Witch Hunt

by Layla Nash

  Deirdre lifted her head, still puzzled. “What time is it?”

  “Still late,” he said. “You’re in my bed, babe. I’d love for you to stay, but only if you want to.”

  She rubbed her eyes, yawning, then nodded and burrowed deeper under the covers. “Yeah.”

  Evershaw grinned, picking up the cat to drop it on the floor and hustle it toward the door with his foot, and went around to slide into the bed from the other side. Fucking finally. He caught the back of her T-shirt and dragged her into the middle of the king-size mattress with him, and Deirdre squeaked and laughed and flailed just enough that the wolf got interested. He spooned her, locking his arms and legs around her, and pressed his nose into her hair as he growled.

  Deirdre laughed a little breathlessly, adjusting how her head rested on his arm, and glanced up at him. “Where did Cricket go?”

  “Outside,” Evershaw grumbled. “He wanted to go outside. Something about a bird.”

  She eyed him, those green eyes flashing. “At night? A bird at night?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled and closed his eyes, distracted by the swell of her ass pressed against his groin. “A friend of his, I think.”

  “You’re so full of shit.” Deirdre elbowed him and pushed up, like she meant to squirm free and go after the cat. “Where did he go?”

  He kissed the back of her neck and tried to keep the rest of himself under control. “Todd left some steak out. Or chicken. The cat is very happy to stay outside.”

  Deirdre flopped on her back, looking up at him, and managed a mock-stern look. “Do not be mean to Cricket. He’s my precious baby and I would be lost without him.”

  “I know.” Evershaw leaned down to kiss the tip of her nose. “But he keeps distracting you.”

  “From what?” she demanded, exasperated, and dodged another lazy attempt to kiss her.

  “From me.” He smiled and bumped his nose against hers, giving her plenty of warning, and only after her soft inhale did he seal his lips to hers.

  Evershaw didn’t move over her like he wanted, and instead gave her plenty of room to wiggle free. And Deirdre responded hesitantly at first before she relaxed and let him in. He counted that as a victory and broke the kiss, though he kissed along her jaw and temple and throat until Deirdre laughed and sighed and moved a little closer to his body.

  She finally put her hand over his mouth, still laughing, and each blink took longer and longer for her eyes to open again. “Well, then you should be more interesting, bucko.”

  “I’ll do my best.” Evershaw patted her butt and flopped onto his back, dragging her against his side so he could keep her close and cover them both with the sheets and big fluffy comforters. He needed her to rest and recover, since his dumb ass kept getting poisoned and needed to be healed. “But I’m tired now so you better keep your hands to yourself, girl.”

  Deirdre mumbled something that was lost as she pressed her face against his arm. Evershaw relaxed and hoped no one disturbed them until at least noon.

  Chapter 44

  Deirdre

  I woke up in the dark, disoriented, and tried to sit up to figure out where the hell I was. A weight across my chest didn’t move when I tried to push it aside, which meant it wasn’t Cricket. I blinked and squinted and found instead a massive, muscled arm, attached to a massive, muscled man.

  Miles.

  The night came back in flashes and my face burned as I studied his profile. He didn’t look nearly so grumpy asleep. All the tension disappeared from around his mouth and in the tendons of his neck, making him look a good five years younger and a hell of a lot less grim. He lay on his side next to me, all of him relaxed except for a very particular part of his anatomy.

  He’d kicked the comforter back so only a thin sheet covered us, and the sweatpants he wore did not do anything to diminish or control the massive hard-on he had. I closed my eyes again and tried not to smile, since it was kind of flattering? It had been a while since I actually woke up next to a guy. Sunlight flooded the room and made everything pleasantly warm, along with the heat from his body that kicked out like a furnace.

  My whole body ached with fatigue, though, despite the comfortable mattress and deliciously soft sheets and pillows, and I could have slept another whole day at least. I definitely didn’t want to be the one who woke up and got the day started. There was no telling who else was in the living room, and no way in hell I wanted to be the first one to face them and deal with the awkward questions and jokes. It hadn’t even taken a week before I ended up in bed with him, after starting out ready to murder him, even though we hadn’t had sex.

  He was a charming bastard, I had to give him that. When he wasn’t being an asshole.

  I couldn’t even pinpoint the moment when I stopped being mad and started thinking of him as a person instead of just someone who got in my way. Miles managed to crack through that ice queen exterior, despite my mantra, and wormed his way through. I shook my head but froze when he grumbled and stirred. I pretended to still be asleep as his arm moved and his palm drifted down across my breast to rest on my stomach. Miles muttered something under his breath and he kissed my forehead and my temple, then started to untangle himself from the sheets and me.

  I took a breath and turned into him, wanting him to stay, and Miles squeezed me tight before moving a little awkwardly to adjust how he lay. “Babe, I might need a second.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t mind it.”

  He chuckled and patted my ass. “You need to rest for longer, witch. And if I stay in bed with you, I won’t be able to keep my hands to myself and we’ll end up all sweaty and exhausted.”

  “We don’t want that,” I murmured, even though I kind of did.

  And he did too, from the way he groaned, but Miles untangled himself and staggered off to the bathroom. I curled around a pillow instead and pressed my face into the downy softness, hiding my smile. Unbelievable.

  I dozed as the shower ran in the other room, and it was like I’d blinked and then Miles stood next to the bed. He smelled clean and minty, his hair wet and still shaggy like he hadn’t bothered to comb it, and brushed my hair back from my face. “Sleep, babe. I’ll get breakfast together in a bit, but you’re going to nap all day, got it?”

  “I really shouldn’t,” I said, and pushed up on my elbows so I could yawn without inhaling half of the pillow. “We have to figure out what happened that made you—”

  He cut me off with another kiss, the gentle pressure of his lips distracting me, and I was still dazed as he worked his fingers into my hair to massage my scalp as he murmured, “You used up too much energy or magic or whatever saving my life, so you’re going to sleep and eat and sleep some more until you’ve recharged your witch batteries.”

  I cracked an eye open. “There’s no such thing as witch batteries.”

  “Says you,” he said. He smiled and it warmed me from the inside out. He gazed at me and I was caught, completely captured, at what I saw in his eyes—something soft and caring and complete. Something a little bit like love, if I let myself hope. Miles smiled and winked, breaking the spell, and kissed me one more time before he straightened, smacked my ass, and disappeared out the door.

  I dragged the comforter up over my face so it muffled my laugh, and the semi-familiar scent of his detergent and skin curled around me like his embrace. God help me, I was in trouble.

  Chapter 45

  Miles

  He didn’t want to leave her side, but he could hear someone stirring in the living room and kitchen. Evershaw took his time in the shower, stroking himself as he thought of Deirdre’s soft ass pressed against him and the heft of her breast in his palm, and felt a little more in control by the time he was dressed and ready to face the day. Not that that made it easy to walk away from the witch as she curled up in his bed.

  Mercy had been busy in the kitchen while he still slept, and she was putting the finishing touches on a stack of pancakes and grilled steaks when Evershaw finally sh
uffled out to get himself a cup of coffee. Mercy started dishing massive amounts of food onto a plate. “Are you feeling better? How’s Deirdre?”

  “She’s sleeping,” he said, fighting back a yawn. “And I feel good enough. We have to get to the bottom of what the hell is going on.”

  Mercy nodded, not looking at him. “Todd is working on it with Smith. Something about research and sensing your environment or testing samples and stuff. He’s on his way back, so he can explain it.”

  Evershaw’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. Something was up. “Mercy.”

  “Yeah?” She didn’t turn away from the stove, though, and kept her attention on the frying pan full of scrambled eggs and peppers and cheese.

  “Look at me, pup.”

  She shook her head and took a shaky breath. “I have to finish the eggs.”

  “Mercy,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”

  She cleared her throat and abruptly turned, dashing tears from her cheeks, to glare at him. “What?”

  Evershaw laughed, catching her shoulders. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you crying?”

  “You almost died,” she said. Her fist collided with his side and Evershaw grunted. Mercy waved the egg-covered spatula under his nose. “You looked dead, lying there on the couch. L-Like you actually were dead, and you didn’t get up, and Deirdre just looked paler and paler and nothing changed, nothing happened.”

  “Come on, pup,” he said, and drew her close for a hug. “I’m fine. It all worked out.”

  Mercy tried to hit him again. “But next time it might not. And you keep getting sick and everyone wants to kill you and Deirdre won’t be here forever. We need you, damn it. You can’t just…you can’t just leave.”

  “I won’t.” Evershaw pinched the bridge of his nose and prayed for patience and a little guidance. What the fuck was he supposed to do? “I won’t leave. It’ll be fine. We’ll figure out what’s going on and then I’ll do my best to stop almost-dying.”

  “Just stop being such an asshole to everyone,” Mercy muttered. She pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve, and glared at him fiercely through reddened eyes. “Stop making people want to kill you, okay?”

  “I’ll do my best.” He tweaked the end of her nose and nodded at the stove. “And you’re burning my eggs, girl.”

  She cursed and yanked the pan off the stove, though she smacked him with the spatula and left scrambled eggs all over his clean T-shirt. “That’s what I’m talking about! Don’t be such a jerk.”

  So he tugged on her ponytail and refilled his coffee cup. “You know you love me.”

  She grumbled and grimaced, muttering to herself as she scraped the eggs onto a platter, and didn’t stop even after Todd and Henry appeared. Henry practically tiptoed into the room, looking around for the witch, and Evershaw concentrated on eating as much as possible so he could get his strength back to be strong for Deirdre. “What’s the news?”

  “Glad to see you’re up and about, no worse for wear.” Todd slapped his shoulder and took the chair next to him at the counter, nodding his thanks to Mercy for a tall stack of pancakes and an equally massive pile of corned beef hash. “Smith is narrowing things down. He’s consulting with the djinn, since that guy apparently knows all about bad magic and ways to fuck people over with it.”

  “So Smith thinks it was magic this time and not poison?” Evershaw frowned as he took a breath and paused for more coffee. It felt like he hadn’t eaten in months. “That doesn’t make any sense. The only witch I’ve been around is Deirdre, and those two at the florist’s. They didn’t do anything to me or she would have noticed.”

  No one spoke for so long that the air grew heavy and tense. Evershaw shook his head, immediately rejecting the unspoken conclusion. “No. It’s not possible. She wouldn’t have cursed me or hexed me or whatever this is. She couldn’t have, not with Smith’s whatsit on me. She literally couldn’t without harming herself.”

  “I know,” Todd said quietly. “But maybe she was pretending. Smith said he didn’t understand how the geas had warped and changed. Maybe she changed it.”

  “No,” Evershaw said. He pushed away from the counter and debated punching his cousin right in the face for thinking such vile things about Deirdre.

  “It’s only been—what, four days? Five? And she’s already curled up in your bed?” Todd folded his arms over his chest and refused to meet Evershaw’s gaze. “Come on, man. She was ready to kill you when we brought her back here. Maybe this was just a way for her to get even by pretending to go along with things, helping you catch the first guilty party, then setting you up so she could take her revenge.”

  “It’s not possible. I would know.”

  “Evershaw, you have to consider—”

  “No,” Evershaw growled. He caught a handful of his cousin’s throat and yanked him close until there was no way for Todd to look away. “Listen to me. She’s not behind it. The next person who suggests it is dead. Understood?”

  Todd’s voice gurgled but he didn’t try to get away from Evershaw’s grip on his throat. “Understood.”

  Evershaw released him and practically threw him at the door. “Go figure it out somewhere else. Get with Smith or Edgar Chase or O’Shea’s mate or whoever. I don’t give a fuck. It’s not Deirdre.”

  His cousin muttered about stupidity and blindspots but Evershaw didn’t care. He scowled at Henry and Mercy as he returned to his coffee. “Not a word.”

  Henry shook his head and kept his attention on a sliver of bacon. “Nope. Nothing to say.”

  “Good.” He didn’t wait for Mercy to say anything and instead scowled down at his plate. “Update me when we hear back from Smith. And put a tracker team on that kid, Palmer, and the witch’s aunt. I want to know what they’re doing, just in case they’re behind this.”

  Henry picked up one last chunk of steak and disappeared again, leaving Evershaw to stew in his thoughts and the tiny little wiggle of doubt that Todd’s bullshit speculation planted in his mind. Deirdre definitely wasn’t behind the second round of illness. It wasn’t possible. Sure, her attitude changed, but that was because her own people drugged her and betrayed her and Evershaw was there to rescue her.

  Unless the drugging was also a setup. He shoved to his feet to pace through the living room. It just wasn’t possible. It didn’t make sense. He’d seen it in her eyes—she felt something. That was genuine. She couldn’t have faked that. The way she reacted to him, the unconscious response when he touched her... He growled and clenched his fists. Deirdre couldn’t fake that. She hadn’t faked that.

  Mercy stayed in the kitchen, arms folded around herself, and whispered, “She couldn’t have.”

  “She didn’t.” He ran his hands through his hair and stared at the couch where he’d cuddled with Deirdre only a few hours before.

  He just wished he completely believed it.

  Chapter 46

  Deirdre

  I woke up alone but feeling far more rested. I stretched and yawned and took my time getting up, peering into the living room before I hustled across to the guest suite where all of my clothes were. By the time I’d changed and put my hair in order, Mercy had heated up what looked like half-breakfast, half-lunch and had the coffee ready. I rubbed my shoulder as I looked around the suite. “Where is everyone? Is Miles still okay?”

  “For the most part,” she said. The younger woman was far too subdued, though, and didn’t quite meet my eyes. “He’s meeting with Todd and Smith to talk about what happened.”

  “I should be there,” I said. I brushed my hands off and stood, though I eyed the sandwiches and wraps to see whether I could take some of it to go. “Where are they?”

  “You can’t,” she blurted out.

  I froze, my heart dropping into my stomach. They hadn’t prevented me from going anywhere except on the first day. I finished chewing the bite of pancakes and folded my arms over my chest as I looked at her. “Why not?”

  Mercy shrugged and fussed with some o
f the dirty pans in the sink. “Just because. Smith had some stuff he learned about the magic that caused Evershaw’s episode last night, and he wanted to update Todd and…and…”

  “Magic caused it?” I sat slowly on the chair once more, staring at the fridge but not seeing it as I shuffled through my memory for any hints of when or how it happened. “Then I should be there to—”

  “You can’t,” she repeated. “Todd said you had to stay here.”

  “And Miles agreed with him?” I frowned and glanced at the door, wondering at the change. Just a few hours ago, he’d been all about snuggling up in bed and spending the day asleep together. “I don’t need more rest; I feel fine. And I don’t think Smith’s magic will work on this. What he does is different.”

  Mercy took a deep breath and braced her hands on the counter. “Alpha’s orders. You stay here. But it’s okay, we’ll watch some movies and wait it out and I’m sure Smith will explain everything. Evershaw will come back and we’ll all have dinner. What should we make?”

  “He’s ordered you to keep me here?” There had to be a reason. There was always a reason for everything Miles did. Maybe he wanted me to rest and stay in one place, in case he grew ill again. Or maybe there was some other reason. “Why? What changed?”

  She didn’t look at me. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me. But about dinner—”

  Which was bullshit. If it had been something good, she would have been bouncy and chatty and much more willing to tell me all about it. Which meant it wasn’t good. My heartrate ticked up as I slid to my feet. “Tell me why, Mercy. What did I do wrong?”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, and attempted a smile. “Just Smith being Smith, I think.”

  But she still wouldn’t meet my gaze and my stomach twisted in warning. I didn’t want to give her any signs that I was worried, though, so she wouldn’t assume I was actually guilty of anything. I shrugged and wandered back toward the guest room. “I’m still feeling a little off. Think I’ll lie down again and try to nap.”