her enchanted

by Hartley, Emilia

  Nessa pressed her lips together and looked away. He thought he’d lost her. He really shouldn’t have overstepped the line earlier. When Miles called him, he’d told Caz that Nessa was interested. It seemed Miles had played a trick on him.

  “I, uh, guess that will have to work.” Her expression softened when she met his eyes. The time-bomb had been defused, but for how long?

  Caz wondered what had defused her ire. Had it been Tricia’s display? Or, was it his offer to do free work? He could feel Jacob’s gaze on the back of his neck. It burned a hole through Caz. Over and over, he offered to do free work while the shop was bleeding money. He wished he could tell Jacob and the other shifters that he’d taken a fifty percent pay cut to make sure they got paid.

  He had the feeling they wouldn’t feel comfortable with his decision. They would rather he keep taking money from those who didn’t have it than offer to hurt his own income for them. It was a bullheaded way of looking at things.

  “Uh, maybe we could…discuss the other thing?”

  Caz paused, turning back toward her. “The other thing?”

  Nessa rolled her eyes. He was woefully lost if she thought he should know what she was talking about. He waited, patient compared to her. The time-bomb was firing up again, ready to burst, but she clenched her hand at her side and managed to spit out a handful of words.

  “The date thing. I wouldn’t mind…not for free work, but for fun?”

  Butterflies fluttered in his stomach. He could feel a smile spreading across his lips. When she looked up at him, his heart threatened to stop. Gone was her anger. In its place was fear and hope. He could have scooped her up right then and there.

  “I’ll call you,” he said through his goofy grin. “Your number is on your file, right?”

  Stunned, she nodded. “Uh, okay. So, I’ll hear from you. Later?”

  “Yeah, later.”

  He could have kicked himself. His ability to use words completely fled while he looked at her. The tiny woman turned him inside out. Her body was hidden beneath the layers of her flirty skirt and boxy blazer, but as she sashayed away he could see the promise of a full rear.

  “If you’re done with your pathetic attempt at rutting, I need you to sign for this shipment.” Jacob thrust a clipboard at Caz.

  He could have reprimanded the youngster for his words, but Caz wasn’t in the mood to care. Jacob would go on hating him no matter what Caz did. He would wait for the youngster to do something stupid before yelling at him again because, inevitably, the hot-headed shifter would cross Caz again.

  He knew the strain on the garage was breaking Caz’s control on his Pack. Many of the older shifters trusted Caz. They knew he was trying, even if they didn’t know how. The younger ones, men who’d been boys when Caz rose to power or shifters that joined the Pack much after, looked upon Caz as if he were weak for what he did.

  It was a struggle to hold power over creatures like shifters and still show kindness. He knew it was, in part, why Oscar had shown the world his worst side. The Alpha of Santa Cruz had hidden behind the façade for years. Caz decided to be the person Oscar pretended he was. Force and action compelled better behavior.

  Jacob watched Caz like a hunter stalking prey. The shifter would grow into a strong man. He was already older than Caz had been when he’d risen to power. The burning gaze on the back of Caz’s neck threatened a repetition of history. Should he let Jacob win, the Pack would change. He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  As happy as Caz was for the date he’d scored with Vanessa Caldwell, he couldn’t let it go to his head. He couldn’t risk letting his guard down.

  Then, the scent of earth and rotting things reached his nose, and he realized he had in fact let his guard down. Hillary leaned against his office door, grinning like the cat who caught the mouse. Caz stopped in his tracks. She wore a short pencil skirt, and he could tell there was nothing beneath it from the scent that tinged the air.

  She lifted one leg, letting her foot rise along the wall in invitation.

  “I’m going to get a restraining order,” he grumbled.

  “It would never work.” She grinned victoriously.

  She would just charm the police into telling him he had no grounds to stand on. No one would ever look at her and see the monster that lay beneath her skin. Only Caz would know what she was.

  “I have work to do. Unless you brought a car for me to fix, then I suggest you get out of here.”

  “I have something else you could work on,” she suggested.

  “I said no.” He moved to push past her into his office, but she reached out. Her fingers grazed his neck and her spell filled him.

  Her touch was poison and euphoria all at once. He slammed his fist into the door, dropping his head as a groan spilled out of him. Hillary sidled up to him, the grin still on her lips as she bent toward him.

  “You belong to me. Never forget that. All of this belongs to me.”

  Caz managed to fight against her spell, little by little. He gritted his teeth and bit out a few words. “Over my dead body.”

  She didn’t love him. Hillary loved the power he had. There was an entire pack of shifters beneath him. He didn’t want to know what she thought she would do with such terrible power. He had to keep fighting against her, even though she leaned into him. Her skin pressed against his. Her breasts pressed against his chest.

  “No.”

  She purred, rolling her body beneath him. He hated her, hated that once upon a time he’d thought he loved her. The love had quickly consumed him, perhaps opening the door for her awful powers.

  Caz put his hands on her shoulders and firmly pushed Hillary back. Her scent climbed into his nose, all musk and desire now. She’d changed it to lure him in, but the knowledge of what was at risk kept him back. He couldn’t fall for her tricks again.

  “So, you want to ditch me for that pussy cat?” Hillary’s voice sharpened.

  Caz lunged for her before she could make it out the door. He didn’t know where Vanessa went, but he could buy her some time. His stomach dropped before he reached Hillary. She’d gone to a matchmaker, he remembered. Vanessa was the only matchmaker he knew in all of California.

  While he held Hillary’s arm, he prayed that she’d lied to him. If she had gone to a matchmaker, that meant she knew where Vanessa lived. His stomach tightened. Hillary left him no room to move on with his life, threatening everything he stepped near. Even his Pack.

  “I want us to find our true mates,” Caz reasoned.

  He couldn’t ignore the obsessive fire that burned in the witch’s eyes. She might have believed her own lies and truly thought they were fated mates. The idea was sickening. The only future he could see with Hillary involved a collar. She wouldn’t love him the way a mate would. There would be no tenderness. He was a tool.

  Maybe that was how she saw everyone.

  He wished he could tip her into the lap of another Alpha, but he couldn’t let her ruin the lives of another pack. No, Hillary was his problem. He would deal with her until she got bored or destroyed him. Whichever came first.

  Chapter Six

  Nessa smiled despite herself. The day before, she’d scoffed at the thought of dating Caz Frost. He was off limits in every way. But, the time she’d spent in his garage seemed to have changed her mind.

  A little.

  He wasn’t quite the man she’d thought he was. The strong-arm Alpha was still there. She could see it in the way he spoke to his shifters, but there was a softness to him she hadn’t expected. From what she could glean from the interaction with the woman who’d burst into the lobby, Caz had done free work for her without telling her.

  Nessa hadn’t expected that kind of behavior. It had her checking her phone all day. Over and over. By the time she clocked out at work, she found herself frowning at the screen. She’d expected a call sooner. Even one from a mechanic letting her know what was wrong with her car. The day passed, but there was no word.

  Nessa wasn�
��t looking forward to the walk from work to the shop again, but she would have to make it if she was ever going to get her car back. By the time she reached the garage, her feet ached in her flats. She would have shifted and walked, but there was no way a cat could carry her clothing. She would be naked as the day she was born when she arrived.

  Disappointment made her stomach sink. The garage was shut down for the day. The doors had been pulled shut and locked. There were no lights on, no voices inside that she could call out to.

  Nessa glanced at the hill that loomed over downtown Monterey. She was not looking forward to climbing it to get home. She could, if she wanted, hide her clothing nearby and walk home as a cat. The beast had enough energy for the both of them. Then they could take a nap.

  It sounded like a good plan. She stepped around to the back of the building, already shedding her blazer and searching for somewhere to hide it, when she heard sound coming from the nearby door. There was a dent in it, as if someone had punched it recently.

  The sound was unintelligible. It could have been an animal or a wild shifter, and yet Nessa still stepped closer. Just as she was about to knock on the door, it swung open.

  Caz lurched out, eyes going wide at the sight of Nessa. She stumbled back, alarmed. His face looked drawn, the circles beneath his eyes dark, and his cheeks slightly gaunt. It was his eyes that bothered her the most. They were red-rimmed, so dark that she thought he’d been crying blood.

  Instinctively, she reached for him. She pushed his shoulders back and tilted his chin up to get a better look at him. Worry made her stomach churn. He leaned into her touch, as if he could barely hold himself. After a moment, Caz seemed to remember himself. She was reaching for his cheek when he reared back.

  For a moment, he swayed on his own two feet. Then he found his balance.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Her words were sharp, but her voice betrayed her concern.

  Caz shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Oh, I’m going to worry about it if the guy fixing my car, the guy I agreed to go on a date with, has a drug problem.”

  He laughed. It was bitter and barbed. “Shifters don’t have the best luck with drugs. They don’t last like they do for humans. If a shifter wanted to get high, they’d need to purchase five times as much as a human. It’s not financially smart.”

  “Call me naïve, but I didn’t think drugs were ever smart, let alone financially smart.”

  “Touché,” Caz noted. “Still, I promise I’m not on drugs. I’m just having a bad day. I had, uh, a visitor after you left. She always leaves me like this.”

  He turned away from her, digging through his pocket for something, and coming up with a fistful of keys.

  Nessa wanted to ask questions. The mention of another woman bothered her more than she would have liked to admit. Then she remembered. “About five foot seven? Perfect caramel colored hair in a gleaming top knot?”

  Caz shot up straight, his eyes wide as they slowly moved to her. “You stay away from her. You hear me? If she comes anywhere near you, you lock the doors or run in the other direction. Promise me you won’t go anywhere near that woman.”

  Nessa took a step back, confusion rippling through her. It dredged through her stomach, bringing with it bile that burned her throat. “She’s a client. I can’t just…”

  Before she saw him move, Caz was before her. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her, gently. His eyes were wild with fear. She felt the urge to comfort him. Instead, she curled her fingers into fists to keep from touching him.

  “Hillary is a witch. She’ll skin you if she sees you as competition. I don’t want…” He choked on his own voice. His hands slid down her bare shoulders, a light caressing touch as if she were already something he couldn’t bear the thought of losing.

  Nessa, feeling defiance shoot through her, ducked out from beneath his touch. Caz couldn’t tell her what to do. He wasn’t her Alpha. She had no Alpha. He wasn’t even her friend.

  “Is my car finished?” Her voice became clipped as she looked away from him.

  Caz sighed, a growl threaded through the sound. Nessa didn’t back down. The cat inside her was not only unafraid, as always, but also attracted to Caz. It wanted to rub against his legs and purr until he calmed. The cat didn’t like his fear and concern. It wanted to promise him that it and Nessa would be okay.

  Nessa, on the other hand, was sick of his bullshit. Caz was clearly going through something. She sniffed the air around him, as if she actually knew what drugs would smell like. Caz and Hillary were probably having a shitty breakup, and Nessa had been pulled into it on both ends.

  The situation unraveled in her head. Hillary wanted to win him back, seeking a matchmaker who might convince him that they were meant to be together. Caz, on the other hand, did the same thing most men did. He deemed Hillary a crazy ex-girlfriend and warned anyone in his life to stay away from her as if he expected her to blow up at any second.

  Nessa rolled her eyes. Men were dramatic, but Hillary also needed to know when to let go. If Caz wasn’t interested anymore, that was that. You couldn’t force something that didn’t work.

  “If my car isn’t finished, can I at least get a ride home? It’s easier than hiding my clothing in your parking lot before shifting.” Although, if he was still high, she wouldn’t want him driving.

  Nessa was about to rescind her request when Caz rolled his shoulders back and brought his chin up. His eyes seemed clearer with each passing second.

  “I can take you home. I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to look at it. If you need, I could pick you up tomorrow and take you to work. I could…even pick you up from work and take you to dinner.”

  “You are persistent,” Nessa acknowledged, already stalking toward the last truck in the parking lot. “But, I don’t want to get mixed up in your shit until you get it together. Tell Hillary you’re done and then call me.”

  Nessa reached for the door handle on the passenger side of the truck.

  “That’s not mine.”

  She froze. After a second, Nessa glanced around. There was nothing else in the lot besides a classic convertible. It looked like a show piece, cherry red with white leather seats. She’d assumed someone had brought it in for repairs. When she looked from it to Caz, he grinned and nodded.

  The boyish smile on his lips made her heart do backflips.

  “Oh, uh. Alright then.” She smoothed a hand over her already wild hair and worried about what it might look like when he dropped her off.

  Awkwardly, she held the back of her skirt, lowered herself into the passenger seat of the convertible, and offered her address. The engine roared like a bear trapped beneath the hood, perhaps part of why Caz loved it the way he did. She could tell how he felt from the way he gently handled the steering wheel and ran his thumb over the gear shift. The car glided out of the lot, only jostling when the lot met the lower street.

  They cruised through town, not fast enough to tangle her hair. The scent of ocean and rose gardens greeted her nose while Victorian houses and ranch style homes unfurled along the street. Silence sat between them. Her house wasn’t too far away, just up the hill on Franklin Street.

  “I meant what I said. Even if Hillary is paying you, cut off the contract. She can’t be trusted.”

  Nessa sighed and rolled her eyes, but before she could tell him to stop being so dramatic, he reached over and grasped her hand. The skin-on-skin contact sent a shock through her that scrambled her brain. All she could do was look down helplessly at their conjoined hands while her heart fluttered.

  “Hillary is dangerous. Not just to me, but to anyone who she views as a threat. I shouldn’t be driving you home right now. She’ll think we’re more than we are.” His hand on the steering wheel grew pale, knuckles tightening until the blood left.

  “I still don’t get it. What is there to fear from a cougar shifter? Are you saying this because you think I can’t handle myself?”

  H
e did a double take, glancing between her and the road with clear surprise. “She told you she was a cougar shifter?”

  “Well, yeah. She smelled like one. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

  “Hillary isn’t a shifter.” His words were whipped away by the air rushing past them. Nessa barely had time to process them. “She’s a witch.”

  Her stomach sank. The scent had been real. She’d smelled it herself, but it was only a scent. She knew nothing about witches, but it couldn’t be that difficult to shape a scent in the air. Hillary might even have simply distorted Nessa’s perception. There were so many ways it could have happened, so many holes she could poke into what she thought she knew.

  Her breath slipped from her lips, ragged and uneven. A moment of panic swelled and crashed into her, but just as quickly as it came, it was gone again. The infallible confidence of her inner cat washed over her. It saw Hillary as just another woman, just another client.

  She would close the account and promise Hillary she wanted nothing to do with Caz. Her inner cat did not like that at all. It made her fingers tighten around his. The cat wanted Caz and it wouldn’t let something as insignificant as a witch stand in its way. Nessa wanted to howl at the damned creature and the trouble it caused.

  They couldn’t have Caz. Not only was he a brute, but he was marked by a witch. They didn’t need that kind of trouble. There were other men out there, other men who came with less baggage.

  “Are you alright? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Nessa laughed. “You know those videos of cats chasing away alligators and bears? That pretty much sums up the personality of a cat. My beast…she isn’t the kind to be frightened of anything. Even against my better judgement.”

  The car glided to a stop. Nessa looked up, surprised to see her own home already. The windows were dark beneath the car port. Her breath shuddered when she remembered that Hillary knew where she lived. It would be alright, though, because Nessa would explain everything.

  Yet, when she looked back to Caz, her resolve wavered. His eyes were soft, filled with concern over the situation he’d dropped on her doorstep. He was the kind of man who could deal with other men, used to using force and fists to resolve issues if his voice didn’t work. Now, he was caught in the net of a woman. Not only a woman, but one with magic.