Dead of Winter (Page 47)

If Jack’s bravery was like a living thing inside him, Aric’s wisdom radiated from him.

Jack clearly didn’t know what to make of Death—an uncommon situation for the perceptive Cajun. Since Jack’s go-to response tended to be pure anger, with a side of action, I needed to defuse this.

“Look, guys, can we just secure the place? I’m exhausted.”

I must’ve sounded as tired as I was because Jack nodded. “Ouais. Come on, bébé.”

At the back of the laundry room was a door. A ring of keys hung from a wall peg beside it. They looked like old-timey jailor keys.

Jack raised his bow and flipped on all the light switches. “Stay back.”

Aric unsheathed one of his swords, tugging me behind him.

When Jack opened the door, fluorescent bulbs sparked to life in the freezing garage, illuminating the space.

I peeked around Aric. “Oh, my God. . . .”

28

“Must be twenty of them.” Jack lowered his bow.

Half-dressed men, all shivering.

Aric sheathed his sword. “They’re secured.” The prisoners had been shackled by the ankles to separate bolts.

“Secured?” I whispered. “Aren’t we going to free them?”

Both Jack and Aric shook their heads, then seemed annoyed that they’d agreed with each other.

“Just ’cause they got caught by slavers doan mean they’re innocent,” Jack said. “They could be rival slavers, murderers, rapists. They doan need to have filed teeth to be cannibals.”

Some of the men cast me unsettling stares. One ran his hand over his crotch as he ogled me. Ugh!

I’d so long equated shackled person with good person that I’d had a misguided impulse to help them.

A younger man among them told Jack, “I’m Rodrigo Vasquez. Franklin sent me a message, said I was supposed to meet you on the road.” The guy had dark hair even longer than Gabriel’s and deep brown eyes. Cute. And a friendly? “I got trapped instead.”

Jack snagged the key ring, then made his way to the prisoner. “You got something else to tell me?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Rodrigo rattled off a string of numbers and letters.

They had a code?

Jack unlocked him. “Go scavenge clothes and your gear. Radio your people. Tell them I’m ready to meet.” The co-conspirators. His plan was coming online!

That dream of him was still fresh in my mind. I’d wondered why Matthew had given me such a specific vision. Maybe it had something do with Jack becoming a leader, hinting about his future, of things to come.

No man could be more driven to make something of himself.

As Rodrigo eased past me and Aric into the house, he swallowed audibly.

Aric sighed. —You’d think after two thousand years, I’d be accustomed to looks of fear.—

To the rest of the men, Jack said, “We woan kill any of you, if you cooperate. Goan to ask you some questions.”

“You’re the hunter!” an emaciated man exclaimed. “From Cajun country. I’ve heard of you.”

Another guy said, “You killed a thousand Bagmen! With your bare hands.”

Jack was turning into a larger-than-life legend. He just needed a blue ox named Babe.

Instead of denying such a wild claim, Jack said, “I was bored that weekend, me.” He wasn’t a braggart by nature, but feeding this rumor was smart.

“You ride with those Arcana,” said another man.

“Got a new pair with me right now,” Jack replied. “One’ll be staying with me, the other’ll be riding on.”

Aric gave a humorless laugh. —It’s almost fascinating how confident he is.— As he’d done yesterday, Death watched him avidly.

“Back to the questions,” Jack said. “Any of you a doctor?”

No raised hands.

“An electrician or a mechanic? And doan bullshit me, ’cause I know enough about either to tell if you’re lying.” Jack had read those trade books so he could determine whether someone had helpful skills. “Do any of you got experience that’s valuable today?”

A few raised their hands.

“No attorneys,” Jack bit out, and one man lowered his hand. “I ain’t looking for auto detailers, hedge-fund managers, or salesmen.” With a wink back at me, he said, “And for fuck’s sake, no shrinks.”

Zero hands were left in the air.

“I’m goan to release you when we head out. Now, some of you are probably thinking about following ma belle fille here, ’cause you’re just plain stupid.” He narrowed his eyes at one guy who was staring at me and licking his lips. “She is an Arcana. The Empress of them. Which means she’s pretty much a wrathful Mother Nature.”

—If the shoe fits.—

Shut it. I was in no mood. Though Aric’s honesty had affected me, I was still a little raw from reliving those hardships.

“She’s full of poison, and I’ve seen her tear a man in two with her vines.” Jack turned to me. “Show them some of what you got, Empress.”

I hesitated. I’d never demonstrated my abilities for anyone except Arcana. But then, Matthew had said remaining secret didn’t matter anymore.

So I let my body vine grow, a rose stalk. Creeping out from my collar, it stretched upward like a serpent, then twined around my head in “crown” position, leaves jutting up. I found wearing it like that a comfort.

Jaws dropped.

As the air grew thick with the smell of roses, I raised my purple claws. Reaching for the nearby breaker box, I slashed the metal door like it was paper. Gasps sounded.

With a chuckle, Aric headed back inside, and I followed.

I heard Jack tell the men, “Anybody not a fan of his balls, try something with that one. Anybody else, know that we’re goan to be building a haven in Louisiana, a place called New Acadiana, for white hats only. If you fit the bill, you got something mighty fine to look forward to.”

By the time Jack locked the garage door and joined me and Aric in the living room, Rodrigo had returned, dressed, armed, and holding a two-way radio.

When Aric strode toward the fire, spurs clinking, Rodrigo stared after him with a blend of awe and fear.

Jack snapped his fingers at the man. “You heard anything?”

“Meeting’s tonight. They’re sending a truck here.” He stepped on one of the new carpet stains, and blood splashed up around his boot. “I’m heading outside to flag them down. ETA fifteen.”

Jack told him, “I’m bringing my girl with me.”