you’d choose to become a supe. It’s true Ray was rough around the edges and cranky, but Nick hadn’t witnessed what he’d been capable of on the journey, as I had. In the end Ray had defended me and there had been a grudging respect growing between us. I desperately hoped, as a supe, he would come around to seeing our side of things.
If not, it was going to be a tough road. But there was no going back now.
I pulled away from the curb. “Where to?”
2
Tally directed me around a chain of lakes inside the city. Halfway around Lake of the Isles, she pointed to a huge mansion perched on the tip of a peninsula. One I’d seen a thousand times. “Pull around back,” she ordered. “The gate knows it’s me.”
I wasn’t going to question the gate’s prowess.
The long driveway disappeared as it wrapped behind the house. Once the vehicle crossed the boundary line from the street, a current of energy pulsed through my body. Strong wards were up, and if they hadn’t liked us, they would’ve slapped us back, like a flyswatter eliminating a pesky problem.
Once we were through the main gate, the backyard opened up. I followed the driveway as it curved to the left. Tall shrubs ran around the perimeter of the yard. It was completely private from any curious onlookers. Up ahead was a huge garage with three stalls. Tally snapped her wrist at the windshield, and feathery lines, almost undetectable, shot out from her fingertips.
The third garage door on the right opened.
“Drive in there.”
I maneuvered the beast into the stall with only inches to spare on either side. The moment I tugged it into park, the ground beneath us jerked and rattled and the vehicle began to sink. “I’m assuming we’re on a lift.” I angled my head at Tally, laying it on the headrest. “Either that or earthquakes have finally found the upper Midwest.”
Nick tried to roll his window down, but it was locked into place. “It’s an underground lair.” There was a hint of awe in his voice and I knew he was refraining from making a Batman joke. We didn’t have anything cool like this up in the north woods where I grew up. No need for underground lairs when you had a thousand acres separating you from the world.
“Of course the entrance is underground,” Tally said. “This is a Coven, one of the largest in the country. We protect ourselves well.”
The hydraulic lift squeaked as it came to a stop and the Humvee bounced on its gigantic tires as it settled.
The room was well lit and, unsurprisingly, held a dozen witches.
Shifters and witches were not friendly, but they weren’t exactly enemies either. Tally had already indicated she’d known who my father was before she allowed her niece to work for me, so it was not out of the question to think these witches also knew who I was. It irritated me, because for the past seven years I’d been under the assumption I’d created the perfect cover. No one had seemed to lift an eyebrow or question me at all. I’d believed my alias had been foolproof. But I’d been mistaken.
The supernatural community had indeed been onto me, possibly from the beginning. I knew this for certain, because the day after I’d become the first female wolf on the planet, I’d been brutally attacked. The rogue attack had been planned, and if that wasn’t enough, I’d found out my building super had been a supe himself. We were still trying to figure out who he was and who he’d worked for, but it had been no accident he’d been chosen for the job.
“We’re not getting out to a roomful of hostiles,” Rourke said, his voice low, broaching no arguments.
“Cool your jets.” Tally opened her door. “They’re harmless unless I tell them otherwise.”
“I can taste their power from here,” he said. “And it’s far from harmless. They’re primed and ready to go. Tell them to stand down or we don’t move.”
I glanced back at Rourke and raised a brow. I wasn’t going to argue with him, but I wasn’t detecting the same threat. I inhaled, pulling air lightly over my tongue. Their combined power prodded against my senses, but it didn’t raise any internal alarms. Not like Selene or the Demon Lord had. My wolf hadn’t even bothered to get up to investigate once the lift had stopped.
A witch with long golden hair burst through a door on the other side of the room and hustled toward us. “Magdalene just had a vision,” she called, addressing Tally directly. “She wants you.” Then she grimaced. “And she said to bring along the … female wolf.”
Tally nodded and took a step forward, sliding off her black skullcap as she slammed the car door. White hair cascaded down to the middle of her back. It was a lot longer than I would’ve guessed, and actually kind of pretty. It made her appear decades younger.
I hadn’t expected that.
“Keep your fingers at the ready, ladies,” she ordered. “As of right now, we are on a yellow alert. The sorcerers are on the hunt. These are my guests”—she jabbed her thumb behind her—“and they are not to be harmed … unless, of course, they draw first blood.” She glanced back into the car. “Good enough for you?”
Rourke scowled but opened his door.
Nick and I followed.
I made my way around the vehicle, my internal feelers open despite my unaffected wolf. This Coven hadn’t accepted Marcy, and even though her aunt was the most powerful witch in the country—and presided over the Coven—Marcy hadn’t been voted in. Witches were expected to perform precisely every time. Their rituals and coming-of-age tasks were legendary. Marcy was extremely powerful but had a habit of misfiring under pressure. Tally may have been able to overrule to let her niece in, if Marcy’s last task hadn’t been such a spectacular blunder. Over the years, on those rare occasions we drank together, she’d given me snippets of a disjointed tale —something to do with a local donut shop, naked coeds, and a dead rooster.
Needless to say, these witches were no friends of mine.
We followed Tally through the curious spectators, who had stepped back to give us some space. Rourke had waited for me and ushered me in front. Nick had taken up the rear.
“Nice assets, cat,” one witch cackled. “Those tattoos are rockin’.”
“She doesn’t feel strong to me. I could take her.”
“She smells like a garbage dump.”
I had on a road-worn pair of leggings and a wrinkled T-shirt. I’d showered only once in the past few days. My wolf growled.
“That cat is hawt.”
Rourke ignored them like a champ, his hands firmly planted around my waist, his power sparking me through my shirt.
“I like the brown-haired one. What is he?”
“Smells like a total fox to me.”
All these comments were for my benefit. These witches weren’t challenging me for Pack status, but they were challenging me nonetheless. My wolf was ramping herself up, getting more agitated by the second.
“She does travel with some delicious men. I don’t care if he smells like a mangy feline—I’d still do him.” Several witches snickered.
“I would totally fuc—”
