“The only reason I’m telling you this, dipshit, instead of hauling her back with me to Carnarben, is ‘coz I’m pretty sure you are Goddess blessed. Mates, or whatever you call it. And there’s no arguing with that shit.” His voice had risen by the end of his speech and a little voice called from upstairs.
“I heard that word, Uncle Ryan. Don’t make me come down there!”
Ryan softened further, sighing in defeat.
“What did she do, Ryan?” Jarrad asked, voice soft. “I said it badly before, but I need to know. She drew on the power of my pack to make a spell.”
His lip curled in disgust. “Still can’t let it go, even when you know you’re in the wrong. Wolves,” he said with an eye-roll. “Like bloody dogs with a bone.”
“Just tell me,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
“It was a protection spell, numb-nuts, and a bloody strong one at that. And one you’ll need if my sources are correct and an Inquisitor is on the way.”
Protection… Jarrad’s heart sank into his gut as the words registered. Ryan was nodding, the sneer still on his face. Not even Jarrad’s wolf felt like a battle now.
“Finally get it, do you? She didn’t plan it, you idiot, but she certainly used the power that came to her. Used it to protect you and your pack. Not that you appreciate it. Now she’s on her own and she could be in danger. She shouldn’t have left here at all.”
But she couldn’t stay here with him. The unspoken words ripped through his already shredded heart.
“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Jarrad said, unconvinced. Both he and his wolf wanted to race into town to get her. “It’s not like we’ve had any strangers in town since—”
The shrill shriek of his ringtone interrupted. “Forester,” he grunted, then relaxed as he recognised Kyle’s voice. Prematurely, it turned out.
“Trouble, Jarrad. Vicky’s in hospital. Severe trauma to the brain, unresponsive. Seems there was a break-in at her office, some files were rifled through. Want to take a guess which ones?”
Vicky. The real estate agent.
Fuck.
“I’m heading in now.”
“Don’t let your mate out of your sight. Seems the Inquisition slipped by us.”
Jarrad’s stomach roiled. And he’d driven his mate away with thoughtless accusations. He couldn’t breathe.
“Jarrad? You there?”
“Yeah,” he croaked past the lump in his throat. “But she’s not. I said something…”
Kyle was a good Beta. He read between the lines. “Where is she? I’ll head there now.”
Jarrad nodded, even though his friend couldn’t see him. “The hippie house. I’ll meet you there.” He hung up, reaching for his keys.
“I’m coming with you.” Jarrad had forgotten about Ryan.
“You need to stay with Luna,” he replied.
“Fuck!” Ryan’s fist struck the wall, leaving a burn mark behind. “I should have realised he’d already be here.”
“Who?” Jarrad asked, fangs dropping as his wolf rose.
“The Inquisitor the witches call Shadow. A number of email addresses we monitor seem to be linked to him, but we’ve never found him.” Ryan’s eyes were haunted. “What he leaves behind… it’s the stuff of nightmares.”
“And he’s after my mate? How do you know?”
“The email sent the night before last was found in one of those monitored accounts. It didn’t appear to be opened, but the town name was in the heading. I was—”
“Enough! My mate is in danger! You stay here and I’ll—”
With a sudden lurch, the thread connecting him to Tabitha tightened. Energy was pulled from him, being replaced with excruciating pain.
“Tabitha!” he howled, shifting instantly and racing for the forest. His wolf was faster than the ute over rough ground, and Tabitha needed him—NOW.
The hunt was on. Moon help the man who had hurt his mate. Because Jarrad himself would have no mercy.
Chapter 10
The hippie house was eerily quiet when Tabitha pulled into the drive. The place felt… wrong. Or maybe that was just the heaviness of her heart. For a moment, she sat in the car and studied the cheerful purple paint, trying to figure out where it all went to hell.
Who was she kidding? She might not have believed she was in love with Jarrad, but she’d been willing to give him her heart. After all, she’d felt his loyalty, his passion. She’d even sensed his devotion to her daughter. Tabitha believed the Goddess had finally smiled on them after Nathan’s death.
Turns out her ‘mate’ was just another witch-hater like the Inquisition, only he liked to pretend acceptance first. Just another person who believed those with power were less than human. She’d thought a wolf would be different.
Still, she trusted him enough to know he’d never let anything happen to a child. Luna would be safe out there with him while she cleared her head. And that protection spell was the strongest thing she’d ever woven. No one with any ill intent could get past those.
Steeling her resolve, Tabitha checked her wards once more before exiting the car. Much as she would like to stall further, the house appeared just as she left it, and if she was gone too long Luna would worry.
The front door glided noiselessly open. Two steps inside and already she knew the place wasn’t home anymore. It felt empty, lifeless, lacking character and warmth. The curtains were closed and the dim light did nothing to dispel her unease. Two more steps and her skin started crawling. A reaction to the emptiness of the house or a warning from the Goddess?
When she crossed the lounge room towards the corridor and the bedrooms, it only got worse. Ice skated up her spine. Her fingertips tingled. She tried to draw on her magic to prepare for whatever was coming, even as she inched back towards the front door. Nothing. Should she run straight for the car, or the kitchen and her potions?
Was the threat in the house, or outside?
With another desperate pull, she tried to draw the elements into her, even as she continued to back quietly across the room. Any element. Fire, water, earth… anything. But between the spell-craft of last night and the emotions of the morning, those reservoirs were exhausted. Kitchen then. Without those potions, she was defenceless.
The moment she turned to whip around the island bench was the moment her braid was just about ripped from her skull. The momentum brought her crashing to the floor, only to be pulled up short by the leash of her hair.
Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away. She needed to see her tormentor.
The face that sneered into hers from above would haunt her nightmares. Flawless caramel skin, chiselled jaw, blonde hair shaved close to the skull. Black jeans and a black leather jacket. And those eyes… they were dead grey pools, without pity or remorse, filled with a single purpose—her death.
She yanked at her braid, hoping to pull the man off balance, but he raised an arm and backhanded her with the force of a freight train across her face. Ringing filled Tabitha’s ears even as spots flew across her eyes. Her stomach threatened to expel her breakfast. Tabitha was sure he’d broken her jaw. The hand on her hair loosened but she couldn’t summon the strength to move.
“Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” the man intoned.
No anger, no fear. No emotion as he said the eight words that the Inquisition lived by.
Tabitha choked out a laugh, though it sent streaks of agony straight to her brain. Exodus. The fucker was quoting Exodus at her. Even though it would hurt, she murmured, “Pot, kettle.” It was about all she could manage, but it seemed to do the trick.
A tiny flicker of movement in the cold depths of his eyes. Wind in a storm. A twitch of his mouth, acknowledging what Tabitha had just figured out—the man couldn’t have got past Tabitha’s wards without magic of his own. That blow was not normal. The force of air reinforced it, confirmed by the movement behind his eyes.
“I pay my dues, witch, as must you.”
The man drew a knife,
following Tabitha as she clawed her way towards the kitchen. If she could just get to the potions… The man was playing with her, but she wasn’t done, not by a long shot.
A Bright never gave up.
The Inquisitor flicked a finger, bonds of air forming around her limbs, trapping Tabitha an arm’s length from her goal. It was a sickening parody of her mating with Jarrad. Head tilted; the man studied her dispassionately.
“I wonder why you don’t fight back. Could it be you have so little power? Or have you exhausted yourself in other ways? Let’s see what you do with a little extra… motivation.”
The wind rushed behind his eyes as the bonds tightened around Tabitha.
She gasped, the sound involuntary, which morphed into a shriek when his knife painted a bloody line down her other cheek. The pain ricocheted through her whole body. More when he sliced the skin down her neck, along her arm, to her wedding band.
Stars danced inside her head, but his next words sent fury rising to chase them away.
“A wedding band, but no man in the house… Was it your husband I cleansed three years ago outside Carnarben?”
Tabitha jerked against the bonds, anger overwhelming pain. Uselessly. They held firm. Her blood dripped steadily onto the tiles and snaked towards the cupboard. So close, yet an impossible distance to cover.
“You’ll be comforted to know he repented his sins before the end. As will you, little witch. But first, you need to be cleansed. Only our pain can atone for our sins.”
He pulled back her finger and started to carve. To circle below her wedding band as if ring-barking a tree. Then he popped the lower knuckle right out of the socket.
Tabitha screamed in every way she could. She screamed as his captive wind muffled her voice. She screamed with her muscles as they tensed in agony. And when she could hold it no longer, she screamed down the fragile, tattered bond to her mate.
And he howled back his rage. She felt his wolf take him and she revelled in it. Felt his bond with each member of the pack, felt it fill her with energy before she thrust it away. Locked them away from her. They didn’t need her pain. And she couldn’t stand being accused of betrayal again. Not even now.
She just hoped he’d find her before it was too late.
At her thoughts, Jarrad howled along the bond. Then he ripped open the flimsy barrier she’d built between them and threw the energy of the pack at her.
It was enough.
Enough for her to snap the bonds that held her. The Inquisitor stumbled backwards, disorientated as the elements rebounded into him. Enough for her to push him away, the knife flying in the opposite direction.
And just enough for her to fling open the cupboard with strands of air and fling a potion at her tormentor.
The glass shattered and an inferno engulfed the Inquisitor. Tabitha’s strength fled as the man rolled on her lounge room carpet, spreading the fire to her house. Smoke and tiny flames taunted her as Tabitha’s head hit the ground.
Black shutters lowered over her eyes and she was lost.
He had no doubt about where the flames were coming from. Knew it as though he was there witnessing it himself. Jarrad’s lungs worked overtime, pushing his wolf body harder than it had ever run before. Still, he was terrified he was too late. After a massive rush of energy, the link between him and Tabitha had gone mute.
Was she even alive? He wanted to have faith, but fear rode him hard. The bond might be silent, but it hadn’t severed. He had to get there in time. He didn’t want to think about losing her with the last words they’d shared hanging over his head.
When he burst through the woods at the back of her house, a whine of terror escaped him. Smoke billowed from the windows, stinging his eyes and nose. Flames licked at the back door. The windows. Would the front be any better?
He circled to the house, just as Kyle pulled up in the fire engine. Sirens are for emergencies only, he’d told Luna, and thank the Moon for his Beta’s prompt response. But he wasn’t waiting.
Fuck that.
All eyes were on the flames being beaten back by Kyle and his team.
His Beta knew Jarrad wasn’t staying outside. Jarrad shifted quickly and snatched the clothes his friend had left on the front seat and was dressed in seconds.
He sucked in fresh air until his lungs were almost bursting, then ran. Ten steps and he was in the house. Five and he found her blood-soaked body in the kitchen. The flames reached red-hot fingers towards him but Jarrad ignored his own pain. He didn’t know where to touch her without making things worse. Speed took precedence. He raced with her into the waiting ambulance, relieving his aching chest with a breath of air. Then, he howled his fear the night sky.
Others took her from his arms, hooked her up to machines that would keep her body alive. Even though her soul was somewhere else. He couldn’t feel her at all.
Jarrad prayed to the Moon because he knew.
Knew that if his mate were to survive this, it would be a miracle.
Jarrad followed the stench of crisped human flesh and singed leaves through the woods at the back of the hippie house. Even two days later, it lingered as though fresh in his nostrils. His wolf loosed a feral snarl, teeth bared and fangs aching. Jarrad would enjoy this hunt.
Especially since his mate was yet to wake.
Leaving Tabitha in the hospital to do this job was torture, but he was comforted by the fact their pup and Ryan were with her. If she woke, she wouldn’t be alone. And when she did wake, it would be with the knowledge he’d served justice on her attacker.
Nose to ground, he continued to trace the path of the Inquisitor. It didn’t go far.
The man lay in a heap next to a small stream. His chest rose and fell, so Jarrad guessed he was alive, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him. Every inch of him was black, and Jarrad took sick satisfaction in knowing Tabitha’s potion had taken out her attacker in the most painful way possible.
Jarrad shifted into his human form.
“Come… fin… ish… me, wolf?”
The words were barely intelligible, but it surprised Jarrad he could utter them at all. A small breeze slapped at him. Odd for such a still, humid day. He shrugged it off.
“I’m trying to decide whether I’ll grant you the mercy of death now, or whether I’ll leave you here to suffer.”
Laughter rasped from the man’s burnt throat. “Need… suffer. Suffer… is… cleans…”
His chest contorted in a hacking cough, but Jarrad was immune to his suffering.
“In that case, I think I’ll—” Jarrad’s phone chirped. Two words. She’s awake. “I have somewhere to be. This will be quick.” His fingers lengthened into claws. With a vicious swipe, the Inquisitor’s head lolled, blood streaming from a new orifice. Grinning, Jarrad loped back into the trees.
He didn’t look back. If he had, he would have been afraid.
A grotesque smile was frozen on the blackened mouth. And a flashing red beacon rolled from between the fingers that had hidden it.
War was coming, whether they invited it or not.
Chapter 11
Tabitha woke to white. White room, white sheets, white teeth from all the smiles around her. The next thing that registered was the noise. Everyone talked at once, but that wasn’t enough to drown out the beeps of machinery and marching footsteps back and forth in the corridor, the screeching children outside in the waiting room. It was so overwhelming she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to make sense of the world.
“Don’t go back to sleep, Mummy. I need you!”
Luna’s wail had her eyes flying back open.
“Luna?” she said, or at least she tried to. All that came out were a few muffled syllables. Something tried to choke her. She stiffened, tried to raise her hands and get the thing from her throat but nurses came in speaking soothingly and, when she was calm, called the doctor to see if he would take it out.
“You’re a very lucky lady,” the doctor said as he removed the tube.
Typica
lly for a doctor, his bedside manner sucked. He hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself before poking and prodding her.
“Most people would have died from that amount of smoke inhalation alone. Let alone the burns and cuts you suffered. Thank the Moon our Alpha ignored the danger and ran in to pull you out. Seconds longer and we wouldn’t have been able to save you.” The doctor’s eyes flashed with pride. Another wolf.
Yes, she thought. And lucky that snarly wolf had a whole pack’s energy to draw on.
When she was finally free of the tube and her visitors allowed back in, Tabitha was content to rest with Luna curled into her right side. The one without twenty million stitches. Ryan sat in a chair as close to her as he could get as he filled her in on her rescue. Tabitha guessed he wouldn’t be letting her out of his sight any time soon. Her daughter had only just fallen into a restless sleep when Jarrad burst through the door.
She glared at him with a finger raised to her lips. Contrite, he stopped. Padded silently towards her. Then picked up her left hand, now minus a ring finger, and kissed the unmarked back tenderly. Her heart fluttered, but she hardened it. One rescue did not change his words or actions from before.
The man would have to earn her trust.
“Tabitha, I’m sorry.” The man didn’t beat around the bush. He took a deep breath and forged on, not waiting for a reply. “Almost the instant that I’d said those things, I knew they weren’t true. I was… scared.”
She turned away. It hurt to look at him. Instead, she looked at her brother, who actually scowled at her before nodding his head towards the other man. She guessed she wouldn’t be looking to him for support with this one.
“And when I thought I’d lost you, and the last things you’d heard from me were—”
She heard him swallow. Tilted her head towards him. A little.
“I thought I’d follow you. If you went, I’d—”
“Idiot!” she snarled, throat sore and voice raspy. Still, it needed to be said. “You’d leave Luna without one of her protectors, because of your guilt. You have a lot to learn about being a parent.”
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