Dana Marie Bell - Heart'sDesire01 (7 page)

He snorted, amused. “I did not kidnap you.”

“What would you call it?”

“Giving my fiancée a ride to her grandmother’s house.” Whether she liked it or not, she was his.

The sex in his workroom just confirmed it for him, but until she accepted it, the spell would remain incomplete.

“Will you stop with the fiancée stuff?”

He smiled. “All right … mate.”

He laughed, delighted, when she snarled at him. She waved her finger at him. “I still haven’t accepted that, you know.”

“You will, sweetheart.”

She ignored him, turning on the radio and staring out the window.

It was a two hour drive from his house to Philadelphia, and almost all of it was spent in silence, listening to the radio. It wasn’t until they were on the outskirts of the city that she spoke again, giving him quiet directions to a section of the city known locally as South Philly. The brick row houses were well maintained, with wide steps or pretty brick front porches with metal railings. The occasional tree had been planted in perfect holes cut into the pavement, then surrounded by decorative bricks. The neighborhood had a very homey feel to it despite the fact that, not that far away, several stadiums had been built for the major league sports teams.

The only problem he had was the old trolley tracks that slicked up the road. He found himself driving more to the left than he was really comfortable with. “Why don’t they cover those?”

“Cover what?”

He gestured out the front windshield. “The trolley tracks.”

She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “They’re a historical monument. Look up.” He did, seeing the wires criss-crossing the road. “Those lines are trolley lines, still intact. These tracks are some of the oldest in the United States. You put a trolley down and it could still run all over Philly.

Well, most of Philly.” She waved her hand. “No way would we cover those up.”

“Oh. So you have a trolley system like San Francisco?”

“Pfft. No, not like San Francisco. We don’t have any trolley cars.”

He blinked. “Tracks and lines, but no cars?”

She rolled her eyes. “Politics are a bitch. The cars were supposed to be put into use, but things keep getting in the way.” She shrugged and pointed. “Turn left here.”

He blinked, confused, but turned anyway.

“Okay, find a place to park.”

He looked around. Half the potential spots had a handicapped sign right next to them. The other half were all taken. “You’re kidding, right?”

She smirked. “Just keep looking.”

He eventually found a spot three blocks from where she’d told him to keep looking. They got out and began walking. “Okay, we’re close to Oregon Avenue, which means lots of good food, some decent grocery stores, and access to most of Philly. Front Street leads to I-95, so that’s not too far away, and Broad leads to Center City and more shopping, with some theaters and stuff.” She crossed the street, vaguely checking for oncoming cars. “You ever been to the Gallery?”

He followed, wrinkling his nose at the smell of exhaust. This was one of the many reasons he’d chosen to leave the family’s home city of Pittsburgh behind and move to a more rural area. “Can’t say that I have.”

“Huh. I’ll have to take you there.”

He kept his smile to himself.

“Anyway, we can order in some cheese steaks tonight, maybe catch a game on TV. You like base-ball?”

“Not so much.” He was more of a hockey fan, but saying he rooted for the Pittsburgh Penguins might get him dead in this neighborhood.

“Oh. The Phillies are playing in town this week, so we’ll see more traffic than usual.” She strode up some steps and banged on the door. “Now play nice or I’ll put you in the dog house.”

“Woof.”

She snickered, but before she could reply, the door opened. A small woman with salt and pepper hair stood there in jeans and a T-shirt. Her feet were bare, and a small frilly apron was around her waist. “Alannah?”

“Hi, Grammy. Can we come in?”

Grammy? The five foot tall, barefoot woman was Annabelle Evans, head of one of the most powerful covens on the east coast?

“Of course! And you’re Christopher Beckett.” Annabelle Evans held out her hand. “Welcome to my home, Mr. Beckett.”

He took her hand, shocked at the strength of her grip. “A pleasure, Mrs. Evans.” He ignored the tendrils of magic snaking up his arm. He knew she was merely testing his strength and his ability to take care of her granddaughter, and he didn’t blame her. He might have done the same thing himself if it was his granddaughter. Besides, if Annabelle Evans wanted him dead, she really didn’t need to touch him to do it. She was one of the strongest witches in the United States, and had the council seat to prove it.

He followed Lana into the house, prepared to see a home done in the style of his own grandmother’s, somewhat fussy but warm and welcoming. Instead what he found was a remarkably eclectic looking home, with bright colors, modern furniture and homey little touches. The dark hardwood floors were counteracted by the traditional camel-colored sofa. The sofa faced a Spanish style TV

armoire that was currently open, showing that Annabelle Evans apparently liked to watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. A coffee table, the top done in a bright mosaic of tiles, was flanked by two bright, modern turquoise chairs. The camel-colored curtains stood out against the wall color, a lighter turquoise than what was on the chairs. Looking back through an arch he could see the dining room, done in a much darker turquoise, an ebony-stained Queen Anne dining set taking up most of the space. Over the dining set was a multi-tiered sculptural chandelier made of what looked like Murano glass. Beyond that was the kitchen, and what little he could see of it told him it was done in the same mix of styles as the rest of the house. The only indication that a witch lived here was the small shelf on the wall. A plaque bearing a sun and moon melded together in a seamless, yin-yang type portrait held pride of place. It was flanked by two candles, one silver and the other gold. A wooden burner held the ashes of what smelled like jasmine incense. He couldn’t tell if she’d done spellwork there recently or simply lit the incense for the joy of it, but it still screamed “altar” to him even without the trappings he’d often seen in books or on his own altar.

He liked it. It fit the woman who stood in front of him, chatting with her granddaughter. What he didn’t like was the exasperated tone she was addressing Lana in. “Why didn’t you stay at Mr. Beckett’s house?”

Lana gaped. “I barely know the man!”

“Didn’t I tell you he’d protect you?”

“Yes.”

“So?” Annabelle tapped her foot.

Lana shot him a look, like the fact her grandmother appeared annoyed was all his fault. “He says I’m his mate. He cast some sort of spell and says I was the answer or something.”

Annabelle nodded. “You did answer the call. I already told you that.”

Lana threw her hands up in the air. “Someone threatened to kill me!”

“And Christopher will protect you from that!”

Christopher decided to interrupt before things got ugly. Lana was turning suspiciously red in the face, and he didn’t think it was all from anger. He’d caught a flash of hurt there, quickly masked.

“Excuse me.”

“Well, gee, stupid me for thinking my family might help me.”

Annabelle sighed. “Christopher has dealt with this person for a long time. The protections he has in place were designed to keep him out. Why do you think I told you to stay?”

Lana frowned. “Wizard versus wizard?”

“Exactly.” Annabelle led her granddaughter over to the sofa. “Sit, and I’ll finish lunch. Then you can tell me why you think it’s necessary to stay here rather than at Christopher’s.”

“Because something tells me that it’s the last thing this guy would expect us to do.”

Annabelle stopped. Christopher studied Lana’s face, seeing for the first time the serene certainty that she was right. “You think it will take him some time to find us?”

She smiled. “Exactly.”

He smiled back. He had an inkling of what she was up to now. “God I love a smart woman.” He ignored her blush. “You’re right. I doubt he knows who you are, but it won’t take him long to figure it out, and when he does he might target you.”

She beamed at him. “Exactly.”

“While we stay here and work out the best way to keep you safe, I’ll contact my family and see how they can help us figure out what Cole is up to. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“At the first sign that your grandmother is in danger, I’m taking you back to my house.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to protest. “I will not put your family in danger. That is non-negotiable.”

“If he’s keeping an eye on your family, he’ll become suspicious if they all head over to Philly. How will you handle that?”

He took her hand and began absently playing with her fingers, the motion soothing him. He hadn’t really touched her since the incredible lovemaking in his workroom. It felt like it had been longer than a few hours. “I’ll have to tell them to mask themselves from scrying. It will buy is a little time, but not much.”

“And in the meantime we try and figure out what you did to piss someone off so much they threaten to kill your supposed mate.”

He growled. Supposed mate? He really needed to work on correcting her stubborn impression that somehow he’d gotten the wrong woman.

She patted his head. “Down, Fido.”

He took her hand in his and leaned into her. “How can you deny the magic that coursed through you when you touched the ring?” He kept his voice soft so Mrs. Evans wouldn’t hear them arguing.

“How would you feel if a complete stranger walked up to you and said congratulations! You get to spend the rest of your life with me whether you like it or not!” Lana was also keeping her voice soft, yet still managed to sound like she was yelling at him.

Goddess, she was so cute when she was pissed. “That’s not true.”

“Yes it is!”

“You could walk away from me.” His heart was pounding. Please don’t walk away from me.

She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes. You could throw me out and declare that you want nothing to do with me. Eventually, if you held strong, I would have to give up and go away.”

“And then what?”

He knew what would happen then, but he didn’t want to guilt her into staying with him. He wanted her to stay because she wanted to. So he remained silent, ignoring her deepening glare.

Finally she blew her bangs out of her eyes, glaring at him. “You are so stubborn.”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m stubborn?” He stroked her cheek. “What is the worst that could happen, Alannah? You fall in love with a man completely devoted to you, who will never cheat on you or leave you. A man willing to lay down his life for you if need be.” She had that deer in the headlights look again. He stroked his thumb across her full lips, teasing them both with the promise of a kiss, hoping to soothe her. “Give me a chance. Learn me, get to know me. I may surprise you, despite the fact that I’m a wizard.”

“A wolf wizard.”

He frowned, his heart sinking. Had she lied about it not bothering her? “I thought that didn’t bother you.”

“It doesn’t, not really. But it’s a part of you I’ll need to get to learn if I’m going to go through with this.”

“Do you want to see me change?”

She blinked. “Here?”

“Well, we could take it upstairs…”

She was glaring at him again. “Here’s good.”

He raised his voice. “Mrs. Evans?”

“You can call me Annabelle, Christopher.”

“Thank you. Would you mind staying in the kitchen for about ten minutes?”

Silence. “Only ten?”

“Grammy!” Lana buried her face in her hands but not before he caught sight of her reddening cheeks.

He took pity on her. “Lana wants to meet my wolf.” There was a difference between that flight in the woods and what Lana wanted now. She needed to meet the wolf, touch him, possibly bond with him. It would be another rite of passage for both of them.

“Ah.” Annabelle’s voice was knowing. “Very well then. I’ll have another cup of coffee.”

“Thank you, Annabelle.”

“You’re welcome.”

He tipped Lana’s face up. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

Christopher stepped away and made sure that the windows were covered. Satisfied, he began stripping. He chuckled when Lana turned away. “You’ve already seen, touched, and felt everything, Lana.”

“Don’t remind me, wolfman.”

He stepped out of his pants, fully nude. “You can turn around now.” He waited for her to be fully turned before calling his wolf to him.

He hated the word summon. It implied that his wolf did his bidding. It was more than that; it was a blending of souls, a partnership where each met the needs of the other. So he called his wolf and invited him in.

His wolf answered. They flowed together, the change overtaking his body, the wolf becoming dominant. He opened his eyes, almost afraid of what Lana’s reaction would be.

She fell to her knees in front of him, the wonder on her face easing most of his fears. “You’re beautiful.”

He tilted his head into her palm, eager for her touch. She stroked him, running her fingers through his fur, scratching behind his ear. He sighed happily and licked her cheek.

“Ew. Dog breath.”

He growled playfully, his tail wagging back and forth. He held on to the desire to pounce on her.

His wolf wanted to play with their mate.

“Gee, grandpa, what big teeth you have.”

He shook his head and stepped back, beginning the change again. He had the urge to run, a need he always had when his wolf was dominant. A need he couldn’t indulge in South Philadelphia. And the thought of Lana taking him walkies on a leash?

Hell to the no.

He reached first for his underwear, slipping it back on. “So we’re agreed that we’ll stay here until Cole finds us.”

“But in separate bedrooms,” she added quickly.

He rolled his eyes and reached for his pants. “Fine. We’ll have separate bedrooms.”

“Don’t sound so grumpy. Next thing you know you’ll be whining and giving me puppy dog eyes.”