Chapter 14

Muted whispering sounded in Quinn’s head as soon as he and the little girl passed through Everett and onto the Hwy 2 bridge that stretched over the Snohomish River.

The Opari sensed he was coming.

The whispering grew louder as he drove by Lake Stevens, then through Granite Falls. He tried to make some sense of it, but it was like being at a cocktail party in a foreign land — overhearing a conversation but not understanding a word.

As he entered the Robe Valley, the whispering was loud enough to be a serious distraction, which was why he almost hit the woman standing in the middle of the road.

Quinn came around the corner—spotted her—swerved—the Ford 250’s tires shrieked as they fought for traction. When he finally managed to bring the truck to a stop, the woman popped up alongside his window.

The glyphs on his back prickled.

A witch.

Quinn had plenty of reasons to dislike witches. They preferred to be known as spell-crafters of magic-crafters, but he’d always called them witches (in his head) partly as rebellion, partly because as far as he was concerned the term perfectly outlined their true nature. Paranoia and the arrogance that came along with power made a toxic combination.

He recognized her instantly.

“Mandy?”

“Lachlan Quinn, you almost hit me, you moron,” she yelled.

“Sweet Mother of All, you were walking down the middle of the fucking road and on a blind curve to boot. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Of course, I was. My car broke down a way back. Where else would I walk trying to hitch a ride?”

He bit back a comment that most people hitchhiked on the side of the road unless they were fucking crazy. He also decided to not comment on the fact that she was a terrible liar. There had been no car on the side of the road.

He looked in the back seat, afraid that all the yelling had awakened his sleeping passenger, but she was out like a light, her little face angelic in sleep.

“I suppose you want a lift into town?”

“I would hope so,” she said and climbed into the truck like she was doing him a favor.

You haven’t changed a bit. You always were a big pain in my butt.”

Mandy had grown into a knockout—A golden blond goddess with big cornflower blue eyes. She had a zaftig pinup figure—the kind bomber crews liked to paint on their planes during World War II. Dressed in a simple blue summery dress, she was hot hot hot—too bad she was such a pain in the ass.

Quinn could sense her magic roiling and coiling around her talent like a sinuous, deadly serpent.

Her acerbic voice jerked his attention back from his musings.

“What happened to your face?” Her eyes were fixed on the scar on his face.

“Accident.”

“You’re a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Well, it has been ten years. Clean living. Pure thoughts. Avoiding bad company. People like you.”

“Very funny.’

Mandy turned and eyed the little girl sound asleep in the back seat. “What on earth are you doing with a baby wolf-kin? Katie didn’t mention it, which means that you didn’t tell her. You’re still keeping secrets.”

“She was delivered to my doorstep. One of your crazies was after her. She’s traumatized, probably from shifting at too young an age. I’m hoping Anna can heal her so I can find out who her people are.”

“What do you mean by one of my crazies?”

“A Hag.”

She scoffed. “You’re imagining things. There is no such thing. The last one was put down years ago.” She continued staring at her, frowning.

“Lan, that little shifter is trouble. I’ll have to take her to the Aunties.”

Quinn stiffened. “Mandy, that is NOT going to happen. You are not taking her anywhere. I wouldn’t trust the Aunties with this little girl as far as I could throw them. They’ll use her as a bargaining chip. You know they would.”

Quinn started the truck, checked to make sure she had fastened her seat belt, and pulled out onto the road.

Mandy didn’t waste any time getting down to business. As soon as the truck started the glyphs flared hot. He glanced at her. She stared straight ahead, remote and placid--but her hands were busy twisting and signing like a rap-singing gang banger. She muttered a cantrip and looked over at him expectantly.

The compulsion spell was a good one. She must have gained Fifth or maybe Sixth Mystery.

The spell slid off and dissipated. His glyphs quietened.

Quinn smiled slightly. She must have caught the mockery because she pressed her lips together.

Then she tried a different tack. A dizzying scent of lavender filled the truck. He found himself leaning toward her when his glyphs warmed again.

This was a real danger. He pulled back and concentrated on driving.

Jesus, that was close.

Quinn was particularly vulnerable when it came to that spell. He’d been head over heels crushing with either her or her sisters at one time or another since he was fourteen years old. All of whom in the end made it clear that he was nowhere near cool enough.

“Mandy, behave yourself or I’ll stop and let you out to walk to town.

Her response was a mocking grin.

“So, why are you coming back to stay after all this time?”

“I am not coming back to stay. Your sister in crazy, Charming, showed up in her fetch-form. Apparently, the Aunties demand my presence. I’m here for a couple of days to get the little girl fixed up and get her back to her people. I’ll see what the Aunties want and then I’m going back to live like a normal person in a normal town.”

“Well good,” she said tartly, “the last thing we need in Emory is YOU. Things are at a cusp. You and that shifter are sure to make things worse.”

That was interesting. She wasn’t lying. So not everybody wanted him there.

“Mandy, even a four-year-old could come up with a better story than a car breaking down. Especially when there was no car in sight.”

She stared straight ahead; her mouth fixed in a stubborn line.

“What’s going on? Are they trying to make sure I’m following orders? Did Birdy send you to watch for me?”

“Some in both the covens don’t want you here. We’re just trying to find out what you’re up to.”

Quinn snorted. “Sweet Mother, you people are too much. I’m here because those bitches won’t leave me the fuck alone. Who’s the ‘we’ you’re talking about?”

“Us.”

The Sisters. “As I remember, most of the time you four can’t even agree where to meet for ice cream sundaes.” The sisters were all about drama and fights flared up as long as he had known them.