Chapter 17

Muted whispering sounded in Quinn’s head as soon after the two of them passed through Everett and onto the Hwy 2 bridge that stretched over the Snohomish River.

The Opari sensed he was coming.

It 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 big 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 skin on his shoulder blades prickled immediately.

A witch.

Quinn had plenty of reasons to dislike witches. Actually, they preferred to be known as witch-crafters, but he’d always called then witches (in his head), part as rebellion, part because as far as he was concerned the term perfectly outlined their true nature. The paranoia and the arrogance that came along their 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 f•©king road and on a blind curve to boot. What the hell were you thinking?”

 ”Of course, I was. My car broke down a ways 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 f•©king 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 sort of 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 him back to the present.

Her eyes moved to the scar on his face.

“What happened to your 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 could heal her so I can find out who her people are.”

“What do you mean 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 him, a frown on her face.

“Lan, that little shifter is big 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.

She didn’t waste any time getting down to business, as soon as the truck started the glyphs flared hot. He glanced over at her. Her big blue eyes stared straight ahead, remote and placid. But her hands that rested on her lap were busy twisting and signing like a rapping singing gang banger. She muttered a cantrip and looked over at him with an 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 grinned. She must have caught the mockery because her mouth went white lipped.

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

This was 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 in love 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 sent you to watch for me?”

“Some in both the McNeil and Sabina’s 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 f•©k alone. Who’s the ‘we’ you’re talking about?”

“Us.”

The sisters. He groaned. “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.

“We’re best friends. Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves. These days we sometimes have different agendas.”

“Charming seemed anxious I show up.” Quinn said.

“She had no choice, Althea commanded.”

Quinn groaned inside. The four of them had been a pain in his ass since fourth grade.

“What happened to your face? Where did you run off to that summer? Why the hell did you up and join the stupid Navy and with not a word to anyone, not even us.”

“It was a bad summer.”

“What does that mean.” She kept glancing at his scar. Her hands rested on her lap spell quietly, her spell-signing momentarily distracted.

Quinn decided to tell her the truth. He was suddenly tired of hiding.

“Cayden and Anna sent me into the Murk on the other side of the Opari.”.

Mandy blinked.

“Seriously? That is bull-crap, where did you really go.”

Quinn didn’t respond. He rubbed the scar that ran from his right eye to his ear.

He had a flash of memory.

The Murk was the borderland between the mundane world and the Alfheim, the realm of the Fae. His “summer” had lasted seven years and seven days in that place, with occasional forays into Alfheim. Time flows differently in the Murk.