Charles nodded. "When we fought it, it wasn't in that form." He'd had time to think about it. Charles knew what he'd touched and it had been vaguely human shaped with legs like the hind legs of a moose. "But it ran up the stairs and turned into a stag - just as its invisibility ran out."
"It didn't run out," Beauclaire said. "He dropped the glamour on purpose. Why didn't you follow it?"
"I wasn't in any shape to take it on by myself," said Charles, gesturing around to the fallen. "Even with allies, we might not have been able to defeat it had it not decided to run. And I wasn't going to leave you injured and vulnerable."
Anna snorted. She knew him, knew who he wouldn't leave vulnerable.
Beauclaire bowed his head and smiled. "I should have known that Bran's son would be too hardheaded to be led by his nose by any magic - even by the white stag. Had you chased it, you would have continued, never stopping, never catching up until your legs were but bloody stumps or you died."
Charles looked at him. "Thanks for the warning."
Beauclaire laughed. "Bran's son, no one can guard against the white stag - and knowing what he is and hunting him anyway is very dangerous. Even more dangerous than hunting in ignorance. If the white stag walked past me two weeks ago, I would not have been compelled to go after him. But if I had seen him tonight, after hunting him since he stole my daughter away - I would have followed him, power that I am, until one of us was dead."
"I thought fae were immortal," said Charles. "At least those who can refer to themselves as 'power that I am.'"
Beauclaire started to say something, but broke off as Charles held up a hand.
There was a scuffing sound above them. Someone was upstairs.
"Isaac?" It was Malcolm.
"We're down here," called Charles, relaxing, though Brother Wolf was upset with them. They were supposed to stay safe where he had left them.
Malcolm, the witch, and the FBI came charging to the rescue, bringing more noise and chaos with them than four people should have been able to manage. Goldstein and Leslie Fisher took over, and Charles, tired, aching in every bone of his body, let them.
Leslie stripped out of her knee-length waterproof jacket and helped Beauclaire wrap it around his daughter. The witch dug through her satchel and muttered unpleasant things. Finally she found a Baggie of salt, made them take the coat and Beauclaire's shirt back off the girl, and dusted Lizzie from head to toe in salt.
Brutal but effective. The black magic dissipated - but the salt burned in her open wounds. She cried, but seemed to be too deeply under the influence of whatever her kidnappers had fed her to make too much noise. Charles smelled ketamine and something else.
"We could have thrown her in the ocean and fished her back out," Hally told them. "But the cold wouldn't have done her any good. Better leave the salt on. A half hour should be long enough, but longer won't hurt. It'll also stave off infection."
They bundled Lizzie back up and Charles picked her up, to her evident distress, even with whatever drugs they'd given her in her system. She hadn't been in their hands long - a little more than a full day - but she'd been tortured and who knew what else. Males were not anything she wanted to deal with.
But Anna couldn't change back, and Leslie, though in good shape, was human, and not capable of carrying Lizzie all the way back to the boat.
Charles tried singing to her, the same song her father had been singing. Beauclaire - and Malcolm - joined in, and the music seemed to help.
Goldstein had used a stick and a strip off the bottom of his cotton dress shirt to splint Beauclaire's wrist. And when they started up the stairs, he wedged a shoulder under the fae's arm and helped steady him, having evidently decided Beauclaire would be his personal responsibility. Beauclaire shot Charles the ghost of an amused look, and let himself be helped - possibly a little more than he really needed.
Isaac was obviously in pain, panting with stress, but he got to his feet and followed, Malcolm walking steadily beside him. Charles kept a close eye on them for a while - wolves could be a