Moira Rogers - Deadlock

Andrew eased away a little, as if in capitulation, then dove against the bars. This time, they bent enough to activate the wards, and the snap of energy drove the young wolf back. He snarled again and paced, all his attention focused on the cowering man’s face.

Finally, he released a deep breath. «Have it your way, Alec.» To the man in the cage, he flashed another feral grin. «I won’t forget your face. Remember that when you try to sleep at night.»

Alec didn’t look away, in case Andrew decided to push a challenge. «If you want to talk, you can wait for me upstairs.»

«I’m sick of talking.» Andrew turned from the cage and glowered at him. «I’ll come back later and fix your door. Doors, whatever.»

Alec nodded. «For what it’s worth, Kat dropped him. By herself. The idiot underestimated her.»

Andrew paused. «I heard. I’m still going to kill him one day.» He ducked through the open doorway and hurried up the stairs.

The sound of his footsteps faded, and Alec turned to his captive and tilted his head. «He’s going to kill you one day.»

The guy didn’t stand, and it took Alec a moment to realize he was shaking so badly he probably couldn’t. «He won’t find me.»

«Don’t make any bets on it. You punched the wrong girl in the face.»

His prisoner didn’t speak again, maybe because there was nothing to say, or maybe for fear of pissing Alec off badly enough to call Andrew back. Alec scrubbed a hand over his chin and slogged up the stairs, pausing at the top to haul the door up and lean it against the wall.

The front door was in slightly better condition. Andrew had pulled it shut, but the frame was shattered where he’d smashed open the deadbolt. He shouldn’t have been able to do it at all, but Alec had gotten lazy and complacent, secure because no one in the city would dare challenge him in his own house. Not after what had happened the last time.

Not after Heidi.

The biblical-style vengeance he’d delivered to those responsible for his wife’s death was the stuff of supernatural legend, but maybe he’d been riding on his reputation for too long.

Better safe than sorry. Repairing the damage was beyond him, but he could at least get Mariko out to make sure the magic in the cage wasn’t compromised by the bent bars…and to renew the wards on his doors. After that…

Well, he might have to pay Carmen a visit after all. Someone had to warn Miguel Mendoza that getting too friendly with Kat could get him killed.

When Kat found out, she’d probably take her stun gun to Andrew’s face. And won’t that be fun?

Alec fought a groan as he returned to his bedroom to get ready for work. The sun was barely up and the day was already shittier than yesterday. At this rate, tomorrow was likely to be hell.

It was almost eighty degrees already, a little warm for early April, even in New Orleans. Carmen locked the front door behind her and dialed her cell phone as she stepped off the porch.

Kat answered on the second ring, sounding slightly out of breath. «Dr. Mendoza?»

«Carmen,» she corrected. «Call me Carmen, remember?»

«Carmen.» The faint strains of music in the background cut off. «Hey, listen, I appreciate this, but you don’t have to come take me to lunch. I’m fine. You have to have better things to do.»

«Too late. I’m already on my way.» She squinted against the midday sun and slid on her sunglasses. «I just need directions to your office.»

Kat gave her quick, concise directions to a side street in the Central Business District. «If you hurry, you’ll get here before Alec comes back from bugging whoever he’s bugging. He’s been even crabbier than usual today.»

All she had to do was hit St. Charles, and it would be a nearly straight shot. «I can be there in» Her phone beeped. «I’ve got to go. Someone’s on the other line. Give me ten minutes, tops.»

«See you then.»

Once she looked at the caller ID, Carmen stopped in her tracks and hesitated before flashing to the other line. «Hi, Dad.»

«Honey.» He sounded almost relieved. «I thought you might not answer.»

«I considered it.»

«Don’t hang up,» he said quickly. «You didn’t come to dinner last night with your brother.»

She’d parked on the opposite side of the street, so she crossed carefully and leaned to sit on the hood of her car. «I didn’t feel like having to defend myself.»

«I would have liked to have seen you.»

He sounded sincere. As a child, Carmen would have given anything to hear him say those words and mean them, but it hadn’t happened. Not after she’d watched him look her mother in the eye and tell her that he loved her, but he still had to go. «Miguel told me why you’re here, and you should know I have no intention of meeting this guy you’ve picked out for me.»

«That’s a shame. Richard is a very solid young man. He’s successful, and he’s looking forward to meeting you.»

He spoke as if it were a foregone conclusion, and Carmen’s temper spiked. «How much are you and Uncle Cesar paying him?»

«Excuse me?»

«To take a human as a wife,» she clarified.

He hesitated just a little too long before stammering out a denial, and a piece of Carmen’s heart she hadn’t realized was still whole shattered. Her eyes stung, and she clenched one hand around the edge of the hood. «Never mind. He’d just leave one day anyway, wouldn’t he?»

«That’s not fair,» he objected, his voice showing the first tinges of anger. «You were barely twelve, Carmen. A child. Things were more complicated».

«I know.» And she did, that was the hell of it. She’d rather be back in that childish ignorance, believing that her father had left them, left her pregnant mother, because he no longer cared.

Now she knew that he cared, had always cared, just not enough to stand up to the rest of his family.

«Will you meet Richard? He’s in Memphis on business. He could fly down this weekend.»

She eased her sunglasses up and rubbed her eyes. «No, and you need to stop asking. We’re not talking about political alliances, Dad. We’re talking about the rest of my life, and I’m not for sale.»

His silence now was heavy, almost sad. «I’m sorry to hear you say that, honey.»

Fear shivered up Carmen’s spine. «Dad?»

«I have to go now, but I’ll see you soon.» With that, he hung up.

She sat there for a moment, staring at her phone. Every not-quite-human instinct in her screamed danger, and she dialed Julio’s number almost without thinking.

It routed directly to his voicemail, and she tried to think of something reasonable to say as she half-listened to his greeting. I’m afraid of our family was alarmist, and she’d be hard pressed to explain exactly why she was scared. What could they do?

What would they do?

A shrill beep interrupted her thoughts, and Carmen swallowed hard. «Hey, Julio. It’s me. Look, I don’t — I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m a little worried. If something happens to me—»

A white van screeched to a stop beside her car. The door slid open, and two men dressed in dark clothes reached for her.

Carmen ran. She almost tripped over the curb, but recovered enough to keep going. Halfway across a neighbor’s tiny postage-stamp-sized lawn, strong hands wound in the back of her shirt.

She screamed, but a hand clapped over her mouth a second later, muffling the sound. «There’s a witch in the van. If you don’t cooperate, she’ll make you cooperate.»

Her odds weren’t good if they managed to get her into the van. She kicked wildly, more in hopes of attracting attention than hurting the man. All it earned her was a tiny, frustrated sigh, and then she couldn’t move at all.