“Well, she’s definitely been here recently enough. There’s a fuck ton of plants in there and they’re all thriving.”
“Aw, thank you,” a feminine voice called out from the wooded area behind the house, startling all three of us. “Most witches have a naturally green thumb, or at least they seem to. Me, on the other hand, I’ve struggled for so long to keep even the most hardy of plants alive. It’s a shame, really. I’m a disgrace to witches everywhere, but luckily, I am still close to my sister who remains willing to care for my plants so that I can maintain fresh supplies for spells when I need them. Anyway, may I ask why there are three shifters peeping through my windows when I’m not home? Do you do this often, or are we first time voyeurs?”
The woman standing before us, who had bridged the gap of space between us while she’d been talking, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her dark brown, almost black hair cascaded down in waves, stopping just below her breasts. Her large, enchanting eyes were the color of sweet honey and they felt like home. She was wearing burnt orange colored corduroy pants and a long, billowy, floral-patterned top that made her appear more ethereal than she did naturally. I didn’t even realize none of us had verbally responded to the woman standing before us until she started giggling.
“Okay, well I might regret letting three weirdos into my home, but since you’re already here, and you all seem more afraid of me than I am of you, I’m going to do it anyway. Don’t be heathens. Take your shoes off at the door and be sure to talk to the bird on your way in. She gets very upset when guests come into her home and don’t acknowledge her.” With that, the witch walked past us and into her house, leaving us all to pick our jaws up off of the ground and follow her. I couldn’t have explained my lack of words if I tried, but there was something simultaneously stunning and inviting about her. All of my concern and worry surrounding what she would be like faded away when I crossed the threshold into her home.
The front door opened up into a gorgeous sitting room, which sported a forest green accent wall and golden-yellow velvet couches surrounding an earthy, stone fireplace. As promised, there were plants everywhere. In the bay window beside the fireplace was a rather large indoor herb garden containing lavender, sage, basil, and lemongrass, just to name a few. The walls were adorned with both black-and-white, and full-color photographs of other beautiful women, all similar in appearance to the woman who’d just welcomed us into her home. In the corner of the room, on the other side of the fireplace sat an intricate Victorian era bird cage with a rather large black bird inside. As instructed, I made my way over to the bird after taking a brief moment to process my surroundings. The bird cocked her head to the side as I approached, as if she were taking the time to size me up the way I did with her home.
“Hello, sweet bird. You are just beautiful, aren’t you?” I spoke softly, lifting my palm to the cage and allowing her to sniff me, all the while, the witch who’d taken her seat on the smallest couch, watched our interaction.
“She likes you. That may bode well for you and whatever favor you came here to ask of me,” she stated matter of factly, as if she already knew exactly why we were there.
“Is she your familiar?” Brace asked curiously, attempting to drive her attention away from me, but failing. Without looking away from me, the woman snorted, which dissolved into a fit of laughter, leaving us all confused as she tried to contain her amusement.
“So you’re not very familiar with witchcraft then, I take it?” She asked rhetorically, emphasizing the word ‘familiar’ indicating her play on the word. “Our companions are not familiars just because they reside with a witch instead of a mortal. I do have a familiar that helps me with my magic from time to time, but they do not belong to me. A familiar’s work is dark and dangerous, and, while I love having my dearest Emily near me while I’m practicing, I wouldn’t want her to have to bear the burden that comes with being my official helper.” She smiled lovingly at her bird and with every passing moment, I was feeling more safe and comfortable in her home. I cleared my throat and decided to backtrack to smaller talk.
“What is your name?” I asked. She beamed at me.
“My name is Cannon. Now, tell me how you ended up on my doorstep without even knowing my name.” Her tone was more indicative of curiosity than anger.
“We’re here because Solarin is dead.” Knowing from the intel Raven gave us that they knew each other, I paused to allow time for Cannon’s reaction. When she gave none, I proceeded with my story.
“She had been protecting me before her death, and I came here hoping that you could help me, being that she no longer can.” We sat in silence for a few moments while she digested the new information I’d provided.
“Was it her smart mouth that got her killed, or was it her brother?” she asked. With my peripheral vision, I caught Bomb and Brace exchanging glances of shared shock at her question.
“A bit of both, I’m sure.” I answered. “She helped her brother kidnap shadow cats, and she was in the middle of attempting to destroy one of their bonds with their mate when she was killed.”
“I see,” Cannon stated, mulling over what I’d just told her. “I warned her many times that her involvement in the feline council’s affairs would get her in trouble one day, but I’m still sad to hear of her passing. She was a brilliant witch who taught me most of what I know today about the craft. What exactly was she helping you with? Some sort of cloaking spell, I presume?”
I proceeded to tell Cannon all about me, and about Fynn, starting with the day that he claimed me against my will, all the way up to the issues I’d been having ever since Solarin was killed and her spell was broken. At no point during my story did she interrupt or seem otherwise phased by anything I was saying. It almost felt like a therapy session, talking about my past traumas with a stranger on a nice couch.
When I was done explaining why I needed a witch to help protect me, I waited nervously for Cannon to reply, hoping that she’d agree, given the circumstances. After what felt like forever sitting in agonizing silence, she finally settled on a response.
“I can’t help you the way you need to be helped.” My shoulder slumped down as the last hope I’d been holding onto left my body. “My cloaking abilities aren’t nearly as sophisticated as Solarin’s were. As a witch, I can learn different spells, but as with all witches, my natural gifts are what developed into my true talents. Solarin has always been good at deflecting and covering things up, so she was particularly brilliant at cloaking. My talents have always been based more in healing and regeneration. If you were severely injured, I’d likely be able to rescue you from the brink of death, but hiding you from another supernatural person, someone that is soul bonded to you, especially from a distance, is not something I could maintain for very long. That being said, I want to try in any way I can to help you. I know you’ve already come a long way, but I know a warlock with similar talents to Solarin who may be able to help you. His name is Rune, and he lives about an hour and a half’s drive from here. I believe I can cloak you until you get there, and then he can take over. And, since this isn’t the 1800s, I can call ahead to let him know you’re coming so that you don’t show up and have to stare through his windows like a bunch of creeps.” She threw her head back in a fit of laughter honoring her own joke, which I couldn’t help but laugh along with.
“Man, she’s not wrong though. If I walked in on a bunch of strangers creeping around my horde, I’d light their asses on fire,” Bomber added cheekily, not really doing much to help our case, but hilarious nonetheless.
“Thank you so much for being so kind and willing to help, despite the worst of first impressions,” Brace tacked on, also laughing at the absurdity surrounding our arrival.
“I can tell that you’re good people, or at least Emily can, and I trust her judgement. Plus, the man who hurt your woman doesn’t deserve her. Forcing something like that on someone, and as a child no less, is abhorrent. Speaking of, before I call Rune and let him know you’re coming, there’s som
ething I’d like to try if you’re comfortable.” Cannon stated, shifting her gaze to focus solely on me. “I’d like to test out my healing powers on your scars that were created during the bond. I know that they’re old and that they’ve healed, but maybe my powers will be able to accelerate the healing process and lessen the appearance of those marks. Combined with another spell Solarin taught me back in the day, I might be able to also heal a bit of your soul from the trauma of a forced bond as well.”
“Wait, what does that mean exactly? You can make her forget about Fynn?” Brace inquired. When he spoke up, I worried that Bomber would be hurt by his level of interest in my bond, but Bomber appeared to be waiting just as impatiently for her reply.
“No, I can’t make someone forget another person entirely. In fact, I’m not entirely sure that I can heal her soul at all because I’ve never tried. Still, I have a feeling that my idea might just work, and I’m feeling compelled to give it a try. That usually means something in the witchy world.
My theory is that if I can progress the healing of the physical wound created from the bond while she’s far away from Fynn, it will help dampen his hold on her soul. It won’t un-bond them, and it certainly won’t make her forget, but I might be able to heal her enough to stop him from being able to tap into her being enough to locate her in the first place. A different sort of cloaking method, if you will. She may even feel him less. Is this something you’d allow me to try, Betina?” If I was being honest, there was nothing I wanted more in this world than to be free from Fynn for the rest of my life. I’d settle for being alone if that’s what I had to do, so long as I never had to think about him again. If she could get me even a small step closer to that reality, I would have to take her up on that.
“If you’re willing to help, I’m willing to be helped. If you do that, will I still have to visit Rune and have him perform the cloaking spell?”
“Well, I won’t know until I try how well the healing will work on your bond. We may still need his help, we may not. May I?” Cannon asked as she reached out for my arm. I nodded without hesitation, laying my arm into her outstretched hand and allowing her to pull my shirt back, away from my shoulder, exposing my scar. The well-meaning witch closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and placed her other hand on my scar. Where her finger touched the deep creases of my scar, I felt a light, tingling sensation, but it wasn’t scary like one might think. Her touch was like cool water to a burn, relieving and, well, healing. Without warning, Cannon ripped her hand away from my shoulder, abruptly moving to stand.
“You have to go. Right now. You need to get in your truck and drive to Rune’s.” My heart began to race, unsure of what caused her to change her tune. She all but ran over to the small table located at the beginning of the hallway leading out of the sitting room, and she started jotting something quickly onto a small piece of paper.
“What the hell? Is everything okay?” Brace questioned, the alarm evident in his voice.
“No, everything is not okay,” Cannon replied, walking over to him and handing him the sheet of paper she’d been writing on. “This is Rune’s address, you need to go there now. I will begin a cloaking spell as soon as you get into your car to try and protect you on your journey. Once I can feel that you’re being protected by Rune, I’ll be able to head that way and meet you there. When I touched Betina’s scar, I felt Fynn. He followed her here, and he’s closing in now. I can also sense from his confidence level that he didn’t come alone.”
“Thank you, I will owe you for saving my life,” I offered, though I was sure that no expression of gratitude would ever feel like enough to compensate for her warning.
“Go, head east first. I’ll give you a five minute head start so that you can lead them in the wrong direction, and then I’ll perform the cloaking spell. At that point, I want you to circle around and head west to the address I gave Brace. Go!” Now, she was speaking loudly and firmly, ushering us out of the house. “Five minutes and then change direction. Be safe,” she reminded as she shut the door behind us. We wasted no time. We were going to heed the witch’s warning and get the hell out of dodge while we still could.
Bomber and I hopped back into the cab of the truck and took off quickly, leaving a trail of dust and dirt flying through the air in our wake. Brace took up the rear on his bike, and we sped away from Cannon’s house before we even had time to process all of the information she’d given us. Using voice commands on his smartphone, Bomber set a timer for five minutes in order for us to keep track of how far we’d gone before we needed to switch direction. We were about thirty seconds from the alarm going off when Brace sped up, passed us on the left, still accelerating even after they cleared the truck and went back into the right lane. Bomber glanced over and met my eyes. We knew what that meant.
We were all going to have to split up because we were being followed more closely than we thought. With Brace blazing forward, we followed behind him until the timer went off, and then we veered off on the next possible turn and began our trip in the opposite direction without Bomber. We just had to hope that Cannon was able to cloak me from Fynn in time so that Brace could lead them in the wrong direction in their efforts to track me down. I silently prayed that Brace would be okay.
7
It took a good long while to lose the couple of panthers who were trailing me. They must have thought I’d lead them to Betina. I knew they made it to Rune’s place safely enough and whatever healing cloak Cannon attempted to do had worked long enough for them to get there and for me to be the decoy. Instead of circling around to meet them, I headed back on the long journey to the club, taking the Ravens who trailed me along for the ride. Two hours out from the clubhouse, I finally lost their tail and managed to get the rest of the way back home without incident. The club was on high alert when I rolled in. Unfortunately, Bomber and Betina weren’t among them.
“They left word,” Gray called out when I got off my bike looking around for the truck. “Said they were taking one more night, a slower route, to get back, and that Rune managed to finish the job.”
“They’re safe though?”
“You know Bomber would fly that woman home on his back if it was an issue. They’re good for now and we have the council to deal with. That should keep you distracted. You can fill me in on the trip when we get back.”
That had my attention. “What’s been happening here?”
“They claimed distance from whatever Raven and his sister were up to, but we got confirmation that at least two members of the council are still searching for shadow cats, including Charlotte, since they know where she is. The bastards are just waiting for an optimal time to get her back.”
“That’s not happening,” I told him. Gray merely smirked in agreeance. “Come on, you can ride out with Dezi and me.” Dezi was a newer member, but he had proved himself worthy in past runs we’d done for the club. He was also a leopard, and while no one had brought it up, he favored our vice president pretty heavily. Knowing how many siblings Gray had out there, it had a few of us wondering if Dezi wasn’t one of them and just showed up because he was curious about Gray. That was a mystery for another day, and one that I was certain Gray and Knox were already aware of. Each member was vetted prior to being placed with the club, after all.
“Not Wooly or Mammoth?” The question was pertinent because they were the two powerhouses of the club whenever brute strength might be needed.
“Knox wanted to keep to the feline shifters for this so it couldn’t be said that other breeds tried to overthrow the feline council.”
“Whatever works for Knox,” I agreed as I swung my leg back over my back over my bike.”
“Heard Bomber lost his ride,” Dezi called as he joined us.
“He did. I’m already on the lookout for something unique that might suit him.” Dezi nodded, a thoughtful gleam in his eyes that we would have to explore later.
“Let’s roll,” Gray called out.
~*~
“T
o what do we owe this honor?” Gentry asked as we dismounted our bikes. He was the only member of the council, or staff, that bothered to come greet us. The silver streaks at his temples were the only indication of his age. His face, while lined slightly with age still appeared that of a man in his thirties. It was hard to imagine that the shifter had grandchildren out there in the world who were also grown.
“We have some new information that came to light recently. Thought it best to come hash it out in person.”
“Oh?” Gentry asked, feigning an air of indifference.
“Let’s get inside where there are no worries of others overhearing.” Gentry understood immediately that Gray was giving him an order. The older shifter bristled, but obliged and saw us inside anyway.
Gentry led us to what appeared to be a common area for those who resided in the council building. It was akin to a larger dining area, but apparently they used it as a meeting space as well. “What is this about?” Pharell Linkhorn, the final member of the council asked as he made his way into the room.
“The gentlemen from the Dark Leopards MC have stopped in to see us,” Gentry informed him.
Pharell’s eyes narrowed. “And what is it you think that we can do for you?”
“You left our President under the impression that you had nothing to do with whatever Raven was up to,” Gray told them.
The B Team: A Dark Leopards MC Novella Page 5