Free [Southern Arcana 3.0] Deadlock by Moira Rogers

something in there they need to hide.”
    The handle of his door, which had withstood years of abuse, bent under his fingers. “I need to get in there. Now . What sort of magical protection can you give me?”
    “Make you quicker, harder to hit. The usual.” Jackson opened his door as well. “Let’s go, and any casters in there, you leave to me.”
    The house was situated in a quiet neighborhood, one where any sort of loud, protracted fight would be sure to garner police response. They’d have to hit fast and hard, and keep the carnage to a minimum. If things escalated beyond that, it would be ugly—or one more favor Alec owed McNeely.
    His partner slowed as he approached the side of the house and held out one hand, as if testing the air. “Here. Past this point, there’s no hiding us.” He closed his eyes and whispered. Alec couldn’t understand the words, but he recognized them.
    With the last syllable, power coursed through him, smashing into the magic that made him a shapeshifter. For one tense moment energy buzzed through him, raising the hair on the back of his neck. It settled with a snap, flooding his limbs with lazy strength. The duration of the spell always varied, but the results were the same. As a shapeshifter, he was fast. Enhanced by magic, he was untouchable.
    Now all they had to do was get in. “Around back?”
    Jackson nodded and hurried through the invisible barrier toward the back door.
    It slammed open to reveal two large men in quiet discussion. One shouted a warning and swung at Jackson, while the other lunged for Alec.
    With magic curled around him, the rest of the world moved in slow motion. He pivoted before the meaty fist could connect with his jaw and used the shifter’s own momentum to help him through the still-open door.
    Jackson landed two good punches on the other, then shoved him at Alec. “Don’t dawdle,” he called back as he ran through the open doorway and down the long hallway.
    A hard slug across the jaw dropped the second man, but by the time he hit the floor the first was back, pissier than before. Alec dispatched him in the same manner, wincing slightly when his knuckles split against a jawbone harder than a slab of marble.
    Crashing sounds from deeper within the house led him to a narrow hallway where Jackson was bent over a man on the floor, punching him between terse words. “Don’t—get—back—up.”
    The man had been guarding a door, so Alec kicked it in. The shattered wood rebounded against the unfinished wall and smashed into his shoulder as he shoved into the room.
    He caught a glimpse of a startled woman with gray hair woven into beaded braids, and then she literally vanished in a pulse of magic that shook the room.
    Someone whimpered, and he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.
    Carmen. She was huddled in on herself, shaking with terror…and something else. Power.
    To his heightened senses, Carmen felt like a wolf. Weak, traumatized, but a shapeshifter, not a human.
    She sensed him or smelled him or something . Her body went stiff for a moment, and she scrambled to hide behind a freestanding shelving unit loaded with paint cans.
    Jackson stomped in. “The magic’s dissipated, but there’s a hell of an echo in—” He stopped and stared at Carmen’s balled-up form. “Shit, is that her?”
    “Yes.” Her fear scraped Alec’s nerves as he concentrated on pushing out a wave of comforting energy. “What the fuck was going on here, Holt?”
    “I don’t know. Until a minute ago, this room was shielded more than the whole rest of the house.”
    She still hadn’t moved. Alec waved Jackson back and sank into a crouch. “Carmen, sweetheart. You’re all right.”
    She looked at him and away, a quick glance with no eye contact, making sure he kept his distance. The only visible effect his words had was a slight crinkling between her eyebrows, as if she was trying to discern his meaning.
    Jackson leaned down slowly, just enough to speak low