Putting the pen back in its holder, I stared down at the top of her blond head. “Come again?”

She put the last of the new decks on the middle row, then stood up. “I’ll bet Mateo is more balanced when you’re around. Calmer.”

“How did you know that? That’s pretty much exactly what he told me.”

“It seems logical.” She gave me that knowing Clara smile. “But I can also read it off you.”

Putting a hand on my hip, I frowned. “How can you read it off me? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Read what off you?” Jules stepped in from the hallway that led to the back courtyard, which connected to the Cauldron.

Dammit.

Lifting the two empty boxes, Clara headed toward the register. “The werewolf Evie is helping needs her company to calm his nerves.”

Jules scowled, crossing her arms in her white chef’s coat. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Keep him steady,” explained Clara. But that apparently wasn’t clear enough.

“Evie, what is she talking about?”

“It’s no big deal.” I met her by the register where Clara pulled out the drawer and started organizing the cash. “Mateo asked if I could just spend some time with him at his studio so he could focus on work. Like Clara said, apparently I calm his wolf somehow. Nothing weird or anything.”

Jules arched an eyebrow. “There’s so much weird going on, but I believe you. And to be honest, it does make sense. Your hex-breaking magic may counterbalance the effects of his curse. Actually, it might be a good idea for you to spend more time with him.”

Wait, what? Shocking.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m wondering if you might pick up on something at his gallery or his workshop about the hex. Or the witch who put it on him.”

Clara closed the cash register and leaned forward on the counter, palms down. “We’ll need to do a good witch’s round before Evie tries to break the hex.”

“True,” I agreed. A witch’s round amplified our power. It would give me a good boost of magic.

Jules bit her lip, her stormy gaze directed out the front display window. “But before that, we need Violet to check him out. Divine him to see what she can discover. Any information will help us.”

Tucking my hands in the back pockets of my jean shorts, I said, “Do you not think I can do this? Break the hex?”

I didn’t mean for my insecurity to break through, but it did. I cringed at the meekness in my own voice. I’d never failed at breaking a hex, but I’d failed in other areas. And failed to chase my dreams for fear of failure. Yeah. That f-word was the only one that made me wince.

“Not for a second, Evie.” Jules sounded put out by my moment of self-doubt. Like it was idiocy. “But from what you told me, this is something new. Something you’ve never dealt with. The more information we have, the better chance we have of success.

That made sense. “Sounds good then.” I turned to Clara. “Are you good on your own today?” I suddenly realized something. “Wait, where’s Violet? She could help if you need it.”

Clara waved a hand in the air. “She’s gone again.”

Jules’s pensive expression turned into a grimace. “Where the hell does she keep disappearing to?”

“I don’t know. You?” I asked Clara.

“No.” She smiled, pulling a packaged box from the cabinet below the register. “But it’s all fine.”

Jules scoffed. “You’re not worried?”

“Not a bit. Whatever she’s doing, it’s not hurting her well-being, that I’m sure of.”

If anyone knew, it would be Clara.

Jules huffed, turning for the door while mumbling, “I just don’t like secrets.”

Clara opened the box with plastic-sealed crystals inside. “Poor Jules. Always worrying about the wrong things.”

“What do you mean? She worries about everything.”

She laughed. “True.”

“Well, if you’re good, I’ll be off.”

“No worries.” She poured a plastic pouch of purple amethysts into her palm and closed her fingers around them. Then a pulse of her magic sizzled in the air, a dim glow emanating from her hand and fingers as she pumped a joy spell into them. “You go take care of your werewolf. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“All right then.” With that, I headed for the door. “But he’s not my werewolf,” I called over my shoulder.

Her laughter followed me out the door.

Chapter 6

~MATEO~

She’d told me she had to stop in at their shop and then would meet me at the studio later. No way was I going to try again to work on my current sculpt without her there, but I could get some other work done. Stepping through the front door of the gallery, I nodded to Missy behind the long counter against the brick wall running along the back of the gallery.

“Morning. Anything new?”

“Good morning, Mr. Cruz! Not yet, but Kyle did call to say he was switching out some paintings this afternoon.”

Her super shiny greeting rubbed me worse today, and I knew why.

“Would you care for coffee before you head into the studio?” Her sunshine smile beamed.

Missy had been working for me for two years now and knew my routine, but I was off my routine. Way off. I was off my goddamn rocker if I was honest.

“Coffee would be great. I’ll be in the office this morning for a while.”

I strode on through the studio, noting a SOLD marker on one of Sandra’s mixed-media paintings. I hadn’t sold much of my own work out of the gallery, but the percentage of commission on the artists who rented my space was keeping the place going. My real income came from private commissions, and the demands were coming faster. But, hell, I was working so much slower with Alpha constantly on my ass.

It always comes back to me, doesn’t it? Maybe you’ve lost your talent.

You don’t lose your creative talent.

You sure? Because your new work sucks.

What the hell do you know about art?

I know that mermaid’s breasts need to be bigger.

I strode down the hallway and ducked into my small office, then settled in at the desk. I stared at the invoices stacked neatly in my inbox, but my mind strayed as soon as I started leafing through them.

Bam. What kind of name was Bam? Are you kidding me? What a poser. Far too pretty and clean-cut to run a comic book shop. Weren’t those guys supposed to be shaggy and bearded in tie-dye T-shirts? When he touched her hair—

You should’ve pulled his arm out of the socket.

Jesus. Can you please just go away for five fucking minutes?

And he better keep his eyes in his skull before I scoop them out with a spoon.

A spoon? Who are you?

A grunt. I’m Alpha. Haven’t we gone over this? Are you getting dementia or something? You’re only in your hundreds.

For a werewolf, that meant I was in my prime, but he had me wondering. I was definitely losing my shit.

“Here you are, Mr. Cruz.”

Missy poked her head in with the perfect cup of coffee as usual. I’d tried to get her to call me by my first name, but she’d been eighteen when I hired her and couldn’t manage the familiarity, which was fine by me. Her lingering looks warned me early on she had a crush. When I realized that, I stopped reminding her to call me by my first name. Best to keep that barrier up. She was just a baby.

You know who’s all woman?

Please not now.

Evie.

“Thank you, Missy,” I managed to grit out.

“Are you okay, Mr. Cruz? You seem stressed lately. Is there anything I can get for you?”

Evie.

Stop!

“No, Missy. Just some things on my mind.”

You’ve got to control yourself.

That’s the problem. I’m not in control. Not yet. But I will be.

I swear, if I gave you free rein, I’d have a string of STDs by Sunday.

Werewolves don’t die of disease. I’ll take my chances.

The hell you will. I’m still in charge.

For now.

A primal shiver coursed through my body. His threat of taking over shook me with true fear. My whole life, I’d been in complete control of the beast. Except for my very early days.

As soon as the wolf started rubbing me on the inside each month, I’d pack my things and head for the woods, far away from humans for a week or longer. It was a controlled burn, the release purging the animalistic urges that lived inside of me.

But this hex. Christ. As soon as he’d melded with my psyche, intruding on my thoughts in a constant stream, I started to fear what would happen when I was finally able to cut him loose. I was also afraid I might not come back to myself if he took over. The urges and needs and thoughts weren’t just Alpha’s. They’d become mine, too. I’d curtailed my need for blood only marginally by eating semi-raw steak several days a week.

In the shift, I hunted till the bloodlust abated. The carnal lust I’d managed just fine outside shifting, thank God. The problem was I wasn’t the dog that Alpha wanted me to be. I was a serial monogamist, tending to keep one woman for a length of time before she bored of me or vice versa. Caroline had moved on about three months ago after she gave me an ultimatum to take our relationship to the next level. I never went to the next level. I couldn’t. Ever.

If I did, there’d come a time when I’d have to explain to her why I had to take a week-long trip alone in the woods once a month, and over time she’d realize I didn’t age. I mean, I did, but not at the same rate as a human. I was in my early one hundreds, but I looked thirty. And I’d look like this for another fifty. No. Better to keep a woman for a few months or a year and move on. I could get all I needed just like that.

So where’s our next prospect? Your hand can only substitute for so long. We need flesh. Warm skin. That wild witch.

Not going to happen.

“Oh, Missy,” I called into the hall where she’d disappeared.