Clean Sweep (Innkeeper Chronicles, #1)

Beast whined softly. I didn't want me to go either, but I had no choice about it.

We went out the door. Sean carried a blade in each hand. Arland carried his mace. I carried my broom. The sun had set, but its wake still diluted the sky's purple to pale yellow in the west. The moon rose, bright, huge, like a silver coin in the sky. The scent of grass and the weak aroma of burning wood from someone's fire pit swirled around me. Noises came in clear: the faint sound of our feet, the distant barking of a dog, a siren somewhere far away... The world seemed so sharp somehow. I was wearing jeans during a Texas summer evening, and still I felt cold.

I really didn't want to die.

"Fear is good," Sean told me.

"Too much fear isn't good," Arland said. "Don't worry, I'll be there."

Sean put his hand on my arm and stopped, letting Arland go forward a few steps. He leaned to me and said quietly, "Don't count on him or on me. If things don't go well, you turn around, run back to the house, and let the inn guns blow that bastard to pieces if he follows. I left my parents' number on your kitchen table. Call them if something happens. They'll help."

Two thoughts occurred at the same time. One said "If I could get the dahaka on the grounds, I wouldn't need the guns" and the second said "He's worried enough to do this for me." That last one cut right through the fear of impending death and freaked me right the heck out.

There was no way on Earth I could be falling for Sean Evans. The list of his shortcomings was a mile long: arrogant, unstable, bossy, werewolf... who'd saved me from dying in a Costco parking lot and who kissed like... I shut my brain off and made my lips move. "Thank you."

Sean nodded.

We came to the edge of the field. The Anansi pearls had grown and broken through the soil, rising a few inches above the dirt like the tops of giant mushrooms about to break free. Each of them should be the size of a small tire now, but with most of their bulk buried it was hard to tell. I hoped they were done. Sometimes there were some minor variations due to temperature. The only way to know for sure would be to break one, but once broken, they wouldn't last long in Earth's atmosphere.

Sean stared at the pearls.

Arland raised his eyebrows.

"You sure about this?" Sean asked me.

"Yes. My father's used them before."

Sean and Arland walked out into the field. Although it was technically my property, the inn wasn't yet strong enough to claim it. The grounds ended at the field's edge. I sighed and followed the two men. The protective mantle of magic slid off me. I felt naked.

Arland took out his crest. His fingers danced over the surface. "It's done. It's broadcasting the signal of the person I think betrayed us. The dahaka will show up soon."

"Let's hope you're right," I said.

A minute passed. Another. Time slowed to a crawl. Funny how long a minute can last. If you're reading a good book, it flies by. If you're holding your breath, it moves slower than a snail.

"What if he doesn't show?" I asked.

"He'll show," Sean said. "He wants to get paid."

"And once he sees us, it will be a challenge," Arland said.

We stood shoulder to shoulder. "Shouldn't we have set some traps?" I asked.

"He's too mobile," Arland said. "He'd avoid whatever we set up and we'd stumble into our defenses in the fight. Besides, we are the trap."

He and Sean had planted an energy disruptor a few hours ago. According to Arland, it would negate whatever energy weapons the dahaka carried, and apparently, dahakas didn't care for projectile technology.

Sean raised his face to the moon and inhaled. His ears twitched. "Incoming. About two miles out." He glanced at me. "Dina, remember, stick to the plan, no matter how hard it is. It's a good plan and it will work."

A shiver ran down his spine, like fire down a detonator cord. His skin split. Mist swirled around him. For a long moment his face remained human and then it too burst, bones growing, flesh stretching. His back expanded, layered with thick, hard muscle. He raised his new massive arms, which were covered with gray fur, and held them out. The armor burst out of his pores, sheathing the body in a tight dark sleeve. Reinforced plates formed over his abdomen. Flexible darkness covered his massive neck. He pulled his clothes off, ripping them off almost as an afterthought.

The armor sheathed him, dark like tar, but unlike glossy tar, it swallowed the moonlight. The black turned, twisted, lightened, and a pattern of gray and blue formed on its surface, matching the trees and the grass so exactly he became practically invisible.

"Try to keep him still," Sean-wolf growled.

"Worry about yourself," Arland said.

Sean nodded, sprinted across the clearing, and jumped up, scrambling up the tree. His armor shifted, adjusting, and I could no longer see him.

A low, murmuring growl, like a dozen voices speaking at once, rolled through the trees. The stalkers were coming.

"Just like we rehearsed," Arland said and walked over to the side.