A Council of Betrayal (25 page)

“Come on, bitch,” I taunted, as it tried to
expand its wings in the tight space to help its balance.

Wicked talons slashed at me, slicing through
my shirt and cleaving through the soft flesh of my stomach. I took
the blow. The head followed, the beak looking for a tasty piece of
flesh. I stabbed downward into its feathered head with both my
hands wrapped around the hilt. The griffin gave a surprised
squawk.

I twisted the blade, my shoulder spilling
warm blood over my bicep. The head shuttered before the beast’s
massive girth fell into a lifeless lump.

I groaned, pushing the beak off of me with a
sigh.

“How the hell am I going to clean this up?” I
groaned, pressing a hand against my stomach.

I kicked the griffin for good measure.

The serrated beak snapped at my foot before
the eyes turned to focus on me.

“Fucker,” I groaned. “Any chance you want to
hand my blade over?”

It lifted its head, releasing a roar of
outrage.

“Wonderful.” I ducked, rolling under the
beast. I expected to look into feathers and fur, not the slick gray
skin of its stomach.

“Djinn?” I questioned, to no one but
myself

The beaked asshole looked down between its
legs and snapped at me, scratching the dagger against the carpeted
floor. Frustrated, it shook its head—well, now that I was under it,
let’s call it what it was: a boy.

My dagger flung against the wall and I knew
my little reprieve was over. Darting under his side, I lunged for
the dagger, my hand closing around the hilt as birdie’s beak dug
into my calf.

I screamed. The asshole pulled back and I
twisted, pain from my calf burning up my leg. I pulled my legs
under me and threw myself to the left as he crashed down again.

The pain in my calf was far beyond my other
wounds, and I knew my time was limited. I’d never seen a griffin
with the stomach of a djinn but shit, if the djinn could clone
themselves, why not other creatures?

I charged as the griffin’s wings fought to
extend in the cramped space. He reared back, deadly claws extended,
slicing down at my shoulders as I plunged the dagger deeply into
the gray area and pulled up at an angle, hoping to sever the
heart.

Gritting my teeth as the claws clenched
around my shoulders, I hit resistance and kept pushing. I let out a
triumphant cry as my blade hit pay dirt and the griffin
deconstructed into gray goop all around me.

“Motherfucker,” I hissed, spitting a glob out
of my mouth.

I turned around and went back up the
stairs.

…

I loaded all our bags into the SUV and drove
to the diner, carefully surveying the exterior as I walked in to
get Jerry and Mark.

They were sitting by a large window and saw
me approaching. Mark signaled for the check.

I slid next to Jerry, greedily devouring the
needed calories.

“Olivia, what happened?” Mark asked, inhaling
deeply.

“I got attacked,” I answered around a
mouthful of food. “The fucking djinn created a damn griffin.”

Mark’s gaze flicked to Jerry, whose slight
raise of a hand instructed him to wait.

I finished eating and leaned back, careful of
my new injuries. A night’s sleep would heal them, but I didn’t have
the time.

Mark was still looking at me, worried and
irritated at being put off.

“Let’s go, I’ll fill you in on the
drive.”

Mark nodded, sliding out of the booth with
stiff movements.

Jerry slid behind the wheel and Mark sat next
to me in the backseat.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“Let me see your wounds,” he commanded, which
was brave to say the least.

“Hey guys, any particular destination?” Jerry
asked from the front seat.

“The next possible location on the list,” I
instructed.

I pulled off my leather jacket, already
missing the duster destroyed by the djinn, followed by my
shirt.

Mark looked over my wounds, his jaw
tightening.

“Why didn’t you call for help?” he asked.

“I was a little too preoccupied to grab my
cell phone.”

He tapped his head. “With the pack
bonds?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that. Besides, I had
it under control,” I shrugged.

“Your calf disagrees.”

I flexed the muscle in question, biting back
a hiss. “Yeah, well—” I had no smartass answer for that.

Mark finished with my shoulders and stomach.
I pulled my shirt back on as he pulled up my yoga pant leg from my
calf, removing my makeshift bandage.

“You are lucky you heal quickly, or this
would need a skin graft,” he chided me.

Mark sighed as he finished bandaging my calf.
“Olivia, you have to understand that you need to stay alive and in
good health for the sake of the shifters and Logan. He would be
devastated without you, and I’m not sure Ginny would be enough to
keep him among the living. “

“Tomorrow is guaranteed to no one, Mark. I
understand your concern; however, I will not stop being who I am in
the hope that my life expectancy will be longer.”

“That was deep,” Jerry commented, trying to
break the awkward tension between us.

“Where are we headed today?” I asked, rubbing
at my temple, where I could feel Logan’s awareness of the
situation.

He wasn’t happy. While I wasn’t blocking him,
I certainly wasn’t advertising my distress. Apparently, Mark didn’t
have the same reservations.

“A farm. We called ahead yesterday and they
granted us permission to look for foreign plants threatening the
native species,” Jerry answered.

“That’s an impressive cover,” I answered.

“I saw it on a show,” Jerry laughed.

Mark moved into the front seat and I
gratefully stretched out. Logan wasn’t leaving things be, though. I
focused on our link, finding it present but not as strong. I sent
him reassurance, hoping it would be enough, or that maybe taking
care of a newborn would distract him. Either way, the pressure
lessened and I slept.

…

The lack of motion had me sitting up and
taking in the surroundings. I exited the SUV before Mark could make
any additional comments. Why I was suddenly not capable of taking
care of myself was beyond me.

Jerry had parked on a hill, away from the
main house and barn. We were looking down onto both of them. I
checked my weapons, running the pads of my fingers over my blades
reassuringly.

Jerry took the lead, pulling out a tablet.
“Looks to be past these trees.”

I followed him, silently brooding, Mark
bringing up the rear. The undergrowth was thick and it wrapped
around us, impeding our progress. Honestly, it was great to have
something to work out my irritation on.

We must have hiked a mile, struggling for
every step. I was regretting my decision to wear fleece lined
leggings when Jerry’s tablet beeped at him.

“Fucking finally,” he grunted, also not
dressed for this. He pushed through the last of the low hanging
branches and into a pot field.

“What the fuck?” he asked over the sound of
guns being fired.

“Get down!” I yelled, tackling him from
behind.

Mark landed on top of the pile and we rolled
a few feet away.

“Guns?” I yelled over the rapid succession of
poorly aimed shots.

As suddenly as it began, the shooting
stopped.

“Anyone hurt?” I asked, checking Jerry for
holes as Mark slid off the dog pile.

I turned to Mark, seeing red blossoming in
the center of his shirt. His eyes rounded, his breathing turning
into pained pants. He sat down hard on his ass, his pupils heavily
dilated.

“Fuck,” I hissed, pulling the small throwing
dagger from my boot.

“What’s wrong?” Jerry questioned, coming to
stand beside me as I pushed Mark onto his back. I grabbed Jerry,
pulling him lower. Tossing a leg below the wound to straddle Mark,
I pushed the dagger into him, my jaw clenching. The bullet was in
his heart, lucky fucking shot.

“Olivia, get your silver knife out of him!”
Jerry yelled at me, trying to pull me away from Mark.

“The bullet, Jerry. It’s silver, too,” I
informed him calmly. I dropped the dagger. My slippery fingers
brushed the tip of the metal burning inside of Mark. He writhed
under me, foaming at the mouth. I twisted further, my nail digging
into the silver, ripping it out of his body. I flung it away.

Mark clutched his chest, sucking in air
greedily. I moved off of him, careful to scan our surroundings and
keep Jerry low. I pulled another throwing knife. It was a terrible
cliché, bringing a knife to a gun fight.

Who uses guns? Okay, well aside from me.

Humans, oh, fucking humans use guns.

I tilted my head, listening. How would humans
know to use silver bullets?

I didn’t get to travel that train of thought
long before a fresh burst of gunfire shot through the woods, closer
than before.

“Shit.” I was out of my league here.

Mark took huge, gulping breaths of air, his
chest knitting back together.

“We need help,” he wheezed.

“Agreed, but we aren’t going to last long
enough to wait for it,” I countered.

“We need to get you and Jerry hidden.” Mark
shook his head and tried to stand. He faltered and Jerry eased him
back down.

“Dang, Jerry, you been hitting the gym?” I
questioned.

He gave me a disbelieving look. “Take him,
and let me deal with the assholes who shot my man.”

I debated for a moment. “Bitch, get over
here!” he demanded.

“Jerry, you are the only one who is allowed
to call me that and live.”

“Noted.” Gone was my carefree driver. In his
place stood a pissed off mage, rolling up his sleeves.

Jerry muttered a few words and an opaque
shield popped into place. He marched forward, bullets harmlessly
brushing against his powerful magic.

“I sure hope he knows to kill them all,” I
muttered.

Mark shifted limply in my arms, his breathing
evening out as he started to drift off.

I shook him, easing him into a sitting
position. “Hey now, buddie, stay with me.”

An explosion rang through the field,
deafening me and shaking the ground. I moved in front of Mark,
shielding his already tender chest. A body went flying with a
high-pitched squeal in the distance.

“That’s my boy,” Mark muttered, his eyes
rolling back into his head.

More screaming and the fields caught fire,
the flames licking out to each and every plant. I stood, balancing
Mark upright as I searched the field for Jerry.

He passed through the flames unharmed like a
badass in his own right. He helped support Mark’s weight as we
booked it back to the SUV.

“So, see any of the plant we’re hunting?” I
asked.

“No, although if it was there, I have full
confidence it will be destroyed.” Jerry smiled, a self-satisfied
grin. “Teach those motherfuckers to mess with my man.”

“You sure showed them,” Mark muttered.

“Hopefully, the whole county isn’t stoned,” I
laughed.

Jerry stopped a moment, looking over at me.
“Right, can’t say I thought of that.”

…

I wiped the dried blood from Mark’s chest,
impressed at his healing. A thick pink line remained from where my
silver had scored him. He was asleep before I finished and I eased
him down in the backseat. I closed the door gently before slipping
into the front seat with Jerry.

“You okay to drive?” I asked Jerry.

He nodded. “Where to next on the adventures
of Olie?”

I rubbed my forehead, seeing signs for Fort
Dodge. “Head there,” I said, pointing at the sign. “We need a large
city to get lost in until we figure out who the fucking mole
is.”

“Mole?” Jerry repeated.

“How else would a group of pot farmers know
about and be able to afford silver bullets?” I asked.

Jerry was silent, his hands clenching around
the steering wheel. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Who else knew where we were going to be?” I
asked.

Jerry sighed, “Logan, Ali, Grant, Sage, and
Tommy.”

I chewed on my fingernail. “Sage, you
say?”

Jerry cast a searching look at me. “Yes.”

“I really hope Mark knows where she
lives.”

…

“This is a little fancy,” I told Jerry,
looking at the stone waterfall in front of the hotel he had
picked.

“It’s the last place anyone will think to
look for us,” he informed me. “Besides, after my power play, I’d
like a soft, cushy bed with room service.”

“Alright,” I consented, too tired to fight.
“How you feeling, Mark?” I asked.

He pulled on a clean shirt, running a hand
though his dark curly hair. “I could use a shower.”

I nodded as our muddy boots squeaked against
the polished stone floor of the hotel.

Jerry and Mark hung back while I smiled at
the girl behind the front desk.

“Welcome, do you have a reservation?” the
perky blond asked.

“No, I need two rooms for tonight.”

“Names?” she asked.

I opened my mouth, ready to give her my real
name, when an idea came to me. “Suzie Parker.”

She smiled, clicking away quickly on her
computer. I turned to Mark’s questioning stare.

“Tell no one where we are,” I said softly,
not needing to raise my voice for his shifter hearing.

The clerk was easy to slide the extra funds
to, along with a touch of succubus magic to make her forget about
my ID. She slid our room keys over, her impossibly wide smile
straining her cheeks at her additional income.

“Thanks,” I muttered, annoyed being in her
presence.

Mark waited until after the elevator ride to
ask, “Why can’t we tell anyone where we are?”

“Because someone is rooting for us to die,
and my money is on Sage.” I unlocked my room, moving to open the
suite door.

Mark met me there with a disapproving look.
“I know you don’t like Sage for her past with Logan, but she would
never try and kill you.”