Sabotaged (The Sundance Series Book 3) Page 2

  "Here. I'll write it down for you." Lucas leapt up and forward, punching Bear Two in the chest as he landed. The sound of his fist hitting the shifter's chest was nearly as loud as the car explosion had been. "Get out of my territory and don't return. Tell Narasaki he'll be making reparations for his disrespect to me and Miss Costa MacLeod, or I will issue a formal challenge to you and to him. Got it?"

  Bear Two made a choking, gasping sound, clutched his chest, and dropped like a stone.

  Clyde cringed. "Oh no. You're not Alpha Blacke are you?" It was phrased as a question, but the bear knew. Lucas brimmed with unmistakable alpha power. His eyes were pale gold and his voice had dropped a few octaves.

  "The one and only."

  The bear backed up to the doorway between the café and kitchen. "Oh no. Oh God. Apologies, Alpha, sir. We were only following orders. We didn't mean to—did you stop Rufus's heart?"

  Lucas stared down at his fingernails. "Probably."

  "Are you going to do that to me, too?" Clyde shivered. Why hadn't he run away? The bear shifter was either exceedingly clueless or extraordinarily stupid. I was going with both.

  "No. I need you to relay my message to your alpha. Pick up your partner's body and leave before I decide to kill you and email him my message instead."

  "Y-yes, sir. Of course, sir. Right away, sir." He went down on his knees and lifted his partner's body in his arms. "Oh no. Oh God. Poor Rufus. What do I tell his family?"

  "Miss Costa MacLeod has a family, too." Lucas let his tiger bleed though his eyes, his ears shifted, his hands grew into thick almost-paws with long claws. "Should his come before hers?"

  Not much of a family. My uncle was gone, and I had an absent father and an even more absent mother, but I didn't argue the point.

  "No, sir, it shouldn't. I don't—I was following orders—oh God, he's not going to be able to heal, is he?" The bear gulped. He threw the other bear over his shoulder.

  I walked forward, nudged Lucas from behind. "Come on."

  Are you serious? The bastard shot you with a tranquilizer dart. He thought the words directly into my head. He was the only person in the world who could do that to me.

  "I got it out before it could do much damage. Besides, he's got a family," I whispered.

  "Neely. You drive me up a goddamned—you know what? Fine." Lucas cursed, dragged his hand through his hair. "Hey, shifter. Clyde. Put Rufus on the floor and back away."

  "Sir, I've got to take his body home—"

  "Do it."

  Clyde wasn't as dumb as he looked. He did as Lucas commanded.

  "You don't deserve this, but…" Lucas drove down on one knee, superhero style, and punched the shifter in the heart again. Pressed his ear to the bear's chest. "There. It's beating."

  "Thank you. Thank you, Alpha, sir." Clyde's mouth widened into a bear grin.

  "Have him shift fully on the way home. He'll heal faster that way." Lucas shoved his finger in Clyde's face. "Next time, I won't punch twice. Get out of my territory. And clean up that Ford Fiesta fire before you go."

  "I will, sir. Sorry, sir. Sorry, ma'am." Clyde scooped up Rufus and fled out the back door.

  "Just another day at the bakery." I sighed.

  Lucas spun around, his body caught in mid-shift back to human. His gaze latched onto mine, his mouth a pressed, firm line. "You need to join my group."

  "No."

  "Neely, I don't think you understand. We've stopped the alphas so far, but we're playing against the odds. One will get through. It's only a matter of time and opportunity."

  I folded my arms over my chest.

  "Do you want to be turned into a crossbreed?"

  "Oh yes, I'd like to be turned into a mindless killing machine. A shifter-telepath-spiker with unlimited power and no control over my emotions." Furious, I dropped the sarcasm and snapped, "You know it's my worst fear."

  "It's mine, too." His eyes glowed white gold and he jerked his hand through his hair. "And I'm trying to do something about it. If you're in my group, I can protect you better."

  "Are you seriously worried about my ability to handle shifters like Clyde and Rufus?"

  "They won't all be that inept. They haven't all been that inept—we've just been lucky."

  "I can't join your group, Lucas. Don't ask me anymore. I just … can't."

  "Fine." Taking a step back, he shook away the last of his tiger and strode into the kitchen. "I'll pick up some plywood and a new lock for the back door. We'll get it fixed asap. Narasaki will pay." He walked out through the back doorway.

  I yelled after him, "I won't be guilted into it, Lucas Blacke, not by you or any alpha." But he didn't hear me. He was already gone.

  Sighing, I palmed the dart the bears shot me with and went behind the counter. I took out a flat jeweler's box the size of my fist, opened the lid, and dropped the dart inside to join the other six I'd collected. Then I put the box away and got the heavy-duty cleanser out of the cleaning closet in the kitchen, along with a pile of clean rags. I sprayed cleanser on the worktable, where I could clearly see a sweaty human-bear handprint.

  "This is officially the worst birthday ever."

  The tranquilizer dart had made the edges of my vision lacy, but not fully obscured. It would wear off soon. The bears hadn't used a strong sedative, probably afraid they might accidentally kill me before I could be of use to them.

  I stifled a yawn, picked up one of the rags, and set to scrub away all evidence of my thwarted kidnapping.

  Chapter Two

  "And d'you know what else he said, Dolores?"

  I tottered to the side, nearly spilling my prickly pear margarita. My wrinkled cotton sundress was hiked up to my hips, my rear end was in the mud, and my bare feet were swishing around in a hot spring.

  "That you need to join his group?" Dolores balanced a small, rectangular card against another small, rectangular card. She was in the water by my feet, hanging on the edge of the bank with her elbows squished into the mud.

  "Yes."

  "It's not the worst idea," Dottie splashed me as she dunked her head under water.

  "Yes, it is. It is the worst idea." I wiped water droplets off my nose.

  "Although the tiger and me have had our problems, I'm inclined to agree with Dot. It's not a bad idea."

  "You're both zupposed to be my friends." I burped.

  "Yeah, that's why we're sayin' it. Dadgumit, my house of cards fell again."

  Sisters Dolores and Dottie Fairfield were better known to most of Sundance as the tower witches. They were in their late seventies, but age hadn't slowed them down much. They both had a chunky silver braid running down their backs, they both had skin as white as a politician's teeth, and they both had drunk entirely too much wine tonight.

  The elder sister, Dolores, was building a house with their business cards. I swiped one off the ground and read it.

  Desert Vista Tower

  Wildflower and mineral hot spring tours

  Herbal remedies, blessings, spells

  Witches in residence: Dolores Fairfield, CWMW & Dorothy Fairfield, CEW

  The acronyms stood for certified white magic witch and certified earth witch respectively. A white magic witch draws her power from the light side of the magical spectrum. It isn't as powerful as dark magic, but is less likely to have soul-crushing repercussions. An earth, fire, air, or water witch draws magic from their element. These witches are born into magic, while white or dark magic witches are trained to use it.

  "Why are you playing with these?" I tossed the card at her, hiccupped, then finished the last few drops of my fifth margarita.

  "Lightweight," Dolores muttered. "Since we're opening the bar soon, Dot and I ordered new ones, so we don't need these anymore. We bought a sign, too. Did you see it when you pulled up?"

  Yes, I had. It was hard not to notice a silvery white neon sign with the words The Fairfield Witches' Interdimensional Watering Hole flashing in your face.

  "I was nearly blinded by the thing. I
think you need to put it higher up on the tower."

  Dolores scowled. "But then people will see it and want to come in."

  "Isn't that sort of the point of the business cards and the sign?" I asked.

  She harrumphed. "The point is to let in who I want to let in."

  "I keep telling her it doesn't work like that." Dottie swam to the side of the spring and wrapped her hand around a fresh bottle of wine. In a display of holiday spirit, her fingernails were painted orange and black, and she had little skulls on her pinkies. "We've also been arguing about the apostrophe at the end of witches. I say it's unnecessary."

  "And I say it's our bar and we're going to get possessive about it. It's going on the wine labels, too."

  "If you want that apostrophe, then you need to agree to hang the sign higher," Dottie said. "It's not fair if only you get your way, Dolores."

  "Fine. Why don't you ask that lizard Earp to hang the sign on the roof? He's your boyfriend, after all." For once, Dolores wasn't being facetious. Mr. Earp was a lizard—a Gila monster shifter, to be precise. He and Dottie were sweet on each other.

  With a titter that made me smile, Dottie nodded. "Okay. I'll ask Jedidiah. He's stopping by tomorrow anyway to pick up our little Charlie. You remember the desert tortoise we rescued? A friend of his has a tortoise sanctuary where Charlie can roam free." She gave me a wide-eyed look. "Not the bad kind of sanctuary, the good kind."

  "I know, Dottie." Made me sad that the word sanctuary had taken on such a negative connotation, but in the paranormal world, "benevolent sanctuaries" were a front for human government and private groups looking to weaponize paranormals for their own use.

  Not that humans came out and admitted the existence of sanctuaries—or, for that matter, paranormals. It was all a big secret, which was the way both the government and the paranormal world seemed to prefer it.

  "Thank you for the prickly pear margaritas." I poured myself another from a thermos Dottie had brought out to the hot spring. "They are yum."

  "You're welcome. But why aren't you spending your birthday with Alpha Blacke?" Dottie swam to the shallower end of the hot spring, plunked her wine bottle in the mud, and hoisted her nude body from the water, grabbing a towel on the way out. She was short, rounded, and soft like bread dough. The exact opposite of Dolores, who was tall, slim, and solid as a steel door.

  "Because he's being mean to me." I slurped half the margarita down. "I think this is out of liquor. I can't taste anything." I downed the rest and flung the cup away. Then I stood, shrugged out of my dress and bra, and cannonballed into the hot spring.

  "Quit splashing, will ya?" Dolores shielded her house of business cards when I surfaced. "I've got three levels going now."

  "I forgot my hair tie." I pulled the soaked ends of my hair over my shoulder. "Damn. I just washed it, too. Do you have a spell for drying hair—or maybe a microfiber towel?"

  "Up at the tower. Not here," Dottie replied.

  "Never mind. I'll just deal with it." I treaded water. "Why do you guys think me joining Lucas's's group is not a bad idea?"

  Dottie threw an electric blue muumuu over her head. "Because he can help protect you if you'll let him. Plus, you're in love with each other."

  "Hey, hey…" I shook my finger at the three Dotties staring down at me. "Nobody said anything about love. We're jus' having a good time."

  "Phfft." Dolores tossed the cards aside and sank back into the hot spring. "You've got it bad for the tiger and he's all dewy-eyed for you. There's no sense denying it. It's as plain as day."

  "Fine. I like him." I slammed my hand on the surface of the water, splashing myself in the face. I blinked away the droplets. "The thing ish, if I join the group, I can't be with him anymore and I don't want to give him up, okay?"

  "Why would you have to?" Dolores asked.

  "Because he'd be in a position of power over me. It wouldn't work. Besides, I like what we have now."

  "A purely sexual relationship?" Dolores cocked an eyebrow at me.

  "Yesh."

  "So, you're a horn dog."

  "Yesh, but you have to understand. The shex is really good." I squinted at her. "Don't look at me like that, Doloresh."

  "I'm not looking at you like anything." She dropped her head back and called out, "Dot, she's losing her s's again. No more booze."

  "Yesh more booze. It'sh my birthday, damn it." I slapped the water again, then laughed at the way my breasts floated on the surface. Then I stopped laughing and teared up. "He was sho mad at me today, you guysh."

  "Uh oh. She's moved into maudlin territory. Hurry up with the charm. We need to sober her up."

  "I'm on it." Dottie rummaged around in a wooden box beside the big, flat rock.

  "I don't want the shobering shpell." I sank into the hot spring up to my chin. "I want to be drunk."

  "Fine. But you're staying over. And if you ralph on the sofa, you're buying a new one." Dolores pulled herself out of the hot spring, dried off, and slipped into a black sweatsuit with tiny white rhinestone ghosts all over it.

  "I won't throw up." I burped. Hiccupped. Burped. "Um, maybe I could wear the sharm for a little while…"

  "Here you go." Dottie tossed the silver necklace over my head like a lasso. Instantly, I felt steadier. Still drunk, but not as close to throwing up.

  I examined the silver-starred globe charm. I wore one now that brought me peace when I was stressed, and a few months ago, I'd worn one to keep my telepathy under control. Not so long ago, some shifters had worn similar ones to keep me out of their heads. The charms all looked the same to me.

  "How do you tell these things apart, Dottie?"

  "There's different magic in them. Each spell has its own aura."

  The sobering worked a little too well. I was losing my happy. When I wasn't feeling ill or slurring my words anymore, I took the charm off and tossed it back to Dottie. "Thanks."

  I'd put it on again before driving home. For now, I was content to tread water and watch my boobs float in the heated mineral spring.

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the path outside the mesquite trees that ringed the hot spring. Someone was angry and wanted us to know it.

  "Damn it, Neely, where the hell have you been all night?"

  "Uh-oh," I said.

  "'Uh-oh' is right." Dolores wagged her finger at me. "You're in trouble."

  "There's no one answering the door at the tower. Where's the witch-in-training?"

  Chandra Smith, Blacke group second-in-command, ex-assassin, Lucas's best friend, and my occasional partner-in-crime, shoved aside the branches of the screwbean mesquite trees and thundered into the clearing surrounding the hot spring. The hyena shifter was a few inches taller than me and several pounds thinner, she had medium-length choppy black hair, dark-beige skin, and enormous brown eyes rimmed in kohl. On a normal day she wore a lot of black and leather and reminded me of Joan Jett. Today was a normal day.

  "Dolores made Tim mad. He hasn't been around for the last month," Dottie replied.

  Tim Carver, a water witch, had worked for the witches on and off since I met them. He and his husband Fred—a Blacke group bobcat shifter—lived in Sundance, which made Tim's commute nice and short. Unfortunately, these days he was more off than on due to his feud with Dolores.

  "That stuffy, robe-wearing hack turned an entire case of wine into water." Dolores crossed her arms and scowled. "He deserved it."

  "It was an accident, sister."

  "Bull," Dolores grumbled. "It was intentional. That witch is pure meanness."

  "Hi, Chandra," I called out brightly. "How are you?"

  She shook her head at me and glanced over at the witches. "Prickly pear margaritas?"

  "Yep. She's much better now. We had her wearing the sobering charm, but she took it off when she wasn't on the verge of yakking anymore."

  "She's not slurring her s's anymore, either," Dottie added.

  "She was that drunk?" Chandra slipped her cell phone into the back pocket of her jeans
and knelt beside the hot spring without allowing her knee to hit the mud. "Why are you getting wasted?"

  "It is my birthday and I am sad." I swam away from her.

  She rose, circled around to the other side of the spring. "Because Alpha told you to join the group for your own safety?"

  "Nope. Wait. He told you about that? He's got a big mouth." I floated on my belly, dipping my face into the water. This was a magical hot spring. The witches had once told me it eased arthritis, indigestion, mild forms of insanity, and the aftereffects of demonic possession.

  Too bad it didn't cure people bothering me.

  "Yeah, he told me. So, you're not mad about that?" She frowned down at me as I flipped onto my back. "Hang on a sec. Are you upset because you turned thirty?"

  I bolted upright in the water. "No. I hadn't thought about that very much, to be honest. Thanks a lot. Now I'm thinking about it and my buzz is wearing off."

  "No, it's not," Dolores muttered.

  Chandra tilted her head to one side, hid a grin. "Then why are you sad?"

  I swam up to her boots. "When I told Lucas I wouldn't join the Blacke group, he refused to listen to me. He walked out in a snit. He was real snitty to me and I didn't deserve it. Also, it's my birthday and he didn't say anything about it." I floated on my back. "Nobody but my witches here even remembered."

  "We'd never forget," Dolores said. "We've got your back."

  "Hey, I remembered your birthday." Chandra's brows drew together. "And frankly, I'm hurt that you didn't invite me to your birthday girls'-night-out, skinny-dipping, drunk-a-thon."

  "It was rather impromptu," Dottie said. "Neely showed up two hours ago demanding prickly pear margaritas. She made us light one of the lavender candles we sell in the gift shop and sing her the birthday song until we sounded like we meant it."

  "Good thing she brought cookies," Dolores muttered.

  "Next time I'll call you, Chandra. I promise." I hiccupped. "You can sing to me if you want. There are more candles in the shop."

  She grinned. "Later maybe."

  "Okay." I hiccupped again.

  "You're always welcome. Drop by any time after six, hyena. We'll be around." Dolores picked up a wine bottle, shook it, tossed it aside. "Bring sweets."