A Witch's Fury (24 page)

He shook his head. “Let’s get a move on.”

…

Mark was waiting for us with a black duffel
bag and bags under his eyes to match. As we came to a stop, he
threw his bag in before grunting and sliding in himself.

“Lay down,” Logan ordered him. “Sleep.”

I turned around, watching Mark’s jaw twitch
with irritation, his wolf itching for a fight.

“It’s a four hour drive,” I said, “and we
don’t plan on stopping for more than gas. I’ll wake you when we get
there.” Reaching an arm back, I laid my hand on Mark’s fist resting
on his knee, seeping tranquility into him. His eyes rolled back
into his head as exhaustion took over and he slumped over his
bag.

“Did you just make him sleep?” Logan
asked.

“No, I gave him a little peace and the lack
of sleep finally caught up to him.”

Logan grunted, “You going to sleep also?”

“Doubtful.”

…

After a three hour and forty-five minute trip
with a single pit stop for snacks and gas, we pulled into The
Majestic. I tried to keep my gaze away from the coffee shop,
failing repeatedly. Hoisting my bags, one of clothing and another
of weapons, I followed the boys inside.

“Fancy luggage, Logan,” I commented on his
rolling suitcase.

“Jealous?” he asked.

Even Mark, who walked next to me looking a
little more rested, cracked a small smile. Having something to kill
was helping us all.

The hotel was lavish. The floors were
pristine, the pearl tiles inscribed with a carefully scripted black
onyx M. Black leather chairs enclosed a small sitting area with
matching black tables and white lamps.

Logan looked at home striding to the lobby
desk, while Mark and I shifted with unease, knowing we must be
standing out like sore thumbs. Logan took the keys from the lady
behind the desk and Mark snickered, “Looks like we are sharing a
room.”

“Damn shifter hearing,” I sighed. “As if I
wasn’t jealous enough of the claws and fangs.”

“You’re jealous of fangs?” Mark asked as we
fell in line with Logan, making the short trip to the
elevators.

“Totally, I’d love to smile at someone and
have gleaming fangs to terrify them with.”

“You aren’t very intimidating,” Logan
commented.

“I know,” I huffed. “I have to kill to get
any respect.”

“Tragic,” Mark agreed sarcastically.

“So, you and Mark sharing a bed?” I asked
Logan.

Not breaking stride as we moved out of the
elevator he replied, “I thought we would share a bed and give Mark
some space.”

I huffed, couldn’t fight with that logic.

“How much longer?” Mark asked, following
Logan through the now open room door.

I looked at my watch, “A few more hours,
enough time to eat and get some rest before we need to scout out
the location. Although I won’t be able to go in.”

“Why?” Mark asked, setting his duffel bag on
a bed. I thumped my own two down next to Logan’s on the bed closest
to the window.

“I don’t want to screw with The Oracle’s
prediction. We need to get Jerry and I don’t have time to make
another trip to her.”

Mark nodded soberly.

“I call dibs on the shower,” I announced,
grabbing my toiletry bag and staking my claim.

…

When my fingers were pruned and I had made a
valiant attempt at using all the hot water in the hotel, I finally
emerged, wrapped in a towel.

“I’m out,” I announced, rummaging though my
bag and seeing Mark deeply engrossed in the file Becky had given
us.

“Any thoughts on that?” I asked as Logan made
his way into the shower.

I changed quickly, throwing on underwear
under the towel along with soft cloth shorts, and then displacing
the towel by sliding on a tank top. Forget bras, I was done wearing
one for a few hours.

“Like how the zombies managed to not only
appear in Ohio but also in St. Ann,” I continued, “with two
different groups of people?”

“They are probably working together. Destiny
gave him a few zombies so they could split up and take care of
business, her opening a portal and him killing Logan.”

“That’s so obvious it hurts that I missed
it.”

He sent me an understanding smile. “Fresh
eyes.”

I groaned, pulling back the comforter and
crashing into the soft sheets. “Wake me up in four hours.”

A short time later when I wasn’t sleeping but
obsessively replaying the day’s events and Mark’s observation, I
heard the boys talking.

“Have you discovered anything else?” Logan
asked.

“No,” Mark sighed. “I wish it could tell us
more.”

“We will get him back,” Logan stressed.

“I know,” his voice made me think there was
much left unsaid. I kept my breathing level, not wanting to disturb
their conversation.

“Is it true about Lorraine?”

Logan grunted, his weight shifting the bed
beneath me. “Which part?”

“Did she really cheat on you with another
shifter, and is Olie really protecting her and possibly your unborn
child?”

“Unfortunately, yes to all of it.”

Mark gave a low whistle. “What are you going
to do?”

I heard Logan’s head thump against the
headboard. “Find out if the child is mine first, and honestly I
haven’t thought past that.”

“But you are done with her?” Mark asked
eagerly.

I could hear the rueful smile in Logan’s
voice. “Yes, I think I have kept her around too long. She wasn’t
always the power hungry, inconsiderate nuisance she is today. At
one point I loved her. I thought—” His weight shifted. “I hoped she
would return to the person I fell in love with. Besides, marrying a
human would help with our PR.”

“Maybe, but not that human.”

Logan gave a long sigh. “I know.” His tight
response ended the conversation. Logan might be able to take
criticism, but he was still an Alpha among alphas.

“Thank you, thank you for helping me get
Jerry back,” Mark whispered, his voice tense from repressed
emotions I could feel from ten feet away. He cleared his throat
before continuing, “You and Olivia have been spending a lot of time
together.”

Logan grunted a response.

“She is a worthy leader and mate,” Mark
offered tentatively.

“Alright matchmaker, that’s enough,” I
declared. I scooted toward Logan on the queen bed, “Get over here,
and shut up.”

“Really?” Mark asked hopefully.

“Yes, I forgot how much shifters like to
cuddle.”

“What, Bear not offer you any cuddling time?”
Logan jabbed. The insult hurt.

“No Logan, I wasn’t after Bear for
snuggles.”

“Then what?” the asshole asked.

“To forget. Now are you going to tell Mark
it’s okay if he comes over here, or do I have to get up and go to
his bed?”

Logan patted the warm spot my body had left
and Mark eagerly curled his body around my own. It would have been
romantic when he buried his face in my hair, except he was in love
with Jerry and I was an emotional train wreck.

Logan lowered his hulking form down, leaning
closer so the minimal gap I had left between our bodies vanished.
His warm skin heating my own, I thought, here’s hoping I don’t have
nightmares.

…

It was a subtle jerk that woke me up. Logan
looked down at me, his brow furrowed.

“Did I snore?” I asked, feeling Mark’s heavy
arm around my waist.

“No, it’s been four hours.”

I grunted, pushing at him. “Move, so I can
get up without disturbing him. He needs his sleep.”

“You aren’t waking him?”

“Not yet, but I have to pee,” I hissed,
slowly wiggling my body out from under Mark and shoving Logan at
the same time.

He gave a low chuckle as he watched me hustle
to the bathroom. I snatched clothing for the day before shutting
the door behind me.

Dressed with teeth freshly brushed, I
rummaged through my bag until I found my binoculars.

“Going old school on this one?”

I shrugged. “I’m curious as to what’s
happening. I’d like not to be caught unaware.”

Logan nodded before taking care of his own
morning routine. I sat in front of the window, watching the people
coming and going from the coffee shop and art gallery. While I
didn’t think the latter had any connection to what was going on, it
didn’t hurt to look.

A pain of longing struck me as I sat there
thinking about my last stakeout with Jerry at the strip club. While
he may not have been up front about who and what he was, I liked
him. He had my back and I wasn’t going to let him down now.
Everyone had a past, and it didn’t serve any purpose judging him
for it.

Logan pulled a burgundy armchair close to my
perch on the dark gold and white striped couch.

“Anything?” he asked, lacing his fingers over
his flat stomach.

“Not yet.”

“Hungry?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

He laughed, picking up the phone and ordering
room service.

I heard the shifting of a sheet as Mark got
up, silently dressing and coming to stand behind me.

“Logan ordered breakfast, do you want to go
check out the coffee shop?”

I felt his gaze on me. I lowered the
binoculars, turning to meet his eyes.

“You trust me? I was certain there would be
some speech about not being able to keep my shit together.” His
teeth ground on the last part.

Logan looked at me, waiting for my response,
which was, “I trust you won’t let Jerry down.”

He nodded, jaw still clenched tightly as he
looked out, arms crossed over his chest.

“Why don’t I get breakfast down there?” he
asked, eager to see inside.

I smiled. “Sure, I doubt Logan ordered enough
for all of us, anyways.”

Logan huffed, “Do you need the wax cleaned
out of your ears? You heard my order.”

I chose to ignore him. “You have your phone?”
I asked Mark.

He nodded.

“Good, take pictures, but—actually, Logan why
don’t you accompany Mark and act like a couple taking
pictures!”

Sometimes I’m a freaking genius.

The look Logan gave me said he didn’t share
that appraisal of my skills.

Mark covered his laugh with a cough. “I can
handle it, Olie, but thanks for the offer.”

He grinned suggestively and the surprise
laughter caught me off guard. We were all saved from Logan’s retort
by the arrival of breakfast.

Mark slipped out, still sporting a small
smile, as two carts were brought in.

“Please tell me you ordered French toast and
donuts and pancakes and hash browns,” my watering mouth
demanded.

“Yes to all the above.”

“Glorious food, come to mama.”

I pulled a metal cart towards my perch,
analyzing my sitting arrangement as Logan tipped the man, closing
the black door after him.

“Can you move the couch?” I asked, already
munching on a donut.

With an annoyed huff he pushed it around
until it hit the back of my knees and I sat. “Good?” he
grumbled.

“Hmm, maybe a little closer.”

I got a solid whack that pushed me closer and
my bite of donut down my windpipe.

Hacking, I glared at him though watery eyes.
“Asshole.”

“Prissy.”

“Hey, I think you have me confused with your
ex-fiancée,” I retorted, propping my feet up on the windowsill,
powdered sugar coating my hands. “I believe you prefer the term
demon whore to describe me.”

He exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry I’ve called you
that.”

“Why? It’s how you feel,” I replied, smearing
chocolate donut frosting on my binoculars as I watched Mark cross
the street to the coffee shop.

“Maybe once,” he answered honestly, “but not
anymore.”

“Careful Logan,” I warned softly, hiding
behind the binoculars like the chicken I was. “People might start
thinking we are friends.”

Silence.

…

Logan and I devoured both carts of food in
the five hours Mark was gone. Logan had texted him to make sure he
was okay, but Mark just kept sending pictures of various parts of
the shop, everything from the bathroom to the back alley.

I cleaned up my hands, face, and binoculars
before snatching Logan’s phone from him.

“What the hell, Olie?”

“Shh,” I muttered, zooming in and out on the
alley, squinting my eyes as I tried to bring up the memory of Jerry
bound.

Chewing on my bottom lip, I confessed, “It’s
possible I saw Jerry on the top step and not in the storage
room.”

Logan moved to sit beside me on the couch. I
tilted the picture for him to see while I manipulated it.

“I can see why. The concrete floor and
backing are the same as the storage room.”

“And The Oracle smartly only showed a
snapshot of Jerry, very little background.”

I chewed on my fingernail as Logan’s phone
pinged. He reached over me to grab it, getting to the message
faster than I could.

“Did it look something like this?” he asked
with a hard edge.

My mouth hung open as the picture The Oracle
had shown me consumed Logan’s phone screen. Jerry was looking away
from the camera, blood on his white shirt and an angry slant to his
jaw.

“Shit,” I hissed, reading the message: We
will trade your magician for your succubus.

“No,” Logan bellowed, taking his phone away.
I reached for it, slumping into the couch as he stood up, pacing.
“You cannot give yourself over to those witches!”

I decided to sit this argument out, for now,
letting him rage. Picking up my phone, I debated texting Mark.
Deciding he had a say in this, I did.

I watched Mark trying not to run back to the
hotel. He arrived far faster than he left, the double black doors
cracking under his weight as he outpaced the electric lock.

He was panting, but I imagined it to be more
from nerves than exhaustion. “We are trading me for Jerry, once
Logan confirms date and time.”