Hecate's Own: Heart's Desire, Book 2 (19 page)

Chapter Twenty

“You all right?”

Zach took a deep breath. His hands were shaking. He was
about to be officially presented to Roland’s court, and his nerves were
completely shot. “Jo’s here?”

Ari patted his head. “Yup. She’s front and center with
Roland. Don’t you worry, she knows how nervous you are.”

Zach gulped. Almost all of the people he’d messed up in
front of were on the other side of that door. They were aware that a new,
powerful witch Own had been found. They weren’t aware that Own was Zach. Roland
had chosen to keep the news quiet, with Jo’s full approval. Zach wasn’t sure he
understood why, but the two had been adamant. When Ari had come down on their
side he’d shrugged his shoulders and given in. They’d been in court a lot
longer than he had. Maybe they knew something he didn’t.

“We’re having food after.”

Zach didn’t think he could eat a bite. His hands were
shaking. “They hate me.”

“No, they don’t.”

He stared at Ari. “You’re kidding, right? Those people want
my penis on a plate.”

Ari choked. “Zach!”

“They do! Lady, what was I thinking?” He turned and stalked
toward the door. “Have a nice party!”

“Zachary David Elijah Beckett! Get your ass back by that
door this instant!”

Zach turned, horrified. There she was, tapping her foot, her
elegant shoe sparkling against the mosaic tile.
“Mom?”

Ari looked so smug. He wondered if she’d actually spoken to
his mother yet. “I invited your family. Jo helped.”

Oh hell.
“All of them?”

Ari nodded. “Isn’t it great?”

Oh yeah. Great.
“See ya.”

“Zach?”

He closed his eyes. Life was just not fair. “Hey, Lana. Is
Annabelle standing next to you?”

“Yup.” He could hear the grin in his sister-in-law’s voice.
“And Jo is starting to pace.”

Shit.
Jo was waiting for him to come through these
doors. She’d ordered him to “prowl”, whatever the fuck that meant. All he
wanted to do was go home, curl up in his chair and pretend he’d never said okay
to a formal presentation. “Hell.”

“Zachary. Language.”

He turned to find the most formidable women he knew, bar
one, standing in front of the closed doors to the ballroom where his party
would be held. He was one of only a few witch Own, and Roland was going to see
to it that he was greeted in style. Right now, he wished he’d never made
friends with the son of a bitch. Maybe this was payback for the M&M
incident? “Hi.”

“It’s not like you’re getting married. Geez Louise.” Lana,
wearing a sleek gold dress and a new diamond engagement ring large enough to
blind passing aircraft, smoothed down the lapels of his suit. “You’ll do fine.”

Marriage would be so much simpler. He’d be the one waiting
for Jo to walk the gauntlet. “You don’t know how badly I screwed up when I was
here.”

“We’ll let people know about the hex. After that, just
intimidate the crap out of them.”

“Lana!” Annabelle was trying to look stern, but the smirk
just kept peeking through. “Then again, she may be on to something.”

“Oh please,” his mother huffed. “Who could hate my baby?”

Zach winced. This was going to be oh, so fun.

The noise level behind the door quieted down. Roland was
making his announcement.

Crap. Too late.

The women formed up around him, surprising him. Lana winked
up at him. “Showtime.”

Zach squared his shoulders and prayed he didn’t trip over an
invisible turtle.

Jo stood beside Roland and listened to him make his
announcement. The crowd was pleased, wondering which of the young witches in
Jo’s class had been claimed by the Goddess.

None of them suspected a thing.

Several witches from out of town were attending the party.
The head of her own clan, her mother, beamed with pride. Ananda Yashodhar had
taken Zach as hers. As far as she was concerned, Zach belonged to the Yashodhar
coven, and as such gave them great honor. Having an Own in the coven, and mated
to her daughter no less, was a great source of prestige.

Unfortunately for Ananda, Zach was a member of the Evans
coven and belonged to Annabelle, a fact Jo had pointed out to her mother. But
Ananda Yashodar was not about to give up the prestige of having an Own under
her leadership and had tried to argue with Jo and Zach about it. Zach had tried
to be polite, but no matter what he said her mother stubbornly refused to
believe Zach wasn’t hers.

Jo had decided to let her mother argue with Annabelle Evans
about which coven Zach belonged to. She’d established a truce with Annabelle
and had no intention of fighting her on this. Besides, Zach had claimed her.
She’d pointed out that, by tradition, that made Jo a member of the
Evans
coven.

Annabelle had been startled. Then she’d been amused.

Then she’d tried to put Jo to work teaching the local
youngsters.

Jo smiled at the memory. Luckily she’d had the excuse of
distance or she would have found herself in Annabelle’s living room teaching
rowdy kids how to cast a circle. In exchange she’d agreed to teach a young
witch of Annabelle’s coven how to train young witches. So far the girl had
turned out to be more than adequate, and Annabelle was pleased.

“…and it is with great honor that I accept the first
Hecate’s Own of our generation into my court.” Roland, looking smart in his
tux, his athame strapped to his side, his wand in his hand, looked regal and
powerful. His gaze swept the room, stern and unyielding. He was imposing his
will on the court, and they allowed it instinctively. He was their Prince, and
they bowed before him.

It always stunned Jo to see him in his official capacity as
Prince. Usually she just saw her friend Ro, goofy, pizza-loving pain in the ass
that he was. Tonight, she was reminded of
why
he was the Prince. She
knew the Wizard King chose his successor, but didn’t know how. No one knew how
the warlocks chose
their
leader, but she doubted it was anything good.

But witches
knew
who their leader was, and by the
time he’d hit puberty everyone had known who the next prince was going to be.

“He has proven himself in battle against a nest of warlocks
that were sacrificing young witches for power.” The gasps and murmurs raced
across the ballroom. “He labored with and overcame a curse so vile that the
candle used to contain it had to be buried three feet deep in warded concrete.”
Something they’d taken care of as soon as Zach had recovered. “And I have been
informed by a reliable source that this Own is one of the strongest we’ve ever
been blessed with.”

She could almost hear the grinding of Roland’s teeth when he
mentioned the “reliable source”. He, too, would have to get over his hatred of
at least one Godwin. Too bad Ari had almost gone out with Hugh, and thank the
Lady Roland had managed to convince her he loved her. Who knew what Hugh would
have done to her if she’d actually accepted?

“He is unique in more ways than one. Born into a family that
did not recognize what they held, his training suffered through no fault of his
own. To know that he’s accomplished so much through so many trials is a
testament to his strength.”

The murmurs grew in strength as those who lived near the
court began to put two and two together. Jo could barely contain her grin.

Roland signaled. Two men began to open the massive double
doors, ready to reveal Zach in all his glory.

“I give to you Zachary Beckett, Hecate’s Own!”

Jo almost laughed. Zach stalked through the room, his scowl
imposing, his stride lethally sexy. Flanking him were Mama Beckett, her
sparkling gown outshone by her radiant expression, and Annabelle Evans, dressed
for the occasion in a flowing green creation that looked like it would blow
away in a stiff breeze. Behind Zach she could just make out Lana Evans and
Arianna Malinborn.

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Lana had pinched
Zach’s ass to get him through those doors. Then again, knowing Lana, she just
might have.

Zach made his way down the length of the ballroom to a
startled, wary silence. He stopped before Roland and bowed low. “My Prince.”

Roland bowed his head in response. “Zachary. Welcome to the
court of the Witch Prince.”

Zach, mischief dancing in his eyes, stood. “Thank you, oh
wise Prince.”

Jo damn near choked on her laugh.

She could see Roland’s eyes twinkling. The two had become close
friends since they’d returned to Cleveland. Now that Roland understood how
important Zach was to her, personally, he’d made a serious effort to win Zach
over. And Zach, being Zach, had been easily won.

But then Roland’s eyes darkened. “An Own is a precious gift,
rarely given and even more rarely understood.”

What? This deviated from the speech Roland was supposed to
give. He was supposed to spout a lot of formalities about Zach’s place in
court. She watched her friend closely, saw the sincerity in his expression, and
relaxed. Whatever Roland intended, it was going to be good.

“That such a gift entered my court without my knowledge,
burdened with a hex that none knew about…” Roland shook his head. “I owe you an
apology.”

Zach smiled, his warmth reaching out to everyone around him.
“None needed.”

“Still. We treated you poorly. When we should have looked
for answers, instead we looked to blame.” Roland held out his hand. You could
have heard a pin drop when he slashed his palm with his athame. “Welcome, brother.”

Jo almost fell down. What Roland was doing was claiming Zach
as a member of
his
Coven, placing Zach above almost every witch in the
room. Roland, as prince, had very few members in his personal coven; no prince
did, as the entire court was supposed to be his coven. Each was a valued part
of the court. To be a part of the Prince’s coven did not exclude you from your
own, but set your status among the witches almost as high as the Prince’s own.

Jo was one of the few granted that privilege.

Zach drew his palm, the one with the wheel, across Roland’s
athame. He clasped hands with the Prince. Light flashed between their joined
palms, sealing the covenant with the Goddess’s blessing. “Thank you, brother.”

Annabelle looked like she’d swallowed a fish. Jo darted a
glance toward her mother, who looked almost as shocked.

Jo tried not to grin as Roland and Zach exchanged a back-pounding
hug, their bleeding palms between them.

Then Roland, his face wreathed in a smile, turned to the
court. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Zach threw back his head and laughed.

It was so weird. People who hadn’t given him the time of day
before were now walking up to him, wanting to talk to him, spend time with him.
Touch him. Oh, the touching. One woman had giggled in his face and felt him up
like a melon at the market. Thank the Lady Jo had seen or he’d be bruised all
to hell.

Half the fun was watching her decide who to snarl at and who
to let close to him. He knew it was wrong to enjoy it so much, but watching his
mate warn off other women was priceless.

“Hey, Zach.”

Zach patted the seat next to him, knowing this was one woman
Jo would never need to warn away. “Hey, Lana. Take a load off.”

“Thanks.” Lana settled down next to him with a sigh. “Are
they still dancing?”

Zach nodded. “Yup.” He gestured toward the dance floor,
where Jo was currently be-bopping around with Chris, the two of them having a
marvelous time.

“Oh good. I wanted to talk to you privately.”

He turned to Lana and saw the concern on her face. “What’s
wrong?”

She held up her hand and showed him the shadow wolf on her
palm. “I think Gareth’s in trouble.”

The golden eyes did sort of remind him of his big brother.
Zach felt himself go on alert. “Any idea what’s wrong?”

“Not a clue. All I know is it’s bad.”

Zach nodded. “You think it has to do with Gen?”

Lana frowned. “Gen?”

“Something happened back on the island, something that had
Gareth running scared. I’ve never seen him like that before.” He explained what
he’d seen Gen do to Gareth in order to save his life.

“Huh. And now you think he can’t face her?”

“She thinks he hates her.”

“Trust me, he doesn’t.” Lana frowned. He refrained from
asking her how she was so certain that Gareth didn’t hate the warlock Own. “Any
clue where she is right now?”

“Last I heard she was concentrating on hunting down Hugh.”
And Zach had wanted to go with her, but Jo still needed him. She tended to wake
up at night, shaken and scared. No way could he leave her yet. Gen had
understood, but she’d gone on her own anyway. Now, seeing Gareth’s eyes looking
out from Lana’s palm, he was worried.

From the looks of it, so was Lana. “What if she found him?”

“Gareth would pitch a fit.” Zach knew without a doubt that
if Hugh Godwin harmed one hair on Genevieve’s head his own would roll. Gareth
would hunt him to the ends of the earth and back.

“Has he asked for the ring yet?”

Zach shrugged. “Daniel wanted it first, but as far as I know
he hasn’t cast the spell yet.”

“Hmph.” Lana crossed her arms. “Boy better shit or get off
the pot.”

Zach agreed. He had no idea why Daniel was so hostile toward
Kerry, but maybe it was time to find out. But first they had to deal with
whatever Gareth’s new problem might be. “Want to call him and have him send it
to Gareth?”

“Might not be a bad idea.” Lana stood and patted him on the
shoulder. “Let me go call your brother. Then I think I’m going to drag my mate
out of here and have my wicked way with him.”

Zach stared at his dancing mate and grinned, knowing full
well what it looked like. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He stood, ready to take
his mate and go the fuck home.