“Cole decided to fight me. He was humiliated when I won.”
“Then there was this other girl who—”
“Gareth. Don’t make me kill you. Mom would get pissed.”
Lana was wiping at her mouth, but she couldn’t hide her grin. “Ookay. So Cole wants to hurt me in order to hurt you. I get that. He must not have thought I could take him.”
“You can’t.” Gareth’s face paled, the humor replaced by horror.
Hell, so did Christopher’s. The speculation in her eyes scared the crap out of him.
“He’s a wizard, sweetheart. He’ll be prepared to face another wizard.”
She cocked her hip and frowned. “So?”
“Mom always explained to us that witches were very powerful, but only if strong emotion was behind what they did.”
She nodded. “Like the witch who cursed your family.”
“Yes. And wizards are more like chess players, planning every move way in advance, prepared for every eventuality.”
She smirked. “Other than being cursed into werewolves.”
Chris blinked. “Well, yes. Although I understand it’s become standard practice to guard against that sort of thing now.”
She rolled her eyes. “Can’t imagine why.”
Christopher cleared his throat. “A wizard’s strength is less fluid, but requires less power at the end since we’ve already got the spells in place. They just require a trigger. A witch might hold a wizard off for a little while, but I believe the wizard would ultimately win because of that.”
“I think you believe that because you’ve never faced a pissed off witch before.”
He took her hands in his. “You don’t understand.”
“Then show me. I mean, didn’t I break the sickness spell? I think I can take a wizard.”
He blinked. She couldn’t seriously be asking… “No.”
“Why not?”
He squeezed her hands, horrified at the very idea. “No way in hell will I duel you!”
She sniffed. “You’re just afraid I’ll win.”
“Uh, guys?”
Christopher was outraged. “I do not think you’ll win! I would kick your ass.”
“You
“Guys?”
“Oh, I think I would!” He huffed.
“Please. All I’d have to do is wave a Milk Bone around and you’d be toast.”
Gareth got between them, holding up both hands. “Don’t you two think it’s a bit more important to figure out why Cole wants you dead?”
“Good question.” Christopher still wasn’t certain what had pushed Cole over the edge. He hadn’t been near the man in two years, and that last time had been at worst civil but cold.
Lana rolled her eyes. “Like I haven’t been asking the same thing.”
“Yesterday he threatened Lana. Unless I miss my guess that little head cold he gave Christopher was meant to be a great deal more uncomfortable than it turned out to be.”
Christopher lifted Lana’s hand to his lips. “Thanks to you.” He kissed her fingers, loving the soft blush that came over her.
“You’re welcome.” She took her hand back and resumed her pacing. “But we still don’t know what’s going on. I could see him trying to seduce me, or take me away for revenge, but murder?”
Christopher studied Lana. His little witch had hit on what had been bothering him since yesterday. “She’s right. Something much bigger is going on here.” Christopher reached out and stroked one of the few green leaves left on the plant. “Something Cole is willing to kill for.”
“I got nothing.” Lana sat back in the chair and rubbed wearily at her eyes. Across the kitchen Gareth was talking to someone on the phone, his voice low and urgent. In front of her, the laptop’s screen remained depressingly empty of answers.
Christopher handed her a can of soda with a weary sigh. “I’ve tried scrying, but Cole is blocked. And divining doesn’t seem to be getting me anywhere either.” He scrubbed at his face with his free hand. “It doesn’t help that most of my equipment is back at my house.”
She smiled, opening the can of soda. “Maybe your tarot cards are broke. Want to borrow mine?”
“No thanks.” He sat down next to her, casually draping an arm around her shoulders.
He gently stroked her hair. “Head hurt?”
Without even thinking about it she leaned into his touch. She’d always loved having her hair played with. “A little.”
Grammy came into the kitchen, her phone in her hand. “I’ve put out feelers among the witches. It’s a long shot, but maybe someone in our community has heard of or had dealings with Cole and can give us a clue what he’s up to.” She joined Lana and Chris at the kitchen table and put the phone down with a sigh. “Any luck?”
Lana shook her head. “Nope.”
“Darn.”
“I think I might know.” Gareth joined them at the table, looking a little wild-eyed. “It seems the king is considering naming his successor.”
“And?” Lana took a sip of her Coke.
“Rumor has it one of the people he’s considering is a Beckett.”
Lana choked. Christopher pounded her gently on the back. “And let me guess who the other person he’s considering is.”
“A Godwin.” Lana sat back with a groan. “Crap. Why focus on Chris, though?”
“Cole has always seen Chris as his greatest competition, but there’s no saying that Chris is the Beckett being considered, or that Cole is the Godwin.”
“Then that’s something we need to confirm.” Chris continued stroking her hair, soothing her despite the topic.
“So why go after me? Was it to lure Chris out?” The two men exchanged looks that had every hair on the back of her neck standing on end. “What are you two not telling me?”
“Whoa, look at the time!” Gareth stood and drained his iced tea. “Gotta run! Is there a hotel nearby I can stay at?”
Grammy glared at him and pointed. “Sit.” The power in her voice was unmistakable.
Gareth, looking startled, sat abruptly.
“Gareth—” The warning in Chris’s voice startled her.
The karmic backlash from forcing Gareth to speak could be bad, but it was too late.
Grammy had spoken; therefore Gareth would speak. “Now that Lana has answered the call, Chris’s life force is tied to hers. If she dies or ultimately rejects him, Chris will slowly fade away.”
Lana’s jaw dropped. “Are you telling me if I don’t
Chris winced. “Alannah…”
“It’s literally a life-and-death fuck?”
It was Lana’s turn to wince. “Sorry, Grammy.” She turned to Chris and smacked him on the arm. “When were you going to tell me this?”
He was glaring at Gareth, who looked horrified. “I wasn’t.”
“Why not?”
He turned his attention back to her, his expression softening. “Because I wanted you to choose
“What if I had said no?”
