Dark Lies (Magic Side: Wolf Bound 3)

18

Savannah

I leapt into my car and drove.

My phone rang a dozen times, but I just drove and drove, looking for a place in Magic Side that wasn’t full of LaSalles or Laurents. Without sorcerers or werewolves. But I didn’t know where that place was.

Normally, when I was distraught, the thrum of the Fury’s engine soothed me, but not tonight.

I could feel my father’s magic—magic that he’d once woven with his sister and my mother to bind my wolf.

Magic wrapped in lies.

The car began to feel like a constrictor, and it became hard to breathe. I’d almost torn my loving, treacherous, protective, deceitful aunt to pieces. I’d seen Casey’s face. There was no going back.

Eventually, I found my way to the Midway Dens and pulled over. I scrolled my phone.

I couldn’t call Jaxson or Sam. They were werewolves, and they’d probably go nuclear when they found out what my aunt had done. And Casey had quickly become my best friend. I kept scrolling and scrolling. Most everyone in it was either a LaSalle or a Laurent—that, or a human with no idea that magic was real.

Like Ihad been once.

My finger hovered over my godmother’s number. Had she known? What would she even say if she hadn’t? Now I was the crazy one?

Finally, at the very end of the list, I found Zara’s name—the only friend I had who wasn’t wrapped up in this mess.

I dialed, and her voice came across the line. “Hey, Fury, what’s up? Ready for roller derby this weekend?”

“Hey, Zar. Um—” My voice choked up. “Look, something really bad has happened, and I don’t know who else to talk to. I don’t know where I can go, and I need a drink, preferably without any LaSalles or Laurents around.”

“Hey, hold on there, waterworks. Are you okay?”

I nodded, though she couldn’t see me, of course. “Yeah. Just need to talk. And drink.”

“Meet me at the Rift on Razorback?”

I sniffed. “Yeah, I’m close. Thanks.”

“See you in five. I’m already on my way.”

It only took me a few minutes to get to the Rift, but finding parking was hell. In the end, I had to walk four blocks through the cool night air.

Casey kept calling, but I muted him. I just couldn’t face what had happened. Not yet, not sober.

If I could take what had happened back, I would. But I couldn’t.

The Rift was in a building constructed from dark glass cubes. It had an animated neon sign of a sexy she-devil dancing above the door that reminded me a lot of the jammer of our derby team, Rayne.

The hulking blue-skinned demon outside the door just waved me through. Sometimes, it was good to be a girl.

The pulse of the music worked into my bones as I pushed through the grinding bodies. My hands were shaking, and though I felt disconcertingly numb, deep down, I knew I was a bomb ready to detonate.

I wedged myself into a spot at the bar to wait for Zara and motioned to the bartender, who strolled on over. He was handsome and ripped and had two gray horns protruding from his forehead like Zara’s, though hers weren’t always visible. “Two tequila shots, please.”

He nodded and poured the tequila as I looked around. The bar was covered with car racing paraphernalia and filled with every kind of Magica I could imagine. A mouthwatering scent of barbeque filled the air, and between the flow of people and alcohol, it seemed like a good place to get lost, which was just what I needed for a while.

Most importantly, I didn’t see anyone I knew.

Screw werewolves. Screw sorcerers. And screw Dragan and my aunt and my parents and all the shit they were wrapped up in.

The bartender slid the shots across the bar, and I noticed the wicked tattoo under his sleeve—a bird of prey. The colorful feathers on its wings were striking against his blue skin, and they shimmered like they were reflecting the sun.

I handed him my credit card. “Nice ink!”

He glanced down at his arm and grinned. “Alana at Devilish Inks is the best in town. Looks like you could use some more.” He gestured toward the tattoo on my arm. “She works just down the street.”

I’d always wanted another tattoo.

“Maybe. Thanks for the tip.” I downed the first shot, wincing at the burn.

At the far end of the room, a curvy woman with a tail was hanging upside down from a stripper’s pole. She was really flexible.

Hell, I kinda liked this place.

As soon as I saw Zara pushing through the crowd toward me, I downed the second shot and ordered another round for us both, as well as a double whiskey on the rocks.

The bartender slid it and the four shots across the granite top as Zara shoved the guy next to me aside to make room for herself. She eyed the two empties and the four full tequilas. “Rough day?”

“You could say that. Help me celebrate.”

Zara downed a shot and nudged one over to me. “What happened?”

I tossed it back. “Well, this afternoon, I nearly beat an asshole to death in a biker bar, and then I ended the evening by finding out that I’ve been a werewolf my whole life, except that my parents bound my wolf to hide what I was, and my aunt was in on it. I nearly killed her on accident and then fled, but not before revealing what I was to Casey—an absolute fucking monster.”

“Shit. That’s a pretty fucked-up day,” she said, and shot another tequila.

“Pretty much. How was yours?”