Roar (Witches & Warlocks Book 3) (6 page)

He takes in my disheveled appearance and quirks an eyebrow. “What could possibly have happened at Sir Perks-a-Lot that has you so sweaty?”

I sigh. “OK. I fibbed a little.” Or a lot. “I didn’t have a late shift.” His face darkens and I hurry on. “I went to the gym.”

The little thundercloud of negativity lifts from his face and I feel simultaneously great and awful. “The gym?”

“Yep.” I make my lips pop a little when I say the ‘p,’

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid you’d want to come.” Which is mostly true. I mean, it’s totally true. I’m just leaving out the real reason I didn’t want him to come. Just a little omission is all. No big deal. Right?

“What? You don’t want my company?” There’s that little storm cloud again.

“No. It’s not that. I didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

OK. So that was a full on lie, but I’m gonna have to just deal with it. Noah urges me towards the shower but makes me promise I’ll come back and keep him company when I’m done. I was so right. The hot water feels magnificent and even though my body complains a little as I bend and twist with the soapy poof, that feels pretty damn good, too.

And my sweats and big comfy slippers? Those feel amazing. I collapse onto the couch with a little grunt and lean back against the pillows.

“So, the gym, huh?”

I nod and make a noise of affirmation.

“Why? You’re gorgeous.” There’s a certain amount of awesome included with hearing him say that.

I lift my head and catch his eye, a full on blush blazing across my cheeks. “Just thought some balance would be nice. You know? Been working on all my mental powers. Thought it’d be a good idea to work my physical power as well.” As I say it, I realize it’s true.

Noah gives a little shrug and while he’s not got the full on gym-rat body of the wolves at the den, his chest does beautiful things inside that t-shirt of his. “Makes sense, I guess. Where’d you go?”

“BAM! Fitness.” I try to stay nonchalant. “Albert’s gym.”

Noah looks concerned despite my nonchalance. “Zoe. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Not sure if I’m more frustrated by his little flare of macho protectiveness or flattered by it, I bite back my first response, which was gonna be too bitchy and rude anyway. “I thought I’d be in good hands.”

Noah smiles and I can tell he’s trying to decide what to say. “How many times are you going?”

“Albert’s got me on the schedule four times a week.”

His lips makes a surprised little ‘o’ and I can’t help but laugh. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, all prior judgement obliterated by genuine concern.

“No.” I let my head drop back to the pillows behind me. “Not at all.”

“Well, here. I’m sure you’re sore. Let me work on those muscles.”

Is he offering me a massage?

“Where’s it hurt the worst?”

“Ummm…” I make an overly thoughtful face. “Here,” I say and make a broad gesture that encompasses the length of my body.

Five minutes later I’m stretched out on my stomach and Noah is working on the muscles in my back. His hands are strong and his magic is flowing and I’m
so
not complaining. In fact, I think I’m melting in pleasure, trying very diligently not to embarrass myself by moaning too much under his knowledgeable ministrations.

“How are you so good at this?”

“I just keep getting more badass, don’t I?” He presses on a particularly sore spot near my shoulder. “Now, hush so I can focus.”

I don’t know how long he works on me or why he’s chosen to work on me. I mean, I really want to believe that he’s starting to forgive me and maybe even remember what I meant to him. Maybe he’s thawing towards me. Maybe this is a big step towards the happily ever after I so desperately want.

But, then again, this is Noah. Kind, sweet, thoughtful Noah. It’s not in his nature to let those who’re hurting keep on hurting. Although I don’t think if Luke had come in all sweaty and sore from the gym that Noah’d be offering
him
any deep tissue massages. I almost chuckle at the thought until Noah hits another sore spot and I groan instead.

Truth of the matter is, it’s better not to overthink this whole thing. I’m just gonna be me and let Noah be Noah and right now that means I’m getting a killer massage. I think I can be fine with that.

Luke bursts in through the front door, followed by a blast of cold air and I shiver as goosebumps flare across my skin. “You guys a thing now, I guess?” I sit up in time to see his mouth set in a tight little line as he speaks.

How in the hell am I supposed to answer that? Thankfully, Noah does it for me.

“Would it matter to you if we were?”

Luke scowls. “More than you know, little man. But we don’t have time to get into all that right now. We got a text from Daya. There’s a new target.”

Chapter Seven

“When does she want us to move?” Noah sounds exhausted, but I think that’s more because he hates it when we have to kill people. Even if they are vampires.

“Now.” Luke takes in my sweats and disheveled hair. “Obviously not
right
now. We’re going to some pretty high end places, chick. I’d put a little effort into it.” He mutters something about warming up the car and leaves.

“What did you ever see in him?” If it wasn’t so obscenely awkward to realize Noah asked me that question, it would be funny, because I was just asking myself the same thing.

“He was busy using magic to make me fall in love with him, remember?” Maybe my voice is a little more clipped than I want it to be, but I’m fighting a little anger and a lot of embarrassment. “And he was sweet as could be. Back when he wanted me to love him. It felt good.”

I stand up and start to limp off towards my bedroom — high heels are gonna suck tonight — but Noah stops me.

“But after. After you knew. Why did you sneak out of Windsor Manor to see him?” Noah’s voice is taut with controlled emotion. I can only imagine there’s so much more he wants to say on this topic but is keeping it all boxed up inside.

I take a breath because, really? We’re gonna do this now? This conversation we so desperately need to have is gonna happen when I’m tired and we’ve got exactly no time at all to take our time and say what we need to say.

“Imagine for just a second that you thought you were falling in love for the first time. That you’d found someone who liked all the things you liked, laughed at all your jokes. And then imagine that for your whole life you’d been locked inside yourself, words and ideas and fucking brilliant thoughts stuck behind some barrier you thought was the result of some major flaw in your basic personality. And this guy? He takes the time to draw it all out of you. Makes you comfortable enough to speak when that’s all you’ve ever wanted in your life but never, not once, had gotten to experience. Now, imagine that you find out it’s all a front. None of it is real.
Nothing
about your life is real.” I watch Noah’s face soften as I walk towards him, closing the distance between us. “I’ve never been as confused as I was in Windsor Manor. I had feelings for Luke that I knew were based on a lie, but damn it, I just hadn’t come to terms with everything. I needed answers, that’s all. That’s why I snuck out to see him.”

Noah sighs and his shoulders fall about three inches, tension he’d been holding for weeks melting away. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me too.”

I want to touch him, to reach out and run my hand across the stubble on his cheek, to wrap my arm around his shoulders and draw him close to me. I want to feel the heat of his lips on mine and his body pressing into me. I want to use the belt loops on those jeans that should be illegal he looks so good in them and pull his hips into mine.

You know what?

Strike that.

I want
him
to touch
me.

My breath is coming quickly through my parted lips and my eyes are hooded as they sweep across his face, searching for some indication of what he’s feeling. Well, all the indication I need is written all across that face. My desire is reflected there. He steps towards me, puts a hand on my cheek and that blessed little golden ping of contact feels so good that I sigh and close my eyes against the tears that spring to life at his touch, the touch I’ve been wanting for months now.

And then it all goes to hell, with Luke banging open the front door and me scurrying down the hallway to get dressed as Luke calls out for Noah to join him so they can go over a plan.

Shit.

I close my bedroom door behind me, lean against it, and close my eyes. My chest is heaving and I can’t stop the smile from sliding across my face and holy shit I wish he’d had the chance to kiss me again.

All the fatigue I’d been fighting from a few minutes ago is gone. Banished from existence by Noah’s hand on my cheek. I scour my closet for something decent to wear. I use that word
scour
like I really have to search extra hard or something. That’s not fair at all. Daya outfitted me with some designer duds when it became obvious that vampires seem to prefer hunting in nightclubs and bars. Oftentimes high end nightclubs and bars. I’ve got my fair share of elegant dresses and sweet ass shoes. Clean lines, nothing too revealing. The goal is to blend in, not stand out.

Here’s where being a witch has its little perks. My hair is in bad shape from drying up in a bun on top of my head. My face is devoid of makeup. I mean hell, I’m fresh out of the shower and ready for bed. I’ve got a good hour of prep time ahead of me. Except not really. With a little wag of my fingers and the proper incantation, my hair falls down my back in perfectly messy waves and tada! Makeup! A subtle, smoky eyeliner, a bit of red on my lips, and I look … well … I don’t look half bad.

After a moment, I use another spell to get rid of the bone weary fatigue that’s settling right back into my body. I’m gonna pay for that one tomorrow. That’s a little bit of dark magic there. I could have used light magic and healed myself, but that would have taken too long. The dark magic is more like popping a pill, I’m basically borrowing against tomorrow’s energy.

Nothing I can’t fix by sleeping a little later and grabbing a couple extra shots of espresso at work.

I hear the guys, banging around in the bathroom, drawers closing and body spray spritzing and just as my hand clasps around the doorknob, I consider the amulet Barnabe Withers gave me. He says it’s for protection, and maybe it is, but knowing what I know, it’s probably got some ulterior motive attached to it. What better time to wear it than tonight? Maybe even find out just exactly what kind of secondary spells are on the thing.

It’s not exactly the most fitting accessory, what with the leather strap and all, but maybe it’ll fit under my dress. Crazy thing is, as I pull it out of the wooden box from Barnabe, it’s not leather anymore. The amulet dangles from a long silver chain and sets off my dress perfectly. Hmmm. Curiouser and curiouser. One of these days, I might take living with magic for granted. This is not one of those days.

After one last admiring glance at myself in the mirror, I head to the living room where Luke and Noah are waiting. I’m not gonna lie, the dual dropped jaws and body sweeping stares they give me are most definitely good for my morale.

“Not bad for ten minutes, huh?” I twirl, giving them a chance to see it all and come to a standstill with a little satisfied grin. Let Luke get a good look at what he could have had. Let Noah get a good look at what he most definitely still could have. I chuckle to myself. What would old Zoe have thought about the kind of things new Zoe thinks and does?

The guys fill me in on the target. An Andrew Llewellyn who seems to think he’s more James Bond than Eric Northman. It’s all tuxedos, champagne, and posh interiors for this guy. Oh, and he loves blondes.

“So we can be glad you look as delicious as you do,” Luke says with a dark smile.

Noah’s jaw tightens. “I guess,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

So if I’m the bait, I’m gonna have to spend some time alone, making sure our guy can see me seeing him. The good news is that Andrew isn’t cruel. If I catch his eye, I have a night of dancing and conversation ahead of me before he discreetly tries to drink my blood and leave me for dead. That is, as long as he doesn’t catch a whiff of the magic in me like Nancy did. That wouldn’t be very good at all.

I wrap my fingers around Barnabe’s amulet and hope for discretion.

We pile into Luke’s car — not wanting to end up sitting next to Luke, I slide into the backseat — and I wonder, not for the first time, how he’s managed to afford keeping it around. It’s not high end, but it’s new. Well new
er
anyway. I know my meager salary from the coffee shop just barely covers rent and food. Same with Noah at the bookstore. I don’t even know where Luke works. But, he always has money come rent time and somehow manages to afford this thing.

Not that I’m complaining at the moment. It’s cold. My dress is short. There’s snow. My heels are high. I way prefer taking a car to walking or riding the bus. We ride in silence and I take the time to consider my approach for the evening.

Andrew Llewellyn considers himself a sophisticated lady killer. Pun intended. Would that mean he prefers sophisticated ladies? Or will a naive young woman be better? ‘Cause I’m not sure I can pull off sophisticated, but I sure know exactly how to come off as naive and unsure of myself. And then there’s this tiny little whiney part of me that wonders why I need to bait in the first place. Our tracker spell and stalk the victim technique has worked just fine up until this point. Except not really. Nancy was totally aware we were following her. Assuming we’re working our way up the food chain and not down, it’s probably best to assume that we’re gonna end up dealing with more and more powerful vampires.

Great.

I shudder a little at the thought, not quite consoled by the fact that I’m a pretty powerful witch. It’s a long car ride and my energy is waning again. I steal a glance at the clock. 10:45 and I’m ready for bed. That little jolt of magic I gave myself is already fading. There’s no way I’m gonna feel comfortable using magic once we’re in range of the target. He’ll smell it. Which is totally unnerving.