Page 12 of Sight of Fate

Surprised, I glance at Teague. I’m guessing he didn’t tell her there’s a helipad or that some, like him, don’t need a vehicle and can fly out or shift and take the mountain path.

“Correct,” he replies slowly, his brow furrowing. “Although we could always get a helicopter or plow the pass if we needed to. Why?”

Her eyes drift to me. “Is it still supposed to snow this weekend?”

“Elijah says it will,” I tell her, then realize she doesn’t know him. “He’s the uh…local weather expert. If he says it’s going to snow, it will. I don’t know if it will be enough to close the pass, though.”

Fear flashes across her expression, and I realize she’s afraid of someone finding her. In response, I pick up the phone and dial Elijah. When he answers, I ask him when he thinks we’ll get enough snow to close the pass.

Elijah’s silent for a moment. “Couple of feet this weekend. More next week. Why?”

“Thanks. Just making plans. I’ll get back to you,” I tell him, then hang up. “Within the week.”

Teague exchanges a loaded glance with me, and I nod. Maybe there’s something we can do to make sure the pass closes this weekend. Elijah’s an Elemental with an affinity for water, and I know he’d be happy to manipulate the weather and bring in more snow.

He moves to the window and motions her over. “See that building over there? The four-story glass one? That’s where we’ll be working. I thought having something close to the office would be helpful. As I said on the phone, I don’t always work regular hours.”

Her shoulders relax, and she takes a seat on the couch, her palm gliding across the smooth fabric. “The apartment is beautiful. Are you sure I don’t have to pay rent?”

“Considering we own the building, it isn’t necessary,” I inform her, not wanting it to come from Teague, who’s overflowing with emotion right now. “In fact, we live down the hall. So, if you need anything, you can knock on our door.”

I’m watching the emotions flit across her face and realize she’s relieved to know we’re close by. That’s good. It means she’s not afraid of us. But she’s definitely scared of someone. I see Teague turn away, hands tightly clenched at the thought of someone after her. We need to know who it is sooner rather than later. Because after waiting this long for his mate, there’s no way in hell we’re going to let anyone take her from him.

“Now, why don’t we help you unload your car and bring your stuff up?” Teague jumps in, his voice gruff with underlying anger.

She pastes on a bright smile that doesn’t reach her worried green eyes. “There’s not much in the car. Nothing heavy. I can get it.”

His chin lifts, and I see him grinding his teeth, but after one sharp look from me, he concedes. Grabbing a pen and paper off the desk, he jots something down, then hands it to me. “You have my number, but here’s Macklin’s too.” He waits until she adds mine, then pulls out his phone. “Do you mind if I send him your number?”

She shakes her head and a second later my phone pings with her contact info.

He hands her the keys to the apartment. “We’ll leave you to it. Tomorrow’s Friday. Why don’t you come into the office and get the paperwork started, so you can jump in first thing Monday? There’s a lot going on right now.”

She nods. “That sounds great. I’ll see you at eight?”

Without speaking, we leave and head straight down the hall. Four times the size of the apartment we just left, our place takes up the rest of this floor and the entire one above us. I move to the floor-to-ceiling windows to watch her unload the car. Teague stands beside me, cursing the entire time.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take her long. She really doesn’t have much, which breaks my heart. There’s something so fragile about her that I’m fighting the urge to step in and take care of everything. She’s Teague’s mate, I remind myself.

I walk over and pour a stiff tumbler of Irish whiskey, down it in one mouthful, then pour another for me and one for him.

“Now, tell me what the fuck is going on. Start from the beginning.”

Chapter Eight

MACKLIN

Teague strides to the bank of screens in the corner and flicks them on to watch until she’s safely in the apartment, then rubs a hand down his face. “This sure as hell didn’t go like I planned. I thought all I had to do was find her and there would be this instantaneous connection when the mate bond snapped into place. I don’t understand why it didn’t happen.” There’s a bewildered expression on his face I’ve never seen. To be fair, Teague’s a great strategist, but Charli isn’t a company.

Stunned, I stare at him. “You knew she was your mate. Before you met her.”

Sitting, he grabs the tumbler I poured him. “I did.” He takes a deep breath. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say.”

I tense.

“A few weeks ago, Raine Thompson came to me. She had a vision,” Teague begins. “Find my mate or lose her forever.” He takes a long drink. “So I did. A blood witch crafted the spell. Charli answered. When she called asking about a PA job, I knew it was her.”

“Mates are supposed to happen naturally, not forced with magic. What the hell were you thinking?” I murmur in a harsh tone, not wanting to say it too loudly. Teague’s taken some bold risks over the years, but this might test the Fates.