Enchanting the Alpha (Hex My Heart, #4) (2 page)

Currents flowed along her arms, up her chest and into her body. Twenty-five years and she still hadn’t mastered the control she needed over the intrusions, for the lack of a better way to explain the overpowering visions that gave her blackouts at the oddest of times.

When her psychic powers had something to say, they didn’t wait for her to get comfortable. They barreled through and she’d better be ready to listen. Tonight had been different, though. Something felt off about the fierceness of what she witnessed, and she couldn’t ignore the absolute powerless feeling that came over her either. It all sat heavy in the pit of her stomach. She needed more details, but she couldn’t exactly command another vision to happen. Or could she?

Harmony sat back on her heels. The images had been so real. So... sensual and ardent. Possessive.

She could still feel the contours of his unyielding muscles, the way his chest felt pressed against her cheek.

Pine and fresh air lingered all around her and gave a rise to her heartbeat. Smells and sensations usually hung around a while after a vision. She was used to that, but this one hit close to home.

The question is why?

She pushed to her knees and started gathering the tiny multi-colored teardrop bottles when his wispy words came back to her.

What did they mean, and were they for her? Did she have the misfortune of hearing his tender words when they were intended for another? Both options scared her and heart fractured a sliver at the thought. Nothing stood out to make her think he didn’t want a future with her. Eventually. Maybe. Hades, she never really knew with Caden. He kept so much to himself.

Neither of them had said a word about taking their ardent affair beyond the couple of lust-filled nights of passion, but the way he held her tight and cared for her made a girl wish.

On the best of days, it was a love-hate relationship with her psychic abilities. Helping friends, loved ones, and those in need brought a calm happiness to her life. But there were days she could leave it all behind. Witnessing the future for others came at a personal cost that kept her from peering into her own, even in passing.

She needed to see more. Find out what the blood meant. Her future might be closed off, but how about his? Was it her fault she just happened to be in it? Would that make her guilty of breaking the rules placed on her kind?

She smiled. The Elders would say yes, strip her of her powers, and leave her out in the cold. Kinda a done deal with them. The archaic cave-dwellers, as her sister liked to call them, never bent the rules and if they cast a truth spell over Harmony, no way she could deny knowingly reading her own future. But that was only if the Elders found out. Her smile grew.

With her sisters all occupied with their own shifter problems tonight, Harmony had Enchanted Embers and all it offered at her fingertips. A little secretive conjuring seemed to be in order.

She placed the potion bottles on the counter and crossed the hardwood floor to draw the curtains closed over the front display windows and flip the sign to closed. Cold metal tumbled over several times and signaled the deadbolt had slid home.

There were three things Harmony knew she shouldn’t do.

Playing with magick ranked up there with misusing dragon’s blood, and the third on her list was letting her clairvoyant gift ‘accidentally’ foretell her own future. Her brows pinched and she bit at her inner lip. The gray area that existed for all things magickal and the rules that surrounded them needed a little bending, in her opinion.

Her mouth kicked up in a half grin. Except the dragon’s blood thing. Since she performed a civil duty when she confiscated the illegal vial of blood from the unsuspecting human girl last night, what harm could there be in taking a little bit for her own use before the shifters came calling? They weren’t due until tomorrow, so she had time.

She could forget concealing the missing content when they did, but the sexy winged devils owed her for uncovering a black market of magick and exchange of otherworldly creatures happening right under their jeweled-colored snouts. They just didn’t know it yet. Something told her there would be hell to pay for some unfortunate soul trading the shifter’s blood.

In contrast, most females—humans mostly—never saw them as a threat coming from a species of shifters that were in all honesty, crafted to make any women’s fantasies a reality. It was how the witches had used them in the war so long ago.

Shameful and it made her sick to think about it. They were nothing more than enslaved bouncers of the supernatural world and used as sex slaves for bartering with the humans whenever it suited the needs of the Royal High Council of Witches.

History didn’t change one fact—Dragon and wolf shifters were naturally sexual beasts at their core and had a way of making it worth any a woman’s wile to give them exactly what they wanted—in and out of bed. A point all the Sweet Briar Coven sisters were all discovering for themselves tonight, all but her, anyway.

Which brought everything back into focus.

She fumbled under the counter until she found the hidden stainless steel container she kept there. A couple of swigs of Moon Lust went a long way. Her sister’s supernatural hooch burned the back of her mouth and left a warm trail all the way to her stomach, then branched out as it hit her system full throttle.

She took one more gulp for good luck, or bravado, and stashed the flask back in its cubbyhole.

Harmony pressed forward and returned to the mess.

A little boost to heighten her powers was all she needed. A small spell to get a better peek at the message she somehow knew fate wanted her to witness. Her fingers tightened around the edges of her sweatshirt. When her insides twisted and tugged at her instinct with such force, past experience taught her to listen.

She flicked her gaze to the old-timey clock in the corner. Both hands closed in on midnight. Her heart quickened. She’d have to hurry. A small voice chimed up in the back of her mind. What if she stumbled on something not meant for her? How would she explain that to the Council? Then again, what if she never had to? That gave her pause.

Fingers wrapped around the multiple potion bottles and herbs, Harmony stood and gave a hip bump to the floor-to-ceiling ladder connected to the equally large shelves. All alone on a Saturday night playing maid to all the conjuring for her coven sisters’ mischievous deeds stirred an idea.

Wheels squeaked and clattered as she pushed to the different areas to stow away the magickal ingredients. With a familiar ease, she slipped the various bottles into their places, each with a soft clink against the wood.

Similar to the system of a library she and Ember, her coven sister, kept everything organized according to their strengths and purposes. Lavender and crushed rose quartz—very hard to come by—dried marigold petals and, of course, Fea tears had its own area obviously.

She glanced down at the one remaining bottle in her hand. Recently burned wood ash grounded her to the present when casting certain spells. With this and a couple more ingredients...

Harmony swung the ladder back to the dried marigold leaves and snagged a couple of purple candles on the way down. Careful not to spill any of the ingredients, she spread her bounty in a circle on the floor before the good sense her mama taught her kicked her back in line.

Next, she plucked a cast iron cauldron from the shelf and sat it center stage among her makeshift altar. With a jerk she pulled over a recent shipment from her grandmother’s greenhouse down south and thumbed through the small packets until she found the fresh buttercup petals. Blood rushed in her ears, but she didn’t dare stop now. Armed with a small arsenal, she assembled her ingredients according to their use in a semi-circle around the cauldron.

Finished, she stepped back to take in her work. Now, she only needed one more thing, fresh spring water. Light flurries fell like miniature fairy wings against her skylight.

Right. Dead of winter...

Hmm. She flicked the lock and dashed outside. Yellow domed puddles of light broke the endless veil of night down both sides of the street, but not a soul wandered the street in the dead of night. Not that any sane person would be out in the worst Nor‘easter that had hit their small Maine town in years.

Harmony scooped a handful of freshly fallen snow and dashed back inside.

Every witch needed a little help now and again. Being clairvoyant didn’t mean she was all knowing. Nor did it mean she could pick and choose what came to her.

As a young witch, her aunt had taught her a few tricks to boost the signal into the ether. The lesson came complete with a red flag of caution against using the spell for greedy, untrue purposes.

Of course.

She scoffed, tossed the bundle of packed snow into the cauldron and ticked her now chilled finger against her lip. No mistaking the fact she saw blood. That meant a matter of life or death, right? Maybe her own. That signaled danger and if it could be prevented?

No, she could better her argument. One by one she ticked off her reasons as she paced the small area behind the counter.

True, there had been blood, and on the sheriff no less.

This could mean the sheriff of Sweet Briar might be in trouble.

An overwhelming feeling of dread and panic had rushed her during her vision, causing a fresh wave of goose bumps to flush across her arms.

And it was her duty to make sure the fine law-keeper was safe. Right? Good citizen and all. Yeah, she could believe that and sell it as truth if it came down to it.

Harmony palmed the purple candles and scribed Caden Roarke down one side, and on the other, an infinity symbol enclosed in a circle carefully closed at the seam. One misstep could have her traipsing into the future of anyone with a similar name. She didn’t need to adopt problems when she was creating enough of her own.

The goddesses had deemed her family worthy of the gift in the old world and she carried on the tradition down the bloodline, as would every firstborn girl in her family and so on. She would tread lightly, but the haunted eyes of the sexy shifter demanded she push the boundaries.

Palms on either side of the cauldron, Harmony channeled her energy through her core and focused on letting it pour through her palms to melt the snow.

Chimes sounded off in the background and signaled the stroke of midnight and the beginning of the winter solstice.

Spells that dealt with time were sensitive—anything could happen to change what she saw and she’d never know what fate, destiny or whatever higher power wanted her to witness.

With a snap, each candlewick burst into an otherworldly cerulean flame.

Indigo, shade of twilight deep,

Tell me this secret of yours to keep,

One by one, she gathered the other ingredients and sprinkled them into the clear water with the power of her enchanted words.

Through shadows of midnight,

Through sun and light,

Lift the veil of time this night,

Show me the thread of fate for Caden Roarke,

As I will it, so mote it be
.

With a flick of her thumb, she snapped off the top of the ashes and cast it into the four cardinal directions.

Fog rumbled over the floor, alive with an invisible force. Her vision dimmed and the room began to vibrate. Unable to see, she opened her senses.

Something didn’t feel right. She pushed to her feet, but stumbled forward instead. Glass clanked against hard wood. Copper and iron filled her nostrils seconds before a bright red flash broke through the blacked shroud over her ethereal sight. A burst of wind gut-punched her and for the second time that night she fell.

H
e tasted magick in the cold winter air. Brittle and tangy but there was no mistake. Magick and mischief tainted the town and that pointed back to only one place. One witch.

The woman would be the death of him and it would come by either their shared passion for all-nighters or her aversion to the law.

He could sense her unique signature in the spell work. Witches had no idea how vulnerable they were to a shifter’s scent, especially to one with a badge. Hiding was next to impossible which made his job easier, but tonight he wished it didn’t. He wished he didn’t have to be here doing the last thing he ever imagined.

Power surged through his veins, and Caden loved the thrill of adrenaline that hit him like a two-ton bull with anger issues.

His wolf woke, stretched and hungered to come out and play. A second wave of magick rolled over him and he cracked his window and inhaled.

Exotic and appetizing. He could still taste her on his lips from their time together a couple of nights ago. His wolf growled in agreement. Vanilla wrapped in a sinful citrus made to drive him fucking crazy. He swallowed down the urge for one more taste of everything that made up his sweet Harmony McKenna. God, he could live off the way her essence charged his system.

A trail of sensation ran down his spine and tightened his balls. His dick grew hard until he felt the bite of his zipper. “Fuck me.” Why did it have to be him? His town? His girl?

He groaned against the strain that gnawed at him. Silence unfolded, his smoky breath the only movement on the dead street. Fingers buried in his thighs, Caden took a deep breath, desperate for a distraction.

His beast pushed against the paper-thin shroud that separated the man from his wolf. Acutely aware of the full moon hanging above, Caden pinched the bridge of his nose but it did nothing to block or weaken her allure.

He had a duty to perform, but the wolf didn’t care one way or the other. The only thing his inner self could focus on was the witch responsible for the ache that tied them both in knots for the last two full moons.

Instinct drove his compass and demanded he claim a mate, and his wolf wanted Harmony. They’d danced around the subject, leaving it a casual rendezvous and friends with benefits, but when she looked his way, her emerald eyes shone with something that went deeper than their casual hookups. And that scared him to death.