by Casey Wolfe
Rowan helped Shaw remove his shirt, tossing it aside. It revealed an array of tattoos previously hidden from view. Getting on the bed, Rowan threw his leg over Shaw to straddle his hips. “You have a lot of these,” he mused, tracing the tattoo over Shaw’s heart. It was a dragon skull with a dagger through it.
“I’ve been collecting them awhile.” Shaw took hold of Rowan’s shirt, so he bent forward to allow Shaw to remove it.
The tattoos on Shaw’s forearms caught his eye next. On the underside of each, there was a word printed in Runic: shadow and shield. Rowan’s fingers ran over the first one, feeling the tingle of magic in response.
“Mana-infused,” Shaw explained. Rowan nodded, knowing it was the sole way for non-mages to use spells. Typically, that meant magic scrolls, but in this case, it was placed directly into skin to use over and over again.
Shaw took Rowan’s necklace in hand, the blue crystal standing out against stark skin. “What’s this?”
Rowan closed his hand around the aqua aura crystal, its rough-cut state rubbing against callouses. “It’s a power charm,” he answered with a tilt of his head. “It was one of the first things I made on my own when I was younger.” He opened his hand, allowing Shaw to run his finger over the pendant and the silver wire that wrapped around it to hold it in place on its leather lanyard. “Never go anywhere without it.”
“It’s beautiful,” Shaw spoke softly. His gaze traveled from the necklace up to Rowan’s eyes. “Kind of like you.” Rowan felt his face heat up and Shaw chuckled in response. “What? No one ever tell you that before?”
“Been awhile,” Rowan admitted. “For a lot of things, in fact.” He was always so busy with his studies and the store that any boyfriend got put to the back burner. Not many seemed to appreciate that.
Smiling up at him, Shaw ran his fingers through Rowan’s hair. “I think we can fix that.” He tugged lightly, bringing Rowan down so their lips met again. Unlike their first kiss, rushed and heated, this was exploratory. An ember of desire traveled straight up Rowan’s spine, making him melt against Shaw.
Rowan felt tingling against his fingertips as they traveled over Shaw’s bare skin. Teeth tugged at his lower lip, drawing his attention. Rowan smiled against Shaw’s mouth, pressing against his touch. The hand running down Rowan’s spine caused a full body shiver. Everything seemed to light up along his nerve endings, pleasure seeping into every pore. Rowan sank into the sensation, allowing it to pull him under.
ROLLING OVER IN the morning, Shaw expected to find Rowan still in bed with him. Instead, he found Rowan sitting at the end of the mattress, studying something in his hand. Sitting up, Shaw stretched and grinned lazily. “Morning,” he said. When Rowan gave him a piercing look, Shaw’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”
“I knew you were too good to be true.” Rowan tossed what he was holding onto the bed. It was Shaw’s ID. “Human,” Rowan said flatly. “That’s what it says, but I don’t buy it. I know magic when I feel it.”
Shaw felt his mouth go dry. “What are you—?”
“I don’t know how you did it, or why, but I’m not about to stick around to find out.”
Shaw snagged Rowan’s hand when he stood. “Wait, wait! I can explain, okay?” Rowan gave him a long hard look, but when he didn’t try to escape, Shaw took it as a sign to continue, carefully releasing him. “The how is complicated. It involves bribery, a lot of groundwork, and plenty of practice concealing myself. Though, apparently not well enough to fool you.”
“What are you?” Rowan was guarded, and Shaw couldn’t exactly blame him.
“A witch,” Shaw admitted. Unlike mages, witches were born with one particular magical ability. They were also of the mental variety—clairvoyance, telepathy, and the like. “I’m an empath.”
Rowan actually growled—a thing he most likely picked up from Caleb—and backed away. “So, you manipulated me,” he accused. “You tricked me into coming here. Into…”
“No, not at all,” Shaw quickly reassured him, getting out of bed. “I can only influence. I can’t force someone to do anything against their free will.” Shaw tried to move closer, but with every step he took, Rowan retreated. Holding his palms up, Shaw pointed out, “Like the day we met. I compelled you to calm down so that bullshit with Dansforth didn’t get worse.”
Rowan’s nostrils flared as Shaw tried to do the same thing again. “Don’t even!”
“Rowa—”
“No!”
Magic crackled in the air, a witch like Shaw able to pick up on it. Even if he was a mundane, Rowan’s glowing eyes would have given it away. Shaw held up his hands again in a show of peace.
“Why?” Rowan demanded. “Why hide? Why work for the Inquisition?”
Shaw worked his jaw back and forth, knowing Rowan wouldn’t like his answer. It was the one he had to give. “That’s my business.”
“Bullshit!” Rowan spat. “That’s not the way this works.”
Shaw knew that it was likely impossible to have a relationship going forward like that. Still, all he could offer was “I can’t tell you.”
As expected, Rowan looked anything but pleased. “Forget it,” he snarled, shaking his head. Rowan headed for the door.
When Shaw went to follow, Rowan whirled on him. A force field of energy hit Shaw, slamming him back into the wall. Its spell didn’t release until the front door shut behind Rowan. Shaw crumpled to the ground as the pressure lifted, his lungs fully inflating once again.
“Damn it,” he hissed. He didn’t know why Rowan’s rejection stung so much, but he couldn’t let it lay like this.
Shaw was completely unaware of his actions until his phone was already ringing in his ear. When Thalanil’s voice came over the line, he couldn’t say he was surprised. “Hey,” Shaw greeted softly. “How’re things?”
“You okay?” Thalanil deflected, concern lacing his voice.
“Yeah, Mum. I’m fine.”
Thalanil snorted.
“I, uh, I might be compromised. Not entirely sure.”
“Then get your ass back here,” Thalanil ordered. “We can’t take that chance.”
“Not with the targets,” Shaw explained. “It’s… There’s this guy I met. A mage.”
“Oh, hell.” Thalanil sighed. “What have you done, Shaw?”
“Oi! It’s not my fault!” Shaw ignored the scoff. “And I believe I asked how you guys were.”
“Last mission went fine. Rhys is gonna send us out again in a couple weeks. I’ll send you the encrypted data.” Shaw wouldn’t argue as they were far from being on a secure channel.
“But how are you?” Shaw pressed. “How’re they holding up?”
“About as well as you’d expect.”
Shaw didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Hold on.” There was noise on the other end Shaw couldn’t make out. “Alright, alright,” Thalanil laughed. Back on the phone, he said, “Orion says ‘Hi’ and ‘We miss you.’” Thalanil laughed even more. “Oh, and ‘Hurry back already.’”
There was no helping the smile that came to Shaw’s face, momentarily forgetting his growing array of problems. “I miss you guys too.”
Chapter Four
ROWAN WAS SITTING on the stool behind the shop’s counter, leg bouncing a little. An elbow rested on the counter, his other hand turning the pages of the book he was perusing. The bell above the door chimed, grabbing Rowan’s attention. He froze when he saw who it was.
Shaw’s eyes locked onto his, hesitating before coming inside all the way. “Hey,” Shaw greeted, walking up to the counter.
Rowan wasn’t exactly thrilled to see him. After what happened two days ago, he didn’t figure he could be blamed either. “Can I help you with something?” he managed to ask with forced politeness, gaze shifting away from Shaw.
“I, uh, I wanted to apologize for what happened.”
“I don’t want your—”
“I also wanted to see if you could make a few charms for me.”
Rowan’s teeth clicked together audibly. A customer was a customer, and he couldn’t exactly turn one away. Still, he was a little suspicious on the timing. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Shaw rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “I need four. They’re for my old squad.”
That piqued Rowan’s interest and he sat up a little straighter. “Your squad? You were military?”
There was no hiding the pride that filled Shaw at that. “Spec ops for Calagon, stationed out of Tolhallow.”
“Spec ops?” Rowan was impressed. He recalled the conversation they had at the bar, though, and lowered his brows. “Didn’t you say you were law enforcement?”
“Was,” Shaw replied. “After I left them. Don’t really like to talk about it.” He shifted uncomfortably, rolling his shoulder.
The motion drew attention to Shaw’s chest, and Rowan tapped his own as he said, “Your tattoo.”
“The division emblem.”
Rowan had wondered about the tattoo’s origin. Granted, he was too focused on other things at the time to get further into it. The man had been quite distracting, in fact. The thought twisted Rowan’s lips upward for a moment before he caught himself. Clearing his throat, Rowan inquired, “So, what is it you were looking for?”
“They’re gonna be deployed again soon,” Shaw replied, brows drawing together. “Don’t like not being there, but my miss— My reason for leaving… They understand.” Shaw looked at him, tongue swiping nervously over chapped lips.
Rowan watched him carefully. There was something else Shaw was hiding, but Rowan couldn’t begin to guess what. Shaw was worried about his friends, that much was clear. Perhaps he knew the details and was simply trying to respect the secrecy their job entailed—or maybe he knew nothing at all, and that made him all the more concerned.
Picking his battles, Rowan prompted, “You want them to have extra protection.”
Shaw nodded, taking a deep breath and allowing the tension to bleed out.
“I assume you don’t want a run-of-the-mill charm.” Rowan pulled some parchment from under the counter. “Otherwise, you could pick those up almost anywhere.”
“I want protection on them, yeah, but I figured to make it more personal than that.”
“Enchantments related to their jobs specifically, their skill sets.” Rowan pulled his quill and inkpot over.
“Exactly.”
Rowan glanced up to find Shaw smiling, that same bright and open one he remembered from the bar. He cleared his throat and reminded himself to focus. “Well, I can certainly do that.” He rubbed the phoenix feather quill between his fingers, little sparks coming off as it spun back and forth. Shaw eyed it carefully but didn’t comment. “The more I know about them, the more effective I can make the charms. Pictures and personal items help too.”
“You meditate on the person the charm’s meant for?” Shaw rested his hand on the counter, close to where Rowan’s sat holding the quill. There was almost a tangible spark in the air at the proximity, Rowan concentrating on not giving into the temptation to reach out for the source.
“I do,” he finally replied, hoping Shaw missed his hesitation. Rowan licked his lips before focusing on the task at hand. “Who do you want to start with?”
“How about Thalanil? He’s team lead now. An elf from the Redwood. He’s also the best sniper in the entire division.”
Rowan chuckled. “Bold words, I’m sure.”
Shaw smirked. “Oh, he can back it up. Might barely be past his first century, but I’d put money on ’im. Also has a thing with throwing daggers.”
Rowan nodded, marking it all down. “Next?”
“Well, that would have to be Orion. He and Thal are mates. He’s a Redwood Pack werewolf.”
Rowan stopped writing midsentence. “You just said a lot of things that I’m not sure go together.”
Shaw laughed. “Right?”
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the Redwood Pack—?”
“Feral? Ruthless? Devoid of pretty much any interaction with anyone else? Yup.”
Well, chalk one up for Caleb’s were-creature intel, Rowan thought sarcastically. “There’s also the fact I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an elf getting mated to a wolf before.”
“Believe it. It’s something to see. They’re full-on mated the elven way, too—soul bonded and all.” Shaw frowned, fingers drumming on the counter. “Their anniversary is coming up soon, actually. Doesn’t look like I’m gonna be there.” Softer, to himself, Shaw added, “Five years already? Has it already been that long?”
Rowan didn’t reply, instead, he dipped his quill to continue his notes.
Shaw leaned over and furrowed his brows at the runes he saw instead of script. “Do you always write in Runic?” he inquired.
“A habit I picked up during my apprenticeship. At first it was to protect my grimoire from prying eyes, but I find it nice to use to protect client information as well.” He was perhaps a little paranoid of somebody stealing his notes. Wards only did so much and those at the shop were basic ones that wouldn’t do anything against a physical break-in.
“But, anyone who studied Runic could translate it,” Shaw reasoned. “Even a mundane.”
Rowan’s smirk was borderline cocky. “Who said it was translated from Standard?”
Shaw’s eyes widened a little. “So, you’re translating into another language before putting it into Runic? How many languages do you know?”
“Including Standard and Runic? Four.”
“Well, at least I don’t have many to sift through if I want to learn all your hidden secrets,” he teased in turn, pulling a smile from Rowan’s lips. Leaning forward onto his forearms, Shaw said, “There’s that smile I like so much.” Rowan felt the blush color his cheeks. Not commenting, he shifted the topic back on course. “I believe you were about to tell me about the third team member.”
Shaw allowed the deflection. “That would be Keenan. He’s the resident battlemage. Primal and summoning magic are his specialty. He has a thing for glamours too.”
With little effort, Shaw braced his hands on the counter and popped up, twisting around to land his butt right on the surface. He smiled down at Rowan who rolled his eyes in turn. “That leaves us with Haxos,” Shaw continued. He paused for dramatic effect, Rowan raising a meaningful brow. “Centaur.”
That certainly surprised Rowan. “You got a centaur to leave his herd?”
“Not sure on the details of how, just that he’s one of three the herd gave up to be soldiers. He’s the demolitions expert. And, as you can imagine, he’s pretty handy in a brawl.” Shaw thought a moment. “Think you can add something so he isn’t such a pain in the ass?”
Rowan snorted, shaking his head. “I’m afraid there isn’t much to do about that.” Before he could filter the comment, he added, “I can only influence. Not make someone into what they’re not.”
“Pfft, thanks,” Shaw grumbled.
When Rowan peeked up at him, he found Shaw appeared amused at having his own line turned against him. A self-satisfied smile crossed Rowan’s face while jotting down the last bit of information he needed. Focus, you idiot. Shaw’s proximity was enough to be distracting, and it was making Rowan forget about the fact he was meant to be angry with him.
Getting back on track, Rowan inquired, “Do you have any pictures of them?”
Shaw brought up a group photo on his phone and passed it over to Rowan. They were dressed in black combat gear, covered in mud. Shaw pointed out each member in turn, all of them rather attractive in their own right. Orion was glued to Thalanil’s side, grinning from ear to ear while Thalanil looked tired but pleased. Keenan’s arm was slung around Haxo’s shoulder as he flashed the camera a peace sign, Haxos’s face set in stone. Last was Shaw, his arm thrown across the shoulders of a sixth member, the man laughing with his arm around him as well.
“Who’s that?” Rowan asked when Shaw didn’t introduce him.
“Marcus. Vampire.”
“Doesn’t believe in charms?” Rowan guessed. It was an honest question, as vampires were typically a superstitious bunch—an ingrained fear from long ago when their race was still hunted.
“He’s gone” was all Shaw said, taking his phone back and looking away.
Rowan sensed the heaviness in the air, deciding it best to leave alone. Instead, he looked down at the list. “Do you need one too?”
Shaw shook his head. “I’m fine. It’s them I’m worried about.” After a moment he hopped off the counter, shaking off his earlier funk at the mention of Marcus. “So, how long do you think it will be?”
“I can do them now.” Rowan stretched as he stood. “As long as I have everything I need, that is.”
Shaw’s head snapped around to look at him. “Shouldn’t you be busy? I expected to wait a couple weeks, at least.”
Rowan brushed it off, turning to look at the rows of shelves behind him. “I have a few orders at the moment, but those are all on hold until I get additional ingredients.” He glanced over his shoulder. “You can hang out if you want. If you’re busy, leave your number and I’ll let you know when they’re ready.”
“I can stay.”
Rowan slipped down the first aisle between the shelves, feeling Shaw’s gaze trailing him. There were crow feathers down there somewhere. There you are, Rowan thought, spying one sticking out from a drawer higher up. Rather than using a ladder, he simply blew out of his lips, watching as the feather wafted upward like it was caught by a breeze before drifting down into his hand. It was followed by a second.
When Rowan placed them on the counter, he noted Shaw’s expression. “What?” Rowan asked, barely managing to keep it innocent. He turned around before his face broke into a grin. He would show Shaw just what he was made of.
Rolls of fabric ribbon filled a drawer and he grabbed the royal blue immediately. He hemmed and hawed over the others, trying to think of the proper corresponding color meanings that he wanted to use. He pulled out a roll of gray and a shade of dark purple, levitating all of them over to the counter. He grabbed a spool of leather cord from a cubby and snagged the bucket that held his paints on the way by.