Ricky sucked air through her teeth, and she was suddenly herself again. A smug smile on her face. “I spent some time consulting with another Crossroads this morning.”
“Which one?” Lu asked.
She winced. “Nick.”
“You talked to your dad?” Lu said.
Ricky leaned over the porch rail and spit down into the grass. “I can deal with assholes if they give me the answers I need.”
“Did he?” I asked.
She nodded. “Eventually.”
“So,” I said, “you have a plan for how to keep the werewolves, hunters, and the rest of us from killing each other as soon as we’re clear of neutral ground?”
“I do.”
“Does it involve magic?” Lu asked.
She bent at the waist, a bit of a bow, a bit of a performance. “Of course it does, my Lu-lala. All the best things do.”
Chapter Fifteen
It took most of the day to pull everything together. The wolves got into a few arguments, but weirdly, let themselves be shouted down by Elmer, who called them all dumbasses and reminded them they were on the same side, trying to rescue the Moon Rabbit.
It was also Elmer who first rolled up his sleeve to let Ricky mark him with magic.
“How long is it gonna last?” Elmer asked.
We’d all moved out into the great room, werewolves sprawled on the couches, the floor, leaning on the walls, perched on the deep windowsills. Pamela had taken up the assistant position, helping Ricky spread out artist brushes, pens, and inkwells she’d retrieved from one of the many rooms.
Lu and I were closest to the doorway, her hip leaned back against mine, my arms dropped around her, fingers hooked into her belt loop. It positioned us the farthest from the hunters, something we’d done on purpose.
“Should last until dawn. Maybe a little less,” Ricky said. “Depends on the group and how much strain is put on the bindings.”
“Wait.” Elmer pulled his arm away from Ricky’s brush. “Talk me through it.”
“This,” Ricky held a delicate brush in her big mitt, an inkwell in the other, “is the magic of this neutral ground. Once you all carry my mark,” she wiggled the paintbrush, “we will be connected, all of us to each other, through me, through this land. It might be uncomfortable at first.”
“Pain?” Elmer sniffed. “I’m not afraid of pain.”
“No, it’s not that kind of pain,” Ricky said. “Some of you might feel other people’s feelings or moods much more strongly than you’d like. Sometimes—it’s rare, but sometimes—thoughts will spike through the connections, and you’ll know what someone is thinking…or what several dozen people are thinking.”
“We have pack bonds,” Danube noted. “We’re already connected.”
“We don’t need it,” a dark-haired Kearney woman agreed.
There was a rise and fall of agreement.
“This is deeper than pack bonds,” Ricky said. “Do I need to remind you that we are not all in the same pack?”
Several of the wolves snorted and snarled at the idea of being tied to another pack.
Ricky shrugged. “I’m not asking you to like it. I’m just telling you the Hush know your connections. They know how to smother them. They know how to confuse you and lead you into danger.
“My magic is built out of things the Hush can’t touch, can’t control, can’t break. You’re going into their territory. Their nest. They have all the advantage. This is the best way, the only way I know how, to give you an upper hand.”
“Well, that and Rooroo dust,” Elmer said. “I suppose we can scrub the mark off as soon as the rescue’s done?”
