Wolves and the River of Stone (17 page)

“What now?” I said as I jogged back into the front room, weaving past Zola and Carter. My stomach flip flopped a few times when I saw Edgar, one of our local Watchers, letting Bubbles and Peanut sniff his hand by the register.

I cleared my own throat and waited for Eddie to look up.

“A
h, Vesik. It feels like I was just here.” He hooked his thumb toward the front window. “You seem to have a bit of a mess out front.” He pulled a small spiral pad out of his pocket and flipped the cover open with his index finger. “Looks like you’re going into another bracket, Vesik.” He shook his head. “I don’t envy you the fines from this one.”

I caught Nixie staring at his bowler. It was a pretty cool hat.

I blew out a breath and walked toward Edgar. “Come
on
Eddie! I didn’t have anything to do with
that!”
I pointed through my broken window at the curious people surrounding the decapitated werewolf corpse. “Why don’t you go investigate the dark necromancers parading around the country?”

“Please, don’t forget who you’re talking to, son. We see everything.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh sure, play it by the rules, but I wasn’t even out there!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Carter said. I glanced over my shoulder to find him leaning against the doorframe with the blanket pulled around him. Cara and Aideen were hovering beside him. Probably making sure he wasn’t going to fall over.

“I killed that wolf,” Carter said, “and you know it.”

I heard Foster muttering something over by the register. I was pretty sure it involved someone eating their own hat.

Edgar sighed and rubbed his face hard. “Never mind, Vesik. I don’t want to argue about this. There are so many dead werewolves to clean up, it’s ridiculous. I’ll just clean up this disaster and fine the wolves.”

Hallelujah! I thought my fines would have had another zero or three added to them. “Thanks, Eddie.”

Edgar narrowed his eyes before he turned toward the front door with his shoulders slightly slumped. “Do you realize how many memories I’m going to have to alter? There are going to be some strange birthmarks in the morning.”

The Watchers’ memory charms would leave scars behind. When they were complex enough, they would sometimes leave tattoos instead.

I scratched my neck and raised an eyebrow. The shop’s phone rang as Edgar walked outside. I answered it, “Double D.”

“Damian, is Carter there? He is not answering his phone.”

“Hugh, is that you? Hey, that rhymes.” I heard Hugh sigh on the other end of the line. “Sorry, yeah, he’s here.”

“I need to speak to him, please. It’s urgent my friend.”

I held the phone out to Carter. “It’s Hugh and it’s important.”

Carter took the phone and placed it between his shoulder and his ear while he adjusted the blanket. I could still hear the voice on the other end of the line, though it was a metallic whisper from a distance. “Three dead wolves, Carter. It was the same group that hit your house.”

“Where, where are they?”

“Alan caught up with them off Highway 40, near the island.”

“How many are left?” Carter said.

“Three. They’re in a black van with red stripes down the side. Haka killed one. Alan got another.”

“I’m on my way.” Carter snapped the phone closed and looked up at me. I was surprised he didn’t ask who had died before he hung up the phone. “My car is in the shop, but I have a rental out front. Are you with me?”

“Oh yes.” A chance to strike at anyone who was associated with Philip’s cult wasn’t a chance I was likely to miss. And Zachariah ... Zola had mentioned that name. “Mom, can you handle Edgar?”

Cara nodded and said, “Aideen, Nixie, help me with Edgar. Foster, go with Damian and Carter. They may need you to track the necromancers.”

Foster was out the window before Carter and I had taken a step.

Nixie kissed me on the cheek as I left. Before I’d made it out the door I heard her say, “My, Edgar. Do you work out?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Edgar didn’t stand a chance.

***

Foster was already in the backseat, ready for battle with his sword sheath laid across his lap and his head bumping the roof when Carter and I made it to the rental. I didn’t see a five pound bag of fairy dust exploded all over the rental, so I was pretty sure Foster had changed outdoors.

“Fancy,” I said as I climbed into Carter’s black rental SUV. The tires squealed as Carter slammed the SUV into drive and tore off across the cobblestones. I scrambled for my seat belt as twilight began burning the sky. “Shit, Carter. I’d hate to die before the necromancers got a chance to kill me.”

“Sorry,” Carter said through a hollow laugh.

“Where are we headed?” Foster said.

“South.” Carter turned the fan up on the air conditioner. “I’m hoping to head them off somewhere between Clayton Road and 44.”

“Black van with red stripes,” I said. “Can’t be too many of those around.”

“Sure, but what are our chances of finding them?” Foster said.

“With Hugh and his son giving us info? Real good. Real damn good.”

We traveled down Highway 70 to Highway 270 in relative silence. Carter had the speedometer straining around ninety and it earned us some nasty looks from the traffic around us.

I heard a bell ringing as we passed below the Olive Boulevard overpass. I wondered what it was until Carter reached into his shirt pocket and pushed a button on his phone. “Carter here.”

A throaty voice came onto the car’s speakers. “They’re heading down Manchester. We lost them in Ballwin.”

It was hard to hear Carter’s voice over the roar of the air rattling the speeding SUV. “How fast, Haka?”

“Fifty or Sixty. Caused a pileup and we lost them.”

Carter nodded. “Get there as soon as you can. We’ll try to head them off.” Carter hung up his phone and dropped it into one of the SUVs many cup holders.

“They’re on Manchester, coming up on 270. If we hurry, we might catch them.” It wasn’t even a full minute before Manchester came into view.

“There! Foster said as he pointed toward the right edge of the windshield.

“Son of bitch,” Carter said. “There’s no way in hell we’re catching that van.”

Sure enough, a black van with red stripes was rocketing toward the overpass. A wicked grin cracked my face as I watched the van. “Think you could toss me up there, Foster?”

His eyes glanced at the fast approaching bridge and the van moving toward it. He nodded once. “Carter, keep us steady.”

“What?!”

Instead of answering, Foster clicked the button to open the sunroof. He frowned at the slow-moving glass and punched the sunroof out of the rental instead. Carter yelped and focused on keeping us straight in the lane as the sunroof shattered on the pavement behind us.

“The Watchers are going to be pissed,” Foster said as he glanced at the overpass. “Speed up!”

Carter ran the SUV up to ninety-five.

I climbed through the missing roof and laughed as the air tore through my hair. “This is nuts.” I crouched with my hands on the luggage rack, one foot braced on the back of the roof’s opening. “Fire when ready, fairy boy.”

“Jerk,” Foster muttered, but I could hear the grin in his voice. “Put your feet together. Good.” He picked me up, pulled back, and launched me into the air.

I cursed and laughed like a maniac as I passed over the traffic below. My arms were crossed in front of my chest and my knees were pulled up like a cannonball. I enjoyed the wind snapping around me for the split second before I realized how fast the side of the van was coming up to greet me. A moment later, I screamed
“Impadda!”
and smashed through it. The metal screeched as it was torn apart by my shield to form dozens of razor sharp petals. The impact sliced the werewolf in the back of the van to pieces. Tires squealed and metal groaned as my shield slammed into the other side of the van. I dropped it as late as possible and spread out my arms and legs so I didn’t fly through the other side. I only knew the dead guy had been a werewolf because there was fur and blood
everywhere.

The impact wasn’t pleasant. I was pretty sure my nose was broken and possibly a rib or three, but it didn’t stop the growl in my throat as I screamed,
“Zachariah!”
I turned to the right as something moved beside me. I found a short blond necromancer about to leap out the back of the van. A swift kick booted him out before he was ready. There was a short scream. I heard him say
“Impadd–”
before a wet impact cut him off as a black sedan tried to swerve, but ran over his neck instead.

“Michael, jump!” Zachariah yelled to the passenger as he jumped out the driver’s door. A shield sparked as he hit the ground and rolled onto Manchester Road. I caught a glimpse of his dark hair, pointed ear, and weak chin before he leapt. The necromancer in the passenger seat flung his door open and followed suit.

“Son of a bitch!” I jumped into the driver’s seat and grabbed the steering wheel. I slammed on the brakes and put the van in park. The door opened with a swift kick and I hit the pavement running.

I couldn’t see Michael, but Zachariah stuck out as he ran toward the Village Bar across the street. He was still close enough. I took a deep breath and screamed,
“Veratto!”
A surge of electric blue energy burned through my aura from the nearby ley lines and lashed out at Zachariah.

Zachariah’s legs were ripped out from under him and he hit the road face first. He rolled over and held something in my direction. I didn’t wait to see what he was going to attack me with.
“Minas Opprimotto!”

An invisible anvil of force crushed the air out of Zachariah’s lungs. His nose was bent, and by the time he got his breath back, I was already on top of him. He was cut and bloody from my attacks, especially from sliding across the asphalt on his face. I twisted his tattered white button-down up in my fist and said, “Where’s the rest?”

I didn’t give him a chance to answer. I punched his already lacerated face. The bastard still wore a smug expression. “Where the fuck is Philip?” Another rabbit punch to his broken nose sent more blood cascading down his chin. Foster swooped down beside us and landed by Zachariah’s head. “You tell us, or I’ll let the fairy do ... things to you.”

For the first time Zachariah’s eyes widened and the angry crease left his forehead. “Lau-mer ... meir,” he said through a bloody mouth. A moment later he started to laugh.

“Police,” Foster said. I heard the sirens and the flashing lights followed the sound down the street. “Take him with us.”

I nodded and started dragging Zachariah toward the entrance ramp. It was the most likely place for Carter to show up with the rental, and he didn’t disappoint. The black SUV flipped on its hazard lights and came to a screeching halt a few feet away. Carter had the window down and yelled at us. “Get in!”

Zachariah stopped laughing and started struggling again when he saw the werewolf. Before I could even think much about it, the dark necromancer raised his hand with a clenched fist and said,
“Inimicus averto!”

A dome of rippling force blasted out from Zachariah’s hand and hammered me backwards. Son of a bitch, I thought, he could use ley line arts too.
“Impadda!”
I said as I bounced and rolled into oncoming traffic. My shield snapped up just in time as I hit the side of a stopped bus. Metal gave and two of the windows shattered. I dropped the shield too early, cursed, and tried to roll out of the path of an incoming police cruiser. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth when the tires started screeching, waiting for the impact as bits of gravel and debris pelted my face.

“Get up, Damian!”

I glanced up to find a wide-eyed officer standing beside his cruiser. Foster was running at me. He scooped me up and leapt for the SUV in the span of a heartbeat. I almost giggled at the thought of what the officer must be seeing, a scraped up Renaissance vagrant bouncing merrily through the air. Foster ripped open the back door, threw me inside, and followed. Carter had his foot down before we even had the door closed.

I pushed on my ribs and was relieved to find them sore, but not broken. “Where’d Zachariah go?”

“He vanished,” Carter said.

“No, he ran for the mall,” Foster said. “We can still kill him.”

I looked out the back window at the growing mass of police and fire vehicles. “No way, we already made a big enough mess. We know where to find Philip. That’s enough. Carter, take us to the Pit. We need Zola.”

Carter pulled his cell phone out and hit redial. “Hugh, meet us at the vampire lair.” He paused and listened to Hugh for a moment. “Two dead here. Someone else’s wolf and one necromancer. Zachariah escaped. We know where the others are going: Laumeier Sculpture Park. We’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Carter,” I said.

“For what? I just drove the car.” Carter’s hands flexed around the wheel and he took a deep breath. “Why did he tell us anything if he could have escaped?”

“Zachariah?” Foster said.

Carter nodded.