Witch Interrupted (7 page)

“You can’t believe everything you heard about me—especially if you heard it from Lars. I honestly didn’t know experiments were being conducted on wolves. Then again, Lars only took charge after I…left.” Her voice turned bitter. Since she was no longer struggling, he eased his claws back into his fingertips.

“I don’t know how the keepers functioned when you were there. Lars kept me sequestered. I interacted with him and his subordinates. But I can confirm the experiments are real and not especially humane.”

Most witches believed wolves to be their inferiors, shifters not strong enough to resist. Marcus had assumed it himself in his first pass-through. He’d since learned otherwise. It wasn’t a question of worth. It was a question of magic. Magic and focus. Unfortunately, Lars, a purist who advocated the eradication of wolves to keep the bloodline untainted, hadn’t allowed the research Marcus wanted to pursue. Marcus had no intention of letting Lars catch him again.

“That figures,” she said. “I don’t like wolves, present company included, but that’s crossing the line.”

“I’m deeply wounded, Katie.” Her preferred name slipped out of his mouth. Was it because he didn’t like to see her flinch? Or because she’d stopped flinching?

“Am I to assume the keepers are after you as well as the elders?”

Marcus shrugged. If he got mired here, he wouldn’t be able follow normal evasive techniques. It would hinder him with Birmingham’s patrol. The sentries could sense other wolves within a certain radius. As far as the keepers, he wasn’t sure where they were, but he had no desire to be a sitting duck.

“The keepers
are
after you, aren’t they?” Her head thumped against his arm. “Did you lead them right to us? Perfect. A passel of homicidal maniacs to go with the rest of this crap.”

“If they knew where I was, I wouldn’t be at liberty.” He’d sent the keepers on a wild goose chase to West Virginia after his close call in California. He’d propositioned a witch in Sacramento, and she’d reported him to the elders. Luckily Marcus had contingency plans for his contingency plans.

Katie exhaled a very exasperated sigh. “How did you manage to escape them in the first place? Were you an elder?”

As if that would have protected him from Lars. The man had constantly chafed against the restrictions placed on the keepers by the region elders. “Do I look like an elder?”

“Dumb question, I guess. You’re not that old.” Elders came in all shapes and sizes, but one consistency was age. Second pass-through minimum, usually third. “If you’d been an elder, I would have heard of you.”

“Correct. The relationship between keepers and region elders was less strained when Vernon was in charge of the council.” Not that he’d known about keepers during his first pass-through, as an unglamorous magical lattice researcher. It hadn’t been until his sister had gotten sick that he’d learned the truth. And the true meaning of loss. “Lars described Vernon as weak.”

“Weak, humane, non-purist—all the same thing to Lars.”

“You aren’t a purist?”

She made a disgusted noise. “Do you see any froth around my mouth?”

“Yet you were able to leave the council with your memories intact too.” It was one thing for a scientist to leave the keeper stronghold intact and another for Chang Cai to manage it. Now that he’d met her, he couldn’t help but wonder how much of what he’d heard was factual.

“They tried to poppy me. It didn’t take.”

“Because you’re alpha?” There was no call for them to be at total odds when they had a common enemy. The thought of having someone on his side again pleased Marcus more than he cared to admit.

Except that this was Chang Cai.

“The theory at the time was because I’m just that perverse.” She laughed half-heartedly. “Shortly after that, they thought I was dead, so they didn’t have a chance to try again. Your turn. How’d you get out?”

He slowed the truck as they neared the entrance to the state park. Current magical theory taught that wipes weren’t damaging, since covens that performed them experienced no backlash. Katie’s experience with the wipe failure suggested wipes weren’t benevolent after all, but it took a convex alpha’s strength to refract a coven-led spell.

“I wasn’t wiped because I was put on retainer. Not many witches have PhDs in biology and chemistry.” Their lifespans allowed for as much education as desired, but most found human systems to be constraining. “I convinced Lars wiping me, not to mention killing me, would destroy my ability to consult for the council.”

“I can’t believe he listened. To anybody. I can’t believe he let you go. He’s not a man you can reason with.” Bitterness crept back into her voice. Since she was talking about Lars, he guessed he could understand.

He felt a lot of bitterness toward the murdering bastard himself. While he’d told Tonya she might as well have killed Elisa, Marcus knew who was truly responsible.

Hiram Lars.

“My experiments weren’t producing the results Lars wanted,” he explained. “I made sure I was…expensive to keep around.” He’d requisitioned exorbitant laboratory equipment, created numerous chemical incidents and nearly exposed the keeper stronghold on a regular basis while acting the part of an absent-minded genius. He’d given them enough to keep them from killing him but not enough to employ him.

“And since you’ve been free? Did he threaten you?”

“Oh, yes. Being out was like being on parole. My activities were constrained. I wasn’t allowed to communicate with elders or sympathizers.”

“No, Lars wouldn’t have wanted that.” They passed a park sign. “What are we doing here? This is Nashville pack territory.”

“So?”

“Everyone knows Nashville wolves are lazy. The keepers might look here for you.”

“The location serves its purpose.” When that purpose might involve making a woman scream.

“You’re still running experiments.” Katie twisted to look at him, and he fixed his eyes on the road. The headlights flickered against tall walls of trees. “On yourself. Is that why you got tattoos? To see if you could keep them?”

“I preferred them to scars. Less painful. Well…” His arm bumped her shoulder as he adjusted his fingers around her neck. She twitched when he encountered one of the small scratches he’d made. “The dragon is painful in a different way.”

“Sorry.” Actual embarrassment tinged Katie’s voice and scent. “Ba wouldn’t let me use the be-gone, and I hoped you wouldn’t come back if we gave you bad service.”

He laughed at her crestfallen expression. “You didn’t want to see me again?” He didn’t reiterate that her pheromones told a different story, because they both knew it.

Why did she want him? Sure, it was convenient for his purposes, flattering and undeniably arousing, but it wasn’t convenient for her. Her desire increased whenever he felt as if he might lose control, whenever he dominated her. He disliked that aspect of his new self and did everything he could to subsume it, but it seemed to excite her. Was her reaction specific to him, or was this why she’d had such a bad reputation with the keepers?

He couldn’t imagine having wolf lust when she’d spent thirty years opposing feral and transformed wolves.

She stared at the floorboard and said in a low voice, “Let me see if I have everything straight. The keepers blackmailed you, kept you on retainer and are now hunting for you. Why would you let us handcuff you for a minute? We could have trapped you. If you have any sense, there’s no one on earth you’ll want to avoid more than Hiram Lars. I know I do.”

“I would not love to see him again.”

“Are they close behind you or not?”

“They don’t know where I am.” Not at present. “Like with pack patrols, I have precautions against the keepers too.”

“Like what?” Her hair tickled his arm as she turned to watch him.

“Magical defenses.” His primed mixtures, stockpiled while he’d planned his transformation, bolstered him every morning. “Sleep spells, pack bonding spells and their ilk aren’t going to work on me as expected.”

“The true eye worked.”

“The true eye is harmless,” he countered. “I concentrated on spells that would kill me or hinder my freedom. Not all, mind you, but the standards.”

Katie, blinking owlishly, inspected him as if he were a puzzle to be solved. “Did you protect against being wiped?”

“First thing,” he lied. Despite having years to plan, he hadn’t been able to design a shield for memory erasure or the berserker spell that forced wolves to go temporarily feral. The keepers had been developing it when he’d left, unfortunately based on some of his research.

As for wipes, if he was ever in a position to have his memory erased, it was too late for him.

It wasn’t too late yet, was it? Katie said she didn’t want him dead, and the next step would be convincing her she wanted to help him. His cause was vital—and essential if he wanted to honor his sister’s name. It sounded like Katie wouldn’t mind some vengeance on Hiram Lars herself.

If he had to underscore the fact she wanted him to get her help, he wasn’t above using any means necessary.

He’d prove his theories faster if he had witch participation. If he had Katie’s participation.

Normally he tried to stifle the wolf, the wildness in himself, as if remaining the person he’d been before would ease his return path. The struggle taxed him, and today he’d struggled more than usual. Technically, he’d lost the fight when he’d threatened Katie with sexual assault and kidnapped her—but his loss was looking like a gigantic win.

Should he give in to the urge to stop the truck, shove her back on the seat and bury his face in her…

No. He was a scientist, governed by reason and logic. He was not a beast.

“I don’t know. You were pretty worried about us altering your memories,” Katie finally concluded. “I think you’re bluffing.”

“Think what you want.” The truck bumped along the pitted gravel road to the site where he’d parked the Airstream. “I didn’t want you to know what you were up against.”

“I know what I’m up against.”

She was up against him. Her softness rested against him, and her breathing quickened. He parked the truck and stared down at her. Neither of them exited the vehicle. Not that she could, since he was restraining her.

Marcus slid his thumb along her jaw. His gaze dropped to her lips. His id chanted something nonsensical about plunder and sweetness and taking advantage.

His defenses against lust? Well, he didn’t seem to have any.

Reluctance and fascination warred on Katie’s pretty face as she examined his. “You didn’t fake everything. Some things can’t be faked, Marcus. Some things happen whether you want them to or not.”

He smiled. “No. I didn’t fake everything.”

“I didn’t think so.” Her pupils dilated with interest.

It was working. Somehow. She was playing into his hands. If their discussion led to intimacy, how would she react when he asked her to relay her experiences as clinically as possible during the different phases of lovemaking?

He’d best broach his business proposal before seducing her, despite the fact her scent and body were seducing him.

“Let’s go inside where it’s more comfortable,” he suggested, before he mauled her in the truck. “I’ll show you my research.”

One corner of her mouth curled in a reluctant smile. “Is that like your etchings?”

He smiled back. She had a quick wit, and he enjoyed the banter. “No, but there are a considerable number of photographs.”

She allowed him to help her out of the vehicle. Her body slid against his.

Yeah, he wasn’t faking everything.

Biting her lip, she scooted sideways, cheeks pink. She rolled her shoulders, which probably ached from having her wrists cuffed behind her. “What would it take for you to share your defensive recipes with us? We’d like more protections against the keepers too.”

He took her by the arm and led her to the trailer. “Look at it from my point of view. Why would I freely give you anything when you’d like to take everything from me?”

“We could pay you,” she offered, not mentioning whether her intent to wipe him was still a factor.

“I don’t need money.” As he followed her into the Airstream, he prepared to haggle. The longer he kept her curious, the better chance he had of persuading her. “I need my memories. My freedom. And I need help. Don’t you want to defy Lars?”

From the far side of the room, she stared at him as he shut the door. They should be safe here until he and Katie reached an agreement; Tonya and Zhang Li would hardly be in league with any wolves or human policemen who could track them. Katie’s lips, where she’d bitten them, were reddened and plush. The desire in her scent ramped up again, and her gaze kept dropping—below his chest and lower.

Did she like what she saw? What parts of his body did she favor? It wasn’t easy to remain analytical in a small space with a beautiful woman. One who wanted him carnally, even though she shouldn’t.

“What kind of help do you need?” she asked.

“I need you.” When her eyes widened, he swallowed a grin. He could get used to being ogled. “It has to be you. You’re alpha. You have so much power. I have a theory that transformed wolves can be recovered and that witches can access wolf magic. You can help me prove it. Imagine what that would do to the council.”

“Your sister.” Her shoulders relaxed. “This is about her.”

“This is about science.” But Katie was right. “And my sister. What happened to her haunts me. I freely admit that.”

If she cooperated, he could have these answers and more. He’d never had to exploit his sexuality and wasn’t sure how to go about it. Should he pose with his hand against the cabinet? Stick a thumb in his waistband? How long before she wondered why he hadn’t put on a shirt?

Silently, he urged her closer. Close enough to touch, so he could prove he wasn’t dangerous. Granted, he wasn’t positive it was true, considering the thoughts in his head, but she didn’t need to know everything.

“Do you think you can figure out what thousands of years of witchery hasn’t?”

“You’ll never know if you poppy me,” Marcus pointed out.

“No, we wouldn’t, would we?” she mused. “What about the fact I was a keeper? You hate keepers.”