Wolfsbane: Aspect of the Wolf (12 page)

Emilie felt a surge of panic. “Do you think—?"

"I mean for someone else. Now, don't forget—you have to be looking at each other when you drink it, like a toast."

"Cheers.” Emilie slid the two potion bottles into her purse. She gave Charlotte a half-hearted wave and headed for the door.

"Are you going to finish that spreadsheet or are you going to look out the window all day?” Daniel asked shortly after 3:00 PM.

Vance let go of the curtain and rose from his chair. “I'm going for a walk."

Before Daniel could protest, he saw her through the window. Emilie stood on the front stoop, looking uncertain. Vance cast him a questioning glance when she knocked.

Daniel's first instinct was to shove his brother out the door and sweep everything off the nearest desk. Then he'd drag Emilie inside and—

"Maybe you should stay."

He moved past Vance and opened the door.

Emilie bolted inside, rummaging through her purse and babbling about herbs and incantations. He barely heard a word. The wolf awoke the moment she passed him, and suddenly, he couldn't think straight.

He tried to focus on her words as she handed him a bottle of blood red liquid. “What's this?"

"A calming potion. It should counter the ... effects we've been experiencing."

"That was fast.” Why did he feel disappointment? Aside from the overwhelming desire to have his way with her, he felt great—strong, confident, invincible. He didn't want to calm down. The logical part of his brain vaguely recalled that, in psychology, they called feelings like his “mania.”
Great, now I'm a maniac!

He uncorked his bottle and Emilie put her hand on his arm. The touch galvanized him. He wanted
her
, not some magickal sleeping pill.

"Wait,” she said. “We have to drink it at the same time. All of it."

Vance eyed the bottles. “Does this come in aerosol form? A calming potion could be very useful for a few of my clients."

"It's meant to counter the effects of a spell,” Emilie replied in a patient voice. “It won't work on non-magickal excitement."

"Too bad."

Daniel gave his brother a dark look. Emilie opened her bottle and tapped it against his. “Cheers,” she said.

They both drank. Daniel gasped as the last of it burned its way down his throat. The stuff tasted like Sambuca and had about the same kick as the anise-flavored liqueur. “Packs a wallop,” he said when he regained his voice.

Emilie coughed and fanned her suddenly pink cheeks. “Charlotte's recipe. How do you feel?"

"Okay.” In truth, he felt no different. His body still vibrated with the same unmet need he'd battled all day. If anything, Emilie's presence had increased his agitation and the kick in the gut delivered by the potion only intensified his desires. “How do
you
feel?"

"I guess I feel fine.” She kept her eyes averted.

"How long does it take to work?"

"It should work immediately."

"Good."

Vance walked in a slow circle around them. “You both look the same."

"That's actually a good sign, Vance,” Emilie said.

"Oh, so nobody gets to turn blue this time?” The sarcasm in his brother's voice struck a chord with Daniel. He laughed.

Emilie did, too, then headed for the door. “I'd better get back to the shop."

"You're leaving?” Daniel followed her a few steps, wishing he could lock her in and keep her with him all night.

"It's probably better that way."

"Right."

"Call me if you feel any—side effects."

"You, too. Bye.” Daniel sighed and leaned on the door when it closed behind her.

"You don't look calm,” Vance said, crossing his arms over his chest. “In fact, I've never seen you wound so tight."

"I'm fine."

"If you want her—"

"It's the spell,” Daniel growled, returning to his desk. “It's just a side effect and the potion will make it go away."

"It doesn't look like it's going away."

"It is. I said I'm fine.” Daniel focused his attention on his computer screen. “Let's get back to work. It's the best thing for both of us right now."

At midnight, Emilie decided that pretending to sleep was a waste of time. Bored and restless, she rose and paced around her bedroom for a while. Then she dressed and left the apartment, careful not to wake Charlotte, who slept curled under a nest of quilts on the couch.

The shop was her destination. She planned to make candles, brew up some luck charms and put a batch of orange slices in the dehydrator for her new “citrus happiness” potpourri.

Her hands shook as she fit the key into the lock on the shop's front door. She thought of the third bottle of calming potion and wondered if an extra kick might be what she needed to shake free of this incomplete feeling. One more night unable to get Daniel out of her thoughts and she'd go insane.

The moment she stepped over the threshold, she heard it. A low, throaty rumble drifted from the far side of the rack of altar cloths.

"Daniel?” Had he come for her? Immediately, the she-wolf awoke, intrigued by the thought that her mate had come to claim her. Her body tensed and warmed for him, and she forgot to be afraid. “Where are you?"

A snarl and a swipe of claws answered her.

Emilie screamed. She reared back, instinctively dropping into a crouch.

A dark shape leapt at her, bowling her over onto the floor. The werewolf rose above her, its yellow eyes aglow in the dim light from the outside street lamp. It growled and snapped its jaws at her, and Emilie kicked viciously when it pulled her under its body. The creature raised one clawed hand high above her head, and Emilie vaguely registered an object clutched in the gnarled fist.

She thought of Daniel before the weapon smashed into her skull.

"Rough night?” Vance asked when Daniel lumbered down the stairs the next morning. He felt like a truck had run him over a few dozen times.

"Couldn't sleep. Coffee?"

"Looks like you could use a bucketful.” Vance poured him a full mug.

Daniel gulped the bitter brew. “I hope Emilie doesn't feel this bad,” he muttered.

Vance rummaged through the nearest cabinet. “Aspirin?"

A vicious pounding on the front door assaulted Daniel's head like a jackhammer. He cringed and rubbed his throbbing temples while Vance went to answer it.

A moment later, a redheaded whirlwind flew into the kitchen. When Daniel looked up from his coffee, he found Charlotte Swanson glowering at him.

"This time it's
real
blood,” she said, forcing the words out through her rage. “And the whole store is trashed. Emilie is going to freak! I don't even want to tell her."

Daniel looked past Charlotte, figuring the cousins had arrived together to blame him for another act of vandalism. “Where is she?"

"What do you mean?” Charlotte's freckled face blanched. She looked on the verge of panic. “I thought she was with
you
. She snuck out around midnight when she thought I was asleep. I figured she'd come here to—"

"We both drank the calming potion. Why would she—?"

"Because she's in
love
with you, idiot. The calming potion isn't going to cure that."

Daniel's mind skipped past Charlotte's confession. If Emilie wasn't with her, and she wasn't here...

Cold fear gripped him. “Where would she have gone?” The wolf awoke. His mate was in danger. He realized
that
explained why he felt the way he did. Emilie was in pain, tired, shaky and cold. He had to find her.

Behind Charlotte, Vance grabbed the phone. “You said the blood was real this time?"

Charlotte gasped. “Oh, my God!"

"I'm calling the police. You two get back to the shop and don't disturb anything."

Daniel jammed his feet into his sneakers and paused long enough to grab his car keys from the kitchen counter. Charlotte trailed him out the front door, whispering an incantation as they raced toward his car.

"Water of the oceans, fire of the sun

Help us find the missing one,

Guide our hand, steer our sight,

Help to set the world to right."

The words ran together in Daniel's mind, and rage clouded his vision. Someone had touched his mate, hurt her and tried to take her from him. No potion would calm him now. He wouldn't stop until he got her back and exacted his revenge.

The world faded back into view in shades of green and brown. Emilie smelled honeysuckle and fresh earth. Above her, birds chirped with maddening cheer, and insects buzzed. “What the hell?"

"Good. You're awake. I was getting tired of listening to you snore."

Emilie craned her neck toward the oddly familiar voice. The movement set her nerve endings on fire. Every muscle in her body ached, and her head pounded relentlessly. When she tried to reach up and keep it from tumbling off her shoulders, she found her hands tied behind her back. The tight bindings had cut off circulation. Her fingers felt like tingly sausages dangling uselessly from her hands.

Propped against a tree, her feet also secured with a thick length of clothesline, she was completely at the mercy of her captor, who sauntered into view. Through a tangle of sassy blonde curls, the petite woman regarded Emilie and gave her a deceptively sweet smile.

"Bethany?"

"That's right.” The woman sat on the ground cross-legged in front of Emilie and shrugged. “The
former
‘future Mrs. Vance Garrison,’ thanks to your meddling."

"Huh? Oh...” Bethany the Psychopath? It just didn't seem to fit. “Don't you think breaking up with him was a bit hasty?” Emilie squirmed against her bonds. She found no play in the ropes, and the movement only made her arms and legs hurt more. “After all, we were only trying to spare you from having to plan your wedding around the full moon."

Bethany's sunny smile faded. Her blue eyes hardened. “Stupid bitch. I didn't dump Vance because he was a werewolf. I dumped him because you
cured
him. Do you know how rare it is to find a mate like that—aspect of the wolf in his blood twice—once by birth, once by bite? Just like me."

Emilie gaped. “You?"

Beth seemed to preen a little, obviously proud of her unusual heritage. “I'm an Alpha female. Vance and I would have led our own pack. Together we'd have produced full-blood offspring, every one a born Alpha. Now I have to go crawling back to my leader and beg for my place in the pack, thanks to you,
witch
."

Tugging on the ropes behind her back, Emilie winced. “You don't look like an Alpha female. You're so—"

"Don't say short!"

"Okay, petite."

"I can rip out your throat with my bare hands. Is that Alpha enough for you?” Bethany surged forward, bearing her teeth in a fangless snarl.

Despite herself, Emilie shrank back. “Did I mention that I love your hair? Your highlights are just gorgeous. Are they natural—"

"Shut up!” She settled back, unimpressed by the fake flattery.

Emilie clamped her lips shut and focused on her surroundings. Sunlight filtered through thick branches above, and in every direction, she saw only row upon row of dark tree trunks and mossy rocks. Though they might have been anywhere in the world, Emilie decided the nearest place to Cypress Park that fit the description was the State Forest about two hours to the north.

As she looked around, she noticed dried blood on her left ankle. “You didn't bite me, did you?"

Bethany laughed. “I wanted to. But you're a gift to my pack leader. He'll bite you—that is, if he wants to
keep
you. My bet is he'll probably just eat you."

"Bitten or eaten. I'm really not sure which I'd prefer.” Emilie struggled a little more and wracked her brain for a quick spell that might loosen the bonds. Nothing came to mind. “You know, Vance would probably still make a good husband. Being one quarter wolf and all—you guys could probably have lots of slightly furry babies."

"If it wasn't for big brother, we might have mated already. Then it wouldn't matter if you cured him. I'd at least have one litter from him. But of course, Daniel had to interfere, keeping Vance on a tight leash every time he transformed, so we never got to mate in wolf form. I couldn't risk getting Daniel out of the way too soon, but as soon as the wedding was over ... now that's all screwed up."

"If you don't mind my saying, maybe if you'd told him you didn't mind the werewolf stuff, he'd have—"

"Shut up!” Beth growled. This time, her incisors grew longer. A half-blood, bitten by a werewolf, could probably transform at will. That wasn't a theory Emilie wanted to test. “You killed the were in him. You ripped it out of him and let it die. I'm going to enjoy watching my pack leader tear you apart."

"Can't we come to some kind of compromise? Maybe if you talked to him, Vance would let you bite him again"

Bethany rose and towered over Emilie, all five feet of her, casting a menacing shadow. She slapped Emilie hard, then kicked her wounded ankle for good measure. “Don't you think I know he can't be reinfected? He's useless to me now. But Daniel ... he's still a possibility.” Bethany smiled wickedly. “Maybe I can turn him tonight. Then he can join in the fun when my pack strips the flesh off your bones. I bet he'd like that."

"I think he's vegetarian."

Bethany kicked Emilie again and laughed. “He won't be when I'm done with him."

"Werewolf,” Charlotte said. She looked at Daniel through the strands of spiky hair she'd found on the floor of the shop and hidden from the police while they searched the place for clues.

Cypress Park's finest had ascertained that the smear of blood on the floor near the front door was human. That evidence meant they had to treat the case as an assault and kidnapping.

Yellow crime-scene tape stretched across the front door, and a chalk mark outlined the bloodstain that marred a newly refinished section of floor.

"It wasn't me,” Vance said. “I was with Daniel all night and I didn't transform."

"I know my spell worked,” Charlotte countered with a disparaging glare.