by Rae Rivers
“Will there ever be a time when we’re not fighting the world?” she asked softly.
“We’re not fighting the world, Jen. We’re protecting it.”
“Would be nice to have an off day now and then.” A small smile broke free and he tugged her closer. With a large sigh, she nestled into the cushions beside him. “How are we going to stop Hazel?”
“We found a way to stop her nephews. We’ll find a way to stop her too.”
Sighing softly, she relaxed against the couch, against him. It felt good to have him near. It eased the anxiety gnawing at her, if only for a moment, and when she tilted her head so that it rested on his shoulder, he didn’t pull away.
Instead, he rested his head against hers. The gesture triggered a small smile, giving her a case of the warm and fuzzies she’d seldom experienced.
They stayed like that for a long while, words unnecessary, revelling in the stillness they always found with each other.
She opened her eyes, fighting the fatigue. “I should go to bed.”
“Hm.” He sounded just as sleepy, but neither of them moved.
“Don’t mention this to Declan, okay?” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“Don’t worry about Declan. He’s the least of our problems.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jenna stirred two hours later, curled up on the couch, her head in Ethan’s lap.
In his lap.
Lovely.
Her cheeks flared with heat and she sat up, hoping like hell she hadn’t drooled on him. She wiped her mouth, relieved to find it dry.
He’d slept upright, his head resting against the back cushion. Sleep had eased his frown, masking the quiet thoughtfulness that often simmered in his eyes. He had tousled hair and a jaw covered in stubble. Rugged and asleep – a glimpse of him she’d never seen before.
Unable to tear her eyes away, she took her fill, fascinated by the vision of morning male beauty. Even in sleep, he looked powerful. Wide shoulders and a body of muscles that strained against his white t-shirt. He still wore his leather necklace, the pendant hidden beneath his t-shirt – one she recognised. His one hand rested on her waist, the other on his thigh. Beautiful hands. Working hands. His sleeve had crept up, revealing a glimpse of tattoo. She swallowed, caught by the urge to run her fingers across the ink. Or cuddle up to him again.
And she never cuddled. Ever. If anything, physical affection was something she usually avoided – a result of being raised for so many years in the mortal world without any. After leaving her parents in Ameera, she’d soon learnt that acts of kindness and attention usually came with a price.
But something about Ethan’s presence, the calm that radiated off him as he slept, drew her in.
“Stop staring at me,” he said quietly, eyes still closed, “it’s creeping me out.”
Despite the flush that crept into her cheeks, she smiled and hugged a cushion against her chest. Like that would conceal everything. “I’m looking at your pendant.”
Long, dark eyelashes lifted to reveal beautiful, sleepy blue eyes. “Liar.”
She tossed the cushion at him.
Ignoring it, he grinned and rolled his shoulders, breaking out into a yawn. “Are you okay?”
Besides the sudden rush of butterflies to her stomach? Yeah, great. “I’m fine.”
He glanced at his watch and groaned. “Damn, only two hours?”
“We’ve got by with less sleep.”
“I know but it still sucks. In my next life, I want to be an accountant. They get eight hours’ sleep a night, don’t they?”
“The honest ones maybe.”
“Cool, done deal then.”
She couldn’t quite picture him as a number-pusher. “But think of the adrenaline rushes you’ll miss. I don’t think accountants get to ward off an attack of crows, chase a bunch of shifters and flee from hellhounds.”
“Exactly.” He stood and headed for the bathroom. He returned a few minutes later and within moments, the aroma of fresh coffee filled the air, enticing and comforting, the machine quietly bubbling away as it brewed the liquid.
She ran her fingers through her hair and hoped there were no mascara remains beneath her eyes. She slipped into the bathroom to check anyway. Nope, all clean. But the bathroom smelt like him. His soap, his scent. An aroma that quickened her breath. Stifling an inward groan, she splashed her face and rinsed her mouth.
He was waiting for her at the couch, two mugs in his hand. He’d finger-smoothed his hair, his cheeks covered by a thin fuzz she found far too sexy. “No doubt, my brothers are downstairs in full planning mode. I find them more manageable with a dose of caffeine.”
She smiled and took the mug, the gesture as sweet as it was appreciated. She needed the caffeine kick after last night. The thought triggered a wave of dread as reality came crashing down on her.
“I almost lost my witch last night, Ethan.” The frightening reality they always feared and fought to prevent.
“Maybe, but you didn’t, Jen. You brought her home.”
“I was watching for everything but the hellhounds. By the time I saw them, it was too late. They moved so damn fast.”
“Hazel’s crazy and unpredictable. We do the best we can. Now that we know the portal’s open, we’ll be more careful.”
“And what happens when our best isn’t good enough?”
It was a fear they faced every day.
He sipped his coffee. He wore a ring on each hand, almost identical. The mark of a Keeper. Antique silver rings, each etched with a pentagram. A symbol of everything they were, everything they fought for.
Most Keepers only wore one. Ethan wore two – his own and the ring that had once belonged to his sister.
Jenna looked at hers, similar but more delicate. It felt good to be able to wear it again. “In all the time I spent with our enemies, you know what I missed the most?” She flexed her fingers, showing him her ring. “This. After a while, once the loneliness kicked in and I became immersed in the violence and darkness, it was easy to forget why I was there, what I was fighting for. I could’ve used the reminder.”
Ethan discarded their mugs and took her hand. But he stilled. His eyes narrowed as he twisted her wrist, palm facing upward.
Her stomach plummeted when she glimpsed the tattoo partly visible beneath her sleeve – a tattoo worn exclusively by their enemies. “Ethan …”
His thumb grazed it, his gentle touch a contrast to the irritation in his eyes. “They branded you?”
She tried not to flinch at the quiet anger in his tone. “If I resisted, they would’ve known.”
Now she was marked permanently as one of theirs. She despised the symbol, ached to have it removed from her skin. It resembled everything she’d survived, fought, loathed. She straightened her fingers, her gaze shifting between her ring and the tattoo. “Ironic seeing these two symbols beside each other, isn’t it?”
“I think it’s apt.”
“Hardly. The one symbolises evil. The other good. They contradict each other.”
“A perfect reminder of everything we stand for. You should wear these symbols with pride, Jen. You singlehandedly snatched Kate from right under their noses. You saved a very special woman and strengthened our side. That’s pretty damn bad-ass.”
His words chipped at something inside, a wave of relief nudging at the humiliation she’d felt since they’d branded her. Exhaling slowly, she closed her fingers around his and squeezed softly.
“Thank you,” she whispered, lifting her head. Pensive blue eyes stared back at her. His expression had eased but he radiated a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
He stroked a lock of hair against her cheek, his touch triggering all kinds of electric sensations through her. His eyes had darkened, never leaving hers. And this time, it wasn’t anger she saw but something else. Compassion. Desire.
For her.
The sizzle of electricity didn’t surprise her. It had always been there. But their re
sponsibilities and everything else had always stood between them. They’d never challenged it, never dared to.
Until now.
His fingers dipped into the curve of her neck, cupping her jaw in the palm of his hands. His touch was light, tender, and goosebumps erupted across her skin.
She offered him a small smile, needing to ease the heat between them. “We should keep our focus on finding Hazel.”
“My focus hasn’t deviated.”
“Then stop looking at me like that.” Or mine will.
“I’m a distraction?”
Yes. “No.”
A smile hovered on his lips. He was so close, the heat of him making her breathless and unsteady. When he dipped his head forward, she stopped breathing entirely.
“You’re lying,” he whispered, his breath fanning her lips. He smelt like coffee and man and soap, the enticing scent igniting a shiver of excitement.
“That’s twice in one morning you’ve called me a liar, Bennett.”
His grin was way sexy and all-powerful. “Guess I see right through you.”
She swallowed, caught by his boldness, and leaned into him.
With a satisfied smirk that sent her pulse racing, his mouth covered hers. His lips were soft, demanding, his stubble gravelly on her skin, but the kiss was so heated, the rush of desire and excitement so overwhelming.
And just as intense as she’d known it would be.
One hand curled around her waist, drawing her closer. Her fingers plunged into his hair and she relaxed, leaning into him, revelling in his rock-solid strength. The evidence of his arousal pressed against her hips and her libido soared with anticipation.
He kissed her until she was breathless.
But just as swiftly as he’d moved in, he withdrew. Inhaling deeply, he took a step back but kept his eyes pinned on her. They’d turned a shade of blue she’d never seen before. Dark and hungry.
A loud knock on the bedroom door broke the silence as Declan pushed it open and walked inside. He froze in the doorway, frowning when he saw them. Together, drinking an early morning coffee, dressed in sleepwear. Flushed.
Fantastic.
Declan glanced at the bed – still made, thank God – and raised a brow at Jenna. “Since when did you take up residence in Ethan’s bed?”
Jenna bit back a groan. “Declan, this isn’t –”
“Any of your damn business,” Ethan interrupted. He took in Declan’s harsh frown and grim expression. “What’s wrong?”
Declan crossed the room and opened the blinds. The light outside was dull and eerie, a contrast to the perky morning Jenna had expected.
Thick clouds had moved in, the air speckled in a blackness that marred the beauty of the mountains and vineyards.
“Bees?” Ethan turned to look at his brother. “What the hell, Declan?”
“Get dressed and meet us upstairs. Both of you. Pronto,” Declan added, walking back to the door. “Reports are streaming in from all over. Hazel’s unleashed a shitstorm.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jenna met him outside the attic door.
She’d showered and opted for black clothing. The colour of his mood. She looked poised and controlled, not the breathless, flushed woman she’d been in his arms less than half an hour ago.
Without saying anything, they went inside. The aroma of herbs filled the air, along with the spice of tension. The spacious room had been transformed into a magical haven for Sienna. A shelf lined one wall, crammed with books, Grimoires, and dozens of jars and bottles. Two creased leather couches faced a window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling, the view marred by the bees outside.
Sienna sat at the table holding an iPad, Archer and Declan towering over her. With folded arms and feet planted firmly apart, they looked like scary bodyguards standing to attention. Grim expressions, pissed-off glares.
Ethan’s mood had met its match. “What happened?”
Declan grunted. “Hazel and her minions of darkness had a busy night.”
“It wasn’t only Rapid Falls on their radar yesterday.” Archer took the iPad and held it up. “It’s all over the news.”
Ethan reached for the iPad, Jenna peering over his shoulder, and scrolled through the images and news reports. Bleak images of people and places in the wake of Hazel’s destruction. He looked up. “Insects?”
“Bees, roaches, grasshoppers, snakes …” Sienna shuddered. “She opted for cities and towns far apart, creating enough devastation to catch our attention, but not enough to alert the authorities that it’s magical.”
“It gets worse.” Declan added. “Four Keepers went missing yesterday. Another one this morning. All their witches recounted the same story. They were attacked by shifters, were-cats.”
“Were any of the witches harmed?”
“No. They weren’t even touched. The Keepers were attacked and moments later they vanished.”
Ethan heard Jenna’s sharp intake of air and turned back to the iPad. Images of three smiling faces stared back at him. They’d been hiking in the mountains. Below was a single photograph of their body bags on the ground beside each other. According to the headline, they’d been attacked by a pack of wolves.
Hellhounds.
With a low growl, he held up the iPad and pinned Archer with a fierce glare. “This is all Hazel. The insect infestations, the missing Keepers. And now this. Still want to sit back and wait?”
“Ethan.” Archer’s tone held a warning that went ignored.
Fuck that. “We have to stop her!”
“We don’t know where she is.”
“Even if we found her, we’d never pin her,” Declan said. “The portals give them a mobility that makes them unreachable. You saw last night how fast those shifters vanished.”
“We let them get away!” Ethan exhaled noisily and tossed the iPad onto the table. “We defend and protect because we’re so damn responsible. Noble. And in the meantime, we’re losing this war!”
“Ethan,” Archer said, “we’ve been through this. We’re not murderers. That’s not what we signed on for.”
“Neither was losing our parents and sister in this damn war!” Ethan jabbed a finger at the iPad. “Four Keepers are missing. People were hurt yesterday thanks to natural crap we know weren’t natural. Three kids were mauled by fucking hellhounds! It won’t stop here and you know it!”
Archer slammed his hands on the table. “You want to Van Helsing them down before they hurt more people. I get it. You think I don’t want that too? But we can’t. We’re Keepers. We don’t kill just because we can.”
His words struck Ethan where they mattered most and he glared at his brother, torn between the urge to protect – and destroy.
“Even if we agreed to kill Hazel,” Jenna said, breaking the silence, “we can’t. Not until we’re able to close the portals. Especially now that she’s opened the one to Ameera.” Her expression darkened, her eyes clouded with something Ethan couldn’t decipher, but she turned away when she caught his scrutiny. “She’s not our biggest problem right now. The portals are.”
“Jen’s right,” Sienna added, “and considering what’s happened lately, those trapped on the other side have already started crossing over. Soon, we’ll be facing enemies far more dangerous than witches and warlocks.”
“What are we dealing with?” Ethan asked. They’d heard stories, legends, but the door to the other side hadn’t been opened in so long.
“Shifters, vamps, werewolves,” Jenna said quietly, “and that’s just to name a few.”
“How many?”
“Enough to make The Circle bind the spell that could unleash them,” Sienna replied. “Before the portal spell was stolen, they used to banish evil warlocks and witches to Ameera as punishment.”
Ethan raised a brow. “A prison?”
“Rose suspected a few Keepers were banished there as punishment for what happened to their witches the night of the massacre.”
“I thought they’d all been k
illed?”
“That’s what we were told. Tragic really, as amongst them was the last Salubrious ever seen.”
A Keeper with abilities different to theirs. Ethan rubbed his temples and shrugged. “Not so tragic considering what they did to their witches.”
“Either way, they wouldn’t have stood a chance. They were as good as dead the moment they betrayed their witches. Here, they’d be loathed by others like us. In a place like Ameera, they’d be hunted by our enemies.”
“Outcasts and in danger in both worlds. A fitting punishment,” Declan added, his tone taking on a disgruntled edge.
“You weren’t there that night, Declan,” Jenna argued softly. “You don’t know what happened.”
“Dozens of witches were murdered, Jenna. Their Keepers stood by while it happened. If Rose was right and they were banished to Ameera that would never be enough to avenge what they did.”
Jenna clenched her jaw and turned away. But something about her demeanour had changed, enough to catch Ethan’s attention. It was so quiet, subtle, that no one else noticed but he’d spent enough time with her in the last few months to know she was upset.
“How do we close the portals?” he asked, trying to read her expression.
“Hazel’s the only one with the spell,” Sienna replied, turning to Jenna. “Only she can close them. Did you ever see her open one?”
Jenna shook her head. “If you had the spell, could you close them?”
“Any witch could. It’s a glorified entry spell, but in order to close them, I’d need the exact spell.”
“When I realised that Hazel’s a dark caster, I tried searching for it. I wasn’t sure what to look for and then …” Frowning, Jenna lowered her gaze and shrugged. “Things got heated so quickly and I had to get Kate out of there.”
Her admission sparked a beat of silence. They knew what would’ve happened had she not saved Kate. They also knew the danger Jenna faced because of it.
Ethan glanced at Declan, not surprised to see his frown had grown more pronounced. Like it always did when the details of that night surfaced. But this time, there was something more. A flicker of admiration in his eyes. For Jenna. Ha, imagine that. Stifling a comment, he turned to Sienna. “What would the spell look like?”
