Page 108 of The Wolfing Hour

Twenty

Chapter Twenty

“Protect them,” I told Red. “Leaf to leaf, runner to runner, root to root, hold the line. You cannot wilt, no matter what our enemies do. Our people’s lives depend on your strength.”

Minerals in the soil sparkled like a desert sky at midnight.

If Floyd somehow managed to breach the park, the saguaros and soil would be the residents’ last line of defense. Bronwyn would do what she could, but working on Mason had left both her, and Margaux, physically and magically depleted.

“Your lives hold great meaning to me, and not only because they keep the protection spell strong.” I was being too formal, too stiff, but the moment felt so big, so important. “So, not only do I ask you to protect our people, I ask you to also keep yourselves safe.” I gently touched one of his spines, sure that the others felt my touch through him. “I love you.”

Red began to tremble, his spines quivering. Before my eyes, a tiny flower sprouted atop the small saguaro. The creamy white petals unfurled, revealing a fragrant, sunny yellow center.

He’d bloomed.

For me.

It was an impossibility given his young age, yet there it was, small and mighty, smelling like sweet fruit and evoking memories of a lonely teenage girl lying in the shade of a saguaro arm imparting her deepest secrets to her only friend.

A gift.

“Thank you,” I said.

Once the park was as secure as we could make it, I sent Ronan a text telling him where I was going, and the boys and I piled into the Mini. Someone had cleaned Mason’s blood off the backseat, and I was grateful for it. So were the guys.

We sped out of the parking lot, hanging a sharp left and barreling toward the highway. I sent a supplication to the goddesses that I wouldn’t return to a smoking black patch of magically deconsecrated land, but I didn’t care about the structures if my people and saguaros were safe. Buildings could be rebuilt.

I glimpsed my reflection in the mirror before setting my gaze on the road again. All sides of me were represented in my appearance. It was as if a gradual smoothing out of features was taking place, a blending of witch and demon into what would eventually be me.

We weren’t all the way there yet, but I had faith we’d make it.

My demon side spoke up, and then the earth witch, proving that despite my splintered nature, my three sides were at least aligned.

I will keep you safe.

As will I.

“Thanks. But in your zeal to protect me, don’t step in too soon. I have a plan.” That was a stretch. I had a hunch based on my patchy memory, an address I’d coaxed out of an unsure Bronwyn, and a cemetery demon’s promise.

And I couldn’t depend on any of them.

I flicked my gaze to the rearview mirror. Fennel and Cecil were uncharacteristically silent, watchful. I didn’t blame them. That they’d agree to come with me at all still felt like a miracle. I’d apologized and thanked them so many times Cecil had taken to pelting me with parking lot gravel to get me to stop.

“Either of you notice the black SUV with the limousine window tint behind us?” I asked. “It’s been following us since we pulled out of the lot.”

Cecil climbed up the seat to peer out the back window. Fennel stood on his hind legs beside the gnome.

“Always a black SUV with these wolves. What’s wrong with a nice VW bug? Or a beige sedan? They’re not even trying to camouflage themselves at this point.”

Cecil slid back into the car seat and hooked himself in. Fennel hunkered down beside him. They knew my sarcasm meant I was nervous, which meant I was about to do something desperate.

“Waiting for Mr. SUV to make his play is out of the question. We go first. When I hit this next intersection, I’ll move fast.” I flicked on the radio, and KLXX was playing BTO’s hit, “Let it Ride.” Excellent soundtrack for my impending vehicular mayhem.

I sent a mental thank you to whatever psychic, omniscient, omnipotent being manned the station then breathed through my nerves and tried to imagine myself as a lavender bud floating on a warm summer breeze, even as I felt like a brick dropping down a bottomless well.

One glance at the cell phone I’d clamped to the air conditioner vent told me it was barely eight p.m. Goddess. It felt like ten minutes before midnight. “Longest day ever, and we’re not nearly done.”

The stoplight by the old drive-in turned yellow a quarter mile before I reached it.Perfect.