by Layla Nash
Palmer managed to look relieved without being smarmy, even though I backed up when he touched my side and tried to lean in for a hug. He recovered well and redirected into hugging my aunt. “I’m so glad you found her, Estelle. I was concerned after she left last night, but Deirdre insisted on leaving.”
And they traded looks like I was the crazy one. Maybe I’d really lost my mind when Miles kidnapped me. Maybe I’d hit my head and ended up in some weird coma or my short-term memory was gone and everyone else knew things that I didn’t. Because I sure as hell couldn’t keep up with all the lies and misdirection and reality they were apparently living in.
“I didn’t feel well, that’s true enough,” I said. I kept my tone civil, indifferent. Maybe neither of them knew who’d drugged me. Maybe they were both complicit. I couldn’t even calculate the odds at that point. “Although it’s not clear whether it was food poisoning or something else. I don’t suppose either of you might know what made me ill, do you?”
Estelle didn’t even blink, the psycho. “Perhaps if you didn’t drink so much, Deirdre, we wouldn’t have to worry about you passing out on your way home.”
“I had one drink, Estelle, and I never said anything about passing out.”
Palmer gently squeezed my bicep and I started to feel crowded in the corner, even trapped. I could see both Mercy and Henry and knew the witches wouldn’t be able to take me out of there, but my heart still ratcheted up and my hands went cold. I inhaled and concentrated on a powerful hex, just in case I needed it.
Palmer said quietly, “We’re just concerned. I called you this morning to make sure you were feeling okay, but when you didn’t answer, I called Estelle. She hadn’t heard from you either, so she reached out to your boss to see whether you had to work early. And when your boss said you’d been missing the last four or five days...” He shook his head mournfully, like he was disappointed that I somehow hadn’t disclosed my entire life to both of them, and rubbed my arm. “I’m worried, Deirdre. Are you sure everything is okay? You’re taking some crazy risks.”
I snorted and pulled away, hitching my bag up on my shoulder as I caught Mercy’s gaze. “If you think this is crazy, buckle up. I’m serious about what I said, Estelle. I’m out. I haven’t been fully engaged with the coven for a while, and you know it. It’s best for everyone if I just walk away now.”
Her expression soured again and even Palmer looked taken aback. He cleared his throat and tried to catch my arm once more. “Don’t do anything rash, Deirdre. It’s really difficult to be on your own. I don’t think you realize how much—”
“Who said I’d be alone?” I folded my arms over my chest and edged around them both, avoiding his touch, and backed up a few steps so I didn’t give them an undefended target. Henry strode up to the counter, just a few feet away, to pay for his bouquet. I smiled at my aunt and Palmer; maybe I could pass along a little anxiety. “And I’m a grown-ass adult, Palmer. I’m more than capable of standing on my own if and when I want to.”
He took a breath to argue when the door bell jangled again and the other witches tensed. Estelle’s eyes narrowed and her hands clenched at her sides, a whisper of magic rising up as she prepared to hex whoever came in. I shook my head at her, even unaware of who walked up behind me. “Don’t you dare. Not here.”
And then a familiar energy filled the room and the tension in my insides uncoiled. Safe. I was definitely safe. It was some strange kind of magic, but I didn’t have to see or hear him to know that Miles walked through the door and stood next to me. I didn’t even jump when his arm slid around my waist and pulled me against his side, or when he leaned down to brush his lips against mine. “Hi babe. Sorry I’m late.”
I patted his stomach as I tried not to laugh my ass off at Estelle’s expression. “I’ll forgive you this time.”
Even though I really wanted to know how the hell he found us. Maybe Henry reported my little trip anyway, or Todd did, or Mercy. It didn’t really matter. For once, he had perfect timing.
Chapter 37
Miles
Evershaw hated that little shit more with every passing minute, particularly as he drove his bullshit little hybrid sedan through the city and the SUVs had to hang too far back so the prick wouldn’t realize he was being followed. They’d been driving for fifteen minutes when it became clear where he was headed—a semi-familiar neighborhood where Deirdre worked.
Todd focused on driving, though he handed Evershaw a radio. “Just a heads up. Henry and Mercy took the witch to her job so she could check in with her boss. They might still be there.”
“That’s where he’s headed,” Evershaw said. His teeth started to crowd in his mouth; he wanted to know what that little shit intended to do to Deirdre, and how the fuck he knew where she would be. “We need to figure out who alerted him that she’d be there.”
Todd grunted and tilted his head at the radio. “Let the teams outside know that we’re en route and this kid is on his way. You want them to stop him from going in, or let him through?”
Evershaw wanted the security teams to pound the kid into a bloody pile of hamburger, but that might have been hard to explain to the cops. And they’d learn more about the kid’s plans and intentions if they could observe what he said and did around Deirdre, as much as it sucked to think about risking her safety. “Henry and Mercy are inside with her?”
“Yeah.”
“Let him through.” Evershaw had to grudgingly admit that Henry planned the hell out of even small trips—two security teams and a floating quick-reaction team might have normally been a little over the top, but he’d give the kid a fucking bonus for that kind of precaution when this much trouble showed up to go after the witch. “But any sign that he’s trying anything, I want everyone inside. And step on it.”
Todd obliged, and one of the security team’s SUVs rolled out of the way so his truck could park closer to the florist shop. Todd left the car running, his eyes on the glass front and the surrounding sidewalk. “Not much foot traffic.”
“There he is.” Evershaw gritted his teeth as the annoying Palmer kid sauntered up to the florist and ducked through the door, not even bothering to look around. He clenched the door handle until the plastic and leather cracked.
“Breathe, dude,” Todd said under his breath. “Give it a couple of minutes. If there’s a problem, Henry and Mercy will let us know.”
“We can’t wait.” Evershaw shook his head and opened the door.
Todd caught his arm. “Wait, man. How is she going to feel if you saunter in? Like you’re checking up on her or something. Is that going to go over well, or is it going to piss her off?”
He had a point, even though Evershaw didn’t want to admit it. He pulled the door closed but didn’t let it latch, just in case he had to spring out to rescue the witch.
He managed to wait all of four and a half minutes when a feeling of uneasiness reached him through the pack connections from Mercy and Henry. Evershaw’s wolf side almost took over as he kicked the door open. Deirdre was in trouble. Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t just sit there when she was alone in there with that loathsome toad. He didn’t have a plan. He didn’t need a plan. He was Miles fucking Evershaw and no one—no one—would bother his woman.
His woman. He pushed away the insidious little doubt that Deirdre wasn’t actually his woman, not yet, regardless of how much the wolf side of his brain wanted to bite her to make sure everyone else would know. He could deal with that later.
It took every remaining shred of self-control for him not to break out the glass in the creaky old door as he opened it, nerves twitching at the ringing of the bells over the door, and his attention went straight to where Deirdre tried to retreat out of a corner with Palmer and an older woman he didn’t recognize. They both stank of magic, though, and Evershaw swallowed down a sneeze through sheer force of will. It was almost impossible to be intimidating while wiping snot on your sleeve.
Mercy and Henry both eased back, with Mercy g
oing to the counter to distract the owner while Henry nodded and headed for the door with an absurdly girly arrangement of flowers in his arms. The long-suffering wolf sighed and rolled his eyes, and went to trade places with Todd in the car.
But Evershaw only had eyes for Deirdre. He didn’t like the tension in her shoulders, the way they hiked up closer and closer to her ears when she got more and more uncomfortable, and he sure as shit didn’t like that the little bastard kept trying to grab her arm while she kept pulling away.
He touched her. The weasel touched her when she didn’t want to be touched, and kept trying it, despite the warning in the way she spoke to both of them.
So Evershaw made a point. He’d deal with whatever issues Deirdre had with it later, but he was going to protect her from that asshole’s advances the only way he knew how—by being a bigger asshole. He walked right up and put his arm around her, kissed her, and called her “babe” for good measure. And fuck him if Deirdre didn’t look a little relieved to see him. His pulse thrummed as she gazed up at him, and her palm slid over his abs in a gesture reminiscent of the way he’d tickled her only that morning. “I’ll forgive you this time.”
He looked up at the old lady she’d been arguing with and was equally gratified to see her looking like she’d bitten into a lemon. Palmer appeared half a second from shitting himself, though he remained frozen in a half-smile in an attempt to disguise it.
Deirdre leaned against him, a casual gesture but one that hopefully spoke volumes for the two who stared at her. “Miles, this is my aunt, Estelle. And this is her friend, Palmer. We... sort of worked together.”
Witches. Both of them. He vaguely remembered the old lady walking out of Palmer’s house, right before Deirdre left, and didn’t bother trying to smile. “I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but—”
He didn’t even get a chance to finish a hell of an insult, because the old lady lurched toward Deirdre and he immediately put himself between them. The old lady stepped back like she’d been scalded, though that didn’t stop her from spewing a whole bunch of hate at Deirdre. “What are you doing with these animals? How dare you sully yourself with one of the beasts? I knew no good would come of you cooperating with them, and now look. You’re—copulating with animals.”
Mercy started talking louder to the florist, dragging her to the front of the store, as the woman looked in their direction and started to pay attention. Which was just as well, since Evershaw planned to murder Deirdre’s aunt and deal with the consequences later.
But Deirdre hardly blinked. “You don’t know anything about this, Estelle, since you never bothered to ask me what I wanted or what I planned to do. I’m going to live my own life, as far from you and the coven as possible, and I expect you to leave me alone.”
The aunt drew herself up for a hell of an ass-chewing, but Evershaw wasn’t having it. He smiled and showed all of his teeth. “Or else.”
“Or else what?” the woman spat.
“Or else I’ll kill you.”
She blinked.
He’d never liked beating around the bush. There wasn’t any reason to veil threats in fancy language or euphemism. Just go ahead and fucking say it. He got his point across.
Palmer’s eyes narrowed. “There’s no need for—”
“Mind your business,” Evershaw said. He looked between the two of them and carefully put Deirdre behind him, shooing her toward the door. “I know where both of you live and I know what you smell like. I can track you to the ends of the earth if I want to, and there’s nothing you can do to hide yourself. I have over fifty wolves sworn to obey me who will track you down and drag you back to me if I order them. If you so much as breathe Deirdre’s name or look in her direction, I will know and I will find you. Got it?”
Estelle stared at him as if he’d just sprouted that fucking cat of Deirdre’s from his forehead, and didn’t move or even blink. He gave up on a meaningful response from her and looked at Palmer instead.
The kid stuttered and blinked, trying to formulate a reply, but Evershaw wasn’t going to wait. He turned on his heel and strode out, hustling Deirdre out ahead of him, and didn’t stop to breathe until he’d put her in the back seat of the SUV with instructions for Henry to drive if there was a hint of trouble.
Todd muttered under his breath and Evershaw tensed as the door opened and Palmer stepped into the sunshine, Mercy on his heels. The sweaty kid held out a hand. “Wait. Please. I think you’ve misunderstood.”
“I haven’t misunderstood shit, kid. Stay away from Deirdre.”
“I was just concerned about her,” he said. He scrubbed his hands over his face and looked less like a clueless douchebag and more like a kid who hadn’t gotten enough guidance or hard knocks in his life. “She’s been erratic since she lost her mother, and there’s something wrong with her magic, and her aunt is very hard on her, as you can imagine. I just meant to check in on Deirdre and see how I can help. I didn’t realize you two were dating. I apologize if I was defensive earlier; I didn’t know what your intentions were.”
Evershaw didn’t let his guard down. “She’s not your concern. She’s fine.”
“I’m sure you’ve got it covered,” he said. The kid hesitated, then pulled a business card from his pocket, offering it to Evershaw. His hand trembled as he held it. “This is my contact information, in case Deirdre needs any magical help. Her aunt probably isn’t a good place to turn for assistance, but I’m—well, I’ll always care for Deirdre. Please tell her I’m sorry about what her aunt said. The rest of the coven supports Deirdre and wishes her well.”
He eyed the kid but didn’t see much beyond an earnest little dirtbag. He took the card. “Fine. Don’t call her and don’t let that hag inside say a fucking word against Deirdre, got it?”
Palmer shoved his hands in his pockets as he nodded, then slouched his way down the sidewalk in the direction of his car. Evershaw watched him go, then jerked his head at the car so Mercy jumped into the back with Deirdre. He got into the front passenger seat and scowled out the windshield. Henry took a deep breath, about to pull out, then Deirdre leaned forward between the seats and looked at Evershaw. “Care to fill me in on what that was about?”
“I need a drink first,” he muttered, and it was the truest damn thing he’d said all day.
Chapter 38
Deirdre
I expected all of us to head back to Miles’s room as soon as we arrived at the giant warehouse, but instead he muttered something to Mercy and strode off with Todd. I blinked and looked around, wondering if I’d missed something or misinterpreted his demeanor in the store, and found both Henry and Mercy grinning at me.
Which immediately made me suspicious. “What?”
“Let’s go upstairs,” Mercy said, linking her arm through mine. “After all that drama, I bet you want a nice hot bath to relax.”
“No, I’d rather have a couple of beers,” I said. I didn’t exactly set my heels, but I didn’t want to just scamper off and not address what the hell happened. “Or whiskey. Baths don’t do anything for me.”
Mercy acted like I weighed no more than Cricket and was happily skipping along at her side. “Great. Then you take a shower and I’ll make some snacks, then we can drink as much as we want and watch movies and it’ll be great.”
Henry moseyed along behind us, no doubt to keep me moving in the same direction, and didn’t comment when I looked back to give him the stink-eye. “Why do I have to shower? Is there something you’re not telling me? Did I step in something?”
Mercy ignored a few people we passed in the hall and didn’t comment again until we were up the three flights of stairs to get to Miles’s wing of the building. Only when we were inside, headed for where his suite was did she go on, and she still lowered her voice. “You smell like your aunt and that kid. So you have to change that.”
“The hell I do.” I pulled free and stopped short, my arms over my chest. “What the hell difference does it make?”
“Eversha
w can’t—”
“He can grow the fuck up and stop pouting about bullshit that doesn’t matter,” I said. “Are you seriously going to tell me he won’t talk to me until I take a shower? What a fucking waste of water.”
“He’s not pouting,” Henry said. He took a deep breath, eyes rolling to the ceiling as he looked for guidance or salvation. “It’s more complicated. And hard to explain.”
I didn’t budge. “Try.”
Mercy almost bounced on her toes but Henry waved her off, squeezing the bridge of his nose like he had a serious headache. “Don’t overreact.”
“I think we all know how that’s going to go,” I muttered.
“Okay,” he said. “Then don’t shoot the messenger.” He waited until I rolled my eyes and agreed, then went on, choosing each word with care. “It’s pretty clear that the alpha likes you. The problem with what happened today was that he found you in a small place, outnumbered by people who meant to harm you or tried to insult you, and another male kept touching you when you clearly didn’t welcome it.”
Henry stopped, like that was enough to explain the situation, and I looked between the two of them. I’d definitely slipped into another alternate reality. Definitely not the same one as Estelle and Palmer lived in, nor the normal reality where I thought I’d always lived, but some other bullshit reality where people turned into animals and acted like it was normal to flip out about what someone smelled like. “That’s a regular day for me, Hank. A typical Tuesday. Keep going.”
Henry grumbled, glancing over my shoulder at someone farther down the hall, then tilted his head to try and convince me to keep walking. “I can explain more—”
