Witches, Voids, and Other Sanity Suckers
Chapter 11

As soon as he leadshis sweaty band of joggers onto the lawn, Ike zeroes in on Az. Seated on theporch with Greta, I don't feel the slightest inclination to intercede. In fact,I'm looking forward to the show. It's time for someone else to be the bad guyfor a change.

Ike's anger has thepotential to set off the others. He outranks everyone except for Greta and me.Uriah and Quinn, two coyotes still in high school, are particularly susceptibleto outside influence. Neither has attacked a human, and I'd hate for Az to betheir first. The guilt would crush them.

Jose and Hank herdthe others toward the house. Good. Greta gives Hank an encouraging nod. She'sbeen teaching him to be more assertive. As one of only two feline Shifters inthe area, he tends to fade into the background. He has beta potential. He justneeds to learn to use it.

"I never tookyou for a walking stereotype, blondie," Ike rages as he stalks across thedamp grass. He corners Az against a tall pine tree. His finger thumps againsther head so hard that just watching it makes my head hurt. "Do youeven have a brain in this thick skull of yours?"

Az flinches butdoesn’t fully submit to Ike’s fury. Stupid girl. "I had to tell Ricksomething."

"Was it a matterof life or death?"

She chews on herbottom lip and flutters her eyelashes. "I suppose, if you think about it,in the grand scheme of things everything is life or death."

Next to me, Gretawinces. Az is digging a hole so deep she'll need a ladder to get out of. Gretadoesn't look like she's going to help, though. She understands the need for Iketo handle this on his own.

"This isn't aphilosophy debate, darlin'. I asked you a damn question, and now I expect adamn answer."

Ooh. There's thatSouthern drawl good ol' boy Ike tries to hide from his fancy architect friends.Not a good sign. Greta starts to rise. My heavy hand on her knee forces her tostay seated. Well-defined boundaries are part of what keeps this unconventionalpack together. Some lessons have to be learned the hard way. Besides, I trustIke not to kill Az.

"Probably not,”she murmurs, chin dropping. “I guess.”

Ike growls, tears astrip of bark off the tree. I admire his restraint. I'd have been tempted totear a strip off her hide. If he does kill her, I'll volunteer to be a defensewitness. He hunches down, leaning in until they are nose to nose. From theporch, I can see a hint of fang. Az pales.

"When you'rewith me, you are under my protection. That means you are my responsibility. Itake my responsibilities very seriously, darlin'. You don't step one toeout of my line of sight without my permission. I don't give a rat's ass if youthink the damn apocalypse is fixing to rain down on us. You don't move withoutmy say-so. If you ever pull a disappearing act like this again, I promise thatyou won't like the consequences."

Lips pressed togetherand eyes on scruffy Ike's chin, Az nods emphatically. Smartest thing she's doneall morning. Ike stares at her for a moment before letting go of his anger.I'll never understand how he does it. I like to hold on to my anger for alittle while – to simmer. For him, it's easy as flipping a switch.

"Good." Hekisses her forehead and tugs on the end of her ponytail. Big brother personafirmly back in place. "Now we'd better scoot if we want to get a showerbefore Tommy. He's a serial hot water hog."

Az blinks at him asif he's the one with a few loose screws. "That's it?"

He shrugs, rakes ahand through his sweaty hair. "I gave you a serious ass chewing, and youagreed to not be so stupid ever again. That's it." When Az doesn'tspeak, Ike's face scrunches up as he considers her reaction. "Do you feellike you need me to ground you or something?"

And that's my cue tointervene. I know what Az is expecting and why she's expecting it. Having itspelled out to him will either depress or anger Ike. Neither option isparticularly pleasant. Greta's already growling, and she’s coiled tighter thana spring.

"Take a shower.Take Ike with you," I instruct her. "I'll deal with Princess."

"She wants Iketo-," Greta breaks off on a hiss. "He would never."

"I know that.She doesn't really want it. She just thinks it's the next logical step. It'sall she's been taught." She expects it for the same reasons my mom didn'tfeel a relationship was working unless she was getting slapped around.

Greta's gruff andplays up the bad-girl rebel attitude, but she grew up in suburbia with thewhite picket fence and the relatively normal nuclear family. There are somethings she doesn't truly understand - things I'm glad she doesn't trulyunderstand.

Greta storms acrossthe yard. She ignores Az, grabs Ike's hand, and drags her mate toward thehouse. The door slams behind her. Great. Hopefully Ike can work his magic –which I don't want to think about since I share a bathroom with them – and calmher down before breakfast. It's her morning to cook. I hate burnt eggs.

"Az." Atthe sound of her name, her head snaps around to the porch. "Comehere."

"Greta's mad atme," she announces, voice tinged with bewilderment, as she flops onto theporch next to me. She leans against one of the posts and swings her legs upinto my lap. "Man, my calves hurt. This running thing sucks."

"You spent mostof the run hanging from my back like a monkey

"You made mesprint that last mile. It sucked."

"Anyone evertell you that you're a whiner?"

"Yes." Shetilts her head back and closes her eyes. I can see the faint yellowing from thebruises her father left. It's easy to understand Greta's fury. "So whatdid I do to piss off Momma Fox? I didn't lick Ike."

Somehow I don't thinkthat just telling her is going to do the trick. Nor do I think I can undo alifetime of conditioning and misery in one morning. "Tell me about the daybefore your father brought you to Houston."

"Mom and Dadwere having a dinner party. The Mage of Richmond was there. I wanted to ask himabout the theory of knowledge transference through the Rite of Elsalt. He wrotea thesis on it twenty years ago. It's brilliant. Genius stuff. Dad wanted me tostay in my room. I snuck downstairs during dessert. Dad caught me before I madeit to the hallway."

"It's safe toassume he didn't reward you with a slice of chocolate cake, right?"

Her hand goes to herthroat. "No. He was really mad."

So mad he tried tochoke her to death. All because she wanted to ask a question about magictheory. "How did you get the pink cast?"

Az's hand drops toher left arm. It's still pale, but not as sickly looking as before. "Itook a flashlight from Sister Lavina's room."

"Stealing iswrong." I feel like a tool for having to say it, but I'm not entirely sureshe gets the finer points of human decency. It's not like she's had the bestrole models.

"Of course itis." She shrugs. "The bulb was out in my room, and I'm not a bat.Sister Lavina wouldn't have even noticed, but I got caught reading aftercurfew. Sister Isolde is a tattle."

"Stealing andbreaking curfew are offenses we take seriously here."

She tightens hergrasp on her recently healed arm. Terror flashes across her face. "Rules. Okay.I'll remember that."

"That was themaddest I've seen Ike since Jose accidentally set the grill on fire. You brokeone of his top five personal rules. It's one that's pretty damn high on mylist, too."

Az goes completelystill. I can practically see the pulse pounding in the base of her throat. Fearand panic waft off her slight frame. I don't particularly care for either aromawhen they originate from a pack mate. From her, they are downright nauseating.

"I'm very, verysorry," she murmurs softly but sincerely. She bites down on her bloodlessbottom lip before holding out her left arm. Her fingers tremble."Here."

Jesus. I swallow a growl. It's a damn goodthing she didn't make this offer to Ike. He's far more sensitive than I am, andI'm having a damn difficult time suppressing the desire to let the wolf looseon everyone who taught her to expect pain as punishment. Had she been here,Greta would have already started out on the warpath.

"I'm not goingto break your fucking arm." It's not Az's fault, I know that, butit doesn't stop me from snapping at her. We should all be lucky I haven't Shiftedyet.

She retracts the arm.Swallows. Leans forward with her neck extended.

"Fucking hell!I'm not going to strangle you!"

"Oh. Do you wantto overload me with magic? That usually works, too." At my growl, shegingerly settles back against the post. "I don't understand."

Which is pretty muchwhat I figured she was going to say. "There are consequences for breaking packrules, but those consequences don't include beatings, broken limbs, corporalpunishment, or attempted homicide. There will be some yelling and lecturing.Depending upon the infraction, there may be restitution or extra chores."

"So Ike yelledat me and now we're done?"

"Yes. He mighttether you to him for the next few mornings, or I might insist you run with me,but that's it. No broken arms. No bruises. No turning you into a loon."

"Are yousure?"

Okay. So trust is oneof the many, many things we're going to have to continue to work on. Myword is law, but the only reason the pack accepts that is because I've neverbroken a promise or double-crossed them. She's new. She gets a pass. For now.

"Yes." Andbecause she has to feel safe if she's ever going to be comfortable with us, Ihave to make something very clear. "If anyone, pack or not, ever threatensor tries to hurt you, you have to tell me about it. Immediately."

"Yes, sir. SoGreta's mad because I thought Ike was going to punish me?"

"What they didto you – those Sisters of Sadism or whatever they were – wasn't right. What yourfather did you wasn't right. People aren't like that. My people aren'tlike that."

She smiles like she'sjust discovered the secret formula for turning asparagus into chocolate."And assuming that they are like that offends them. I got it." Hersmile dips a notch. "I should probably apologize to Greta and Ike."

"You shouldprobably keep your mouth shut so everyone can move past this completelycraptastic morning."

"Okay," shechirps. She's as mercurial as Ike. Great. Two of them. Just what I need."Think you can do the right one, now?"

"The rightwhat?"

"Calf." Shejiggles her left leg for emphasis.

I glance down. Sureas shit, I've been massaging her left calf for who knows how long. Rather thangive in to her request, I shove both legs off my lap. She pouts but doesn'tpress the issue.

"How muchmagical protection can I feasibly give my pack when they are away from thehouse?"

Two minutes into herresponse, I realize my mistake: I should have been more specific. There's noneed for protection against gnomes or leprechauns or fairies. I'm pretty surethere hasn't been a Ruthgar infestation in North America since the 1800s. Whenshe pauses to take a breath, I slap a hand across her mouth.

"Practicalprotection, Princess, against things like magical trackers, hexes/curses, andmemory spells."

I remove my hand. Shetakes off like a chipmunk on crack. I honestly had no idea there were so manyprotection amulets available. This isn't going to work. I don't know enoughabout magic to make an informed decision about which amulets my people shouldwear. Normally I would consult Sally, but she's no longer a reliable source ofmagical information.

Trust is a two-waystreet. I've been preaching it to Az; it's time for a little less talking and alittle more doing. "This your pack, too. This is your family you have toprotect. What five amulets would you suggest they wear for maximumprotection?"

I can only hope thatshe understands the true meaning of family - pack family and not theback-stabbing witch and Mage family she grew up in. She starts to answer. Ipress a finger across her open mouth. No thank you. My head already hurts. Idon't need additional magical knowledge killing valuable brain cells.

"Write themdown. Make a shopping list. Jose and I will pick up the supplies today, andthen you'll give him instructions on how to make them."

"What are yourthoughts on tattoos? The Writ of Angalis would be awesome against mind control,but it has to be inked onto the skin for maximum protection." She liftsthe hem of her yoga pants to her knee. Two lines of gray text appear just belowher knee cap. "Short and sweet."

"I'll discuss itwith the others." Oscar has a fear of needles, but I'm sure we could workaround it. Or knock him out. As long as she isn't going to suggest we tattoothe writ with blood or other bodily fluids.

"I'll put it onmy list."

She pops to her feet.I rise at a much slower pace. She may have aching calves, but she's not the onewho carried a giggly, bouncy void for six miles. Hopefully Tommy's left enoughhot water for me to work the kinks out of my back.

"Az," Icall before she can reach the back door. She stops and turns but doesn't returnto my side. Good. We need a little distance. There's still a river of rage Ineed to deal with, and I don't want to scare her with it. Maybe I'll take atrip to the punching bag in the garage before I shower.

She arches an eyebrowwhen I take too long to pose my question. Impatient void.

"How can you beso calm about your past?" I ask.

She squirms. For amoment I think she's going to blow me off, but then she meets my gaze. Her eyesare older, dimmer, than usual. "There are many things that could drive mecrazy: being a greeter at a witches' convention, riding a dragon bareback,manning the kissing booth at a leprechaun fair, or spending a little too muchtime in a magic store. I can't let my past be one of those things. If I have tochoose between letting it go or clinging to the anger, I'm going to let it go.I have to. It's the only way I'll keep from curling up and offing myself."

"Forgive andforget." It's a nice motto. In theory. For some people.

"I'll forget,Ricky," she says, a cruel smile lifting her lips. The expression on herface wouldn't be out of place on a hunting Shifter. "I never said I'dforgive."