Wolf Marked (Magic Side: Wolf Bound Book 1)

by Veronica Douglas

  “Market Street. The best place to find random stuff.” I parked in front of Donahue’s Hardware and Alchemical Supplies.

  She turned to me with a look of confusion. “What are we doing here? Buying a magic hammer?”

  “First, you need some new boots. You’re too slow and need to run faster.” Again, my eyes drifted to her long, lean legs.

  Irritation colored her face. “I’ll have you know I was the state champ in the four-hundred-meter in track. I am fast, just not four-legged fast.”

  A track champ. So that explained her speed—she was a natural.

  “We’ll have to do something about that,” I replied.

  She scowled at me. “What do you suggest, I grow an extra pair of legs?”

  “That idea hadn’t crossed my mind.” I lifted my brows. “Why don’t we start with boots?”

  To my surprise, she shrank against the door. “Did you just flippantly imply that you could turn me into a werewolf? Are you infectious or something?”

  I snarled at the impudent woman. “Lycanthropy is extremely rare. Maybe one in ten thousand wolves have the gene to pass it on. I could bite you a hundred times, and you’d be fine. If slightly tender.” She definitely needed a good nip.

  Savannah raised her hands defensively. “I didn’t mean to offend. Just wondering if I should be worried. And please don’t bite me.”

  Savannah would make a terrible wolf. Disobedient, hot-headed, infuriating.

  “You have nothing to worry about,” I said gruffly, swallowing my irritation.

  “Good.” She averted her eyes, and I sensed her relief.

  I opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk. “You did look nice in that wolf mask, if it’s any consolation.”

  She snorted and slid out of the truck. “Not really.”

  A woman stepped out of Updos with a hairstyle that looked like an intricate bird’s nest. Savannah did a double take when a live bluebird poked its head up from inside. “Wow.”

  “The things women do for beauty these days, I’ll never understand.”

  It was true—real beauty was natural. Before I could stop myself, I glanced at Savannah.

  “What now?” she asked, noticing my roving eyes.

  I cleared my throat. “Nothing.”

  We walked down the street in silence. I relished the quiet as Savannah took in the sights around her. We passed an eyeglass shop that sold night-vision contact lenses, then a clothing store with dresses that flashed different colors in the window. I stopped in front of The Cordwainer’s Curiosities. “And here we are.”

  Like its neighbors, the store’s window held a selection of its wares—in this case, the finest shoes on offer. Rather than sitting on pedestals or boxes, however, each pair was levitating and engaged in some fashion of movement in place. The tennis shoes were jogging, the red flamenco heels stamped in a rhythmic dance, and the black stilettos sashayed like they were walking down a catwalk.

  Savannah shot me a wide smile. “Magic shoes?”

  “I told you you’re too slow.”

  She rolled her eyes but stepped through the front door with a spring I hadn’t seen since we entered the Fair the night before. I couldn’t stop my smile as I followed her in.

  Shelves of floating shoes filled every space along the walls, and Savannah’s eyes landed on a pair of bright pink platform heels that were on display in the center of the shop.

  “Ah, welcome.” A stout, bald man appeared from out of a back room. He adjusted the apron tied around his front and flamboyantly gestured to the pink heels. “The new line from Andrea Todorova. Gorgeous, aren’t they? You can walk miles in them, and they’ll feel like you’re dancing over clouds.”

  “Seriously? They’re gorgeous.” Savannah ran her fingers over the smooth leather.

  I could easily imagine how those might look on her as she moved around a stage, her hair flying behind her.

  Hair like flames.

  She was an asset. That was all.

  “We’re in the market for a pair of running boots,” I said, my voice rough.

  The shopkeeper glanced at Savannah, then cast me a look over his glasses, and recognition dawned on his face. “I see. For the slow-footed.”

  Savannah shot me a deadly expression, and I forced a grin. “Exactly.”

  “A pair of Swiftleys might do.” The shopkeeper waved his hand dismissively at her feet. “Could you remove…those things? For a fitting.”

  With a sigh, she shucked off her old tennis shoes and plopped down on a bench. The little man slipped out a long wooden wand and touched it to her right toe.

  He closed his eyes. “What would you like? What fits, hmm?”

  “Well, I’m generally a size nine,” she answered.

  “I’m not talking to you,” the man muttered.

  “Then who—"

  “Your feet. I think it only makes sense to get their opinion on the matter.” He touched the wand to her left foot and nodded, apparently listening intently. Savannah gaped, but without another word, the shopkeeper disappeared in the back.

  “Was that for real?” she asked me, her eyes wide.

  “Honestly, I have no idea, but I wouldn’t get a fit anywhere else.”

  The bald man returned a minute later with a pair of black biker boots made of smooth leather with a buckle over the front and a one-inch heel. Savannah slid her feet into the boots and moaned, then circled the store twice. I could sense her joy. She’d witnessed unimaginable horrors in the past week, yet somehow, was still capable of experiencing delight.

  She was strong hearted.

  Savannah grinned. “These are amazing.”

  Watching her reaction to this new world was like seeing everything for the first time. A broad smile slowly spread across my face. “Just wait until you run in them.”

  “Can I really run in biker boots?”

  The bald man made an irritated squeak and threw up his hands. “Of course you can. They’re Swiftleys. It’s literally what they’re for! Why else would I bring them to you?”

  She tensed and seemed about ready to dig into the man, but then she shook her head and turned her attention back to the boots with unabashed adoration in her eyes. “How fast can I go?”

  “I cruise around forty miles an hour,” I replied, “so that’s your benchmark.”

  Her eyes widened. “Holy crap, that would easily double my speed at a sprint.”

  A glimmer of concern drifted into my mind. She’d need to be faster than me to outrun the rogue wolves. They must have been using some kind of enchantment or physical enhancement as well. I needed to know more.

  As she admired the boots, doubt clouded her face. “How much—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I like the thought of you keeping up. Who knows, maybe you’ll be my match.”

  30

  Savannah

  “When do I get to try these babies out?” I stared down at my new kicks with glee as we drove back through the Flats. They were the most gorgeous black biker boots I’d ever seen.

  I caught Jaxson watching me from the corner of my eye. He seemed pleased, less like the weight of the world was hanging on his shoulders. His arm hung out the window, and the eternal tension in his frame had relaxed. Slightly. Maybe below that brooding and cold exterior, he had a fun side.

  “Let’s give them a spin now, if you’re up to it,” he said, turning into a parking lot beside the forested park he’d pointed out to me earlier. The lot was empty, and he pulled into a spot in front of the sign with Avery’s Point, Est. 1887 on it.

  “Has your family been here that long?” I gestured to the date on the sign.

  He got out of the truck. “You ask a lot of questions.”

  Nope, I was wrong. There was nothing fun about Jaxson. I sighed and climbed out.

  “My family has been here since the early eighteen-hundreds, when the island was founded,” he said. “Same as yours.”

  Right. The feud ran deep. I recalled what Uncle Pe
te had said about the wolves grabbing land from the LaSalles, and I wondered if Jaxson and the pack saw it that way.

  “Ready to run?” Jaxson asked with a glint in his eyes.

  “I was born to run.” I tightened the laces and double-bowed them—no need to be tripping ass over tea kettle in front of him. “Anything I should know?”

  “Start slow. They’ll take some getting used to. If you go too fast, you might feel unbalanced and lose control.”

  Meaning I’ll go ass over tea kettle.

  I had no idea how these beautiful boots were going to make me run faster. Hell, I’d probably trip and break my nose, but I didn’t care. They were the most comfortable shoes I’d ever stepped into. A soft-cushioned bed supported my arches, and my toes had room to spare. My heart had been sold the moment I’d slipped them on.

  Jaxson took off into the woods at what seemed like a stroll for him, though for human legs, it was more like an Olympic sprint.

  Here goes nothing.

  I took two steps and surged forward, my feet moving like they had rockets attached to them. I stifled a shriek as I dodged a tree trunk and then a boulder, trying to wrap my mind around focusing on my feet while avoiding obstacles that were coming at me way faster than normal. Just as I thought I was getting the hang of it, I tripped over a fallen log and crashed into the mossy ground at high speed.

  Pain ripped through my shoulder, and I gasped, stifling a shout.

  Damn. That was going to leave a bruise or two.

  “I told you, take it slow.” Jaxson circled back and helped me to my feet.

  “Yeah, easier said than done.” I shrugged him off, plucking branches out of my hair.

  Running in the boots wasn’t actually that much different than skates—at least when the falling part came in. I should have had my rollerblading helmet and wrist guards. I’d look ridiculous, but it would be better than concussing myself or breaking a wrist.

  It took about thirty minutes to finally get the hang of the things. We must have circled the park a dozen times, and I was pretty damn exhausted.

  Jaxson, of course, seemed fresh as a daisy. He slowed and stepped through the trees onto a rocky beach. A light wind blew off the lake, and the water gently lapped at the shore. My shirt was sweaty, and a dip sounded divine.

  “You’ve almost got the running down,” he said, “but that’s not going to be enough. These wolves are fast, and there’s no knowing when they’ll strike. You need to learn how to escape a grapple and chokehold. You panicked last night.”

  I planted myself in front of him and tilted my head to meet his gaze. “All things considered, I’d say I was pretty damn calm.”

  His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tensed. “You won’t be armed with wolfsbane next time.”

  I said nothing, but I’d already asked Casey to get me another bottle as a fail-safe.

  “You’d better not be thinking what I think you are.” His voice was rough and gravelly, and an involuntary shiver worked its way down my spine.

  “Never.” I gave him the look, which usually made people back off. “Now teach me some moves, Jaxson, before I get bored.”

  Jaxson cocked his head and regarded me closely, looking confused. Amusement glinted in his eyes. “Where did you learn that?”

  I frowned and put my hands on my hips. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “That look on your face.” A faint smile ghosted his lips. “It doesn’t work on me the way you think it does.”

  The look worked on everybody. I stared at him blankly, then shrugged. It must not have worked on him because he was an alpha or something.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  I nodded impatiently.

  He moved so quickly, I barely had time to register his arm wrapping around my neck, constricting my airway.

  I couldn’t breathe. Flashbacks of last night swam before my eyes—the demon’s claws around my throat. I fought them down. Jaxson was a man, not a demon.

  I elbowed him in the stomach and brought my heel down on his foot.

  He released me, though I knew it wasn’t because of anything I’d done. He could probably take a knife to the chest without blinking an eye.

  “Good. So you do know some basic self-defense.”

  My mom had brought me up to be scrappy. After my parents were gone, I’d just been a kid in a new school with a kooky godmother, which had made me fair game for bullies. I’d had to learn a few moves. Nothing standard—I mainly fought dirty. Whatever worked.

  “I thought you were going to show me some moves, not attack me,” I spat.

  Without warning, he stepped forward and grabbed my neck. Heat pulsed through his palm and continued straight through me. His grip on my throat was gentle, but knowing that he could end me if he wanted to with just the faintest twist of his wrist sent a thrill through my body. Almost a turn-on, for some deranged reason.

  What the hell was wrong with me?

  I twisted and brought my elbow down on his arm hard, breaking his grip, then slipped behind him and struck him square in the back with my forearm.

  Jaxson spun and grabbed my wrist, then yanked me backward into his chest in a bear hug. Heat flared where my form pressed against his, and my anger blossomed. Why was my body reacting this way?

  I elbowed him in the ribs, and he growled in my ear as he pushed me forward. I stumbled on the rocks but stayed upright and twisted to face him. His eyes blazed a deep honey color, and his lips pulled into a twisted smile that was both a warning and an invitation.

  Shivers raked my skin, and my pulse quickened. We circled each other. His stance was relaxed and loose, yet he was a predator waiting to strike.

  When Jaxson lunged forward, I tried to dash to the side, but his arms wrapped around me, pulling me against his chest. His fingers were iron, digging into my flesh, and I knew that if he wanted, they could burst into claws. He leaned close and whispered, “You have fire.”

  His breath was hot on my neck, and quivers arced down my spine. I couldn’t distinguish fear from desire.

  He released his hold and gently pushed me away. “Relax your body and keep your knees bent. You have speed—use it to your advantage.”

  I glared at him but relaxed my shoulders and bounced lightly on my knees.

  “Good. Now raise your arms.” He positioned his body slightly askew and raised his fists. “One to block an attack, the other to strike.”

  He showed me the movements, and I watched closely, memorizing the way his body moved with grace and precision. He was a natural fighter. It was easy to imagine him with claws bared, ripping into men and beasts. Savage. Lethal. Relentless.

  Something about that bothered me in all the worst ways.

  He’d fight for you. He did it last night.

  My skin flushed, and I gritted my teeth, trying to focus on the moves that might save my life and not on all the ways that I wanted Jaxson. I could smell his sweat and power, a druglike combination I craved.

  I stumbled, and Jaxson shot me a devilish grin and stepped back. “Focus, Savannah. I think your mind’s on other things.”

  Oh, God, kill me now. What’s wrong with me? Blood rushed to my face, and I died a little inside as we began circling each other again.

  He taunted me a few times, which was good, as it helped me focus on punching that arrogant grin off his face. He attacked, and I met his strike with my forearm, then stepped to the side and brought my fist to his jaw. Before it made contact, he turned and caught my fist. I lost my footing on the loose rocks, but he steadied me before I could fall.

  “You’re a fast learner,” he purred.

  I probably wasn’t much more than a toy in his hands. I steadied myself and pushed him away as my frustration bloomed. “What’s next, Laurent?”

  The air between us sparked with electricity, and Jaxson’s eyes turned an even richer honey-gold.

  He stepped forward slowly, like a predator stalking its prey, and leaned close. So close I could almost hear the rhythmic pulse o
f his heart. His breath caressed my skin. “I won’t hurt you…but you better run.”

  Mid-sentence, his voice turned husky and almost bestial. My heart stalled for a couple beats.

  What the fuck?

  I bolted.

  I knew Jaxson wouldn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t sure about the thing within him. The creature that I’d seen break a man in half.

  Trees flew past. A root caught my foot, but I recovered.

  Not too fast. Slow and steady wins the race.

  Actually, I doubted that very much.

  My feet thundered over the ground in a steady rhythm. I concentrated on each footstep, rebounding off solid logs and carefully dodging obstructions, trying not to faceplant into a tree.

  A growl sounded behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder.

  Jaxson was closing, fast.

  He’d said he wouldn’t hurt me, but my heart hammered in my chest all the same. I turned onto a game trail and ratcheted up to high speed.

  A howl echoed through the forest, sending quakes of fear through my body.

  That bastard. I’d told him I wasn’t ready to meet his wolf, the monster I’d seen last night. Was Jaxson even in control?

  Sam’s words replayed in my mind: When we’re in wolf form, our wolves are in the driver’s seat, so to speak, and can be unpredictable.

  I jumped at movement on my right. A blur flashed by, and my heartbeat thundered in my skull as another growl came from bushes on my other flank.

  I was being hunted.

  A ravine appeared ahead. I jumped over the edge and slid down the embankment, then booked it in the opposite direction, toward the beach. The euphoria of freedom and power flashed through me.

  How do you like me now, alpha wolf?

  A crash rang out above me, and I screamed as a blur moved down the embankment. Stumbling, I caught myself before colliding with a boulder. I cast a quick glance sideways and saw Jaxson—not in wolf form—with a wide grin on his damn face.

  Cocky bastard.

  I raced toward the shore, running as fast as my boots would take me. There weren’t any trees in the ravine, so I only had to focus on the boulders and broken logs.

  My adrenaline surged as the lake appeared a couple hundred feet ahead—the finish line.