by Anya Breton
“What car was Irvin in?”
Brook’s colorless delivery sent his teeth into a grind.
She’d made her point. The empathic link she had lassoed around him would notify her of his shifting emotions. Why did she have to force him to speak them too?
Several times since she’d arrived in Northern Indiana she’d ignored his questions as if he were beneath the effort it took to form syllables. She could have a taste of her own medicine. He focused on his drawn reflection in the side mirror instead of speaking.
Road signs flitted past the window at a rapid pace. At least three intersections faded into the landscape beyond before she spoke.
“I know you don’t want to talk about this. I wouldn’t make you if I didn’t need to know the answer.” Brook paused a beat, perhaps giving him a chance to speak up on his own. “Was Irvin in the car with your father?”
“Yes.” His answer had been barely audible and yet she’d heard it. She must have because her shoulders slumped.
Slumped. As if she gave a shit. As if she wasn’t secretly gleeful his world was crashing down around him.
Irvin had been in the car that night. He’d walked away with minor injuries. Ryan Seaton had had to be removed in pieces.
Was his uncle responsible for the death of Morgan’s father? Could Irvin have magically manipulated the truck drivers into generating the pileup around them without harming him? Or was it merely a case of luck that Irvin had walked away from that horrible event?
The raw emotions flowing through him—turning his stomach and clenching his organs—needed an outlet before they manifested in genuine somatic pain. Trapped in a speeding car with none of his element to draw on for serenity, Morgan released them the only way he knew how.
“You’re just fucking loving this,” he snarled across the cabin at the beautiful woman focused on the windshield. “You can’t wait to say I told you so. This time when you fix my problem, you’re not going to leave me with angry children’s parents and a broken fishing pole. You’re going to destroy my life and break my heart.”
Though she made no outward move at the slip of his tongue, emotion rammed against his consciousness. He forged on with more complaints in the hope she’d forget his most recent words.
“And this time you’re going to get paid to screw up everything. More than that, you might get a promotion! You really found your calling—making a living proving to trusting people how stupid you think they are. I’m no longer surprised you’re one of the best. This is the life you were born to. I’m only surprised you weren’t a Master level Ranger already. How many lives have you destroyed since you started working for them? Have you been keeping count? Do you keep a scrapbook of your triumphs or trophies like a serial killer?”
Morgan’s jaw hung open upon hearing the words emit from his lips.
He’d gone too far. She was a respected member of the Underground, someone his people had engaged to help, and he’d treated her as though she’d forced her services on him. No one deserved the accusations he’d hurled. Least of all the woman who had saved his life less than twenty-four hours ago.
Before he could open his mouth and beg her forgiveness, Brook applied the brake and flipped the car’s signal and spoke in her colorless voice. “Feel better, Priest Seaton?”
He didn’t feel better. But his emotion had shifted. No longer was he fighting the roller coaster of depression, fear and disillusionment. Regret and shame had tunneled out his insides now.
Worse yet was when he noted why she’d slowed the car. Brook turned into a familiar restaurant’s parking lot. One of his favorite restaurants. His body stilled as she pulled into the drive-thru he utilized far too often.
“You still like strawberry shakes, don’t you?”
Morgan’s stomach seized at the seemingly innocuous question.
He loved strawberry shakes. They were his stress food item of choice.
And she’d remembered.
Clients often shouted at their Ranger. This wasn’t a new situation for Brook to be in. She’d learned early on not to take what they said in the heat of the moment to heart. Still, Brook had been hard-pressed not to shout back at this client.
Morgan had needed to get it off his chest. Now that he silently brooded in the passenger seat while she handed cash over for shakes, she sensed the shift in his emotions. He wasn’t furious with uncertainty any longer. The dominant thread was now remorse.
Driving aimlessly wasn’t working. She pulled into one of the nearby parking spots to send Judy, Master Destan’s assistant, a text message. Judy would research the area and find them a better place to hide out for the next day or so. Brook put in a request with her ideal specs. And then they were on the road again.
“Brook, I’m sorry,” Morgan said two miles from the restaurant.
He’d not touched his shake yet. She’d be miffed if he let it go to waste in his moodiness.
Brook made a dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it. Drink your shake.”
“I shouldn’t have said any of that. It was uncalled for. You’re only trying to help.”
“I’m trying to do a job.”
After their uncomfortable evening, they both needed the reminder.
“Why don’t you rest a bit,” Brook said in the hope he’d snooze and leave her be. “I’m not sure how long we’ll be driving.”
“I slept through the night.” His accusatory tone implied he wasn’t pleased with how she’d magically manipulated him. “Did you sleep?”
“Yes.” At least she’d slept as much as she ever did.
“Somehow I don’t believe you.”
“Maybe you don’t want to believe me.”
“I can drive for a bit if you’ll tell me where we’re going.”
“South. And no you can’t.”
He huffed and then went quiet. Several minutes and much sucking on his straw later, Morgan broke the silence. “Thank you for my shake.”
She nodded.
“How did you remember?”
“You don’t want to know.”
It had been easy to recall Morgan enjoyed pink strawberry milkshakes because it fit with his sugary-sweet outlook on life. Explaining this to him wouldn’t win her any points.
Another huff kept him quiet until Judy texted her with an address. Brook plugged the information into her navigation software and then began driving in earnest. The sooner they were off the roads and to a secure location the better.
* * * * *
“There are a lot of windows,” Morgan said upon stepping inside the spacious living area of the log cabin. He swiveled a half-turn toward Brook. “I thought you were anti-windows.”
Her lips thinned, matching the narrow line of her gaze as it scanned the interior. Brook’s agitation thumped against his consciousness like the bass at a dance club. She dug her phone out of the pocket of her indecently skinny jeans, bashed a button and then paced several feet away.
“Judy, this isn’t a safe house. I gave specific requirements. This doesn’t meet any of them except that it’s south. This…this…is like a honeymoon resort!”
Morgan swung away before she noted the humor in his eyes. And then he realized she was right. This log cabin on a hidden lake did feel like a lovers’ retreat.
His humor faded. He shoved a hand into his hair, tugging until pain burst in his scalp. But it didn’t wipe away the images of carrying Brook over the threshold.
“Master Destan, my weapons never arrived,” she said as if the phone had changed hands on the other end. “Someone must have intercepted them, because the tracking information claims they were delivered. So I have nothing to protect my client with and now your assistant has booked us into what looks like the location of the next American orgy movie. I’d have to clean out the local hardware store to fortify this place. It’s all glass! Judy assures me she checked with you before booking the rental. I find that hard to—” Brook halted both her speech and her pacing as though she’d been interrupted.
“Yes,” she said warily. “I understand they think he’s dead but that doesn’t mean we weren’t followed. I—” Brook’s fingers clenched into a fist. “Of course. I did everything in my power to ensure we weren’t tracked but I’m not an Earth witch.” She puffed in irritation. “My unbeaten score for the anti-tracking training course doesn’t mean I can compete with those who make it their job to—”
Morgan felt her frustration rising like a space heater kicking in.
“How am I supposed to relax and enjoy the view if there is a killer or killers out there looking for him? His house blew up last night—”
Destan had told her to relax and enjoy the view? That hardly seemed normal.
“This isn’t what I was trained for, Kyle,” Brook said. “A Ranger is never supposed to let her guard down while on the job.”
She paced to the opposite side of the cabin. “I’m glad you have that level of faith in my ability to go off the grid, especially considering I’m on the grid this very second speaking to you.”
Her usually throaty voice lifted. “What? How is this a test for Master level? You do understand a man’s life is at risk—” She sucked in a sharp breath. “You can’t be serious.” Brook exhaled noisily through her nose. Her next words shook out of her mouth. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. I can adapt—to any situation. I’m highly adaptable.”
Brook’s shoulders slumped. “Yes,” she said at a soft volume. “I understand. I will do my best, Master Destan.”
She dropped her phone on the nearby kitchen island and then tossed herself onto one of the natural wood stools. Morgan remained quiet while she leaned over the counter as though she’d nap on it. The phone call hadn’t gone her way. Clearly she needed a few minutes to herself.
Morgan tiptoed into the corridor for a look at the rest of the cabin. His silent tour around the place was quick because every window was an opening for a potential assassin. He discovered there was a second living area with a large television, three bathrooms and a total of five bedrooms.
Would Brook let him sleep alone tonight? Did he want her to?
He silently laughed because the answer was a resounding no.
“Priest Seaton,” she called from the main room.
Morgan hurried back, brows lifted in question.
Brook gestured a limp hand around. “This is apparently where we’ll be staying for the next few days while the Rangers watch the covens’ actions and track any large sums of money.” Her bitter tone and sour expression made her opinion obvious. “My instinct is to fortify the place but I’ve been told we’ll lose a hefty security deposit if I nail anything.”
An image of him nailing her flashed in his mind. He battled it down before she could catch the spike of lust on her empathy net.
“I’ve also been told this is a test for Master level Ranger,” she said. “They want to see that I can adapt to any situation. I’m supposed to make do with the cabin’s natural security to keep you safe. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this but I feel the Rangers aren’t giving you the appropriate level of support. You have the right to demand more from them. You are the customer.”
He glanced at the private lake view and then back at her. “Do you think you can keep me safe here?”
Brook drew in a slow breath and then released it over two seconds. She scanned the exterior, deep in thought. Finally she looked him in the eye. “Provided I did my job in the city and no one followed us, yes, I can keep you safe here.”
“Then the Rangers have given me the appropriate level of support.”
“Morgan.” His name sounded like an argument though she didn’t explain why she’d said it.
He forced a smile. “You don’t get Master level if I complain that you can’t keep me safe here, do you?”
Her mouth twisted but nothing came out at first. “Possibly. But that’s no reason to take chances with your life. You can use my phone to call Master Destan. He’ll dispatch another Ranger who isn’t currently testing for Master level and get a better safe house.”
“I don’t want another Ranger.”
Brook stared for a silent beat. Morgan resisted the urge to evade her gaze.
What was going on in her head? Was she recalling the limo last night?
“Under the circumstances, another Ranger would be a good idea.”
Her toneless response frustrated the Water out of him. Which circumstances and why was another Ranger a good idea? Did she mean how he couldn’t stop fantasizing about her? Or perhaps how he’d woken nude this morning?
“I don’t want another Ranger,” he said. “You have always kept me safe. You’re the best person for this job.”
She leveraged her weight onto the tips of her toes and the stool. The new pose made her almost taller than he was. “I can’t keep you safe if I’m avoiding you for an unrelated reason.”
His lungs halted. Had she admitted she couldn’t be around him without wanting to have sex?
“Don’t avoid me,” Morgan said.
Brook glanced away. “I have to. I can’t…” She trailed off with a deep sigh.
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t be indifferent with you.” Her blurted words were almost resentful.
“Why would you want to be?”
“It’s why I’m the best Ranger. I don’t let my emotions control me. I’m indifferent. But you…you’re all—”
“Emotion. We’re Water witches. We’re all about emotion.”
“I’m not. It’s a rare gift in a Water witch. Except…”
When it comes to me.
“Ever since we were kids, no one made me angrier than you did,” she said as if she’d spoken the words he’d silently supplied. “Nothing has changed.”
“You haven’t been angry today.”
“No, but you have.”
“I apologized for it.”
“That’s not what I mean.” She popped up off the stool and stepped behind the island into the kitchen. “I’m sure I make you every bit as furious as you make me.”
“Yes, but it’s because you point out my faults—the things I secretly wish I could change.” He massaged his forehead while considering his next words. “You hold up a mirror and force me to acknowledge things I don’t want to. Like Mira…I didn’t want to see that she was infatuated. But you forced it. I could have gone on blissfully unaware but eventually that would have exploded in my face. So while I was momentarily frustrated with you, you helped me in the long run.”
“And maybe I just ruined what might have been a romance for the ages.”
Morgan snorted at her derisive response. “How could it be a romance for the ages when the only woman I can think about is you?”
He pressed his eyes shut, unsure if he’d made a huge misstep admitting it or if he ought to be relieved.
This was Brook. It was definitely a misstep.
Before yesterday Brook would have assumed he was poking fun at her. But last night… He’d certainly seemed into her before his lake house had exploded.
She eyed him warily. “Why?”
“Why what?”
She slanted an impatient look at him, one he mutinously mirrored.
“Why aren’t Mira and I a romance for the ages?” he asked. “Or why are you the only woman I can think about?”
“Both.”
Morgan massaged his fingers into his temples and then leaned against one of the only solid walls in the place. “Mira is too high-maintenance. She’s easily jealous. And her emotions are all over the place.”
“So she’s a typical Water witch.”
“I suppose.” He shrugged. “It’s strange though that since I’ve been here, not a single witch has asked me to breed with them except her.”
Brook let her eyebrows arch at the news. While her kind was raised to believe it was noble to further their race with pureblood births—even if a relationship wasn’t involved—she’d never subscribed to the idea. “I assume this is strange
for a regional high priest?”
Morgan nodded. “My father had offers daily during his tenure.” He hurried onward before she could suggest that perhaps women didn’t find him to be an ideal male to father their offspring. “I had my share in the Northwest coven I headed. I have this…feeling she’s keeping the others from asking…as though she’d told them it’s not an option and I’ll become angry if they suggest it.”
“Have you asked her about it?”
“No.”
“What about Irvin, wouldn’t he know?”
He took the few steps to the island. “He only laughs and tells me I should be glad I’m not fighting off would-be mothers.”
Brook shouldn’t have smiled. Not when the Irvin in question could possibly be the reason they were holed up in this…hedonistic…cabin in the first place. What had Judy been thinking? Worse, why had Kyle allowed it? Surely they’d seen pictures. They knew this was no safe house.
“As for why I can’t think of any woman but you…”
He had all of her attention now. Unfortunately.
“Maybe it’s because you do force me to look at myself. It might also be because you’re the least high-maintenance woman I know. And your emotions aren’t all over the place.”
So he liked her because she was a Water witch who was least like Water witches?
Morgan went on, “It could also be because you’re beautiful and sexy.”
Brook let out a loud snort. “No one has ever called me beautiful or sexy.”
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“If they’re too foolish to see it then I can have you all to myself.”
She swallowed down a sigh. “Morgan—”
“I know I signed a contract.” He leaned over the island toward her. His gaze was earnest. “I know it’s against the rules. But something isn’t right about this safe house of yours.” He gestured at the windows behind him. “If your Ranger boss put you here with me then maybe they’re trying to tell you something.”
Brook’s jaw clenched. “You’re right. They’re trying to test me on the one rule I’ve never had a problem abiding by.”
“How did they know you’d have a problem with it now?”
