Chapter 14
MY FAVORITE
Zzzzzzzzzzz.
— gus
It all happens so fast. I recognize that we’re about to get hit with magic, but I don’t have the reflexes to do anything to stop it.
I don’t.
Max does.
He dives for me, grabbing the vial and flinging it away from us as the green turned neon.
It’s only gone about three feet from us when it detonates, but Max is already folding me in his arms, shielding me from the blast. He turns my head into his chest, bowing his head over mine, and braces us both as the magic explodes.
It’s like some kind of powder bomb. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but a shot of powder slams into us, causing Max—and, by extension, me—to stagger. He recovers quickly, lifting his head, then cursing under his breath.
I pull back, looking down at us.
Our clothes are covered in a very familiar black powder. Add in the fact that it suddenly feels like someone has stuffed both my nose and my ear with cotton, my inner opossum chittering softly as she curls up deep inside of me, too weak to do anything but nap… and, yeah. I know what this is.
“Wolfsbane.”
Max’s hands drop to my shoulders. “Did you get any in your mouth?”
His voice has an unfamiliar panicked edge to his growl that has me gaping up at him. “What?”
“Did you get any in your mouth, Honey? Did you ingest any?”
Oh. I shake my head. “No. You protected me from that. Max…” I don’t know what to say except, “Thank you.”
“When I find out who did that…” His fangs punch out, his wolf riding him dangerously hard. “I’m pretty sure it’s just wolfsbane. No silver or else our skin would be burning right now. That doesn’t mean we should play around with this stuff. It’s already affecting me.”
Me, too, but I can’t bring myself to tell Max that. I wouldn’t want to give him a coronary.
“Blow-back spell,” I tell him instead. “It’s a warning. Whoever charmed this didn’t want anyone else touching it, but if they did, they didn’t want to kill them outright. So they used wolfsbane to dull our senses and cut us off from our beasts.”
“Magic?”
I nod.
“So it’s not a shifter who is killing us.”
I didn’t say that.
“It could be a shifter and a witch. They could be working together,” I say, shaking my shirt, trying to knock off as much of the wolfsbane as I can before admitting softly, “or they could be someone like me.”
“It wasn’t you, Honey,” Max grates out.
I snort. “You sure? I was the one who brought us here and found it. Maybe I planted it.”
“And then made the blow-back spell go off? Please. This isn’t time for teasing me, Killer. Someone could’ve really hurt you. If it had silver in it…”
I’d be dead. We’d both be dead. “I’m okay, Max.” Giving in to my instincts, I go up on my tiptoes, laying my palm against his sharp jaw. “Feel a little lightheaded, but I’m okay.”
I don’t even tell him that I’m feeling pretty human at the moment. I’m sure he’s going through the same thing—worse, since he’s an Alpha—but my admitting the lightheadedness is enough to have that ol’ familiar muscle in his cheek jerking.
“That’s the wolfsbane. We need to get it off of us.”
Good idea. “We can go inside—”
“We need to get it off now.”
Oh. Okay. “We could shift. That would get rid of it.”
“I don’t have any spare clothes.”
That means, if Max shifts to get out of his wolfsbane-covered clothes, he’ll either have to stay in his fur or be in his skin… naked. I already got a glimpse of what he looks like undressed tonight. It took everything I had not to open my mouth and tell him that I recognize him as my mate.
If it happens again, I don’t think I can.
“You have a washer—”
“What?”
“A washer, Killer? You have one in your apartment?”
“Yeah. A dryer, too, but—”
“Good. That’ll do the job and I won’t have to walk through Moonburrow naked.” He takes off his shirt, rolling it into a ball so the wolfsbane is contained. He reaches for his jeans. “We’re going to see the witches first thing. For now, we need to get this powder away from us.”
He unzips his jeans. I stand there, staring in disbelief that this is happening.
That’s right. I can handle magic being blast at me. A half-naked Max Lobo? That’s when my brain fries.
He nods at me. “Come on. You’re a shifter. I’m a shifter. The wolfsbane is on our clothes. They have to go.”
Know what? I can’t really argue that point—and maybe I don’t want to—because that’s how, against my best self-preservation skills, I end up in my bra and panties while Max strips down to a pair of dark blue boxer briefs.
Ah. It could’ve been worse. When he changed earlier, he could’ve gone commando.
Damn it. Why didn’t he go commando?
Max catches me looking. He gives me a crooked yet undeniably strained smile, eyes dipping to my cleavage before he forces them back to meet my stare. “You were so scandalized before. I thought, if something like this happened, I should at least keep some underwear on.”
Scandalized. Right. Not ogling the male who’s supposed to be my mate…
I hug my clothes to my chest. “So what now?”
He looks at me like the wolfsbane is affecting my brain. “We go inside before anyone sees you in your underwear.”
“You are,” I point out.
“And I’m the only one who’s allowed to, Killer. Now get inside.”
Huh. Since when is Max the possessive type?
And why does that have my cheeks heating up in a good way?
I don’t know, but one thing is for sure: I go inside, and I hold open the door to invite him in.
There is wolfsbane in my hair, panic in my bloodstream, a wolf in my kitchen, and it’s the middle of the fucking night. This is fine. It has to be.
If it wasn’t, I’d be sprawled out on the floor, doing my best impression of a corpse until my inner opossum decided that the danger had passed enough to let me come back to life.
Instead, I’m hesitating, not sure what to do next when Max calls out my name softly.
“Honey.”
I glance over at him. “Yeah?”
“Did you really give Declan that cupcake for me?’
Okay. That was the absolute last thing I expected him to say. “Really? You want to talk about this now?”
While you’re in your underwear?
I don’t say that part out loud. I don’t have to. Max understands, and he stalks a little closer to me.
Taking the bundle of clothes in my hands from me, he adds it to his, then sets it by the back door, as far from me as it can get while I’m in the kitchen.
“The wolfsbane is wearing off now that we’ve gotten rid of our clothes.
It’ll take time to wash them, and it’s just a little nudity between…
friends.” The way he tastes the word as he says it tells me that Max isn’t so sure that’s the one that fits…
but what else can it be? “I don’t want to think about the wolfsbane.
Not now. Not while I can’t do anything about it until tomorrow.
But you’re here, and I’m here, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about the cupcake you said you made for me since I knew it was supposed to be mine. ”
I gulp. “It was a caramel apple cupcake.”
“My favorite,” he grates out.
That causes my cheeks to go pink. “I didn’t know. I guessed… but I mean it. I did make it for you. He was supposed to give it to you… I don’t know why he didn’t—”
“You were trying to feed me.”
My mouth falls open. Technically, he’s not wrong. I did. Knowing full well the ramifications of what my ‘peace offering’ could mean, I tried to feed him. “Yes.”
“Will you feed me now?”
My heart thuds wildly against my chest. Here’s hoping his wolf is still dull enough not to notice how my pulse is pounding. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
He prowls closer to me. “Why not? I fed you earlier.”
“Because you’re the Alpha. You take care of your packmates.”
“I don’t see you as only a packmate.”
My pulse spikes. “What do you see me as?”
It’s his turn to look stunned. He opens his mouth, pauses, then scowls, rubbing his forehead.
“I should focus on the murder. That’s important. The new zoning regulations in September… they were important, too. I’m the Alpha. I’m the sheriff. There’s always something that requires my attention. But what about what I want?”
“What… what is it you want?” I whisper.
His eyes clear as they look at me. “Something sweet.”
My tongue darts out, poking at the corner of my mouth. “I didn’t finish cleaning up my remaining stock when you told me to get packed earlier. I think I have pink lemonade cupcakes leftover you can try.”
“Pink lemonade. My favorite.”
A nervous chuckle escapes me. “Are they all your favorite?"
“If you baked them, Honey? Then yes.”
“Stay here. I’ll go get one from the display.”
Max doesn’t answer me. He just waits for me to start for the swinging door before he follows me into the front of the store. Fair enough. I didn’t stay behind when he told me to earlier.
The lights are still off. Moonburrow is quiet and dark; even if there was a nocturnal shifter on the street, they’d have to have their noses pressed to the front window to see that me and Max are standing behind the counter in our underwear.
We’re all but invisible, even when Max grabs me by my hips, perching me on the edge of the back counter once I grabbed one of the pink-frosted cupcakes.
I raise my eyebrows at him.
He gives me a wolfish grin. “I do believe I asked if you would feed me.”
He’s got a point there. With a small smile of my own, I remove the cupcake wrapper and hold out the cupcake. The hunger never leaving his gleaming gold eyes, he takes a bite—and he goes still.
Ah, crap. He doesn’t like it. I messed it up. Sugar… did I forget sugar? Or—
Almost as though it’s ripped from him, Max makes a low, sinful sound in the back of his throat before he growls my name softly.
I lean toward him, closing the small gap between us.
His tongue darts out, lapping at the lick of frosting welling in the corner of his mouth.
Heat floods through me as I gulp. “Good?”
Max lifts his head, staring at me in that all-consuming way of the predator.
My breath catches in my throat as his gaze locks on my face.
“Delicious.”
His voice is a deep rumble that has me shuddering. And, sure, I’m sitting on my countertop in my underwear, but I’m not cold. The opposite, actually.
When Max Lobo looks at me like that, I’m on fire.
He moves into me before I can breathe, his palm braced on one hip, the other curling under my chin to tilt my face up. For a moment, we just stare at each other, opossum and wolf.
Then he leans in, slow enough that I could stop him.
I don’t.
The kiss is careful at first, as if he’s afraid to startle me, but the second I sigh against his mouth, his restraint cracks. The world shrinks to heat and heartbeat and the taste of sugar between us. He tastes like sugar and pine and want
It’s dizzying.
I love it.
When he finally pulls away, he lifts his hand. His thumb lifts to the corner of my mouth, wiping away a smear of frosting he shared with me like it’s an excuse to touch me one more time.
“Don’t ask me to forget again, Honey.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, but don’t ask that.”
“I won’t.”
“Good.”
He’s right there. It would be so easy to confess. To tell him that there’s a reason why he feels possessive, and can’t resist the urge to kiss me.
I open my mouth, the words ‘I’m your mate’ on the tip of my tongue… but what comes out instead is, “I should shower.”
He takes a few steps back. “To wash the taste of me off of you?”
His perceived—and not entirely inaccurate—rejection has his words coming out as sharp as a knife.
I shake my head, desperate to blunt the edge. “Because I think the wolfsbane got in my hair and my neck is beginning to feel numb.”
That does the trick.
With a moment’s hesitation, Max lifts me up off the counter, holding me close. “Where’s the shower?”
I tap his chest. “I can walk up the stairs.”
“And I can carry you.”
“Max—”
“You’re impossible.”
“Ah, you love me.”
Max jolts, but he doesn’t set me down.
Me? I could almost kick myself for such a flippant quip. That’s what I do. I’m Honey Morgan. I have a sunny outlook on life but I’m as hardheaded as a dog with a bone. I rarely think before I speak, and even when I do, half of what I say is a smartass response.
I don’t actually think Max loves me.
Oh, no. The bigger problem is that I think that I love Max.
That realization stuns me silent. I let him carry me the rest of the way up, and when he glances down at me when we reach the top, visibly puzzled, I point in the direction of the bathroom.
Just as stubborn, Max finally sets me down on my feet again, but he doesn’t leave until he’s figured out how to turn my shower on for me.
Declaring the temp to be perfect, he says flatly, “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs. I need to get my clothes so we can wash them for tomorrow. After that, I’d appreciate it if I could borrow your shower.”
“Of course—”
“Thank you. And then we’re going to finish the conversation we started downstairs.”
Crud. Here I thought I got away with it, too.
I nod. “Only for a little bit. I’m tired, and we need to get some sleep.”
And I only have one bed. Wonderful. Unlike Max’s Alpha cabin, I don’t have a guest room, but I guess that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it. Knowing him, he’ll insist on sleeping on the kitchen floor to protect me.
He nods, then steps out of the bathroom.
I wait a few seconds before closing the door behind him. I don’t bother with a lock. Max is an honorable male. He won’t come back in unless I invite him, too, and it’s not like a simple lock will keep him out if he decides to return.
Stripping quickly, I test the water, impressed that it’s just as hot as I like it.
I step in, letting the water wash over me.
Specks of grey appear at the bottom of the tub.
Remnants of the wolfsbane that managed to hit me.
As I grab some shampoo, lathering my hair, I’m already feeling ten times better as I rinse the wolfsbane off of me.
That lasts for… oh? Ten seconds?
Yeah. That’s about right. Ten seconds… that’s how long it took before I proved that my impression of Max might not be all that correct because he not only comes thundering down the hall of my upstairs apartment instead of heading down the stairs to the bakery, he throws open the door.
I peek my head around the shower curtain, ready to rip him a new one for not sticking to his word, when I see him—and he sees me.
“Why do you smell like my mate, Killer?” His wolfish eyes flash, a heated look so very different from the cold gaze peering into my window earlier tonight. I shiver all the same. “Why do you smell like mine?”
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
I… wasn’t thinking. I’m running on two hours of sleep, I got hit by a blow-back spell, and Max Lobo’s kisses scrambled my brain again.
I wasn’t thinking, and I hopped in the shower. What else did I do?
I just washed my scent-dampener charm off and, for the first time since I moved to Moonburrow, my fated mate got a full blast of my scent.
Uh-oh.