Page 17 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Think, Pete. You know Helga.” Crimson dumped the contents of her scrying bowl into the sink. “Where would she take Destiny?”

“I don’t know!” He flung his arms into the air and paced the length of the kitchen. “I don’t know anything anymore. I’ve forgotten everything.”

Without his memories, he was about as useful as a bur stuck to a rabbit’s butt. His fated mate was kidnapped, multiple lives were on the line, the end of days was fast approaching, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about any of it because he didn’t know his head from a hole in the ground.

A hole. Why did?—?

“You haven’t forgotten; you just can’t recall,” Crimson said. “There’s a difference.”

“Is there? Because I sure as hell can’t tell.” He stopped pacing and tapped his foot.

“Sir, if I may?” Max raised his paw, and Pete nodded. “You’re known in our realm for your vivid imagination and your ability to find unique solutions to problems no one else can solve. Perhaps if you focused on the knowledge you have, rather than fretting over the unknown, you could ask yourself the right questions and find your mate.”

Aside from the gut-punch reminder that he’d lost his fated mate, that was the most sensible thing he’d heard since…well, since as long as he could remember.

“Where in New Orleans would a day-walking vampire goose with anger issues take an earthbound angel to drain her?” His stomach lurched at the thought, an image of an undead fowl with fangs sucking on Destiny’s neck.

“How would that even work?” Mike asked. “Geese don’t have lips. How could they cover the wound?”

“Can they even suck?” Crimson asked.

Mike scratched his head. “Maybe if she opens her mouth all the way, her victim’s flesh will mold to the back of her mouth.”

“That’s how she does it.” Crimson raised her index finger. “She deep-throats their necks.”

Their banter morphed the intrusive image in Pete’s mind into something he could never unsee. He shifted his weight to stop his tapping foot, and a tingle formed in the right side of his brain. It spread over the entire side of his head, wrapping around to the front and flashing a vision behind his eyes.

Destiny sat on a concrete floor, her hands bloodied from struggling against chains. The image vanished as quickly as it had formed, but something else, a feeling…no, a knowing…wriggled into his mind.

He slapped his hand on the counter. “Are there any iron mines in Louisiana?”

Max made a chittering sound and clasped his paw together. “You sense her.”

“Barely. She’s surrounded by iron ore.”

“Why would she take an angel to iron mine?” Crimson grabbed a laptop from a shelf and opened it on the counter. “I didn’t think it affected angels like it does fae.”

“To keep me from finding her.” Pete peered over her shoulder as she pulled up a map and searched for iron mines.

Mike’s phone rang, and he pressed it to his ear before striding down the hall. Max climbed onto the counter, and Crimson gave him a little scratch behind the ears before zooming in on her search results.

“Looks like our choices are Michigan and Minnesota.” She pointed to the red pins on the map.

“It’s this one. I’m sure of it.” Pete tapped the pin on the screen, and it opened a tab with information about the mine. “It’s a museum now. She’s holding her there, but I can’t imagine why she’d do it in a public place.”

Crimson lifted one shoulder. “Maybe it’s a failsafe. She knows you can’t hop in and out without causing a scene, so she took her to a public place just in case you found her.”

He closed his eyes, clearing his mind of everything but the vision he’d seen of his angel. Breathing deeply, he focused on the ether, searching for any information the universe was willing to give up.

It gave him nothing.

“Is the bakery unlocked?” Mike asked as he returned to the kitchen. “Richard is struggling big time. Katrina’s got him subdued, but if he doesn’t get some cake ASAP, he’s going to clear out every grocery store and farm in the parish and cause a real famine.”

“There isn’t any cake.” Pete picked up Max and cradled him to his chest. “Helga destroyed everything.”

Mike’s eyes widened. “We need those cakes. Only an angel can make them.”

“She was planning to contact her boss, but she didn’t get the chance.” A demon doing demonic things was the least of Pete’s worries. “Can you open a portal to the iron mine on the screen? To the concrete room inside where Destiny is. I have to save her.”

“I’ll call my parents,” Crimson said. “The recipe must be recorded somewhere.”

“Your parents are angels?” Max asked.

“Long story.” She typed on the computer before waving a hand at him. “Send them on their way. I’ll handle the cakes.”

Mike lifted his arm, his right palm glowing red. “I can get you outside the mine, but you’ll have to find the room on your own. When demons try to portal underground, we always end up in Hell.”

“That’s fine.” Pete would find her. All he needed was to get close. Then he’d sense his fated mate.

“Since it’s a tourist spot, you might shift before you portal. People won’t bat an eye at a rabbit and a raccoon appearing out of nowhere, but a man holding a raccoon is sure to draw attention.”

“Right.” He set Max on the floor and called on his rabbit. Pastel sparkles gathered around him as his body morphed, his clothes magically absorbing into his animal form.

On all fours, he twitched his nose and looked at Max. “Are you ready for this?”

Max saluted. “I’ll follow you anywhere, sir.”

Mike sliced a six-inch gash into the fabric of reality and peeked inside, looking right and left before closing it. “There’s a wooded area a few hops from the entrance. I’ll send you there.”

The demon swiped his arm near the floor, creating a glowing red tear in the ether. Pete hopped through without a second thought, and Max scurried in behind him. A rabbit and a raccoon, ready to save the day. Weren’t they an unlikely rescue crew?

Then again, they were only going up against a vampire goose. Surely, they could take her down. And if it came down to it, beheading or an iron stake to the heart would take her out completely.

He shuddered at the thought. “I’m a painter, not a fighter.”

“Sir?” Max asked.

Pete shook, fluffing his fur. “Nothing. I don’t know where that came from.” Because he would fight to the death to save his Destiny. He’d take on a gaggle of geese, a scurry of squirrels, and a flamboyance of flamingos…all vampires…all at once, with his paws tied to his tail.

No question about it.

He hopped through a bed of snapdragons that should have been in bloom. Pausing, he twitched his nose, inhaling the scents of earth and arbor, car exhaust, and blacktop. Not a single spring flower was in bloom, not even the local skunk cabbage.

“Poor Eostre,” Max said. “All the realms will suffer if you can’t save her.”

“Surely an elfen goose couldn’t trap a goddess.” He hopped along the edge of the grassy area, the blades just tall enough to hide them.

“Helga is goddess-touched like you, sir.” Max crawled behind him. “She can do things no normal elfen can, and now that she’s a vampire, who knows?”

They made their way alongside the outbuilding without being noticed. A hill emerged from the ground behind it, a locked metal gate blocking the entrance to the mine. Pete crouched low, flattening his ears against his back as a guide led a group of tourists wearing yellow hard hats toward it.

The docent unclipped a keyring from his belt and unlocked the gate, holding it open for the dozen or so people as they stepped inside. He glanced around the area and then pulled the gate closed, locking it behind him.

Pete lifted his ears, turning them this way and that, listening for signs of predators or another group of tourists. “Why can I unlock anything I touch?”

“How else could you sneak into people’s backyards to hide eggs?” Max took a cautious step toward the entrance.

Satisfied with the silence, Pete high-tailed it through the gate and pressed himself against a wall inside the entrance. His heart thumped on overdrive, and he tried to breathe deeply as Max attempted to squeeze through the bars.

His upper torso fit through easily, but his belly stopped him from sliding all the way through. Grabbing the bars, he pushed with all his might, his jaw clenching and his eyes tightening as he strained. “I shouldn’t have eaten so much frosting while I was hiding from Helga. It seems to have gone straight to my hips.”

He pushed and wiggled, making zero progress before he slumped between the grates, hanging there like a raccoon-shaped rug on a clothesline. “A little help, please, sir?”

With no humans in sight, Pete shifted, and thank the goddess he really was a fae and not just any old shifter. Fully clothed, he could pretend to be a lost tourist if he got caught. As a buck-naked man…not so much.

“Are you sure it’s not the endless supply of chocolate eggs that’s the problem?” He offered a hand and used his other to tuck in the belly in question as he pulled.

“Couldn’t be.” Max laughed, the contraction of his abdomen helping him slip through. He rose onto his back legs and brushed out his fur. “Easter candy honors the goddess. Those calories don’t count.”

“Good point. Come on. She’s this way.” Pete trekked through the arched passage, his legs growing heavier and heavier with every step. If he still doubted his faery origins—which he didn’t—being inside this mine would’ve been the definitive proof he needed. Iron was a bitch.

Luckily, it was iron ore surrounding them and not solid iron. The impurity of ore weakened its effects on the fae, but not nearly enough for Pete’s liking.

“You doing okay, buddy?” He paused and turned to Max, whose breathing had become labored.

“I…” He sucked in a breath. “Will follow…”

“Me anywhere. Got it.” He kneeled with his back toward his new old friend. “Climb on.”

“Thank you, sir.” Max clutched his shirt with all four paws, hauling himself up, and they continued deeper into the mine.

Pete’s chest tightened and heated, the invisible tether tying him to his fated mate vibrating and pulling, guiding him through the maze of tunnels that branched out in every direction. He made a left and then a right, nearly sliding down a steep slope before it leveled out into a dead end.

No, not a dead end. A narrow tunnel jutted out to the left, and his mate bind yanked him through. He had to crouch, lest his head knock against a wooden beam, and the tunnel grew so dark, he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.

He stepped on something, his ankle rolling, throwing him off balance. His shoulder hit the dirt wall before he could fall, and he kneeled, finding tracks on the ground. With a hand against the wall, he continued, his legs carrying him as fast as the debilitating iron ore would allow. The tunnel made a gradual right turn, and light emanated from a room at the end.

“Des—” He started to call to her. He knew she was there, could feel her waiting for him a few yards away, but he could also sense someone…something…else. Fae magic.

He peeled Max off his back and set him on the ground. “If Helga is in there, I want you to stay back. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Max lowered his gaze and picked at the fur on his belly.

“You’re going to follow me regardless, aren’t you?”

The raccoon bared his teeth—his way of smiling. “Anywhere you go.”

Pete nodded and crept toward the room, pausing outside the entrance and holding up a hand. Stilling, quieting his breathing, he listened. Two sets of labored breaths. No movement.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Destiny whispered.

At the sound of her voice, he could be cautious no more. He strode into the room, his heart wrenching at the sight of his fated mate, bloodied and bruised, and the goddess, barely breathing, the shine in her aura gone.

Destiny gasped and jerked her head up, her vertebra cracking as she turned toward him. She squinted, and a single tear rolled down her cheek. “Pete?” she rasped. “Is that really you?”

“In the fluff.” He ran to her, dropping to his knees and laying his hands over the chain binding her wrists.

It didn’t yield.

He frowned, focusing on the lock and willing it open, but nothing happened. “What the…?”

He grabbed the shackle on her ankle and took a deep breath. “My fae magic always works when I need it, so why…won’t…you…budge?”

Destiny grasped his hands. “They’re iron. Grab something from the shelf, and we can pick it.”

As he rose to his feet, an ear-piercing squawk penetrated the room. He spun toward the doorway, and a flash of feathers and fangs zoomed toward him. Helga opened her bill and clamped onto his nose, rotating her legs like she was riding a bunnycycle, the razor-sharp claws at the ends of her webbed feet tearing into his neck.

She flapped her wings with vampire speed and strength, throwing him off balance. He careened backward, crashing into the shelf, sending all the contents flying across the room.

“It’s mine! Honk, honk, ” Helga said, her mouth full of his face. “It’s all mine.”

He grabbed her by the neck and flung her away, but she didn’t tumble across the floor like he’d hoped. Instead, her eyes glowed red, and she caught the air with her wings. She flew toward Destiny, wrapping them around her and pressing her fangs against her neck.

“Take one more step and I’ll rip out her artery.” She tightened her wings around his angel’s shoulders. “Bound magic means no healing, means death in seconds.” She hissed, and a bit of drool hung from the side of her bill.

“Let her go.” He raised his hands, cutting a warning gaze to Max, who quietly crept into the shadows to hide. “She has nothing to do with this.”

Helga honk-laughed. “You really are a clueless little rabbit. You can stay in this realm with what’s left of your goddess. I’m going to drain your angel dry.”

The goose flapped a wing, opening a portal to the fae realm. Pete kicked a long, thin nail toward Destiny and lunged for her. She grabbed it, but Helga yanked her through the hole, slamming it shut behind them. His outstretched arms met air, and he rolled across the ground, knocking his head against the concrete wall.