Wolves at the Door - Lidiya Foxglove Page 0,65
someone called the house and hung up, since we knew you were on your way. Hurry! Go! I’ll hold them off.”
Can you manage alone? I wanted to say. I got the feeling the four witches had more power than Billie. The slightly built redhead looked very small standing against them.
“Who’s this little witch? She’s not a Hapsburg or a Nicolescu…”
“I think that’s Billie Pruitt. Mae Pruitt’s girl. At least, she looks just like her.”
“Ohhh. That explains it all, doesn’t it?”
They shot a spell at her and Billie hastily summoned a wall of defense.
I needed to get the others out here to help her. I ran, pausing over Gaston as he was getting to his feet. I pointed toward Billie. I hoped he would be helpful. No one had mentioned this guy to me and he looked like maybe they’d hired him to be a landscaper, judging by the grass stains all over his clothes.
He jabbed his finger at the house. “Go, go! Tell your witch that these assholes are here.” He went to go assist Billie. Hopefully they could handle it, but I wasn’t so sure. As I was running, I heard Billie let out a scream that faded into a whimper, but I didn’t dare to look back.
Time in the gym is never wasted, I thought, as my legs pumped. My barely mended body was crying for a rest, but I ignored it. Since I worked out regularly, I was good at pushing through discomfort.
As the line of trees ended, Greenwood Manor came into full view—and the witches were driving in behind me.
That quickly, Billie failed to stop them.
This was heading for disaster.
I pushed myself even harder, just when I thought I had nothing left, my leg muscles on fire as I shot up the stairs and pushed through the double doors, where I heard the ordinary sounds of scraping and a few bangs and clinks. Jasper, Jake and Helena had the future kitchen stripped down and now they were just starting to put it back together, putting down flooring with a pale wood look. But Hel, a tool belt slung sexily low around her tight jeans, immediately stood up when she saw me.
“Graham! Ohmigod! What happened? Where’s Billie?”
I tapped my throat. Can’t speak. I pointed behind me.
I heard car doors slamming shut outside.
“Oh! Oh—la voix!”
I swear I felt my voice pop back into my throat like snapping in a Lego. “Witches are here. Four of them. Dangerous. Billie and, uh, Gaston, I think they might be hurt.”
“They’re hurt? Badly?”
“I don’t really know how bad it is, but I heard Billie go down. She screamed.”
“Let’s take the fight outside,” Jake said. “I don’t need any witches blasting my flooring.”
Jasper snorted.
“Out the back,” Helena said, patting her hips, making sure she had her wand along with her tools. “I hope Billie’s okay, but…I guess it’s too late to worry about her right now.”
“We all should have gone to check,” Jasper said.
“Should we turn wolf?” Jake said.
“It hardly seems to matter against witches,” Jasper said. “They have all these fancy powers and we have…teeth. We can’t even get close enough to use them.”
Byron appeared in our midst. “You’re right. The Sullivans should hide. I think these are very high ranking witches.”
“I’m not hiding!” Jake said.
“Please!” Helena cried. “You’re not doing me any favors if I have to worry about you while we’re fighting. Maybe I can reason with them or something. Just go in the smokehouse!”
“Graham,” Byron said, “you’re not experienced with an incubus’ powers, but I know how they work best. Put all your focus on shielding Helena. Just imagine yourself impervious. Like your desire for her has turned you into the strongest substance known. Don’t think about anything else. Just be a shield.”
“But what if he gets hurt?” Helena said. “If he gets struck?”
“If he stays focused, he won’t get hurt. I swear it.”
I would have to trust him. I looked at Helena and spread my wings around her as the witches came around the house.
It didn’t look like Billie had so much as scratched them.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Helena
I knew this was coming. But facing the moment was still filling me with dread.
I knew all these bitches.
They were all on the council. And they were all my mom’s friends. I’d seen them drinking tea. I’d seen them running a garden show. I once got in trouble at one of their houses for trying to ride the dog like a pony when I was little.
Now, they were here to force me to