Words of Power (Alice Gray Book 3)

32

First things first. Regroup at a cheap hotel – check.

Get Anne to meet us without giving ourselves away – working on it.

It took us fifteen minutes to power walk to the nearest Travelodge. The boys were exhausted, the hell-dust, near-death experience having taken its toll despite their supernatural resilience. I was still buzzing from the residual silver magic in my system, but that would only last so long, and the hangover would be a killer.

We needed to get to a bed before the backlash of magical exhaustion crippled me. The last thing we needed was the guys looking like a pair of knuckleheads dragging an unconscious woman back to their room.

But what then?

We had to stay put in York. My best chance was still to rock up at my trial in the morning and plead for my life.

Who knew? We might get a few sympathetic souls who could find it in themselves to take pity on a poor ignorant witch, brought up outside of the covens and therefore unable to be held accountable for her so-called crimes.

A life on the run might sound exciting in the movies, but I could hardly ask my pack to come with me. Constantly moving, looking over our shoulders for assassins, it wasn't any kind of life, and I knew that it wouldn't be enough for me, or for them.

After what we'd seen regarding inter-species experimentation, the DPA would not just let us go. And that was before we'd factored in the vamps and shifters. Two groups of highly skilled trackers and organised killers who held me responsible for the deaths of their royalty. We wouldn't stand a chance.

I was going to stand trial all right, but I was going to weigh the chances in my favour another way.

Evan called Anne from the payphone in the hotel's lobby while Sam and I waited around the side of the building. In ten minutes she was there, complete with her wonderful Gray magic of persuasion that we were going to use to get a room without a credit card.

No need to lead them straight to us. We were dealing with a government institution. Cards could be traced.

Sam and I discreetly shimmied into the elevator area using the extra key card that Anne and Evan had acquired when booking in as 'a couple in town for a wedding'. Not that the underpaid and overworked hotel staff cared who was coming and going from the budget hotel. But that didn't mean that they wouldn't spill their guts for a tenner from the first DPA agent who came by here.

We needed to be as inconspicuous as possible, and that wasn't easy in a prison jumpsuit covered in black gunk. At least it didn't stink anymore.

Much.

Once into the room, the haste with which I tore the thing off would have been funny under any other circumstances. But any sort of modesty would be false with these guys, and nobody batted an eyelid, except Sam, who let out a strangled cough before heading into the bathroom.

"For God's sake, you two. How did you function before your were in the bloody pack?" Anne asked after an uncomfortable pause.

I stared at Evan, not quite sure how to start now that Lucas was gone. When we both sat down on the bed and sighed in unison, Anne's eye-roll was so exaggerated that I couldn't help the giggle that bubbled out.

As soon as it happened, I felt something release in my brain for the first time since that demented vampire monk ambushed us at the guesthouse. The chemical imbalance in my body caused by pure fear was finally washed away on the wave of my laughter.

It cleared my mind enough for me to assess my situation without Lucas's input. The first thing that slammed in there was concern for Emily. But I knew that she'd be ok. I could feel her gaining strength with every passing minute.

The next thing was the trial. Anxiety crept all over my skin like a million baby spiders hatching and running for cover. But there wasn't any cover for me. I needed to face this head on, and there was far too much to do to prepare by tomorrow.

I needed to prioritise and delegate.

I needed to make a list.

And most of all, I needed a bloody nap.

Luckily I had two talented witches at my disposal. Between us, we could figure out the written charm that Jennet Device had used to control the outcome of the Pendle Witch Trials.

"What makes you think we'd be able to replicate this spell if the entire Northern Coven couldn't do it," Anne asked, her eyebrows drawn tightly together, lips pursed into a small, tense pout.

"Maybe they didn't know what they had," I said.

"What, you think that Evelyn Gray was not aware of exactly what was hidden in the archive that she controlled as coven leader in the nineteen-twenties?"

"Okay, okay. But I know something that she didn't," I said, waggling my eyebrows for effect.

The pillow that was aimed at my head from Evan's direction narrowly missed when I ducked, and hit a naked Sam as he vacated the shower.

"Don't you dare think about sneaking in there before you tell us what you know," Evan said, a deep rumble of amusement quickly dying in his throat as he finished his thought. "Time is ticking away from us Alice, we need to get working on this."

"You know that she comes to me in my dreams, right?"

"Jennet?"

"Yeah. Well I've seen some more of her history over the last couple of days. And there's something else. Or someone else, I should say."

"You're not trying to break up with us here, Alice. Spit it out for heaven's sake," Anne said.

Her choice of words was annoyingly apt for what I was about to say.

"I had an experience," I started, the words coming out quieter than I intended.

"And?" Anne snapped.

"An out-of-body experience," I finished, unable to look any of them in the eye, as I felt the heat burn my cheeks.

I don't know why I was so embarrassed about it. They'd accepted that my ancestors lived out their memories in my dreams. What was so different about me rising up and conversing with the Gods?

Oh yeah. Maybe it was that said God was an arrogant surfer dude called Brad.

Will this be a step too far for Alice's faithful friends? Read on...