Samhain (Matilda Kavanagh Book 2) (29 page)

“Jameson, you all right?” I asked. His hands weighed a lot more than I’d expected, and I was so tired that I was struggling to remain standing under them.

“I am, but I wanted to know that you were as well.” Then he pulled me against him and hugged me, wrapping his hard, corded arms around me.

I barely had enough time to take a breath before I was crushed against him. Awkwardly, I got my arms around his waist and hugged him back. It was strange and surprising but still sweet and kind of awesome.

When Jameson let go of me, Kyle held out his hand for mine. His hands were even bigger than Jameson’s, but luckily he didn’t try to rest them on my shoulders. He simply took one of my hands and gave it a gentle squeeze as he looked into my face, letting me know he was glad I was okay. I smiled at him, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyes, and words failed me.

“Prrrow,” Artemis said as he darted into the room from his hiding place in the bedroom. He expertly dodged legs and furniture, giving Jameson and Spencer a wide berth as he bounded toward Kyle. He launched himself off the floor and into Kyle’s waiting arms.

Kyle chuckled and held the fur ball as Artie purred.

“Dude, are you sure you’re not a Werecat or something?” I asked.

“That is a good question,” Jameson said as he stared at the cat in Kyle’s arms, one eyebrow arched high.

“It’s weird, right?” I asked.

“A bit,” Jameson agreed.

I heard the scuffle of feet and looked up to see Ronnie standing in the opening of my kitchen, staring at the still-silent Spencer. His shoulders eased a fraction as he took in the sight of Ronnie, whole and unscathed and barefoot on the tile floor. Even I felt the energy vibrating off of him as he leaned toward Ronnie, seemingly unaware that he was doing it.

I shifted my weight to nudge Jameson with my hip. He glanced at me, and I lifted my chin toward the desperate couple, giving Jameson a pointed look. He stared at me for a moment before catching on.
Men.

“Spencer,” Jameson said and flicked his fingers.

Spencer went to Ronnie without a moment’s hesitation. We all had the common courtesy to look away as the couple walked into the kitchen, trying to find a corner of privacy. Joey got up from the kitchen table and hurried into the living room, a flush of pink coloring her fair cheeks.

“Mattie, do you mind if I have a word with your guests?” Jameson asked.

“I don’t know if you’d call them guests exactly, but yeah, whatever.” I waved him forward.

Jameson moved toward the living room, and the small group of humans visibly flinched. They tried to sink into their respective seats, as if willing the furniture to open up and swallow them whole. Only Nathaniel remained normal and calm. Well, as normal as he could be with that silly, starstruck grin. I wondered, not for the first time, what he was doing with those people.

“I would like to extend an apology on behalf of the werewolves of Los Angeles County,” Jameson said. “We grieve with you and are taking steps to make sure those responsible are being held accountable for the injuries they’ve caused.”

The young humans exchanged looks. A look of confusion was crossing more than one face.

“I don’t understand,” Collin said, and I was happy to hear his voice was stronger than it had been all night. “She said we weren’t attacked by werewolves. She said they were just monsters.”

Jameson glanced at me. I shrugged.

With a sigh, he continued, “It is true that the monsters that attacked last night were not werewolves, but I am very sorry to say they were
manufactured
by a rogue group of werewolves.”

“Manufactured?” I muttered, trying not to smirk.

“What does that mean?” Dani asked.

“I’m afraid, since it is an open police investigation, I can’t answer too many questions. I just want you to know, none of my pack would have ever done this. But I will see justice done.” Jameson took the time to look each of them in the face.

In the silence that followed, I felt his controlled power unfurling and filling the room, touching everyone. I remembered feeling breathless under Jameson’s power, but this was something different. This reminded me of watching Jameson control Malachi’s wolf as I extracted a bullet from his leg. Jameson had sung a song in a language I couldn’t understand, but his power had washed over me like healing waters. Those waters flowed through my apartment once again. The pinched and angry faces eased, and they looked at Jameson with new understanding. Even Dani, who had been so desperate to get Nathaniel away from Jameson, stepped toward the Alpha wolf.

“Thank you,” Collin said, speaking for the group. Others nodded and there were some soft murmurings, but it seemed as though they were actually accepting Jameson’s olive branch.

“If any of you are bothered by the culprits, or feel you are being harassed by any Weres, any at all, please bring it to my attention.” Jameson turned to me and took my hand. “I trust they could contact you and you would contact me in turn?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” I stuttered.

Jameson leaned closer to me and whispered, “I believe they would feel more comfortable coming to you than they would be seeking out one of mine.”

I nodded. I didn’t like the idea of more P.E.A.C.E. members darkening my doorstep, but I felt the winds of change, and they were coming through my apartment at that moment. I didn’t want to be the one who screwed things up.

Ronnie and I got the humans moving pretty quickly after the Weres left. We applied the healing poultices to the injuries and strung pain relief amulets over their heads while Joey ran around collecting money for me. I didn’t need an assistant as often as Ronnie did at the shop, but I saw the appeal. It was nice not having to worry about being crass and asking for money before I helped someone.

I was opening the door to show them out when Nathaniel stepped in front of me. He had a strange, pinched look on his face, as though he was trying to puzzle out some complicated math problem.

“Yeah?” I asked, still holding the doorknob. I’d managed to get the door open a whole two feet before he’d blocked it with his black-and-white Chuck.

“I don’t get it,” he said.

“Get what?”

“Why you’re helping us?”

“You came to me for help.” I tilted my head, suddenly feeling as if he was shoving that math problem under my nose, and I sucked at math.

“No, I know that.” He looked at the rest of the humans in the room. I would have called them his friends, but after spending the last few hours with them, I didn’t really believe he thought of them that way. “But you could’ve turned us away. I mean, I would have. I don’t get why you didn’t. We were protesting your holiday, and the other day, they…” He stopped and swallowed, his eyes flicking behind me.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw Dani behind me, staring daggers at Nathaniel. Clearly he’d been about to tell me that they had been doing something the other day that would’ve probably pissed me off. I wondered if they had been in the crowd when Jane’s group attacked the gypsy encampment and nearly killed me and Ronnie.

I turned back to Nathaniel and stared into his clear blue eyes. He was so young, so impressionable, and yet so much smarter than the older kids. He was standing on a precipice, and what I said would either push him into the chasm of hate that P.E.A.C.E. had been carving, or I could pull him back to a place where he could think for himself.

“I helped you because you needed help,” I said. “I know it was hard for them to come here and ask for help, but they were willing to swallow their pride because they knew there weren’t very many places to go.”

“Yeah, but if it had been me, I’d’ve slammed the door in their faces and told them to go suck a—”

“Right, but I didn’t start this feud, and I have no interest in adding to the flames. Maybe when they go home and wake up in the morning feeling better than they did when they came here, they’ll remember that a witch helped them. Maybe they’ll remember that, just like any group of people, a few bad apples doesn’t mean the whole orchard is rotten.”

Nathaniel looked at me, the math problem unraveling in his mind, and nodded. He held out his slightly damp hand, and I shook it. He led the way out. A couple of the others shook my hand while the rest muttered their thanks but kept their eyes averted.

Dani was helping Collin to the door, but he stopped her when he was in front of me. His color was coming back to his cheeks, and he even managed a small smile. “Thank you so much, Miss Kavanagh.”

“Please,” I said, taking his extended hand. “Call me Mattie.”

“Thank you, Mattie.”

I smiled back at him and released his hand. He nudged Dani, hard, in the ribs, and she muttered her own thanks before pulling him through the door.

Chapter 20

By the time my apartment was empty, leaving me and Artie alone finally, it was almost time for me to go to bed. The sun would be up in just a couple of hours, but I needed to calm down and relax a little before going back to bed – not to mention shower and possibly burn the clothes I was wearing. When my stomach made a loud noise, I realized I hadn’t eaten all night.

I turned on the television for some company while I went into the kitchen to fix something to eat. I set out the bowl of chicken salad for Artie, not even bothering to spoon out a portion for him. He’d been so good and I’d felt so guilty for everything going on lately that I thought he deserved a little indulgence.

For myself, I just grabbed a container of kung pow chicken and a fork. I was in no mood to deal with chopsticks. I tucked a bottle of water under my arm and walked into the living room. I pulled my grandmother’s afghan around me and turned up the volume to catch the late night/early morning news. I nearly choked on a hot pepper when I saw my face on the screen. They were covering the attack at the festival, unsurprisingly, but someone had filmed Jameson and me talking to the police before we walked them across the park to where Tollis was tied up.

“Oh come on,” I moaned when I saw my name under the picture. “So much for privacy, jerkwads.” I stabbed at the container of chicken and peanuts. When I took a swig of water, I wished it was something a little harder. Okay, a lot harder.

When the knock at my door sounded, I wasn’t altogether surprised. I slouched into the cushions of the couch, feeling the muscles in my back knotting up with each new knock.

“Vultures don’t waste any time,” I muttered. “No comment!”

“Mattie?” a familiar voice asked through the door.

I nearly knocked my kung pow to the floor in my hurry to get out from under the blanket. Leaving the paper container on the table, I rushed to the door, smoothing my hair back and trying to straighten my T-shirt. I wished I’d taken the time to put on some makeup, but that opportunity was lost.

I pressed my fingers into the door as I lifted onto my toes to look out the peephole. I saw Fletcher’s face and his straight brown hair, and a stone dropped into the bottom of my stomach. It wasn’t until that moment that I realized I’d thought it was Owen’s voice. After seeing my battered and disheveled face on the news, I had thought the first person to check on me would be the man who claimed to love me. But it wasn’t. And if I was being honest, though I was disappointed, I wasn’t actually surprised. I fell back on my bare feet and stared at my toes, trying to swallow the sour taste of disappointment before I opened the door. My fingertips on the doorknob were turning white with pressure and starting to go cold.

“Mattie?” Fletcher asked.

His gentle concern pulled at me, like his voice was connected to a spot deep inside me by an invisible thread. Squeezing my eyes shut, I shook my head harshly and took a half step back. I touched my cheeks lightly to make sure there weren’t any traitorous tears to give me away before I unlocked the door. With a touch of my fingers, I lifted the freezing spell and opened the door.

“Hey, Fletcher,” I said in what I hoped was a nice, if not neutral, voice.

“You were expecting Owen,” Fletcher said, and he didn’t say it like a question. When I looked at him, my brows drawing together in question, he touched the side of his nose. “The nose knows.”

“Dude,” I snickered, “lame.”

Fletcher smiled proudly. “But it made you smile.”

That thread connecting me to him vibrated like a violin string being plucked. “Yes, it did.” I stepped back and motioned that he should come through.

Fletcher was dressed in his usual Goth glory. He had on those familiar knee-high boots with half a dozen silver buckles that flashed in the light since his black trench cloak flapped open as he walked. Through the gap in his coat, I saw a black T-shirt that was shredded and layered over a neon-green fishnet shirt. He was wearing two or three impressive rings on each hand, and a mini silver dagger hung from his right ear and a black diamond glinted in his left. He finished the look with a thick spiked collar. I didn’t mind most of the jewelry, but that collar put me off. I had to fight the urge to unbuckle it.

When I closed the door and reset the locks, I turned to face Fletcher, putting my back to the door. His face was pinched and hard, as if he were studying me for cracks or something.

“What?” I asked when I couldn’t stand the silence and scrutiny anymore.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, making the thread hum inside me. “I had to take off after I bound Tollis, because I’ve been laying low since I moved out of the lair. I didn’t want the police to question me, or end up on the news like you.”

“Awesome, right?”

“Right. So yeah, I had to take off, but I felt like an ass for it.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t know if the fighting was over, and I didn’t know what happened to you.” As he spoke, he walked toward me, his heavy boots surprisingly quiet on the wood floor. The almost-angry look melted from his face the closer he got to me.

Only a foot of space separated us. I was very aware of the door at my back as he closed in on me. For a moment, I couldn’t catch my breath as the thought of Fletcher pressing me into the door, crushing his lips to mine, went through my mind.