A Magical Shift: A Hot Paranormal Fantasy Saga with Witches, Werewolves, and Werebears (Weres and Witches of Silver Lake Book 1) (9 page)

His lips firmed, acting as if she’d done something wrong. “Fuck.” He looked at her. “Sorry.” While she was pleased he was taking her seriously, something else was going on that she needed to find out about.

Her gaze dropped to his gut then back again. “Rye, tell me what’s wrong.”

He placed a hand over his reddened skin. “It’s a long story. If you’re wondering why I didn’t call yesterday, it was because I ran into someone after I left your house.” He tapped his stomach. “Hence the wound.”

She sucked in a breath. “You wrecked your car? Is that why I didn’t see it in the driveway?”

“Yes, but that was afterward. Let me start from the beginning.” He continued to pace while he explained about the stranded motorist and then about the clawing and the stabbing. “I’d like to say I was some kind of hero in all this, but I believe in total honesty.” Rye then told her how he’d had to crawl on his hands and knees to reach his car, and instead of waiting for Connor to help him, he’d been so damned stubborn that he passed out behind the wheel and crashed.

“That’s terrible. Did you recognize your attacker?”

“No, but the man who attacked me had a Scottish accent. That’s why I asked you what he looked like.”

Her heart pounded. “Do you think it’s the same person?”

“It sure seems like it. I want to find him and make sure he never comes near you again.”

She clenched her fists. “The man only threatened me, but he never touched me. It’s not like you can ask the police to arrest him for talking trash.”

His brows furrowed. “He might have harmed you if you hadn’t stopped him, but you’re right. We can’t go to the police and tell them how you controlled him.”

“I know.” If the humans learned of her powers, there was no telling what might happen. Exposure was one of Izzy’s biggest fears. The rest of her family also had some abilities, but nothing as obvious as creating cyclones or parting the sea, though her dad could set a forest on fire. “If you didn’t get a good look at him, how can you be certain if he’s the same person?”

“From his reaction at seeing me alive. His voice will also let me know. Then I’ll teach him a lesson about messing with you.” The vehemence of his statement took her aback. Rye acted as if he really cared.

He threaded both hands through his dark, thick hair, and she lowered her gaze to his muscular pecs and flat abs, which distracted her to the max. “Let me take a look at your injuries.”

She stood, stepped over to him, and then turned him around. She lightly dragged her fingers down his back. “This looks painful.”

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I’m fine. Really.”

She didn’t believe him and stepped around to face him again. She ran a finger over the scar on his stomach, and heat from his skin caused a trail of hot desire to shoot up her spine. “This doesn’t look fine,” she said.

“It barely hurts. The red will be gone by tomorrow.”

She wasn’t as convinced. This close, Izzy studied the tattoo that banded his bicep. “What does this stand for? I get the wolf paw, but why a lightning bolt?”

He inhaled deeply as if to keep his voice even. “The bolt cutting through the tribal symbol stands for power, and the wolf’s paw is rather self-explanatory. It’s the same one on my back. My dad has had the face of the wolf on his arm since he became the Alpha.”

“What about the wolf claw on your shoulder?”

“The McKinnon’s have had both for generations. To be honest, I’ve never questioned it.” He held up his palms as if he’d had enough of her scrutiny for now. “Let me throw on a shirt and then we can go.”

He disappeared down the hall. It wasn’t just his protective nature that appealed to her, it was also that he treated her with respect. The fact that her body went into overdrive every time she was near him was an added bonus.

*

While she waited,
Izzy took a moment to look around. Rye’s house could use a woman’s touch that was for sure. The white walls and monochromatic furniture screamed practical and masculine. A few well-placed crystals here and there would do wonders for his health and liven up the space. As she dragged her gaze toward the kitchen, she halted. Before she could figure out why Missy’s crystals were here, Rye walked in all dressed in a tight black T-shirt totally distracting her.

Once she regained her equilibrium, she nodded to the candles. “Those look familiar.”

“They should,” he said matter-of-factly. “Connor asked Missy to come here and help with my healing. I needed the extra boost from her powers in my weakened state even though I was in wolf form. I have to say, she worked magic—literally.”

His rapid healing pleased her, but she was a bit miffed that Missy hadn’t told her about Rye’s injury. She and her sister would have a little chat later. “She never said anything about your injury or that she helped with your healing.”

“She’s a professional.”

He did have a point. Izzy and Rye left to check out her place. As she stepped outside, she took in her surroundings first before continuing on to her car. If this stalker could follow her from Scotland to Tennessee without her knowledge, he was one slippery bastard.

“Mind if I drive?” Rye asked.

Izzy swiveled around to face him. “I thought you said you wrecked your car.”

“I did.” He held out his hand, apparently for her keys.

“I’m a good driver.”

“I’m sure you are, but if I sense the shifter is near, I can react faster.”

That made sense, but the real reason was probably closer to the fact he needed to be in charge. There wasn’t time for a debate, however. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

For most of the short drive to her house, Rye said little. It was as if he was concocting a game plan in his mind.

“When we get there,” he finally said, “I want you to stay in the car and lock the doors.”

Now he’d gone too far. “I should be telling you that. If I had wanted to kill the man, I could have already. I just didn’t feel like answering questions about how I ended up with a body burned to a crisp in my back yard.”

A small smile lifted his lips. He then glanced over at her. “I think I should see a demonstration of what you can do.”

Her powers had grown to such a scale that she hadn’t even told her parents the extent of her abilities. Besides, her magic was highly personal, and she wasn’t willing to share it with anyone yet, let alone a man who she didn’t know all that well.

But you want to
know him better
said that little voice in her head.

Maybe
…

The problem was that while Rye appeared to be interested in her, like so many others before, he would eventually feel threatened by her powers and leave.

As Rye neared her house, her stomach churned. She really didn’t want to see the man again, yet she didn’t want him gone either.

“Is the garden in the back?” Rye asked.

“Yes,” she said as she pushed open her door and started to get out.

“Izzy, please?”

“Fine.” She didn’t want to see the jerk anyway.

Rye slid out his side of the car. “Lock the doors. If you see him, drive away.”

She’d never leave Rye to fend for himself, but she decided to keep quiet about that. “Ask him what he wants from me.”

“Oh, you can bet I will.”

He jogged toward the back of her house and then disappeared from sight. Her chest cramped in anticipation of what he might find. She appreciated that Rye wanted to protect her, but there was no need. She could handle whatever came her way.

Tapping her foot, she looked around, making sure that the nasty man wasn’t lurking somewhere, just waiting for her to return.

A few minutes later, Rye came back, his gaze continually searching the area. He climbed back in her car. “He’s gone, and there’s no sign of him anywhere.”

She leaned her head back. “Really? Did you peek inside the house and check behind the trees?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. You didn’t have to. You could sense he wasn’t there.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you think he’ll go after my family?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances.” The tension had returned to his voice many times over. “And you have no any idea what he was after?”

“He just said that he came for something and wasn’t leaving without it. Since he stalked me in Scotland, he can’t want something I keep in my house.” She huffed out a breath. “I need to warn my family.”

“Well, shit.”

‡

O
wen Chancellor was
pissed. No. He was more than pissed. He was Changeling mad at himself and at Isadora. She was supposed to become his wife and do what he wished. How dare she ensnare him in a vine—with thorns no less. He was so furious that if he weren’t in his car, he would find the biggest tree and smash his fist through it. With his shifter strength, he could leave a hell of a hole, which would help release this built up anger and frustration. He didn’t like being on edge one bit.

Isadora would not get away with treating him that way. The only reason he wouldn’t take out his anger on her right away was because he hadn’t even explained that he wanted to take her back to Scotland to become his wife.

One thing was for sure though—she needed to learn to obey. He would show her he was the one in charge, and it would be a lesson she soon wouldn’t forget. He just needed time and a bit of witchcraft to help him.

It had been easy to locate
his
own kind in the hills of Hope County, and he had to admit that these American Changelings were nothing like that man with Isadora. Rye was his name—or at least that was what he thought Isadora had called him when he was showing her how to play pool.

It had taken Owen a few well-placed bills to find someone who could direct him to their black witch. Seems the Changelings in this part of the world had to hide just like they did in Scotland.

Glancing down at his phone, he checked the GPS again. This witch lived high in the hills, far from Silver Lake proper—if one could call a town with a population of less than ten thousand proper at all.

When Owen pulled into the driveway, an old woman was standing on the lawn in front of a house that looked as decrepit as the old lady herself. The wooden structure was worn and tired and didn’t appear to ever have been painted. While all of the windows had glass in them, two didn’t have shutters. With a few missing boards, the front wrap-around porch wasn’t in any better shape.

That creep he’d paid to give him this woman’s name must have told her to expect him, though he couldn’t even guess how she could know what time he would be arriving.

Then again, she was a witch.

Owen slipped out of the vehicle, and after he approached her, the old woman folded her arms. “You wish a spell?”

Good, he wouldn’t need to explain much. “Yes. I need a strong one to bind a woman’s powers.”

Her brows pinched. “How powerful is she?”

Giving too much away might send other American Changelings to find Isadora, and he couldn’t afford to lose that gem. “She can make plants grow with a twist of a hand.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Powerful indeed. You have the money?”

“Yes, half now and half later.” The weasel he’d found was a good haggler for the old lady. Most likely, she’d give him a cut of her exorbitant fee.

Owen didn’t care about the cost though. He’d come this far for Isadora, and he wouldn’t leave without her. Timing was key. Isadora would be on her guard for the next few days, so he’d wait as long as was needed. He wanted her unsuspecting when he took her.

“Come inside,” the black witch said.

He’d always held a healthy respect for witches, especially one who was a Changeling, so he did as she asked. The inside wasn’t in much better shape than the outside, however, the worn but serviceable furniture looked clean.

She waddled over to a table on the east wall and picked up a simple burlap doll along with a ball of sisal. The doll’s eyes were made from buttons and the mouth from yarn. She returned to him. “Do you have something of this woman’s?”

“Yes.” From his pocket he slipped the green velvet ribbon that had fallen out of Isadora’s hair when she ran back to her house after imprisoning him. He held it out.