Chapter 5
Ophelia
My thoughts stayed muddled from the events of the night and all the crazy things Sunny had said, or maybe it was the effects of the super strong, super awful vodka from her husband’s flask. I hadn’t eaten much as I fled Rocko’s minions, and I was definitely feeling the liquor. I needed a little more to take the edge off, then a long nap.
But instead of letting me crawl off to bed, Sunny kept asking me questions about where I was coming from, what kind of trouble I expected, and how long I thought I’d be there. I had just a few moments to debate whether she would have asked a normal woman those questions when the massive doors unlocked and admitted her burly hero once more.
And someone else behind him, moving smooth and quiet. Dangerous. Tall and broad and intimidating and… familiar. I sucked in a breath and rocked back in the chair as I recognized the guy who appeared after the crazy Russian—the massive dude who’d turned into a wolf.
I wobbled to my feet and tried to put the chair between us as I retreated toward the back of the lobby and the elevators that should have taken me to safety. “Wh-What’s going on?”
Sasha’s dark hair fell across his forehead and almost hid his eyes from view. “He is friend. He followed you after trouble, wants to ask questions.”
I shook my head and scrambled to get farther away even though there was a wall in my way. “No, you don’t understand. He was… And then he turned into… There’s something really, really wrong with him.”
The big blond dude’s nose wrinkled as he eyed me. He didn’t say anything though, and instead it was Sunny who eased forward with her hands out, like she figured I would bolt like a frightened cat. “Deep breath, honey. Did you meet Henry earlier?”
Henry. So he had a name. He was some kind of person—or at least they thought he was a real person. I swallowed hard and debated how much to admit about what happened with the wolves and coyotes. It sounded like Sunny and Sasha already knew about people who transformed into animals, or at least that the wolves and dogs didn’t behave right in the city, so… it wasn’t like they could accuse me of being crazy. Right?
My hands shook as I tried to brush the hair out of my eyes, regretting that I’d left my bag over by the intake desk where Sunny maneuvered herself back into her chair. I needed some of my knitting to lend me a little strength, a little power. I’d drained the rest of it in holding off those damn dogs, and no magic remained for this little confrontation. “He was there, when the wolves attacked me.”
Sasha’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at the other guy, then jerked his chin at me in a sharp gesture. “Explain, wolf.”
Wolf? He couldn’t mean…
Henry, dark eyes flashing, glared at Sasha before turning his attention to me. “My name is Henry. You were walking through my pack’s territory when you summoned those coyotes. I need to know what you were up to.”
“When I…When I what?” I shook my head, looking to Sunny for help deciphering what the hell the man was talking about. “I didn’t summon anyone. I was walking after my car broke down and then they surrounded me and…wait. Did you say…did you say pack? You have a…pack?”
I blinked a lot, trying to clear my vision from what I suspected was that damn vodka, and gripped the back of the chair in front of me. They all had to start making sense eventually. Even if…even if I thought maybe that guy, Henry, had turned into a wolf. Had turned himself inside out and become the largest beast out of that group of beasts. It just didn’t make sense. Maybe Rocko worked some kind of curse on me and left me befuddled, unable to make sense or hear right. Maybe he wanted me locked up in a looney bin so he could “rescue” me later, make me feel indebted to him. I wouldn’t have been surprised by such a tactic.
Henry’s expression didn’t soften as he studied me. “Of course I have a pack. Where’s your coven? Are they waiting outside the city to attack us when you give the signal? Are you here looking for Deirdre?”
My jaw went slack as the second person that night accused me of being a witch. I tried to push upright from the chair and step forward strongly so I could poke him right in the chest. When in doubt, make counter-accusations and go on the offensive. History told me that letting people call you a witch never ended well for the accused, even when they weren’t actually witches. And it just got worse from there when they were witches.
I lifted my chin and squared my shoulders and fixed him with a dark glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d better—”
I didn’t get more than one step before the day and the night and everything caught up with me, and instead of poking him in the chest and giving him a piece of my mind, I ended up leaning forward and then kept on going. The floor rushed up at me and I had half a second to think that I could have used magic to save my dignity if I hadn’t used it all up saving myself from the damn wolves before I braced to collide with the chic tile floor.
