Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (26 page)

“Well then, let’s get a move on.” The captain stepped aside and motioned for me to lead the way.

“Right, sure,” I stammered. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I realized I wasn’t totally positive that Fletcher had done what I’d asked. For all I knew, he had broken his thrice-bound promise and killed the bastard. Not that I would blame him. But without Tollis, the blame would fall on the city Alpha, and I was terrified to think about what would happen to Jameson for these crimes. I forced myself to walk, leading the human police to where I hoped Tollis was.

Chapter 18

We found Tollis chained to one of the wagons where I’d left him, but Fletcher was nowhere to be found. I stood back among the shadows of the first two wagons and watched the police creep forward. Spencer stood in front of me and slightly to the side. I realized he was positioning himself in front of me like a guard, but before I could think about that, I heard the metallic
click
of a collar.

They’d chosen to collar Tollis before taking him down from the wagon. A sickly sweet and vaguely familiar smell curled into my nose. Both Spencer and Jameson sneezed violently as they tried to get the smell out of their overly sensitive noses. The chains around Tollis were silver, and they were burning his skin. You never forget the smell of burning flesh. Ever.

“Jesus Christ,” one of the closer cops swore and spat on the ground.

The officers were trying to cover their mouths and noses with the crooks of their arms while struggling to get the chains off Tollis, but it was clumsy work.

“Oh, for the love of toads,” I yelled behind my own hand. “
Eximo expedio
!” I flung my hand in Tollis’s direction. With a bone-jarring squeal, the chains twisted and ripped apart. Tollis’s unconscious body fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

“Hmph,” the captain said, looking at me over his shoulder.

A hot point of pain ignited behind my eyes, warning me that I was using up way too much energy. That was why I stuck to potions and charms—they didn’t take anything from me. I was in dire need of a rejuvenation elixir, a long hot bath, and two—or maybe three—fingers of whiskey.

“So this is the man who caused all these troubles?” the captain asked as he bent over Tollis’s face.

A part of me wanted to pull him back. Collar or no, Tollis wasn’t a wolf to underestimate.

“I am afraid so,” Jameson said, stepping forward. His overwhelming presence was enough to make the circle of cops step back from the unconscious wolf.

I breathed a little easier then.

“Ms. Kavanagh?” Spencer drew my attention with his hushed voice.

I looked at him, but he hadn’t taken his eyes off his Alpha and the threat on the ground. “Yes?” I whispered back.

“You wouldn’t happen to know if…” Spencer cleared his throat. Only one thing ever made Spencer lose his composure, even if only for a second.

“Oh, sunnovahobgoblin!” I cursed, spinning and looking toward the festival. “Ronnie.” I glanced back at Spencer and saw the same worry etched on his face that was pounding through me. My legs became cement as I realized I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to leave. Not knowing if Ronnie was alive or not made the small prick of pain in my head blossom into a black hole of agony.

“Let’s get him up,” the captain said.

“Thank the gods,” I whispered, realizing they were getting ready to move.

I felt the energy humming off Spencer’s body. He, too, was desperate to go search for my missing friend. I prayed wherever Ronnie was, we’d find Joey too, but if I had to, I could leave Spencer to look for Ronnie while I looked for the bubblegum-pink pixie.

“Should we use these?” one officer asked as he jingled the silver chains.

When I looked at him, I saw a cruel smile curling over his lips. After what Tollis had put everyone through, I didn’t blame him for wanting to do something like that, but it was still torture. Human cops still didn’t treat supernaturals like equals.

“Real fucking funny,” I snapped. “Because we all know you would bind a human psychopath with barbed wire, right?”

The cop glared at me, his smile melting away. His lips pressed into a thin white line, and I saw the muscles in his jaws jumping.

“All right, all right,” the captain said, stepping between us to break our staring contest. “Let’s get moving. Pick him up.”

The captain jerked a thumb at Tollis and watched as two officers, not the one with the chains, hauled him off the ground. Jameson, Spencer, and I stood back, letting them lead the way out of the circle of abandoned wagons. Two cops waited for us to move before they took up the rear. I guessed they didn’t trust us to walk behind them without trying to do them harm or run away. Whatever, I didn’t care. I just wanted to get back to the park and look for my friends.

Spencer was having a difficult time not breaking into a full-out run, but I knew he knew better. He would look pretty damn guilty if he suddenly ran away from our police escort.

“Excuse me, officer?” I said, slowing my pace until I was walking side-by-side with one of the two following us. “Some of our friends are still missing. Are we going to be able to look for them?”

“Probably, after we take down all your contact information and maybe your statements. Depends on the captain, really.”

I paled at the idea of giving a statement. That would probably take hours. What if Ronnie was lying in a puddle of her own blood somewhere? What if she was hanging on by a thread, and if I got to her in time, she’d be okay? But because I had to give a statement, I would arrive too late? Spots appeared in my vision as the pain in my head grew.

When we got back to the festival, healing, cleansing smoke was running off of the Great Bonfire in waves. A cloud of white-and-gray smoke rolled over me, and the pain in my head eased. I could see clearly again, and I saw a group of Weres collared and sitting in a circle near the base of the Bonfire. I recognized a few of Jameson’s wolves, and a finger of panic ran up my back.

“Excuse me, sir,” Jameson’s rumbling voice pulled the officers to a stop. “I’m afraid you have a few of my pack members unlawfully restrained.”

“Mr. McKendrick, we have no way of knowing which Weres are yours and which are not,” one officer said.

I was surprised the officer knew Jameson’s name. “That is untrue, and we all know it,” I snapped, unable to contain my anxiety.

“You need to calm down, ma’am,” the same officer said.

Power snapped at my fingers. “Did you just call me ma’am?”

Spencer put a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back.

“She is correct,” Jameson said, stepping in front of me to block my view of the offending officer. “All of my pack is registered with the city. You only need to run their information to verify who they are.”

“And we will,” the captain said, taking over for the idiot who’d called me ma’am. “But until we are able to get all of the Weres and the, uh, well, whatever they are organized, we err on the side of caution.”

Spencer’s hand moved on my shoulder, gripping it a little too tight for my liking. We couldn’t really argue with their logic. In the melee, the police couldn’t have been sure who was who. But none of us liked seeing innocent people in collars. My throat tightened just looking at them.

The next hour was a blur. I was escorted away from the Weres and back down the fairway to the entrance to the park. Collared Weres walked past me, toward the group we’d left, under guard. I supposed they were trying to separate all the werewolves from everyone else to sort things out and figure out who were victims, heroes, and villains. At the entrance to the park, they’d set up a huge police perimeter to keep everyone there. I had never seen so many cops in one place. I squinted against the strobe lights.

The officer escorting me let me sit on the curb, but I couldn’t help looking for Ronnie’s bright orange hair or Joey’s shock of pink. I was sure one of them would stand out in the crowd, but there were just too many people. The officer had to keep repeating his questions because I couldn’t focus. I asked him more than once if I could just go find my friends and give my statement later, but he always said no. Finally he realized my statement was pretty important, and he radioed for a couple of detectives to come interview me.

I groaned and flopped back onto the grass, rubbing my temples, when the detectives asked the
exact same questions
. It was probably only an hour, but it felt like an eternity before the detectives finally told me I could go but not to leave the perimeter yet. I was already on my feet and running when they yelled that I could expect a phone call in the very near future.

I didn’t care. I only cared about finding one redheaded witch and one pink-haired pixie. I weaved in and out of groups, checking each face as I went. I was terrified I’d miss Ronnie and Joey if I wasn’t careful. I heard people moaning in pain, and I deviated my path toward the sounds. When I broke through a group of tree nymphs, I stumbled upon the makeshift triage area.

All along that stretch of road and sidewalk were people lying on the ground. Some were just dazed and staring into the night sky, but others were much, much worse. Witches and paramedics were working on the worst injuries, missing limbs, and profuse bleeding. I saw one small boy missing a large chunk of his stomach. His face was pale, too pale, but he wasn’t screaming. I wasn’t even sure if he was still alive, but the witch hovering over him kept chanting her healing spell while a pair of paramedics tried to stanch the bleeding. Someone was screaming for an ambulance, but the cop cars were blocking the roads. None could get through.

I ran between the lines of the wounded, searching for familiar faces. I saw people I knew, fairies and vampires and brownies and goblins and witches and wizards, but none of them were the two faces I was so desperate to find. A stitch was forming in my chest and tears were welling in my eyes, but I wouldn’t give over to the creeping defeat. I reminded myself that if Ronnie and Joey weren’t among the wounded, then that was a good thing.

Unless they’re among the dead,
an evil little voice in my head said. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head, trying to dislodge that little bastard. Before I opened my eyes again, I crashed right into someone, sending us tumbling to the ground and scraping the heels of my palms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said. When I opened my eyes, my vision was filled with a cloud of brown curls.

The girl turned over, and I was looking into the face of Jane Doe, the girl who had tried to blow up my kitchen and had helped in the firefight at the gypsy encampment. Her wide brown eyes bulged when she realized who I was. She tried to scramble backward, out of my reach.

“You!” I lunged forward, throwing my body on top of hers.

But we were of a size, and my weight wasn’t enough to stop her. She struggled under me, shifting until I fell aside. She nearly got to her feet, but I was quick and grabbed her ankle, bringing her back down, hard, on her hands and elbows. She swore and kicked at me.

“You dirty bridge dweller!” I released a small bolt of power, striking her in the leg and making her squeal.

“Help!
Help
!” Jane kicked and clawed at me. “She’s trying to kill me!”

Those were the perfect words to yell just then. I tried to hit her to shut her up, but hands were on me, pulling me off her. Jane got to her feet and tried to run, but two uniformed police stopped her and held her just as I was being held.

“Ladies, we don’t have the man power for this right now,” the female officer holding me admonished.

“She attacked me,” I wheezed.

“No! She was trying to kill me. You saw her!” Jane was screaming at the top of her lungs, and all I wanted to do was backhand her across her pretty little face.

“Miss,” the woman said to Jane.

I couldn’t help but wonder why I was a ma’am but she was a miss. I mean, we weren’t
that
far apart in age. Jeeze.

“What are you doing out here anyway? We told you people to stay over there,” the officer said to Jane. She let me go to point at what could only be called a corral. It was full of humans, some still holding their picketing signs, some even chanting their protests.

“We are not the animals here,” Jane said, whipping her body back and forth, trying to break free. “They’re the animals! They should be the ones in cages!”

“Oh, for the love of frogs,” I muttered, shaking my head.

“Ma’am,” the female officer touched my shoulder, and I cringed. “Please head back that way.” She directed me back the way I’d come.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from voicing my opinion about why I wasn’t a “ma’am.” It seemed a stupid argument, all things considered. I concentrated my anger on stomping my feet as I walked away, and I almost didn’t hear my name being called.

My head snapped up, and finally I saw the two faces I had been so desperate to find. Joey reached me first. Her pixie speed nearly lifted her off the ground as she rushed ahead of Ronnie and crashed into me. Her thin arms wrapped around my neck, and she bounced up and down, squealing. Her tiny fuzzy dragon clacked his mouth in protest as his green claws gripped her shoulder desperately.

“Oh, thank the gods,” Ronnie breathed when she caught up to us.

Joey reluctantly stepped back so that Ronnie and I could embrace.

“When the first Moon Stricken appeared, we couldn’t find you.” Ronnie’s voice caught in her throat, and tears shimmered in her eyes.

I felt the bubble of worry in my chest burst. We were all okay, and that’s all that mattered. My horrifying thoughts of finding them dead or dismembered and dying faded, like waking after a bad dream. I held them both, my fingers curling into their wrists to assure myself that they were real and weren’t going to disappear again.

“Spencer is okay too,” I said.

A look of relief passed over Ronnie’s face. I didn’t think she had wanted to ask if I knew about his wellbeing. Maybe she was worried that I would be jealous if her thoughts were divided, but I wasn’t.

“Good.” She nodded and tried to sound matter-of-fact. “That’s good.”