Chapter 3
“GEE, THAT HAS to be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Nico’s heart collided with his head in a swirl of temptation and trepidation.
A hot, deep, passionate kiss followed by a threat.
Great way to start off a weekend-long date.
“You have to admit, we’re in a weird predicament,” he said.
He twirled a piece of her jet-black hair that had fallen from her funky butterfly adorned clip. The dark tattoo on the side of her neck captured his gaze. It looked more like a tick, tack, tow game with only three x’s dotted along the bottom boxes. Skull earrings dangled from her gently rounded earlobes. Her black, long lashes fluttered over her chocolate eyes that reminded him of being a little pup racing around the yard looking for hidden candy on Easter. She’d painted her lids with dark shadow and black liner. A little overkill, if you asked him. She carried herself like a true rebel.
His only question now was: did this rebel have a cause, and would it ultimately meet with his demise.
“That we are,” she said.
He licked his lips, enjoying the strawberry-flavored lip gloss that shined across her mouth like the stars speckling the night sky.
The moment he spotted her driving down the dirt road, he’d already felt a deep pull, lulling him into submission to his fated mate. A thrilling sensation he wished he could stop dead in its tracks.
Gerri had to have known who Isidore was and what she’d been trained to do: kill fairies and those who protected them.
“But we both showed up obviously knowing what the other was, so that says something.”
Yeah, it said they were either fucking nuts, or, well, nuts.
“I only knew you were a witch.” The lie rolled easily off his tongue, as it always had when working a case, only this time it left a horrible aftertaste. “You, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly who I was.”
“I suspected,” she said, taking his hand, lacing her fingers through his, showing off her black and white nail polish. “But I only knew for sure you were an officer for Twilight Crossing.”
“Dangerous for you to come considering right now your coven has chosen to ignore our warnings and are still making threats and sending people like you to stop what is destined to happen.”
“I have no idea what my coven is doing.” She leaned back on the sofa, closing her eyes, her soft hand still tangled in his.
The words of his brother echoed in his brain. No way could he stop the fated mate process now. Perhaps, if his chosen one had been wolf, together they would have been able to make that choice, but with another species? It had never been done before and when a wolf was rejected by a fated, that wolf would die a painful death.
“I started my warrior training the day after my branding ceremony. It’s a grueling process and lasts three years. I’d just finished two weeks ago.” She tapped her tattoo. “The x’s show I’ve graduated and no witch, not even a high wizard, can strip my powers now.”
“How are those powers different than casting spells, making potions, and all that?” He couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation. Never in a million years did he believe he’d ever even want to know firsthand what a witch was capable of.
The corners of her mouth tipped upward, and he damn near choked.
Her smile brightened the room with what felt like the fairy rainbows that came from his sister-in-law’s stomach.
“It’s added strength and agility. Things like the ability to jump higher, flip faster, hit harder. I can disarm someone with a gun at twenty paces before they even know I’ve moved.”
He arched a brow, not liking the sound of that, and at the same time, he’d really enjoy watching her do it. He’d read where there were some witches who even had the ability to be invisible for up to three minutes at a time. Growing up he thought that to be folklore.
Then again, the Legend of the Princess and the Wolf had been exactly that, and now it had come to fruition.
“Many covens restrict their warrior training,” he said, knowing that wasn’t entirely true, but he wanted to hear her answer.
She shook her head, sitting up straighter and tucking her feet under her butt, crisscrossing her long, lean legs. Everything about this woman enticed him, but he’d have to learn to find a way to balance what was going to happen regardless of what he did and protecting his family. Mate or no mate, those babies were his priority.
“Others don’t use them as actual warriors. They are more of a self-police force inside the coven family. And of course, for ceremonies, rituals, and that kind of stuff.”
“But not yours,” he said with a matter-of-fact tone. The one thing he didn’t want to do was put her on the defensive. He wanted to learn as much as he could, even though he had every reason not to believe a single word that tumbled out of her mouth. He tried to keep his mind in control, using logic and his natural instincts, instead of the burning ache to touch, feel, and have the woman he understood he could love forever. That had been the entire reason he’d gone to Gerri in the first place.
He matched her sitting position, hands resting on her knees, eyes locked in a game of cat and mouse.
One he reveled in a little too much.
“As a little girl, it was all fun and games. Warriors would put on shows for us at school, and they made the ceremonies come to life. Sure, there was talk of the Spring Fling and the birth of the twins, but no one was actively out on search missions. That I know of.”
“And as you got older?”
“Once I hit training, I didn’t pay much attention to anything else. I’d get home, and I’d even be too tired to watch my favorite show much less take note what was happening in the world.”
“Your coven didn’t require you to keep up on current events or fill you in on their plans?” No one lived that far under a rock.
No one.
Especially a warrior witch.
“I’ve honestly tried to block it all out,” she said with a trace of fear lingering on the words. “We’re still a pretty sexest coven, so I figured men would be sent out on these missions, and I’d be used for ceremonial stuff, but in order to keep my powers at full strength, I had to complete the training. Otherwise, they would have been stripped. I need them to protect myself when I disavow the Unseen Moon altogether.”
He watched her pupils for signs of constriction, indicating a lie, or an omission of the truth. Her eyes stayed even. He studied her facial expressions, noting her left cheek twitched when she mentioned the name of her group. That could mean she was telling him the truth, or it could be her tell. He’d have to watch and ask probing questions over the course of the next few days to figure that out.
And figure it out he would.
In the last month, Nico had learned more about witches and their past than he ever cared to know. The majority were honestly harmless. They practiced their craft more like how humans went to church on Sunday. They used their magic to help heal the wounded. Feed the starving. Shelter the homeless.
But the Coven of the Unseen Moon didn’t follow any of their own laws, and never had.
“What will happen if you don’t take your potion that blocks your coven from finding you and they learn you’re here, with me?”
“I’d be dead like that.” She snapped her fingers.
“But you’re a warrior who can’t have her powers stripped.”
“That’s true.” She blinked a few times, clearing her throat. “But any ranking officer in my coven can and will cast a spell against a traitor, killing me instantly. They could be two thousand miles away, and still reach out and snap my neck.”
Instinctively, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Then how do you leave a coven if they can kill you anyway?”
“I can leave as long as I do it between missions. Once an order is handed down, I must complete it, or they reserve the right to end my life.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was falling for her and her potential lies like rushing water cascading over a cliff, only he doubted he’d survive plummeting to the body of water below.
“That’s barbaric,” he muttered.
“That’s why I want to leave,” she said, her palms pressing against the back side of his hands as he massaged her knees.
“Why didn’t you leave right after your training concluded?” If she’d finished two weeks ago, that was fourteen days she chose to stay.
Why?
Logically, he had to concur she was lying through her pretty little mouth, but his heart told him there was more to this story.
“I have a younger sister, and my father will hurt her. She’s not of age, so leaving wouldn’t end in the same result.”
“Jesus Christ,” he said, bolting from the sofa. “Fucking witches.”
“If I wasn’t one, I’d probably readily agree,” she said with sarcasm flying from every syllable.
“Coming of age for witches is eighteen, but what about her training?” he asked, standing at the edge of the sofa, staring down at Isidore, balling his hands into tight fists, though his anger was not directed at Isidore.
“She’s a seer, so no training. She just needs to get through her branding ceremony.”
“When will that be?” He couldn’t believe he was even contemplating taking on a side mission while his sole job was to protect the Wolfairies, but if he believed she was his true mate, he was duty-bound to help her.
And her family.
Fuck.
“Nine days,” she says.
“When are you to return from your fact-finding mission?”
“Seven days.”
He cupped her chin, letting out a long breath. “I’ll get you and your sister out safely, I promise.”
“You can’t guarantee nothing bad will happen to us.”
“I can promise I will die trying,” he said, brushing his mouth softly across her cheek, amused by her wide eyes and parted lips. “You did bring a couple of dresses, right?”
She tilted her head. “What? This isn’t appropriate for a pre-wedding party?”
This witch could very well be the death of him. “Let me get my leather jacket, and we can be on our way.”
She laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”
He stood, glancing down at his T-shirt and jeans. “Nope. I would have only put on a dress shirt, but the buttons are a pain in the ass, and I’ve never been known for my taste in clothing.” He held his hand out. “Let’s go cause some trouble.”