Heart Mates (9 page)

He smiled. “That’s my line.”

She smiled back; she couldn’t help it. The ultrabad alpha was compelling enough. Leavened with a touch of humor, he was irresistible. “Tell you what. I’ll turn around, and you can dress.” She suited action to words. Though the image of him, naked,
breathing
, was burned on her retinas forever.

“Sophia, please. I need you here.” His voice was underlined by the sound of denim riding up long muscular legs.

Imagining him in jeans and nothing else, she clenched her hands against a flood of desire. “Why?”

“To help me find your aunt.”

“What for?”

“I can’t tell you the full details.” His tone rumbled with a low growl.

More secrets. She hated secrets. She wished King were here, the uncomplicated little doggie with his happy little yip… He was oddly quiet. Oddly
missing.

Her mouth fell open, events rearranging themselves in her brain.

King, missing at night. The unused papers. Noah, missing during the day. King, howling like a miniature wolf. Seeming to understand her.

It gave her weird ideas.

No, no, no. There were weird ideas and then there was getting a new white coat that tied charmingly in the back—by the arms. Did King have clunky glasses and bad hair, and Noah a cape and a curl, and she was too dense to see they were one and the same?

Never seeing King and Noah at the same time. Both males assigning themselves as her impromptu bodyguards.

Her fingers tangled in her pearls. No more secrets. Not ever again. “Noah, tell me the truth.” A fair amount of time had elapsed since he started dressing so she dared turn. “Are you the dog…”

She couldn’t breathe. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…King?”

He was pulling on his shirt, muscles sliding under his skin as he worked, as gorgeous donning it as he was taking it off. His jeans were still open, baring lots of bronzed skin along with a trail of black hair she wanted to follow with her tongue.

She clamped her jaw so it wouldn’t betray her by jumping out. Something equally wet and swollen wasn’t as discreet. No jaw there so she tightened intimate muscles and narrowed her stance.

He finished pulling flannel over abs, tucked and zipped and looked at her. There was a pleading depth to his silver gaze. “Sophia, please let me explain. Yes, I’m King. Your aunt hexed me.”

“You fur-faced liar.” Anger tore through her haze. “My aunt would never throw a hex on a good person.”

“Not on purpose. She was aiming for that little thief Marlowe.”

“Oh.” Sophia’s anger deflated.
That
sounded like Auntie. Her aim wasn’t the best—honestly, she couldn’t hit a Hummer with a handful of magnets. “How do you know she hexed you? Only witches can feel magic.”

“She told me.” Flags of color darkened the skin over his cheekbones. Then she saw the question hit him. “How do you know
that
? Are you a witch?”

She grabbed her pearls. “I don’t do magic.” The truth, as far as it went.

Some tension seemed to go out of his big body. “I was wondering. Your aunt is.”

“I know.”

“The reason I didn’t tell you about King…couldn’t tell you…well, do you know about shifters?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a wolf. Pack alpha, actually.” He slid a look out of the corner of his eye, as if he was checking her reaction. To see if she was impressed?

She was, and not simply from the fact that he was alpha. But because he was brave and loyal and coping really well despite the curveball her aunt had thrown him…and it didn’t hurt that he had a body like a stallion. “So?”

“So if my pack knew I’m stuck as the dog during the day, it’d be the end of me.”

“What?” She blinked at him. “Why?”

“What do you think would happen if Killer knew? Fifteen pounds fighting a hundred fifty isn’t good odds.”

“You can’t shift at all?”

“Not during the day.”

“That’s some hex.” Sophia shook her head. “And at night?”

“After sunset, it’s like the hex is gone. I can shift, man or wolf. But if a challenge comes during the day…I
must
get this hex off me.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. Aunt Linda said she’s searching for a reversal and should be back soon.”

“You don’t understand.” He shook his head. “Soon isn’t good enough.”

“Why?”

“The old alpha’s cadre hates me. They’re trying to shove me out.”

“There are more like Killer?” She goggled.

“Yes. Five anti-alphas, each more tricky and treacherous than the other. It’s not a matter of
if
they find out—it’s when. I need to get rid of this hex yesterday.” He spread his hands in a gesture of appeal. “Please help me contact Linda.”

He had such strong, capable hands. They’d feel marvelous spread over her skin, urging her to ride faster…damn. Lust was eating her brains.

“Noah.” She used his name to signal she knew this was serious. “I hurt for you, but I simply have no idea where Auntie is.” She shook her head. “She’ll be back when she’s ready.”

His jaw clenched visibly, as if she’d hit him. “But—”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.” And if she stayed one more moment she’d lick that clenching jaw then rip his shirt from his body and lick all his muscles until they rippled under her tongue. “I have to go.”

She grabbed her case…just as a shaft of moonlight sheared through the crystal dream-catcher hanging in the window. A rainbow of colors dotted the walls—and a blue beam speared her in the eye.

A wolf and a Blue…

The prophecy. The Key. Her cousin Daniel.
Have you fallen in love…?

No.
Get away
. Urgency propelled her. She raced past Noah and fled downstairs.

A strong dread drove her out the front door and onto the sidewalk. The
empty
sidewalk—and emptier street. She stopped, bewildered.

Her car was missing.

Chapter Nine

A stone rattled across the street, as if it had been kicked into the concrete gutter.

Sophia’s head jerked up.

A man sauntered off the curb toward her, hood darkening his face. “Hello, Sophia.”

She knew that voice.

Shock numbed her. Her guts shredded, her brain threw
run, run, run,
and acid poured into her veins as her heart started pumping overtime, but she stood frozen.

Last time she’d seen him, four years ago, he’d worn a pale gold robe and a snooty attitude. Now he had on jeans, leather shoes and a hoodie, but the snooty attitude was the same. She managed a breath.

“Rodolphe.” She was proud of how normal she sounded. “Don’t suppose you know anything about my missing car?”

“Yes, actually. I’m afraid I have to keep you in this backwater burg a little longer. The fun’s just starting.”

She didn’t like that. Didn’t like that he looked younger than he had four years ago, and flush with power. What was he doing here, and why now? “What do you mean?”

“My dear little witch.” He smirked. “You’ll see.”

My dear little witch.
It scraped along her nerves like a wire brush. He’d always called her that. She’d thought it was an endearment.
Gullible twit that she was
.

He caught her wince. His face split in his white, even smile. She’d thought it attractive once. Now she saw the gloating, the smug.

The door shut behind her. Noah had padded out. Hopefully he hadn’t heard Rodolphe calling her a witch.

But Noah’s strong body at her back eased some of the tension in her spine and gave her the courage to fight back. “Rodolphe—are you an ass, or do you just play one on TV? I could care less about your clumsy threats. Where’s my car?”

Rodolphe’s smile quavered. “Around the corner. I accidentally ‘broke’ it. In the battle between powerful magic and technology, well, you know which side invariably wins.”

She managed a toothy grin in reply. “Except for the last time we met.”

His smile disappeared. “Last time was an aberration.” He lashed out with, “Too bad your aunt left. I had a little surprise for her.”

She clenched fists. “Bastard.”

“Enough.” Noah took a single step and was somehow in front of her. His stance was deadly, the wolf who protected his own. “Leave.”

While he was more than a match for any human or shifter, Rodolphe was a wizard. That challenge was sure to be met with magic, and Noah couldn’t hope to compete. Acid flooded her stomach.

Rodolphe straightened as if surprised. “You dare to tell me what to do?” He reached in his pocket.

Noah took one threatening step forward.

Rodolphe flinched; then he scowled. “You won’t be so bold after I deflate you like a balloon.” His hand rose from his pocket, something pink in it.

Noah leaped.

Before Rodolphe could extract his wand or whatever he held, the wolf had his arms pinned in a hug. Rodolphe struggled but didn’t shift the powerful alpha one jot.

“Drop it.” Noah’s voice was all growl. “
Now
.” He goosed the word with a squeeze that nearly cracked the wizard’s ribs.

“All right, all right!” Rodolphe’s voice squeaked like a little girl as he dropped the pink thing back in his pocket.

“Sophia. Get the leash.”

She hesitated leaving Noah with the wizard, but against all odds, it seemed the wolf had him stymied. She darted inside, grabbed the new leather leash, and returned it to Noah. Noah used it to bind Rodolphe’s hands behind him.

“Now go.” Noah released the bound wizard with a push.

Rodolphe stumbled before catching his balance. He covered it with an irritated shrug. “I have business elsewhere anyway. I’ll be seeing you soon, dear Sophia.” He gave her a mocking wink and stalked off.

Noah’s glare followed Rodolphe until he disappeared. “Bite me. Who was that?”

Sophia sighed. “Trouble. Let’s go inside. I’ll call a tow truck and explain while I’m waiting.” And after she pulled herself together, she’d call the Witches’ Council so they could send out the Enforcers.

“Mason will fix your car. He can fix anything.” Noah followed her through the door, growl still in his voice. “Sophia, who?”

The wolf’s presence was a strange mix of comforting and dangerous. “The long story takes a while. The short story? That was the biggest ass you’ll ever meet—should’ve been liposuctioned years ago.”

“Given. But what’s his name?” Almost as an afterthought Noah added the words she’d hoped he hadn’t heard. “And what did he mean when he called you a witch?”

Her step faltered, heart stuttering. “Could you phone Mason first?” She couldn’t look at him.

“Sophia—”

“Please?”

“Fine.” He stalked off.

She fled to the reading area and collapsed into one of her aunt’s chairs to try to pull herself together. Clasping her elbows, she gathered the tatters of her self-control. She’d thought Rodolphe was out of her life for good.

Why now? With her magic she’d have been more than a match for him. But without it she was in danger, and Noah too. Next time the wizard wouldn’t stand within leaping distance of the wolf. Stars and moon, how could she stop Rodolphe then, how could she fight him without magic? Pepper spray and stern looks wouldn’t stop a wizard. She could run. Hide. Throw up. She grasped her pearls so tight she nearly crushed them.

“Sophia, what’s wrong?”

She opened her eyes to see Noah was off the phone, his silver gaze concerned. Bigger than big, stronger than strong.

But even an alpha couldn’t hope to defeat a wizard in the long run. Noah had to get out now, while he could. Protect his pack, maybe by getting them to take a vacation. South, like Illinois, or Texas, or Rio de Janeiro. She’d heard Brazil was nice.

“Who is that man?”

Besides, once he heard the full story, he’d never want to see her again. She hitched a breath.

He sat next to her. “Tell me.”

“Damn it.” She blinked hot eyes. “Why do you have to be so persistent?”

“It’s a gift.” He gently gathered her hands from her pearls. “Let’s start slow. Who was that wizard?”

She shook her head. “How do you know Rodolphe’s a wizard?”

Noah touched his nose. “Your aunt smells different. The hooded creep had the same scent, only nastier.” Before she could ask another question he frowned at her. “You don’t. You smell like running free through a meadow on a spring day.”

His deep tones gave the words a poetry. Sophia blushed. “That’s sweet.” He wouldn’t say such sweet things once she told him the rest.

He took both her hands. “Sophia, please. I need to know if he’s a danger to my pack.”

Her chest iced. She needed to come clean and see the warmth in his eyes wither and die…for the best, what with shifter-witch smiting, but she needed some distance to get it out. “I want some tea. You?”

She didn’t give him a choice, popping to her feet and leading the way to the kitchen. Silently she busied herself filling the teakettle.

He leaned, arms folded, against the wall.

When the kettle was on the stove over a high flame she took a deep breath. “I was born a witch.” She glanced to see how he took it.

He flinched. “A
witch?
”

That hurt, but worse was coming. “Proud of it, at one time.” She paused getting the box of tea, shame pricking her nose and eyes. “I was strong, with ability across multiple elements. An, um…” She cleared her throat. “A witch princess.”

“You’re a
what?
” He backed away like she’d sprouted a rash.

“Hereditary witch princess.” She winced. “Although I prefer gene-recruited. But yeah. Long silk robes, power wand, sparkly tiara, the whole deal. Noah, please. I’m not a witch anymore, and this is difficult enough. Sit?”

Eyes narrowed like she was going to turn him into a toad, he nonetheless nodded and sat at the kitchen table.

She got down mugs, pressed leaves into two diffuser balls and settled them in the mugs with dual
clinks
. She stood a moment, her hands on the mugs, gathering her strength. “Once upon a time, I embraced everything being a witch meant. Like the kid who wanted to be president or prime minister, everything I did was fueled by determination to reach the top—High Minister of the Witches’ Council.”

“The Council. Sweet running prey.”

“You know about the Council?”

“Stories.” He shuddered.

“At least it’s not a crime syndicate, right?” She tried to laugh and failed. The kettle whistled. She was silent as she poured steaming water over the tea diffusers. Again, the task only lasted so long. “I studied hard and worked every talent I had to get accepted into the top Council-approved university in the country, the best damned freshman witch you ever saw. But even among mages, you can’t get to the top on grades alone. You need connections.”

“You’re a damned royal witch. What more connection do you need?”

The anger in his tone rippled unhappily up her spine. Trying to dunk both diffusers at once she fumbled it, sloshing tea onto the table.

With a small
tch
he took the mugs away from her, firmly but not unkindly. As he rose to get the dishcloth to wipe up, she sat and clasped her hands. Without his burning silver gaze it was easier to say what needed to be said.

“My connections would have been my parents. But they died in an airplane. A midair explosion.”

“Oh, Sophia.” He returned to her, tossed the cloth and took her clasped hands. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks.” Her fingers relaxed under his.

“How old were you?”

“I was eighteen. My brother was twenty.” That had spurred Gabriel’s need to make tech work with magic.

“Let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.” Noah gave her fingers a squeeze, released her hands and retrieved a jar of honey. He dosed the mugs with generous dollops of gold. Then he took their mugs into the store and sat on a couch.

She followed and sat beside him. He handed her hers, barely cool enough to hold, but the heat—and the sympathy in his eyes—strengthened her to go on. “I enrolled in the Council’s page program, hoping for a recommendation. At first I was a general gofer, fetching coffee and mail. I moved up to data entry on the Persons of Magic census, not popular but high-profile.”

She paused to sip, fingers wrapped around the mug for warmth. “I caught the eye of a very powerful water wizard named Rodolphe.”

A low growl emanated from Noah’s chest.

“On the surface he was everything I wanted to be. Successful. A sharp dresser. A sharp mind, or at least he had answers for everything. A sharp smile. Everything about him was sharp, which should have been a big red warning. But I was nineteen years old and thought I knew everything.” She blinked. A thread of wet heat ran down her cheek. “I didn’t know a damned thing.”

Noah put an arm around her shoulders in silent support.

Something deep inside her eased at that. “The Council’s upper house is hereditary, but mages in the lower house rely on training, raw power and connections. They work hard to get where they are, the best of the best. I was excited to come to Representative Rodolphe’s notice.” She shook her head. Such an idealistic idiot.

“You were nineteen and had no one to tell you better.”

“You’re being kind. Gabriel didn’t blunder like that. You wouldn’t have either.”

“I’ve made my own mistakes.” The flat, pained tone told her he had his own bitter history.

“I’m sorry.” She set a hand on his, to comfort him, but the simple touch eased her knotted shoulders too.

Their eyes connected briefly. The bright silver of his was more than she could bear. Her hand flew to her pearls and she looked away.

A beat. Then he prompted, “Rodolphe?”

“He said he’d known my parents. ‘My dear little witch,’ he said. ‘They’d want me to shepherd your career.’ That sold me. I was thrilled when he made me his assistant. But while he pretended to reinforce my training, he subtly skewed it. At first it was simply, ‘We work hard, so we make the hard decisions.’ I was all about hard work, so I lapped that up. Then he shifted to ‘People need us to make the hard decisions.’ Then, ‘People
expect
us to make the hard decisions. It’s our duty.’” She grabbed her pearls harder. “And then, ‘We make the decisions. It’s our
right
.’”

“Sophia, you were young.”

“Not so young by then.” She fisted pearls so tight she bruised bones. “I’ve never told anyone the full story but… I was twenty-two, under his influence for three years, when he came to me with a ‘special project’. ‘Terrorists,’ he said, ‘are planning a heinous attack on the mundane capital.’”

“Damn my paws.”

“Yes.” She laughed with no humor. “Blindly idealistic, I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t ask what kind of attack or where his information came from or even for proof. All I said was, ‘Yes sir. What can I do?’”

He set aside his mug and hers and took her in his arms. It gave her the courage to go on.

“Rodolphe said the terrorists were storing cash and account information in a mundane safe. ‘We can cut off their funding, stop the attack before it ever gets started, if we rob that safe.’

“At that point I did show a little brains. ‘What about the mundane police?’ I said. ‘Can’t we tell them and let them handle it?’

“He said, ‘No, my dear little witch.’ He always called me that, my dear little witch. I thought it meant that he cared about me; I thought it was sweet. I never noticed he only used it when he didn’t want me asking questions.”

Noah growled, “I’ll kill him.”

She pulled from his arms, her eyes flying to his. He’d defend her, even now? “Thank you, but…you may change your mind after you hear the rest. Rodolphe—he took my face in his hands. It was so
sweet
, I thought he was going to…that he was…well. When I was most vulnerable, he hit me with ‘Sophia. People expect us to make the hard decisions. We
need
to do this.’

“And because I trusted him, because I believed in magic and my heritage, I said meekly, ‘All right.’”

She only realized she was trembling when Noah pulled her back into his arms. His warmth ate the shivers away.