Masked By Danger by Christa Wick

Chapter Twenty

"Didyou notice how the cubs were holding hands when we entered the room?" Cade asked as the adults regrouped after Denver finished comforting Oscar.

"They hold hands like that a lot," Esme answered. "We figured they were all bonding so very closely because they sensed how much their circumstances were alike."

Magic leaked from the witch, her tears tinged blue after she had verified Iris's findings on Adam and Micah once she knew what to search for. A nervous energy vibrated in the air around her, humming soft but deadly in its intensity.

"I think I know," Cade said. His chest tightened, cutting off the air he needed to explain. Meeting Denver's hard stare, he saw understanding slowly dawn in the other man's gaze.

"It's a signal boost," Denver answered, all the blood draining from his face so that the topaz eyes burned against his pale skin like the sun at high noon. "They could use it to find the clan. Whatever the purpose of the crystals, it's why the cubs are still safe when we find them and why the Hunters have never ambushed us while we retrieved the boys. They want them with us and watch over them until we arrive and take the boys away."

Iris sagged against Cade. Feeling his arm circle her shoulders and the soft nuzzle of his wolf, she closed her eyes and pressed her face against his neck.

"Can we take the crystals out?" Denver asked.

Everyone looked at Esme for the answer. Aware of the attention focused on her, she stared at the ground and slowly shook her head.

"I don't think so," she went on after a long moment. "Especially in the cubs who haven't shifted yet—their healing isn't as accelerated. We need more healers than we have and we could paralyze them. Hit the wrong spot on their spinal cord and their body will shut down."

Her hands twisted against one another, magic sparking from the tips.

"And that is without addressing what protective spells Quentin has placed on the crystals. If he sacrificed pure magic to place the crystals and keep them undetected, it may take an equal sacrifice to get them out."

Esme stopped talking, her lips remaining slightly parted as she took shallow breaths and her skin turned milky white.

"Baby..." Denver cradled his mate's face, his lips lightly dusting one cheek before he forced her gaze up to meet his. "I need you to hold it together, love. You have to feel a little less. Can you do that? For Oscar and all the other boys?"

He kissed her lips, kissed her tears. She nodded but her expression remained unconvinced.

"We have to disperse the cubs," Denver said, still holding Esme but directing his words at Cade. "Off clan lands, no cubs together, and with as many wolves and charms protecting each boy as we can spare."

Standing, Cade pulled his cell phone out. "I'll call Oram and get the West Virginia wolves mobilized."

Pausing, he looked at Iris, his gaze asking permission to leave her alone for a few minutes or longer despite the grief visible on her face.

She nodded. "I'll stay with Esme while you and Denver make your calls."

Slower to leave his mate, Denver stood, his hands lingering around Esme's tear-stained face.

"I'm okay," the witch sniffed. She pointed her chin in Iris's direction. "We can try to come up with some solutions while you're on the phone with the other clan leaders."

She drew a breath in, her hesitation stalling Denver a few more seconds before she added, "I need to discuss this with the rest of the Witches' Council."

Iris watched as Denver's expression slowly changed from tender to something only slightly less pliant than steel. "After I've talked to the other clan leaders."

Esme offered a small blink of acquiescence, the downward curve of her mouth indicating that she would only keep the information from the Council for a short time.

Satisfied, Denver followed Cade from the room. Esme immediately moved from the couch to sit by Iris. She wrapped her fingers around those of the she-wolf and gazed into Iris's eyes.

"I need you to do something for me before they get back."

Iris swallowed a small lump in her throat, relatively certain what Esme wanted her to do. "Check for crystals?"

"Yes," Esme agreed with a whisper. Releasing her grip on Iris, she turned and presented her back to the she-wolf. "I'm assuming I don't reek, but if the crystals have been with me since childhood..."

"Right. It could be because you're not a wolf. Or the odor could fade with time, with your mother spelling you while the scent would have been detectible. It could also be a matter of intent in the placement."

"To include whether any of the crystals have wards carved in them," Esme agreed. "Were you able to see the crystals clearly enough in Oscar's memory?"

"No," Iris answered as she ran her hands down Esme's spine, starting high and working toward the waist. Reaching the middle, she hesitated.

"Anything?"

Iris felt the quiver in Esme's voice stab at her own chest. The witch was afraid of being betrayed by her own body—a feeling Iris knew all too well. For Esme, it was a new fear, its grip tighter than any vise because of the novelty.

"Not on your spine," Iris answered. Her hands spread farther apart, encompassing the witch's broad hips for a moment before she leaned closer and placed her palms against Esme's lower stomach.

"No," Esme said, her voice so soft that only Iris's wolf could make sense of the sound. "Not there—"

"I'm sorry, sweetie." Iris choked the words out. "I wish—"

Esme shook her head, the thick wavy strands bouncing violently. She placed her hands over Iris's, her energy seeking out the objects the she-wolf had detected. "Why would they do that?"

"Maybe because you're the most powerful witch—"

Another hard shake, blonde curls flying in every direction. "Not anymore. You are, at least once you're properly trained."

Moving down the couch, Esme wiped at her tears and drew a ragged breath in. "I have to get this under control, I can't have Denver distracted by my feelings."

Iris closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around Esme. "He's your mate," she whispered in the witch's ear. "You're never going to be able to hide your feelings from him. And you shouldn't try. He loves you on a deeply crazy level..."

A small hiccup interrupted the smile forming on Esme's lips. She gave another sniff and nodded before peeking at Iris from beneath lashes still wet with tears.

"Just like Cade is crazy about you."

Iris held her hand up, the fingers splayed for emphasis.

"Slow down, witch," she said with a lighthearted tenderness that stretched Esme's smile a little wider. "Maybe when we have a handle on this cub situation—"

"Nuh-uh." Capturing Iris's hand, Esme wove her fingers through the she-wolf's and softly tugged. "Mates draw strength from one another. We're stronger together. That's one thing I don't think the Hunters have counted on because they turn on each other at the first sign of danger. And with all the latents we've discovered, there are more mates now than..."

Esme tightened her grip on Iris. The witch's lips and brows moved as if she hadn't stopped talking. Her head tilted to the side, and then she gave it a slight shake before her brows knitted.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Iris asked. "Because it appears to be really entertaining and I could use a laugh right about now."

Esme chewed at her bottom lip a few more seconds before she nodded. "We need to check some of the other latents to make sure they aren't carrying any crystals, but I don't think they will be. They don't come to us at all like the cubs. They remember their families and childhood."

"Okay, I agree we need to check them, but what..." Iris stopped and twirled a few circles with one finger in front of Esme's face. "Was that all about?"

"Maybe nothing," Esme admitted. "But I feel like it's really important the Hunters haven't picked up on how much strength we gain every time we find another latent. Both from having mated pairs and the extra magic the women bring. Lana took straight to casting and healing and so have some of the others. A few even worked carnivals as psychics."

Releasing her hold on Iris, the witch stood and stared at the door through which Denver and Cade had left. Her hands found her ample hips and her right foot stamped the ground once as she blew a hot puff of air.

"I really need to convene the Witches' Council."

"We need a little more time," Iris said, patting the cushion next to her to draw Esme back to the couch.

"We?" Esme asked, one dark blond brow arching toward the ceiling.

"You and me," Iris snorted. "Not the clan, if you thought that's what I meant. I know wolves have a hard time trusting anyone who can wield magic, more so now that we've learned that Hunters have been using it against us."

"Okay." Esme plopped down next to Iris. "Why do 'we' need more time before I talk to the Witches' Council?"

"For starters, to check a few of the latents, like you suggested." Iris twisted her hands together, the motion audible from how roughly she rubbed. Fighting the urge to light up one of her fingertips with witch light and carve a fresh ward into her skin, she shoved a hand under each armpit.

"Okay," Esme joked, one finger twirling a circle just as Iris had done a few minutes before. "You want to tell me what that's all about? And, for the record, it's not entertaining. I'm stressed as hell!"

Trying to shape an explanation, Iris bounced lightly against the back cushion. "I've been gone twelve years..."

Flooded with the threat of tears, she buried her face in her hands, her elbows propped against the top of her thighs. She felt the soft drape of Esme's arm across her back and then the warm push of the witch's breath against her hair.

She lifted her head for a second, but the room was a blur of tears and she retreated. "I have a few weeks, starting with the attack, that I can barely remember. I would say I can't remember any of it at all, but there are these little flashes, bits and bobs of nightmares that are always the same."

Her hands dropped to her stomach, her arms protectively curling around her flesh. Her chest ached as if a fiery blade had been buried deep inside and still smoldered.

"I've tried to see into your memories," Esme confessed. "But your walls are too thick for a gentle poking around."

Iris turned toward the witch and allowed Esme to wrap her in a gentle embrace. The image of little Oscar in Denver's arms flashed through her head and then she buried her face against Esme's shoulder.

Voice muffled by the witch's flesh, Iris finally found the strength to make the request that had weighed on her mind since she interviewed the cubs.

"I need you to poke harder, to find out exactly what happened the day I left the clan and those few weeks after," she whispered as Esme soothingly stroked her hair and cooed comforting words of nonsense.

With her body knotting even tighter, she pushed the last words out, uncertain which way they would fall until they passed her lips.

"And I want Cade there when you do it."