Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel (16 page)

BOOK: Wytchcraft: A Matilda Kavanagh Novel
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“Let me just get my clothes,” Joey said as she turned to go into the bathroom. I wondered why her clothing was in there, but before I could ask her why, we heard glass shattering and Joey screaming for help. Ronnie was right behind me as we rushed to the open door. Malachi had his arms wrapped around Joey, one elongated and clawed hand at her throat.

“Any closer and I’ll kill her.”

 

 

Chapter 9

What in the name of Hera had I done in a past life to deserve this? The Fae court was breathing down my neck to save the prince, who was probably already dead. They were holding the life of my former lover over my head, and if Owen died because I couldn’t deliver Roane alive, the guilt would surely kill me if the Lord and Lady didn’t. And now I had a half-crazed werewolf holding a defenseless pixie hostage, threatening to rip her throat out because I’d been too greedy to stop brewing love potions like Ronnie said.

For the love of toads!

“Malachi, you don’t want to do this,” I said, holding my hands up in front of me, trying to placate him.

Malachi roared something unintelligible as his face started to shift, morphing from half-man to half-wolf as his rage ate away at his senses. Joey sobbed in his arms that were contorting until all of his fingers were tipped in dingy, yellow claws and curled into Joey’s flesh, threatening to slice her open.

Ronnie was a ball of heat at my back as she danced in place, unsure what to do. I looked from Malachi’s face to Joey’s and back again, trying to gauge the distance between us and form some sort of mental connection to Joey, praying she’d read my thoughts on my face, but that Malachi would be too far gone to.

Without taking a moment to think or breathe, not wanting to give Malachi any kind of warning, I brought my power to my hands and threw a bolt of energy at him, striking him in the face. He howled in rage, his body going rigid for a moment before he regained control of his muscles. He threw Joey to the floor at his feet and stood over her, placing one booted foot on her back to hold her in place as he leaned toward me, slashing his claws at me. In the tiny space of the bathroom, he came dangerously close to catching my face with his claws, and I had to bend backward, into Ronnie, to avoid getting shredded.

My hands were crackling in electric sparks, making my arms tingle almost in pain. I threw another bolt of power at him, aiming for his chest now that Joey was out of the way. It struck him with an acrid smell of burning fur. He roared in pain, spittle flying from his lips. His jaw had grown like his hands, his face contorting into a muzzle full of teeth. His shoulders were expanding as I watched, the fabric of his shirt stretching and ripping over his back. He was losing control of the change, and if we didn’t hurry, we’d be facing off against a fully shifted werewolf with skin so thick nothing I could do would hurt him.

“Mattie!” Joey screamed from the floor just as I lifted my hands, concentrating as much of my power as I could muster without killing myself. The ball of light and power built between my fingers. “Please! Don’t hurt him!”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Ronnie said over my shoulder.

I didn’t want to kill him; this wasn’t his fault. The guy had wanted to end things, not turn this into some sort of Shakespearian tragedy. But this was all I could do until he was subdued enough to give him the antidote. The antidote that I didn’t have yet because I needed something of his to brew it successfully, and I didn’t think he was in the mood to let me pluck a hair from his head. I closed my eyes and focused on the ball of power and released it, hurling it at Malachi just as he lunged for me, pushing off of Joey with such force that I heard her scream as something broke under Malachi’s foot.

The energy bolt struck him right in the middle of his chest, and he fell with a pathetic whimper, sounding painfully like a wounded dog. Ronnie screamed, grabbing my shoulders and pulling us backward, just as Malachi’s claws flailed through the air right where my face had been a moment ago. Ronnie and I landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs and panic. I struggled to get to my hands and knees, holding out a hand for Joey over Malachi’s twitching body. At least he wasn’t dead.

“Joey, c’mon!” I yelled, waving my hand at her to hurry. She pushed away from the floor, yelping in pain and making her pause for a moment while she caught her breath. “Joey,” I urged. My heart was pounding in my chest, practically cracking my ribs to get free. Malachi was already starting to groan as he came to.

Joey got to her feet, clumsily climbed over Malachi, and took my hands. I gathered her close to me and we started to run for the door. Ronnie screamed behind me and I risked a look over my shoulder. Malachi came barreling through the door, slamming into Ronnie, sending her into the wall in a heap. He was fully shifted now – a massive wolf of fur and teeth and claws that was barreling right for us. I couldn’t help the scream that ripped through me as I threw Joey behind me, summoning all of my power until my entire body was covered with electric flashes of light and power.

Time slowed then. I could see the muscles of his legs, bunching and lengthening as he bounded for me. The hackles of his back were raised, forming a razor line of fur along his spine. His black lips were stretching over that mouthful of teeth and pain. A glob of saliva streamed backward, breaking off and falling to the ground. His claws cut into the carpet, shredding the fibers and splintering the wood underneath. Ronnie was screaming something, but I couldn’t hear her over the ringing in my ears as the power shot out of me, colliding with Malachi as he leapt into the air. I heard a gunshot ring out, cutting through the howls and ringing.

Malachi fell with a ground shaking thud, just inches away from me. My legs gave out and I collapsed to my knees, my body beginning to shake from the extreme expenditure of power and energy. The edges of my vision were starting to go dark, and I had to blink to keep the room clear. The fur on Malachi’s body began to disappear. Like a ripple on the surface of the water, his body shifted, revealing the man within the beast. His limbs contorted with snaps and pops as they reshaped themselves until we were finally looking at Malachi, naked and bleeding on the floor.

“What did you do?” I asked, but my voice sounded far away. The shot must’ve been too close to me, doing something to my hearing. I just prayed it would fix itself with a little time. If it was permanent, that was really going to suck.

“I shot him,” Ronnie said. She was still where Malachi had thrown her, leaning one shoulder against the wall, the pearl-handled pistol gripped in both her hands, held out in front of her. Her arms were starting to shake, and she lowered the gun, taking her finger off of the trigger.

“No!” Joey screamed, scrambling around me, crawling to Malachi’s side. She was still crying, her hands fluttering over him, not quite sure where to place them.

“He’s not dead,” Ronnie said with a deep breath. She clicked something on the gun, the safety I assumed, before tucking it back into the back of her pants. “I shot him in the leg, but the silver bullet and energy bolt knocked him out. He’ll be fine once we get that slug out of him.”

“Get it out of him,” Joey cried, swiveling her head back and forth between me and Ronnie.

“Not yet,” I said. It was much harder than it should have been to get to my feet, but somehow I managed it. “We need to give him the antidote so he goes back to normal. Then we can get that out of his leg, but not before.”

“Agreed,” Ronnie said, walking over to help Joey back to her feet.

“But we can’t leave him like this! He’s bleeding.” Joey gripped the front of Ronnie’s shirt, clinging desperately to her.

“We aren’t going to,” I said.

“Girl, I don’t know about you,” Ronnie said, trying to pry Joey’s fingers off of her shirt. “But I am not equipped to move a two hundred-pound man.”

“No,” I said with a shake of my head. My words were coming slow, like my mouth couldn’t keep up with my train of thought. “Joey, where is his cell?”

“What?” She blinked at me, only one eye clear through all the bruises and puffiness of her face.

“His phone, get it for me,” I said, making sure my voice was firm this time. She looked like she was going to argue with me, but after a moment, she decided to keep her mouth shut and walked over to the pile of shredded clothing where Malachi had shifted. She sorted through the fabric until his phone tumbled to the floor. Joey snatched it up and brought it to me. I sat on the bed, still not trusting my legs since I was having a hard time catching my breath.

Scrolling through the contact list, I found the name I was looking for. Jameson was the Alpha of Los Angeles. My thumb hovered over the name as I tried to find one last shred of courage to dial the number. A lump formed in my stomach when I finally pressed the name.

“Malachi, where the hell have you been?” a voice came over the line after just one ring that was so masculine, so forceful, it made me want to cower and show my throat.

“Jameson, this is Matilda Kavanagh,” I said, thanking the gods that my voice didn’t shake when I spoke. “We’ve met before; I treated your niece for Moon Burn?”

After a pause, he finally replied, “Right, Mattie, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I said with a sigh of relief as the edge in his voice softened.

“Has something happened to Malachi?”

“Yes,” I said, closing my eyes. In as few words as possible, I explained what had happened, ending with, “So he’s on the floor now, bleeding with a silver bullet in his thigh. I have to give him the antidote. I don’t want to leave him like this, but if I revive him, he’ll kill us all. I don’t have the ability to control him.”

“I understand,” he said. “Go, get the antidote ready, and I’ll be in touch. How long do you need?”

“An hour.”

“You’ll hear from me by then.” Jameson ended the call and I dropped my hand, cradling the phone in my lap.

“They’re going to kill me,” Joey said, her voice so soft I almost couldn’t hear her. She was kneeling by Malachi again, her hand resting on his chest, rising and falling with his breathing.

“No,” I said. I stood and placed his phone on the dresser. “I’ll work something out. Now, go get dressed so we can get the hell out of here.”

With Joey out of the way, I knelt by Malachi’s head and plucked a couple of his hairs, laying them in a tissue from the box on the dresser. Folding it carefully, I slipped it into my jacket pocket.

Once Joey was dressed, I got us out of there as fast as our bruised and beaten bodies could move. I did not want to still be there when the members of Malachi’s pack got there. Joey curled up in the back seat of my car and cried herself to sleep as I drove us back to our building.

“What do you want to do with her?” Ronnie asked as we sat in the dark of the car in the underground parking.

“Can you take her up to your apartment? I don’t think having her around when the Weres get there is a good idea,” I said, glancing over my shoulder at Joey.

“Sure.” Ronnie nodded.

“Do you have any calming draughts?”

“I think so.”

“Give her one. When I’m done with Malachi, I’ll come up with a healing potion to get to work on some of those injuries,” I said, and Ronnie nodded.

“You should take one yourself,” Ronnie said.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’ll bring you one too. I’m sure your shoulder is on fire.”

Ronnie rotated her shoulder and winced, “It’s been better.”

 

***

 

 

A while later, I was in my kitchen, a cauldron bubbling on my stove, a handful of pain amulets on the counter and Artemis winding around my feet as I chopped the herbs. I had a timer on the counter so I wouldn’t lose track of time and have the Weres take me by surprise. When the potion was as clear as water, I added three of Malachi’s hairs. Blue steam billowed up, disappearing as it hit the ceiling.

I watched anxiously as the liquid shifted from clear to blue and finally settled in a pleasing shade of soft pink. The potion was ready. Now I just needed the deranged werewolf and I could put this crappy night to bed.

By my timer, I still had ten minutes before my guests arrived, so I went into the bathroom and splashed some cold water on my face, taking the chance to change clothes and get out of the stretched and bloodied things I’d come home in. I was just wrapping a cardigan around me when the knock at the door came. Artemis bounded to the door before me, but after a quick sniff at the threshold, he hissed, flicked his tail in the air, and took off for the bedroom like a shot.

“Chicken,” I hissed back at him before checking the peephole, even though I knew who it was. Jameson himself stood on the other side of the door with another large man behind him who had Malachi’s limp form draped over his shoulder. Jameson was probably well into his fifties, maybe even his sixties, but with Weres, it was always hard to tell. He was broad shouldered and narrow hipped, with closely cut dark hair that was starting to go silver at the temples. He was tall enough that my peephole was level with his square jaw that was sprinkled with a five o’clock shadow.

“Mattie,” Jameson said with a nod when I opened the door. His voice rumbled low in his chest, commanding and soothing all at the same time. I nodded back and held the door open for them to come in.

“You can just put him on the couch,” I said to the unfamiliar Were. He was one of the biggest men I’d ever seen, well over six feet tall, and his shoulders were almost as broad as any troll’s. He was wearing dark jeans and a black, sleeveless T-shirt, showing off the swirling tattoos on his arms. The black ink against his ebony skin was almost difficult to see. The ink flowed seamlessly with the dip and curve of his muscles so that they looked like he could have been born with them.

When he dumped Malachi on the couch, Malachi’s arms flopping awkwardly to the sides, his tiny, long braids swung forward with Malachi. I rushed forward and helped him pull the braids free so he could stand up.

“Thanks,” he said before walking over to Jameson to stand behind his left shoulder.

“What do we have to do?” Jameson asked.

“We have to wake him up first,” I said. That lump in my stomach rolled.

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