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Jaxon held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not judging you, Tori. I’m actually impressed by how resourceful and determined you are. You got that from your mother. She was always relentless when it came to protecting those she loved.”
His words caught me off guard, but there was no time to dwell on them. “Just tell me where to go,” I said, navigating through the unfamiliar streets of Toronto.
“Take a left here,” Jaxon directed, his eyes scanning the buildings around us.
As we drove, my thoughts drifted back to Ridge. The image of him so vulnerable, his feverish skin and pained whimpers, only fueled me.
“Right here,” Jaxon said, piercing through my anguish. I turned the corner. We couldn’t afford any mistakes. We had to find the witch and convince her.
Despite everything, the way Jaxon’s voice had carried a hint of fondness and wistfulness when he’d spoken of my mother made me curious. I filed away the urge to dig deeper into thatconversation for later as we pulled up to a weathered house. It certainly wasn’t what I had envisioned for a witch’s home, but then again, appearances could be deceiving.
“Is this it?” I asked, drumming my fingers on top of the steering wheel.
“Yes.” Jaxon looked tense as he scanned the front of the house. “We need to choose our words carefully.”
“Understood.” I tried to steady my nerves as we got out of the car, but with each beat of my heart reminding me that time was running out for Ridge, it took all my willpower not to run up and demand this woman’s attention.
Together, we approached the door. Jaxon knocked loudly, and we waited on the porch long enough that I began to worry we were too late, that the witch had moved or she’d simply refuse to help us. I clenched my fists, ready to plead, bargain, or fight if necessary.
I heard footsteps coming towards us from the other side of the door, and a second later, it swung open. A small, slight woman with highlighted brown hair stood in front of us. She wasn’t a stereotypical witch—no long black robes, broomstick, or wart on her nose. This witch wore a pair of blue jeans and a cowl-necked jumper. It was difficult to discern an age; she had one of those timeless qualities about her, but she was definitely a more mature lady.
“Jaxon Hyde.” The woman narrowed her eyes, her brow creasing. “I’d heard you were dead.”
“Not yet,” Jaxon said drily. “We need your help, Eleanor. It’s urgent.”
“What happened to your manners? You’re looking…different. Not sure I’m into the new look.” She cocked an eyebrow, her cunning gaze shifting to me. “Who might this be?”
“I’m Jaxon’s daughter, Tori,” I jumped in, surprising both myself and Jaxon. He turned to me, eyes shining. I’d justclaimed myself as his daughter. I couldn’t quite figure out how I felt saying it to a stranger for the first time, but it had felt like the right thing to do.
Later, when Ridge was better, I’d spend time considering my words. As it was, I was quivering with barely restrained emotion. “A vampire bit my mate. We need your help to save him. If he isn’t healed soon, he’s going to go feral and die. I’d really appreciate it if you came with us.”
The witch whistled, her gaze sweeping over me with newfound interest. “Well now, haven’t seen a female alpha in a while.” She smirked, crossing her arms. “As much as I woke up this morning hoping that a bossy wolf shifter would knock on my door making demands, I have no interest in expending my magic healing some wolf I’ve never met.”
I gritted my teeth. Time was running out for Ridge, and this woman seemed content to let him die. Before I could hurl an angry demand at her, Jaxon stepped forward, his voice calm and steady.
“Listen, Eleanor.” He locked eyes with her. “You owe me a favor. I once let you and your sister live freely on Everwood Pack lands while you were being hunted down. You promised to repay that favor someday. I’m looking for payment. Today.”
Eleanor’s eyes narrowed to slits as she studied Jaxon. The silence stretched on, each second an eternity, until finally, she groaned.
“Fine,” she muttered, throwing her hands up. “I’ll help.”
“Thank you,” I said, relief flooding through me.
We followed Eleanor inside, the heavy air of her home clinging to my skin like a shroud. It was dimly lit, and shadows flickered across the walls and floor as candle flames danced in the darkness.
She glanced between Jaxon and me. “Let’s get this over with.” She picked up a black bag and filled it with bottles. I didn’t even try to read the labels.
Clenched my hands into fists, I tried to keep my anger in check as she moved through the small, cluttered space. My nerves were frayed, every muscle tense as I fought to hold back tears.
“Sit,” Eleanor commanded, gesturing toward a worn wooden chair.
I obediently perched on the edge as she gathered various herbs and ingredients. Jaxon stood next to me, offering silent support and reassurance.
“Remember,” Eleanor declared sharply as she mixed a potion in a small, smoky glass vial, “I’m doing this for you, Jaxon. After this, we’re even. My debt to you is clear.”
Jaxon nodded, his gaze never wavering from mine.
I swallowed hard. Eleanor’s magic pressed down on me like a weighted blanket that threatened to suffocate me, but I refused to let it break me. Ridge needed me, and I would not fail him.
