Chapter 11 #3
“Much easier to ignore it,” Mason said, his voice uncharacteristically glum as he downed his drink in one long gulp.
“Not for me. My heart couldn’t take doing nothing at all. Doogans aside, some of these wolves desperately need help.”
Mason stared at me for a full thirty seconds without blinking. Then he nodded, threw some money on the bar, and stood. “You’re a good leader. I’ll work on getting a team together.”
He walked out.
I nearly fell off my barstool, and it had nothing—okay, a little bit—to do with the alcohol.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered to Ronan.
“He’s right. You are a good leader.”
“You’ll be an even better one,” I said.
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
I ended up closing the bar with Ronan. That meant Karen got to go home early, which had her practically shimmying out the door.
“I need to be here more. That woman was way too happy about going home early.” Ronan set the last chair on the table closest to the door. The cleaners would be in soon to do the floors, bathrooms, and general cleaning.
“Everyone loves leaving work early.” I looped my arm through the handle of my bag. “If you let her go early every night, that would just become her new leaving time.”
“We switch off staying late, but I’ve been leaning on her more.” He peered down the hall and into the back room, making sure he’d taken care of everything. He had, of course. I’d helped him do it.
“Karen doesn’t seem upset about her job, so what’s really the matter?”
“Feels like I’ve been neglecting things around here.” He adjusted the thermostat on the wall behind the bar and turned off the lights on Angel’s aquarium. The colorful little betta snoozed in his floating log.
“Is that all?” I asked softly.
He nodded, a little too quickly, then sighed. “You’re doing a good job. I’m proud of you.”
“Feel like there’s a ‘but’ in there.”
“Not at all. I just always sort of envisioned myself as the one who would sweep in and care for the pack. I’m grateful,” he held up his hands, “don’t think for a single second that I’m not, but it’s an adjustment.” He raked a hand through his hair. “That was totally a ‘but,’ wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” I said. “I do get it, though. It’s not the way any of us saw this going, including me.”
“Gods, I sound like such an asshole.”
“At least you’re self-aware,” I said, and nudged him with my shoulder.
“It’s my finest quality. That and my humility.” He chuckled, pulled me into a hug. “I’m so proud of you, so grateful for you, so in love with you, Alpha Lennox.”
I knew all that, but it was nice to hear him say it.
“Thank you for taking care of the wolves. Even the ones who don’t deserve it, like Dickie and Brenda.”
“Why don’t the Doogans deserve it?” I asked.
“They sided with the Floyd loyalists in wanting you out.”
“What?” I thought about that swimming pool of sewage and the way Brenda had begged me to put a truth spell on Dickie. Begged. “I take it back. Brenda doesn’t have grounds. Those two deserve each other and should stay married forever.”
Ronan laughed and picked up his keys. “Do you need to drive the Mini home?”
“I should. Cecil and I have errands tomorrow. Meet you at home?” I went on my tiptoes for a kiss that Ronan returned with promising enthusiasm.
“Not on your life. We’re caravanning. I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second.”
The street was silent except for cricket songs, a distant cat screech, and the windblown flap of a faded flyer taped to one of the pub’s windows. Warm night air folded around us.
We got into our cars.
A strange sense of wrongness gripped me the second my butt hit the seat. I clenched my hand around my keys so tightly they made an imprint on my palm. My body was on high alert, every muscle tight.
There was magic here, something dirty.
Slowly, body brittle from fear tremors, I peered over my shoulder.
No one was there.
This made sense. Ronan had checked the entire vehicle, even the tiny trunk. A few car lengths in front of me, an engine started. Ronan’s truck.
“Stop being ridiculous,” I told myself, and shoved my key into the ignition. “There’s nothing here.”
A woman’s whisper rode the heated night air. “Demon.”
Not an accusation, but a summoning.
Apathy spread through me like a disease, cooling my blood, draining away my fear.
“Come, demon,” the voice beckoned.
The sound of Demon Betty speaking inside my head brought me forcibly back to the present. I hadn’t heard her speak since she, the witch, and I had amalgamated—at least, not on this side of the otherworld.
I must follow that voice. It’s … beautiful.
“It wants to kill us,” I said blandly.
Wants to help us.
“Do we need help?”
The question seemed to stump her/me. No … we don’t. What is happening?
“It’s a spell. A strong one. Not stronger than us.”
No. Not stronger.
The numbness drained out of me like someone pulling a bathtub plug. It swirled down from my head, to my belly, to my legs and then it spun away, leaving me sweating and shaking with fear.
Once again, I could feel everything.
This was unfortunate, because a second later, I was shot.