I forced myself to pay attention and jump down the mountain after Dahlia. Maybe we were home free, but it didn’t feel like it. Not one bit.
In fact, it felt like things were tightening around me, like the snake catcher as it closed over my leg, an image I couldn’t banish no matter how hard I tried.
CHAPTER 11
We took the Viking’s truck and drove as though demons chased us all the way back into town, though there was no one behind us. I drove and Dahlia sat with the silver flask clamped between her hands, her hands on the lid. My two wooden spoons lay somewhere on the side of the mountain, evidence that I was more of a killer than I’d ever thought possible.
Dahlia kept glancing at me. She’d open her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out. Finally, when we closed in on house number thirteen, she managed to spit out a question.
“What happened back there? Why did they stop chasing us? They don’t give up easily.”
I pulled over, thought better of it, and pulled back onto the road. “I don’t think we should park this in front of where we’re staying.”
“They know where you live, Alena,” she pointed out. “And what the hell happened? Talk to me. There is no way they would have just given up.”
I slowed the truck and backed up, the engine rumbling as I hit the throttle. We reversed so fast I ended up partly on the sidewalk, the truck half in and half out of the road. I slammed it into park and slid out of the driver’s side. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Dahlia met me at the front of the truck. “Why? Did you shift? No, you couldn’t have; you still have your clothes. What the hell happened? You’re whiter than—”
“A bowl of flour?” I offered with a weak smile.
She rolled her eyes. “How bad could it be? I mean, it’s not like you killed any of them.”
I stepped back and tucked my hands into my pockets. “Yeah, it could be that bad.” I took a step and then another, moving quickly toward the house. “Come on. It’s getting close to morning.”
Dahlia fell into step behind me. I knew she wouldn’t be upset that I’d killed them. Surprised, yes, but not upset. She didn’t understand what it meant to me to break that rule.
Being raised to believe that killing was a mortal sin, that my soul, whatever was left of it, would be cast into utter darkness when I died . . . that prospect was not exactly comforting. Besides that, killing people was just . . . wrong. Even if I hadn’t been raised as a Firstamentalist, I would have believed it was wrong. Killing people was wrong.
As if reading my mind, Dahlia touched my arm. “They would have killed you, and then me. I don’t know much about church stuff, but I’m sure there is something about defending your own. Isn’t there? Like looking after your family?”
I hunched my shoulders as I stepped into the house. I listened for heartbeats and picked up two upstairs. Sandy’s by the flutter of the first, and . . . Beth’s. A sigh of relief flowed out of me. She had to have seen what Theseus was up to. That was a weight off me. I didn’t realize just how worried I’d been about them until I heard their hearts and knew they were home and safe.
“Alena?”
I turned to Dahlia and motioned for her to follow me. “Let’s see if we can tell what this stuff is.”
“No, you answer my question. Isn’t there something about defending your family?”
Why was she pushing this so hard?
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, thinking about all the studying I’d done, all the reading and meditating about the teachings of the Firsts. “There is one section about it, yes. That if there is no other route, you should defend your family. But not yourself; if you are attacked, it says you should turn the other cheek.” I opened my eyes. “I was defending myself, Dahlia. They were attacking me, not you.”
Her green eyes softened. “Alena, you are like a sister to me. And so I’m only going to say this once.” She put her hands on my shoulders and shook me gently. “Pull your head out of your ass.”
My eyes bugged out, and she went on as if I’d agreed with her. “Those vamps were after me too. They would have killed me. They are trying to kill Remo, and even if you aren’t in love with him, I know you care about him. This is war, not just between you and whatever heroes come, but between you and the vamps now too. And maybe in some ways they are going to be even more dangerous. Because there isn’t just one. They are an army of supernaturals with no morals. No desire to make nice. That’s why they are with Santos.”
I blinked several times. “I’m never going to be okay with . . . killing.”
“I would worry if you were.” She touched a hand to my cheek and smiled. “You are too compassionate by far, but you are also one badass monster when you want to be. You are a hot mess of contradictions, my friend. Like a bacon-and-chocolate dessert.” She winked to soften her words.
I couldn’t help the smile that slowly curved my lips or the laugh that followed. “Yeah, that I would agree with.”
I was a hot mess, all right. We headed to the kitchen, and she held the flask out over the sink and unscrewed the cap. The scent of licorice flowed into the room, so strong it burned the inside of my nose. I backed up until I was at the far side of the room. “It smells like fennel,” I said.
“Isn’t that an herb or something?”
“Yeah, I use it sometimes in my baking.” I coughed into my arm. “Cap it up, I can hardly breathe.”
She screwed the lid on and leaned as if to open the window, then stopped and pulled back. “Right, forgot you already permanently opened it.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t understand how fennel could burn me so badly.”
She shrugged. “Maybe it’s just the base for something else? Like a carrier?”
I tugged at my bottom lip with my teeth, thinking. “I’d ask Ernie, but . . . I don’t want to take him from Tad right now.”
“What about that skinny flier? Hermes?” she asked.
My eyes widened. “Good idea. HERMES!” I hollered his name and she flinched. The two sets of heartbeats upstairs fluttered and beat faster as Beth and Sandy woke up.
That was good; I wanted to talk to them anyway, see how things had gone with Theseus. To make things right with them both, to tell them that I was just trying to protect them.
They thumped down the stairs in tandem and entered the kitchen side by side.
Sandy’s dark hair was all mussed up and she cracked a big yawn. “What time is it?”
Beth frowned up at the clock, irritation clear on her face. “Too damn early. What is all the yelling about?” That was not her usual tone or style. What if the arrow and Theseus’s claim on her were still there?
“I need Hermes’s help,” I said. “I’ve got something here, and I’m not sure what it is exactly.”
Beth raised one blond eyebrow. “Well, that’s not a shock. There doesn’t seem to be much you do know about.”
Sandy sucked in a sharp breath, and Dahlia let out a growl. I shook my head and decided to go the safe route. “Beth, I know you were upset with me, but I was trying to protect you—”