Savior's Spell: A fae and fur urban fantasy (Spellcaster Series Book 1)

by Gwen Rivers

  They scattered like roaches when the lights come up.

  My brother groaned. I looked to where his blood stained the back of his black robe. It wasn’t red, but a chalky gray, like wet cement.

  Liam got off his back and came to stand at my side.

  “Kill me,” Malcolm snarled.

  Part of me wanted to. But it was one thing to hurt him when he was a threat. Right now, he wasn’t.

  “Do it, Emma.” He turned on to his uninjured side. His face was a mask of anguish, and I didn’t believe it was all from physical pain.

  Liam met my gaze and held it. In my head I could hear his voice. You decide.

  I crouched down beside Malcolm. The backbone of the dark fae army. If I killed him in front of the fae, how was I any better than he was?

  “You are going to stand trial before the gods,” I said in a voice loud enough to echo throughout the PR. “For your crimes against the forever young.”

  Malcolm sneered and lunged for my leg. Liam snapped at him, his jaws closing inches from my brother’s face.

  I bent closer so only Malcolm and Liam could hear me. “Know this. My brother is dead. You stole something from me that I can never get back.”

  “Your innocence?” he sneered.

  I shook my head. “My faith that good things happen to good people. It was a hard lesson but one I learned well. And I won’t let you take anything more from me. No male will control my destiny. Not you, not anyone. My brother is dead.”

  With that I rose and walked away.

  “Emma!” Kiesha came to stand beside me. Someone had found her an oversized set of sweats and she had them rolled up so she didn’t step on them as she moved.

  I hugged her tightly. “Are you all right? Did they hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “No, Liam got to us in time.”

  “Us?” I glanced up and saw a pretty middle-aged woman who had Kiesha’s thick dark hair and unique cheekbones. And the same mismatched eyes.

  “That’s my mother.”

  I stared into her haunted gaze.

  She held out her hand. “Thank you for looking out for her.”

  “Liam did most of it.”

  The wolf padded up beside me. I saw several members of his pack dragging Malcolm away.

  Liam lay on the ground, looking as though he were having trouble standing up.

  “Liam?” I rushed to his side. “What’s wrong?”

  “He was hurt.” The voice came from a nearby trash can. “We need to get him back to the PR.”

  “Autumn, Gray.” I called out to the two werewolves I knew by name. “Help me.”

  Liam yelped in pain as they picked him up and, with a nod from Fiona, crossed the threshold into the PR.

  She held up a hand to ward me off. “Not you, savior.”

  My lips drew back in a snarl. “What do you mean, not me?”

  Her face held no trace of sympathy. “No spellcasters in the PR.”

  “Seriously? After I just saved your ass? Stopped you from making a terrible mistake?”

  She shrugged. “It was a ploy to get them to reveal themselves, nothing more.”

  “Please, Fiona.” I looked to where Liam had disappeared.

  “I’m sorry, Emma. But it’s not my call. The fae elected me to be their temporary leader and I have to do what is right for them. You and the other spellcasters are too powerful and are more likely to be twisted.” She turned and walked away, leaving me standing alone on the outside.

  I stared at the place where Liam had disappeared.

  Would I ever see him again?

  “They did what?” Liam roared.

  “Calm down or you’ll rip your stitches.” Gray held his shoulders in place while Autumn sewed up the silver-coated cut along his side.

  “I need to go to her. The twisted ones are still out there.”

  “They won’t go after Emma.” Autumn didn’t take her eyes from her work. “Not after she took Malcolm down with a freaking Swiss Army Knife. They know better than to fuck with the savior.”

  “North, keep tabs on her.” Liam was ready to swat them all away like flies. He felt like roadkill and his mate was out in the city, alone.

  “Careful, Liam. We need to be diplomatic about this.” Gray soothed.

  “Fuck diplomacy,” he snarled.

  “Spoken like a career politician,” Autumn tied off the last suture and dropped it into the metal tray. “All right, you can get up now. Just no shifting for a while. Let your body take some time to heal. Eat, rest.”

  Liam was already on his feet.

  “Or ignore me completely. I’m just an EMT, I don’t know anything,” the she-wolf bitched.

  “You can’t get between a dominant male and his mate.” Gray told her. “He won’t be satisfied until he sees her for himself.”

  Liam stalked naked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. His temper writhed like it had a life of its own.

  “She’ll be all right,” North rattled around in his toothbrush holder.

  Liam picked the thing up and hurled it with all his might against the wall.

  “Oh, that was mature.” The sylph transferred into the toilet tank.

  Liam gripped either side of the counter and stared at his face in the mirror. Took in the stubble on his chin, the red-rimmed eyes. She was alive. Out there somewhere. Hurting after what she had been forced to do.

  “Might I suggest,” North spoke slowly. “That you get control of your temper before you go after her?”

  No male will control my destiny. Not you, not anyone.

  “I’m not going after her,” Liam muttered.

  The toilet flushed.

  “Say that again?” North spoke slowly.

  Liam turned away and closed his eyes. “She needs to come to me. When she’s ready.”

  “You are insane, wolf. You know this? Practically killed yourself to save her and now you won’t even chase her?”

  “Emma isn’t prey. I can’t stalk her.”

  “Some women might like knowing they are the center of your thoughts.” North shifted into his blue bathrobe.

  Liam hung his head. “She knows.”

  The question remained. Would she want to do anything about it?

  21

  Three months later…

  Cool air pushed down from Canada as I walked down the familiar street, pack slung over my shoulder. The scent of Italian coffee drifted through the open front door. A line of customers was already in place for the grand opening of Java Have Mercy. The werewolves had one hell of a marketing department.

  Ignoring the line, I turned into the alley and swallowed as I saw the cracked concrete. The blood was long gone, as was my brother. The fae had shipped him off to Asgard for the Norse gods to punish.

  And those bastards knew how to pick punishments that would stick.

  I moved to the side door and tried the knob. Locked. Setting my duffel aside, I used my magic to unlock the door.

  What had once been the kitchen had been converted to storage and an employee lounge. A familiar set of green and blue eyes looked me over. “Well, well. We were wondering when you would show up.”

  “So sure of me?” I asked.

  “Some more than others,” Gray held open his arms and I stepped in for a hug.

  “Where is he?” I asked when I pulled away.

  The werewolf pointed. “Upstairs.”

  I hefted my pack and moved to the steps.

  The creaking was gone as were the holes in the ceiling and gaps in the floor. The entire place gleamed with newness.

  I held my breath as I made my way up to the loft. My heart pounded. Would he be glad to see me? I’d had doubts the entire train ride.

  The loft too had been converted into a studio apartment. A curtain had been hung around the refinished cast iron tub. A shelf stood over the small kitchen sink holding plates and mugs. I peeked inside the wardrobe. The towels and linens Kiesha had stolen from the hotel were gone. A braided rug was laid
out on the floor and there was even a small electric fireplace in one corner. A murphy bed was neatly folded away.

  My guitar case stood in one corner. I reached out and touched the warn clasp. It fit the space well.

  Between the exposed brick and hardwood floors, never mind the prime location, it would make the werewolves a tidy rental profit.

  One quick glance around told me that Liam wasn’t in the room. My gaze fell to the door leading up to the roof. No emotion, not that I would have expected any coming off of him. Some things didn’t change.

  I set my new bag beside the guitar case and took the steps two at a time to the roof. The sun had yet to crest the taller buildings to the east. The streetlamps were off though and Liam was nothing but a dark shape silhouetted against the lightening sky.

  “I scented you coming,” the Alpha said.

  My throat closed up. All the words I’d been practicing left me.

  He turned to face me. “How’s Kiesha?”

  “Okay.”

  “She texts me every day.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “It was nice of you to let them go.” After what Malcolm had put the poor werewolf through, she couldn’t get out of the city fast enough.

  “Kiesha is pack but her mother isn’t. She’s always welcome to join us but I understand if she doesn’t want to.” He studied me closely. “Did you get the full story out of them?”

  “I pieced it together from things they said. Malcolm had been tracking them for years. It seems you aren’t the only one interested in a born werewolf.”

  “What was he going to do with her?” Liam’s gaze held a hint of warning.

  “You’d have to ask him.” I looked away. I’d envisioned this reunion but it wasn’t going at all the way I thought it should.

  “Why are you here, Emma?”

  “You offered me a job.” Okay it was a stupid excuse.

  He knew it too. “You could get a job anywhere. Why come back here?”

  Couldn’t lie. Damn it, why could Malcolm lie and I couldn’t? “Honestly, I don’t know.”

  He turned to face me then, his gaze assessing. “Let me put this another way. Are you still on your mission to hunt the dark fae?”

  I nodded once. “As long as they are a threat.”

  “They’re disorganized. Spread out. My guess is, with the fae holed up in the PR, they aren’t going to last too much longer.”

  He waited. I stared at the rooftop where we had first met.

  “Damn it, Emma.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I tried to let you go.”

  “You were keeping tabs on me through Kiesha.” And possibly North as well. The sylph had popped up in odd places over the last few weeks. I didn’t mention him though in case Liam hadn’t sent him.

  He nodded, completely unashamed. “I had to make sure you were all right. Are you?”

  “Am I all right?” I thought about it for a beat. “No, no I’m not.”

  He made a harsh, guttural sound. “I wanted to come after you but thought you needed time. Was I wrong?”

  “The place looks great.” It was easier to change the subject than to keep skirting the truth. “Especially the apartment.”

  His gaze was more potent than touch. “I did it for you.”

  “Why?” I forced myself to meet his gaze.

  “Because I still have hope. That you would want to live here. Stick to our original deal.”

  “The one where you didn’t ask me about my past?”

  “I won’t ask, but I’m hoping you’ll want to tell me anyway.” He seemed to be holding his breath.

  “I missed you, Liam.” I shrugged, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

  Those multicolored eyes slid closed and his shoulders sagged.

  “You look relieved.”

  “I am. I thought…” He trailed off.

  “What that I didn’t want to see you anymore?”

  “You have your life back now. You can start over anywhere. With someone new. Reinvent yourself.”

  Still offering me an out. Hope bloomed in my chest. “Maybe I don’t want to break anyone else into my crazy. Did you ever think of that?”

  He stared at me.

  “No promises. I’m still healing. I can’t be with you the way Nic and Aiden are or even Gray and Spencer. I’m not ready for that. I might never be. I don’t know if I can give you what you want—”

  “You’re what I want,” the Alpha said with utter conviction.

  “When you look at me like that, I can almost believe it.”

  He reached out a hand for me and after a moment’s hesitation, I took it.

  “This doesn’t mean you’re the boss of me.” I told the Alpha. “Even if you’re my boss and my landlord.”

  He grinned down at our joined hands. “Noted, you like to be on top.”

  ~The End~

  Also by Gwen Rivers

  Preorder Savior’s Hex book 2 in the Spellcaster series!

  Read about Nic and Aiden in The Goodnight Kiss

  About the Author

  Gwen Rivers is the changeling of a USA Today bestselling mystery author. When not writing urban and rural fantasy with kickass heroines, you can find her poring over Norse mythology, dicing with the Fates, cavorting with werewolves or hunting for fairy wine in the deep, dark woods.

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