The Dark Road – Part Two

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Part Two

The tap on her office door pulled Dot from her email and her plans for bloody revenge. She knew that now wasn’t the time for that phase of her plans, but it was hard to let those responsible walk around free day after day. “Come in.”

Josh entered, dressed in scrubs. Matt was behind him in his typical black jeans, black T-shirt. She’d moved them with her to her safe house, needing a place with better resources than a hotel. Also, having her help near at hand was beneficial.

Dot leaned back in her chair. “You got the job at the hospital?”

Josh nodded as he sprawled out in the chair. “Yep. Peter’s in a coma. At least, that’s how the doctors have interpreted his condition. I’ve never heard of a ‘wolf in a coma. He’s still in the burn unit, and I’m not assigned to that unit, but it’s pretty easy to get info at the hospital once you’re in the system. He’s come up quite a lot in hospital gossip because Laura hasn’t been returning the doctor’s phone calls. Peter’s popular in town, and people are baffled at her taking off and ignoring the police and the doctors.”

“What’s the consensus?”

“That she’s grieving but she’ll be back soon.”

Dot gave an inelegant snort. “Laura has always been very on task about her selfishness.” She glanced at Matt. “And Cora.”

“Outwardly, she’s still pissed that you sent her to Jason, but having a new alpha…” He trailed off and shrugged. “She’s relieved, even if she won’t say it.”

“How much did she make you promise to visit her?”

“Three times a week.”

Dot raised a brow.

“I told her something might come up to prevent me from getting over there, but otherwise…” He shrugged. “No reason not to indulge her.”

“You look like a badass, but you’re just a marshmallow.”

Josh laughed at his partner’s expense. “Yeah, he really is.” He nodded to Dot. “Progress?”

Dot sighed, not ready to dive into what had been pissing her off earlier, but not really having a choice. She decided to start with something a little easier. “I followed Deaton around a little this morning.” Matt had done it yesterday. “He’s still not acting like anything much has happened. Going about his life as per usual.”

“How could the loss of his bond to Talia not have affected him?” Josh rubbed his hands over his face. “I don’t get how he’s acting like none of it matters. He never reached out to any of us, and he had to know some of the pack survived. Wasn’t that his responsibility as emissary? Even if Laura abandoned us and him, doesn’t he still have a duty?”

“He does,” Dot assured. “And the fracturing of the pack bonds should be affecting him, but they’re not. Or not very much.”

“What do you think that means?” Matt asked.

“Best guess is that he’s got something else bolstering him.”

Josh frowned. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out.” Or the magic users would when they arrived. “In the meantime, we have other things on our plate. As long as Deaton doesn’t do anything to hinder us, he can be a secondary priority.” Dot opened a folder with a picture of Derek’s substitute English teacher. “I heard back from my contact at the FBI. She’s gone by a plethora of names, but the notable one is Katherine Argent.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, but Josh swore.

“Interestingly, the investigator already ruled the fire as accidental, and the case is being closed.”

“It’s only been three days,” Josh protested.

“Yes. So, let’s assume the investigator was bribed, and probably the sheriff too. Because he has to know you can’t determine arson in a fire that bad so quickly.”

“But why are the Argents gunning for us?” Josh asked.

“I’m not sure they are. Could be just Kate working on her own. She sure has a lot of aliases. My contact mentioned a lot of suspicious fires and gas leaks in towns where she’s been. Kate may be out of reach very soon. I kicked over a hornet’s nest asking for help identifying her. The FBI is curious and trying to figure out which name is the real one, I didn’t offer what I knew, just said that she’d been a new person in my family’s life before they all died and wanted to clear her from the suspect list since the locals weren’t doing a damn thing.

“Which could also bring the sheriff’s department under scrutiny.” She rubbed her temples. Werewolves didn’t get headaches, but the tension was there. “I want to run down every conspirator if we can, but the FBI might wind up snatching this away from us.” She fought down her irritation. “Peter is our priority.”

Josh nodded and Matt did his usual partial nod. “When is that mage arriving?” Josh asked.

“He’s been delayed a little. The shaman he wants to work with doesn’t actually like him very much, so he’s having to go there in person to persuade them.”

“Is this guy a major douchebag or something?”

Dot shrugged. “He’s the most powerful mage alive, so he’s arrogant. But he’s a good man, by some measure of ‘good.’ He’s also well over a hundred years old, but doesn’t look a day over forty, so that’s annoying.” She popped a grape into her mouth and bit into it savagely. “Damn magic users.” Werewolves could live up to twice as long as a human, but they aged pretty normally up until about sixty. Dot was seventy but could pass for fifty on a good day. Booker was easily forty years older than her but looked thirty years younger. Asshole.

“Is he trustworthy?”

“As trustworthy as anyone who isn’t pack. He was supposed to arrive tonight, but maybe tomorrow night if things go well in San Francisco.”

“So, he’s already on the West Coast?”

“Yes. Picked up the healer he wanted from Los Angeles—a witch, I think—and then flew to San Francisco.” She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “I apparently chartered them a private jet.”

“What a nice boss you are,” Josh deadpanned. “Do I get a flight on a private jet?”

“When we get Peter out of that hospital, I’ll send you two on your dream vacation via private jet.”

“I was kidding, Dot.”

“I wasn’t.” She got to her feet. “Throw him out a window if you have to. Just get him out of there.”

* * *

Dot decided to meet Booker and his duo of helpers at her house in town. It was her known residence, the one where she received mail and where people knew to look for her. She wasn’t prepared to give up one of her safe houses to people she didn’t know. Booker was someone she might make an exception for, but not the duo she’d never met.

It was late four days after their initial phone conversation when a big SUV pulled into the driveway and three people piled out. From her security feed, she took in the petite woman who was probably around forty, give or take ten years. She had fair skin, was average height, and had long dark hair, pulled into a loose ponytail, and didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup. Her features were severe but she looked like she smiled a lot.

The man was older and shorter. He was tan and probably close to Dot’s height of 5’4 and close to her in age too, though he looked his age while Dot was pretty sure she didn’t. He had dark hair that was greying and curly cut short and was about ten pounds past portly.

Then there was Booker, who looked the same. He was wearing his hair shorter than the last time she’d seen him. Previously it’d been in long dreads and now it was short afro. He had lineless, smooth, deep skin and was about five inches taller than Dot. He still looked like he was holding at forty. The seriously, major asshole.

Booker didn’t hesitate to approach the door and knock. Even his knock was aggressive.

She left the security room and went down the stairs to let them in. “Booker.”

He smiled. “Dorothy. You look as dangerous as ever.”

“Mm-hm.” She stepped back so they could enter.

As soon as they were inside, Booker took over introductions. “This is Dorothy Miller; she goes by Dot to most people. She’s our employer in this venture. Dot, this is Leah Sofer and Jesse Sallander.”

She shook both their hands, first Leah then Jesse. “Witch and shaman, right?”

They both shook their heads, but it was Jesse who replied, “Nah, I’m the witch, bro.”

“Ah. Pardon my stereotyping. May I offer you some tea?”

“No, thank you,” Leah replied for all of them. “I’m afraid we’ll have to dispense with pleasantries. I need to see the nemeton. Tonight.” The woman had enough of an accent that indicated she’d either lived in Israel for a long time or during the years when she’d learned language.

Dot shot Booker a questioning look at the urgency to see the nemeton.

Booker gave his pair a faint smile. “If you could give us a minute. We’ll be right back.” He gestured for Dot to precede him.

“Help yourselves to whatever.” She made a vague gesture to the tea and coffee service on the coffee table as she guided Booker into the kitchen. “Why the rush to get to the nemeton?”

“This town is a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Someone’s got wards around the town otherwise Leah would have felt it before now considering that she only lives a few hours away. She almost puked when we crossed the wardline.” He shuddered. “It wasn’t too pleasant for me either. A shaman is going to feel it the strongest, but even Jesse was affected. No one is going to be able to rest easily if we don’t get a feel for how bad the situation is. Also, there’s a powerful magic user in town.”

“The person who set those wards, perhaps? Because my assumption is that it was Alan Deaton.”

“No, the magic user who had enough training to set those wards would know how to shield themselves from other magicals. This is untrained and raw.”

Dot considered for a couple of moments. “A child perhaps?”

“Possibly. Though I’m feeling a lot of magical potential, so it’d have to be a very powerful child. Why?”

“About a decade ago, Deaton came to Talia and said he’d taken note of a strong magical presence in town. That he’d investigated and determined it was a child, about a year old.”

Booker’s eyes narrowed. “Go on.”

“Talia was always reluctant to let me in on sensitive issues. She didn’t like how much Joseph and Adele trusted me. However, Peter later told me that he’d been informed that Deaton had approached the parents and explained the child’s magical potential and they’d agreed to get him some training when he was a little older because he was too young to train at that time. Until he was old enough for training, Deaton was confident he’d be safe in Beacon Hills. Talia and Deaton wouldn’t tell Peter who the child was or why Deaton was confident he was safe.”

“How old are we talking about?”

“I gathered the child was a baby, but I don’t have specifics.”

Booker swore then rubbed his hand over his mouth. “A fucking spark.”

Dot’s eyebrows shot up. “Truly?”

“That’s the only magical affinity that resonates the same from birth until death. But I’m feeling less than spark potential, so I’m thinking your Deaton is corrupt as fuck.”

“He’s not my Deaton.”

“Whatever.” Booker paced in a small circle. “It’s your fucking town. If there’s really a ten or eleven-year-old spark in this hellhole, something’s been done to them to keep their spark subdued. And even if I were the kind of asshole to walk away from that, which I’m not, Leah would skin me. I barely got her to agree to come in the first place, so we have to deal with your nemeton and then we have to find this kid.”

“Peter is my priority,” Dot snapped.

“Yeah, well, you’re not a mage, Dot. You called in the cavalry because you’re out of your depth. I already did the ritual research. Your best chance of making this petition is during a solar eclipse, when the moon’s power is at its peak. There won’t be an eclipse until April 8^th, so that’s nearly three months. You’re fortunate we can get the kind of eclipse we need so soon. The next event wouldn’t be until October, and it’s a less optimal lunar event. The plan was to deal with the nemeton, heal Peter, and then I’d come back for the petition in April because you don’t need the other two for that part. But now the plan is nemeton, heal Peter and work on the sparkling at the same time, and then make the petition in three months.”

She sat heavily in one of the kitchen chairs. “Three months?”

“Rituals are often bound by time and circumstance. Your best shot, if you want this to work, is during a solar eclipse. The moon’s power, which is sacred to all therianthropes, peaks during daylight conditions when it obscures the sun. In magical terms, petitioning soon, getting denied, and then trying again isn’t a great plan. You called me in for magical expertise, this is my expert opinion.”

“So, you’re going to be staying in my town, gallivanting around, looking for wee magic users?”

“I don’t gallivant but…yes. I have a duty here,” he said grudgingly.

“Wonderful,” she shot back acerbically. “Just don’t let your duty get in the way of why you’re really here.”

He glared. “Do you even have a patient for us to look at yet?” At her heated return glare, he said, “I thought not. Get your werewolf out of jail and then talk to me about my priorities.”

“He’s in the hospital.”

“Same damn difference.”

Since they were at an impasse and Dot was irritable for no reason that was actually Booker’s fault, she gestured to the door. “Come on. Help me convince your little shaman that we shouldn’t hit the nemeton until morning.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s nighttime and it’s in the middle of a nature preserve. Also, if Deaton is behind the wards around the town and whatever happened with this baby magic user, you can bet your cute little ass that he’s going to notice us poking around the nemeton. During the day, he has patients he can’t just run out on. I can also have Matt watching him during the day. At night? There’s nothing to prevent it from turning into the magical version of the shootout at the O.K. Corral. Are you prepared for that?”

“No.” He gave her a speculative look. “That’s a very Westernized reference. Just how long have you lived in the States?”

“When have I ever been willing to tell you anything about my past?”

“But you owe me a favor now.”

She gave him an incredulous look. “You want to cash in your favor to find out when I left Britain?”

“It does seem silly when you put it that way. I’ll come up with a whole list of things I want to know.”

“You’re a terrible human being.”

“I’ve learned to live with it.”

* * *

Leah had been pestering them to get to the nemeton since sunup, but Dot managed to put her off until 9:00 AM when Matt was in place watching Deaton’s clinic and had confirmed the veterinarian was seeing his first patients of the day.

There was no cellphone signal, so they’d be reliant on Dot’s ears if Deaton decided to leave the clinic.

There had indeed been some wards placed around the nemeton, but Booker had determined they were just pinging the caster if people crossed them, which could happen all the time. Their group crossing the wards and leaving again could be written off as nothing. Dismantling the ward or working other magic would be a bigger clue, so, right now, they were just assessing the situation and not doing any magic.

Dot wasn’t used to feeling quite so…superfluous. All she could do was stand around and wait for the magic users to come to some sort of agreement. They weren’t deliberately cutting her out, but they were speaking about magic at a level that was way, way above her.

After about an hour of back and forth and arguing, Booker finally turned to her and said, “How much of that made sense?”

“Not as much as I’d like. I gather there’s more than one problem?”

“Three distinct issues. The first is that the nemeton was poisoned, likely to weaken it. The size a nemeta grows to is reflective of the strength of the node. The overflow of magic causes the overgrowth. Based on the size of this stump… This nemeton is massively powerful. Possibly one of the most powerful ley nodes on Earth.

“You can’t truly ‘weaken’ a ley node such as this, not even by cutting it down. The node is here, that fact won’t change. The surrounding vegetation would normally surge while the nemeton regrows. Yet this one is still a stump.”

“And why is that? Is the tree part of this magical node truly susceptible to poison?”

“As much as any living thing is,” Leah supplied. “Find the right poison for the right living thing and you’ll kill it. The tree, not the node. The node is as close to eternal as you can get. But a node can become tainted if there’s black magic or too much death in an area. Nature will provide and cleanse itself, but a magical cleansing is appropriate at times to speed things along.”

“So, the issues are poison and that it needs cleansing?”

“The cleansing is actually the minor part, and easy enough to do once the other things are handled. The poison is a bigger problem, but also easily handled because it’s a simple enough matter to remove it and let nature take its course.”

“Remove it?”

Leah nodded. “My guess is tainted crystals have been buried around the nemeton. Likely crystals used in black magic rituals. The bigger issue is the chaos demon the nemeton is containing.”

Dot blinked several times. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not certain which type exactly, but it’s a void creature, of that I am sure.”

“A void demon?”

“Of chaos, yes.” She gestured to the stump. “When the vessel was intact, there was plenty of magic in the vessel itself to contain the demon. Now the magic of the node is being drawn upon to contain it.”

“I don’t understand.” Dot shook her head. “Are you saying there’s not enough magic in the node for it to regrow and contain the demon?”

“There would be. Magic is magic, and a ley node is fairly limitless in general terms, but there’s a siphon on the nemeton itself. So what magic is left in the vessel is going to power this siphon. Magic, while not truly sapient, is sentient to a degree. It doesn’t actually want a void demon released. So, the node is powering a supernatural prison rather than regrowing the nemeton.”

Dot felt tension throb behind her eyes. “And what role does the poison play?”

“It weakens the node itself, allows it to be tapped. That’s probably is why it could be cut down at all. Not that a nemeton has never been cut down before. People have done it without malicious intent and found a new one had regrown a few weeks later. Alarming, I’m sure.”

“And what is this siphon doing?”

“One thing it’s doing is powering the wards around the town that prevent magic users from outside the town from knowing there’s a damaged nemeton here. It’s rather insidious to use the power of a ley node to fuel wards that keep people from knowing the ley node is in jeopardy. But it is what it is. The wards have also served to keep the supernatural from being overly drawn to Beacon Hills unless they happened to cross the wardline. And they shielded the sparkling to a degree, I’m sure. Those wards would have fallen as the nemeton weakened, however, and then the damaged node would be like a magnet for creatures who thrive on chaos.”

“What is your plan?”

Leah deferred to Booker, who said, “We need a couple of weeks to prepare. We’re going to have to hit it hard and deal with the ward around the nemeton, the siphon, and the void spirit at the same time. That’s going to bring down the wards around the town and kickstart the nemeton’s growth. It’s not a trivial undertaking, even for me.”

“Can you do it?”

“I can, but the void spirit is the big unknown. I need to figure out what kind of spirit it is, if I can. The more I’m prepared, the better. Also, one of the things we’ll be doing in that time is finding this magical kid and dealing with them.”

“Why is that a priority?”

Jesse replied, “Because if it is a spark, taking down the town’s wards will put that child on the menu for supernatural and corrupt magic users alike. The wards are bad and have to go. Even though they were designed to protect someone’s dirty little secret, the byproduct of them is that they are protecting a kid. And we’re not okay with tearing them down to help you at someone else’s expense.”

She nodded. “I get it. So get prepared and find the kid. Let me know when we can get started.”

* * *

Booker sprawled on the settee in her reading room and read from his little notebook that he kept tucked in his jacket pocket. “Mic-, uh, Mice-, no… I have no idea how to pronounce this.”

She waved a hand imperiously, expecting him to pass it over without question. It had been a week since the four of them had been to the nemeton and the three continued to live in her house while Dot continued her investigation into who all was involved in the fire that killed the Hale family, destroyed her pack, and landed her boy in the burn unit. Dot went back and forth between this house with the magic users and her safehouse with Matt and Josh. Matt and Josh interacted occasionally with three magic users, but mostly by text. Matt was more comfortable with them but generally disliked people, while Josh found them all unsettling.

Booker passed over the notebook, and Dot’s eyebrows shot up.

She gave him a thoughtful look. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t know how to pronounce that monstrosity, and I’ve been alive a long damn time. Every time I think I’ve got a lock on names, someone has to show me up.”

“I mean, are you sure this is the spark?”

“Most definitely. Someone’s tried to bind his magic, but something’s rattling the binding loose. I’m not even sure what. I haven’t approached him yet, but Leah and I watched him all day at the playground.”

“Joy. Am I going to have to bail you both out of jail when you’re arrested for stalking a deputy’s son?” She passed the notebook back. “And it’s pronounced Mieczysław. It’s Polish. I believe he goes by Stiles.”

“You know him?”

“I knew his mother. Lovely woman. Died suddenly three years ago.”

Booker’s brow furrowed. “How suddenly?”

“I misspoke. She became ill suddenly and then died about six months later. Frontotemporal dementia, I believe was the diagnosis.”

“Excuse me.” Booker got to his feet. “I need to talk to Leah.”

Dot watched him go, wishing she had the ability to pluck information right out of people’s heads. Shaking her head, she went back to her research.

Booker and Leah returned together a few minutes later, Booker taking up his former sprawl on her settee and Leah taking an armchair. Booker gestured to Leah.

Leah nodded. “It’s likely his mother was magical too. There are a few types of magical bindings or siphons on an adult witch that can be very dangerous long term.”

“You don’t think she was a spark too?”

“It’s unlikely. Sparks are rare anyway, but those who don’t find magical mentors when they’re young to help them shield themselves often wind up on someone’s menu. Figuratively or literally, as the case may be. If she’d made it to adulthood as a spark without anyone knowing, that’d be…odd. Very odd. But if her son drew attention and someone unscrupulous took note of it, they might have persuaded her to use her own power to protect her son, effectively neutering the both of them.”

“How so?”

“Well, let’s say I came to you and said your son was a stupidly rare magical user and his power was waking at a really young age.”

“Infancy, basically.”

“Correct. And there was no way to protect him other than to shield him or bind his power in some way until he was old enough to train, and that you had untapped power yourself and could fuel the protections for your son. What would you do?”

“If I believed you, I’d do whatever it took, I suppose. Even use myself as a battery for a spell to protect my son.”

“Right.” Leah leaned forward, intense. “Let’s say whoever this was had convinced her to tap her own power to fuel a binding on her son. Maybe they called it something else—protections or a ward or something of that nature. If she had a decent amount of power and it was in the witch, druid, or mage type of craft, she could fuel that binding for five or ten years.”

“That seems…short.”

“A decently powerful mage could power the binding on a witch for eternity, but on a spark? No. Even a nominal binding of a spark would drain her dry sooner rather than later. A spark’s magical potential is basically impossible to control by external forces in the long-term.”

Dot pinched the bridge of her nose. “So, it’s possible that Claudia’s own untrained magic was used to fuel a binding on her son and it caused her dementia?”

“A magical person being drained of their magic is very similar symptomatically to dementia. No one would know the difference.”

“Except the person who talked her into it.” Dot steepled her fingers and considered for a few seconds. “I assume we think this is Deaton?”

“I do,” Booker replied, “but nothing is certain until we question him, which we can’t do yet.”

“Don’t ever tell that child that his mother’s life was drained away to imprison his magic. He wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Leah nodded. “I would never do anything to traumatize him in such a fashion, but we will need to tell his father.”

Dot blew out a breath. “Deputy Noah Stilinski. A good man. Already people are murmuring about him running for sheriff in next year’s election since the existing sheriff is retiring. He’s favored.”

“Deputy or no, sheriff or no,” Booker said severely, “he needs to know about this world before his son becomes an aperitif.”

Dot nodded. “Do I need to be involved?”

“We’ll start the discussion with him, but he may need more proof that we can provide. You’d be surprised how often people manage to convince themselves that magic was a hallucination or just silly tricks.”

“You want to use me as a visual aid?”

Booker shrugged.

Dot glared. “Get out of my office.”

* * *

Several days passed, and Dot wasn’t sure how much progress the trio of magic users were making on getting time with Noah Stilinski. Last she’d heard, figuring out the man’s schedule was giving Jesse and Leah fits. It was all over the place, and whether or not Stiles would be with a sitter overnight was also unpredictable.

It was well past the dinner hour and she was taking a much-needed break from trying to track down Kate Argent to spend some time reading and enjoy a cup of tea alone in her sitting room. She’d allowed Booker and even Leah in there a time or two, but the room was her haven, and she generally preferred to have it to herself.

Her cellphone vibrated and, as much as she was tempted to ignore it for once, she answered it. “Good evening, Joshua.”

“Dot. They’re moving Peter.”

She at up straight. “When?”

“In the morning. He’ll still be in the burn unit, but he’s healed enough that he doesn’t need to be in one of the critical rooms, so he’ll actually have a window.”

While walking Peter out in a wheelchair was a preferred plan, it was also a nearly impossible and risky plan. She wasn’t above having him tossed out a window. “As soon as you’re able, I need—”

“Room, size of windows, and if they open or not. I know. I’m not technically assigned to that unit, but I’ve made a point of visiting people in that unit on my breaks, so the nurses are used to seeing me. They think I’m sweet. I already know which rooms have viable windows, so as soon as I have the room number, I’ll know if operation defenestration is a go.”

She laughed, and it sounded nearly hysterical to her own ears. “Have you assessed the security cameras?”

“Of course. Well, the interior ones. I need to get Matt on the exterior security. He’s better at that kind of thing, and I figure he’s going to be doing the catching anyway.”

“I’ll call him now.”

“I will call him. Just take a few deep breaths, Dot. We’re in the home stretch.”

“Very well. Thank you, Josh.” She hung up and blew out a breath. They weren’t really in the home stretch at all. It was barely the beginning.

There was a tap on her door, and she schooled her expression. “Come.”

Booker opened the door but then just leaned against the jamb. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heard you laughing, but it didn’t sound like actual amusement.”

“Release of tension, I think. They’re moving Peter to a room with a window tomorrow morning. I should know soon if we’ll be able to get him out that way.”

“You’re really going to yeet,” he made a gesture with his hands like he was flinging something, “him right out the window?”

“If that’s the fastest way to get him out of the hospital, yes.” She sipped her tea. “He’s a werewolf. He’ll survive.”

Booker nodded, looking vaguely amused.

“Was there something else?”

“We’ve got an appointment with Noah Stilinski tomorrow night.”

“You worried about that?”

“Worried I’m going to get conned into being stuck in this town for the next couple of years mentoring a spark? Yes.”

“You think Noah is going to be able to con you?”

“No, it’s that little devil spawn he’s raising.”

“Stiles?”

“Yes.”

“I always thought he was a sweet child.”

“A child you think is sweet. Now I know he’s Satan.”

“He’s rambunctious. I didn’t know him well, but I think his mother’s nickname for him was Mischief. Hardly a portent of doom.”

“It’s his eyes.”

“He’s got evil eyes?”

“The opposite. They’re like fucking Bambi.”

Dot grinned. “Oh, so that’s how it is. You’ve got a soft spot for big brown eyes.”

“He ran up to me at the playground yesterday. Convinced me to play catch with him and his little friend.” Booker shuddered. “It was like I was hypnotized into doing terrible things.”

Dot bit her lip. “You poor thing.”

Booker was giving her a speculative look. “You still tense?”

“I’ve been tense for weeks.”

“Want to have sex?”

Dot blinked several times then set her tea aside and got to her feet. “Good god, yes.”

Booker grinned. “I didn’t expect you to say yes.”

“I haven’t been laid properly in years.”

“You haven’t had sex in years?” he repeated, sounding aghast.

She stopped in front of him and stepped close. “That’s not what I said. Do keep up, Booker. I said it wasn’t all that great. I’ve had a better time by myself with a long bath and a good book.”

“Challenge accepted, Dorothy.”

She smiled and pulled him toward the stairs leading to her bedroom. “You better come to play. I’ve read some very good books.”

* * *

Dot’s cellphone vibrating woke her just after sunup. She pulled away from the warm body wrapped around her back and rolled to a seated position as she answered, “Yes?”

“The room has a viable window,” Josh said without preamble. “Matt did preliminary recon last night, and I think we have a viable path, but we’re going to need to run it every night this week to make sure. Matt’s got a video to go over with you. He can meet you whenever you’re ready today.”

“I’ll call him and arrange to meet later this morning.” She’d been setting up one of her safehouses closer to town to be ready for Peter. Though closer to the city center, it still abutted the preserve so the pack could run if desired. Matt had been her main assistant with getting the house prepared, and they often met at the house.

She talked to Josh for a couple of more minutes before hanging up and blowing out a breath. Setting the phone on the end table, she ran her hands through her short hair, taming the bedhead. Another week and she’d have Peter back.

A strong arm curled around her hips and warm lips pressed against her spine. “Good news?” Booker rumbled against her skin.

She hadn’t intended to let him stay, but he’d so thoroughly worn her out last night that she’d fallen asleep with an ease she hadn’t experienced in weeks. “We’re going to start doing practice runs at night to make sure we’re ready to get Peter.” She turned and glanced down at him. “Is this going to be a thing?”

He pressed another kiss to her hipbone. “I’m enjoying this thing.”

“I noticed.”

He glanced up and raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I enjoyed myself too, but I thought we agreed we work best on favors and veiled threats.”

“I’m willing to add sex to the list.”

“How altruistic of you.” She didn’t resist when he pulled her back down to the bed.

“We figured out what kind of spirit is lurking in the nemeton.”

“What sexy pillow talk, Mr. St. John. Do tell. I’m so intrigued.”

“I can’t even tell if you’re serious or not.”

She grinned. “Come on. Share.”

“It’s a nogitsune. Satomi had the answer. She helped defeat it back in 1943 along with a kitsune named Noshiko Yukimura.” He slid his hand down her thigh and encouraged her to wrap her leg around his waist.

“Did Satomi know she’d Yukimura put the nogitsune in the nemeton?” She arched up against him, tilting her head back.

“No. Satomi wasn’t pleased to hear what had ultimately been done with the little beast.”

“Will you be able to get rid of it.”

“Definitely.”

Dot shuddered.

“That turn you on?” He nipped at her throat.

“Competence is sexy.”

“Then I must be the sexiest bastard alive.”

“Most arrogant.” She pinched his hip reprovingly.

He laughed. “Well, just think of all the stress relief we can accomplish while we wrap this up.”

She slid her hands over his shoulders. “As long as there are no uncomfortable feelings involved.”

“I solemnly swear I will get up to no feelings,” he said with a grin.

* * *

Dot pored over the video they’d taken of their latest run-through of the rescue for Peter. Hospital security was fairly lax, but their goal was to have neither her nor Matt appear on any external hospital security cameras. From the inside, Josh had managed to find a circuitous path to the burn unit that kept him off of any security feeds save one. It relied on them getting Peter out of there before an out of order security camera in one of the hallways was repaired, otherwise, people would know Josh had been in that unit.

There was no way to account for every detail or for the human factor, but she felt confident they could get him out without anyone knowing what had happened to him.

She glanced across the dining table to Matt and Josh. “I think we’re set. You’re on duty again in two nights?”

Josh nodded.

“We’ll do it then.”

“I’d like to speak to Dorothy,” Booker said from the doorway.

Josh and Matt both looked to her, not leaving until they had her nod.

Booker slid into the seat Josh had vacated, watching the two werewolves leave the kitchen. “He doesn’t like us.”

“Joshua? He doesn’t know you well enough to have an opinion,” she said dismissively.

“He’s obviously uncomfortable around us.”

“Perhaps with good reason. I’ve never asked, and he hasn’t offered any insight, but surely you can concede that there might be reasons why people would be uncomfortable around magic.”

“Mm.” Booker drummed his fingers on the table, watching her closely.

“Is something on your mind? Because we were in the middle of planning Peter’s rescue.”

“I’d like you to delay it a few more days.”

She set her teacup down with a sharp clack. “And why is that?”

“We’re dealing with the nemeton in three nights.”

“Which has fuck all to do with Peter. We can’t help you in the ritual—”

“Dot, I don’t know how Deaton will react when we tear his wards down and break his siphon to the nemeton. He could lash out. He could go on the offensive and attack us, which we can handle, or he could do something really detestable and go after another power source. Stiles.”

Her lips pursed in displeasure.

“Peter will be vulnerable from the moment you bring him home, and your focus is going to be on him. I understand that. But during the ritual, all three of us have to be there, so there’s no one to protect Stiles and his father. No one to keep an eye on Deaton. I get that you don’t actually care about this kid—”

“Don’t tell me what I care about!” she snapped.

Booker’s jaw muscles flexed then relaxed. “The nemeton is in the critical path to your plans for your precious boy. You’ll keep an eye on Stiles and Noah during the rituals or we have nothing to talk about, Dot. The world doesn’t revolve around just your pain.”

“You bastard.”

“You knew exactly what I was like when you called me here. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. You’ve never been impetuous in all the years I’ve known you, and you damn well know you can’t just drag Peter out of the hospital and fling him on a mystical tree stump and hope to succeed. The nemeton has to be in better shape and so does he. It was always a long path, always. Stiles is a wrinkle we couldn’t have anticipated, but it doesn’t alter the overall timeline. We can’t petition the nemeton until April 8^th, and your impatience over a couple of days is just a tantrum.”

She was seconds from lunging across the table and ripping his face off, but she forced down the rage that could consume her in an instant, which wasn’t really even about Booker. It was about hunters and violence and death. Again.

Booker rubbed his forehead and blew out a breath. “You act like none of the ‘magical stuff’ is your problem, but it’s part of what you need in order to accomplish your ends. If you don’t stop treating us like we’re an inconvenience, we’ll go.”

She frowned. “You’ll just abandon a damaged nemeton?”

“No. And I won’t abandon my student either. But I can do my duty to magic and not get caught up in your crusade. I don’t actually owe you anything.” With that, he pushed back from the table and left the room.

Matt slipped back into the room a few minutes later and took the seat Booker had abandoned. “It doesn’t hurt to wait.”

She nodded, not saying anything.

“Magic users make Josh tense because a dark coven moved into his hometown and began a lot of ritual sacrifices when he was a young teen. It was the beginning of a lot of bad stuff that, rightly or wrongly, he blames on magic. He was newly settled with a pack and that dark coven nearly took everything from him.”

Dot glanced up sharply.

“But he likes Stiles. He’d be okay hanging out with the kid until the ritual is over.”

“Thank you, Matthew.”

He nodded and slipped out of the room again, always silent as a ghost.

Dot made some fresh tea and spent some time getting her thoughts in order then she went in search of Booker. She found him in the library, reading through some esoteric tomes she’d rescued from the Hale house in the dead of night over the last week.

She sat next to him on the chaise. “Josh and I will stay with the Stilinskis, though I’d prefer they come here. The wards you’ve put up should keep Deaton from finding them.”

“I have wards on the Stilinski house,” he said without inflection.

“Yes, but Deaton would know to look there even if he can’t detect Stiles’ presence any longer.”

He watched her for a few seconds. “All right. I’ll arrange for them to come here.”

“Matthew will monitor Deaton from a distance to hopefully get a heads up if he decides to take action. If Deaton heads for the preserve, Matt will call me, and I’ll join him there.”

“Reasonable.”

Dot nodded and waited. When nothing else was said, she got to her feet.

He caught her by closing a hand around her wrist. “Tell me about Peter.”

Taking in a shuddery breath, Dot sat back down. “What about him?”

“I don’t care. Anything.”

“He’s as close as I’ll ever have to a son.”

Booker blinked. “Oh.”

“Did you think I was in love with him?”

“I know very little about him except your single-minded determination to save him and give him power.”

Dot shook her head and glanced away. “I was born just outside London just before the start of the Second World War. My pack was small but stable. A fair number of ‘wolves from various packs in Europe fought in the war. I’m not sure if that contributed to the rise in hunter activity in Europe post-war or if it was just a coincidence, but regardless, the Hunter’s Council had a hard time controlling the more extreme factions of the hunter families for a couple of decades.”

“I remember,” Booker murmured. “I hadn’t quite achieved elemental status yet, so I wasn’t on the Magical Council, but I was close enough to those who were to remember the rumblings of discontent that the Hunter’s Council wasn’t doing something more to stop the bad acts.”

“I was seventeen when I was captured by one of those rogue hunter families. They had me for three years. Joseph Hale rescued me.” She turned and glanced at Booker again.

His brow was furrowed. “I was part of the strike team that Joseph was on after the war. That’s how he and I met. The Magical Council finally stepped in after several packs were wiped out and created several teams of magic users and supernatural beings to find and destroy, with prejudice, any of the rogue hunter elements we could find.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I was being held at that farm near Cambridge.”

He looked stricken. “That was where they…”

“Were doing more experiments than actual killing? Yes, I know. They took some cues from the Nazis the Allied forces had so recently defeated.”

“Dot.”

“Don’t.” She took a deep breath. “I was part of the group where they were trying to find out what it took to sterilize a werewolf. Mission accomplished,” she said bitterly. “Joseph pulled me out of there and tried to return me to my pack, but it was small to start with and the hunter atrocities had cut deeply into our numbers, so those who were left integrated into bigger packs. I was lost and pretty self-destructive, and my alpha didn’t know what to do with me. The Magical Council was making noise about finding me a new pack, but Joseph took me home with him instead. Made me part of his pack and his family.”

“That farm was the last mission he and I did together.” Booker was staring at her like she was a puzzle.

“He cared about me, but he didn’t love me. Not like you’re thinking. His heart had always belonged to Adele.”

“And you?”

“Oh, I had a terrible crush for a long time, but I got over it.” She shook her head. “The point is that I hardened myself to the idea of having a family. I was exposed to the pack children, and I was there when Adele and Joseph had Talia and then later Amelia. I wasn’t emotionally attached or invested in them beyond being pack. And then Peter came along. He was a late pregnancy—by human standards, anyway—and a surprise one, I think. I don’t know why he was different, but the minute I held him, it was like I was holding my own son.

“I know Adele loved Peter, but I don’t think she’d wanted more children. She wasn’t particularly interested in going back to diapers and midnight feeds. Though, in a peculiar twist, she was enthusiastic about babies again when Mark was born just a few years after Peter.”

“Mark was Talia’s oldest.”

“Yes. Peter always felt like he was more mine than Adele’s, and we’ve always been close.”

“And he’s more like you?”

“Not really, though people would say we were. Both left hands, people would say we both were hard and ruthless. In truth, Peter is much softer and more caring than I’ve ever been, even before the hunters got ahold of me. Peter is just like Joseph in that regard.”

Booker’s brow furrowed. “And Peter was a left hand?”

“I know. It was a terrible choice, but that was Adele and Talia’s vision, and Peter so longed for his mother’s approval, he never told her how the title didn’t quite fit. He can certainly be ruthless in the defense of his pack, but it’s not his nature the way it is mine.” She gave him a speaking look. “I would do anything for him.”

“For your son? Yeah, I get that. And I promise to help, but knowing that I’m in it until this is done, please trust me to figure out the right priorities, okay? I don’t want to leave Peter in the hospital a moment longer than he has to be, but he’s safer where he is right now.”

She nodded, hating every minute of it.

“He was married, yes?”

“Yes. Though they were more friends than some grand passion. Talia persuaded him to marry Sonya as part of a pack alliance. It certainly wasn’t what I wished for him—I’ve always wanted him to find a great love. Though now I have cause to be grateful in some small way that he hadn’t. He’ll be hurt regardless, but perhaps it’s a lesser hurt.” She shook her head. “Perhaps it’s callous to be grateful he wasn’t in love with his wife.”

“No children?”

“No. Talia had encouraged it, but Sonya wanted to wait a little longer. Another thing to be grateful for.”

He scooted closer to her and took one of her hands in both of his. “We’ll get him back and get him in as good a condition as we possibly can for this petition. Have a little faith.”

“You ask a lot.”

“I know.” He pulled her up off the chaise. “Come help me get through these journals about the origins of the Hale pack. The more we understand about the nature of the covenant with the territory, the better prepared we’ll be for the petition.”

* * *

Dot heard an unfamiliar vehicle stop in front of the house, so she turned off the stove and set the food aside while she listened to someone walk up to her door. Booker, Leah, and Jesse were supposed to be finalizing details for the nemeton ritual by picking up some esoteric ingredients at a shop in the next county. Josh and Matt were taking the evening to themselves, though Matt and Dot would be meeting up at midnight for yet another run-through of their exit strategy for Peter. So, Dot expected to have a quiet evening to herself. She needed it, needed time to clear her head.

She wasn’t exactly surprised when she opened the door and found Noah Stilinski standing there. “Deputy.”

“Ms. Miller.” He was in civilian clothes, but he’d driven the sheriff’s department cruiser. Booker and company had met with Stilinski a few nights ago. Supposedly the man had been ultimately convinced of their sincerity but had asked for time to think.

“How can I help you?”

“Mr. St. John said that you might be able to answer a few questions for me.”

She was going to kick Booker’s ass from one side of her bed to the other. In response, she smiled faintly and opened the door, gesturing for him to enter. “Can I get you some tea or water? Coffee perhaps?”

“Got anything stronger?”

She shot him a frankly disapproving look. “No. I don’t indulge those sorts of emotional crutches.”

He looked shocked then rueful. “You don’t pull your punches.”

Dot gestured for him to sit at the kitchen table. “I’ll make some coffee. You seem more the coffee type than the tea.” She pulled out her French press and got the kettle on. “What can I do for you, Deputy?”

“Noah, please.”

“Dorothy,” she offered. “I know Booker laid the magical origins of the town on you.” She shot him a speculative look. “You have questions?”

“They showed me a lot, told me more.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It seems hard to believe.”

“Did they tell you about werewolves?” She knew they had, but she was curious what Noah would admit to.

He frowned a bit. “That was hard to believe.”

“Did they tell you I’m a werewolf?”

He stilled. “Are you?”

“I am.”

“They said the Hales…”

“I was part of their pack.” She cocked her head to the side. “I’m surprised you’d come here if you didn’t realize I was part of the proof.”

“I just thought you’ve lived in Beacon Hills longer than I have, and if you knew about magic, you might have some additional perspective. Booker made it sound like you worked with them.”

“Not exactly.” She poured the water over the coffee grounds. “Did you want to see?” She slowly pressed down on the plunger knob.

He swallowed heavily and nodded.

Dot leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms, letting the beta shift come over her slowly. So slowly he couldn’t deny what he was seeing but also to keep it from feeling so threatening. Dot knew she appeared less intimidating than other ‘wolves. Her hair had gone completely white early in life and that color change followed her to beta shift. The white fur often struck people as less threatening. An advantage she was usually happy to capitalize on right before she ripped someone’s throat out.

To Noah’s credit, he remained seated and just stared at her, not saying a word. Dot let her beta shift slowly melt away as she served him his coffee, setting out cream and sugar. She poured water for her own tea and sat across from him, now fully back in her human form.

He cleared his throat. “So, everything they said…”

“Completely true. And consider that they probably left a lot of things out to keep from overwhelming you.”

He closed his eyes and shook his head. “What do I do? Take my son and get out of here?”

“That’d be foolish.”

“Foolish? Trying to protect my son?”

“Taking him away from the only protection he has. You don’t seem to understand that the supernatural and magical world are everywhere. You can’t make him safe by doing something as mundane as moving—unless you’ve mastered interdimensional travel.” She’d never been the sort to play softball. “Your son is magical; there’s not a damn thing you can do about that. He’s unfortunately the most alluring and rare type of magical being. Running isn’t an option, and the option your wife employed isn’t viable with his type of magic. He needs to be trained. Immediately. If you care about his survival, get over your angst and let Booker train him.”

“Let a man I don’t even know have access to my son?”

“I’m not sure what you expect me to tell you, Noah. I’ve known Booker for a long time. He’s not going to hurt a child. Not like whoever did that slipshod binding on him.”

Noah’s jaw clenched. “They told me their theory that someone manipulated Claudia—” He cleared his throat. “And that it led to her death.”

“It’s likely. I’m a werewolf, not a magic user, so it’s not my area. The thing you don’t yet understand is that there’s no way for you to check references or find him a ‘better’ magic teacher. This is not that Harry Potter nonsense. Booker is the most powerful mage on the planet. He’s only in town to help me, but he feels a duty to help when a child spark is left vulnerable. You can spit on his offer if you want, but don’t expect me to hold your hand and tell you that you’re being reasonable.”

“Wow.” Noah chuckled. “St. John warned me that you wouldn’t pull your punches.”

“And yet you came here anyway.”

“I needed to hear it from someone I know. At least, in some small way.” He glanced away. “Do you really think this attempt to bind Stiles’ magic is what killed Claudia?”

“I’m not the expert, but considering the shenanigans the person we suspect has been up to… I’m certainly willing to concede to Booker’s judgment on the matter.”

He nodded. “Leah said I shouldn’t tell Stiles that part.”

“Well, you’re his father. But are you a shitty father?”

He blinked in shock. “Pardon me?”

“Are you a shitty father? Would you truly tell your son that someone killed his mother to try to control his power?”

Noah paled and looked like he might be ill. “I hadn’t—” He got to his feet and looked around. “I need a minute.”

Dot pointed out the direction of the guest bath.

When he came back, face and hair damp, looking a little less like he was going to be ill at any moment, he sat and took a long drink of the coffee.

“I’ve never been known for my tact,” she began.

“You don’t say.”

“It’s never served me, but I admired Claudia very much, and for her sake, I will say that I believe what Booker can offer you to be the best possible solution. No one would dare try to hurt your son with Booker as his protector. But if you run away with Mieczysław, thinking that getting away from this one single town is the solution to the problem, you’re going to get yourself, your son, and bystanders killed. You owe Claudia better and you certainly owe your son more.”

Noah nodded. “Well, I can’t say this was fun.”

“Finish your coffee, Noah, ask your questions. Just make them sensible questions. I was born a werewolf over seventy years ago, and I’ve seen a great many things. But I have no advice to give about how best to hide from your problems.”

He took another drink from his cup. “Do you think the sheriff was bribed to let the Hale fire investigation go?”

“You’re the better judge of that. What do you think?”

“I think he’s on his way out, and probably took a few bucks to look the other way on a losing investigation.” He sighed and shook his head. “Tell me about werewolves.”

* * *

“Ms. Dot?” Stiles vibrated in place in front of her.

She didn’t look up from her book. “Yes, Mr. Stiles.”

“It’s just Stiles.”

“It’s just Dot.”

He huffed. Dramatically. “Yes, Ms. Dot.”

She peered at him over the edge of the book. “What did you need?”

“Dad’s playing chess with Josh.”

“Thank you for the status report.”

His nose wrinkled. “This is really boring.”

She was tempted to draw out his torment, but the kid was amped up like he’d had a case of Pixy Stix. She closed her book with a thump. “Then I suppose we should occupy you.”

Booker had warned her that the magical surges during the rituals could either put Stiles out like a light or rev him up. He’d also given her some suggestions for ways to occupy him.

“We’re going out to the garden,” she called out to Noah and Josh. Both nodded and Noah looked like he might say something but then he just shook his head. They’d talked and talked ahead of tonight to ensure that all his questions were answered but also that he knew they didn’t know what to expect. The deputy was in plain clothes but had his gun on his hip, taking the protection of his son very seriously.

When they were out in the garden, Stiles looked around a bit then looked up at her. “Can I really do magic?”

“Yes.”

He scuffed his sneakers against the grass. “I don’t feel like magic.”

“Well, what does magic feel like?”

He shrugged.

She unfolded a blanket and sat on it, patting the ground next to her. “Let’s try something.”

“Are you magic too?”

“No, but there’s some easy magic you can try.” It wasn’t easy at all, but Booker had mentioned that one of the hardest problems with training sparks is they could be crippled by doubt. One thing Dot excelled at was being manipulative.

“Can anyone do it?”

“Almost anyone,” she said vaguely.

“Like my friend Scott?”

She laughed. “No. Scott’s not your mother’s son.”

“And I get my magic from my mother.” Stiles looked sad but tried to smile through it. “What do I do?”

She gestured to a patch of grass next to the blanket where she’d planted a bulb earlier in case it came to this. “Just sit here. Put your hands on the earth and think of how much you want good things to grow.”

He gave her a skeptical look but got in the position she suggested.

“Close your eyes and focus. Now repeat these words, and when you do, imagine that you’re sharing life with the whole planet and you want to give a little bit of it to this patch of grass.”

“What do the words do?”

“It’s the magical incantation.”

“Like Cinderella?”

“Pfft. Made up nonsense words. This has actual meaning. Now are you going to do it or not?”

He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “Okay.”

“Remember, you’re your mother’s son, Stiles, and all your magic came from her. Believe that and say: ego sum paulo potum fictile.”

He repeated the words slowly and carefully, breathing in and out. At first, nothing happened, though she could feel almost a humming sensation in the air. Then suddenly, the plant burst from the ground, instantly blooming into a vibrant orange tulip. Then every plant in her garden began to bloom.

“Okay stop!”

Stiles’ eyes popped open and he stared in shock at the tulip right in front of him. “Wow! What did I say?”

“Loosely translated? I’m a little teapot.”

His gaze shot up to her, confusion in the amber eyes. “What?”

“Nonsense in Latin, child. It meant nothing. And, yet, look what you did.” She gestured to the rest of the garden.

His brief look of betrayal morphed into awe as he gazed around the garden. “I did that?”

“You did. I tricked you so that you’d think the words mattered when all that matters is that you believe in yourself and the powers your mother gave you.”

After a few seconds of staring around Stiles moved onto the blanket and stared at Dot. “They said her magic made her sick.”

Dot had been briefed on the party line. That Claudia hadn’t ever learned how to use her magic and so she had become ill. “Some types of magic need to be used or they go rotten inside of us.”

“Will that happen to me?”

“I don’t think so. Your magic is probably very different from your mother’s.”

“How come Mom didn’t know she had magic?”

“You didn’t know, did you?”

“True.” He looked like he wanted to say something else but kept glancing toward the house. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“You may. And unless your safety is in jeopardy, I won’t reveal your secrets.”

He seemed to consider the wording of her promise for a few seconds before nodding. “My mom thought I was a demon, that there was something wrong with me.”

“Well, that’s not true.”

He blinked a few times, looking offended. “No, she really said—”

“I’m not talking about what she said before she died, Mieczysław. Your mother adored you. She thought you were absolutely perfect. If she said something awful after she got sick, that was the illness speaking. You shouldn’t believe an illness wearing your mother’s face over the woman who loved you, played with you, and held you for eight years prior to that.”

His eyes filled with tears. “But why did she think I was awful?”

“I don’t know, but if I were to guess, the illness was reacting to the magic in you and not you. And take note that I said the illness was reacting to the magic, not your mother. I think your mother always knew you were magical and planned to tell you when you were older, and you really shouldn’t hold her illness against her.”

He reared back, looking affronted. “I don’t!”

“You do. You believe the things she said when she was sick over the things she said when she was well.”

He opened and closed his mouth several times. Then suddenly, he burst into tears.

Dot ruthlessly stomped down on her inclination to run back into the house and let grownups handle the tears and, instead, pulled the boy into her lap, holding him close. He was all gangly arms and legs, moving into his first pre-teen growth spurt. He clung to her like she was his lifeline.

“Your mother loved you every day of her life, she was proud of you, and even if she didn’t actually know about magic, she knew you were magical because of how you made her feel. Don’t let the last six months mean more than the first eight years, okay, kiddo? I know it’s hard and painful to have lost her in such a way, to have your precious time with her end with angry words and hurt feelings, but I think the best thing you can do is honor your mother by telling the world that those six months don’t matter. That you loved your mother and she loved you. That you’re going to remember the eight wonderful years and try to forget the awful things the illness did to both of you. It wasn’t fair to either of you, but you weren’t to blame, Stiles. None of this was your fault.”

Stiles was crying harder, face buried in her shoulder. “I think Dad blames me,” he hiccuped around his tears.

“I know that’s not true. But you should talk to him because that’s not a good thing to let fester.” Dot met Noah’s pain-filled gaze where he was standing on the patio, watching them. She’d known the minute he stepped out of the house while Stiles was trying to make the tulip grow.

Stiles shook his head.

But Noah crossed the yard and pulled his son into his arms, causing Stiles to cry harder. He rubbed Stiles’ back and nodded to Dot. “Thanks,” he murmured as he walked away.

Josh joined her a second later, sitting on the blanket. “Well, that sucked.”

“Have you always been such a master of understatement?”

“It’s a gift.” He nudged her. “I can’t believe you taught a spark magic.”

“I can’t believe Booker left me in charge of that. I’m a werewolf. It’s unnatural.”

“Preach, sister, preach.”

They were still sitting on the blanket, watching the sunset, blocking out the faint murmurings of father and son finally communicating, when the wave of magic felt like it rippled across the fabric of reality.

“Do you suppose that was good or bad?” Josh asked.

“Well, we’re still here.”

“Does that mean good?”

“I have no idea.”

* * *

Dot was plying the trio of magic users with caffeine and carbs, which is what they said they’d need after the ritual, but they were all pretty out of it. Other than to tell her that they’d been successful, they were just collapsed around the dining room table like a trio of soggy noodles.

She checked her phone one more time, exchanging a look with Josh. Matt hadn’t responded to texts in the last hour, and his phone was going straight to voicemail. Josh was overtly worried, and Dot was slowly getting there as well.

The sound of a familiar car in the drive had Josh on his feet and meeting his lover at the door. Dot stepped out of the kitchen to witness the reunion in the foyer. Matt looked tired but unharmed.

“Deaton’s dead,” Matt said as soon as Josh pulled away. “There was some sort of magical backlash. I went to investigate, and I think it did something to my phone. Damn thing’s a brick now.”

“He just died?” Dot mimed someone just falling over.

“Not quite that quick. There was screaming, which is why I was checking it out. But he’s definitely dead.”

“Dammit.” Dot blew out a breath. “I’d really been looking forward to interrogating him.”

“Your bloodthirstiness is kinda hot,” Booker said as he came up behind her.

She shot him a look. “You look like the walking dead. You’re too exhausted to find anything hot.”

He shrugged, giving her a half-smile. “Sleep first, hotness later.”

She glanced at Josh and Matt. “Can you help Jesse and Leah get to bed? They’re both half unconscious at the table.” She wrapped her arm around Booker’s waist, half dragging him toward the stairs. “You’re with me. I put Noah and Stiles in your room.” She was out of empty guest rooms, and Booker had been with her every night since they’d started their ill-advised tryst.

“I saw the garden. What exactly did you say to Stiles?”

“I imparted some deeply profound wisdom to him.”

He snorted but said nothing else as she plopped him on the bed and began removing his clothes. It was the work of a minute to get him undressed and under the covers. “Werewolf strength,” he murmured. “Hot.”

“Go to sleep.”

He held on to her hand. “I almost didn’t make it.”

“Pardon?”

“The nogitsune was harder than I thought.”

“But you succeeded.”

“Banished back to the void.”

“I never doubted you.”

* * *

Dot followed Matt through along the well-rehearsed path to their target outside the west wing of the hospital. Matt moved like a werewolf, but his military training was also evident, making him more lethal than just about any other person one might encounter in Beacon Hills.

Both of them were in dark green and black, with hair and face covered in black balaclavas, a vital necessity as her hair was so pale it could be easily seen from any window in the hospital. They’d gone over every eventuality they could conceive of, including major injury from catching Peter, but it was impossible to truly plan for everything. However, they were both used to thinking on their feet and she had confidence they would leave here with Peter and without raising an alarm.

It would perhaps have been better to wait until Peter was out of the burn unit, perhaps into long-term care, before trying to liberate him from the hospital, but she couldn’t bear the idea of him being isolated from pack longer than necessary. Though most believed the only way to attain pack was with an alpha, Dot knew differently. She’d learned that when she’d been imprisoned for three years by hunters with no alpha in sight. Sometimes, if one were determined enough, pack was a matter of will.

Dot had plenty of determination.

She had already waited longer than she wanted, an additional three days past the cleansing of the nemeton. She would wait no longer.

They arrived below Peter’s window exactly one minute early, but the window was already open. Her keen vision helped her spot Josh easily. He gave the signal for two minutes. They were waiting for the duty nurse to be called to someone’s room so Josh could turn off Peter’s monitors without anyone noticing.

The wait for Josh’s signal felt interminable, though it was less than the two minutes.

Josh nodded and gave the sign that he was about to get Peter out of the bed.

When it was obvious Josh was ready to, Matt whistled, the sound very bird-like. Then a body was dropping straight down. Matt caught the blanket-wrapped form with what seemed like ease, but he issued a faint grunt of pain.

Josh was supposed to leave the burn unit immediately and return to work to avoid suspicion, so she took it on faith that he stuck to the plan and didn’t spare the hospital a glance.

“Shoulder,” Matt hissed.

They’d prepared for this. Dot took Peter and set him on the ground, able to tell at a glance which shoulder was dislocated. She braced the left shoulder then yanked on the arm, feeling the pop as the shoulder went back into place.

Dot gathered Peter into her arms, letting Matt take point again while his shoulder healed. She was certain he’d likely cracked a few ribs as well, but werewolf bones were hard to break and quick to heal. The same was probably true for Peter; he might have dislocations or minor breaks, but everything would be healed soon.

They got to the van quickly, and Dot got into the back bench seat with Peter’s blanket-wrapped body in her arms.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Welcome home, darling boy. Welcome home.”

* * *

Dot paced the kitchen, annoyed that she’d been evicted from Peter’s room. Her hands curled and uncurled, wanting to pop claws and violently rend things. “I know you’re there,” she finally snapped.

Leah entered the room and put the kettle on. “I know you want nothing more than to be there taking his pain right now, but Jesse needs to concentrate.”

“If Peter wakes up, he could come up swinging.” She gave a mirthless chuckle. “Or clawing, as the case may be.”

“Do you really believe Booker can’t handle one injured werewolf?” Leah asked mildly. Booker’s role in the healing was mostly power amplification. Jesse’s gift was healing, but he didn’t have the power to call upon that Booker did.

Dot sighed and sat at the table, letting Leah fuss around with the tea service. “Why did you come here? Why help us?”

“Once I heard there was a nemeton and possibly a corrupt druid involved, it became a matter of duty.”

“Booker said you don’t like him.”

“It’s not a matter of like or don’t like. Booker has lived a long life and become indifferent to others. My calling is such that I don’t have the luxury of indifference.”

“Or perhaps he’s done his duty for over a hundred years and has earned some indifference.”

“Perhaps,” Leah allowed. She set the tea and biscuits on the table then stepped close to Dot. “May I?” She held up her hands.

Dot frowned. “May you what?”

“Just a little something to help ease the stress.” She grinned. “Not Booker’s method of stress relief.”

Rolling her eyes, Dot nodded, curious what the shaman would do.

Leah touched her hands to either side of her head. Dot suddenly felt like she’d just taken a hot bath, read a good book, and had a full night’s sleep. Not in a physical sense, but in the way she was eased.

“What was that?”

Leah shrugged and sat down. “Shamanic gifts. A blessing, if you will. I can bring your spirit respite.”

Dot considered that for a few seconds. “Thank you. For the spiritual Valium but, more importantly, thank you for coming here and helping with something that wasn’t your fight.”

“Ah, well, I could argue that the nemeton truly was my fight. I just didn’t know it until I crossed the ward boundary. But you’re welcome all the same.”

“Will you be leaving?”

“You mean because the nemeton is cleansed and I’m not needed for the healing?”

Dot nodded and sipped her tea.

“No. I’ll be staying for a while for Stiles. And Noah for that matter. Stiles has a great destiny in front of him. I believe the new nemeton is going to call out to him when it’s fully healed, and that’s a great burden for one so young. He needs to heal; his father needs to as well. The kind of healing they need is my area.”

“Whatever you need, then, I can provide it. If you’d like to continue to stay at my other house, you’re more than welcome.” The house she’d set up for Peter was unknown to anyone outside their circle. When the police began looking for the missing patient, they might come to her home in town, but they’d never find Peter there.

“I’ll take you up on that. Thank you.” She gave Dot a speculative look. “You’re truly doing all right without a pack bond, aren’t you?”

“I have Peter. I know who I am, have done for a long time. I’m too old to start gnawing on the populace simply because my alpha died.”

“You are a woman of uncommon strength, Dorothy Miller.”

She smiled faintly. “I could say the same.” Getting to her feet, she stretched the kinks out of her back. “I need to check on Matthew.”

“He’s fine. All injuries healed and he’s eaten. He’s simply waiting for his partner to be finished with his shift.”

To avoid suspicion, Josh was going to finish out his shift and work the next couple of shifts as well to catch any gossip about Peter’s disappearance. “I think I’ll check on him just the same.”

Leah smiled faintly. “Of course. He’s your pack.”

She found Matt in the back yard, staring out at the preserve. She’d chosen this location because of the privacy and the access to the preserve in case someone needed to go for a run, particularly Peter, who would need to hide for some time.

“How are you?”

He just nodded. After a long silence, he said, “I miss the pack, miss Pete.” He glanced at her. “I’m glad he’s here, but I had no idea how bad the burns were. Why hasn’t he healed?”

“I don’t know. Pack bonds breaking could have slowed things down. There could be Rowan ash in the wounds or even wolfsbane or mistletoe.” Dot knew more than she wanted to about how hunters kept wounds from healing. “Jesse and Booker will figure it out.”

He nodded.

“You staying out here?”

Another nod was her answer.

“I think I’ll wait with you until we can see Peter.”

Time ticked by slowly. Josh arrived home a couple of hours later and joined them outside. The urge to shift and run in the preserve was strong, but they resisted, waiting for news.

It was a mere hour from dawn when Booker joined them, waving them all back into their seats. “Let’s talk before you go up.” He sat next to her, looking exhausted. “Jesse’s done what he can in one session, but it’s going to take several. He’ll need a full day of rest before trying again. Regardless, I don’t think Peter will wake up for at least a few days yet.”

“Why is he in a coma?” Dot asked.

“Leah might be of help with that. I didn’t expect her to be needed for the healing, but I think that has a lot to do with the broken bonds.”

Dot nodded, not really surprised by that. The memory of that pain was visceral and profound.

“There were traces of Rowan ash in his wounds, which inhibited healing. Fortunately, no wolfsbane, but the only way to get that ash out of the burns, which are partially healed, was to purge them magically. I had to basically reinforce his coma to ensure extraction of the ash wasn’t torture.”

“How do you purge the ash?” Josh asked, looking horrified.

“Simplistically, I summon the ash using a spell. The ash is an earth element, so it’s easy for me to command. If it’s trapped in his skin, it gets ripped away. It’s probably like getting really deeply exfoliated but from the inside.”

Dot cringed at the idea.

“The burns will begin to heal now, though that will be slow.”

“Will Jesse be helping with that?”

“After he’s worked through all the internal damage, assuming there are still burns left to deal with when he gets there.”

“Internal damage,” Dot repeated dumbly.

“Particularly his brain. Which is contributing to his coma. But Jesse is confident he can help, and I’ll be here as well.”

Dot nodded and gestured to Matt and Josh. “You two should go see him and then get some sleep.”

Matt gave her a concerned look but got to his feet and went inside without saying anything.

“You okay?” Josh asked.

“Yeah.” She reached for his hands and squeezed them. “You boys did so amazingly well. Thank you.”

Josh nodded. “Pete’s pack. Family. And so are you, Dot. Even if you decided to be alphaless.” He smiled at her and then went inside.

Booker kept watching her but didn’t say anything.

“You look tired,” she finally said.

“I’m beat.”

“You should get some sleep, then.”

He continued to watch her.

“You’re watching me like a combustible substance.”

“You’ve always been combustible, Dot. But I know you’re more like C4, not nitro. I’m not worried about you going off unexpectedly.”

“Then what are you worried about?”

He shook his head and got to his feet. “I’m going to get some sleep. Do you want me to give you some space tonight?” He glanced at the slowly lightening sky. “This morning?”

“You’re welcome in my bed, Booker, though I may not rest until tonight. Sleep well.”

To her surprise, he pressed a hard, fierce kiss to her mouth on his way past.

* * *

Dot didn’t even bother sitting on the chair by the bed, she sat on the mattress by Peter’s hip, taking his hand, the one with fewer burns, into both of hers. She could sense a little pain thrumming through him and focused on pulling it away. Considering how little there was, she assumed Josh and Matt had handled the pain when they’d visited.

“Hey, baby boy. I’m sorry it took so long. There were more than a few obstacles thrown in our way, but I’ll never leave you behind. You’ve been mine from the moment your father first handed you to me, though I graciously shared you with your parents when I absolutely had to.” She smiled and reached up and stroked his unburned cheek. “I’m sure Josh and Matt filled you in on some things, but just in case, most of the non-family members made it. I’ve relocated them to other packs. Most of them with Satomi.

“Matt and Josh are ostensibly in Jason Chen’s pack, along with Kristen and Kyle, but they’ve been here most of the time, helping me get you home. Of your family, Laura, Derek, and Cora made it. Laura took Derek away. I don’t know where they’ve gone. Derek doesn’t want to be with her, but he didn’t feel he had a choice. I think he was falling on his sword to keep the new alpha stable. Cora’s alive too; she was hiding in the woods. Jason is taking care of her, and I talk to her a couple of times a week. I know she’s going to want to be here now that you’re home, but I think it should wait until you’re awake.”

She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then looked back at his precious face. “Or maybe I just don’t know how to deal with her needs right now. I love that kid, but she is a kid. Maybe it’ll be good for you to have her here. I’m babbling.” She smiled ruefully. “I think I’ll wait for you to wake up and decide if you have the energy for an angry and grieving ten-year-old girl. I’ve got a plan, sweetheart, but I’m not sure if you’re going to be on board with it. If you hate it, we’ll figure out something else. I’ll do whatever it takes to get us past this.”

A memory from Peter’s childhood flashed through her mind. “Do you remember when I’d read Lord of the Rings to you when you were a child? I always thought it was interesting that your favorite character was Gimli, followed by Sam, of course. Both characters of incredible strength and loyalty. I’m reminded of something Gimli said, ‘Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens.’ I want you to know that no matter how dark the road, I will never leave you behind.”

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I know you’re hurting and grieving, but we’re here waiting when you’re ready to come home. We’ll walk this dark road with you, sweet boy.”

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