Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) (10 page)

Or maybe he’s just better at cloak and dagger stuff than I am.

Besides, after I go and kill Lucy, do I really think Albert will let me put one foot back in his gym? I think I’ll be better off not making friends. Not learning to like exercise. I should probably just tell Allison no thank you the next time she offers to work out with me.

I’m surprised by how disappointed I feel with that decision. I guess I’m just full of surprises. I don’t know, maybe I can figure out a way to spend time with both Albert and Allison. Like, split my workouts between them? That way I’m not totally hating life the whole time I’m here, but I’m also working towards my goal of trying to see if I can get Albert on my side. I’ll have to think that over some more.

After my first dreadful experience of trying to get my clothes back on my sticky, sweaty body, I learned that it’s best to shower here. More comfortable. Less disgusting. I grab my towel and shower bag. As I undress, I find myself once again with Barnabe’s necklace half off before I change my mind and slip it back down around my neck. It’s currently all metal. A little water won’t hurt it, right?

The water feels so good, running down my body, washing away the sweat from today and the stress from last night. I let it beat against my neck and shoulders, hoping it’ll take away some of the tension I’m holding there. Last night was hard. Hell, today was hard. I probably wouldn’t have made it through my gym session if it wasn’t for Krystal and Melissa letting me take a little paid nap.

Damn.

I owe them.

On a whim, I flex my magical muscles a little, just kind of call on my power, ask for the tiger to wake up, and it’s like the lights dim inside me. Like a power surge, or too much of a drain on the grid, or whatever it is that causes lights in a house to fade. I feel awful. I let go of my magic and feel better as soon as I do. I’ll have to ask about that. At Windsor, they always likened training our magic to working out. Said it’s like a muscle that gets stronger with use.

What happens if you overuse it? Like I might have done last night? Does it get sore? Can magic be … I don’t know … injured?

I lean my head against the cool tile and sigh when I turn the water off. I think I could have stayed there all night. Hell, maybe I’ll take a bath when I get home. Unless I decide to go straight to bed. I’m not sure what sounds better.

I dry off and get dressed. It sure would be nice just to cast a quick little spell to dry my hair. Everyone here knows what I am, won’t matter if they can sense my magic. Besides, I don’t even know if wolves can sense magic like the vamps. You’d think Daya would have filled me in on this kind of stuff. It’s a little unnerving that I know so little about the very creatures she’s sending me out to destroy. I decide to give it a try, the magic on my hair. Kind of a two birds with one stone deal. First, my hair will be dry and second, I might get an idea if the wolves can sense my magic.

With a wave of my hand and a muttered incantation, I weave a simple little spell. Pain throbs through my head as my magic goes to work. Did I do the spell wrong? A quick check in the mirror finds my hair dry and carefully arranged. No malfunctions there. I put my hand on my head and wait for the throbbing to subside. Which it does. Slowly. That’s so strange. Maybe my magic really does need to rest.

It’s uncharacteristically quiet in the locker room and it makes me wonder how long I was in the shower. I pull out my phone to check the time and find my notification light blinking. That’s strange. No one calls or texts me anymore. Hell, I don’t even get email. Noah and Luke are the entirety of my social circle. If I’m not with them, I’m at work or on a mission for Daya. Or Barnabe. I’m really unclear as to who I’m actually working for.

All I know is that the notification light makes my stomach sink because I can’t think of a reason any of them would be trying to get in touch with me that isn’t bad. My heart does a little flip flop of happiness when I see who actually texted me. Mom. I instantly feel better and slide open my messaging app, eager to be in contact with her.

Hey, kiddo. Thanks for reaching out. Dad and I can’t wait to see you. xoxoxoxo Mom.

Part of me is chuckling that she still feels the need to sign each and every one of her texts like I don’t know who sent them to me. The other part is busy trying to figure out what in the world she means. Dread creeps into my stomach and does funny things to my headache. I didn’t reach out to Mom. I probably
should
have reached out to Mom. But I haven’t. And we don’t have any plans to see each other.

Unless she means over Christmas…?

I do a quick calculation, trying to remember what day it is and if I already managed to miss Christmas. I think it’s still mid-December sometime and I know we haven’t made any plans to see each other. What’s this about?

My mom and dad are planners through and through. Their calendar is filled in with tidy little notes months in advance. There’s no way they’d have an unconfirmed trip to see me. Especially one they hadn’t talked to me about.

Something is very wrong here.

I start to call her — her texting skills are abysmal, it’s not worth the frustration — but I’m not sure it’s wise to have this conversation in the locker room at the Wolf Den. I mean, like I said, I may be halfway into enemy territory here. I gather my things and stride through the gym, calling out a goodbye to Allison and Albert.

“Peace,” Xavier says to my back as I push through the front doors.

“Backatcha,” I call out without turning around.

As soon as I’m far enough away that I’m not worried about those wolves and their extra sensitive hearing, I pull out my phone. Time to call my mom and figure out what the hell is going on. My spidey-senses say that whatever it is, it can’t be good.

Of course, before I can hit the button that’ll call my mom, my phone starts buzzing, vibrating with another call. The ID says it’s Noah. Noah
never
calls. He always texts. Now my spidey-senses are on fire with all kinds of trepidation.

“What’s up?” I ask instead of saying hello.

“Get home now. Barnabe’s here. Unscheduled visit. He wants you here.”

“I’m on my way home. Just heading to the bus stop.”

“Nope. Skip the bus. He wants you here,
now
.”

Chapter Twelve

I hang up without telling Noah that my magic is pretty much exhausted. Without telling him about the flinchingly bad headache I got trying to dry my hair. Without telling him about the strange text from my mom. I shoot off a reply to her as I find a secluded place where no one will see me disappear when I cast my teleportation spell. I try to keep the text generic in case someone intercepts it or something, but also try to make sure she knows not to do anything until she talks to me.

I slip behind the side of a building and whisper the words to my teleportation spell. On top of the characteristic wrenching feeling, there’s this awful searing pain in my head as I finish the incantation. And now I’m in my living room and the lights are too bright and Barnabe’s pacing like a madman and it’s all just a little too much. I crouch. Put my head in my hands and groan.

There’s a flurry of activity and a lot of muffled talking. I can’t quite make it all out. Hell, I can’t quite open my eyes.

“What’s wrong with her?” That’s Luke and there’s so much concern in his voice it makes me mad.

“Her nose is bleeding.” That’s Noah and there’s even more concern in his voice and it makes me sad.

The world tilts all crazy-like and I recognize strong arms around my shoulders and under my knees. Someone’s picked me up off the floor. Well, isn’t that sweet?

Someone’s calling my name. A couple someone’s, I think. There’s this funny fluttery feeling in my chest and then I can’t really hear them anymore.

And then there’s a zing of fluid energy that rushes through my body like cleansing fire and soothing rain. It’s followed by a jolt. A shock. A shot of espresso right to my heart.

My eyes are open and I’m sitting upright and there’s something wet on my mouth. I drag my hand over my lips and pull it away to find it covered with blood.

“Why am I bleeding?”

Barnabe’s crouched in front of me, Luke and Noah standing behind him. “That’s a good question, my dear.” His voice is taut, like a rubber band wrapped around thick hair, but his eyes are alive with a light that makes me feel calm. “What happened?”

I think really hard. What did happen? Where was I before I was here? Oh that’s right, I was leaving the gym. I remember the text from my mom, the call from Noah, and the searing pain in my head when I used the teleportation spell.

“Can magic be strained?” I look Barnabe right in those super calming eyes of his when I ask the question.

“If it feels like a strain then it’s too challenging a spell.” Barnabe looks confused as he rattles off the line they used to death in the beginning classes at Windsor. Noah has a seat on the armrest of the couch near my feet.

“Right, right, right.” I brush off the generality and sit forward in my chair. “But if you cast too many spells, can you … I don’t know … overuse your magic?”

“Explain,” Barnabe commands and I do. While I’m talking, Noah leaves and comes back bearing a wet cloth, gesturing that I should use it to clean my nose and mouth. Luke sits on the coffee table and his dragon pops into existence and perches on his shoulder.

When I finish explaining, Barnabe looks relieved. “This is a simple problem that can be easily fixed.” His face goes all stern. “And could have been avoided if you’d been using your Memenderat each night.”

Despite the fact that I didn’t know I was required to write in my Memenderat each night, I feel like I’ve been caught disobeying a direct order.

“Whatever.” Barnabe straightens, and resumes pacing in that oddly swift and graceful way of his. “I didn’t come here to talk about basic magic with you. I came here to understand what happened last night.” He stops pacing and I wonder how old he is. And isn’t that a strange thing to think about right now? “Lucy is all worked up. I can only assume it has something to do with you.”

Together, the three of us fill Barnabe in on what I found in Andrew’s head last night. When we’re done, he honest to goodness claps his hands. “Oh, good. She’s taking it all in, hook, line, and sinker.”

Luke flings a piece of paper at his dragon “So, wait,” he says as his dragon snorts a fireball at the paper and it disintegrates to ash. “You
want
Lucy to know who we are and what we’re doing?”

“Of course.” Barnabe turns and hits Luke with a look that has his hands dropping into his lap. “Do you really think she’d know if I didn’t want her to know?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a voice go from congenial to chilling that quickly before. Thank God it wasn’t directed at me. I might have fallen over from discomfort.

“I wish you would have told us.” That was Noah, uncharacteristically quiet.

Barnabe waves his hands and rolls his eyes. “It’s not for the sword to know the what’s or why’s of things. Leave that to the one making the decisions. The sword strikes where the master tells it. Plus you know, blah blah, liability, blah blah, the less you know the less you can spill if you get caught. All that stuff.”

It irks me that he’s so blasé about putting our lives at risk. OK. So maybe that’s putting it lightly. It pisses me the hell off. I am more than tired of being some pawn in this game. Acting on the whims of someone who knows more than me about what’s going on. Someone who, in all probability, cares very little for me at all and would say something like ‘that’s a shame’ if I died.

Barnabe whirls on me. “Take that back.” His eyes are no longer calming. Adrenaline roars through my system and mingles with the anger that’d been rising and I start to see little flecks of red in the corners of my vision.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Take. That. Back.” Barnabe punctuates each word with a jerk of his head.

I should probably bow out gracefully here, given how terrified everyone is of this guy. OK, given how terrifying he actually is. Standing here in front of me, he’s got the tiger roaring inside me, begging for permission to come out and step between us. He’s got my heart racing and my chest heaving. I should probably just pretend that I know what he’s talking about and apologize.

But I don’t.

“Take. What. Back?”

Barnabe is in front of me, his finger on my chin, tilting it upwards so I can watch as he lowers his face just inches from mine. “It would
devastate
me if you died. More than
a shame.
It’d be a downright
tragedy
.”

Again, I probably should pull an Old Zoe and shut the hell up right now. Blush. Look down. Do the whole demure damsel in distress thing.

But I don’t.

“You’re gonna hold me accountable for the things I
think
?” I stand up, pushing my face into his, trying to hide my surprise when he actually straightens up and gets out of my way. “After all this,” I wave my hand around trying to indicate my life, “you’re gonna get mad at me when I don’t trust your intentions? When I’ve done nothing but find deception after deception regarding who and what I am? After I find myself out there, being
your sword,
following
your
orders, only to find out that I lack important information about my enemy? You have the audacity to come into my house and yell at me for what I’m
thinking
?”

Magic surges through me and little black spots join the little red spots in the corners of my vision. My nose is bleeding again, and I don’t want to think about what I feel trickling out of my ears. I need to calm down.