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Twisting the key in the ignition viciously, he started the van. He had to get out of here before he made another mistake.

Pulling out onto the street, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking back. It was all his fault. He’d never gotten along with Cilla and it pissed him off that she thought she could come and go as she pleased, visiting the Bumptown when everyone knew the witches owned Coventry. There wasn’t a single witch living in Colt’s Para community.

He liked it that way.

So when he saw Cilla strutting around like she owned the place? He couldn’t stop himself from throwing Maddox’s upcoming wedding in her face. In one afternoon, Maddox would be finally married and formally bonded. Cilla would never get a chance with him.

The next night, Maddox’s truck ran through a guardrail. Mere hours after a quick courthouse wedding, Maddox and Evangeline were on their way to the cabin for their honeymoon.

They never made it.

Colt was the first one called to the scene to check on Maddox. Law enforcement didn’t want to go through the Alpha of the pack, so Terrence was out. Colt was there to watch as Evangeline was rushed away in an ambulance and Maddox was strapped down in case she didn’t survive.

And he was there to pick up on the scent of baby powder that lingered on the mountaintop.

Magic.

The officials said it was an accident. A sudden rainstorm coupled with a pitted old guardrail and his brother’s tendency to speed. Even Colt believed it, second-guessing his nose.

Who knows? Maybe there really is another reason why he caught a whiff of baby powder on the breeze.

Colt spent three years trying to convince himself that his arrogant taunts toward Priscilla Winters had nothing to do with the crash that nearly killed Evangeline. Maddox was a shifter; he would’ve survived that and more. But Evangeline was human.

It was supposed to have been an accident. Nowadays? Colt wasn’t so sure.

Especially now that he was almost positive a witch had something to do with the state of his brother’s bond with his mate.

Was it a certain witch? Until he tracked down Cilla, he wouldn’t know for sure. He didn’t even try asking Luciana for help in that regards. A coven was almost as close-knit as a pack. They never turned on their own.

Hell.

Colt yawned again, trying to shake off his exhaustion. He blinked once, twice, keeping his attention on the road ahead of him.

When was the last time he slept? Between trying to keep up with orders, driving down to his father’s latest construction site to keep him from suspecting that something was up, and continuing his search for Cilla, he was more tired than he’d ever been before.

Sarah Wolfe, most likely acting on her mate’s tip, had called and offered to bring fresh meat to Colt’s house. It killed him to have to turn her down. One sniff and Sarah would know that Maddox had been around. As much as he disagreed with his brother’s insistence that they keep his parents out of it for now, he gave his word. It was one thing to shower Maddox’s scent off of him before heading out to see his father. There was no way he had the time to clean his house of any sign that Maddox had been living there.

Though, he thought snidely, maybe if Colt didn’t spend the only free time he had stalking some poor unsuspecting human, he’d be able to get a little housekeeping done.

Human.

Not a witch.

Too bad another of my kind has already got her hooks in you…

That thought had him jamming his lead foot on the gas pedal, swerving around some little old lady in her sedan. She surprised him by flipping him the bird.

He bared his teeth in the rearview mirror.

Tires squealed, the scent of burning rubber against asphalt seeping in through the gap in his window, stinging his nose. The little old lady took off, igniting Colt’s predator’s need to chase.

Just as he was about to slam his boot on the accelerator, speeding down the road after her, he felt a buzz against his hip. It was distracting enough that the sedan peeled away, disappearing down a side road while Colt slapped at his pocket.

It was his phone.

Pulling it out, he saw the number, cursed under his breath, then jerked on the wheel, parking the van in the first spot he could find. It was in front of a fire hydrant and he knew he couldn’t stay long. Better make this quick.

He answered with a grunt. “Yeah?”

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