Witch for the Wolf

by Annabelle Winters

  Magda nodded against his chest, but Caleb knew that nothing was just coincidence when it came to this kind of shit. If there was a secret research facility near the Black Forest of Germany, there was reason it had been set up there.

  And if there was anyone who’d know the reason, it was Benson.

  John Benson.

  “All right,” said Caleb, his jaw tightening as he broke from the embrace and glanced around the cave. His gaze landed on a black rubber dinghy, and he grabbed it and began to drag it out to the water. It would take them about a day to get to the mainland from the island, and after that they’d have to find another means of transport to get to Abu Dhabi in the United Arab Emirates. Benson kept an office there, and even if he wasn’t in town, Caleb would be able to contact him and get him to fly in.

  “All right what?” said Magda. “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going to get to the bottom of this,” he said. “Which means we need to go back to the beginning. To Ground Zero. Where it all began for you.”

  “The Black Forest?” Magda said, the color leaving her face so quickly she almost looked silver in the moonlight. But she wasn’t scared, and in fact the look in her eye almost scared Caleb. He could see the dark power swirling behind her eyes as if this was exactly what that power wanted! Was he making a mistake? Would taking her back to the Black Forest only make the darkness in her more powerful?

  “Yes,” he said, swallowing hard and steeling his resolve. This was the way, he knew. There was a dark power that had a hold on his mate, and he would need to fight that power to free her. He would have to face that power and defeat it. That was his destiny. His calling. His goddamn fate.

  “Yes,” he said again. “The Black Forest. We just have to make a quick stop first. Conduct an interrogation.”

  12

  ABU DHABI

  UNITED ARAB EMIRATES

  “You aren’t even going to waterboard me first?” said the distinguished, silver-haired man sitting calmly across the weathered teakwood desk. “I’m disappointed, Caleb. I thought I could at least turn you into a world-class spy. Getting a dragon and a bear in and out of a delicate situation without notice is impossible. But a wolf . . . now that was a promising experiment.”

  “Experiments,” said Caleb, crossing his arms over his broad chest and standing upright in front of the seated John Benson as Magda watched from the back of the room. “Funny you should use that word, John. Isn’t it, honey?”

  Benson frowned in a way that lit up his face, and Magda immediately felt like she could trust him. In fact she thought she could trust him more than she could trust herself! Over the past two days she’d been a woman in flux: Her fox had emerged; her body had reverted back to that curvy shape; the magic in her had receded as if it was being drained. But still she felt the dark power sitting there, crouching inside her like a shadowy presence like it was content to bide its time, like everything was flowing according to plan . . . according to its plan, not theirs!

  “Honey?” Benson said, raising one bushy eyebrow and then the other. His light gray eyes twinkled as he looked at her and then stood up. “You two are mates? Hah! That’s . . . that’s wonderful, Caleb! Congratulations! The lone wolf finds his mate! Do Adam and Bart know?”

  “Cut the crap, Benson,” said Caleb, his voice sharp even as a smile curled the corners of his mouth. Magda could tell Caleb liked Benson, respected the man, even looked up to him. “Don’t act so surprised. You always know what’s going on.”

  Benson took a long breath and shook his head. “Not this time,” he said quietly, once again looking at Magda. “You’re a Shifter?” he asked her politely, extending his hand in greeting.

  “Yes,” said Magda cordially, blinking and smiling as she shook his hand. “Fox.”

  A shadow passed across Benson’s calm face, and Magda could tell that something had clicked in this secretive CIA-man’s mind. He clearly hadn’t recognized her by face, but hearing that she was a Fox-Shifter meant something to him.

  “She’s also a witch, John,” said Caleb with a grin. “So be careful. She might turn you into a frog.”

  “Ribbit, ribbit,” said Benson with a grin that looked authentic but was hiding something, Magda sensed. “I give up!”

  All three of them laughed, but there was a tension in the air that Magda could almost see. Again she felt her dark powers swirl inside her like witch’s brew simmering towards the boil, and Magda wondered if she should say something, warn them, let them know that if her dark powers were happily going along with what was happening, perhaps it was a trap.

  “A Fox-Shifter and a witch, eh?” said Benson, gesturing to the empty leather chairs in front of the desk before taking a seat himself. “Interesting mix.”

  “She’s not a natural-born witch,” said Caleb. “That’s why we’re here, Benson. We need answers.”

  But Benson’s gaze hadn’t moved from Magda, and he narrowed his eyes and shook his head. “She is a natural-born witch,” he said softly. “A Shifter-Witch. One of a kind. Isn’t that right, Maggie? It is Maggie, isn’t it? I’m glad to hear they didn’t manage to kill your fox after all. I warned them it wouldn’t work, but they tried anyway.”

  Magda stared as she felt a coldness run through her veins like ice water. She could feel the fox in her yelp and twist like it wanted to get out and run, run the hell away from here. And then she felt something else stir inside her, a power that lay at the bottom of it all, a power that had become tainted all those years ago, when her fox had invited the darkness into her, made a deal that had sent her down this path, a path that was leading her back to where it all began.

  “You lying, manipulative sonofabitch,” Caleb snarled, and Magda could see the hairs on his head and neck stand up straight. He was close to letting his wolf out, and Magda could sense the fear in Benson. John Benson was smart, yes. But he was still just human, and he had a healthy fear for a Shifter’s animal. “I should rip your throat out right here and now.”

  “Hard for me to answer questions without a throat,” said Benson, the sharpness of his tone masking the underlying fear. “Waterboarding is so much better.” He laughed and winked at Magda. “I’m joking, of course. The U.S. government does not officially use torture of any form. Just like we don’t run secret Department of Defense Research Labs in rural Germany, where we let our scientists experiment on Shifters for the advancement of the human race.” He paused, taking a long breath as his gray eyes lost their sparkle and went deadly serious. “For the survival of the human race.”

  “Spare me the histrionic bullshit, John,” growled Caleb, glancing at Magda and then back at Benson. “The biggest danger to the survival of the human race is other humans. And the U.S. Military is really good at killing bad humans. You don’t need Shifters for that. In fact, the crew of Shifters you put together proved that it’s too hard to control us. We screwed up that operation so bad even you couldn’t save our asses!”

  “That last part is true,” said Benson. “But you’re wrong about the rest of it.”

  “You mean the part about humans themselves being the biggest threat to the human race?” said Magda, frowning as she tried to remember if she’d ever met or seen Benson before. “You don’t believe that?”

  Benson slowly shook his head, rubbing his smooth chin as those gray eyes of his sunk deeper into shadow. “Not anymore,” he said softly. “It’s not so simple anymore.”

  “Murad,” said Magda, her breath catching as she wondered if Benson knew that she was Murad’s partner, that she’d been the one who’d helped Murad control his fearsome black dragon to the point where he was poised to do some real damage. “The Black Dragon.”

  But Benson just shook his head again. “Murad—which isn’t his real name, by the way—is just a pawn in the bigger game. Just like you are, Maggie. Just like we all are.” He took another slow breath, a tight smile emerging a
s he leaned back in his battered leather chair and put his feet up on the desk. “But like any chess player knows, a pawn in the right position can still win the game.”

  Caleb rubbed his buzzed head, his face twisting into a snarl. His wolf was riled up, itching to burst free, Magda could tell. She frowned as she tried to reach inside herself, call up her magic just in case she needed to stop him from Changing. Could she even do it? She’d been unsure of herself ever since that dinner party, when her fox had emerged and the witch seemed to have retreated. She’d tried to use her magic to transport her and Caleb to Abu Dhabi so they wouldn’t have to drive all the way across the desert, but she’d been unable to get her spell to work. Would her magic work now? Would it ever work again? What was that comment about her being a natural-born witch? Sure didn’t feel like it right now.

  “You know I hate metaphors, John,” Caleb snarled, leaning over the desk, his fingers gripping the wood so hard Magda wondered if his strength would splinter the heavy table. “Give it to me straight, or I swear to God I’ll give it to you straight. Don’t test me, John. You know what I’m capable of. You know what my animal is capable of.”

  Magda felt her dark power murmur in delight as she watched her mate threaten his own mentor, and in that moment she knew that a darkness lived inside Caleb too. Was it “natural” or had she put it in him? Was her own darkness natural or had it entered her from the choices she and her fox had made years ago? Suddenly she needed to know. She wanted to know. She yearned to know.

  “And you know what I’m capable of,” she whispered, her fingers curling up tight, her stomach knotting up as she felt herself shrink inside her clothes. She gasped as she felt her body morph once more into the rail-thin frame of Magda the Witch, and from the way Benson’s eyes went wide, she could tell he was as scared as a man who’d seen it all could ever be.

  “Holy Mother of God,” he whispered, pushing his chair back from the desk and jumping to his feet. He retreated against the far wall, blinking as his head whipped from Magda to Caleb and then back to her. “You’re the dark witch! I have photographs of you with Murad!”

  “Wait,” said Caleb, his snarl turning to a frown. “You didn’t know?”

  Benson just shook his head. “No,” he said hoarsely.

  “But you just said you knew I was a witch,” Magda said. “You called me Maggie. You said I was a natural-born witch!”

  “Yes, but a good witch,” Benson said, his eyes still wide. “Your magic came from light, not darkness. What happened? What in the name of all that’s holy happened, Maggie? What happened to you?!”

  Magda felt dizzy as she tried to get her bearings. Her vision blurred, and she could feel her fox thrashing inside her, fighting to get out. That sick feeling of having no idea who she was, what she was, what she was meant to be came rushing back, and she almost doubled over in pain as she felt every part of her fighting to win, like there was a battle raging inside her, a battle that she couldn’t possibly win without going insane!

  But suddenly he was there, her mate, her man, her wolf. He was there, pulling her into his arms, pulling all of her into his arms: The witch, the animal, the woman. The dark and the light. The good and the bad. All of her. Every damned part of her splintered self.

  And then he kissed her. By the demons of dark, by the angels of light, and by every power in between, he kissed her. Hell yes, he kissed her.

  13

  The kiss broke through her despair like the sun breaking through stormclouds, and Magda moaned as she felt a sudden balance whip through her convulsing body. Instantly she knew that the way out was through him, through her mate, through her fate, her destiny.

  Him.

  His touch.

  His strength.

  His love.

  “What happened, Maggie?” came Benson’s voice through the mist of the moment, and slowly Magda broke from the kiss as she remembered where they were, what was happening, what needed to happen . . . and what had happened: All those years ago in the Black Forest of Germany.

  And so she talked, fast and furious, her memories pouring into speech that came out of her so fast she could barely breathe. She spoke of how she’d been that insecure girl, desperately looking for a source of strength, a way to fight back. And when she’d found it in her animal, they’d tried to kill her animal!

  “And that’s when I somehow got access to this dark magic,” she said, blinking as she tried to remember the specific moment when it had happened. “But the magic was always dark. Nothing magical had ever happened before the experiments, when they tried to kill my animal and my fox made a deal with darkness. So I think you’re wrong about me being a natural born witch.”

  “I’m rarely wrong,” said Benson, shaking his head, his voice sounding confident once more. “Yes, there are things I don’t know sometimes. But that’s not the same as being wrong.” He shook his head again, his eyes darting back and forth as if he was trying to think as fast as he could. “The Darkness can’t just give someone powers out of thin air. It has to be based on something. You know that better than anyone, Magda. Or Maggie. May I call you Maggie?”

  Magda blinked, feeling the fox inside nod yes, like being called Maggie lessened its frenzy. She nodded, feeling Caleb’s warmth as he kept his arm tight around her waist, holding her close to his hard body. She frowned when she realized her hips were pressing against him, and then she gasped when she saw her curves were back. Maggie was back.

  “Yes,” she finally said, thinking back to how Bart the Bear and Bis the Leopard had opened themselves up to her dark magic by recognizing the darkness within themselves. That hadn’t turned them into dark witches or wizards. It had simply built on whatever was already within them.

  “The Darkness?” Caleb said, interrupting her thoughts. “You have a name for it?”

  Benson shrugged. “You need to name something to gain power over it. Or at least to talk about it. The Darkness is as good a name as any.”

  “And so what is the Darkness? A demon?” said Caleb. “The Devil himself? Aliens?”

  Benson snorted. “Aliens? Don’t get me started on those assholes. That’s a whole different mess I have to deal with.”

  Caleb’s eyes went wide as he cocked his head. But then Magda saw the twinkle in Benson’s eyes, and she burst into surprised laughter, setting off a cascade of snickers, giggles, and straight-up guffaws that broke through the madness and confusion for one delightful moment.

  “Can I rip his throat out now, please?” Caleb muttered, his eyes narrowed to slits as his face relaxed into a big, beaming grin. “Holy crap, John. You had me going for a moment there!”

  Benson winked. “Remember your training, soldier? The best time for a joke is when shit gets so crazy there’s nothing to do but sit back and laugh.”

  Caleb nodded and grinned, and then he reached out his arm towards Benson, who gripped it tight in a military handshake that dated back to when men first banded together to face a common enemy. Magda smiled and shook her head, feeling the energy surge through her mate as he kept one hand tight around her waist, the other still locked tight with the old wardog Benson.

  “Jokes aside,” Benson finally said, still grinning with his gray eyes, “the answer to your question might just be All of the Above.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” said Caleb.

  “The Darkness,” said Magda. “He’s saying he doesn’t know exactly what it is. It might as well be demons, the devil, and aliens all rolled up in one. He has no idea.”

  “Bullshit,” said Caleb, breaking from the handshake and swiping at the air. “When John tells you he doesn’t know something, you can bet your sweet ass he knows exactly what it is. This guy is all secrets, Magda.”

  Magda shook her head, feeling the balance of her own powers flow through her in a way that was both serene and troubling, like the Darkness was just fine with what
was happening here just like her fox seemed as relaxed as the hyperactive little critter had been since it had popped back from the dead.

  “Not this time,” she said, her gaze locked on Benson. “He doesn’t know much about the Darkness because he knows enough to stay away from it. He knows that it will latch on to the darkness inside him and he’d never be able to break free. It would take over if he exposed himself to it. It would take him to a place from which he’d never return. He can’t face it himself. He needs to send in his pawns. Us. You and me.”

  Caleb stared at Magda and then back at Benson. “What the hell is she talking about, John? What the hell are you talking about? When did you get all hokey and mystical on me? I thought you were a cold, calculating, logical bastard. Wheeling and dealing with dictators, terrorists, and everything in between.”

  “Exactly,” said Benson, his gaze lingering on Magda like he was deeply affected by what she’d said. Finally he turned to Caleb. “I am a cold, calculating bastard, which means I know better than to enter into a game I can’t win. I can’t go up against this force I call the Darkness and expect to win.” He let out a slow, trembling breath as he sank back into his chair and rubbed his chin. “But you two can. Together you two have a shot. It might be the only chance we have.”

  “Who is we?” said Caleb, his jaw still tight, blue eyes riveted on the old CIA man who was clearly shaken in a way that was shaking Caleb himself. “You? The CIA? America?”

  Benson grunted and shook his head. “This is way beyond that, Caleb. I already told you: This is about survival. Survival from extinction.” He leaned forward on his scratched, weathered old teakwood desk, his face peaked, lips drawn out, gray eyes narrowed to slits. He looked at Magda and then back at Caleb. “This force, this thing called the Darkness, it . . . it doesn’t have a body, it doesn’t have a head, it can’t be shot, stabbed, or blown up. It is energy, consciousness, pure dark emotion that infiltrates its victims from the inside out.” He glanced at Magda, his eyes widening. “That is how dark magic works, isn’t it? From the inside out? You gain its benefits by making a deal, by making a choice, by opening up to the darkness that already lives inside you, in your animal, in your human, by giving it room to grow, to breathe, to take over.”