Tucking my hands into the back pockets of my jeans, I rocked back on the balls of my feet. “Well, you’re lucky. She was in a good mood tonight.”

He blew out a half-laugh. “That was a good mood?”

“Don’t go insulting my sister,” I teased. “Only I can do that.”

“Does she make all your decisions?”

“Nope. Just the ones that could get me killed if I don’t think it through.” I tilted my head to the right, my ponytail shifting over the front of my shoulder. “It’s not easy, or always safe, being a witch these days. And I tend to—”

I pressed my lips tightly together. For some strange reason, I was pouring out too much information to this man I’d just met.

He leaned closer, his head lowering to capture my gaze. “You tend to what?”

I let out an embarrassed laugh on a shrug. “To trust too easily. To want to help too much sometimes.”

His wide mouth slid into a brilliant smile, forcing me to admire his perfectly straight, white teeth. Strange that a werewolf should have such a beautiful smile. No yellow fangs or remnants of his killings anywhere to be seen. I was beginning to wonder if he really was a werewolf. He wasn’t scary or intimidating at all.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem. To be trustful and kind isn’t a defect, Evie. It’s rather wonderful really.”

Oh, my. His voice dropped deep and gruff and harsh on my name. He’d framed it with an emphasis that rumbled and tumbled down my spine.

I blew out a nervous breath. “Thank you.” Because what else do you say to something like that? I tried not to think about how my tendency to help others had gotten my heart stomped on a time or two. Really just the once, but we won’t think about that right now.

Mateo nodded, taking me in again with a leisurely perusal. “I owe you.”

“Pretty much.”

He chuckled. I wanted to lighten the weighty tension between us. Beyond breaking his hex, this guy needed to laugh. And he needed a friend. I had a feeling he didn’t do much of the first and didn’t have enough of the second.

“Thank you. And goodnight, Evie.”

Again, his voice dipped into that deep, rumbly register on my name, then he shied away like he’d done something wrong. So strange. Were all werewolves a bit odd?

“Night.” With a flick of my hand in goodbye, I headed back up the walk, yet again feeling his heavy stare follow me to the door. When I reached the porch and glanced over my shoulder, he was gone.

I knew I wouldn’t get to bed without an ass-chewing, so I headed into the kitchen where I heard Jules moving around. Sure enough, she was pouring another full glass of merlot.

I took a seat at the island and popped my butt up on the butcher-block top. “Go ahead and get it over with.”

Leaning back against the sink, she said, “You did the right thing.”

Wait, what?

“Come again?”

“If what you say is true, then he’s a threat to society. That means it’s our responsibility to help if we can.”

It was the role of the Savoie sisters to keep the peace among supernaturals in New Orleans. Our family had ruled as the head coven here for three generations, therefore it was our role to enforce the laws.

In most regions, it was an old vampire who was most powerful and held this role, but not here. Our grandmother Maybelle was a Siphon, then my mother, and now Jules.

Witches and vampires were well-organized, each with their own local guilds who held regular meetings at least twice a year. Grims were super secretive. They flew under the radar and rarely stepped out of line. Jules said a different grim showed up at each of the guild meetings, so no one ever knew who was in charge of them. They were…odd. The werewolves were a disorganized lot, preferring mostly to live alone and off the supernatural grid, or in packs that moved from city to city. There was no werewolf guild in any region that I knew of.

My family had a reputation for being tough but just, so there was rarely any question about our authority. But like Uncle Ben told Peter Parker, “With great power must also come great responsibility.” Maybe that’s why Jules so quickly changed her tune about this werewolf. Still, it wasn’t like her to change her mind so easily.

“Are you serious? I was sure you were going to break out your ten commandments or something. Isn’t No Werewolves number three?”

She rolled her eyes. “I meant don’t date them, don’t be friends with them, don’t become emotionally involved.”

“No, I never remember hearing that distinction. Of course, I’ve never had reason since I’ve never met a werewolf, so there’s that. You won’t even let one in the bar.”

“Jesus, Evie. That’s not true. You’re so dramatic. You act like I’m some kind of werewolf bigot.”

“Well…”

She moved closer to me and set her wine glass on the butcher block. “The reason I wanted you and your sisters to stay away is because they’re dangerous.”

“No more than vampires.”

Her stormy eyes glinted with anger. I smiled, knowing what that was all about. Well, sort of.

“Vampires can be controlled. Most of the time.” Her nostrils flared. “Werewolves can’t. Do you remember what they did—?”

“In the 1400s? No, because I wasn’t alive that long ago, but yes, I remember your incessant history lessons about the werewolves helping witch hunters.”

“They’re temperamental and often violent.” She heaved out a breath and softened her voice, sounding more like Mom than I think she knew. “Tell me, what did this wolf do tonight at the bar that set you on edge? And what’s his name by the way?”

“Mateo.” Then I muttered begrudgingly, “He almost choked a guy.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. “Shocking.”

“But it’s because of this hex.” I hoped Jules didn’t hear the defensiveness in my voice even though it was pretty obvious.

“And you’re sure it’s a hex,” she added as a statement not a question.

“It’s weird. I can’t feel it the way I normally can. But…”

“But what?”

“Well, when we touched in the bar, I sensed the block he talked about. His wolf is trapped against his will, that I know for certain. But when I probed, it was much more aggressive. Whatever kind of magic it is.”

“So, not a low-cast spell.”

“No,” I agreed. “Something much more complex. Something I don’t recognize. Or maybe it’s just I’m not familiar with werewolves enough to recognize it.”

“So you think his hex has given him these violent urges.”

Again, a statement. I shrugged with one shoulder.

Jules sipped her wine before adding, “And when this hex is broken, and he can shift into a bloodthirsty monster once a month, he’ll be perfectly calm and biddable.”

I picked at the frayed hole in the knee of my jeans. “Maybe not biddable.”

“Ha!” She drained her wine, rinsed her glass, and set it in the sink. “Eveleen Marielle Savoie. Hear me now. We’re going to help this guy because it’s our job. But you are not to get emotionally attached to this Mateo. I know you have a soft heart, but this isn’t one of your strays you bring home to keep.”

“Please, Jules. This is a job.”

“Exactly. So treat it like one.”

Bristling at her condescending tone, I asked, “As opposed to what?”

“As opposed to one of your little fix-it-and-make-it-better projects. Like Mr. Harvey.”

This again. I rolled my eyes. “Mr. Harvey was very appreciative of my healing potion.”

“Oh, yes. He certainly was. That energy elixir you infused with magic finally knocked him out of mourning for his wife and had him chasing after every eligible widow within a six-block radius.”

“Well, the elixir worked.” I should’ve kept my mouth shut. But no. I just had to open a door for Jules to point out the specifics of my meddling mayhem.

“It worked so well, Clara had to warn him against crashing her book club every week. Ms. Ferriday was threatening a restraining order, and then he had that incident with Viagra.”

“How was I supposed to know that Viagra and magic-infused energy potions were a dangerous mixture?” I snapped defensively.

Jules tilted her head, actually letting out a little laugh as she gave me that look like I was a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out.

“Evie. Just stick to animals for your little projects.” She shoved off the kitchen counter, holding my gaze with her gray eyes. “That Mateo is a man. And a werewolf, which means he’s—”

“Dangerous. I know.”

With an arch of her superior brow and a satisfied smile, she said, “Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

She flitted out of the kitchen and up the stairs at a quick gait. I let her words sink in before I jumped off the counter. No biggie. I could do my job. Spend a few hours a day with the werewolf, keep my distance and not overstep, then break the hex and be on my way. Easy peasy.

Chapter 3

~MATEO~

Waking up to brutally painful morning wood had become the norm since last month. I mean, it was nice to know the plumbing worked, but this was ridiculous. Yet one more problem made worse by this hex.

I rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, heaving a sigh at the disaster in my boxer briefs.

You gonna do something about that?

Christ. Too damn early for him.

Because you could hammer nails with the tent pole down there.

I was going to go insane. Certifiably insane if I had to listen to him pushing me this early in the morning.

Just rub one off so you don’t look like a freak out on the street. Or you could find an actual female to fuck. You do remember what that’s like, right?

Shut up.

How about that girl last night? I like her.