Maddox’s only thought was to protect her from the unseen threat. He jumped to his feet, his heart thudding so loudly he expected it to burst free from his chest. Leaping to her side, he was there as Evangeline’s body gave a jerk before she went completely limp in her seat. If he hadn’t moved as fast as he had, she would have crumpled to the floor.
She looked like she was dead.
Flashbacks of that night rushed through Maddox.
“Evangeline,” he roared. “No!”
He hurriedly scooped her up into his arms, holding her close as he fought his panic. His wolf howled its grief, wanting to nose at his mate’s cheek to see if she was all right. He refused the shift, needing to hold her close as she lay like a corpse in his arms. Corpse—no, he wasn’t going to think like that. She wasn’t dead. He couldn’t let her be.
Closing his eyes, he tapped into his beast and relied on its senses.
Okay. Okay. She was still breathing. He could hear her wheezes, soft and gentle. He flared his nostrils. The air surrounding Evangeline was a blend of her mouthwatering vanilla scent, the tickle of sweet baby powder, and a sharp tang that screamed pain. Whatever it was must have been agonizing to have such a flavor; it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Maddox was almost grateful that she was out. Unconscious, yeah, but that meant she wasn’t in pain any longer.
That was a good thing.
Now, if only he could convince himself that any part of what had just happened was good.
It was the baby powder that he couldn’t get out of his nose. As he carried his mate from the kitchen to their bedroom, he left the stink of her pain behind him. But the baby powder clung to her, a faint overlay to her natural scent. He knew that smell. It was the smell of magic—it was the m
ark of the witches.
There was only one way to know for sure. Leaning in, Maddox carefully lifted her left eyelid and stared. Because instead of the forest green he adored, a streak of vivid purple colored her iris before her eye rolled back in her head and she exhaled softly.
Maddox let go of her eyelid before laying her on their bed and giving her space, his head whirring at his discovery.
Evangeline was human. One hundred percent as way too many people had told him lately. But the essence of baby powder and the violet swirling in her eyes…
Colt was right. Evangeline had been touched by a witch.
Shit.
26
Colton knew he shouldn’t be there. He promised himself he wouldn’t return, no matter how loudly his wolf howled. No good would come of it. Besides, Maddox was relying on his help. How could he help his brother when he was too busy following his dick?
He sat in his delivery van, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. The temptation to leave the van and head into the store was too strong. He’d always prided himself on his control. Sure, his temper was legendary and he tended to shift at the drop of a hat, but that was all part of who he was.
What he wasn’t was some lovesick pup who sat in vans, mooning at displays of crystals, incense, and supplements all because he lost his fucking mind somewhere in Grayson.
It was the stupid town’s fault, he decided. One chance encounter—one stupid delivery—and now he was cursed to hide among the Ants because he just couldn’t help himself.
After accidentally stumbling upon Evangeline all those weeks ago, Colt never expected to have to come back. Except then Maddox sent him back twice more to pick up Evangeline’s scent. He hadn’t been able to, but that’s when he found her.
It was supposed to be a job. Just another commission: a simple dresser that he might have painstakingly labored over for two weeks in between visiting Maddox in the Cage and securing his brother’s release. Then came the innocent brush of her hand against his arm as he attempted to deliver the dresser and the sudden shock of his first erection. It surprised him so much that he dropped the dresser, crushed his ankle, and probably scared the shit out of his client.
His client, he repeated to himself. Because that’s all she was. That’s all she could be, no matter what his wayward dick thought.
Colt yawned, leaning his head up against the headrest. He spared only a second to rub the fatigue out of his eyes before his gaze was locked on the shopfront again. He couldn’t look away, not until he got a glimpse of that inky black hair, that honest smile.
Just a glimpse. Just a sign that she was doing okay and he could get back to searching for Cilla.
When he got his hands on that wayward witch, it was going to be a struggle not to snap his teeth at her. Priscilla Winters was his last hope. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours calling in any favor he had, hoping he could track her down. Just because Luciana said that a witch wouldn’t be able to help, that didn’t mean Colt actually accepted that.
Cilla was an old friend of Maddox’s. If anyone would be willing to help him, it would be Cilla. At least, if she felt the same guilt over Maddox’s fate as Colt did, she would.
Though he’d rather gnaw off his foot than admit it to Maddox, Colt long suspected that Cilla might have had something to do with the crash that destroyed his brother’s life. It was an open secret that she’d been in love with Maddox since they were teens. Back when Maddox first found Evangeline, Cilla was visibly upset at the news before later being happy that her childhood friend had discovered his mate at last.
Colt knew better.