Chapter 13
Bastien
I walked away from Casey in a daze. She was the last person I expected to run into. Her anger toward me was entirely misplaced—I’d been the injured party in our situation. But seeing her face and remembering what she looked like in the throes of passion was excruciating. I recalled what it felt like to touch her smooth skin and bury my face in her neck. I did my best not to think about that night. Casey’s betrayal still stung, but so did the knowledge that I’d tasted something I would never have again.
My demotion was making me soft. The lack of responsibility left too much time for my mind to wonder. But I was in Delta Springs on a mission for the pack and myself. I needed to focus.
The room where the psychic did her readings was painted a deep purple and filled with knickknacks in display cases. A woman with curly brown hair and astute eyes sat in the center of the space, a crystal ball on the table before her.
Maybe she’s not the real deal.
“Are you the psychic?” I asked, although it seemed obvious.
“Yes,” she said, tilting her head as she looked at me. “Madam Vivian, how can I help you?”
“I’m Bastien,” I said, wondering if I’d made the right choice. Running into Casey and then not getting answers about Frankie would feel like a cruel joke. “I’d like a reading. Or rather, I’m looking for a specific answer.”
“Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the chair across from her. “I’ll see what reveals itself, but I can’t promise answers to a specific question. My gift isn’t a search engine.”
I joined Madam Vivian at the table, deciding to take a chance on her despite my misgivings—partly because I refused to give Casey the satisfaction of seeing me leave empty-handed.
“Do you mind if I light some incense?” she asked. “Sometimes the smell bothers wolves.”
My eyebrows shot up, and she laughed at my surprise.
“Did you think the psychic wouldn’t recognize what you are?” she asked, the beads around her neck clacking as she chuckled.
“I guess I’m just not used to humans knowing,” I shrugged. Maybe she was a real psychic, after all.
“Yeah, but I’m a spicy human,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I have that extra oomph. So, the incense?”
“Right. Yeah, it’s all right,” I replied. It couldn’t be any worse than Tobias’s herbs. That acrid smell blocked out all else.
“Thanks.” She picked up a stick of incense and lit it. “It helps open my third eye.”
She waved the smoke around, filling the room with eucalyptus, rosemary, and peppermint aromas. It was shockingly pleasant.
“That’s better,” she said, settling into her seat. “Give me your hand.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to use your crystal ball?”
“I just keep that around for the tourists.”
She looked at me expectantly, and I finally did as she asked, placing my right hand in hers. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes darting toward the door. “You’re—does Casey know you’re here?”
My heart beat a little faster.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.
Vivian gave me a withering look.
“Yes,” I answered with a frustrated sigh. “I saw her as I came in. Can we get to the reading now?”
“No need to get grumpy,” Vivian said. “But you should know that Casey is my friend, and if you do anything to hurt her, there will be consequences.”
None of this was going as I’d hoped.
“You’re the psychic,” I pointed out. “Do you sense that I mean Casey any harm? I’m just here to get answers about a former member of my pack, that’s all.”
She regarded me for a moment, and I held her gaze. I’d faced far greater foes than a woman half my size whose only ability had nothing to do with strength or fighting. And yet, I believed her threat.
“True,” she finally conceded. “Let’s get back to it.”
She shook her shoulders like she was ridding herself of bad energy, her beads clacking once more. She closed her eyes again, and her fingers tightened around my hand.
“I can’t see the person you’re after. He’s obscured by magic,” she said, repeating what I already knew. “But you’ll find what you’re looking for here in town.”
“I already know he’s here,” I said. “I was hoping for something a little more specific.”
Vivian shrugged. “Such is the way of psychic visions.”
“So that’s it?” I asked. “You’ve got nothing else?”
A smile tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’ve got plenty more. But none of it is what you want to hear.”
“About the man I’m after? Frankie?” I pressed.
“Not about him, no.” She glanced at the door again. She undoubtedly knew Casey and I were fated mates.
“Yeah, let’s not go there,” I said. I’d had five years of punishment for rejecting Casey. I didn’t need any more grief.
She released my hand and leaned back in her seat. “Then there’s not much else I can say, except that if you want to find this Frankie guy, you can’t intend to cause him harm.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” She rolled her eyes at me.
“I don’t want to harm him,” I insisted. At least, I wanted answers first. I still didn’t know if I was going to take him back to the pack or not.
“Uh-huh,” she agreed sarcastically.
I sighed. “So, if I don’t mean him any harm, I’ll just—find him?”
“You’ll have the possibility of finding him,” she said, like that clarified things.
“Do you always talk in riddles?”
“Only when people are being rude,” she said, giving me a tight smile that told me to fuck off.
I stood up, ready to leave. “How much do I owe you?” I asked. “Not that I got my money’s worth.”
“A hundred dollars. And you got plenty. You just don’t like what you heard.”
I pulled a bill from my wallet, set it on the table, and left the room with a gnawing sense of frustration. I didn’t know what to think of Vivian’s cryptic statements, and it seemed I’d be sticking around in Delta Springs until I got lucky or gave up. That meant I’d be in the same town as Casey for who knew how long. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, which frustrated me because I should’ve wanted nothing to do with her.
I just needed my wolf side to get the message. As I returned to the store, I found Casey waiting for me, chewing the corner of her thumb. My wolf ached, all but begging me to go to her.
“I trust you got what you were looking for,” she said, obviously hoping I wouldn’t come back. For somebody who had manipulated me into sleeping with her, she sure knew how to act like the victim. She was keeping the ruse up even now.
Unless—maybe she’d also been a victim of Kildaire’s manipulations. I’d certainly seen how low the Alpha would stoop. He could have convinced her to do what she did.
What does it matter? I still don’t want a mate.
“Something like that,” I replied.
I walked toward the door but paused by a display cabinet. Necklaces hung from hooks, their pendants similar to the one I remembered Casey used to wear. The fleur-de-lis were standard symbols, though—not moons and an arrowhead. The sign boasted protection from anyone who sought to harm the user. Could Frankie be wearing something like this? I’d heard from both Tobias and Vivian that he was using magic to shield himself.
“Do these things really work?” I asked, pointing to the pendants.
“When I’ve put a protection spell on them, yeah,” she said.
Maybe Vivian was worth the money after all.
I nodded. At least I’d gotten some sort of answer, even if I still didn’t know where to find Frankie.
“I didn’t know you had witch blood,” I commented. It was rare. Tobias was the only other wolf I’d met who had it.
“There’s a lot we don’t know about each other,” she said, her voice icy.
She was right. We’d only spent a week together, even if it felt longer. But maybe that was a trick of our incomplete mate bond. My wolf didn’t care about my complicated emotions. He only experienced the draw of a fated mate.
“Yeah,” I said, shrugging.
The door opened just as I reached for the knob, and a young woman of about twenty and a little boy with bright blue eyes entered the shop. I frowned. The woman was human, but the boy had the scent of wolf about him. An unusual combination. It was rare for human mothers to give birth to supernatural children, even with a wolf shifter father.
“Mama,” the little boy exclaimed.
He headed straight for Casey and wrapped his arms around her. She hugged him tightly, her storm-gray eyes cloudy as she looked up at me.
My stomach dropped. The boy was around four years old. Could it be?
“Goodbye, Bastien,” Casey said firmly.
I wanted to demand answers, but the little boy was babbling to Casey about a cool bug he saw, and I couldn’t find it in me to interrupt. I needed time to think. Also, I wouldn’t make a scene in front of a kid—Casey’s kid, no less.
I pushed outside, rubbing my hand over my face and blinking against the too-bright sunlight. I let my feet carry me down the street, my mind reeling as I wondered if the little boy with blue eyes—the same shade as mine—was my son.
The idea gnawed at me, clouding my thoughts. Rejecting Casey before we had a chance to grow attached was about protecting her as much as myself. But if that kid was my son, could I really walk away?
I needed a drink—or five. I set off to find the nearest dive bar.