A Magical Shift: A Hot Paranormal Fantasy Saga with Witches, Werewolves, and Werebears (Weres and Witches of Silver Lake Book 1) (25 page)

“I’ll be right there.”

“Call 911 for an ambulance.”

“Will do.”

It would be smarter to have the huge bear with him when he took down Izzy’s stalker, but Rye wanted to tear Chancellor limb from limb all by himself—for stabbing him and for kidnapping Izzy. Kalan would merely arrest the son of a bitch, but Rye needed him dead.

He snatched his keys from the ignition. Not wanting to alert the occupants in the home, he didn’t close his door. Two wolf scents emanated from inside, along with Izzy’s. One was Chancellor and the other the witch Changeling.

Rye crept up to the east side window and peered in. Shit. Owen Chancellor was standing near Izzy with a gun in his hand. She was chained to the chair, her face was swollen on one side, and blood had stained her left shoulder. His blood pressure soared and his muscles tensed.
Motherfucker. You will die
.

Rye’s teeth sharpened and his gut tightened. He wanted to rush in and shoot the bastard in the heart, but he didn’t have a gun. Not wanting to be noticed looking in, he slid below the window, deciding his next move. Given the presence of his wolf signature, Rye was somewhat amazed that Chancellor hadn’t come out to investigate. The odious man must be slipping or else he feared if he left Izzy alone, even for a few seconds, it might give her the upper hand.

Telepathing with Izzy now might give away his presence, so he blanked his mind. One thing was clear. He’d need to be in his human form to get through the front door. What he didn’t know was whether that door was locked, but given the condition of the exterior, he bet he could kick it open with ease.

He also didn’t know the magnitude of the witch’s powers. Hell, if she could bind Izzy’s abilities to do magic, what could this woman do to him? Stop him from shifting?

Maybe he should wait for Kalan, because no matter how good his tactical skills were, Rye was no match for a gun. If Chancellor shot him, he’d probably heal in a few days but by then, Izzy could be gone, and he could not let that happen. The only way to succeed would be to surprise the man.

The squeak of the outside door hinges signaled the front door had opened, and his pulse soared. Footsteps sounded on the wooden porch. Readying for the attack, Rye stepped out of his shoes and stripped off his clothes. He had to protect Izzy at all costs, and that meant killing Chancellor.

A heated argument ensued about the witch not finishing the job that she had been paid for, which gave Rye more time to prepare. Needing a visual, he slowly crept along the side of the building to see where Izzy was.

Once Rye shifted into his wolf form, Chancellor would for sure sense another wolf was near, but perhaps he wouldn’t take the time to locate Rye’s precise location.

“Help her,” commanded the woman.

Rye’s heart nearly burst. Feet pounded on the porch steps and then a car door opened. “Whose vehicle is that at the end of the drive? It’s blocking me way,” Chancellor whined.

Damn. Rye thought the winding driveway and dense trees would have hidden his SUV.

“It’s my brother’s. He’s probably out back. I’ll ask him to move it.”

While Rye was totally confused why this woman would cover for him, he was glad she had. Perhaps she just wanted to get away from Owen and his lethal weapon.

Rye eased his way around the end of the trailer, just far enough to catch a glimpse of the gun trained on Izzy. Fearing he’d kill her, Rye charged.

Before he reached his target, Chancellor spun around and fired, but the shot missed. Remaining in his human form would put Chancellor at a distinct disadvantage. He must have realized that too, for a second later, Chancellor dropped the gun. Fur flew and bones cracked. Seconds later, Rye faced his nemesis.

Teeth bared and eyes glowing red, Chancellor came at him, but Rye had expected that move and managed to dart out of the way in time. Now behind Chancellor, Rye flung himself on the wolf’s hindquarters and sunk his incisors into his flesh. The wolf yelped and twisted in an attempt to escape, but that only made the wound deeper. While Rye was pleased he’d taken the first bite, the injury wouldn’t slow his nemesis down by much. The only way to kill this son of a bitch was to rip out his throat.

As much as Rye would have liked to prolong this wolf’s death, he needed to tend to Izzy. The ambulance would be there shortly and having a dead man nearby with his throat ripped out would be hard to explain.

Crouching low, Rye waited for Chancellor to come at him again. Once the wolf’s direction was set, Rye could make a slight change in his angle and go for the kill. Instead of the low attack Rye expected, Chancellor went high, his mouth aimed for Rye’s neck.

Not going to happen today, buddy.
Rye rolled onto his back then immediately leapt to his paws. Izzy’s captor snarled. Before the wolf had the chance to regroup, Rye sprang with his claws extended and dug his nails into Chancellor’s neck. Hanging on, he ripped and mangled the wolf’s sinewy throat until blood spurted. Seconds later, Izzy’s attacker fell to the ground, gasping for breath. Upon his death, the wolf shifted to his human form.

Rye immediately shifted back too, and using the water from the faucet on the side of the housed, he washed off the blood the best he could. He then quickly donned his jeans, shirt, and shoes. Not needing the paramedics to find the dead man, Rye dragged the body to a small copse of trees around the back of the house.

“Kalan, Owen’s dead. I stashed his body to the west of the property under a maple tree. Take care of him for me.”
The last instruction wasn’t needed, but Rye didn’t want to leave anything to chance.

Sirens sounded in the distance, and he raced back to Izzy. She was half on, half off the back seat with her mouth open and her eyes mostly closed. Even with his excellent hearing and keen eyesight, he couldn’t see her chest rise and fall or hear her breathing, but her life force still sent out a signal. Izzy was clinging to life—barely.

“Hold on, witchy woman. Help is on the way.”

‡

R
ye paced the
hospital waiting room, needing to hear that Izzy was out of surgery and doing well. When he’d found her in Chancellor’s car, she had passed out from the loss of blood, but the paramedic had hooked her up to an IV and she’d roused. That didn’t mean she was out of danger. It was too bad he couldn’t donate some of his blood to help her heal quicker. If only she could shift, she’d be back to normal soon.

On his way to the hospital, Rye had called Izzy’s parents and told them of the attack. They were understandably distressed, but fortunately did not ask a ton of questions. They said they’d be there shortly. He then called his dad, detailing what had gone down. He too wanted to come to the hospital to give him support. Of all people, his father understood the horrors that would result if Rye lost Izzy.

He’d just disconnected when Kalan telepathed, jarring Rye out of his reverie.
“I’ve taken care of everything. Chancellor had an unfortunate accident. His car went off the road at Gulver’s Gap and bounced a few times before exploding. I called the department and reported the blaze. I doubt much will be left of him.”

That was brilliant. Burying the Changeling would have raised questions from his Scottish parents, as would taking him to the morgue since wolf attacks of the non-
Were
kind were rare.
“I didn’t have a chance to clean up the blood. How will you explain that?”

“When one of the deputies arrived to check out the scene of the kidnapping, I told him that I had spoken with you right before the ambulance showed up. You told me that you and Chancellor had fought and that he’d been injured—hence the blood on the ground—but that he’d managed to escape. Due to the large volume of blood, I told him that much of it had to be Izzy’s.”

Rye had to hand it to his Beta. The man was a forward thinker.
“Thanks for having my back. I owe you a drink.”

“You owe me more than one!”
Kalan laughed then sobered.
“How’s Izzy?”

“She’s still in surgery.”
Several footsteps sounded causing Rye to turn around.
“Her parents are here. Talk to you later.”

“Keep me informed.”

Mrs. Berta rushed up to him and threw her arms around him. He’d told them that Owen Chancellor was dead and that he’d killed him. Her mom leaned back and swiped a tear under her eye. Izzy’s dad appeared stoic, while Missy’s face was white. On her shoulder was a large bag that he suspected held some healing crystals and other assorted items.

Looking back on when he’d been stabbed, Rye doubted he could tell anyone what Izzy’s sister had done to help heal him—other than it had worked.

“Any news?” her mom asked.

“Not yet. Let’s sit.”

Izzy’s mother gripped his arm. “Did Izzy say anything about what happened?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“You said this man had taken her to a witch. Did you speak with this woman?”

“I tried to find her after the ambulance left, but she had disappeared.”

Missy pulled out a small burlap bag of something that smelled spicy, along with a round quartz ball. Closing her eyes, she held the objects and softly incanted. Rye figured it was her way of sending healing vibes to her wounded sister. It had worked for him and hopefully would for Izzy too.

A few minutes later, his whole family showed up, and he gave them the run down. Having everyone surround him helped with his nerves.

A long hour later, the surgeon appeared with his mask down at his throat. Rye’s and Izzy’s family jumped up.

“Izzy is fine. The bullet in her arm went right through, and the one to her hip missed the bone all together. She’s one lucky lady.”

“May we see her?” her mom asked.

“The nurse will let you know when she’s out of recovery.”

Hugs went all around. While Rye was Izzy’s mate, her family needed to come first. There wouldn’t be room for everyone. “You all see her first.”

Her mom smiled. “Thank you, but don’t stay away too long. I know my daughter will want to see you right away.”

“You can’t keep me away.” Rye turned to Missy. “Keep doing your healing magic. We need her healthy.”

Missy smiled. “I plan to.”

With Izzy in good hands, Rye let her family keep watch for now.

His father clapped him on the back. “She’s going to be fine, son.”

“I know.”

“We’re going to head on out. We don’t want to add any more stress to your mate.”

“Appreciate it. I’m going to get cleaned up and come back when she’s had a chance to rest.”

He had plans to discuss with her—plans he hoped Izzy would agree to.

*

A week later

Izzy swatted at
Rye’s hands. “I can do it myself.” She picked up the plates from the dinner table and took them over to the sink to rinse them. This past week, he had tended to her wounds and hovered over her constantly until she’d wanted to scream. Sheesh. Rye treated her like she would break. Sure, she limped a little and had twinges in her upper arm, but she could function well enough.

Rye approached her from behind as she stacked two plates in the dishwasher, leaned over, and inhaled deeply. “Your scent is driving me crazy. I need you so much, Izzy.”

While she had been ready to resume their relations, Rye had wanted to wait to make sure she was healed. Their exploits could get a little rough. She turned around. Before they engaged in sex tonight, she wanted to get something off her chest. “Not having sex has been super hard for me too, but I’m healed enough now.” She held up a hand as he leaned in for a kiss. “We need to talk first.”

He growled then kissed her, sending her hormones into high gear. Rye immediately sobered then broke the kiss. “The white moon is out tonight. Are you still deciding whether you want to learn to shift?”

She grabbed his hand and led him over to the sofa, dragging him down next to her. “No. I’ve made up my mind.”

He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each knuckle. “I’m good with whatever you decide.”

She slipped her hands from his. “Thank you. I want to try. Once I successfully shift—assuming I even can—we won’t know the extent or the speed of my loss. But you know what?”