“You are not a coward!” Winter’s hand tightened almost painfully on his knee. “This woman has already tried to kill you. I am so proud of you for coming here with me tonight. You are incredibly brave.”
A harsh, bitter laugh erupted from Fox and he shook his head. “Don’t feel brave. I’m pretty sure I’m going to piss my pants when we see her.”
“Don’t care. You’re here to protect me, and I say you’re brave. It is possible to be scared and brave at the same time.”
“Well, I could certainly do without this feeling.”
Placing his hand over Winter’s, Fox closed his eyes and tried to find his center. It was something his mother had taught him when he was young and overwhelmed by the world or mean kids at school. Breathing deeply, he looked inside of himself, digging deeper and deeper until he found the quiet little pool of cool water that existed in his soul. He didn’t know how long it took, but then he was mentally standing at its edge. A smile spread across his lips as he noticed for the first time, the pool was the same color as Winter’s pale blue eyes. Maybe it was meant to be.
He reached out and touched the water, letting its cold sink into him. Calm rippled out from within, washing across his chest and along his limbs. He and Winter were going to meet with the witch and get the answers they sought. They were going to return safely home and save Winter’s family.
Fox opened his eyes again as Winter turned down a narrow dirt driveway. Trees crowded close on both sides, blocking out what little light came from the moon and stars above. Some of the anxiety tried to crawl back into Fox, but he just remembered the pool, the calming pool that looked like his lover’s eyes. Winter was with him. Winter would not let her hurt him. He would not let her hurt Winter.
At the end of the drive was a medium-sized log cabin with cute little flower boxes on the windows. More flowers were planted around the front of the house, and there was an old rocking chair on the front porch. The windows were covered with lace curtains and a warm, cheery glow came from within.
“It feels like the house Hansel and Gretel found while lost in the woods,” Winter murmured as he backed the SUV into a spot and placed it in park.
“Yeah, go with that feeling. She’ll fucking eat your soul if she gets the chance.”
Winter chuckled, but it didn’t exactly sound steady. He turned off the engine, and they got out of the car and walked toward the house. Before Winter could place his foot on the first step, Fox caught his arm and stopped him.
“Don’t go up,” Fox said softly.
“Why? How else are we going to knock on the door?”
Fox shook his head. “We’re not. Trust me, she knows we’re here.” Lifting his hand, he pointed at the symbols carved into the stairs and the others carved into the front porch railing and posts. “See those? Protection wards. You try to cross those uninvited, and you’re gonna get hurt.”
Winter stared at them for a moment, his expression so intense and thoughtful, a chill ran through Fox. “They work against any creature?”
“As far as I know.”
“Can you replicate them?”
Fox huffed a laugh. “Sure. I can draw those in my sleep. Cheryl had me carving them in her old house in Washington. The problem is, I can’t do the magic that goes behind them. It’s not enough to draw the symbol. You have to be able to do the spell that goes with them.”
“And everyone knows he’s a worthless witch,” a harsh female voice added.
Fox and Winter looked around to find a woman walking around the side of the house, a shotgun cradled in her arms. It wasn’t pointed at them, but it wouldn’t take much for that position to change.
Cheryl Watkins hadn’t really aged since he’d last seen her. She was maybe a little bit thinner and maybe had a little more gray in her brown hair, but her amber-brown eyes were as sharp as ever. Her thin lips were pulled into a harsh frown like a slash across her face. The pale-yellow blouse hung loose on her thin shoulders and made her look even paler. Apparently, she wasn’t spending much time out in the sun, and that seemed a little strange. Witches were typically the outdoor types. Many witches got a nice power charge from walking out in the sun and in nature, but it looked as if she were staying indoors most of the time.
“Good evening, Ms. Watkins,” Fox said politely, even if it was through clenched teeth.
“I’m surprised you had the balls to face me again, Little Kit.”
Fox struggled to ignore the comment as anger and betrayal raced like venom up his throat. He swallowed it back before slowly gesturing toward the rage-filled man at his side. God, he prayed Winter could control his temper. “This is Winter Varik of the Varik vampire clan. We’re here seeking information about a prophecy that was made.”