While his looks might tempt me, the decision came years ago when I’d had enough of their egos, their need to be the tough guy, and their tendency to have their own agenda. My last attempt to respect warlocks ended at the age of twenty when one broke my heart. Since then, the only warlock I could stand was Peyton’s boyfriend, and even he walked a fine line of always needing to prove himself to me.
Lately, I’d stuck to the non-magical man, but those relationships hadn’t led to anything serious, nor did they belong on my fantastic memories list. Where warlocks had too much stuff, non-magical folk didn’t have enough. Needless to say, it’d been months since I heard the word date and my regions south had declared death a while ago.
I cleared my mind of unimportant things and set to answering him. “We’re going to Magnolia Cemetery.”
“I see.” He turned in his seat and sent his hard stare onto me. “You’re an Enchantress?”
The rich nature of his voice made funny things awaken in my dead regions. Perhaps my libido wanted to be reincarnated. I quashed the thought with a fierce no. “Mm-hmm.” Two could play at the game he presented—if he wanted to assign labels, so could I. “You’re a Ward?”
“Correct.”
Not like I needed the confirmation. Any warlock who worked for the coven received the title. “What’s your talent?”
“Runes.”
I jerked my head to look at him and the car swerved before I straightened the wheel. “You draw runes?”
A hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth. “You look surprised.”
“I am,” I admitted with no shame. “I haven’t met a Ward who holds the talent of rune magic.” Glancing back at the road to avoid a crash, I shrugged to downplay my awe. “At least, not any from Charleston.”
“We are few and far between,” he replied, cool and collected.
My breath seemed lost in the state between shock and bewilderment. He appeared to hold back on the interesting talent. Intriguing, considering most warlocks I’d met would gush at the opportunity to prove their abilities over mine. My curiosity about the warlock next to me rose, especially since I needed to discover the reason he’d been assigned to the case. “How long have you lived in Charleston?”
“Not long.”
Oh, this made no sense at all. We had our own Wards, who were talented in their own right, so we didn’t need Kale. I waited two breaths for him to answer, but he didn’t oblige me. “Where are you from?”
“Down south.”
I blinked at his indifferent voice, keeping the wheel tight in my hands to ensure the SUV went straight, but looked at him. “Do you plan on telling me anything about you?”
“I just did.” He gave a halfhearted shrug. “I’m a Ward, who draws runes, and I live down south.”
I snorted loud enough to ensure he heard it. Elusive might be an understatement when it came to Kale Griffin. I almost laughed at the situation; I wanted warlocks to shut the hell up, and now one did and I’d rather he talked.
Figures!
I had to wonder if he did it to get a rise out of me, since warlocks tended to do that, too, which is why I bit back the rest of my questions. He might want to play that game, but by the Goddess I wouldn’t feed into it. I slammed the accelerator down, ignoring the sexy warlock next to me. We had bigger problems.
The dead cat stinkin’ up my SUV reminded me of that.
Chapter Two
Kale’s presence unnerved me on the drive, making time seem to pass slower. I still hadn’t determined if my interest in Kale veered toward digging deeper into the man himself, or if my curiosity behind why the coven had sent him was the reason behind my interest.
Up ahead, the main gates of the cemetery appeared, and at this late hour, the area seemed deserted. But it’s not like the place of the dead remained deserted, because spirits lingered here. Of course, they were hidden from my sight since I never received that gift from the Goddess, but it didn’t mean I didn’t know they were there.
As we passed through the aged wrought iron gates and drove into the cemetery, Kale glanced away from his window, where his focus had been for the last ten minutes. “I take it you plan to conjure a spell for the feline?”
I nodded, gripping the wheel tightly, and tried not to react to the way his powerful stare knocked me off-kilter. I had no reason to be uncomfortable under his examination. To my frustration, the butterflies in my belly stated otherwise. Was it nerves from my suspicions of him or something much more intimate?
Whatever the reason, I ignored said odd reaction, and stayed focused on my headlights lighting up the thin pathway through the rows of tombstones on either side. “It’s the least I can do.”
Once I arrived at the north side of the cemetery, I pulled over to the edge of the driveway and cut the ignition. “We’ll start here.”
Not bothering to wait for Kale, I exited the SUV and strode toward the rear end. As I opened the hatchback, Kale joined me and he pulled out the garbage bag, dropping it on the ground as hard as he had placed it in the SUV. I shook my head at him, but held back my retort. It would be a waste of breath.
My SUV had always been my lifeline to my spells and contained everything I needed for my magic, as did my extra stash at my house. Trouble didn’t wait for a trip home to gather ingredients. A good witch came prepared.
After I formed a solid plan, I opened the spare tire compartment and took out the chamomile carpet tucked into the side with my other herbs. I inhaled a long deep breath to stabilize myself, far from happy. I might follow my magic by the book as I’d been trained to do, but touching a dead kitty wasn’t a part of the job I enjoyed. “This cat better thank me for what I’m about to do.”
Kale cocked his head. “Which is?”
“Gross. Horrible things.” I opened the garbage bag and reached in, hoping to hell I missed intestines.
I pulled the cat out and sighed in relief when I saw I’d grasped its tail. The wretched stink of decomposed kitty flesh filled my nostrils and blood dripped onto my arm. “Disgusting.”
“Do you need anything else?” Kale asked.
Wasn’t he full of surprises?
In all the years I’d worked for the coven, warlocks had never cared what I could do, or what I couldn’t, only that they could do better. No matter how many times my assistance led to the capture of someone who harbored evil, the warlocks took full credit. In fact, I couldn’t recall a time when a warlock would’ve bothered to join me and instead would’ve waited in the SUV.
Something about the difference in the warlock next to me made me take notice, besides already noticing his body of muscles.
With that thought, a plan formed. One I liked…a lot. “Can you grab the shovel on the side there?” At Kale’s nod, I tucked the chamomile carpet under my arm and strode forward with purposeful steps.
Kale grabbed the shovel from the back in 2.2 seconds, and then trotted up next to me. I gave him a quick look and once again he watched me, almost studying me.
With his eagerness to help and stay by my side, plus his full-out regard of me, my suspicions began to lean toward “my coven had sent him to spy on me.” Had my lack of respect for my coven finally done me in? Time for answers. “Why do you keep looking at me like…that?”
His eyebrow arched. “Like what?”
“All curious like.”
He smiled. “Because I am curious why we are walking around a cemetery with a dead cat in your hand.”
Simple enough answer, even if I didn’t buy it. He appeared interested in my spell, but why? His answer didn’t sit well in my stomach. Did the coven send him to watch over me and find flaws in my work? Sure, I could be a tad difficult at times with the coven, but I worked damn hard for them. Of course, the last case I handled, where I turned off my cell phone to keep them from pestering me, rushed into my mind, reminding me of how peeved they’d been that I had purposely been ignoring their calls. But heck, how can a witch work with her telephone ringing constantly?
/> From what Kale had told me already, he seemed quite the powerful Ward with the rune magic and all, and it made sense for them to send someone I didn’t know. No one in my coven would test me in this manner, nor take part in an event that could have me banned from the coven. They would send a talented magic user who was a stranger to me to gauge my abilities. Dammit, trouble stirred, and it appeared I had been labeled the trouble.
The other acceptable reason for his presence could be his experience. In truth, I’d never dealt with a case like this before, and if the coven thought it dangerous, they would likely send me help. For my own sanity, I needed to start ruling things out to discover his purpose. “Have you worked a case like this one before?”
Kale shook his head. “Not with animals, no.”
Only confirming he wasn’t there because he held a skill in that department. “Then tell me why you are here.”
“The coven ordered me to be.”
“Right.” Seeing that that line of questioning got me nowhere, I pushed away the thoughts of Kale and my coven, and focused inward on the Goddess and on the stinkin’ cat.
Striding forward, I passed rows and rows of tombstones, all decorated with flowers. With each step I took over the paved pathway, the more death reminded me of how short life was, and how I stopped danger for this reason—to avoid more of these graves.
Behind one of the large oak trees, I knelt down. The site was far away from the rows of gravesites, so I thought it a good chance that no one would dig it up if a new grave was needed.
I dropped the cat to the ground, and almost reached for the shovel when my earlier idea formed. Muscles are good for things like the needed strength to dig a grave, and Kale had oodles of them. I glanced up to the hunk above me and waved out to the ground. “Dig away.”
He frowned. “You’re enjoying this?”
“You’re here.” I grinned like a fool at him. “Might as well make yourself useful.” Besides, no dirt under my fingernails to add to the nasty cat bits made me happy.
Kale snorted, but he dug. To my pleasure, I had been right—his muscles made him efficient. The strength of his legs and arms, with the flex of his biceps, gave me a nice view while he worked, and he took much less time than I would have.
By the time he finished, the hole was deep enough to keep wild animals out, but didn’t cause him to drip sweat from the effort. Another reason for him to do it: I would’ve needed a shower after.
Hell, I did need a shower to get the stinky cat smell off me.
Kale dropped the shovel and wiped his dirty hands on his worn, faded jeans, drawing my attention to his thick thighs. “That should do it.”
My focus lingered on those legs. The incredible strength this warlock possessed, his height, confidence, and even the fit nature of his body, exuded a healthy amount of masculinity. I lifted my head to his intense, shadowy eyes, and the self-assurance behind his look only increased my notice of him.
Kale stared intently at me, almost giving me a quizzical look that confirmed he acknowledged my ogle of him. Dammit! “Your pants are dirty,” I said, to prove my examination of him wasn’t because of his attributes, but for simple reasons.
The side of his mouth arched. “Noticed that, did you?”
“I did…and it’s gross.” I glanced away from him, hoping to hell he bought my excuse. His low chuckle told me he didn’t. Frustrating me even more was the slight shiver running through my body at the sound and the blush on my cheeks. Why did I like him knowing I noticed him? Furthermore, why did my body seem to take it a step further and react to him in ways it shouldn’t?
More than done with him and all that ridiculous business, I focused back on the cat and the damp grass moistening my knees. Pressing my finger against the kitty’s forehead, I pretended the wretched scents wafting through my nose smelled like pretty flowers. It didn’t help much. “Sleep well,” I said to the cat, and then I looked up at Kale, gesturing toward Fluffy. “Go on.”
He shook his head, all evidence of his amusement vanished. “I’m not touching it.”
“If you want to work with me then you’ll follow my rules.” I scowled. “Touch the cat’s head.”
His eyebrows rose as if in challenge, but this time he wouldn’t win. So, I’d lost once in trying to sit on the I-am-more-powerful throne. But if he thought he’d win all the time, this warlock needed his head examined. After a long pause, and a full-out staring contest, he grumbled, and then bent to touch the cat’s head. “Will that suffice?”
“That’ll do.” Point for Libby! “Besides, you’ll thank me later when you don’t have scary dreams about a dead cat.” I shuddered at the thought of the movie Pet Sematary before I placed the cat into the hole. “I wish you well on your journey.” At my nod, Kale shoveled the dirt into the hole.
Within a few minutes, the cat lay buried beneath the earth and Kale had smoothed the shovel over to flatten out the ground. I placed the chamomile carpet over the grave, tucking it into the grass. “Before you ask—’cause I know you have no idea what I’m doing—this will help the kitty rest in peace.”
I prayed to the Goddess to ignite the magic on the chamomile carpet to provide the cat a happy life after death. My eyes fluttered closed as warmth rushed through my veins, and the heat of my blood sent tingles throughout, confirming that the Goddess heard my request and kick-started the magic.
I opened my eyes and laid my hand on the grave. “May the Goddess guide your way home.” The grass beneath my touch thickened, weaving itself together with the chamomile carpet, and a few yellow tulips grew in the center. Anyone who stumbled upon this spot would be none the wiser that a new grave had been dug.
Kale sighed. When I glanced up at him, he looked beyond bored. “Is that all, then?”
“Yes, that’s all.” I headed toward my SUV, maybe a little pissed that he tricked me into thinking he was different, but nope, his heart held ice. Perhaps it was a good thing, since it put my head back on straight and off all the good parts of Kale.
What in the Goddess was going on with me? When did I allow a handsome face to allow me to overlook the coldness a man contained in his soul? I lifted my chin, and with each step I took I reminded myself that the outer shell of a warlock was all for show.
Besides, with the kitty now buried, I had other things to get to. Such as to discover who killed the cat. More to the point, why I had a sexy-as-sin warlock ordered to work alongside me.
When I reached my hatchback, I grabbed a wipe out of the side compartment and cleaned my hands and arms. I wished I had time for a shower, but trouble didn’t wait.
Kale joined me as I finished up with a big dose of sanitizer and he handed me the shovel. I placed it back in the SUV and as he used a wipe, I wanted to start digging into him like he dug the hole. “So tell me Kale, what do you know of this case?”
He didn’t look up, continuing to clean under his nails. “I know nothing.”
I waited a few seconds for him to say more, but he finished up with the wipe then tossed it in the back with mine. “The coven sent you to me, so how do you know nothing?”
He stared at me blankly. “They did send me.”
I attempted to read his emotionless expression, but failed—this warlock had mastered the air of indifference. “Are you always this hard to get information out of?”
“You asked me what I knew, and as of right now, I don’t know why cats have been slaughtered in Charleston.” He shrugged. “As to helping you gather information, I might be at a loss there.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why would that be?”
He shifted on his feet and glanced everywhere but at me. “Because at the present moment, I have no magic to aid you.”
I couldn’t stop my laughter at the illogicality of it all. “The coven sent me a warlock who knows nothing of what’s going on, and has zero magical abilities?”
“I never said I don’t have magic,” he replied, cool and collected, unfazed by my spurt of laughter. “I just don’t have mag
ic to help you…right now.”
A headache loomed. I rubbed my eyes to clear out the irritation throbbing behind them. “Which means in normal talk instead of Kale’s elusive way?”
He grinned and it did wonders for his serious nature, softening his eyes in a way I hated because it made my stomach flutter. “My magic awakens during the sabbat. Beltane is two days away and that’s when my abilities will flourish. My powers last a month or so, but since Ostara was March 20, my gifts have retracted.”
Well, wasn’t he full of curious details?
I’d heard of warlocks with restricted powers, but had never met one. There’d been whispers of stories I never believed. Out of curiosity, I considered the sabbats and timed them out. In most cases, Kale would be without magic for a short time—days even—but since Beltane was on the first of May his downtime would be now.
With that, I knew; Kale was here to test me since he clearly couldn’t help me in any way. “You’re here to watch me, aren’t you?”
Surprise drifted over his face. “Watch you?”
Oh damn, he was watching me. While he might be elusive, that reaction—as if it shocked him that I had guessed it right—spoke volumes. “Yes, watch me to find faults in my work.”
His expression became controlled so quickly it only added to his level of guilt. “Why do you think I would be watching you?”
“Because I can be a pain in the ass to my coven and maybe they’re seeking to kick me out.”
He chuckled softly. “I do not doubt for a single second you can be a pain in the ass.” His smile faded. “You think I’m here to find flaws in you?”
I nodded.
“No, Libby, that’s not why I’m here.”
I studied him hard. “But you’re here to watch over me?”
“I never said I wouldn’t be watching you.” A glimmer of something very naughty crossed his expression. “I quite like watching you.” His eyebrow arched. “Will that be a problem for you?” I flushed, hating that my mind stuttered at his advance. Before I could gather my thoughts to respond, he added, “Besides, just because I can’t magically aid you, doesn’t mean I’m not able to handle threats.” His features hardened and those soft eyes became focused. “I’m skilled in combat.”
The Cat's Meow Page 2
