Magic's Crown

by Sela Carsen

  Javi’s gentle touch had helped. Ever since her ex-fiance, Jonathan, had taken off for dumber pastures, Medina had slowly begun to crumble a little around the edges. It wasn’t that she was so terribly upset by Jonathan’s quest for the perfect bimbo, but it had been nice to have someone to talk to. The oversized leprechaun hadn’t been a great sounding board, but he was better than nothing. The silence was starting to close in on her when she went home.

  She didn’t even have Arthur anymore. The loving and protective American Staffordshire Terrier had been more than a companion to her for years and had long outlived a large dog’s natural lifespan. But Arthur had finally crossed his last bridge nearly a year ago. A few days later, Jonathan had decided he couldn’t lock down his “Kiss me, I’m Irish” appeal with just one woman.

  It was enough to drive anyone to the brink, but Medina had simply carried on with business as usual. It had taken less than a week to realize she was far more devastated by Arthur’s loss than Jonathan’s, but she’d covered the hurt with work.

  It was, however, possible she’d been a little snippier with people since then.

  The receptionist, Layla, was a bubbly, outgoing girl whose smile dimmed when Medina walked in to get ready for her first appointment. She sighed and faced the truth. She’d become a real bitch with everyone except Javi.

  She knew the former sergeant liked her—there was no missing that his smile got brighter when he saw her, and she’d grown accustomed to their quick morning chats when she drove into work—but she didn’t know what he saw in her.

  He’d never been anything but polite. When he’d introduced himself a month ago, he’d smiled and said, “You can call me Javi. Like the Mojave Desert.” Medina had tried to curb her snappishness around him as much as she could because… well, he made her smile, too. His easygoing nature and warm brown eyes were relaxing to be around, even if he also left her oddly restless, wanting things she hadn’t wanted for quite some time. She clenched her fingers again to remember the feel of him.

  He wasn’t absurdly tall, which she thought was nice. She didn’t get a crick in her neck looking up at him, and she thought if he held her, her head might fit right into his shoulder. He had gorgeous, dark eyes, and he’d never let his hair grow out of its military cut. And he was bronze at least all the way down to his belt buckle, as she’d seen one day when he was helping Katya’s husband, Danil, set some new fenceposts around the paddock with their shirts off. Ivory skinned Danil was a long, tall, elegant man, a contrast to Javi’s earthy, sturdy strength. She and Katya had stood on the porch, sipping iced tea and admiring the view.

  The fact of Javi’s missing leg barely registered. The different prosthetics he wore were simply a functional part of him. Watching him continue his jog this morning, she’d been paying far more attention to his muscles than his running blade.

  Keeping the memory of him close, Medina resolved to be nicer to people today. She smiled at Layla, whose eyes widened like an owl at midnight.

  Wow. She really had been awful if a smile surprised the poor girl like that. She kept her lips determinedly curved as she asked, “Who’s up first today?”

  “Mrs. Findley and Pugsley,” Layla finally stammered.

  Medina’s smile got a little stiffer. It was going to take more work than she’d thought to be pleasant. Mrs. Findley was one of her pickier clients, even though there was nothing wrong with her fat, mean Pug that a diet, more walks, and a muzzle wouldn’t fix.

  And so her morning went—puppy vaccinations, squeezing poodle glands, a skunked-up Lab, and a cranky, pregnant cat. There was a brief lull just before lunch, and she escaped into her office to tackle some of the ever-present mountain of paperwork. Just as she was trying to figure out the requisition process on a new drug, Layla knocked.

  “There’s a man here to see you. He doesn’t have an appointment or a pet, but he said it was personal.”

  Medina felt her muscles clench. “It’s not Jona—”

  “Oh no. Not him. Believe me, we’d let the dogs loose on him.” The girl smiled a little, and Medina returned the expression. There. Learning to be nice again wasn’t so bad.

  “Thank you. Is it Javier?”

  “The hot soldier?”

  “Airman, I think. He was in the Air Force.”

  “Hot either way. No, not him. This guy has kind of a Russian-sounding accent.” She leaned in close and whispered, “He’s kind of creeping me out. You want me to put him in an exam room?”

  “No. He can come in here.”

  Layla left, and Medina frowned before transferring one of the piles from her desk to the floor. A shadow crossed her door.

  The opposite of Javi in every way, this man was nearly spectral. Tall, scrawny, and unhealthily pallid, he hovered in the between space of the doorway like a spider lying in wait for its next rotting meal. Layla had warned her, but this man was beyond creepy. Though she wanted to shrink away, Medina forced herself to hold out her hand.

  He bowed instead, but not before she saw a spasm of revulsion cross his bony face. It seemed he didn’t wish to touch her, either.

  She wanted this guy out of her office as quickly as possible, so she cut to the chase. “I’m Dr. Medina Theron. How can I help you?”

  “Dr. Theron. Is that your real name?”

  His voice scraped against her skin like nails on glass, and she hid her shudder before raising a brow. “It’s no secret that I’m adopted. Is there something I can do for you, Mr…”

  She left the word hanging, and he filled it in.

  “Krovatik. Paul Krovatik of Volshev, Texas. And I think perhaps I can help you.”

  As much as she wanted to rush this visit along, she also didn’t want to show any sign of weakness or nervousness, so she simply waited for him to continue.

  “I come on a sad errand regarding your birth family. The last of your line is now deceased, but as her solicitor, I’ve been authorized to sign over a significant payment to you as the next of kin. I have prepared a portfolio about her, but as I said, she was the last of the Simyonov’s. This is all I have.” He placed a plain manila folder on the edge of her desk.

  Medina dropped back into her chair, unable to process all the information he’d given her. Her brain finally latched onto the most important thing. “My family? You knew my family?”

  He nodded. “Yes, rest their souls.”

  “Did they know about me?”

  “No. They thought you died with your parents. That’s why they never searched.” He leaned forward, and for a hideous moment, she thought he’d put his hand over hers in sympathy. Thankfully, he didn’t complete the gesture. Instead, he pulled a small, old-fashioned, glass vial out of his pocket and removed the tiny cork stopper. “You weren’t abandoned, Dr. Theron. They simply didn’t know you were still alive.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful that she hadn’t simply been an inconvenience to be rid of, or angry that no one had checked more closely. Her anger was a dim thing, though. Everything seemed a little dim in her office. Very soothing. “That’s… Thank you.” She wasn’t sure for what, exactly, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to say. It was nice.

  “I’ll gladly sign over the check now. All you have to do is put your signature here that you’re the last living relative of the Simyonov family, and our business will be concluded.”

  He put a paper and pen in front of her. What a nice man. She didn’t know what she’d been thinking when he walked in. He was very nice.

  She picked up the pen and smiled at it. What a nice pen. And the paper was so white. “Ooh, pretty paper.”

  “Very pretty. Sign here, please.”

  Medina wanted to do whatever he asked. He was so nice.

  A knock at her door startled her. Maybe it was someone else nice. “Come in,” she sang.

  The door burst open. That wasn’t nice. It was a little scary. But it was Javi, and she thought he was more than nice. He looked at her with those pretty, dark brown eyes and blinke
d. When he saw Mr. Krovatik, he looked angry. He growled. It didn’t sound nice, but it was really sexy.

  Now that the door was open and fresh air was flowing in, things started to look a little sharper. Not quite as nice. A breeze swirled around her, blowing away more of the air she realized was actually foul.

  Nice. Nobody thought everything was nice—sure as heck not her. Things could suck pretty hard, in fact. Mrs. Findley’s Pugsley was fat and mean. Her leprechaun ex-fiance had bailed on her for a series of tall, willowy, giggling blondes. A bonnacon had melted her truck.

  Javi still stood in the door growling, Lando echoing the sound at his heels, but he didn’t look the way he had this morning. He’d been hot and a little sweaty but still nice. Now it seemed as if he’d grown in bulk, with a feral look in eyes that held a piercing, golden glow. And he was sporting some impressive fangs in a face that was growing more wolf-like and less human by the second. He wasn’t so nice anymore, but as her head cleared of whatever Krovatik had let loose in her office, the less nice she felt herself.

  Medina came around her desk to stand with Javi, trapping Krovatik in her office. But he didn’t look nearly as concerned as he should have, being stuck with a werewolf in mid-shift and an angry veterinarian with access to large animal tranquilizers between him and freedom.

  The creepy man grinned, and she was shocked at the strength of the magic that had made her think he was anything other than nasty. “My card is on your desk, Dr. Theron. Call me when you’ve signed that paper.”

  With a flourish that made her think of a Vegas casino magic show, he vanished in a puff of reeking smoke.

  She and Javi backed out of her office, coughing and waving their hands in front of their faces to waft away the stink.

  “What the hell was that, Medina?” It was as close to yelling as she’d ever heard him.

  “I have no idea!” she hollered back. “Layla brought him back, and he said…” She ran her fingers over her gold necklace, a self-soothing habit she’d never been able to break. “He said he was bringing me what was left of my family fortune because they’re all dead.”

  “Wait. What? What happened?”

  His fur and fangs receded abruptly, and he was back to the Javi she knew. She realized what he was thinking when he pulled her into a frantic hug, tight and fierce. Medina wanted to get lost in it, but she had to reassure him.

  “Not the Therons. They’re all fine. This is about my birth family.” He looked puzzled, so she clarified. “I’m adopted.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “It’s okay. I love them. They’re amazing people, and they’re my real family.” She snorted a little. “Anyone who could still love me after living with me through high school deserves medals.”

  Javi hadn’t let her go, so she snuggled in and didn’t mind when he sniffed at her hair. She was so starved for affection, she reveled in it. He wasn’t just an available pair of bronzed and brawny arms, though. She’d seen him with the dogs he trained, as well as the prospective owners who required their own education about what they could expect from their therapy dogs. He was patient and strong and steady. And the care he showed the traumatized and wounded men and women who needed the animals was a humbling lesson in humanity.

  He grinned at her. “I’m sure you were a joy forever.”

  “I was a pain in the butt. I’m still not that easy to live with.”

  Javi just squeezed her a little tighter for a moment before his arms loosened. “So what about this other family?”

  “The Simyonov’s. I don’t even know where they’re from.”

  “Maybe it says in the paperwork.”

  He stepped away from her and she shivered in the sudden chill. “He wanted me to sign something and I have no idea what it was. I’m so glad you came in when you did.”

  They shuffled through the pages in the file until he held one up. “It’s a Texas birth certificate for a Natasha Simyonova.” He looked her over assessingly. “Yeah, I can see it. You’ve got a real Boris and Natasha thing going on.”

  She’d watched reruns of the 1960s cartoon he was referencing—a comic spoof on Soviet spies with tall, elegant Natasha and short, stubby Boris. “Except I’m the short one.”

  Javi chuckled, and some of the tension in the room lightened. “Also, no moustache. I’m just glad you’re okay. What kind of magic was he using?”

  “He opened a vial. I think it was more of a chemical—a potion, I suppose—than a spell. Suddenly, everything seemed awfully… nice.” She shuddered.

  “Not your style, huh?” He smirked and she shook a finger at him.

  “I’m polite, Javi. And I’m working hard at being kind. But I could do without that sort of mindless nice.”

  He caught her finger in one hand and cupped her face in the other before he leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering at the corner of her mouth. “You’re just right, Boris. I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

  It took everything Medina had not to tilt her head that extra inch and turn his almost-kiss into an actual kiss. Finally. But she was still shaken from her encounter and wasn’t sure she’d survive another emotional twist today. Instead, she smiled. “Seriously? You’re going to call me Boris now?”

  “Do you really want to be Natasha?” The question was a needle that slid under her skin. Even if you liked the person holding it, the jab still stung.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head a little. “I guess I’ll have to see who she is first.”

  Chapter Three

  The wolf that lived under Javi’s skin had slept since his injury. In a way, that bomb had taken half his life instead of just his lower leg. The part of him that shifted had no intention of limping through the woods, so it had refused to come out at all. It was only after he’d met Medina that the wolf began to stir with interest.

  So when the beast abruptly leapt to the forefront as he’d driven past the vet’s office, Javi had swerved into the parking lot and hit the ground running. Lando had followed him into the building and they’d scrabbled around corners until they got to her office.

  The stench of the magic that had greeted them when he’d slammed open the door made both the wolf and the dog snort and growl. Javi had lost more of the grip he’d had on his beast and felt it prickle though his skin and bones. He would die to keep her safe. He would kill.

  He knew that had been his wolf talking, but until the strange man had escaped in a lame stage magician’s flourish, his human half had not been in charge.

  Being near Medina calmed the wolf, but for the first time in years, Javi could feel the joy of the shift sizzling in his blood again. For now, he focused on Medina. He was definitely going to start calling her Boris. It made her smile and Javi would do anything to make her smile.

  “Come on. I’ll take you to lunch. Let’s go see if Mummy’s has borscht on the menu.”

  It was a terrible joke, but it worked. Her shoulders relaxed, and her adorable, sharp-edged face lit up.

  “I’m actually done with appointments for the day. I was heading out to Katya’s shelter after I finished up my paperwork.” She picked up the folder the man had left on her desk. “I’ll look at these later.”

  Javi held her visibly trembling hand, keeping her close as they walked the couple of blocks to the diner. The connection, such a small thing, kept his wolf alert and happy inside him.

  They grabbed a table inside, the air heavy with the scent of delicious food. Javi and Lando, who was now wearing his service vest, were regulars at Mummy’s, and Nikki, the waitress who always seemed to know which customers were supernatural and which weren’t, brought the big dog a bowl of water when she took their orders.

  “Hey Nikki,” he asked after she told them about the specials. “You guys serve borscht?”

  She snickered. “With as many Russians as we got in Nocturne Falls now, Jose might have to learn some new recipes.”

  Lacking beet soup, pierogi, or cabbage rolls, they made do with a couple
of delicious cheeseburgers. Lando didn’t go hungry either as pinches of burger and fries made their way to a plate Javi put down for him.

  “How long have you and Lando been together?” Medina asked.

  “He was retired about the same time I got out of the hospital, and we just clicked. He’s great around the dogs we train. We mostly start with puppies but work with the occasional rescue, as well. When new dogs come in, he’s like a role model.”

  Curled up in the shade of the table, Lando’s tail wagged slightly. He knew they were talking about him.

  Javi continued. “You want me to give you a ride out to Katya’s? I can drop you back at your office when we’re done.” Now that he’d finally gotten his lips on her skin, he was angling to spend as much time as he could with her.

  “How about if I give you a ride?” she countered. “I’ve got equipment in my truck I’m going to need for this visit.”

  “Sounds good.” A warm rush went through him at the agreement. They strolled back to the vet’s office, and though he knew she didn’t need his help, it felt good when she let him hand her up into the seat that perched so high his head would brush the ceiling if he tried sitting in it.

  “Does that thing even get any higher?” he asked.

  “Nope. It’s the reason I picked this model. Nothing else I tested adjusted enough for me.”

  Thankfully, the SUV had individual seats up front, so there was plenty of room when he let Lando jump in and find a spot on the rear bench before he climbed into the passenger side. He buckled up and waited, but when she didn’t crank the ignition, he turned to her.

  “Everything okay?”

  She was looking at him strangely. “You… didn’t want to drive?”

  “Do you want me to drive?” He was puzzled.

  “Not really.”