Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) Read online

  There’s a woompf, a flare of heat, a flash of light, the briefest of screams, and then there’s just the three of us in a dirty little darkened alley behind a seedy nightclub. The wail of sirens in the distance tells me they’ve found Nancy’s victim, her last victim, in the bathroom inside.

  Without a word spoken between us, Luke helps me to my feet and the three of us head home.

  ********

  Tired is too plain a word to describe the level of bone heavy exhaustion I’m feeling. I’m stretched out in the tub, coconut scented bubbles covering the water, candles lit in the corners and a glass of water within reach of my water-logged hand. It’s almost too much effort to lift the glass — especially with the heavy beads of condensation gathering on the outside — but I’m just so damn thirsty. And hungry. As soon as I can get my body following directions again, I’m gonna have to head out to the kitchen and scrounge up something to eat.

  The magic just takes so much out of me. I sink a little lower in the tub, letting the water reach my chin. My hair’s getting wet, but that’s just going to have to be OK for now. I’ll pull it back tonight and wash it for real once I can trust myself to stand in the shower.

  So, what? That’s number five? My roommates and I have killed five people? I sigh and close my eyes. They aren’t really people. Anymore. I mean, they used to be people, but they kinda turned in their humanity card when they started drinking human blood to survive. Plus, these guys Daya’s sent us after aren’t exactly good Samaritans. The exact opposite actually.

  I go through this every time. The whole the world’s a better place without them thing. And it never really works. I still feel guilty and worn afterwards. I’m just not a killer.

  Ha.

  I open my eyes and sit up. I’m most definitely a killer. Like five times a killer, as of tonight. And that’s only counting the people I’ve killed on purpose. I guess I’m just not a very good one. I splash some water on my face and pull the plug, standing on my still weak legs as water filters out of the tub. I’m almost tired enough to ignore my growling stomach. I could just crawl into bed and sleep for days…

  My tummy gives one gurgling protest and I pull on a pair of sweats and a tank top, pile my hair on top of my head and wrap a hair tie around it. I’ll just grab something quick. I’ll sleep better on a full stomach anyway.

  The kitchen’s a disaster. Bread crumbs on the counter mingling with bits of shredded cheese. Empty water bottles fallen on their side and forgotten. A dirty plate, with bits of ketchup and mayonnaise drying to a hardened mess in the sink. Definitely Luke’s handiwork.

  Normally, I’d at least wipe the counter clean, but tonight, I just work around the mess. He can take care of it in the morning. Hell, I guess it already is morning. He can take care of it when he wakes up.

  Noah wanders in while I’m eating and my food turns to sawdust in my mouth. We’ve had to work together so closely these last couple weeks. I mean, we live together for Pete’s sake. And our jobs are right next door to each other. And then, you know, there’s the whole thing where we have to go on these crazy covert missions where we trust each other with our lives. You’d think things might have thawed a little between us.

  That’s not fair. Things have most definitely improved. Just not to the level that I want them to improve.

  “Hey,” he says as I try to swallow the lump of food in my mouth.

  I smile and nod and grab a drink of water. “Hey.” I watch him open the fridge and dig around inside. He always has trouble eating after we manage to take out a target. “Your throat OK?”

  He twists so I can see the spreading bruise, black and blue and quite clearly caused by a set of human teeth. “Gonna be hard to explain that one away.”

  “Just say it’s your overzealous girlfriend.” I take another swig of water and pull out a bag of tortilla chips from the cupboard. Toss them his way. Even when he doesn’t have an appetite, he’s got room for those. “You’ll get a ton of street cred at work.”

  Noah laughs. Not the good one. Not the one that makes me feel like I’m home. It’s this tense little thing, almost a cough. “I’ll heal myself when I’ve had a chance to rest up a little. You pulled a lot of energy from me.”

  For a moment I’m back in that dirty alley, time stopped. Nancy’s teeth at his throat. The very last fraction of a second before she bit down and killed him. My heart wrenches in my chest. I don’t think he realizes how close he was to not being here with me, having this awkward conversation while he tears open a bag of tortilla chips.

  I shrug a little and feel my eyes come back into focus. “Sorry.”

  This is more than I can handle right now. I don’t have the energy to look him in the eyes, to know how much I love him, how much he doesn’t love me, and know how close I came to losing him completely tonight. I finish my snack and down another glass of water. Rinse my plate and fit it into the mess in the sink.

  “Well, goodnight,” I say as I brush past him, eyes on the ground, careful to give him a wide enough berth so we don’t accidentally touch.

  And then, out of the blue, his hand is on my arm and there’s that warm zing of his energy soaring through me. I freeze, but don’t turn around. I don’t want him to see the tears welling in my eyes.

  “Zoe?” There’s a softness in his voice that I haven’t heard in a long time. I turn my head just enough to show that I’m listening and hope he can’t see the tears. Or feel how my whole body is trembling. Or if he feels it, that he’ll just attribute it to my fatigue and not know that it’s because he’s touching me and it feels so good.

  “Ya?” I ask, glad that my voice doesn’t quaver.

  “Thank you.” He lets his hand slide from my arm. I blink my eyes dry and face him. “I know I owe you my life. I’m not really sure how you did what you did, but thank you.” He smiles and it’s the first time since Windsor that it’s lit up his eyes the way it’s supposed to and if I don’t get out of here now, I’m going to lose it.

  What do I say? Back atcha? You’d do it for me? I couldn’t let that bitch kill you because I love you?

  No. I don’t think any of those will do.

  I drop my gaze, speechless for the first time in a long time. Chin to chest, I shrug a little, old school blush flaring red across my cheeks. I mutter something along the lines of you’re welcome and disappear into my bedroom. I just stand in the darkened room for a bit, too weary to process what just happened. That’s the first time Noah’s acted even kind of friendly towards me, the first time he’s dropped his all business attitude.

  The bed just about swallows me up as I lay down, it feels that good. Of course, since I’m more exhausted than I’ve been in ages, sleep won’t come. I’m busy replaying everything that happened with Nancy. Processing that is easier than processing Noah. As my windows start to glow with the early morning light, and my thoughts twist and dance around in my head, a grim mix of Noah and Nancy, I have one last thought.

  Lucy knows what Daya’s doing. Nancy basically said as much. None of us are going to be safe while Lucy’s still alive. And as crazy as it sounds, I still have my heart set on a happily ever after with Noah. If I’m ever going to get that, Lucy’s gonna have to die, whether or not Daya gives us the order.

  Chapter Three

  Almost as soon as my eyes close, my alarm goes off. At least that’s what it feels like. But, I can tell by the blaze of light at the window that I’ve slept through into the afternoon and it’s time to get up and go to work. I’ve only slept a few hours and I still feel like shit. The whole purpose of getting these ‘throw away job’s’ as Daya calls them was so it wouldn’t matter if I had to miss days and end up getting fired because of it.

  Thing is, I’ve never missed a day of school or work in my life for anything short of throwing up. And I actually kind of like this job. So, I’ll be going to work today, aching head and body and all, even if I did kill a vampire last night. I didn’t leave much time to get ready, definitely not enough time to wash
my hair, so I pull it back, wash my face, throw on some clothes and head out into the living room.

  Luke’s sprawled out on the couch, a pair of warm up pants sliding dangerously low on his hips, his bare chest looking chiseled and spectacularly massive above his trim waist. He’s easy on the eyes, that’s for sure. Although now that I know him, it just makes me mad that he looks so good.

  “Kitchen’s still a mess,” I say as I bend over to lace up my boots.

  “Sure is,” he replies, sitting up and raising his eyebrows. “You’re not going to work, are you?”

  “Sure am.”

  He shakes his head, disdain written all over his face. “You guys are something.”

  And that’s the end of that little conversation. I pull on my coat and gloves, sling my bag over my shoulder, and head out the door. The world is blinding. I guess those flakes that started to fall last night were just the precursors to the first actual snow of winter. There’s about three inches of the stuff covering every visible surface, reflecting the sun into the most painful thing ever for a girl with a headache. I look down and blink my eyes into focus. Fresh boot prints lead away from our door, out onto the sidewalk, and off towards the little shopping center where Noah and I work.

  So that’s what Luke meant.

  I guess Noah didn’t call in today either.

  The walk to work is brisk and the cold does me good, making sure I’m fully awake when I press open the doors to Sir Perks-a-Lot, the coffee shop where I work. Michael Buble’s crooning through the speakers and the now familiar scent of coffee and baked goods brings a smile to my face. Don’t judge. People can change. So it wasn’t too long ago that I hated the smell of coffee. It also wasn’t too long ago that I didn’t even know I’m a witch.

  “Woah…” Krystal — the barista with the ever changing hair color — says as her eyebrows hit her hairline. Her now cherry red hairline. “You look rough. Bad night?”

  “You could say that.”

  Krystal’s already making me something with too much caffeine, so I go hang up my coat and purse in the break room. The place is kind of dead — which is strange — and the two of us chat away as we get a lot of the busy work out of the way. I’m not gonna lie, it’s really nice to pretend I’m just a normal girl, doing normal things. As the customers start to roll in, stamping snow off their shoes and blowing on their hands, I forget about vampires and werewolves and witches and Noah and Luke and stalking bad guys down dark alleys. I lose myself in the routine of taking orders and making drinks, of laughing while Krystal sings along with the radio, dancing and smiling as she hands drinks over to customers.

  Outside, the sky darkens and snow begins to fall again as the sun goes down. It’s gonna be a cold walk home. The bells above the door jangle again, and there’s the now familiar stamp of boots on the mat.

  Krystal nudges me. “You guys a thing again?” Her eyes light with realization as I look at her, confused. “He’s the reason you look like you didn’t sleep last night!”

  I look towards the door and my heart does that little stutter step it likes to do. Noah’s standing there, brushing snow out of his dark hair. He smiles a little when he sees me, points at the clock on the wall, mouths the words I’ll wait, and has a seat.

  “He is!” Krystal’s whisper really isn’t a whisper and I whirl on her.

  “No. It’s nothing. There’s nothing.”

  “Sweetie,” her voice gets all serious. “I’ve seen you two together, even before you started working here, and there’s no way you’re going to make me believe that there’s nothing between you.”

  I glance at Noah and he’s staring right at us, that little smile growing ever so slightly. When he catches me looking, he drops his gaze to his hands. “Well, maybe there was something between us,” I whisper to Krystal, turning my back to Noah, “but there’s not anymore.”

  “Whatever, my friend. He’s here now, isn’t he?”

  She has a point. He’s here now. I’ve got another half an hour before my shift ends and it’s the longest thirty minutes I’ve ever lived through. He’s busy trying not to watch me and I’m busy trying not to see if he’s watching me and of course, the whole world finally decides they’ve had enough coffee and there’s like, nothing to do.

  “Go on,” Krystal says, while there’s still ten eternal minutes before I’m officially off work. “I’ve got this. There’s no one here and this is hella awkward.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yep. Besides. Even if I get slammed, it’s only for ten more minutes. If that. I’m sure Melissa will be here any minute.”

  Grateful, I slide into the break room to grab my stuff. I don’t know if I’m thrilled or terrified that he’s here. That’s silly. I do know. I’m both. I’m totally ‘thrillified.’ I manage to get my coat and gloves on despite the tremor in my hands. I’m not even sure why I’m trembling except it’s been quite a crazy twenty-four hours and I’ve had a lot of espresso.

  Noah’s already at the door, waiting for me when I emerge. Krystal catches my eye and gives me a cheesy little thumbs up. I’m sure she thought she was being inconspicuous, and I guess, honestly, she was. For her. Me? I’m blushing and embarrassed and only manage a tight little wave before Noah opens the door and ushers me out into the cold.

  I can’t help but shiver. The temperature’s dropped significantly. Noah wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close and I just about die. What the hell is happening? I’m all wrapped up in those golden pings of contact, that luscious connection that I’ve missed oh so much and I’m afraid to speak or move or do anything that might ruin it all. I’d love to lean my head on his shoulder, ask him about his day, just let myself soften into his strength. But that’s not gonna happen. Not til I understand what’s going on.

  We walk in silence for a bit and just as I’m about to give up on the whole being strong thing and lean into him, he drops his arm and frees me. “Better?” he asks. “Warm now?”

  Oh.

  My heart crashes into my stomach and swirls around with all the caffeine and exhaustion. I just nod and murmur a thank you in his direction.

  “Did you get that text from Luke?”

  “Left my phone in my purse in the break room.”

  “Ahh. Well. Just when you thought the day couldn’t get any better…” he sighs. “Daya’s dropping by tonight.”

  Shit.

  A visit from Daya is … well it isn’t bad. But it sure isn’t fun. She asks a bunch of questions about the mission — that still sounds so weird … mission …

  Anyway. She asks us about what happened. We fill her in. She asks us some more prying questions. Uncomfortable questions about our mental state, our home life, those kind of things. Sometimes, she’ll set up a time for us to go to Windsor Manor or the ranch and go through a series of tests to make sure our skills are still sharp. Once, she brought food. Trays of homemade dinners, frozen and sporting labels and reheating directions in Daya’s flamboyant handwriting. Another time, she’d brought a set of dishes. They were clearly expensive, probably custom made, and way too colorful for our little apartment.

  “She’s bringing Barnabe Withers,” Noah says, his voice going all tense and taut like it does every time he mentions that name.

  Double shit.

  I’ve not had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Barnabe Withers, but both Noah and Luke know enough about him to look all hunted whenever they mention his name. And to make it worse — as if there actually is anything worse than two strong men looking a little petrified — I don’t think they realize how they act when they talk about him.

  Daya is supposed to be head witch, just like Lucy is captain of the vampires and Albert is the werewolf boss man. But because vamps and weres are sneaky, Daya’s actually not the head honcho of the witches. She’s a … what’s the word? A plant? A decoy? Ya. A decoy. Barnabe Withers is actually the leader of the witches. If you ask me, I have to wonder if that doesn’t make the witches as sneaky as the vamps and the weres.
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  We finish the rest of the walk in silence, all the excitement I had over seeing Noah walk through the door of Sir Perks-a-Lot bleeding away into anxiety. As if I didn’t have enough reasons for my hands to be trembly tonight.

  There’s this aura of dread around our apartment. Of heavy expectations and important revelations. It weighs heavier on my shoulders with each step up the walk. Or maybe that’s just me, wishing I could turn around and go back to work. Keep pretending I’m just a normal twenty-three year old woman and not a witch wrapped up in conspiracy theories and charged with saving the world.

  I’ve imagined Barnabe so many different ways. Sometimes he’s a wizened old man in a wizard’s robes, complete with white scraggly beard and kind eyes. Sometimes he’s tall and rail thin. Black haired with a narrow moustache swirling underneath his aquiline nose. Other times he’s wearing a tux and has a butler scurrying after his every move, bowing and scraping and offering him drinks in crystal glasses on a silver tray.

  I’m so not prepared for the ball of energy that’s waiting for me in my living room. He’s young. Maybe just a few years older than me. Blonde and not very tall, but lithe and slim. A smile lights up his broad face as Noah follows me inside and closes the door behind us.

  “Ahhhh,” breaths Barnabe. “The infamous Zoe.” He crosses the living room in just a few quick steps, moving with the coordination and grace of a trained athlete. His hand darts out and grasps mine.

  I gasp.

  So much power.

  I can’t even begin to understand it all.

  I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until he releases my hand.

  Barnabe leans in close and his eyes make me uneasy. “This is where you say ‘pleased to meet you, Mr. Withers.’” If his eyes made me uneasy, I can’t even begin to describe how I feel at the change in his voice.