Dominic couldn’t breathe. Spots swam in front of his eyes. Ottavio’s face was turning purple.
When he released them, they both staggered back, muscles cramping, gasping for breath.
Arturo’s voice battered them. “Ottavio. We don’t control our wolves mating bite. Dominic. Ottavio is speaking out of loyalty to me and concern for the pack. This matter is settled, what’s done is done. Let it go.”
They glanced at him, and then very reluctantly, at the same time, each inclined their heads to the side, exposing our throat. Under the circumstances, this meant they were calling a truce and apologizing. To appear submissive like this was excruciating for both of them; it shredded at their wolves and made them howl with pain and rage inside. Their beasts called for them to attack, to tear, to die before submitting. Arturo knew that, of course; it was part of their punishment.
He stood there glaring at them for what felt like a very long time to make sure that they got the point. Finally, he nodded, and they both raised their heads and took a step back.
His cold gaze swept over them.
“Both of you need to watch your backs. The Bianchi pack has it in for us. Put the word out.”
Dominic nodded, feeling a swell of frustration. This should be the time that he dedicated to Zoey. No matter what it took, he’d make sure that he had time for her over the next month. He needed to woo her, to convince her to come home with him. Sleep was over-rated.
Once he and Romano had left the room, he turned on his subordinate with a growl.
“You started going furry back there. Don’t,” Dominic bit out the words.
“Just didn’t like the way he was talking to you.” Romano shot a dirty look over his shoulder.
“You think I need you to fight my battles for me? You think I need you to make me look weak?”
A look of shock crossed Romano’s face, but vanished instantly.
“I know you have my back. I appreciate it,” Dominic said, tamping down on his temper. Now that his wolf had bitten Zoey, it wanted her by his side immediately. The memory of her sweet scent tantalized his nostrils, and flooded his brain with images of her soft, curvy body tangled up in his sheets. And in his arms.
Romano nodded, his face serious. “My wolf just reacts. That’s just how we’re wired.” Then he grimaced. “I didn’t mean it like…”
Romano was a born wolf. He was closer to his animal than Dominic ever would be. If Dominic had cubs –whenZoey gave him cubs – they’d be like Romano in that way. That was a good thing; made wolves were considered lesser by some, lower in prestige. He didn’t want that for his cubs.
“It’s fine,” Dominic shrugged. “I’ll be on edge until Zoey’s part of the pack.” Once a wolf had bitten its mate, it wanted her close at all times. His wolf knew that she hadn’t accepted Dominic’s claim yet, and it made the animal itchy and restless.
The fact that his wolf was taking to Zoey so easily soothed his conscience – a little.
A face from long ago swam in front of him, and he was ashamed because that faced had blurred with time and he couldn’t bring it back into focus.I tried to save you. I tried to die for you. It’s been so long. Is it wrong for me to want to feel something again?
Chapter Four
With a few hours of sleep under her belt, Zoey marched over to the apartment of her neighbor Danielle, a water witch and friend of hers. Danielle was on the neighborhood improvement committee with Zoey, and she worked the night shift at the utilities department, getting home at 7 a.m. On a power scale of one to twenty, she was about a five. She could cause extremely small areas of rain or widespread mist. When she worked with a lot of other witches, their power was amplified, and they could summon a decent rain cloud. That ensured that the desert city always had water.
She didn’t like her job, which everyone had to hear about on a regular basis. And she was not a morning person. Her pre-noon crankiness matched Zoey’s cheerfulness in equal measure.
“Too early,” Danielle groaned, standing in the doorway in her pajamas. “Go away, Satan’s alarm clock.”
“Ooh, good one. But it’s 3 in the afternoon. We have to talk about Monday’s meeting. Stewart and Andrea and Lorenzo are meeting us at Mary’s. I will coffee you until you’re human again.” Danielle and Zoey were part of an informal “neighborhood improvement committee”, and the local business owners and community leaders had agreed to meet with them on Monday to talk about the garbage problem.
“Fiiiiine. Give me five minutes to get dressed, horrible wench-face,” Danielle mumbled, and Zoey waited at the door until Danielle returned wearing jeans, calf-high boots, and a light blue sweater. She grumbled all the way to Mary’s Diner, so Zoey kept up a line of cheerful patter about the lovely weather, just to annoy her.
As they rounded the corner, they saw the other members of the committee standing there waiting for them – Stewart and Andrea. Andrea’s teenaged son Lorenzo was with them, tall, skinny, and sullen, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Stewart was a carpenter who owned a small shop down the block from Zoey’s apartment building. His white mop of hair and round gold-rimmed glasses made him look older than his fifty-something years. Andrea, a gawky brunette in her forties, was a graphic designer. She’d moved with her son to Encantado when it was discovered that Lorenzo was a fire wizard with just enough power to light candles. Her husband had reacted differently – he’d promptly filed for divorce.
They were all standing in front of Mary’s Meetinghouse – staring in dismay.
The windows were boarded up, the magical anti-burglar runes that had been painted over the doorway were no longer glowing, and there was a “closed for business” sign painted on the front door.
“Seriously,” Danielle said, staring at the shop. “This can’t be, and yet it is. You know what fuels my perky Pollyanna personality?”
Zoey gave her a sidelong glance. “Say what, now?” She looked at Andrea. “Have I missed something?”
