Chapter 12
Henry
They followed a few tracks from the intersection where Henry had found the witch but lost the scent of the coyotes and wolves in the tangle of city smells and car exhaust. It was the one thing he really missed about Montana: out there, he could track a scent for miles and miles without much effort.
It was also possible for someone—or something—to track him for miles and miles. Not so in the city, not after he’d spent years learning how to disappear.
The team spread out and searched for any other hints of who had decided to encroach on their territory, but there weren’t any clear signs. Without much to go on, Henry signaled them all to go home. Half went back to the old building—the massive industrial factory that had been turned into the original pack house—and he and Silas went back to the witch’s house.
Henry’s pace slowed as they approached the house and saw Deirdre’s car sitting out front with the passenger door open. He sniffed the air, searching for hints of trouble, and caught a whisper of an almost-familiar scent. He ambled to a halt in the middle of the street, frowning at the car. The witch. The new witch, he thought. Not Deirdre.
Silas glanced at him, then at the house. “Something wrong?”
Henry shook his head and forced his legs to move again. The witch, Ophelia, had been near the house, was potentially still there. Was she there by invitation or had she shown up looking to cause trouble? He didn’t look at the other wolf. “Just something unexpected. Maybe a bit of trouble. Too early to tell.”
Silas’s attention wandered to the car, and his eyes narrowed. Henry didn’t know much about the other wolf’s past, other than he’d spent some time in the military or a private military company or something martial, but he was generally a trustworthy and unflappable presence on patrols. Something about the way Silas’s posture tensed and he leaned forward slightly made Henry’s wolf roar to the surface, wanting to protect the witch.
He walked stiff-legged up to the car to evaluate the situation and stopped near the passenger side when he realized the witch still sat there. Her pale face took on a determined expression and she muttered something to herself before pushing to her feet. Henry opened his mouth to ask what she was doing, but before he could get a word out, Ophelia tripped on the cat and crumpled, her arms full of a bulky bag.
For the second time since he’d met her, Henry had to jump in to catch her before she fell. She didn’t weigh much, so it was easy to hold her up against his chest. It took a little maneuvering to avoid having that damn bag gouging into his guts, but then he held her and her head tucked under his chin and everything clicked into place. The world tilted a bit and realigned, and it felt like something that had been missing from his life was suddenly back where it was supposed to be.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath from her hair, unable to move. What the hell was going on?
Silas cleared his throat. “Want me to get the medic, boss?”
Henry shook his head without opening his eyes, exhaling a breath he’d been holding for what felt like eternity. “Nah. I’ll make sure she gets inside.”
“Who is she?”
“She’s Ophelia,” the witch said, her voice muffled against Henry’s chest. “And she can’t breathe.”
Henry loosened his hold on her, though he didn’t let her go. His wolf didn’t want to let her move away, not with another male so close, but he couldn’t justify guarding her as much as he wanted to. She wasn’t his. He didn’t even know her last name.
Silas studied them both with a raised eyebrow, then snorted and backed up a few steps. “I’ll go up to the house and let them know you’ll…both be in soon.”
Then he walked away, shaking his head, and shoved his hands in his pockets as he went. Henry ignored the other man and kept his attention on Ophelia. “What are you doing here?”
“Deirdre invited me,” she said. She pushed away from his chest more and pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. “Sorry. It’s been a…weird day.”
“And a weird night, seems like.” Henry retreated to give her more space, though he held her waist to keep her steady as she maneuvered that enormous bag. “Let me take that for you.”
He reached for the bag and she immediately jerked away. “No.”
She flushed just as quickly but kept a secure grip on the bag. “Sorry. I mean, thank you, I’ve got it. I prefer to carry it myself.”
Henry eyed her as he slowly closed the car door. “Fine by me. You should go inside. Deirdre will be waiting. And it seems like you need to lie down or eat lunch or something.”
Ophelia brushed the dark hair out of her eyes and wobbled a few steps closer to the house. “Right. Something. Did you… Do you know what happened last night? Who those animals were?”
“We have some ideas,” he said. “But nothing concrete. Do you know why they might have picked you out?”
She hesitated and his ears perked up. She knew something. There was definitely something she avoided talking about. Ophelia shrugged and kept her attention on the house as they walked across the yard. “Nothing comes to mind.”
“We can smell lies, you know.”
She looked at him sharply, a hint of fear in her eyes, and her cheeks reddened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He wanted to tease her more, since it was patently untrue, but Ophelia still looked off-balance and uncertain, and Henry wasn’t usually a dick to people. He left that to the alpha. So he left it alone and figured it would be easy enough to circle back to the topic later. If she stuck around the house for very long.
He found the possibility intriguing. What were her plans? What did Deirdre have in mind for the other witch? Henry frowned to himself and rubbed his jaw, standing back as Ophelia climbed up the rickety porch stairs. He jumped forward to catch her waist again as she hesitated, fearing she’d fall, and earned himself a withering look from the witch and an equally disdainful sniff from Cricket, who’d appeared on the porch to witness the proceedings. Henry snorted and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.”
“I’m perfectly capable of walking up five steps,” Ophelia said, though her voice verged on breathless.
Henry studied the set of her shoulders and tried not to grin. Maybe all witches were prickly. Or maybe she didn’t mind his help as much as she wanted to. He was about to tease her about it when the front door opened and Deirdre stood there, eyeing him with slightly more interest than he liked.
He kept his expression neutral as Ophelia stalled on the top step and looked at the other witch. Henry figured the standoff could take hours and decided to help it along. He caught Ophelia’s arm to help encourage her to go inside. “What did Mercy make for lunch, Deirdre?”
He barely got the sentence out before a jolt of pure electricity jumped from Ophelia to him, knocking him off his feet and halfway across the porch. He even flew through a few chairs and sent them clattering into kindling. He shook his head to try and dispel some of the static in his brain, and he had half a second to see the stricken look on Ophelia’s face before nature took over and the wolf roared to the surface.
