Family Bonds

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Get your ass over here. Murder.

Sean sighed, staring at his phone, as Chip curled into a comfortable position in the passenger seat. Leave it to Dane to be the kind of person who was completely fine going a week or two without contact if he felt like it, then text first when Sean had said he would. His phone had beeped in the middle of the ceremony, although luckily Adonia had ignored it. He let his car warm up as he replied.

On my way. Didn’t screw up, thanks.

Sean glanced back at the witches’ house once before turning the car around. They had all disappeared inside, back to working on their herbal products. He’d been surprised even Uther had been in attendance, but the old Cauldwell apparently took on a sponsor-type role for Sean during the ceremony. Adonia had not disapproved of Chip, even if she didn’t appear to like them much, although it seemed the snake and Hazel got along well enough.

When Sean pulled into the Crypt Coffee lot he glanced at Chip and sighed.

“I guess you’re coming in with me,” he said, and extended a hand for Chip to slide up to rest around his neck again. “Can’t leave you out here in the middle of winter.”

And it wasn’t as though Dane completely banned familiars in his place. Sean had met an ex of Dane’s once who had dragged an entire owl into the coffee shop. Beyond that, Chip fit into the aesthetic, so much so that unfortunately Sean received attention before he’d gotten halfway across the floor.

“Is that yours?” asked Winter, jumping up from where she was wiping down a table. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Chip. “Didn’t think you were the kind of person to have a snake, professor.”

I like her. Introduce me.

“This is Chip, a corn snake.”

“They’re beautiful,” said Winter. “Can I?”

She held out her hand and, after Chip’s approval, Sean agreed she could touch. She’d barely given the snake a stroke before the door to the Lair opened and Dane poked his head out, scowling.

“You brought the snake?”

“I came straight over,” said Sean.

Winter reluctantly moved out of his way for him to cross to Dane. He followed the man downstairs into the Lair, where Ned hovered by one of the weapons walls pretending to be skewered by some kind of large knife. When Ned removed himself and shrugged at Chip, Sean figured they were communicating.

Dane crossed his arms, glaring. He hadn’t much liked when he first realized he was the only one who couldn’t understand Chip, something he’d grumbled about the entire day they were relocating the hodag.

“Someone wanna tell me what the f**k is going on?” he asked, glaring from Ned to Sean.

“I don’t know,” said Sean.

Ned sighed and leaned back in the air.

“I don’t just pop concepts into people’s minds, although I could if you found that more efficient.”

“Last thing I want is you f*****g around in my head,” said Dane.

“Last thing I want is your head f*****g me up,” said Ned. He pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking long. “Yes, it can do that.” Without elaborating, he moved on. “How much do you know about the local werewolf Packs?”

“Nothing,” said Sean. He hadn’t even known there were werewolves in Bleu Falls.

“Packs?” asked Dane. He looked pissed. “More than just Howl Ridge?” He dug around on his desk for his Order-supplied tablet, muttering profanity.

There are currently two Packs nearby, Howl Ridge and Falls Blue. Not small, but slightly under average in size.

“Where?” asked Sean.

“f**k you all, stop leaving me out of s**t,” said Dane. He grabbed up the tablet and turned it on.

“The Howl Ridge Pack is slightly closer to town than the Falls Blue Pack,” said Ned. “Although both are west of Bleu Falls. The dead werewolf is from the Howl Ridge Pack.”

“Name? Pack place?” asked Dane. “Why I should care?”

“Because this has the potential to erupt into something bloody,” said Ned. “And your Order will send more agents if you can’t get it under control, won’t they? I recall how you felt about the last one.”

“I don’t think Dane needs the chance to break any more noses,” said Sean.

“Yeah, but it’s fun to do.”

“Roderick Wolff,” said Ned, then at the look Dane shot him, “Yes, Wolff. You and Sean don’t really have standing to complain about surnames.”

“The Sanders-Sanderson thing is shitty coincidence.”

“Yes, well,” said Ned, c*****g an eyebrow at Dane before continuing. “Roderick Wolff was a leading voice in the Howl Ridge Pack, although unfortunately he was also universally despised. My contact described him as unnecessarily cruel and calculating. Considering tensions between this Pack and the Falls Blue Pack have been escalating recently, anyone could have wanted him dead, including his own son.”

“Okay,” said Sean, hoping even so, there would be something about the situation that would give them something to work with. “How was he killed?”

“He was stripped naked and tied to a tree with a silver-treated rope.”

“s**t, exposure? Nasty way to go,” said Dane. “You lose your mind.”

Sean eyed him, remembering a similar ordeal they’d gone through a few months ago. They’d gotten to a place where they’d barely mentioned it, but Sean knew neither of them were past the trauma of it yet. After having been flooded with enough magical energy to fry their minds, it was still difficult for Dane to handle locating the magic wells he was supposed to be tracking down for the Order, and while Sean’s connection to such forces had helped, discovering he was a witch hadn’t solved everything.

“Whoever did it wouldn’t have had to watch,” said Ned, shrugging. “That’s the benefit of using a Wisconsin winter to do your murder for you.”

“Or it’s possible they didn’t know,” said Sean. “He had a son?”

“Yes, and there’s a little secret surrounding him. Apparently, Markus Wolff had been sneaking off to meet with someone from the Falls Blue Pack. Roderick confronted him about it a few days before the murder and they fought—somewhat violently, my contact said. The Packs have almost no contact with each other, so don’t ask me who he was meeting.”

“Well, s**t,” said Dane. He grabbed a bottle from his shelf and had a drink. “Your contact asked for assistance? Packs hate Decrypters coming into their territory.”

“Surprisingly, yes. I have the impression Elder Tash is concerned the Packs will start killing each other. Werewolves fighting would be bad, and tensions between the Packs were already high.”

“This murder sets them at each other’s throats then, huh,” said Dane. “You said you weren’t welcome when you were doing that astral projection s**t earlier. Last time I waltzed into a Pack uninvited I nearly had my friggin’ trachea ripped out. How’re you going to get us in if they won’t even see you?”

“I’m not,” said Ned, and nodded to Sean. “He is.”

This is where I should warn you your choice in mate will probably get you killed.

Ned’s eyes flicked to Chip and he smiled, just a little, before looking back at Sean.

“Assuming you passed your initiation.”

“Yes, but I don’t see how that helps,” said Sean. “I’m in the Guild as an apprentice, not a full-fledged witch, and I don’t have anything to do with werewolves.”

“But you’re not in the Order,” said Dane. “Ned has a point. You’re much more palatable.”

The Green Growers do sell products to both Packs. Trust, if slight, has been established.

“You stay out of this, Chip,” said Sean, scowling.

Dane grinned.

“Hah! Even the damned snake agrees. Get out your shiny witch badge. Ned, you’re in charge of directions.”

Dane turned to his walls of weapons and began making his selections. Sean gaped at him as he added silver coated rope and gleaming silver machete to his pile, then checked his gun. When Sean glanced over at Ned the ghost shrugged.

“Witches don’t have badges,” said Sean, then when Dane ignored him, “I don’t even have robes. Dane.”

“Chip says they sell to the Packs,” said Ned. “Any chance they need to make a delivery?”

Sean swore. They really were going to have him risk his position in the Guild he’d only just been accepted into for this. He frowned at Ned, tried reading the ghost again. Since Sean had come into his witch’s powers, he’d found an increased ability to sense or intuit things like emotions, especially from animals, although something about Ned had worked. Maybe that he was so dead. Maybe that whatever it was that made him able to take on some form was magic enough Sean could access it.

Whatever the case, Sean tried again now, came up against something hazy and blank. Ned turned away.

Quit messing around.

Sean sighed, pulled out his phone, and called Hazel. She didn’t seem happy to hear from him, but she confirmed they sold regularly to the area werewolf Packs. When she threatened to make him do the deliveries he accepted; almost immediately she hung up.

“She’s either suspicious or pissed off,” said Sean, running a hand through his hair. “But yeah, they have a couple boxes Hazel’s been putting off delivering because she doesn’t much like werewolves.”

“Good,” said Dane as he snapped a magazine into his gun. “We’ll swing by there, interview some werewolves, and still have time today to discuss who’s guilty over food.”

Sean stared at him. Not only were the werewolves apparently hostile, putting what little position he had in his Guild at risk was a terrible idea. Without them, the Order might wipe his mind again—or worse, force him to join them or die. And while Dane might be okay working for them, Sean had a bad feeling about the Order.

Again, he thought of the secret series of rooms he and Ned had put off telling Dane about, and again he felt guilty. He glanced back toward the panic room, where the entrance was hidden, and bit his lip.

“What’s the f*****g problem, professor?” asked Dane.

Sean shook his head. One thing at a time. The werewolf problem was definitely first.

“If they throw me out of the Guild, it’s your fault,” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” said Dane, and shrugged.