“Hmm…” Sophie furrowed her brow at him before peeking her head inside. “Hey, Crim? You there?”
“Coming,” a melodic voice drifted toward them, followed by two sets of footsteps.
“Pete. Oh, thank goodness.” Destiny sashayed toward him, wearing a light pink dress with white flowers, and before he could react to her presence, she flung her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
A cooling calmness flushed through his system, making him feel like all was right in the world, yet nothing about it felt ethereal. In fact, he didn’t feel an ounce of magic radiating from her body as she embraced him, which was odd as all get out. When he’d met her in the bakery, he could feel her angelic power from across the room.
His nose brushed her soft, copper hair, and he inhaled against his will, breathing in the scents of lavender and vanilla. An ache formed in his chest, the sensation of longing making his stomach clench. But longing for what? He didn’t know this woman, yet she felt so familiar to him.
“I thought I’d lost you.” She pulled away and clutched his shoulders. “Come inside. We have work to do.”
“It’s okay,” Sophie said. “Nothing to be afraid of.”
Not when it came to Destiny, it seemed. As she backed through the doorway, he searched her aura for the silver and gold angelic glow he’d witnessed in the bakery, but it was gone. She appeared completely mundane.
No, that wasn’t the right word. Nothing about her was mundane or ordinary in any way, but he couldn’t detect even a hint of magic about her. She beckoned him inside, and his body reacted, taking a step toward the door before he realized he was moving.
He couldn’t say why, but the feeling that he’d follow this woman anywhere burrowed deep into his chest, taking root in his heart. He lifted his leg to take another step when Sophie rested her hand on his back. She didn’t try to push him forward physically, but the warm, fuzzy, controlling magic seeping from her palm was unmistakable. Was that why he’d trusted her? Because she was coercing him, and he’d been too distraught to notice it?Oh, hell no.
He sidestepped and pivoted, shrugging off her enchanted touch. “I need you to stop it with the magic. I may not know my ears from the fluff on my toes, but I do know I don’t like to be controlled.”
She raised her hands. “Fuck me with a broomstick. I was only trying to help. You said yourself your rabbit makes you bolt whenever you feel uneasy.”
He rested his hands on his hips. “I didn’t say it’s when I feel uneasy. It’s a defense mechanism. I’m a…”
“Lover, not a fighter?” Crimson arched a brow.
No, he was going to say something else, but the moment the word flitted into his mind, it dissolved like cotton candy in the rain. “This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.”
“Of course you should.” Sophie dropped her arms by her sides. “You’ve got the most powerful witch in New Orleansandan earthbound angel in your corner. They’ll help you get your memories back.”
Her magic radiated toward him, trying to reach his rabbit and bind it in her metaphorical shackles. He threw up his hands in defense and backed away. “I asked you to stop.”
Sophie frowned. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Yes, you are.” He might not have sensed it before, but he damn sure did now. The calmness his rabbit felt being near Destiny was honest and real. This thing Sophie had been doing to him since they met was anything but.
He took two more steps backward, the first landing firmly on the wooden porch. The second, however, met air. His ass smacked the railing half a second before his right leg exited solid ground. The impact pitched his upper body forward as the lower half went down. His left knee buckled, and he tumbled, catching himself with his hands on the porch before rolling off and landing in a bed of daffodils.
“Pete!” Destiny rushed down the steps and dropped to her knees beside him. “Oh, goodness. Are you hurt?”
“Ow.” He sat up and examined his arm. His sweater had hung up on a nail, the sleeve ripping open from elbow to wrist, but that wasn’t the worst of it. His forearm also had a go with the nail, and a massive gash stretched the length of it, blood gushing from the wound.
“Bandages,” Destiny shouted to the women on the porch. “We need bandages. And maybe a hospital.”
“No.” He ripped what was left of his sleeve off and rose to his feet, brushing the dirt from his pants with his uninjured arm. “It’ll heal. Shifters heal fast.”
“Not that fast.” Sophie eyed the wound.
Pete started to wave away her comment, but she was right. The gash stitched itself together in seconds, leaving no scar or redness in its wake. He blinked, turning his arm over and back, the drying blood on his skin the only indication he’d been injured at all.
Logic said he should agree with Sophie, that no shifter could heal that quickly. Something else told him it was completely normal for him. That he’d healed himself in seconds his entire life.
If only he could mend the embarrassment heating his cheeks. Rabbits were supposed to be quick and sure-footed, yet he’d tumbled off the porch like a clumsy panda climbing a swing. And right in front of this copper-haired image of sheer perfection.
Too bad he couldn’t tap his foot, open up a rabbit hole, and hop inside. Instead, he shoved his ripped sleeve into his pocket and trudged toward the walk. “I’m going to find the local herd.”
“Herd?” Destiny followed him. “Why are you looking for cows?”
