment for Knight, possibly a silent breakdown from the stress of everything he’d endured tonight. She couldn’t imagine the fear of a missing sibling, knowing they were being tormented by known murderers.

Knight deposited Rook on the toilet seat. “Listen, I need to run out to a drugstore and get a few things,” he said. “Brynn, can you get him into a cold bath while I’m gone? We need to keep the fever down.”

Get Rook into a bath? Is he insane?

“Of course. Is going out a good—?”

“Dr. Mike taught us all a trick for dealing with severe silver poisoning if we were unable to get to him right away. I can’t get what I need out of the vending machine, okay?” He snapped the last few words, as close to losing it as she’d ever seen—even more so than yesterday in Thomas’s office, when he discovered she’d poisoned Rook. His wide eyes begged her to do what he asked and stop questioning him.

She held up the car keys. “Be careful.”

“Always.”

He left with a hard slam of the door.

Brynn pulled the tub’s plastic curtain back and turned on the cold water. A heavy chemical smell wafted up, then cleared as the pipes emptied. After the odor was gone, she pulled the plug up and let the stained ivory tub fill. Rook sat quietly while she tugged off his t-shirt, mindful of his raw wrists and neck. Just below the circle of wounds around his throat, she spotted what looked like healing punctures—the vampire’s bites from her vision.

The rage she thought she had dispelled came back full-force, directed squarely at the women who’d hurt Rook. She hated seeing him in so much pain and being unable to take it away. Hated knowing her visions had come too late to save him and Knight this torment storming in both of their eyes.

So many visions occurring in such a short amount of time confused her. What was it about being among the loup garou that caused them in such rapid succession? She’d never had this many about the Magi in so short a time period. And these recent visions had all, in some way, involved her.

Rook’s fingers circled her right wrist and tugged. Her pulse jumped at the contact. She looked down into his beautiful brown eyes flecked with bits of copper. Eyes that burned with both fever and something she couldn’t name. Something she was too scared to even consider. He turned his hand around so he could clasp hers, the chill of his skin quickly warmed by the heat of her own.

“You came for us,” he said.

“I came for you.” She didn’t mean to say that, not out loud. “I owed you, Rook. Your life was much safer until I walked into town yesterday.”

“You didn’t cause this. Fiona would have attacked Stonehill no matter what you did. They’d have found a way to get to Knight.”

She frowned, digesting that bit of information. “Fiona wanted Knight?”

A look of pure hate crossed his face. “I was bait to trade for him.”

“That’s why he left town so suddenly without telling your father.”

“Yeah. How did you find us?”

“I had a few useful visions.” Useful to the loup garou, even if not the Magi. She described them briefly; the details could wait. “Before he arrived at the trailer, Knight made a hang-up call from a pay phone. We used the number to narrow down your location.”

“I can’t believe Father let you come after me.”

“I made a good case. Besides, the rest of his people were busy helping with the Potomac evacuation.”

Rook’s entire body jerked, and she half expected him to leap off the toilet seat. “Devlin, is he alive? What happened there?”

“He’s alive. He called your father after the attack. They have eighteen survivors.”

He closed his eyes, his face crumpling with grief.

“Jillian Reynolds took people down to collect them.” Brynn brushed her left hand through his short hair, wishing she had the right words to comfort him. His anguish filled the small bathroom, a bitter taste in her mouth that she wanted to wash away. She hated that he hurt this badly.

“I fished with some of them today,” he said with heartbreak in his voice. “So many were kids.”

“I’m so sorry, Rook.”

He didn’t reply. The tub was halfway full. She reluctantly released him and shut off the water, filling the room with an unexpected silence.

“You should take your pants off,” she said when nothing else seemed appropriate.

He blinked at her, startled. “What?”

“The bath.”

“Oh, right.”

She helped him balance while he took off his shoes, socks, and jeans, skimming down to just a pair of boxer briefs. She respectfully kept her eyeballs above chest height. The last thing she needed to do was ogle a half-naked man for whose physical health she was responsible. Anything beyond professionalism right now, with his body so weak and ravaged, was beyond inappropriate—no matter how attractive said body was. Or how much she wanted to see more of it.

Concentrate.

Goosebumps rose along his arms and back as he stepped into the chilly water and sat down. He didn’t complain, though. He seemed so defeated, and she hated that.

Instinct demanded she keep him talking until Knight returned with his supplies. She sat on the ledge of the tub and immediately regretted the vantage point when she noticed how see-through his briefs had become underwater. She blushed and shifted her gaze to a crack in the tile above his shoulder. “What does silver poisoning do to a loup garou?”

Rook lifted his left hand out of the water and examined the raw flesh circling his wrist. “Depends on exposure. Physical scarring. Too much time in the bloodstream can lead to cardiac arrest. Another hour or so like that and I’d have probably died.”

Her heart twisted hard at the idea of him dying in so much agony because she’d been too slow. She had certainly cut the timing close. “They weren’t going to let you go, were they? Even though Knight kept his word?”

“No, they would have let me go, I think. But Fiona seems to like word games, and Knight didn’t negotiate for her to remove the silver chains before she dumped me. She’d have set me free to die.”

“We’ll be certain to return the favor.”

Rook gave her a startled look she was certain her own face mirrored. Never before had such a blood-thirsty thing fallen from her lips. But she meant it in her heart, or she wouldn’t have said it. She was furious on Rook’s behalf. Fiona and Victoria had hurt him; they hurt Knight. She wanted to hurt them both back and with interest. For Rook, for herself, and for all of the loup garou they’d slaughtered in the last two days.

He studied her face with open curiosity, and she had the oddest notion that maybe he wanted to kiss her. She parted her lips, allowing her gaze to slide down—

The motel room door opened, then slammed shut. A plastic bag crinkled. Knight came into the bathroom, gave them a cursory glance, and started putting things on the counter. Three bottles of white vinegar, rolls of gauze, antibiotic ointment, medical tape, extra-strength ibuprofen, antibacterial body wash.

Most of those items made perfect sense, but— “Vinegar?” she asked.

Rook groaned. “Great, more smelly shit.”

“It’ll help reverse the toxicity of the silver in his open wounds,” Knight said. “Most people don’t know vinegar helps cuts heal.”

“Oh.” She stood up and eased out of the bathroom. “I don’t know much about first aid, or I’d offer to help.”

“That’s all right. I’ll take care of him.”

“Did you call home while you were out?” Rook asked.

Knight shook his head slowly, as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “I don’t have my phone.”

“I’ll check the car,” Brynn said. “I’m not sure if O’Bannen had his in his clothes, or if he left it in there.”

She took the room key from Knight. After a bit of searching, she found O’Bannen’s cell underneath the front passenger seat. Naturally, the slim piece of plastic wouldn’t turn on. She popped the glove compartment and said a quick prayer of thanks when a power cord revealed itself beneath a pile of takeout napkins and old insurance cards. She shoved the cord into the cigarette lighter, then slid the other end into the side of the phone. A few seconds later, the phone powered up.

Eight missed calls.

They hadn’t contacted McQueen in over an hour. He had to be frantic—or as frantic as he’d allow himself to get in the face of his run. She hit redial and didn’t have to wait for a full ring to complete.

“O’Bannen?” The strain McQueen was under was clear in his gruff voice, even after only one word.

“No, sir, it’s Brynn.”

“My sons?”

“We found them. They’re alive and away from the women who had them.” Saying the words, positive though they were, did nothing to relieve the pressure building in her chest.

Something creaked loudly, as though McQueen had fallen into a chair. “Thank God. Are they injured?”

“Knight was bitten by the vampire and has some scratches, but he seems all right now. Rook has silver poisoning. Knight’s taking care of it. We stopped at a motel for the night—”

“Don’t tell me where, just in case.”

“We’ll start back in the morning, after we’ve had a chance to rest.”

“Where’s O’Bannen? I told him to not take any action until—”

“We saw an opportunity to act and we took it, sir.” Had she really just interrupted the Alpha? “I, um, it was our best chance to get Rook and Knight away from them.”

McQueen was silent for an eternity. “O’Bannen was killed.”

Brynn’s throat closed. She shouldn’t be the one telling the Alpha that one of his enforcers had died. It wasn’t her place. She was an outsider, and she had only brought him trouble. “Yes, sir, he’s dead. I had to leave him behind. He was too big to move.”

“Your priority was to the living, I understand.”

“The vampire he fought was wounded. She didn’t stick around to prevent our escape, and I’m positive we weren’t followed. Only . . .”

“What is it?”

“She was incredibly fast, the vampire. I know they have good speed, but she was insanely quick.”

“Devlin reported the same thing about the Potomac attack. None of them acted or shifted like loup garou, and yet the scent markers remained. I have a feeling Rook will confirm that.”

“I’ll have him call you when he’s able.”

“It can wait until morning. He needs to rest and get that silver out of his system. And I want Bishop up to speed.”

“All right, morning.”

“Thank you, Ms. Atwood, for finding my sons.”

Pride warmed her chest. “You’re welcome.”

She ended the call, then put the phone down on the seat to continue charging. The pressure in her chest rose up and out in a loud sob, and she released the tears she’d been holding on to for hours. She dropped her face into her palms and cried—for the suffering and the loss, and for the heartbreak she knew was still yet to come. For her useless powers that had done nothing to save the loup garou family she was growing to care about.

She allowed herself the weakness for a few minutes, until she’d indulged long enough. Brynn sucked in deep breaths, forcing herself to calm down. Think rationally. Consider this new enemy. Fiona had gone through a lot of trouble to get Knight McQueen, and she wouldn’t give up after one minor setback. This deadly game was just getting started.

Chapter Fourteen

Rook hated the smell of vinegar almost as much as he hated bleach and lemon cleaner. His sense of smell had cautiously returned during the car trip north, only to be harassed again by some necessary wound cleansing. The cold vinegar bath had eased most of the pain from his neck and wrists, and it had reduced the ache of fever that made his head feel like one giant blister.

He still couldn’t quite believe that Brynn had come for him.