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Shit.
I didn’t want to think of Gabriel like that. I knew the ancestors had given him a purpose, but that didn’t mean we needed to get physical. And hedatedmymother.
“Hey, Cas,” he greeted me, boasting an adorable wolfish grin.
“Hey, babe,” Gyps called out, popping a cookie sheet into the oven and setting the timer. “That’s the last batch. I’ll be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”
I couldn’t deal with the chummy look they shared or the knowing smile that loitered on Gabriel’s face. “I’m taking a shower. Be ready to go when I come back down, Gyps.”
Gabriel’s expression dimmed a little when I ignored him, but I didn’t care. He could pretend to be hurt or disappointed all he wanted. I wasn’t going to be a replacement for my mother, and I still didn’t like that he kept secrets, even if he was a hunky Lycan with ripped abs and blue eyes that I could drown in.
The aroma of cinnamon and vanilla followed me upstairs as I hopped in the shower. Under the warm spray, I relaxed, letting the steamy water hit my upper back and shoulders. The recent altercations with the dark witch added tension to an otherwise fantastic start to Samhain.
But the witch wasn’t the only issue.
Why did Gabriel, Damian, and Ryder show up in Mystic Hallows at the same time? Did it have something to do with Samhain? That seemed unlikely. Immortals cared nothing for our annual witchy celebration.
“Cassie?” Gabriel perched on the edge of my bed when I exited the bathroom. His eyes roamed over every curve of my body and lingered on the top of the plush white towel tucked in above my breasts.
Startled, he caught me off guard. “Gabriel? What are you doing in here?”
He opened his mouth to say something but lifted his nose in the air instead, snapping his jaw shut. A disgusted expression appeared on his face. “What’s that awful smell?”
Huh?
Confused, I watched Gabriel drop to his knees, his nose pressed close to the carpet. “Stay put, Cas.” He moved slowly forward until he stopped at the foot of my bed. A low rumble filled the air before he let out a loud, angry growl that rattled my windows. The intense vibrations caused the fine hairs on my skin to rise. “Don’t leave this room!”
I jumped slightly in response to his curt words and backed up against the far wall. “Gabriel?”
He slippedundermy bed and disappeared partially. His fine ass, molded by the material of his jeans, drew my attention.Stop it; I scolded myself.Don’t stare at the sexy wolf’s butt.I blinked, forcing my thoughts to remain indifferent.
What the hell was he doing?
Gabriel muttered a curse. “A hex bag,” he warned, his voice muffled. “Don’t move.”
A hex bag? Voodoo?
Gabriel slid out from under the bed and held up the little string-tied hemp bag with his shirt; his bare skin kept from coming in contact with the bag or its contents.
The man was a Houdini. He somehow managed to take off his shirt while he was under the bed, wrap it around his hand, and back out without touching anything.
He stood in front of me triumphantly, holding the hex bag up like he brought me a fresh kill for my approval.Lycan. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Cassandra, sweetheart, you’re in danger.”
Well, no shit. I was familiar with Voodoo. I didn’t practice it, but witches were always schooled in all forms of magic–light, and dark. As part of our training and heritage, we learned about magical energies and how to harness them. Spells were passed down, usually from a family grimoire, although no one had used one for nearly a century. My magic came from genetics and what I learned, taught to each new generation by elders like my mother and Aunt Gwen. The Howe family were powerful witches with a specialty in divination.
Unlike some who specialized in charms or incantations, we memorized our spells and chants and spoke them into being—a crucial aspect of survival and protecting the veil. Witches kept the balance.
In Mystic Hallows, it was our sole purpose, but each of the thirteen carried a unique specialty in their coven.
“I know.”
“We need to talk.” Gabriel squared his shoulders, gripping the hex bag tighter in his fist.
“Yeah, we do,” I agreed. “Why did you come here? It wasn’t to visit Gwen. You didn’t know she was home the day we met.”
He sighed softly. “Look, I know we need to talk about that, but everything has changed. This hex bag has altered our approach. We can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”
