“What are we going to do?” I carried mine and Evie’s glasses to the sink behind her.

“Violet is a Seer. She wants to divine you to see if she can find the witch who put this spell on you.”

“So you’re sure this wasn’t some kind of accident? Like residual magic, a spell meant for someone else that bounced off me?”

She faced me at the sink, a somber expression I’m not sure I’d seen before. Except maybe when I told her about my family life.

“No. Since I’ve been spending time with you and what I’ve read, this is a binding spell. Someone meant this for you.”

Hearing confirmation of it shocked me to my bones. Who had it out for me that he’d want to smother my wolf, make me literally lose my mind? Because that’s what was going to happen if this hex wasn’t broken.

“Come on,” she said, taking my hand and leading me back through the living room.

I squeezed her delicate hand gently, her touch grounding me with that sweet, familiar balm I craved every second of every day. She led me down the same hallway she had the first night we met. Right before we approached Jules’s study, she dropped my hand. A sharp pain pricked inside my chest, but I didn’t grab for her again.

“Take a seat here,” said Jules, pointing to a large wingback at the foot of a long mahogany coffee table.

I did. Violet sat on the floor on the opposite side, a polished, wooden bowl filled with water in front of her. Evie picked up a pair of scissors and walked toward me.

What the fuck? Attack!

I clenched every muscle in my body, gripping the armchairs with brutal force. I had to remind myself this was Evie.

“It’s okay,” she said with a smile, raising her other hand to rest on my shoulder as she looked down at me. “I just need a few strands for Violet. I promise not to damage your pretty hair.”

It wasn’t what she said but the gentle thread of her voice and the soothing sweep of her hand on my shoulder up to my hair that eased me.

I held perfectly still as she snipped just a few strands, walked to Violet, and dropped them into the bowl of water. Evie set the scissors on the bookshelf, then returned to my side. She leaned against the side of the chair, her heat wonderfully close, and placed a hand on my opposite shoulder. Someone might even think she was wrapping her arm around me in a kind of embrace, but I knew better. She was grounding me with touch.

“Relax,” she whispered down to me. So I tried.

Clara lit a tall, slender candle and placed it at the center of the table, then sat to Violet’s left. Jules had been busy lighting a stick of incense. She whispered something then walked a full circle around the table, then around me, then behind Violet before stabbing the stick into a small bowl of black sand to the right of the divining bowl. She took a seat across from Clara.

Violet had been seated, cross-legged, with her eyes closed the entire time. Now, she opened them, her sky-blue eyes shining with supernatural light as she stared into the pool. With a swirl of her purple-painted fingertip above the bowl, the water moved in a circle. I could see the few strands of my hair sitting on top, slowly sinking as the little pool rippled around.

The second my hair slipped into the water, a sharp pulse of energy punched the air. It came from Violet. Alpha growled despite Evie’s calming force at my side.

“Shhh,” she whispered. “You’re safe.”

I knew I was safe and these witches were here to help me. Even so, the magic in the room felt like a threat, and I had no idea why.

“Show your master,” Violet whispered to the water.

The water swirled and swirled as she circled her finger in the air above the water’s surface, faster and faster, images seemingly to flit by in the ripples. Violet snapped her fingers. The water froze as if we were watching a television show and someone pressed pause.

Above the still water, a droplet suspended in mid-air. Beneath that on the surface of glassy water was an image of my artwork in the gallery. A bust of Medusa, her hair like living serpents hissing at an enemy.

Violet snapped her fingers, and the water swirled again, so fast that some of it was slipping over the edge.

“Show me your master,” she commanded louder, her voice dipping to an unnatural register as she snapped her fingers again.

The water froze like before, but this time the image was of myself working in my studio shirtless. The focus of the frame was my naked torso, my arms and back muscles flexed as I worked on a sculpt. I often worked shirtless in the summer months when the heat was just too unbearable. Evie’s hand clenched on my shoulder.

What the hell was this? I wasn’t the one who put this spell on myself. Why was it showing images of me and my artwork? It made no sense.

When Violet snapped her fingers again, the water swirled in a frenzy, rippling wildly as if a beast surged beneath the surface. She put her palm in the air facing down toward the bowl.

“Enough,” she whispered with guttural menace. “Show me your fucking master.”

The water swirled and lifted out of the bowl, raising out of its holder, still circling insanely fast. The blur of an image inside the water, a streak of gray and red. My wolf? Blood? What was it?

“Show me!” Violet’s voice vibrated with aggression.

Clara jumped at the force. Evie clenched my shoulder so tight I could feel her nails digging in.

The image bled black, turning the water muddy. With a sudden crackle of magic, the bowl flipped in the air and landed face down with an audible thwack. The black water had snuffed out the candle, and the burning incense hissed when it sizzled out.

Violet panted, scowling down at the mess, her fists balled on the table. Clara reached over quickly with both hands and put them on her sister’s arm, her skin lighting with that golden sheen like the other night when she put that happy spell on me.

Jules turned a scowling gaze on me. “Someone definitely means you harm, Mateo.”

“I have no idea who.”

Violet snapped up into a standing position, brushing Clara off, telling her, “I’m okay.” Then her electric gaze moved to me and Evie. “Whoever it is, she’s a strong bitch.”

“You mean witch,” said Evie, calm as ever.

“No, I mean bitch. She’s not only cast a binding spell on him, she’s bound the fucking spell itself so we can’t see in. She doesn’t want anyone seeing in. If it is a she. Could be a he for all the fuck I know.”

“Violet—” started Clara.

“I’m fine,” she snapped, then more gently to her twin. “Really. Don’t worry about me. You should all be worrying about this werewolf. This is a powerful witch, whoever he or she is. Anyway, I’ve got to go.” She raised her hands and slapped them against her jeans. “This mess.”

“I’ll clean it up,” said Clara. “Go on.”

Violet didn’t wait. She left in a huff. Clara smiled at Jules. “I’ll go get some towels.”

Jules aimed her gray gaze at me. “You don’t know of anyone who would mean you harm?”

Frustration ripped through me. “I told you. I have no enemies.”

“I’m afraid you do,” she snapped back.

Leaning forward with my elbows on my knees, I combed my hands into my hair. “Look. I don’t know of anyone. I’ve told you.”

“What about business rivals?”

“Business rivals? I’m an artist. In a rare market of metalwork. The other artists I know don’t even have the same clientele. Our work is so different.”

“What about an ex-girlfriend?” she asked.

Evie flinched at my side, removing her hand from my back where it had slid when I leaned forward. I wanted to grab her hand and put it back on me, feeling the separation like a bone break.

I thought of Caroline, meek and mild as a lamb who had stuttered out an apologetic plea for us to move in together. I shut her down so fast it made her head spin, then I severed all ties. Last I heard, she’d already started dating some dentist in Metairie, so she obviously wasn’t that broken-hearted.

“No.” I shook my head. “I’ve only dated humans anyway.”

“Humans hire witches to cast spells all the time.”

Growing more frustrated, I rephrased, “I don’t let girlfriends get attached.”

Jules scoffed. “You’re a very attractive guy, Mateo. Handsome with a thriving business. A sensitive artist. Some women would get very attached. Whether you want them to or not.”

When I glanced up from boring a hole into the floor, I caught her looking over my shoulder at Evie, not at me.

“Trust me when I tell you, it’s not an ex-girlfriend. I break it off long before they can get attached. Before they can get their hearts tied into it. I’m a loner, okay. Yes, I fucking love sex, but I prefer it with someone I know, not a random hookup. But I always break it off as soon as the newness has worn off. I can promise you women never stand a chance with me.”

I felt Evie go rigid behind me. I knew I sounded like a cold-hearted bastard, but it was the truth. And I wasn’t going to let her sister think for a second that one of the timid, submissive women I’d dated in the past could be the culprit here. It would just waste time finding the real target.

Jules simmered for a second, apparently thinking over my words. “It would help us if we knew what kind of witch cast this spell. Especially since Evie has never tried to break the hex of a werewolf.”

I glanced back to find Evie leaning against the bookshelf, avoiding my gaze. I wanted to force her to look at me, but Jules kept talking.

“We’ll perform the spell on the night of the full moon next week. I think attempting the hex-breaking spell at the time your wolf will want to come out the most would be best. Especially now that we know we have a powerful witch on the other end of this binding spell.”

I nodded, grinding my jaw shut. Something about this whole experience had my hackles rising. But the only thing that really had me pissed off was the fact that Evie had withdrawn from me, and I didn’t know why. Well, sort of. I’d talked about women like they were disposable, and that made me look like an asshole. But it was the way life had been for me. The way I wanted it. Until now.