Chapter Two
Braden stared at Maeve. She seemed different or maybe his vision had changed. She was seated on the side of his bed.
Though he still felt death clinging to his heels, the grip had lessened. His self-healing had finally kicked in.
Maeve had never looked more beautiful. Her red hair was pulled back on the sides and not as unruly as usual. She had what was called an oval face. His wife, Laura, had explained it to him once. It meant Maeve could wear her hair any way she wanted and she’d always be pretty.
Stupid the things he could remember about his wife. He huffed a sigh.
Maeve had extraordinary light blue eyes. Unforgettable.
She was tall, too. Probably six-foot.
He’d gotten to know her over the past several months. She was a grounded female with a straight-speaking style that appealed to his wolf. In fact, she was as level-headed as any of his wolves.
His wolves. Right. He was due to head back to Savage soon to support his alpha-bond. Jeremy was doing a great job as his lead beta. He was also growing in power and strength. He’d be an alpha soon which would mean a dominance fight, something all wolves loved.
Why was he thinking about Jeremy?
His brain still sloshed. Sometimes he thought he heard Laura’s voice. He glanced around the room. Was she here now? Was she with him? Wait, had she come to him recently as a ghost? He couldn’t quite remember.
Maeve looked around as well. “We’re alone.”
A thought struck and he glanced at the pillow next to him. Why was it indented and the covers pushed back as though someone had gotten out of bed? His nostrils flared and elongated slightly. He could smell Maeve had been in the same bed. But why? He knew her. He’d even had a few solid fantasies about her, or maybe a few dozen. But he’d never once tried to initiate sex.
He slid his head to the right so he could look at her again. He was weaker than hell. “Have we been sleeping together?”
A smile touched her lips. “Not exactly, but we’ve shared my bed.” She rushed on. “It was the only way, Braden. I’m sorry. I know it’s not what you would have wanted.”
“Why the hell was it ‘the only way’?” She sounded way to dramatic for his warrior head.
“You weren’t in a simple coma. You were delirious, shouting at all hours, ripping your IV out. Your stitches.”
He put a hand on his chest. “I know there were wounds here, but stitches? Why on earth would I ever need stitches?”
“You had major surgery. Your ribs had collapsed your lungs and one of them had pierced your heart. Alfonso took care of all of it.”
“Right. He was here. Alfonso. A few minutes ago.” He’d removed his catheter, but he didn’t say that to Maeve.
“You were transfused as well.”
“With your blood?” The thought he might have witches blood running through his veins, troubled him. He was a wolf.
“Mine and a couple of shifters.”
She looked pale. Another thought hit him. “How many times did you donate?”
“Twice.”
“Wait. How long have I been here?”
“Four days.”
He shifted his gaze away from her and could feel his brow tighten. He could remember lying face down in the rocky dirt of the Graveyard, blood flowing over his face from a head injury. “I should have died out there.”
“You would have. And yes, you should have. We don’t know why you survived.”
He remembered. “It was my wife. She came to me. She said I was supposed to live another two hundred years. How could she come to me?”
“Ghosts visit dead-talker territory all the time. It’s not that unusual.”
“Right. I should be used to it by now.”
“Yes, you should. You’ve lived here ten years.”
“I have.” Maybe it was losing so much blood or having other alter blood in his body, but he couldn’t bring his thoughts together. His mind kept jumping around.
He turned to look at her again. Because she sat so close, just on the edge of the bed, he could see her clearly. Her light blue eyes always got to him. They carried an internal light that made him trust her when he knew he shouldn’t.
She was so beautiful. Her lips were full. Kissable. He recalled some of his more inventive fantasies about her and his body warmed to the thought. Over the past couple of weeks, he’d toyed with the idea of asking her on a date.
As he looked at her, a sudden lightning-like sensation began in his head and traveled the length of his body. Without warning, everything he was as an alpha male wolf came alive. He could feel a light layer of fur rise on the backs of his hands and the back of his neck and on his cheeks. Desire for her sharpened.
Something had changed with her and his alpha wolf loved it.
Much to his shock, realization struck: Maeve had alpha-female capacity. If he’d needed confirmation, her next move confirmed the truth. She parted her lips, lifted her chin and when she flared her nostrils, he knew she was scenting him, though not like a witch at all. In this moment, she looked wolf.
She seemed startled. “What am I smelling, Braden? What is that? It has a sharp edge, but it’s like a kind of vanilla I use called Madagascar. Why are you releasing a vanilla scent?”
The fogginess in his head dissipated completely. “You’re smelling my wolf, Maeve.” When had this happened? How had he not seen it, sensed it, or smelled her potential before now?
She looked as though she would say something then stopped. She glanced at the ceramic pot she’d brought into the room. It had a small, flat candle beneath to heat up the contents and gave off a floral scent.
Finally, she reverted her gaze to his. “Why am I scenting your wolf now? I don’t understand.”
It was exactly the right question, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to answer it. “I’m not sure I understand the timing either.”
“I’ve always been attracted to you, Braden. But this feels like something more, much more. Are you doing this to me? Is it a wolf thing?” Again, she glanced at the black pot.
He turned to look at it as well. In fact, he was feeling much better. “Wait a minute. What is it you’ve set up over there? Is this a witch thing?”
“Yes. It’s a healing infusion. You’re feeling better, aren’t you?”
“I am. But what’s in that?”
“Flowers mostly. There’s also a touch of emerald flame. Two drops to be exact of a very purified product.”
“You’ve used a flame drug to heal me?” He lifted his hand and waved it in the direction of the pot.
She lowered her shoulders and set her chin. Again, she looked more wolf than witch. “I did. I’ve found a small portion of emerald flame increases the potency of whatever I’m working on.”
He shook his head slowly. “This isn’t right, Maeve. No drugs of any kind. That’s my rule.”
She shrugged. “I used to think that way as well. But I’ve found the drug to be a powerful delivery system for my spells. I’m also extremely careful with it. You’d been in a coma so long, I finally decided to create an infusion with the drug. And I know it’s helping, even now.”
He almost told her to take it away. But his wolf stopped him. He breathed in the aromatic substance and could feel the level of healing that came from the infuser. He’d be a fool not to make use of it. He was an alpha-wolf, a Border Patrol officer, and he was on a mission to find his wife’s killers. He needed to get back to his usual strength as soon as possible.
“I have to get out of here.”
“Sure. You’re free to go anytime.” Maeve rose from the bed and waited.
He glanced at her. He’d caught an odd intonation in her voice. “What?”
“Go ahead. You can go. No one’s stopping you.”
He moved as if to sit up, but all he could do was lean forward about five inches. Then nothing. He flopped back against the pillows.
He tried again.
Same result.
Dammit, he was so weak, he couldn’t even lift himself to a sitting position.
She chuckled softly. “You’ll need at least a few more hours to get back to full steam. The good news is, you woke up. Beyond that, are you hungry?”
The thought of food put his stomach into overdrive. He placed a hand on his abdomen. “I could go for a big steak. Ribeye, bone in. Rare. Really rare.”
“I’ll be back in a few.”
He watched her leave the room. She wore snug blue jeans which meant he had nice view of her ass. His body warmed up again, only this time he felt a growl form in his throat. He decided what-the-hell and let loose. The rumbling sound drove through the bedroom and straight for her.
The witch stopped in her tracks.
He smiled.
~ ~ ~
As she put her feet back in motion, Maeve trembled. She felt as though Braden’s growl had unhinged every joint in her body. She couldn’t even fathom why she was still standing upright.
She supposed it was a wolf thing designed to put a female on her knees. She’d heard stories about shifter males, how they liked to take their mates from behind and bite the back of their necks. A shiver tracked straight down her spine.
She’d always been drawn to Braden, even from the first time he’d come into her candle shop and grilled her about her witchiness. He was a six-five pile of muscle and bone with shoulders so broad she’d recently tried to compute the size of them. That had been two weeks ago. He’d caught her looking and had asked if he had something on his shirt. He’d made a big pretense of wiping non-existent things off his sleeves.
He was being absurd. “Don’t pretend women aren’t checking you out all the time. Why would I be any different?”
His smile had remained but something grew more serious than she’d expected in the gorgeous green shards of his eyes. “I don’t care about other women, Maeve. But I confess I like that you’re looking.”
Something about the way he was with her, direct and no-nonsense, had always appealed to her. She had a strong sense he respected her even if he disliked witches generally.
She felt lightheaded as she formed the thought, I want him.
She passed through her living room and crossed the stone floor to the spiral staircase leading to ground level. She had a kitchen in her apartment, but she rarely cooked. She preferred to take her meals with the Landing residents in the communal dining room.
She ascended the stone staircase to the right of her living space and took deep breaths the entire way.
Once on the ground floor, she headed down the long central corridor that led away from the emergency center and toward the hub of the facility. She could hear the chatter of those she’d rescued over the past few months. They were in the large central living space that was forty feet deep and almost as wide. From outside, she could hear the hum and buzz of construction equipment. She was building a large complex that would contain a hundred apartments, plus a gym, a pool, and a café.
One of her rescues was an architect who’d drawn up the plans. Another, a general contractor. A third had experience managing large apartment buildings. Most of the money for the project had been donated by several of her rescues, men and women of means who’d gone through their alter process but who didn’t have the natural physical force to battle the more powerful of their individual species.
She loved her people and loved even more how those who stayed at the Landing worked hard to be part of the community and to give back however they could.
The biggest problem she faced was helping her rescues re-integrate back into their various home territories. Because of the violent drug culture prominent in Five Bridges, most people who’d been given a second chance wanted to stay at the Landing. They liked what she’d built and they felt safe. She didn’t have the heart to kick anyone out. So, she was adding onto her complex and would have a hundred apartments available in the next few weeks.
She made her way to the kitchens and consulted with the chef. She was a petite Mexican woman who made a knock-out guacamole and anything else she put her hands to.
“Let me guess,” Carmen said, smiling. “You need a twenty-four ounce, bone-in ribeye, rare, or would that be blood rare?”
Maeve shrugged. “He’s a wolf.”
“Blood rare it is.”
“Did Alfonso tell you?”
“That gossipy, freakishly tall man? Of course, he did. The whole facility is buzzing. No one can believe Officer Braden survived.” Her assistant-chef drew a fat steak from the fridge and brought it to her. She’d already heated up the grill so she tossed it on.
Maeve heard the sizzle and her own stomach rumbled.
Carmen turned to her. “You want a steak, too? You should eat. You’re still very pale, even for a witch.”
“Thank you, yes.”
Carmen’s assistant brought back a similar, though smaller steak and laid it on the grill as well. She then spoke a quick string of Spanish words. Maeve knew enough of the language to predict the assistant would grab lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers next, which he did. A salad sounded wonderful, too.
“Ranch, please.”
Carmen nodded. She was a vampire that had been dumped in the Graveyard almost a year ago by her drug-running boss. He’d been high on blood flame and mistook her for someone else. He’d attacked her viciously with a knife. No one had been able to talk him down and he’d cut and beat her to the point of death, not unlike Braden’s condition.
It was heard he’d felt remorse and had hunted for Carmen’s remains. When he couldn’t find them, he’d put out a sizable reward for her. Understandably, Carmen had no desire to return to him. Maeve had agreed to a name change to keep her identity secure and she’d been cooking for the Landing ever since. As far as Maeve was concerned, she could stay with her forever.
“We’re glad Officer Braden survived. He’s a good man. Everyone is talking about him. Do you know he got rid of one of the major drug-dealers in Savage? It was about five years ago after he became alpha of one of the twelve main packs. His efforts brought the crime rate down in that territory, at least for a while. The serum brings out the worst in a lot of people.” She clucked her tongue and shook her head.
Maeve didn’t want to hear more good things about Braden. She was already feeling an increased attraction to the man. She felt downright itchy inside her skin. But how could any kind of involvement with a wolf end well?
She’d spoken with him at least twice a week for the past year. He’d make appointments to meet her at her candle shop ostensibly to make further inquiries into his investigation. After a while, she made sandwiches for him, asked him about his work as a Border Patrol officer, and listened to his stories of Savage during his early days. Neither talked much about life before the alter world.
She’d come to think of him as a friend, and oddly enough, wolf though he was, she trusted him.
When Carmen loaded a large tray with both steaks, some grilled mushrooms and onions and two bowls full of salad, Maeve carried it back to her apartment.
The tray was heavy, but she’d gained some muscle carting all kinds of people out of the Graveyard. She even worked out in the Landing gym every other night.
Before she even reached the bedroom, Braden called out, “Damn, that smells good.” His wolf’s nose again.
She crossed the threshold and saw he was now sitting up. He looked better, too. He had some color in his face. Her infuser, and its scrap of emerald flame, appeared to be working.
She smiled. “I can sense you’d leap into the air just to get to this if you could.”
He dipped his chin in quick jerks. Her witchiness could tell he was almost panicky in his need for a solid chunk of meat.
She made quick work of setting up the hospital swing-arm table then set his food in front of him. “Don’t be polite.”
He grunted as he started to cut up his steak. He seemed impatient so she gave him a nudge. “Pick it up with your hands.”
He stared at her hard for a moment. His human politeness vied with his wolf need.
She lifted both hands. “Hey, don’t hold back on my account I want you well, not polite right now. Got it?” She couldn’t help but smile.
He shrugged. “Aw, to hell with it.” He grabbed the steak-bone at one end and a lot of rare meat at the other.
He kept groaning as he ate and it wasn’t long before his color returned to normal. She’d been around a few shifters, so she wasn’t surprised by the grunts and huffs, as though the wolf in him was trying to create a whole new string of vocalizations through his human voice.
She sat nearby and worked on her own meal, but it was difficult to keep from staring at him. His chest was bare and this new drive she experienced had amplified her attraction to him about ten-fold.
But Maeve had no interest in engaging with any man, gorgeous or not, wolf or not. When her husband had died at Veyda’s orders, she’d felt something deep in her heart break in two. She’d already said good-bye to him and to their old, beautiful, human life together. But his death had made her alter life almost unbearable. Only her nightly jaunts into the Graveyard to help others had kept her sane.
The thought of getting involved with Braden, made her cringe. Her heart was just too vulnerable for the present. She took another bite of her steak and looked at her plate.
Of course, involvement was a completely relative term.
She stole a glance beneath her lashes at his bare chest and broad shoulders. Her gaze lingered on the way his arm flexed and unflexed as he tore bites from the steak. Certain parts of her warmed up.
She’d never been with a man like Braden. He had so much bulked-up muscle, he looked like he could lift a car with one hand. He had no hair on his chest which gave her a clear view of his thick pecs and sculpted abs.
She wondered suddenly what his wolf looked like.
Instinctively, her hand went to the nape of her neck. She drew a deep breath and stroked her skin in the exact spots she suspected his fangs would land to hold her in place.
Her nostrils flared. Well above the aroma of the ribeye, she caught a sudden flow of Madagascar vanilla. It hit her so hard she gasped. She knew she’d been caught staring again.
Her gaze flew to his.
He’d stopped eating and was watching her in a way she could only describe as predatory. His extraordinary green eyes glimmered and showed golden rings. His lips pulled back and he bared his teeth. His cheeks had elongated slightly. She could see the beginnings of dark wolf-fur.
Oh, sweet Mother of God, what she felt in this moment. It was as much a pull on her soul as it was a driving force through her body. She wanted Braden and she wanted to feel his teeth on her neck.
What are you thinking about? His voice, even inside her head, had dropped at least one octave and held a resonance that stroked the insides of her thighs. He settled the remnants of his steak on his plate.
She saw no reason not to tell him. “Your shoulders. Your chest. Wondering what you looked like as a wolf and whether your fangs would hurt if you used them on me.”
He took a few deep breaths but his nostrils worked like bellows. Slowly, his features returned to human-normal. “This wouldn’t be smart, Maeve, not for either of us.”
She agreed. “Not on any level.”
He heaved a sigh. “Thanks for the food.” He hadn’t touched his salad but she wasn’t surprised. He’d eaten what he’d needed most.
He wiped his hands on the napkin. She moved the tray away as he settled back into the pillows.
“Do you want me to go? Would that be easier?”
“No. Please stay. We don’t have to act on any of this and I like your company. I always have.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
“I’m beat, though.”
“Sleep if you can.” She’d seen the recovery process of the near-dead many times. Sleep, food, maybe a shower, more sleep.
His eyes closed shortly afterward.
She picked up her fork and worked on her salad and her steak.
As he started to doze, she shifted her focus away from him and began cataloguing all the projects that needed tending. She never went out into the Graveyard until after midnight and it was only nine in the evening. She needed to meet with the architect and the builder to see how the apartments were progressing, and she had to get busy and create at least two dozen new candles for her shop.
More than anything, she needed to work on a spell that would allow her to take someone with her to the cell side of Veyda’s compound.
As she ate more of her meal, she reviewed all the different combinations of potions and spells she’d put together to improve her ability to disarm Veyda’s security spell. But each time, her internal witchness told her she’d failed to create the right formula.
She didn’t intend to stop trying. That wasn’t in her nature. At all.
If she could break through in a significant way, she’d ask Braden, or if not him then Greg, to lend a hand. Greg was the top wolf among the shifters who lived at the Landing. She had no doubt he and his pack would be game to accompany her, maybe blow up a wall if needed to save an abducted witch.
By the time she’d mulled over her mental to-do list and finished her steak and salad, Braden was snoring.
She chuckled as she pulled back the table and organized their shared tray.
As she was drawing the table back, however, Braden snorted suddenly and woke himself up. By a habit formed over four days, she quickly grabbed his hand in both of hers and held on. His panicky gaze met hers.
“I dreamed of her again.”
“Laura?”
He nodded. His eyes grew pinched. She wished he didn’t smell so good.
“Did she give you any wisdom?”
He chuckled quietly. “Just told me not to be stupid. She said that often when she was alive.”
“I take it you’re a slow-learner.”
His shoulders started to relax. “I like to think I’m tenacious.”
“Oh, stupid and stubborn. That’s a great combination.”
He glanced at her hands covering his. “You did that a lot, didn’t you, while I was unconscious?”
“It helped calm you down.” She’d hugged him a lot as well, especially during the day when she slept beside him. But she didn’t tell him that. “You okay now? You’d drifted off then woke yourself up.”
“I’m okay.”
She released his hand. “Good. I have a few errands I need to run but I will be back. In the meantime, Alfonso will look in on you. You can also just shout. All the shifters at the Landing will be able to hear you.”
“The Landing. Hard Landing. Right. Alfonso shared a few things with me. But Maeve, I had no idea you’d created a full-blown rescue mission.”
She’d never told Braden the extent of her operation. She figured the less anyone knew, including a Border Patrol, the safer her people would be. She said so.
He nodded, a deep frown between his brows. “Okay. I get it. I can understand your reasoning. But I still wish you’d told me. I know how to keep a secret.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t think I appreciated until now how much your friendship has meant to me. I see now I should have told you and I wish I’d invited you in a long time ago to see what we’ve got going on here.”
Braden huffed a sigh. “On the other hand, I understand your need for secrecy, especially in Elegance.”
He was right about that. Their witch and warlock territory was all about secrecy and keeping things hidden.
“So, how many shifters…forget that. How many people do you have living here?”
“Last count, a hundred-and-fifty-three.”
“All from the Graveyard?” His brows rose.
She nodded “It’s what I do.”
“Why do you go out there yourself when it sounds like a few wolves might be a better fit for the job?”
She took it as a challenge and shoved the sleeve of her t-shirt up to her shoulder. She flexed her arm for him. “I like the work.”
His brows rose and his lips curved. “Damn, woman, you’ve got some guns.”
“Well, how the hell do you think I was able to move you? You’re not exactly a tiny thing.”
“No. I’m not.” Braden smiled and her heart quivered. His green eyes about killed her anyway. But combined with his smile? Deadly.
She drew in a deep breath and took a step back. She held up both hands. “You rest. Heal yourself. I’ll be back soon.”
He narrowed his eyes and damn if he didn’t slowly lift his bare arms and lace his hands behind his head. Now, talk about ‘guns’. “You’re not playing fair, Braden.”
“I’m not playing at all. Are you?” But his lips quirked.
“Huh.” She huffed a snort, then turned on her heel.
She felt pretty certain if she didn’t leave, she might just crawl into bed and see what else he could flex.
Before she left, however, Sheba crawled out from under the bed and trailed along beside her.
~ ~ ~
Braden once more had his eyes glued to her ass. A soft welcoming vibration traveled through his veins then landed in his lap. His hand slid beneath the sheets and he gave his arousal one long stroke.
He liked this redhead, maybe more than he was willing to admit. Besides the fact she’d saved his life, she wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. His wolf approved of her straightforward manner and the male part of him thought her body rocked. Her snug t-shirt accentuated her full breasts and her jeans looked painted on. He could easily see her naked in his head.
He made a simple decision. Before he left the Landing, he would bed Maeve. By his best guess, based on the almost tangible drifts of her womanly lemon-lavender scent, she’d welcome his attentions.
In the meantime, he had some strength to renew.
He closed his eyes and before he knew it, he fell asleep.
When he awoke, he felt better than he had in a long time. He sat up, then slid his legs over the side of the bed. He checked his wolf’s time sensor. He’d slept another eight hours. Nothing like a blood-rare steak to restore him to health. In April, in Arizona, it was maybe an hour or two before dawn.
He stood up and stretched. He was fully naked and alone. His shifter nose caught the scent of bath wipes coming off his skin. He didn’t dare lift his arm to check his odor. He knew what he’d find.
Recalling the small table and fresh flowers, he quickly rounded the bed. Nothing sounded better right now than hot water hitting his body hard.
Once inside the bathroom, he saw that one of his long-sleeved t-shirts, boxers and jeans sat folded up on the sink. His boots and a pair of sock were tucked under a vanity area below the counter.
A note offered an explanation. ‘A couple of my shifters knew where you were staying and fetched some things for you. Enjoy your shower. M.’
For a moment, he forgot everything except what he owed this woman. She’d cared for him for four days and even held his hands when he was delirious.
His throat tightened. She’d gone the distance. That’s who this woman was, would always be. He trusted her and he owed her a debt. He’d been married to Laura for years before they’d both come to Five Bridges. He knew what a relationship took and that setting out fresh clothes was no small thing. It told him a lot about Maeve.
He’d find some way to make it up to her.
Already, he could feel his need to get back to his investigation. For whatever reason, he could not rest until he’d brought every last one of his wife’s murderers to justice. His wolf instincts told him the job had greater ramifications than mere revenge.
He turned the water on, stepped in and gave a groan of pleasure. He didn’t hurry, either. He soaped up three times before his sensitive wolf’s nose told him he was clean.
When he was done, he’d planned on getting dressed and exploring Maeve’s apartment. Instead, the bed called to him once more. He needed to heal the rest of the way before he could resume his life.
~ ~ ~
An hour before dawn and with her satchel in hand, Maeve stood near a rundown strip center off what used to be Shea Blvd. The buildings had once been a medium brown but thirty years of decay had left them looking like they’d been fire-bombed.
Kiara wasn’t far.
If she continued up the sidewalk without invoking her own spell she knew what would happen. Veyda’s security spell would hit her, she’d experience profound confusion then end up a mile away without a clue how she’d gotten there. She knew quite well just how close she could get to Veyda’s compound before the spell kicked in.
She held a pouch in her hands that contained what she hoped was a stronger spell reversal powder than the last time. It should help Maeve pierce then travel more easily through Veyda’s spell. At least, she hoped so.
Taking a series of deep breaths, she slowed her heartrate. She needed to be calm for her witch abilities to work at their best. She opened the pouch and took a small pinch of the herbal-based powder then flicked it into the air. As before, a wood gate emerged. She pushed it open and saw the familiar stone path most of which was cloaked in a swirl of purple and black clouds, physical evidence of Veyda’s witchcraft.
She walked carefully along the path, one slow step at a time, until the purple and black clouds began to touch her. Using another pinch of the herbs, she flicked them again into the air again. When the clouds wouldn’t leave her, she forced herself to breathe again and to calm her heart. For whatever reason, a calm spirit made a huge difference.
She shot another pinch into the air and this time, though slowly, the clouds rolled away and more of the path emerged. This new version of her spell powder was working better.
She could see the side of the building now all the way to the end. The row of barred windows was now visible. As before, she heard at least one of the women weeping. It took phenomenal effort to keep her rage from overwhelming her. But she feared if she lost it, she’d end up either doing damage or getting confused and finding herself a mile from the compound once more.
She focused on Kiara instead. When the purple and black swirls encroached yet again, she repeated the herb-flicking process until she reached the last cell.
She spoke softly. “Kiara, are you there?”
A long gasp. “Maeve. I’m so glad you’re back. You’ve given me hope.” She coughed after these softly whispered words.
Maeve didn’t like the sound of it. “What’s wrong? What did she do to you?”
“More of the same, except this time, she burned my neck.”
“Oh, God.” Veyda tortured her captives with an acid-like paste that ate through the flesh and caused unimaginable pain.
“We’ve got to get you out of here, Kiara. But I don’t know what else I can do. I’ve tried conjuring a hundred different potions and powders but nothing impacts this hiding spell of Veyda’s except these ridiculous herbs I flick.”
Kiara coughed again, but said nothing.
“Kiara?”
“What. Oh, sorry. My mind goes in and out. I’m…I’m in a lot of pain.”
“Well, that’s something I can help you with.” She reached into her satchel and withdrew a packet of wafers made from pain-relieving herbs. She handed it through the bars then let it drop. “Did you get it?”
“I’m opening it now.” She heard the faint sounds of paper being folded back then Kiara moaning in relief. “Oh, that’s wonderful and so fast. Thank you, Maeve. You’ve been the best friend.”
“You helped me so much when I first arrived. I thought I’d lose my mind, especially after that horrible introduction to the dark coven.”
“You did the right thing that night. Now that I’ve felt the nature of the acid, I wish I was dead.”
“Don’t say that.”
She chuckled. “Well, I don’t feel that way now, not when I have your amazing tonic inside me.”
Maeve sighed. Kiara was one of those women all women admired. She was a goddess. Besides being beautiful with long dark brown hair and dark eyes, she had more compassion than a thousand good women combined. How she’d fallen into Veyda’s snare was a mystery. But then Veyda had been working her dark arts far longer than either Maeve or Kiara had been in Five Bridges combined.
Her thoughts turned to Braden. “You’ll never guess who I plucked out of the Graveyard four nights ago. In fact, he’s the reason I haven’t come back sooner.”
“Who?” How at ease Kiara sounded now.
Maeve stood up on her tip-toes to look inside the cell. Kiara was stretched out on her small cot with her feet toward the wall and her head in the center of the space. With no pillow, she had her hands clasped behind her head.
Kiara’s smiled was crooked as she lifted a hand and waved. “Those wafers are heaven. I’ve tucked the rest beneath the cot for later.”
Kiara’s dark hair spilled over the mattress. She wore a thin, white sleeveless shift that left her thighs exposed. Maeve could see the red, bloody spots on her neck as well as the older scars on her legs.
“Did you lose your voice?” Kiara smiled again. “Tell me about Braden. You know I love him. I mean not love-love him. But I adore him. He’s got the biggest heart.”
“He does.”
“Yes. He’s really good friends with Alpha Warren.” Her brows rose. “Now there’s a man.”
Maeve knew who Warren was. He bore scars like the ones Kiara now had. The sides of his face and head were deeply pitted and scar-streaked, yet here was Kiara expressing real interest.
She told Kiara about Braden’s brush with death, his surgery and wounds, the transfusions and his nightmares afterward.
“That’s terrible. And you think this was Veyda’s doing?”
“Her henchman, Ely Gammet and some of his wolves, were the ones who attacked him.”
“Then it was Veyda for sure. I wonder why?”
“I have no idea.”
Kiara smiled suddenly. “So, you slept in the same bed.”
“It was the only way to keep him calm.”
“Did you do anything?”
Maeve could only laugh. “He was in a coma or delirious for four days and nights. So, no, we didn’t do anything.”
“You have a thing for him, though, don’t you?”
Maeve didn’t feel like hiding anything right now. “I always liked him. You know I did. But ever since I took him from the Graveyard, it’s as though I’m connected to him now. I mean, I can scent him. How often does that happen?”
“Never. Unless you’re alpha-mate material.”
“What?” Kiara had been in Five Bridges longer and knew a lot more than Maeve did, especially about Savage Territory. “What do you mean, alpha-mate material.”
“I don’t know for a fact, but I’ve heard that one of the signs that a woman can bond with an alpha is that she can smell him. What’s it like, by the way? His scent, I mean.”
“Madagascar vanilla and so erotic, my knees almost gave out.”
“Do you think you could be an alpha’s mate?”
“I have no idea but I’m not exactly thrilled by the idea.”
“But you’re thrilled by Braden.”
She sighed. What was the point of not owning the truth? “I am, more than I realized until I’ve been taking care of him for the past several nights. By the way, is it true shifters like you to be on all fours?”
Kiara laughed quietly. “That’s what I hear, but then I’ve never been with a wolf. I take it the idea appeals.”
“They bite down on the back of your neck. It’s about control.” Her knees suddenly turned to jelly again.
She gave herself a shake. “I have to get back. But as soon as Braden is better, I’m going to ask him to help. I mean, he’s an alpha and stronger than any of the shifters at the Landing. I’ve been working on my spells to see if I can create one powerful enough to bring someone else with me. When I can, I’m sure we can bust down this wall. Something. I swear, Kiara, I’ll do everything I can get you out of here.”
She watched Kiara struggle to sit up.
“Don’t get up.”
“I want to. It’s important.” She finally stood up, wincing despite the pain medication. She pressed her hand to her neck. It was bleeding.
She drew close to the bars and slid her fingers through. Maeve slid hers over them. Kiara leaned her forehead against the iron. Maeve did the same.
Her mind reached Maeve’s. Your friendship has kept me alive. I need you to know that. You’re so strong, Maeve. I wish I had half your strength.
Maeve couldn’t have been more surprised. I feel the same way about you.
At that, Kiara leaned back and smiled. “Maybe that’s why we’re friends.” She jerked her head suddenly behind her and switched back to telepathy. You should leave. One of the guards is coming.
Maeve dropped out of sight then crawled her way back up the path. The cell doors had a sightline through to the individual cell windows and the side garden beyond. With her satchel slung onto her back, she kept her pouch handy since the black and purple swirls returned to harass her. She flicked her herbs at it and kept the path clear until she reached the sidewalk once more.
She spotted a cab and raised her arm. When the cab pulled close, she opened the door and hopped in. She wished like hell she could levitate and fly. It would make her life so much simpler.
Now all she had to do was talk a wolf into helping her to bust Kiara out of the worst witch-prison in all of Elegance Territory.
Unfortunately, the hour was closing in on dawn.
When she got back to the Landing and headed down the spiral stairs to her home, she could hear him snoring. Suddenly, fatigue settled hard on her as well.
Before either of them could do anything, Braden needed to heal a little more and she needed a good day’s sleep.