“Chaser!” I exclaimed. “We’re not killing anybody!”

  He said nothing and turned back to the door, watching the darkness.

  “Wren,” I said, leaning towards her, “we want the same thing here. If there’s another way to take down King and the Hollow Men without turning me into a magical blood bomb, then we’re going to figure it out. The only choice you have to make is if you want in or not. We could do with your help. I know vampires and wolves, but witches…? You’re the first one I’ve ever met.”

  “And if I want out?” Her shoulders tensed and I was sure her expression was softening.

  “Then you walk out of here…but you have to leave the Cherry Ripe.”

  “And if we ever see you again, I’ll kill you myself,” Chaser snapped.

  The room filled with thick silence, and I waited as Wren mulled it over. I wondered how witches got their magic. I had questions about my werewolf heritage, but hers was rather exciting.

  Finally, she stirred. “I have nowhere else to go.”

  “So, that’s a yes, then?” I asked.

  Wren nodded. “I’ll help you…for my family.”

  I nodded, knowing we hadn’t won her trust entirely. Not just yet, anyway. It’d take way more than a heart-to-heart and a Cherry Ripe, but I was determined to try. I wasn’t going to do this the Marini way, with blood, violence, and no thought for collateral damage. This war would be won by treading a different path or not at all.

  The first step was to show her a weakness she could either use against us…or help us with.

  “What can you tell us about this?” I asked, setting the talisman on the table. “Can the spell on it be broken?”

  Chaser flew across the room, moving from the door to table in the blink of an eye. “Sloane.”

  I held up my hand. “Shut up, Chaser.”

  Wren picked up the bone and turned it over, rubbing her thumb over the markings. “These sigils… They’re old.”

  “Yeah, a hundred years,” Chaser drawled.

  “It’s a binding spell entangled with some kind of compulsion… There’s an anchor someplace. I can sense threads reaching towards something, but I can’t see what.” She shook her head and pursed her lips. “This magic was cast by an entire coven. One witch can’t undo that kind of magic.” She set the bone down and looked at me. “I can’t help you.”

  My heart sank. And entire coven? Where would we find one of those? Nowhere.

  “If the spell can’t be removed, then can it be destroyed?” I asked.

  “No. And I wouldn’t try, either.”

  “Why?”

  “Whatever or whoever that thing is binding will feel everything you do to it.” Her gaze moved to Chaser.

  He snorted. “That’s a real help.”

  Wren glared at him, her fear turning into confidence as her true self began to shine through. “Then I suggest you hide it where no one will ever find it.”

  I picked up the talisman and turned it over in my palm. Where could we stash it? I wasn’t about to keep carrying it around with us on our mission to take out King. The last thing we needed was for it to end up in the wrong hands. A safety deposit box seemed a little cliché…

  “We put it back where it came from,” Chaser said with a grunt.

  My gaze lifted. “Put it back?”

  “No one will be able to take it from us then,” he said, glancing at Wren. “Can it be done?”

  The witch nodded. “It’ll hurt.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “Tomorrow,” I said, slipping the talisman into the safety of my shirt sleeve. “I think we can all do with some rest tonight.” I handed Wren back the Cherry Ripe.

  “Can’t wait,” Chaser drawled.

  I smiled at the witch as warmly as I could manage. “Thank you, Wren.”

  “O-okay?” She looked bewildered, her eyes shifting between us.

  “You’re welcome.” I laughed, feeling more hopeful about our situation than I had in days.

  All Chaser did was frown…and rub his forearm.

  I stood on the roof, watching the highway. Darkness wrapped the little town like a thick blanket, the sparse spattering of light barely breaking the absoluteness.

  I’d made Chaser get Wren her own room for the night so we could have some alone time. I knew he wanted to tear me a new one over bringing her into the fold, but I was done leaning on others. I had to take charge of my destiny. Wren could help us, and right now, the only thing we could do was take care of our biggest weakness—the talisman.

  “I can’t believe you just let her in and told her all our secrets,” Chaser said behind me. “The talisman—”

  “You don’t get to turn into a controlling boyfriend,” I interrupted, trying to keep my voice from rising. “This is a partnership, Chaser. It’s my life, too.”

  “We’re not playing a game,” he fired back.

  “I know what’s at stake! We’ve been talking about it for weeks!”

  “Then what aren’t you understanding? Why did you leave when I told you to stay put?”

  “I was hungry, Chaser. I didn’t know when you were coming back, so I went to get something to eat. Deal with it.” I wasn’t going to apologise for leaving the room or make excuses for my lack of understanding of witches. “You were gone for over twenty hours.”

  “I had to work a deal,” he said. “And it’s a ten-hour round trip. That’s why it took so long.”

  “What deal?”

  He sighed and leaned against the railing. “Fortitude has a new live-in cook.”

  I made a face. “Okay?”

  “The guy… The informant was almost no good. His importance to the Hollow Men was almost non-existent, but he was able to give me a few leads.”

  “So, in exchange for getting him out of the city and setting him up with a cushy job with burly bodyguards, you got us a couple of maybes?” I curled my lip. “Seems like a bad deal to me.”

  “It’s better than nothing.”

  “We’ll see about that,” I muttered.

  Chaser snorted. “I have a vampire cook and you have a broken-hearted witch. Are we even now?”

  “Not even half.”

  He tensed but didn’t bite back.

  “Wren will help us with the talisman, then we can help her…by helping ourselves. We all want the same thing, Chaser.” I laid a hand on his shoulder. “We have to take care of one another. It doesn’t matter if we’re all different species. We’re not going to segregate our problems anymore. The Hollow Men have terrorised everyone. It’s not just about me and my curse-free blood anymore. They have to be stopped.”

  Chaser looked up at me, the anger in his eyes fading. “And you say you’re not ready to be alpha.”

  I sighed. “I’m not. One clever statement doesn’t make me a leader.”

  “It’s a start.”

  “Just like trusting Wren.”

  He snorted. “And all I have to do is let the witch who conspired to have you murdered cut open my arm, break my bones, and implant a magical talisman inside me.”

  “It’s a start,” I said firmly, wrapping my arm around his waist.

  “Who knows? It might be better than a wooden bullet to the heart.”

  We stood together for a while, watching the stars. It certainly felt like the calm before the storm.

  “So, what now?” I asked. “What are we going to do with your maybe leads?”

  “After we deal with the talisman,” Chaser said, “we go back to the city and see if Monroe is full of shit or not.”

  “Already?”

  He nodded. “It’s time to head into the city.”

  “For real?” My stomach churned in a different kind of way.

  “For real.”

  Chapter 7

  Sloane

  The sun rose the next morning in a blaze of burnt red and orange. The smear of bushfire smoke was dissipating, but I could still smell it in the air—charred wood and eucalyptus.

  Leaning against the railing on the edge of the motel roof, I sighed. Last night had been one hell of a ride and today we were going to perform bush surgery on Chaser’s arm. Thinking about the logistics only made me squirm. It was going to hurt…a lot.

  “Hi.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Wren. “Hey.”

  “Mind if I join you?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  The witch came to stand next to me and I looked her over. She appeared human, though she had a scent about her that felt slightly metallic. I wondered if I was picking up on her magic.

  “Where’s the vampire?”

  “Not far.”

  Chaser had gone into town for supplies, which was a big deal considering he didn’t trust Wren’s motivations. He’d warned me before he’d left that she might decide her plan was easier and knock me over the head. I trusted her, but after the things I’d been through, there was still a grain of doubt.

  “I had a lot of time to think last night,” Wren began as she leaned against the railing.

  “So did I,” I admitted.

  “When I came here, I expected you to be like your father. I expected a fight.”

  I said nothing, waiting to see where she was going.

  “Your vampire would’ve killed me if it wasn’t for you.” She sighed and lowered her gaze. “I wanted to say… I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  At first, I was a little taken aback, but I smiled. “I know it’s not the best situation to get to know one another, and we don’t really have the time, but I appreciate you helping us with the talisman.”

  Wren shrugged.

  “So…witches,” I said, sitting in one of the lawn chairs. “What’s the deal with that?”

  Wren smiled and sat in the chair beside mine, the plastic creaking. “Well, I was born this way. Magic is inherited, though it depends on the bloodline as to what elemental affinity that magic holds.”

  “Elemental affinity? What’s that?”

  “Earth, air, fire, water, or spirit,” she explained. “Witches can call on all five, but one is always stronger than the rest.”

  “Oh…” I mulled over it for a moment. “What is your element then?”

  “Fire.” Wren shrugged and averted her gaze like she was ashamed of it.

  “You can manipulate fire? Sounds cool to me…but why do I sense you’re not so thrilled about it?”

  “There’s a…history with my bloodline,” she admitted. “A bad one.”

  “Like what?”

  “They say it was my ancestor, the beginning of my line, who was responsible for creating all vampires.”

  I grimaced as I realised why the Hollow Men had taken an interest in her family. King was looking for a way to become truly immortal, so it was no wonder he’d manipulated Wren’s coven. If they still had access to the spell that created the first vampire, maybe they had access to more. Considering he was after me, I had a feeling they didn’t.

  “King manipulated you,” I said. “That’s nothing to be ashamed about.”

  “It’s not that. She betrayed all witches when she made the vampires. Her blood runs in my veins.”

  “Blood doesn’t mean shit.” I waved my arms in the air. “Just look at me. If it was true, then I’d be like Marini. I’d rather choke on my own vomit than be a shred like that man.”

  Wren sighed. “I like to think that, but sometimes I’m not so sure.”

  “C’mon.” I leaned forwards, the chair creaking dangerously. One of these days, the sun-bleached plastic was going to break completely.

  “Just look at what I was going to do to you.”

  “That has nothing to do with blood,” I told her. “The vampires killed your entire family for standing up to them. If I was in your position, I might’ve done the same thing.” I hesitated.

  Wren picked up on my uncertainly and snorted. “You don’t believe that.”

  “I do, I just… I killed my father. Tore out his throat. I’m not sure…” I swallowed hard and pushed away the memory. “No one can truly understand until they’re in the same position. It’s not my place to judge you; I can only forgive.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “What I mean to say is that actions speak louder than blood ever will.”

  “Said by someone who only just found out the supernatural world exists.” Wren sank back in her chair and sighed. “Everything is about blood.”

  Footsteps on the stairs behind us ended our conversation before I could reply, and I narrowed my eyes.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” Chaser said, appearing behind us. “I was riveted.”

  “Did you get what we need?” Wren asked.

  “There wasn’t much to choose from at the supermarket, but I got what I could,” he told her. “Which is a knife, a hammer, a handsaw, a chisel, fishing line and hooks.”

  My mouth fell open as he showed me the contents of the reusable shopping bag.

  “You’re going to cut open your arm with this?” I exclaimed, holding up a fillet knife. “You’re not filleting a barramundi, Chaser.”

  “It’s the best we’ve got,” he said, handing the bag to Wren. He gave her a pointed look. “I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it.”

  “We are not doing it on the roof,” I exclaimed, jerking to my feet. “It’s not sterile for one, and two—”

  “I’m a vampire,” Chaser interrupted. “I don’t need alcohol swabs.”

  “We can go somewhere in the bush,” Wren said, looking through the bag. “It’ll be better. I need clear access to my magic and the less barriers between me and the elements, the better.”

  “It’s an outdoorsy thing?” I asked.

  “Buildings dampen magic.”

  Interesting. I made a mental note, wondering if it’d have any impact on the alleged wards on the Halcyon.

  “Do you have the talisman?” Chaser asked me, and I tapped my shirt pocket. “Then let’s get this over with.”

  We found a secluded patch of gum trees half a kilometre from the motel and made ourselves comfortable. It was far enough away from the road to keep us out of sight, and far enough from town where no one would accidentally stumble across us.

  I lingered amongst the trees as Chaser and Wren prepared, taking in the flat expanse of farmland. It was a beautiful vista, all green and gold with maturing wheat and blue from the summer sky. Too bad it was about to become the scene of a brutal magical surgery.

  “I’ll cast spells to help me cut the bone and slow the bleeding,” Wren explained as Chaser began to work with the hooks and fishing line. “Things will go faster that way.”

  I glanced at Chaser, who’d positioned himself on the trunk of a fallen tree. “So, then you just have the position the bone and his vampire healing will do the rest?”

  “Yes,” he said. “My bone will fuse with the talisman and my flesh will heal.”

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked. “I mean… It’s going to hurt.”

  He took my hand. “I expect it will.”

  “Chaser…”

  “Anything to keep you safe,” he murmured, letting me go.

  If Wren had an opinion about our exchange, she kept it to herself.

  Chaser straddled the tree and set his arm before him. “Let’s begin, shall we?”

  Wren took a deep breath and picked up the knife. “Here goes nothing.”

  I felt like throwing up as I watched her cut into Chaser’s flesh. Skin and muscle parted like butter, exposing the pinkish-white bone beneath.

  Chaser barely moved, though his forehead creased as he held onto his pain. It must’ve been excruciating, but he didn’t make a sound. I, on the other hand, began to fret as Wren used Chaser’s makeshift fishing lure contraption to anchor the wound open.

  “I’m going to be sick.” I slapped my hand over my mouth.

  “Vampires heal fast,” Wren said. “I know it looks bad, but if it closes over, I’ll just have to cut him open again.”

  “Just get on with it,” Chaser said, grimacing.

  Wren picked up the handsaw, but it was too large to cut the bone, so she discarded it in favour of the hammer and chisel.

  My expression faded and my breakfast almost made a repeat appearance, but I squashed it down when I saw Chaser’s already pale complexion turn an odd shade of bluish-grey.

  I knew the witches that Fortitude had used all those decades ago had wiped his memory to conceal the truth about the talisman, but it’d also erased the pain. Reality and memory were two different beasts and right now, Chaser was struggling. Underneath all that bravado and cool vampiric exterior, it was easy to forget that he still felt pain.

  I had to be strong for him. I had to be strong.

  Placing my hands on his shoulders, I pressed against him. “I’m here,” I whispered into his ear. “You can do this.”

  Wren began to chant in a strange language as she called on her magic and the air around us shifted. Amongst the tang of blood, I could pick up on the tendrils of something unknown. It tasted like burning metal, like sparks from a forge, and my eyes widened as Wren raised the chisel.

  The tip glowed bright orange, her magic feeding into the tool as she positioned it over the bone in Chaser’s arm. His blood had stopped flowing and the field was clear.

  I tightened my grip on his shoulders as she struck the hammer. His whole body jerked, but he never made a sound, not even when his arm snapped.

  Wren’s chanting continued, her magic working to sever the last sliver, then the bone was gone, and she was placing the talisman into the gap.

  I didn’t have the courage to look as she removed the hooks, but as Chaser’s trembling began to subside, I chanced it. His flesh knitted back together, the talisman disappearing underneath muscle, blood, and sinew. Then his skin curled, the edges reaching towards each other. It was mesmerising in a macabre kind of way.

  “It’s done,” Wren said, putting the bloodied tools back inside the bag. “The bone accepted the talisman. You shouldn’t have any problems with it.”

  I cradled Chaser’s head in my hands, my heart pounding. “Are you alright?”

  “The pain is gone, Sloane,” he said. “You can let me go.”

  I peeled myself away, reluctant to let him out of my grasp. He’d taken the whole thing with unnatural stoicism. Was that a vampire thing or something else? I wasn’t sure if he’d ever let me in on the secret, whatever it was.