away . . . revealing her face.
While Will worked to catch his breath, Munro glanced over. “Ach, and there she is. You lucky sod.”
Her damp hair was sun-streaked, cropped close to her head. Her lips were plump. She sported freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her cheekbones were prominent, like a model’s might be, but with her pointed chin, bee-stung mouth, and short locks, she looked like a wee pixie.
He felt one corner of his lips curl. — Yours. — Had his arms closed more tightly around her?
Munro said, “Her timing is impeccable. She’s your lucky penny.”
Will’s grip loosened, his excitement dimming. “Just look at her. She’s too . . . too . . .” Too everything he could ever dream. “You know something’s inherently wrong with her. She must be shallow, vapid, dim. Webb must’ve left his mark on her.”
“She’s also young , Will. Whatever damage Webb might’ve done can be righted if you’re patient with her.”
“Why would fate give me a human to protect? Especially this human?” When he was raw with rage toward her father?
“Because, brother, you can handle it.”
Will’s Instinct was pushing, his beast stirring for her; resisting her pull was harder than the tortures he’d recently endured. He gazed down at her, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. It was plush like a little pillow. The lower edge went straight across before curving up at the corners, a soft bracket. Gods, she was a pretty thing.
— Yours. —
Mayhap she was his reward? To help me get over torture, help me understand my past. “Looks like I’ll have to handle it.”
“Where do we take her after Loa’s?” Munro asked. “My first thought is Bheinnrose. We’d be isolated up in Nova Scotia, away from all this commotion.”
“I say we stay in Louisiana, at Glenrial. Strategically, it’s easier to defend.” Though the compound consisted of hundreds of acres, it was completely walled in, with a trained watch stationed at intervals. The place was simply too close to the homes of myriad other factions not to be guarded like a vault.
“Aye then, I’ll make the call.” Munro briefly spoke to Madadh, Glenrial’s master of the watch, explaining all that had happened, telling him to get the clan prepared for anything. Munro hung up once they’d made the Quarter, concentrating on driving.
The maze of one-way streets was filled with drunken tourists, mounted police, and rolling Lucky Dog stands.
Will gazed down at Chloe. Were her breaths shallowing? — Protect! — Another jolt of fear hit him. I canna lose her, just when I’ve found her. “Faster, Munro.”
With his lips thinned, Munro made a sharp left, heading the wrong way down a one-way street. “I’ll get us there—just have your credit card ready. Loa will be pissed that we’re no’ there to flirt with her.”
ELEVEN
Candles, taxidermy, incense, cannabis.
As ever, Will’s senses were overloaded by the cacophony of scents inside Loa’s store.
The bell above the door was still ringing as he and Munro barged into the candlelit interior, Will with Chloe wrapped securely in his arms. He called, “Loa!” The scuffed wood floor creaked beneath his feet, but there was no answer.
Whereas the front of the shop was a touristy affair—with fake voodoo charms and dolls, shelves of tarot card decks and black candles—the back was an authentic Lore establishment, filled with mystical wares. A Lore-mart.
Munro entered the concealed doorway first, Will right behind him.
Loa was seated at a counter, reading some tome with Geopolitical in the title. Her smile was broad as she called, “Hot and Hotter?” It dimmed when she caught sight of their battle-worn appearances—and Will’s bloody female. “Is that who them spirits are talkin’ ’bout?” she said with her islander accent. “The auction prize?”
“Aye, and she’s injured,” Will said.
“My business how?” she said, adding sarcastically, “You buyin’ a witch
While Will worked to catch his breath, Munro glanced over. “Ach, and there she is. You lucky sod.”
Her damp hair was sun-streaked, cropped close to her head. Her lips were plump. She sported freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her cheekbones were prominent, like a model’s might be, but with her pointed chin, bee-stung mouth, and short locks, she looked like a wee pixie.
He felt one corner of his lips curl. — Yours. — Had his arms closed more tightly around her?
Munro said, “Her timing is impeccable. She’s your lucky penny.”
Will’s grip loosened, his excitement dimming. “Just look at her. She’s too . . . too . . .” Too everything he could ever dream. “You know something’s inherently wrong with her. She must be shallow, vapid, dim. Webb must’ve left his mark on her.”
“She’s also young , Will. Whatever damage Webb might’ve done can be righted if you’re patient with her.”
“Why would fate give me a human to protect? Especially this human?” When he was raw with rage toward her father?
“Because, brother, you can handle it.”
Will’s Instinct was pushing, his beast stirring for her; resisting her pull was harder than the tortures he’d recently endured. He gazed down at her, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. It was plush like a little pillow. The lower edge went straight across before curving up at the corners, a soft bracket. Gods, she was a pretty thing.
— Yours. —
Mayhap she was his reward? To help me get over torture, help me understand my past. “Looks like I’ll have to handle it.”
“Where do we take her after Loa’s?” Munro asked. “My first thought is Bheinnrose. We’d be isolated up in Nova Scotia, away from all this commotion.”
“I say we stay in Louisiana, at Glenrial. Strategically, it’s easier to defend.” Though the compound consisted of hundreds of acres, it was completely walled in, with a trained watch stationed at intervals. The place was simply too close to the homes of myriad other factions not to be guarded like a vault.
“Aye then, I’ll make the call.” Munro briefly spoke to Madadh, Glenrial’s master of the watch, explaining all that had happened, telling him to get the clan prepared for anything. Munro hung up once they’d made the Quarter, concentrating on driving.
The maze of one-way streets was filled with drunken tourists, mounted police, and rolling Lucky Dog stands.
Will gazed down at Chloe. Were her breaths shallowing? — Protect! — Another jolt of fear hit him. I canna lose her, just when I’ve found her. “Faster, Munro.”
With his lips thinned, Munro made a sharp left, heading the wrong way down a one-way street. “I’ll get us there—just have your credit card ready. Loa will be pissed that we’re no’ there to flirt with her.”
ELEVEN
Candles, taxidermy, incense, cannabis.
As ever, Will’s senses were overloaded by the cacophony of scents inside Loa’s store.
The bell above the door was still ringing as he and Munro barged into the candlelit interior, Will with Chloe wrapped securely in his arms. He called, “Loa!” The scuffed wood floor creaked beneath his feet, but there was no answer.
Whereas the front of the shop was a touristy affair—with fake voodoo charms and dolls, shelves of tarot card decks and black candles—the back was an authentic Lore establishment, filled with mystical wares. A Lore-mart.
Munro entered the concealed doorway first, Will right behind him.
Loa was seated at a counter, reading some tome with Geopolitical in the title. Her smile was broad as she called, “Hot and Hotter?” It dimmed when she caught sight of their battle-worn appearances—and Will’s bloody female. “Is that who them spirits are talkin’ ’bout?” she said with her islander accent. “The auction prize?”
“Aye, and she’s injured,” Will said.
“My business how?” she said, adding sarcastically, “You buyin’ a witch
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