Shadow of the Wolf

Chapter Five

Grammy had insisted that Chris call her Annabelle. And he did, striking up a relaxed conversation over ham and cheese sandwiches and barbeque potato chips, sitting in her kitchen at Grammy’s comfortable ebony stained banquette. He’d even offered to sit on one of the long benches behind the table, his back to the wall, leaving the chairs for Lana and Grammy. He was calm, polite, a total gentleman.

She wondered what he was up to.

“So it’s all right if Lana and I stay here, at least for a little while?”

She tuned back into the conversation to find Grammy nodding. “Of course you’re both welcome to stay here. Do you have any idea why Cole is so eager to hurt you and Lana?”

Christopher frowned and rubbed at his forehead. “I have no idea. There’s some bad blood between us, but nothing that would warrant attacking Lana.” He cleared his throat.

“Last I heard he was happily ensconced in Pittsburgh along with his family.”

Lana watched Chris gulp, his face turning pale. He discreetly pushed his plate away.

“I need to do a little research, find out exactly what he thinks I’ve done this time.”

“This time?” Lana watched Chris take a sip of soda, wincing before he put it back down. Something wasn’t right. He was flushed, then pale, and he was beginning to shake.

Every instinct she had sat up and began screeching. She pressed her hand against his forehead. “Chris, you’re burning up.”

“Too soon to get sick from the rain.” He coughed into his napkin, his body wracked with shudders.

“Looks like you’re wrong about that.” She stood and pulled him from the bench. She staggered, his full weight hitting her, nearly dropping them both to the ground. “Whoa!

Steady, Chris.”

“Not wrong. We don’t get sick like this.” He coughed again, his voice hoarse. She winced in sympathy at the wet sound.

“Grammy? Blue room?” At Annabelle’s nod, she steered Chris through the kitchen towards the stairs at the front of the house. “Most people would catch cold after being out naked in the rain.”

She took hold of the banister, pausing when he grabbed hold of her wrist. “Not like this.”

She bit her lip, narrowing her eyes at him. “You think this is magical?”

“Yes.”

She pulled him up the stairs, one dragging step at a time. She agreed with him, and that scared him. It had come on so fast. “You think I did it?”

He looked horrified. “No! Cole.”

“Damn. We really need to figure out what you did to piss him off.” She pushed open the door at the end of the hall, pulling him into the blue bedroom. A twin bed was covered in a deep blue comforter, the walls done a paler blue. It was a quiet, soothing room, perfect for a sick man.

He tried to smile, but she could tell it was too much effort. “Tell me about it.”

She reached down and pulled the comforter and sheet down before settling him down on the bed. “Get some rest.”

She jumped when he grabbed her hand again, his worried, fevered gaze holding her own. “Are you sick?”

“I’m fine, Chris. Whatever this is hasn’t affected me.” The relief that filled his face melted a little bit more of her resistance to him. How could she stay mad over the “mate”

spell when he obviously cared so much already? She couldn’t resist brushing his hair off his forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” She watched him slip into unconsciousness, more frightened than she could ever remember being.

Lana double-checked the chicken soup she’d made, making sure the magic rose from it properly. If Chris was right, and this Cole person was responsible for his illness, than the soup was only step two.

Step one was already in Chris’s room, hopefully absorbing some of the sickness that seemed to plague him. She checked the ginger and anise seed tea on the counter and decided it had steeped long enough.

Grammy broke a cinnamon stick in half and added it to the mixture, nodding slightly. “That should do it.” She put the tea on the tray, smiling at Lana.

Lana added the heavily herbed chicken soup and picked up the tray. “I’m going to go ahead and take this up.”

Grammy ladled out a bowl of the soup. “Go on, sweetie. I know you’re worried about him.” She held up her bowl. “I’m just going to have some preventative medicine just in case.”

Lana toed open the door to the bedroom, not sure if she’d find him conscious or not.

“Hey.”

She smiled when she saw Chris’s wan smile. Good, maybe the first part of the spell is working. He’d scared her, the way he’d just passed out earlier. “Hey yourself.”

She carried the tray over to the bed, waiting until he’d managed to partially prop himself up. “Here you go.”

“What’s this?”

“Lunch.”

He picked up the tea and sniffed. “What’s in this?”

“Cinnamon, anise seed and ginger.”

He eyed the cup warily. “Really?”

“Drink it.”

He eyed her just as warily. “I pissed you off that badly?”

“Chris.” Her hands hit her hips, and she stared him down, waiting for him to give in.

He made a face and took a sip. “Mmm. That’s actually not too bad.”

“Good, then you’ll finish it.”

“And chicken soup? You spoil me, darling.” He took a bite. “It’s … um, spicy.”

“And spelled, so finish it.”

He choked.

“Don’t be a wuss. Go ahead and finish it.”

He sniffed, sounding stuffed up, but gamely took another bite.

She pulled a chair over to the side of his bed and settled in, curling her legs under her. “Nearest I can figure, if you’re right that Cole is behind this, he must have gotten a hair or something off of you during the fight in the woods last night.”

He grimaced. “Thought of that after I woke up.”

“And if he got your hair, he got the hair of the wolf, right?”

“Yes,” he drawled.

“So switching to wolf won’t cure you like you’ve been thinking.”

He looked shocked. “How did you know that I was thinking of shifting?”

She patted his knee. “Just a wild guess.”

He looked baffled, but it wasn’t something she could explain to him. She just …

knew. “Anyway, I have the feeling if you shifted to wolf, things would actually get worse, not better.”

“Because the spell is tied to the wolf’s hair, not mine.”

She beamed at him. “Exactly.”

“Then shouldn’t we be trying to cure the wolf?”

“Most of the remedies in that soup work on canines and humans, so we should be all right.” She’d made sure to look up ingredients on the internet before beginning the soup, just in case she accidentally did more harm than good.

“Oh.” He took another sip of tea, much to her delight. “So the chicken soup and tea are the remedies?”

“And the plant.”

He eyed the plant on his nightstand. The leaves were beginning to droop. A few had turned brown. “Ah.”

“I’ve taken a clipping. Even if this plant dies it will live on.” She fingered the leaf, offering a silent apology to the little plant. She hadn’t realized how virulent the infection currently being drawn out of Chris was. She’d thought the plant would get a little sick, not start dying a mere four hours after she’d placed it there.

“You could have left.”

She turned back to him, making a face at him. “I wouldn’t leave a do … um, cat as sick as you were, let alone a man.”

He tried to laugh but it turned into a hacking cough.

Good. She handed him a paper towel. Get it all out. She held out a waste paper basket when he was done. She wasn’t that altruistic. “Try and rest. Hopefully you’ll feel better tonight.” And if he didn’t she’d have to find another plant.

He settled back down with a sleepy sigh. “Thank you, Alannah.”

She gave in to the urge to stroke his hair, feeling a stirring around her heart when he smiled sweetly. “You’re welcome, Chris.” She picked up the tray and left him to drift into a healing sleep.

She really hated invading his privacy, but she had to contact his family and let them know what was going on just in case he took a turn for the worst. She took his cell phone from his pants pocket and checked his voicemail. Luckily he had a model she was familiar with, and he hadn’t put in a password.

The first message she heard had her sighing in relief. “Hey, Christopher, it’s Gareth.

Do me a favor and call me back once you get this. Bro, you’re not going to believe what’s been happening around here. Your mate called and told me you were kidnapping her. Wait until Mom hears about this.”

Lana pressed the button that would allow her to dial the number back.

“Hello?”

The deep male voice on the other end of the line matched Gareth’s. “This is Alannah Evans.”

“The woman Christopher kidnapped? How’s that going, by the way?”

“Long story. Look—”

“Have you accepted the mating?”

She growled. “What did Chris do, call you last night?”

“Uh…”

“Because I’m still not convinced of this whole perfect forever mate crap.”

“Um…”

Lana began to pace. “He’s a wizard!”

“Yeah, but—”

“I’m a witch.” She shook her head. “It just can’t work.”

“It’s going to have to.”

She frowned. “What do you mean it’s going to have to?”

“You answered the call, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe. And next time I’m letting my metaphysical answering machine get it.”

He chuckled. “That makes you a member of the Beckett pack, whether you like it or not.”

“That’s just it! I don’t know if I like it or not!”

“Does it bother you that he turns furry?” She made a rude noise, and he laughed.

“Guess not. Have you two, um, ‘done the deed’ yet?”

“Ugh.” She could practically hear the quotation marks.

“Seriously. Did he suck in bed? Is that why you’re thinking of doing a flit?”

“First he drugged me, then he got sick off some spell that he thinks someone named Cole used on him, and now I’m nursing him while he hacks up snot. Not exactly my idea of romance, let me tell you.” There was no way in hell she was bringing up the workroom incident.

“Cole hexed him?”

Uh-oh. The teasing tone was completely gone from the other man’s voice. “Let me guess. You’re his older brother.”

“Damn straight. Tell Christopher I’m on my way.” Gareth hung up, leaving her holding a buzzing headset.

Lana hung up. “Lovely. Now I get to deal with two of them.” At least Gareth had sounded like he knew who Cole was and how to deal with him. She stared at the phone before putting it back in Chris’s pants. “And how does he know where we are, anyway?”

She shook her head and decided to worry about that later. “Grammy!”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I borrow the laptop?”

“Go right ahead. Pasta all right for dinner?”

“Does the Pope love Jesus?”

Grammy laughed and went back into the kitchen, shaking her head.

She headed into Grammy’s bedroom and opened the laptop. Big brother might know who Cole is, but I don’t. And I’m the one he threatened to kill. She booted up the computer, watching Windows come up. The good Lord helps those who help themselves, and the Lady provides the means. She settled down in the chair and began researching Christopher Beckett.

A half an hour later she had a better idea of who Christopher Beckett was, but was no closer to figuring out who Cole was. Chris was a graphic designer for Black Wolf Designs, a well established firm in Pittsburgh. From his correspondence, they were responsible for the websites of some pretty major labels. The fact that his father was head of the firm explained the name of the company. She wondered why Chris had chosen to live so far outside his home city, but nothing in the Google search had answered that question.

Heading to the bookcase, she pulled down The Registry. Inside was listed the name of every wizard, witch and warlock around the world. Each copy was magically tied to a Master Registry and updated when the Master updated.

How the Master updated was debatable. Some said one man was responsible, a scribe, priest or even a librarian who somehow magically knew when someone was born, died, had children and added all of that information to the registry. Others said it was secreted away in some secret monastery staffed by members of all three magical persuasions, all of them responsible for keeping the book updated. Still others believed the book updated when it needed to, with no interference from the mortals who referenced it or the person or people who guarded it.

Lana believed the latter. To her it made perfect sense. Men could be bribed to alter registrations. Nothing could bribe the universe.

She opened the page to the Becketts, first checking out Christopher. She found his family listing easily. It seemed Chris had two brothers. Gareth, the eldest by three years, and Daniel, two years younger than Chris, were both listed along with their prodigious bloodline. Both looked enough like Chris that they were unmistakably related. There was a short, not very informative entry for a Zachary Beckett, and she wondered if he’d been a brother who’d passed away. The Registry could be vague at times.

She sat back to stretch, jumping at the sight of a strange man standing in the doorway of Grammy’s bedroom. He had dark hair and golden eyes much like Chris did, but his features were harsher, less refined, and his hair was closer to dark brown than black. He looked a lot like the portrait of Gareth Beckett in the Registry.

“Lana? Your grandmother told me I could find you up here.”

She grinned in relief at having her suspicions confirmed. “Gareth?”

He nodded and stepped forward to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. Where’s Christopher?”

“Bed, hopefully letting the remedies work.”

His grin faded. “Remedies?”

She glared at him. The moment he started making fun of her “witchy” ways he was in for a world of hurt. “Don’t start.”

His lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”

“We think this Cole person tied the sickness to some wolf hair Christopher somehow left behind last night.”

“Tell me about it.”

The command in his voice got her hackles up, but she could understand how he felt.

It was his little brother in the other room sleeping off the effects of a nasty spell. “My car broke down last night.”

“I got that, and I got that you’re Christopher’s mate. How did Cole get a hold of some hair?”

“Cole was in the woods last night, and Chris tried to protect me.”

“How did he protect you?”

She knew what he was really asking from the cautious way Gareth spoke. “His wolf jumped Cole.”

“Which means the son of a bitch has hold of wolf fur. Fuck. That means Christopher can’t shift or it’ll get worse.”

Lana smiled. “That’s what I thought.” Nice to have it confirmed, too.

“So you concocted something to help?”

“A plant in his room to draw the illness out and ground it into the earth, some ginger, anise and cinnamon tea, and chicken soup.”

He blinked. “Chicken … soup?”

She shrugged. Explaining the instinctive nature of a witch’s magic to a wizard usually ended in frustration for both parties, and frankly she just wasn’t up for explaining right now. “It’s good for colds.”

“Uh-huh.” He shook his head. “I’m just going to go and check on Christopher.” He nodded towards the computer. “Glad to see you’re doing your homework.”

She blushed at his knowing look but decided to brave it out. “Thanks.”

Gareth Beckett strolled out of the room with the same grace his brother usually exhibited. Oddly the sight didn’t move her the way it did when she watched Chris, but she still enjoyed the view. “How many of you are there, anyway?”

He was laughing. “Four.”

“Four of you? Lord help the women of the world.” She frowned, glancing back down at the open registry. Wait. Four?

He ducked his head back in. “Only three of us are available now, babe.”

“Don’t call me babe.” He made his way out of the office again, chuckling. “And who the hell is Cole, anyway?” She shouted after him.

“Ask Chris,” he yelled back.

She rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hand, suddenly weary. “I’m so going to kill Kelly. Stupid boondock bachelorette party. It’s not like there isn’t a male strip club right here in Philly. We could have done pizza and Club Risque, damn it.” She turned back to the computer and shot off a quick email to Kerry, telling her she’d get in touch as soon as she could, deleted the spam about a bigger penis for her pleasure, and shut the computer back down before heading back into the blue bedroom to face the Beckett brothers.

Time to throw myself to the wolves.

“Why are you here, Gareth?”

“Your mate didn’t tell you I was on my way, did she?” Gareth was sprawled in the seat Lana had sat in, poking a curious finger at the mostly dead plant on the nightstand.

Chris was vaguely reassured that there was still some green left on it. With Lana’s help it might even survive.

“No, she didn’t, probably because I was asleep up until ten minutes ago.”

Christopher got out of bed and reached for his shoes. He was feeling remarkably well considering he’d napped most of the day fully dressed. He usually felt rumpled and out of sorts when he did that. Actually, he did still feel rumpled, but the knowledge that his mate had chosen to stay by his side was a joyful hum inside him. He did, however, dislike feeling rumpled, so he decided to change into some fresh clothes.

“Hmm. Too busy on the computer, I guess.”

Christopher stopped on the way to his suitcase. “She was probably just checking her email.”

“And asking about Cole.”

“Shit.” Christopher ran his fingers through his hair. He’d been hoping she’d wait for him to deal with his old nemesis. He should have known better. “What did you tell her?”

Because he already knew that she’d take whatever little bone his brother had thrown her and build an entire skeleton out of it.

His brother shot him an annoyed look. “To ask you.”

Christopher nodded, relieved. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Gareth grinned. “Grats, by the way. Alannah’s a cutie.”

Christopher growled and grabbed his suitcase, heading into the bathroom in the hallway. He flipped open the suitcase and pulled out the nice dark wash jeans. “Thank you. I think.”

“Seriously. If you two weren’t mated, I’d make a play for her. She’s feisty.”

Christopher pulled out the golden yellow microfiber shirt, wondering if Lana would like the soft feel of the fabric. He started to get undressed, tossing his dirty clothes back in the suitcase. “Yes, she is. Almost too feisty.”

“Hey, if she’s too much for you to handle, bro, toss her my way. I could use a little cute and hot.”

Christopher could feel his wolf protesting Gareth’s laughing comment. “Drop it, Gareth.” The rumbling quality of his voice startled him. The wolf was closer to the surface than he’d thought.

The silence on the other side of the door was deafening. Christopher got dressed and stepped back into the bedroom, ready to face his brother.

Instead he saw Lana sitting on the bed, Gareth staring out the window behind her.

“Who’s Cole?”

He finished buttoning his jeans, gratified at the way her gaze drifted to his hands.

“Cole is a member of the Godwin family.”

“The Godwins are rivals of the Becketts. They’ve hated us ever since great great great great granddad ate great great great great grandma.”

Christopher just shook his head at Gareth. “That’s one reason, but not all.”

Lana frowned. “The great grandma who got eaten was a Godwin?”

“Yes, she was, and she was the reason our ancestor jilted the witch.”

“And they still hold a grudge?”

Christopher shrugged. “Wizard memories are long.”

“Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, huh?”

“For you are crunchy and good with ketchup,” Gareth snickered.

Christopher rolled his eyes. “That’s dragons, nitwit.”

Lana was looking at him with wide-eyed innocence. “Dragons are good with ketchup?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. Yes, they are. They are especially good on wheat buns.”

“Sorry.” But she didn’t look all that repentant. He had the strongest urge to reach over and kiss the smile flirting at the edges of her mouth.

“Cole, for some bizarre reason, felt the need to poke at Christopher all through school.” Gareth moved away from the window and sprawled in the chair next to the bed.

Christopher almost growled. Gareth’s knee was touching Lana’s. He reached out and moved her leg. “And I, for one, didn’t really see why I shouldn’t poke back.”

“This great rivalry sprung up between them.”

He sat next to Lana, placing one hand on her knee, knowing how possessive the move looked and not really caring. He was possessive where she was concerned, so everyone would just have to get used to it. “Things got more and more heated.

Competing for the same grades, the same classes—”

“The same girls.” Christopher snarled at Gareth, who just grinned. “Seriously, bro, my favorite was when you marked Cole’s backpack in college.”

“Marked? You mean…?”

Gareth nodded. “Yup. And it was open at the time.”

Christopher flushed. He tried to forget that one, but Gareth still, after all these years, found it hilariously funny.

“Ugh.” Lana shuddered, looking disgusted. He’d have to explain to her later exactly how drunk he’d been when he’d done that. “But why did Cole threaten to kill me? So far it sounds more like jealousy than anything else. What drove it over the edge of pissy testosterone games into death threats?”

“He threatened to kill you? ” Gareth stood, his hair practically standing on end, and glared at Chris. “When were you going to tell me Cole threatened your mate?”

“I would have last night, but you were too busy laughing your ass off over the fact that I’d mated a witch.”

Gareth zipped his lips. “Ixnay on the aughinglay.”

“Oronmay.”

Lana’s comeback startled a laugh out of Gareth. “I like her.”

The hand on Lana’s knee tightened. “Just don’t like her too much.”

Gareth waved his hand. “Maybe I’ll mate a witch. They’re a lot more fun than some of those prissy wizard women.”

“Uh-huh.” Lana stood and brushed by Gareth. “Okay, so Cole wants to get back at Christopher for peeing on his life, right?”

“Something like that.” Christopher found himself not surprised at all when she started pacing. It looked to be a habit of hers when she was thinking or upset.

“More than that, actually.” Christopher glared at Gareth, but Gareth kept going.

“Christopher stole Cole’s fiancée.”

“Oh.” Lana was glaring at him. “How could you steal another man’s fiancée?”

“First, she didn’t tell me she was engaged.”

“People say you could hear the sounds of her having a really good time on the entire dorm floor.” Gareth sighed.

Christopher tried to ignore his brother, focusing instead on Lana. “Second, you can’t steal another human being.”

Gareth grinned wickedly. “I understand she was a screamer.”

Christopher gritted his teeth against the urge to strangle his brother. “Third, when I found out she was engaged to Cole I went to him and apologized.”

“I heard one guy actually came out of his room and started waving a ruler like he was conducting a symphony.” Gareth, glancing sideways at Christopher, waved his hands to an imaginary beat.

Too much more and Gareth would find himself flung out the window head first.

“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 so would not, Scooby.”

“Guys?”

“Oh, I think I would!” He huffed. Scooby? He owed her for that one.

“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.

“Speak.”

“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 mate with him he’ll die?”

Chris winced. “Alannah…”

“It’s literally a life-and-death fuck?”

“Alannah!”

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 me, not my life.”

“What if I had said no?”

“You could still say no.” His finger brushed over her cheek.

He had to be kidding, right? “God, now my head really hurts.” There was no way she could live with herself if Chris died simply because she said no, but she wasn’t ready to say yes yet no matter how much his touch made her cream her panties or how good the sex was. They were living in a bubble, but when the real world inserted itself into their lives he’d see he must have made a mistake. No wizard family would tolerate having a witch in it!

He frowned immediately, getting up from the table to find the Tylenol. “Here, take this. You want something to eat?”

The milk, four glasses and a plate of Oreos floated onto the table. “Dig in.” Grammy grabbed and cookie and twisted it apart, licking the cream inside. “What?”

It was no use berating her grandmother for using her powers the way she had.

Grammy knew the consequences probably better than Lana did. Lana picked up a cookie and bit into it.

Gareth shook his head. “Here, let me.” He poured them each a glass of milk, handing them around. “We have to decide what to do about this before Cole tries again.”

“We’ve neutralized the sickness spell. I doubt he has enough fur to try anything more.” Chris dunked his cookie twice before shoving half of it into his mouth.

“And even if he did, Grammy and I spelled the soup to make sure it wouldn’t take.”

The brothers stared at her. “What, you’ve never heard of preventative medicine?” She swallowed the Tylenol, chasing it with another bite of Oreo. Yum. My kind of medicine.

“I didn’t hear you spellcasting.”

“You wouldn’t have.” Grammy took another Oreo. “I don’t know exactly how a wizard’s magic works, but words aren’t always necessary for a witch to cast a spell. It’s the symbol they represent, the stated intent behind the spell that’s important.

Visualization can work wonders, especially when a sick person is involved.”

Gareth pointed at Lana, a slow grin crossing his face. “That’s why you gave him chicken soup!”

She shrugged and dunked her next cookie. “I told you, it’s good for colds.”