Read Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) Online

Authors: Kate Baray

Tags: #Werewolves, #shape shifters, #magic, #romance

Defensive Magic: A Paranormal Urban Fantasy Tale (Lost Library Book 3) (5 page)

Lizzie was on a roll. Oblivious to the irony in his voice, she said, “How do we trace the source? Of the rumors, I mean. I figure that’s one way to get started. Or do you already have a plan?”


We
don’t trace them. And yes, I have the beginning of a plan. I don’t have my head completely buried in the sand.” John crossed his arms over his chest and gave them both a critical look.

Logan wasn’t impressed. He replied, “Up your ass, you mean? Cleaning up your language for the lady? Isn’t it a little late for that? You’re already mated.”

His uncle could occasionally be a complete ass, but he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity his snarky comment offered.

He smiled. “True. But she hasn’t agreed to marry me yet.” He turned to Lizzie when she started coughing up a lung. “You okay?”

After a good minute went by, she replied, red-faced and wheezing, “Uh-huh. Just fine.”

“So—back to the plan?” When she nodded, eyes still watering, he continued. “The note likely originated within the Pack. Or was intended to appear as if it had.”

Lizzie nodded. “I vaguely remember reaching that conclusion last night. The author’s concern for the Pack was a bit of a tip-off.” She wrinkled her nose. “Overlaid by the huge, looming threat, it took me a little while to see it. What good is the note in ferreting out external influences on the Pack if it comes from inside the Pack?”

“Because whoever wrote it has been listening to whispers. And he, or she, might be able to tell us where those rumors are coming from.”

“Got it.”

Logan, who’d been silent for the exchange, finally spoke up. “Do you have anyone in particular in mind?”

He did, but he didn’t want to discuss his thoughts until he was sure. “Maybe.”

After giving John a long look, Logan stood up and said, “You don’t need me to handhold your lady any longer, do you?”

John ignored the choking sound coming from Lizzie’s direction. He shook his head. “Thanks for stopping by. I appreciate it.” Turning to Lizzie and including her, he said, “We both do.”

At some point she must have realized some response was required, because after a lengthy pause she blurted out, “Yes. Sorry—thanks.” Then her eyes narrowed and she said, “But don’t think I’m forgetting that bet.”

“Hmm. We’ll see,” Logan replied cryptically before he headed out the front door.

“Bet? Do I even want to know?”

Lizzie grinned and said, “Sure, but I’ll tell you about it later.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the living room. She sat on the sofa and tapped the spot next to her. He dropped down beside her, stretching his arm out to rest behind her.

She leaned into his shoulder and asked, “Are you okay? You look tired.”

He tried to give her the impression that he was inexhaustible, because he didn’t want her to worry. But the truth was he was likely just as worn out and drained as she was from recent events. Rapid healing and enhanced senses didn’t mean he could go without sleep for extended periods of time. Damn. He may have to actually
tell
her that.

Changing the subject, he said, “I’ve offered David an opportunity to join the Pack.”

He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, and pulled her close before his words sank in. He knew the exact moment his words registered; her entire body tensed. He tried not to smile, because she was clearly trying to relax and play it cool. His mate was a worrier.

“I know I’m new to the Pack and I don’t really understand all of the rules, but…”

He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, but he could also feel her trying to slow her breathing and regain some calm.

“What the hell were you thinking?” she said.

Hmm. She must have lost the fight with her better judgment. He made some noncommittal noise. Explaining the advantages and disadvantages, the risks and rewards, was too much for him right now. He should have waited to tell her. He hugged her closer.

About five minutes went by before she spoke again. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Her apology was quickly followed by a disgruntled comment. “You really do look like crap.”

He opened his eyes. “And you look as lovely as you always do.”

He could see the concern on her face; it was impossible to miss. He sighed. “I’m tired. Exhausted, actually. I need a decent night’s sleep.” He paused, considering how honest he wanted to be. “Probably more like a week of decent nights.”

“I don’t understand. Why didn’t you say?” Her forehead crinkled with tiny little lines. He leaned down and kissed the corner of her mouth. Then he tipped her head toward him and kissed her long and hard enough to leave her breathless.

He thought about the kidnappings, the threats to Lizzie’s life, and the threats to his own life. “It wouldn’t have mattered.” Because no matter how tired he was, how completely exhausted from the seemingly never-ending threats, it didn’t matter. He loved her, and he wanted her safe.

He rolled his head onto the sofa back again. “About David—”

“Maybe you should take a nap, at least. You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?”

She was peering at him like he was an invalid. And that was exactly why he hadn’t wanted to mention it.

“Eh. A little.” He lay down full-length on the sofa, dragging her with him to lie pressed against his side. His eyelids grew heavier as he tried to think of a succinct way to explain everything—the complexity of the situation, the impact that a successful move between packs would have on inter-pack dynamics. He let out a harsh breath, and he could feel the ruffle of her curls against his face. No, he didn’t want to get into the specifics right now. He was so damn tired. His eyes drifted shut.

The ring of his phone woke him abruptly, and he flinched. At the same time that he answered his phone, he pulled Lizzie closer so she wouldn’t slide off the edge of the sofa. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but Lizzie was out and he’d been deeply asleep.

“Braxton, speaking,” he whispered so as not to wake Lizzie.

Max Thorton spoke quickly, irritation coloring his voice. “Are you still in Austin?”

Since Max was one of his best friends and a pretty easygoing guy, John was instantly on alert. “I am. What’s wrong?”

“You need to get home.” Max let out a hefty breath. “I may have pulled a gun on one of your Pack members.”

Sitting up as carefully as he could so as not to disturb Lizzie, he leveraged himself off the sofa. He didn’t speak until he was in the bedroom, the door quietly closed after him.

“Explain.” It took some serious restraint not to yell “What the fuck were you thinking?” into the phone. Any conflict between Max and a Pack member placed him in an extremely awkward position, at best. Max was as close to Pack as a completely human guy not mated or married to a Pack member could be—but he wasn’t Pack.

“Since the alternative was a fistfight with a guy who’s probably ten times stronger than me, it was the only reasonable option.”

“When did you start carrying a gun?” John asked.

“I told you things have been tense here. You know I have a concealed carry license.”

Max lived part-time in Smithville, a small town that also happened to house the majority of the Texas Pack. He had a few other small places and tended to move location as his mood dictated. John figured that Max’s recent decision to stay in Smithville—relatively close to Austin—had something to do with Kenna. He’d thought Max’s fling with Lizzie’s best friend had been short-lived. Maybe not.

“Why stay then? You could have headed into town. Or back to Dallas.”

“To cover your ass, my friend. You have some local dissenters that have been growing more vocal in the last few days.”

John’s head began to pound. Logan should have told him. Shit, maybe he didn’t know, not if they were young. Logan wouldn’t have much exposure with the younger crowd. He’d have eventually heard murmurings of dissent, but it would have taken a little longer. Max knew everyone—young and old—and was more likely to catch timely chatter from the thirty-and-under crowd than Logan was.

“Who was it? And when did it happen?”

“Evan. He was talking shit at the diner, maybe twenty minutes ago. Ben wasn’t around, so I told him to have some respect for his Alpha. He disagreed. It was just him and a few of the younger Pack members in the diner, so—I pulled a gun on him before he could get close enough to beat the ever-living hell out of me.” Max paused for a second, but before John could question him further, he said, “I’m sorry. I should have waited for Ben to get back. It just never occurred to me Evan would try to jump me in the middle of the day, in a relatively public place.”

It was good news that Max had been defending the Alpha. It was highly unlikely anyone would feel the need to beat the living hell out of Max. And definitely not before he and Lizzie could make it back.

“Not your fault. Are you someplace safe?” John’s presence in Smithville would likely be enough to diffuse any remaining tensions. But it would take him a few hours to get there.

“Yeah, I’m with Ben. He’s got me shut up in the kitchen. He told me to make the call because I was the asshole who started this mess. He figured I could deal with your grumpy, recently mated ass since it was all my fault. His words.” John heard a thud and then Max growled out a sharp, “Ow.”

“Put Ben on the phone.” John rubbed his face. As his top enforcer, Ben was more than capable of handling any threats. But the disrespect Evan had shown John by acting as he had—that required a trip back home to Smithville.

“Hey, boss.”

“Make sure Max doesn’t leave. He seems less concerned than he should be.”

“No problem.” John could hear the smile in Ben’s voice. Guaranteed Max would be washing dishes until he and Lizzie made it there.

“Is Evan still in one piece?” This wouldn’t be the first time Evan had spoken when he should have kept his mouth shut. He was one of the younger Pack members and much too impulsive for his own good.

“He’s an idiot, but not so stupid that he hung around for long.” Ben sounded a little disappointed to miss out on a fight.

“Been a while since you’ve had a fight, huh?” John laughed. “It might help if you were slightly less scary. Number one enforcer for the largest North American Pack, you even sound scary.”

“Funny. Besides, the way the wind is blowing, I think we’ll both be busy enough. Something else, John.” Ben cleared his throat. “From Max’s description… Weird thing is—if I didn’t know better, I’d say Evan was drunk.”

Shit.
“Extremely unlikely,” John replied quietly.

“You think I don’t know that? But with everything that’s been going on, I thought it was worth mentioning.”

Spell caster magic?
He couldn’t believe anyone would interfere directly with one of his Pack members. But if it could be done remotely, like the scent void ward that was attached to food—maybe.

“No, you were right to mention it. I’ll bring Lizzie by the diner when we get to Smithville.”

After he ended the call, John went to check on Lizzie.

“We’re leaving soon, aren’t we?” she said.

“Hmm.” Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her. He was having a shit day, and when he touched her he just felt better—more in control, calmer, content. He kissed the side of her neck, breathing in the soft, pleasant scent that was all Lizzie.

She looked up at him with some curiosity.

“Rough day,” he replied to her unspoken question. “And yes, we do need to leave soon. Can you be ready in an hour?”

She nodded, but then she turned around and kissed him like he was the love of her life.

Hmm. Maybe two hours.

Chapter 7

A
little sweatier and a lot more relaxed, Lizzie headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. She’d invited John to join her, but he was convinced they wouldn’t make it out of the house while it was still daylight if he did. She grinned. He was probably right. As she leaned over, contemplating her legs—to shave or not to shave?—she realized her bum was a bit sore. The next time she was feeling adventuresome and the kitchen counter was handy, she’d have to remind John to help her avoid the hard edges. Hmm, or she’d be so wrapped up in raging hormones and hot sex that it wouldn’t occur to her.

Dang it. They were in a hurry. She wasn’t sure exactly why, but she knew John wanted to leave in the next half hour, so she needed to get her butt in gear. She opted not to shave, rinsed her hair one last time, and hopped out of the shower.

Bag packed—or repacked, since she hadn’t actually totally unpacked from her Prague trip—she was ready in record time. While John hopped in the shower, she brought out the pack book. Her life was so hectic, she never seemed to have the time to really dig into it. She certainly hadn’t spent any significant time with the book since her spell caster powers were unlocked in Prague. She’d been planning to change that, and now seemed like as good a time as any—because she had a specific question for the book.

If she lost her bet with Logan, she was supposed to dig around in the book for whatever information she could find on Clara. Silly of him, really. She’d tell him whether she won or lost. The book belonged to the pack, not to her personally. And since she’d be telling him either way, why not hunt up the information now? Her rush had nothing to do with the curiosity gnawing at her. He was such a crotchety old guy that she had a hard time seeing him pining away for a lost love or an estranged daughter. Who was Clara?

Magic was new enough to her that she still had to think the process through. She loved that Pilar, her newly acquired magic-using friend and fellow kidnap survivor, had hooked her up with a simple three-step process. She felt like she’d just graduated from kindergarten for spell casters. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. Other than a few inspired casts, her spell casting was at an elementary level. She had planned to make time to practice, but learning about her magic had taken a backseat to constantly emerging threats.

Well, this was an opportunity to practice reading a warded book. And she definitely wanted more info on this Clara woman. She held the book in her hands and went through the steps in her head.

First, find her magic.
She looked, and it was just there—a warm, glowing thing inside her that she knew was her magic. The more she practiced and used her magic, the easier this step became.

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