A Roar for Magic (Mystic Hollow #2)

Chapter 30

THIRTY

T he fake formula sat in its crystal vial on Clover’s workbench in her shop, catching the light like liquid starlight. Her magic hummed through the shop’s foundations, alert for any disturbance.

A protection ward tingled at the back of her mind – someone testing the shop’s defenses.

Clover kept grinding moonflower petals, each stroke of the pestle deliberate and unhurried. Let them think she hadn’t noticed. Let them think she’d grown careless after a long day of work.

The back door’s hinges creaked.

Four distinct footsteps entered her shop, their owners trying for stealth but betrayed by the subtle shift of floorboards. Dark magic slithered through the air like oil on water, making her skin crawl. One of the intruders pulsed with corrupted power that tasted like ashes and grave dirt.

“Miss Weaver.” Hudson’s voice oozed false courtesy. “Working late?”

She turned slowly, taking in his dramatic black cape and the three men flanking him. Two were clearly enforcers, muscle-bound and radiating aggression. But the third... shadows writhed around him like living things, his magic a perversion of natural power.

“We’re closed.” She set down her mortar and pestle. “Though I’m sure someone of your... capabilities... can read the sign out front. Or did you need help with the big words?”

Hudson’s polite mask cracked slightly. “Amusing. But I think you’ll want to make an exception.” He prowled closer, examining bottles on nearby shelves. “I’ve heard interesting things about your recent work. Breakthrough formulas. Revolutionary applications.”

“My work is protected by client confidentiality.” She smiled sweetly. “But I’m sure a businessman of your caliber understands professional ethics. Oh wait...”

“Careful.” His voice hardened. “Your mate isn’t here to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection from someone who can’t even develop his own formulas.” She leaned against her workbench. “How’s that going, by the way? Still trying to copy Rook’s success?”

The dark witch moved suddenly, magic lashing out like a whip. Clover deflected it with a shield spell, green energy crackling against black corruption.

“Touched a nerve?” She pushed off the bench. “Or just tired of living in your nephew’s shadow?”

“Take the formula.” Hudson’s pretense vanished. “Break her if you have to.”

The witch attacked again, shadows condensing into razor-sharp tendrils. Clover dove behind a shelf as they sliced through the air, shredding dried herbs into fragrant clouds. Rose petals and chamomile rained down like perfumed snow.

Her magic surged through her veins, earth and plant energy weaving into deadly precision. She snatched a handful of rowan berries from a nearby basket, infusing them with power before launching them at the witch. They exploded into emerald flames, forcing him back with a snarl.

Hudson’s enforcers split up, trying to flank her. One lunged for the formula on her desk.

“Bad idea.” She snapped her fingers. The protection ward flared to life, throwing him into a display of crystal vials. Rainbow-colored potions shattered, filling the air with sparkling mist.

The dark witch spat something in ancient Latin. Shadows coalesced into a spear of pure corruption, punching through her shields. Pain blazed across her ribs where it grazed her.

“Is this the best you could find?” She gathered her power, letting it spiral outward in waves of green-gold light. “A second-rate warlock with delusions of grandeur? No wonder you can’t match Rook’s success.”

“You think you know him so well.” Hudson’s lip curled. “A few weeks of playing mates, and suddenly you’re an expert?”

“I know he’s twice the businessman and alpha you’ll ever be.” Another shield deflected a shadow blast. “Smart enough to create his own formulas instead of stealing others’ work.”

The shop’s door exploded inward in a shower of splinters.

Rook burst through, tiger energy crackling around him like lightning. Banner and Weston flanked him, power radiating off all three in waves. His roar shook the foundations, rattling bottles on their shelves.

“Hudson!”

“Perfect timing, nephew.” Hudson’s smile turned vicious. “Though your witch could use some manners.”

“Funny.” Clover hurled a binding spell woven with crushed vervain. “I was thinking the same about you.”

Chaos erupted. Banner and Weston engaged the enforcers while Rook lunged for his uncle. The dark witch pressed his attack, hurling spell after spell at Clover. Corruption ate through the air like acid, leaving black streaks on everything it touched.

She countered with everything she had. Enchanted herbs burst into protective flames. Crystal vials shattered, their contents forming barriers of pure magic. But the witch’s power was relentless, shadows seeping into the very air she breathed.

A blast caught her shoulder, spinning her into a rack of dried flowers. Pain sparked through her arm. She retaliated with a curse woven through moonflower petals, satisfaction flaring as the witch stumbled.

Nearby, Rook and Hudson had shifted. Two massive tigers crashed through displays, sending potions and herbs flying in their wake. Hudson’s gray-streaked coat marked him as the smaller tiger, but he fought with desperate cunning born of jealousy and ambition.

“Your sentiment makes you weak,” the dark witch spat, shadows writhing around him. “Love is a chain we can exploit.”

“You really don’t understand, do you?” Clover drew power from the earth beneath the shop, letting it fill her until her skin glowed with magic. “Love isn’t weakness. It’s strength. Connection. Something you’ll never comprehend.”

She released the spell in a wave of pure power. Green-gold energy blazed through the witch’s corrupted shields, driving him through a window, and he disappeared into the night before she could press her advantage.

A pained roar snapped her attention back to the tigers. Hudson had scored a hit on Rook’s flank, blood matting his golden fur. But when he saw his witch escape, Hudson disengaged with supernatural speed. He snatched something from the floor – the formula vial knocked loose in the fighting – and bolted through the broken window.

The witch’s shadow magic burned through her veins like ice, stealing her strength. Her vision blurred as darkness fought her natural power.

Strong arms caught her as her knees buckled.

“Clover!” Rook had shifted back, cradling her close. Fear and fury warred in his voice. “Banner, call Madame Zephyrine and Neve. Now!”

“Already on it.” Banner pressed a cloth to her bleeding ribs while Weston secured the perimeter. “They’re on their way.”

“Got him,” she whispered, fighting to focus on Rook’s face. “Tracking spell activated... the moment he touched it...”

“Save your strength.” He brushed hair from her face with shaking fingers. “Just hold on. Please.”

She clutched his shirt as he lifted her, breathing in his familiar spicy scent. The last thing she registered was his warmth and the desperate pulse of his tiger energy trying to shield her from the corruption.

Then everything faded to black.