Jack sneered at me. "What do we need a tag for? My pack is the only one in Low Town."

I shrugged, slouching in the booth. "You're the only werewolf pack in Low Town, but you're not the only shifters. I thought you'd want a little something to proudly proclaim that you and your members are of the local wolf pack. Anyway, you'd need it if you ever traveled into another's territory."

Jack made some noncommittal noise, not looking up at me, but the other werewolf was watching me now. I vaguely remembered him as Jack's caretaker when the alpha had been indisposed. He was probably Jack's second in command.

"What kind of ink were you thinking?" he asked hesitantly.

At the same time a server approached, placing a fresh bowl of sausages on the table before setting a plate, silverware wrapped in a linen napkin, and a frosted mug in front of me. I hadn't planned to stay for food and I wasn't a big fan of German fare. The smell from the bowls in front of me was starting to make my stomach growl. It was getting late in the day and I had yet to eat anything.

"You got a pen I can borrow?" I asked, looking up at the server.

She smiled at me as she dug in her pocket and pulled out a black ballpoint. "Anything else?"

"Nope. Thanks."

Spreading out my napkin over my empty plate, I clicked the pen and started sketching as fast as my brain could work. In the center, I created a stylized L and T, then placed it within a large tree that had its branches and roots spread about a larger circle. "Being the Low Town pack and proud of that, you definitely need an L and T within the tattoo. Personally, if I see one more werewolf with a full moon or wolf howling as his pack tattoo, I think I'll puke. It's old, predictable, and been done to f.u.c.king death. What I'd like to see you do is have the letters carved into a large oak tree. The oak is a symbol of strength, power, and virility. Kings are a.s.sociated with the oak. The roots would represent your long, proud history, and the limbs represent your strength and your reach across Low Town."

As I finished the description, I lifted the napkin and turned it around on the plate so that Jack and his pack mate could see it clearly. It wasn't my best work, but it wasn't bad for a quick sketch on a linen napkin. Freddie even leaned forward a little to look at it.

"And you don't put this on your chest or arm," I said, dragging their eyes back to me. "It goes on the side of your neck. That way everyone can see it at all times. Everyone knows that you're a member of the Low Town Pack."

"That's pretty cool," said the pack member, his gaze dancing over the design.

Jack's frown returned and he focused back on his plate, digging into the food with more force. "No."

"But-"

"Drop it, Dave," Jack snapped. "You know we can't."

I folded the napkin and placed it next to the werewolf called Dave. Grabbing my fork, I stabbed one of the sausages and took a bite. It tasted fantastic, going a long way toward settling the complaints of my stomach. "Who could stop you?" I asked around bites.

Dave directed his attention to his food. Jack paused before looking up at me. Hatred blazed in his brown eyes that held a hint of yellow from the line of werewolf flowing through his veins. For the first time, I didn't think that anger and hatred were directed at me.

"Reave," I said softly. Jack gave a grunt as he grabbed his mug and drained it. To my surprise, he picked up the pitcher and filled my mug before refilling his own. "Why?"

The silence stretched for a couple minutes, until I was sure that I wasn't going to get an answer, but Jack unclenched his jaw and spoke.

"I might be the alpha, but Reave considers the pack his. He has for as long as he's been in Low Town. A long time ago, he killed off the pack members that had tags and declared there would be no more clan tagging in Low Town. I think he's afraid that the tag would mean that our loyalty belongs to something other than him."

Finishing off my sausage, I stabbed another and munched on it as I sat back, thinking. "So, if Reave wasn't around . . ." I said, letting my voice drift off.

Jack let out a bark of laughter, the last of the anger leaving his face. "Yeah, when pigs fly. It's a nice thought, but you've got to remember, we know your secret, magic man. You can't use your hocus-pocus on him or us, and that's the only way you're going to get rid of someone like Reave."

I leaned across the table, an evil grin spreading across my face. "Can't, huh? How'd that work out for you?"

The laughter left Jack's eyes and he glared at me again. "Yeah, well, I doubt turning Reave into an ankle-biter is going to get rid of him."

I sat back, finishing off my second sausage while debating taking a third. Freddie turned to look at me, a worried expression across his ugly face.

"You can't do that to Mr. Reave, Gage," Freddie warned. "He said the Towers would kill you if you use magic. Mr. Reave also has a lot of protection like ogres and trolls and that dark elf magic."

"It's okay, Freddie," I said, patting him on the shoulder, trying to rea.s.sure him. "We're just talking. That's all. It's just talk."

"Yeah, Freddie, we don't mean anything by it," Dave added. Some of his long brown hair slid over one shoulder to cast his friendly face in shadow.

"Head up to the bar, Moose," Jack snapped, dropping his fork on his plate with a loud clatter. "We need some fresh drinks. Get some steins of Dunkle."

Freddie nodded, a smile on his face again. I slid out of the booth, letting Freddie out.

When I returned to the booth, Jack sat back, watching the large man walk away. "Freddie's a good guy, but he doesn't know how to keep his f.u.c.king mouth shut. The Dunkle will keep him busy for at least ten minutes. What are you thinking, warlock?"

I arched a brow at him. "How can I trust you? You said Reave owns your pack."

Jack shrugged, his thick arms folded over his chest. "The pack does what it's told and he ain't said nothing about keeping you in line. Reave's handling that personally along with his trolls. What's changed that you suddenly feel free to use your magical mojo?"

"All bets are off now that the Towers are p.i.s.sed and Reave's behind it."

Jack straightened and even David was watching me intently now. "What are you talking about? Indianapolis?" Jack demanded in a low voice.

I nodded. "Reave has something they want and they're going to do a lot worse than Indianapolis if they don't get it back soon. If they find out he's in Low Town, the city and everyone in it are going to be dust."

Both men looked ill as they sat staring at me. Dave recovered first. "Where does that leave you? Are you going to use Reave to get back into the Towers?"

"I have no intention of ever going back there, but I can do without Reave. This whole town could do without that b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Shifting my gaze to Jack, I smirked. "The pack could too."

"Yeah," Jack muttered, staring at his half-empty mug. "What do you need?"

"Where's Reave hiding?"

Jack and Dave exchanged a look, leaving the second in command giving a small shrug. The alpha turned back to me, glaring at me through narrowed eyes. "If Reave's gone, where does that leave the pack?"

"Firmly in your hands, for all I care. I want out of this mess. Bronx too."

"Fine with me," Jack said with a careless wave of his hand. "He's hiding out on the west side. He's got a few warehouses out there. The old paper mill is his current hiding spot, up in the second-floor office. All the windows are blacked out because he's keeping a whole horde of ogres and trolls out there with him. I got the impression that he's waiting for something."

"Sounds like a party," I said as I started to slide out of the bench.

"Wait!" Jack's sharp command stopped me before I could reach my feet. The werewolf leaned across the table, lines of worry and stress digging into his face. "You finish this. If you don't, it's only going to take Reave one conversation with Freddie to find out where you got his location and the whole pack is done. I don't give a d.a.m.n about myself, but I've got family in Low Town. A younger brother and two sisters along with a grandmother too sick to be dragged out if the Towers come here. You finish this."

"I will."

I shoved out of the booth and marched through the restaurant toward the front, my stomach starting to roil around the sausages I had inhaled minutes earlier. They tasted good going down, but the worry over the coming fight and the fear of the Towers was unsettling my stomach. As I pa.s.sed by the bar, Freddie turned toward me, holding four large steins filled with a beer that looked as dark and thick as mola.s.ses.

"You leavin', Gage? I got your beer," he said, looking more than a little worried.

"Sorry, Moose," I said, forcing a smile on my mouth as I patted his shoulder. "I just got an important call and I've got to go. Can you drink it for me?"

His expression immediately brightened. "Sure, Gage. Thanks!"

I chuckled as I waved at Freddie before turning and heading for the door. There was something that I envied about Moose. For him, the great worries of the world were left to smarter men. He was content to shuffle along, following others. Freddie didn't seem to worry about more than his next meal, his next beer, and his bed at end of the day. I could have been wrong about him, but his deep thoughts never showed and the worries that scrunched up his face always faded with a rea.s.suring word from someone he counted as a friend.

If only everything could be that simple. Or maybe not. Life would certainly be less of a headache, but a lot more boring. While I wasn't looking forward to the fight that Reave was offering, there was a part of me that welcomed it. I should have taken care of the dark elf months ago, but fear of the Towers had held me back. Now I was simply more afraid of what the Towers would do if I didn't act.

15.

THE WEST SIDE of Low Town wasn't the prettiest part of town. Crowded with warehouses, steel mills, giant rusting buildings, large courtyards surrounded by metal fences topped with barbed wire, and smoke-belching stacks, the west side was the blue-collar, industrial side of town, while downtown and the east side catered to the corporate side of the city. If my childhood had been spent in Low Town, I would have lived on the east side, but I would have had my fun on the west side.

I knew the Boons & Mills paper plant that Jack had mentioned. The company had moved out of Low Town more than a decade ago and left the city with roughly a thousand fewer jobs. Parked a block from the building, I quickly discovered that many of the workers had shown their anger at the company by spray-painting some not-so-nice things on the sides of the structure and along some of the signs that still lined the sagging metal fence. The windows on the first and second floor had been boarded up. That was likely Reave's doing if he was keeping trolls with him during the daylight hours.

Glancing up as I approached the main gate, I smiled to see the sun shining bright and clear above my head without a cloud in sight. That could come in handy. My target was Reave, but if it came down to his thugs and the safety of Low Town, I'd take the f.u.c.kers down.

As I neared the gate, an ogre approached, a bloodstained meat cleaver clenched in his right fist at his side.

"Go away!" he barked.

"I need to see Reave," I said, keeping one eye on the meat cleaver.

"He's not here. Go away."

I stared at the ogre for a couple seconds, weighing my options. Threatening his comrades in the building was a waste of time, as ogres didn't much care for anyone else beyond themselves and the person who paid them. In fact, ogres didn't respond much to threats in the first place. They needed action.

Unfortunately, ogres were only slightly smaller than trolls, and the a.s.shole in front of me wasn't exactly on the sickly side. I wouldn't be able to overpower him on my best day, particularly with a fence separating us. I'd have to use magic, which I preferred not to use. Of course, if h.e.l.l hadn't fallen on my head over the little scuffle with William a couple hours ago, I figured I had a little time before Gideon beat my a.s.s. Or so I hoped.

Smiling, I stepped forward and wrapped my fingers around the wide mesh of the chain-link fence. I started whispering a river of words that had the ogre frowning and taking a step backward. He watched intently as the metal beneath my fingertips started to drip and run as if it were melting. Within a couple seconds, large holes started to appear in the fence. I stopped whispering and gave the fence in my hands a hard jerk. The barrier ripped apart, the section collapsing to the ground with a cheery ring like tiny bells. .h.i.tting concrete.

The ogre recovered from his bespelled wonder and charged me with a roar, raising his meat cleaver high. Heart pumping, I quickly shifted, sidestepping him at the last second so that he flew past me through the opening. I jumped inside the paper yard and waved my hands up in the air. The remains of the fence mended in a flash and wrapped around the ogre, trapping him in a steel net. He fell over with an angry shout, his arms locked against his body as he thrashed about.

Leaning over him, I reached through the chain-link fence and pressed two fingers to the head of the meat cleaver, repeating the words I had uttered before. The metal blade melted like ice cream on a summer sidewalk, soaking into his pants. Sure, he was still far from harmless, but at least he wasn't waving a meat cleaver around like some demented butcher. I could do without any fresh nightmares to haunt me-I already had plenty.

Footsteps across the gravel-covered pavement drew my attention away from my prisoner. His mad-cow bellowing had drawn his companions. Three more ogres were running in my direction, knives drawn. As I desperately scrambled for another defensive spell, my eyes lit on a patch of dirt and fine gravel a couple feet away from me. Running to the patch, I slid beside it, falling to my knees. I scooped up a handful, my short fingernails sc.r.a.ping against the concrete. Muttering another spell that I had never had the chance to work before, I held my hand open before my mouth and blew out a steady stream of air. The wind kicked up at my back, sweeping down across the ground before lifting up into the chests of the approaching ogres.

They slowed as they lifted their arms to shield their eyes. I squeezed my own eyes shut, straining to hear their footsteps over the wind that grew in its ferocity. The spell wasn't strong enough to generate a wind that could stop the ogres, but then I wasn't trying to do that. The scuff of feet on concrete sounded close, but it also sounded as if they were approaching much slower. Someone cursed in a gruff voice before something large hit the ground. Holding my breath, I waited, body tensed. They were d.a.m.n close. I could hear the rustle of their clothes as they moved. A part of me was waiting to feel the ripping of flesh as a knife dug deep.

It wasn't until I heard two more heavy thuds. .h.i.t the ground near me that I breathed a sigh of relief. I murmured a few words and lowered my hands to the ground as if I was pressing the air to the earth. The wind slowed and died down.

Lifting the collar of my T-shirt, I ducked my face inside, wiping my eyes with the interior of the shirt before daring to open them. Two ogres lay on the ground less than three feet away, their snores reverberating through the silent air. The third one was a little farther away, curled up into a ball on his side, while the a.s.s wrapped in the fence had even dozed off. It had been a little closer than I would have liked, but it worked, and so far, no one had been killed.

The spell was called Sandman's Kiss, and I had never worked it before. However, I had used other sleep spells before so I knew the theory behind it. I was also pretty decent at manipulating the weather. It was only a matter of combining a few things to get the Sandman's Kiss working. The dirt on the ground was twisted into a sleep agent and the wind was the delivery method to get it into their eyes. The only problem was that I was f.u.c.ked if I was stupid enough to get it in my eyes.

With a grunt, I rose back to my feet and brushed off my hands on my jeans. The sleep spell lasted roughly an hour on humans and like-size creatures. I was hoping that it would last at least half as long on something the size of an ogre. I couldn't imagine that it would take me that long to locate and deal with Reave. My best chance for handling the dark elf was to catch him by surprise.

Unfortunately, it looked like the shouting ogre had ruined that for me. A heavy metal door screeched as it was pushed open and an ogre leaned out to look around. Spotting me, he frowned, his large brow furrowing so that his eyes were cast in shadow. My steps slowed as I warily approached the building while he watched me.

"You Gage?" he said almost in a grunt.

"Yeah," I called, stopping several feet away with my hands out to my sides, waiting for the attack to come.

The ogre grunted again. "Reave's waiting for you." He moved back into the building but one hand held the edge of the door, propping it open for me. Yeah, I wasn't so comfortable with that. When I entered the dark building, I would be at a disadvantage as my eyes struggled to adjust from the bright sunlight I was currently standing in.

Spreading my legs wide, I reached out with both hands, feeling the power filling my frame as I magically grasped the edge of the door. With a jerk, I pulled it free of both the ogre's grip and the doorframe. The metal door groaned and shrieked as it jumped from the building and flew across the empty yard. The ogre lurched back and I could hear shouting from inside the old paper mill as sunlight poured unexpectedly into its entrance.

I waved one hand at the guard and he stepped back into the shadows as I approached. Pausing just over the threshold, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, trying desperately to discern more than vague shapes of large creatures moving around in the shadows. An increase in the sound of shuffling feet on gritty concrete nearly had me taking a step back in to the yard, but I couldn't backpedal. I needed to take out Reave, or at the very least hand him over to the Towers so that they would stop their madness.

Using the same spell I had called up to rip the door off its hinges, I pushed outward through the building. Sounds of stumbling filled the silence. Large crates fell over and crashed to the ground, and still I pushed until the energy reached the outer walls. Wood creaked and groaned before one board after another flew off the large windows that lined the walls. Loud guttural shouts echoed through the empty building as large squares of light shot through the air to land in regular patches on the floor. The shadows receded, but then so did the dark figures that had been looming in the blackness, waiting for me.

As I stepped onto the main floor of the mill, I found that I was alone except for the ogre who had held the door open. There was some shuffling coming from the deeper shadows near the back of the warehouse and behind some of the large machinery that had never been taken from the building. I didn't see any new giant-size lawn ornaments, to my relief. Apparently none of the trolls had been caught by the light. I didn't mind beating the s.h.i.t out of these a.s.sholes, but I was trying to avoid killing anyone if I could help it. Well, anyone but Reave.

Loud clapping jerked my head up to a second-floor catwalk that looked down on the main floor. Reave was standing overhead, a twisted grin on his thin lips. "Well, this is a surprise. Someone isn't too worried about the Towers, now, is he?"

"Why should I worry about the Towers when you're determined to destroy us all?" I shouted, tapping down the urge to rip him off the catwalk with a surge of energy. I didn't need to. With a hiss, Reave vaulted over the rusted metal railing and landed lightly on his toes right in front of me.

"That's just it. None of us should feel the need to worry about how the Towers will react," he snarled. "You're all power-hungry monsters determined to wipe us from the earth. You need to be stopped."

"Yes, they need to be stopped." I sidestepped him, trying to keep a comfortable distance between us as we circled each other. "But whatever you've got planned is going to get everyone killed when a new war breaks out. That's what you're driving us toward. Not freedom. Just death." I was unarmed except for my magic and Reave was f.u.c.king fast. The meat cleaver I melted earlier was starting to look pretty d.a.m.n good.

"You're afraid-"

"Of course I'm f.u.c.king scared! You're threatening my family and friends. You're threatening millions of people who have never done a d.a.m.ned thing to you."

Reave sprang at me, swinging his fist at my face. I ducked away at the last second, but it was close enough that I could feel the breeze against the tip of my nose. I threw a couple punches at him but never connected. The b.a.s.t.a.r.d was too fast.

Large beefy arms wrapped around my chest from behind, pinning my arms to my sides. The arms squeezed my chest, making it difficult to draw a deep breath. I had forgotten about the ogre who had opened the door for me. He'd snuck up on me while I was busy with Reave.

The dark elf laughed as he came closer, watching me struggle. I kicked out with both feet, hitting Reave in the chest with enough force to send him stumbling backward onto his a.s.s. At the same time I jerked my head back, breaking the ogre's nose when it crashed into his face. The ogre dropped me on a howl of pain as he backpedaled.

Landing easily, I turned in a circle on my toes, waving my arms in the air as I called together large amounts of magical energy. The air crackled and my skin tingled against the charge as I was gathering. This wasn't so much a spell as it was me forcibly moving around energy. Regardless, Gideon was going to put my a.s.s in a sling any second now, but I couldn't stop. As I turned to face the ogre on my second turn, I pushed the energy outward, knocking him on his back and thrusting him out of the building through the open doorway. I continued to spin, turning back to face Reave in time to see him rise to his feet. Throwing my arms out to my sides, I shoved the trolls gathered in the shadows against the wall, leaving me alone to deal with the Svartalfar.

"I want the names of the people you plan to sell the information to," I demanded, taking a step toward the dark elf.

"Information? What information?" he replied with a grin.

"The locations of the Towers. How many do you know?" I didn't care that the trolls and ogres in the area could probably hear me. I would take them all out, destroy the entire building if I had to in hopes of protecting the people of Low Town. And to do that, I had to stop the information that Reave was trying to traffic.

The dark elf's voice was low and cold when he spoke. "All of them. All seven."

I kept my face blank, but inside I breathed a sigh of relief. He was still missing one. Unfortunately, knowledge of even one Tower location was one too many.

With a wave of my hand, I shoved some raw energy at Reave, pushing him across the floor until his back was pressed against a support beam in the middle of the warehouse. His arms were pinned to his sides. Gritting his teeth, he struggled against the spell that held him captive, but he was trapped as long as I could concentrate on holding him to the beam.

"Who are the people trying to buy the information?" I asked again.