Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 10

After a night spentworrying about what the Mage of St. Louis will demand in return for hisassistance, morning comes sooner than I wish. The alarm shatters under my fist.It's the fifth one in two months. Ike keeps a box of the cheap things in alinen closet. He bought me a nice, expensive, heavy-duty alarm clock once. Ithad taken three fist-bashings to shut it off. He'd bitched about the waste ofmoney as he'd stitched up my hand. A lesson learned for everyone. There is nosign of Princess in my room, but there is a book I don’t recognize on the footof my bed.

I follow the sound ofchatter and good-natured grousing to the front porch. Hank and Ike havegathered most of my pack, including Az, onto the lawn for their morning jog.Aside from all the health benefits the activity provides, it is an excellentoutlet for the extra energy that builds up during the night. The last thing Ineed is a bunch of hyper, grouchy Shifters fighting over the first cup ofcoffee.

Speaking of coffee, amug of hot liquid ambrosia appears in front of my face. Greta makes sure I havea good grip on the cup before lowering herself onto the edge of the porchbeside me. If I didn't love her like a sister, and think of her husband as abrother, I'd kiss her. Full on the mouth. She's an angel. She's also a littlefrightening in the pre-dawn hours.

"They likeher," she says, cradling her own mug. Her eyes, like mine, are on thepink-and-blonde figure stretching on the grass. Az looks like a fluorescenthighlighter in a drawer full of Sharpies.

She chats with theguys as if she's known them all her life. Jose is glued to her side, which isgratifying to note. I have no doubt that he'll protect her from any threat –even if it comes from our pack. At something Oscar, a weremink, says to her,she grabs one ankle and stretches her foot over her head. And then smacks hertoes against Oscar's cheek. Points to her for excellent balance and holding herown with the biggest flirt in the pack.

Ike whistles sharply.The chatter stops. He glances at Greta. She gives him a small finger wave. Hewhistles again and then sets out down the street. The others fall into linebehind him. Az is smack in the middle of the parade with Jose in front of herand Hank behind her.

"Yeah, theydo," I finally respond, leaning back and crossing my ankles. The coiledball of tension in my stomach is nothing new. It's an automatic response tohaving so many pack members out of eyesight. That they have an unknown variablein their group doesn't factor in at all. Nope. Not one teeny, weeny bit.

Ha! I can't even lieto myself.

"She's a goodaddition. We needed new fresh blood. Things were getting too predictable."Greta nudges my shoulder with hers. "Too easy."

"She's two tonsof trouble in a hundred-pound flesh sack. It's likely she'll get us killed.Given that she's an overachiever, odds are by the end of month we'll all bedead or insane."

"That littlebitch Sally's been growing the wolfsbane for months. That witch's master hasbeen operating in the area for who knows how long. You can't blame all this onAz."

"Yes Ican."

This time, the nudgeis not so gentle. "Be nice. She's ours now." Greta's lips curl up ina teasing smile. "For which you have no one to blame but yourself."

Most people thinkthat Ike is my second-in-command because he was the first male member of mypack. Most people are, of course, idiots. Greta is the dominant in hermarriage. She's my second. Has been since day one. If anything were to happento me, she's the only one I'd trust with my pack.

Greta's logic issound. The problems in Houston started long before Princess was dumped on me.That doesn't mean I'm letting Greta or Az off the hook so easily. I'm all forgirl power, but I don't think Greta understands just how much of a pain in myass our newest pack member actually is. Alphas don't have to bother with suchpetty things as logic.

"We're all goingto have to wear protection amulets so that her father doesn't wipe our memoriesin our sleep."

Greta shrugs ashoulder and hops off the porch. She leaves her mug between us. "Actually,I've heard that memory wiping spells are usually done with the subject fullyconscious. It is supposedly a fairly painless procedure."

Seeing as Greta caresas little for magic as I do, I don't have to guess who told her that littlegem. Well, that explains what she and Princess were chatting about into the weehours of the morning. Normal girls talk about clothes and shoes and boys duringa sleepover. Not mine. No. Of course not.

My phone rings justas I'm about to join Greta's stretch routine. It's Matt fucking Anders. Myfinger hovers over the 'reject' button. Forget blaming Az for the thundercloudhanging over my head. He's the reason I'm in this mess.

"Hey,buddy," is Matt's response to my grunted greeting.

"I already havea case, and you're way the hell out of favors."

I abhor Matt'schuckle. It's that slick politician laugh. The one that gives me the nearlyuncontrollable urge to rip out his spine. "From what I hear, that lastfavor has turned out to work well for you. Perhaps you owe me one afterall."

Obviously, we havediffering opinions on the subject. "What do you want?"

"What do youknow about Claire Eras?"

A criminal dies incustody and the DA gets involved. Not a big surprise. I should have beenexpecting Matt's call, but I've been distracted by spell-inked voids, memoryamulets, and the overall feeling of impending doom.

"Witch. Bitch.Pawn. Dead." After a moment's contemplation, I have another description."Fucking nuts."

Matt doesn't let itgo at that. Wordy man that he is, he likes things spelled out for him. Noimagination at all. "Greer says you have proof that Eras didn't commitsuicide."

Dealing with the lawenforcement community can be a lot like that old game of telephone. Nothing yousay ever comes back the same. "I have a magic-detecting void who says thatsomeone used magic to kill the witch. Nothing that will stand up incourt."

"Can she getproof?"

"I don't know.You saw her that night. She's unreliable." Az will have to forgive me forthe lie. If Matt, the only non-pack member in the area who knows what she is,thinks she's unstable then he won't try to use her for political or personalpurposes. Given the act she put on for Greer, I don't think she'll have aproblem performing for Matt if she has to.

"Someone diedwhile in police custody. I don't need to tell you - ," Matt starts.

"So don't tellme. We'll do what we can but no promises."

"You'll keep mein the loop." It's a demand rather than a question.

"We'll call youbefore we call Greer." I hope it sounds more reassuring than it actuallyis, considering I don't plan on calling Greer until absolutely necessary. Thefewer people involved, the better the likelihood everyone in my packwill survive.

Matt tries to pry afew additional promises out of me. I hang up on the bastard. When he callsback, I give in to the urge to hit 'reject'. Not even seven in the morning andI'm on the verge of a migraine. Pity my coffee mug is empty.

Running with Gretaclears my head. She doesn't make idle conversation to fill the silence. It's justthe two of us and the sound of pounding feet on the pavement. I can let my minddrift away from thoughts of Mages and voids and magic. Nothing but crispmorning air and birds and a warm hand on my arm. No. That's not right.

Before I can fill inthe blanks about the mystery grabber, I fling off whatever is stupid enough totry surprising a Shifter and step between the threat and Greta. Greta stopsrunning and jogs back to me. I don't have to look at her to know that her clawsare out and her teeth are bared. She's feeding off my aggression.

"Ow. Ow.Ow."

I know that voice.I'm starting to hear that voice in my dreams – and they're not always pleasant,fluffy bunny dreams. Greta relaxes. I can't turn down the anger quite soeasily.

Az is in a heap onthe sidewalk a few feet away. I don't smell blood so she can't be too injured.Then again, I hadn't been particularly gentle when I tossed her off me. Stupidvoid should know better than to sneak up on a Shifter.

How did she manage tosneak up on a Shifter? I was in the zone, but not that deep into it.Teleportation is magic so that's not an answer. Was she waiting to pop out likea deranged stalker? Why isn't she jogging with Ike?

"So manyquestions," she groans, slowly climbing to her feet. She swipes at a vividpink abrasion on her cheek. "Anyone ever tell you that your brain is likea pinball machine?"

"Tell me you'renot reading my damn mind, Princess."

"I do notpossess the power of telepathy," she grits out with the air of one who'shad to make the claim a time or two too many. "Your face is expressive.And you always act exactly how I expect you to act."

There's nothing moredisappointing than having a woman tell you that you're boring. Even if it's awoman you're not looking to score with. As if Az hasn't emasculated me enoughin the brief time we've known each other.

"What're youdoing here?" I figure that's the most important question. If she managesto skip out on answering the others, at least I'll have something.

"I needed totalk to you."

Oh joy. It's teeth-pullingtime again. "Princess."

"I figuredsomething out. And we need to talk about the memory protection. It has to bedone before we talk to Uncle Evan."

"I thought youtrusted him."

"He'sCouncil." She sighs and rubs her left arm. "I want to trust him, butI don't know anymore. I thought about it a lot last night. All night, actually.He and Dad fought over a chunk of Alabama a decade ago. I don't trust him notto use me against Dad."

"And he wouldwipe our memories to take us from you."

"Maybe not."

"That's still amaybe yes."

She nods rather thanadmit it aloud. It's good enough for me. The scent of blood floats on thebreeze. She's opened up one of her scratches. Beside me, Greta growls.

"Calm down, MommaFox," I mutter. She swipes at the back of my head. Fortunately it's ahalf-hearted gesture that doesn't quite make me see stars. "Let's go,Princess. We can talk while we run."

She looks at me as ifI'm the crazy one. "I can't keep up with you. I can barely keep upwith Ike." She winces like a kid caught stealing a cookie. "Speakingof the drill sergeant, I should probably get back to him before hefreaks."

As if on cue, Greta'sphone rings. She huffs in annoyance. Good. I'm glad someone else is finallyrecognizing what a pain in the ass our void is.

"Yes, honey, wehave her. She needed to speak with Rick." She backs away from us with thephone still to her ear. "Honestly, I think it's separation anxiety."

"It's not,"Az protests. She glares at me. Sure, this whole mess is my fault. Why the hellnot. "It's not."

"Whatever."I turn around. "Hop on."

I have to explainwhat a piggy-back ride is. Three times. Her grip around my waist is too tight,and she's holding herself too stiffly. Fortunately she's light so it won'tthrow me off much. I jog to catch up with Greta.

Az swallows. Oh hell no. "Throw up on me and it'llbe the last thing you do."

For once she doesn'targue with me. She just nods. By the time we're side-by-side with Greta, she'srelaxed enough to flow with my movements. I'd tried telling her that it waslike riding a horse but that hadn't helped any.

"I don't haveseparation anxiety," Az tells Greta. "I wanted to tell Ricky that Ihave an idea for how to locate our master of evil."

"So tell Ricky,"Greta laughs.

"Does this ideasomehow get us out of contacting the Mage of St. Louis?"

"No."

Ah, well. Can't faulta guy for hoping. "Spill, Princess."

Her plan involveslooking into the Record of Witches to compile a list of those who had beenejected from covens or put on probation. The covenless witches could be Claireclones who could lead us back to their master. Access to the RoW is open tomembers of law enforcement, and I just so happen to have a password. There area lot of 'coulds' in Az's plan, but it's worth exploring. Claire's alreadyproven that the flunkies are the weak links.

"Also, I shouldtell you that you were being followed."

"What?"Clearly, she and I are going to have to have a conversation on informationpriorities.

"Well, notfollowed-followed. More like a magical tracker. It made my hair itch."

"Where isit?"

"Destroyed. Yousorta threw me on it. Which hurt. A lot."

I won't apologize forthat. Someone in the pack has to remain impervious to her. "Who put itthere? Was it your father?"

She rests her chin onmy shoulder. The bouncing of her head makes her teeth clack together, but shedoesn't move it. "No. It felt old. There wasn't one following Ike. It wasfocused on you."

Whatever plans I hadfor the day are officially toast. I won't be getting out of that trip to themagic store, either. Az and I are going to have a little pow-wow on how to beefup magical security and the house and figure out how many protection amulets wecan realistically stick on my people.

The migraine hitsbefore we finish our second mile.