by Ivy Asher
Someone pounds against the door, and I break away from the hopeful kiss Bastien gives me, my head snapping in the direction of the door. What the hell? I walk over and fling it open just as Enoch’s hand goes up to pound on it again. He looks me over quickly.
“Sorry to wake you up, but is Pebble in here with you? He missed his check-in this morning, and his coven is here to see what’s going on.”
Enoch clenches his jaw, and I take in his tense body language and tightening fists.
“No, I haven’t seen him since last night. What do you mean he missed his check-in?”
“He’s here on assignment, Vinna. His whole coven has been tasked with your protection, but he’s acting as lead. He hasn’t checked-in since yesterday morning.”
The doorknob I’m still holding onto gets pulled from my grasp when Bastien yanks the door all the way open.
“You’re telling me she has a whole coven of fucking paladin for protection, and a lamia still got through to her last night?”
I elbow Bastien hard in the ribs, and he gives a satisfying pained umph. Fucking hothead. He really needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.
“What the hell is he talking about, Vinna? And what the hell are you even doing here, Fierro?”
“I’m her fucking mate! That’s what I’m doing here, and it’s a good thing I am because the security around here is a joke. No alarms. No barriers. Are you guys trying to get her killed or taken again? Is this joke of a secure setup intentional, or are you guys just that incompetent?”
“Watch your mouth asshole! Who the fuck do you think you are inserting yourself—”
I tune out the rest of Enoch’s indignant shouting and step out of the line of testosterone-fueled fire. I grab some leggings and pull them on and slip on a bra under my t-shirt. I swipe my phone off the side table, and open Mave’s contact as the yelling and threats escalate to a louder decibel behind me.
Me: Tell Pebble he needs to get back here ASAP.
My phone dings with an incoming text seconds later.
Mave: He left twenty minutes ago. Hang soon to talk shit and rehash dirty details?
Me: You know it.
I don’t have Pebble’s number, so I have no way to give him a heads-up, but if he’s missed his regular check-in, he has to know he’s going to be walking into a shitstorm. I walk back over to the doorway where Bastien and Enoch are chest to chest, one practically daring the other to throw the first punch. I pinch Bastien’s ass as I squeeze my way past them out into the hallway where the rest of Enoch’s coven are standing by.
The fact that they’re just standing by lending silent support, but not ganging up on Bastien, raises my respect level for all of them. I give a two-finger salute to the group, walking past them and out into the living room where Pebble’s coven waits. They’re on edge, which makes sense given the missed check-in. The yelling down the hallway sure as hell isn’t helping things, but clearly, Bastien and Enoch have some shit they need to sort out, so it is what it is.
“You guys want anything to drink or eat?” I ask, the group of seven paladin all standing awkwardly in the living room.
They stare at me like I just said something in another language.
“Suit yourselves.” I shrug, and turn toward the kitchen. “Pebble will be back soon. We ran into a couple lamia earlier this morning, and he chased them off. We were near Silas pack territory when it happened, and he was just there giving them a heads-up.”
Pebble’s coven all tense up at my explanation, and I’m grateful as fuck that they’re not shifters and can’t smell the dose of lies I’m feeding them. If it were just Pebble involved here I’d probably let him face off against the firing squad on his own, but my cover-up is for Mave. She explained before that her Alpha--Trent Silas--worked with the caster elders council. I don’t want any trouble there for him, because of whatever happened between Mave and Pebble. I also don’t want to take away Mave’s new toy, not when she just started playing with him.
I pour a bowl of cereal and lean against a wall in the living room to eat. The yelling coming from the hallway has quieted, but I don’t hear any telltale signs of fighting, so I take that as a good sign.
“Why didn’t Paladin Rock call us to say he needed backup?” a gruff voice, belonging to an even gruffer looking man, asks.
“You’d have to ask him,” I offer unhelpfully, as I shovel another bite of cereal in my mouth.
Fuck, I miss the sisters.
“Why didn’t you call us and tell us what happened?” A lanky paladin queries, as he leans back against the arm of the sofa.
“Up until five minutes ago, I didn’t know you existed. And before you go asking me why I didn’t immediately alert Nash, Enoch, Kallan, or Becket, the answer is because I can take care of myself and there wasn’t shit any of them could do at that point.”
I crunch down on another mouthful of cereal and stare at the door, willing Pebble to walk through it. Hopefully, he’ll be smart enough to catch on quickly and just play along. Kallan, Becket, Nash, Enoch, and Bastien all file out of the hallway. Bastien still looks pissed and judging by the look Enoch’s wearing, they didn’t quite sort out their issues. Bastien walks over to me and redirects a bite of cereal headed for my mouth, into his instead.
“You’re lucky you’re so hot, ya thief.”
I glare at him playfully, and his scowl morphs into a teasing grin. He swallows his bite and gives me a quick peck before he steals more of my cereal. I turn my back on him to guard the rest of my breakfast, hissing at him like a cat.
“The sisters make your every meal, and you’re going to rob me of my Captain Crunch? You’re not the man I thought you were.”
Bastien chuckles and tweaks my nose. “That’s because I’m a caster, baby.”
The front door swings open, and Pebble walks in. He doesn’t seem shocked to see the large group that’s waiting for his arrival. I step forward and Pebbles eyes land on me.
“Did the pack catch the lamia?” I ask casually, while I try not to be too obvious with the play along look I’m giving him.
He pauses for a beat. “No. The trail led out of town. They stopped tracking at the boundary.”
Well, at least he’s aware that there was a lamia issue last night. Hopefully, he can use that info to pull himself out of the hole he’s dug.
“Why didn’t you call for help?” The gruff paladin from Pebble’s coven asks, his eyes laced with suspicion.
“My phone was dead.”
The room grows quiet and stuffy with unspoken doubt.
“We’d like to have a word with Paladin Rock outside,” another paladin announces, his eyes trained on Enoch, but his words and suspicion aimed at Pebble.
Enoch gives a nod and Pebble and his grumpy coven all file outside slamming the door behind them.
Nash steps forward looking confused. “What the fuck is going on, Vinna? What happened last night?”
“You’ll have to talk to Pebble about what happened with him. But I hung out with a friend and ran into some lamia, and that’s that.”
“Oh, that’s that? I just ran into some supes who belong to a race that tried to abduct me a week ago, but hey, no biggie,” Kallan blows on his nails and wipes them on his chest with mock indifference. “I mean, who cares that they’re not even supposed to be able to get through the town barrier right now, but it’s all good, guys.”
I glare at Kallan, not at all amused by his high-pitched impersonation of me.
“Fuck, I need to call my dad and let him know there was a breach. You need to go.”
Enoch gestures to Bastien with one hand, while the other pulls his phone from his pocket.
“He can stay however long he wants,” I defend, finishing off the last of my cereal.
“It’s fine, Bruiser; I should go let the guys in on what’s up anyway.”
“Fine,” I grumble, already not looking forward to his absence.
I’m so much more comfortable when one or all of my guys are around. I hate feeling li
ke a guest and tiptoeing around this house because I don’t belong here. Outside of my Chosen, I don’t trust anyone’s motivations, and I hate needing to be on guard all the time. It’s fucking exhausting. I follow Bastien over to the door like a puppy that doesn’t want its owner to leave. He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and cups my cheek.
“Don’t look so sad, Bruiser. You’re killing me. We can hang later. And don’t worry, this will all be over soon.”
I nod. Bastien leans down and kisses me. His hands slip to cup my ass, and the kiss morphs into something that ranks between fuck me now and bye dear. I’m completely aware that Bastien is embracing his inner caveman and enjoying the show he’s putting on as much as he’s enjoying me right now. He’s thoroughly marking his territory, and I like it. I start to chuckle at the glint in his eyes as we pull apart. He throws me a shit-eating grin and turns to open the door.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Bastien calls over his shoulder. "Knox told me to tell you that he's picking you up tonight for a thing at his family’s coven house."
With that, Bastien leaves. I catch a glance of Pebble and his coven still locked in a heated discussion outside before the door closes, once again shutting them, and their conversation, away. I'm once again left on my own to deal with Enoch and his coven, none of which look too pleased by everything that just went down.
Enoch’s phone rings and he answers it without taking his eyes off me. I’m not really sure what to say to any of them at this point, so I walk past their impersonations of tourists at a zoo viewing some kind of caged wild animal and head toward the kitchen to clean my now-empty cereal bowl. My skin prickles from the eyes I can feel tracking me at my back.
“We’re supposed to start tutoring you on magic use today. Caster Sawyer explained that with your ability to mimic, we mostly need to show you what’s magically possible with each branch. Once you see it, you should then be able to replicate it.”
My eyes narrow at Becket’s mention of Marilyn Manson’s real name. But my irritation at having to think about that asshole dissipates with the plan to train my magic. I turn around to find that Kallan, Becket, and Nash have followed me into the kitchen, all eyes still uncomfortably trained on me. I narrow my gaze at them.
“Sounds good. But consider yourselves warned. If any of you try to pull what the elders and that asshole did the other day, I’ll fucking kill you. I don’t care who you’re connected to. I am done with being attacked. You either have my back, or you don’t.”
“We have your back. You can trust us.”
Enoch walks in from the living room, his eyes intense. His declaration hanging in the air amid the nods of confirmation from the rest of his coven. I release a deep breath. Looks like it’s time to see if that’s true.
19
I stare at my reflection critically one last time, wondering again if I should change. I initially thought a dress was the right thing to wear to meet the parents of the caster you've claimed and permanently marked as your own for time and all eternity. Then, I thought maybe that looked like I was trying too hard, so I changed into jeans and a t-shirt, but that made me seem like I didn't give any fucks at all. So I now stand here in dark jeans, a white fitted tank, and a lavender kimono style cardigan that I've layered on top of it.
I twist from side to side, watching myself in the full-length mirror, trying to take in all angles of my outfit. The almost sheer cardigan is a heather-gray and has large maroon and white blooms on it. I'm hoping it says fun, loving, and sorry I marked your son and unknowingly forced him into a relationship with me.
Fuck! I've never put this much thought into anything I've worn before.
I run my fingers through my loose curls, smooth down my middle part and huff out a sigh. By the stars, I hope they don't hate me. I don't know why that's the direction my mind automatically takes me when I think about meeting any of the guys’ family. Maybe it has something to do with the less-than-stellar response I've gotten from anyone claiming to be my family, but I've spent the whole time I’ve been getting ready convincing myself that if their families hate me, somehow we'll figure out a way to survive it.
Deep down in my gut, I don't believe a word of my delusional reassurances, but I keep repeating them to myself anyway. Maybe if I say it enough, put it out there in the world, it just might come true. I look outside to the annoyingly cheerful blue sky— where's a star to wish on when you need one?
I can just see the weird arena that’s in the backyard and the sight of it triggers memories of the shitshow that was my first magic tutorial.
“Vinna, you’re not even trying. Enoch, show her again,” Becket insists.
Enoch huffs out a resigned sigh and once again focuses on a patch of sand just to the left of me. It slowly begins to churn, circling around until a tiny whirlpool occurs. Then the sand lifts up off the ground and becomes a cyclone. Above my head ominous, smoke colored storm clouds form and out of nowhere a bolt of lightning strikes the center of the sand tornado, which then immediately crumbles to the ground.
Sweet Home Alabama fucking lied because there is no pretty glass structure left in the wake of the kissing lightning and sand, and I once again feel ripped off, even though this is like the sixtieth time I’ve witnessed this magical trick.
“Okay, now you try it,” Becket instructs, and for the sixty-first time today, I focus on my well of magic and call to my Elemental power. The kelly green slippery strand puts up a fuss, but eventually, I get an imaginary white-knuckled hold on it. I show it the sand tornado that I want, not even bothering with the extra pressure of the lightning show. I release the magic so it can go be one with the epic sand cyclone I just commanded it to make, but once again all that happens is a tiny little cone of sand forms in the most pathetic and painfully slow way.
Fuck, I’d take an epic sand castle at this point, but no, I once again get the fucking cone of shame. Finicky damn magic.
Becket and Kallan groan their disapproval, and Enoch throws his hands up in the air in frustration. Nash gives me a sympathetic smile, which only makes me want to kick him in the balls. I don’t need sympathy; I need to figure out why my magic hates me and thinks it’s hilarious to make me look like a raging idiot.
“They said if you see it then you should be able to do it, so what is the disconnect? Are you just not into this, or what is the problem?” Kallan demands.
“Do I have white hair?” I ask, lifting a wayward dark strand that’s escaped my messy bun. “Are my eyes suddenly glowing white and I’m just not aware of it?”
Kallan shakes his head no, confusion flooding his features.
“That’s right, because I’m not Storm or some fucking X-man. I don’t know how to make sand tornados and shoot lightning bolts from my ass!”
Kallan rolls his eyes, and Enoch throws his hands out challengingly. “Oh that’s right, ass-knives are more your style.”
“I’ll take my ass-knives over your wannabe Zeus light show any day of the week.”
We both take a threatening step toward each other before Nash rushes in between us and tells us both to cool off. Keeping things mature, I flip Enoch off as I walk away, abandoning the magic lesson that’s not going anywhere, and head back into the house.
“We’re not done with this, Vinna. You have to keep at it until you figure it out,” Enoch shouts at my back.
“Go sit on a lightning rod,” I shout over my shoulder, as I slide open the glass door that leads back into the house and disappear through it.
I shake myself out of the memory and smooth down my cardigan. The doorbell rings and the sound works like a defibrillator that’s just sent an electrical current straight through my heart, which makes the beat into a worrying frenzy. I quickly apply lip gloss, throw the tube into my bag, and make my way out of the room to the front door. I round the corner just as Nash opens the too big door and then proceeds to frown at my Chosen on the other side. Knox gives me a huge smile, and I find the happiness that’s radiating from it contagious.
/> Momentarily, the worry that’s riding me falls away, and excitement takes its place as I walk towards Knox in the doorway. He gives me a purposeful and appraising sweep of his eyes, and when they meet mine again I see the want there, and I can’t help but grin. With Knox, there has never been a single moment where I haven’t felt wanted and devourable.
"Hello beautiful!" he coos at me, as I reach him.
He snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me into him, placing a soft and appreciative kiss on my lips. It's the kind of kiss that steals a little of my lip gloss but doesn't smear it all over my face, which impresses me and makes me give him an approving eyebrow raise and nod as his delicious lips pull away from mine. A light glossy sheen now accentuates his plump lips, and I chuckle at the thought of leaving it there, unbeknownst to him.
I try to keep my smile from giving me away as I picture this beefy jock of a male walking around looking like he’s dipping a toe, or his lips rather, in the metro pool and flirting with a glossy feminine side.
Out of nowhere, the image of an apron-clad woman slapping a rolling pin into her open palm while glaring at me flashes through my head. I cringe at the mental image of Knox’s disapproving mom and quickly reach up and wipe away the residue of clear gloss. Knox doesn’t acknowledge his makeup wearing or the sheepish look that sits on my face as I try to tell the grumpy mental image of Knox’s mom sorry.
"You ready to go, gorgeous?" he asks, not bothered or worried in the slightest about introducing me to his family.
I really shouldn’t be surprised by his casual tone and no big deal attitude. It seems to take a lot to ruffle his feathers. His rolling-with-the-punches-down-for-anything crown sits firmly on his handsome head, and he keeps his arm around me as he leads me out of the house. We pass Nash who’s standing there in all his grumpy glory, the disapproval rolling off him in waves. I can’t be bothered to sort out whatever has crawled up his ass, so I give him a wave as I leave and then brush all thoughts of him and his coven out of my mind as I make my way to the white Range Rover parked in the circular driveway.