Soulbound: A Lone Star Witch Novel (26 page)

“Hey, Xan, you look like you could use these.”

I glance up from the order sheets to find Travis standing at the door to my office, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a bottle of Advil in the other.

“Bless you,” I tell him, disregarding the directions and pouring three Advil onto my palm. “How did you know?”

“You mean besides the fact that your very fine brother has spent the entire day sitting in the corner of the café and glowering at anyone he deems suspicious—which
is our entire clientele, by the way. He even gave poor Mrs. Rodriguez the evil eye and she’s got to be eighty.”

“Eighty-four last September,” I correct him, downing the pills with a big gulp of coffee. I burn my mouth in the process, but I don’t even care. I’ll do anything to stop the headache currently pounding away at the muscles at the top of my spine.

“Right. Or, it could be the fact that Officer MacCutie stuck around way too long today—and there was absolutely no flirting. You didn’t even make a design on his coffee.”

Damn straight. I’m not exactly thrilled with Nate right now—especially with the way he kept staring at my brother and the way he keeps sniffing around, trying to dig up information about Declan. And me. Of course, he wasn’t feeling very flirtatious either—I guess my being a murder suspect puts a damper on that whole thing.

“Or”—Travis pauses dramatically—“it could be the fact that it’s the afternoon of New Year’s Eve and you’re hiding back here working on orders that you won’t send in for two weeks when you could be in the front wishing all the customers a Happy New Year.”

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m being antisocial.” I lean my head down and rub a hand over my aching eyes. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

“No rush. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he comes up behind me and starts rubbing my neck, exactly where the blinding tension is gathered.

I all but melt into a puddle right there at my desk.

“Why are you so good at that?” I ask, laying my head on my desk to give him better access.

“Remember masseuse Jack? He taught me everything he knew.”

“Remind me again why you broke up with him?”

Travis shudders. “He was the worst snorer ever. I couldn’t sleep, like, ever. Remember? After a few weeks, I was a zombie.”

I do remember, but still—“For back rubs like this, I’d put up with a hell of a lot of snoring.”

“And yet, you have me, so you don’t have to.” He finishes up, then gives me a quick hug. “Happy New Year’s, gorgeous! Meg just came in and I am out of here—I’ve got to go home and get ready for a big night out on the town.”

“Be careful,” I tell him, feeling more like his mother than his employer and friend. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He laughs. “I’m young and hot. Of course I’m going to do something stupid. A lot of somethings, if I’m lucky.” He pauses, grows serious. “But before I go, I just want to make sure that your gorgeous, glowering brother will be seeing you home. You don’t need me to stick around?”

My heart melts as quickly as my muscles did. “I’m pretty sure Donovan won’t let me out of his sight, like, ever,” I assure him.

“Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought. More power to him.”

If only he knew just how much power Donovan already had. “Have a great time, tonight. Kiss a few hotties for me.”

He snorts. “I think you have enough trouble on your hands between Officer MacCutie and tall, dark and adorable from yesterday. Any guys I kiss tonight will be all for me.”

He disappears from the doorway and I stand up to stretch. If Travis is off, then it means it’s close to five o’clock—which in turn means I’ve been hiding back here for close to two hours. It’s a miracle Donovan hasn’t poked his head in just to make sure I haven’t made a run for it. He’s been über-protective since he saw the dark Heka mark on my thigh yesterday. While he hasn’t called
Mom and Dad yet, he did put in a call to the Council—one they’ll return because he’s the heir to the Ipswitch throne—to get their take on the whole warlock/serial killer situation. Plus, Travis wasn’t exaggerating when he said Donovan hadn’t moved from his spot in the corner of Beanz. Except to introduce himself to Nate and glower at the masses a little, that is.

I spend about ten minutes more straightening up my office—no one wants to start the new year with their desk completely covered—before making my way out to the front. But when I get out to the front counter it’s to find Donovan nowhere in sight. A little frisson of alarm works its way down my spine and I start to ask Meg where he went just as a couple of college kids mosey in. I help Meg fill their orders—even going so far as to draw party hats in the foam at the top of their coffee—but the whole time I’m freaking out.

The second the kids wander away from the front counter I turn to ask about Donovan, but she’s way ahead of me. “Your brother, who is super-hot by the way, left a couple of minutes ago. He asked me to tell you that he has a meeting with the AWC, but he’ll be back in one hour to pick you up.”

“The ACW?” I ask.

“Yeah, something like that. Oh, and a crazy-hot guy came in looking for you right before your brother left. I don’t know what he wanted, but whatever it is Donovan took care of it. They left together.”

When she says crazy-hot, my mind goes immediately to Declan. Not that it’s been far from him all day, but still. “The guy. What did he look like?”

She smiles a Cheshire cat kind of grin. “He was dark, really dark. Not just his hair but the whole package, you know what I mean? He just gave off this dangerous vibe that had every woman in the place giving him a third or fourth look. You know what I’m talking about.”

Did I ever. “Did he have a tattoo right here?” I gesture to where my own mark is.

“Yeah, he did. Except it was kind of like a starfish. You know, like the one on your palm, only black.”

I nod, a feeling of disbelief moving through me. So Declan stopped by and he and my older brother—who fewer than twenty-four hours ago warned me to stay as far away from him as I can get—have taken off for parts unknown? It doesn’t make sense. My brother barely knows Declan.

“Do you know where they went?” I ask.

“No idea.” She rolls her eyes. “You know men—they’re not exactly forthcoming. But I will say, they both looked pissed as hell when they left.”

“Pissed as hell? At each other or someone else?”

“Oh, each other, definitely.” She lowers her voice. “Whatever that guy said, your brother didn’t like it and vice versa.”

I close my eyes and try to ignore the fact that the tension headache I’ve had most of the afternoon is now working its way around my temples to the spot right behind my eyes, so that now my whole head feels like it’s being squeezed in a vise.

Before I can say anything else, the bells Travis tied to the front door for the holidays jingle. I look up in time to see Salima entering my coffeehouse, her bag of doom over her right arm.

“Shit.” I duck into the kitchen before she can see me. “Tell her I’m not here.”

But somehow I have a feeling that isn’t good enough—I’m terrified she has radar where I’m concerned. Determined not to get trapped in another discussion about how I can flex my magic muscles, I grab my cell phone, shove it in my pocket and duck out the back door.

I’m totally aware of how ridiculous it is that I’m running from a little old lady with a beehive and atrocious
fashion sense but I can only imagine the discussion she and my mother had about me this morning. I’d rather freeze to death out here than go back in my shop until I know she’s gone.

While I’m standing here, I pull out my cell phone and call Donovan. If he’s already had a chance to meet with the ACW rep for our coven, he might have some answers for me. And to be honest, I could really use some of those. As well as some advice on how to deal with it.

He doesn’t pick up his phone.

Which means he’s either in the middle of the meeting or Declan and he have beaten the hell out of each other and he’s lying in a ditch somewhere. In my head, I see how easily things between Declan and Donovan can go south, and while I love and admire my brother and his magic, deep inside I know he’s no match for Declan. Of course, from what I’ve seen, nothing short of a nuclear bomb really is.

I fire off a quick text to Donovan asking him how everything is going with the Council.

Uneasiness is growing in me, razor blades of anxiety rocketing along my nerve endings and I pace up the block a little to relieve the tension, then turn to return to Beanz. Except I can’t go back.

It’s like I’ve run into a giant wall right here in the middle of the sidewalk. I can’t see it, can’t touch it, but it’s there all the same, preventing me from moving forward.

And then it starts. The compulsion that wants me to walk and the pain that comes from trying to resist it. There’s something inside me pushing, pulling,
dragging
me up the street, making me walk faster and faster. Part of me wants to grab on to a passing light post and just hold on for dear life, but somehow I don’t think that will work. Plus, it will make me look completely insane. And while this is Austin, a place where most people respect
others’ rights to be completely nuts at any given time, it’s probably better to keep a low profile. That way I have at least a chance of staying out of jail tonight.

As I stumble up the street, I try Donovan’s number again. No answer. Damn it.

The compulsion is getting heavier, but I’m still thinking this time and I’m smart enough to know I don’t want to do this alone. Not after what happened last time. Not ever again.

I call Lily, no answer. Shit, if I end up having to call the witch whisperer to get me out of this, I will never forgive myself. Or my mother.

I’d call Declan, but I left the card from Ryder at home. He might not be my first choice to get me out of this mess, but I know if anyone can help me, he can. Suddenly I remember those phone calls from him last night when I was tied to the bed. Maybe I don’t need his card after all.

Freaking out now because the compulsion is building—the electric current deep inside me getting more and more painful—I fumble through my phone to the call log and hit the most recent unknown number on it. According to the log, the call came in at seven eighteen last night.

“Hello?”

As soon as he picks up, I open my mouth to pour out the details of where I am and what’s happening to me. After all, I don’t know how long I’ll have before this thing takes me completely over. Except, right before I start babbling, it registers on me. The voice that answers isn’t Declan’s. It’s vaguely familiar and I know I’ve heard it before, but I can’t place it—especially since whoever is on the other end is either whispering or very hoarse.

Not that I’m at my best right now, anyway. I can barely think, barely breathe through the electricity rocketing through me.

“Who is this?” I demand. Not the most polite greeting I’ve ever given, but a whole new set of alarm bells just started shrieking in the back of my head.

“You don’t know? You’re the one who called me, sweetheart.”

“Sorry. I guess I have the wrong number.”

I know I don’t—this is the number that called me last night—but instincts I didn’t even know I had are warning me that something is very wrong about this guy. I know that he can’t hurt me, that he has no idea where I am right now, but that doesn’t matter. My whole body feels bruised and achy again, like every word this guy has said is somehow a physical weapon, striking out at me, battering me. Even worse, there’s an electricity deep inside me that shouldn’t be there. I don’t understand it, but it’s making me frantic.

Is this how he got me in my own home? How he chained me to my bed with only a spell—this electric connection we seem to have despite my best intentions?

Or am I just imagining things? Seeing the boogeyman around every corner because I’m freaking out over everything that’s happened.

Either way, I’m done with this guy. “I’m hanging up,” I tell him, pulling the phone away from my ear as I turn the corner onto South Congress.

“Xandra, wait.”

I freeze. Not a wrong number after all. I put the phone back up to my ear, but not before I press record. Everything inside me screams that this is it, this is him.

“Who is this?” I repeat. I’m running now, straight down Seventeenth Street without any understanding of what I’m doing or why I’m doing it. The streets are almost empty—everyone’s gone home to prepare for tonight, so there’s no one to look at me strangely as I sprint down the street in the platform heels I wore to celebrate
New Year’s. I’m not looking for Donovan or Declan anymore. I’m just following the invisible string that’s pulling me along.

“Are you almost there?”

“Almost where?”

“I think you’ll know when you see it.”

When I see
what
? I make the left turn onto Congress on the fly. I’m running flat out now, slowing only when I slip or slide on a puddle left over from last night’s rain. It will be a miracle if I don’t kill myself out here—or at the least, break an ankle.

“Are you the one who did that to me last night?” I demand.

“I have to admit, I was a little disappointed. I was sure you’d have freed yourself by the time I called. Such a disappointment you’re turning out to be.”

I laugh, though it isn’t a pleasant sound. “If you’re trying to get in my head, it’s going to take more than calling me a disappointment to do it, you sick fuck.”

“Now, now.” His voice is little more than a hiss now. “There’s no reason to get testy.”

“You nearly killed me.”

“You nearly killed yourself. You were perfectly safe until you set the room on fire.” He clucks his tongue. “What a mess you made.”

Chills run down my spine. How does he know that? How does he know that? He wasn’t there—I would have sensed him. And if I didn’t, surely Declan would have, right?

I skid to a stop at the end of Congress Avenue. I’m standing in front of the gates to the Texas State Capitol. It’s a huge building modeled after the U.S. Capitol—with one exception. It’s taller, because when they were building it, the Texas State legislators were determined that it be bigger and grander than the building where the U.S.
Congress meets. It was totally egotistical and totally Texas, and of course, they succeeded. To this day, it’s the tallest capitol building in the country.