Self-consciously, he ran a paw over his right ear, where a notch was missing from a long ago fight, as if to assure himself that the ear still remained attached. Spots of fur were still missing, battle scars he’d obtained over the years, the cat a scrapper in his youth. Over the last few weeks, his bent and twisted whiskers were now strong, his coat of fur thick and shiny from all the meals he’d managed to swipe.
“Stanley?” Morgan lowered her weapons in confusion. “I thought you were staying at the Academy for a while.”
He snorted, an evil glint in his eyes when he huffed at her. “And let the mangy mutts try and take over my coven without me here to supervise?” He stalked across the room, his tail full of swagger. For such a large cat, he still remained light on his feet as he seethed and mumbled under his breath. “That leprechaun better not have touched my things.”
He disappeared out the door, everyone staring after him without moving.
The mirror rippled again, drawing her attention, and she stiffened, not liking surprises.
A boot pierced the surface of the mirror, followed by a leg.
Male.
She tightened her grip around her weapons, but only when a familiar face began to take shape did she lower them in complete confusion. “MacGregor?”
The scent of old leather and metal reached her just seconds before he emerged fully from the portal. MacGregor was a term of endearment and respect since he’d retired from running his own coven a few months ago. She doubted that anyone even remembered the old man’s real name.
He’d rescued her as a child when she had no place else to go, and trained her as an assassin. The burly warrior was well past his prime, reminding her of a gnarled old grizzly, and just as fierce. His silver hair was wild as a shaggy sheepdog, his faded blue eyes sharp as ever as he raked her from head to toe, intelligence and cunning gleaming back at her.
Though he kept in better shape than most people half his age, a number of scars knotted and twisted his body, a true testament to his abilities. Since he’d retired, there was a softness to him now…like a weight had been lifted from his shoulder.
And it was all because of the person who stepped through the mirror next.
MacGregor turned, held out his hand, and Mistress McKay gave him a soft smile as the liquid in the mirror peeled away from her. Her silver eyes were soft as she gazed down at the old warrior. The dour expression that was normally etched on her face had vanished, leaving her with an almost youthful appearance.
Her light brown hair was no longer scraped back but loosely tied at the base of her neck…as if she just had a tryst with some rascally fellow. Though she was an itty-bitty thing, barely reaching Morgan’s shoulders, sharp intelligence gleamed in her eyes, one that warned she didn’t suffer fools gladly.
They were the perfect match.
And after thirty years, they were finally giving their relationship a chance.
The metal of her blades melted down, swirling back up her arms to form back into jewelry, and she put her hands on her hips as she stared down at them. “What are the two of you doing here? I thought you were going on vacation.”
“Bah.” MacGregor waved a hand, as if to brush away her words. “Vacations are boring.”
He gallantly slipped Mistress McKay’s hand into the crook of his elbow, patting it before covering it with his own. Then his sharp, blue eyes landed on her and her men before narrowing. “Besides, I hear you got into a bit of trouble over break. We’ve come to help you settle into the coven.”
How in the world could they’ve learned about everything so quickly?
She heaved a sigh and looked at the mirror behind them, giving him a reproachful look. “You’ve been spying on us.”
She hadn’t even been aware the mirror had been active.
“Now, now, don’t get your knickers in a twist, girl.” He waggled a finger at her like she was the one who had done something outrageous. “You were just assigned the coven. You have a lot to do to get this place up and running in a week.”
The guys relaxed when they realized they weren’t under attack. Kincade even went so far as to smile as she and MacGregor bickered back and forth, then the humor fell away and he straightened at the old man’s warning. “Why a week?”
“Congratulations on your graduation.” Pride shone from Mistress MacKay as she took in the group. She reached forward, squeezing Morgan’s arm, and a rush of pleasure swirled through her at the praise. “I always knew you could do it.”
MacKay was one of the few teachers that had believed in her, and her approval meant a lot. Even the guys straightened under her approval. The witch pursed her lips, glancing around the room, already cataloging what needed to be done. “The covens are being stressed with the influx of paranormal creatures coming through the rifts. While they would love to give you more time to adjust, that’s just not possible.”
She pointed at Draven and Ryder. “We left our bags for youto collect. The portal will remain open for twenty minutes. That should give you more than enough time.”
Both men nodded, but Ryder looked a little green, the shifter not a fan of portals. Without a word of protest, both stepped through the mirror.
“Ascher and Atlas…” Kincade dipped his chin at the two. “Unload the truck. I want us all settled in before night falls.”
The door barely closed behind them when MacGregor turned and faced Caedmon, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the man, taking his measure. Morgan quickly took her cue and introduced them, explaining how they’d met.
