by Cecy Robson
Oh, and good Lord, doesn’t she look ready to slap me.
“Hey, Ceel,” Bren says, whirling her around and leading her back into the house when her stares skips to the car. “Good to see you.”
Bren keeps his arm around her. He hasn’t been as affectionate with her since she and Aric were mated. Mostly because Aric’s wolf goes all ape-shit when another male draws too close. And today is no exception.
Aric stiffens as Bren guides her back to the house. Bren isn’t suicidal, but he is smart, causing the necessary distraction we need.
“Aric, stop it,” Celia tells him when a deep growl rumbles in his chest.
“Oh, sorry, boss,” Bren says, shoving her into his arms. “Didn’t mean anything by that.”
Aric watches Bren as he jogs into the house and I make my way onto the porch. I think there might be trouble until Celia clasps Aric’s hands, soothing is wolf. “You know he’s just my friend, and that you have nothing to worry about,” she whispers.
“Sorry, love,” he tells her, curling his body against hers. “But after what we’ve been through . . .”
“I know,” she says. “Just don’t worry about us, please.”
I hurry through the door and to where the small foyer opens into our large family room. I try to keep my steps casual as my heels click along the dark wood, but along the sweeping space, everything sounds that much louder and seemingly more distressed. I don’t look behind me, knowing Celia and Aric are following, seconds from calling me out.
Bren flops on the couch, munching on a bag of chips he looted from our pantry. He shoots Celia a poignant stare as she and Aric make their way forward.
I brush off my black jeans in an effort to avoid making eye contact with Aric. Of course that does jack. And of course, the alpha badass picks up on it.
“Is there something you need to tell me,” Aric asks, pulling Celia onto his lap when he sits.
Damn these wolves and their supernatural senses.
I lift my chin and feign surprise. Aric clenches his jaw, but then his attention drifts toward Bren. “What are you keeping from me?” he asks.
“What’s there to keep?” Bren counters. “We covered the legions of zombies we had to take on, Emme reliving that scene from The Ring with creepy dead kids, Taran getting smacked around by limbless hands, Shayna going blind, and me getting gutted. No offense, but I think I was pretty damn descriptive on the phone, boss.”
Aric watches Bren as I shoot Celia another poignant look seeing how she ignored Bren’s hint the first time around. She squirms against Aric’s lap, again, and then again. If this is some kind of seduction thing, me and my girl need to have a serious talk.
Aric adjusts his hold around her waist when she does it yet again. “What’s wrong, sweetness?” he asks, frowning at her erratic motions.
“My body’s changing,” she says, her voice taking that odd quiver it does when she’s trying not to lie.
I gape at her, wondering how the hell she managed all those super-spy missions the vamps would send her on.
Aric’s brow softens as he strokes her back. “Of course it is,” he tells her. “Our baby is growing inside of you.”
I’m not sure if he believes it, but he seems to need to, and because of it, I’m struck with a pang of guilt.
Celia, though, charges full speed ahead. Well, in her own awkward way. “Maybe I should buy some new panties to help me be more, um, comfortable.”
Oh, and look at that, Aric’s attention is no longer on us.
“Maybe you should invest in some thongs, Ceel,” Bren says, making it a point to flip on the T.V. and turn up the volume, like he doesn’t care either way, and that this isn’t all part of his dastardly plan.
Celia’s glare is enough to singe a hole through Bren’s forehead, but Aric isn’t noticing anything except her. His stare rakes down her body. “Yeah, sweetness,” he murmurs. “Maybe you’ll be more comfortable only wearing thongs.”
Celia’s cheeks flame red when Aric nuzzles her throat. As private and shy as she is, this isn’t a conversation they’d normally have in our presence, or affection they’d so openly display. But Bren’s suggestion, coupled with her response, is enough to make Aric’s wolf go all beast and ignore the rest of us.
She clears her throat as Aric increases his motions. “Do you want to help me pick some out?” she squeaks.
“Yes,” he breathes against her skin. “Let’s go upstairs and look online.”
“Ah,” Celia begins, swallowing hard when Aric’s tongue drags behind her ear. “Wouldn’t you rather go out? So I can try them on?”
“Later,” he says, standing and placing her on the floor in one smooth move. “Much later.” His fingertips trail down her spine as he leads her up the stairs.
I don’t miss how he palms her ass as they reach the landing. Just like I don’t miss the seething look she fires my and Bren’s way. She hates lying to Aric, but I think she’s more pissed at how easily her mate fell for Bren’s plan.
Bren fist bumps me when they disappear. “Give them a minute,” he whispers when I attempt to stand and Emme pokes her head out from the kitchen.
I glance at the door, leaping to my feet when Alice crashes through it.
“Ergh!” she says, flailing her arms excitedly when she sees me.
“No, no, no, no,” I say rushing forward.
The wolves and Celia appear at the top of the stairs, growling viciously. Celia lands in a deep crouch half a breath behind Aric and Koda. She lurches forward, her claws protruding.
Aric clasps her elbow, pulling her back and behind him. But instead of meeting me with all the protective rage Celia demonstrates, he and Koda stare at me like I nut-punched them.
“Who’s this?” Aric asks.
Of course, now everyone is looking at me. “Um. Alice?” I offer.
Not the answer he was looking for. “When is Alice going back?” he counters.
I cross my arms. “She’s not,” I reply, keeping my voice casual. “She’s with me.”
Celia clasps her mouth, her eyes widening. But it’s Koda who responds, his long wet hair sticking to his bare shoulders. “You brought a familiar into this house,” he says, speaking slow enough to demonstrate the extent of his shock.
He managed to pull on a pair of tight black boxers, which is all I can be thankful for right about now. Shayna, hurries down the steps, gathering the front of her robe against her as I stand there in a pathetic attempt to hold my ground.
“A familiar?” Celia asks, dumbfounded by the news, and why the wolves aren’t attacking.
Alice hobbles to the couch and plops down next to Bren to watch T.V..
And in three, two, one, Aric loses what remains of his cool. “Why is there a familiar in this house and in your presence?” he rumbles.
His head jerks Bren’s way when I don’t answer. Bren shrugs. “I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she gets,” he says, totally and literally throwing me to the wolves.
“You asshole,” I snap.
“Taran,” Aric bites out, cutting me off and storming forward. “Do you know the shit-storm you’re hitting us with?—the trouble you’re causing between me and the witches.”
“They don’t have to know,” is my awesome comeback.
“You have to be fucking kidding me!” he snarls. “What you’re doing is among our deadliest sins.”
“I didn’t know,” I say watching Celia begin to pace. “I was just trying to be nice to her.”
“Savana was beating her,” Emme says. “We were only trying to help.”
“Koda, don’t,” Shayna says when he marches forward. She cuts in front of him and presses her hands against his chest. “Don’t hurt her. We’re the only friends she has.”
“She’s not your friend,” Koda tells her. “She’s not even supposed to be part of this world. For Taran’s sake, I have to destroy her.”
My body lurches so hard, I barely keep my feet. I scramble toward Alice, my right
arm erupting with blue and white flames.
I face the wolves with my hand out, pretending that the response of my magic is purposeful and that my arm isn’t simply reacting to my anger and fear. It’s safe to assume, I’m not fooling anyone.
Alice cowers behind Bren when she sees my fire.
“You’re not touching her,” I snap at Koda. I round on Aric. “Any of you. Look at her, she’s scared. She’s not a threat to anyone.”
Aric’s face darkens with rage. “I know that,” he growls. “If she was, the wards protecting this house would have demolished her. That doesn’t excuse the fact that she shouldn’t be here.”
I don’t respond, which only pisses Aric off further. “Taran, she doesn’t belong in life. She belongs in death—can’t you understand? This slavery of the dead. I can’t allow this.”
“I’m not asking you to,” I say. “And I’m not asking for help. What I’m telling you is that she’s our friend, and as long as she’s willing to live, I’m going to let her.”
“Aric, please,” Emme says. “Just let her be.”
“She’s a fresh, strong zombie,” Bren says, taking a protective stance next to Alice when Koda releases an unearthly growl. “Exactly what Savana needed to raise the army she did. Like I told you, I’ve never seen anything like it. We couldn’t chance Savana finding Alice again and reclaiming her. So we did the next best thing.”
“No,” Aric says, refusing to budge. “The best thing was to throw her into the fire.” He ignores Celia’s growing sympathy as she takes in Alice’s trembling form. “She’s an abomination of our natural law.”
“The same thing could be said about your mate,” Bren says, holding his ground.
And holy shit, doesn’t Bren know how to push it. “Watch your mouth,” Aric warns, taking a step forward.
“He’s right, Aric,” Celia says, luring his attention. “She’s not supposed to exist. I get it, and believe me, I’m less than thrilled. But my sisters and I weren’t meant to be either.” She motions to Alice. “Look at her. She’s innocent. She never asked for any of this.”
“That doesn’t mean I can allow her to stay,” he insists.
“The dark ones feel the same way about us,” she says, her focus skimming to Emme, Shayna, and me.
“That’s different,” he says.
She shakes her head, gathering the strands of her long wavy hair. “I don’t agree,” she says, walking slowly toward him and closing the space between them. She’s not blind to her mate’s position of power in the supernatural world. And to my knowledge, she’s never asked him to do something that would jeopardize his status or require him to abuse his power. But she does then. “The time will come when her fate is decided, until then, leave her in peace and allow her to live what life she has.”
The flames around my arm sputter and sizzle out in the silence that follows, the expulsion of energy causing it to fall limp at my side. I don’t bother wiping the sweat from my brow, keeping my head up when Aric approaches.
“I won’t order the kill,” he tells me, meeting me with more anger than I’ve ever seen. “But I won’t protect her either. She’s neither family nor Pack.”
“I understand,” I say. My tone reflects strength and confidence I don’t quite have. In truth, I’m terrified what could happen if the witches find out about Alice.
He doesn’t flinch, not that I expect him to. “Then you must also understand that whether you knowingly attached her to you or not, she’s your responsibility. I’ll allow her presence, but I’ll be damned if I permit her to jeopardize the treaty between my Pack and the coven.”
Chapter Eleven
Genevieve couldn’t wait to sink her perfectly manicured nails into me. When I entered my room, there spread neatly across the bed was my designated uniform: ankle length gray dress, white apron, white bonnet (don’t get me started), and pointy black shoes (with freaking buckles!).
I think the shoes were my undoing. That, and the note:
Dear Lesser Taran,
Mmm and doesn’t she like the sound of that.
It is my pleasure to welcome you to our program.
I’ll bet it is, Glinda.
While I understand and respect the large role you played in abolishing the past evil that threatened our world, your position will equal that of your Lesser peers. No special considerations or accommodations will be made on your behalf. Nor will your alliances or family members influence or alter our time-honored way of teaching. You are to address your Superiors as such and treat them with the reverence they deserve. Insubordination will not be tolerated and will be dealt with in the same tradition we handle those who defy us.
In other words, behave or we’ll kill you.
To insult or attack your Superiors is to insult me.
Okay, now she’s just daring me to do something.
Take your role seriously, and my sisters and I will do everything in our power to help you master yours.
Sincerely,
Genevieve Lacoste
The Most Superior Head Witch, Lake Tahoe Region
I’m convinced she made that title up.
I walk out of my bedroom on my first day of Hogwarts, trying not to make a lot of noise so I can make a quick escape. Of course, it’s not working.
It doesn’t help that the small heels of these crap shoes clip, clop against the hardwood floors or that Alice is limping behind me. Danny put some kind of charm on an old necklace of mine. If someone else is wearing it, and that someone else stays in the house, Alice can’t leave.
Well, in theory anyway.
“Ergh,” she says, happily trailing me.
I shake out my hands, trying to shush her and wishing I could make her obey me. I told her to stay in her bed aka my bathtub. It may sound cruel, but it beats her shedding skin all over my carpet and having her watch me sleep like she had been doing.
“Ergh?” she questions, wondering why I appear so frantic.
“Taran?” Shayna calls as I reach the front door. “We made you breakfast for your first big day.”
My shoulders slump and it’s all I can do not to bang my head against the door.
“Taran?” she calls again, her light feet bouncing around the kitchen.
I glimpse at Alice. Considering she doesn’t say much, her chastising expression speaks volumes and she can wield Catholic guilt like a seasoned nun.
“I don’t want you to see me like this,” I admit.
“Oh, come on,” Shayna says, skipping into family room. “How bad can it be?”
She stumbles to a stop when she sees how bad it really is. Celia and Emme shadow her, their grins slipping like melting snow along a tin roof.
“Oh, look at . . . you,” Celia says.
“Kill me,” I beg her. “You have the claws. You have the skill. Just make it quick.”
Shayna’s stare zooms to the floor. “What’s up with the shoes, dude?” she asks, as if that’s the only thing wrong with this ensemble.
My voice is about as tight as the bun in my hair. We’re supposed to have all our hair up and away from our faces, but honestly, it’s the only way I could shove on this the bonnet. “Lesser witches dress in honor of our fallen sisters burned at the stake.”
“That’s nice,” Emme offers, because what else is she going to say.
“No, Emme. It’s bullshit. I’m convinced the Puritans or whatever the fuck just meant to burn the shoes and the stupid wand-wavers were too dense to take the damn things off.”
“I can see that,” Shayna says, taking another good look at my footwear.
I used to be cute. I used to have style. I used to wear attire that drew attention for the right reasons ,not because I resembled someone who belonged on a box of oats.
You’d never know any of this by the way my sisters are eyeing me. Oh, and look, here comes Aric and Koda because, why not.
They pause as they step out of the kitchen their eyes widening briefly.
Aric averts his gaze as if pained
by the sight of me. “I’ll be right back,” he tells Celia. He kisses the top of her head, walking past me without looking at me and giving me ample space.
Koda follows behind him. Neither say much unless you count Koda’s, “Jesus Christ,” remark when he passes me.
I lower my lids briefly and take a few breaths when the door shuts behind me, hoping to release some of the pressure tensing my shoulders and to relax my balling fists. It does nothing for me or my sisters. They regard me like I remember our mother doing when she’d drop us off at school—back when we lived in an economically deprived city and in a war zone of a neighborhood—like she realized she had to let us go and was praying we wouldn’t get our asses kicked during recess.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I admit.
Celia leans back to rest against the couch. “Which part, the schooling or joining the coven?”
I throw out a hand. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the part where I have to bow down to the witches and swallow whatever they force down my throat.”
“No one’s asking you to bow down, Taran,” Celia tells me patiently. “There are rules to follow, tasks to perform, and a lot to learn. But all that is manageable and what you need to do until you gain control.”
“Yeah, T,” Shayna agrees. “What Celia said.” The charm she’s wearing to keep Alice put swings against her chest as she makes her way to me. She embraces me with her long thin arms. “It’s just temporary, a means to an end. A few months might be all you need to gain control. Remember nursing school? How bad it was and how none of us thought we’d get through it?”
“Nursing school didn’t involve cauldrons bubbling with enough juice to turn anyone in the vicinity into sea urchins. It also didn’t involve spirit summoning or whatever that Séance Class is supposed to teach me. Did you read the syllabus? I have to slather myself with dirt from a freshly dug grave so I don’t sprout hooves. Hooves. What kind of messed up shit is that?”
Shayna rubs my back. “I asked Koda about that. The good news is only two to three Lessers end up with hooves or tusks or even antlers a year out of like, fifteen students. Oh, and that dirt is supposed to be really good for your skin.”