by Mary Hughes
She managed a toothy grin in reply. “Except for the last time we met.”
His smile disappeared. “Last time was an aberration.” He lashed out with, “Too bad your aunt left. I had a little surprise for her.”
She clenched fists. “Bastard.”
“Enough.” Noah took a single step and was somehow in front of her. His stance was deadly, the wolf who protected his own. “Leave.”
While he was more than a match for any human or shifter, Rodolphe was a wizard. That challenge was sure to be met with magic, and Noah couldn’t hope to compete. Acid flooded her stomach.
Rodolphe straightened as if surprised. “You dare to tell me what to do?” He reached in his pocket.
Noah took one threatening step forward.
Rodolphe flinched; then he scowled. “You won’t be so bold after I deflate you like a balloon.” His hand rose from his pocket, something pink in it.
Noah leaped.
Before Rodolphe could extract his wand or whatever he held, the wolf had his arms pinned in a hug. Rodolphe struggled but didn’t shift the powerful alpha one jot.
“Drop it.” Noah’s voice was all growl. “Now.” He goosed the word with a squeeze that nearly cracked the wizard’s ribs.
“All right, all right!” Rodolphe’s voice squeaked like a little girl as he dropped the pink thing back in his pocket.
“Sophia. Get the leash.”
She hesitated leaving Noah with the wizard, but against all odds, it seemed the wolf had him stymied. She darted inside, grabbed the new leather leash, and returned it to Noah. Noah used it to bind Rodolphe’s hands behind him.
“Now go.” Noah released the bound wizard with a push.
Rodolphe stumbled before catching his balance. He covered it with an irritated shrug. “I have business elsewhere anyway. I’ll be seeing you soon, dear Sophia.” He gave her a mocking wink and stalked off.
Noah’s glare followed Rodolphe until he disappeared. “Bite me. Who was that?”
Sophia sighed. “Trouble. Let’s go inside. I’ll call a tow truck and explain while I’m waiting.” And after she pulled herself together, she’d call the Witches’ Council so they could send out the Enforcers.
“Mason will fix your car. He can fix anything.” Noah followed her through the door, growl still in his voice. “Sophia, who?”
The wolf’s presence was a strange mix of comforting and dangerous. “The long story takes a while. The short story? That was the biggest ass you’ll ever meet—should’ve been liposuctioned years ago.”
“Given. But what’s his name?” Almost as an afterthought Noah added the words she’d hoped he hadn’t heard. “And what did he mean when he called you a witch?”
Her step faltered, heart stuttering. “Could you phone Mason first?” She couldn’t look at him.
“Sophia—”
“Please?”
“Fine.” He stalked off.
She fled to the reading area and collapsed into one of her aunt’s chairs to try to pull herself together. Clasping her elbows, she gathered the tatters of her self-control. She’d thought Rodolphe was out of her life for good.
Why now? With her magic she’d have been more than a match for him. But without it she was in danger, and Noah too. Next time the wizard wouldn’t stand within leaping distance of the wolf. Stars and moon, how could she stop Rodolphe then, how could she fight him without magic? Pepper spray and stern looks wouldn’t stop a wizard. She could run. Hide. Throw up. She grasped her pearls so tight she nearly crushed them.
“Sophia, what’s wrong?”
She opened her eyes to see Noah was off the phone, his silver gaze concerned. Bigger than big, stronger than strong.
But even an alpha couldn’t hope to defeat a wizard in the long run. Noah had to get out now, while he could. Protect his pack, maybe by getting them to take a vacation. South, like Illinois, or Texas, or Rio de Janeiro. She’d heard Brazil was nice.
“Who is that man?”
Besides, once he heard the full story, he’d never want to see her again. She hitched a breath.
He sat next to her. “Tell me.”
“Damn it.” She blinked hot eyes. “Why do you have to be so persistent?”
“It’s a gift.” He gently gathered her hands from her pearls. “Let’s start slow. Who was that wizard?”
She shook her head. “How do you know Rodolphe’s a wizard?”
Noah touched his nose. “Your aunt smells different. The hooded creep had the same scent, only nastier.” Before she could ask another question he frowned at her. “You don’t. You smell like running free through a meadow on a spring day.”
His deep tones gave the words a poetry. Sophia blushed. “That’s sweet.” He wouldn’t say such sweet things once she told him the rest.
He took both her hands. “Sophia, please. I need to know if he’s a danger to my pack.”
Her chest iced. She needed to come clean and see the warmth in his eyes wither and die…for the best, what with shifter-witch smiting, but she needed some distance to get it out. “I want some tea. You?”
She didn’t give him a choice, popping to her feet and leading the way to the kitchen. Silently she busied herself filling the teakettle.
He leaned, arms folded, against the wall.
When the kettle was on the stove over a high flame she took a deep breath. “I was born a witch.” She glanced to see how he took it.
He flinched. “A witch?”
That hurt, but worse was coming. “Proud of it, at one time.” She paused getting the box of tea, shame pricking her nose and eyes. “I was strong, with ability across multiple elements. An, um…” She cleared her throat. “A witch princess.”
“You’re a what?” He backed away like she’d sprouted a rash.
“Hereditary witch princess.” She winced. “Although I prefer gene-recruited. But yeah. Long silk robes, power wand, sparkly tiara, the whole deal. Noah, please. I’m not a witch anymore, and this is difficult enough. Sit?”
Eyes narrowed like she was going to turn him into a toad, he nonetheless nodded and sat at the kitchen table.
She got down mugs, pressed leaves into two diffuser balls and settled them in the mugs with dual clinks. She stood a moment, her hands on the mugs, gathering her strength. “Once upon a time, I embraced everything being a witch meant. Like the kid who wanted to be president or prime minister, everything I did was fueled by determination to reach the top—High Minister of the Witches’ Council.”
“The Council. Sweet running prey.”
“You know about the Council?”
“Stories.” He shuddered.
“At least it’s not a crime syndicate, right?” She tried to laugh and failed. The kettle whistled. She was silent as she poured steaming water over the tea diffusers. Again, the task only lasted so long. “I studied hard and worked every talent I had to get accepted into the top Council-approved university in the country, the best damned freshman witch you ever saw. But even among mages, you can’t get to the top on grades alone. You need connections.”
“You’re a damned royal witch. What more connection do you need?”
The anger in his tone rippled unhappily up her spine. Trying to dunk both diffusers at once she fumbled it, sloshing tea onto the table.
With a small tch he took the mugs away from her, firmly but not unkindly. As he rose to get the dishcloth to wipe up, she sat and clasped her hands. Without his burning silver gaze it was easier to say what needed to be said.
“My connections would have been my parents. But they died in an airplane. A midair explosion.”
“Oh, Sophia.” He returned to her, tossed the cloth and took her clasped hands. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Her fingers relaxed under his.
“How old were you?”
“I was
eighteen. My brother was twenty.” That had spurred Gabriel’s need to make tech work with magic.
“Let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.” Noah gave her fingers a squeeze, released her hands and retrieved a jar of honey. He dosed the mugs with generous dollops of gold. Then he took their mugs into the store and sat on a couch.
She followed and sat beside him. He handed her hers, barely cool enough to hold, but the heat—and the sympathy in his eyes—strengthened her to go on. “I enrolled in the Council’s page program, hoping for a recommendation. At first I was a general gofer, fetching coffee and mail. I moved up to data entry on the Persons of Magic census, not popular but high-profile.”
She paused to sip, fingers wrapped around the mug for warmth. “I caught the eye of a very powerful water wizard named Rodolphe.”
A low growl emanated from Noah’s chest.
“On the surface he was everything I wanted to be. Successful. A sharp dresser. A sharp mind, or at least he had answers for everything. A sharp smile. Everything about him was sharp, which should have been a big red warning. But I was nineteen years old and thought I knew everything.” She blinked. A thread of wet heat ran down her cheek. “I didn’t know a damned thing.”
Noah put an arm around her shoulders in silent support.
Something deep inside her eased at that. “The Council’s upper house is hereditary, but mages in the lower house rely on training, raw power and connections. They work hard to get where they are, the best of the best. I was excited to come to Representative Rodolphe’s notice.” She shook her head. Such an idealistic idiot.
“You were nineteen and had no one to tell you better.”
“You’re being kind. Gabriel didn’t blunder like that. You wouldn’t have either.”
“I’ve made my own mistakes.” The flat, pained tone told her he had his own bitter history.
“I’m sorry.” She set a hand on his, to comfort him, but the simple touch eased her knotted shoulders too.
Their eyes connected briefly. The bright silver of his was more than she could bear. Her hand flew to her pearls and she looked away.
A beat. Then he prompted, “Rodolphe?”
“He said he’d known my parents. ‘My dear little witch,’ he said. ‘They’d want me to shepherd your career.’ That sold me. I was thrilled when he made me his assistant. But while he pretended to reinforce my training, he subtly skewed it. At first it was simply, ‘We work hard, so we make the hard decisions.’ I was all about hard work, so I lapped that up. Then he shifted to ‘People need us to make the hard decisions.’ Then, ‘People expect us to make the hard decisions. It’s our duty.’” She grabbed her pearls harder. “And then, ‘We make the decisions. It’s our right.’”
“Sophia, you were young.”
“Not so young by then.” She fisted pearls so tight she bruised bones. “I’ve never told anyone the full story but… I was twenty-two, under his influence for three years, when he came to me with a ‘special project’. ‘Terrorists,’ he said, ‘are planning a heinous attack on the mundane capital.’”
“Damn my paws.”
“Yes.” She laughed with no humor. “Blindly idealistic, I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t ask what kind of attack or where his information came from or even for proof. All I said was, ‘Yes sir. What can I do?’”
He set aside his mug and hers and took her in his arms. It gave her the courage to go on.
“Rodolphe said the terrorists were storing cash and account information in a mundane safe. ‘We can cut off their funding, stop the attack before it ever gets started, if we rob that safe.’
“At that point I did show a little brains. ‘What about the mundane police?’ I said. ‘Can’t we tell them and let them handle it?’
“He said, ‘No, my dear little witch.’ He always called me that, my dear little witch. I thought it meant that he cared about me; I thought it was sweet. I never noticed he only used it when he didn’t want me asking questions.”
Noah growled, “I’ll kill him.”
She pulled from his arms, her eyes flying to his. He’d defend her, even now? “Thank you, but…you may change your mind after you hear the rest. Rodolphe—he took my face in his hands. It was so sweet, I thought he was going to…that he was…well. When I was most vulnerable, he hit me with ‘Sophia. People expect us to make the hard decisions. We need to do this.’
“And because I trusted him, because I believed in magic and my heritage, I said meekly, ‘All right.’”
She only realized she was trembling when Noah pulled her back into his arms. His warmth ate the shivers away.
Eventually she squeezed out a tear and straightened away from him, wiping under her eyes. “There’s not much left. Rodolphe said, ‘My dear little witch, you have the most important job of all. I am giving you your first mission. You must break into the terrorists’ bank and capture those funds.’
“A mission. It sounded so special. I was scared and proud. I thought it was because he respected my power, my training—my excellence.” She twisted her hands in her lap. “Of course, it was really because the safe had complex electronics, and my brother Gabriel had spelled my wand against tech misfires. Rodolphe knew that—I’d boasted of it, gullible little twit that I was. So I used my technology-proof magic to get into the bank, open the safe and retrieve account information for two hundred thousand dollars and another sixty thousand in cash. I gave it to Rodolphe and thought I was a hero.” She twisted her fingers so hard they were white, but she didn’t feel the pain, overpowered by the sword’s edge of memory.
Noah took her hands and gently untwisted her fingers. So gentle.
She gazed into his face, willing him to look at her, to really see her. To know the worst.
His silver eyes held no condemnation, only deep sympathy.
Hers were brimming as she said, “The money wasn’t for a terrorist attack. It was fundraising for a little girl’s kidney transplant. I’d stolen the money that was supposed to save a child’s life.”
“God.” The silver mirrored.
Her only comfort was he couldn’t hate her worse than she hated herself. She swallowed hard. And again. Only after a third dry swallow could she go on. “When I found out, I was horrified. I flew to Rodolphe’s office for an explanation—still a gullible twit, I was sure he had one, sure that it was all a horrible mistake—but he’d gone. It took me a while to realize that he’d fled. That he’d lied to me and had known what the money was for all along.
“I told the Council’s Enforcers everything. They set a tracer spell on him, pinged him in the next city over. Ready to come back. The jerk honestly thought I’d take the fall for him.
“The moment the tracer hit him, he threw up a blinding spell and ran, hopping onto an ocean ship before the Enforcers could catch him. They continued to try magical means to find him, but he’d been on the enforcement committee. He knew their methods and countered every one.
“The possibility of catching him became slimmer and slimmer. So before it was too late for the child, I leaked the information to the mundane police.”
Noah sat straighter. “You told the cops about magic?”
“No. Only that Rodolphe had raided the girl’s fund and fled. It was enough. The mundanes tracked him to Europe and recovered the money. A combination of fingerprints, passport tracking and database searches saved that child.”
“Thank goodness.” Noah released her and sat straight. “But don’t you see? You can remove the hex. That means I won’t need Linda to defend yo…my pack.” His eyes blazed with fierce protectiveness and practicality, better than condemnation, but perhaps that would come later.
“Noah, no.” She raised her gaze to him. He shimmered in her view. “I told you the whole sorry story so you’d understand exactly why I can’t help. I hurt that poor girl when I meant to help and…I couldn’t go through that agai
n. I’m no longer a witch.”
“That’s not possible. Magic is born in.”
“How did you know that?”
“Reason,” he said quickly. “My shifting ability was born in, so I figured yours was too. Isn’t it?”
“It was, but once the horror of what I’d done crashed down on me I took…steps.” She looked away. “My powers and my heritage, which had once made me so proud, now stood for stupidity. Gullibility. Guilt. I was shocked how deeply and unthinkingly I’d embraced Rodolphe’s message, how blindly I’d followed him just because he was ‘one of us’.” She paused. “I sometimes wonder…would I have made the short, fatal step to assume that superior ability meant a superior right?”
“No. Sophia, you care too much. You empathize.”
“You have no proof.”
“Oh, but I do. It’s all in how a person treats small animals. You honored and respected King. You’re nothing like Rodolphe, and you never will be.”
Her heart made a lump in her throat. She swallowed, managed a hoarse, “Thanks.” A simple word for profound gratitude. Even though she’d admitted the worst, he still defended her. He was a natural protector to the end.
She backhanded her damp eyes. “At the time I wanted something more certain. I locked away my magic. A Head-Hands-Heart ritual.” She glossed over what she’d had to do to seal the locks.
“Noah, I smell mundane because I am.”
Chapter Ten
Noah reeled. First because Sophia was a witch, the thing he hated and feared most. But then because somehow her magic—magic that was born into her—was gone, and she wasn’t a witch anymore.
Yet of all the shit going down, the most important takeaway was that, unless he found some way to reverse his hex, he couldn’t protect her from Rodolphe.
And his pack, although somehow that had become an afterthought to her safety.
She stood to take out her phone. “I’d better get this over with.”
“I already called Mason.”
“Not Mason. The Witches’ Council. They’ll send Enforcers to deal with Rodolphe.”
After which, she’d leave. He put a hand on her wrist, stopping her. “Wait. Could we just take a quick five minutes to brainstorm? You’re mundane, but you studied magic, right? Maybe you can find an amulet or premixed spell to lift my hex.”
