Jo had to admit that Cougarville was a charming little town. It was nestled in a valley between the Blue Ridge Mountains and the fall weather had made the leaves a gorgeous riot of colors. Reese had a little shop right on Main Street—which appeared to be the biggest road in town and was lined with other small businesses as well.

Jo made sure to keep some distance between them as they rode through town in his big truck. It had been difficult enough keeping her hands off him the night before and it wasn’t any easier this morning. They’d had a surprisingly pleasant—though somewhat strained—supper the night before and Jo had turned in early, locking the guest room door as he had suggested, as much to keep herself in as to keep Reese out.

Not that she thought he would try anything. He seemed to have remarkable restraint although Jo did see him looking at her a lot and sometimes he would inhale deeply, as though taking in her scent. She had no idea what that was about—it was probably a Shifter thing, she told herself and tried to put it out of her mind.

After they parked at Fox’s Auto Body Shop and Reese put the SORRY, WE’RE CLOSED sign on the front door, he took her on a short tour—very short, since the town really was tiny.

On one side of the road Jo saw The Easy Peasy Lemon Squeezy Diner, Sweet Stems Florist shop, and The Friendly Bean coffeehouse. On the other was a bar and grill called The Cougar’s Den, right beside a tattoo shop called Bad Decisions. Up the road a little way was a small accounting firm and The Cougarville Chemist, which was where she assumed Reese was taking her.

“Can we stop at the diner or the coffee shop on the way to see your friend?” Jo asked as Reese led her quickly up the street.

“Um . . . better not.” He shook his head quickly.

“But I’m cold,” Jo protested. She was wearing her thin black dress again, which she’d washed and dried the night before. Over it she wore a white cardigan Reese had loaned to her—apparently it belonged to one of his sisters who had left it along with some other clothing there.

“Meggie won’t mind,” Reese had said when he’s offered them, to her. “She’s off in New York trying to break into Broadway—she’s not coming back to the sticks anytime soon.”

Jo had politely declined even though the clothes were her size. Reese had made it clear he expected nothing in return for letting her stay with him but she felt she already owed him for the food and shelter—she didn’t want to add to her debt. But now she was wishing that she had accepted. Many of Meggie’s clothes had looked a lot warmer than what she had on at the moment and the brisk fall wind seemed to slice right through her thin dress and light sweater.

“Look,” she said to Reese. “I have a little money I was saving just in case—enough for a couple cups of coffee or tea. You’ve done so much for me—let me treat you.”

They were passing by the Friendly Bean coffee place as she spoke and Jo saw the neon OPEN sign blinking in the window. Without waiting for Reese to answer, she opened the front door, causing the bell to jingle, and walked into the shop.

Inside it was deliciously warm and the scent of freshly roasted coffee pervaded the air like an enticing perfume. There were faded vintage movie posters on the walls and a shelf of lending books with tattered covers in one corner. In the far rear of the establishment was a battered leather couch. It looked like the perfect place to sit and read or just drink coffee or tea. There were also a few little round tables scattered around with people already at them, sipping from thick china mugs. A woman with short dark hair and a no-nonsense attitude was standing behind the glass counter filled with pastries taking orders and making drinks.

Jo instantly fell in love with the coffee-scented warmth of the place. Even the fact that there was a line of two or three burly workmen types already waiting at the counter couldn’t deter her. She walked up behind them, taking her place in line and fingering the little bit of money she had in her ragged pocket.

It might be reckless to spend her last cash reserves on something as decadent and unnecessary as a cup of hot tea, but she was feeling good this morning after having her first night’s sleep in a real bed in two weeks. Even the fact that the throbbing between her thighs was more intense than ever and her headache had come back couldn’t completely dampen her mood.

Behind her, she heard Reese’s voice raised in protest.

“Jo,” he said. “I really don’t think—”

“Cooper—Reese Cooper, just the man I wanted to see,” a second voice said.

Glancing back, Jo saw that a little old lady who had been sitting at one of the round tables had gotten up and was bearing down on Reese.

“Um, hello Mrs. Landry,” he said. “It’s nice to see you, but if you’ll excuse me—”

“Now Reese,” she said, ignoring his attempt to get away. “My engine is making this funny noise that really has me worried. It sounds like—click - click - whirrrr - click - click - whirrr. Now what in the world could that be? Do you think it’s my alternator?”

“Mmm, I thought I smelled something good besides coffee in here.”

Jo’s head jerked around as she realized the loud masculine voice was talking to her. Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins as she saw the burly man in front of her in line had turned around and was looking her up and down like she was a piece of meat on display at the butcher’s shop.

“I’m sorry?” she said, giving him her frostiest look.

“I said, you smell good, girlie. Didn’t know there were any new Juvies in town.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jo said stiffly, trying not to let her terror overcome her. Hey, sweetheart, voices from the past called in her head. You sure are pretty—where are you going? Stay here and talk to us—we won’t hurt you.

“Oh, I think you do, Juvie.” The man stepped closer to her, invading her personal space. He was big—as big as Reese, she realized—and had a thick, long, Grizzly Adams type beard that hung down almost to his belt buckle. He looked like a lumberjack but the blue work shirt he had on had a little picture of a lightning bolt on the pocket and said, Carl’s Electrical Service.

“Leave me alone,” Jo said tensely. She could feel the old familiar suffocating fear gathering at the back of her throat—the fear of being attacked again. But along with it there was another emotion—rage. A rage as pure and white-hot as iron in a forge.

How dare he—how does he have the nerve to come up and harass me like this? Just because he’s bigger than me he thinks he can take what he wants? Well, he’s wrong—they’re all wrong! growled a voice in her head.

And then something began to happen—something she’d never felt before. There was a tingling in her fingertips, a feeling almost like static electricity waiting to be discharged.

Jo had known she was a witch from the time she was nineteen, when the attack she’d endured had released her latent powers. But doing witchcraft and casting spells required a lot of work, learning, and preparation. It was true that she could affect things magically and that her spells had serious clout, but they also took time and the proper materials to cast. In other words, she didn’t have power literally at her fingertips, ready to come to her beck and call at a moment’s notice.

Or did she?

“Come on now, baby . . .” The burly, bearded guy seemed to have completely forgotten about ordering coffee in favor of harassing Jo. “You wouldn’t be in here smelling like you do if you didn’t want a man. Am I right?”

“Smelling like I do? What are you talking about?” Jo demanded.

She had no idea what he was saying—she’d taken a shower that morning. A long, luxurious hot shower with plenty of soap, which was one reason she’d been feeling so good—until now, that was.

Her headache was suddenly worse, throbbing in her temples like a drum and her fingertips itched and tingled in a strange, disturbing way.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” she demanded, lifting her chin to glare up at the tall, burly bearded man. “You don’t even know me!”

“Yeah, but we can fix that, can’t we girlie?” He leered at her. “You smell like you’re hot for it. Want to get out of here right now? I can make you come so hard they’ll hear you screaming on the other end of town.”

“You . . . you . . .” Jo couldn’t think of anything bad enough to say to him. And his talk about screaming had set off her panic response again. Scream all you want, baby, whispered a voice from her past. There’s nobody out here to hear you.

“I don’t think the lady’s interested, Carl.” Reese’s deep, familiar voice was filled with a possessive growl Jo had never heard before.

“What’s it to you, Coop?” The big man’s face wrinkled into a snarl. “You got a claim on this little Juvie? Cause I don’t smell your scent on her.”

“Doesn’t matter what you smell or don’t smell—she’s not available, and you’re acting like a goddamn asshole hassling her like this,” Reese growled.

“I’ll do whatever the hell I want, Fox.” The man stepped forward, shoving his face pugnaciously into Reese’s. “I smelled the little Juvie first—she’s mine.”

“I don’t think so, Bull.” Reese pushed back, standing toe-to-toe with the big, bearded man. “She’s not yours to claim.”

Suddenly the tingling that had been growing in Jo’s fingertips and the fear and anger inside her seemed to come to a head all at the same time.

“I’m not anybody’s to claim!” she heard herself snap in a low, intense voice. Putting out both hands, she shoved the two men apart.

Of course, the gesture was ridiculous. Both Reese and the other man—who he’d first called Carl and then “Bull” for some reason—were head and shoulders taller than her and each man outweighed her by over a hundred pounds. Moving them should’ve been like shoving two huge boulders aside.

Yet, when her tingling fingertips touched the men, they were thrust backwards with such force that they both went flying in separate directions.

Reese landed on the battered leather couch at the back of the shop—which was thankfully unoccupied. But Carl—or Bull, or whatever the big man’s name was—went flying straight into the front of the shop. His vast bulk smashed through the glass front counter with its delicious assortment of donuts and sticky buns and coffee cake, making the barista with short dark hair shriek and jump back.

“Oh!” Jo put her hands to her cheeks, staring in disbelief at the damage she’d wrought. How in the world did she do this? She was a witch, but her powers needed the proper tools and time and incantations to work correctly. She couldn’t just touch people and blow them halfway across the room! Except . . . that was apparently exactly what she’d just done.

She ran over to Reese, who was struggling to sit up on the leather couch. There was a dazed, surprised look on his face as he stared at her.

“Reese?” she gasped, looking him over for injury. “Reese, are you all right? I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened—nothing like that has ever—”

“It’s all right. I’m fine.” He got to his feet and grabbed her by the arm, being careful not to touch her bare skin. “Look, we need to get out of here. I’ll come back and settle with the Friendly Bean folks later but for now, it’s best we just go.”

Before Jo could protest, he towed her out of the shop, leaving the other patrons staring and the angry bearded man struggling in the glass shards and smashed pastries of the shattered counter.