Kelley Armstrong - The Reckoning

They came back ten minutes later.

“He’s not here,” Simon whispered.

“What?”

“There’s no sign of him anywhere,” Tori said. “The truck’s outside, but there aren’t any lights on in the house.”

“And his shoes are gone,” Simon said.

“Meeting someone,” I whispered. “Someone must be here to take Derek, and Andrew’s outside with him, trying to figure out how to do this.”

“Or he’s been taken,” Tori said.

Derek rubbed his face, then gave his head a sharp shake. “Forget Andrew. Let’s just go and be careful.”

Simon threw Derek’s arm over his shoulders, despite his brother’s protests. I carried Derek’s bag as well as my own; Tori had Simon’s.

We peered down the dark hall. Derek sniffed. The last trace of Andrew was old, meaning he hadn’t come upstairs since delivering the sodas. Derek stood at the top of the main staircase and listened, then shook his head. No sounds from below.

We headed for the stairs at the back of the house, the narrow ones we’d found earlier, probably for servants once upon a time. It was one area Tori hadn’t cleaned-nor had anyone in years, apparently, and I had to cover my nose and mouth so dust didn’t set me sneezing.

When we reached the bottom, I was in the lead, Tori right behind me, and Simon helping Derek at the rear. The stairs ended at a door. I turned the knob slowly, trying to be quiet. It twisted partway, then stopped. I pushed. The door didn’t budge.

Tori shouldered past me and tried. “Locked,” she whispered. “I thought you guys-”

“Checked all the doors last night,” Simon said. “We did. It was open.”

“Move,” Derek mumbled, his voice still thick.

We squeezed aside. He wrenched the knob and the lock snapped, making me wince at the noise.

The stairs opened into a dark, low ceilinged room. An old pantry or something. Tori flicked on her flashlight. The room was filthy and empty-another reason no one used these stairs. This time, she was first to the door. I knew what she’d find even before she announced it.

“Locked.”

“Seriously?” Simon whispered.

Derek strode past, awake now. He twisted the knob and, again, the lock snapped. He yanked the door. It didn’t budge. He pulled harder, making the hinges groan.

“It’s spell-locked,” said a voice behind us.

We turned as Andrew stepped through the stairwell doorway. Simon’s fingers flew up for a knock-back spell. Derek wheeled to charge. Andrew swung his hand toward me. Sparks flew from his fingers. Simon and Derek both stopped.

Andrew gave a wry smile. “I thought that might work. Simon, you know how this goes. I’ve got a spell all set to launch. It only takes a word to finish it.”

“Wh-what kind of spell?” I whispered, hypnotized by those sparks jumping at me.

“Lethal,” Andrew said.

Derek growled. A real growl, so wolflike it made the hair stand up on my neck.

Off to the side, Tori mouthed something at me. I couldn’t make it out, but guessed she was warning me she was going to cast.

“No,” Derek said, the word still almost a growl. His gaze was fixed on Andrew, and I thought he was talking to him, but then his eyes slid Tori’s way. “No.”

“Listen to Derek,” Andrew said. “If he thought there was any way of getting to me before I launched this spell, he’d do it himself. Tori, move in front of me, please, so I can see your lips. Simon, sit on your hands. Derek?”

I glanced over at Derek. His gaze was riveted on Andrew, eyes blazing, the muscles in his jaw taut. Andrew said his name again, but he didn’t seem to hear, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“Derek,” Andrew said, sharper.

“What?” Another growl passing as a word.

Andrew flinched, then caught himself and squared his shoulders. “Turn around.”

“No.”

“Derek.”

Derek only glowered. Then he tilted his head and I couldn’t see his expression, but something in it made Andrew draw back, just a little. His Adam’s apple bobbed. He tried to straighten again, tried to meet Derek’s gaze, but couldn’t quite manage it. His fingers flexed, sparks jumping as they faced off.

“Derek?” I whispered. “Please. Don’t do this.”

He started at the sound of my voice, breaking eye contact with Andrew, and the second he did, his expression changed, the wolf drawing back, Derek returning.

“Do as he says,” I said. “Please.”

He nodded and slowly turned to face the wall.

“Thank you,” Andrew said. “I’d hoped to avoid this, but I guess I underestimated the dose. I don’t want to hurt you, Derek. That’s why I knocked you out. I don’t want to hurt any of you. I’m here to protect you. I always have been.”

Simon snorted. “Yeah, sure you don’t want to hurt Derek. You asked those werewolves to kill him painlessly, right?”

“I didn’t try to kill Derek.”

“No, you hired someone to do it. You’re too big a coward to look him in the face and pull the trigger. Or maybe it was the mess you were worried about. I know how much you like your clothes. Bloodstains are such a bitch to get out.”

“I didn’t-”

“We found the emails!” Simon jumped to his feet, then at a look from Derek, stopped and lowered himself to the floor again. “We know you were in on it.”

“Yes, I was in on the plan to hand Derek over to the Pack. That’s what you found, isn’t it? Nothing about me giving them permission to kill him. That was entirely Russell’s doing. Our plan was to turn him over to the Pack. Tomas and I learned everything we could about them until we were satisfied they wouldn’t kill a sixteen-year-old werewolf. They’re like any other organized group of supernaturals-a place for their race to learn how to control their powers and live in the human world. A place where they can be with their own kind.”

I looked over at Derek, bracing myself to see a glimmer that said that’s what he wanted. But he only stared at the wall, his gaze empty, emotionless.

“That’s what I think is best for you, Derek,” Andrew said. “Werewolves belong with werewolves.”

“And sons belong with fathers,” I said quietly.

Andrew stiffened. His gaze shot to mine, wary.

“We found those emails, too,” I said. “You kept their dad away from them.”

A pause. Then, “Yes, I did. And there’s a reason.”

“Sure there is,” Simon said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Let me guess. Our dad is really an evil Cabal sorcerer. Or an Edison Group double agent. Take your pick. He’s a bad, bad guy who’d kill us if he got the chance.”

“No, Simon,” Andrew said, his voice softening. “Your dad is the best father I know. He gave up everything-his career, his friends, his life-to go on the run to protect you. He refused to join our group because it could endanger you. His priority is you two, not taking down the Edison Group. He would never let me take you back to that lab to help stop them. If I called, he’d take you-all four of you-and run. He’ll tell me to stop the Edison Group without you.”

“Not a bad idea,” Tori said.

Andrew shook his head. “If Kit takes you kids, then you’re safe. If you’re safe, then my people have no motivation to disband the Edison Group. I’ve been trying to convince them to do this for years, and now they’re ready to act, but only if there’s an immediate threat. If you’re gone, they’ll return to monitoring. And that’s if they decide to let you go with him.”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Simon said. “Takes us off their hands.”

“For many of them, that’s the least of their worries, falling far behind their concern over the threat you pose to the supernatural world at large. If your dad comes…” He shifted, hand flexing, the spell wavering for a split second before surging again. “I hope that Russell acted alone when he told those werewolves to kill Derek and Chloe, but honestly…I don’t know.”