Aisha herded the horses into the lower pasture as dawn was breaking. She mucked stalls and spread fresh rice hulls before tossing hay and oats in everyone’s buckets. A whistle combined with a shot of magic brought her group of charges cantering back. Every morning was the same, and she never had to convince them to show up for breakfast. A few times, she’d gotten sidetracked, and the horses had returned on their own with head tosses and annoyed whinnies.

They were her first priority, and no one knew it better than them.

They trotted into the barn, heads high, tails swishing. She grabbed a handful of mane before Butch, her favorite, got lost in his food bucket. “Want to go for a ride, bud?”

A quick glance into his mind showed his dilemma. He loved to run with her on his back, but he also loved oats. Before she got any serious pushback, she vaulted onto his back and wheeled him around. Once they left the corral circling the barn, she shut the gate with magic to keep the rest of her babies in one spot.

Not that they ever went far. Magic linked them to this place as surely as it bound her. She urged Butch into an easy canter, enjoying the feel of the horse’s powerful muscles moving between her thighs. She always rode bareback. No saddle. No bridle. Not even a blanket. When the day came she couldn’t control her mounts with magic, she should pack it in.

Big words. Hope I don’t end up choking on them.

She was halfway to town before she realized what she was up to, and it brought her up short. Her spell from the previous night was in ascendance, and she was on her way to town to hunt for Liam.

Not just hunt for him, either. He should be ripe for the plucking about now, and she was more than ready. Maybe she was reacting to the sheer maleness of the horse between her legs or its enticing motion, but desire beat a path through her, heating her blood.

Once unleashed, lust pummeled her until it took all her self-control not to jam a hand between her legs. The state she was in, the lightest touch would topple her over the edge.

Focus! She fairly screamed the word into her mind and set about communicating with her frisky steed.

Butch was having a grand old time, so it took another half mile before her suggestions to stop—followed by threats of what would happen if he kept thumbing his hooves at her—had any effect.

Maybe bridles weren’t such a bad invention after all.

He stamped and pawed, clearly furious with her for spoiling his fun. Born and bred to run free in the desert, he viewed them as a team, which meant he should have an equal say in their activities…

She withdrew from his mind, knowing he’d be further outraged by her snooping through his thoughts. “Time to go home,” she cooed brightly.

Her words were met with a derisive snort. He planted both front feet and laid his ears back. She pushed harder with magic, but it backfired. The stallion reared, hitting the ground hard enough to rattle her bones when he landed.

“Stop that!” she shouted. To hell with magic. She’d revert to good old reminding him who the hell the alpha was in their herd.

He reared again, sashaying his hindquarters around at the same time.

Damn! He was trying to unseat her. That was so not going to happen. She wrapped her arms as far as she could get them around his neck and tightened her legs. The motion accentuated the contact between her girl bits and Butch’s back, but she’d moved from lust to anger. The stallion bucked and reared. He crab-walked, all the while braying a challenge.

Aisha clung to him, while she buried her anger six-feet under. The horse would latch onto it and make this whole mess that much worse. Once she had her fury under control, she fed soothing thoughts into his mind, told him he was the best horse ever, that he didn’t have to do this, that she’d always love him even if he didn’t prove his alpha-readiness.

She was sweating, despite the day not being much over forty-five, and breathing hard by the time Butch got over his snit. This road was never busy but thank the goddess no one had driven by. They’d have stopped, she was sure of it, and laughed their fool heads off.

Then she’d never have regained the upper hand. Horses were proud. Laughing at them was the wrong approach since it pushed them even further into stubborn-land.

“That’s better,” she purred as his jerky rebellion transformed into walking in an easy circle. She pressed her right leg against him, hoping to turn him toward home, but he resisted. Hoping to avoid another half hour of fighting fifteen hundred pounds of determined stallion, she ceded control.

Just this once, she told herself.

Recognizing he’d won, Butch tossed his head and took off toward town. What the hell was it about Stillwater that drew him? Or was he as snared in her love charm as she was. Left to their own devices, horses would fuck merrily for days, as long as the mare remained in heat.

Stallions were dogged—and tireless. Aisha redirected her thoughts. Too bad her sex life couldn’t be as simple and uncomplicated as a horse’s.

She scooted forward, adjusting her position to a slightly more comfortable spot. Maybe she’d pissed away enough time, Liam would be long gone from town by now. He favored The Rise and Grind Café for breakfast, but it must be ten o’clock. She wanted to find him, but not this way.

Not when her spell was driving her, and she didn’t trust herself not to rip off her clothes and spread her legs in the middle of Main Street. A snort rippled past her lips at the visual. The townsfolk liked her now, but she could blow that to kingdom come if she indulged in those kinds of shenanigans.

The word shenanigans held her grandmother’s inflection. Such an old-fashioned word. Aisha blew out a breath. Her breathing was back to normal, the sweat that had coated her face and trunk nearly dry. She probably didn’t smell all that swift, but she couldn’t do much to correct that until she got home and jumped in the shower.

Thinking about Victoria dragged last night’s conversation front and center. What in the name everything unholy did she know about Liam? Her crabby old cow of a grandmother had sounded almost smug, which meant she knew him in an up-close and personal way.

It also meant she knew what kind of magic ran through him. Aisha screwed her face into a thoughtful expression. The cat wanted Victoria to return for unknown feline reasons of its own. Would that be sufficient incentive to lure her for long enough to have a decent conversation? It didn’t take a witch’s intuition to know her grannie held information. Data Aisha needed before proceeding.

What if having sex with Liam would spawn a permanent bond? Something she couldn’t unravel if she tried? Unease poked holes in her lust but didn’t obliterate it.

Not entirely.

She’d reached the sprawling ranches dotting Stillwater’s outskirts. A couple of cars rattled past.

The drivers waved. She waved back.

Still determined to run the show, Butch turned hard right, heading for the feed store. “Oh so that’s it, huh?” she teased him. He tossed his head, making his tawny mane glitter in sunlight filtering through thickening clouds. If the sky was any harbinger, she’d be riding home in a downpour.

Unless she sat it out in town. Rain in the Sierras could be intense, but it rarely lasted long. The horse stopped in front of Stillwater Feed and Vet Supply and craned his head around until he made eye contact.

Aisha tossed a leg over his back and jumped down. Grabbing a handy bridle from the end of the hitching rack, she slid it over Butch’s head in one practiced motion and secured a rope to the clip, tying the other end around a nearby post. A shudder rippled through the stallion as it sank in that playtime was over.

She swatted his withers and strolled into the feed store.

Aaron Middleton looked up from where he sat in front of a screen. Gray hair fell untidily around his seamed face, and his brown eyes were kind as he smiled her way. He wore his usual: jeans, scuffed cowboy boots, and a faded Western shirt. A green bandana looped around his neck. “What’ll it be, Aisha? Gosh, I just dropped off enough feed to hold even your crew for a few more days.”

“Yeah. I know you did, but I gave Butch his head, and this is where he ended up.” She turned her hands palms up.

“He did, eh?” Aaron pushed to his feet and ducked down an aisle, returning with a mash pack. “Mind if I give this to him?” He raised a gray brow. “Gotta reward the little man for helping drive business where it belongs.”

A laugh rippled from her. “Sure. He’s scarcely what I’d call little, but he’ll love the attention. You know how Butch is.”

“Indeed, I do.” Aaron strode out the door with the peculiar gait common to men who spent much of their lives astride a horse.

While he was gone, she grabbed an order sheet and scribbled on it, noting her next order and when she wanted it delivered. Consulting a calendar on the wall, she saw it was November 6^th today. Sheesh, autumn was getting away from her.

Aaron came back through the swinging door, a broad smile illuminating his face. “That’s one fine piece of horseflesh out there. You ever want to sell him, I want first dibs.”

Aisha chuckled. “That’s rich. If you’d asked me an hour ago, I’d have given him to you. He’s got an independent streak, that one.” She handed her next order to him. “So long as I was here, thought it was easier than phoning it in.”

Aaron snatched the paper from her and laid it atop his desk. “Always a pleasure, Aisha. Hell, I still miss your mom and grannie.” He shook his head. “Sorry. That probably wasn’t smart of me. No reason to make you sad.”

She laid a hand over his. “Not sad. They both had amazing lives. See you next time.”

“Next time,” he echoed as she walked out the door. Her mother and grandma had gone to a whole lot of trouble pretending to die. No reason to tell Aaron she wasn’t sad about her female relatives because they were both very much alive and kicking. Just not here.

Butch was still chewing, a blissful expression on his horsey face.

“Good, eh?” She unhooked the lead rope, deciding to borrow the bridle and reins. Aaron wouldn’t mind. She’d return them tomorrow when she drove into town. Her next move was ill-advised, but she trotted the length of Main Street with an eye out for Liam’s trashed pickup. It wasn’t there. Feeling bold, she even checked the alleyways on both sides.

Satisfied she’d escaped a speeding bullet, but sad and empty at the same time, she turned Butch’s head toward home. He didn’t fight her this time. Maybe the mash did the trick. Today had set a very bad precedent, though. It taught the horse he could go where he wanted with her along as a passenger.

As they trotted toward home, she linked to his mind and planted the suggestion that good horses waited for permission before bolting. He snickered and whinnied, assuring her of his intentions to be the best horse ever. She’d see what a model horse he could be.

“Oh, I’ll see, all right,” she told him out loud. “You’ll be the perfect stallion. Until next time.”

He tossed his head, braying equine laughter. He was still chortling, choking on saliva, when they turned onto the long road leading to her ranch. The rain that had threatened was just starting to fall in big, fat drops that landed on her head and ran down her neck and back.

By the time she’d escorted Butch to the locked-in side of the corral and dropped the bridle and reins into the back of her Ford F350 to make sure she wouldn’t forget them tomorrow, she was soaked through. The air had developed a prickly aspect, so lightning and thunder weren’t far behind. As if her thoughts were prophetic, a jagged golden fork split the black clouds overhead, followed by the rolling boom of thunder.

Aisha ran for the house, stopping in the laundry room to shuck her wet clothing. She kept peeling layers off until she was down to her underwear, but they were wet too. Deciding she may as well go for a clean sweep, she unhooked her bra and pushed her sodden panties down her legs.

She stood under the shower for a long time, letting hot water pelt her while her mind jumped from topic to topic. From the unruly horse to Liam to whatever secret her grandmother had decided she didn’t need to know. By the time she was toweling herself dry, she had the bones of a plan in place.

All she needed was the cat.

Luckily, it didn’t prove to be a problem. Once she was dressed in a comfy set of warm, black sweats and her old sheepskin slippers, she walked into the kitchen. Her first bit of bait was the cupboard. She made sure to rattle the latch and slam the can of cat food down on the counter. She tapped the can opener on the can for good measure, and then proceeded to open it.

She considered calling Hector but didn’t want to lay it on too thick. The cat was uncannily smart. Maybe he wasn’t really a magical cat, but some type of sprite or gnome or changeling who’d adopted cat form. The more she thought about it, the more likely it seemed. If Victoria—or her mother before her—wanted a way to keep tabs on things from beyond their fake graves, what better way than via an innocuous, onsite sentinel?

She was bent over Hector’s dish, spooning canned food over his kibbles when the big black cat sashayed through the cat door. She may as well have not been there for all the attention he paid her. Aisha moved aside and tucked the other half of the can into the fridge, dropping the spoon in the sink.

Hector ate hunkered over his dish, growling as if he expected a dozen cats to storm the kitchen and try to steal his food. Aisha resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Respect was key dealing with any animal, even if this particular animal might be something else entirely.

“I had an idea,” she murmured from where she leaned against the kitchen counter. “You wanted Grannie back here, and I’ve thought about how we could make it happen.”

The cat didn’t look up right away; he went right on eating.

Aisha dusted her hands together. “All right. If you’re not interested, I have chores.”

Hector twisted his head and gave her a baleful stare. He ran his tongue over his lips and cast a longing look at the remaining wet food.

“I’m not going to take it away,” she reassured him. “I just want to talk.”

He turned until he faced her, ears pricked forward. She took it as a good sign. “Grandma likes you. Have you called for her lately?”

Hector shook his head. Feline laughter rocketed through her mind, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense.

Aisha squatted so she was close to eye level with him, and she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. Cats loved shit like that. They all saw themselves as miniature covert operatives. “If you want her to come back, tell her you have important news. News that won’t wait. I bet you anything, she’ll come running.”

Yeah, and then we can both talk with her.

Hector’s feline face took on a disgusted look, as if he’d latched onto a mouse too rotten for even his taste. “But that’s lying,” he ground into her mind. “Trickery.”

She forced back a snort. Good to know the cat had principles. Who would have guessed? “Not really,” Aisha countered. “You might tell her you’re worried about the spell I completed last night. The magic felt wrong to you.” She took a measured breath before adding, “You tried to tell her last night, but she was gone too fast.”

Power shimmered around the cat. For the blink of an eye, he took on another form, but it was gone so fast she couldn’t get a bead on it. “What are you?” The words blitzed out before she had a chance to think better of them.

Alarm rolled off Hector before he spun and ran through his cat door.

“Goddammit!” She pounded a fist on the scarred linoleum.

“Something wrong, dear?” Victoria’s honeyed contralto preceded her into the room.

Aisha shot to her feet. “Yeah, Grannie. A whole lot.” Before Victoria could pull the same mind-fuck she’d done the previous night, Aisha draped a magical net around both of them. She had questions, and she’d be damned if her grandmother was leaving without answering at least some of them.