by Elle Thorne
The perp released a series of rounds.
Jonah collapsed.
Doherty stood watching. Smirk on his face.
Another team member, Rice, shot the perp.
And then Fiona’s eyes were riveted on Jonah.
Jonah—unmoving.
Jonah—with a pool of blood surrounding him.
And the pool grew.
And grew.
Her falcon circled, over and over, almost unable to process or do anything else. Her falcon wouldn’t stop shrieking, but the bird’s cries had nothing on the screaming Fiona emitted in the bird’s mind.
Chapter Six
Fiona couldn’t have said how she got to the ground, or how she shifted, or anything. All she remembered was one moment she was airborne, circling and soaring above a blood-covered Jonah, the next, she was in her human skin standing over him, issuing orders to the team from a portion of her brain clearly able to work. She had no clue what part of her mind was able to function because her thoughts were a scrambled mess that refused to form cohesive ideas.
Or so she thought.
The team didn’t seem to notice, because none of them were treating her as if she was a babbling jumbled moron. They jumped to do her bidding, following orders to a tee, staunching the blood flow on a hurt Jonah.
Jonah lay on the ground, pale, definitely not conscious. His eyes closed, his face not the dangerously angry man she’d seen the last twenty-four hours. He was the old Jonah, the one she’d wake up next to.
Except she knew he wasn’t. Her falcon screamed at Fiona that he was dying.
She turned to Rice, also a bear shifter, a grizzly. “Do we have a doctor? Someone who can help?”
“Why would he need a doctor? He can simply shift and heal. We’ll get him back to his place, though I’m not sure why he’s unconscious. His bear should have been able to keep him up until he shifted into a hibernation heal.”
Hibernation healing shifts—when a shifter was hurt, that shifter would turn to his animal spirit, shift, and fall into a deep sleep that would allow healing to take place.
Rice’s question about Jonah needing a doctor was valid, but that shrill voice in the back of Fiona’s mind kept saying he needed a shifter doctor.
Maybe her falcon was wrong. Maybe he needed to shift and heal. “Let’s get him home.”
Jonah groaned. He was in his bed, a bed she’d slid out of a few hours ago. She hastily sent the rest of the shifters out before they noticed her scent on his sheets.
The bleeding had stopped but she couldn’t awaken him to get him to shift. Something in her told her she couldn’t bring this up to the team. If they knew something was going on with Jonah’s bear, he could lose his position. She knew how much that mattered to him.
Her falcon picked up his pulse. It was weakening. The situation went from dire to desperate.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Jonah’s pockets had been emptied by one of the team members. She spied his phone on the nightstand and reached for it, hoping he hadn’t changed his password. She swiped the pattern across the glass screen and was rewarded with the unlocking of the screen.
She crumbled, dying a little inside, when she saw the picture of the two of them together as his wallpaper. That was the last picture they’d taken. She had the same one on her phone. Shoving the emotions aside, because by damn, she needed to focus on the task at hand, she searched for Isaac’s number and pressed the icon, putting the phone to her ear.
“What’s up, bro,” Isaac answered.
“It’s Fiona.”
“Okayyyy.” His tone carried uncertainty.
No surprise there, since she and Jonah weren’t together anymore. Since she shouldn’t even have Jonah’s phone.
“Jonah’s been hurt. I can’t get him to shift. I need your help. Or a doctor. Or something.”
“I’ll be right there.” Isaac ended the call.
Fiona stroked Jonah’s hair away from his face. “You need to wake up and shift.” She allowed three solitary tears to make their way down her cheek, one at a time, while she watched the love of her life.
His pulse was even weaker.
This isn’t happening.
A knock sounded at the door.
That was quick.
She ran for the door, flinging it open.
A woman stood before her. One she’d never seen.
Auburn hair framed a pale face. Startling green eyes were guarded by black-spiked, mascara-laden lashes. A smile vanished from scarlet lips.
“Who are you?” the woman said.
Something about the woman’s voice—it had an ethereal hollow quality to it.
Preternatural.
What was she? The tiny feathers on the back of Fiona’s neck ruffled. “Who are you?” she asked the woman in the forest green peasant top.
“I’m his…” The woman paused, looked behind Fiona, as if seeking Jonah, perhaps. “…his girlfriend.”
“I’m his boss.” The words could barely come out from the chalkiness in Fiona’s throat.
Why does he have a picture of us, yet a girlfriend?
“Why don’t I know about you?” she asked the woman, not noticing right away that the woman edged her way around her and was now in the room.
“Why don’t I?” Green eyes flashed as she stormed toward Jonah’s bedroom. “What’s wrong with him?”
Fiona frowned. She wasn’t comfortable with this woman. And there was something about her that made alarms go off. Big time.
The woman turned to look at her, supernatural eyes glowing.
Then it hit Fiona. “You’re a witch. Why would he be around a witch?”
“Only a witch can tell another witch. But you’re not one of the covens. No…” She studied Fiona. “But yes, oh, yes. You’re descended from witches.”
Fiona bit back a reaction. Keeping her face stoic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You should go.”
“Maybe you should.”
That’s fucking nervy. I bet I could take her. Unless she’s the kind that casts spells.
“Who’s this?” Isaac stepped in the open front door, followed by Cadence. “What’s going on, Fi?”
Fiona shrugged. “She said she’s his girlfriend.”
“He doesn’t have a girlfriend. Hasn’t since…”
He didn’t have to say it, she knew. He hadn’t had anyone since she left. It wasn’t surprising. She hadn’t had anyone either.
She heard a growling grumbling sound, and realized it was Isaac’s bear, growling at the woman.
“I’ll be across the street,” the emerald-eyed woman said to Fiona. “If you’d like to explore the matter further.”
What the fuck? Why would I want to talk about her being a witch? I’m not a witch anyway. Not really. Not exactly.
Panic set in. Panic and a serious desire to call her foster mother, Mae, who had adopted her when she was a homeless, little shifter, bound for the orphanage. Hence Fiona’s last name. She’d taken Mae’s.
The woman turned to leave, then did a 180 and cast a piercing stare on Fiona. “You should call her. She will tell you I can help Jonah. He’ll die otherwise. You know what I’m saying. You know about his bear.” Her eyes turned from a vibrant green to a darker shade, almost black.
“What the hell is she talking about?” Isaac said. “What’s she mean about my brother’s bear?”
Fiona’s throat worked. Her tongue moved, but words refused to form and come out. How did the witch know?
Isaac forged forward, Cadence as yet hadn’t said a word, her dark eyes absorbing everything. Fiona met Isaac’s new mate yesterday, but already she liked the spunky panther shifter.
Fiona followed Isaac and Cadence into the bedroom, but she knew it was futile. She had no doubt there was nothing he could do.
Isaac was checking his brother when Fiona’s falcon started to buzz in her mind, insisting she call Mae immediately.
She hustled toward the front door and slipped out of Jonah�
�s apartment, so she could have privacy and took her phone out of her pocket.
Mae answered on the first ring. “Fiona. Jonah’s in danger. You need to let Alannah help him.”
“That’s the green-eyed witch’s name?”
“Yes, she’s on your side. If there’s such a thing. Let’s say she will help you keep him alive.”
Fiona trusted Mae—implicitly. She’d always trusted her. Mae had after all, been the closest thing to a mother she’d known. “What’s happened, Mae?”
“His bear was taken by another witch. A curse was placed. Only another witch can remove it.”
“I can’t have him learning—”
“Fiona, what you do or don’t want him to know about your heritage takes a back seat to his health. That’s what you’re risking if you delay.”
“I’d never put my secret above his life. I’ll get the witch.”
“Alannah. Her name is Alannah Autumn. She’s your cousin, Fiona.”
“I don’t accept that part of me.”
“Take care of your mate” were Mae’s final words before she ended the connection.
He’s not my mate. Not anymore. Not since I found out I’m a witch.
Part witch her falcon reminded her.
Right. Part witch.
Fiona sprinted toward the stairway; she’d make better time running than waiting for an elevator.
It was no secret there was no love lost between shifters and witches. Witches were not accepted among shifters, and mating between the two was never to happen.
Shifter-witch unions typically ended in the mortality of all offspring, typically not making it out of the womb.
Fiona was a rarity. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t aware of her heritage until puberty.
Puberty, when things went haywire. Mae took her to a specialist in the shifter world who’d told Mae what Fiona was.
Fiona had been cautioned to keep it a secret.
Fiona hadn’t taken it seriously.
Until Jonah.
Until the baby.
Fiona shoved that train of thought aside. She had one mission now. One job.
Keep Jonah living.
Chapter Seven
Fiona stepped quickly toward the coffee shop. She’d almost reached the front door when a hand snaked out of the alcove and seized her wrist.
Drawing up short, Fiona pulled away, and with a twist, had the perpetrator on the ground in front of her, with her boot on her attacker’s throat.
“Alannah. What the hell. Don’t sneak up on me like that.”
Alannah pushed Fiona’s boot off and rose, taking Fiona’s outreached hand to pull herself up.
“I didn’t think you’d pull some kind of martial arts on me.”
“I’m a trained federal agent. Jeez. What did you expect?” She regarded the green-eyed woman cautiously. Mae had said she could trust her.
“Why does Mae trust you?”
“I’m trustworthy.”
“That’s no answer.”
“You want to sit here and debate the merits of my trustworthiness while your mate lies dying?”
He’s not my mate, not anymore. “No. Let’s go.” Fiona took off at a run, clutching Alannah’s coat in a white-knuckled grip.
Alannah kept pace with her.
“Why are you here?” Fiona panted out while she ran across the street. “This isn’t a coincidence, is it?”
“None of this is.”
Fiona caught herself almost stopping to interrogate Alannah and immediately picked up speed, opening the door and holding it for the witch.
“His bear. Your return. Orchestrated by Northfork.”
“Who is that?”
“It’s a what. It’s the coven we belong to. Twelve branches, each a family. Only one branch is missing a representative. And there is only one rep in that family that’s alive. Your aunt just died.”
“I had an aunt?”
“Yes. Her chair has to be filled. So all of this. Your transfer, his bear. All of it designed by Northfork to bring you to the coven.”
“I’m. Not. Even. A witch.”
“Yet” was the only response Alannah offered.
They shot out of the staircase and down the hallway to Jonah’s apartment.
“Can you save him?” Fiona asked her.
“I can. I will.”
“You’re sure?”
“This is why they sent me.” Alannah stopped in the middle of the hallway. “There’s a condition. You have to swear to it. If you don’t keep it, they’ll make the same thing happen again.”
“Fine. Whatever it is. I’ll do it.”
“You’ll have to give up your position with Unit 13. You’ll have to take your rightful spot in Northfork, to chair the Rathmore spot.”
“Can we go inside? I agree. Okay? I agree.”
Chapter Eight
Fiona pulled Isaac and Cadence out of the room. “Alannah says she needs privacy to help him.”
“Bull,” Isaac exclaimed, semi-softly, and yet he followed Fiona out of the room. That may have had something to do with Cadence tugging on his hand.
“Mae trusts Alannah.”
The thing Fiona hadn’t told him, but would have to deal with sooner or later: there was a price.
“She’s a witch.” Isaac leaned against the wall, his brows drawn into a downward vee. “What was that you said to her, I caught part of it. Something about his bear…”
“Yes, she’s a witch.”
“How did you know that?”
She knew what he was driving at. A witch knew another witch by instinct. Shifters couldn’t pick out witches. They could tell there was something different, but they couldn’t be sure. “She told me.”
Please let that answer suffice.
“Why would she do that?” Clearly it didn’t suffice.
“It’s a long story, Isaac. Am I really going to get into a long story with you while your brother is hurt?”
“Why hasn’t he shifted?” Isaac’s voice was laden with emotion, his tone strained.
“I don’t think he can.”
“Why not?”
Fiona wasn’t about to get into that. She’d made her deal. She’d sealed her fate. Her life for Jonah’s. Simple as that.
Doesn’t mean I’ll like it.
Fiona flinched and whirled around when the door to Jonah’s bedroom opened. Alannah gestured Fiona, Isaac, and Cadence into Jonah’s bedroom. Her face was pale and her hands shook so much she crossed them over her chest and tucked them under her armpits.
Jonah opened his eyes. The blue fire she’d always seen in the depths was diminished.
“My bear’s back.” His voice was weak.
Fiona’s heart broke. She was the reason he was in this situation. The witches did this to him to get her to comply.
All because a few fucking witches want me to carry on some family tradition.
She found herself hating witches.
Did they shoot him? Are they the reason he almost died?
She had questions she wanted answered. It would keep until she met the witches.
Alannah nodded “His bear is back. He needs to shift so he can heal.”
“Thank you,” Cadence said.
Behind her, Isaac nodded his thanks, suspicion in his eyes.
With a bone-crunching sound, Jonah shifted on his gigantic bed, taking his polar bear form.
In Fiona’s head, her falcon shrieked joyfully.
Jonah’s bear looked at Fiona—actually looked through Fiona, deep into her, at her falcon.
She wanted to tell her falcon to tell the bear goodbye, that she wouldn’t get to see him again, not after the promise Fiona had made, but she didn’t have the heart.
“Let’s go,” Alannah said.
“Now? I don’t get a moment? Nothing?”
Alannah shook her head.
Chapter Nine
Fiona got into the beat up VW van Alannah was driving.
“Where are we going? I need t
o pack. I need to talk to my boss. I need time to sort things out, leave my two weeks’ notice.”
“That’s not how they want it.”
Fiona gave her a dirty look, just as Alannah glanced in her direction.
“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I’m not on their side.”
“You’re here on their behalf. That puts you on their side.”
“I wish you didn’t think so. We’re distant cousins after all.”
“So you cast spells?”
“I’m trained.”
Fiona pushed her hair back and tried to ignore the screeching cautionary sounds her falcon made.
“Rathmore. That sounds familiar.
“Your family name. No one told you? Mae didn’t?”
“Mae tried to tell me about my past. I didn’t want to hear it.”
“The Northfork Coven is composed of thirteen witch families. The Rathmore branch is one of the original families. My family, the Belthune branch is another. Our great-great-great-somethings were sisters.”
“Will you tell me the truth?”
“I haven’t lied to you yet.”
“Jonah being shot…” Fiona didn’t want to finish the thought. It bothered her too much.
“That wasn’t exactly an accident.”
“Fuck.” Fury blossomed in Fiona. “Who… What…?”
“Don’t ask me for details. I don’t have them. I stayed ignorant in the planning. I was given my orders. I complied.”
Fiona leaned back as the city flew past them. She didn’t pay attention to where Alannah drove; her mind was still trying to absorb the day’s events.
Alannah pulled onto a side street well out of the city. New York was a sight of twinkling lights through the window.
The side street led to a private driveway with a rusted metal gate attached to a wall overgrown with ivy.
“This is… where?”
“Northfork.”
She looked at the dilapidated gate, the untrimmed ivy. “It looks abandoned.”
“It discourages visitors. The wrong kind.”
The gate creaked open, Alannah nosed the van in, then waited while the gate squeaked shut behind them. The area was thick with trees, except for a one car paved drive that separated the trees.