thought that someone like her might scare off a hound made her smile.
He smiled back, more a grim twist of his mouth than the full, mischievous grin of the night before. It’d be a lie to say she didn’t enjoy his discomfort a little bit. Maybe
Fen quickly closed the distance between them. Funny, he hadn’t really seemed like a hound last night. Not like someone who could take down a demon without even using a weapon. But now she could see it. Every movement spare and clean, he moved like a hound. Fluid. Precise. Deadly. She still thought he was too skinny, but there was muscle beneath the loose clothing. Muscle, taut skin and maybe a few more tattoos like the one she’d caught a glimpse of the other night. Heat warmed her cheeks. She should probably stop thinking about what was beneath his clothes.
And she should stop staring.
She turned back to the shop. Fen came to a stop beside her and followed her gaze. An old wooden sign attached to an iron arm swung with a whining, creaking noise in the wind. In addition to being the clan witch, Lois was also the town florist. She was doing the flowers for the wedding and charging Raquel’s father an arm and a leg for the work.
Fen broke the silence. “She’s a tough old bird.”
Raquel looked at him askance. “She’s a ravening harpy.”
“Yes, that.” Fen grinned, that flash of a smile, gone as quickly as it came. He cleared his throat and in a cautious tone, asked, “So, last night didn’t scare you off?”
“I’m still here. Thanks to you and your warning. I told my mom I knew about the surges and that staved off an explosion from her. Christian soothed her feathers this morning at brunch.”
She could feel the weight of his gaze but kept her attention on the shop. There was no movement inside and the closed sign was up. Lois had said noon. Even if the door hadn’t been spell-locked Raquel would have known the coven was inside. Their gathered magic vibrated like a gentle hum below her feet. She’d bet money they were in the basement.
“Are you and Christian all right then?”
“We haven’t had a chance to talk. My mom ambushed him as soon as he came through the door this morning. I almost felt sorry for him.”
“Almost?”
A blast of wind drove a crumpled piece of newspaper across the sidewalk, plastering it to the side of her leg. She peeled it off and stuffed it into the bin beside the door before turning to look at Fen. “What did you tell him exactly?”
“That he should make an effort to woo you.”
“Woo me?” She smiled. “Is that some kind of euphemism?”
“No. You know what I mean and so did he. I didn’t...I didn’t go and repeat our conversation word for word if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t do that—
“I’m not your clan yet.”
“Sure you are.”
“Christian said the hunt went well last night,” she said. “Brian is okay, right?”
A complicated look crossed Fen’s face. “He’s healed.”
Something about the tone of his voice didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t think of a good way to ask him about it. Before she made up her mind about whether to pry, he changed the subject. “Christian said you apprenticed for a while to a clan historian?”
She nodded. “Kathy made sure I had a good education. She wanted to make sure that when I came into my power, I’d know what to do with it. Historian. Healer. Folklore. Metaphysics...”
“You didn’t happen to ever come across a way to break a mate bond, did you?”
Her stomach flipped over. “No. Once triggered, the bond is permanent until the mate dies.” She paused. “Not that I’m recommending that as a way out.”
His gaze slid back to hers, warm hazel eyes framed by spiky black lashes. “Don’t worry. We’re all pretty fond of Julia.”
“Julia? Then you weren’t asking for yourself?”
She felt relieved by that and then vaguely guilty. It was none of her business to have any sort of opinion about who Fen chose to mate with. A faint wash of color touched his cheekbones and he ducked his head. “Not me, no. Unless you want to tell me how to avoid ending up like Brian.”
“Well, that one’s easy. Don’t fall in love.”
“From what I’ve seen, love doesn’t necessarily have to be involved.”
She shook her head. “You’re wrong about that. For hounds, it does matter. Love. Consent. The physical act just provides an anchor for the magic.”
“Guess I’ll just have to stay away from anchors then.” He shrugged and glanced back at the door. “She won’t eat you, you know. Her bark’s worse than her bite, and I’m something of an expert on that particular subject.”
“I don’t mind her bark. At least with Lois, I know where I stand.”
He studied her again and Raquel could almost hear the wheels turning. He thought she was talking about Christian, but she wasn’t. Sadly, she knew exactly where Christian stood. “Everyone’s been nice. It makes it harder to figure out who you’re friends really are.”
“I can help with that.” He tipped his head toward the shop. “Lois is
“Of course,” she echoed because he seemed to expect it.
“Aiden’s fair and Grace has had her own share of trouble adjusting. I suspect she’s sizing you up as an ally. She wasn’t raised clan and hasn’t lived here long herself. At the very least, she’ll be sympathetic.”
Raquel hadn’t heard that Grace was an outsider, though now that Fen mentioned it, some of the interactions she’d witnessed last night made more sense. “Grace was a runner?”
“Her parents were. I can see you two becoming friends. You’ll get along well, I think.”
“Maybe you can set us up on a playdate.”
She regretted the sharpness in her tone when he frowned. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she was ashamed of it. Her nose was running. She fished out a crumpled tissue from her pocket and blew it soundly. Fen looked on, bemused.
Tucking her tissue away, she asked, “What about you?”
“Me? I’ve got your back, Rocky.” He took her by the shoulders and pushed her toward the door. “Now get in there and start swinging.”
She grabbed the knob and disabled the simple spell without thinking about it, surprised at how easily it slid away. It happened sometimes when she wasn’t concentrating. She watched Fen disappear into the diner two doors down, shook her head and went inside.
A sign that said Coven with an arrow beneath it pointed toward the basement stairs. It was something of a presumptuous title. Lois’s witches weren’t really witches, they were men and women with just enough talent and training to work the simple spells—drawing rain from a thunderhead, unlocking a spelled door. Kathy called her small group of people with that kind of low-level talent her friends and students, not her coven.
Raquel couldn’t look down on them though. For all the power she had bottled up in her, she couldn’t accomplish much more than they could. She was a dud—incredible potential, more power than anyone had seen in generations, but she couldn’t tap into it no matter how hard she tried. She knew she had to tell these people the truth, she was just picking her moment. Best to get the lay of the land before she lobbed that particular grenade.
First, she’d find out how bad the problem was. She’d speak to Christian and to Aiden, put the ball in their court. Her mother disagreed. She didn’t want to tell them anything until after the wedding.
About ten people were gathered in the basement, all of them sitting on the floor except for Lois. She sat in a wooden chair with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes closed. They were feeding her power. Raquel could
