Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6) Page 6

  Joey scanned his face, her heart in her throat. He was right. Colt had turned himself in and taken Chris’s place behind bars. She’d always be grateful to him for that. But that didn’t help to suppress her urge to get him out by any means necessary. If an alpha command could prevent her from having to stage a jailbreak, it would be worth it. But they still had time. She was willing to wait a little more, so she nodded.

  “Okay, we’ll do it your way. But for the record, that’s bullshit. You weren’t the only one who didn’t do anything about what was in the woods.”

  “I’m the one who told Leta her mother was there.”

  “Which brings us right back to the duplicitous bitch who started this whole mess.” Sighing, Joey started to walk back to the meeting room, her heels clicking softly on the linoleum.

  Chris caught up with her easily and threaded his fingers with hers. “Thank you.” He kissed the back of her hand.

  Joey just nodded, then turned her attention to the guard in the hallway who unlocked the door and let them back inside. They found Colt and Jon where they’d left them, sitting opposite each other at the table.

  Chris walked over to Colt and put a hand on his shoulder, prompting the sandy-haired inmate to look up at him.

  “If you don’t want Leta involved, we won’t involve her. But think about it, okay? Think about if it’s worth going moon mad behind bars—or worse, exposing our secret to the human authorities.”

  Gratitude shone in Colt’s eyes, which turned misty as he nodded. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

  Jon made a frustrated noise and shoved his chair back, stood, and marched for the door, signaling the end of the meeting. The guard wouldn’t leave Joey and Chris in the room with Colt without Jon.

  Joey pushed aside her frustration and leaned down to hug Colt again. “Don’t worry about Jon. He just doesn’t like to lose.”

  But despite her reassuring words, Joey was worried. For Jon, for Chris, for Colt… the list went on, a constant litany as they left the building. She wished her mother was still alive, so she could ask her advice.

  As it was, she just had to do her best and hope like hell it was good enough.

  Chris woke to his phone ringing. He glanced at the clock as he groped for the device, still half asleep but wary of the late-night wake up. It was just after two in the morning, and the list of people whose calls would ring through at this hour was short.

  He squinted briefly at the bright display in the darkness before answering it. Cathy. Definitely not good news. He sat up as he hit answer, rubbing his face with his free hand.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Chris. It’s Cathy. I’m sorry to wake you, but I didn’t want to wait until morning.”

  “It’s fine. What’s up?” He glanced at Joey, prepared to get out of bed and take the call out into the hall, but her eyes were open, and she rested a hand on his leg, silently letting him know it was fine to stay.

  “It’s about Naomi.” Was that a tremor in her voice?

  Chris tensed. “She’s been found?”

  “Yes, but…” There was a long pause, and Chris knew what she was going to say before she said it. “She’s dead, child.”

  Joey’s hand tightened on his leg as she pushed herself up to sit beside him. Her hearing was good enough to hear the other side of the conversation. A glance at her confirmed that her eyes were misty, expression pained.

  Chris forced himself to take a deep breath, pushing down the wellspring of grief. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Thanks for letting us know.” He shifted his phone from one hand to the other so he could curl his arm around Joey’s shoulders.

  “Ethan has called an emergency meeting of the coven, if you want to drop by,” Cathy said. It went without saying that Ethan hadn’t extended the invitation. The coven leader would probably be pissed if he found out Cathy had gotten the wolves involved.

  “Where and when?” Chris asked.

  “As soon as everyone can get there. I’m on my way now. Justin is with me. I’ll have him text you the location.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Chris wasn’t sure what else to say. He wasn’t about to commit to attending without talking to Joey first, but he was glad to know she had Justin to go with her. She was safe, or at least safer than she’d be on her own. “Do you know anything about—”

  “I’ve told you all I know. I’m sorry. I need to go, but I’ll talk to you soon. One way or another.”

  “Alright, thanks again.”

  Chris ended the call and dropped his phone on the nightstand, then wrapped both arms around Joey and closed his eyes. “You heard all that?”

  “Yeah. That sucks. I can’t believe she’s gone. Do you want to crash the meeting?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Chris sighed and pressed his nose into her hair, breathing in her familiar scent and taking comfort in the closeness. “Ethan won’t appreciate it.”

  “Do we care what Ethan would appreciate, at this point?”

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.” Chris chuckled without humor, knowing full well he was being a broken record. “But we’ve gone from two missing witches to one missing and one dead… that’s an unfortunate escalation, and I’m even less inclined to stay out of it than I was before. It might be his coven in danger, but it’s also members of our family.”

  Joey rubbed soothing circles on his back, her head tucked against his neck. “What’s the worst that can happen? He throws us out?”

  “Yeah, I suppose. It may have lasting ramifications for relations between the coven and the pack, though.”

  Joey squeezed him, then climbed over him and out of the bed. “Fuck relations. We’ll sort it out when the dust settles. For now, they need us whether they’re willing to admit it or not.”

  Chris smiled faintly. It was such a Joey thing to say, but he couldn’t disagree—not this time. “I guess Cathy wouldn’t have suggested it if she didn’t think we should put in an appearance.”

  “That too,” Joey said, shimmying into a pair of cutoff jeans shorts.

  He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, turning on a light so they didn’t have to dress in the dark.

  “Should we bring anyone else with us?” he wondered aloud.

  “Nah. Ethan will be annoyed enough to see the two of us. And Justin will be there, too.”

  Chris nodded and grabbed his phone, noting the text from Justin had already arrived. As they headed downstairs, footsteps light in an effort not to wake the rest of the house, he covered a jaw-cracking yawn. It was going to be a long night.

  6

  It was a solid forty-minute drive from Granite Falls to the quaint little 24-hour coffee shop where the coven was set to meet. By the time they arrived, Joey was twitchy from bad convenience store coffee—and prior to that moment, she would’ve rejected the notion of any sort of coffee being bad out of hand. Sure, she preferred the good stuff, but she didn’t consider herself that particular.

  From the looks of the group of witches huddled in the corner, they were in deep discussion. Tears flowed freely and a few tempers were high, but Joey couldn’t catch even a hint of conversation from their direction. Their lips were moving, but even her wolf ears weren’t picking anything up.

  “Anti-eavesdropping ward,” Justin said as he rose from a chair by the door to greet them. Even running on a few hours’ sleep, he was remarkably well put-together. Joey both envied and hated him a little for that. She felt like a bumpkin in her cutoffs, tank top, and messy bun.

  Joey lowered her gaze to the floor, and found the faint glowing runes ringing the little group easily enough. “Guess we’ll have to get closer.”

  “I don’t think they want to be interrupted,” Justin cautioned.

  Joey shrugged and started across the room. The sooner they got this over with, the better. “Didn’t come here to watch.”

  Chris caught her hand, delaying her a moment, but his eyes lingered on Justin. “Would you please get us both a cup of coffee?” He reached for
his wallet with his free hand, but Justin waved him off.

  “Sure, I’ll get it,” Justin said. “One with cream and sugar and one black, right?”

  Chris nodded while Joey dug her heels in and dragged him toward the group in the corner. Cathy noticed them first and nodded from afar, but soon enough everyone facing the door of the coffee shop spotted the late arrivals barging in. Joey pulled Chris past the ward without hesitation, but by then the conversation had halted.

  “Hi, sorry to interrupt. Which one of you is Ethan?” Joey asked.

  A dark-haired, goateed man in a black tee shirt and black jeans stood and frowned at them. “I’m Ethan, and I’m not sure how you knew where to find us”—the pointed glance he shot at Cathy said otherwise—“but this is a private meeting.”

  Joey hooked a foot around the leg of a nearby chair and pulled it over. “This is a public coffee shop. We’ve got as much right to be here as you do.”

  Chris muttered something about a bull in a china shop, then cleared his throat. “Pardon the intrusion, but we wanted to offer our condolences and see if there’s any way we can help.”

  “And you are?” A woman with long blond hair asked, looking down her nose at them.

  Joey flashed her a small smile and parked her butt in the chair but hesitated to answer right away. “This thing still active?” She motioned at the ward on the floor. Cathy nodded, so Joey knew she could speak freely. “Great. I’m Joey Grant and this is Chris Martin. We’re the Alphas of Seattle. I’m sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves sooner. It might’ve made this situation less… whatever it is.”

  The blonde nodded absently, her eyes taking on that unfocused look that witches got when inspecting auras. She wasn’t the only one.

  Jaw clenched, Ethan glanced between Cathy, Joey, and Chris. His eyes were stormy, but his posture remained nonconfrontational. “We appreciate your concern, but as I said… this is a coven matter.”

  The witches all exchanged glances, but no one spoke up to contradict their leader.

  “I get it.” Joey stretched her slim legs out and crossed her ankles, projecting the impression that she had no intention of going anywhere. “Believe me. Wolves are the same way. Close ranks, circle the wagons, and all that. But a woman—our friend—is dead. Dead.”

  Several of the witches flinched at that, and though Joey regretted rubbing salt in their wounds, she’d do whatever it took to get through to them. Chris put a hand on her shoulder, and she shot him an annoyed look.

  “What she’s trying to say—” Chris began.

  “She can speak for herself,” Joey snapped, eyeing him.

  “—is that the situation has escalated,” Chris continued, “and we’re as concerned about it as you are. We’re here to help.”

  That set the witches to tittering, murmuring amongst themselves until Ethan raised a hand for silence. “We don’t need you to remind us of our loss. We’re well aware. There’s nothing you can do, so again, I’ll ask you to leave.”

  Joey started to open her mouth but swallowed the first response that came to mind and stood, reminding herself that diplomacy would serve them better than snark. “Why won’t you let us help? We’ve been nothing but friendly.”

  “Right. And what’s the price of that friendship, pray tell?” The high priest arched a brow.

  Frowning, Joey exchanged a glance with Chris. “Price? What are you talking about?”

  Ethan snorted, folding his toned arms across his chest. The guy clearly worked out. Joey wasn’t sure if she’d expected long hair and guyliner or what, but he definitely hadn’t met her expectations for a powerful witch. His eyes remained on her, unwavering. “There’s always a price, Miss Grant. This coven won’t be beholden to lycanthropes again.”

  “Beholden?” Joey blinked, shifting to a more conciliatory tone. “If this is about Eric—”

  A golden glow sprang to life around Ethan. “Out! Now.” His voice boomed in the enclosed space of the ward, and Joey flinched. Her wolf stirred, uneasy in the face of the magical power the guy radiated. When he spoke again, it was at a more conversational volume, but his tone was clipped. “Witches and wolves have enjoyed friendly relations in Seattle these last months. It would be a pity for that to change now.”

  Joey raised her hands in a placating gesture and withdrew from the circle with Chris. A glance at Cathy found her staring at the coven leader with a disapproving frown on her face, but the elder witch kept her own counsel. The other witches’ expressions ran the gamut from haughty to embarrassed.

  Justin approached with two to-go cups of coffee, having just missed the entire exchange. “Finished already?”

  Joey snatched the cup from his hand with a growl and lifted it for a sip before nodding tightly. “Yeah, apparently.”

  “We should go,” Chris said, touching her arm.

  “Yeah. You’ll stay with Cathy?” Joey asked Justin.

  “Sure, no problem. Her arcane library is… well, let’s just say I’ll happily Cathy-sit as long as you need me to.”

  Joey studied the bookish alpha with concern. “Okay, but don’t bury your nose too deeply in books that you aren’t on your guard. You’re supposed to be a bodyguard as well as a study buddy.”

  Justin nodded and withdrew to his tiny table by the door without another word.

  Joey glanced at the witches—who’d resumed their conversation behind the anti-eavesdropping ward—one last time and sighed before turning to go, coffee in hand. It was a long trip to make in the middle of the night for nothing, but she was still glad they’d made it. Frustrated over the outcome, but glad. The coven’s mule-headed leader might not be willing to accept their help, but now the whole coven knew that they’d offered. That was something. It had to be.

  Chris let Joey drive on the way back, content to sit in the passenger’s seat and stare out the window in contemplative silence. For a little while, anyway.

  “We can’t do nothing,” he said, breaking the silence eventually.

  “Even if it may mean pissing off the most powerful witch in Seattle?” Joey glanced at him and lifted a brow.

  “I doubt he’s the most powerful. You know Cathy can throw down. And given what she told us about Dawn’s potential…”

  “You know what I mean. Status-wise, if not power-wise.”

  “If he keeps behaving like that, he might not have that claim either.” Chris ran a hand down his face and reached for his coffee in the console. He took a sip, grimaced at the unexpected bitterness, and swapped Joey’s cup for his own.

  “Well, he didn’t become High Priest with his charm and good looks.” She paused. “Okay, maybe his good looks.”

  “Hey! I’m sitting right here.”

  Joey snickered and patted his leg. “Don’t worry, babe. He’s got nothing on you. Besides, all the looks in the world won’t make up for an ugly personality.”

  Chris grumbled over a sip of coffee but knew she wasn’t seriously attracted to the guy. “Anyway, yes. Even if it means pissing off the most powerful witch in Seattle, we can’t do nothing.”

  “Yeah, I agree. I just wanted you to acknowledge what we’d be getting into.”

  Silence settled between them. Chris went back to staring out the window, considering their next move. Now that homicide was involved—or, at least he assumed it was—they could reach out to Detective Harding. The thought that maybe if they’d done so sooner Naomi might still be alive surfaced, but he shoved it back down before it could do much damage. Another rose in its place, and Chris groaned.

  “What?” Joey asked.

  Chris toyed with his to-go cup, swirling its contents to mix up what had settled to the bottom. “I hate to mention it, but… this is probably going to mean another delay for the wedding.”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” She sounded so calm, so accepting. It was completely at odds with the woman who’d picked a fight over wedding delays less than forty-eight hours ago.

  “You’re handling that thought well.”
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  She was quiet a moment, then shrugged. “Naomi is dead, and every witch we know is in danger. I do understand priorities, you know.”

  There it was, the slight hint of testiness in her voice he’d expected from the start. Chris set his coffee aside and took her hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “I know, babe.”

  “I put in a bid on that dance studio.”

  Chris blinked, not sure he’d heard her right. “Sorry, what was that?”

  She withdrew her hand and returned it to the wheel, teeth worrying her lower lip between them. “I put in a bid on that dance studio. The one we looked at on Friday.”

  Anger welled within him. Even his wolf was affronted but didn’t understand entirely why. He straightened in his seat, fingers curling around the door handle. He didn’t know what to say, how to respond. He thought he’d been perfectly clear about not wanting to commit to that right now, and that was even before they’d found out Naomi was missing.

  “Before we looked at it?” he asked, finally, because that was the only logical explanation—that she’d been so sure he would love it she’d committed before showing it to him.

  “After. The same day. It hasn’t been accepted yet, but… it’s in.” She kept both hands on the wheel and her eyes on the road.

  His anger swelled until he was nearly vibrating in his seat. “Pull over.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Pull over!” He shifted his hand from the door handle to the latch, and while he wasn’t sure he wanted out of the car badly enough to jump out of it while it was still moving, the threat made her decelerate swiftly and pull off onto the shoulder of the highway.

  Chris flung the door open and climbed out, gulping deep breaths of the clear night air in an effort to calm down.

  She leaned across the center console, peering out at him. “Chris—“

  He shut the door on her and paced away from the car, off the shoulder and into the trees beyond.