A Magical Shift: A Hot Paranormal Fantasy Saga with Witches, Werewolves, and Werebears (Weres and Witches of Silver Lake Book 1) (8 page)

“Now that you appear to be coherent, tell me exactly what you remember. Connor told me something, but I want to hear it from you.”

Rye explained how he was coming from Izzy’s when he stopped to help what he thought was a stranded motorist. “It was a set-up, though how my assailant knew I’d be coming down Riverside Drive is anyone’s guess.” He explained that he’d left McKinnon’s around nine and driven Izzy straight home.

“He could have followed you from the bar.”

Rye stilled, remembering the sensation of knowing a werewolf was near, but not being able to identify him. Now he wished he’d paid better attention. “It’s possible.”

“Connor said you mumbled something about it being a silver Toyota.”

“Yes.”

“I checked with both rental companies and neither has any record of renting a Toyota that color, so I pulled a list from the DMV.” He shoved the paper toward him. “I highlighted those owners who are werewolves. Then I followed up to see where they might have been last night.”

His friend worked fast. “And?”

“All have alibis.”

Rye studied the list of three. “Tim Smithfield has to be seventy and I don’t see the other two fitting the size. This means the guy rented the car elsewhere.”

“I agree. Can you describe him?”

“He was shorter than me by a couple of inches, though by the time I turned around I was a bit hunched over from the knife in my gut.” The average man was only five ten, making his assailant all too common.

“You sensed him though, right? I don’t remember anyone ever getting a drop on you.”

“I was thinking of Izzy and locating the stranded motorist and wasn’t paying attention until I heard him behind me, but he was definitely a shifter.” This was further proof Izzy was his mate. He’d been all consumed thinking about her and had pushed aside his other instincts.

“What did he smell like?”

Rye had to think. “Wool and the slightest hint of perfume or some kind of exotic cologne.”

“Could the cologne have come from hugging a woman?”

“Maybe.” Rye snapped his fingers. “He told me that this was my one and only warning.”

Kalan pulled out his iPad and jotted down the information. “What do you think he meant by that?”

“I’ve been wracking my brain, but I can’t figure it out. I don’t think I’ve pissed anyone off lately.”

“Could he have mistaken you for someone else?” Kalan asked.

“It’s possible. My back was to him.” Rye snapped his fingers. “He had a different accent. It sounded either British, Irish, or Scottish. I could have been mistaken as I was in a lot of pain.”

“You’re saying he was a foreigner?”

“Yes.” He remembered that Izzy believed someone in Scotland had been following her, but he couldn’t be positive the two were related.

“We don’t get too many folks from across the pond here in Silver Lake. If he’s still around, he’ll find it hard to hide in this town. I’ll put out some feelers.”

“Thanks.”

Kalan moved over to the fridge and pulled out a beer. “Have you told Izzy about the incident?”

“No.”

“Why not? You afraid she’ll think less of you because you let someone get a jump on you?” Kalan razzed him.

Rye held up his middle finger. “I’ve been ill.”

“Better call her soon. She must be wondering what happened to you.”

“I figured Missy told her.” That was lame. “I’ll call or stop over tomorrow.”
Just tell him.

“Tell me what?”

Oh, shit. Had he just transmitted that thought? “Izzy is my mate.”

“Well, hot damn!”

*

Today was Izzy’s
day off from working at the spa, and she was anxious to tend to her garden. During the last four years while she was studying in Europe, her mom had taken care of the flowers, herbs, and vegetables, and Izzy hoped she could keep it looking as nice. Sure, she could hover her hand over the plant and make it grow tall and strong, but doing so wouldn’t provide her with a sense of accomplishment. No, she wanted to see if she could grow vegetables and flowers the old-fashioned way.

With trowel in hand, she knelt down in the dirt and dug a hole, needing to plant a small rose cutting her mother had given her yesterday. Once it was deep enough, she gently placed the roots in the ground, and then firmly packed the dirt around the stem.

She sighed. Izzy should be excited to be home doing the things she loved, but she was still so unsettled. Rye hadn’t called her yesterday, and here she thought their date had been a ton of fun. The kiss afterward had been amazing and so full of promise, and from the way he kept studying her and smiling, she was sure he’d felt the same intense attraction. Guess she’d misunderstood his cues. It was no surprise. She hadn’t kept up on the dating protocol in the States, so maybe he expected her to call him. Hopefully, Elana and Missy could provide some answers.

“Well, well. Hello, Isadora,” said a voice behind her.

That tone and that accent had her memory whirring as she tried to recall if she knew him. No one ever called her by her formal name.

Twisting around, she stood then wiped her hands on her pants. People didn’t wander onto Wendayan land, and this man acted as if he was some long lost relative. He wasn’t much taller than she was, and from his pasty white skin and red hair, he didn’t get out much. “May I help you?”

“I hope so, as I’ve traveled a long distance to meet you.”

A shiver started at the base of her neck and worked its way down to her toes. The increase in her pulse turned her mouth dry. “What do you mean?”

He forced a smile, but there was no joy in his eyes. “I saw you perform an amazin’ feat in Scotland and wanted to find out more about your talents.”

Her heart nearly stopped. “You must be mistaken.” The odious man moved closer and Izzy held her palm over the newly planted rosebush. “You aren’t supposed to be here. Please leave.”

“I came for something, and I won’t leave without it.” His forceful words had her blood pressure shooting skyward.

Izzy drew herself up to her full height of five foot eight and stared him in the eyes. “If you’ve seen my talents, then you don’t want to make me mad.”

“What are you plannin’ to do? Shoot a fireball at me? You’d have a lot of explainin’ to do, lass, if you killed me.”

If he’d seen her do that, he might have been the werewolf.
Think, think.
Rye would know what to do, but he wasn’t here. Summoning her powers, she lifted her hand, drawing the thorny rosebush upward. His eyes widened as if he understood what was about to happen, but didn’t really believe it. With a flick of her wrist, the plant shot forward and wrapped around him.

“What the fuck?” he shouted. The man struggled and tore at the vine that kept weaving its way around his body.

Try to get out of that mess, Mr. Scotsman.
Not wanting to listen to his shouts or screams, Izzy rushed back inside the house. Taking only a second to grab her keys and purse, she locked up, and then jumped in her car. All she could think of was running to Rye where she’d be safe.

‡

A
fter a full
day to think about what he was going to say to Izzy, it was time for Rye to set things straight with her. Coming right out and stating they had something special happening between them might unnerve her, but telling her she was his mate would definitely be over the top. They’d only been out on one date.

Even though he knew they were destined for one another, it didn’t mean they would become mated unless Izzy accepted him. For that to happen, it would take work on his part.

Most likely Missy had told Izzy about the incident, and Rye was a bit surprised she hadn’t called yet to ask about him, but perhaps he’d misread her interest.

As he was about to find a shirt to put on, there was a knock on his door, and his body immediately reacted with waves of lust.

Izzy was here.

He had no idea, if she’d be concerned or angry that he hadn’t called. As he pulled open the door to say hello, the words left him as he steeled himself against the intense body-assaulting waves of desire.

Dressed in tattered jeans and a body hugging green T-shirt, she looked amazing, despite her pinched mouth and the lines around her eyes. Her hands were smudged with dirt, and both knees were stained brown. This wasn’t a social call.

“May I come in?” she asked. A hint of fear emanated from deep within her, and his wolf tried to claw his way out. He tamped down his overwhelming urge to hold and protect her.

“Sure.”

Izzy glanced back over her shoulder as if she believed someone had followed her, and then ducked inside. That one action had his gut twisting in knots. He had so many questions, but he didn’t want to scare her by going all Alpha and protective mate on her and ask what was going on. Because of his worry, her intoxicating scent thankfully wasn’t eliciting the usual reaction.

“How about we sit in the living room?” he asked. Izzy stepped farther inside his house and glanced around. He’d never taken much time to decorate. The black leather sofa set and large screen TV screamed bachelor pad and surely wouldn’t appeal to the lovely woman before him. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No. I’m fine.”

She sat on the sofa, and he took the seat facing her. Perhaps it was for the best, as being near her interrupted his thinking.

She glanced off to the side as if something was weighing on her mind. “I think my stalker followed me here.”

His heart lurched so hard, his incisors sprouted, and his bones cracked. Her hand clasped her chest, and she sucked in a deep breath. Hating that he startled her, Rye drew in his inner wolf and forced his heartbeat to slow. The changes disappeared, and he was once more fully human. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to lose control like that.”

“It’s all right. You just took me by surprise. It’s not like I haven’t seen a shifter before.”

That might be true, but most likely not very often. “Tell me everything,” he demanded. “And leave nothing out. I want to know even the smallest detail about this stalker.”

*

Once Izzy saw
the scars on his body, she hadn’t wanted to burden him with her own problems, but her comment had just slipped out. She nodded. “Do you remember I mentioned that someone, probably a werewolf, might have been watching me the day I was practicing my magic in Scotland?”

He sat up straighter. “Yes. Don’t tell me you think he’s here?”

“I know he is. He showed up while I was in the garden and said he followed me. He also said he came for something, but he didn’t say what it was.”

Rye scrubbed a hand down his chiseled jaw. “What does your stalker look like?”

She thought it was an odd question, but she answered anyway. “He’s an ordinary looking man. He has few muscles, red hair, and white skin. Oh, and a long, thin nose. He’s at my place now if you want to see him for yourself.”

Rye jumped up. “What? What do you mean he’s at your place?”

“Don’t worry, I twisted a vine around his body then came straight here.”

“That was smart.” He paced in front of her. “He’s still at your house?”

“He should be, unless he was able to get loose. The vine loses its power after a while, and if he shifted into his wolf form, he’d be able to get away. It wasn’t like I had a lot of time to think about my plan.”