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Authors: Marie Castle

Hell's Belle (17 page)

BOOK: Hell's Belle
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Jacq turned her palm over, grasping my fingers. I was getting used to the warmth that crept through my body at her touch. With the sharing of skin, her emotions became clearer. There was worry and a measure of contentedness. But things hadn’t changed. I couldn’t promise her anything beyond friendship. Even if something did develop between us romantically, one day she would have to leave—preferably before my hair turned gray and my bones brittle. Still, I was loath to say those words and ruin her current joy. Sometimes the truth, like bad-tasting medicine, was best given in small doses with lots of sweetness in between. No one had ever accused me of being sweet, but I could certainly attempt it.

That dimple peeked out again, and my hand, acting on its own, reached up, tucking a lock of auburn hair behind her ear. Ever since my magic had done the same, I’d been dying to let the silky strands run through my fingers. Those same traitorous digits momentarily lingered, finally pulling away.

I’d almost forgotten we were having a conversation until Jacq cheekily replied, “If I’m buying, do I get to choose? You did say that if someone gives you a gift, you wear it.” Her voice got notably deeper. “That’s the
nice
thing to do.”

I shivered, managing not to blush, but by the look in her eyes, Jacq knew the effect she was having. How typical, my own words were coming back to bite me in the ass. “Um,” I gulped, backtracking as swiftly as I could, “we’ll have to see about that.” We needed to have that talk…and soon. The dark light in her eyes said she was thinking about shopping—but for something other than jeans.

I hadn’t needed a chaperone for a trip to the mall since I was fourteen. Her eyes said that was about to change.

Chapter Nine

“Dreams often tell us what may be. Nightmares often tell us what might have been. It is up to you to be able to tell the difference.” 1687 A.D.

—Claire Jovet, friend to Jacqueline D Slone

Day Six

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” Becca said the next morning, barring me from Kyle’s door and the possibility of seeing him without Were backup. Practically poking me with her finger, Becca spit the hushed words into my face. “His Beast grows more restless. The Alpha has promised you safety. And while I wouldn’t mind seeing you with a few bruises, I don’t want Kyle to pay for it. If you’re injured, Luke will have to kill him to honor Grey’s promise. Do you want that on your conscience?”

Becca’s anger had a bitter edge. I wanted to tell her she had nothing to worry about, but after Luke’s showdown last night, I wasn’t so sure. At least I was certain of my own feelings. His? Not so much.

I’d lain awake for a long time considering that very fact. Not the issue with Luke—the one with Kyle. I’d formed a plan. I simply needed the Weres to go along with it. It was doubtful that Isabella’s fiancé had told his people about her premonitions. Henry Richmond had been unrelenting in his belief that only he and Kyle knew what Isabella’s abilities were. If no one knew, I wouldn’t be the one to let the cat out, but I couldn’t question him thoroughly if we were trying to step around that information.

With head cocked, I gave Becca my best crazy-lady look, resisting the urge to shake my finger back—she’d skipped breakfast. “That is not the worst idea you’ve ever heard. I’m sure you’ve watched reality television at least once.” Her strangled laugh was a good start. My grandpa had always said, “Kill ’em with humor if you can’t kill ’em with a knife to the gut,” which could explain my twisted sense of humor. “And Kyle won’t be an issue…if you’ll give me permission to magic him.”

Permission was important. The Pack was touchy about using magic on their people without it. It was okay for self-defense or law enforcement. Otherwise, it was dishonorable since most Weres couldn’t harness their magic. It was like bringing a gun to a knife fight. No matter that most witches couldn’t grow claws and fangs…and didn’t have a couple hundred pounds of extra muscle at their disposal. Considering Kyle’s incapacitated state, Becca’s position as his superior in the Pack allowed her to say yea or nay.

“I can calm Kyle. It’s a simple spell. If I put enough magic into it, the effects will last for two days. That buys us time to find Isabella.” I looked into Becca’s chocolate eyes. “I don’t want to bring her home to find her fiancé dead. Let me do this.”

“Fine.” Her pretty voice wasn’t so lovely coming through clenched teeth. “But one of us stays long enough for the spell to take effect.”

“Okay, but I can’t guarantee that the magic won’t affect anyone else in the room.”

Becca gave me a scorching glare then tossed her hair back. “I won’t ask my men to expose themselves to the Moon knows what magical mumbo jumbo. I’ll stay, but if I come out of there with green spots and donkey ears, then the minute you’re out of the Alpha’s territory your ass will be mine. Capisce?”

I muffled my laugh as a cough, nodding my assent. The image of a jackass with Becca’s face was too much for me. She might not care for my company, but at this moment I almost liked hers. Almost.

I wheezed out, “Understood.”

The ground the Blue Moon was built on sloped downward in the back, allowing for a basement with high windows still above ground level. That was where we were now. “After you.” I looked at the door and swept my arm forward.

Becca gave me another glare. Since I didn’t have a key, the sarcasm was obvious.

After undoing several deadbolts, Becca led me into the room. I immediately recognized Kyle from the photos in Isabella’s phone. The face and body were the same, but the messy hair and haggard expression didn’t match the carefree, laughing man Isabella had captured so well.

“Kyle?” Becca inquired softly. He turned. Magic, warm and caring, brushed my shoulder before flowing toward Kyle. Becca’s powers of manipulation weren’t all physical, but it seemed very innate and unrefined. She likely didn’t realize she had—and used—magic. Combined with the power, the sound of her voice could be very soothing. While Becca approached Kyle and began speaking to him softly, I stepped into a corner and began my spell.

The spell
was
for peace. That was true. But there was also something extra. I opened my mind’s eye, viewing the Weres. Becca’s energy was light lavender. Her aura pulsed steadily like the ocean’s waves. Magic rolled out as she spoke, washing over Kyle, hypnotic and calming, like a mother stroking her child’s hair. I forced myself to look away, lest I get trapped in her spell.

Kyle’s energy was dark yellow but didn’t have Becca’s consistency. Instead darker random bursts of color flashed out and then fell back inward, like solar flares. As I worked, tendrils of green earth-magic attached themselves to his aura. The energy’s color didn’t change, but the bursts gradually slowed, finally stopping completely, Kyle’s agitated pacing stopped. Becca glanced at me briefly before guiding him to sit on the bed.

While I worked, I examined Kyle. A faint magical thread led away from him. Upon closer inspection, I saw not one but many. Different from the magical signatures I’d followed when searching for Isabella, these were two-way bonds. The stronger the bond: the thicker the thread. One such thread, part of the Pack bond, connected Kyle to Becca. It merged with the other threads that comprised his connection to the Pack. Each was slim and fragile, but together they bound Kyle to the Pack more securely than duct tape.

Several thick threads wove through the others. This would be the Pack’s connection to Luke as the Wolf Alpha and Grey as the Clan Alpha. Half of these were blue, the others copper-red. There was also one very weak thread the same dark yellow as Kyle’s aura. Stretched taut, it didn’t resemble the rest. It had to be his bond to Isabella. But it was so weak. I studied it for several moments. Could I?

I thought so. Thanks to all the heat and the phers I’d absorbed on the dance floor the night before, I was ten times stronger today than two days ago. With only one string to follow, I could be quick, reducing the chance of growing too weak and becoming lost…even without Jacq on this side to ground me. Reckless? Maybe, but I made the choice without thought. After this spell, I would follow the thread.

As I worked, I studied Becca. Part of my spell was for clarity. It had helped me see the mating connection with Kyle as well as unintentionally revealing Becca. Technically, I wasn’t spying. Some things were just hard to miss. Her aura reflected creativity, strength, great purpose—and hid a deep heart. There was promise of more, if I only looked a little deeper. But that would’ve been an intentional invasion. Besides, I’d seen what I needed to see. The Wolf Second had lots of potential.

This next part would have been more secure if Jacq were here. But I’d left her and Luke upstairs divvying up the assignments. So far, Luke had been on his best behavior, even managing a toothy smile when we’d joined him for breakfast. I was relatively certain that for an hour at least he and Jacq could manage not to kill each other.

I moved into the magical plane quickly. The feeling was similar to sky-diving—a great rush then a thrilling sense of weightlessness. But that overriding sense that the ground was rushing toward you was missing. Here, you could freefall for eternity…or until you died when the thread holding you to your body broke. Again the colors grew brighter, varied to a degree that the mind cannot comprehend. I found the thread I needed and began to skim along its path. The trip across the Mississippi and into my state named after the rich delta waters would’ve taken hours by car but was only minutes when flying through the magical plane. I headed north, passing Gandsai and the military base. Right outside The Burg, I hit a brick wall.

Or rather, I rammed some sort of shield. Made with magic, tainted with death, it blocked my progress. The impact addled my wits and numbed my spirit, leaving me a helpless fly in the spider’s web. Cold fingers of dark magic twisted, seeking to drag me into the barrier, which began to open.

Still strong, my own thread, my link to the physical plane, instinctually reacted. For the first time ever, that connection yanked me back, ripping me from the dark web, hauling me in seconds the distance I’d previously traveled in minutes, forcing body and soul together like a rubber band, drawn tight, finally released. My consciousness roared in without preparation. I would’ve fallen, but strong arms grabbed me. I blinked several times, my mind’s eye disappearing. Right before the colors diminished, I noticed a faint outline around Becca. A ghostly lavender—or was it blue?—thread waited to be born. I blinked again, and it was gone.

The arms holding me tightened, pulling me roughly to a hard chest. I smelled a familiar musky scent and wasn’t surprised by Becca’s angry look.

“What in the blue blazes were you doing, Lace?” Luke hissed from above my head as Jacq entered the room. Seeing me in Luke’s arms, her expression completely shut down.

“I’m fine now, Lucas. You can let go.” I tried to work my way free, but it was useless. The man had an iron grip. I could stand there, or I could make a scene. I stood there. As tempting as it was to elbow Luke in the ribs or give him a tongue-lashing—not of the variety the furry ones enjoyed—any aggression around Kyle could undo our recent efforts to calm him. I gentled my voice. “With Becca’s permission, I was working some simple magic to ease Kyle. I simply overextended myself a bit.” My words were meant for Luke, but it was Jacq’s face I watched. It was important that she understand, but her expression didn’t change. “My legs were momentarily weak, so thank you for catching me. But I’m fine now…really.” There was more that I wanted to say, but I wouldn’t be saying it in a room full of werewolves.

“We’ll take it from here, Deveroux.” Jacq’s husky voice was all business. She gestured to a chair near Kyle. “Cate, if you’ll sit, we’ll begin the interview.”

I watched, amused, as Jacq proceeded to push the others from the room. It took us several minutes (and a great deal of protesting from Luke) to make him and Becca leave. As Jacq escorted them out, I turned to Kyle.

He might be sitting placidly on the bed now, but he wouldn’t stay like that. My spell had been to calm, but it was more akin to the magic used for my suppression amulets. It couldn’t remove his Wolf’s nature, which was to rage and search for his mate. The spell would only suppress that urge. It could be repeated once, maybe twice more, but it wasn’t healthy to continually repress someone’s spirit. Besides, no matter how strong or often the spell was performed, Kyle’s Beast would eventually break out. His Wolf was part of who he was. That couldn’t be closeted away forever.

Before we began, Jacq walked around the room, weaving intricate silver glyphs in the air before pushing them onto the walls and ceiling. I didn’t understand their purpose until we began to talk. As the sound echoed off the walls, it became clear that she’d warded the room with silence. Although it took some getting used to, it was worth the confusion of hearing our voices bouncing around. Jacq assured us that even the listening devices we knew had to be there wouldn’t work. Somewhere, right about now, Luke and Becca (who’d undoubtedly been hoping to listen in on our conversation) were getting really pissed. I stifled a laugh, knowing exactly the look that would be on Luke’s face. Jacq must’ve mirrored my thoughts, because the cold, hurt look in her eyes was soon replaced by a warm twinkle.

The interview went quickly with Jacq asking most of the questions. Although I wasn’t as weak as before, the trip had drained me more than I’d expected. I was still recovering from the backlash of hitting—and nearly succumbing to—that tainted, magical web. Like Henry Richmond, Kyle was adamant that no one knew about Isabella’s premonitions, and he wanted to keep it that way. There was no guarantee that Isabella’s powers would work once the Lycos virus changed her. Many in the Pack would have used that as an argument against conversion, wanting to exploit her abilities without making her Wolf, resulting in a dangerous future. Even if Grey granted Isabella a protected status, her lifespan would only be a portion of Kyle’s. And human-to-Were parings were usually infertile, a nearly tragic outcome for the family-oriented Weres.

BOOK: Hell's Belle
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