Like now.
“I’m coming to get you both.”
What was it with men telling me what to do today?
“No, you’re not. We’ll be staying here.” Never mind that until she’d called him, she’d contemplated leaving herself. The fastest way to get Tabitha to do something was to push her in the opposite direction. He should have known better by now.
“Like hell you will! I’m taking you back to Carnarben. Those wolves couldn’t keep a sea monkey alive.”
Neither could he as a kid, but she wouldn’t point that out now.
“We’ve just set ourselves up, Ryan,” she said, firm in the face of his fury. “We need this, to get away from everything. Living with the memory of Nathan there… it’s just too much.” Her voice cracked on that last, but so what? He knew things had been rough the past few years.
The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening. She knew what he would be doing—pacing up and down the corridor, trying to plot a course of action—but waited him out anyway.
“Fine,” he grumbled, and she heard the distinct whump of his arse hitting a chair. She almost smiled at his defeat. “But if my search gets a hit, I’m down there with you in an instant. I’ve got leave owed, so no arguments.”
She wouldn’t argue that one anyway. It would be reassuring to have her bad-ass brother with her if things went south.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she said, smiling at the loud guffaw of disbelief that travelled along the line. “Ladies never argue.” The prim comment drew another chuckle.
“But witches definitely do.”
She laughed right along with him.
“Okay hun, I’ll call you tomorrow. Thanks for the help, and not saying, ‘I told you so’.”
He laughed. “I didn’t say it, but you know I was thinking it.”
He hung up before she could say anything else.
Shaking her head, she went to work. The emergency packs came out of the cupboard. Cash hidden under a loose floorboard was halved and secreted in each pack. Spare clothes for each of them went into both bags, along with the few ready-to-eat meals she’d bought from the camping shop when they arrived in town. Compact sleeping bags, torches, batteries, a solar charger; everything she’d need if they needed to run.
When she’d finished, Tabitha put one in the car’s boot, and kept the other next to her bed. It would come with her to work the next day, despite what anyone might say.
As Ryan said—she was reckless, but she wasn’t stupid.
If the going got tough, then Tabitha and Luna were heading right back to Carnarben.
Chapter 4
Finding the tourists wasn’t hard. The brand-new stench of their hunting gear and squeaky-clean rubber of their shoes surrounded them, giving Jarrad’s enforcers an obvious starting point in their search for the two men. It was a simple matter to follow their trail from the guns and ammo store to the real estate agency. Vicky didn’t need any persuading to share the address of the rental they’d hired for the season.
By the time Jarrad relieved his packmates of their watch, his wolf was jittery. Rolling under his skin.
Most city slicker hunters came out this way to chase wild boar, thinking it made them appear more manly. They brought the latest gadgets, green dogs with no idea how to hunt, and scared themselves into shooting anything that moved when they went out at night. They were allowed on only one property in the district, so they usually went home empty-handed after a few days. Jarrad’s wolves stayed at home until then.
These two were no different—the sparkling clean ute with the newly minted dog crate on the back was a dead give-away. As were the whimpers of the dogs tied up outside the house as Jarrad sauntered up the drive. His eyes glowed yellow in the moonlight and the mutts dropped to their bellies and displayed their throats.
Jarrad stopped to scratch them behind the ears, before stepping silently onto the porch. It wasn’t their fault their owners were idiots. The reek of stale sweat overrode the crisp scent of their new clothing. It wafted through the front door even before Jarrad slipped inside. Definitely idiots. You’d think they’d lock the door, even if they were in the country. Particularly after what they’d witnessed that morning.
“You send it yet, Jed?” The screech from the kitchen hammered his sensitive ears.
“It’s still uploading. Shouldn’t be long though,” Jed replied.
Jarrad thought back on the information Vicky shared. Jed Smith and… Keith. Keith Richards.
“How much did you say they were going to—”
Keith exited the kitchen and came face to face with Jarrad, eyes blazing yellow. A low rumble started in his throat. These greedy fuckers were about to harm his mate.
“Hello, Keith,” Jarrad snarled, fangs extended.
A sharp, ammonic scent drifted towards him. Even as he watched, a wet stain seeped down the inner seam of the man’s camo pants.
The coward pissed himself.
“How did you…?”
“Find you? You weren’t exactly hiding. Now—” With lightning speed, Jarrad had him by the throat against the wall. “What was it you said about being paid for the footage?”
The man’s mouth flapped like a fish gasping for breath on land. Jarrad eased the pressure enough for him to speak.
“Don’t. Know. Who,” Keith croaked. “Jed’s. Contact.”
The man had nothing for him. It was the one in the other room who mattered. Tightening his hands around the man’s throat, Jarrad loosened his grip when the man passed out. Keith landed with a thump in echoing silence.
No clicking of keys on a keyboard. No music blaring through earphones. Nothing.
His wolf howled inside at Jarrad for leaving the man alive, even as he moved on silent feet towards the room where the barest whisper of breath indicated the other man still lay in wait. Jarrad hovered in the doorway, waiting. A creak of the floorboard to the left of the door was all it took to have him moving.
Amateurs.
Jarrad slammed open the door to a sharp squeal, then curses from the man hiding behind it. The rifle he’d pointed at the door hung limply in Jed’s left hand, while the right cradled a bleeding nose. Jarrad’s wolf went wild, the threat to his mate and the scent of blood combining to tip him over into a half-shift.
Muscles rolled beneath his skin, his gaze sharpened, and time seemed to freeze as claws emerged from his fingers, straight into the man’s shoulder. The rifle dropped from instantly nerveless fingers as Jed screamed in agony.
“Who did you send it to?” Jarrad growled around a mouth full of fang.
The man’s gaze flicked to the laptop still open on the coffee table. A cross framed by two bloody swords provided a backdrop to a ‘sent’ message notification. When he looked back at the Alpha, it was with fervent triumph.
“You’re too late. The Inquisition knows all about her now. They’ll be coming.”
Jarrad’s wolf could no longer be contained. With a howl that shook the window, his wolf burst through his skin, lunging at Jed’s throat.
It was a long time before the animal was satisfied the man was dead. Then it turned to the unconscious man in the hall.
Neither hunter would ever harm his mate again.
He stationed two of his wolves outside Tabitha’s house to watch for the Inquisition, though he didn’t think they’d arrive that night. After a quick stop at home to wash, Jarrad was about to check in on his mate when the phone rang.
“All good here, Jarrad.”
He almost sighed with relief at his Beta’s words. There was no one he’d trust more with his mate than Kyle. “I just took over from Lance. Sleep for a bit and you can sub me in the morning.” The fireman hesitated, then plunged on. “Did you stop the leak?”
“No,” Jarrad growled. “Not entirely. It’d run too much before I could plug it. Though it won’t be leaking again anytime soon.” And that’s what it meant to be Alpha—you protected your own, no matter the personal cost.
He could still smell the fear woven with the metallic aroma of blood. He’d killed people tonight, a fact that made his stomach turn, even though he’d known it was the only option. But worse was the fact that part of him enjoyed it. His wolf revelled in the hunt, yet the human despaired of the loss of human life. No one should have to be so torn between the two aspects of their nature. So Jarrad took it all on himself.
“Do you need me to send someone to clean it up?” Thank the Moon for his ever-practical Beta. He’d been so lost in his thoughts; it hadn’t occurred to him.
“Definitely. Send the techies in too. They’ll need to wipe that computer.”
“Will do. See you in the morning.”
Tomorrow was a new day. The first he’d have with his mate and her pup. Their pup, if she accepted him. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, spirit soaring. Finally, he had something to live for beyond duty. And there was no way the Inquisition would take that away from him.
Jarrad would show them what it meant to the pack’s enemy.
Chapter 5
She needed to wake Luna at eight thirty, giving her just fifteen minutes to eat and get ready. The Goddess knows how they did it, but Tabitha and Luna were both waiting when the paddy wagon pulled up to the house. Luna was nursing a freshly wrapped ankle, though anyone would have thought it broken by the performance she gave that morning.
“Cool!” breathed Luna, pain forgotten. “Can I ride in the back?”
“Only criminals ride in the back.”
Or drunks, Tabitha thought, but she kept that to herself. There may have been a time or two the paddy wagon in Carnarben had hauled her and Ryan home. The twins were hellions in their younger days.
“Wasn’t sure you ladies would be waiting for me this morning,” Jarrad said, opening the back door of the twin cab—not the rear door of the wagon, much to Luna’s disappointment. “Figured you’d probably sleep ‘til lunchtime at least.”
“Wish Mum would let me sleep ‘til lunchtime,” Luna muttered under her breath, forgetting entirely about the sensitive hearing of wolves.
Jarrad barked a laugh.
“My mum never let me sleep in either on a school day,” he commiserated. “Didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday, I’m Jarrad Forrester.” He held out his hand to Luna, and the little girl took it with absolute trust.
“I’m Luna,” she said, bouncing eagerly inside the vehicle. “Can we turn the sirens on?”
Tabitha shook her head. She definitely didn’t have a shy girl. Jarrad’s head was comically bobbing from left to right, hand at ninety degrees from his forehead.
“What are you looking for?” Luna asked, trying to follow his line of sight.
“Just looking for the bad guys.”
“Bad guys?”
“You asked me to put on the siren, so I thought there must have been some bad guys.”
It took her a moment to get it, then Luna rolled her eyes.
“That wasn’t funny,” she scowled at the man in uniform.
“I know,” he said, but he was still smiling.
It was infectious. Tabitha grinned, and so did Luna. The girl never could hold a grudge for more than a second.
“But we never play with the siren, or the lights. People know it means something important is happening and they need to get out of the way. Wouldn’t work as well if people thought we did it just for fun, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Luna nodded wisely. “Mum told me that wolf story. With the crying and stuff.”
“The boy who cried wolf?” Jarrad asked Tabitha, a twinkle in his eye.
“It’s a favourite,” she said wryly. “Though perhaps rather redundant in this town. I don’t think anyone would bat an eyelid if Luna raced up and down the street screaming wolf at the top of her lungs.”
Jarrad looked nervously at the little girl.
“It’s okay. She knew before yesterday, but yesterday just made her believe.”
“Yep,” Luna nodded. “Cole turns into a little wolf. He’s really cute and fluffy. Are you cute and fluffy too?”
Jarrad gave a pained wince and Tabitha struggled not to laugh.
“I wouldn’t tell any wolf they’re ‘cute and fluffy’, Luna, if I were you.”
He avoided the question so obviously that Tabitha didn’t bother holding back the guffaw. She’d bet he was cute and fluffy.
Their arrival at the school saved him from answering. Cole waited out the front, moving restlessly as he scanned each incoming car. She didn’t need three guesses to figure out who he waited for. Luna was bouncing in her seat, barely waiting for the car to stop before the seatbelt was off and she was at the boy’s side. She threw them a quick wave and then limped in theatrically with her new best friend, as though she hadn’t just grumbled about being woken too early.
“She’s never going to get a minute to herself again,” Jarrad chuckled.
He slid out of his own seat and opened her door before she could blink. Who said chivalry was dead? Tabitha blushed as she stepped out, nervous. A quick touch of her hand to his had those sparks travelling through her again, her heart lightening. Nope. It wasn’t her imagination playing tricks on her after the long day yesterday. Her magic really did love him, the elements weaving between them so fast the sparks were almost visible.
“I think she’s found herself a bodyguard,” Tabitha chuckled, though her mind wasn’t really on the conversation. All she’d been able to think about last night as she lay down to bed was that kiss. The fire of it. The passion. But mostly, that it felt like coming home.
And in many ways, that part made her nervous. If her suspicions were correct, then Jarrad… well, he wasn’t going away anytime soon. And she wasn’t sure if that thrilled her or scared her silly. Probably a little of both.
“You know Tabitha,” Jarrad began, “it’s a bit more complicated than that. Cole is…”
The man looked as nervous as she felt, the fingers of his left hand fidgeting with the thumb of his right.
The principal, Mr Cooper, chose that moment to flap out of the main building towards them, brown tweed suit freshly pressed as always. He may look like a large bird of prey, but the man was a wolf with the heart of a marshmallow. She’d pegged him the moment they’d met, and he’d only reinforced the opinion with every encounter thereafter.
“What are you doing here, Miss Bright?” The man’s feathers were ruffled. “I just saw your girl as well, trotting up the corridor with young Cole Fleet. You’re supposed to be at home recuperating. A substitute has your class. Now get back in that car and take a day to sort yourself out.” As he ran out of puff, he seemed to deflate, imaginary feathers settling around him.
“Mr Cooper,” Tabitha began, but got no further.
“Don’t you argue with me, young lady. I will not lose a valuable member of my staff to exhaustion so early in the term.”
A wry smile twitched at her lips. “I was about to say, ‘thank you’, not argue.” The man raised a sceptical eyebrow, then marched back the way he had come, without saying goodbye.
“Well, I guess you’re going back home.”
“I guess I am,” she said, feeling a little like a roo hit by a road train.
“I have some work to do at the station,” Jarrad said hesitantly. “But can I join you after lunch? We have a lot to talk about.”
She smiled. “I’d like that. Bring something to eat. There’s not much in the house.”
“Done.” He moved in closer and she could have sworn he was about to kiss her. She leaned, eager, yet her palms were sweaty with nerves. For a moment, his lips hovered above hers, then he seemed to collect himself, shooting her a wry grin.
“I’m regretting that promise I made you now.”
It took her a moment to realise he meant promising her she would ask for the next kiss. By the time she shook herself out of her daze, he was already in the car. No chance for Tabitha to steal one herself, though maybe this wasn’t the best location.
“
I’ll see you later,” he called through his open window. Then he drove off, and Tabitha was left standing there with a stupid grin on her face.
Shaking herself, she strode to her car. Tabitha had a lot to do, particularly if they stayed in Echo. A shiver of foreboding ran down her spine. Maybe she’d make a quick stop at the supermarket to pick up some supplies. Tabitha would need a whole arsenal of spells on hand to protect them from the Inquisition. She’d had a taste of freedom and she wasn’t giving it up.
No way this witch was running back to her cage.
The knock at the door came at a critical time.
“Door’s open,” Tabitha yelled, not daring to take her eyes off the potion on the cusp of boiling on her stove.
Glass bottles of various shapes filled the kitchen, though none were bigger than her palms. She’d cleared the store out of herb bottles and paper bags. She’d emptied each bottle into a carefully labelled bag, then spent the morning purifying the empty bottles—both physically and magically. Finally, she was at the point of crafting potions. And boy, did she have some nastiness to fill them with.
“Do I want to know what’s going into those bottles?” Jarrad asked, eyeing the mess warily.
“You can ask,” she replied, still looking at the potion steaming away.
Were those pinprick bubbles?
“But you may not like the answer.”
They were baby bubbles. She rushed the mixture to her prepared bottles. “Make yourself useful and stopper these as soon as I fill them. The longer the mix has contact with the air after completion, the more volatile it is.”
Jarrad just about vaulted the kitchen bench in his haste to help.
She whispered the words of the targeting spell as she poured. When the saucepan was emptied then cleaned, the filled bottles safely stoppered then stored on the top shelf of the pantry (she’d have to find a safer spot later), Tabitha turned to Jarrad.
“You always leave your door open for the Inquisition to pay a visit?” was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
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