Shadow of the Wolf

Grams shook her head. “Cleveland.”

“The court? Already?”

Grams nodded.

“Whoa.”

Zachary lifted his hands from Lana’s waist, which was a very good thing.

Christopher had been wondering how pissed his mom would be if Zachary came for Thanksgiving minus arms. “Wait wait wait. The court. Now?” He pulled out of Lana’s arms and began pacing. “I know I have to swear fealty and all that, but shouldn’t I have more training before going to court?”

Lana giggled. “Silly. The court will be your trainer.” She waved her arm around at the purple great room. “This was supposed to be a simple illusion spell, right?”

Zach grimaced. “Right.”

Annabelle smirked. “Be grateful I didn’t ask you to change your eye color to purple.

You’d look like Barney.”

Christopher choked, covering his mouth with his hand.

Lana pointed at him. “I wouldn’t laugh if I were you. Everyone associated with him could have looked like Grape Apes too.” She blinked, her hand going to her neck. She turned to Zach, laughing. “No spells!”

Zach was looking down at his hands. “But… I can’t even cast a basic shield.”

Annabelle patted Zach on the back. “Of course not. You’ve been learning from wizards.” She smiled, and somehow Christopher was afraid. “By the time the court is done with you, shields should come easier than breathing. It’ll be the other lessons you’ll need to worry about.” Grams turned her dark-eyed stare Christopher’s way. “Now what is this about a duel?” She crossed her arms. “And how is my granddaughter involved?”

The doorbell rang before he could answer. “I’ll get it!”

He ran for the front door, hearing the sounds of Zachary and Lana describing Cole’s latest threats to her grandmother. Without looking through the peephole, he pulled open the door.

He nearly sobbed. Today just kept getting better and better. Edward and Marjory Beckett stood on his step, his mother cool and icy in her pale blue jacket, his father’s salt and pepper hair rumpled as usual. “Hi, Mom. Dad.”

His father paused long enough to give him a hug, his golden eyes filled with anxiety.

“Gareth?”

“My study.”

His father rushed passed him towards the study, barely acknowledging anyone else in his need to see his injured child.

“Christopher.” His mother glided past him, pulling her light wool jacket off and handing it to him. “Where are your other brothers?”

He happily threw his brothers to the wolf. “Zachary is practicing some spells in the great room, and Daniel is with Gareth in my study.”

She walked into the great room. “Zachary, you know better than to…” She stopped and slowly looked around. “Christopher, when did you redecorate?”

“Long story.” He walked over to Lana and pulled her to him, tucking her under his shoulder. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Alannah and her grandmother, Mrs. Evans. Lana, Annabelle, this is my mother, Marjory Beckett.”

His mother stiffened. “Annabelle Evans.”

Grammy smiled, her gaze never leaving his mother. “Nice to meet you, Mrs.

Beckett.”

“Matriarch of the Evans coven?”

Annabelle’s smile was full of teeth. If Chris didn’t know any better he’d call her the predator. “The one and only.”

His mother took a deep breath. “And Alannah is also an Evans, I presume?”

Christopher winced. “Evans-Beckett.” Lana elbowed him in the side with a frown.

His mother turned, her frown equally dire. “Really?”

“Hello, Mrs. Beckett.” Lana held out her hand with a smile.

His mother eyed the shadow mark on the side of her neck and sighed. “A witch, Christopher?”

Lana’s hand dropped, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

Uh-oh. “Alannah is my mate, Mother.”

His mother waved her hand airily. “Don’t call me Mother in that tone of voice. I’ve wiped your poopy bottom; I deserve at least some respect. Besides, I have no problems per se with witches. It’s your father I’m worried about. You know how he gets.” She sniffed. “Are you the one who turned Christopher’s great room purple?”

“That was me, Mom.”

She turned to Zachary, both brows in her hairline. Not a good sign. “What spell were you attempting?”

Zachary took a step back, closer to Annabelle. “I was trying an illusion spell on the flowers.”

Mom blinked. “Illusion spell.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Zachary.” It was said in that tone of voice mothers everywhere had, weary and sad and somehow still filled with affection.

Lana fingered the mark on her neck, the exact same mark his mother wore on her neck. “Trust me, it could have been worse. We could have been instant spokeswomen for Welch’s grape juice.”

Christopher buried his face in her hair and tried not to laugh when his mother rolled her eyes. He slowly pulled her out of the room and left Zachary to explain to their mother what was going on. He wasn’t certain he wanted to be there for that. Besides, if anyone could handle his mother, it would be Annabelle Evans. The two were either going to hate each other or love one another and he wasn’t sure which prospect frightened him more.

“Chris?” His father was holding the door to the study open. “There’s something you need to see.”

He exchanged a worried look with Lana before moving into the study. “What?”

Daniel turned the Registry around and pointed to a single entry. “Cole.”

He read the entry and sucked in a breath. Why in hell was he so surprised? “That explains a lot.”

Lana was frowning. “I thought you told me he was a wizard.”

“He was a wizard once upon a time.” Christopher shook his head. “Enough hatred can send a man down a path no one could predict.”

She was shaking her head. “But that’s supposed to be impossible. No one can go from wizard to warlock like that.”

“Not unless they already had some warlock blood in them.” Daniel turned the book back around. “See here? The Godwins have an ancestor who married a warlock, two generations before our families intermarried.”

Chris felt like he’d been socked in the jaw. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

His father nodded. “There’s a direct line down from that ancestor to the one who married our ancestor.” He braced himself on the desk. “It means a warlock could also be born into the Becketts.”

“Fuck.” Gareth sat gingerly in the chair behind the desk. “So where’s the witch in the family? I mean, how did Zach wind up one?”

Lana shook her head. “Witches are spontaneous, remember? We tend to show up in the same families over and over again, but sometimes a witch is born into a wizard or warlock family and, unless someone picks up on it or checks the Registry, they never know who or what they really are. Sometimes we find them and try to train them, but how well they do depends on how much they’re willing to accept.”

“We have another problem than Zach’s spontaneous witchdom.” Daniel stared at Chris, his expression grim.

Chris nodded. “We’ve been preparing for a wizard.”

“When we should have been preparing for a warlock.” Lana parked her butt on the edge of his work table, her fingers automatically going to the emerald ring. She toyed with it before slipping it absently onto her finger. Chris tried to focus on the problem at hand rather than what she’d just done. “We need to get Grammy and your mom in here.”

“I agree.” His brothers looked at him like he’d just offered to share office space with Jaws and the