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I couldn’t forgive that. Then for him to finally confess that he was the one behind Jolie Bordeaux’s murder all those years ago? On the Luna’s authority, I was given the orders to eliminate whoever was responsible for the death that set the stasis curse into motion.
But the glee in which he spoke of stabbing Tristan? That just might be one of the reasons I was as brutally efficient with his elimination as I was…
Hey. At least I remembered Fallon’s blood phobia in time to get rid of the body. I’m not all bad.
So, yeah. I wanted to believe that it was his injured leg that had him falling back, and I’m so distracted with thoughts of him that I almost miss the fact that someone else has been stalking me.
The air shifts. I get a whiff of it, making a face when it hits me. I can’t help it. I put on the breaks, sneakers kicking up clumps of frozen ground as my hands fly to my face, covering my sensitive nose. It helps a little, but it’s not enough to completely block the shit stink that’s suddenly filled my nostrils.
This is the woods. While much of the prey animals are hibernating, there are plenty of others who aren’t. Voles. Shrews. Deer… shit in a forest is pretty common. But this is different. It’s mixed with something sickly sweet and almost floral.
Witch.
There’s a witch out there.
No, I fix, when two males come striding out from behind the rocky outcrop that I claimed as mine… there are two witches right here.
I recognize the tall, lanky dark-haired one as the witch who followed Armand out of the Coven House after I slaughtered Remy Gauthier. For the life of me, I can’t remember his name, only that he didn’t seem all that happy at the idea that Fallon would be the next madame.
The other male is visibly younger. Maybe twenty, though witches are like shifters: you can’t judge their age by their appearance. He has a mop of black curls and a look of hatred on his thin face as his dark eyes narrow on me.
Oh, wonderful. Because this just what I need right now.
Though my first instinct is to bare my teeth at them, giving them only that for a warning before I shift and attack, I do what I’ve always done: I think to myself, WWLD?
What would Lorelei do?
My good twin would find out what the witches are doing by her territory before she went wolfy on their asses. And since this is technically neutral land, they are technically allowed to be here. It’s just me who thinks of this part of Winter Creek as mine.
Be friendly, Jeannie. Fallon and Lucas have spent months working on keeping the truce up between witches and wolves. Don’t fuck it up now?—
The younger witch’s hands take on an ominous glow. The taller one turns a grin so predatory on me, if it wasn’t for the way sparks shoot of his hand as he advances on me—and, you know, the shit stink clinging to him beneath the overwhelming perfume of lavender—I might have mistaken him for a wolf for a second there.
“Howdy fellas,” I greet, tamping down my own wolf’s desire to show him what I can do with my hands. “Can I help you?”
See? Nice Jeannie. Friendly Jeannie. You don’t always have to treat every situation like it’s a threat?—
“Look, Gabriel,” the tall one says. “We found her. The murderous bitch.”
The younger one—Gabriel—spits on the ground.
Fucking wonderful.
Still, I don’t want to go from zero to a hundred unless I have to. Murderous bitch, huh? I can’t really argue against either. As a female wolf, I wear being a ‘bitch’ like a badge of honor. And murderous? Well… if the shoe fits.
These two were looking for me. I’m sure they think they have their reasons, but if it’s because their previous coven leader was murdered three months ago? Shockingly, that one was on Fallon. She’s the one who went for Marie Bordeaux’s heart, though Armand and Claude—that’s right, the tall witch is called Claude—seemed convinced Fallon only got the nerve because Marie’s spell turned her into a puppet, forcing her to kill her.
Suicide by wolf shifter. It takes all fucking kinds, yeah?
The way these two are eyeing me now, it looks like they might be heading for the same fate. But since I’d really rather not start shit if I don’t have to, let’s see if I can de-escalate this situation before it gets out of paw.
“Gotta be more specific there.” I shrug. “I’ve killed a lot of people, sparky.”
Gabriel’s hands convulse, the white glow surrounding his fingers. “And you’re proud of it, too, aren’t you?”
I show him my perfectly normal, non-glowing hand, my thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “Just a smidge.”
Okay. Maybe I’m still frustrated over what happened with Tristan earlier. I’d love some way to work out my aggression, and if these two don’t want to back down, I have no problem making them.
