A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel) (36 page)

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Authors: S.M. Blooding

Tags: #Whiskey Witches Novel Number 3

BOOK: A Barrel of Whiskey - (An Urban Fantasy Whiskey Witches Novel)
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P
aige wanted to kill someone. But she’d gone off half-cocked too often.

Dan knew about witches because Leslie had stolen his sister’s boyfriend.

Dan knew about shifters because he’d been bitten and rejected.

Bad blood.

It was highly possible that he had gone out on his own to figure out how to battle the Whiskeys and the shifters magickally.

Was
that
the real reason Merry fucking Eastwood was in Texas?

Made too much damned sense.

People were talking, but too much emotion rattled around inside her chest for her to comprehend their words.

Warm, strong hands wrapped around her shoulders, gentle claws piercing her skin.

Paige breathed, the darkness of her mind evaporating, the physical contents of the room filling her reality.

King fingering the candle, the corners of her lips pulled down. She said something, but Paige couldn’t make out the words. She could hear them. Just not make sense of them.

Wrick standing by the window, his hands shoved in his pockets.

Tyler filling the door with his slight frame.

Tru standing just behind him. His lips moved, his eyes on Paige.

There was probably a question in there. Like, “What are we supposed to do?”

Good question. What
were
they going to do? Wait for the text? The text that included the location of Chuck’s shifters that she was supposed to kill?

Supposed to kill.

Stop. Everyone was looking to her to lead. So…she needed to pull her head from her butt and do that.

Okay.
Think, stupid. Think.
The Galsborys were supposed to know if Paige killed the shifters. What did that mean for her? How could she use that?

One of them was staking out the location.

Did that help her?

No. Not really.

They could have a camera in place, watching.

Paige pulled out her phone.

Dexx took it from her. “What are you doing?”

His voice, his words were the only things penetrating the thick fog of emotions. She took her phone back. “Calling Ethel.”

He smiled, his eyebrows raised. “Great. Why?”

“She could help trace the camera feed.”

“Whoa,” King said, her words crisp as she slowed them down and over enunciated. She latched onto Paige’s gaze and held it fiercely. “You made a few leaps there. What camera? What feed?”

Paige didn’t have time to get them all caught up. “Dan is going to want confirmation of the kill. More than just my word. Cameras. Watching the entire time.”

“Sounds plausible.” King shrugged, her lips twisted. “But are you overlooking all the dots?”

Paige wasn’t. He knew about the Whiskeys being witches. He knew about the shifters after having been bitten, surviving, and not being accepted. He knew about the treaty.

And she wasn’t overlooking Rachel. She’d been called to the hospital by someone. Or that Ruby had been taken to the same hospital as Alma. Or that her team had been there to investigate Ruby’s attack.

Or that between Ruby and Rachel, Paige had been distracted enough to allow her family to be kidnapped out from under her nose.

Wrick nodded once. “I’ll call Ethel and see what she can do. I speak that language, so I’ll be more helpful.”

Yeah. Great idea. “Thanks.”

“Who is this guy and who does he know?” Dexx asked.

“After I get my family back,” Paige growled, “you can be damned certain that I’m finding out.”

“That’s great.” King tapped the table. “But we’re on a time clock. That text comes, we’d better have everything in place, or the shifters are fucked and your family’s dead.”

Paige blinked, the reality of those words settling into the pores of her skin.

“Not to be a dick or anything.”

“You’d have to have one first,” Wrick said quietly.

The room filled with silence.

Wrick sighed. “I have the worst sense of humor ever.”

“No, dude,” Dexx said, giving Paige’s shoulders another squeeze. “Normally, that would’ve been epic.”

“My niece is twelve, Wrick.” Paige took in a shuddering breath. “My daughter is twelve. And my sister has a baby that’s not even a week old yet.”

Dexx tipped his head at her. “He didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I’m—” Wrick held up his phone. “—gonna call Ethel.”

Paige needed a plan. Something brilliant. She was the fucking director, for crying out loud. She should have this. She should be able to come up with something. Otherwise, what the hell was she filling the seat for?

“Detach yourself,” Dexx said quietly.

King nodded. “Pretend it’s not your daughter.”

Right. “But it is.”

“Yeah.” King gave her a look that said, “is that helping at all?”

They were right. If this was anyone else, she’d be able to come up with a plan. It was only when it was personal that she handled things badly.

When her mother had taken her daughter, she’d raised a demon to kill Rachel.

When Dexx lay dying in the hospital, she’d given Hell’s key to the demon who’d murdered almost a dozen people.

When some psychotic asshole kidnapped her family and had her grandmother stabbed, she couldn’t focus. What was she going to do? Run around without a clue? Kill the shifters?

Stop. Back that up.

“What if I did kill the shifters?”

Someone knocked at the front door.

Tru turned to answer it.

“You can’t be serious,” Dexx said.

“No. Not really kill them.” Paige narrowed her eyes. Dan would be texting her an address any minute now. She needed a real plan. A good one.

“We have the five possible locations,” Wrick offered. “And Ethel is working with Parris to narrow that down. You could still try the locator spell you mentioned.”

Had she actually mentioned that? Out loud? She couldn’t remember.

Chuck stepped into the entryway, watching what was going on with a frown.

Would the locator spell work faster? Paige bit the inside of her lip and stared at the objects in her hand. She’d completely forgotten about that because that wasn’t something she did. She didn’t do magick. She summoned shit. She manifested the elements. Sure. But a spell? “I don’t know if I can.”

Tru walked into the room and slammed his fist against the table. “You better.”

Paige’s eyes widened. This was the first time she’d ever seen Tru pissed. She’d thought nothing could get under his skin.

But Leslie wasn’t just a sister and Mandy wasn’t just a niece. Not to him. Leslie was his best friend and Mandy was a daughter he knew better than any other teenaged girl on the planet. He’d lay down his life for her. He’d do anything for her.

That’s what it meant to be a parent, something she’d forgotten in the last five years while living the life of a bachelor with complete control of the remote.

That was the dose of reality she’d needed.

Paige shook herself and held out the objects. A scarf and a headband. Headband. How many women actually wore those? Owned? Sure. Wore?

She didn’t care. She couldn’t. If Tru had picked these, they were good enough. Had to be. She had to do this. But for Leah?

She didn’t have anything for Leah.

It didn’t matter.
She
was the connection to Leah.

Swallowing, Paige reached inside herself and called to the water. Water flowed through the earth. It
carved
the earth. It had the power to reach into places it should not. There was no hiding from water. Well, there was. But they didn’t live on a submarine.

Air was next. It made sense. It wasn’t a part of the spell. But what was a spell? A contraption to keep the mind and the will focused on the task. What did she want to accomplish?

Find her sister, her niece, and her daughter.

Well, and the shapeshifters being held against their will.

How best to do that?

A lot of witches used water, but air was faster when pushed by wind, and it, too, could get into just about any space. So, she called on it. It whispered to her. Normally, it giggled, but tonight, it did not. It growled, eager and waiting to be released.

She raised the scarf and the headband.

She didn’t have anything of the shapeshifters.

I do.
Cawli reached up and touched the elements with his soul.

The element seemed to catch it, but didn’t leave. Not yet. Paige didn’t get a word. Not a feeling either. But there was a ping of almost curiosity as if the air asked, “Another?”

Yes. There was. She reached into her heart and tugged on the strings that wouldn’t allow Paige to forget her daughter even when there were no memories to remind her. She tugged on the ache of her arms, the feeling in her heart when Leah smiled. Then she touched on the door of her soul, a similar door to the one Leah had to use in order to pull souls out of Heaven. Probably Hell. Though, she didn’t know that.

Enough?

The air danced in front of her witch eyes and then darted out of the room.

“Director Whiskey,” Gomez called from the hallway.

“Did it work?” Tru demanded.

“It’s working,” Paige said, blinking her witch vision away and returning to regular sight without shifting into shifter vision. She didn’t need Dexx overreacting and turning. Though, it hadn’t slipped her notice that his claws had come out and nothing else had. “We just have to give it time.”

“What time?” Tru asked. “My wife could be killed at any moment. That madman could decide to murder my daughter now instead of waiting. For that matter, he could touch her, do worse things to her.”

Yes. Yes, he could. Paige sent a tendril of will towards the elements, begging them to hurry.

“You should have stayed gone,” Tru hissed and paced back to the door.

Gomez frowned at him. “Director, I have information.”

Paige stared at the empty space where Tru had been. She’d only ever seen him as a carefree, silly man with a great, sarcastic wit. She turned her attention back to Gomez, her mind scrambling. What had she been tasked with?

Gomez had been in the back yard as a tree, communicating to her grove. Right. “Is it something we can use?”

“Yes. We’ve pinpointed the location of your family down to a one block radius.”

“How?” Tru demanded, re-entering the room. “How?”

“Scent,” Paige said, barely recalling. How stupid did she become when emotion overrode her? “Gomez, get with King. She has the locations Parris and Ethel were able to narrow their search down to. Let’s see if one of those locations falls within your block.”

King pushed past Tru to get to the map, her phone in hand.

“How?” Tru asked Gomez.

She looked around uncomfortably. “I entered the grove’s mind and uploaded, I guess, the scent I picked up from the crime scene. The other members of my grove went looking.”

Dryads were mildly amazing. “Were your informants able to pick out any other scents? Other people?” Could they tell if they were still alive? Dead? Hurt? How many captors? How many guns?

Were the captive shifters close?

“Once the scent was found,” Gomez said, her expression open and honest and sincere, “many of the grove joined. Together, they were able to surround the place and gather much information.”

“Like?”

“They are still working on it, but we have a scent—”

“Grove?” Tru asked with a confused frown.

“They’re dryads, Tru,” Paige snapped. “Scent. Other people? Blood?”

“Blood, yes,” Gomez said. “Male blood. And fresh.”

“How can you tell male blood?”

Gomez smiled. “Trust me. We’re dryads. We know the smell of male blood. The only female blood we picked up was your sister’s. She still bleeds from her birth, so she was easy to find.”

Well, one down.

“We smell fear, but no death.”

Paige released a breath of relief. “How is the grove when it comes to fighting?”

“In tree form? Formidable. In human? I think some know which side of the gun to hold.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that,” Dexx said, a dark look on his face.

“No,” Gomez agreed. “However, I can give the word, they will root close by and be ready.”

Paige had never fought with trees on their side before. This would be interesting. “What kind of protections have the Galsborys set in place?”

“That,” Gomez said, a frown on her face. “We’re having a hard time pinpointing the exact location, so we can’t tell.”

How was it they could smell them and not pinpoint the address?

Many reasons. She needed to chill.

King looked up. “We have an address.”

Finally. One of the lines they’d cast provided results. “Excellent.” Now, for a plan.

“Gomez and I should free your family,” King said. “While you focus on the shifters.”

“I’ll go with them,” Dexx said.

Paige wanted to ensure the safety of her family first. She didn’t know what the Galsborys had planned. Did they have explosives? Guns? How many? How many others had joined their cause?

Rachel?

Merry?

If Merry was there, were there other witches?

If Rachel was there, were there angels?

Where the hell was Roxxie? Why hadn’t she shown up yet?

Maybe because she was a frelling angel who might have other, more pressing business to attend to.

Gomez nodded. “That’s a good plan. While you’re ‘killing’ shifters, we’ll be rescuing your family.”

“Killing?” Chuck asked.

Paige shook her head to cut him off.

“I’m going with you,” Tru said.

“No.” Paige’s tone was firm. “You’re needed here. To protect your sons. And mine.”

Tru’s blue eyes blazed.

“I’ll stay with him,” Wrick offered. “I may not be great with magical stuff, but if you need anything on the internet, between Parris, Ethel, and I, we’ve got your back.”

Parris said something muffled from the hallway.

“I will join you in retrieving my pack,” Chuck said quietly.

Between the regional alpha and Paige, they should be good.

Should.

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