by Layla Nash
Whatever he’d been about to berate her over disappeared, and his rage evaporated as she looked up and saw him. The ice queen had disappeared, and instead a vulnerable young woman looked at him, exhausted.
And then her face went crimson. Her chin tilted up as she stared at his face, her cheeks turning purple, and Evershaw remembered rather suddenly that he still didn’t have pants on.
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth, since it was pretty fucking funny to see the cool and unflappable witch so discomfited. Part of him imagined witches did all their shit naked under the full moon anyway, but apparently not. He folded his arms over his chest and resisted the urge to preen a bit as he watched her avoid looking anywhere below his neck. “Smith needs your assistance with the SUV.”
Her left eye twitched. “Fine.”
“No argument?”
Her eyes narrowed and he reconsidered having her inspect anything that he would rely on to survive. She might try to cut the brake lines or hex the steering or something. The witch deflated though, and whatever fight had been there disappeared. “Just get out.”
“This is my house, girl. I go where I want.”
She got up and limped very slowly toward him, until he thought she was going to square up and give him a piece of her mind. It would have been a relief to see the furious side of the witch once more, but instead of challenging him, she turned and drifted past him and into the living room. Evershaw’s eyes narrowed as he turned to watch her progress.
Henry immediately closed ranks with the witch and spoke with her quietly, and another wolf handed over a cup of coffee so that Henry could hand it to her as the witch made her way slowly into the hall. Evershaw scowled. His entire pack lost their fucking minds over the girl. But he understood why, since even his conscience twinged to see how tired and worn down she looked after just two days with the pack. It just made him wonder what kind of magic she did normally if she couldn’t sustain some healing over a couple of days.
He stalked back to his room, taking a cup of coffee on his way, and slammed the door so he wouldn’t have to hear the whispers as the pack discussed the witch and everything she’d done.
Normally he liked being an asshole and making everyone uncomfortable. He enjoyed getting under people’s skin. It kept him on the offensive and everyone else on the defensive, and it meant he could control the interaction. And since everyone expected him to be an asshole, he didn’t mind meeting those expectations. He wouldn’t let anyone tell him how to act or react, not when he’d spent so much time worrying about what Ashley wanted and how she wanted him to present himself. He didn’t want to waste his fucking time on worrying what other people thought.
Except... He didn’t like seeing the witch blush. Even though there was a bit of humor in how embarrassed she’d been to see him standing there naked, particularly since she so deliberately avoided looking at his junk when it would have been perfectly acceptable to him for her to gaze as long as her heart desired, he didn’t want her to be miserable. He didn’t like seeing her slumped over near the window, exhausted and disoriented and just... defeated. The wolf didn’t like it one bit. Evershaw didn’t like it.
He suddenly missed the one thing he hadn’t seen much of—her smile. After she made him drink that awful concoction, there had been just a glimmer of a smile, a teasing sparkle in her eyes, when she admitted it had just been to fuck with him. Just the thought drove him wild. No one dared screw with him anymore. Even though Todd gave him shit about getting a beer belly, not even his cousin would have dared pulled a prank like that.
But that witch... He shook his head as he stepped into the shower, smiling to himself and imagining what other kinds of tricks the girl had up her sleeves. Her pranks could get dangerous, no doubt, with all kinds of curses and shit getting thrown around. Still, he liked a challenge.
He definitely liked a challenge.
Chapter 22
Deirdre
I’d never wished that witches melted in water, but if I could have disappeared into a puddle as Evershaw strutted around naked, I would have done so in a heartbeat. The man was completely shameless. Luckily I managed to make my legs carry me out of there and Henry was standing by with coffee. I didn’t dare look back or otherwise acknowledge that Evershaw existed, but I felt the weight of everyone else’s attention as I headed for the hall.
At least Mercy was standing by in the quarters I’d occupied the previous night with new clothes and a quick breakfast. She made a strange keening noise when she saw me, and before I could do more than blink, she threw herself at me and squeezed me so tightly that she knocked the breath right out of me.
“Thank goodness you’re here,” she whispered. “Are you okay? Did you rest? What do you need?”
I needed to go home. I needed to feed my cat and sleep in my own bed and wear my own clothes. I needed to stay as far from Miles Evershaw as humanly possible before I lost what remained of my dignity. And a little quiet time in my greenhouse with copious amounts of hot tea and the soft drone of the honeybees all around would soothe my nerves for sure.
But instead of dumping that all on them, I patted Mercy’s back and tried to untangle myself without spilling the coffee Henry had so thoughtfully handed me. “I’ll be fine. I didn’t get as much sleep as I’d like, but we’ll just have to plan for a nap later this afternoon.”
I smiled, because it was sort of a joke, but Mercy nodded and pursed her lips. “Of course. A nap. Yes. Once they all leave for the meeting, we can relax and you can nap and I’ll stay here to make sure no one bothers you.”
I squeezed her hand in thanks, trying not to let the tears resurface at the small kindness of a hug and genuine concern, and cleared my throat as I looked at Henry. “Apparently I’m supposed to help Smith with the car? Do I have time to put on real clothes?”
“I’ve got them all ready,” Mercy said. She dumped a duffel bag full of jeans and shirts and bras and underwear and everything else I could possibly want to wear onto the bed and frowned at the contents. “I don’t know what you like, so I just grabbed a bunch of stuff from the closet.”
My eyes felt scratchy from the tears and lack of sleep. If only the caffeine would kick in a little faster... “Thank you. Is Smith waiting downstairs or do I have a moment to collect my thoughts?”
Some uncertainty filtered across Henry’s expression. “The alpha wanted you to go down there immediately. But Smith must return and has not arrived yet, so there is some time. Not a lot, but some.”
“I don’t know how you put up with living under someone’s thumb,” I said under my breath, picking through the clothes that Mercy brought. I couldn’t seem to move any faster than slow motion. It was like my center was completely off and my equilibrium disturbed, like I had vertigo not just physically but also mentally.
Mercy sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out a few shirts to fold. “Well, there’s a lot of good that comes from being part of a pack. When one is weak, the rest are strong. When one fights, we all fight. We share burdens and rewards alike.”
“Sounds like any other family,” I said. I didn’t look at either of them as I felt my emotions still teeter on the razor’s edge of unpredictable. And talking about how their pack supported each other just reminded me of what I didn’t have. “I don’t know that it’s worth having that jackass yell at you all the time.”
Henry rattled some pans in the kitchen, his attention carefully elsewhere as Mercy stood between us so I could pull on jeans and a T-shirt, and he sighed. “It’s hard to explain. The relationship isn’t something that exists elsewhere, at least that I’ve seen. He can take burdens for us, Deirdre. He shoulders the full weight of everyone else’s problems. He’s the one responsible for everything good and everything bad. When there is grief or pain or uncertainty, Evershaw takes that on so the rest of us can carry on until we’re able to take those burdens back. It’s worth it. And he is—unique.”
“That’s one word for it.”
My hair tangled when I ran my hands through it, the locks still a bit damp from my late shower, and Mercy handed me a hair tie so I could wrangle it back from my face. And I’d never admit it to any of them, but I could see the appeal if what Henry said was actually true. I couldn’t conceive of such a thing, of someone else taking over the grief and pain I felt so that I could handle it step-by-step. I certainly couldn’t imagine Evershaw being kind and sensitive enough to do such a thing for others when he clearly delighted in making everyone else as uncomfortable as possible.
Mercy went to the kitchen and made a plate for me filled with bacon and fresh biscuits and gravy and fruit, setting bowls and smaller plates out on the high counter near the kitchen. She poured fresh coffee and juice and even set out a few soda cans for me to choose from.
Joining a pack made sense just from the housekeeping and cooking perspective, if there was always someone else around to help with those. I could barely keep my head above water—and above the dust bunnies—when it came to chores and maintaining the creaky old house that I loved. I wouldn’t ever leave the house, at least until the sheriff came to evict me, but there were days when I knew I was crazy to keep putting more and more money and love into the old shack.
I propped my head up on my fist as I ate and inhaled as much coffee as possible, and both Mercy and Henry joined me for breakfast. No one spoke, but it wasn’t the silence of strangers. It was a companionable quiet of people who knew they had a job ahead of them and wanted to relax before we got back to business. It was almost enough to make my throat close with emotion once more.
But luckily for me and my composure, there wasn’t much time to sit about gathering moss. Just as I soaked up the last bit of gravy with a few bites of biscuit, Henry answered a call on his phone and tilted his head at the door. “Smith is back at the garage with the car. We should head that way soon, if you’re ready.”
I nodded and levered to my feet, though the bed nearby called my name more strongly than I thought possible. A full stomach was what had been missing when I tried to sleep in Evershaw’s guest suite. But I dragged myself after Henry, with Mercy on my heels, through the halls of the pack house. I hadn’t seen any of it on my way in, since I had a bag over my head, and just a few parts of it on the mind-bending tour Mercy gave me the day before, so it was a bit odd to see what was essentially a giant house with open halls and living areas but some private suites and apartments behind closed doors.
Not many people were up and about so early in the morning, but the gym we passed on our way to the garage was full of hearty men and a few women on the treadmills and lifting weights. No one bothered us as we walked, though I got a few curious looks, and I could finally relax a bit since it didn’t seem likely that Evershaw would bother himself with going down to the garage. He’d sit up in his empty suite waiting for word from Smith.
I clenched my jaw as we approached an enormous steel door on tracks so Henry could roll it aside and allow us out into a two-story garage with multiple bays and open spots in the floor for doing various automotive repairs and rebuilds. A few carcasses of muscle cars stood aside, covered in clear tarps, so there was plenty of room around a black SUV that must have been the contaminated vehicle that almost killed Evershaw.
I recognized the tall, lean figure that stood next to it, and wished I’d had more caffeine and a bit more time to compose myself, because there was a hell of a lot I had to say to the ErlKing. It would have been better to go in with some notes. As it was, I planted my hands on my hips and scowled as I approached, and hoped the first thing out of his mouth was an apology.
It wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t.
Smith looked as exhausted as I felt as he turned, though a tiny smile made me far less sympathetic to our shared misery. “Well, Deirdre. How are you enjoying your stay with the SilverLine pack?”
My eyes narrowed and a particularly nasty—but temporary—curse floated to the front of my thoughts. Before I could even breathe the first word, though, a nasty static buzzed all the way through me and knocked me back a step.
His smile twisted and his eyes took on a predatory, cunning light—and for a brief moment, it looked as though his pupils had turned vertical instead of round. Like a very old kind of evil that had resurfaced and covered itself in a veneer of civility. Just like Estelle had tried to warn me. “I wouldn’t recommend that, dear Deirdre. I would have been a fool not to have placed a protective spell along with the geas. You cannot harm me until your business with Evershaw is concluded.”
“And you certainly don’t believe yourself to be a fool,” I said quietly, though I wanted to point out to him the incredibly stupid thing he’d done in tying me to Evershaw against my will. “We shall see, won’t we?”
“We shall.” He left it at that, though his eyes remained troubling, and gestured instead at the SUV. “I would prefer if you examined the car before I render any opinion on the matter. That way my findings will not influence you.”
I exhaled in irritation and figured I’d have to do some work even though I only wanted to confirm whatever it was he said so I could go back to bed. And then eventually put my mental horsepower toward figuring out how to stop the poisoners, save Evershaw, and get free of the freaking geas before anyone in the coven found out about it. “Fine. Stay back. I wouldn’t want to be accused of accidentally trying to... influence you.”
Smith huffed a laugh and stepped away, and left me to face the SUV on my own. Even Mercy and Henry remained near the door, and the other mechanics and interested parties gave me at least ten feet of emptiness as they watched. I felt very much alone in a sudden deja vu moment, as if I’d always been that way and the sense of community with the pack was the glitch instead of the other way around.
Maybe Henry and Mercy were right. Maybe there was something to that pack stuff after all.
Chapter 23
Evershaw
Evershaw didn’t find any answers he liked when he spoke with Smith or Edgar Chase. Chase showed up at the pack house after hearing about what happened at the Council building, wanting to discuss the security tapes and possible culprits, so Evershaw called Smith up so they could all talk about it together just the one time. Evershaw hated wasting his time with rehashing the same conversation over and over and over. One and done, that was what he wanted.
Smith joined them in a small dining room off the main kitchen in the shared part of the pack house, not wanting too many other people to go traipsing into his quarters when it already smelled too much like the witch and half a dozen others. The old man looked pleased about something, which made Evershaw very nervous. “What’s the deal with the car? Did the witch look at it?”
“She’s evaluating it as we speak,” the old man said. He sipped his coffee, unperturbed, and even lifted his pinky just a hair as he did so—like he was inviting ridicule. Testing the waters. Checking for anyone aiming at an easy mark. Smith looked as serene as a sphinx. “I did not want to influence anything she might find, so this was an excellent time to step away. I expect she’ll be done by the time we wrap up here.”
“A witch?” Chase frowned slightly and leaned back in his chair. “Interesting. Is this the same one who freed you from wherever you were?”
“Yes,” Smith said. And that was all he said.
Chase looked at Evershaw. “So why is she here?”
“Smith called in a favor and the girl saved my life.” He really didn’t want to try and explain the witch to Chase. Or let Chase see the witch. She was just for Evershaw. She was a secret weapon he couldn’t afford to make known.
“And she’s living here now?” Chase glanced between them, not about to accuse them of anything but still really fucking suspicious.
“Yes,” Evershaw said.
Chase waited for either of them to go on, but when neither spoke, he sighed. “Right. Great. So there’s something else going on. If I go down there to look at that car, am I going to find a pissed-off witch ready to strike anyone who looks like a shi
fter?”
“Anyone male, I would guess,” Evershaw said. “But it’s a fifty-fifty chance she’d miss.”
Maybe.
Edgar’s eyes narrowed. “Fill me in.”
“It’ll keep,” Smith said. “We have the problem of the person—or persons—who are poisoning Evershaw.”
“The coyotes would make sense,” Chase said after a long pause. “But we couldn’t identify the two people screwing with your car. When you’re ready to release the SUV, we can try and lift fingerprints, but it looks as though they might have worn gloves from what we saw on the video. Anyone else in the running?”
“The new pack,” Evershaw said. “We’re meeting later this afternoon, so that’ll give me a chance to evaluate how surprised they are that I’m still alive. They haven’t called to cancel, but we’ll see.”
Smith rubbed his jaw, his attention drifting. “I did not get a sense of why the person chose to poison you from what was left in the car. They have covered themselves very well.”
Evershaw glanced at his watch and fought back irritation and the urge to get up and pace. He wanted to confront that little shit alpha of the RedCloud pack and have done with things, instead of waiting around and talking about it. Chase checked the time as well and slid his chair back from the table. “Keep me informed when you figure out who it is, and let us know if you need assistance. We would prefer to deal with the perpetrator as a Council, but I understand if you want to keep this under wraps.”
“I’m not interested in everyone knowing that I’ve been poisoned,” Evershaw said, his tone dry. “Since it might give people ideas.”