The Wizard King (2 page)

He was going to regret that for the rest of his life.

“They can fucking wait.” Gen couldn’t. Not after what she’d done to save him from Davis Godwin. She’d somehow used her gifts as one of Hecate’s Own to combat the demonic energy Davis had hurled at him. It had been meant to kill Gareth, but instead Gen’s power flooded him, filled him with an ecstasy he’d never before encountered. As much as he’d tried to dismiss it as the touch of the divine, he, and his wolf, knew better.

It had been Gen’s touch, not the Goddess, that made him cream his jeans during combat. And he’d treated her like shit afterward, refusing to look at her because he’d been fucking embarrassed at his reaction to her. So she’d fled, and he’d let her, and now he was going to rectify the biggest mistake he had ever made.

He studied the table one last time. Everything looked correct. All of the runes were aligned properly within the circle. Both Chris and Daniel had gone over it with him three times just to make sure.

The incense was burning, its cinnamon scent filling the air. Chris had smiled when he smelled it. For both of them, that scent meant home, and everything it should be. The small fire in his cauldron burned merrily, ready for the slip of paper he’d be throwing into it after he recited the spell. Colored candles were lit and placed just so. Flower stems, a rose for love and an iris for wisdom, were braided through the Beckett emerald ring, waiting for him to begin the chant. Every item held a piece of the spell, the same spell every Beckett male had cast for centuries.

The spell that would bring his brave little warlock home once and for all. And if she thought she was ever leaving again, she had another thing coming.

“Ready?”

Gareth Beckett nodded. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for ever since Genevieve Godwin had disappeared from his life and ripped his soul in two, taking the better part of him with her.

“Be careful, bro.” Zach, usually so happy-go-lucky, was dead serious. “You cast this spell with a specific person in mind, and you’re in danger of turning it into a love spell. None of us want that. Karma can be a real bitch.”

He didn’t need Zach’s warning. Casting a love spell on a specific person was just inviting the karma police to come and put the smack-down on your ass. The resulting spell could drive the lover into an insane stalker, turn the wizard into someone unable to love at all, or cause the would-be lover to both love and hate the wizard until one of them wound up dead. It wasn’t something he ever wanted to do to his sweet Gen. “Shut it, butt munch. I’ve preparing this spell for how long?”

“Long enough for me to get a cramp in my tailbone.” Daniel, the next-to-youngest brother, was sprawled in a chair in Gareth’s study, tossing M&M’S into the air and catching them with his mouth. “Can we go already?”

Zach flicked a finger, and the M&M’S scattered.

God. It was like wizard daycare. “Don’t make me come over there.”

“He started it.” Daniel stuck his tongue out at Zach.

“He started it first.” Zach stuck his right back out.

“I don’t care who started it, I will end it.” Gareth glared at both his little brothers, but they ignored him.

“You took my M&M’S.” Zach reached with his fingers, the candy dancing away from Daniel.

“You weren’t sharing, asshole.” Daniel threw the bowl at Zach.

Zach ducked. “Butt munch.”

“That’s it. I’m calling Mom.” Gareth tugged his cell phone out of his pants, smiling to himself when his idiot brothers raced from the room.

God and Goddess, let them raid the fridge or something, anything, so long as they stayed the fuck out of his study. He loved them, but…

Yeah. Some days being the eldest sucked donkey balls.

He took a deep breath. He had to place himself in the right frame of mind necessary to cast the spell, or it really
would
turn into a love spell. If that happened, not only would Gareth be FUBAR, but so would Gen.

Nothing was ever hurting Gen again. Not even him. He was willing to promise on his wolf never to do anything to harm her if only she’d forgive him.

His hands shook as he closed the circle, barring anyone else from entering the room. This was it, one of the defining moments of his life. His ancestor’s spell would determine the course of the rest of his life.

It had better fucking pick the only Godwin worth her father’s sperm.

He closed his eyes and tried to picture a generic female, one without those amazing eyes and shining blonde hair. One who didn’t radiate power and innocence in equal measure. One whose sweet, generous soul had brushed against his own and left it raw and bleeding when she disappeared.

Shit.

No. If this was going to work, he had to think in general terms, or the karmic backlash of the Law of Three would destroy them both. For him, as a wizard, it would be bad. For a warlock, and one of the Goddess’s Own, it would be… He couldn’t even begin to imagine it. The power an Own held was tremendous. Driving an Own insane with a love spell?

He shuddered.

Instead, he concentrated on all of the things he desired in a mate. Sweet to his dark, soft where he was hard. A woman who would smooth his rough edges, help him navigate the shark-infested waters of the wizard court. A woman who understood his nature was both human and not, someone who accepted the wolf within him.

Someone who made his heart beat faster with just a smile.

Someone he could picture rocking his future children to sleep.

He could feel the power building within him. He’d written down his wishes in red ink, the color of passion, ready to be burned in the cauldron. He knew the exact moment when the spell’s tension had reached the breaking point, when he either had to make a move or stop, wait and recast another time when the stars were properly aligned.

Gareth was done with waiting. If he didn’t cast the spell now, call Ge—his mate, to him today, he was terrified he’d lose her forever.

That was unacceptable.

Gareth reached into the pocket of his purple silk robe and pulled out a wand crafted especially for this ritual, and smiled. He’d made his wand of apple wood, knowing it was a wood associated with love. Zach would probably shit a brick if he saw it, but Gareth didn’t care. For the first time ever, Gareth was casting a spell just as much with his heart as his head.

He would love his mate. Hell, if he was right about who it would be, he already did.

He slipped the sheet into the flames, watching it catch fire before dropping it into the cauldron. Raising his arms high, he began his chant. As the paper burned, he concentrated with every ounce of will he had.

“I call on forces higher than I,

To awaken the dreams that I hold inside.

Venus, grant me the love I lack;

With this spell my mate attract.

This candle for her,

This candle for me.

When they touch,

United we’ll be.

Kindle the love,

Kindle the flame,

When we meet, she’ll know my name.

By the power of earth and fire,

Bring unto me my heart’s desire.

By the power of air and sea,

As I will so mote it be.”

As he chanted, two candles, both red, one carved with the symbol for female, the other marked with the symbol for male and bearing a lock of his hair, shifted slightly toward one another.

Gareth almost sagged with relief.

The ritual was working. Now all Gareth had to do was sit back and wait for his warlock mate to come home.

He could hardly fucking wait.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Genevieve Godwin did her best to hide her grimace. She couldn’t let the mundane know how deeply frightened she truly was. Hunting Hugh for the last three months had been exhausting, and she was beginning to run out of options. But what else could she do? Her family needed to be stopped before anything else occurred. She couldn’t allow them to hurt the Becketts, not even if it meant her own life.

Deep golden eyes, the color of warmed honey, filled her mind’s eye.

No. She couldn’t allow the Godwins to cause the Becketts any further harm, and not just because most of them had accepted her with open arms. She strapped the gun to her hip, shivering at the familiar weight of it. She prayed she wouldn’t have to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared. Most magics would expect just that: magic. Bringing the gun was a security most wouldn’t think of. “Yes, I believe so.”

“Hmm.” Kerry Andrews leaned back and eyed Gen, her expression filled with misgiving. “It might be me, but the Beckett boys don’t seem like the type to forgive a woman for putting herself in harm’s way for them.” Kerry shrugged. “Which makes me like this plan a little bit more, but still. You’re absolutely, positively sure this is the right thing to do?”

“What would you like me to do, Kerry?” Gen shrugged on her typical tweed jacket and hoped it would hide the bulge of the gun. “Zach just moved to Cleveland and is acclimating at the witch court, and the others are not Hecate’s Own. My brothers would eviscerate them on sight.”

“And Gareth?”

Gen shot the human an unfriendly look. “And Daniel?”

Kerry sighed. “Touché.”

“It’s a sad state of affairs when the man you are in love with wishes to salt the ground you walk on.”

Kerry scowled. “I am
not
in love with Daniel.”

“Of course not. And I don’t love Gareth.” And maybe if she kept telling herself that, the overwhelming sense of loss would eventually disappear. Thank the Goddess she wasn’t a witch, or her emotional state would seriously interfere with her spell casting. The more emotional the witch, the stronger and more unstable their spells became. A warlock like Gen pulled on power outside themselves. Emotion, while a strong motivator, did not factor into their spells. Only the strength of the outside source and the warlock’s own willpower defined how strongly they cast.

Gen picked up her practical beige purse and slung it over her shoulder. “How do I look?”

Kerry tilted her head. “Uptight.”

Gen smothered the hurt that filled her at the familiar taunt. She
wanted
to look uptight, at least today. She was going to meet someone who was the very definition of uptight and would not appreciate a casual appearance. Gen’s expensive tweed jacket, simple silk blouse, tan slacks and beige pumps would fit right in where she was headed.

The gun was a simple precaution, because her contact was not only uptight, but cold as well. This could very well turn into a battle royale rather than a social tea.

“If Lana finds out I’ve been helping you I’m in deep shit.”

Gen, her thoughts on her destination rather than her companion, was startled. “Why?” When last she’d seen the Evans witch, she’d been happy that her family was alive and safe. Gen hadn’t gotten the impression that Lana blamed Gen for any of it.

She didn’t have to. Gen blamed herself.

“For keeping it secret.” Kerry and Lana were best friends. The very human Kerry had gotten a serious education on the magical world when she’d been kidnapped and nearly killed by members of Gen’s family, but like Lana, she didn’t blame Gen. It was one of the reasons she’d agreed to help Gen, to give her a safe place to rest when she wasn’t hunting. But she didn’t like putting Kerry in the position of lying to Lana, never mind that Kerry was the one who’d decided to keep quiet about her aid.

It wasn’t like Gen could go home, though. Hugh and Arthur had seen to that. And going to the Becketts was out of the question. As long as Gen hunted Hugh and Arthur, they were safe.

She hoped.

Kerry had offered to take her in when she had shown up on her doorstep with no place else to go. Something about the nonmagical Kerry made Gen want to protect her and watch over her. The fact that she’d managed to survive their attack would make Hugh, especially, want to take her again.

Gen couldn’t allow that, so living with Kerry, protecting her in person, was the perfect solution. She got a place to stay, and Kerry had the magic of an Own to defend her. It was win-win.

To keep Kerry safe, Gen had done everything she could think of to protect the very unmagical Kerry from attacks. She’d shielded Kerry’s home, her car, her place of work, given her additional protection amulets on top of what Annabelle Evans had done for her… There was nothing she could think of that could protect Kerry more in Gen’s absence. But she still planned on returning as quickly as possible. There was no telling what Hugh and Arthur would do if they knew she’d left Kerry alone for longer than a day or two.

And if Kerry got hurt because of Gen, Lana would truly never forgive her. Thank goodness Annabelle Evans, Lana’s grandmother and grande dame of the Philadelphia coven, had agreed to watch over Kerry whenever Gen had to go on the hunt. She wasn’t happy they were keeping things from her granddaughter, however, and let them know it whenever they spoke to her. “Maybe you should tell Lana.”

Kerry grunted her disagreement. “If I tell her, she tells Chris, and then guess who else hears about it?”