Witch Interrupted Page 4

  She’d only mentioned Marcus a few times. Seven or eight. That was nothing compared to how often she’d thought about him.

  A tizzy. Groan. Her father was more astute than she’d given him credit for.

  “You weren’t yourself,” Dad said. “I did a little digging.”

  Instantly suspicious, Katie asked, “What kind of digging?”

  Nobody outside Vern and Tonya, her handler, was supposed to know where they were. Katie and her father had been listed as deceased, while Tonya maintained a tenuous link to the coven network. It allowed them to maintain a cover for Katie’s lucrative permabrand work.

  If Dad had contacted any of the elders, any of his old friends…

  He made a disgusted noise at her. “Nothing like that. Don’t go all wet hen on me.”

  Tizzy or no tizzy, she had every right to be mad if he’d blown their safe house again. “Ba, what did you do?”

  “I found out he’s a mongrel. A threat.”

  “How dangerous am I, if you didn’t turn me in a month ago?” Marcus dropped his hands, and Dad didn’t say anything. “You didn’t even tell your daughter about me.”

  Marcus didn’t realize they couldn’t have reported him without jeopardizing themselves. They didn’t want any witches, especially keepers, sniffing around any more than Marcus did. However, no one had come, so it was possible Dad had been more discreet this time.

  That didn’t excuse Dad for not telling her about Marcus.

  “I didn’t need to tell Katie.” Dad shrugged, the gun bobbing. “She knows how to handle animals like you.”

  She did know. It had been her job to know. But Dad had kept Marcus’s origins to himself, so she’d leaped feet-first into this mess.

  “I’m not a threat to either of you,” Marcus said.

  “Any wolf who knows about witches is a threat,” Katie stated, not caring when Marcus growled. “How is it you’re still cognizant?”

  No witch could have transformed without his coven knowing it…and coming after him. Or sending the keepers after him.

  Dad answered for him. “Incompetence. Pansy-ass covens today aren’t like—”

  “Like they were in your second pass-through.” Katie wasn’t in the mood to hear it. “I really need to know, Marcus. Is anyone hunting you?”

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle. Unless you plan to turn me in.”

  “You hurt my Katie,” Dad said. “Of course we’re gonna turn you in.”

  “Actually, he didn’t hurt me.” Marcus had visited several times without incident. Today would have been without incident if she hadn’t bonked her head. If anyone was trailing him, he hadn’t led them here. Yet. “Anyway, it’s partly your fault. Hell, if you’d have told me a month ago, I’d have chased Marcus away before he so much as…”

  Stared at her with bedroom eyes. Held her against him. Took her by the nape. Sniffed a lot more than her perfume. “Before he said hello.”

  “I don’t like the way he’s looking at you. I twice don’t like the way you’re looking at him.”

  “Zhang Li, my father, you mean well,” Katie warned, “but let it go.” Her weakness wasn’t something Marcus needed to know, any more than he needed to know her past. “What are we going to do?”

  “I haven’t decided.” Dad waggled the gun. “Think we should involve Tonya?”

  “Judiciously. She might…overreact.” A cognizant, arguably cooperative wolf in their safe house—Tonya would want to make a pet of him. Katie would never hear the end of it, and not because her handler was worried about safety.

  More like she was worried about Katie’s love life.

  “With you going full-out, the three of us might have enough juice to wipe him,” Dad mused. “Got fresh poppy and whatever the crap goes in the spell?”

  She poked him. “Seriously, Ba. Stop feeding him intel.”

  “Are you alpha, Katie?” Marcus smiled, as if that pleased him. “A resistant witch. I couldn’t have planned this better if I’d tried. Your being alpha is wonderful.”

  They were only ninety-nine percent sure she was alpha. She’d never given it the ultimate test, and didn’t plan to.

  “Nothing about this is wonderful,” Dad said, annoyed. “Now we’re going to have to poppy you.”

  “Even if Katie’s alpha, you can’t erase long-term memories without a full coven,” Marcus said. A full coven was at least thirteen adult witches, the more the merrier. Not three—one sexually frustrated, probably alpha; one cranky old man; and one soft-hearted wolf sympathizer. “Do you have a coven handy?”

  “We have Katie,” Dad blustered. “Is that why you’re here? Are you after my Katie?”

  “How could I be? I didn’t officially meet her until today,” Marcus said. “I won’t jeopardize witch secrecy, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

  “You’re wrong.” Katie had heard all the excuses. Seen all the tears. “Every second you exist, you put us in danger. If—no, when—you join a wolf pack, the pack bond will kick in and you’ll tell them everything. Then, after they find out about witches? All hell breaks loose.”

  “I’ve taken precautions against pack impressment.”

  “You’ve taken the opposite of precautions.” She wanted to remain cool, impartial, but her voice rose. “This isn’t a Gaia festival where they kumbaya about tolerance and love and all of us being one big, happy family. This is the Bible Belt. The packs here eat indies for breakfast.”

  “I chose this area because of its reputation.” Her impassioned speech hadn’t fazed him. No doubt he’d heard it before. All witches had. “What indie with half a brain would set foot in Alabama? Since my pursuers know I’m not stupid, my being here throws them off my scent.”

  “Clever,” she conceded. None of her targets in the past had tried that, but the world had been different then.

  “I’m not dangerous either. My methods have kept me safe for a year with few issues.”

  She scoffed. “I’d call us finding out about you an issue, wouldn’t you?”

  He rubbed his forehead briefly before speaking again. “My surprise got the better of me. You don’t understand what I’m trying to do, but if you let me explain, you’ll change your mind.”

  He thought she didn’t understand, but she did. She’d processed countless mongrels in her time. Most were worse than born wolves, angry at what had happened, resentful of what had to happen. Tricky bitches, cunning bastards, vicious and half-mad and too well versed in magic to let witches get close. Willing to kill to keep the memories and life they considered theirs. Except they’d lost that privilege when they’d fucked up—literally—by sleeping with a wolf.

  You didn’t sleep with wolves. Ever.

  You could imagine it. You could discuss it. You could read about it—the wolf fic websites Tonya had shown her were astounding in their variety and inventiveness. You could even brush it with your fingertips. Rubbing it, taunting yourself, until you ached somewhere deep.

  But if you happened to be aroused by certain wolves’ virility, ferocity and dominant nature—and you also happened to be an unholy strong convex witch—you could become a secret weapon who terrified even the other keepers.

  “Give me a chance,” Marcus urged. “What I’m trying to accomplish could revolutionize everything.”

  “I don’t like revolutions.” Dad’s gun barrel dipped. “You using alpha on us?”

  “I’m not alpha. Recessive, possibly.”

  “Definitely,” Katie corrected, trying not to wonder what he’d been like as a witch.

  “But not alpha, or I wouldn’t have these.” His eyes had bled pale blue. “Katie, you wouldn’t have these, would you? No matter what you did.”

  It was probably true. She wouldn’t change into a wolf if she had sex with one. Marcus was trying to tempt her. Thanks to his nose, he knew she desired him. He might not know how much, but he knew. He wanted her to imagine sex, with him, free of consequences. Free of discovery.

  An experiment. An exper
iment a scientist might want to conduct.

  “I wouldn’t have them because I wouldn’t fuck a wolf, and that’s all you need to know.” Her hands balled into fists. “Call Tonya. Let’s poppy his butt.”

  Marcus looked as if he might resist. Then he nodded. “Trust has to start somewhere. Tie me up. You don’t need to, but I’ll let you. Will that make you feel safe?”

  “Hell, yes.” Dad prodded Marcus up the stairs, into their apartment, and instructed Katie to chain him to her wrought iron headboard. They had several sets of handcuffs, provided by Tonya. You never knew what you might need when you were supposed to be dead.

  Marcus cooperated. He allowed them to trap him without uttering one word of complaint. He couldn’t be too uneasy about pursuit.

  Katie tried not to touch him as she secured the cuffs. Tried not to admire how stunning he was. So difficult not to stroke his bare chest, his biceps, his delicious-looking lips. Marcus’s steady gaze never left her face.

  “It’s going to be all right.” His voice was like liquid chocolate, deep and satisfying, seeping into her pores. “I understand why you’re scared. I just want to talk. Let me tell you what I’ve been researching. It’s fascinating, Katie. I think I’ve discovered—”

  That’s when Dad had hit him with the sleep spell, nearly catching her in the crossfire.

  Chapter Four

  Three hours later Marcus was still asleep, sprawled on her bed, shirtless and sexy. Katie didn’t want to cast eyebright to offset the sleep spell; that particular herb would interact poorly with the memory magic to come.

  “I just figured he was a kinky little puppy with a tattoo fetish. I never expected him to be a scientist. How interesting.” Tonya, her handler, friend and the main reason Katie had security in her life, often joked about screwing a wolf so she could lose weight without cutting calories. She often joked about screwing wolves, period. She tried to get Katie to joke about it, telling her the levity would make her problem easier to bear. As would actually screwing some wolves, but Tonya was dead wrong about that. However, the minute Katie told Tonya what—who—was chained to the bed, her friend dropped onto the couch and into professional mode.

  Shrewd blue eyes narrowed as Tonya studied the closed bedroom door. “What are the chances he’s led anyone here?”

  “He thinks he’s outsmarted everyone, but it’s worth noting he didn’t outsmart us.” Nervous about Marcus, about everything, Katie had double-checked their go bags and packed extra belongings. Sudden relocations weren’t high on her list of favorite things, but they’d done it enough that they’d learned not to wander too deep into possessions and paperwork.

  Tonya opened her massive handbag and started sorting through it. “You’re sure he’s a transformed wolf and not a coven pet? I wouldn’t put it past the California covens to try it just because someone else did. They’re always jumping on fads.”

  “He was definitely one of us.”

  “Is he one of mine?” Before going into hiding with Katie and Zhang Li, Tonya had been a sympathizer, part of the underground railroad for transformed wolves. Tonya and Katie had been on the exact opposite sides of the fence and had had to learn to laugh about it, or at least not discuss philosophy. “That could explain why he’s still cognizant. Of course, mine aren’t supposed to remain in the continental United States.”

  “I don’t think so.” Katie scrubbed the hair that had dried into an awkward cowlick on the back of her neck. “He mentioned a recent transformation, and you haven’t been in that line of work for, what, twenty years?”

  “Something like that.”

  Tonya had had to let that vocation go, and unlike Katie, she’d loved her work. Katie often wondered how isolated her friend had remained from her former collaborators. But the sympathizers were the best at disappearing people from witch radar, which is why Vernon Harrower, the then-director of the keepers, had cut a deal with Tonya to save Katie. He would step down if Tonya would hide his protégée and her father.

  It has been better for Katie to disappear than face the results of the inquest—and the wrath of the new council director, Hiram Lars, who’d intended to execute her.

  Twenty years wasn’t long enough for Katie to be comfortable with a cognizant wolf, no matter how polite and handsome. “We’re going to alter his memories. Play it safe. I have everything ready. All we need to do is link up and cast the spell.”

  “A life wipe, if we manage it, will suck us as dry as a drought. Tomorrow is patrol day,” Tonya said. “We can’t be power-drained on patrol day. Let’s wait.”

  “And give you time to talk me out of it? No way. We’ll avoid the patrol old-style.” Without reserves, they’d use the primed disguises in their go bags to cover their DNA and travel in the opposite direction of the wolves. The Birmingham sentries were predictable, and their duty was to seek indies and claim jumpers, not witches. They didn’t know witches existed.

  “He may have family. Children. A wife. What if he’s married to the wolf who loved him?”

  “The wolf who loved him. He’s not James Bond, he’s just some guy.” Katie’s cheeks heated. “Anyway, he said he was single when I gave him the tat last month.”

  “You asked if he was single?” Her handler smirked, the skin beside her eyes crinkling with amusement. “Why would you want to know that, Katie-kins?”

  “No reason.” Katie ducked her head until her glasses slid down her nose, blurring her view. “He didn’t mention dependents or pets or anything time-sensitive when he let us handcuff him. That says alone to me. We’re wiping him.”

  Depending on how old Marcus was, fine-tuning memories wasn’t simple. It required steady magic and surgical precision to coax and nudge the brain into accepting that it had always belonged to a wolf, that witches didn’t exist.

  Katie was good at it. One of the best. She’d participated in countless wipes on the keeper council. But there had, indeed, been a full coven, thirteen per team. Eleven or twelve when they’d had a member down, but usually thirteen.

  No one had ever suggested they manage a wipe with fewer, whether Katie was involved or not. She’d be testing the limits of her strength soon. It would have to suffice. The only other witch she could trust was Vern, but she’d rather stab herself with a fork than ask him for help. The cost would be too dear. Moreover, Tonya and Vern hated each other so much their animosity would negate the benefits.

  Tonya crunched up a mint from her handbag before answering. “What if we just tweak the part where Marcus found out about us and let him go? That wouldn’t drain us.”

  “Insufficient.” Short-term memories weren’t tough to mold, but a transformed wolf required a life wipe. “He could get ambushed by the Birmingham pack any day, and then what would happen?”

  “Sounds like he’s got that under control. It’s not unheard of.”

  “People brag.” Though Marcus hadn’t seemed like a braggart. “He’s not that clever, Tonya. He flubbed up in front of me.”

  “I had to try.” Tonya shook her tin of mints like a maraca. “Tell you what. I’ll help modify his memories, as long as you agree we’re not turning him in to the elders or your old friends.”

  “The keepers were never my friends.” They’d gotten their hooks into Katie as soon as she’d mastered the wolf and come out of it with convex magic. Over the next thirty years, they’d chewed her up and spit her out. Some days her soul still felt like a piece of old gum.

  “That’s because you were on the wrong side. You’re a sympathizer at heart.”

  “You know better than that.” Whichever way she might have leaned as a youth, after thirty years as a keeper, she’d seen and learned too much about wolves to be a sympathizer. Before the digital age and advances in forensics, wolves hadn’t been as inhibited. “But let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about Marcus.”

  “Have you thought about what we’ll do if we don’t have enough energy for the spell? I’m flush right now, but there are only three of us.”

 
; “I’m flush too, and Ba’s always full of it.”

  Tonya grinned. “Full of something.”

  “Too true.” Her father’s confidence and magical muscle often made up for his lack of precision. “Anyway, I strengthened the memory mixture with cayenne.” Cayenne pepper stored magic but had no effect itself, beyond skin irritation. Katie liked to supercharge her cayenne far beyond the standard, a habit developed during her keeper days. Difficult to work with, but a little went a long way. “It should increase the impact when I do Marcus.”

  Tonya’s eyes widened dramatically. “Do him? Oh, Katie, I’m so proud. I thought you’d never wise up.”

  “Come on, Tonya.” Katie sighed. “Not now.”

  “Would you prefer I be serious?” Tonya crossed her legs and leaned against the back of the couch, a sure sign she was digging in for an argument. The woman could nag the head off a horse. “Would you prefer I compare a memory wipe to rape?”

  Katie gritted her teeth. “Don’t go there. It’s not the same.”

  Tonya launched into her case, and Katie regretted fussing at her. “Marcus doesn’t want this done to him, and we’re going to do it anyway.”

  “We’re not going to hurt him.” Marcus didn’t ooze the hostility Katie associated with the wolves she’d neutralized as a keeper. Yet that, in and of itself, made him more dangerous to her personally. He was pure temptation. “He just doesn’t get to keep any memories a wolf pack could use against witches.”

  “It’s cruel. Inside, we’re all the same,” Tonya said, echoing Marcus.

  “Agree to disagree. It won’t change what has to be done.”

  “I know. But I don’t have to like it.” Tonya, to Katie’s surprise, acquiesced. They’d argued many times to impasse, but they’d never been faced with a situation where push had come to shove.

  Katie risked some deeper honesty. “I don’t like it either. Thank you for helping.”

  “I’m helping all of us. We’re in this together, we three.” Tonya held out the tin of candies. “Want a sweetie?”