Chapter 18

 

Magnus woke the next morning to the shrill sound of drilling. The piercing shriek of screws being forced against their will into wood. The grating sound pried his eyelids apart and he squinted at the door.

“Knock it the fuck off!”

The sound persisted, the abuser either not hearing him, or choosing to ignore.

“Son of a bitch!”

Flinging back the sheets, he rolled out of bed and stomped to the door. It was ripped open and he stalked in the direction of the sound.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Gideon raised his head. “Morning, sunshine.”

“What are you doing?” He eyed the wooden contraption being bolted into the wall above the stairs. “What is this? Why are you building a fence over the stairs?”

Gideon rose from his crouch, a drill in one hand, a satisfied smirk on his face as he rattled the thigh high fence with the other. “This, my darling brother, is a baby gate.”

Disgruntled at being awakened from the first deep sleep he’d had in months, Magnus glowered. “Your baby’s a tadpole in a jar.”

The grin melted off Gideon. “Not my baby. Riley’s.”

“Jesus, how long was I sleeping for?” Magnus rubbed a hand over his tired face. “When did Riley have a baby?” He paused as those words sank in. “How did Riley have a baby?”

“Alec,” Gideon reminded him. “You should see the kitchen. She’s taking this adoption thing to a whole new level.”

Seeing no point going back, he started to move forward, only to come short at the low wall keeping him out.

“Dude.”

With two flicks of his fingers on a metal tab strategically hidden beneath a plastic fold, and a twist of some dial midway down the gate, followed by a wiggle, and a yank, Gideon collapsed the thing.

“Why are there so many steps?”

Gideon straightened, one hand still holding the gate open. “It’s so he doesn’t fall down the stairs.”

“Why not put him in a bubble? Or a cage?”

Gideon treated his perfectly reasonable suggestions with a slow shake of his head. “Note to self, Uncle Magnus is never allowed to babysit.”

Magnus snorted as he passed his brother down the stairs. “Your kids should be so lucky. I’d teach them all the really cool, bad ass shit.”

Gideon replaced the gate over the stairs and followed Magnus down. They reached the bottom and stopped to stare at the second gate.

“I get the one at the top,” Magnus mused. “What’s this one for?”

“So the baby doesn’t go up.”

Magnus turned to his brother. “How many of these have you put up?”

Gideon hesitated, which told Magnus everything he needed to know.

“This isn’t going to work for me.”

Gideon shrugged. “Take it up with the redhead.”

He fully intended to once he started down the corridor in the direction of the kitchen. He got as far as the storage room before he heard the irate cursing and the slamming of pots and pans. The happiness of seeing Gorje back behind the grill was overshadowed by the butcher knife he was wielding.

The Raver demon rattled on the cupboards, struggling to yank them open with no avail.

“Riley put child locks on them,” Gideon hissed for Magnus’s ears only. “She hasn’t gotten around to telling Gorje yet.”

“Why haven’t you told him?” Magnus wondered out loud.

Gideon blinked. “And miss out on all this fun?” He smirked. “Look at how red he’s getting.”

“Check for tabs, Gorje,” Magnus called as he stalked towards the swinging doors.

“You ass!” Gideon muttered, following. “That was a full day of entertainment.”

“Before or after he goes crazy and kills us all in our sleep?”

Gideon considered that. “Good point.”

Magnus was brought short by the third gate barricading the kitchen from the dining area. Immediately, he knew this was going to be a severe problem.

“This one’s just a hook,” Gideon murmured quietly, reaching around Magnus and motioning at a tiny, metal clasp.

Magnus ignored it and stepped over the wooden wall instead, his patience running thin. He also ignored his brother’s grumble of annoyance. Nevertheless, Gideon followed him over rather than go through the trouble of opening the damn thing.

“I put a lot of hard work into those.”

That also was ignored, mainly because Magnus’s attention had pinpointed the source of the tugging at the pit of his stomach.

The diner was nearly empty of both his family and patrons. The latter wouldn’t be arriving until later in the evening, but Liam was there with Kyaerin at a nearby table. He had his mug of coffee and the morning paper. She was sipping daintily at a cup of tea.

Beyond them, half reclined on her side across the stage in the corner, was Zara. Her hair spilled in a long, white sheet down the steps. The strands gleamed where the ends brushed up against a patch of sunlight, a silky network of silver and gold merging together. It amazed him how long it was, how thick it seemed, and yet, he knew from experience how impossibly light it actually was, how incredibly soft. It compelled his hands to touch, to sink into and twist. It was crazy how white hot the urge was, how potent.

But it was nothing to the heat, the slow, taunting ripple working up through him in an unstable simmer. It crackled and coiled along his nerves, igniting flames in his veins.

He wanted her. His body wanted her. Refusing that fact was such an undeniable sin, even if he was the only one who knew.

She shifted. A subtle movement he never would have noticed if he hadn’t been watching her so intently. Or, maybe, he noticed because it drew apart the slit in her skirt.

The folds and miles of fabric splayed beneath her like wings, but up until that moment, there was only a glimpse of an ankle. It peeked out, a small, helpless appendage exposed to the world. It was the one with the markings, the winding design twisting up the perfect length of leg. The pattern made his fingers itch to follow, to trace upward until he’d reached the V above her hip.

She reminded him of a Playboy centerfold. It did nothing to taper the urge to turn her over right where she sat, push aside the strip of fabric concealing her, part her thighs, and go to town on her clit. It was maddening how badly he wanted the taste of her on his tongue.

“Stop it,” whispered her voice in his head.

Magnus blinked, startled to find himself frozen in place with his attention fixed on Zara with the focus of a wolf. Part of him wondered what he would have done if they’d been alone. Would he have followed his hunger to her? Would he have already had her on her back, knees wide around his shoulders, back arched? He could almost hear her gasping his name.

“Magnus.”

Yes, just like that.

“We are surrounded by your family … and children.”

It took all his strength to lift his gaze to her face, following the rise of her hip, the dip of her waist, the soft side of her plump breast.

“Then come back to my room,” he urged, voice ragged and foreign even in his own head. “Let me finally unwrap you.”

Cheeks dark with desire and embarrassment, Zara raised velveteen eyes to him through heavy lashes. “You’re confused from sleep. That isn’t what you really want.

Her response baffled him; of course it was what he wanted. It was what he’d wanted for days, since the beginning.

“Imagine how much you would hate yourself if you did,” she murmured quietly. “Being with a demon, the very idea nauseates you.”

That wasn’t true, he wanted to tell her. He’d been with demons before Osha.

“But not since,” she reminded him.

She had him there. He’d sworn all women off after that. He’d still sleep with them; he wasn’t a monk, but they’d become faceless things passing the hour. He couldn’t even remember who the last one was or when.

“As I said,” she muttered tightly. “You had better stop.”

He considered arguing with her about thinking she knew what he wanted, but he didn’t. What was the point? He knew giving in was a bad idea. He knew there would be no coming back from it. It just didn’t make the need any less.

“Would you let me?” the question left him without approval.

Her response was to lower her chin to the papers spread out around her, papers and a boy he was only just beginning to notice.

Otis sat with her amongst a mountain of drawings and an upended box of crayons. Zara herself held a blue stick of wax over what resembled a beach scene.

She smudged a corner where the sand met the waves with the pad of one finger, an avoidance tactic.

Otis took that moment to ask her a question and Magnus knew he’d never get his answer.

“You need clothes,” he blurted with a hint more bite than he’d intended.

Zara’s head lifted. The smile on her face dimmed. She set the blue crayon down on the boy’s paper and straightened to a sitting position. But she didn’t cover her leg.

“We were just talking about that,” Kyaerin piped in before Zara could speak. “Not Zara precisely, but Imogen needs a few new things, not to mention the boys. I was thinking maybe we could take a mall trip.”

“Zara might not be able to handle that many people,” he said.

“That’s why I want to go now. It’s still early enough that it’ll just be mall walkers and stroller pushers. Should be exciting.”

Exciting wasn’t the word Magnus would use to describe what was sure to be a disaster, but so long as he wasn’t invited, he didn’t care how it was done.

“I’ll grab my wallet,” he decided. “Mom’ll show you how to use the cards.”

“The cards?” Zara mimicked in his head, bafflement crinkling her brow. “What do they serve?”

“There’s money on them,” he explained. “You use it to buy things.”

“Money,” she repeated. “You expect to … pay for me?”

He would have laughed if she didn’t look about two seconds away from pitching something at his head. “Unless you have a wad of cash hidden somewhere in that dress, which, I highly doubt, you’re going to need—”

“I do not require your money, Caster.”

Back to Caster, he noted with grudging annoyance.

“How do you expect to get anything then?”

She didn’t reply, which he took to mean she hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“Then I simply won’t go,” she decided at last, rising to her feet. “I will not be indebted to you.”

“Why must you be so insufferable?” he exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“It must be the demon in me,” she shot back, folding her arms. “I just can’t control all the evil flowing through me.”

Behind him, Gideon burst out laughing. “She’s got you there.”

“Shut up.” Magnus barely spared his brother a glance. “You’re being unreasonable. You need clothes, and whatever the fuck else women need.”

“Language!” Kyaerin hissed, pointing to where Otis was watching the whole thing unfold with big eyes.

Magnus begged for patience. “You’re going.”

Gideon discreetly cleared his throat and moved in to murmur quietly for Magnus’s ears only, “Evernay elltay away omanway atwhay otay oday.”

Magnus snapped his head towards his brother. “What the fuck?”

Gideon huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s pig Latin for, never tell a woman what to do.”

“Dude, get away from me or I’ll pig Latin you,” Magnus warned.

Hands up, Gideon took a slow step back, just as the kitchen doors swung open and Octavian stalked in, followed by Valkyrie and Riley holding Alec. All three stopped at the baby gates. Octavian stared at the thing the way Magnus felt about it. Riley clicked her tongue and reached for the clasp. The device was slid open seamlessly and everyone passed through. Alec was gently set on the ground before the gate was sealed once more.

“All clean,” Riley announced, which Magnus took she meant Alec. “We used the bathroom and everything.”

Alec hurried off to join his brother on the stage. Otis handed him a crayon and nudged over a piece of paper.

“What did we miss?” Valkyrie asked, eyeing Magnus and Zara.

“Mom wants to take Zara and Imogen shopping,” Gideon supplied.

“I miss shopping,” Riley sighed. “I didn’t do it that often, but I loved window shopping.”

“Why do you shop for windows?” Valkyrie asked.

“Maybe demons broke all of hers,” answered Gideon.

“It’s a figure of speech.” Riley laughed. “You walk through the mall and just look at the display windows at all the things you can’t have.” Even Riley seemed to realize how strange that sounded, because she grimaced and added, “It’s more fun than it sounds.”

“Well, I need to get a dress for my father’s burial ceremony,” Valkyrie stated simply. “I would like to come if you have room.”

Kyaerin smiled. “Of course, sweetie.”

“Are you okay?” Riley asked when Valkyrie nodded. “I know your dad was … difficult, but…”

“Her dad was a poop flinging butt monkey with an anal leakage problem,” Gideon corrected. “His death is a blooming flower of hope.”

“Gideon!”

Kyaerin’s pleading sigh was met with a small giggle from the stage area and the wolf cub watching the exchange with a wide grin on his face.

“What are you smirking at?” Gideon muttered with his own grin.

“Poop flinging butt monkey.” Otis snickered again.

Gideon beamed. “You know where you can find poop flinging butt monkeys?”

“Can we stop saying poop flinging butt monkeys?” Octavian glowered at his brother, who paid him no mind.

“The zoo,” Gideon finished telling Otis. “We need to go. We’ll take your brother and make a day of it.”

“You want to take him to see poop flinging monkeys?” Valkyrie looked at her husband skeptically.

“Why not? Kid needs to learn.”

“What’s a zoo?” Otis was on the edge of his step. If he’d had a tail, Magnus was sure it would have been wagging. “Why do they keep monkeys there? Can we fling poop back at them?”

“No!” several voices shouted at once, except Gideon.

“Yes! I mean, no! Definitely not.” Gideon winked at Otis. “We’ll talk later.”

“Oh, good Lord.” Riley sighed, rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “We’ve had him for barely twenty-four hours and you’re already corrupting him.”

“By teaching him how to throw? I think that’s a very vital skill,” Gideon argued. “You never know when poop throwing comes back in style.”

Magnus reached over and smacked him upside the head before Riley could. She thanked him and pulled out a chair at the table where his parents were sitting.

“When do you plan on heading out, Mom?” Octavian asked once talks of monkeys and feces had subdued.

Kyaerin checked her watch. “An hour or so. Why? Did you need something?”

His older brother’s gaze flicked to the redhead, then back towards his mom. “I was thinking maybe Riley and I could join you.”

For a solid minute, no one said a word. The only sound in the room was the scratching of crayons on paper. Then Kyaerin shifted in her seat and smiled.

“Of course!”

Riley looked nowhere near as excited. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“It’s been almost a year, Green-Eyes,” Octavian pointed out. “You haven’t had a single attack since that first time. I think that’s progress.”

“But a mall?” Riley hissed through her teeth. “That might be testing things.”

“You fed last night,” he reminded her gently. “I think this is the best chance we have. Besides, I’ll be there, and Valkyrie.”

“I’ll tag along,” Gideon volunteered.

Octavian inclined his head in thanks before turning back to his wife. “See? We’ll handle it.”

“I took all four of you down last time,” Riley murmured. “Three Casters isn’t going to be enough.”

All heads simultaneously pivoted in Magnus’s direction.

He stiffened. “What? No.”

“Magnus.”

“No,” he repeated, pointing a warning finger at his mother. “I’m not going into that place.”

“In the span of a week, I’ve gone into hell with you … twice,” Riley piped up, outraged. “And you’re refusing me one trip to the mall?”

She had him.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.”

Gideon smacked him on the arm. “We would never ask for such miracles.”

The decision had been made. The crew gathered up their things, got the kids into the same clothes they’d been in from the auction, and took their respective cars into the city with only Liam and Reggie remaining behind. Zara opted to ride with his mom and Imogen, a decision Magnus fully supported. It gave him the chance to finally ride his bike.

The black and gold GSXR sat forlorn and abandoned beneath the drop cloth at the end of the parking lot. He hadn’t touched its soft, leather handle bars since before the snow began to fall. It was suicide to ride on ice, but he needed it. He needed the freedom and rush. He needed five minutes alone with his own thoughts, or as alone as he could get when his mate was a telepath.

It was only when he was ripping the cloth off the bike that he realized he hadn’t heard a single voice the entire time he’d been in the diner, surrounded by people. In fact, there was no one there, except him. Although, he was fairly certain Zara was lurking somewhere in the shadows. She hadn’t said anything, but he could feel her there. He’d never admit it out loud, but it was a strange sort of comfort.

He straddled his machine and revved it to life. Beneath the tires, snow and gravel sprayed in an arc. He tore after the caravan of cars in the direction of the one place he’d rather have a root canal than visit. But he followed the others over the highway, past an entire district of warehouses and low-income apartments. The wind cut through his leather coat, practically ripping into skin, but he hung on. He maneuvered around Gideon’s Rolls-Royce and Octavian’s Lexus to pull up alongside his mother’s green Bug.

They found four empty blocks at the very end of the underground garage and parked.

One warrior princess in full leather, two grown men in black, one in black leather, a redhead in jeans, an ethereal beauty with impossibly long hair and stunning eyes, two tattered waifs, a blonde teenager, and a classy woman in black trousers walked into the mall. If there was ever a joke to be made, or the authorities to be called, that would have been the time.

Magnus stayed at his mother’s side, daring anyone casting them a second glance that it could be their last.

“We might have to split up,” Kyaerin said eyeing her watch. “I promised your father two hours at most. I’m not entirely confident he won’t come looking for us in full battle gear.”

As if that settled the matter, Gideon and Valkyrie separated from the group without a backwards glance. Riley, Imogen, and Octavian stayed with Kyaerin, and together, they went in search of a kid’s clothing store. That left him and Zara alone in a crowded corridor lined with brightly lit shops and absolutely no idea what to do next.

“You should have gone with Mom,” he told the silent woman standing next to him. “I have no idea what women like.”

“It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing I need.”

Feeling a pang of pain behind his right eye, Magnus faced her. “Don’t start that again. You need clothes.”

“Why?” she challenged with one raised eyebrow. “What purpose will they serve when you send me back?”

It hadn’t dawned on him that she may have overheard him thinking that. It should have, but she’d been sleeping when he’d thought it.

“I thought that was what you wanted,” he retorted instead.

“Then clothing me is useless, isn’t it?” she replied. “I have no use for them in the Isle.”

“But you need things for right now, don’t you? You can’t keep wearing Riley’s things and you sure as hell can’t keep wearing that damn nighty. You need your own.”

“What’s wrong with my dress?”

Magnus raised a cynical brow. “You mean besides the fact that you’re practically naked and I have three brothers?”

She ran small, white hands down the front of the coat Riley had loaned her. Beneath it was a sweater and a pair of jeans, also from Riley. The only article not from the redhead was the boots. Apparently, they didn’t share the same foot size.

“I don’t want anything from you,” she whispered.

If there was one thing Magnus understood, it was pride. He was owner of too much pride, a fact he’d never admit out loud. But he understood her reluctance.

“What if I make you a deal?” he offered. “Let me get you a few things. In return, you can teach me how to block with my mind.”

She considered his request with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. There was a subtle prodding at the back of his mind he knew she was rifling through, possibly to make sure he was telling her the truth. He must have passed, because she nodded slowly.

“All right.”

His earlier suggestion that she tag along with his mother remained. They passed several shops, but nothing seemed to catch Zara’s eye. Everything was too bold and flashy, or floral and frilly. He could feel her growing discontent the closer they drew to the end with zero success. A fine line had appeared between her eyes that seemed to deepen the further they went.

Finally, he stopped. He knew it was only four stores before they hit another dead end and Zara already looked crestfallen enough.

“Why don’t we try downstairs?” he offered, taking her elbow before she could continue.

“I don’t think it will make a difference,” she whispered, gaze lowered. “There is nothing here for me.”

“It’s a mall,” he told her sternly. “They have stuff for everyone. You’re just with the wrong person.”

He’d never felt so useless. The entire matter was too ridiculous to take seriously, and yet, not being able to do something as simple as show her the proper stores struck him as the worst sort of failure. It didn’t help that all the clothes looked the same to him.

Thankfully, Octavian took that moment to find them with Imogen, Kyaerin and Riley in tow pushing a stroller containing one child. The other followed along next to Octavian like it was the most normal thing to do. Both boys had been changed from their filthy garments and fitted into proper jeans and shirts with thick coats pulled on over top. Their bare feet were cased in sneakers.

They could have easily passed for normal children once their eyes were overlooked.

“There you two are,” Kyaerin said. “We’ve been looking all over the place.” She peered down at their empty hands and frowned. “Where are your things?”

“We haven’t gotten anything,” Magnus said. “Where’s Gideon?”

“He and Valkyrie made a run to the cars with our bags. They’ll meet us in a bit.” Kyaerin’s frown deepened. “What do you mean you haven’t gotten anything?”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything here for me,” Zara explained with a dejected little shrug that only served to make Magnus feel worse.

“We just passed the perfect store for you.” Riley said, jerking a thumb back over her shoulder. “The one with that dress,” she added for his mom, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! We both immediately thought of you when we saw it,” Kyaerin agreed.

That seemed to spark some excitement back into Zara. Her big eyes widened as she darted glances between the two women.

“Really?”

Imogen nodded. “You should have come with us.” Realizing how that sounded, the banshee flushed. “No offense,” she mumbled at Magnus.

Agreeing with her, Magnus let it slide.

“Well, we still have some time,” Riley announced. “Can you boys take the little ones?” Riley pushed the stroller over to Magnus, ignoring his look of horror. “They’re probably starving, so just take them to the food court. We’ll meet you there.”

As if that settled everything, the three women grabbed Zara and disappeared with her through the crowd.

Octavian and Magnus exchanged glances, then both peered down at the two faces staring up at them expectantly.

“Any idea what kids eat?” Octavian murmured.

They found a table near the outer edges, partly to be spotted by the women, but mostly because neither wanted to attempt maneuvering the maze of tables and chairs with that monstrous baby contraption.

“Why do babies need so much stuff?” Octavian muttered, fighting with the plastic wheel locks. “And why is everything so big? The kid’s the size of a Chihuahua. I can fit him in my pocket.”

Alec beamed and shot his brother an excited glance.

Otis frowned at the kid’s enthusiasm. “You won’t fit.”

Alec’s shoulder dropped. His smile slipped. Warm, golden eyes darted back to Octavian, half imploring as if willing the man to assure him he would.

Octavian paused in his fidgeting. “Sorry, kid. Even my pockets aren’t that big.”

The brake locks snapped into place, restraining the stroller to the sticky floor. Octavian gave it a jiggle, making the whole thing rattle and Alec squeaked out in a fit of giggles, his disappointment momentarily forgotten.

Satisfied by his progress, Octavian straightened. His hands went to his hips and he peered down at the contraption as if he’d just singlehandedly found the cure for cancer.

“Not so hard,” he muttered. He cleared his throat when Magnus arched an eyebrow. “Shut up. I didn’t see you stepping in to figure it out.”

“Why?” Magnus countered. “Your torment amuses me.”

Octavian started to raise a hand, his intentions unmistakable, but he remembered the watchful eyes following his every movement and quickly dropped it back down to his sides.

Magnus smirked.

Octavian narrowed his eyes once before turning them down to the boys. “What looks good?”

Otis seemed not to have been expecting that. He blinked and shifted his gaze over the dozens of kiosks all offering various platters. Deliberation puckered his bottom lip and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Can I have steak?”

Octavian snorted. “Dude, I wish.” He scanned the stands offering everything from all over the world, except steaks. “Want a hamburger?”

Otis shrugged. “Is it a cow?”

“Sometimes,” Octavian murmured with an indecisive shrug. “But it’s good.”

The boy agreed and both Octavian and Magnus pivoted towards the only hamburger stand.

“I’ll get it,” Magnus offered, already moving away from the table.

Octavian didn’t argue. He pulled the chair nearest him out and dropped into it.

“You want anything?” Magnus called over his shoulder, strides never slowing.

“Yeah, triple burger, fully loaded.”

Magnus was thinking that sounded pretty good when the world distorted around him. When all sights and sounds unexpectedly plunged out of focus as if the film strip had snapped on the projector. Time stilted, becoming jagged barbs twining around his torso, binding him to a numbing terror.

He couldn’t breathe. The sensation was one of accidentally missing a step going down a flight of stairs. It was that momentary surge of panic when all there was ahead was air and pain.

“Zara!”

He spun where he stood, eyes blinking past the white wash of silence to bring back the bustle of the mall.

His eyesight came back first. The rest remained mute, a TV on silent, but his heartbeat made up for it with a vehemence that made his head hurt.

Something was wrong. He felt it beneath his skin, all the way to his bones. It drilled into him with a pitiless glee that churned his stomach.

He never should have let her go without him. He should have stayed close. What the hell had he been thinking letting her go anywhere alone with Riley.

Riley.

Jesus Christ.

Food forgotten, he tore in the direction he’d last seen the women. There was a vague recollection of Octavian bolting to his feet, but Magnus didn’t stop. His boots thundered on the gleaming tiles. His coat flaps billowed wide behind him. Erratic terror pounded between his ears.

Riley had lost control and Zara was in danger. It was all he could think. It was all he could see playing through his head.

No, please, not again. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t be too late. Not again. He’d lose his fucking mind. He knew it.

Bile tasted hot and bitter at the back of his throat. His ears strained past the drumming in search of screaming, because that was what humans did when a rabid, inhuman redhead started eating people. They would scream. There would be panic. Pandemonium. But there wasn’t. Aside from the low hum of useless chatter and mall music, there was silence.

“Zara? Where are you?” he snarled through the link, spinning wildly in search of some sign of her.

Nothing. No answer. Not even a flicker.

No! She wasn’t dead. He’d know. He’d feel it like he was feeling her paralyzing terror.

That was when he saw her, saw the bright glimmer of her hair as the approaching afternoon lanced off the sleek strands. It was impossible to tell if she was all right in the cramped little box slowly descending to the main floor. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see, blood maybe. People throwing themselves against the glass walls of the elevator.

It didn’t matter. He’d found her.

Magnus met the lift just as it jerked to a stop at the bottom. He shoved past the small crowd gathered at the opening just as it dinged and the doors parted.

“Magnus!” His mother’s startled yelp barely registered, nor did the sputtered protests of those attempting to climb in or get out.

He shoved past all of them until he found her.

She was huddled in one corner, knuckles bleached white around the support railing. Even over the commotion, he could hear her panting, could feel her trembling. But she was alive. She wasn’t a shredded mess of meat.

“Zara.”

Enormous, violet eyes sprung open and immediately found him. They blinked once as if to assure her he was really there before her entire body melted in relief.

“Magnus.”

He caught her to him. There was no recollection of ever even reaching out, but he had her, had her crushed against his chest. His fingers where knotted in her hair. The other set was fisted in the fabric of her coat. He was almost certain he was suffocating her, but he couldn’t stop.

She made a weak little sound between a choked whimper and a breathy moan that was muffled against his shoulder. Her small hands bunched into the material of his coat, and his arms tightened around her.

“I’ve got you,” he breathed into the side of her head. “You’re safe.”

“I thought we were about to die,” she croaked. “The doors closed and the box just dropped…” she broke off with a violent shudder.

“It’s an elevator,” he explained quietly. “It takes people to different floors.”

As if to prove his point, the floor beneath their feet gave a jerk and began ascending.

“See?” He relaxed his grip on her just enough to let her lift her head off his shoulder and peer out the window as they left the ground. “It’s going back up.”

White lips parted and a shaky, pink tongue poked out. It traced the bottom fold once before disappearing. She stared at the people and shops disappearing from view with glossy eyes and ashen cheeks.

“I don’t like this … elevator,” she decided simply.

“We’ll take the stairs,” he assured her gently.

Her gaze shifted away from the glass and lifted to his. Magnus was struck by how delicate her features were, how perfectly proportioned everything was. She had the face models all over the world would kill for. Even terrified, it radiated with a glaring beauty that stole his breath.

“You came,” she whispered.

His fingers unraveled from her hair and slipped along the delicate line of her jaw to her chin. They lingered in the dent between her chin and her bottom lip. His tan a harsh contrast to the milky white of her complexion.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

She said nothing, but she sucked in a breath when the metal compartment gave another jerk and came to a stop on the second floor. The doors rumbled open and Magnus quickly led her out, noticing for the first time that they were the only ones inside the metal cubicle.

Safely on solid ground, Zara seemed to relax. She cast the machine a foul glower before following Magnus to the nearest staircase.

Kyaerin, Imogen, and Riley were already waiting for them at the bottom.

“Are you all right?” Kyaerin asked, surveying Zara’s pallor with open concern.

“I’m sorry,” Zara said.

All three women started to shake their heads, but Riley spoke up.

“We probably should have told you what an elevator was.”

Zara pinkened, a soft kiss of scarlet that crept up her slender throat and pooled in her cheeks. Her lashes lowered, concealing her eyes. “I should have known you wouldn’t just step into a metal death trap.”

The others chuckled, their relief a cool blanket draping over the heated situation, but not for Magnus. He could still taste Zara’s fears, the bitter tang of copper at the back of his throat. He could still feel the gallop of her heart in his chest. He didn’t bother to look, but he could feel his hands trembling at his sides, the palms slick with sweat.

“Are you all right?” He couldn’t stop the question, couldn’t stop the unease eating him alive.

Zara lifted her chin in his direction, cheeks still an endearing shade of pink. “I am. I never meant to scare you.”

Magnus straightened, an involuntary knee-jerk reaction he didn’t know he was doing until he was.

“I wasn’t scared,” he lied with enough defense that he was sure no one believed him.

“Regardless, I apologize,” Zara said quietly, cleverly disguising her amusement behind a painfully neutral stare, but there was no missing the glimmer in her eyes.

“I wasn’t,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He yanked one out and waved widely towards Riley. “I thought she ate you.”

“Hey!” the redhead cried, affronted. “Thanks a lot!”

“The important thing is that no one was actually hurt,” Kyaerin interjected smoothly. “We have a couple of stores down here we’d like to see, then we’ll be finished.”

Magnus deliberately avoided Riley’s glower and focused on the smaller woman next to him.

He didn’t want to leave her again. He didn’t trust something not going wrong, something out of his control. He didn’t want to feel the world tilt the way it had and him being utterly powerless. He’d been there once before. He wouldn’t be there again.

“I’m all right,” she assured him. “I’ll be more careful.”

You shouldn’t have to be, he almost told her. It’s my job to protect you.

But the moment he thought it, the realization froze him. The raw, gnawing desperation clawing its way up his chest horrified him. Everything came rushing over him in a hot flood. The lust, the desire, the burning ache to envelope her and keep her safe, but that wasn’t all. Beneath all that, lurking in the dark shadows, his mistrust, anger … hatred remained, a heavy cloud overshadowing him with guilt.

“I’ll see you at the food court,” he told her instead, needing to step away and reorder his thoughts.

She only nodded. The amusement was vacant and replaced by something that he didn’t have the guts to scrutinize.

Magnus left the group. He ignored the sharp, metallic point burrowing deep between his shoulder blades with every step he took away from her. He made his way back to where his brother sat with the boys.

Octavian leaped to his feet the moment Magnus came into view.

“What happened?”

Magnus shook his head. “Nothing. The girls are fine.”

“Riley—?”

“Is fine,” he repeated.

Octavian visibly relaxed. He dropped his gaze to the two at the table with him, then back at Magnus, but he didn’t say anything else.

Magnus left his brother and went to find a spot in line at the burger joint. He needed the time alone to solve the mess he seemed to be sinking into a little deeper with every passing day.

He’d been in love once. He knew the way it felt to be completely enthralled by another person. Osha had been his world, but he didn’t feel that way for Zara. He didn’t love her. He barely liked her, yet that didn’t seem to matter because his heart and body had already come to the same conclusion—they wanted Zara. They had found an odd sort of peace with their situation. They were ready to accept Zara, to welcome her into his life as if it were perfectly natural.

Maybe it was the bond. Maybe it was the prickling little voice at the back of his mind reminding him of the importance of a mate, but he couldn’t shake the nagging; what good was a mate he didn’t want?

But he did want her, he was reminded. The fact may have been unwanted, but it didn’t change the reality of it: he wanted her. He just didn’t know what to do about that.

Not think about it, he thought miserably. She hadn’t said anything, but he knew she was there, lurking in the corners of his mind, listening to everything. He wished he had the energy to be annoyed.

He grabbed two dozen burgers, a packet of fries each and drinks. Most of the burgers were triples. A few were fully loaded. The rest were simply cheese and ketchup. He guessed it would be easier for a five-year-old to eat.

Otis wolfed his four down within minutes. Alec had to have his cut into smaller sizes, which somehow wound up becoming Magnus’s job. They’d gone through half the bag before the women returned, weighed down with enough bags between them to make Magnus wonder if they should have brought Reggie’s truck.

Heads turned, curious eyes followed their path to the table. Magnus noticed only because the three men at the table closet to them actually twisted around in their seats to watch. If the women were aware of their admirers, none of them seemed to give it any attention.

“We had the most amazing time,” Riley exclaimed, coming up behind Octavian’s chair. She bent at the waist and planted a kiss to the back of his head before dropping her bags and skirting around to the vacant chair next to him. “You should see some of the things we got.”

Magnus rose as his mom circled the table to the chair he dragged over for her between him and Otis. She smiled fondly at him before lowering herself down. Her bags were set on the ground next to her feet.

He drew over two more chairs, successfully crowding their table, but still managing to make just enough space for Imogen and Zara.

“They are quite nice,” Zara agreed, grinning as widely as the redhead. She scooped her hair over one shoulder before accepting the seat. The strands pooled like a silver puddle in her lap. “Although I’m not sure where I’ll wear half of them.”

Her bags were set down alongside his mom’s. There weren’t nearly as many as Riley’s or Imogen’s, but they effectively clogged up the remaining strip of space separating them from the table next to them.

“You’ll think of something.” Riley assured her before focusing her attention on Otis and Alec. “How about my boys? Did you have fun while we were gone?”

She leaned across Octavian and wiped a smudge of Ketchup off Otis’s cheek with a napkin. The boy—on his ninth burger—offered her a big smile.

“We’re eating a cow.”

Riley laughed.

“But it’s not a steak,” he went on.

“We’ll get you some.” Kyaerin promised him. She turned her focus on the other two. “Are you hungry, Zara? Imogen?” She reached for her purse.

“I got it, Mom.” Magnus passed over the packet of fries he was holding for Alec to Octavian and rounded the table. “Do you want anything?”

“Nothing greasy,” Kyaerin replied, making a face. “Maybe a salad of some kind.”

“A burger, please,” Imogen said when Magnus’s questioning gaze reached her.

“Zara?”

Zara had been studying the kiosks with a deep furrow of contemplation. Her attention pivoted back to him, apologetic and unsure.

“I don’t know, honestly. How does it work?”

He extended his hand to her and opened and closed his fingers in a come on motion. He waited until her slender digits settled in his palm before drawing her from her seat and tugging her after him to where the row of restaurants began.

They paused at each one and he let her eye the menu and gleaming display cases beneath hot lamps. He answered her questions when she pointed to something and watched her take it in slowly, but with wide-eyed interest.

Her hand remained in his. He wasn’t sure if she just hadn’t thought to pull away or if she found it as comfortable as he did, but he didn’t mention it.

“Your hair is so beautiful!” The high, chirpy voice caught them both by surprise.

They faced the girl standing behind them, blue eyes big against the roundness of her face. She had to have been in her early twenties, small and mousy in a long corduroy skirt the color of tree bark and a beige turtle neck. She reminded Magnus of someone straight out of a sixty’s magazine, right down to her brown bob and enormous, red glasses.

“Sorry.” She smiled sheepishly at them. “I’ve just never seen anyone with so much hair. My cousin got extensions a few years back and it looked nothing like yours.”

“Extensions?” Zara tilted her head towards Magnus.

“They’re not extensions,” he said for her.

“Wig?” the girl guessed.

Magnus shook his head. “It’s hers.”

“No way!” Her eyeballs nearly popped out of their eye sockets. They swung back to Zara with a new sort of fascination. “How long did that take you to grow? That’s crazy. What shampoo do you use? God, I’m babbling. I’m so sorry. It’s just … you look like a human anime!”

“Should I answer her?” Zara asked.

“No,” Magnus thought just for her. “Humans won’t understand a strange voice in their head.” To the girl, he said, “Thank you. Excuse us.”

He took Zara’s elbow before the girl could ask any more questions and led her away from the taco stand.

“You didn’t answer her questions,” Zara chided. “She was genuinely interested.”

Magnus spared a quick glance over his shoulder, not at all surprised to find the girl still staring after them.

“You don’t want to encourage people like that.”

“People like that?”

“Yeah, the crazies.”

Zara pursed her lips. “She was not crazy. I thought she was sweet.”

“Crazy,” he repeated. “No one wears corduroys anymore. Everyone knows the sixties are dead and should stay dead. You start being buddy-buddy with her and you’ll wake up one day tied to a bed with both your knees shattered by a sledgehammer.”

Zara gasped and spun to face him. “Has that really happened?”

Magnus could barely contain his grin. “Only in Misery, as far as I know.”

A line appeared between her eyes. “Misery?”

He maneuvered her onward while he explained the plot to her. He relished in her shifting expressions, everything from amused to outright horrified.

“This … Stephen King, is he a demon?”

Magnus burst out laughing. The sound startled a woman pushing a stroller and she hurried away, no doubt thinking he’d lost his mind laughing at nothing.

“He’s one of my favorite humans,” he told her instead.

Zara continued to look perplexed, but she made no comment.

They grabbed Imogen a burger from one kiosk and Kyaerin a Greek salad from another. Zara ordered the lamb wrap and a basket of fries with tzatziki sauce on the side, and were told there would be a ten minute delay. Magnus moved Zara off to one side to wait.

The early lunch rush had started. People filed away from shops to flood the food court. They stood in lines with their wallets and phones, in pairs or alone. They seemed to be everywhere. Several kept darting glances in Zara’s direction. Most of their expressions held passing interest. Others were snide amusement that quickly vanished when they caught Magnus’s warning glower.

“It’s all right,” Zara murmured without looking away from the menu at the Greek kiosk. “I’m beginning to realize I’m not the … norm, in this world.”

“There is no norm,” he told her shortly. “Believe me, these assholes just need a fist in the mouth.”

Her gaze slipped sideways until she was peering at him from the corner of her eye. “Will you hit everyone who thinks I appear strange?”

Magnus gave it zero thought. “Yes.”

Her smile hit him before her chuckle filled his head. “That’ll be difficult.”

“But doable,” he countered smoothly. “I’m very determined once I set my mind to something.”

She just shook her head and faced forward once more.

“Did you find everything you needed?” Magnus asked while they waited for their food to be prepared.

“I’m not sure, honestly.” She grinned a little. “Women in this world wear things I’ve never heard of in colors and styles that seem so loud and strange. Your mother and Riley were very helpful.”

“But did you like the things you selected?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Oh yes!”

Magnus gave a satisfied nod. “Good. As long as you’re happy with them.”

Her shoulders moved with her exhale. “I had an amazing time. I can see why so many people shop.”

Her eyes shone with the heat of her excitement. They emphasized the pink glowing in her cheeks and the curve in her mouth that threatened to tear her face. He had an inexplicable urge to taste that smile, to taste the happiness that seemed to be radiating off her in tendrils of soft heat. It didn’t help that she was standing mere inches from him, close enough that their clothes tangled together and her chin was tilted up. It was too easy.

“How are you?” He searched her face. “Any headaches?”

“It’s louder now than it had been earlier, but I’ll be okay.”

Magnus glanced out over the sea of faces crowding in, the push of bodies trying to squeeze past. He spotted Gideon and Valkyrie making their way to the table. Gideon held a werewolf stuffy that he presented to Alec with dramatic flourish.

The boy tensed and automatically turned his gaze to his brother. Otis peered from the toy to Gideon with a wary little frown. He asked the blond something that had Gideon’s head bobbing once. Whatever it was, it must have satisfied him, because Otis relented and let his brother press the wolf to his chest.

“He will make a wonderful father one day,” Zara mused, following the line of Magnus’s attention.

“So, Gideon will make it through the war?”

Zara’s grin was rueful. “I haven’t seen that. I only mean how he is with the children, he would make a wonderful father.”

Magnus considered that closely. His gaze drifted back to where his family sat, laughing and passing around the remains of Octavian’s fries.

“What have you seen?”

She started to shake her head. “Knowing the future will not—”

“It will,” he argued. “If I know, I will stop it.”

Zara sighed. “Greater men, more powerful men, have attempted to use my knowledge for selfish gain—”

“Wanting to protect my family isn’t selfish,” Magnus snapped.

“It is if it’s their time.”

There were so many things he could say in return, so many arguments he could make to convince her the importance of keeping his family safe, but he stopped to peer more closely at her face. Some of her earlier glow had faded around the edges and exhaustion lines had appeared around her mouth. Her gaze kept slipping from his as if she were struggling to remain awake.

“It’s been too much,” he said.

She shook head. “No, it’s nothing.

“Maybe, but you’re also blocking me. I haven’t heard anyone all day.”

Her gaze lowered, confirming what he already knew.

“It’s hurting you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact he could feel coming off her. “Stop. I can handle it.”

“You’ll hear your family again,” she warned.

“You shouldn’t be protecting me.”

Her cheeks darkened. “I wasn’t—”

“You are,” he challenged without heat. “I’ll be fine, but you’re not at your full strength. You shouldn’t be making yourself weaker for me.”

“You’re not ready.”

Magnus squared his shoulders. “Then show me.”

Zara hesitated. “You need to think of a door, then put everyone you don’t want to hear on the other side.”

The voices returned. They trickled back into the basin of his mind. They filled all the dark, empty places. Magnus winced at the pressure expanding the walls of his skull. His vision wavered and he clapped a head over his face.

“You’re not thinking of a door,” she scolded him.

Gingerly, she touched the side of his face. Like two magnets, the voices scuttled back. A plain white door appeared in the darkness of his mind. It was closed tight with him on one side and the voices on the other.

“It won’t make you stop hearing them, but it won’t be so loud.”

“Do you have a door?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

He hadn’t been in her thoughts since the desert when the connection had first taken over them. But she let him in with a slow twining of their fingers.

Her mind was a tidy room surrounded by a million shelves filled with books. There were no windows, only a single, brown door. He heard the low hum of whispers on the other side, but it was silent otherwise.

“I let in the ones I want to hear, but keep out the rest,” she explained. “Except you. I’ve tried. You’re always here.”

Magnus opened his eyes and locked gazes with her. “What do my thoughts look like?”

Zara shook her head. “Painful.”

“My thoughts are painful?” He’d meant it as a joke, but her eyes filled and all the humor left him.

“Yes.”

He was given no chance to react when Zara was shoved into him by a group of high school boys out for lunch. He caught her against him, clasping her tight. The boys howled and shoved each other some more.

“Hey!” Magnus’s snarl quieted them just enough to catch their attention. “Apologize.”

The trio exchanged glances.

“Hey man, it was an accident, okay?” the one in the middle said while his two friends chortled behind him.

“Apologize,” he repeated through his teeth.

“Magnus.” Zara set her fingers on his arm. “I’m all right.”

“I’m not,” he said out loud, and earned baffled glances from the punks.

“What did he say?” one asked.

“Dude is crazy!” The one on the right laughed.

Magnus started forward, fully prepared to knock some sense into them. But Zara beat him to it.

Her small hands shot out and clapped to either side of the middle boy’s head. It happened so quickly that no one had any time to react, not even the boy, whose hazel eyes had gone enormous on his face.

She pulled him eye level only to shut her own eyes and take a deep breath.

“Curtis Novak,” she breathed. “What a sad life you will lead if you carry on this way. You will break your mother’s heart, ruin your future, and die too young. You don’t want that, do you, Curtis?”

“I can hear her in my head!” the one on the left croaked, hands clapped over his ears, as if that might save him from the invasion.

“Dude, she knows your name!” cried the one on the right. “How does she know your name?”

“I know many things, William Pike. Like how you watch your sister undress at night.”

“Dude, gross!” said the one on the left.

“I don’t! She’s lying!” But red blotches had appeared on his freckled face, nearly masking his look of utter horror.

“I see no hope for you, William. Your parents may be able to turn a blind eye to the dead animals you bury in the yard and the way you hurt your sister, but you will get yours.”

William stared at his friends as if expecting them to help him, but Curtis was still trapped between Zara’s palms and the other one had gone a shade of white that wasn’t quite natural.

“Jake,” Zara’s tone wasn’t nearly as haunting or menacing when she slipped into the third boy’s mind. “You’re better than this,” she told him quietly. “You do not belong with them. Get away before they take you down with them.”

Jake made a choking sound and nothing else. Magnus suspected he was struggling to remain upright.

“What did she say to you?” William demanded, finding some of his old heat back; Magus realized she hadn’t broadcasted Jake’s future like the others.

She opened her eyes and met Jake’s wide, glossy one’s. Neither said a word, but Jake turned and hurried away without his friends.

“What did you say to him?” William snapped, jerking free of Zara’s touch. He raised a fist as if prepared to strike. “You stupid cunt! I’m not afraid of you.”

Bones cracked upon Magnus’s fist making contact with William’s mouth. Blood splattered in a hot, crimson fountain. The sickening, yet satisfying crunch resonated through the cafeteria, silencing all nearby chatter. It was followed by the crash of the boy’s entire body slamming into a table, upending the chairs and knocking over an abandoned tray of Chinese food. Rice sprayed everywhere and rained down on the struggling figure, clinging to his hair and coat.

Sobbing, William rolled off his back with one hand stuffed up against his broken nose. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood soaking between his fingers.

“You broke my nose!” he wailed, fighting to climb to his feet only to slip on the spilled drink and land hard on his knee. “You broke my fucking nose! I’m going to sue you and your freak of a girlfriend!”

Magnus stalked at him, fully prepared to give the kid a crash course in manners. He closed a fist in the boy’s coat and yanked him up.

“She’s not the one you should be afraid of.”

“I can’t take you anywhere!” Gideon appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Magnus. He was pulled forcibly back. “No more Bruce Lee movies for you.”

Magnus threw off the hold. Gideon stepped in his path when Magnus tried to get around him.

“Hey, chill,” the blond hissed for Magnus’s ears only. “We don’t beat on kids where Mom can see.”

Sure enough, they had captured the attention of everyone within proximity, including their mother’s. The latter was infinitely worse. The look of horror on her face guaranteed her fury once they got home.

But Magnus straightened his shoulders and turned back to where Zara stood, one small hand pressed over her mouth. Her pale eyes shot up to his face when he walked to her, filled with disbelief.

“We’re leaving.”

He grabbed the paper bag containing their food off the counter behind her, took the hand not still at her mouth, and led her back to their table.

“What happened?” Kyaerin cried.

“Kid had a mouth,” was all Magnus was willing to part with. “We need to go before security gets here.”

“Magnus…” Kyaerin sighed miserably. “It was one trip to the mall. Couldn’t you just…” she broke off with a shake of her head.

Nevertheless, they gathered up their items and headed for the parking garage. Most of their bags had to be divided between Octavian’s and Gideon’s cars with the leftovers stuffed into the boot of Kyaerin’s Bug. Magnus waited until everyone was safely tucked into their respective vehicles before pulling on his helmet and following the caravan out.

It was about five minutes out when Kyaerin’s Bug swerved over the yellow divide line in a wild fishtail. It righted almost immediately, but Magnus was already zipping up the shoulder to the passenger’s side door.

Imogen had both hands clapped over her mouth and seemed to be laughing hysterically, but she lifted one to wave at Magnus. He’d already turned his head—as much as he could without crashing—to the figure in the back. Zara met his gaze with a bemused expression.

“What happened?” he demanded through their link.

“I’m not sure. I asked your mom what a stupid cunt was.”

Despite the circumstances, Magnus burst out laughing and nearly wrenched the bike out from under him. He slowed just enough to compose himself before racing to catch up.

“What did she say?”

Zara hesitated a full second before answering, “She nearly ran us off the road.”