by Rae Rivers
“Ethan –”
His eyes narrowed. “I get that you’re secretive about your past and your time with Hazel.” She looked away, but his fingers caught her chin, bringing her back to him. “That’s okay. But you’re not alone. As long as you know that.”
She couldn’t speak, the words trapped in her throat, emotion rolling through her in ways she usually avoided. All she could do was nod.
He stayed that way for a moment longer, simply looking at her, stroking her hair, his eyes flashing with something she couldn’t quite define.
With a small smile, he withdrew. “My brothers are near,” he said, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat and looked away, searching the forest. “Let’s check on Mason and get the hell out of here. I hate this place.”
CHAPTER SIX
The sound of clashing sticks and steady breathing permeated the quiet morning air. The Bennett brothers’ daily training was in full swing. It was warm, the forest streaked with gentle rays of sunlight that filtered through the trees.
Ethan and Jenna circled each other, both using long sticks to either attack or defend in a whirl of swift, steady movements.
The dance was smooth, rapid, focused. Tainted with an underlying frustration that seemed to have upped a notch this morning. A result of circumstances or the fact that he’d followed her?
I came to check on Mason. Right.
He had no reason to doubt her, but instinct told him she hadn’t been entirely honest. There was more. To her excuse. To her. He knew that, but the woman kept a Great Wall of China between herself and everyone else and he wasn’t sure if he had the energy or the inclination to break through.
Because breaking through walls meant caring. And that stirred up heaps of crap he usually avoided.
She mirrored his movements perfectly, making it impossible for him to gain an inch of ground. She shielded his every blow, constantly engaging with an overbearing force that had him more on the defensive than offensive.
Adrenaline soared, their bodies sleeked in thin layers of sweat, and they fought on, breathless, determined, the practice session as thrilling as it was necessary.
Jenna used her stick to field his next hit, retaliating with one of her own. He moved, but not fast enough, the weapon connecting him on the shoulder with a powerful force, missing the side of his head by an inch.
“Whoa, Jenna!” He broke away, frowning at her as he rubbed his shoulder. “Rule of combat practice – attack the aggression, not the aggressor.”
“You should be defending your red zone, Ethan. You left yourself wide open.” She poked his chest with the stick.
His hand shot up, clutching her weapon. Grinning, he gave a hard tug, taking pleasure in the way she launched forward.
In a swift movement, he had her pinned beneath him, the stick at her throat.
He raised a brow. “Wide open?”
With a loud grunt, her knee jerked upward, dislodging his hold on her. She was on her feet in a flash, smiling. Panting, she backed off, lowering her weapon, but sprang into action the moment Ethan’s brother, Declan, pounced.
Stick raised, she swung around and ducked as Declan charged. He wielded his own stick, bulldozing full steam ahead with his surprise attack.
Their fight was swift, their bodies moving between the trees with breathless pace.
“Wow, Declan, frustrated much?” Jenna moved around him in a steady flow of fancy footwork, easily defending his blows with her own.
“Scared of some friendly banter, Blondie?”
She lowered her body, ducking his next attack, smiling with satisfaction when her stick connected with his legs. She pulled back, circling him, a mild grin breaking free. “Is that what this is? Friendly?”
“Of course.”
“Right.”
They stood staring at each other, breathlessly assessing the distance and range of the weapons between them.
Simultaneously, they charged.
Sticks clashed, louder and with added hostility as they performed a perfect mirroring drill, anticipating each other’s moves with ease.
Ethan glanced at Archer, watching the tussle quietly, arms folded across his chest. His oldest brother exerted a permanent control and calm that Declan lacked. They were so different in so many ways.
Declan lunged for Jenna, releasing a growl of frustration. Ethan frowned at the scent of aggression that lined their fight – a fight born out of need for building strength and endurance.
But this was different.
Archer’s expression tightened and the slight narrowing of his eyes hinted that he sensed it too.
Declan stepped back, twisted his stick, and charged. In a blur of speed, Jenna took a running leap. Anticipating her move, he joined her, sailing through the air with ease.
Their collision was loud, powerful, their sticks clattering on impact. They were still fighting as they fell, their landing less skilled. They parted, straightened their sticks, and stared at each other, frustration sizzling between them.
Jenna glared at him, her jaw clenched, her shoulders rising and falling in breathy gasps of air. With a soft curse, she lowered her weapon, shaking her head.
“Had enough?” Declan goaded as she turned around.
Ignoring him, she walked away, but drew to an abrupt stop as a single line of fire reared to life in front of her. She spun around to face Declan, her mouth opening in surprise.
Another line of fire roared to life in front of her, cutting her off. She slammed her stick on the ground. “Dammit, Declan! Cut that out!”
The line of fire chased around her, closing in. Realising she was about to be imprisoned, she bolted for the remaining gap between the blaze, cursing when Declan added more heat, more energy. The circle closed before she reached it, flames rearing up with a force that had her backing to the centre of the circle.
The sound of fire crackled around her, the flames almost at shoulder height.
“Something wrong?” Declan called out, his voice laced with mild amusement. “Come on, Blondie. Can’t fight your way out of this?”
“You’re being a dick, Declan.”
“We’re at war. You need to be prepared.”
“You’re questioning my combat skills?”
“It’s not your combat skills in question. Hell, even I’ll admit that your moves are impressive.”
Surprise etched her expression at the admission.
“But you refuse to use your elemental powers,” he added. “That makes you weak.”
Her nostrils flared and she tilted her chin upward. “Tossing around a few fireballs won’t necessarily win our war.”
Declan’s lips curled at the dig, but he let it slide. “Afraid of your powers, Jenna?”
“No.”
The flames flared higher. “So show me.”
“Screw you, Declan. I don’t have to prove anything to you.”
“I beg to differ. You protect the hybrid witch our enemies are after. They reach her and the balance of nature is screwed.”
“Yes, but the balance has nothing to do with this. With us.” She waved a finger between them. “I protect the woman you love, so for you it’s personal.”
“What are we? Fifteen?”
“I get that being an overprotective ass is your default setting, but Kate is my witch and I will die before letting anything happen to her, just as you would for Sienna.”
Declan scowled at her, the muscles on either side of his jaw twitching.
“You think I don’t know what I’m up against protecting Kate?” Jenna said, her tone clipped with irritation. “I live with a permanent sense of dread, knowing what’s at stake if I fail, and I don’t need you constantly pushing me, taunting me, and giving me crap every day trying to prove that I’m worthy. We’re supposed to be on the same team, dammit!”
“Because you’re all about teamwork, aren’t you, Blondie?”
“When it comes to protecting Kate and Sienna, I am.”
“I can’t be on team y
ou until I can trust you can handle this.”
“Rather unfortunate considering Hazel’s showing presence again. And don’t for one moment think she won’t sniff out a divide between us.”
“As easily as she’ll sniff out a weakness.”
“I’m not weak!”
He raised a brow and pegged her with a challenging glare. The fire reared higher, the crackling muffling her soft curse.
“Declan,” Archer said, stepping forward. “That’s enough.”
“No.” Ethan took his arm. “Leave them.”
Archer frowned. “She’s right, Declan’s being an ass.”
“I think she’s had her fair share of dealing with asses. She can handle this one too.”
Archer paused and glanced at Jenna. A moment later, his pensive expression relaxed and he gave a single nod.
Silence engulfed them, the air sizzling with tension.
It was Declan who broke their standoff. Flames still burning, he swore loudly and shook his head. Turning around, he walked away.
A warlike cry shattered the silence as Jenna launched through the air, breaking through the blaze. She collided with Declan and exploded into a series of martial arts manoeuvres that triggered another fight.
This time, there was more rage, more determination, and they moved so swiftly that it was near impossible to follow them.
Declan fought back with a viciousness that matched hers, but something in his eyes gave him away.
She’d surprised him.
Ethan grinned.
In the end, Jenna creamed his brother in a swift pace that had them gaping at her. Declan was a skilled a fighter as any, but Jenna possessed a natural fighting skill that topped his. In battle mode, the woman was damn near faultless.
Ethan caught Archer’s gaze, not missing the flash of satisfaction in his brother’s narrowed one.
Delivering a final, vicious kick that connected with Declan’s nose, Jenna backed off. Declan cursed as blood splattered and he glowered at his opponent. They were both breathless, bloody, bruised. A fierce silence followed and Jenna circled the warrior, fists up, ready for his retaliation.
Which never came.
Instead, Declan lowered his fists and spat out blood. Breathing heavily, his gazed locked with Jenna’s. “It’s not quite the display of magic I’d hoped for, but …”
“You’d be a fool to underestimate me again, Declan.” A smirk softened her anger. “Kicking your butt just proved that.”
Declan swiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips twitching.
Ethan’s grin widened. She’d impressed Declan and he wasn’t easily impressed – or surprised. In a matter of moments, she’d accomplished both.
Damn right.
Jenna lowered her stick. “You have a right to be worried, Declan. We’re all worried. But you’re forgetting one thing. You’ve met Hazel twice. Twice. I lived with her and her merry band of evil for two years. I know what we’re facing more than you will ever know, so choosing not to be on team me is … stupid.”
With a final glare, she turned around and left.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The opening of the restaurant coincided with the school’s annual parade, one of the town’s many traditions. Each summer, the high school seniors hosted the parade, an event that had grown so popular over the years that it attracted tourists from all over.
The main road hummed with activity, the restaurants crammed with visitors. The aroma of fried donuts filtered through the air, sweet and enticing. Children ran between the crowds of people that walked the streets, lined with vendors selling homemade crafts or fresh produce. Others lay sprawled on picnic blankets in the central garden. Their laughter and voices mingled with the music played by the band.
The celebrations for Ethan’s restaurant opening were in full swing. A joyous occasion that did little to shred Jenna’s uneasiness.
Darkness was near. She could feel it.
They all could, but in a world where their kind lived in secret and social obligations like restaurant openings and festivals couldn’t be avoided, events that surrounded them with friends determined to celebrate, they had no choice but to mask the worry and pretend that Rapid Falls was the perky, safe little town everyone thought it was.
What a load of crock.
Jenna scanned the street again before going into the restaurant. She slid into an empty seat at the end of the bar and eyed the bottles of alcohol against the wall, longing for the oblivion the clear liquid promised. But no. She hadn’t eaten much and needed a clear head.
They’d packed the restaurant to capacity, a steady flow of people coming and going. The aromas of garlic and herbs spiced the air, a contrast to the sweet scent on the street.
The restaurant had been refurbished with a contemporary feel, but the wooden floors, brick walls, and lighting gave it a warm edge.
Sarah’s.
An apt name for the restaurant and a brilliant way to honour an amazing woman.
A loud rumble of thunder reverberated above them, followed by Ethan’s laugh, which drifted across the room. Two women were draped around him at the far end of the bar. One distributed shots of Tequila.
Mr. Popular himself. Always the first of the brothers the women flocked to – even more so now that Archer and Declan were no longer single. Beneath his easy-going personality were layers of a mysterious, quiet confidence the women adored.
Jenna wondered how many of them actually made it back to his bed. She knew he avoided a relationship the same way he avoided asparagus. Didn’t like it, wouldn’t try it. His encounters were brief and fun.
Hell, the thought of Ethan doing a naked monkey dance with any of these women added a spark of annoyance straight to her gut.
And she refused to decode why. Nope.
He’d shaved, the subtle scent of his aftershave knocking at her senses every time he came close. He wore a white shirt and blue jeans, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Black leather bracelets covered each wrist, along with his Keeper ring on his finger. Despite everything, he looked relaxed. Happy.
She envied the way he was able to flip the switch that instantly turned off the worry in front of others. A perfect mask. If she hadn’t known better, known him …
Almost as though he sensed her quiet scrutiny, he turned, his gaze connecting with hers across the room.
Jenna’s stomach flipped in response and she began toying with the box of matches on the counter. It had the name Sarah’s scrawled on one side.
Ethan downed another shot, disentangled himself from the women – despite their protests – and joined her at the opposite end of the bar.
Pocketing the matches, she lifted a brow. “Needing a break from their flattery?”
“Trust me, flattery was too mild a word for what that was.” He slid into the vacant seat beside her, giving an exaggerated shudder that made her laugh.
“Too much for you to handle?”
“No. I can handle them. But I don’t want to. Besides, they’re both married.”
“They are?”
“I have no idea where their husbands are tonight, but I got a taste of what it feels like to be a burger and beer at a health clinic.”
She laughed and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “How’s it going in there?”
“There were a few hiccups and I’m in need of a new pastry chef, but overall the opening’s been a hit.” He scanned the full restaurant. “Sarah would be proud.”
“We should drink to her.”
He leaned forward, a teasing grin easing his expression. “And I believe I owe you a beer.”
She smiled. “Shirtless?”
“I’ve never backed down from a bet,” he said, fiddling with the top button of his shirt.
Something niggled inside, a mild objection at the thought of his beautiful body on display to everyone here. “Really?”
“It’s my restaurant. My party.”
“And it’s my win, right?”
�
��Which is why I’m about to lose my shirt in a full restaurant.”
Niggle, niggle.
“No,” she said softly, covering his hand with hers, surprising herself.
Electric-blue eyes found hers. A small grin hitched the corner of his lips, triggering a familiar stirring in her belly. “You’re backing out?”
“It’s my win, so I say keep the shirt. The women here don’t need the distraction.”
Leaning closer, he brushed his lips against her ear. “They don’t or you don’t?” When she inhaled sharply and pushed him away, he chuckled and walked around the bar. “I still owe you that beer.”
“If I’m letting you off the hook, stud muffin, you owe me several.”
“You’re relinquishing your win?”
“Only the shirt. The rest of our deal still stands.” But something about his expression told her he already knew that.
He leaned forward, his elbows on the counter. “You insist that searching for Hazel alone is dangerous. How’s that different from your midnight cruises?”
“Because I wasn’t searching for Hazel.”
“So why the sneaking out at night?”
“Why are you keeping tabs on me?”
“Answer my question.”
Sighing, Jenna looked away. “I’ve been struggling to sleep.”
“Bad dreams?”
An understatement. Bad dreams had plagued her for years – fragments of the night she’d lost her family and the time she’d spent with Hazel. Lately, her dreams had escalated to horrific nightmares, so vivid and real that she dreaded going to sleep. Broken images of screaming women tied to each other, locked in a burning building as a group of people stood by and watched.
Jenna knew the nightmares were about the witch massacre that had occurred many years ago, when a group of witches had exposed their magic to a few ordinary folk in hope of living in harmony. The backlash had been tragic. Whilst their Keepers had stood by and watched, dozens of witches were rounded up and burned, proving how essential it was to keep the existence of their kind a secret.
Something they still fought for, everything their enemies despised. As for the Keepers who’d betrayed their witches …
“What are the dreams about?” he asked, the soft words spearing her thoughts.