Page 106 of His Hunted Witch

“Too late!” Buck shouted, his voice drenched in fear.

They ran for the front of the house and ducked into the foyer where Goldie had sprung her first trap so many weeks ago. Nathan didn’t know she was here, and they wanted to keep that secret as long as possible.

Carefully, she peered out the window next to the front door. A crowd of people marched toward the house, Nathan in front. She recognized a few including the twins, but she didn’t see Louis, which was one small mercy.

“Buck,” Aiden said from his crouch beside her. “Showtime.”

Buck swallowed hard, stepped up to the window, and pasted a grin on his face, trying to look like his old self. It didn’t really work. The bullet-proof swagger of youth was gone.

“Good morning, father!” he shouted.

She peeked through the window and watched relief and triumph flit across Nathan’s face.

“Show me the head,” Nate said formally.

Goldie swallowed, suddenly nauseous. “He wanted you decapitated?”

Aiden put a finger to his lips, and she winced. She’d forgotten about shifter hearing, but Nathan didn’t shout about hidden witches, so he probably hadn’t heard.

“I can’t lift it!” Buck said, panic spiraling his voice high.

She got a vision from Aiden’s wolf of a cringing puppy and petted Aiden’s shoulder.

“You can’t lift a head, boy?” Nathan asked.

“Not buying it,” she whispered.

Aiden didn’t react.

“Uh, nope!” Buck shouted.

“So be it,” Nathan said after a long silence. It sounded like a spell.

He started toward the house, and Buck shouted dramatically, “Dad, what are you doing?” He retreated from the window. “Dad, let’s talk about this!”

Buck acting like a panicked teenager—the second half of the plan—was a lot more convincing, and Nathan picked up speed.

Goldie tensed, but Aiden said, “Wait for it.”

“I’m waiting,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs.

“One more second…”

The moment Nathan’s weight hit the first step, Aiden surged. “Now!”

Buck dived forward to pull a rope that snaked out the window, which sent flour hurling down the front steps. Nathan shifted forms before it hit him, but his wolf was not fast enough to avoid a rain of white powder. The huge beast sneezed, even as he scrabbled up the stairs, and three wolves followed behind him.

“Light and sound and color be free, so mote it be,” she murmured as she wrote it in her mind. She could feel the way the spell went wrong, leaking energy in all directions and spiking in the color department, but this didn’t have to be accurate. The porch lit up with fireworks that had Buck shrieking as Aiden let loose with the garden hose from the side window, turning the flour into a paste, and coating the wolves’ fur. Nathan took another step, and a porch board they’d loosened last night went flying. The wolf staggered into a hole.

“Stinging bees, so mote it be,” Aiden shouted.

“More winter bees?” Goldie asked.

“Say it!”

“Stinging bees, so mote it be!” she shouted. “You can’t rhyme bee with be,” she muttered, even as her magic flowed effortlessly toward the wolves.

A wolf yipped from the back of the attack, and another snarled as he hit a porch board and launched into the air.

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