The heady scent of white sage filled Barach’s nostrils even as she perched on the edge of her grandmother’s bed. As she had expected when she arrived almost a week ago, only her sister had been there, leaving almost as soon as Barach arrived to take over the watch. Barach had been alone with her grandmother since then. The elderly witch had gone in and out of consciousness at first, giving Barach hope that things might actually turn out alright, that her vision had been wrong, and that she would make a full recovery. But now it had been almost an entire day since her grandmother had last opened her eyes, and her breathing was becoming more and more labored. She looked small and fragile and shriveled as she lay on the mountain of pillows that were propping her up in order to help her breathe. Holding her hand, Barach sang a gentle healing chant, knowing that it was more for her benefit than her grandmother’s. There was little to be done when an elderly witch reached the end of her
Bored out of his brain, Tyson was struggling to find things to keep himself occupied. He had been in Barach’s grandmother’s apartment for hours and so far nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He was beginning to think that Layon’s intel was off. Maybe Tyson’s pack had given up waiting for Barach to leave the apartment building and decided to head back to the abandoned industrial estate they called home. On top of that, Barach hadn’t left her grandmother’s bedroom since he arrived. He’d heard her moving around several times, smelled the scent of fresh sage being lit, and guessed that she was smudging the room to rid the place of bad energy, but for the most part she was still and silent and he wanted to give her all the privacy that she deserved to care for her sick grandmother. Yet when he heard the beautiful, melodic chanting song that she finally took up after several hours, Tyson couldn’t help but feel intrigued. Something about that song entered his heart and drew him u
The wolves were everywhere. Though they were in human form, she could see that they were werewolves. Barach could always catch a glimpse of what someone truly was in her visions. She wasn't sure exactly how it worked, whether she was truly seeing it or whether it was just some kind of sense she had on top of everything else. Either way, she knew that the mass of men descending all around her grandmother's apartment building were wolves and from the looks of them, they weren't just any wolves, they were Tyson's wolves. Though her visions weren't always one hundred percent accurate or straightforward, this one at least allowed her a snippet of one of them talking in what appeared to be Italian as he gestured for his companions to fan out around the building. They slipped into alleyways, hid behind dumpsters, several of them even wandered right up to the front door. How kind of them, Barach thought when one of them bothered to ring her grandmother's doorbell. In the next moment, one
The pain that jarred through Tyson’s legs from falling three stories and landing square on his feet was excruciating agony. Had he been a human, he likely would have broken both his legs and injured his passenger in the process but as a werewolf, he quickly began to recover, able to feel the pain easing off within seconds. And it was a good thing too because he could hear the growling of werewolves coming from both ends of the alleyway. Worse, he could smell the rank scent of them as they stalked toward him and Barach, offering threatening snarls and snapping their fangs as though they were prepared to rip them both to shreds. Like hell I’m going to let that happen, Tyson thought, growling back in response. He placed Barach on her feet before him and then quickly stepped in front of her. Pushing her behind him protectively, he began to urge her back against the nearest wall. They weren’t about to get past him anytime soon. Every inch of his body was tensed, prepared to fight, his
Why the hell did I just tell him that? Barach thought grimly even as she relaxed back into the passenger seat of his truck and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Although he was driving like a maniac, it wasn't that telling her she should have him stop the car. It wasn't even the fact that she was still feeling the urge to turn around and go back for her grandmother's body. It was the fact that she was suddenly alone with him, trapped in a confined space and with no hope of escape until the truck drew to a halt. The worst thing was, Barach wasn't sure she wanted to escape him. Although there was plenty of room inside the truck, Barach could sense how close their seats were, how easily she could reach out and touch him. No, this is not going to happen, she told herself firmly before she spoke aloud through gritted teeth, "We should go back." Tyson flashed an incredulous expression at her before turning his eyes back onto the road, still speeding well over the limit and g
The moment they stepped out of the truck, Tyson became even more on edge. He felt far too exposed standing out on the front steps of the shop, waiting for Barach to open it up. The shop itself was just as Tyson had expected. Two huge display windows out front were decorated with candles, gemstones and small statues, glass bottles and vials, and all manner of other witchy things. Even though the place was locked up tight, he could faintly smell the scent of all manner of herbs coming from under the front door and guessed that inside the smell would be almost intolerable. Though he hadn't been inside many witches’ shops, he had been in enough to know that his senses were about to be irritated big time. Gritting his teeth, he stood by, waiting for Barach to do what she needed to do. "Well, do you have a key or not?" he asked when she didn't pull one from her pocket. Glancing down at her, he realized there wasn't much chance of her having anything on her. All she was wearing was a v
She tasted just as he might have expected, like cherries and cream, and her lips were plump and soft and smooth as if she were wearing Chapstick. When she opened them to him, he dipped his tongue into her mouth, tasting her further when she offered the same in response. They kissed as though it was their first and their one hundredth time all wrapped into one.Everything was heightened, the pleasure and desire and the sensation of having her close to him and yet he felt as though it was practiced, something they had done many times before, something they had been meant to do together. It was then that the need started to pulse between them. He could feel it coming off Barach in waves even as he realized he could fight his own urges no longer. When he felt her beginning to pull on the hem of his t-shirt, yanking it up over his muscular torso, he knew there was no turning back. Instinctively, he shrugged off his jacket, barely hearing its zips clattering onto the hardwood floor behin
When she had left, Silverdale had been on high alert, but on returning, things appeared to have gotten ten times worse. Though on the outside things looked entirely the same, the moment Tyson's truck passed through the gates and they closed automatically behind them, Barach felt as though a weight had landed heavily on top of her shoulders. She could practically feel the tense energy coursing throughout the streets of the locked community, and she was certain that something serious had to have happened since she left. If Tyson attacked us in New York, then he knew I wasn't keeping my eye on things here, Barach thought grimly, glancing at Tyson in the driver's seat to see if he had thought the same thing. Was the attack on us just a distraction from something going on here? It was clear from the way that he glanced at her, his hands gripped tightly to the steering wheel and his body so tense he looked like he might snap a bone, that he was having exactly the same thoughts. They wast