Devils & Thieves (Devils & Thieves #1)(34)

Crowe didn’t bother knocking on Flynn’s front door, and he knew the invocation to open it. Once he grunted the word out, the door creaked open and Crowe strolled inside.

“Flynn has a barrier spell on his house?”

Crowe glanced at me over a shoulder. “Yeah. We had to buy them at a premium because your dad bailed on us.” His look said it all—he thought I could do this kind of magic if I practiced… and he clearly thought I owed my allegiance to the Devils. He didn’t seem the slightest bit put off by my scowl. “Speaking of, you should strengthen your perimeter protection and change the invocation. The barrier at your place is weak, and I knew the password on the first guess.”

I rolled my eyes. “Did you and my dad compare notes?”

Crowe ignored me and stepped into the living room. I ran right into his back when he pulled up short.

“What is it?” I said, and followed him through the doorway.

As soon as the heavy cigar smoke and autumn leaves scene hit me, I knew. Slowly, I leaned around Crowe.

From the entryway, the room had looked like a normal living room. Couch. Coffee table. Empty beer cans on the floor. A TV on the wall.

Now we were standing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by wolves.

“Crap,” I whispered.

“Yep,” Crowe said.

We both knew it was an illusion. We were standing inside Flynn’s house, after all, and half the time you just couldn’t trust your senses around the guy. But while illusions weren’t real, and even less real when you knew they were there, they could still feel real. If the wolves were so inclined to eat us alive, we’d feel every bit of that pain.

“Don’t move,” Crowe said.

The pines rustled as the wind kicked up. The scent of the sap on the air and the earth beneath my feet overwhelmed the smell of the magic itself. I could smell the muskiness of the wolves, hear the vibration of their snarls in the backs of their throats.

Crowe stretched a hand out, then snapped it closed, and the wolf closest to us crumbled into a whimpering heap. Three more wolves took its place. Crowe took out another, and another three wolves appeared.

“Okay, so don’t kill the wolves,” I said.

“Goddamn it, Flynn!” Crowe shouted.

A giant gray wolf crept closer, its lips pulled back, baring its fangs. It snarled, tensed, and leapt.

Crowe lunged in front of me and the wolf clamped down on his forearm, sinking its fangs into his flesh. Blood splattered the speckled gray fur at the wolf’s throat and Crowe hissed. A black wolf charged toward me, but I pivoted at the last second and it barreled past me.

A third wolf—a roan female—nipped at Crowe’s free arm while he struggled to free himself from the gray.

“Barrier, Jemmie!” he shouted.

“What?” I scanned the woods, looking for something to use as a weapon.

“Use a goddamn barrier spell!”

The desperation in his voice sliced my fear at the seams. Relying on reflex and instinct, I dropped to one knee and slammed my hand into the dirt. The magic left me like a great wave crashing over stone, spreading out in all the spaces in between. The barrier mushroomed up and around us, blue and glittering like a firecracker. I nearly choked on the astringent fumes of it. I could barely see through its sapphire ribbons twisting in the air around my body.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, and sudden dizziness made me pitch forward. Crowe was next to me in an instant, his hands on my shoulders, keeping my face from hitting the floor. Just beyond our little bubble of protection, the curse-wolves snapped and snarled.

A light flicked on overhead. The wolves disappeared. The woods faded into the walls of the living room and Flynn stood over us, blinking against the light.

“What the hell are you two doing on the floor?”

Crowe examined his arm. The skin was still whole, the flesh unmarred. All the blood that had covered him a second ago was gone.

Crowe closed his eyes, panting. “You asshole.”

“What?” Flynn said, and shrugged. He dropped into his easy chair and lit a cigarette. “You said we needed extra precautions, what with all these other clubs in town. So,” he spread his hands out, “extra precautions.”

Crowe held his arm to his chest, like it still ached from the phantom bite. “I could kill you right now.”

“It’ll fade in a few minutes.”

“I could still kill you.”

Flynn laughed. “But you won’t. It’s six in the morning. Who wants to take care of a body at six in the morning? Not I, I tell you. Of course, I’d be the body in question, so…”

I stood up and held out a hand to Crowe. He ignored it and climbed to his feet.

“What’s this about anyway?” Flynn took a hit off his cigarette. Smoke curled in the air.

“Can’t find Alex, and she’s not returning anyone’s calls or texts.” Crowe perched himself on the arm of the couch and leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“Well, she was pretty pissed at you—”

“I know. And I don’t care. Have you seen her?”

“Not since last night.”

“When?”

“She left the festival around ten with that boy, you know?”

Crowe gritted his teeth. “No, I don’t know. If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”