Enchanting Wilder (8 page)

“What?” she snaps.

I shrug my shoulders. “You’re awfully judgmental of a group of people that supposedly help keep our world safe.”

Her eyebrows furrow and she takes a long, deep breath, gripping the counter tighter. “That’s for another time.” She turns for the window and looks out, gazing at our lush, green backyard. “You think he’s telling the truth?”

“I really do.” There’s no doubt in my mind.

I have no reason not to believe him.
You have no reason to believe him, either.
He seemed pretty spooked to know I was a Strix. Plus, only people in our world would know what I was. Lying about his own existence wouldn’t make any sense.

“McKenna. How did you get yourself into this predicament?”

“I don’t know!” I say, getting angry. It would be
me
to screw up unintentionally. I never purposefully try to get into trouble, yet somehow I always do.

Whether it’s accidentally pushing a little boy off the monkey bars as a kid or unintentionally ruining the end of a movie for Candy, I’m always screwing things up. It’s a curse. One, I’m sure wouldn’t be taken seriously, but a curse of my own nonetheless.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself from going to him a second time. I was just so confused. I’ve never seen such a creature, and I could tell by Declan’s eyes he needed to be saved. I don’t even really know what I was supposed to do.” I shutter. “I felt this dream in my bones, Sally. I, myself, dreamt about it for days afterward. The Leaders are probably so pissed.” I sigh, getting worked up. The last thing I want to do is get in trouble with the oldest beings in my world.

I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone about the dream. Sure, I could tell Candy, but she’ll want to decipher every little detail and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to do that. And when I did mention it to her, I told her as little as possible.

There’s an old legend that states a Strix can automatically gather a person’s character just by looking into their eyes. It doesn’t require a magic potion, or an incantation, it was supposed to be a trait passed down from generation to generation. My parents never had the ability, so I figured I didn’t have it. But then I saw Declan, and I just knew instantly I had the ability. Something in me clicked. I could tell everything about him in one millisecond.

He was tortured, begging and pleading to be a good, decent guy, but he was burdened with the guilt of his choices. I didn’t have to guess. I knew deep within my bones my assessment was true. It was the truest reading I’ve had of a person in my entire life.

Going back to him a second time wasn’t about saving him. Not really—not if I’m being honest. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to make sure his heart was still beating. If he was able to dream again, that meant he was still alive. It was the only thing that mattered.

I knew sharing that little bit of information would surely earn me a one-way ticket to boyfriendville in Candy and Sally’s minds. Boyfriendville was just past lost-my-mindville. I wasn’t at all ready to hop on a train leading anywhere near there, so I kept it to myself.

“No one is pissed at you, McKenna,” Sally assures. “Everyone was just baffled. They didn’t know what to do about him.”

My eyes squint. “What does that mean?”

Sally looks down at her feet. “Thankfully, he’s a Pursuer, so nothing needs to be done. I’ll go and tell them as soon as we’re through. Don’t worry.” She doesn’t elaborate. “But, McKenna, there was talk about taking the memory of your dream away.”

Her words hit me deep in my gut. When a Strix has a dream taken from her Grander, it takes a toll on the soul of the Strix. Weakens our power. We aren’t able to properly go into dreams. It’s a short road from weakened powers to no power at all.

“Oh,” I say, biting on my thumbnail.

Sally strides to me and places her hand on my shoulder. “I won’t let it happen. I was already in talks with the head Leaders, coaxing them off the ledge.”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

Sally has always had my back. She’s been my Spirit Guide since I was old enough to properly jump into dreams. Spirit Guides don’t age as mortal do, so I know she had a lot of practice at this before I was in her care. She’s hundreds of years old—though, I’ve always been too embarrassed to ask exactly how old.

Witches also have the ability to do the same—live forever, I mean—but, a lot of us choose to age as normal people do. We want to grow old with our loved ones. The Leaders couldn’t care less about growing old with people they love. To them, power is love.

It’s all just a bunch of politics. Leaders gain their name with years. I don’t know a Leader younger than five hundred years old. No one wants to dethrone a Leader, so we all happily go about our lives. Status quo and all that bullcrap.

“Thanks, Sally,” I offer, wrapping my arms around her. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She pulls away from me and smiles. “You won’t have to. And—,” she stops when the doorbell rings. “Actually, I have to get going. It’s probably best to let them know about Declan as soon as possible.”

I nod. “See you tonight. And Sally, thanks.”

She winks and disappears. Her being fades into thin air and I’m left with the wisps of her exit.

Feeling a little more grounded after talking things over; I walk down the stairs to the front door. Figuring it’s a client here to pick up an order of flowers, I put on a big smile and swing it open wide.

Instead, I discover Declan and my stomach drops into my feet.

His black boots shift from side to side on my welcome mat, and his leather-covered arms hold plastic grocery bags. His eyes widen in panic as my mouth turns from a smile to gaping disbelief.

“How—what are you doing here?”

“Listen,” he starts, “I picked up all of your food and replaced the milk.” He holds up the arm with the new milk and shoves past me, walking toward the stairs. “I even picked up a candle, and,” he stops, pulling out a bouquet of flowers, “these.”

As he turns around with the flowers in the middle of the entryway, I’m still standing shocked in the doorway.

“Which…you don’t need.” He takes note of the countless flowers in the shop.

“What?” I ask, more than a little confused. I blink a few times, making sure I’m not imagining him in my house, standing it front of my stairs, offering me flowers. How in the hell did this happen? “What are you doing here, Declan?”

His shoulders deflate and he points up the stairs. “Kitchen?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” he says, making his way up the stairs. “We need to talk.”

Shaking my head, I dutifully follow behind him.

I can’t help but notice the way his jeans hug against his body just enough to give a little show of what’s underneath. The fluidity of his walk and swagger of his demeanor is enough to send me over the edge.
Really, McKenna, now is SO not the time to be imagining him naked.
I bite the inside of my cheek.

We continue up the stairs and a ray of light catches his hair through the window at the top of the stairs.

Stupid perfectly quaffed hair.

Officially the bane of my existence.

I make myself comfortable on a striped blue chair in the living room as McKenna puts all of her groceries away in the kitchen. The open floor plan makes it easier for me to observe her. I notice the way she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear every time it falls into her face, and the way she huffs at herself when she has to reach high into a cabinet to put something away. She’s quite mesmerizing when she wants to be. Effortlessly so. Not that I should be taking note of any of that stuff.

When she’s finished and there are only empty, beat-up grocery bags left on the counter, she stands at the sink with her hands gripped tight on the edge. I try to imagine what’s going through her mind. What does she think of me coming here? Barging in. Walking into her life. Demanding her attention.

I took her by surprise. She probably thought she’d never see me again. Hell, when she left me in that alley, I thought that was the last time I was going to see her, too. She sprinted off and my mind was made up. That was it. No more interaction with her.

Then, I looked down at the grocery bag full of broken glass and milk and knew I had gone about the situation all wrong. I had attacked first.
Which is par the course for me.

Deciding to bite the bullet, I clear my throat. “I’m sorry.”

She chuckles. Her head goes down and her shoulders bounce slightly. “Sorry?” This time she truly laughs. “I’m sorry. Declan, we just found ourselves in a huge mess.”

“How so?”

McKenna finally turns around, her expression forlorn. “The Leaders, they found out about you, and I think I screwed up.” She begins to pace. “I mean I know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have gone back to you. I should have known to stay away. One and done.”

Is she scolding herself?

“I knew better and I still did it. And now I’m on their radar.”

“What do you mean you’re on their radar? And who are The Leaders?”

She licks her lips and stops the mindless walking, facing me. “The Leaders are the oldest witches and warlocks in my world. They delegate laws, assignments—everything basically. We’re under their thumbs. At the mercy of their attitudes. It’s all a bunch of politics. I hate it but have to respect them because it’s my place.” She sighs. “And when you’re under The Leaders’ radar, it could mean trouble.”

“Such as?”

She walks to the couch adjacent to me and sits down, folding her legs underneath her. The light blue fabric brings out the honey color of her eyes even more and I have to remind myself not to stare too hard.

“It just means there’s no room for error. Ever. And it also means they might be looking at you, too. You’re a Pursuer, so you’re okay,” she quickly assures me, “but had you been mortal, I don’t know what they would have done.”

My instincts kick in. They sound like monsters. “Kill me?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “No. God, I don’t think so. They’d erase your memory and then take my ability away.” She visibly shakes at the thought. I find myself seeing red at the thought of anyone taking this woman’s gift away.

Taking a deep breath, I stand on wobbly legs. “I truly am sorry for everything that happened.” My mind flashes to our moment in the alley when I slammed her head against the wall and I flinch. “I only hope you can forgive me.”

I decide there’s no more to be said and excuse myself. Before I hit the first stair, McKenna wraps her tiny hand around my forearm and stops me.

“You’re already forgiven, Declan.” The grip she has on my arm tightens, and my eyes soften at her kind and compassionate heart.

I nod, accepting it probably doesn’t matter if I feel a large guilt for what I did—because I sure as hell do—because she wouldn’t hear it anyway. “That’s probably far too good for me. But thank you.”

She smiles, the sunlight from the window shining on her face, pronouncing her beauty. “Actually, while I have you here, I wanted to talk to you about your dream.”

I tense, the memory of it still so fresh in my mind. Like a new wound, not yet healed. “Okay.”

“Have you ever seen a red-eye demon like that before?”

I shake my head nervously and look down at my feet. “Never. But can I be honest with you?”

She blinks. “Of course.”