by Jenny Penn
Layla and Darla didn’t like work or manual labor of any kind, but there they were trying to push a fully loaded bookcase over so that it barred Jezie’s front door. She had a sick feeling she knew just what they were afraid of. The howls were multiplying and growing closer.
“What did you do? And who are you afraid is going to come through that door?”
“Focus, Jezie.” Layla shoved at a chest packed full with supplies. “I need you to recite a sleeping spell.”
“A really strong spell,” Darla agreed.
“How strong?” Jezie narrowed her eyes as she watched Darla trying to lift the chair on top of the trunk.
“Strong enough to put down oh… I’d say…about thirty wolven.”
“Wolven?” She’d known that was coming but still choked on her words. “Thirty?”
The sound of a beast’s howl was magnified and echoed as more chimed in.
“No time, Jezie. Do it now.” Layla grunted as she managed to lift one end of Jezie’s large couch up. With wobbling steps, she managed to cram it into the window frame, blocking the glass from exploding not a second before a horrible thud pounded against it.
“We’re going to die,” Jezie whispered as the realization of their predicament hit.
The wolven were not to be messed with. They were big, dangerous men who provided food and security for the coven in exchange for potions and spells. It was a peaceful arrangement but one that, somehow, her sisters had managed to explode. Worse, Layla and Darla had led the damn pack right to Jezie’s door, a flimsy piece of bark in comparison to the strength of those savage predators.
“Focus, Jez!” Darla’s hand chopped through the air emphasizing each word. “Sleeping spell. We need one, as in now!”
“I can’t do that. The spell has to have a specific target, one person,” Jezie answered, still lost in the fog of her own fear. The words came to her only out of ingrained memory. As each one fell, though, they built a bridge back to reason. “Or place.”
“Well, then put the whole damn town to sleep!”
“But—”
“Just do it!”
Something large hit the door, and Jezie started praying. Each second took a lifetime to slip by as the sound of snarling and scratching echoed all around the edges of her cabin. She couldn’t seem to speak fast enough and rushed through the ritual homily into the incantation with nothing more than a reverent hope that she wasn’t screwing the words up.
The couch gave even as the door finally cracked against the relentless battering. A lone massive wolf flew through the shards of glass to land like a conquering demon on her upended couch, even as another rammed over the wreckage of her door and skidded across the floor to confront them.
Black fur went to its ends as the beasts turned their massive heads on each other. The wolves squared off, snarling at each other in a terrifying show of sharp, lethal teeth. The click-clack of their claws over her floor stilled for a second as they both lowered down, crouching as their muscle-thickened bodies quivered in anticipation of the fight to come.
Before either could spill blood over her floor, Jezie clapped her hands and let out the final call to the heavens above. “Escade!”
Immediately the two brawling beast fell over as the air went silent. A haunting calmness engulfed the world so fast that Jezie shivered under the impact. Even the normal night noises of birds and insects fell into the soundless abyss of slumber. The only sound came from Jezie’s own breath as she finally released it and looked over at where her sisters had passed out along with the wolves that littered not only the floor of her cabin but her yard as well.
They weren’t locals. Jezie recognized that at almost the same time she identified the black masks that covered their faces. Only the Jaris pack bore such marks, and the Jaris were not to be messed with. Not ever.
They were a dying breed, cursed long ago by the Goddess Pachamama, and Jezie knew she was in trouble now.
* * * *
Jaxon woke up with a pounding headache, which assured him he’d either ended the night in a brawl or drinking too much. One he was known for, the other not so much. Still, the details seemed fuzzy as he slowly roused himself from the hard planks of wood beneath him. The floor looked unfamiliar and so did the rest of the cabin as he shoved himself up.
It smelled of flowers and herbs and something even more tantalizing, and he couldn’t help but lift his nose into the air and take a deep breath, savoring the burn as the sweet scent moved through his lungs. Almost instantly it heated his blood, making him harden in a rush of molten lust unlike any he’d ever known before.
Despite everything, Jaxon found himself cracking a rare smile as he rose to his feet and took in the strange cabin he found himself in. It was a witch’s hut. There could be no mistaking that. Shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling were overloaded with books and supplies, and there were vats of flowers and herbs, worktables and cook pots where potions were no doubt mixed up.
There was a quaintness to everything that just made the place feel like home even if it was a simple single room with only one door that led outside and one that led to an equally utilitarian bathroom. Whatever witch lived there, she wasn’t into luxuries. Even her bed, tucked into a corner, looked as thin as the sheets stretched across them.
It was a small bed, barely big enough for one person. For some reason that pleased him. What didn’t please Jaxon were the memories starting to seep back in. The Great Owl, how it had vanished, their realization that it had led them to a town full of witches, and the understanding that they’d been led there to finally find the Dead Tree’s long-lost bloodline.
Mission accomplished.
Whoever this cabin belonged to, she was the woman they’d come there to find. Jaxon could feel that truth all the way to his soul. Of course, now they just had to find her because, clearly, the witch had fled, but he had her scent now. There was nowhere she could run that he wouldn’t find her.
Jaxon grinned, that certainty hardening within him as the thrill of the hunt filled him. Stepping over the smashed window and the shredded remains of the door, he waded past the members of the pack still passed out on the floor and out into the yard to find the bodies piled up there as well.
He paid the sight little mind as he allowed his nose to draw him down the street as he tracked the scent of his prey. He boldly strolled down the flower-lined streets completely naked and unconcerned. All that mattered in that moment was the sweet scent making all his muscles harden. He allowed his dick to lead the way past lush gardens and perfectly maintained yards. The place was so damn cute not even the sidewalks dared to crack and ruin the image the coven had clearly worked hard to perfect.
It was like a page out of a fairytale, one that was a tourist juggernaut. They’d figured that out within about five minutes of entering the small village. It was quaint and cute and had a main street lined with specialty boutiques and antique stores that attracted hordes of older women and families with little kids, who squealed and darted about the place.
To say that their pack had stuck out as they’d entered town was to say that the sun was only dimly lit. The looks and stares that they’d gotten had driven them right back out of town and up the mountain to the next pit stop along the scenic highway.
Clearly built in response to the coven’s cuteness, the town up the way was much more commercialized with motel and hotels. Fast food chains lined the streets, and bars were tucked in hidden corners. There they’d blended right in, even if the sheriff had made it clear he was keeping an eye on them. Jaxon didn’t blame the man. If thirty bikers had rolled into his town, Jaxon would have done more than keep an eye on them.
Right then he had an eye out for all the strangeness around him. Cars were crashed into poles, and dog walkers had passed out on the ground right beside their hounds. Everybody appeared to have been hit with the same dose of magic that had taken out the pack. Jaxon didn’t doubt that it had been magic, too. That was the only thing that could explain th
e wreckage around him.
It wasn’t such a far stretch. Jaxon felt the power in the air. It held a calming influence, and he sensed the stray bits of a spell meant to make people feel happy. How like witches was that? Set up shop and dope up their customers into feeling so good they spent money on silly little trinkets and charms. And people thought the Jaris were dangerous?
At least they were honest. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t do what was necessary to accomplish their goals. Right then, Jaxon found his brother up to just what he expected as he turned the corner on a side street and spotted Kragen hunched down beneath a window of an ornate old home. His twin was clearly eavesdropping, and Jaxon wanted to know what he listening to or, more importantly, who, though he could guess.
The scents surrounding the house were strong and powerful, assuring him that the coven had gathered within. That included one witch in particular that Jaxon really wanted to get to know. Feeling almost mesmerized by the alluring scent leading him straight to the front door, Jaxon began cutting across the yard and probably would have gone barging right in if Kragen hadn’t interfered.
His brother darted out from the window he was crouched beneath and all but tackled Jaxon, sending them both rolling into the bushes. They landed in a crush of limbs with Kragen’s hand slapping over Jaxon’s mouth before he could grunt out an expletive.
“Shh,” Kragen whispered. “You’ve got to come hear this.”
Not really in the mood to fight, and sensing the wisdom of his brother’s ways, Jaxon nodded and forced himself to rein in his baser impulses. Telling himself he wasn’t some impatient youth to be undone and overwhelmed by lust, he crawled out of the bushes following Kragen back to the window where the argument going on inside seeped easily through the old single pane of glass.
“This is a disaster, an absolute disaster!”
“Don’t get worked up. We’ll figure out a solution.”
“What solution? We can’t put those men to sleep permanently. They’re going to wake up. They’re going to be pissed. They’re Jaris, and you know what that means.”
“We can’t let them get Jezie.”
“Do you think they came for her?”
“Why else would they be here?”
“They must have figured out the curse finally.”
“We’re all doomed!”
The chorus of panicked voice would have been damn near amusing if what they said wasn’t so enlightening. Jaxon just didn’t know what to make of the pieces yet. He’d figure it out. That was a vow.
“Silence!” A voice reeking of authority cut through the rest of the murmurs, gaining just what it demanded⎯silence. “There is no need to fear. The curse cannot be broken by anybody other than the Jaris themselves, and they are way too cold-hearted to figure that out.”
“But what of Jezie? They’ll take her anyway. God knows what they’ll do to her,” a voice whipped back, sounding on the edge of desperate, but it was met with immediate disdain by another sharper tone.
“They’ll do nothing to her.” There was a huff in this tone, one that carried a clear hint of arrogance. “They’re not capable of breaking Jezie.”
That was said with a grimness that had all the women falling silent before one dared to speak up.
“We have to let them have her, Matron. She might not break the curse, but she’ll be able buy us time to disappear.”
“It is her or us.”
* * * *
Or her sisters.
Jezie backed away from the door she’d been listening through and felt a sadness invade her soul. She didn’t know what they were all talking about when it came to breaking curses and didn’t really care. Curses were not her specialty but protecting Darla and Layla was.
It had been that way since their mother had passed when all three sisters had still been little. The Matron had taken them in and raised them like her own, but Jezie had always felt a responsibility for her two younger sisters. They certainly gave her reason to worry with their tendency to get into trouble.
Trouble was what they’d gotten themselves into last night. Darla, as usual, had led the charge. Layla couldn’t be blamed for being brokenhearted over her boyfriend’s betrayal, or desiring revenge. Darla, though, had agitated the situation, inspiring her sibling into poisoning a whole damn tap down at the bar with a love potion.
It had all been in a vain attempt to make Layla’s ex-boyfriend fall in love with her so she could reject him and make him feel as bad as she did. Things had blown up, though, when the Jaris had arrived and downed the beer themselves. That was when all hell had broken loose and both sisters had come running to Jezie to save them.
That was just what she intended to do—save them.
Taking a deep breath and resigning herself to her fate, Jezie reached for the doorknob and turned it, stepping into the other room to instant silence. She felt all eyes of the coven turn toward her and sensed the fear and pity in their gazes. She held her head high as she walked through the crowd that cleared a path for her straight to the Matron Mariam.
“Olivia is right, Matron,” Jezie stated, loud enough for all to hear and without a quiver in her voice. “The Jaris will want answers…and revenge. Better it be me than all.”
The short, elderly woman before Jezie sighed and shook her head. “You know that I am quite fond of you, Jezie, but I fear you do not understand the situation.”
“I will protect the coven.” And my sisters.
“And what of yourself?” Mariam asked as she stepped forward to take Jezie’s hands. “The list of punishments the Jaris measure out for men might be quite long, but for women, it is very short.”
“I know that,” Jezie replied, raising her chin up. “But I have a skill. I can heal, and surely the Jaris will consider that when appointing my punishment.”
“Having a skill does not change the fact that there is only one thing the Jaris will want from you.” Mariam’s hands tightened down on hers. “I know you are innocent of men, but trust me, this is not a path you want to take.”
Jezie licked her lips, knowing the Matron was right, but that didn’t change anything. “Better me than my sisters.”
“Damn it, Jezie, you are not understanding! Those men will use you. You’ll be working off your sins on your back.”
Jezie cringed under Mariam’s brutal honesty, but the Matron had not finished.
“If not on your knees. And when one tires of you, you’ll be passed to his friends. Even if you survive that experience, your magic will never be the same. The life you live lost in the world of your books and the charm of your gardens will be but a fantasy long forgotten. I am begging you, Jezie. Do not do this.”
“And what will happen to the coven if I don’t?” Jezie shook her head. “You know this must be done.”
“I fear, my child, that you do not understand the consequences of your decision.” Mariam stepped back with a sad shake of her head. “So be it. I have stressed to you the impact of your decision, and that is all I can do for you now. When your sentence is served, you come to me, my child. I will protect you then.”
“I will.” Jezie gave her a slight smile, though she feared it wavered.
“Very well.” The Matron nodded before looking around at the rest of the coven. “We have a lot to do to set this town back to order. So let’s get it done and get these men out of here.”
There was a murmur of agreement as everybody started to turn toward the door. Olivia reached it first and opened it, only to stumble back with a startled shriek. Then everyone in the room froze as they took in the large man filling in the doorway.
He was huge, tall and thick, rippling with muscles that flexed with a menace that set Jezie’s heart to flutter. He was also totally naked, and she couldn’t help but blush and look away as her eyes accidently strayed too low. The man was big, big everywhere.
Oh, she couldn’t do this.
The Matron was right. He was going to kill her. Jezie was struck by the overwhelming urge to
flee, and would have given in and done just that, but her legs refused to move. She rooted in her spot as the heavily tattooed Jaris ducked beneath the door and sauntered right into the room.
Once again the crowd parted as the large warrior strutted past every gaping mouth and wide-eyed look he received to come to a stop before Jezie. There he stood, waiting until she could take the tension no more and glanced up to meet his gaze. She found herself instantly captivated by the swirling storms in his gray eyes and was seized with a strange heat that left her breathless and tingling in foreign ways. Then finally he spoke, his words coming out like chipped granite that fell over her in an abrasive rush.
“I’ve come for you, Jezie.”
Chapter 2
Kragen smiled at the way that pronouncement had the little witch before him paling. This was the woman meant for him, gifted to him and he couldn’t be more thankful for fate’s generosity, because it was clear to him that Jezie was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.
She had strength and a willingness to sacrifice herself. Kragen and Jaxon planned on using that to their advantage. That wasn’t all they were planning on.
In the very near future, Kragen intended to know every delight that Jezie’s body had to offer, but he wasn’t going to be a fool enough to ask for that right. No. Shardars didn’t beg for what they wanted. They took it.
Kragen knew how arrogant that thought was, especially given the history of mates. They tended to wrap their wolven captives around their little fingers. He’d observed that amongst the other wolven packs more than once, and Kragen wasn’t about to be turned into any kind of lapdog.
Instead he planned on teaching Jezie her place, which was at his and Jaxon’s beck and call. That idea had his smile taking on a wicked curve as he paused to appreciate the sheer magnificence of his mate. She was a goddess.
Full of soft curves, her body was a delight Kragen couldn’t wait to explore. Of course, they first had to get her out from the clutches of the coven, because Kragen knew for certain none of the other uptight women crowded into the great room would appreciate the thoughts dancing through his mind as his gaze finally lifted to lock back on Jezie’s.
