He yanked the door open, the normally pleasant bell clanging discordantly. “Let’s go, Tess.”
The banshee shot me an apologetic look before hurrying out after Ash.
Ouch. His rejection stung, but I wasn’t the type to cower from someone like Caelan. While I preferred staying under the radar, Caelan was trying to force me into the spotlight. What he didn’t realize was that I’d grown up with a master manipulator.
I’d forced him to sign a contract for this particular order, and part of the contract involved keeping who created the flowers for him confidential.
To his detriment, he didn’t seem concerned. Whether he figured I valued my privacy too much or didn’t want my name associated with him, Caelan seemed to take the clause in stride. But it was for a specific reason. Tonight’s display may very well embarrass him, and I didn’t want people loyal to Caelan coming after me. They may suspect because I’m the only Floromancer close to the Keep, but they’d never know for sure as this was the first and only display of its kind. I had nothing like it in my store and didn’t plan to stock anything like it in the future.
No one knew I possessed this kind of power. Caelan would shortly. And I hoped he would think twice before exerting his will on me again.
I cleaned up the register area and made a fresh pot of coffee. On most days, I’d siphon my power once more before I left, but tonight magic hummed inside me, crackling against my skin.
Caelan’s event would begin soon. I had time to do some catch up before needing to be on guard. A possibility existed that Caelan would forgive this, but he was a proud man. I fully expected him to show up this evening.
My nerves buzzed, partly from all the caffeine I’d consumed, partly from anticipation mixed with a heavy dose of fear. He’d smell it on me if he came to my shop tonight. But I’d made preparations for his arrival. I would not die this night. Neither would Caelan if he were careful.
Floral fragrance hung heavy and sweet in the air tonight. The temperature was cool but humid, a result of my magic and the plants waiting in preparation. I’d brought some things from the back, plants I carefully tended but almost never used—my own creations, hybrids I’d brought to life when staying with Hazel when I felt like I was growing out of my skin.
These special flowers were deadly, dangerous things. Perfect for the deadly, dangerous thing who might later come to call. I could feel the plants’ anticipation in the quiver of their thorns, poison glistening from wickedly sharp tips. These could never be allowed to grow wild, never be propagated. I’d hesitated before bringing them out tonight, but Caelan had me in brute strength. If he got a hold of me for too long, I might be dead by the end of the confrontation.
I’d made these when my magic was still settling after the attack, and some of the Chimera had bled through. Six plants sat around the shop, two with crimson red leaves and purple vines. Two more had fat, glossy green circular leaves, and an odd spotted yellow stem. The other two looked like nothing more than a common pothos vine. I called those my Chimera vines. Most of the magic I’d spilled had gone to those two plants, and they were the most dangerous of all.
Their poisons were unique and unknown to science. Discovering exactly how deadly my creations were was a memory I didn’t like to think about, and after a few gruesome incidents, I’d sent a tiny amount of each anonymously to a lab because I was curious, and a few weeks later, my request for identification made the national news when the government asked for the person who sent them to come forward.
Whoops.
They wanted more samples and claimed they wanted to “contain” the poison for public safety. My mother, cruel as she was, had taught me many lessons, but the most important knowledge she’d ever imparted was to never trust the government. In her exact words, she’d said, “They make the fae look like benevolent puppies.”
It was an odd stance to take since pesky things like politicians couldn’t stop someone like my mother, but looking back, I genuinely believed she was trying to help me.
I was old enough at the time to know if I revealed myself, I’d either be dead or in a cage, and the plants I’d created would be used in secret and probably against other people.
Obviously, I never responded to the government’s plea, and I’d sequestered the plants at home in a specially designed suitcase Hazel made for me. A few years later, they were hale and happy and just as deadly as they always were.
And tonight, they might save my life.
Nine p.m. came, then ten. At ten fifteen, I set aside my shears and tools, slipping a wicked cursed dagger I used on my most troublesome plants into the sheath at my back. I rarely wore it, but I thought it best to be prepared for anything tonight. It wouldn’t do much to Caelan, but it might slow him down a bit. Seconds could mean the difference between life and death.
In my left front pocket, I had a packet of Ash’s famous itching powder, potent as hell on a normal basis, but this one was charged by a Harvest moon. In my right, a pocket full of ground wolfsbane flowers.
Caelan was nothing if not meticulous. I expected him to come in, try to have a conversation with me, then threaten to kill me.
All very civilized.
But the Shifter Lord surprised me, and it almost ended before it ever began.
Chapter
Fourteen
I’d just brushed the last of the discarded leaves into the trashcan when the front window shattered, glass exploding into fine powdered dust. I threw my hands up in defense, the glass shredding my arms into ribbons. Pain tore through my limbs, and a scream tore from my throat.
A massive dark figure sailed through the window, one moment a wolf, the next an angry, furious man. Blood dripped from my arms onto the floor, the only thing that could betray my nature, but Caelan was too pissed off to notice.
He stalked toward me with a predator’s grace, any touch of gray gone from his eyes. Golden light enveloped the room, his gaze honed on me.
“Why?” His voice was a low, graveled snarl. “Have I done something to you, Evie Quinn?”
