The Alpha's Warlock by Eliot Grayson

Author:Eliot Grayson [Grayson, Eliot]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Smoking Teacup Books
Published: 2020-03-17T16:00:00+00:00

***

“Nice car,” Ian said, and sounded genuinely sincere. Maybe even a little jealous. Dor drove something black-on-black the size of a tank. Not that I was all that surprised. “It’s a seventy-eight, right? Fleetwood Brougham?”

“Seventy-nine,” Dor said with a raised eyebrow.

Ian turned bright red and sullenly opened one of the back doors. We were in a small and smelly garage behind the bar, where Charlie and Dor had led us a few minutes after their interruption. Ian and I had spent the intervening time splashing water on our faces and avoiding looking at each other as much as possible. Night had fallen while we cooled our heels upstairs, and all Charlie had told us as we went down to the garage was that they’d explain on the way, because we were burning moonlight.

“Is there some reason we’re using a car at all?” I mean, why have magic as cool as Dor’s if you weren’t going to use it? “Couldn’t we go the fast way?”

“Magic’s too conspicuous,” Charlie said. “We’re trying not to look like a supernatural hit squad.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow and look pointedly at the most conspicuous car I’d seen in years, even counting Ian’s red dick-compensator — not that he needed it.

“To everyone else, it’s going to look like a minivan,” Dor said. “And I can hide all of us in a car. I can’t hide one of my windows opening in the middle of warded territory.”

That caught my professional interest. “Oh yeah? So you can target the endpoint but not extend your shielding beyond the window itse —”

“Can we please nerd out later?” Ian groused, and slid into the back seat. “Places to go, hopefully throats to rip out with my teeth.”

Charlie grinned, showing his own very unfriendly set. “For once I agree with Lassie. Let’s go.”

Dor drove, Charlie climbed in next to him, and I got in the back with Ian. It felt uncomfortably like what I imagined family road trips might be like, not that I’d ever had one. I was pretty sure my birth mother was still alive, although last I’d heard she was living with some cult that used mescaline to commune with coyote demons somewhere in Arizona. She wasn’t the family-road-trip type. She also wasn’t the having-a-son type, and she’d stuck around exactly long enough to get some prescription painkillers from the obstetrician. My father passed me off to a witch who owed him a favor until I was old enough to use for magic. No, not the kind of family that sang camping songs while driving to Yellowstone.

“No fighting in the back seat,” Charlie called out, adding to the impression of a through-the-looking-glass family outing. Dor gunned the impressively growly engine and we rumbled our way out of the garage, Dor waving a hand to shut the garage door behind us.

We headed out of town to the south, and Ian and I glanced at each other. The Kimball territory, then, almost certainly.

Charlie turned around in his seat right as I was about to start nagging him.

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