Warhead (Blue-Eyed Bomb Book 4) Read online

  “And your brothers haven’t crawled up your ass about what happened?”

  “Oh no, they did. Muses, too. Now everyone wants you to explain the note,” I said, turning away from the firing squad. “And Jenks?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t skimp on the details.” With that out of the way, I put him on speaker and joined the group. “All right, they’re all here. Spill it.”

  Jenkins hesitated before he spoke.

  “I’m not gonna lie to you guys. All this public shit with Alejandro’s death…it’s really got the wolves riled up.” We all shared a look before he continued. “And now I’m caught in the middle of it.”

  “How?” Nico asked.

  “My territory runs between theirs,” he replied. “If they’re going after each other, it’ll be through my neighborhood. Now it’s apparent that someone wants me to pick a side.”

  “Which you won’t do,” I said.

  “Jenkins,” Ferris said, stepping closer to the phone. “Who do you suspect wants you to pick a side? We need to know more before we can approach either pack again.”

  “I know Charlotte does,” he replied. “She came to me tonight and said as much, but she seemed to be acting out of self-preservation, not aggression. Beyond that, I’ve only heard murmurings around the club about things changing now that Alejandro’s gone.”

  While Jenkins rehashed our interaction with Charlotte and all he’d overheard in the bar, Cy walked over and turned on the TV, flipping through the channels until he landed on the early morning news.

  “What about the rumors regarding the PC and Alejandro?” Muses asked. “Have they said anything helpful there?”

  “Nah,” Jenkins replied, “but they’re angry about it. Angry at how the PC can just take out whoever they want, or so they say. They think you’re a bunch of trigger-happy assholes just waiting to gun them down.”

  “Like I’d ever use a gun,” Nico scoffed.

  “This can’t be just because of Alejandro,” I argued. “They had issues with the fight club fallout.”

  “They did,” Ferris said, his expression grim. “This was precisely what we were hoping to avoid while dealing with that situation.”

  “And now we have it.” Muses’ words were sobering at best. At worst, a premonition.

  “Aw shit,” Cy called from near the TV. “Here it is.”

  “Early this morning, the body of a young local woman was found outside a downtown bar,” the newscaster said, her face stern and serious, peppered with just the right amount of horror. “She has yet to be identified, but police are working to find out who the victim is.”

  “Maybe there’s still time for TS to make this go away,” Nico said, talking over the TV.

  “—a person of interest in this case and possibly others in the city. Police are looking for any information about this woman,” she said as a picture obviously taken with a high-powered lens flashed on the screen. “If you have any information, please contact the police at the number on the bottom of your screen.”

  I could hear Jenkins saying something over the phone, but none of us paid him any attention. We were all too glued to the black-and-white image of me on the TV.

  “Phira—is that you?” Nico asked, stepping closer to the screen. But he really didn’t need to; it was pretty obvious that it was. The picture had been taken outside the fight club the night Ward had died and we’d shut it down—the night I’d seen PI Danny Bowers driving away from the crime scene. Then another popped up, taken outside Alejandro’s apartment building the night Muses and I had paid the former alpha a little visit—and left him dead. Apparently, Bowers had been there that night, too.

  “Holy shit,” Cy exhaled, turning to look at me, eyes wide with ‘what-the-fuck-do-we-do-now’?

  I stared at the TV in abject horror. “I think we’re officially out of time for TS to fix this.”

  Chapter Nine

  A cacophony of voices erupted around me, each growing in volume until the reality of what was happening finally sank in and I snapped. I let loose a scream that shut them up in a flash. The downside was that I had their full, unwanted attention as a result.

  “I need to think,” I said, grabbing my head as I paced the room. I hung up on Jenkins, cutting off his myriad questions.

  “Do you know what the fuck that was?” Nico asked, tight on my heels.

  “It’s from outside the fight club.” My answer came a little too quickly, and I backpedaled in a hurry. “I recognized my outfit and the building in the background.”

  “What the fuck has that got to do with you being wanted in regards to the girl tonight?”

  “A wonderful question,” Muses added. “One with a curious answer, no doubt.”

  “Am I supposed to know?” I asked, wheeling on them both.

  The way Muses eyed me said I definitely was and needed to spill the answer ASAP. How I could do that without signing Bowers’ death warrant was beyond me. I might not have liked the prick, but I didn’t want him dead just because he was too human to understand the depth of the shit he was wading in. Was his ignorance reason enough for him to be silenced in the most eternal way? Yeah…I wasn’t so sure.

  I needed time to figure something out.

  “Phira!” Nico called for at least the second time, judging by the anger cutting harsh lines through his expression.

  “What?”

  He started barking questions at me, but I couldn’t focus. I was way too fixated on the ghost lingering behind him, flailing at me in a panic. Reah had never looked so riled up. I pushed past my brother, ignoring his interrogation to get to her.

  “What is it?” I asked. The others, realizing what I was doing, shut up and listened.

  Reah gestured to the door that led to the upstairs bedrooms, then disappeared.

  “I have to go,” I said, heading that way, my pace ever-quickening. “Reah has something to tell me.”

  “We’re coming too—”

  “No!” I yelled at my brother. “You know she doesn’t trust you guys—she won’t tell me anything if you’re there. Just stay put, talk amongst yourselves, and figure out a plan because, all joking aside, TS sure as fuck isn’t going to be able to fix this.”

  Just as those words left my mouth, the man in question strolled into the warehouse. One look at all of us and he knew something was up. My heart seized in my chest when his eyes met mine from across the room. That warm shade of hazel nearly undid me every time I looked at them, but Muses’ warning niggled at the back of my mind, and I did what I’d done since the night he’d told me that TS and I were doomed (at least when I was sober enough to remember): I avoided him.

  I pushed through the door and ran upstairs to my bedroom, where I found Reah waiting, hovering near the Ouija board on my floor.

  “You’re worried about something,” I said.

  She answered YES even though it wasn’t really a question.

  “About me?”

  YES

  “Because of the pictures?“ Something about her unease made me suspicious.

  YES

  “Do you know why he did it?”

  A look of frustration overtook her expression as she bit her bottom lip.

  NO

  “Do you know Danny Bowers?”

  YES

  Once I got over my initial shock, I wondered if maybe he had something to do with why she’d stayed behind after I solved her murder. Why she’d looked so distressed that night. She sure as hell hadn’t crossed over.

  Maybe Reah had unresolved issues with Bowers, too.

  “Can you tell me—”

  A knock on my door startled us both. Reah disappeared into the ether as TS stepped in.

  “They filled me in about what happened,” he said, hovering in the doorway—or blocking my escape. Whichever.

  “I’m sure they did,” I replied, avoiding eye contact. “Did they leave out the part where I was trying to learn something from Reah and needed to be alone?”

&n
bsp; When he didn’t answer, I turned to find his eyes narrowed, assessing me in a way he hadn’t for a long time.

  “Phira, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” I said on an exhale. “It’s just been a long fucking night.”

  “Is that it?” he asked, walking into my room uninvited. “I feel like something else is wrong. You’ve been acting…strange.”

  “TS, I see dead people and talk to them through a board game, so yeah, I’ve been acting strange. I think strange is my new normal.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said, coming closer. When I moved to pass him, he caught my arm and gently turned me to face him. “I mean this—this distance between us. Don’t think I haven’t noticed it, Phira.”

  “We weren’t so distant on the couch last night,” I countered, trying to keep my cheeks from flushing at the thought.

  “Only because alcohol and exhaustion won out.” I didn’t have a response for that, so I just stared at him instead. “Have I done something to offend you?”

  “No,” I said, forcing a smile. I thought I sold it pretty well, but it seemed TS was having none of it.

  “Is this about what happened at Alejandro’s party? You know I never meant to hurt you—”

  “It’s not that,” I said, trying not to think about how he’d pinned me up against the marble wall in the penthouse bathroom and had his way with me, only to drop me cold minutes later. Even though I’d realized that he’d done it to save me from an unenviable fate, it still hurt to remember the rise and fall of emotions I’d gone through within a matter of seconds; and how much I wanted him to do it again—minus the nasty aftermath part.

  That, I could do without.

  “Then talk to me,” he said, his voice so desperate that my heart began to ache. Because I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to tell him everything I’d realized—that I loved him. That I always had. That I thought maybe he loved me, too.

  Then Muses’ fucking warning wandered in and shut that idea down in a hot hurry.

  “I’m just worried about Jenks,” I said, hoping the change of subject might be helpful. The darkness that flashed through TS’ eyes made me wonder if I’d failed miserably.

  “I can see that.” His hand dropped away from my arm slowly. I’d never felt such cold in my life. “But I’m worried about you.”

  I tried to hide the hurt coursing through me. “I know you are, but I’m not sure how to fix this one, TS.”

  “Nor am I,” he said, eyes softening slightly. “I can’t do what I did for Little Church again. That amount of magic—it’s just not feasible.”

  “It shouldn’t require that,” I said. “I just need to get a handle on something first to see if that helps.”

  “Something like what?”

  Aw shit.

  “I could call the dead girl’s ghost to me—maybe she knows something. Saw something that could be helpful.” My words didn’t seem to assuage his suspicion much. “If I’m being set up, which it kinda feels like, then maybe that person is somehow related to the one who killed her? It’s hardly a flawless plan, but it’s better than you trying to voodoo all of the greater Chicago area who watches the six o’clock news, right?”

  Judging by the tight set of his features, he was far from convinced.

  “You’re keeping something from me, Phira. I can feel it—”

  “You’re not an empath—”

  “—and I want to know what it is—why you think you can’t trust me with it.”

  “I know I can trust you with anything, TS. I do. But this mess—it’s partly my doing, I think. I need a chance to undo it before I involve you guys. I can’t have it on my conscience if I don’t try it my way first, okay?”

  He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until the air in the room seemed to disappear and I started to feel lightheaded.

  “How long do you need?”

  “A day—maybe two.”

  His lips pressed to a thin line. “And you’ll tell me then if you cannot sort it out on your own?”

  “Can you keep the information to yourself if I do?”

  “Phira, that is a lot to ask of me when I don’t know the context or the ramifications of keeping the information a secret.”

  I let out a heavy breath, doing my best to maintain eye contact. It was hard being so close to him—my mind wandered to places my hands threatened to follow. I stuck them in my pockets for safekeeping.

  “If I don’t have this sorted out in two days, I will tell you what’s going on despite your inability to promise to keep it to yourself. Okay?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded. “For now, I’m going to go to the police station and see what I can do to alter this situation without drawing too much attention.”

  “And I’m going to try to summon the ghost.”

  “Have you learned how to do this successfully every time?” he asked, curiosity in his tone.

  “No,” I replied, thinking my tiredness was certain to get me caught in one of my lies any minute. I couldn’t exactly tell him that I planned to go ask Damascus about how to do that. He and the troll had a past that had clearly hurt TS, given the ultimatum he’d given me about seeing him again. It was TS or Damascus—I couldn’t have both. So I did what any desperate person about to get caught in a lie did: I lied even more. “But I think maybe Reah can help with that…once you leave.”

  He looked past me at the Ouija board, then back again. “Your brothers have gone to see Jenkins. Your uncles are out following up with the wolves. If you need anything, call me. Otherwise, I’ll be back soon.”

  “Okay. I’ll stay here and work on this, then.”

  “Whatever you do, Sapphira, don’t leave the warehouse. Half of Chicago will be looking for you after that newscast. It’s not safe for you to be out wandering around in public.”

  “I know,” I said, guilt settling in my stomach like a brick. “Hopefully this will be fixed in no time, and I won’t have to hide out here.”

  I forced a smile that earned me a weak one in response.

  “Are you sure nothing else is bothering you?” he asked, lingering as though he didn’t want to leave.

  “I mean…the kid at the bar keeps staring at my tits when he talks to me, and I’m afraid I’m going to punch him in the face pretty soon if he doesn’t knock it off.”

  TS’ smile grew to a grin. “There’s the Phira I know. I’ve missed her...”

  “Yeah,” I said, shying away from his gaze. “She’s pretty fucking fantastic.”

  Silence.

  “That she is.”

  He walked out of my room before the weight of his reply truly hit me—as well as the weight of my actions. If I continued to dig a hole deeper and deeper, filled with the lies I told, I’d soon be buried alive. The upside? I wouldn’t have to worry about whatever my father had done to doom my relationship with TS.

  The downside? I’d have doomed it myself.

  Chapter Ten

  Once the coast was clear, I sneaked out of the warehouse, fully equipped with a hoodie and sunglasses to disguise myself. With my mess of black curls tied back and hidden under the hood, I didn’t think I’d be overly conspicuous. The newscast hadn’t shown a perfect face shot of me, so I wasn’t too worried about it; at least not until I got on the bus and felt the weight of invisible stares all over me. Imaginary or not, I started to grow anxious. When I reached my destination, I nearly dove off the bus and ran toward the old train yard.

  I hopped the fence and continued until I hit the stairs. Damascus, as expected, was waiting for me, his expression grim.

  “I need to know if you can help me with something,” I said, daring to step onto the first riser. “I need to call a specific ghost to me—the one of someone I saw a few hours ago.”

  “The dead girl found by the lone wolf’s establishment.”

  “I guess good news really does travel fast.”

  “Am I to assume that you were not a part of her death as the news
implied?”

  “Wait, you watch the news—”

  His sharp gaze shut me up. He turned and walked into the old train station (that had no visible TV) and took a seat at the table. I quickly followed suit.

  “Have you tried the board?” he asked. I stared in silence. “Have you been practicing like I instructed?”

  Well…

  “Things have been a little crazy—”

  “If you do not hone your skills, I cannot help you.”

  “I know, I know! And I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to be a dick about this, I just—I’m trying to save a life by learning who killed that girl.”

  “You do not wish to expose him.”

  The nonchalant way he threw that out took me off guard. I floundered for a moment, trying to find the right words. Watching the news on a nonexistent TV was one thing, but how in the hell did he know what I was worried about? That was another issue altogether.

  “Him?”

  “I have seen the one who stalks you, Daughter of the PC. And I wonder, why hasn’t Death dealt with him? She above all should understand the risk he poses to both you and the balance.”

  Gabe… He was talking about Gabe, a problem I’d almost allowed myself to forget in the wake of recent events.

  Because Death has been kept from doing the deed…

  “She says she has her reasons. Anyway, I just wanted to see if you could help me with the girl’s ghost. If not, it’s cool.” He stared at me in silence, and I took that as my cue. “Okay, yeah. I’ll just see myself out.”

  I headed for the door, frustration fueling my exit. But Damascus wasn’t really the source of it—I was. My unwillingness to tie up loose ends like Gabe and Danny Bowers was going to cause problems not only for me, but for my entire family, and potentially Jenkins as well. My uncles had implied that the supernatural community in Chicago had been stressed before Alejandro’s death. Killing him had done nothing to help that situation. Now, with the packs gunning for Jenkins and me being framed for murders I didn’t commit, that poor decision was biting me in the ass.

  “It is not that I am unwilling to help you,” Damascus said, halting me at the door. “It is that I am unable—in this instance.”