by Mary Hughes
“Why?”
“Why? Um, well, the reason I wanted to talk with you is…” What had she wanted to ask? Are you dating? What’s your phone number? What size condom do you wear? She rubbed her eyes. “My aunt. Linda.” She dropped her hand and met his silver gaze. “I think you were the last person to see her. Do you know where she went?”
“I’m sorry, no. She left the bookstore when I did, but she didn’t share her plans with me.”
Disappointment gnawed Sophia’s gut. “Can you at least tell me if she was okay?”
“Yes.” His response was immediate and reassuring. “Don’t worry about your aunt. She was fine. A little flustered, but fine.”
He’d seen her worry and didn’t hesitate to comfort her. He must be a very good alpha.
“I’m relieved to hear it. What about that boy my aunt called you in for? Was he still in the store at that point?”
“Marlowe? The boy is my responsibility. I can assure you he will be punished and your aunt reimbursed. In fact, if you want to get repairs going, I’ll personally vouch for the funds.”
“Thank you.” All that muscle, and responsible too. Some little she-wolf was going to be very lucky someday. “But that’s not what I meant. I’d like to talk with him. Do you know where he lives?”
Something shuttered in Noah’s gaze. “The boy left before I did. He knows nothing.” The reply had “back off” stamped all over it.
As if that would stop her. She gave a mental shrug. She’d have to get the boy’s address another way. “I’d better get back to the bookstore. If you think of anything, come see me, okay? The sign will be Closed, but I’ll be there.”
“You and me. Alone.” His molten gaze ran over her, chasing a shiver from her head to her toes and back again, lingering on her lips so long she had to work not to lick them. Finally he said, “Let me get this straight. You want me, a stranger, to come to the bookstore, where we’ll be alone—after what just happened between us?”
Put like that, reinforced by his hot all-over gaze, it sounded like an invitation to ravish her. “Uh…yes?”
He shook his head, more disbelief than a no. “You’re temptation on a stick. I’m not quite that masochistic.”
“Me? Have you been chewing Viagra?” She considered herself, banker chic in navy-blue pants suit, pumps and pearls. “I’m no cover model.”
“I’ve never cared for eau de airbrush. Believe me, your real beauty is far more alluring.” His eyes fired white-hot on her, a beastly hunger that was pure wolf.
That look promised instant ravaging. Hot, hard, animal sex.
She swallowed all the way to where she was wet. She wasn’t completely certain she’d stop him.
He took a single step toward her. Her heart thudded…he inhaled, so deep his fine nostrils flared. His hands fisted with a second breath. Then he relaxed and the man was in full control again. “Good luck finding your aunt. I’ll see you out.”
She turned toward the door, not trusting herself to speak. Hesitated. The way to the exit was a dark blob. She’d stared at the bright shop light too long.
He put a hand on her spine to steer her out.
His big, hot hand. It seared her back, so fiery her lungs seized up.
He didn’t seem to notice. As he urged her toward the door he said, “Look, I understand you’re worried about Linda. I do have resources that might help. I’ll give you a call later.”
“Thanks.” Sophia tried not to jump on that. Noah Blackwood, unmated, was far too tempting. Never mind not encouraging him. She didn’t want to encourage herself. “But I’ll manage.”
Sophia needed to find Marlowe’s address but without a last name, a simple Internet search might not net her the right boy shifter. Fortunately the town’s premier news source, the Misses Jamies, was on her route back to the store.
Matinsfield had changed since she’d been here last, a new Green W drugstore on the corner and a SuperDuperPriceCutter past the ballpark, but the sisters still lived in their brownstone in the center of town.
If there was any truth to the zombie rumor, they always would.
It was full dark. Sophia zipped from streetlamp to streetlamp, trying not to look victimish, alert for hooded men. But every shadow seemed to stir and by the time she hit the Jamies’ front walk her heart pounded and her breath rasped. Relief flooded her when Miss Almira, tall and thin with long front teeth and shoe-polish black hair, threw open the door.
Relieved too soon. Almira latched onto Sophia’s arm and dragged her inside like a snake taking a frog. “You’re finally here. Have you gotten the Uncommon’s door fixed?”
“I was going to call—”
“Gladys Louise will do that.” Almira raised her voice. “Gladys Louise! Get Frank Fixit on the line.”
Heavyset Miss Gladys Louise, short wavy blonde hair going gray, eyes small and bright, bustled in with a tray of cookies and lemonade. Almira and Gladys Louise were a set of fifties’ sitcom spinsters in twinsets and pleated skirts whose noses twitched at the slightest hint of gossip.
“Sophia! Sit, dear, sit,” Miss Gladys Louise piped. She always piped. “Wonderful that you came. Now Noah doesn’t have to handle this problem all on his own.”
Noah. Sophia’s lips vibrated in memory. She pressed her fingers to them to still them—found them soft and swollen from the wolf’s kiss. Her cheeks flushed with heat.
Almira gave her a narrow-eyed, arched-eyebrow stare.
Sophia grinned and pointed. “Oh look. Is that lemonade? I’m awfully thirsty.”
Almira gave a little hmph. “Gladys Louise?”
“Make sure she tries the chocolate chip cookies, Almira.” Gladys Louise set the tray on the table and poured. “I whipped them up fresh. I’ll go call Mr. Fixit now.” She bustled out.
The broken-down car had made the trip long and dusty, and Sophia was thirsty. Nothing to do with alpha-buzzing lips at all. She picked up a tall sweating glass and took a big gulp.
And promptly sucked her uvula into her nose. Gladys Louise had flavored it with a dash of lemon zest—and a quart of brandy.
Coughing, Sophia set the glass down. She managed, “I don’t suppose you know where Aunt Linda is?”
“No. Did you ask Noah?” As Almira spoke she filled a small plate with cookies and set it in front of Sophia.
“He hasn’t seen her since the kid from his group broke into the store—a local named Marlowe, who I want to ask about Auntie. Do you where I can find him?”
“Marlowe lives just past the gas station.” Almira’s mouth pinched as she pointed east. “You don’t want to go there, though.”
“I don’t? Why not?”
“Is tomorrow good?” Gladys Louise stuck her head out the kitchen door, an old-fashioned handset complete with curly black cord at her ear. “Eight a.m. is Mr. Fixit’s first opening.”
Sophia grimaced. “Could he come tonight? I’d pay extra.” Auntie didn’t believe in indoor locks, and her wards were off during store hours—from after supper until three a.m. Sophia wouldn’t do any sleeping in an unsecured house with that hooded guy lurking.
Mr. Kibbles wasn’t much of a watch cat.
“I’ll try, dear.” Gladys Louise disappeared back into the kitchen.
Sophia set down her glass and picked up a cookie. Her fingers sank in. “Why shouldn’t I visit Marlowe?” She tried a bite. It melted in her mouth.
“You know I’d never gossip or say an unkind word about anyone.” Almira nibbled a cookie.
“Of course not.” Unless it was followed by an I’m kidding or a bless his soul. Then even the most poisonous declaration was somehow okay.
Sophia stuffed two cookies in her mouth to stop her from saying any of that.
“Not a mean word…but Marlowe is the exception. He has a problem with wandering fingers. Cash, jewelry—women. His brother, Kil
ler, is even worse.”
Sophia swallowed hard. “Ah.”
Almira tsked. “You’re going anyway, aren’t you? You Blues always were stubborn women.”
“We prefer focused.” Sophia brushed her hands on her slacks and rose. “Thanks, Miss Almira. I appreciate your help. I’d better get back to the bookstore and batten down as best I can.”
“Good news.” Gladys Louise bustled out of the kitchen. “Mr. Fixit fit you in—a personal favor to me.” She blushed.
“Thanks.” From that deep red, the favor was very personal.
“Do get home as quickly as possible.” Almira walked Sophia to the door. “Things aren’t what they used to be in Matinsfield.”
“Dangerous,” Gladys Louise agreed. “Especially with that hooded man lurking about.”
Sophia spun on the stoop, heart suddenly pounding. “W-who?”
Almira raised a critical brow. “You sound like an owl.”
“Shush,” Gladys Louise said. “We call him X.”
Sophia swallowed a lump of ice. For the Misses not to know something was unheard of.
“Otherwise we’d have said ‘George’ is lurking about, or ‘Heathcliff’ is lurking about, or—”
“Right. My mistake. I’ll be off now.” Sophia stuffed her heart back in her chest and headed to the bookstore.
Mr. Fixit was already there, replacing the glass. Gladys Louise must’ve made one helluva promise. Sophia said, “I don’t suppose you could update the lock too?” The door still had the old-fashioned rod-style key it had come with in the 1800s.
“I’ll order ’er up tomorrow.” He finished the inside glazing. “Don’t touch this or bump the door for a few days. I’ll send your aunt the bill.”
“Actually, you can send it to Noah Blackwood.” She flipped on the lights. The sign was set to Closed and she’d lock the door after Mr. Fixit left. Hopefully there wouldn’t be too many disappointed customers. Aunt Linda often kept irregular hours.
“Oh good. I like Blackwood—he pays promptly.” Mr. Fixit clicked the door shut behind him.
Sophia watched him go through the window. Her gaze drifted to the dark shadows across the street. She was alone in the store, and though the door was fixed now, a boy breaking in the first time had shown how easily it could be done. Her heart thumped faster.
Brrring.
She jumped. Nearly zapped the wall phone with a short-out spell but managed to stifle it. She thought about letting it ring but realized it might be Auntie and ran to answer.
She grabbed the old-fashioned ear trumpet and panted, “Hello?”
“Doing marathons now?” Gabriel’s deep voice held a hint of amusement.
“Hello to you too, brother dear.” She tried to control her breath. A witch, scared of a little night? She’d never hear the end of it. She managed to wheeze, “I was out searching for Aunt Linda. I just got back.”
“You need to work on your stamina.”
“Sure, as soon as you work on your manners. Are you calling for a reason?”
“I was worried. You texted that the door was broken and then nothing. I tried your cell, but you didn’t answer. It’s been almost an hour. Why were you so late getting up there in the first place?”
She checked her phone. Two missed calls. She took it off vibrate. “I had car trouble.”
“I thought I fixed that.”
Normally, technology mixed with magic like lemonade and potato chips. Theory had it that a witch’s magical aura—or neural fields or whatever—fritzed the technology.
Sophia’s technology was fine, with a little help.
Gabriel was a wizard prince—but more, he was a Choice Buy Techie Titan. He dealt with bit-challenged mundane users all day, so it was easy for him to make recalcitrant technology sit up and rumba, even for witches. Something to do with aligning rare earth elements in the logic-gated components. Sophia tried to listen but her eyes glazed.
“You couldn’t have done anything about this. It was a mundane failure. A carbegumerator injector thingy.”
“Gotta love injector thingies. Update me.”
She told him about the boy-wolf Marlowe tripping Auntie’s store alarm, and Auntie calling in the pack alpha to handle it, without mentioning Noah by name. “Now Auntie’s gone, but nobody knows where.”
“Cap’n Crunch me. That’s not good.”
“I have a lead I’ll try tomorrow. Oh, and Auntie got a dog.”
“What kind?”
“A little poofy one.”
“Now I’m scared. Those fuckers are like stealth sharks. No ankles are safe. About Aunt Linda.” Gabriel paused and Sophia knew she wouldn’t like what was coming next. “If you would do a simple reveal spell—”
“Not happening.”
Gabriel blew out a sigh. “Okay. I’m not going to backseat drive. But anytime you want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Thanks.” When it counted, Gabriel was the best brother in the universe. “I’ll talk to Marlowe tomorrow. Noah said he’d call me too, although I said I could handle it.” But she sort of hoped he’d call anyway.
“Noah? Who’s Noah?” Gabriel’s tone was brightly inquisitive.
“Nobody. Nothing. Gotta go.” She hung up and spun away from the phone, thinking she’d saved herself with her quick action.
Only to see a man’s shadowed face in the door’s crosshatch.
Her heart skipped. “Who…?” Her voice cracked, her mouth suddenly dry. She tried to swallow. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me. Sophia, open up.”
Any trouble she’d had swallowing disappeared in sudden influx of saliva. Noah. She ran to open the door to him.
He didn’t enter immediately but stood there, filling the doorway, as still as the night, dark and deep and born of enormous strength.
It both scared and excited her. She swallowed again.
Against the doorjamb’s height tapes, he measured several inches above six feet. Miles of shoulders, acres of chest, light-years long legs, dark flannel shirt and jeans worn white—framed by the doorway, the man looked like a hard-hewn Paul Bunyan.
Excitement took the lead by a nose, then by a big long lick. If she got any hotter she was going to fling the door wide to jump his bones. Not a good ending for the new panes. “Um…c’mon in? Watch your feet. There’s broken glass.”
The garage’s half light had softened his details. Now as he surged into the store, his hard features cut like the prow of an icebreaker. Carved, determined jaw. No-nonsense mouth. Silver eyes so narrow they sliced. Sophia backed up automatically.
He stopped and stood, fists on hips. Dominating her aunt’s store, he wasn’t just regular-guy handsome. He was breath-sucking, eye-watering, gut-punching, great gods above can-I-have-him-please stunning.
And taboo, damn it.
One black brow rose. “What’s that rattling?”
Demon…? She glanced down. She was futzing with her pearls. She deliberately released them and lowered her arm. “Nothing. Close the door, please. Softly—that glass is new.”
He shut the door with a gentleness that, given his power, was stepped-up sexy.
“You were going to call. Why’d you come?” She winced. Come. The surging force of all that was Big, Dark and Yowsa pushed her to flee, seeking the sanctuary of the reading nook. She trotted toward a couch.
“I know you said you can handle it. But I think I can help.” Two long-legged strides brought him alongside her.
She cut a sideways glance at him. His muscular legs worked easily, his hips rolling like well-oiled pistons. An intense desire to fuse herself to those hot hips seared her.
She clenched both pearls and teeth. What was wrong with her? She was a staid banker. Maybe that was it. She was surrounded all day by boat anchors in suits and ties, and Noah was a fleet pirate clipper com
pared to them. Wild, fresh air in her face. Howling at the moon…
Yikes. No wonder the Witches’ Council forbade witch/shifter sex. Sure, they said it was because the fruit of such pairings was a dual, a child with both innate power and able to wield it—and often insane. A werewitch king once set himself up as a demigod and tried to kill every other witch on the planet. That didn’t go over so well.
The Council was all over themselves out to avoid that again. So they made it a crime. But this intense attraction…now she understood why, to make absolutely certain witches and weres never got naughty parts within unclothed miles of each other, they made the penalty as harsh as possible.
Death.
She stopped. “Wait a minute.” Mind on Council death penalties, she spun, trotted back to the door and locked it with all the subtleness of a dog sniffing butt.
She only realized what she’d done when the low growl thrummed through the store. Slowly, she turned.
Noah stared at her, silver eyes blazing. Her gaze was locked helplessly with his…until he moved to adjust his jeans. Then her eyes dropped to the biggest Jiffy Pop she’d ever seen. Too late she remembered what he’d said at Mason’s.
He was thinking what they could do, locked together alone in a closed store.
The worst part was, she was wondering too.
Chapter Four
She’d locked the door.
Noah had hustled Sophia out of the Blackwood garage because their kiss had knocked him off his feet. The way she reacted to him, giving so honestly of herself, took his breath away. Never before had he tasted a woman so lively, so bright—so right.
Which was so wrong. Alphas screwed other shifters, and strong shifters at that. They rarely screwed fragile humans, and they especially didn’t screw witches’ nieces.
It confused him, and a confused alpha was a dead alpha, so he’d hustled her out and run the other way as fast as he could.
Leaving her unprotected. His spirit rebelled against that.
He didn’t understand why, until he latched onto his promise to talk with her later. He’d come here, telling himself it was only to fulfill his promise. She’d asked for his help, and he needed to give her information, but he didn’t know her phone number to call so he’d had to come in person.
