Where A Witch Goeth

Chapter Thirty-Nine: High Stakes

Lycombe—the werewolf community—was not like I expected. If I had expected anything at all, I supposed I thought it would be like the rustic hide-out Nick had me taken to. The only thing about Lycombe that resembled that place was its remoteness. Like the hideout, it was a secure, extremely remote compound that was difficult to reach.

Unlike the safe-house cabins, Lycombe was ballin'.

"I guess bootleggin' really pays the bills," I muttered as what had been a well-hidden dirt road transitioned into a newly paved entrance to Lycombe, complete with a guard shack. It reminded me very much of the entrance to exclusive neighborhoods in the mountains a hundred years into the future. My suspicion was that Nick had designed his little wolfpack town with one of those affluent, modern mountain hideaway neighborhoods in mind. Probably instead of a golf course, the houses were all situated on a large preserve to accommodate the pack's hunting needs.

"For now. Prohibition won't last forever," Evander observed as we puttered to a stop at the guard shack.

If the situation hadn't been so dire, I might have probed into Evander's prediction, merely from intellectual curiosity. He was right, of course—Prohibition would be repealed in the 1930's. I wondered about the basis of Evander's prediction—if he was a student of politics, or perhaps it was just his long life that assured him of the impermanence of social trends. As it was, there was no time to pick his fascinating brain. Two unfamiliar wolves bristled as they looked down the long line of cars.

"No way," one of them said, and I noticed they were both careful not to look Evander directly in the eye. "It was supposed to be you, your lady, and your War Chief only."

Van laughed at him. "They're mundanes. Are you telling me you're afraid of a few humans?"

The werewolves conferred. "We're gonna have to search the cars for weapons."

"Fine," Van said breezily. He turned to me and gave me a smile, but his eyes narrowed and he rolled them meaningfully back toward the guards.

"Well, I'm gonna have a smoke while we wait for them to search all the mundanes," I said. "Can I have one, Sweetie? And the lighter?"

Van smiled serenely and supplied both, but he picked one of the "special" cigarettes I had noticed Maeve smoking at the speak and had bummed without her knowledge, via magical means.

I hopped out of the Durant and hurried over to the guard shack on the pretense of using the building to shield the light. The wolves knew better than to look Evander in the eyes, but they did not have the same respect for my power. They watched me carefully. So carefully that I was able to blow the smoke of Maeve's "special blend" into the faces. By priming them with her herb blend and adding my own charm on top, I was able to bespell them as easily as a vampire could glamour them.

"You searched the cars. They are clean. You—blonde guy—call Kid and tell him so," I gestured to the phone in the guard shack as I carefully stubbed the cigarette and pocketed the rest of it in case it was needed again.

I hopped back in the cherry red speedster, and Van gave me admiring smile. "Nice work. I think I'm going to like being with a witch after all."

I patted his granite jaw. "Awww. It's so cute when mean ole grumpy vampires have big giant changes of heart."

He gave me a fangy sneer that barely hid his grin as we cruised up the curvy boulevard of the Lycombe community. Yes, it looked very much like a modern mountain community. Much of the natural woods remained. The large, comfortable brick homes were pocketed into the woods, but their lawns were cleared of trees and immaculately maintained. Van pointed out which one he thought was the Alpha's, based on the cars in the drive, but he led the caravan further up the steep road, stopping in front of what looked like a cross between a small hotel and the clubhouse of a modern community.