She and Abbey walked quickly to the edge of the building where Jaxon was crouched. She couldn’t see anything but his strong, gracefully arched silver wings and his slim, tapered waist just above his jeans.
Kara peered over the roof, her back protesting at the bend in her vertebrae. Jaxon was dangling the dark-haired man by the wrist. How embarrassing. Now her warrior would really think she needed him around for her protection. And she didn’t. “I had it under control, Jaxy. We were just having a talk, is all.”
He glared at her from under lowered brows. “Yes. That’s what it looked like when I arrived, mistress. This man was not about to assault you with a gelatinous orb of who-knows-what.”
Now that the situation was under control and blood was pumping to her brain again, Kara sighed. She couldn’t read witches as easily as humans, but she wasn’t feeling anything ominous coming from the guy dangling seven stories above the street.
“I don’t think they really want to hurt me. You can let him go now.” When Jaxon nodded and let out a satisfied grunt, Kara’s own words played back in her ears. “No! Don’t let go! I mean you can release him—on the roof.”
Abbey glanced over the side and groaned. “Jaxon, if you drop him I’m going to hurl. You’ll be picking vomit out of your feathers for weeks.”
Jaxon exhaled an angry breath through his nose, but if he was mad, it was at Kara. He’d let Abbey get away with murder…or the prevention of murder, as the case may be. “You cannot be serious. If I don’t kill him now, then I need to turn him over to the Mercury Lords for questioning. Releasing him is not an option.”
Kara reached out with her mind, scanning the energy around her one more time. Someone in the apartment under them was peeved—probably at the racket they were making—but everything else was quiet. She inwardly cringed.
“It’s possible…that there is some chance…that I might have overreacted when I followed them from the bar.” Her words tasted worse than warm beer in August.
True, when cornered, the men hadn’t been very compliant, but judging from the bruise on the guy’s throat and chin, Jaxon had taught him all the lessons he needed for one night.
The dark-haired man, his body tense in Jaxon’s grip and his feet pedaling in the wind, watched the discussion with wide eyes. “I swear I not want to hurt her.”
A growl of indignation tore from Jaxon’s chest. He stood in one smooth motion, setting the man on his feet and then giving his chest a little shove for good measure. “There.”
Kara regarded the man. “All you had to do was answer my questions.”
“All you had to do,” he mimicked, “was allow us enjoy vacation in America.”
Sheesh. What was he going to do, report her to the Board of Tourism? Kara forced a smile and stuck out her hand. “Hey, let’s just put it behind us. No harm, no foul.”
The man looked fairly happy to be getting out of there alive, but he ignored Kara’s proffered hand and jabbed his index finger in her direction instead. “No. One foul—you.”
He walked past her with his head held high and helped his friend to his feet. Then, with one last glance her way, they hobbled down the stairwell.
With pursed lips and nostrils flared like a drug-sniffing dog, Abbey narrowed her eyes at Kara. “Dinner is getting cold.”
Kara twined the pasta loosely around her fork, then locked it on with her last meatball. “Mmm… That was great, Jaxon.”
Abbey speared another bite of salad, taking out her frustrations on the massacred produce. “I’m glad everything ended up okay tonight, but you should have called one of us the moment you thought something was off with those guys. You’re getting a little reckless out there, don’t you think?”
Good thing Demiáre didn’t get heartburn. “The Mercury Clan has scouts posted around the city. How many more babysitters do I need?”
Jaxon rolled his shoulders as if to ease the tension there. His food sat untouched. “Babysitters, indeed. I was there when you cornered Lord Aiden and demanded the scouts keep to the outer limits of the city.”
Kara scuffed her boot over the floor and leaned back in her chair. “They don’t need to be any closer than that to sniff out a black-wing.”
“Seeing as they can’t stop the Aniliáre, wouldn’t it make more sense to have them around for times such as these?”
Kara shrugged. “Come on, you guys. It wasn’t a big deal.”
Abbey held up her loaded fork like she might bash Kara over the head with the cherry tomato. “Maybe not for you, but I’d still like to be included.”
“I know.”
Abbey sighed, probably realizing that was the best she’d get from Kara. “So are you gonna change for the movie?”
Kara stood and carried her plate to the sink. “I’m not really in the mood for a romantic comedy tonight, but thanks anyways. Just go and have fun, you two.”
“It’s not good for you to be alone,” Jaxon told her. “Trouble seeks you out like heat rash on the devil’s ass.”
“Is trouble seeking her out—or is she looking for trouble? That’s the million-dollar question,” Abbey added.
Kara scoffed as she scrubbed her plate. There was nothing wrong with spending another Friday night at home, right? “I’m not saying I don’t love your and Abbey’s company, Jaxy, but I’m pretty good at being alone. I always have been.”
“Yes, you were,” Abbey agreed.
Kara finished rinsing the plate, set it in the rack and turned to Abbey. “What does that mean, ‘you
were
’?”
Abbey and Jaxon exchanged a glance. It made Kara feel like her two best friends were conspiring against her. Finally, Abbey smiled and shook her head. “It doesn’t mean anything. I was agreeing with you.”
“I know you. You were hinting again. Julian’s barely been gone two months, Abbey.”
Jaxon sighed, but Abbey held her ground. “No, sweetie, he’s been gone a lot longer than that, and you need to let him go. It’s not right that you’d rather spend your nights with cold-hearted criminals than warm-blooded men.”
“I don’t need another man in my life to be happy.”
“Well, I doubt it’s possible for you to be any less happy than you’ve been lately,” Abbey fired back.
Yes, it had been six months since Gable almost severed Julian’s head, but Kara had hoped Julian was regenerating. She’d never comprehended the bottomless chasm of real loneliness until two months ago when Gavin had told her that the regeneration had stalled and Julian was truly dead. And then, within a week, Gavin himself was gone—not dead…but he might as well have been with the way he buried what was left of their friendship without a word of explanation.
“No offense, Abbs, but you know the people who say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all—they’re full of shit.”
Abbey set her fork down and rubbed her temples with the tips of her fingers. Kara noticed her cheeks were pale—well, paler than usual. She hadn’t been the same since the attack, but this was different. She sounded tired. And not just tired of Kara’s crap.
Frowning, Kara wiped the drops of water from the counter and hung the dishtowel. Now wasn’t the time to pick a fight with Abbey if the sickness was coming back. “Are your cuts oozing? You said you’d tell me if they started to bleed again.” Jaxon pierced Kara with a warning glare. “What? I’m not allowed to bring it up? Is it our dirty little secret that Abbey’s brand hasn’t healed yet?”
Jaxon stood and carried his plate from the table, scooping the contents into the trash, then putting the ceramic dish into the sink with a bit too much force. “She doesn’t like to be reminded of it, mistress. Let her be.”
Jaxon might hold Abbey through the nights when she couldn’t sleep, then act like everything was fine during the days, but Kara wasn’t going to play that game. “I’m sorry, I’m not going to pretend she’s all right when she’s not healing.” Kara frowned, and her eyes moistened at the corners. “Lift up your shirt. Let me see.”
Abbey pulled at her loose-fitting top, absentmindedly adjusting the bandages there. “Forget the wounds, already. I proved to you tonight that I can hold my own out there. Besides, I’m not letting you make this about me. You’re the one who gets her kicks from chasing tourists after work.”
“You know I appreciate your help, Abbey, but you shouldn’t be throwing spells until you’re back to normal.”
Abbey raised her hand and slammed it down on the table. “Stop! Stop worrying about me and acting like I’m a broken porcelain doll. You’re driving me crazy.”
“But it’s getting worse every time. The brand has never come apart again so soon. I know it bothers you that we never go hunting together anymore, but damn it, you haven’t healed from when Gable attacked you.”
Abbey narrowed her eyes, looking angrier than Kara had ever seen her. “And what can you do about it?”
Kara stepped back. “I…” she began, but she didn’t know what to say.
“Exactly! My grandma has done every spell she can think of. Nothing works! And I know how this hurts you. You think of that day, think of losing Julian every time you look at me.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I know you feel bad you can’t help, and that only makes me feel worse. I don’t have the energy to feel guilty over your guilt.
Please
stop. No more looking for cures. No more hovering over me. Promise.” Abbey put her hands up in supplication. “Just start living your life again, and let me live mine.”
Was Kara actually making it worse for Abbey simply by wanting to make it better? “Abbey…”
Abbey rose to her feet, but her voice was low. “From this moment on, you’ll let it go, Kara.
Promise
.”
Kara swallowed and tried to block Jaxon out of her peripheral vision. He leaned slightly toward her with a burning gaze, as if willing her to acquiesce. She had no clue how to pretend she wasn’t responsible for the festering wound etched into her oldest friend’s belly. But she’d do it for Abbey, if that was what she really needed. “I promise,” she whispered.
Abbey smiled, walked to Kara and squeezed her tight. “Thank you. It’s going to get better, Kare-bear. You’ll see.”
“The wound?”
“Missing Julian.” She released Kara, reached one pallid arm out to retrieve her purse from the counter and shook her red hair back. “Let’s go, Jaxy. That movie isn’t going to watch itself.”
Jaxon kissed Kara on the forehead, lingering for a moment after Abbey left out the front door. “Sometimes I worry more about you than her, mistress. Gable may have broken her body, but he couldn’t break her spirit.”
Kara stood there slack-jawed long after the door closed behind him.
It was such a mess. Kara was Jaxon’s mistress, the woman he’d given his warrior’s vow to, but Abbey was his true companion. They never tried to make Kara feel like a fifth wheel, but she envied the bond that had sprung up between the two since the night Jaxon had bundled up Abbey’s limp, bloody body and flashed her to a remote location to nurse her back to health.
Now Abbey didn’t want to go anywhere without her hunky security blanket, and Kara wasn’t even allowed to worry about her. Damn it.
Not a minute after they’d gone, a fist rapped against her door. Kara frowned and went to answer it. When were these tenants going to learn to call her cell instead of popping over when they had an apartment issue?
“Yes?” she prompted, scanning the thin man up and down. He was dressed in jeans and an old SDSU sweater, and she didn’t recognize him from the building.
“Kara Reed?”
Her eyebrows crept up. She didn’t like the feel of him. “Yeah?”
He pulled a cream-colored envelope from the pocket of his hoodie and held it out to her. She took it from him and frowned at the blood-red wax seal stamped on the back.
“What’s this?”
He smiled and turned to go, saying over his shoulder, “You’ve been served.”
“Served?” What the hell? Who would want to sue her? She didn’t have two dimes to rub together.
Kara watched his retreating back until he disappeared into the elevator, then closed her front door and went to lean against the kitchen counter. She flipped the envelope over to see that the front bore her name,
Kara Teresa Reed
.
When she broke the seal, a feeling like slithering centipedes trailed from her fingertips up her arms. Not sensing any lethal intent, she fought the urge to slap at her skin. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the elaborate calligraphy, then the words almost jumped from the page.
Kara Teresa Reed,
You will appear before the council of the Northwestern Coven of Witches on Saturday, October 12th at six in the evening to stand trial for crimes against Abigail Sellers. In accordance with our laws, if you do not appear before sunset on this day to defend your actions, your life is forfeit.
Claudius Sellers
High Priest of the Northwestern Coven
Kara let the paper fall from her hands. “Holy shit.”
Chapter Two
After picking the paper up and reading it five more times, Kara pulled out her phone and dialed. “Hello?” she said when an old woman’s voice came on the line. “Grammy D?”
“Kara?” came the quiet reply, then the sound of a door closing.
“I’m sorry to call, but I just got the strangest letter from—” she looked at the words again, “—the Northwestern Coven of Witches. I swear, I think it’s from Abbey’s uncle Claude. It’s a summons to stand trial for what happened to Abbey—and it says ‘Claudius Sellers, High Priest’ right at the bottom.” She couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth. How was this possible?