Chapter 4
Sara was more than a little consumed with her drinks-buying warlock, and I had to tap her on the arm three times before she
stopped trying to devour him.
“I’m thinking about taking off,” I said, staring into her flushed face. The warlock waited just behind her, pushing back strands
of his dirty-blond hair. He wasn’t as tall or built as Logan, but he was still a big guy. “Ready to head out now?”
She shifted her gaze to him and shook her head. Lust all but dripped from her. “I think I’ll stay out for a few hours. Don’t
wait up for me.”
I hesitated and turned to the warlock. “What’s your fucking name?”
To his credit, he didn’t snap back, just smiled as if I were amusing. “Alaric Holder. I’m part of your parents’ coven.”
He was? I’d never seen him in my life.
“Nice, Alaric. I’ll know where to find you to murder your ass if you hurt her. We clear?”
His amusement didn’t go anywhere. “Crystal clear. She’s safe with me.”
Words didn’t mean shit. “I’m going to need your phone number and to see some identification.”
He didn’t even hesitate as he pulled his phone from his pocket and produced a picture of his Blessed Souls admission certificate, along with rattling off his number, which I added to my phone.
“I’ll be fine,” Sara said with a chuckle, “but I love you for caring . . .”
She trailed off as her eyes went wide, focused behind me.
A blast of energy slid over my skin, and heat caressed my spine as I let out a sigh. “Thought I told you to keep your ass
over there.”
Logan’s hand glided over my shoulder and wrapped possessively around the base of my throat. His hold didn’t hurt, but it was
firm as he tilted my head back until I stared up into his face. “Looked like you needed my help,” he drawled.
This fucker was playing with me, because the situation was clearly well in hand.
“Logan Kingston . . .” Alaric dragged Sara closer and sidled himself in front of her—he was awfully protective for a warlock
who’d met her not even an hour ago. “What are you doing here in Spokane?”
Was this asshole really that famous?
Logan didn’t remove his gaze from mine. “This is where my mate is, elemental. Where she is, is where I am.” He released me,
and I felt oxygen flood my lungs, even though he hadn’t been holding me tight enough to restrict airflow.
“Mate!” Sara squeaked again, trying to nudge around Alaric.
Mate? What in the Hel?
The magical community rarely used that archaic term these days, preferring husband and wife, in the way of humans. Our ceremonies were done differently, but within the parameters of getting a marriage license.
But before we acclimated, we had mates.
Mates and mate bonds.
“What are you talki—”
He gripped my hips, spun me to face him, and lifted me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. One of his big hands wrapped
around my ass to keep me from flashing the entire club. “She’ll see you tomorrow, Sara,” he said, striding off, my bag dangling
down his back too. The crowd parted for him, recognizing the predator in their midst.
I heard Sara call after me. “You okay?”
“Yep,” I shouted back, having no idea if that was true.
Logan was about as safe as stumbling into a pack of wolves and hoping they wouldn’t eat you alive. But he’d told me that he’d
explain our past, and with him throwing out the word mate, I needed those answers more than ever.
Outside, icy air hit my exposed skin, and I slapped at his shoulder. “Put me down, Logan. I can fucking walk.”
To my surprise, he set me on my feet, keeping hold of my hips until I was steady on my heeled boots. Thank the goddess I hadn’t
had more than one witch wine; I needed my wits about me around Logan.
“Thank you,” I said, watching him to find his expression revealed nothing.
His eyes though . . .
They fucking burned.
Scorched me to the pavement and my hands trembled as I tucked them against my sides. Logan shrugged off his long wool coat
and draped it over my shoulders.
Most of the time I’d known this spellcaster, he’d been putting me in his clothes . . . surrounding me in his warmth and scent.
I fucking hated it.
I fucking loved it.
“Where are you taking me?” I asked. “And why, for the love of Selene, did you just refer to me as your mate?”
He held out a hand. “Do you trust me, Paisley?”
“Not even a little.”
The burn of his eyes increased. “Good.”
I took his hand anyway because I needed answers.
He led me into a small alleyway near the club. It looked deserted, and I gasped when Logan opened a portal right there in the fucking human world with no prior arrangements.
“Are you allowed to do that?” I said sharply, looking around for witnesses.
Logan shrugged. “Define allowed.”
He loved to use that line, and I didn’t bother to reply. Clearly Logan was above such trivialities as the law or the High
Council of Magic, and I honestly didn’t care tonight. Between the wine, his energy, and my own powers, I had much larger worries.
Our hands remained linked, but Logan didn’t force me into his portal. He gave me the choice to go with him or not, and I wondered
what would happen if I just spun on one booted heel and left this alley. Left the spellcaster who was as dangerous as he was
destructive.
His expression remained cocky, as if he expected me to run, which had me stiffening my resolve. Straightening my spine, I
stepped into the unknown. We traveled through the magic together and Logan’s hold on me never wavered.
On the other side, I found myself staring up at a set of wrought iron gates that rivaled Weatherstone’s. These didn’t have
glittery gold accents but were solid black, with just a large K in the center. Swirls of lavender-scented air moved around us, and it was warmer than back in Spokane.
“This isn’t your dad’s place, right?” I scrutinized the shadows for Rafael Kingston.
Logan’s laugh was low and strangely soothing. “I’d never bring you near him, Precious. You most definitely wouldn’t be safe, and the last year of keeping you alive would have been for nothing.” He had kept me alive, and I still had no clue why.
When Logan approached, the gates opened. The scenery beyond remained shrouded in darkness, which he could have easily lit
up with magic but didn’t. A shiver traced down my spine at how alone I was with a spellcaster who I desired but didn’t trust.
Still, if Logan wanted me dead, he could have killed me hundreds of times at Weatherstone. He’d promised me that I’d be safe
tonight, and I believed him.
We were silent as we walked up a wide driveway. “We’re in Michigan,” Logan said, surprising me by freely revealing information.
“This was where Mom grew up.”
The mention of his mom twisted my heart until my chest ached. The knowledge of my power and how she died wouldn’t stop bugging
me. Mom might not be a night witch, but she’d been there the day Logan’s mom died. Her best friend had been killed by a shadowy creature, and I couldn’t help but think it was still somehow all connected to me.
“Is it your dad’s house now?” I asked, forcing those worrisome thoughts away.
Logan shook his head. “No, she left everything to me. A full property portfolio at six years old.”
My steps slowed, and he slowed with me as I tried to comprehend how much he’d lost at such a young age. “I’m sorry you had
to go through that, Logan. I wish you didn’t have to grow up without your mom.”
His expression was somber as he lifted his free hand and brushed it across my cheek.
“She wasn’t the only one I lost,” he murmured, shaking his head.
“You were beautiful as a child, Paisley. I can remember the first time you raced across the park and tackle-hugged me. I mean, I’m sure you did it before that, but I don’t remember those times.
I remember you at four, fierce, and so loyal. You defended me against my dad.”
“I did?” Flickers of memories, there but out of reach. “Was your dad an asshole even back then?”
His lips tugged into a brief smile. “In a manner. He wasn’t as hard as he is today, but he’s always expected a lot of me.
You didn’t like when someone bossed your Logie around.”
I snorted. “Fuck. That’s kind of cute, actually.”
Even in the low light of the moon, I could see the twinkle in Logan’s eyes. “Better than ‘Stalkcaster.’”
Heat infused my cheeks, and I hoped the darkness hid my flushed face. “How do you know that? You really are a stalker.”
He didn’t even try to deny it. “When it comes to you, Paisley Hallistar, I have no fucking limits.”
With that, he tugged me toward his house once more. The driveway was paved in a gorgeous gray mottled stone that reflected
the moonlight. When the house came into view, it was as impressive as Weatherstone. Huge, it sprawled over what looked like
an acre of land, and went up three stories. I expected it would be Gothic in style, but instead it screamed country Hamptons,
with wraparound porches, light gray weatherboard walls, white shutters, earthy stone accents, and pillars leading up the front
steps.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
Logan pulled me closer to his side, his warmth seeping into me. “Mom was a country girl. She wanted me to experience this
as well, countering Dad, who enjoyed penthouses and glass cages. This is my sanctuary. A sanctuary I’ve never shared with
anyone.”
I glanced up at him, my lashes obscuring him briefly as I blinked through my confusion. “No one? Like ever?”
We’d reached the three steps leading up to the front porch, which held rocking chairs and a suspended swing lounge attached to the white rafters above. “Only Noah and Tobias. There’s no one else I trust enough with this location.”
I knew Noah, his giant friend who spoke very little but scared many with his mere presence. Tobias was a new one, though,
and it reminded me that despite the odd familiarity I felt around him and our shared history, there was a lot I didn’t know
about this warlock. Everything, really.
“Why would you trust me enough to bring me here?” I whispered, my throat unexpectedly tighter. “Why would you call me mate
when we were all but enemies at school?”
None of this made any sense to me.
Logan had blown hot and cold constantly during my freshman year, but now he was here, acting as if we were connected on a
cosmic level.
“Last year I was playing a role,” he said with a shrug. “One designed to keep you safe from Rafael until I knew the best way
to thwart his plans. But now that your powers are revealed, I’m fairly sure it’s too late for concealment.”
Rafael, the fucking thorn in my family’s side.
Logan moved closer to me. “I also can’t stay away from you any longer. You’re here because it’s time for you to understand
that what’s mine is yours, Paisley. That’s how mate bonds work.”
As I opened my mouth to demand more answers about this alleged mate bond, he added, “You’ll learn everything in time, but just trust that we are more than you see. You must feel it to truly understand.”
With that, he tugged on my hand and I was stunned enough to silently follow him onto the porch, where the scent of cedar wrapped
around me.
The front door opened without his touch, as if the entire house was keyed to Logan’s energy.
“I’m going to give you this address,” he said as we crossed the threshold, “so you know you can always run here. Even if everything
goes to shit. Even if I’m not here to protect you.”
My heart dropped at the very thought, and my throat was instantly thick with emotions.
Fuck, I couldn’t fall for Logan, and I could never rely on him either.
“You run here, Paisley,” he finished seriously, “and not even my dad will find you.”
With that ominous statement, light filled the house, illuminating the stunning interior. To our right, wide-planked timber
floors, shiny and mahogany, led into a sitting room with cream walls and large bay windows to showcase what would no doubt
be a magnificent view.
We didn’t enter that room, though, ending up in a huge kitchen with cheery yellow walls, off-white cabinets, and speckled
granite counters. “Are you hungry?” he asked, releasing my hand. There was a slow slide as our fingers separated, and I shivered
at the loss of his power mingling with mine. It was warm enough in here that I didn’t need his heavy coat, and when I shrugged
it off and held it out to him, his heated gaze ran over my skimpy dress.
“Thanks for the loan,” I said as he draped it over one of the pretty white stools at the kitchen island. I ditched my bag
as well and left it on the same stool.
“Anytime, Precious. Now sit,” he said briskly. “I’ll make us food.”
I all but collapsed onto another stool, and Logan, with an infuriatingly delicious smirk, strode around the island while he rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.
A shock of bronze skin and colored tattoos stood out against the stark white, and I tried not to drool over the sexy spellcaster.
I’d never had a chance to simply observe Logan, not like this. Relaxed and without the hard mask he’d always worn at Weatherstone.
He was comfortable in this house, and there was a softer cast to the powerful warlock.
“Do you like pasta?” he asked, startling me from my thoughts.
“I love pasta,” I said quickly, hoping he hadn’t noticed me examining him like I’d have to identify him in a lineup later.
“Do you need any help?”
He shook his head. “Sit and talk to me while I cook. Let me look after you tonight.”
Goddess of all that was holy.
I almost combusted in my chair.
An angry and sarcastic Logan was sexy.
An attentive and caring Logan was absolutely devastating.
I was completely and totally screwed.