Awakening the Fire (Guardian Witch #1)

Ryan didn’t speak for several heartbeats. “It would have been nice if Andreas had shared this earlier.”

“Yeah, well, we know now. Our job doesn’t change. We find the wolves, stop the drugs. And leave Sebastian to Prince Daron.”

When she disconnected Andreas sat with his arms crossed, staring at the table. His face was unreadable except for the tight jaw line.

“You’re not mad about what Ryan said, are you?”

“No.” He unfolded his arms. “I was thinking about Sebastian. How he and the wolves have used my people, his people. Tortured them.” Andreas finished his wine and stood. “Shall we be on our way?”

His calm exterior didn’t fool her. Ari felt his energy vibrate with anger. Andreas wanted someone to pay. She and the vampire agreed on that. She hoped she got to Sheila before he did. Otherwise, there might not be much left for Ari to kill.

Later that night, after unsuccessful hours of searching, Ari slipped out to the woods where Yana was buried. She felt more peaceful there, more in control of the pain. She wanted Yana to know she was hunting her killers. That she wouldn’t give up until they were found. It would be a week tomorrow, and Ari missed her.

It was a long time before she made her way home.

Chapter Thirty

“And no one told us.” Lilith stared at the tracking screens and voiced what the group was thinking. “They’ve watched us every day.” The accusation was plain in her voice.

“Since the assassination attempt. Before you get too bent out of shape, think about it,” Ari said. “Someone had just attacked the prince. They were seeing the enemy everywhere. So they took precautions. Haven’t we talked about the need for more surveillance? Well, here it is. I don’t like the secrecy either, but at least they told us now.”

“Hey, Mike, look at this.” Maleban grinned as he turned dials and poked buttons; Mike’s eyes lit up. Techies and their obsessions. In this case, it was a good thing. Drawn in by their companions’ excitement, the rest of the team crowded around, and resentment was set aside.

The next two days flew by. During daylight, Ari worked with the security team, established the new procedures, trained on the use of equipment, sharpened defensive skills with sparring and mock attacks. In the evenings, Andreas and Ari continued to comb the Otherworld bars and clubs, patrolling the streets and Goshen Park, watching and listening for some word that would lead them to the Canadian wolves.

Ari was surprised how well they got along. Andreas was a charming companion with a dry sense of humor. As he chatted with many of the bar owners, Ari gained an appreciation of his business skills. No wonder Club Dintero was so successful. Andreas’s keen eye noted every dirty counter as well as the friendly service or the sparkling set of glasses. Ari almost forgot they were looking for killers.

Late on the first night, they approached an establishment new to the strip. Ari had never been inside. Neon lights flashed in pink and orange and black. A rhythmic beat spilled into the street. The tall, brawny vampire at the door sported leather and multiple arm tattoos. He reminded Ari of the vamp in Toronto, except this guy was even bigger.

Ari started for the door, still thinking about the tattoos and the feeling of déjà vu she’d had with the tattooed vamp in Toronto.

Andreas nudged her arm. “Are you certain you want to go inside?

“Why not?” Ari gave the place a once over. The sign read Sin & Skin. Knowing vampires, that could mean anything. “Is it illegal?”

“Not exactly,” he said dryly. “It is a vampire strip club.”

“Male or female strippers?”

“Female usually. Both upon occasion.”

“Oh. Well…” Women were definitely not her cup of tea. Nor were strip clubs for that matter, but no big deal either. “Nothing I haven’t seen before. Might be the kind of place our wolves would go.”

Ari strode toward the door. The bouncer checked them out, quirked a look at Andreas, and motioned them through the entrance.

The club was dark and smoky; it smelled of beer and cigarettes. Prior to the no smoking bans, this had been typical bar atmosphere throughout Riverdale. Now only the vampire strip remained immune to the bans. Since vampires, and most Otherworlders for that matter, didn’t have to worry about lung cancer, smoking was allowed. Ari thought they should show a little more consideration for the human tourists. The music was loud and sensual, with a tropical beat. Three female vamps, in various stages of dress or undress, were pole dancing to the sultry music. After a quick glance that made her wonder if the undead could still get implants, Ari concentrated on the crowd.

She saw a mixture of tourists and locals, but no one who resembled the police photos of the wolves. She began to push her way toward the bar, ready to show the mug shots to the bartender.

Andreas spoke in her ear. “I don’t see any indication of our pack. Shall we call it quits for tonight?”

Ari frowned at him. “Without talking to the barkeep? Do you have somewhere else to be?” A late date?

“Don’t say I did not try,” he murmured in her ear.

Sudden drums began a heavy beat, drowning out anything else Andreas might have said. The overhead lights went out. A spotlight appeared. Strobe lights flashed, and a female vamp with large breasts and long legs glided onto the stage. A red scarf draped around her neck, and three tiny triangles of red silk covered the most critical spots. She held a knife in her teeth. The predominately male crowd shouted as she gyrated her hips and swirled the scarf to the beat of the drums.

A male werelion climbed out of the audience onto the stage. He mirrored her movements and reached out one hand, capturing the top two triangles. As he bent his head and bit into a bare breast, the audience stomped and howled. Ari had been wrong; she hadn’t seen this before.

Her feet seemed rooted by the spectacle, the violent, sexual display. When the dancer transferred the knife to her hand, Andreas took Ari’s arm and steered her toward the door. As they reached the exit, Ari saw Sheila.

“There she is! The she-wolf.” Ari dove back into the unruly mob, shoving toward the place she had spotted the wolf. Andreas stayed with her, searching from his greater height. Fights began to break out as the crowd stormed the stage. Bar staff waded in with clubs and Tasers. When Andreas and Ari failed to find any trace of the she-wolf, he finally dragged her outside.

“Are you positive it was Sheila?” he asked.

Was she? It was a brief glance, and all she had to go on was a mug shot. “Pretty sure.”

They circled the building, hanging around until the show was over and the bar began to empty. They scanned every patron. When only stragglers remained, Ari was forced to accept she’d been wrong or Sheila had gotten away.

“I guess we’re done for tonight.” As they started up the street, Ari’s curiosity made her ask, “Back there, were they really going to do it? Right on stage?”

“Yes. And much more,” he said with a straight face. He struggled to suppress a laugh.

She didn’t ask what he meant by ‘much more.’ Knowing vamps and werewolves, and with a knife involved, she figured blood was a prime ingredient. She wasn’t sorry she missed the rest of the performance. There might be less desirable activities than having kinky, bloodletting sex on a public stage, but right now she couldn’t think of one.

Ari grimaced.

And then he did laugh.

“That’s why you wanted to leave. You knew what was coming. Have you been there before?”

“Yes.” His eyes still twinkled.

“More than once?”

“That sounds like a loaded question.” He looked at her with a grin. “And I have better sense than to answer.”

By the second evening, they were running out of places to look. With no verified sightings, despite her “possible” from the night before, Ari began to think the pack had returned to Canada. She and Andreas had worked the side streets this evening. The next stop was Tillie’s, a small bar and grill patronized mostly by weretigers. It was definitely off the tourist beat.

The owner’s immediate response to the photos sent Ari’s blood rushing.

“Yeah, I seen them. Recognize the woman.” The owner pointed to Sheila’s photo. “Heavy accent. Came in here two or three nights in a row. Ordered from the tap. But I suspected they were selling drugs. Told ’em to leave. Don’t need the police shutting me down.”

“Have they been back?” she asked.

The barkeep shook his head. “No, ma’am. Not since.”

“Did you get the impression they live nearby?” Andreas asked.

The owner scratched his head. “Can’t say about that. But the first night they asked about pizza. Told ’em about the carryout joint two blocks over. That’s where they headed from here. Maybe the pizza folks can help you.”

Ari was out the door almost before the barkeep finished. She sprinted the two blocks, Andreas easily matching her stride. But their luck ran out again. The pizza guy had no trouble remembering the wolves, but they’d used pick-up—not delivery. And paid cash. Another dead end. It proved the wolves were still in town, but that was all.

Tired and let down over the fizzled lead, Ari said good night and trudged home. So far they’d used good, old-fashioned police work, tromping around Olde Town, interviewing potential witnesses, and they had next to nothing to show for their efforts. Maybe it was time to try a little witchcraft. Scrying wasn’t exactly one of her best talents, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

Arriving at her apartment, she opened the cedar chest that doubled as her coffee table, pulled out the scrying bowl, and selected a small crystal pedant. While she’d never located people by this method, she’d found inanimate objects a few times. Well, once or twice. She knew people were harder. The searching spell worked best when the practitioner had personal items from the target—which Ari didn’t have. She’d heard that sometimes images worked, and she had the police photos.