Chapter 3
MEDDLING BEST FRIENDS AND MAGICAL MALFUNCTIONS
MURIEL
Muriel checked her rearview mirror for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling unusually paranoid.
Still no blacked-out SUVs or cold-eyed strangers riding her bumper.
The leather satchel in her passenger seat purred with contentment, warm against her reaching hand, but Muriel couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that had been clinging to her since her unexpected visit from Silas Corvus. He’d rattled her more than she cared to admit.
It was exactly why she’d started packing the moment after she’d called Jessie.
Her phone buzzed in the cupholder. Speak of the wolf.
“Hey, Jess.”
“Hey. Everything okay? I thought you’d be here by now.”
She would have, had she not taken several detours as a precautionary measure. “I’m taking the scenic route.”
“How close are you?”
“About 20 minutes out. I’ll see you soon.”
“You’d better, or I’m going to send the pack looking for you.”
The call disconnected, and Muriel couldn’t help but smile. Even concerned, Jessie had a way of lifting her spirits. She only hoped that by showing up with her recent discovery, she wasn’t bringing trouble to Jessie’s doorstep. She just didn’t know who else to turn to.
When your magic becomes too much to handle—and it will—
Her brief respite faded. The memory of Corvus's cold smile and the way his magic had slid over her made her shudder. The fact that he’d shown up the day after the grimoire had made itself known seemed too convenient to be coincidence.
Fifteen minutes later, the ambient magic that surrounded the preternatural community of Mythic hummed against her skin.
To say that the town itself was picturesque was an understatement.
One- and two-story brick buildings with flower boxes appeared up and down the main, tree-lined streets.
The town square was straight out of an idyllic community brochure, complete with flawless walkways and a granite fountain carved with images of the creatures who called Mythic home.
Decorative, ornate cast iron lampposts stood sentinel on every street corner.
It was charming. Quaint. Safe.
Or so it appeared. Mythic was home to a myriad of legendary creatures—some quite notorious—so safe was relative.
Muriel kept going until she reached Jessie's house—a sturdy two-story farmhouse with a wraparound porch and a huge yard, surrounded by thick, verdant forest.
She’d barely pulled into the driveway when the front door burst open, and Jessie came flying down the steps.
“Muriel!” She yanked open the car door before Muriel had even unbuckled. “You're here!”
“I'm here,” Muriel agreed, grinning as she was embraced in a bone-crushing hug.
“Can't breathe, Jess.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Jessie eased up and stepped back but kept her hands on Muriel’s shoulders, studying her face with those sharp wolf eyes that never missed a thing. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. You look tired and really stressed out.”
“I am tired and really stressed out.”
“Does it have anything to do with the bag that’s currently vibrating in your front seat?” Jessie asked, peering into the car over Muriel’s shoulder.
That’s only part of it. “It's complicated.” Muriel grabbed the satchel while Jessie pulled her overnight bag from the back seat.
“I bet. Let’s get you settled, then you can tell me what’s going on.”
Jessie led her into the house and through the living room filled with sturdy, oversized, and tactilely pleasing furniture and an abundance of toys, to the guest room at the far side of the house.
“Quietest room in the house, which, to be fair, isn’t really all that quiet,” Jessie said with a grin. “But you’ll be as far removed from the daily chaos as possible.”
“Speaking of, where are my rambunctious little nieces and nephews?”
“Matt took them for a run with other juveniles in the pack. It’s the only thing that tires them out,” Jessie said as she put Muriel’s overnight bag on the bed. “So we have the place to ourselves for a few hours. I’ll make tea while you unpack—or is this more of a hard liquor situation?”
“Honestly? Probably both.”
Jessie’s eyes widened slightly before she nodded. “Black tea and brandy it is. Take your time. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”
It didn’t take long to unpack her overnight bag.
The remainder of her simple wardrobe was in the trunk of her car, along with the personal items she refused to leave behind.
Something told her she wouldn’t be returning to the old cottage anytime soon.
It no longer seemed safe, especially since Corvus’s visit.
When she made her way out to the kitchen, Jessie was waiting. The table was set with mugs, a steaming kettle, and a full bottle of brandy, as well as a plate filled with assorted cheeses, crackers, and sliced meats.
“So domestic,” Muriel teased.
“Wolf pups are always hungry. We have a whole fridge in the garage filled with trays of snacks. Now, enough stalling. Talk to me.”
Muriel sank down onto the chair and wrapped her hands around the Shifters Do It Better mug. Now that she was in Jessie’s warm, cheery yellow kitchen, the weight on her shoulders felt lighter.
“I’m not even sure where to start,” she said finally.
“The beginning is always good.”
“Right. Okay. Well, my mother reached out to me.”
Jessie’s eyes widened. “A message from beyond the grave?”
“Not exactly. I think it was something she set up before she died.”
“Okay,” Jessie said slowly, but there was no trace of disbelief in her tone or expression. That was the thing about preternaturals. They tended to have open minds about that sort of thing.
“A few nights ago, I found something my mother left hidden. An ancient grimoire in a secret chamber beneath the greenhouse. When I opened it...” She swallowed hard. “It showed me women being hunted. Tortured.” She raised her eyes to meet Jessie’s. “They looked like her. Like… me.”
The reaction was immediate. Despite the warm summer air, the temperature dropped suddenly and frost formed on the windows. The houseplants Jessie had scattered around the kitchen began to turn brown and shrivel.
“Whoa,” Jessie breathed, her breath visible.
“And that started happening,” Muriel said. “My magic is overflowing, for lack of a better word, especially when I’m feeling strongly about something. Though to be fair, that was happening before I found the book. I think that might be what set things in motion.”
“Like a magical trigger?”
Muriel nodded.
“No wonder you’re freaked out. Tell me more about this book.”
“I’m not sure I can. I know it’s ancient and it seems to have attached itself to me. The pages are filled with symbols I can’t read, but can feel, if that makes any sense.”
“Oh, Ree.”
“There’s more. The day after that happened, some creepy guy showed up at my house.”
Jessie sat up straighter, her innate protective instincts flaring. “What guy?”
“He said his name was Silas Corvus and that he knew my mother a long time ago. Then he told me that my magic would become unmanageable unless someone taught me how to control it.”
“How the hell would he know that?”
“I don’t know. He had a magical signature. Maybe he was able sense it somehow.”
“Let me guess. He offered to help.”
Muriel nodded.
“I hope you told him where he could shove it.”
That was what Jessie would have done, but Muriel was, by nature, non-confrontational. “I didn’t say anything. He left me his card though. That’s when I called you. I don’t know what’s happening, but I’m scared. I need answers, and Mythic is the only place I might find them.”
“You did the right thing coming here.” Jessie stood abruptly and started pacing, which was never a good sign. Jessie only paced when she was working up to something. “And as for finding answers, I might have already done something.”
It was Muriel’s turn to narrow her eyes. “What kind of something?”
“After you called, I went into town and talked to Brandon. I know things are weird between you two, but he’s a good guy. If anyone can help you figure this out, it’s him. I mean, he owns a magical bookstore full of ancient texts and—”
“Jessie.” Muriel held up a hand. “Breathe.”
She sucked in a breath. “Are you mad?”
“No,” Muriel said honestly. “In fact, I had the same thought myself. About him being able to help, I mean.”
“Oh. Good.”
“But Jess, you have to understand. I wouldn’t ask him if I had any other choice.”
“I know. But like I said, Brandon's different. Don’t look at me like that. I've spent months around him. He's patient and kind, and he's never once tried to use his magic to manipulate or control anyone.”
“That you know of.”
“That I know of,” Jessie conceded. “But Matt trusts him.”
“Because Brandon helped him find you.”
“True. But still.” Jessie sat back down, putting her hands around Muriel’s.
“Look, I'm not saying you have to marry the guy—although that would be fucking awesome.
I'm just saying maybe tell him what you told me. Let him look at the book. See if he recognizes it or knows what it is. You came here for answers, right?”
“Right.”
It was the other stuff that was hard to navigate. Like how she felt when she thought about him, or the way he had a starring role in her late-night, steamy dreams. She couldn’t afford to lose her heart to a mage whose interest might be self-serving.
“He sent me a book,” Muriel admitted quietly. “A really valuable one on earth magic. Like, genuinely ancient, worth-more-than-my-house real.”
Jessie's eyes went wide. “He sent you a priceless magical text?”
“Yes.”
“You're worried about his intentions.”
“Wouldn't you be?”
“I don’t know. I think I’d be more flattered that a gorgeous, powerful mage was clearly into me and sending me expensive gifts.”
“Jess—”
“I'm serious! Ree, the man sent you a one-of-a-kind book on earth magic. That's not manipulation. That's courtship. Good old-fashioned, romantic, bookish courtship.”
Heat crept up Muriel’s neck. “My magic goes haywire whenever I think about him.”
“Yeah, I noticed.” Jessie waved her hand around the kitchen, which now looked like a botanical garden.
The plants that had shriveled earlier had doubled in size and come back twice as full.
“But that's not your magic being stolen or manipulated.
That's your magic responding to attraction. There's a difference.”
Muriel wanted to believe that. She was even willing to admit that her attraction to him was genuine. It was the sincerity of his attraction that worried her. She didn’t want to end up pregnant and alone like her mother had.
“I’ll tell you what,” Jessie said. “If so much as an unkind word passes over his lips where you’re concerned, I’ll personally kick his ass. And so will Matt. You're pack, Ree, and pack has your back, always.”
Moisture filled her eyes as the words settled in her chest and squeezed. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear Jessie say that. “Thank you.”
“No thanks necessary. Ever. You and me, we’re ride or die. Always.”
Warmth and gratitude filled Muriel, so much so that the pothos hanging over the sink now spread across the entire counter.
“So,” Jessie said, clapping her hands together. “Tonight, we grill and chill. Tomorrow, you’re going to see Brandon. Agreed?”
Muriel summoned her courage. “Agreed.”
Tomorrow, she would ask for help from a mage whose brilliant blue eyes haunted her dreams, and whose thoughtfulness terrified her almost as much as his magic did.