by Abigail Owen
He crossed his arms. “I see.”
She peeped at him from behind a fall of her hair. “You’ll allow it?”
“I haven’t seen them that excited about magic in ages. Yes. I’ll allow it.”
That was easier than she’d expected. Rowan blew out a relieved breath and moved to follow the girls into the house, but Grey stopped her with a hand on her arm.
“Did you stop to consider what might happen if their magic got out of hand? Heightened levels of emotion—including excitement—can trigger a spell to go horribly wrong.”
Damn. She hadn’t, because any magic gone wild she could handle. But that was the true Rowan, not weak-magic-user nanny Rowan. The question had been put gently, so she checked his expression, which gave her no clue as to his feelings.
Think fast.
“I did consider that but figured at worst you might have to dig your house out from under a mountain of philodendron vines. Worth the trouble if it got them more motivated. Don’t you think?”
Did his lips twitch? “I guess.”
He studied her for a long moment, and Rowan resisted the urge to shuffle her feet, holding his gaze. He’d been doing that more since Lachlyn’s prediction. Watching her.
“Your day off is tomorrow.”
The comment came so far out of left field, it took her a moment to catch up. “Errrr….Yes.”
“Do you have any plans?”
Where was he going with this? “I—”
“As it happens, work is a tad slow for me. With the girls at my parents’, that leaves me free as well. Would you like to join forces?”
He wanted to spend the day with her? The part of her that quickened every time he entered the room, the same part which right now reveled in the spicy scent of his after-shave and the woodsy scent she associated with his magic, screamed Yes! The cautious side, however, the side which worried over the fact that she had the strangest urge to confess all and put herself in Grey’s capable hands, had her holding back.
Bad idea. Horrible.
“Um. Thanks for the offer, but I already have plans.” Damn. Did that sound as lame to him as it did to her?
“I see.” His smile faded, and suddenly before her stood the intimidating warlock she’d first met when she’d arrived to be the girls’ nanny.
“Maybe next weekend?” she tried.
But he didn’t unbend. “It’ll depend on my schedule.”
Right. Had she offended Grey? The problem was, she couldn’t put off her very real plans—not any longer—and she couldn’t invite him along.
“I’ll take the girls over to my parents’ around eight. What time do you plan to leave?”
“About the same time.” She pointed her feet toward the house, taking one reluctant step after another. “I’d better get inside now. Dinner’s probably done baking.”
“No more burnt dinner fiascos?”
She glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the laughter lurking in his voice given his stoic reaction to her rejection moments ago. “It’s easy when no one is messing with you…”
He laughed outright, a deep, rich sound which shot straight to her heart. “I guess that does make things go smoother.”
With a creak, Grey opened the screen door and held it for her.
“Thank you—”
As she glanced at him in passing, Rowan caught a glimpse of movement in the trees behind his right shoulder. Rather than draw Grey’s attention, she turned and kept going, but she knew exactly what she’d seen. A large male elk, the rack on his head massive, stared at her from the shadows. Above him, perched on the branches of the tall pine tree, had to be at least twenty chipmunks, squirrels, marmosets, and birds of varying types, also staring her way.
Rowan’s heart shriveled. It was never a good sign when animals started to gather around her in large numbers. The first time it happened, her parents were killed in a car crash she mysteriously survived. The most recent time had been when Kaios had kidnapped her and used her, getting her into this mess in the first damned place. The danger they’d been warning her of must be getting closer.
How long before Grey, or the girls, noticed the unusual behavior of the animals in their woods? And was Rowan the only one in danger? Or was something coming which could put this family—who’d already been through so much, and who’d managed to creep into her heart and take up permanent residence—in peril?
She’d find out tomorrow.
CHAPTER 16
“Dad?”
Chloe’s tentative question pulled Greyson’s thoughts away from the red-haired, bewitching nanny who’d driven away in her beat up Chevy this morning, earlier than she’d originally indicated. Rowan hadn’t even paused to eat breakfast with them, even though he’d made plenty. Even though the girls—who he could tell had become quite attached to their nanny—begged her to She hadn’t said where she was going, or with whom, and he hadn’t asked.
He should’ve. That nagging sense something else was going on with her hadn’t gone away. If anything, her behavior since the night they discovered the girls were the fates should have him concerned. She’d been…reserved. Not in a way he could put his finger on, no action to point to. Just a gut knowledge.
“Yes, Chloe?” he answered, slightly distracted.
“Do you think you could work with us on magic in the afternoons? Instead of Aunt Persephone?”
Greyson’s attention moved fully to his daughters now. “My job doesn’t give me consistent time at home. I know I’ve been around a lot lately, but things won’t stay that way.”
At their slumped shoulders, he put down his fork. “Why? Don’t you like Persephone?”
“Oh, we love her,” Lachlyn spoke up. “Just not her lessons.”
Amusement tugged at his lips. “Why not?”
“She treats us like we’re babies, Dad.” Atleigh’s put upon sigh said more than the words.
“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. After all, Persephone teaches many of the Council’s children.”
Three eager expressions shut down and closed off, as they flopped back against their seats at the breakfast table.
“I told you Rowan was wrong,” Lachlyn hissed at her sisters.
Greyson, about to resume his breakfast, paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “What does Rowan have to do with this?”
Chloe wrinkled her nose. “She told us to talk to you about our lessons with Aunt Persephone.”
She did that? Why?
“Were you complaining to her about your aunt?”
“No!” Atleigh sent him an offended glower. “Rowan noticed how bored we were with our lessons and said to talk to you.”
Slowly, Greyson leaned back in his chair. Had he missed something directly under his nose? Were the girls bored, and could they handle more? He’d assumed Persephone had things well in hand and honestly hadn’t paid much attention. Too many other issues overwhelmed him when it came to raising his daughters alone, and he’d been happy to pass that part off to someone else.
Meanwhile, a warmth he didn’t want to examine too closely zoomed through his chest. Rowan had enough faith in him to send the girls his way with this issue.
Of course she did, you dumb ass. She can’t handle it on her own.
However, rather than address it with him, she’d encouraged the girls to do so, helping build their trust in him. He’d have to thank her later.
“I’ll watch more closely tomorrow. Okay? And if she needs to increase the level, then I’ll talk to her.”
At least the girls perked up, resuming shoveling forkfuls of eggs into their mouths almost as fast as they could swallow.
“Oh, hey, Dad?” Lachlyn asked around a bite.
Again, he put his now cold bite of eggs down. “Yes?”
“I think Rowan likes you.”
Now he was thankful he hadn't taken that bite, or he would’ve choked. He couldn’t deny the burst of interest those words provoked. His body definitely liked Rowan. The more he got to know
her, the more he liked her as a person. She was good for the girls, too. But she was his nanny, and given his position on the Council, her lack of magic…not that he cared about status or others’ opinions. Grey slammed a lid down on that thought. Why was his mind going there anyway?
****
Rowan gazed out over the vista before her. She’d pulled off at one of the many view points along Trail Ridge Road, which traversed the Continental Divide. Technically, the road wasn’t open to drivers yet—too early in this season—but as a witch who could teleport, Rowan wasn’t too concerned.
Now, standing above the treeline, the windswept alpine tundra almost rolled away from her, though she knew full well that a bit further on a life-ending drop awaited. Above her the slopes spiked away again to jagged peaks. She gazed to the west, to the heart of the Rockies, the crags and peaks rising across the horizon in an unending display of how puny humans were against such natural grandeur.
The animals she’d stopped and talked to along the way up had directed her here. She shivered now, as the high winds penetrated her thin jacket. She’d been waiting here for forty minutes without a single animal appearing. Still, creatures worked on a different timetable than humans. So she continued to wait. She needed to know…
A falcon’s cry pierced the air. However, a quick search of the sky revealed no bird near her. Again, the screech rent the morning silence, carried to her on the currents of the wind. Then, in a rush, the bird soared up from below, over the edge of the mountain and straight toward her. A whispered spell protected her delicate skin from his sharp talons, and Rowan held out her arm for the gyrfalcon to perch upon.
Wings flared wide to slow his approach, he gave a flap as he landed, then folded them neatly back. Beautiful with his white speckled belly and darker speckled wings, he cocked his head and regarded her with piercing yellow eyes.
“Rowan McAuliffe.”
His voice punched through her mind, surprisingly deep for its size.
“Yes. Can you tell me what danger follows me?”
The falcon bowed his head. “Werewolves.”
Dread burst inside her chest before sinking to the pit of her stomach. She’d expected to hear the Covens had discovered her location, under their very noses, and were coming for her. But werewolves? Kaios had been killed. Why were werewolves coming for her now? Had that asshat shared with one of them the power they held over her?
“Who?”
“Kaios’s lover.”
Kaios had had a lover? Rowan’d had no clue. No female werewolves had interacted with her while Kaios held her prisoner. But it explained a lot.
A she-wolf now bent on vengeance hunted her? Fan-freakin-tastic.
“How long before she finds me?”
“A few days. Maybe three at most. She’s hasn’t caught your scent, yet. But she’s close.”
“Is she alone?”
“No.”
“How many?”
“Unclear. Around ten.”
Boiling cauldrons and pickled pig’s feet. Too many to handle alone.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“Call upon those you need when the time is right.” With a leap which barely moved her arm, so light was the bird of prey, the gyrfalcon took to the skies, diving back over the cliff from which he’d come.
Now what did he mean by that last comment?
Long after the bird departed, she stared, unseeing, after it. What should she do?
Her first instinct screamed run. With werewolves on the warpath, her presence put Grey and the girls in danger. Given the power a werewolf could wield over her, the weres could force her to hurt them.
She shouldn’t stay. However, stay or not, her scent led the weres directly to Grey’s house, which meant they remained in peril even if she escaped.
Leaving them, leaving Grey—her heart ached at the prospect. How had he become important to her in such a short time? No sense lay in the emotions with which she associated him.
She’d call Delilah, call upon the protection the woman, whatever she was, could provide Grey and the girls. They needed protection now.
After that, before the werewolves could pounce, Rowan would disappear.
CHAPTER 17
At a tentative knock, Grey glanced up from his email to find Rowan standing in the doorway.
“I wanted to let you know I was home.”
He leaned back in his chair, taking a moment to absorb how nice the word “home” sounded on her lips. “Did you enjoy your day?”
“Yes.” Her expression gave away little, but the slight tightening to her lips told him she’d rather not talk about it.
Curious, he still let it go. “Good. Have you had dinner?”
Only a slight hesitation. “No.”
“I make a mean spaghetti. Would you like to join me?”
A longer hesitation this time. What was with her all of a sudden? Had dealing with Castor, and the physical toll that took, scared her, made her rethink working for him? His job did have the potential to bring danger, but he’d warded the house against outside threats. The thought of her leaving punched him in the gut.
The girls trusted her, had come to rely on her. So had he. He couldn’t do this without her. What’s more, he didn’t want to.
“That would be nice. Thank you.”
Still recovering from his over-the-top reaction, Greyson glanced at his watch, more for show. He knew the time, as the day had moved in frustrating slowness. This had nothing to do with the witch before him, of course, just irritation with the lack of movement on his case and the strange quiet of an empty house. “Give me about an hour?”
“Do you need any help?”
He shook his head. “It’s your day off.”
A genuine smile lit her eyes. “So it is. I’ll see you in an hour then.”
A few hours later, Grey poured the last of the wine into both their glasses and led Rowan to the couches in the family room. She walked through the corner of the room beside the fireplace and shivered.
“Cold?” he asked.
She smiled and lowered herself to the couch. “Something about that spot. It’s always freezing.”
“I know. It’s been that way ever since I can remember.” With a whispered spell, the fireplace blazed to life, casting a cheerful light over the night-darkened room.
Without the girls as buffer between them, Rowan had seemed hesitant with him—quieter than she normally tended to be, not looking him in the eye, a fact which bothered him more than he was willing to admit even to himself. He’d spent most of dinner keeping the conversation impersonal and light, putting her at her ease until she relaxed.
Now, seated with one foot tucked up beneath her, she cast him a sideways glance, catching him watching the play of the firelight over her hair. He had to admit to a certain fascination at the way the dancing light burnished the tresses in alternating patterns of gold, dark red, and black. He’d been doing that a lot lately. Watching her. Idly he wondered if her hair would feel as silky against his fingers as he thought. The image of her tresses spread out over a pillow or across his chest had him sucking in a sharp breath.
He curled his fingers around the stem of his wine glass to keep from reaching out for her. “What did you end up doing today?”
Wrong thing to say. Rowan lowered her eyes, her expression turning guarded. “I went hiking.”
Greyson took a swallow of wine as he considered why hiking would be a wary subject for her. “Where?”
“Off Trail Ridge Road.”
Ah, where he’d suggested taking her. Greyson flashed a grin. “If you didn’t want to spend the day with your boss, all you had to do was say so.”
“It wasn’t that—”
He reached across the space between them and put a hand over hers, which twisted in her lap. “Do I make you nervous, Rowan?”
She whipped her head to look at Greyson, who noted her reaction with interest. “No.”
Liar. “So it’s my position
as your boss? Or maybe with the Council?”
“Not your position exactly…” Now she was hedging. “More what you do. I imagine you must be a powerful warlock to be the lead Enforcer for the Council.”
“I would never use my power against you, Rowan. I hope you know that.”
Now she flashed that cheeky grin, the one that had stolen his breath the day she walked into the house unannounced, past all his wards, and spelled his daughters. “You couldn’t risk losing another nanny.”
Compelled by the teasing dancing in her eyes and the need to take and keep that smile for his own, Greyson scooted across the couch, closer to her, allowing her wildflower scent to wash over him. Rowan’s eyes widened at his nearness, though he didn’t touch her. At this distance, even by the dim light of the fire, he could see flecks of blue in the grey irises. “I mean it. You will always be safe with me.”
Instead of relief or trust, a deep sadness fell over her expression like a cloud blocking the light of the sun. And fear. Just before she closed her eyes, shutting him out. A fierce, protective instinct surged through him with a strength that shocked the hell out of him. But before he could say more, she closed the distance between them. Shock held him immobile as she pressed her lips sweetly to his.
He wanted to sink into the kiss, plunder her mouth, and possess her body, while at the same time cherishing everything she was. But she pulled back before he could act.
“You’re a good man, Greyson Masters.”
Why was she using his full name? She only ever called him Grey.
Rowan opened her eyes, wariness darkening the color to storm. “But you don’t know me. I’m…trouble.”
Sensing she wouldn’t welcome the desire coursing through him, he held the emotions in check, even as questions swirled through his mind. He tucked a tendril of hair back from her face, noting its soft texture against his fingertips.
Silk. I knew it. “I could use more trouble in my life.”
A laugh burst from her, warming his heart. “Chasing down magic offenders and keeping track of triplets who go into the woods in a trance isn’t enough trouble for you?”
