by Mary Hughes
“Wouldn’t he know already, if he’s there and doesn’t see us?”
“Not necessarily. He might think we’ve just gone off exploring. Most pocket universes are bigger than this workout dimension. But with all this magical racket, he’ll triangulate our true location—it’s only a matter of time.” He shook the talisman. “This is blasting on the etheric so shrilly I’m getting a headache.”
“Can you switch it off?”
“Hopefully.” He turned it over in his hands, peering at it as he would a motherboard, but his forehead was rumpled in a pre-migrainous scowl. “Switch is a good analogy. A talisman is like a thumb-size computer holding a single executable spell.”
“With an on/off? A rocker switch or button—or clap on, clap off?”
That got a brief smile out of him. “Similar. A pulse of magical power, ‘plucking’ on the etheric, or a trigger word. Auntie favors words, but it’s a matter of finding the right one.” He brought the talisman up to his mouth. “Stop.”
“Warning. Warning. Discovery imminent.”
“Quit? Done? End intention? Damn it, shut the hell up.” He massaged savagely between his eyes, thumb and forefinger lifting his glasses, a sure sign he was about to break.
Break.
Gimme a break. Emma’s brain lit up. Break me off a piece of that…
“Your aunt is on a jingles kick, right? How about ‘Gimme a break’?”
On the phrase, the talisman flared—and turned green. The voice died, and Gabriel’s pained furrow with it. “Have I told you lately that you’re amazing?”
“Not in the last ten seconds.” Emma lightly touched his arm. “Are we safe now?”
“Safer.” His hand dropped. Disaster averted. “But I don’t know how his find resonated here. In case he could accidentally stumble onto us, let’s get out before he does.”
Gabriel rose, slid the turquoise amulet into a pants pocket, and bent to gather up the rest of the charms, dumping them in various places in his baggy trousers.
Then he fished into his shirt pocket and pulled out was a silver talisman. “Last use.” With a thumb, he triggered the doorway to iris open at the far end of the workout room. “Gotta charge this when I have more time and less anklet.” He laughed, no humor in it. “Shall we?” Without seeming to be aware of it, he took her free hand.
The familiar shock of heat and size hit her belly low. Pleasure trembled through her.
He might not like it that she was mated to him—she wasn’t sure what “I do have feelings for you” meant, romantic feelings, no-ties sex, or the dreaded friendzone—but at least in this, at least subconsciously, he was content to be tied to her.
Clutching his hand and her journal equally tight, she followed him from the bubble universe and out the bookstore’s back door. Stepping onto the stoop, she waited while he relocked the door, working herself up to continue the conversation. “I do have feelings for you.”
Before she could say a thing, he snared her hand and propelled her toward a detached garage.
“Where are we going?”
“That was too damned close. You need to get out of town, now.” He led her through the people door. Inside, he hit a button and the garage door rolled up, revealing the alley.
He pointed to an old car. “That’s my aunt’s. She said you can use it to get away. Well, assuming I can get it running.” He grabbed a set of keys off a pegboard and hopped into the driver seat, leaving the door open. “If you want to give your journal to me, I’ll keep it safe.”
Her spirits fell. He was sending her away. “No, I’ll take it.”
He grimaced, opened his mouth as if to object, then closed it again. Finally, he said, “There are some quirks to this car. The speedometer is a rolling dome, and the shifting system is push-button on the steering wheel.” He turned the key in the ignition. A click, then nothing.
She had to ask her questions, now, before it was too late. She clutched the journal to her chest and rounded the hood to see his face. “Gabriel. About me and you—”
“Start, damn it.” His eyes went out of focus, perhaps peering onto the etheric, and he turned the key again. This time the click was followed by a pop loud enough to make her jump. A moment later, a curl of smoke rose from the engine compartment. His eyes refocused and if his expression was any indication, corresponding smoke would shoot from his ears.
But he didn’t swear. The silence, the lack of any crunchy damns or toasted cruds, was almost more unnerving.
A phone’s ringtone burbled into the silence.
“Now what?” He pulled a phone from his pocket. To her inquiring look he said, “Pan had extra burner phones. Don’t worry, Mason can fix the car, given enough time. And parts. Light,” he said into the phone then listened.
Suddenly he snarled. Leaping to his feet, he grabbed her hand and spun out of the garage headed west.
Toward Ryder, not away.
“Gabriel…um, isn’t this the way to the B-and-B?” Yet she felt lighter, as if she’d had a reprieve.
“Yes.” He stuffed the phone in his pocket. “Can’t be helped. The Scooby Familiar Squad found the only witch who could lock writing like your journal was Avignon himself. That’s one too many coincidences for me. Before I let you run off with that thing, I want to know exactly what you’re taking with you.”
“So we’re headed for the Blackwood garage?” Her breath frosted. “But Noah—”
“Won’t say boo to you, if he doesn’t want to cross me.” Gabriel’s growl was very alpha himself.
She clutched his hand and trotted alongside him in the alley. On West First he veered a half block south, seemingly the long way but Emma knew it was to avoid the B-and-B. Matinsfield was a small town stretched almost entirely along Main Street, the few side streets branching off like an old television antenna. Reaching Main, he led her west.
They’d just passed the FreshFresh sub sandwich shop when Emma’s wolf pulled its ears back and her throat rumbled with a growl.
Gabriel’s head swiveled in reaction, as if reconnoitering for the enemy. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone’s following us.”
His eyes unfocused for a brief moment in that way she’d come to realize was him using his Witch’s Sight. It made him look kinda sexy.
Or maybe everything he did was starting to look sexy to her.
“It’s someone drawing power.” He backed her against a brick storefront, positioning himself like a shield before her.
Her wolf’s fur raised. Noah? Ryder?
“Show yourself.” Gabriel’s tone was an alpha’s challenging snarl. His back stiffened as paws came into view. “You.”
Worse than Noah or Ryder? She peeked out from behind his bulk.
A black wolf had materialized from the shadows of the FreshFresh drive-thru window. Not Ryder. Not Noah either, not with gleaming black eyes.
The thick dorsal cape and big paws meant male. The fearless way he trotted directly to them, sat on his haunches and lolled, told her he wasn’t a natural wolf.
She wondered if he was the flash of black animal she’d seen when she and Gabriel first escaped from the Council jail.
“Damn it.” Contrarily, Gabriel’s shoulders had relaxed and his growl was more irked than angry.
“You know this shifter?” The wolf did look vaguely familiar. Not a regular member of the Matinsfield pack, but she seemed to remember him from a hunt or two. She sniffed the air to get the wolf equivalent of a name.
“Met him at the wedding,” Gabriel said. “But he’s not a shifter.”
Gabriel was right, this wolf strangely didn’t smell like a wolf…ah. She knew him. Never as a man, but a couple hunts she’d caught him looking at her with those black eyes, and she’d seen the flash of something old and powerful.
“Goes by the name of Jayden,” Gabriel said. “He’s not a shifter, but he is a pain in the ass.” To the wolf he said, “We can’t stand out here in the open all day. You got something to say? Better man up.�
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Before her eyes, the wolf’s spine and limbs extended, the snout receded. The wolf reared onto two legs, the man curling erect as body fur shingled back to reveal jeans and a casual button-down shirt.
Barest dressing for a lithe, muscled body that could fell half the female population, and a square-jawed, ride-me face that would make the other half swoon. Didn’t hurt that the man broadcast sex pheromones with nationwide coverage. Can you smex me now? Oh yeah. The only thing that kept Emma from throwing herself on him was Gabriel’s luscious body in front of hers, radiating heat and power and comfort.
Seemingly unaware of his charismatic effect, the moment Jayden formed he gave Gabriel a disgusted poke in the chest. “You idiot. You were supposed to get Sophia out of jail, not wind up there yourself.”
“I didn’t have a lot of choice,” Gabriel said.
“You could have kept it in your pants,” Jayden said baldly.
“Thanks for the advice.” With a glare at the man, Gabriel grabbed Emma’s hand and stalked off, yanking her into a run behind him.
“Walk and talk?” Jayden asked pleasantly from behind. “I can do that.” Almost immediately he glided up beside them, falling easily into step with Gabriel’s angry pace.
“Who are you?” she asked abruptly. “You run with the pack, but you’re not a wolf.”
“That’s correct.” The black-haired man grinned. “This one’s quick,” he said to Gabriel.
His mocking tone was meant to silence her, but instead she pursued it. “How do you know how to shift then? Mated to one?”
“I’m not married to a wolf.”
“He’s one of my kind,” Gabriel said shortly. “More’s the pity. You didn’t object to Sophia marrying Noah.”
The black-eyed man gave a graceful shrug. “My objection isn’t with doing the intermagical dirty, it’s with getting caught. You didn’t work out the prophecy warning like you were supposed to.”
“How did you…never mind. No, I didn’t. Pan told us the gist, and anyway, it’s not worth my time. ‘Give in to the rage.’ If it’s a warning, it’s nothing I understand. That’s the nature of prophecy. All a bunch of vague nonsense.”
“Really? How nonsensical is ‘Give in to the rage, little iota’? I like the iota touch. That’s fairly specific.”
Emma flinched. “Me?”
“Don’t let him get under your skin,” Gabriel told her. To the other witch he said, “Not ‘Little iota.’ Pan said PEH-tee-OH-ta.”
Jayden rolled his eyes. “It’s spelled P-E-T-I-T-E-I-O-T-A.”
“Fine, whatever, PEHteeOHta, paTEETee-oh-ta…fuck, petite iota. Petite is French for small, and iota. Fine, but even if you’re right about the word, do you realize how many iota wolves there are in this country alone? My sister did a magical census, so I know. That prophecy could refer to one of hundreds—assuming it doesn’t mean an iota yet to come. Prophecy’s about as informative as a politician’s debate.”
But he dug his free hand savagely into his hair.
So it bothered him, but not half as much as it did her, because she knew rage was her iota talent. She shivered in the suddenly chilly air.
A prophecy by a world-famous witch, telling her to give in to her berserker?
Her own family, afraid. Beast. Her shame.
Never again.
“Only trying to be helpful,” Jayden said.
“Should be your middle name, Jay-Helpful-Guy-Den,” Gabriel sneered. “Where were you when Scauth was abusing women and children here?”
Jayden gave an exaggerated sigh. “I only arrived when Mason joined, and I did help. You’re changing the subject.”
“You’re the one who forced yourself on us.”
“Look, at least check out the wolf’s journal, all right? It may—”
“My journal?” Emma was startled enough to butt in. “Why?”
Jayden raised a chiding black brow. “I believe it will have more concrete answers.”
“But it’s only a chewed-up old leather book.” Still clutched in one hand, she raised the journal as they cornered onto Third. “Half of it is blank pages…” She trailed off, remembering. Not blank.
“A journal with locked writing that can’t be seen. Provocative, no?”
Gabriel spun to a halt facing Jayden, dragging Emma to a stop beside him. “Why don’t you come out and say what you mean—damn.”
He’d disappeared.
“Fry me in sausage gravy.” Gabriel stalked off north, pulling Emma into a run.
She panted, “Does he always do that?”
“Annoy people just by breathing? Yes.”
“No, not that. Well, yes, that, but also drop cryptic little clues and then vanish?”
“Apparently. Almost as bad as a prophecy.” He fell silent.
She spent the rest of the block trying to word her questions about “I do have feelings for you”, when he stopped.
“Okay, Auntie was watching the Enforcer, but it’s been hours.”
She looked up. They’d reached Pine Street. Kitty-corner left was Blackwood Small Engine Repair.
But to the right, only a few buildings away, was the B-and-B and Ryder, with all the power of the Witches’ Council behind him.
Gabriel’s eyes scanned the empty streets. “She may still be there, but in case she used up her excuse to stay, or simply took a break, we need to be careful. We don’t want to accidentally draw his attention.”
Feelings would have to wait. He gave a nod, and they crept across the street.
The Blackwood shop was the last building north before the town ran out. Emma tiptoed behind Gabriel up the sweep of neat red pavers that skirted a large cinder block building. The store was leading the local economy in a resurgence, and it showed.
Lawn mowers and snow blowers with bright paint sat in one display window, but the largest showcased motorcycles—cruisers, sportsters, and off-road bikes, all lovingly displayed.
Gabriel opened the door and waved her quickly inside.
Cool air caressed her. Stepping over the threshold, she breathed deep, filling her lungs with the tangy scent of leather jackets, pants, and lug-soled boots. Sleek carbon fiber bikes and displays of saddlebags, rain gear, and headsets lined her path, everything she could want for her riding pleasure. No movement, but the smell and sound of males came from an office deeper in the store.
Gabriel placed his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward. “Let’s see what the collective wisdom of the wisdom creatures has found.”
The office door was open. Emma poked her head in. Goodwin must’ve finished his reading in his pocket dimension library because he stood with Pan at the desk arguing with him over an open book.
Gabriel wedged in front of her, blocking her with his big body like a linebacker. “I want to know what you found. But first—where’s Noah?”
“The reason my wife is locked up is that bitch.” Emma shivered.
“Don’t know,” Pan said. “Don’t care. He was being a pest.”
“He tore out of here mere minutes after I arrived, followed by his familiar and Mason.” Goodwin shook his distinguished auburn head. “Normally Noah’s witch nature makes him unusually calm for a wolf, but his separation from Sophia has obviously shattered that.”
“Nice way of putting it—shattered,” Pan said. “He was a wreck. Throwing off jags of power so strong even I could feel them. I’m surprised that asshole Enforcer didn’t show up. Your aunt must’ve really done a number on him.”
“Before Noah ran out, Mason did let us know about his idea. He said Noah’s slide downhill was gradual, and that apparently it could’ve been worse. That seemed to mean something to him.” Goodwin shrugged. “I understand separating mates is hard on the shifter.”
“Could have been worse?” Emma frowned. Now that she thought about it, the one time she’d seen mates apart, when her father traveled overnight to an art gallery for a showing, her mother had been a wreck, frantically running to the window every five min
utes, looking for his return. And her parents had only had a ritual mating. Sophia and Noah had a true bond.
Having now felt the mating bond, so strong it tugged at her not only over space but she suspected back through time—she’d been unreasonably attracted to Gabriel at first sight—she was even more certain, despite the alpha’s almost legendary calm, Noah should have been boiling to free his mate.
Emma slid around Gabriel into the room. “Actually, it should be worse. I understand what Mason was trying to tell you. Sophia’s in a bubble universe—cut off from this one, right? That should have severed the mating bond. But Noah’s not acting like it’s cut. He’s acting like it’s been simply stretched or…or reduced somehow.”
“Hell.” Pan blinked golden eyes. “If she’s right, that’s another game-changer.”
Goodwin tilted his auburn head thoughtfully. “Some sort of bleed-through between Sophia’s bubble and this dimension? Gabriel, my boy, can you detect it? Your Sight is the best.”
“I only came to find out what kind of danger Emma’s journal is to her, so she can get out of town safely.” He had that stubborn glint to his eye. “What did you find?”
Emma’s heart filled. He was putting her first again. But she couldn’t let him do that. “Gabriel, I’m fine for now.” When he opened his mouth to argue, she touched his arm. “Really, truly. Here with you, I’m the safest I can possibly be. There’s no one smarter, stronger, or better at protecting. If you can see Noah’s mating bond, maybe we can use it to free your sister. Doesn’t that come first?”
“No.” The stubborn male crossed arms. “If you won’t take care of yourself, I’ll do it for you. The journal. Is it dangerous?”
“Short answer?” Pan raised his palm to her when she opened her mouth to object. “He’s not going to let it go. Short answer is—yes. Extremely.”
“Damn me in milk. How?”
“We don’t know. We only know Avignon sealed it with a form of death magic.”
Emma questioned Gabriel with raised eyebrows.
He’d gone still. “Death magic can be anything from a small self-sacrifice to murder, but it’s never done lightly. Whatever that locked writing is, it’s serious. Potentially explosive.” To his familiar he said, “How did you discover this?”
