Feral Magic

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Feral Magic Page 11

by Tate James


  “What’s he doing?” I whispered. Why I was whispering, I had no idea. It just sort of felt right for the situation.

  Hunter was the one who answered me, leaning forward to speak just as quietly. “He’s checking for signs of Bast’s followers. If it had just been regular vandals, the wards wouldn’t have all been disabled. They never should have gotten within three feet of the door.”

  I frowned, rubbing my forehead. “I thought the wards kept those Bast-ards away, not normal people. I’m confused.”

  Both Hunter and Boden gave me apologetic smiles.

  “It’s a lot to wrap your head around in three days,” Boden acknowledged. “When we’re out of immediate danger, we can try and get you some books to study. For us, this is all second nature. We grew up in the Alliance, so this has been our lives for as long as we can remember.”

  Raze reappeared right beside the van, and I squeaked with fright.

  “I need to put a bell collar on you or something,” I grumbled as he climbed back into the car.

  Boden didn’t wait for Raze’s report before pulling back into the street and heading away from the “safe” house.

  “Definitely Bast’s doing,” the sullen brunet informed us as he rebuckled his seat belt. We’d all learned the hard way after Candy Jack’s crash, and I hadn’t failed to notice everyone was being conscientious about buckling up. “Her symbols were sprayed on the grass around every ward point. They must have thought we were there already to put so much effort into breaking in.”

  “Huh?” I spun around to look at him, confused. “But that looked like it’d been vandalized weeks ago.”

  Raze shook his head. “Staged. Could have only happened last night.”

  I glanced at the clock on the dash to find it was almost dawn. Holy cats, my body clock was all kinds of messed up.

  “Good thing we stopped at the motel, then,” Hunter commented, then shot me a lust-filled grin. “In more ways than one.”

  Raze let out a grunt of disgust from the back row of seats and rolled his eyes. “Fucking Ra save me, I know I’m going to regret this...” He drew a long breath in and released it heavily. “We can go to my house. Even Bast isn’t brave enough to attack us in the middle of a shifter reservation, and it’s only an hour from here.”

  Boden shot Raze a sharp look in the mirror, frowning a little. “Are you sure? We can just keep going through to the next-closest house.”

  “Which is another ten hours away,” Raze pointed out. “It’s fine.” It did not sound fine. “I’m sure Maeve and the girls would love to see you two, anyway.”

  I didn’t miss the emphasis he put on “two” there.

  “Uh, am I understanding this right?” I stage-whispered to Hunter. “Did Raze just say—”

  “Don’t make a thing of it, Maggie,” Raze snapped, cutting me off. “We’ll stay one night to restock and regroup. If that works for you, boss?” This was aimed at Boden, who nodded.

  Nothing I could say was going to improve the conversation, so I sank back into my seat and wished I had more coffee. That first one was long gone, and I was craving more.

  Tension lay thick in the car, and I knew it was because of me. Raze was about to introduce me—object of all his troubles—to his wife and kids.

  Something told me that, despite the fact that it was a marriage of paperwork and not “love,” it still wasn’t going to end well.

  Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

  Chapter Twelve

  I had no idea what I expected a shifter reservation to look like. A friend that Meg and I had hung out with as kids had been an eighth Native American and lived with her grandmother on tribe land. But from what I’d seen, it was just a gathering of houses. Not like teepees or anything stereotyped like that.

  Other than being a badass basket weaver, Patricia had just been a normal kid like me and Meg. Or... like Meg. It was quickly becoming clear that I was far from normal.

  But this was a shifter reservation, so I was throwing all expectations out the window. Until we pulled up outside a pretty, craftsman style house with meticulously maintained gardens.

  “Um... this is your house?” I blurted out, shooting a baffled look at Raze, who glared back at me.

  “What were you expecting, Mags? A teepee tent with people dancing around a fire?” His sneer told me clearly he thought I was making racial stereotypes, and my jaw flapped.

  “What? No! That’s not—Ugh! That’s not what I meant, Raze, you assface! I just meant it’s a really pretty house.” My cheeks were so hot with indignation that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was showing. “I’ve been on normal reservations before, I just haven’t been to a shifter one.”

  The suspicious narrowing of his eyes said he wasn’t buying my excuses. “Oh, I see. So I’m not allowed to live in a pretty house. Real inclusive, Margaret.”

  “What the hell?” I exclaimed, “I was complimenting your house, you deranged psychopath!”

  “Okay,” Boden interjected, “let’s just retreat to our corners and save this argument for later. Look.” He nodded to the front porch of the house where two dark-haired girls had just spilled out and were running toward our stolen minivan.

  Raze shot me one last glare, then hopped out of the van and swept the girls up in a huge hug. The kids squealed their excitement, and I caught a rare flash of genuine happiness on Raze’s face before he turned his back on us to head into the house.

  “Cute kids,” I murmured, trailing behind Boden as he led the way up the flower-lined path to the house.

  Hunter snorted a laugh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sounded jealous.”

  I scoffed so hard at that suggestion that I practically choked on my own spit. “Jealous? Not a chance in Egyptian Hell! This Maeve is welcome to him and all his surly bullshit. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

  “Egyptian Hell?” Hunter repeated, teasing. “Is that a place?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure it is. Wouldn’t you guys know?”

  We’d reached the front porch, and a dark-haired beauty stood there, leaning on the doorway. Actually, that didn’t do her justice. She was cats-damned stunning. Like she’d stepped straight off the pages of a women’s magazine. Not a trashy one, something classy with thick pages and a satin finish. Homes and Gardens maybe.

  “Boden, Hunter, I’ve missed you troublemakers,” she greeted the guys with genuine warmth, hugging each of them and kissing their cheeks before turning her almond eyes to me. “You must be Margaret,” she stated, and I cringed.

  “Cleo,” Boden corrected her, and she gave a small, confused frown.

  “Margaret is my legal name, but I haven’t used it since I was five,” I explained, trying to smooth over the awkward moment.

  Hunter made an annoyed sound. “Raze probably left that part out because he’s a dick!” he yelled the end of that sentence, probably intending for Raze to hear him, but Maeve scowled and swatted his arm with her hand.

  “Language,” she admonished. “But anyway, it’s lovely to meet you, Cleo.” Her gaze traveled over me from my hot pink hair to my many tattoos, my awkward truck-stop outfit, and my chipped glitter nail polish before smiling again, this time with less warmth. “I look forward to getting to know you. After all, you’re going to be a permanent fixture in our lives while my husband remains your guardian.”

  Me-ow! This non-shifter kitty had claws. Neither of the guys seemed to notice the inflection she dropped onto the words while and husband, but I wasn’t fooled. This bitch wanted me gone. Long gone.

  Boden laughed easily, following her as she led us through to the kitchen. “Oh, he’s your husband now, huh? Last time we saw you, he was any number of names that I won’t say in front of your kids.” He gave her a teasing smile, and her cheeks pinked in the delicate sort of way no one should be allowed.

  “Things change, Bo.” She turned, folded her arms over her chest, and leaned her butt on the counter. “I guess you’re looking for a place to stay while yo
u sort out your trouble?”

  Was it my imagination, or did she look at me when she said “trouble”?

  “Just one night,” Boden assured her. “We’ve run into some trouble with the Bastites.”

  She raised her brows in surprise. “So soon? Raze called me the other night to tell me about Margaret but didn’t mention cultists.”

  Okay, the use of my hated given name was not an accident. This bitch was testing my patience.

  “He lost his phone when they ran us off the road. It’s been a rough couple of days,” Boden admitted, running a hand through his hair. “We just need twenty-four hours to regroup, check in with the big cats, and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

  Her lips tightened, and I suspected she badly wanted us to be gone... but not if it meant Raze left with us. “Of course,” she finally murmured. “My home is yours. I need to get the girls to school and then head to work. You know where everything is?”

  “We got this, Maeve,” Hunter replied with an easy smile. “Promise not to burn your house down while you’re gone.”

  Both Boden and I cringed at his poor choice of words, but Maeve just gave us a suspicious frown before heading outside to wrangle her kids. They were out on the lawn behind the house, which led down a gentle slope to the shore of a peaceful lake.

  “Cleo-babe,” Hunter said, nudging me. “I’ll show you around. You can sleep with me tonight if you want. I promise not to take up the whole bed again.”

  “No,” Raze snapped, appearing from freaking nowhere again and startling me. “You’re not fucking our amulet bearer right under the Alliance’s nose. That’s asking for trouble, dipshit.” He flicked Hunter in the head, but instead of reacting badly, Hunter just sighed and shrugged.

  “Worth a try,” he told me with a cheeky wink, then headed up the wooden staircase.

  “Follow me,” Raze ordered me, starting up the stairs himself.

  I risked a glance back at Boden, but he just watched me with a totally unreadable expression. Obviously I wasn’t dumb enough to think he didn’t know Hunter and I had fucked. He was awake the whole time, and I don’t think I’d been particularly quiet...

  Boden met my curious gaze, tilting his head to the side as though questioning what was going on in my head. I was just about to blurt it all out, too, until—

  “Maggie!” Raze barked from the top of the staircase. “Quit eye-fucking the boss and hurry up. I have shit to do today.”

  Cowed, I ducked my head and hurried up the stairs to where he was waiting, then followed him down to a tidy bedroom decorated in grays and blues.

  “Bathroom is across the hall. If you need anything else, ask the guys.” He delivered the words with absolutely zero emotion, then spun around to leave.

  “Hold up,” I said, stopping him in the doorway. “Am I some sort of prisoner here? It’s, like, breakfast time; you don’t seriously expect me to just go to bed?”

  He turned back around, stepping toward me in a move that was undoubtedly intended to intimidate me with his size. Hah, joke’s on him; that shit was a turn on for me.

  Wait.

  “Prisoner? Not at all, Mags. You’re just not permitted to leave this house until I say so. Clear?” His smile was more predatory than kind.

  I glared up at him. Way up. Damn, he was tall.

  “That’s pretty much the definition of prisoner, dumbass.”

  He just shrugged. “Whatever you want to call it. Don’t leave the house, and whatever you do”—he leaned down close, adding extra oomph to his words—“try not to break any more sacred laws. No matter how greedy your cunt gets.”

  I gaped in shock, and it took me a few moments to come up with a golden comeback. Sadly, those few moments were all the time Raze needed to storm out of the room and slam the door in my face.

  Fucking pussy-ass bitch.

  So, despite my bluster with Raze, I was genuinely tired as shit. Shocking, I know. It was crazy what two... or was it three?... days on the run would do to a girl. I could safely say I’d done more physical exercise since meeting the guys than in my entire freaking life.

  These thoughts echoed around my head after I woke from an extended nap and took another long shower. I scrubbed my hair with the pretty-smelling shampoo I found on the shelf, but it didn’t look like I was getting any more color out. Fucking pink dye.

  “Hey,” I greeted the guys when I came downstairs and found them out the back, drinking beers. “Uh, any chance I could borrow some of Maeve’s clothes?” I directed my awkward question at Raze, who was glaring at me with an intensity that could set shit on fire. “My other outfit is a bit gross.”

  He didn’t answer me for a long time. Like... an uncomfortably long time. Just stared.

  “Here,” Hunter finally responded instead. “We grabbed you some fresh stuff from the store. Figured Maeve’s stuff would practically drown you.” He grabbed me by my hand and tugged me back inside the house, where I spotted a shopping bag sitting on the kitchen island.

  “Thanks, Croc.” I grinned at him, taking the bag and then casting a look back outside to where Raze and Boden sat talking. “What’s his problem?” I asked softly. “I know we argue, but I’m not exactly here by choice either. He’s glaring at me like I’m half dog or something.”

  Hunter looked confused by my question, followed my line of sight, then snorted a laugh. “Raze? Uh, babe... he’s not glaring.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “Are you blind? I asked him a question—politely, I might add—and he couldn’t even respond. Just glared like he wanted me to spontaneously combust and solve all his problems.”

  Hunter really was laughing now, and I was getting a bit ticked off at him.

  “Cleo-babe,” he chuckled, running his hands down my sides, then lifting me onto the counter so we were slightly closer in height. “Sweetheart, he wasn’t glaring.” Hunter dropped a teasing kiss on my lips, his warm hands still holding my hips and practically burning me through the dark, silken robe I wore.

  “Oh no?” I scoffed. “Maybe he just had a stroke and couldn’t move his face, then?”

  Hunter was still grinning as he nudged my knees open and stepped closer. “Babe, he wasn’t glaring, he was staring.” He paused for dramatic effect, and I waited for the other shoe to drop. “Because you just came outside all fresh-smelling and damp from the shower, wearing nothing but a robe. His robe.”

  I blinked at Hunter a couple of times, then shook my head. “What? No, this was hanging in the room he—” Realization dawned, and I groaned. “He put me in his room?”

  Hunter snickered and leaned in to kiss my neck.

  “But why?” I demanded. “Where is he planning on sleeping?”

  “Probably on the couch,” Hunter murmured. “Or Maeve would happily let him in her room if he gave a flicker of interest.”

  Hunter had somehow slipped a hand inside my robe and was sneaking it up my inner thigh, and it was taking way too much effort not to jump his bones. It didn’t help that I could feel the telltale tingles and the fuzzy focus associated with his ability creeping over me.

  “Well, now I feel bad,” I sighed. “And I definitely can’t fuck you on his kitchen counter. Scat!” I swatted him on the arm, gently, and he reluctantly stepped back to let me down. “I’ll get dressed. Grab me a drink, and I’ll join you outside. Unless you’re talking official business that I’m not privy to?”

  I had intended it as a joke, but Hunter took me seriously. “Nah, we’re done with that part, you’re good to join us.”

  Cheeky shit that he was, he gave me a playful ass grab as I brushed past him with my bag of clothes. Holy cats, I wanted to change my mind and strip Raze’s fucking robe off right then and there...

  But that seemed super disrespectful, and as much as we had our issues, I still had some boundaries.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Okay,” I said, flicking the tab on my beer to open it before taking a long sip. We were seated on the lawn in front of the lake, and I was cozy in m
y new clothes. The sizes had been spot on, right down to the bra and panties—a feat not even I could manage—so I was crediting Hunter with that one.

  He had good taste too. Acid-washed skinny jeans with designer rips, a soft, black tank top, and a gunmetal gray cashmere coat. There were other pieces in the bag, too, and it must have cost a small fortune.

  Not that I was complaining. They kind of owed me after totaling Candy Jack, right?

  “Okay?” Boden repeated, kicking back in his own lawn chair.

  “Oh, uh…” I startled, realizing I’d just gotten lost in my own thoughts. “I have questions.” I paused, but none of the three guys spoke to stop me. “Firstly, uh...”

  I paused again. For reals, I had just expected to say, “I have questions,” and then one of them would cut me off with the information they were willing to provide. Then we’d go from there. I hadn’t actually prepared, well, any questions.

  I’d make such a sucky urban fantasy heroine.

  “Go on,” Boden encouraged, and I huffed. Okay, what questions did I have?

  “Umm,” I hedged, taking another sip of my cold beer while I thought.

  Raze snorted a sarcastic laugh, but when I shot him a glare, he was oh-so-innocently sipping his own drink. Fucker.

  “Okay, let’s start with this. How come I’ve never seen or heard of Bast and her little minions in my entire life, and then the second I hook up with you three—boom, there they are, trying to kill us.” I directed my question at Boden because, let’s face it, he was totally in charge of our merry band of misfits. “Explain that to me.”

  Boden exchanged a quick look with the other boys. “So, we think they might have been following us. It all seemed really coincidental that they would find you so quickly after we had. There are some assets in the Alliance who set us in the right place at the right time to meet you, so it stands to reason they might have had someone watching us.” He spread his hands a bit apologetically. “That’s our best theory at the moment.”

 

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