Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Erin and I are the last to arrive. The frozen mercenaries immediately draw my attention.
My magic has just plonked them together in a rough grouping.
A couple of them are even facing the wall.
Seven are standing, and three are unconscious.
The Power Rangers. “Has no one ever told you guys that your Power Ranger outfits are ridiculous?” Of course, the frozen men can’t reply, they can’t make a peep.
For extra safety, and not willing to encounter any more surprises, I lock the entire reception down.
The huge black wolf’s grey eyes land on me, and he shifts.
What I can only describe is a look of pure relief crosses Owen's handsome face as he prowls toward me.
His entire focus is on me. His enormous hands land on my hips and he lifts me into his arms. The cinnamon and vanilla scent of him fills my lungs.
One arm is underneath my bottom—like the best kind of seat—and it holds me up against him while his other hand cradles my face.
My tummy flips as I am engulfed in his heat and his perfect bumper car lips find mine.
He kisses me sweetly, reverently, as if I am the only person who matters to him in the entire world.
When I reluctantly pull away to take a breath, my breasts brush against his chest. His pecs are hard. Steel beneath silken skin, reminding me of the power of the man that holds me. We breathe in unison for several seconds and unfortunately, my head screams a warning that we are not alone.
Oops.
I am now very aware we are kissing in the same room as my parents and a bunch of mercenaries. I glare at him ruefully. Owen returns the look with a soft smile, so I allow myself the luxury of leaning against the hand that is cupping my jaw for a few more precious seconds.
When I finally lift my eyes, I peek over his shoulder.
My coven is milling around; they appear relaxed considering the current situation and the earlier excitement.
My attention lands on Mum. She isn’t so relaxed.
Her eyes are politely averted, and her hand is firm across a grumbling Heather’s face, blocking her view.
In the back of my head, I acknowledge my hellhound is, um, naked, having just shifted.
Even though I love his soft skin underneath my fingertips, and I know he isn’t shy, nor does he mind everyone checking out his bare bottom, I tease, “I’m not the only one who should be called Flash.
’” I wrap him in his combat style clothing and include his weapons for good measure.
“I was so worried,” he whispers. “I am so glad you’re safe.” The rough stubble on his jaw scratches against my hair as he kisses the top of my head. Owen gently places me on the floor and pulls away just enough, so he can check me over.
The bruising on my throat where the host grabbed me must have faded. But it still doesn’t stop my hellhound from homing in on the area. Probably scenting the host on my skin. “Where is he?” he growls.
“Dead.” My mouth goes dry with the words and my throat aches. “He is dead.” Owen’s eyes soften with compassion.
“Good. Did you kill him?”
I shake my head. “Atticus.”
“I owe him.”
I don’t bother correcting him that the vampire still owes me, but it is a long story and I’ll tell him when we have privacy and not an entire reception full of frozen but listening mercenaries.
“Daisy?” I don’t wait for his answer as my magic finds her automatically. She is swimming in a lava pool with her fake dragonette friends. “Found her,” I mumble.
“She kept trying to bite your mum.”
“Oh.” I can’t help but grin and Owen's eyes sparkle. “I will have a stern word with her to not bite grandma.” As if we conjured her, Mum tugs me away from Owen and hugs me.
Oof.
“The dragonette is not my grandchild. I am so glad you are okay. Please don’t do that again.
I was worried. Tuesday, you don’t have to prove you are the strongest person in the room.
We all know it. Next time, let us help you.
You don’t have to do things alone.” She gives me a shake and then Diane, my protector, pulls me away from her tight grip.
“Now is not the time, Mum,” Diane chides. “Glad you are okay, sis.”
I expect Mum to say something else, to reprimand me, but she doesn’t. She gives me a small smile and… is that respect in her eyes?
Nah. Now I know I must be seeing things. Her concern has shocked the stuffing out of me.
“Is everyone okay?” Andy, as usual, is scowling.
“Yes, we are fine,” Ava says.
“Hellhound”—Mum clears her throat—“perhaps we need to discuss a spell that will retain your clothes while you shift. While you are a fine-looking man, we do not need to see you in all your glory. Especially when there are children present. We are witches, not wolves, and we have standards.”
I snort and Owen and I share another look.
“I don’t know,” Jodie whispers to Diane. “I don’t mind.” Diane shushes and elbows her, while Andy looks appalled.
I turn back to our prisoners. “So, you got three?” I ask Owen, acknowledging three of the mercenaries who are unconscious and a little bit worse for wear.
I look a little closer and spot the odd man out.
I should say, two mercenaries and one lovesick young man are unconscious and frozen on the floor.
“Oh, hello, Jeff.”
Erin’s takes that as permission to hurry towards him and drops to her knees beside him on the floor.
Her hands flutter about as if she doesn’t know where to touch him.
“I don’t know whether to ask you to slap some sense into him or help him,” she whispers.
When she catches my eye, she blinks back tears.
“Please, please help him. I know it’s wrong of me to ask, but can you please heal him as you did me? ”
I can see he’s a little beat up. Claw marks rend across his chest and his abdomen.
The eyes of my coven and the frozen mercenaries track me as I shuffle toward them.
As I kneel in front of Jeff, I whisper, “Erin, will you please stay out of the way for a second? Just so I can talk with him without interference? I promise I won’t be long.
” Erin nods and scrambles out of Jeff’s sightline.
“I am going to heal him first.” I keep him frozen as I send my magic into him to heal the superficial wounds. Well, superficial to a creature. But not to the pale young man before me, who has the markers of a person who spends all his time inside.
Jeff is human. Which makes what he did, coming here for revenge, more impressive—I frown—if not more stupid. What was he thinking? Was the host’s influence that substantial? Or is Jeff the gamer a closet Rambo?
Gosh, he has been very lucky to have only got away with a few nasty scratches. As my magic finishes healing him, his eyes flutter open.
“Hey Jeff,” I say, all friendly-like.
I remind myself that the rest of Jeff is frozen, so I unfreeze his mouth, allowing him to speak.
“Bitch,” he snarls. Erin gasps. I wave the hand that he can’t see at Erin, in a silent request for her to keep her mouth closed until after I have finished talking to him.
Thankfully, she listens. “It’s you, isn’t it?
He told me you had freaky purple hair. You killed my girl and I’m going to end you. ”
I slow blink. He is going to end me. My lips twitch. That was kind of adorable.
“I am going to rip you apart with my bare hands and shit down your neck.”
Ew. Lovely. That was not quite as cute. “Are you now? Well, alrighty then,” I say with zero aplomb. “That is kind of a dramatic statement, Jeff, considering you are frozen to the floor. I healed you and you are so welcome.” I rub my eyebrow and wrinkle my nose when Jeff roars.
He grits his teeth and grunts with a bold but bizarre attempt to prove me wrong. I watch as his face goes bright red and a little blood vessel in his temple throbs as he struggles to make good on his threat.
Gah.
I tilt my head to the side and wait him out. After a few more grunts and groans, he settles. “Are you done?” I quietly ask. He glares at me and then looks away. “So, Jeff, who told you I killed Erin?” The same eyebrow I’ve been scrubbing rises with my enquiry.
“Everybody knows. Everybody knows that you’re a murderous bitch. And if I don’t get you, someone else will.”
“Okay, that’s nice.” I nod sagely and then ask the same question. “Who told you I killed Erin?”
“An elf did.”
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. His explanation doesn’t seem to differ from the host’s villain speech.
“What did he tell you?” Jeff clamps his lips closed, and he stubbornly closes his eyes.
I sigh at his childish antics. “The elf lied to you, Jeff. He used you and you put Erin in danger by coming here all potions blazing.”
“Liar!” Jeff yells. “You’re a lying evil bitch.” Owen growls, so I freeze Jeff’s mouth before Owen can come over and pull his head off.
I get off the floor and wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans.
I am so completely out of my comfort zone in dealing with this.
I know I’ll get nothing out of him. He is too angry.
At least it is easy to prove I’m not lying.
“Wow, Erin,” I mumble, “you have a real winner here. No wonder you broke up with him.” I nod and wave my hand in a “have at it” gesture.
She falls forward, shuffling on her hands and knees towards his inert body.
My eyes go to the mercenaries. Perhaps by speaking to them, I will have more success?
“What did you do?” Erin cries as she grabs hold of his shirt. The shock in his eyes is worth taking his vitriol for a few minutes. “Tuesday saved my life, you idiot. She saved my tree, and you want to shit down her throat? Are you for fucking real? What the hell did I see in you, you weasel?”
Jeff’s eyes almost bug out of his head, and I again allow him to speak.