“I’m not stroking a plant’s ego,” I snarled.
“Plants don’t have egos. This one is genetically modified to be aggressive, but it only reacted that way to me when I tried to take something meant for you. Perhaps kindness is the way to this thing’s heart.”
“Seymour,” Simone said quietly.
Ben’s brow furrowed before a deep, barreling laugh rumbled through his chest. “Its name is Seymour?” He chuckled again. “I need to meet this Floromancer.”
Hot rage spiraled through me. Simone and Ben turned to me, one of the healer’s eyebrows rising. “Oh. It’s like that, is it?”
“It’s not like anything,” I snarled.
Simone pressed her lips together and took the paper from my hand. “Just in case it’s poisoned,” she said.
“It’s not,” Ben said. “I’d smell it. The only thing on the paper is ink.”
Simone unfolded the paper, and another paper fell out. When she retrieved it, a rush of air expelled from her chest, and she winced. “You aren’t going to like it,” she said.
“What is it?”
Simone held up a check made out to me, written for an extraordinary amount.
The exact amount I spent restoring her shop.
“There’s a note,” Simone continued.
“Read it,” I growled.
Simone cleared her throat. “It just says ‘Check and mate.’”
A low snarl rumbled from my throat. I spun away and stalked from the room, reaching out and swiping a chair up, breaking it in half. Wood splinters shattered, but it wasn’t enough. The urge to destroy overwhelmed me. I swept the glass centerpiece from the table, shattering the Murano hand blown bulbs.
“Lord,” Simone said urgently.
I reached for one of the bookshelves, picked it up with one hand and tossed it through the window, the feeling of uselessness screaming through my veins.
Ben murmured something to Simone, so low I couldn’t make it out.
Why won’t she let me protect her? Why must she continually spurn my advances?
I threw my head back, an enraged howl spilling from my throat, and burst through the front door, intent on finding her.
Chapter
Twenty-Seven
The second the furious howl rang out, I sent magic spiraling into the ground. Full-grown trees burst from the earth, ripe with fruit. Flowering vines wrapped around the house’s columns. Bushes in a riot of colors popped up, ruining his perfect landscaping, but the most perfect part was the mix of native wildflowers and dandelions that sprang up, obliterating Caelan’s perfect grass in a carpet of stunning blooms.
I sat cross-legged on his roof, waiting for him to spot me.
Caelan stalked down the porch, stopped at the edge of the yard, and put his hands on his hips. A litany of curses blasted from his mouth. I put my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing and watched as he stepped onto the wildflower carpet.
A massive man behind him followed, his deep, rumbling chuckle making my lips tilt up. “You gotta admit she has style.”
“Shut the fuck up, Ben.” Caelan went to the middle of his front yard and swept the area. I’d deliberately sat where he’d scent me and waited for the gentle breeze to reach his nose. Once it did, Caelan’s eyes snapped up.
The large man barked a laugh when I gave Caelan a little wave and dropped my fingers one by one until only the middleone was left. Then I waved that one at him, turned into a wren, and leaped from the roof. My car was parked a mile away, far enough to avoid suspicion, close enough for me to fly with ease.
But what I hadn’t counted on was Caelan’s agility. In one graceful movement, the Shifter Lord leapt into the air, reaching out a claw tipped hand to grasp me. I nosedived to dodge and swept away, warbling at him in annoyance.
