Tabitha ground her teeth together, not willing to start a fight before she’d even had the chance to talk to him. Even if it seemed he was.
“I figured if the Inquisition made it past my wards, the contents of that pot were enough to burn an army out of existence.”
Jarrad’s eyes widened as he took a step away from the pantry. It was ridiculously gratifying to see the bossy male wary of her work.
“Don’t worry, you’d have to smash the bottle to activate it. The effects are very localised. It’s been targeted to anyone meaning harm to the bearer. Even if they all dropped, the worst that would happen would be a small fire, easily put out.”
“I thought witches had an affinity with one element,” Jarrad said, curiosity overcoming wariness. “But I’ve seen you wield water and now potion making with fire.”
“Most of us can weave small amounts of all elements. You’re right about us having an affinity for one, but potion work is the best way to harness elements not our own.”
“So I guess the kids were lucky your element was water.”
Her major element, yes, but she was strong enough to manipulate the others without spells, too. She didn’t tell him that though.
“They were lucky. I was lucky.”
The heat and fear of the fire chased her through the day. It terrified her how close she’d come to losing everything. Tabitha had been convinced Luna had already been swallowed by the inferno. Tears pricked at her eyes. She tossed her head back and blinked them away before the waterworks started.
Jarrad shifted uncomfortably on the bench stool he’d appropriated. His fingers twitched, as though wrestling with his head to get him to touch. She almost smiled.
“I’d say I’m sorry for bringing it up, but that’s part of what I have to talk to you about.”
Her heart dropped. He’d heard something about the Inquisition. She could feel it in her bones.
“Best pull the band-aid off quickly then,” she said, bracing herself.
He hesitated. “Some out-of-town hunters filmed the incident. Took pictures. One of them had links to the Inquisition.”
On some level she’d known. Her gut told her something was wrong, but she’d refused to listen. She’d even heard the telltale click of a camera herself, though she’d convinced herself it was a local and Jarrad would handle it.
Tabitha didn’t bother with questions. She went straight for the hall cupboard and the emergency bags. Jarrad followed.
“What are you doing?” His voice rumbled low with anxiety, his wolf close to the surface.
Tabitha didn’t have time for his wolf shit. The Inquisition was on its way and she had to get Tabitha to safety. Anger stirred in her belly.
“I’m getting out of here, that’s what,” she snarled. “I would have left this morning if I’d known, except now I’ve wasted a day. We could be safely in Carnarben already.” Tabitha should have known better than to trust a wolf.
She grabbed a few bottles of the potion from the pantry, all that would fit in the side pocket of her bag.
“Tabitha, wait!” Jarrad was suddenly in front of her, blocking the door.
“Move,” she said slowly, clearly. With deadly intent. She may be attracted to the man, but he was an obstacle to her daughter’s safety. One that could easily be removed.
“I will… if you give me one minute to explain why you should stay.”
He hadn’t touched her, but such desperation filled his eyes that the fire in her belly cooled. She hesitated, then gave him a nod, but didn’t put either bag down.
He had one minute.
Jarrad exhaled in relief. “I want you to move to the pack house.”
That was not what she’d expected him to say. She lowered her bag to the floor.
“Not even Carnarben is as safe as the pack lands, and we’ll have a chance to lay a trap for the Inquisition if they think you’re still here.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked. “We aren’t pack, and the werewolf community has managed to stay out of their crosshairs. Why would you risk bringing your whole community into a fight that isn’t yours?”
“You know why,” he said quietly, moving in and tentatively wrapping an enormous hand around hers.
Those damned sparks sent waves of comfort and familiarity through her. Yeah, she had her suspicions.
“You know we’re meant to be together. I won’t push you, but you need to understand I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure you and the pup are safe. You’re mine. Both of you.”
She believed him. And in claiming her daughter, he’d also claimed a piece of her heart. He didn’t have the whole thing—yet—but she could see how good it could be between them. Little tendrils of the spirit element wove between their clasped fingers, so bright she could see them even without witch sight. So could he.
“I guess witch magic recognises mates, too,” he said with a small smile, pulling her closer.
She fit snugly under his chin; his arms wrapped solidly around her as if he’d never let her go. For a moment, she relaxed. Nothing had ever felt this safe.
This right.
“Come to the pack house with me. They may have numbers on their side, but we’ll scare those Inquisition bastards so fucking badly, they’ll never move in on a supernatural again.”
Her mouth opened, the answer about to slip out when an angry voice interrupted her.
“What the fuck are you still doing here, Bitty? And where is my girl?”
Chapter 6
Jarrad snarled at the man looming in the doorway, pushing Tabitha protectively behind him. He heard her exasperated sigh, but he was too busy sizing up the new threat. At around six foot three, the male was enormous, but he dressed deceptively casually. Under the boardshorts and loose fit t-shirt, there were well-defined muscles. Plus, the man had an air of danger about him, one that said his body was a weapon and he knew how to use it.
One predator recognised another and there was no way he was letting this one within arm’s length of his mate. He smelled… different… like Tabitha, only… smokier. Bushfires raging through eucalyptus forests. Dangerous.
“Witch,” he growled, preparing to leap, but a fierce grip on his arm stopped him in his tracks. Jarrad’s wolf rolled under the surface of his skin, desperate to be let out to protect their mate, but that same woman held him back. He looked at her with wolf eyes, only then noticing the subtle similarities between her and the stranger.
“Don’t,” she breathed, running a soothing hand up and down his arm. He shivered, his wolf luxuriating in the touch. “He may be an arsehole, but he doesn’t mean us harm.”
“I see you’ve snared yourself a wolf, Little Bit.”
“Don’t call me that,” she muttered.
The stranger had the gall to laugh. That had his wolf snarling again. How much would it hurt his mate if he maimed this one?
“Here I am, big brother to the rescue, and you seem to have found the biggest, baddest Alpha in the state to protect you.”
Too much.
Frustrated, he let the wolf settle. He couldn’t harm his mate’s brother.
“How many times do I have tell you, we’re twins, Ryan? Same age!”
“But I’m obviously wiser.” Ryan deliberately ignored the name comment. “Only you could have got yourself into this mess, then stuck around to see the Inquisition in person after they’d already killed your husband.”
Tabitha went pale, swaying a little on her feet. Jarrad wrapped an arm around her just as her brother leaped forward to do the same. He glared at the witch, who glared right back, then backed away. Remorseful.
Jarrad’s heart ached for Tabitha. She’d lost her husband to the Inquisition.
“Sorry, sis,” Ryan said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That was cruel. I haven’t slept much. The search algorithms picked up a hit within the parameters we set last night, on an email account we’ve been monitoring in relation to Nathan’s death. I guess it’s just a little fresh i
n my mind.”
As far as apologies went, that was a pathetic one. Tabitha nodded her acceptance anyway, so once again Jarrad was denied a chance to thrash him.
“We were just going to pick up Luna and head out to pack lands,” Tabitha said, though she hadn’t agreed to any of that previously. Still, his heart swelled in his chest.
“WHAT?” the blond idiot yelled.
The man had a death wish.
“You’re going to get in my goddamn car and we’re going to the helipad for a direct flight to Carnarben.”
“No, we’re not.”
Only the calm authority in Tabitha’s voice had Jarrad’s wolf leashed.
“You’re welcome to help us plan our trap here, or you can hop on your stupid helicopter and go back to where you came from!”
Maybe not quite as calm as she had started. Still, she was in charge. He didn’t feel the need to step in now when she was obviously ready to give them a chance and wasn’t in any danger. She would have left with her brother otherwise.
The man paced furiously, muttering to himself. That burnt scent surged and fell. It didn’t take long to put two and two together. His mate’s brother was her opposite, a fire witch. That would be handy. Finally, Ryan stopped, face screwed up in distaste.
“You win. I’ll follow you.” The words were dragged out of him, but he said them.
Tabitha gave him a smug grin, picked up her emergency bags and strolled outside.
Jarrad quickly caught up with her. “So, that’s a yes to staying with me and trusting me to keep you safe?” He knew his grin was smug, but he couldn’t help it.
She raised an eyebrow, then gave in to a smile of her own. “I was going to say yes before that big idiot showed up.”
“And giving the metaphorical finger to a bossy brother had nothing to do with it?”
Tabitha blushed. Caught.
“That’s just icing on the cake.”
“I can hear you, you know.”
Of course they knew. Jarrad threw Tabitha a grin and she let out a guffaw. He could grow to love that sound.
“Luna?” he asked.
“Luna,” she confirmed. “Then we’ll follow you home.”
Home. Anticipation thrummed through him, along with the sense of rightness when they touched. With her and their pup in it, the pack house really would be home.
“Come on, then.”
He had her brother to placate, a seduction to plan, and an Inquisition to avert.
What could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 7
The Inquisitor watched the tiny house from across the street as the sun set behind the Blue Mountains. He hadn’t needed to use his curse to get to his vantage point on the roof. No, the owner had left a ladder standing conveniently close. Unfortunately, there were no signs of life, and there should have been at that time of day. The heretics, the abominations, should be home. They should have been going about their nightly routine, under his watchful eye, until he could ascertain the best way to eliminate them.
He waited. And waited. It was only when the moon rose high and he was sure they weren’t returning that he decided to investigate the den of sin.
Cautiously, he crossed the road. The border of the property loomed, but the Inquisitor was nobody’s fool. This wasn’t the first witch he’d cleansed, and it wouldn’t be the last. He stopped. Activated his curse.
Witch sight allowed him to see the threads designed to keep him out, let him cut through them with the weaver none-the-wiser, but he would have to seek penance for using it afterwards. The curse helped in seeing His work done, otherwise the Inquisitor would have long ago sought the clean embrace of death. No one should be cursed with seeing and manipulating the very matter of Hell.
When he’d discovered his tainted blood, he’d been horrified. But the Inquisitor General showed him how he could use his curse for the good of the Lord. As long as he sought forgiveness for each sin.
He welcomed the pain that came with his cleansing.
When the last of the threads unravelled, the Inquisitor slipped quietly into the unlocked house. Foolish witch, so arrogant she assumed her wards would keep him out.
She would learn.
Like a shadow, he ghosted from room to room, confirming what he knew to be true. Empty. He sneered at the crystals lining the mantle. The scent of herbs lingering in the air. The place was unclean, filled to the brim with sin, but their belongings were still there. He was patient. God was on his side, and the Inquisitor’s life was dedicated to the cause. He would prevail. He always did.
The Inquisitor avoided the contaminated bedrooms and furniture and settled himself on the lounge room floor to wait. They would return. And when they did, the world would be a cleaner place.
Two less abominations to pollute His creation.
“What’s going on, Mum?” Luna asked as they bumped along behind Jarrad’s ute on the unsealed road. Lucky Tabitha drove an SUV, otherwise the suspension would have taken a beating.
“We’re going to stay on pack lands for a while,” she answered, briefly meeting her daughter’s eyes in the mirror. “You’ll be able to play with Cole as much as you want.”
The frown lines between Luna’s eyes immediately disappeared at the mention of the wolf pup.
“That’s awesome! But why?” There was no distracting Luna. The little witch was too smart for her own good.
Tabitha sighed. “The Inquisition may have found us.” Honesty was always the best policy with Luna. She’d likely find trouble otherwise.
The girl’s face paled, and Tabitha considered pulling over, but Luna’s spine seemed to stiffen.
“They won’t get anywhere near us with Uncle Ryan and Jarrad around.”
And what am I, chopped liver?
Tabitha could never replace Ryan as the hero in her daughter’s eyes, and now it seemed Jarrad ran a close second. It didn’t matter how powerful Tabitha herself was. She suspected it wouldn’t be long until Ryan was kicked from his pedestal in favour of the Alpha.
The dense woodland ended abruptly as the road reached a wide clearing. A large community hall seemed to be the centre of the complex, with a smaller medical centre off to the side and an area with firepits and barbeques. To the left of the hall sat one of the most enormous houses she’d ever seen, enveloped by sunshine, wattle and blue gum. Jarrad bypassed the communal areas and drove straight to the home.
When they pulled up, Luna all but leaped from the car and ran straight towards Jarrad. Ryan pulled in behind them, his hire car a little worse for wear. Her mouth was moving before she even got there.
“Is this your house, Jarrad? Where am I sleeping? Do you have pets? Can I—”
“Enough!” Jarrad laughed, throwing his hands up at the bombardment. “One question at a time. Yes, this is my house. Others live on the property, but we like to have our own space. If you give me a minute, you can pick a room. And pets… do chickens count?”
Luna’s eyes went wide. “You have chickens?”
Jarrad nodded solemnly. “I do, but they’re not really pets. We keep them for the eggs and a bit of meat, occasionally.”
Luna gasped, horrified.
“You can’t eat your pets!” she cried. “Eggs yes, dinner no. Bad wolf!”
“But—”
“No eating your chickens!”
Tabitha could have warned him that he wouldn’t win the argument. It didn’t matter that Luna liked a good roast chook for dinner. If you kept an animal, you named it, and it was a pet—therefore it was exempt from the oven.
Jarrad sighed. “Come on then. I won’t eat the chickens.”
Tabitha could almost sense the while you’re around but didn’t call him on it.
“We have two spare rooms in the main house, and a granny flat above the garage for visitors who like their space.”
“That’ll be for me then,” Ryan said cheerfully, not waiting for Jarrad to confirm before moving off towards the stairs next to the garage.
Jarrad didn’t say anything, but the smirk on his face spoke volumes.
“It’s locked, isn’t it?” Tabitha asked, amused.
“Yep.”
Jarrad’s mouth moved with an exaggerated pop around the ‘p’. If anything, the grin got wider. And all she could focus on was the movement of those lips, the sinful purse of them, then the wide stretch. She wanted to taste them.
Shaking herself out of it, she strode towards the house, Jarrad falling into step beside her, his glee infectious.
Luna raced ahead, screeching, “I’m going to pick my room!”
Apparently, this was a holiday.
“Just not the big one with the white walls!” Jarrad called after her, still radiating satisfaction at sending Ryan on what he thought of as a wild goose chase.
“You do realise he’s not your regular government worker, right?”
That satisfaction didn’t dim as he grabbed her hand just before she opened the door, pulling her into him. The strands of spirit were back, sending their delightful shivers racing through her. She leaned in closer, breathing him in. What the hell was wrong with her?
“I’d guessed,” he replied. “But it’ll slow him down enough.”
“For what?” she asked breathlessly.
He leaned in closer, those sinfully full lips an inch from her own. Her whole being yearned towards him, desperate for the completion she knew would be theirs.
“For you to ask, Tabitha. Please ask. I don’t know how much longer I’ll last without a taste of you.”
She didn’t ask. She took. Plundered. Fisted his hair in her hand and drew his mouth to hers in a desperate hunger. Jarrad groaned and opened for her, let her take the lead, and damned if that didn’t make her even wilder. Tabitha ran her hands possessively across his shoulders, traced his torso before she hooked her hands into his belt to stop them travelling further.
All that mattered in this moment was the taste of him, the reckless heat between them she wanted to savour. She would never get enough of this… this wild magic.
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